Have you ever considered writing a Niall mpreg because I think you could make it really original unlike some of the fics out there right now?
Honestly, I haven’t. There’s Harry mpreg in the TBiaM series, though.
I feel like Niall would be very difficult when pregnant, though. Like- Very stubborn about doing everything himself. Like-
Harry has noticed it more and more, recently. Ever since Niall entered the second trimester, his stubbornness has gone up through the roof. And, given how bull-headed he could be already, that’s saying something. But this takes the cake.
Harry panics and runs forward, wrapping his arms around Niall’s legs and yelling, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Installing this new bloody ceiling fan.” Niall grunts out, shooting a glare down at Harry. “You’ve been on me about it for a year, so- Shut up and hold the ladder steady. And let go of my legs. You know I hate that.”
“Why would you do this by yourself?” Harry groans, dropping his forehead against Niall’s hip. “Standing on a ladder without someone holding it is stupid, no matter what state you’re in.”
“I’ve been fine.” Niall huffs. “If you’d bothered to pay attention before you started yelling at me, you’d have noticed that I’m just finishing up. Another minute and I’ll be down from here. Stupid alpha instincts always short out your brain.”
“I am this close to tying you to the bed until you give birth.” Harry mutters.
“You tying me to the bed is the reason I’m giving birth, if I have my dates right.” Niall snorts, tightening one final screw and then tapping Harry on the shoulder to let him know that he’s coming down.
“I’m serious, Niall.” Harry sighs as his mate climbs down off of the ladder. “You can’t keep doing things like this. My blood pressure is getting higher by the day. I want our baby to have both fathers, and that means that you need to stop putting yourself in harm’s way, because either you’re going to get hurt, or you’re going to give me a heart attack.”
“I was hot, Harry. Okay?” Niall asks harshly. “Look at me. I’m sweating like i’m in heat. Only, instead of your knot, all I want is a fucking breeze. The old fan was wobbling like it was going to fall off, and I can’t open the windows, because the humidity just makes it worse. And I just- I’m fucking hot, and our son won’t stop moving around unless I’m being active, and this was the only thing I could do that could fix both of those problems.”
“Son?” Harry asks, dumbstruck with the information. “How- How do you know? We’ve not found out the gender.”
“I looked it up online, and all the sites say that if your average body temperature is above a certain threshold, then it’s probably a boy.” Niall says quietly. “And I’ve been running hot like this for weeks now.”
“We’re having a boy.” Harry breathes out, sliding his hands down Niall’s sweat-slick torso before kneeling in front of his mate’s stomach. He nuzzles into the still soft skin of Niall’s stomach, murmuring out, “Hey, bubba. This is your daddy. I need you to cool down a bit for papa, alright? Give him a break for a while.”
“Dipshit.” Niall says with a fond sigh, lacing his fingers into Harry’s hair. “If you really want to help, you’ll stop yelling at me for everything. And you’ll rub my feet. They hurt like a bitch.”
“Are you wearing my boots?” Harry chuckles, looking down Niall’s bare legs to his feet.
“They’re the only things that fit now, because my feet are swollen up to the size of canoes.” Niall huffs. “And the slats on the ladder were hurting my feet.”
“One more reason you shouldn’t have been up there, then.” Harry tells him.
“You can lecture me once you’ve started rubbing my feet.” Niall huffs. “Fair warning, though- I’m still going to do whatever I damn well please.”
“Just- Just no more ladders, alright?” Harry requests. “A fall could hurt both of you, and that would kill me.”
Really love your narry drabbles, especially family!narry! Here's a prompt for family!narry: Liam or Louis is injured because of the other, which leads to worried dads and a twin brother that's feeling extremely guilty. If you decide to write this, thank you!!
“Ahhh! Daddy! Daddy!” yelled Louis, his voice growing closer as he ran through the backyard. “Da! Help! Daddy!”
Harry stood from the dining table and walked through the kitchen, long strides bringing him to the back door quickly. He pushed open the door just in time to find a panicked Louis running toward him.
“Lou? What’s wrong?” asked Harry.
“I dropped him!” exclaimed Louis, eyes wide and frantic.
“What?” asked Harry, not sure what Louis meant.
“I dropped him, Daddy!” repeated Louis.
“You dropped who?”
“Liam!” shouted Louis, a touch of hysteria in his tone.
