you and alfie try soft launching the fact that you have a daughter, but the internet struggles to catch on.
content/warnings: smau, dad!ab, established relationship (alfie and reader have been together since school), your daughter is 2ish years (sorry if some pictures aren’t as consistent with her age), teeniest bit suggestive right at the end
notes: my first request! the original ask for anyone who wants to see can be found here. feel free to request anything you’d like, just check my rules first! <3
yourusername
liked by sabinablair_, glambyflo, and others
yourusername life lately 🧸
👥 alfiebuttle
view comments…
glambyflo need one of those matchas next xx
yourusername glambyflo i’ll let you know next time i make one!!
livvydimartino you look sooo cosy in the last pic
yourusername livvydimartino just me and my favorite boy taking a nap together (the cat)
alfiebuttle yourusername i’m not your favorite boy?
yourusername alfiebuttle number three at best x
alfiebuttle yourusername well who’s number two??
yourusername alfiebuttle harry styles.
username alfie’s so smiley what a cutie
username know for a fact all those stuffed animals are alfie’s he seems like the type to secretly keep them all 😂😂
username alfie plays with stuffed animals confirmed…?
alfiebuttle username it’s not what it looks like
username alfiebuttle sure mate
alfiebuttle
liked by theburntchip, sabinablair_, and others
alfiebuttle little beach motive
👥 yourusername
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theburntchip glad to see you still embracing your inner child neph
alfiebuttle theburntchip don’t rage bait me unc
yourusername cheers to alfie for making me carry the giant flumping bag 🙄
alfiebuttle yourusername my hands were a bit full carrying something else tbf
yourusername alfiebuttle yeah that big head of yours xx
alfiebuttle yourusername wtf ??
username first alfie’s playing with stuffed animals, now he’s playing with toy trucks… y/n is a strong soldier for putting up w that lol
alfiebuttle username I DO NOT PLAY WITH TOYS
yourusername and alfiebuttle
🎵 hey daddy (daddy’s home) — usher
liked by alfiebuttle, livvydimartino, and others
yourusername alfie was sick of you lot thinking he plays with toys… meet baby willa 🤍
👥 alfiebuttle
view comments…
alfiebuttle now let’s make another one 😏
yourusername alfiebuttle not funny alf
alfiebuttle yourusername it wasn’t a joke y/n
sabinablair_ willa is just the sweetest little muffin 🥹💕
yourusername sabinablair_ she misses her auntie sabina!
livvydimartino the hardest secret i’ve ever kept! love you guys xxxx
yourusername livvydimartino love you so much more livvy!
username THEY WEREN’T ALFIE’S TOYS???!?!!!
username username the fact that everyone just accepted that alfie probably plays with toys at the beach is SO FUNNY
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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.
“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.
ummm every day i fail to post rocky waters chapter 3 i hate myself a little bit more so here's some dad!alfie headcanons and shit to ease my mind!
He's talked a big game about the prospect ever since you were just a few months into your relationship, but when it finally becomes real, that boy is shitting himself instantly.
Constantly on the phone to his mum; once, your morning sickness had lasted longer than usual and while he held your hair back, he dialed her number to ask if he should be concerned. Sometimes he just wants a second opinion from the person he trusts most (besides you ofc), and others he's near-crumbling as he gets overwhelmed at the thought of being a dad, feeling like a little boy again preening for his mother's approval.
She absolutely adores you, by the way—constantly doting and making sure you're both as comfortable and prepared as you possibly could be, always telling him he should be proud to call you his kid's mother. And he knows.
God, does he know it. He lingers quietly while you scroll through TikTok, scouring through pages giving advice to first-time parents, or reading a book of baby names, or strolling slowly past the baby food aisles, giddily anticipating the arrival of your little one.
During labour, he's doing everything in his power to make sure you're as content as can be, rubbing your back, fetching whatever you request in record-time. But when he gets a moment to himself in the loo, he wrings his hands and breathes heavily and stares at himself in the mirror for much too long before surfacing again to find you.
The only thing that makes the worries as to whether he'll be a good dad go away, is the baby itself. Washed by the nurses, bundled up in soft pink blankets as they hand her over, seeing her is the only thing that's been able to settle is pounding heart since you first arrived at the hospital however many hours ago. His eyes leave the mass of soft flesh only to seek out yours—his are glistening as he grins. "She's so bloody cute, babe. Look..."
With hands nearing the size of a gorilla's, he starts to worry he might hurt such a small thing, and panics when she shifts.
"Fuck... What if I hurt her...?" he whispers.
Shaking your head, giving a lathargic smile, you murmur, "You won't... Don't swear."
"Shi- uh.. yeah. Christ..."
He hates the fact that it's (mostly) unsafe to cosleep—if he could, he'd have your bundle of joy splayed between and across the two of your bodies all night, every night, just to ensure she's as close as possible, thinking her crib must be cold and uncomfy.
Happily Elatedly, shows her off to his mates, his family, everyone from the YouTube scene, anyone who'll spare a glance at a picture, actually. Hell, he showed his favourite Subway (the only one he actually trusted to make his sandwich) worker a photo, just because.
The first few weeks, spent almost wholly indoors, curled up in bed, caring for you and the baby, are some of the most blissful days of his life.
Thankfully, he never really has to work all that much, so gets to spend as long as he likes with his girls, or preparing—he's taken to watching videos of how to do hairstyles ("Yes, I know she's not got hair yet, love, but she will, and I'm gonna have to do it right, yeah? Just- zzzip, and lemme watch this.")
Gets actually giddy when you send him photos of her, or videos, or even little text descriptions of what she's doing, whenever he's been at work and can't be there. Spends his nights away on FaceTime, cooing at the sight of the sleeping girl, whispering that "Daddy's gonna be home soon, darling, I promise.."
