honestly i wish people would stop saying niall has a dad bod. first of all, he's not a dad, and second of all he is not fat or pudgy at all. He is literally just a 23 year old guy who doesnt go work out to the point that he has tight abs and that shouldnt mean you have dad bod. hes just a normal guy :/
Niall bent down and placed his hands on his knees, attempting to catch his breath while still watching his twelve year old son dribbled the soccer ball towards the makeshift goal in their backyard. They’d already spent three hours out here, going over tactics and rules, Niall loving every minute of teaching his son the dynamics of one of his favourite sports.
Dylan had mentioned that he’d wanted to try out for the school team but was nervous about making an utter fool of himself, he wasn’t always the most coordinated of teenagers and the last thing he wanted to be was the laughing stock of his class. Niall had reassured him that they’d practice every day for as long as Dylan wanted until he felt confident and that was exactly what they had done.
Niall watched with pride as Dylan scored the goal, the boys eyes lighting up as he turned back to look at his Dad, the biggest smile on his face. “Dad!” He said excitedly, bounding over to where Niall was standing. “Did you see that?!” “I sure did, you’re going to be the best on the team this year.” “Do you really think so?” Niall smiled ruffling his son’s brown hair playfully. “Absolutely, you’ll be better than both myself and your uncle Louis soon enough.”
Dylan’s eyes widened even more, a hopeful look in his bright blue eyes. “Can I call him and see if he wants to come play with us? I can beat both of you then!” Niall nodded, chuckling as he watched his son run back into the house, your voice echoing out a minute later telling him to take off his muddy shoes. Niall shook his head and looked towards where the dirty soccer ball was resting against the fence, happy that his son had found something that he loved; something that they could enjoy together.
Disclaimer: I swear this is about Niall! He’s lusting after a girl who’s supposed to be set up with his buddy, Bressie. Lots of fluffy/awkward Niall then NSFW towards the end.
Niall looked down at the buzzing next to him on the couch at his home in London. He sighed as he picked up the phone, seeing none other than Laura Whitmore’s name pop up on the screen.
You coming tonight? She’d asked, referring to another wild get-together of the LIC.
Was thinking about it. He responded vaguely.
Uggggh. Come! You have to meet my new friend! Niall rolled his eyes at that message. Laura had been on a mission lately to get him to settle down with this girl or that. He’d been single too long, she claimed. He needed to meet someone before his heart shriveled up.
Laura went on to explain that they’d met at a music festival and became fast friends. Mari was her name. Niall couldn’t think of anything more annoying than a girl whose name should end in a Y but she decided to be trendy and spell it with an I. But Niall could use a few pints, and the craic was always good with Laura. To hell with it, he was going.
It didn’t take nearly as much coaxing to get Deo to go out as it had getting Niall off the couch. But Niall got ready and pulled on his paddy cap before walking out the door to the pub. He smiled as he hugged and greeted his friends when he arrived; a lot of people had shown up. Laura launched herself into his arms like she usually did and Niall laughed as he hugged her back tightly.
“Come meet Mari,” she grinned and led him over to a booth.
That’s when he saw the beautiful brunette sitting across from Eoghan. Chocolate brown hair fell in waves around her shoulders as her amber eyes lit up. She was talking animatedly about something, using her hands that showed her toned arms and olive skin. This girl couldn’t have been more perfect if Niall had cooked her up in a lab.
“Hey, Mari! This is Niall!” Laura said as she slid into the booth next to her and Niall slid in next to Eoghan.
“Which Niall?” Mari asked in a thick English accent as she looked up at him. “You’ve told me about multiple Nialls.”
“The Irish one from Mullingar,” Niall responded sarcastically and silently congratulated himself when he heard the timber of her laughter.
“Nice to meet you,” she smiled and offered her hand for a shake.
“Likewise,” Niall nodded with a grin and shook her hand. Her small hand felt so smooth in his. He was already eager to touch the rest of her. “What are we talking about over here?”
i was talking to a friend about ''my son louis''. apparently my prof heard this and genuinely believed (HA!) that im a freaking loving mother to a toddler. lol then my friend was like.. ''AU in which larry are bickering about niall's obsession over golf and people assumed niall is their child and were impressed of how theyre raising the next golf protege'' and i need it badly
“Why isn’t he answering my text? He knows he should always answer my texts.”
Harry glanced over at Louis before looking back at his phone. “He only sets his phone down for two reasons, a shower or golf, you know that. At this time of day, he’s probably out golfing. Besides, we’ll see him in a couple of hours when he comes home for dinner anyway.”
Louis rolled his eyes and pockets his phone. “But this is important.”
Harry chuckled and continued scrolling his Facebook feed. Louis always assumed Niall should be at their every beck and call, and he usually was, but when he wasn’t Louis usually ended in a strop.
The train jostled them around a bit and Louis fell into Harry, Harry’s hand not gripping the pole landed on Louis’ hip to steady him. “Careful, love. And kids will be kids,” he added teasingly. “He’ll answer when he’s ready.”
“Yeah, but these days he’s always at the golf course! I feel like we never see him anymore.”
Harry nodded before going back to his Facebook feed. “He’s really excited about the British Open, and you have to admit he’s really improving. He took on that charity challenge the other day and blew everyone away.”
“Yes, but he’s neglecting us, Haz. For golf.”
“Your son must be wonderful at golf for him to be invited to charity events,” the kind elderly woman sitting in front of them said. “My son loves golf but cannot get his children excited for it.”
Harry and Louis looked at each other, giggles barely held at bay. Rather than trying to explain their complicated relationship with their best friend, they just agreed.