#Teyana x Niall

[marisa-writes]

Teyana & Niall (7/?) // read ‘sangria on your lips’ + drabbles here

[1dcraftawards]

MARCH AOM

Hello everyone! It is time to reveal who our author of the month is! They will be revealed below along with an interview we conducted with them! Hope you enjoy x

-1D Craft Awards Team

And our March Author of the Month is.....

@marisa-writes​!!!

Questions:

1. Did you start writing fanfiction for One Direction, or was there another fandom that you wrote fanfiction for before this?

Before I found my way to One Direction fanfiction, I wrote Jonas Brothers fanfiction for a few years and I loved it immensely! I wouldn’t still be writing fic to this day if not for the relationships I built in that fandom, and the love I received both from my readers and my writing friends. I’ve been sharing my writing online for about ten years now, which is crazy to me. It was my connection to people I met through JBFA that led me to eventually make my way to 1DFF, though I was a very casual reader and not a writer in the beginning. I was also a casual fan of 1D at the time, definitely into their music but not planning to dive in much beyond that. Oh, how the tables have turned...

2. How old were you when you started writing fanfiction?

In 6th grade, my friends and I used to share the joy of writing this fake gossip column between us in which we were the members of this epic girl band. We would write about all of our exploits in the band and in our fictional personal lives, where we were  - obviously - dating famous people, like members of ‘N Sync and the Backstreet Boys. In 7th grade, I wrote pages and pages of stories on loose-leaf paper about myself and my friends and threw in my celebrity crush of the moment as a love interest, so I suppose those stories were my first attempts at writing fanfiction.

This was in the early 2000s, so I didn’t really know my way around finding fanfics on the internet until a couple of years later, but aside from these self-insert stories, the first piece of fanfiction I remember writing with original characters was a Justin Timberlake one I wrote during my freshman year of high school. I kept it in a spiral that I decorated with pictures of Justin and my “face claim” - before face claims had a name - for my original character, Jamie (to show my age, her face claim was Samantha Mumba). I still have that notebook and know exactly where it is. I pull it out every once in a while to remind myself of the journey my writing has taken, because WOW, was that story bad! But I’d never be where I am if I hadn’t written it!

3. What’s been your favorite fic you’ve written to work on so far?

What a terrible question. Asking me to choose between my stories is a lot like asking me to choose between my non-existent children!

I have thoroughly enjoyed writing all of the projects I’ve shared so far, but the summer that I wrote the sangria series was like magic. Teyana and Niall came out of a couple days’ worth of me listening to one of my favorite R&B artists, Jon B., on repeat, and after one lengthy one-shot in which I’d put a lot of thought into their back-story as well as the one I was telling in that particular piece, I was a goner for them. While writing that series, I was an endless well of inspiration and I enjoyed creating those characters and spending so much time in their world.

The Different Strokes series has been the gift that keeps on giving for a few years now, and the joy that’s come from showcasing Liam and Georgia’s love for one another as their family grows has pleased me immensely.

I also feel very similarly about one of my one-shots, goodnight, good morning. Creatively, it was just an absolute joy to write and I can’t help but regard it with fondness whenever I think about it. It came out of left field for me, but my love of the stuck-in-the-elevator trope combined with my love of Liam in nice winter coats made for a piece of writing I am super proud to say I’ve written.

4. Is there a fic that you really wanted to write, but you just never did?

I have a plethora of barely-started fics that just sit taunting me in my Google Docs. The two that haunt me the most are Basketball Jones, an AU in which Liam is a point guard playing on the same university team as my OFC Tionne’s twin brother, Amari, and Roots, in which newly-solo Liam is stoked when presented with the opportunity to work with a legendary soul artist named Maurice Collins to complete his album, but the project ends up getting passed off to Maurice’s daughter Cleo instead. Both stories are the kind you wish would write themselves because you just want them to be out there in the world, you know? But alas, I suppose I have to do the work myself, and I just haven’t been able to get either project to take off just yet.

5. What’s your favorite trope to write?

ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIPS! God, I’m such a sucker for it. I know a lot of people are fans of the build-up and all the angst and heartache and reconciliation that comes with it, but I’m always the one at the end going, “So what’s next?” I love to see what happens past the happy (or sometimes, not-so-happy) ending. There is so much to be told in what happens between a pairing when they’re committed and figuring out how to be together, and I adore being able to showcase that, especially because it’s not something you see as often as other tropes in fic.

