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)


  • 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.

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

Harry/Niall - Harry is a flop

Niall and Harry make it a thing to hang out together whenever the other boys' girlfriends are around because single pringles and that (Liam can be with Dani or a new girl is in the picture, idrc). When Harry develops a crush on Niall, he secretly starts thinking of their hangouts as dates. AND being the loser that he is, decides to start planning more romantic "dates" in hopes that Niall will get the hint. Meanwhile, Niall is totally way more perceptive than Harry gives him credit for and catches on right away but lets Harry continue with his lame seduction plans because he thinks it's hilarious and kinda cute. When Harry finally cracks and decides to tell Niall his feelings Niall is like "I know, I just liked laughing at you. we can go on a real date now if you want."

Re: Harry/Niall - Harry is a flop

WOW. What a great prompt. This person is an A+ babe.

Re: Harry/Niall - Harry is a flop

very subtle

Re: Harry/Niall - Harry is a flop

idk what you're talking about...

Re: Harry/Niall - Harry is a flop

stay tuned

I'm leaving out the whistles and bells (1/5?)

There’s something strange going on with Harry and Niall can’t put his finger on it. It’s almost as if he’s nervous, but Niall can’t figure out what in the world he would be nervous for. He would ask Louis or Liam, but lately it seems like he’s spending all his days off with Harry, and he can’t ask Harry what’s wrong with Harry, now, can he?

Of course not.

Tour is a long and volatile beast. They share hotel rooms, but on a rotation schedule, because if they didn’t switch it up regularly all five of them would go insane. Days off and early mornings are a precious commodity. Niall makes a habit of waking up at the crack of dawn, just to stretch and breathe, and usually goes back to sleep for a few hours after he’s sat and thought for a while, and he’s glad no one else has discovered his secret yet. Liam’s an early riser, too, but of a different sort; his mornings are always lunges and sit ups and extremely long shits. Niall hates sharing with him.

Most mornings lately though it seems that when Liam’s not shitting or exercising he’s speaking quietly into his cell phone, and Niall doesn’t have to listen to know who Liam’s talking to. Danielle’s nice. Whatever.

He shares with Louis for the LA shows, and while Louis usually is a riot and a laugh, Eleanor’s face on Skype is apparently much more important than shooting the shit or spitting out the hotel window with Niall, so he heads down to the bar to get reminded that here, he’s underage, and runs into Harry, apparently after the same thing. Harry looks like someone kicked a puppy in front of him.

“How’s Liam?” asks Niall, checking his watch. They go to stage in 19 hours.

“On the toilet talking to Dani,” Harry says. Niall nods. He should have known. “I went to check on Zayn but he and Perrie get into some kinky shit on camera, I didn’t even know people could bend that way.”

Niall doesn’t want to know. “Well then. Two stag mates. What shall we do?”

Harry smiles as the elevator door slides open. “Let’s get into some trouble!”

Niall can’t say no to that.

They rinse and repeat this in every city across America but while Niall could honestly say that he’s having the time of his life, Harry doesn’t seem to be having any fun, and that’s what Niall can’t put his finger on. This should be a laugh. It was a laugh last tour, horsing around and sneaking around the bodyguards, but this time it seems like everyone’s tenser, like Louis can’t stand being away from Eleanor and Zayn can’t stand being away from Perrie and Liam’s about to cry if he hasn’t spoken to Dani in over twelve hours. Even Harry looks like he’ll fall apart if Niall pokes him too hard. He’s always off standing in a corner texting someone, and it’s not someone he’s in love with; there’s no sunshine coming out his ears like there was with Caroline. It’s probably Nick. What a git.

So they fall into a pattern, as shaky as it is. The boys with girls spend their precious days off and early mornings drooling into cameras, and Harry and Niall sneak off to wherever. Most of these things have been Harry’s suggestion- they snuck up to the hotel roof, that first night, and from then on Harry comes to Niall and says, “Let’s go find ice cream,” or “Let’s go to that arcade we passed on the drive here.” On the first Deadly Day of the tour, in Phoenix, they manage to sneak out past the body guards and then sneak right back inside the hotel to watch cartoons on the oversized telly in their room.

