BEER GARDEN ── a.buttle ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚
summary: you just have to take advantage of the good weather
content: dad!ab , swearing , some sexual innuendos (???) , a kid picking on arabella , crying , domestic fluff , arabella is 5 in this making u and alfie 25
notes: finally cranked this out after thinking about it all day
WITH THE EXCEPTIONAL circumstances around the weather, you and Alfie had decided that since you were back in Yorkshire for the weekend, you would go to your local pub for dinner and some drinks. It would also allow some time for Arabella to have a muck about at the playground and expend some energy, meaning putting her to sleep that night would be ten times easier.
You’d also decided on bringing the dogs with you, so they were perched on the backseat as well, being their usual controlled selves.
On the way there, she was sitting in her booster seat, humming along to the songs from your playlist (Alfie was banned from playing his songs in the presence of Arabella) and her feet were swinging back and forth as she looked out the window. Her hand rested casually on Chica’s back.
Alfie’s hand rested on your thigh as you scrolled aimlessly until he pulled into the car park and you got out.
He went to the front door of the pub with the dogs while you unstrapped Arabella, putting her down and allowing her to cling onto your hand.
“Alright you lot?” The pub owner smiled at the sight, “Long time no see.”
Alfie gave him a firm dap-up and gave him a brief run-down of how life was going in London before you went out into the garden area to take your seats.
It was one of those pubs in a country lane, so their ‘garden’ was really just a massive field with a few benches dotted around close to the door, and a plastic children’s playground within eyesight, no matter where you were sitting (unless you purposefully had your back to it of course).
“Slide, slide!” Arabella exclaimed, jumping up while squeezing your hand.
Her sudden excitement caused the dogs to start yapping at her.
“You can go and play in a bit, I want you to pick your dinner first.” You said, lifting her onto the bench.
Alfie tied the dogs’ lead to the support beams of the table, giving him freedom of his hands and the dogs freedom to roam somewhat close. You knew they were well-behaved enough to not roam too far, but you never knew about other people’s dogs.
You let out a startled, yet amused, laugh when Pablo jumped up on the bench beside Alfie, resting his head in his lap.
Alfie grinned, stroking over his head before turning his attention back to his girls.
“Daddy?” Arabella asked.
“What’s up?”
“… Can I play games—“
“No.” He shook his head, making sure his phone was tucked safely away in the pocket of his shorts.
“Why?” She whined with a pout.
“We’re here to eat and connect with nature.”
She scrunched her face up at his answer, “You don’t even like connecting with nature.”
You burst out into a fit of laughter at her retort.
Both you and Alfie had discussed Arabella’s increasing attitude multiple times, expressing concern about it, before coming to the conclusion that she was only this way because of you two, and you really had no room to complain.
“Bells, watch your mouth.” Alfie scolded lightly, “You’re not having my phone or mummy’s phone. Pick your food then go play.”
Watching him be so stern and proper dad-like always had an effect on you, whether that be butterflies in your tummy or something a little more heated and unsavoury for public conversation.
“Lasa-knee.” She grumbled, slipping off the bench and making her way to the playground.
“You need to stop encouraging her.” Alfie tutted, making you scoff and feign offence.
“Me? She gets it from both of us, thank you. Also, she’s not lying.”
He chuckled, shaking his head, “What do you want?”
“A burger’s fine.” You smiled, “Thanks, hon.”
He nodded, slightly adjusting Pablo so he was lying on the bench completely, and got up to head back inside and make your order.
You beckoned Chica over with a few kissing noises, reaching down under the table and massaging the area under her eyes while scratching her chin.
The sun was beating down on your back, a lovely contrast to the previous incessant horrible weather you’d been having recently. There were birds chirping in the trees overhead and you could just about make out the buzzing of grasshoppers in the tall blades that occupied the other fields that hadn’t been mown for the sake of a pub garden.
When Alfie returned, he had a ribena box in one hand, a pint in the other, and a basic coke sandwiched between them.
He placed the glasses down carefully and decided to sit beside you instead.
“Vodka coke for you.” He hummed.
“Oh, thanks!” You hummed, taking a sip through the straw.
You shared a conversation full of mindless jokes and thoughts, your faces teasingly close.
It got to a point where he was giving you light pecks in between each sentence, and then he was fully kissing you.
It wasn’t like the garden was very busy.
There was one other family there, but they were so loud and lost in their own business that they would never have noticed a young couple like you necking on across the yard from them.
Also, Arabella had seen you and Alfie kiss more than a handful of times before.
Your hand came to his cheek as his rested on your thigh, kneading your flesh over your jeans.
After pulling back, he muttered against your lips, “You look great today.”
What you didn’t fail to notice was his eyes on your chest, “Me? Or my tits?” You quipped with a smirk.
“Mmm … both.”
You scoffed and slapped his arm playfully, causing him to pull you back towards him.
“What? Can’t I appreciate the banging face and body of the beautiful mother of my child?”
You sighed exasperatedly, as if he was causing you loads of stress, before leaning over and pecking his cheek.
All was peaceful and calm until the dogs started growling, faces directed at the play area.
The both of you furrowed your brows, Alfie telling the dogs to pipe down as you looked over, immediately spotting what was wrong.
A boy, no older than seven, stood over Arabella, who was now on her bottom on the floor.
“What the fuck!” You exclaimed, immediately getting up.
You were never one for confrontation, but you were not about to let your little girl get picked on by a boy nearly twice her size.
Arabella was sobbing as she stood up, only for the boy to shove her again.
“Oi!” Alfie snapped.
“Leave me alone!” Arabella wailed, pushing him back.
“Bella!” You shouted, rushing over.
“Mummy!” She screeched.
“Oh, baby.” You pouted, crouching in front of her as she clung to you, “What happened?”