6. What’s your ideal space to write in?

I like writing in my room. It’s quiet, peaceful, my own space. Sometimes I’ll sit on my bed; other times, I like to kick back in my chair in the corner where my lights are hung - my little reading/writing/tv-watching nook - and I’ll prop my feet up on my ottoman and do some writing with a nice cup of tea. I like to be as relaxed as possible, so I can really let my mind wade through all the lines of dialogue and scenes that I want to write.

7. What inspires you to write?

All sorts of things. For many years, it was music. I used to require music playing when I wrote, but I write in silence more often than not now. Still, music is a heavy inspiration for me - there are stories to find even in the songs that don’t seem like, lyrically, they’d provide any. But the mind is a powerful thing, and so is music, and when the two work together, magic tends to happen.

I also find inspiration in the world around me, and in the things I read. I’m a big fan of studying how people interact with one another. Relationships - familial, platonic, or romantic - are fascinating to me, and I love to write about how people react to the others around them, or the environment around them. I believe certain people and places come into your life exactly when they’re meant to for reasons you may or may not understand at the time, but they’re always important in your journey, and I love to write about that.

As a black woman, having the opportunity to continuously write about black women is also a huge inspiration for me, which is something you’ll notice in looking at the original female characters I write. One of my favorite authors, Alyssa Cole, is a black woman who has written both historical and contemporary romances, and she floors me with every piece of hers that I read because the diversity she includes in every story is encompassing and feels effortless. She paints a picture of what our diverse world looks like or has looked like in the past with every novel or novella she writes, and she inspires me to use my words to share stories that feature black women of all shapes, sizes, and backgrounds at the center because it’s important to me to see incredible black women having their stories told. Alyssa’s diversity doesn’t stop at just black characters, either, which is even more marvelous to me. She’s a force to be reckoned with, and I always joke that I want to be her when I grow up, but let’s be real, I’m not joking.

8. Do you typically like to listen to music when you write? If so, what do you listen to?

I inadvertently just answered this question! Back in my must-listen-to-music days, I would put Jason Reeves’ The Magnificent Adventures of Heartache (And Other Frightening Tales…) on repeat. That album in itself tells a story from start to finish of falling in love, being in love, getting your heart broken, and starting over, and there was something in the magic of Jason’s lyrics and musicality that used to wring endless sparks of inspiration from me. Whenever I felt stuck, I would turn that album on and the words would flow. Nowadays, I tend to find comfort in the quiet, but if a particular song or collection of songs has inspired something I’ve written, like Jon B. did with sangria on your lips, or SoMo’s “For You” did with the one-shot of the same name, I’ll listen to whatever’s inspiring me on repeat.

9. Do you have any plans for any future fic ideas you’d like to pursue?

Nothing confirmed at the moment! If I could get those fics I have haunting me in my Google Docs to wander past small blurbs and vague plot ideas, that’d be wonderful. I’ll write fanfiction in this fandom as long as I’m inspired.

10. Do you have any advice for other writers in the fandom?

WRITE. FOR. YOU. Look at that again, read it over and over until it’s ingrained deep in your mind and heart. Don’t write with the goal in mind to gain ‘x’ number of readers, and don’t write to measure up to anyone else. We as writers are our own worst critics and conspiracy theorists, and we will come up with a hundred different reasons to stop writing when we’re discouraged or frustrated, or compare ourselves to others and consider them leagues above us. It is so easy to talk ourselves in circles of why we should quit because of whatever reasons we’ve decided on in that precise moment, but you know what? If you write, you started for a reason. It gave you feelings you’d never experienced before and wanted to chase so hard that they drove you to write something that came from your mind, your heart, your fingertips. Do you realize how extraordinary that is?

Nothing you write will ever mean much if you don’t write it for you. You can’t love to do this and pour your heart into your words if they aren’t ones that mean something to you. You are never going to please everyone that reads your writing, which is often a hard truth to swallow because we just want to be liked, and you will be by some! But it’s important that you write something you’ll be proud to attach your name to, because someone is going to be very pleased with it, but most importantly, you will be pleased with it. We grow and change as writers and so does our level of work, but looking back and cringing because maturity has made us better writers is not the same as looking back and cringing because what we wrote doesn’t reflect who we’ve been at any stage. Write to satisfy yourself at whatever place in life you’re in. No regrets when you look back.