He asks Louis about it when they next share a room, but Louis, for once, has no idea what’s going on in Harry’s head. “I don’t know,” he says distractedly, as Eleanor pulls her shirt off on the skype camera. “Ask Liam? Or, ooh, ask Nick, he knows things. Oh, babe, is that a new bra?”

“Why would I want to ask Nick?” Niall growls, and stomps out of the room, almost running over Harry who is waiting for him on the landing with a bag of crisps and two cinema tickets.

Niall figures it out in Chicago when Harry takes him to the zoo. “I knew you liked zoos,” Harry says, almost apologetically, and Niall responds with an “Aw, thanks, I’ve been meaning to get out and see a zoo on tour, haven’t been in ages,” and then looks at Harry’s face and realizes that he’s been missing something.

Re: I'm leaving out the whistles and bells (1/5?)

I LOVE YOUUU /chin hands niall being oblivious! the roof! cinema tickets! the zoo! i love the straight-forwardness and deadpan humor with which you write. (:

Re: I'm leaving out the whistles and bells (1/5?)

thank you *u*

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

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?)


“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.

I'm leaving out the whistles and bells (3/??)

It’s pushing 38 celsius in Memphis and Harry has fallen asleep facedown in front of the air conditioning. Niall had been rubbing his back, so he knows he’s partly to blame. As Harry starts to snore, Niall pushes up off the ground and sneaks back to the room he’s sharing with Zayn. He needs professional advice for how to proceed.

Zayn’s not in the room and the bathroom door is shut, so Niall does the obvious thing and opens it. “Need some advice,” he says, and he’s not prepared for Perrie Edwards kneeling in front of the toilet sucking Zayn’s dick.

“Oh,” he says. “I can wait?”

“No, it’s alright,” Perrie says, coming up for air. “Hello, Niall.”

“It’s not alright,” Zayn complains. Perrie swats him. Niall has never seen Perrie nude before; she’s quite nice.

“I didn’t realize you were in the States,” Niall says, trying to carry a conversation and not stare at her tits or Zayn’s cock.

“It’s our anniversary,” she says. “What’s going on?”

Niall can’t remember. He’s overwhelmed. Oh, right; Harry. “Harry.”

Zayn turns to look into the mirror, examining his face. “What about him?”

“I’m trying to out-Harry Harry and I need help,” he says. “Louis is busy and Liam is depressed and I am not stooping so low as to ask Nick Grimshaw for help.”

Perrie laughs. She’s very beautiful. “I’m going to get dressed,” she tells Zayn. “Help him, or I’ll be forced to.”

Zayn pulls his pants back on and looks at Niall. “What do you mean by out-Harry Harry?”

Niall sits down in the bathtub. “He’s been doing little romantic things all tour, and I want to one-up him. Beat him at his own game. You know.”

“And then?” Zayn asks; not judgemental, but curious.

“And then,” Niall says, pausing; he hadn’t thought that far ahead. “And then do it again, I guess.”

“You in love with him?”

He considers. “Not sure I ever wasn’t, eh?”

Zayn nods. “We’ve all been there.”

“With Harry, or?”

“With everyone,” Zayn says. “With anyone. You’ve not really done this before, have you?”

“I’ve had people,” says Niall, looking down at his sock feet, growing damp from the tub. “I just-”

“Haven’t been in love with any of them, yeah?”

Zayn is right.

“So what do I do?”

Zayn shrugs, raises an eyebrow and waits.

“Nevermind. I know what to do,” Niall says. “Help me out of the tub.”

Perrie pokes her head back in the bathroom. “You figure it out then?” She’s just as fit with clothes on. Zayn’s a lucky bastard. “Come on, we’ve got dinner reservations, yeah?”