She was far too caught up in her own emotions, hiccuping and chest wracking with harsh sobs as she buried her face into your neck.
“What happened?” Alfie asked, standing behind you.
You shrugged, “She hasn’t said.”
“Did you push her?” He looked to the young boy.
“Yeah, but she was on the swing too long!”
“You pushed my daughter? You don’t ever put your hands on other people, do you understand?”
“She should get off when I ask!”
“No, she shouldn’t. If you had a problem you should’ve told an adult.” You said, opting for a much calmer approach than Alfie.
You were both seething, but you were doing a better job at hiding it.
“Are you shouting at my kid?!” Someone exclaimed from behind you.
You both turned around to see a woman approaching, anger written all over her face.
“No one’s shouting at him.” You explained calmly, “We’re just telling him he can’t be pushing people for not getting his own way.”
“Who’s he pushing?”
You blinked, as if it wasn’t obvious by the sobbing five-year-old in your arms.
“My daughter?”
His mum glared at him, “You think it’s funny pushing little girls over?!”
“She wouldn’t move, mum!”
“Don’t care. Get back inside now.” Her tone was stern and she spoke through gritted teeth before turning to you all, “Sorry about him.”
She practically carried her son away, dragged him by the arm and berating him the entire time.
“Baby, are you hurt?”
She shook her head, still clinging onto you.
You let out a heavy exhale, lifting her into your arms and carrying her back to the table.
The dogs were alert, sniffing around her upon hearing her cries.
Alfie once again sat on your side of the bench, having Bella sandwiched between the two of you.
You wiped her face as Alfie approached her mouth with the straw of her ribena carton.
She sniffled and huffed, taking it and sipping lightly as her back jolted with suppressed sobs.
“We’re proud of you for standing up for yourself, darlin’.” Alfie muttered, “You did the right thing, okay?”
She nodded, wiping her cheeks and leaning into her dads hold.
“Alfie,” You sighed, keeping your voice low to a whisper, “We can’t tell her it’s okay to hit other kids back.”
“Yes, we can.” He said, “I’d rather she hit back than stand there and take it, I don’t care.”
You couldn’t help but agree with him, despite what the other half of you was thinking.
If she ever ended up in this type of scenario when she’s older at school, teachers won’t accept any excuses for hitting back, but then they’d also have to deal with yours and Alfie’s wrath on why she felt the need to hit back when teachers should be stepping in.
Anyway, that was a bridge you’d cross if and when you got to it.
Thankfully, the food came rather quickly, and Alfie took it upon himself to be the one to feed Arabella this evening. He cut up little pieces of her lasagne, blowing on it until it was cool enough for her to consume.
You had moved to the other side of the bench, having cut your burger in half and began feeding the beef patty to the dogs in even chunks.
You weren’t particularly hungry this evening, probably something to do with the weather being so warm.
“Mummy?” Arabella piped up while she had cheese sauce dripping down her chin.
Alfie quickly wiped it away.
“Yes, baby?”
“Can I go and play again?”
“Are you finished?”
She looked down at her dish of lasagne, seeing it empty by three quarters.
“Well … I’m full?”
“Okay, go on then. But be careful, and don’t be too fast. I don’t want you being sick.”
“Thank you!” She grinned, jogging back to the play area, which was now void of any children except herself.
You and Alfie watched her go down the slide numerous times, giggling every single one of them as if she’d never get bored of it. You also watched as she tumbled over the end a little too fast, landing on her hands and knees. You winced, wanting to step in, but you knew giving her attention over something so silly would only make her cry more.
Alfie’s body sagged in relief as she stood, brushed herself off and went again.
The temperature dropped noticeably, but not dramatically, as the sun set beneath the horizon, casting an orange hue to the sky.
It was when the midges came out and you noticed the dogs passed out on the floor that you decided to call it a night.
“Bella!” You called out for her as you stood from the bench, “We’re going now!”
“Okay!” She replied, coming back over, “Mummy, I’m cold.”
“I know, it has gotten chilly, hasn’t it?” You hummed, pleased as she took your hand.
You knew that as she got older, she’d begin showing less affection to her mum. You noticed it in yourself while you grew up, so seeing her still being all over you and desperate to hold on filled you with a little more comfort.
In the car, Alfie had the heaters on, but there was no music playing, just the sounds of tires on tarmac and the world rushing past.
You peered around your seat, realising that Arabella had been quiet for far too long.
“She’s out.” You whispered, smiling adoringly.
Alfie glanced in the rearview mirror, a similar expression forming on his face.
He did a quick drop off of the dogs at his mums, saying goodnight before heading back to the grotto.
He was the one to carry her in, her cheek smushed against his shoulder, drool pooling on her bottom lip and leaking onto his shirt, making you chuckle softly.
Even in sleep, she was aware of both of your presence, because when he tried to lie her down in bed, she whined and clung on tighter.
“Bella,” You cooed, “It’s bedtime, baby. Think about your bed, hm?”
She whined again, but let Alfie put her down.
He went to lock up the house while you changed her out of her dungarees and into her nightie.
As your regular repetitive ritual, you both kissed her forehead before flicking the light off and closing the door.
You yawned loudly as you stripped of your day clothes and slipped on one of Alfie’s old shirts, watching as he got down to his boxers, both of you getting into bed at the same time.
You curled your arms around his waist as his caged your head to his chest. You cackled as he squeezed, smushing your nose into his skin, making you slap his back to stop.
Glancing up at him, you found him already staring.
You could just about make out his features through the barely-there moonlight.
Slow, tender kisses were shared before bed, the sound of lips moving filling the room until you called it a night by rolling over and letting his body encompass yours from behind.
“Night, love you.” You hummed.
“Love you too.” He yawned, kissing your shoulder a final time.
