niall + puppy
♡o death: nothing satisfies me but your soul♡ nialler
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narry ficathon


Because Narry pool dates and also this (1 2 3 4)

RULES

  • All prompts must contain Harry/Niall. Harry/Niall/Other, Genderswap and AU prompts are totally acceptable.

  • Anon prompts/fills accepted

  • Please warn for common triggers (if you're not sure, just ask!)

  • One prompt per comment but please feel free to submit multiple prompts!

  • Multiple fills encouraged!

  • You can post on AO3, tumblr or your personal LJ but please link it back here.

  • Be nice. Have fun.

  • Feel free to promote this wherever you want, but do not send the link to anyone in 1D or associated with 1D.


Fills:
Living It Up While I'm Going Down (AO3) - Harry and niall are trapped in an elevator so they fuck to pass the time
lives by the sea - harry is an ageless yet playful and soft-hearted dragon whose life revolves around niall. run with it.
I'm leaving out the whistles and bells - Harry is a flop
win your heart with a woop-a-woo - narry pool dates

I'm leaving out the whistles and bells (2/5?)

(Anonymous)
Niall’s had people, sure, people he’s loved; he’s not new to this. He’s never really felt a pressing need to do a grand romantic gesture, though. For a long time, he’d thought that Harry was his polar opposite, handing out grand romantic gestures to anyone who even smiled in his direction, but as Harry’s smile slips and he shows a little sliver of nervousness, Niall decides he was dead wrong. There’s a difference between Harry’s grand romantic gestures and Harry’s Grand Romantic Gestures, and the difference is that Harry brought Niall to a zoo and is holding a flower in his hand.

Where did he even get a flower? No, don’t answer that.

Niall wonders what it would be like to do a Grand Romantic Gesture for someone as Harry walks away to the lion pit, still holding the flower. He assumes it would be fulfilling, assumes it would give him a warm feeling in his chest to see Harry’s face light up like Christmas morning at something done just for him. He assumes Harry would thank him with a kiss, assumes it would maybe go a little beyond a kiss, and he assumes that the growing tent in his shorts is not just from thinking about grand romantic gestures.

It’s about this time that he decides to try a grand romantic gesture of his own, albeit a little sneakier than Harry’s. A sly romantic gesture, if you will. He’s going to out-Harry Harry, and Harry won’t even know what to do about it, and he will be so proud of Niall even as he’s going down on him.

Or something, he thinks, as Harry waves him over to the lion pit, as one lion rears up and mounts another and dozens of mothers cover their childrens’ eyes. Or something.

When they get to sound check that night, Harry sidles up to him and breathes down the back of his neck. “Yes?” he asks, because otherwise Harry will never tell him.

“We should sit on the windowsill and throw poppers at pigeons tonight,” Harry says. That’s right, they’re rooming together.

“That sounds like great fun, mate,” he says, and the gears in his head start clicking and turning.

He goes on a beer and condom run (with Louis’s passport) down to the hotel store when they first get back, and as he’s leaving he passes a burly security guard who nods at him and says “He’s already in there.”

Niall is totally all set to walk into the room, smooth as silk, put the condom on Harry’s pillow and flash him a shit-eating grin, but his plan is shot to shit when he opens the door and it’s not Harry sitting and waiting for him but Liam. He’s sat on Niall’s bed, staring out the window or something.

“Hey, buddy,” Niall says, and Liam turns and, bollocks, he’s crying. “Oh.”

“We’re off again,” Liam says, handing Niall his cell phone.

I’m sorry but I really can’t do this anymore. We tried again too fast. I’ll always love you but-- Niall doesn’t scroll down to see the rest; frankly, he doesn’t care. “I’m sorry, Liam,” he says, and he reaches out and squeezes Liam’s shoulder and then pulls him into a hug. This was definitely not in the plan.

I'm leaving out the whistles and bells (2.5/5?)

(Anonymous)

“Sorry, got held up at the vending machine,” Harry says as he bursts through the door, and he pauses too as he takes in the sight. “Oh no.”

“Danielle dumped him,” Niall says, and Liam really starts to cry then, and Niall feels bad when he clarifies, “again.”

“I’m sorry,” Liam says, “but Zayn and Louis had... and I knew you two were probably doing something fun...”

“Eh,” Harry says, and locks eyes with Niall. “We were just going to make some trouble.”

Niall thinks of the condom burning a hole in his pocket and nods. “Just some trouble.”

“Do you want to,” asks Harry, and Liam gets up almost too eagerly and trips over Niall.

“Thank you, yes, I’m sorry, I’m still,” he says, and Niall hands him a tissue or five to blow his nose. “I’ll just,” he finishes, and ducks into the bathroom.

“Poor Liam,” Niall says, because he can see that Harry is trying to decide whether to be sad for their friend or to be sad that they no longer have an excuse to scarper off alone.

“Yeah,” Harry says, and his face settles into an odd little half-frown.

“Hey,” Niall says, handing Harry a beer. “Why don’t we lock him in here and go up to the roof?”

Harry seems to like that idea. It takes them a few minutes of strategic beer placement and fiddling with the doorknob, but by the time Liam starts banging on the door and asking where everyone went, they’re long gone, giggling all the way. There’s no roof access but there is a pavillion on the top floor, so they sneak over the security barriers and set up camp there. They manage to keep a conversation running until the sun comes up over Lake Michigan, and that’s breathtaking enough that they stay silent for half an hour; then Harry falls asleep on Niall’s shoulder and Niall’s legs go numb from the way they’re crossed, and they go back downstairs.

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