He finds it therapuetic to make bottles for his princess, setting up his phone on the kitchen counter and filming for his Snapchat story as he (topless, of course, because he knows you like to watch them and screen record them) rambles about how things have been.
"-Also, can you all stop fucking asking when we're gonna post her? I don't know! And, being real here, it's a bit odd you wanna see a kid anyway, so just fuck off, yeah? Right now, we don't want pictures of her out there, and that's our right, so leave it out. Anyway... uh, yeah, Reader's out with her now, and she asked me to make up some bottles, cause she's having a break from breastfeeding today, so just shut up, watch and learn."
This man cannot for the life of him figure out how carseats work! It just stays in the back seat (behind the passenger seat so he can always quickly glance back and keep an eye on the girl within it), to prevent having to take it to and from the house too much. And because trying to buckle it down is the finest form of ragebait for him. He excuses it because "that's what it's for. Carseat, innit? For the car."
You won't catch him dead being a beige parent!!!! His girl looooves bright colours and whatever she wants, she gets, so if she wants to go out in a banana suit, fuck yeah he's gonna allow it!
Such a hypocrite though because he rolled his eyes all the way to Heaven when you insisted on getting cute cutlery and bowls and plates with sweet patterns on, but when he's scrubbing them clean in the sink, he's cheesing the whole time.
Thinks himself the luckiest bastard in the whole world for having you and the baby, and is not quiet about it. Like at all. The Fellas podcast has even started a designated 'baby segment' for him to brag about how you've been as a mum, or which part of the local park his daughter likes best, or the new foods she's been getting onto — "Nah, she's a right fussy kid, she will only sleep if we read certain books. She's right obsessed with the Mr Men, actually. But I think we're gonna have to get her a little guinea pig or something when she's a bit older, cause obviously we wanna get a dog, but, like, wanna train her first, to actually take care of a pet. Well, that's what the Mrs said and I trust her, so.."
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Request - I was wondering if you could write a fic about his Mrs pregnant and how he’d be through the 9 months.
Warnings - none, I wish tumblr would stop giving everything a content label!!
Finding out
- When you told him you were pregnant, Alfie was shocked to say the least, he kind of went quiet for a while after. He lunged forward and hugged you tightly but stayed quiet, burying his face in your neck. He didn’t know what to say.
- “Are we doing this then…?” He’d finally say, pulling away to look at your face, when you nod, he smiles and presses a few kisses against your lips.
- “There’s no one else in the world I’d rather do this with…”
- Tells chip immediately and makes him swear on his life not to tell anyone, not even Sabina or “bad things will happen”
Little does he know, Sabina was the first to know.
1st trimester
- Alfie is fully aware that you are capable of doing things for yourself at this stage of pregnancy, but he can’t help but give you special treatment.
- He’d be slightly overprotective of you, but not overbearing.
- When your stomach first starts to grow, he can’t stop touching it and kissing it. He’ll even show literally everyone in the fellas office, I mean everyone.
“Cal, look at this.” He’s say and poke your exposed belly, it doesn’t look like much but he’s still so proud of it.
- He’d be scared to have sex at first, he doesn’t want to hurt you and to be honest he finds it kinda strange. But he’d soon warm up to it and get comfortable, even googling positions that are safe for you and the baby.
- Overthinks everything you do, like if you cough weird or if you stand up at a different angle, even if you eat something that he doesn’t think you should be eating.
“I don’t trust that grape…” he’d say as he carefully takes it out of your hand as if it’s poisonous.
“Are you sure that’s safe for you?”
His search history includes:
‘What kind of cough is a bad cough during pregnancy’
‘Should a pregnant woman stand up without using her hands’
‘Should a pregnant woman sit on the floor’
‘Can a pregnant woman eat an excessive amount of cheese’
“Okay, carry on eating the cheese. You’re fine.” He’d waft his hand as he reads what the search results say.
“Thank you.” You reply and immediately grab a handful of the grated cheese and shove it in your mouth.
- Lowkey terrified but hides it, he doesn’t hide it well. You always notice the way his face drops when you move slightly too vigorously for his liking.
- One morning you got back from using the bathroom and climbed ontop of him on the bed with a big grin on your face.
“Woah… slow down, girl…” He grabs your hips to stop you and lays you down gently on your side, kissing your temple.
“Baby.” He pokes your belly, “In there. Careful.” He points his finger in your face with a fake stern expression as you giggle.
2nd trimester
- Talks about the baby in vlogs, making you stand up from your cosy spot on the couch to show the vlog how big your bump is getting. It’s not even that big, apparently he’s just easily impressed by baby bumps.
- Comes to all the appointments with you, holding your hand and keeping you entertained by cracking jokes in the waiting room.
- When he first hears the heartbeat of the baby, he absolutely melts. He brings your hand up to his lips and presses them against the back of your hand, trying to act like he’s not tearing up.
“Nah, that’s mad…” He says in disbelief, you giggle at his reaction because it’s the most Alfie thing ever.
- When he finds out your boobs also get bigger and firmer, he’ll sit on the couch next to you and stare at them. His face is deadly serious as he pokes them and squints his eyes at them.
“Are you sure they’re bigger?” He tilts his head.
“Yes. I’m very sure. I can’t fit into my bras anymore and my favourite shirt doesn’t fit over my stupid boobs and my stupid bump. Actually, nothing fits me anymore and I’m not even that big yet.” You snap, tearing up as you finally let out what you’ve bottled up for the entirety of the last week.
That’s when he realises that the mood swings and high emotions are going to be a challenge.
