Morgan had been trying his hardest not to let it show.
Because everyone had warned him.
“It’s only two weeks.”
“You’ll survive.”
“Stop being dramatic.”
But the boys didn’t know why he’d been so off all day.
It was your anniversary.
And for the first time since you’d been together, he wasn’t waking up beside you. No breakfast dates, no annoying each other all day, no stealing each others food.
Just New York.
And somehow New York didn’t feel all that exciting anymore.
⸻
Back home, you were feeling exactly the same.
Until there was a knock on the door.
Michelle stood there holding an envelope and a smile.
Michelle: “Happy early anniversary, love.”
Inside was a plane ticket to New York.
You nearly burst into tears.
Reader: “Michelle, I can’t—”
Michelle: “Oh yes, you can.”
Reader: “But—”
Michelle: “He misses you terribly.”
Your heart softened.
Reader: “He does?”
Michelle laughed.
Michelle: “Love, he rang me this morning sounding absolutely miserable. Didn’t want to admit it, but I could tell.”
And that was when you made up your mind.
⸻
The first person you texted was Beano. You and Beano had really gotten along since knowing each other. You shared similar banter and both loved winding Morgan up together. He was almost like your brother.
Reader: “Hi Bean, weird question… can you help me surprise Morgan?”
Not even thirty seconds later your phone rang.
Beano: “YES.”
You laughed.
Reader: “You haven’t even heard the plan.”
Beano: “DOESN’T MATTER.”
Reader: “Bean—”
Beano: “THIS IS CINEMA.”
⸻
Within ten minutes, Beano had created a group chat.
Operation Anniversary ❤️🗽
Members:
Beano.
Tays.
Jakey.
Chazza.
And you.
⸻
8:45am
Beano: “Nobody tell Ginge.”
Tays: “If any of you lot ruin this, I’ll actually cry.”
Jakey: “He has been unbearable all day. This needs to happen.”
Chazza: “He’s watched their TikToks edits about fifty times .
Jakey: “HE’S DOWN BAD 😭”
You couldn’t stop laughing reading through them.
Reader: “You lot are so mean.”
Beano: “No we’re not. He’s pathetic. We love him though.”
As the hours got closer, the group chat somehow became even more ridiculous.
⸻
11:57am
Jakey: “Ginge has just bought her a bracelet.”
“He said, ‘She’ll love this.”
“And then stood staring at it for ten minutes.”
⸻
1:49pm
Chazza: “He just asked what time is it in England.”
“Three times.”
And then on the morning of your anniversary—
10:35am
Tays: “Emergency meeting.”
Jakey: “He’s sad.”
Chazza: “Really sad.”
Jakey: “Like genuinely.”
Beano: “Man hasn’t smiled properly once.”
Meanwhile, Morgan sat on the hotel sofa.
Chazza: “Cheer up, Romeo,” Chaz teased.
Morgan: “I’m cheerful.”
Chazza: “No, you’re not.”
Morgan: “I’m smiling.”
Chazza: “You look constipated.”
Jakey burst out laughing.
But what Morgan didn’t know—
was that while he was moping around New York, the boys were working overtime.
Tays had arranged for you to get into the hotel.
Jakey had distracted Morgan every five minutes.
Chazza had nearly blown the surprise three separate times because he kept grinning whenever Morgan mentioned you.
And Beano—
well.
Beano had taken his role very seriously.
⸻
2:36pm
Beano: “She’s landed.”
Tays: “GET IN.”
Jakey: “HES CURRENTLY ARGUING ABOUT PIZZA TOPPINGS. WE’RE SAFE.”
Chazza: “HE NEARLY SAW ME SMILING. I’M FIGHTING FOR MY LIFE.”
Beano: “Act natural.”
Chazza: “HOW?”
Beano: “You’re pushing thirty, mate.”
By the time you’d reached the NY Bov house, Beano was waiting for you a bit down the street dressed like some sort of secret agent
He had sunglasses on.
You stared.
Reader: “Beano.”
Beano: “What?”
Reader: “Why are you wearing sunglasses?”
He lowered them dramatically
Beano: “For the mission.”
Reader: “You look ridiculous.”
Beano: “It’s called aura.”
Meanwhile upstairs, Morgan was somehow even sadder.
