Niall's POV
"So...you thought I could help you?" Zayn asked, taking a drag from the cigarette held between his two fingers. His brow was raised, obviously either in confusion or amusement. Knowing Zayn, it was probably both.
"Well, Harry was being useless. I really don't need to hear someone tell me that it's my decision. I know it is but my issue is that I have no idea what to do," I sighed.
"Niall, I can't just tell you whether you should forgive your mother or not. Harry's right, you're the only person who would know if having a relationship with her is worth it. No one can make that decision but yourself," he replied.
"But what if I make the wrong one?" I asked, frowning at him.
"You're smart, you'll figure it out. Whatever happens, you'll always have Harry behind you. Personally, I think he spends a little too much time behind you," he murmured.
"What? I-- Zayn, shut up," I hissed, my cheeks flushing red, drawing an amused laugh from Zayn.
"Couldn't resist," he smirked.
"Well try harder, cause I'll fucking hit you if you so much as imply anything else about my sex life," I muttered, trying not to show Zayn that he had flustered me to this point.
"Niall, I'm not scared of you. And no, I'm not scared of Harry either, so don't try and get him involved," he grinned.
"You're supposed to be helping me," I whined. "And no one's scared of Harry, I wouldn't bother getting him involved. The worst he'll do is tell some god-awful joke and get upset when you don't laugh at it."
"I am helping you. Your mind's off of your problem, isn't it?" he grinned.
"I-- well, yeah. But now it's back on it and I'm still clueless," I frowned. "I thought you were the insightful one that gives helpful advice."
"I do give you helpful advice. Need I remind you that I was the one who helped you sort out your feelings for Harry?"
"Not really. I had feelings for Harry before I even spoke to you," I shrugged.
"Well, who do you think convinced Harry to stop running from his feelings and take you out on a date. If it weren't for me, you would both be doing that weird fuck and not speak for a few days thing," he replied.
"We would have figured it out eventually. Things always fix themselves eventually."
"See, there's the answer to your current predicament," he smirked.
"You-- I fucking hate you."
~
Harry sighed, closing his bedroom door with his foot, before I moved forward to push him into it, my chest pressed flush against his.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Harry asked, pressing a chaste kiss to my lips, his hands moving to my behind and cupping it gently.
"You say that as if we've never done this before," I raised my eyebrow, my hands moving up his already bare chest and gripping his biceps. "You don't have to ask me every time you want to do something."
He hummed, kissing down my jaw and onto my neck.
"I always like to be sure," he murmured, kissing my lips properly, taking my bottom lip between his teeth and tugging it, before pulling away and grinning at me.
I rolled my eyes, pulling my shirt over my head and allowing him to guide me over to his bed.
He lay on his back, allowing me to kiss down his neck, savouring the noises he was making as my lips moved lower. My hands moved down to the waistband of his jeans, undoing them and dragging them down his legs, exposing his erection.
"Ni, get on with it," he let out once he had noticed I had stopped my movements, looking up at me with eyes filled of impatience and lust.
I hummed, sitting up completely and grinning at him.
"Part of me just wants to take my time," I said teasingly, knowing exactly how it was effecting him.
"Trust me, you don't want to do that," he muttered, darkened green eyes narrowed at me.
"I'm so scared," I muttered sarcastically, yet lowered my head to lick at the tip of his dick, taking it into my mouth once I heard Harry's moans of approval.
"Christ, Niall," he choked out, burying his hands in my hair.
My eyes fluttered closed, not knowing to focus more on pleasing Harry or trying not to choke myself. He moaned, hands tightening their grip, not particularly giving me much choice on either option.
My tongue ran along his dick and I sucked tighter, swallowing him impossibly deeper, ignoring the fact that I had possibly the worst gag reflex in the world.
I had done this many times before, so I was considerably used to the feeling and knew how to pace myself. Of course, sometimes Harry could get carried away, which makes it harder for me, but I had learned how to handle it.
His hands tugged harshly on my hair, which was the only warning I got before he had released down my throat.
I pulled off of him, swallowing his load and cringing slightly at the taste, my eyes opening to look at him. He was sweaty, hair sticking to his face and his bottom lip was swollen from what I had assumed to be him biting it.