11. What is your writing process like?

It very much depends on the project! One-shots are my bread and butter, and those are often things I can write in a breeze when I’m inspired. My one-shots are usually the lengthy type, more of a short-story packed into a smaller package, so writing them tends to go smoothest for me.

For my chaptered projects, or the ones that started as one-shots and turned into stories or series, it’s a slower process for me. I always have a general plot line and specific important moments in mind, but I’m not the outlining type at all - feels too stifling for me, and I like the freedom to adjust certain plot points when the process serves. If I’m full of inspiration and my life allows me the freedom to sit down and write away, I will! I’ve recently moved myself out of a life situation that was taking a lot of that creativity and peace of mind away from me, and I’m hoping to find my way back to some sort of constant stream of inspiration soon.

Author Specific:

1. Why would you say you’re more attuned to writing Liam and Niall out of all the boys? Would you ever write for Harry / Louis / Zayn?

Liam is the whole reason I wound up in this lovely mess. I became a fan of 1D’s music from the first album, but genuinely had no intention of going beyond that in terms of interest. I’d recently exited the Jonas Brothers fandom as a whole because the cattiness and pettiness of some fans was absolutely exhausting and I needed a break from fandom for a good while (or so I thought, as I eventually found myself neck-deep in the Big Time Rush fandom). Around 2013, though, Liam’s vocals, smile, and stage presence had me slowly turning into the eye emoji. And those who have known me for quite a while can probably recall the night in 2015 where I drank a lot of wine and looked at a lot of pictures of him on Tumblr and became a complete goner.

It took me a little bit to start writing about him, however. I’d been reading some 1D fic because a dear friend I’d met through JBFA had moved to writing 1D fic and I once told her I’d read Magic School Bus fanfiction if she wrote it, so I obviously followed her to 1DFF. As I became more interested in Liam, I started reading some Liam fics, trying to get a hang on his personality because at the time I wrote mainly OU and I love finding that authenticity. I also wanted to get a feel for writing characters who weren’t American, like I am. Eventually, I came up with some ideas, decided to get my feet wet, and started writing. I would say I’m attuned to writing Liam because in learning about him, I connected with him. I adore him as a person and an artist, and hardly anyone writes about him these days (which breaks my heart), so I continue to because he makes me happy and we could all use a little more Liam-centric stories in our lives.

As for Niall, I was blown away by the leaps and bounds of the growth of his vocal talent on Made in the A.M. He really shined on those songs for me, and when his solo career started rolling, I was mesmerized by the way he was going about it. Very deliberate with his choices, taking his time, warming everyone up to the magic he’d been possessing for years. I was floored by his magnetism both as a person and an artist, and it drew me to write about him. While it was completely unexpected because I’d been gone for Liam for quite some time, I don’t regret a single minute of it.

I would absolutely write for Harry, Zayn, or Louis if a story idea struck me. I actually started a Harry story that I stalled with big time because I scared myself out of confidence with the massiveness of writing a story with supernatural elements, but hey, maybe someday!

2. What is one moment from “Regarding Our Ghosts” that you never got to write but want to?

ROG, my OG baby! I’m unbelievably heartbroken that I haven’t been able to finish that fic, because it was a passion project, but it always holds such a solid place in my heart.

In the story, Liam and Lissie were meant to travel home to the UK to visit family for the winter holidays, while Nina and Macy went to see her mother, Noreen, for a few days around Christmas. Over the course of their time apart, I wanted to show how integrated their lives had started to become, with Lissie insisting that she and Liam buy presents for Macy and Nina to give when they returned, and Noreen inquiring after the father-and-daughter pair that Macy couldn’t stop talking about during their visit.

Once Liam returned, he was to drop by Nina’s to catch up with her and see if she needed some help with shoveling snow from the drive. There was a moment in which they laughed and joked and Liam’s laughter made Nina realize how much she’d missed him and it absolutely terrified her because she didn’t have the capacity to put a name to that feeling just yet. There’s a little snippet I wrote on an index card at the place where I used to tutor because it struck me mid-lesson, and I carried that index card in my wallet for years. It went:

He laughs, and oh—oh. His laugh. She missed his laugh. She missed this. She missed Liam.