Morgan: “It’s our anniversary and I can’t even annoy her in person,” he sighed.
Jakey exchanged a look with Tays.
Tays had to physically leave the room because he was smiling too much.
Eventually Beano dragged Morgan upstairs.
Beano: “Need your help with something.”
Morgan: “Can it wait?”
Beano: “No.”
Morgan: “I’m depressed.”
Beano: “Exactly.”
Morgan sighed dramatically and followed him.
He opened the his bedroom door.
And froze.
Because sitting on the bed—
was you.
His whole face changed.
Morgan: “…No.”
You smiled nervously.
Reader: “Hi.”
His eyes immediately filled with tears.
Morgan: “No.”
You laughed.
Reader: “Morgan—”
Morgan: “No, shut up.”
He covered his face.
Morgan: “No way.”
And then he crossed the room and wrapped himself around you so tightly you almost fell backwards.
Morgan: “Oh my God.”
Reader: “Happy anniversary.”
Morgan: “You came.”
He buried his face into your shoulder.
Morgan: “You actually came.”
⸻
And outside the room—
four grown men were crowded around the door.
Chazza: “Can you hear anything?” Chaz whispered.
Tays: “No.”
Jakey: “I think he’s crying.”
Beano: “He is crying.”
Chaz: “Definitely crying.”
Beano grinned.
Beano: “I told you.”
Chazza looked emotional himself.
Chaz: “This is beautiful.”
Jakey just laughed.
Jakey: “Imagine if they open the door and we’re all standing here.”
Which was exactly what happened.
Morgan opened the door ten minutes later.
And found the boys frozen like deer in headlights.
Tays: “…Hello.”
Morgan blinked.
Morgan: “Were you eavesdropping?!”
Chaz: “No.”
Morgan: “YES YOU WERE!”
Beano looked proud.
Beano: “Operation Anniversary was a success.”
Jakey was laughing too hard to speak.
Tays pointed at Morgan’s red eyes.
Tays: “He cried!”
Morgan: “I’m going to kill all of you.”
But he never actually did.
Because later that night, walking through New York with your hand in his, Morgan quietly admitted
Morgan: “I was really struggling today.”
You squeezed his hand.
Reader: “I know.”
Morgan: “I just hated the thought of spending our anniversary without you.”
He smiled softly.
Morgan: “But somehow…”
He looked over at you.
Morgan: “You, my mum and four idiots managed to pull off the best surprise of my life.”
And somewhere back in the hotel—
Operation Anniversary had changed its group photo to a picture of Morgan hugging you.
With Beano changing the group description to:
“Mission accomplished. Absolute cinema.” ❤️
When you and Morgan arrived back at the house the boys surprised ye with lots of snacks, rose petals spread across Morgans bed and a card written from each of them.
Reader: “Aw boys you didn’t have to do this”
Jakey: “It’s the least we could do for our favourite couple.”
Morgan: “Thanks boys I mean it”
Beano: “Ya, ya, don’t enjoy yourselves too much” (as he smirked)
Morgan playfully hit him on the arm as the rest of the boys all laughed.
Morgan practically shoved everyone out of the room.
Morgan: “Right. Thanks for your service. Get out.”
Jakey gasped.
Jakey: “That’s no way to speak to your family.”
Morgan:“You’ve been listening through the door!”
Chazza: “Only professionally.”
Morgan: “OUT!”
Beano saluted.
Beano: “Mission accomplished.”
As the door finally shut behind the last of them, the room became quiet for the first time all day.
Morgan let out a long sigh and just looked at you.
Morgan: “No cameras.”
“No more chaos”
“No Beano pretending he’s in a spy film.”
You laughed.
For a moment neither of you said anything.
Because after weeks apart, neither of you quite knew where to start.
Then Morgan smiled softly.
Morgan: “Come here.”
He wrapped his arms around you again, resting his chin on top of your head.
Morgan: “I missed this,” he admitted quietly.
Reader: “Being squeezed to death?
Morgan: “Shut up.”
You laughed.
Reader: “No seriously”
His voice softened.
Morgan: “I missed you stealing my hoodies. I missed you falling asleep halfway through films. I even missed you stealing my chips. Even though it’s only been a week”
Reader: “Me too Morg”
You spent the next hour exchanging anniversary presents, laughing at the terrible wrapping job he’d done, and looking through the hundreds of photos he’d taken over the past two weeks that he’d been saving to show you in person.