When they leave, Niall considers a wank, but he doesn’t want to fall asleep and wake up to them fucking in the bed next to him, so he heads over to Harry’s; he answers on the third or fourth knock, carpet lines pressed into his cheek from where he fell asleep on the floor.

“You left?” he asks, confused; he has obviously only just woken up.

“Had to talk to Zayn,” Niall explains. “Perrie’s here and they’re going out but they’ll probably want the room tonight...” He trails off hopefully, and Harry steps aside to let him in.

“Rude of them,” Harry says, tossing over a candy bar and hopping onto the only bed. “Share with me, we can watch porn and I’ll order you room service.”

“You’ll order me room service?” Niall asks incredulously. “You’re an excellent host, mister Styles. Shouldn’t waste that, should I.”

“Yes I am and no you shouldn’t.” Harry hands Niall the room service menu and turns on the flatscreen. “Seriously, though, anything you want. My treat.”

Niall regards him fondly. Harry’s cute when he’s trying to be casual and failing miserably. “I’ll have a steak, then, and a big-titted barebacked threesome if you can find one.”

Harry grins cheekily. “Anything for you.”

Harry finds something good on the telly- not quite a big-titted barebacked threesome, but close- and Niall’s steak is overdone but still good, and he nestles down into Harry’s bed and squeezes up against him. The porn gets him half-hard, and he can feel Harry press into him a little, as if trying to feel it but trying not to let Niall know. Niall smiles to himself and falls asleep with his chin cupped around Harry’s shoulder.

I'm leaving out the whistles and bells (4/6? idek anymore)

By the time they get to Boston Niall has figured out his plan of attack. They’re staying in the Four Seasons in the middle of the city, overlooking a big park, and Niall spends a few minutes on Liam’s laptop in their room after the show deciding where to go and how to get there. He wonders if it would be wise to take the train to the club, but decides against it as someone figures out where they’re staying from a single instagram picture and starts tweeting at Louis. He throws on a hooded jumper and some sunglasses and heads toward the door. Liam sighs as he leaves; “I’ll miss you,” he calls after Niall, and Niall blows him a kiss on the way out.

Harry looks confused as he opens his door. “I’m taking you out,” Niall says, and he can’t help but smirk at how Harry blushes.

“Where to?” asks Harry, getting a jumper of his own and a hat.

“Surprise,” Niall says, and Louis in the background shouts a laugh; Niall grabs Harry by the wrist and takes off running down the corridor to the emergency exit stairs. They convince a doorman to let them sneak out the back by promising a picture for his daughter, and hail a cab on the corner, none of the small throng of girls on the corner any the wiser.

Niall has a moment of self doubt in the cab as he wonders if Harry will like the band playing (some indie group he’s never heard of, to be honest), but gets over it quickly enough as they pull up to the club and Harry smiles audibly. “Wicked,” he says, “I love this band.” Niall is proud of himself.

An hour later, he’s a bit less proud, as it turns out he can’t really get into this kind of ambient noise and he’s feeling a bit constricted in a dark room packed with people. Harry’s still grinning on the dance floor though, so he squeezes his shoulder and heads off towards the bar. He remembers belatedly that he’s still not old enough here for alcohol, and grabs a cup of water instead, turning around to survey the place. It’s nice to be in a high-energy concert where no one recognizes them. It’s nice to just sit and think and listen to music and watch Harry throw his hands in the air and dance along to music. He bobs his head along to the music and watches people pass by until they start to play a riff that he recognizes. Has this band had a radio hit? Yeah, he definitely knows this song. He crushes his water cup and tosses it and heads back into the throng, pushing through people until he gets to Harry, whose eyes are closed; he claps him on the back and then turns it into a weird sidehug. “I know this song!” he shouts, and Harry’s eyes fly open.

“You know this song?”

“I know this song! I know this song!”

Harry’s smile explodes across his face and he shouts and grabs at everyone around them. “You hear that? My friend knows this song! He knows this song!”

The people around them don’t seem to care, but Harry kisses Niall on the cheek anyway, and then it’s Niall’s turn to blush. The band plays on.