The feeling settles low in the pit of her stomach, goopy and sweet, and she doesn’t know what to make of it. In her mind, there are little compartments where she sorts out her thoughts and emotions, and as she tries to sort this—that she missed Liam—she can’t. She doesn’t know where to put it.

So she lets it churn in her gut, thickening like a rue, until she can make up her mind.

It was such an important moment for them - a turning point, for Nina at least, realizing that this man she and her daughter had come to rely on in certain ways could be more than just a friend to her. That her feelings could be stronger, and she could maybe feel something for someone again after convincing herself she’d be happy alone if that’s what was meant for her.

Man, I miss that story something fierce, but it stays with me every day.

3. What is one thing you wish you would’ve known before you started writing 1d fic?

That I would get in this deep. Ha. No, honestly, I’m glad that I didn’t have any expectations going in. That’s the best. You learn as you go. Similar to my time writing Jonas Brothers fic, I’ve built some pretty great friendships that I never would have if I hadn’t started writing 1D fic. I even made connections with people who read my Jonas Brothers fanfics but we’d never spoken until I started reading and writing 1D fic!

I’m grateful for the people this has brought into my life, and the opportunity I’ve had to go into this fandom and spend more time honing my craft and getting to shine a light on people of color in my stories, black women specifically. We are so often missing from fiction and that is true from the fanfiction world to the romance novels I read, but our stories are so important and real and as needed as everyone else’s, so I am excited beyond belief that I’ve been able to create several black female characters that have reached out and touched readers of all kinds. I’ve also been able to connect to other authors of color who, like me, write about people who look and think and live like them, and the sense of being seen as a person of color is overwhelming. I hope to see more of it in the future.

4. Who has been your favorite OFC to write? Why?

I’m gonna cheat a bit here because it’s a three-way toss-up between Georgia, Rolly, and Teyana.

Georgia means the world to me because in my previous fandom, I wrote a lot of white OFCs because that was just...what I saw and experienced, and to be honest, I didn’t really think about it much at first. Writing white characters was the “norm”. After a while, I noticed that in seeking out characters who looked like me, I encountered a lot of storylines that featured racism as a conflict between x Jonas Brother’s family and the OFC. It was hard to find stories in which characters were just human beings who happened to be black and faced conflict that had nothing to do with their race. So, I decided to write a story in which that was the case. It opened up my eyes to what I’d been failing to focus on, something that became super important to me the more I reflected on it: seeing black characters represented realistically and in a positive light in fanfiction.

When I eventually came to write 1D fic, I made a very conscious choice to feature black women at the center of my stories, and Georgia was the first. Through her, I was able to show a successful black woman who had started a family with the man she loved, and I was able to showcase little moments of Georgia’s experiences as a black woman that Liam had to learn about, like why she wrapped her hair at night. It sounds like such a small thing, but that was big for me - I couldn’t recall ever seeing that in the writing I’d read thus far, a black woman wrapping her hair at night, so I wrote it. Soon, I had readers coming to me who could relate and said they hadn’t seen it, either. I’ve also had non-black readers who have expressed how much they like the fact that I write about black women, that they enjoy reading stories that focus on people of color. The whole experience has been so moving for me.  It’s made me realize that I am not only doing something I love, but also doing something important.

Rolly Marshall is, in many ways, a reflection of me. I conjured her up when I was a few months into my first year of teaching and overwhelmed, tired, and frustrated beyond belief. She was an escape. I could channel all of the things I loved and dreaded about my job into her and her life, and it was like lifting a weight off my shoulders. Rolly loves her job, like I did, but her experience was one that I created to be more positive than the one I experienced, which has made it both easy and hard to write about her at times. But more than our mutual connection through education, I love Rolly because she feels so genuine to me. She’s awkward and kind-hearted and funny and a good friend to the people in her life. She’s just a good egg. I love her spirit and her humor and that’s a big part of what’s made her such a joy to write. I didn’t expect many people to latch on to her because how many people could really relate to a second grade teacher? To my great surprise, many.