Eventually, the two of you ended up curled up together on the bed, takeaway boxes scattered everywhere, watching whatever random rubbish Morgan had put on the TV.
Summary: First introductions Morgan’s family and friends have to his baby girl.
Lowkey started writing fics for my Tilly arc so locking in on these fics is bringing me so much joy! This is a long one grab a drink and a snack x
Two days later you were released. Morgan fussed over you, helping you into stretchy leggings one of his hoodies and of course a post-partum nappy. First matching fit with your girl, both sporting extra padding and being frustrated with it.
Matilda wore a much cuter outfit. A soft oatmeal baby grow with little bows scattered around it, a little white hat protecting her head from the nippy wind waiting for you outside.
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?”
“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.
“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.
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.
Summary: Ginge is caught watching Bluey with Matilda - one by one the whole house becomes invested too.
CW: Embarrassing accuracy for the Bluey segments - I am still watching Bluey now. I have no excuses for it.
Ryan had roped you into a q&a segment on his stream - he claimed it was for international woman’s week, you knew it was just to annoy your boyfriend.
You joined him after putting Matilda down for her afternoon nap. Figuring you had about half an hour to be yourself and not mummy.
Chat loved yours and Ryan’s chaotic energy together - semi-convinced you were one of Ryan’s many siblings and had just got shipped away at birth since you’d bonded so quickly.
“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.
You glanced around the room — grown men sat around watching children’s cartoons on a Friday afternoon to make your baby happy. Your daughter safe in her dad’s arms, gentle laughter replacing the usual chaos.
Summary; Yours and Morgan’s journey from a family of three to a family of four.
Been trying to post this for hours kept deleting, then deleting from my drafts then wouldn’t let me make a post at all – I’ve had to delete the app and try again, I’m STRESSED! If I eventually get to post this please tell me it’s the best thing ever even if you hate it because I’m cryin rn 😗
The camera is propped up on a pile of baby books on the dresser. You’re sat cross legged on the floor, attempting to organize a small mountain of baby clothes.
"Okay, so," you say to the lens, your voice hushed. "We’ve had the talk. We’re officially trying for number two! It feels wild saying it out loud, considering Tilly was such a—"
"A total accident?"
You jump, twisting around. Morgan is leaning against the doorframe, a ‘1st Birthday’ teddy bear in his hand and that infuriatingly smug grin on his face.
"Shut up, knobhead, I was going to say 'surprise'." You roll your eyes, suppressing a laugh.
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.
“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.
Summary: Tilly is kidnapped by uncle Tays and uncle Beano so you can get some much needed rest
Being pregnant was so much easier the first time round - no toddler running laps around you demanding the energy her little brother was stealing from you as he baked away.
Treating yourself to a five minute sit down accidentally turned into a cuppa and gossip sesh with Ryan and Mikey. You LOVED being Tilly’s mummy but pregnancy was hard.
The boys semi understood - both having younger siblings and remembering their mums being burned out.
“How about this reader - we’re going Trafford for new nerf guns well take Tilly with us, have a nap or a bath or something” Tays suggested, reaching over to the coffee table for the last digestive.
“I can’t ask you to do that - Tilly is a handful at the minute. She’s driving me and Morgan up the walls I won’t even ask Michelle to watch her lately incase we lose our best babysitter”
“Ya forget we live with the wee tike reader, Morgan’s off in London have yourself a day off too” Ryan didn’t even wait for you to reply before he wiped the crumbs from his jacket and stood. “Oi Tilly - come get your shoes on uncle Beano and uncle Tays are taking you on an adventure”
You sighed, accepting your fate. Letting the boys kidnap your daughter as you rested back against the cushions.
The three were blasting Disney music singing along at the top of their lungs as Mikey drove to the shopping centre. Matilda kicking her feet unable to contain her joy. She loved her uncles - they never said no to her like her mum and dad did.
Parking up Ryan unbuckled Tilly from her car seat before taking her little hand in his and racing Mikey to the toy shop.
“UNICORN UKLE BEAN!!” She squealed as they walked into the shop. A giant rainbow unicorn plushie was on display at the entrance. It was probably the height of two Matilda’s.