“Oh… okay… sorry…” He says quietly and sits back on the couch, carefully rubbing your back as to not agitate you any further. “You look beautiful, by the way. Hard boobs and all…” He’d tell you, keeping the volume of his voice quiet.
“Thank you.” You respond simply and rest your head on his shoulder.
- Starts telling dad jokes to your stomach. It’s painful.
Third trimester
- He is in a constant war with your emotions.
“Look at my gorgeous, plump, sexy girlfriend…” he smirks as he walks up behind you, running his hands over your protruding stomach.
“Plump?”
“Sorry…” He mumbles and rests his chin on your shoulder.
- Tries to be calm during mood swings but sometimes just stands there like 🧍🏻♀️ just processing.
- He keeps a pregnancy app on his phone and checks it daily, even though the baby hasn’t grown since yesterday.
- He says good morning and good night to the baby every day with a little kiss to the bump and then your forehead. He never misses it.
- Helps you with your shoes and pants without even thinking about it.
“Thank you…” you mumble, feeling slightly defeated because you can’t do it yourself.
“No problem, love…” he pats your belly with a small smile.
- He notices little things that you keep reaching for, like chapstick, your favourite snacks or even which socks he noticed you wear more often now. So he tries to give you them before you ask for them, feeling accomplished when you mutter a small thank you to him.
- When it starts to get closer to your due date, this man if freaking out. Silently, but he’s freaking out.
- He’ll pack the hospital bag multiple times because he’s scared to forget something.
“I’m just gonna put an extra pair of socks in…” He mutters as he unzips the bag to slip the socks in.
“Alf, have you even packed anything for yourself?” You ask him, a small smile on your face as you watch him panic slightly before putting his hands up.
“It’s all about you, girl. I’ll figure it out when I get to it.” He tells you smoothly, a small smirk on his lips.
authors note: first ever dad!ab fic! first ever real fic! i hope i did him justice as i have never written dad!anyone ever. if dad!ab becomes it’s own thing then we need a name for her asap!! <3
warnings: none
four times your daughter got exactly what she wanted ─ ꫂ᭪݁˚꩜⋆₊ alfie buttle !
one, it started at half past five, which was exactly twenty-three minutes before dinner and therefore the worst possible time for your daughter to decide she wanted ice cream.
she’d wandered into the kitchen with her favourite stuffed rabbit tucked beneath one arm and immediately spotted the tub sitting in the freezer drawer while you were looking for peas.
her eyes had widened with the sort of excitement only a five-year-old could manage, like she’d just uncovered buried treasure instead of vanilla ice cream.
before you could even shut the freezer, she was already tugging at your sleeve.
“can i have some?”
you didn’t even look up from what you were doing. “no, sweetheart. dinner’s nearly ready.”
she frowned as though she’d never heard anything so unreasonable in her entire life. “but i really want some.”
“after dinner.”
the answer clearly wasn’t acceptable because she stood there for another moment, staring at you as if you might suddenly change your mind.
when you didn’t, she let out the world’s most dramatic sigh and shuffled out of the kitchen.
unfortunately for you, alfie chose that exact moment to walk in.
your daughter’s head snapped up the second she spotted him.
“daddy.”
alfie stopped mid-step. “yeah, angel?”
“mummy said i can’t have ice cream.”
you watched him glance between the two of you before immediately realising he’d walked straight into a trap.
"well" he started carefully.
"because dinner is soon," you interrupted.
"because dinner is soon," alfie repeated quickly.
your daughter looked horrified.
"you said no?"
"yes."
"oh."
she sounded genuinely devastated.
for a second neither of you said anything. then she slowly nodded, hugged her rabbit closer to her chest and wandered off down the hallway.
alfie frowned.
"i feel bad."
you pointed a wooden spoon at him. "don't."
"i'm just saying."
"don't."
the house remained suspiciously quiet for around thirty seconds.
then came the sound of tiny feet racing back towards the kitchen.
your daughter reappeared in the doorway looking significantly different than she had before.
somehow she'd managed to brush her hair back, put on the pink cardigan she only ever wore when she wanted compliments and was clutching her rabbit like she'd just survived a terrible ordeal.
she stood there silently for a moment, blinking up at the two of you with enormous sad eyes.
you immediately knew what she was doing.
alfie, meanwhile, looked seconds away from folding.
"daddy?" she asked softly.
"yeah, baby?"
"can i have just a little bit of ice cream?"
you closed your eyes. there it was. the voice.
the one she only used when she wanted something.
alfie physically melted before your eyes. "well..."
"no."
"i was just thinking maybe-"
"no."
your daughter looked at him hopefully.
"i'm very hungry."
"you're hungry because it's nearly dinner."
she considered this and nodded softly.
you felt victorious for approximately two seconds.
"but ice cream would help."
alfie turned away to hide a laugh.
you pointed at him again.
"don't encourage her."
"i'm not."
he absolutely was.
your daughter must have realised she was making progress because she abandoned you entirely and shuffled closer to alfie.
after a moment she wrapped her arms around one of his legs and rested her cheek against his knee. “please, daddy”
you watched alfie's soul leave his body.
"alfie."
"i know."
"don't."
"i know."
your daughter blinked up at him, "daddy?"
"yeah?"
"i think i'm getting sad."
you nearly laughed. alfie looked like he was going to break.
"you're not getting sad, baby, you’re just not getting your own way.", you whispered gently to her as you crouched down.
"a little bit sad", she gestured the amount with her fingers
"you're really not."
"a tiny bit."
she held her fingers a centimetre apart to demonstrate.
alfie sighed.
"how much ice cream are we talking?"
your jaw dropped. "alf.", you scolded.
"what?"