Teyana surprised me with my attachment to her. She and Niall were meant to be a one-time thing, much like Liam and Georgia, but seeing as how those two turned into an eighteen-part thing PLUS a throwback mini-fic, I should’ve known better. It was while I was writing sangria on your lips that I found myself thinking about who Teyana was before she and Niall met. I couldn’t stop thinking about where she came from, building her past. She comes from a single parent home where her father raised her after her mom left. She carries scars from that, from the abandonment she felt when her mom moved on without so much as a single moment to look back. She clung to her Papi and his Cuban culture and grew up with the lessons he instilled in her, including one she taught herself from watching his heart break: that maybe there was no great “one” for her. But that changes when she meets Niall, who challenges everything she thought she could gain from a relationship. He’s truly a partner to her. He has a glimpse into what life is like when your parents aren’t together anymore, so he’s empathetic to what she feels in regards to her mom. He loves her unconditionally. He’s her match, and after years of convincing herself she may never find her match and she’ll be okay with that, Niall is a pleasant surprise, and honestly, he restores her faith in love. She learns she doesn’t need anyone else to make her life complete - her Papi raised her to find that completion all on her own - but having someone to share her life with is a pleasure she’s more than grateful to have.

5. Which one of your fic boys was your favorite to write? Why?

Different Strokes Liam has been my all-time favorite. He’s driven and passionate about his work, completely committed to his family, and there’s a warmth, humor, and sexiness to him that has made him so much fun to write since I began. I love that I can paint him as a complete and utter sop in one piece, a classic romantic in another, and a confident master of seduction in the next. He’s confident and often sure of himself but not immune to insecurities. He’s got different facets, and I love getting to focus on each one at different times as the series shifts.

The Different Strokes series was something that spawned from what was supposed to be a stand-alone one-shot, but I found myself attached to the little family I built for Liam, Georgia, and their son Carter, and my mind expanded upon writing little snippets of them - glimpses of them as Carter grew, as their lives changed, as their family expanded. I am a big fan of established relationships, and I grew so attached to watching Liam mature and change as both a father and a husband. Liam in real life seems to have such a compassionate heart, and before he even became a father, I had a good feeling that he would be a great one and getting to write about him as both a father to his children and a partner to his wife has been such a joy. And with Checkpoints, my mini-fic in the series, I’ve been able to go back to when he and Georgia first met and began seeing each other and it’s been nothing but fun to write!

If not for DS Liam, I wouldn’t have fallen as in love with writing 1D fic as I have, so I am grateful every day for the opportunity I’ve had to expand upon his character and the incredible life he’s built for himself. Writing him has led to writing many other projects that I adore, and I can’t wait to see what’s next for me as a writer.

[cassandra-maston]

Break The Fall - Swsh // What A Time - Julia Michaels & Niall Horan // Falls - ODESZA, Sasha Sloan & The Knocks // Haunted House - Florence + The Machine // D’Evils - SiR // Little Bit - Terror Jr. // WTP - Teyana Taylor RITUAL & Tove Stryke // Yamaguchi - Terror Jr. // Cashmere Cage - rum.gold // Jade - Lolo Zouaï & Blood Orange // Ordinary Pleasure - Toro y Moi // Habit - Still Woozy // Candid - Kllo ( x ) 

Break The Fall

What A Time

@l-jackson x @haileyvb

@saunderscasey x @a-baldwin

@jarrahimi x @kashmira-multani

@b-balcoin x @junonam

@t-perkins x @wind-in-the-willow-balcoin

@larkmumford x @wyattsaugis

Falls

@odessamcsaxton​

@agnescohen​

@bluesbanks

@barnes-sage

Haunted House

@poppy-montenegro​

@ameliebeckers​

@vsaugis

@camdenclaymore

@ginasomethingbetter

D’Evils

@kingkidgrantwood

@think-pink-floyd

@l-jackson

@stiflerschmidt

@chuck-daniels

Little Bit

@teagan-parkinson​

@chanelhcrcwitz​

@nadinedahl​

WTP

Yamaguchi (Sidenote: YO THIS SHIT IS A BANGERRRRRRRR BAD BITCHES ONLYYY BRAPP BRAPPP)

@queen-tinsley

@beautyqueenbunny

@vsaugis

@a-baldwin

@themarielaalves​

Cashmere Cage 

@nixon-peters

@thestefmckibbon

@thenewburymedal

Jade

Ordinary Pleasure 

@adrianwesterfeld

@lelandpalmer-chw

@warrenhutchinsoniii

Habit 

Candid (tbh this is a Heathers Cast song for real for real) 