Mikey and Ryan looked at each other, to the toy and back to each other before shrugging and picking it up.
“If ya ma asks it was uncle Tays who bought you it okay Tilly?”
Tilly nodded with far too much serious for a two year old, already betraying Mikey by shouting, “UKLE TAYS GOT UNICORN!”
“No way, absolute slander here mate” Mikey huffed out with a laugh, Ryan had to put a hand on his stomach with the force of his laughter.
Tilly paid them no mind, the tiny boss pulling on Ryan’s hand to guide him further into the shop. She was a woman on a mission - no parents to say no she was getting all her heart desired.
Forty-five minutes and a drastically lowered bank balance later the boys had a boot full and a very happy, overly hyper toddler on their hands.
“Ice cream ukle tays” Big blue eyes were staring back at him, arm outstretched to unmissable McDonald’s sign to the side of them. Bottom lip pouting out in his direction as she waited for his response
“Aw anything for the princess, want to go McDonald’s eh? Get some nuggets too?”
Getting a squeal in response Mikey quickly went in the drive through ordering for the three of them. They ate in the car to try control the mess but two year olds will be two year olds and she was wearing more McFlurry than she managed to eat by the time they were finished.
“You made a big mess princess!!” Mikey laughed with her, gently rubbing her face and hands with a baby wipe - quickly learning attempting to remove the ice cream from her hair was doomed to fail.
Charlie, Jakey and Morgan were hanging around in the lounge when they made it back to the house.
Tilly spotted her dad immediately, running up to him as he squatted down arms outstretched for her to fall into.
“You have a good day babe? Where’d you go with your uncles huh?” Morgan asked brushing her wild curls away from her face and pecking her forehead.
“DADDY I got unicorn!!” She turned to Ryan and Mikey expectantly. The four men laughed at her as she struggled to hold the toy due to its size.
“Wow - that’s nice of them. Did you say thank you?… or ask them where it’s going to live” He was glaring at the boys over Matilda’s head - she already had an unnecessary amount of toys, her bedroom was being over taken. Plus with another baby on the way he already knew the plushie would be the bane of his life once you saw it.
“I say fanks daddy” She rolled her eyes, leaving Morgan to go through the bag of toys she’d picked out on their adventures.
“Boys I have a very heavily pregnant girlfriend and you think it’s a good idea to fill up the house more? Do you not value your lives?” Morgan angrily whispered towards them as Charlie and Jakey cackled at the situation beside him.
“In all fairness tho, she did that face. You can’t say no to her either ginge”
“Aye what were we meant to do? Break her wee heart? I’m not a bastard, king”
Morgan sighed in resignation. The four boys already making themselves busy modelling the new princess tiaras Matilda just needed.
And honestly? The pure unfiltered joy on her little face - fill the whole house with unicorns to keep it there.
Upstairs you were dead to the world. The best sleep you’d had your entire third trimester. Unaware of the masculine princesses being coronated in your living room or fluffy new tenants that won’t be helping towards the rent.
Summary: a DITL vlog featuring angry ginge’s baby momma/fiancé, baby Tilly and boob debates x
I think I’ve cooked here y’know. It’s proven time and time again having another joint makes the words flow!! I’m never judging my creative process again thank you x
The vlog opened to you lying in bed, Morgan already up for the day judging by the empty space beside you.
“Good morning!!” You smiled towards the camera “Tilly woke us up like 5 minutes ago so Morgan went to get her breakfast”
The angle wobbled slightly as you stood up out of bed and walked into the bathroom.
“Anyway I look absolutely rubbish so I’m going to shower! Next time you see me I’ll hopefully look human again”
Matilda was sat in her high chair covered in some sort of orange goo they’d advertised in Tescos as baby food. You were leaning forwards onto the bench, Morgan at the table behind you still feeding Tilly.
“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.
“Bye chat. Like, subscribe, respect breastfeeding mothers” He leaned right into the lens, far too close. The screen cut abruptly as you laughed and shoved the camera away.
can you do a drabble of morgan and his mrs waking up in the bov house together
You and Morgan had a late night - leading you to stay at the Bov house instead of your own home. Something you’d have to get used to once everything had been moved over and you’d officially moved in with them all.