He was slightly out of breath, yet he still pulled me forward and into his chest, his hands running down my back and cupping my thighs.
"God, I love you," he breathed out.
I sighed, burying my face further into his neck.
"Love you too," I murmured.
"Alright, your turn," he said, gently pushing me off of him so I was the one laying on my back. He sat up, moving himself to kneel between my legs, his hands resting gently on my thighs.
He kissed down my chest and towards the waistband of my jeans, nipping softly at the skin, causing me to reach down and grip his hair tightly. He hissed lightly, looking up at me with a dark look in his eyes.
"Don't make me tie your hands up again," he murmured.
"What if I want you to?" I questioned, tilting my head slightly in a way that I knew looked way too innocent considering the position we were currently in.
He let out a choked breath, his lip moving between his teeth as he looked into my eyes. He rose to his feet and moved away from the bed, returning with one of his many bandannas.
"Hold you hands out," he said. He watched as I lifted my arms and held my wrists together, tying the material around them and pressing them back down above my head, tying the other end to his headboard.
His head lowered, warm mouth pressing back onto my already heated skin and I pulled on my restraints, wanting nothing more than to use my hands for some sort of release.
"Maybe I should take my time with you," he murmured, pressing his lips to my clothed crotch and looking up to meet my eyes.
"Daddy, please," I moaned, knowing that his teasing was doing nothing but causing me more pain.
"What do you want, baby?" he asked, placing a hand on my crotch and squeezing it roughly, drawing a choked moan from my throat.
"Just-- please do something," I groaned in frustration.
He moved closer to my face, his hands moving to cup my cheeks. He kissed me firmly, effectively swallowing any moans that left my mouth. I kissed him back just as desperately as it was the only thing I could do with my hands tied.
He was quick to remove my pants, dragging my boxers down with them and leaving me completely bare. His mouth moved to my dick as soon he had removed my clothing, taking me with much less difficulty seeing as he was blessed with a much less sensitive gag reflex.
I had no choice but to take what he gave me, my restrained wrists and his hands firmly holding my hips to the mattress making it impossible for me to make him go any deeper.
He pulled away, eyes flickering up to meet mine as he smirked.
"I want to try something," he murmured.
Before I could say anything, he had flipped me around so I was laying on my stomach.
"You can tell me to stop if you want me to. I'm not going to force you to do anything," he said softly, his hand running along my inner thigh comfortingly.
Normally, I would be nervous but the way that Harry was touching and speaking to me made me feel more at ease. I couldn't possibly feel uncomfortable in this situation.
"Go for it," I let out softly, resting my head on the pillow as I felt Harry's hands grip my hips and lift them, one of his knees moving between my legs and spreading them open.
Considering how...well, active mine and Harry's sex lives were, you would have thought that we had tried this before but we hadn't. Of course, I didn't really have anything against it, but for some reason it just wasn't something we had considered doing.
His tongue licked my entrance, causing me to clench my eyes shut, digging my nails into my palms in an attempt to hold in the loud noises I wanted to make.
"We're alone, princess. You can be as loud as you want," he murmured against my skin, obviously sensing the noises I was trying to hold back.
His use of that damn name would have usually resulted in some kind of protest from me, though this time I was in no position to say anything. I didn't think I could have said any words even if I wanted to.
He seemed shocked at my lack of a reply and I would have laughed but when I felt his tongue licking at me, I let out a moan, feeling the breath suddenly get knocked out of me. He continued to rim me slowly, seemingly fuelled by the noises I made and judging by the tight grip he had on my thighs, he was enjoying it just as much as I was.
I felt him press in a finger beside his tongue, pushing deeper into me and by that point I was way too breathless to focus on anything else. His other hand moved to grip my hardened dick, adding another finger alongside the other.
I cursed, biting my lip roughly as Harry continued to get me off, quickening his pace as the noises fell from my mouth.
"Fucking hell," I let out, releasing all over Harry's hand and the bed underneath.
Harry sat up and as soon as I could no longer feel him touching me, my knees weakened and I dropped completely onto my stomach, slightly awkwardly due to my hands still being tied.