"what happened to no?"
he looked genuinely confused. "this is still no, girl, chill out”.
"how?"
"we're discussing it."
your daughter grinned. she actually grinned.
the little traitor girl knew she'd won.
within three minutes the two of them were somehow standing at the kitchen counter negotiating quantities like business partners finalising a contract.
your daughter wanted three scoops. alfie suggested two. she countered with three and a half. he settled on two and a half.
you had never seen anything so ridiculous in your life.
"why are you negotiating with her?" you asked.
"because she's negotiating with me."
"she's four.”
your daughter nodded seriously.
"i know numbers."
"she knows numbers, angel" alfie agreed as he leant over and placed a sloppy dramatic kiss on your cheek.
you stared at both of them.
eventually, despite your best efforts, a bowl of ice cream appeared on the counter.
it was not a little tiny bit. it wasn't even close.
your daughter climbed onto a chair and immediately started eating while kicking her legs happily beneath the table. alfie sat beside her looking far too pleased with himself for someone who'd completely abandoned the original plan.
you shook your head.
"honestly, you're worse than she is."
"that's not true."
your daughter looked up from her spoon.
"is true.", she giggled
alfie gasped.
"whose side are you on?"
she thought about it for all of two seconds, "mummy’s ."
"after i got you ice cream?", alfie had a disappointed look on his face while she just nodded with a smile on her face
"thanks for that, angel."
your daughter giggled so hard she nearly dropped her spoon.
twenty minutes later she announced she was completely full and couldn't possibly eat another bite of dinner.
you slowly turned your head towards alfie.
he stared at his plate.
"it wasn't that much ice cream, don’t get stroppy on me, girl”, he started.
two, your daughter appeared in the living room long after she’d supposedly gone to bed, clutching her rabbit under one arm and dragging her blanket behind her.
she’d clearly been asleep at some point because half her hair was sticking up in different directions.
you looked up from where you were sitting beside alfie on the sofa.
“why are you out of bed, baby?”, you asked quietly.
she shrugged, “hard to sleep.”
“you were asleep twenty minutes ago.”
another shrug, “not now.”, she explained.
alfie tried to hide his smile, “come here then.”
she immediately climbed onto the sofa and squeezed herself between the two of you. somehow, despite being tiny, she managed to take up an unreasonable amount of space.
within seconds she was tucked against alfie’s side while still leaning half her weight against you.
“better?” alfie asked.
she nodded.
you already knew where this was heading. “you’re still sleeping in your own bed, you’re a big girl now”, you stroked her hair softly.
her head snapped up.
“what?”
“nice try.”
“i didn’t do anything, mummy!”
“you didn’t need to.”
your daughter frowned as if she genuinely couldn’t understand why you weren’t falling for this.
for the next few minutes she sat there quietly, which honestly should’ve been another warning sign. eventually she started playing with one of the sleeves on alfie’s hoodie.
“daddy.”
“hmm?”
“if i was a little bit scared.”
you immediately looked over and alfie laughed.
“a little bit scared?”
she nodded.
“yeah.”
“of what?”
she thought about it. “the dark.”
“you’ve got a nightlight.”
“oh.”
she thought about that too. “the window then.”
“the window?”
“yeah.”
“what’s wrong with the window?”. she didn’t reply, instead she shrugged and rested her head back on alfie.
alfie snorted and you buried your face in your hands.
your daughter ignored you completely and climbed further into alfie’s lap.
“daddy?”
“yeah, angel?”
“can i have a sleepover with you and mummy?”
there it was.
“no,” you both said.
your daughter’s mouth fell open. “both of you?”
“yes.”
“that’s not nice!”, she stropped angrily.
“you have your own room, baby .”
after another five minutes of unsuccessful begging, she was eventually returned to bed. there were complaints. there was dramatic sighing. there was one final attempt involving promises to be “the best sleeper ever.”
none of it worked. or so you thought.
because at three in the morning you woke up and immediately realised something was wrong.
the bed felt smaller. much smaller.
confused, you opened your eyes and looked down.
your daughter was there, curled up, her face resting on your stomach and her legs thrown over alfie’s.
you slowly turned your head. alfie was already awake.
you stared at your daughter. you couldn’t move her, not when she was sound asleep. “go back to bed angel”, alfie whispered and pecked your lips.
three, you were halfway through helping your daughter get dressed when you realised something was very wrong.
normally getting a five-year-old ready to leave the house involved at least three outfit changes, one argument over socks and a complete refusal to wear a coat.
today, however, she’d been suspiciously cooperative. she’d sat on her bed the entire time, humming to herself while you brushed her hair and chatting away about absolutely nothing important.
it wasn’t until you reached into her wardrobe for a t-shirt that she suddenly jumped up.
“no!”
you blinked, “what’s wrong, baby?”.
she scrambled across the room and pulled out a bright pink princess dress from the back of her wardrobe.
“this one.”
you looked at the dress.
“for tesco?”
she nodded enthusiastically, “yeah!”
you couldn’t help laughing.
honestly, there were worse battles to fight, “if that’s what you want.”
your daughter gasped dramatically, “really?”
“really.”
she immediately launched herself at you.
five minutes later she was fully dressed and absolutely delighted with herself. the dress practically swallowed her whole, the skirt puffing out around her legs as she spun in circles across her bedroom.
you’d just managed to fix her tiara for the third time when alfie’s voice drifted upstairs.
“are you two ready yet?”
“coming!”
you took your daughter’s hand and headed downstairs.
the second you stepped into the hallway, alfie looked up.
“what’s she wearing?”, he laughed to himself.
your daughter grinned. “a princess dress.”
“i can see that, girl”
he looked at you and you just shrugged, “she wanted to wear it.”