It was late morning - almost midday when the sound of Charlie chasing Ryan around the house woke you up. Their hyena laughs reverberating through the bedroom door.
Clearly it disturbed Morgan too and he turned over burying his head into your shoulder. “Fuck sake. Surely it’s far too early for them to be this hyper?”
His words were muffled by your shoulder but you shared the sentiment, bringing a hand up to run through the ginger mop on the top of his head.
“Best get used to it babe - we’re stuck with them now. Your idea for a content house remember?”
He let out another groan into your skin, arms pulling you impossibly closer to him.
As if sensing your sheer annoyance the door to your bedroom was swung open. Loudly banging against the wall making you jump and pull the duvet up to your chin. Morgan looked up - arms still securely around your midsection as Chaz and Ryan stood in the doorframe with cheeky grins on their faces - vod guy making sure he got the four of you in frame.
“Goooooood moooooorning shaggers” Ryan sang out with a chuckle. “Anything you want to say to the stream this morning reader?”
The three (four if you include the camera) were met with sleepy glares from Morgan and yourself - causing another round of laughter from the chaos goblins themselves.
“Get the fuck out of our room. You didn’t even knock, we could’ve been naked or something and you’re full on streaming us? Are you alright in the head”
“In all fairness mate - we didn’t think about that” Charlie attempted to defend himself. “And we forget you’ve got a girlfriend - with you looking like a massive virgin and everything”
“And you just look massive mate - fuck off” You swatted Morgan’s arm for his comment about Chazza’s weight. Chaz himself pulling a can you believe this guy? Expression to the viewers.
“Clearly we’re not wanted here Chaz - let’s go see what Jakey’s up to. He’ll treat us better” Ryan said pulling Charlie in the direction of Jakey’s bedroom taking vod guy with him.
He’s a big cuddler. So soft with you, gentle kisses on your face and in your hairline. Will get you anything you want - from ordering food, running a bath or just playing with your hair. Always cleans you up afterwards, never lets you do it yourself.
b: body part (their favourite body part on each other)
Him; Your tits. He’s always got his eyes on them if you’re wearing a low cut top. When relaxing his hands automatically cup your breasts through your top. Had a bad day? His head will be on your chest hand squeezing your free boob.
You; his arms - especially now he’s getting into the gym more and his biceps are growing you can’t help but bite them whenever his arms are out. Or his hands, his long fingers always fill you up so good and the veins on the back of them get your knickers wet.
c: cum (anything to do with cum)
Loves finishing inside, it’s his favourite place. He’ll watch it come out of you and push it back in - loves the thought of getting you pregnant. If he’s not finishing inside he’ll be finishing on your tits - scoops his cum up afterwards getting you to suck his fingers clean.
d: dirty (a dirty secret of theirs)
Has a full album of all the nudes you’ve ever sent him that he goes through whenever you aren’t with him. He also loves watching you get yourself off - turns him on knowing you can’t get your fingers deep enough like he can, seeing you get more frustrated that you’re just out of reach of where you need to be.
Really turns him on knowing he’s the one that took your virginity and no one else has been with you or seen you come apart the way he has. No one else knows your body and your reactions to certain touches.
Will fuck you awake if you’ve fallen asleep before he’s home - it’s consensual, and he loves the power he has over you and watching you wake up as he’s claiming you
e: experience (how experienced are they?)
They were each others firsts so in the beginning it was awkward and rushed but as you grew together and got to know each others bodies he knows exactly how to touch you to have you finishing in 2 minutes if he really wants to.
f: favourite position
Cowgirl. Gets to see your tits bouncing in his face, can easily lean up to get your nipples in his mouth. Full view of your face as you cum on his cock too.
g: goofy (are they serious or humorous?)
Everything about Morgan is goofy - he doesn’t have a serious bone in his body. He’s not cracking jokes but he isn’t serious at all, he’s a big tease. Sex is something soft familiar and casual with him - soft giggles when he kisses in a particularly tickly spot. At times he can be serious - if he’s in a bad mood or he’s feeling particularly dominant.
h: hair (how well groomed is he?)
He trims - keeps everything tidy. He’s not really bothered cares more about your opinion than what he actually looks like down there.
i: intimacy (how are they during the moment?)