He released a breathy chuckle, moving forward and untying my hands, gently rolling me over to face him.
"You alright?" he asked, moving his hand up to wipe away the tears that had leaked from my eyes.
"Perfect," I replied softly, moving my hands up to my face in order to examine my wrists that had turned pink from the bandanna, which Harry had untied from his bed and thrown onto the floor.
"Was that too much?" I heard him question, and I looked up from my wrists to stare at him.
"I can handle it," I rolled my eyes at Harry's blatant protectiveness. Of course, he hadn't ever rimmed me before but that didn't mean I couldn't handle it the minute we tried to do something different.
He grinned, kissing my forehead and laying down beside me.
~
I sighed, my eyes closing as I laid my head against the window of Harry's car, earning a soft laugh from Harry. Unfortunately, mine and Harry's actions were only a temporary distraction and the ride back to my house was more awkward than it should have been.
"It's not funny, Harry. I'm stressed," I whined.
His hand slipped into mine and I opened my eyes to see him rubbing my knuckles softly. Normally, I would have told him off for laughing at me but the soft way he was touching me was probably the only thing keeping me from completely breaking down.
"I know you are, babe. I'm sorry for laughing. You're just really cute when you're being dramatic," he shrugged.
"I don't want to go inside. Can we go somewhere else?" I asked, looking up to meet his eyes.
"Baby, you know I hate seeing you like this but you can't keep avoiding your house. Look, it's been a week since you told your mother that you'll think about it, you don't have to make a decision now. If she really deserves your forgiveness, she can wait until you're ready," he told me.
"If she really deserves my forgiveness, I would fucking know it by now. Why can't anyone understand that I don't want to fucking deal with this shit," I practically snapped.
"I'll text you later, okay?" he sighed, his hand that wasn't holding mine had risen to run through his hair.
"Fine."
I stepped out of his car, slamming the door shut.
"Ni," he called out, rolling the window down to look at me. "I love you," he murmured.
He didn't give me an opportunity to reply, driving off and leaving me standing outside my house.
~
I walked inside the house, the slamming of the door alerting my parents that I was there.
From the looks of things, they had been fighting again. Things seemed rather tense, though not exactly in the same way as usual. It felt like they had been yelling at each other and had only stopped once I had come in.
They had never really fought before. Well, not in front of me, that is. They were always the type to push things away, they never really communicated with each other. It always felt like two strangers were living together, rather than a married couple.
It felt nice to know it wasn't just me that they had trouble showing affection to.
My mother sent me a small smile as I passed them, one in which I didn't bother to return, and she seemed to understand that I still hadn't forgiven her.
As Harry had said, it had been a week after the conversation we had. I hadn't spoken a word to her since and she appeared to realise that I needed space, as she hadn't tried to talk to me.
She never really had the opportunity to, considering I was rarely ever alone. This had been the first day since the conversation where I didn't have someone there to distract me. Usually Harry would be there, which gave me an excuse to avoid my mother. If Harry couldn't be there, Louis or Jade wouldn't hesitate to come over.
However, I knew I couldn't continue to depend on other people dropping whatever it was that they may have been doing in order to help me, so this day had to be one I spent alone.
I climbed the stairs, entering my room and allowed the door to loudly slam behind me. Part of me wished my mother just continued to act as her old, homophobic self. Perhaps having her complain that I wasn't good enough would be easier to deal with, as opposed to the stress I was currently feeling.
I didn't understand which option would be better. I could either forgive her and be way too nice, or I could deny her apology and be a bitch that couldn't get over something.
Of course, seventeen years of what could be described as mental abuse should give me a reason to show that I wasn't being irrational and holding an unnecessary grudge but there was something holding me back from refusing her apology.
I groaned. Harry was right, I was way too nice. Thinking of Harry brought back the realisation that I had acted completely irrational to him. After years of my parents forcing me to stress over every little thing, one would have thought that I could handle stress and not have to take it out on my boyfriend, who may not understand how I'm feeling, yet he was trying.
I unlocked my phone, scrolling to our text conversation.
To Harry:
I love you too. I'm sorry.