“to tesco?”
“yeah.”
alfie stared at the two of you like you’d completely lost your minds.
your daughter gave the skirt another twirl.
“pretty.”
“angel,” he said carefully, “you know we’re just going shopping, right?”
“i know.”
“for food.”
“yeah.”
“not a princess party.”
she frowned, “you can buy food at a princess party.”
you immediately looked away before he saw you smiling.
“don’t laugh.”
your daughter grabbed your hand.
“mummy likes my dress.”
“of course she does.”
“and i like my dress.”
“i can tell.”
she looked up at him expectantly.
“do you like my dress?”
alfie lasted about three seconds, “yeah, you look amazing, angel”, he kissed her forhead.
her face lit up.
“yay!”
“fine. but if you complain about being uncomfortable, i’m not listening.”, he said sternly.
“okay!”
“and if the tiara falls off every five minutes-”
“okay!”
“and if-”.
“okay!”
your daughter was already halfway to the front door.
alfie sighed.
you smiled sweetly, “love you.”
“yeah, yeah, love you too, girl.”
twenty minutes later, you and your daughter were wandering through tesco together while alfie pushed the trolley behind you. honestly, it was impossible not to smile watching her.
she looked absurd. the giant pink dress swished around her ankles every time she walked, the tiara kept slipping sideways and every reflective surface became an opportunity to admire herself.
“mummy!”
“yeah?”
“look.”
she pointed at her reflection in one of the fridge doors.
“i’m beautiful.”
four, bedtime in your apartment was supposed to be simple. bath, pyjamas, story, bed. unfortunately, your daughter had discovered that the “one story” rule wasn’t nearly as strict as it sounded, especially when you left alfie in charge of reading.
it started innocently enough. you’d tucked her in, kissed her forehead and reminded both of them that it was one story before heading downstairs to tidy the kitchen.
alfie had nodded and promised he’d only be ten minutes. your daughter had nodded too, although the mischievous look on her face suggested she already had other plans.
when you came back upstairs twenty minutes later, you could still hear alfie’s voice through the bedroom door.
you paused, “alf?”
the reading stopped immediately.
when you pushed the door open, your daughter was sitting up in bed looking suspiciously awake while alfie sat beside her with a book in his hands.
“i thought you were reading one story.”
“i did.”
you looked at the pile of books beside him, “that doesn’t look like one story.”
your daughter pointed at him immediately.
“put me in the dog house!”, he laughed while looking offended that his own daughter had snitched on him.
“you asked for another one.”
“and you said yes.”, you replied for your daughter.
“that’s not the point.”
your daughter grinned.
you already knew exactly what had happened. she’d asked for one more. alfie had agreed. then she’d asked for another one after that. and another. and another.
“how many have you read?” you asked and he had went quiet.
“alfie.”
“four.”
“four!”
“in my defence, they’re bare short.”
you stared at him.
your daughter buried her face in her blanket, trying to supress a laugh.
summary: you were invited along for the fellas restaurant vid, so you brought yours and alfie’s daughter along too.
content: established relationship , dad!ab , sexual innuendos , swearing
notes: finally bringing this to you all xx
YOU WERE SHOCKED at the production value of the Fellas Restaurant video. Though your boyfriend had been a member of the Fellas Family for a good few months now, it still felt unreal to see the amount of energy, time and expenses that were put into one video.
You and Sabina turned up to the shoot together, little 14-month-old Arabella sat on your hip, toying with your hair.
“Oh, there’s a little rocket out there!” Chip commented at the sight of his fiancee. “And little Arab! Hi!”
“Stop calling her that.” Alfie scoffed, “Bella is fine. Always gotta be complicated.”
“Josh, can we get special treatment?” Sabina asked.
“No, fuck off. You lot are stressing me out already.”
“No swearing around the baby!” She gasped, covering Arabella’s ears, making the baby giggle.
“Her dad’s AB, she’ll be fine.”
“Dada!” Arabella exclaimed.
“I’m here, girl, what d’you want?” Alfie poked his head out from the kitchen, “Gotta detach from daddy today, he’s on bar duty. Putting in a shift.”
“Well, yeah, Alf, you’re at work.” You sassed.
He waved you off, taking Arabella and tickling her sides.
She screeched loudly, giggling and writhing in his arms.
“None of that.” Cal said, “Immediately cut that shit out now.”
“Talk to my kid like that again.” Alfie snapped playfully. “She doesn’t even cry in public. She’s well-behaved.”
“Stan! See these rockets to their table!” Chip snapped his fingers.
The younger boy came rushing over, already sweating and began guiding you to your seats.
“Hi Bella.” Stan waved, making her grin at him, smacking a hand at him as a way to say hello.
You and Sabina sat down, and Flo and Liv arrived a few minutes later.
“Oh my God!” Liv exclaimed at the sight of the baby.
“You brought her with you?!” Flo gasped.
“Yeah, no point driving all the way up north to drop her off and then come back. Might as well just bring her to the shoot.” You said, having her perched on your lap.
“Hey Bella!” Flo cooed, “Can I hold?”
“Of course, yeah, yeah.” You held her out, allowing yourself some time for your arms to rest.
“What drinks have they got?” Liv asked.
“Alcohol or diet coke.”
“Is that it?” She barked out laughter.
“Yeah, you can probably ask for non-alcoholic, but Alfie’s behind the bar, so do with that what you will.”
“Oh, God, we’re not getting non-alcoholic drinks no matter what we order.” Flo groaned.
“Reader, did you bring Arabella?” Reev piped up from a few tables away.
“Yeah.”
“Can I say hello?”
“Yeah, ‘course!”