“You dropped Liam?” said Harry, a hint of panic creeping into his own voice now. “Louis, where is he?”
Without a word, Louis turned and ran away from the house. Harry followed quickly. They arrived at the little apple orchard, a cluster of seven apple trees where the kids loved to play, and Harry saw Liam laying on the ground at the foot of the Honeycrisp tree.
“Liam!” said Harry, rushing toward the boy. “Liam,” he said again softly when he reached his son, “are you alright?”
“No!” cried Liam, eyes wet with tears and face startlingly white. “My arm hurts, Daddy!” Harry looked at Liam’s arm. It didn’t look off but he certainly wasn’t an expert.
“Come on, baby. Let’s get you up to the house,” said Harry, bending down to scoop the boy up in his arms. “Come on, Lou.”
Harry walked back to the house, Liam in his arms, face pressed to his father’s chest as he cried into Harry’s shirt. Louis followed behind nervously, uncharacteristically quiet.
When they got to the house, Louis ran forward and opened the door for Harry. As they entered the family room, Niall looked up from where he sat on the floor at the coffee table, Elora next to him pouring a cup of imaginary tea for their tea party.
“Was wondering where you lot”—Niall noticed Liam in Harry’s arms and a jumpy Louis flitting around his legs—“What happened?”
“Louis dropped Liam,” said Harry, moving to the sofa to lay Liam down.
“What?” asked Niall.
“I dropped him!” said Louis, sounding like he was on the verge of tears. “We were climbing trees and I was supposed to help Liam get to the top and I dropped him!”
“His arm hurts,” added Harry.
“Reckon we should take him to hospital?” asked Niall.
“Liam has a boo-boo,” Elora told Louis a bit sadly.
Niall snorted out a laugh and Louis looked at his sister. “I know, El,” he said, sounding a little frustrated. He turned to where his brother sat on the hospital bed and frowned. “I’m sorry, Liam!”
“I’m so sorry, Li,” said Louis for the hundredth time, sitting next to Liam where he lay on the sofa, a splint on his broken arm.
“I know, Lou,” said Liam kindly. “You didn’t drop me on purpose.”
“I know, but I broke your arm!”
“Reckon he’ll ever stop apologising for this?” Niall asked Harry quietly, a small smile on his lips.
Harry kissed Niall tenderly. “Eventually.”
you can read the rest of my family!narry drabbles here!
“You did good in there. Very good.” Niall says, looking down
at his hands because he doesn’t know where else to look. It’s been weeks now,
and he still can’t make eye contact with Harry for more than a second or two at
“I love you.” Harry says adamantly.
It’s like a punch straight to Niall’s heart. He should be
used to it by now, since Harry has decided he’s going to say it every time
they’re alone with each other, despite the fact that Niall never shows any
signs of paying attention to the words, but it still hurts. Still makes cracks
race over Niall’s skin and threaten to crumble the façade he has to craft so
carefully before every interaction.
“Got more than I thought you would.” Niall admits with a
gulp. “Especially for a lunch. What’s that put us at now? It’s over three
million, right? People are always more generous around Christmas time though,
so that’s certainly helping. Plus, it’s when they realize how much they can get
back in taxes after charitable contributions, because it’s the end of the
“I love you.” Harry repeats, voice just as fierce and
unwavering in its conviction.
“Any plans for Christmas?” Niall asks, looking at his mobile
to see that Ashton has texted that he’s running a few minutes behind, but will
be there soon.
“Go on a trip with me.” Harry says, just as firm. “Go away
with me for Christmas. We’ll go to an island, somewhere warm where we can be
naked all day and we can fuck under a palm tree that we’ll pretend is
“Jaysus.” Niall mutters, shaking his head. “I’m spending it
with Ash, Luke, Liam and Louis. Maybe Bress will swing by, but I’m not sure on
that. He’s got a session on the twenty-fourth, so it’ll depend on the weather
if he gets to fly back to Ireland in time or not.”
“Invite me.” Harry urges, scooting closer to Niall. “Invite
me over for it.”
“Harry-” Niall sighs.
“I haven’t gotten to see Conan in weeks, Niall.” Harry
whispers. “Please. I’ll even bring Gemma, so it won’t be about the two of us. I
“Think you can go the whole time without saying it?” Niall
asks. “Because I’d throw you out on your arse, and that’s not in the Christmas
“I can and I will.” Harry agrees. “If that’s what you want.”