He doesn’t know any of the rest of the songs, and he’s still not into the music, but the rhythm is enough to move to, even if Niall’s idea of dancing is wiggling around and shaking his hands. He’s having fun. And when he looks over at Harry, he can see he’s not alone.

He doesn’t bother to go back to his own room that night, just curls up behind Harry for the third time this tour and tucks himself in and hopes that in the morning he can will himself enough courage to pull out all the stops.

I'm leaving out the whistles and bells (5/6)

Harry’s aloof on the tour bus. This is alright with Niall, who’s feeling rather carsick from the bumps in the road along the interstate on the way to New York. The problem isn’t really the potholes, it’s the fact that he’s sitting on the edge of a seat cushion and Harry’s lounging across from him, texting, holding his phone above his face, and the way his head is tilted is giving Niall a very slight but very inconvenient boner. Zayn is shooting him knowing smirks and Niall really wants to clock him in the face. Louis has, several times, moved to put his head down in Niall’s lap, and Niall has had to gently shove him away, something he doesn’t feel too badly about when Louis starts complaining.

As they change lanes and start picking up speed around the traffic, Liam and Louis stand up to do some bus-surfing, and finally Zayn takes pity on Niall and plops down next to him. “Day off tonight.”

“A-yep,” Niall says.

“What are you two losers up to then?” Zayn’s pointed at Niall but his eyes are on Harry, whose fingers pause on his phone screen.

“Whatever do you mean?” Niall feigns ignorance, sort of. He can’t hide his grin very well.

“Oh, you know, whatever you get into when we’re off with our ladies,” Zayn says. “Your little dates.”

Harry is definitely paying attention now, as if waiting for Niall to deny it.

Niall nods. “Oh, right, our dates.” Harry twitches. “Well, we’ll be in New York tonight, so we could of course hit up some tourist traps, yeah?”

“Of course,” Zayn says. “But those might be a bit crowded, mate. Might want to go somewhere a bit quieter, since it’s only, what, your third date?” Zayn is a genius. Niall could kiss him.

“Depends on where you start counting from, eh? I mean we went out mostly as friends for a while but now it’s a little different, you know,” Niall says. Harry’s a little pink in the cheeks now.

“Are you talking about me?” Harry finally asks, and Niall and Zayn both laugh and deny it, and Harry smiles a little, almost shy. Then the bus hits a mighty pothole and Harry flops right off his seat and onto the floor.

As Harry picks himself up and stumbles to the bathroom with an “I have to wee,” Zayn pokes Niall in the stomach and leans in close.

“The problem with the both of you, right, is that you’re fucking oblivious. Neither of you understand what’s happening until you get slapped upside the head with it. So you’ve got to be obtuse and just say it out loud or he’ll never guess.”

Zayn is a genius. Niall won’t kiss him, but he appreciates it.

“Who’ll never guess what?” asks Liam as he and Louis sit down on top of them.

Zayn barks out a laugh and tackles Louis, and the whole thing devolves into three boys groping and grappling on the floor of a moving bus. Harry pokes his head out of the bathroom and locks eyes with Niall and Niall smiles at him, catching him off guard. He turns pink again and goes right back in the bathroom.

I'm leaving out the whistles and bells (6/7)

Niall has Harry cornered. They’re in a private booth at the fondue restaurant, and Harry’s back is to the wall. He looks very dumbstruck and slightly lost.

“And here’re your forks,” the waiter says, handing them each long little dipping forks and fancy cloth napkins. “Enjoy.”

Niall tucks his napkin into his collar and looks at Harry, who stares back at the fondue pot. “Do you need help with your napkin or something?”

“No, I, uh.” Harry stuffs the napkin into his collar as well. “Well. I’ve got a question, I guess?”

Niall tries to keep his face neutral. “And what’s that?”

Harry picks up a piece of bread and pokes the fondue fork into it. “Maybe more of a confession than a question.” He dips the fork into the cheese and daintily places it in his mouth.