He came over, bending slightly at the knee to get face-to-face with the baby that was still in Flo’s arms.
“Hi!”
Arabella grinned, her chubby fingers reaching out and squeezing Reev’s chin.
“Thank you very much!” He laughed, making her giggle loudly. “Wait ‘til Theo comes back.”
“Where’s he gone?” Flo asked.
“Blank Street down the road.”
“He’s gone to Blank Street?!” All four of you exclaimed at the same time.
“‘Ank See!” Arabella tried to copy what you’d all said.
“Yes, Bella. How rude of Grandpa Theo to not offer to get us a Blank Street.” Sabina nodded, pouting dramatically at the baby.
“See you in a bit, Bella.” Reev waved before returning to his table.
—
You had ordered and received your drinks in the same amount of time that it took for Reev and Theo to get their food, making all of you girls start complaining.
“Here’s another drink from Alfie.” Stan rushed out, putting the glass down in front of you, “He said it’s meant to fizz like that.” And then he was off to serve another table.
“Alf!” You shouted out, shaking your head at his inappropriate joke.
“It’s lemonade, chill out, darlin’.” He winked at you.
“I wanted alcoholic.” You pouted.
“Oh, fucking hell, then.” He huffed, starting to make you another one from scratch. “D’you want spit in it?”
“As long as it’s yours.”
“Say nuttin’ darlin’.” He smirked whilst using his strange, deep voice, pretending to spit into the glass.
Arabella reached her hand out for the glass, but you were too focused on having a conversation with Alfie across the room.
“No!” Liv exclaimed, taking the glass and quickly moving it to her side of the table.
“Oh, shit, thanks, Liv.” You laughed.
Arabella’s bottom lip began to wobble, tears welling in her large round eyes that she most definitely inherited from you.
“Oh, no, I wasn’t shouting at you, babe.” Liv gasped, feeling awful.
She began crying lightly, not loud wails, but large globs of tears were streaking down her face.
“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”
“It’s okay.” You shook your head, “She’s just like me, she cries when anyone raises her voice in her direction.”
You shifted the baby’s body so that she was turned into you, face buried in your chest which was muffling her sniffles and coughs.
Alfie came over, leaving the freshly made drink in front of you, “Why’s she bawling?”
“Liv shouted out about her nearly dropping a drink off the table but Bella thought she was shouting at her.” You explained.
“I feel so bad.” Liv frowned.
Alfie grunted as he picked his daughter up, patting her back, “Quit the tears, darlin’. No need.”
“Dada.” She whined, clutching onto his shirt tightly, finding comfort in his large arms.
He bounced her lightly, kissing her cheek and swiping her tears away with the pad of his thumb. She calmed down a lot quicker in his arms than she did in yours, which was probably because he was incredibly nonchalant with her, getting her to stop crying and telling her that it didn’t matter because he was here now.
“Can we just say, we’ve been here 20 minutes and haven’t gotten any food.” Sabina said, “Reev and Theo have had all of their courses already.”
“They haven’t had dessert.” Alfie quipped.
“AB!” Chip shouted from the kitchen, “People want drinks!”
Arabella’s head also perked up, craning to see who had called her name.
“Shut up! I’m dad-ing right now!” Alfie snapped.
“That’s not part of your job description!”
“Aw, nah, he’s pissing me off.” Alfie grumbled for the bit as the camera was pointed at him, putting Arabella back in your arms once she’d calmed down, “In a bit, girls.”
“Wait, does she respond to AB too?!” Liv laughed.
“Yeah.” You chuckled, letting the baby gnaw at your finger, “Try it.”
“AB.” Liv cooed, “It sounds so weird saying it in a baby voice.”
Weird or not, Arabella lifted her head, blinking at Liv as if expecting a follow up question or an offer of food.
“Does he call her AB at home?” Flo questioned, and you nodded.
“He thinks it’s cool because he’s got, like, a successor, or whatever. She quite likes it too, it makes her giggle.” You replied, stroking under your baby’s chin.
—
Once the food had arrived, you were already starving, but it was surprisingly good. You weren’t expecting such a good turn out in the taste.
Except for the burger.
That was god awful.
You and Flo mutually agreed that it was way too onion-y.
You spat it out into a napkin, handing it to Stan.
“Give that to Alfie and tell him that him and his boys need to sort their shit out. That’s got way too much onion in it.”
“What? Er!” Stan exclaimed at the barely chewed beef and bun mixture in his hands.
He rushed to the bar, putting the napkin in Alfie’s hands.
“From your girlfriend. She said you lot need to sort your shit out ‘coz it’s too onion-y.”
Alfie frowned, scrunching his face up at your words and putting the food in his mouth.
“Has he just put that back in his mouth?” Theo gaped in disgust, his eyes flickering from Alfie to you.
“They have had a whole kid together.” Reev pointed out.
“Oh yeah.”
“It’s fine, Reader, what you whinging for?!” Alfie scoffed.
“It’s awful! The pizza’s good though.” You shrugged, feeding Arabella little spoons of guacamole.
It had smudged down her chin, and Sabina was very happily on the clean-up job, a scrunched up napkin in her hands to get rid of the muck when it built up too much.
—
Somehow, Theo, Reev and Charlie had come to join you and the girls, seven of you squeezed around one circular table with a camera man hovering nearby considering you, as a group, were providing the most content.
Liv had sat on the floor, cross legged, with Flo opposite her and Arabella in between. She was waddling between them, occasionally tripping onto her hands and knees.
“Whoopsies!” Flo would coo instead of causing a fuss.
“Why’s my yute crawling around on the floor?” Alfie commented, peering over the bar and watching from afar. “Hope she’s not putting those hands in her mouth after touching that grubby floor.”