@vsaugis

[forestgreenrambles]

So so many were robbed. I’m happy for Taylor, Dua, Chloe x Halle, Beyoncé, Megan, and Jhené Aiko but Selena, Halsey, Miley, BTS (yes I know they got one nomination but they were robbed on AOTY because Map of the Soul:7 broke so many records), Abel, Blackpink, Katy Perry, Rina, Zayn, Harry (same situation as BTS because Fine Line deserved more), Niall Horan, KEHLANI (robbed in the R&B category), Lewis Capaldi, Tinashe (also robbed in the R&B cat.), Victoria Monet (R&B too), SUMMER WALKER, Teyana Taylor, Travis Scott for Highest in the Room, and Camilla Cabello for Romance ALL GOT ROBBED. Some of these are my own opinion but a lot of these are agreed on by music critics.

I feel so conflicted about the Grammys situation right now. I’m obviously happy that two of my faves, Taylor Swift and Dua Lipa, got 6 nominations each!!! But, I am so furious and dumbfounded that The Weeknd got 0 nominations. Like how is this possible, it makes no sense whatsoever. Abel deserved to receive recognition from the Grammys for After Hours. I know everyone has their faves, but you cannot deny that After Hours is a masterpiece that deserved to be considered for album of the year. That album was critically well received and broke countless chart records. The song Blinding Lights is hands down the record of the year for 2020. It’s this years most ubiquitous song and it has the longest reign in the top charts of 2020. One of the most talented black artists of our time did not get any nominations, and this just shows how racist the Grammys are. A black man has not won album of the year since 2007, just let that sink in. This should have been Abel’s year, he should have swept the Grammys deservedly so, not because of race but because of his talent. And I can’t help but feel conflicted because if one of my faves wins album of the year, it’ll be the third year in a row that a white woman wins the most prestigious award of the night. I don’t want to make this about race, but this situation just doesn’t sit right with me at all.

[marisa-writes]

Teyana & Niall (6/?) // read ‘sangria on your lips’ + drabbles here

[marisa-writes]

Teyana & Niall: a moodboard

read the ‘sangria’ series ➳ here

[marisa-writes]

now it’s just you and me in the dark 

Number five. Inspired by “Motel Pool” by Travis Garland. Take a listen while you read. As always, find more of Teyana and Niall here.

It’s been a hell of a week.

Teyana’s been working a string of long shifts at the bookstore for the past several days, and those shifts have seemed to bring in a rainbow of clientele—terribly sweet but indecisive old ladies who she essentially ended up giving a tour of the whole bookstore, irate college students in summer school who wanted to place the blame on her for the texts they’d procrastinated on purchasing and were now out of stock, dudes tapping on the front display window while she was restocking shelves who found it charming to point at her ass and give her a thumbs-up.

She’s been soldiering through, a half hour left in her final shift before a blessed couple of days off (as a thank you from her boss), and then a small child belonging to a parent too engrossed in their cell phone screen to pay attention manages to take down an entire display of Mo Willems books in ten seconds flat. 

Teyana wants to scream.

The keyholder position sounded so, so great when it was initially offered to her, she thinks, but now she’s cursing her acceptance as the mother of the child is finally called to attention as the tower of books topples to the floor. She has the nerve to pick up a few copies and place them back haphazardly on the table before taking a few glances around, snatching the child by the hand, and walking away, and Teyana swears that steam shoots out of both of her ears just like in the cartoons.

By the time she and a co-worker have finished reorganizing the display, it’s time to close. Teyana shoots Niall a distress text as she goes about her closing duties, and by lockup time, she checks back to find his reply:

As promised, Niall is waiting outside for her, engine idling in the old red Chevy pickup truck he got a great deal on from some car lot near campus back when he was nineteen, about a month before he and Teyana even met. It’s been a constant in their relationship—he picked her up in it on their first date, it was where they shared their third kiss (the first was on her doorstep, the second was at a gig that Niall and his bandmates had invited her to see), it transported her things and his from their respective dorms over to the apartment they now call home. The truck is very much a part of their relationship, a slightly-rusted little piece of home on wheels. And in it, parked in front of the curb outside the bookstore, is Niall, who reaches across the bench seat to pull the handle and unlatch the door for her.