Focuses more on your pleasure than his own. Cares that you feel good and you’re having a good time. Doesn’t believe in having sex without having you cum on his face at least once.
j: jack off (how often do they do it?)
Very very rarely. Since you’ve lived together for so long he’s not really got to, if he’s away for a charity match/video ect he prefers phone sex so you can get off together - if that’s not possible he has his trusty folder of your nudes.
k: kinks (what kinks do they have?)
Has a breeding kink - loves filling you up. Especially since being together for so long the idea of getting you pregnant really gets him going.
Choking/spanking - he knows you love his hands and he loves being in control. Likes having that power over you while also knowing you’re getting off on it just as much as he is.
Marking/possession - hand prints, bruises, hickeys. Loves seeing the aftermath of your session and knowing other people will see the fact you’re taken.
l: location (favourite location to do it)
Boring but in bed. No risk of being interrupted or caught. Feels safe and he doesn’t have to rush like he does when he bends you over the bench or you ride him in his office.
m: motivation (what turns them on?)
Loves when you’re yourself - no makeup, not dressed up just big T-shirt and knickers legs on display. Added bonus if you’re wearing on of his shirts - especially a football shirt.
When you’re in a mood and being bitchy with him - wants to fuck the attitude out of you till you’re whining underneath him.
n: no (what they wouldn't do/ turn offs)
Anything that would hurt you - hell spank you and choke you but only to a certain extent. He’s dominant and will tease but isn’t into degradation at all - you’re everything to him so calling you names doesn’t sit right with him at all.
o: oral (preference & skill)
He will have you cum on your face every time you have sex. If he’s feeling nice he can make you finish in two minutes. He’s learned exactly how and were to lick and suck to push you over the edge but that’s with years of experience - at first he wasn’t the best and it was all fumbly and awkward.
Will never turn down a blowjob. Prefers giving to receiving as your pleasure gets him off but he’s simply a man. Loves seeing tears brim your eyes as you try take him all, big innocent eyes blinking up at him
p: pace
Steady and intentional- bases it on your reaction to his movements. Will speed up/slow down if that’s what you want but he’s normally somewhere in the middle not too fast but not too slow. Doesn’t want it to feel rushed
q: quickie (their opinions)
He prefers not to have them. If he’s going to have you he wants to take his time and really make you fall apart. He will if you’re going out with the girls and are wearing a particularly sexy outfit. Or now with him ‘living’ at the bov house part time he’ll have you quickly and quietly so none of the other boys are aware
r: risks (do they take them?)
The biggest risk he takes is someone catching yous at the bov house when he can’t keep his hands off you.
Car sex occasionally - only late at night to lessen the risk of being caught.
On a night out he will touch you up over your clothes, definitely kisses that shouldn’t be had in public - especially if he notices another lad looking your way.
s: stamina
He can go 2-3 rounds every time you have sex. Stamina has definitely improved as he’s gotten healthier. He likes to draw out the pleasure you both feel during
t: toys (do they use them? if so how much?)
He’s not opposed to them. I can see him buying you one of the app controlled vibrators he’d make you wear around the house and set off at random times of the day. Also see you buying him a clone-a-willy as a gag gift one year and he makes you use it on FaceTime when he’s not there.
u: unfair (opinions on teasing)
He’s a big tease. Loves edging you - seeing the frustration build on your face each time he denies you of an orgasm. Definitely teases more in public when there’s nowhere for you to go to get off, likes to build it up so when you get home he can ruin you
v: volume (how loud are they in the moment?)
Big on praise and talking you through it. After his stream yesterday I just know he’s a groaner, leaning down groaning into your neck when he’s close biting down on the junction between your neck and shoulder as he cums so he’s not loud.
w: wildcard (random headcanon)
Gets him going that you’re so public with your affection for him. You’re open with finding him attractive and how active your sex life is - smug that it’s public knowledge he gets to fuck you and he does a good job at that
x: x-ray (what's going on beneath the belt?)
Morgan is a big boy, all over. He’s slightly bigger than average. Girthier than average too. Slightly veiny too
y: yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Higher than average - yous have sex at least 3 times a week. More often if you initiate cause he can’t say no to you.
z: zzz (how quickly do they fall asleep after?)
Makes sure you’re okay before anything else, likes to try fall asleep after you but he’s so busy sometimes he’s out before he can stop himself.