“Why are you actually being such a ‘dad’ right now?” Chip chuckled, sipping the drink he’d had made for him.
“‘Coz I am now, bro. You’ll get it one day, unc.”
“I should’ve got it before you!” He argued, “Fuckin’ youth of today, popping out babies like this.”
“Chill.” Alfie reeled his arm back, pretending that he was going to punch his friend, “We’re responsible.”
“Clearly. Your mrs is on the bevs while your little one is scrounging for scraps on the floor.”
“One, Reader’s had two drinks. Two, Bells is not scrounging for scraps, she’s not even on food like that—“
“No way she’s got your food palette!" Chip cackled.
“She doesn’t. It’s just weaning her into solid foods is hard. You’ve gotta force ‘em to like it. It’s bare jarring actually, ‘coz she’ll just cry until she gets a slice of pear. It’s like, ‘nooo girl you’ve gotta have some, fuckin’’ … I dunno, whatever type of shit she doesn’t like.”
Chip was leaning against the bar, laughing hard as if he didn’t have two orders of pizzas that were waiting to be made.
“Bella.” Theo cooed, stroking the top of her head.
The baby’s head nudged upwards, looking at Theo with curiosity.
“Hi! You want food?” He hummed, holding the bowl of mashed avocado, “Nom nom?”
She nodded, opening her mouth.
He put the little spoon in her mouth, taking some of the food before wobbling off towards Liv.
“No, she’s so cute.” Theo gasped at you, making you laugh at the sheer joy on his face.
“Oh, shit! Got Grandpa Theo feeding Arab!” Chip exclaimed.
“Bro, seriously. What is with that nickname?” Alfie scoffed.
“Her name’s Arabella. Arab for short. It’s quirky. Niche.”
Alfie turned to the camera, “Bro learnt the word niche last night and won’t stop dropping it. Buzzword final boss.”
“You call her AB, you really can’t talk.”
—
“Your boyfriend is very aggressive.” Charlie commented as he walked by your table, “I asked for a smash burger and he’s actually just punched the entire thing!”
“It’s smashed, no?” You tilted your head.
Charlie looked to the camera with a ‘seriously?’ look.
“Take that up with the chefs not me.” You shrugged.
“Alfie?” You called for him when he was at his busiest.
“Not right now, girl!” He responded, pouring two drinks at once.
“Alf!”
“Shut up, Reader! Fucking hell, I’m busy!” He snapped jokingly, throwing a dramatic hand into the air. “Honestly, I’m gonna spit in your food.”
“In my mouth first.” You snorted.
“Shut up, man!”
“AB!” Flo gasped out, adding to the banter.
“Mama shut!” Arabella repeated.
“Oh my God!” Sabina burst out laughing.
“No!” Alfie cursed, rushing over, “No, Bells, we don’t tell mummy to shut up. It’s not nice.”
“Dada shut.”
“Yes, good.” Liv nodded encouragingly, making you laugh.
“None of that.” Alfie frowned, nose scrunched up.
Arabella copied his expression, wobbling her head at the same time.
—
“Are you making the editors blur out her face?” Theo asked you after multiple rounds of peekaboo with Arabella.
“Yeah.” You nodded, “She’ll be in it but not her face. Well, they fucking better.”
Cal dropped by, “What’s this?”
“Saying how your editors better blur Bella’s face out.”
“Oh, nah nah they will.” Cal nodded adamantly, “How’s the food?”
“Did you make the burger?” You mocked him.
He panned to the camera with a bored look and then back to you, “Yeah, I did actually.”
“It was awful.”
“Okay, well you’re the only person who’s said that so you can fuck off.”
You laughed.
“Also, make another ‘burger’ or ‘stinker’ joke and I’ll rip your fellas ballsack off, cook it and serve it to you. No more kids.”
“Doing us a favour.” You shrugged, “Just means he doesn’t have to pull out anymore.”
“I can’t deal with you two. Seriously.” Cal pinched his nosebridge.
“Who’s pulling out?” Alfie asked loudly from the bar.
“Not you anymore, apparently. Cal’s gonna rip your nuts off.” You answered.
“He’s fucking not ‘coz I’ll dip ‘em in his fucking woke horse radish sauce and he can sued for having bollock sweat in his food. Gimp.”
“Why are you both ganging up on me?!— Nah, y’know what? Fuck the both of you.” Cal huffed, making his way back to the kitchen.
“Alf, are your balls actually sweating?” You frowned, just now catching onto what he’d said.
“Eurghhh!” Liv groaned.
“Balls, gooch, everything, girl!” He shouted, “Do you have any idea how stressful this is?!”
“Do you want relief?” You tilted your head.
The way his face lit up was amusing in itself, but his next words were even more so, “If you’re offering up bathroom slops, I’ll actually take you up on it.”
“No, that’s dirty.” You screwed your face up.
He looked gobsmacked, “You wanna talk about dirty!?”
“Shush! We’re in public!”
—
You, Sabina, Flo and Liv had ventured over to the kitchen to watch to food making process, as you were completely unconvinced that Cal and Chip were actually the ones cooking.
“Alright, Arab? Come ‘ere often?” Chip jokingly struck up a conversation with Arabella while she was on your hip.
She blinked at him, expression empty and confused, making you and the girls chuckle.
“Josh, you look really good in a chef’s hat.”
“Chill out, don’t even know you, girl.”
Sabina’s jaw dropped as her fiance jokingly dismissed her.
“I get this so much from the girls. Allllll the time.”
“Chip, you’re lucky you even pulled Sabina.” You chuckled.
Chip covered his face as he laughed and nodded, “It’s true, it’s true.”