Teyana climbs in and immediately grins. As promised, there’s ice cream, the evidence of which is melted on Niall’s chin and waiting for her in a dripping sugar cone in his opposite hand.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, when he hands it over to her after she’s clicked her seatbelt in place and cranked the passenger’s side window down all the way. “I tried to pick it up last minute, but…”

“Summer,” Teyana finishes, with a knowing laugh, and she yelps as a stream of melted ice cream goes gliding down her wrist. She moves quickly to catch it, tongue swiping along the rim of the cone while her opposite hand blindly fumbles for the latch of the glove compartment, until she can grasp at a couple of napkins. She cleans up her arm before reaching over to Niall, pulling him towards her by the chin and wiping him clean, too.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, a lovely blush filling up his cheeks.

“You’re welcome,” Teyana replies, kissing him sweetly on the mouth before leaning back against the seat and taking another lick of ice cream. “All right. You proposed a drive?”

Niall blinks, momentarily dazed by her kiss, and then his eyes brighten and he nods before reaching an arm over the seat. He digs around until he pulls up his gym bag by the handle straps, tossing it gently into the space between them on the front seat. “Yeah,” he says, “but you gotta change first.”

“Change?” Teyana asks. With her free hand, she unzips the bag and rifles around, surprised when she feels the familiar material of swimwear slide between her fingers. She pulls it into view to find that Niall has packed her favorite bikini, the coral-colored one she’d bought the previous summer, and a couple of towels from the linen closet that Teyana’s had since her freshman year.

Holding up her bikini top, Teyana quirks an eyebrow, a silent query of “What for?” in her eyes.

Niall just smiles in response. “Trust me.”

So, trust him she does, like always, and they drive for miles and miles, losing track of time and distance as Teyana puts all of her bad days in the rear view. They sing songs at the top of their lungs—Niall, in his typical nature, sounding like he was born for it—and by the time Niall pulls off the road and putters into the parking lot at the back of a little motel, the clock display reads 11:57, and Teyana isn’t sure just how far they’ve traveled.

“Where are we?” she asks him.

Niall shrugs, turning the hand crank of the window, and Teyana follows suit on her side of the truck. “No clue,” he replies, reaching up towards the back of his neck. He pulls his shirt over his head in one smooth motion and tosses it into the backseat, then nods towards the door on his side of the cab. “Come on.”

Teyana knows that in retrospect, they will laugh about this long after this night, genuinely laugh, with the way her eyes widen once she’s realized Niall’s plan, and he has to drag her towards the low-lined fence surrounding the rectangular motel pool. She shakes her head as he gallantly hops the fence, snagging the hem of his swim shorts on the top of the fence as he goes over, and she lets out a panicked laugh as he struggles to get himself unhooked, then beckons her over, pouting his lips until she gives in.

Her hop over the fence is less than graceful, too, but nothing gets caught, surprisingly, the long hem of the t-shirt she pulled over her swimsuit after she changed in the backseat balled up in her fist as she takes the leap to the other side of the fence. Niall gives her a quiet round of applause and holds his hands up, fingers extended in a rating, a solid six of out ten.

She flips him off in return, and he laughs and offers her a grin before motioning towards the pool with his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Teyana knows that look and begins to protest, but Niall turns his back to her and with a running start, he cannonballs into the pool.

When he resurfaces, he’s soaked through, and he pushes the hair clinging to his forehead back and smiles. That smile sends a jolt of electricity through Teyana, excitement coursing through her veins, but still she can’t quite stop fretting, logic running laps in her mind.

Technically, they’re trespassing. The last thing either of them needs is to be caught hopping fences and diving into pools after hours at motels where they aren’t paying guests. Still, Niall swims about in the quiet of the night as if he hasn’t a single thought in his mind of getting caught, humming the theme music from Jaws before pinching his nose and dipping below the surface until he’s only visible from the eyes up.

Her little blue-eyed shark in the water.

Worrying at her bottom lip, Teyana lingers back a few feet, near the fence, at war with herself and the thrill of this night. So often, Niall is all impulse, going with what feels good or presents an adventurous opportunity for himself or the two of them. He’s not stupid, never risky to the point of danger, but he feels dangerous sometimes, willing and open to try things they never have, or do things like this, drive a couple hours out of the city to stop off at a random motel just to go for a swim. Just because she’s had a series of bad days that have sent her spirits plummeting.

He’s incredible.