“And you can be nice to Ashton?” Niall asks.
“Well, you’re not sleeping together anymore, so- Yes.” Harry
says with a nod that Niall doesn’t see, but feels from where their shoulders
are pressed together.
“What about you and Liam?” Niall questions. “I don’t know
what it is about him that you don’t like, but-”
“I was just worried he was going to tell you about what I
used to do for a living.” Harry says quietly. “He recognized me when we met,
and I panicked. After that, it was just kind of like- Like he had blackmail
material on me, and I didn’t like him very much. Is he the one who told you to
look me up?”
“Yes.” Niall admits with a nod. “But all he told me about
was the show. I don’t think he knew about the porn.”
“He knew.” Harry mutters. “Everyone who watched telly in
Britain knew. It was a pretty big- I don’t know- Scandal, I guess? It was all
over the place at first.”
“I didn’t know.” Niall shrugs.
“You only watch sports.” Harry points out. “You probably
didn’t even know ‘Best Song Ever’ existed.”
“No, but, to be fair-” Niall hums. “I was a bit older than
the target audience. And I have better taste.”
“Fuck off.” Harry scoffs. “I happened to have done a number
you would have loved.”
“Oh?” Niall chuckles.
“There was one episode where the girls saw me - Marcel, but
whatever - without my glasses, and with my hair not styled up, and with my
shirt off.” Harry explains. “These bullies had dumped jelly all over me, and I
had to take off my shirt because it was stained and another kid gives me an
extra shirt. And the girls were like, ‘holy shite, he’s hot,’ so they set about
making me look like a bad boy in a leather jacket and tight jeans and with my
hair styled differently and contacts. A whole makeover montage, you know? And
then they make me sing ‘Life in the Fast Lane’ to really seal the deal. But,
then, the girl that I’ve been pining after says that she thinks I’m not happy
like that, because that’s not who I am, and she’s right. The whole episode is
about self-acceptance, so I go back to normal at the end.”
“Cute.” Niall snorts.
“I know it’s cheesy, but it was fun.” Harry giggles. “And I
did a pretty good job on the song, if I do say so myself.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” Niall says, glancing over at
“I wanted to do ‘Jailhouse Rock’, but they wouldn’t change
it.” Harry pouts.
“Good.” Niall grins. “The Eagles are better anyways.”
“Arse.” Harry huffs.
Before Niall can respond, he’s startled out of the trance
he’s been trying to avoid by refusing to look into Harry’s eyes by a loud honk.
He glares at the source to find Ashton hanging out of his
car window, saying, “Hurry up. We’re going to be late, and you know how he
“Have I mentioned that I hate him?” Harry sighs.
“Once or twice.” Niall mumbles, pushing himself up. “See you
on Christmas, Harry.”
“I love you,” is Harry’s response, soft as silk, and Niall
just prays that he doesn’t notice the way the blond’s heart tries to beat
through his chest at the words.
He climbs into Ashton’s car, watching Harry look after them
in the mirror as they drive away. Ashton is too busy trying to find a radio station
to notice when Niall takes out his mobile, plugs in his headphones, and looks
up Harry’s rendition of ‘Life in the Fast Lane’ on YouTube.
No offence, but you're going to make people wait weeks and weeks for something you've finished? *i'm not saying you've finished it but its the point* But you're not obliged to anything you don't want, also I don't understand what you mean by "spoiling in the holidays"?
I’m going to continue publishing at the rate that I’ve chosen to, yes. Because I’ve gotten tired of the way that people act once I’ve finished a fic. I don’t know if you’re new to my blog or not, but if you are, you haven’t seen how things go once I finish publishing a fic. Literally less than 12 hours after I finished publishing Guiding Light, I was getting asks about when my next fic would be out. Those start nice and cute, and then get impatient and demanding in a matter of weeks. Never mind the fact that I put out more content than any other Narry writer, and that good writing takes time. I get forced into publishing before I’m ready just to satisfy people and get them to stop demanding something that I do for free, in my spare time.
And you’ll all have to wait a bit to see what I mean about ‘spoiling people in the holidays’, because I have something in the works, but I’m not ready to discuss it yet. Patience is a virtue, Nonald, and one my readers sorely lack.