“You’re not supposed to put the fondue fork in your mouth,” Niall says, clucking with disapproval.

Harry does it again.

“You’re a complete prat,” says Niall, fondly. He takes a bite off his own fondue fork. “What did you want to ask, or confess?”

Harry lays his forearms down on the table, one on either side of the pot, palms up and open. “I’ve sort of been trying to. Take you out? On little, dunno, dates. This whole tour. Not sure if you noticed, but they’re not really just mate dates, right?”

“Do you mean to tell me,” Niall says, trying very hard to hide his smile, “that you’ve been getting romantic with me this whole time?”

“Er, yes,” Harry says.

“And I hadn’t noticed?”

“Er, yes,” Harry says.

Niall can’t not smile anymore. “This whole time, and I had no idea?”

“Er,” Harry says. “Are you having a go at me?”

Niall lets out a giggle. “Harry, mate, I figured it out at the zoo.”

“Oh,” Harry says. “And you just let me keep going with it?”

“Figured I could one-up you, yeah? Out-Harry you. And, honestly, it’s been great fun watching you try to plan bigger and bigger dates.”

“So this is a date, then?”

Harry looks like a deer in headlights, and Niall isn’t sure whether to reach out and pet him or to laugh at the look on his face. “Harry,” he says. “Why do you think I brought you to the fanciest fondue restaurant in fucking New York City?”

“Right,” Harry says, as if noticing where he was for the first time. “Well. That changes my plans, a little.”

“How long was it going to take you to just come clean with me?” Niall can’t hold in his laughter anymore, and Harry flicks a cheesy piece of bread at him.

“Wait,” Harry says, holding up another piece of bread. “You brought me here.”

Niall nods and dips another, much larger piece of bread into the cheese.

“So this time you took me on a date?”

Niall nods again, his mouth full of delicious cheesy bread.

“So does that mean we’re dating each other now?”

Niall swallows. “It could just mean that we’re reciprocating favors or something.”

Harry thinks for a moment. “Nah, I like dating each other better.”

The waiter comes back and replaces the cheese pot with a chocolate pot, the bread for fruit, and the long forks for other long forks. Niall smiles. He loves dessert. Harry is looking at him with a strange expression, a mix between longing and fondness, and Niall isn’t sure what to do to break the tension other than to shift the chocolate pot over a few inches and lean across the table and kiss him.

He’s kissed Harry before, in different settings, on dares and out of boredom, but never like this; never with a plate of fruit between them and a very well-paid waiter watching them from the back, never out in almost-public. It’s like swimming underwater deeper and deeper and finally, finally coming up for air, and Niall is addicted to that feeling after only one try.

“Wow,” Harry says as Niall pulls back. “Wow. Let’s do that again.” He reaches out and grabs Niall by the collar, bringing him back, and Niall smiles to himself; if he has Harry asking for more, that definitely means he’s won, right?

He thinks it does.

I'm leaving out the whistles and bells (7/7)

Liam is lying on his own bed as Niall returns that night, holding his phone above him, his face illuminated in the cold blue glow. “Hello,” he says.

“Hi back,” Niall replies, kicking his shoes off and flopping onto his own bed. The door reopens and Harry’s face appears; Niall motions him to come in, shrugging his shoulders as if to say, “Whatever.”

Harry lies down in front of Niall, who pulls him in like a toy.

“Good news,” Liam says, smiling widely, “Dani and I are back together. So you two can keep doing your little single-pringle day off thing, yeah?”

Harry and Niall stare at each other. “Er, yeah,” Niall finally says, “I guess we can.”

“Happy for you, mate,” Harry says, reaching his hand into Niall’s boxers. “Really am. She’s good for you.” He pauses around Niall’s sharp intake of breath. “And good for us, too,” he finishes quietly.

Niall can’t say no to that.


:) I'm crossposting this to AO3; the link is here:

I hope you liked that, OP! I certainly had fun writing it!!


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