“Ip!” Arabella practically barked, “Ip! Ip!”
“Is she trying to say Chip?!” Chip gasped, making Cal come over.
“There’s a ‘ch’ sound, honey.” Sabina explained gently, “Chip.”
“Ip!”
“Good enough.” Chip shrugged.
“Uncle Ip.” Alfie poked fun.
“Dada.” Arabella cooed.
“What? You want a bev? Horse tranquilliser?” He joked.
“Oi, Reader, will she eat cheese?” Cal asked, holding up a square of that burger-specific cheese.
“She’ll eat anything. Unlike daddy, isn’t that right, Bella?” You cooed, stroking her cheek.
“Why am I being slandered in my dad’s restaurant?” Alfie scoffed.
“She would eat it but she shouldn’t.” You finally answered Cal.
“Oh, alright.” He slapped the slice back down on the counter. “Nevermind then. Picky fucking baby. Just like your dad.”
“Bro!” Alfie laughed, sharp canines on show.
—
Desserts had come around, and it turned out it was just ice cream with a variety of different toppings. Rare ones too, like … jalapeños and wotsits and melted cheese.
“That’s disgusting.” Theo grimaced, looking at the wotsit dust on his vanilla ice cream. “Arabella, come eat this.”
Arabella, ever the innocent and curious one, crawled out of Reev’s lap and towards Theo.
“Theo, don’t.” Liv sighed disappointedly.
“It’s just ice cream, promise.” He held his hands up, “Also with the wotsits its actually nice.”
“You’re lying.” You scoffed, “If you like that, you’re honestly disgusting.”
“Shush. Bella, come eat this from Uncle Theo.” He whispered.
“Grandpa Theo.” You corrected.
He looked up at you, half-disturbed, half-upset.
Chip had dropped off a few more ice-cream servings at the table, a lot of them consisting of more whipped cream than ice-cream, and an array of awful additives.
You groaned in disgust at the hot honey drizzle on your ice cream.
“I’m stealing your child.” Chip said, picking Arabella up and whisking her away to the kitchen.
You just watched, hands thrown up before slapping them back down on your thighs in defeat.
Arabella’s loud cackles and screeching giggles echoed through the room.
“Why’ve you kidnapped a customer's child?!” Cal gaped as Chip came into the kitchen holding her.
“Got a new chef, lads.”
“You wanna make ice-cream?” Cal asked her gently, handing her the scoop. “Can she sit on the counter? Is that a health and safety thing?”
“Where the fuck is AB? He should fucking know.” Chip poked his head out the kitchen entry way, “AB!”
“Ip?” Arabella tilted her head.
“Not you, Arab. Your useless father.” Chip booped her nose before shouting again, “AB!”
“I’m fucking coming! Jesus!” Alfie huffed, leaving your table and coming back, “Why is Bells here?”
“Dada.” Arabella grinned, holding up the ice cream scoop and accidentally bonking it off of her head.
Cal turned away, his hand cupping his mouth as he tried not to laugh.
“Ouch.” Chip winced.
“You okay, Bells?” Alfie rubbed her head where she’d hit herself.
She looked up at him with wide, wet eyes.
“No crying, you’re okay. See, look at daddy and Uncle Chip.” Alfie took the scoop and hit Chip lightly on the head with it, “Bonk!”
Chip, always the one that needed to make her laugh, dramatically fell to the floor cupping his head.
Arabella cackled loudly at the act.
They got back to work in preparing the desserts (if they could even be called that). Arabella held the scoop at the end, thinking she was doing all the work, when in reality, Alfie was doing it all.
“Good girl!” Chip high-fived her. “What do you want on your ice-cream?”
“No, she can’t have anything else. Just ice-cream. Otherwise it’s too sweet.” Alfie said.
“Life must be so boring as a baby.” Cal sighed, “Just plain ice cream and guacamole? Nightmare.”
Theo appeared then.
“How’s the dess—“
“Which one of you thought it would be a good idea to give the girls cream pies?”
The boys burst out laughing at the way Theo had explained the randomised desserts, and Arabella cluelessly joined in.
“I did. How do you think I wound up with a little yute?” Alfie jabbed his finger down to point at his daughter, but ended up accidentally prodding her in the head harshly.
He dropped the scoop the moment she started wailing loudly, picking her up, “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, darlin’, I didn’t mean to.”
“Abusing your kids now?” Chip tutted.
You wandered over, “Why can I hear her crying from the table?”
“AB poked her on accident.” Cal sighed.
“… So?”
“No, like, really hard.”
“Alfie!” You exclaimed.
“It was an accident!” He defended himself.
“He’s getting a bollocking.” Chip laughed.
—
By the end of the shoot, you’d unfolded Arabella’s push chair and sat her in it, gently rocking it back and forth as she dozed off. She had a habit of falling asleep gripping something, so Flo had crouched down beside the push chair and offered the baby her finger.
Even now, fast asleep, she was still gripping it.
“Oh, my baby’s asleep. Siiiick. Gonna be a nightmare waking her up for the taxi ride back.” Alfie groaned, scratching the back of his head as the three ‘chefs’ walked over.
“Rate our food and service.” Cal demanded.
“2.” Liv said bluntly.
“Out of 10?” You asked, “4-5.”
“Both of you get the fuck out.”
Alfie had crouched beside Flo, tickling Arabella’s chin lightly.
“Bells.” He whispered softly.
“Alfie, do not wake her up.” You hissed.
“She’s gonna wake up when we get in the Uber.”
“That’s not for, at least, another one or two hours. Just let her sleep, please. She wouldn’t stop whining earlier.”
“Okay.” He muttered, kissing his daughters head and then standing to his full height.