When Niall pops up again, he simply stares, in that way he does that always makes Teyana break out in a full-bodied blush because it’s like he’s never seen anything better than her. Self-conscious under his gaze, she pulls the hair tie from her hair and snaps it around her wrist, fingers loosening up her curls so they fall down towards her shoulders.

“Unfair of you to look so good,” Niall muses, as Teyana tiptoes her way towards the edge of the pool, twisting her fingers up in the fabric at the hem of her shirt. He swallows hard as she pulls it over her head and adds, “Especially when you're all the way up there.”

Tossing her shirt aside, Teyana smiles and tugs the strings securing her bikini top tighter around her neck, fixing the bow as she draws closer to the pool. She gives her bottoms a tug-up as she reaches one leg over the edge, bending the opposite knee until the toes of her extended leg touch the water’s surface. It's cold, and she makes a face, one that pulls a quiet laugh from Niall's mouth.

“It's all right, petal; it's just a little cold.” Niall swims closer, treading water once he's reached her, amusement sparkling in his eyes now.

“A little cold?” Teyana whispers. She huffs and dips her toes in again, the temperature of the pool sending a sharp chill up her spine. “It's the middle of fucking summer; isn't the water supposed to be warm? Y’know, from the sun?”

Niall shrugs. “Suppose so,” he replies, “but it’s probably after midnight now.”

Teyana groans, swirling her toes through the water, willing herself to take the plunge.

Niall, on the other hand, grins. “C’mon, petal, just jump in. I'll catch you, keep you warm.” 

There's an arch of his brows that comes with the last bit.

Teyana rolls her eyes.

“Teyana, I’m serious,” Niall says, laughing again. He smiles, genuinely smiles, and her heart gives an unexpectedly hard thump in her chest. The backdrop of the motel’s ‘VACANCY’ sign paints him in neon red, and she almost misses his blond tips now, with the way they’d surely catch the color in the light.

His tone is achingly sweet as he tells her, “Baby, just jump.”

Sucking in a sharp breath, Teyana takes a few steps back, which makes Niall’s brows furrow, mouth settling into a deep frown. His expression changes when she begins to run forward towards the edge and leaps, and then his smile returns, blinding, the last thing she sees before being submerged underwater.

When she breaks the surface, teeth chattering a bit as she slicks her wet hair back out of her eyes, Niall is still smiling and he reaches for her hand, pulls her in close to him. “Now, see, that wasn't so bad.”

Teyana wraps her legs around Niall’s slim waist when he slides both arms around her, to hold her close. They bump noses, and Teyana laughs, eyes fluttering closed when Niall’s lips gently press to hers. His arms loosen their grip, hands sliding down to cup her bottom, and Teyana sighs, thoroughly entranced by his tongue as the kiss deepens.

“Thank you for this,” she breathes, when he pulls back and presses a sweet kiss to her chin. “Thanks for breaking me out.”

“Of course, petal,” he replies. The sincerity in his eyes is overwhelming. “Anything you need. Always.”

This, she thinks, when he leans in to capture her mouth in another kiss, this is exactly what she needs.

They float together like this for a couple of minutes, sharing kisses and quiet laughter, until Niall wiggles his fingers at her side and she breaks into a fit of giggles. He takes the opportunity to pull away once she’s gone squirming out of his grasp, and she squeals and closes her eyes as his arm skims across the water, sending a large splash in her direction. Then, it’s all-out war, splashing and laughing until they hear footsteps and Niall goes immediately quiet, snatching Teyana by the hand and pulling her towards the pool’s edge.

“Niall—” she whispers, but he puts a finger to his lips as he pulls her flush against him and presses his back to the edge, ducking so their heads are out of sight. His stare is enveloping, even with wide, fear-filled eyes that match hers at the possibility of being caught by someone who might care that they’ve snuck onto the property after dark.

They both breathe a sigh of relief at the not-too-distant sound of an ice machine, and once the footsteps drift out of earshot, Niall stretches his neck up to take a look.

“Coast is clear,” he whispers, sinking back down to get eye level with Teyana.

Teyana’s heart is beating hard and fast in her chest. She swallows thickly, and Niall’s eyes search her face before she reaches up to take fistfuls of his wet hair and pulls him close, kisses him hard, making him grunt softly against her mouth before his lips become pliant. She kisses him breathless, until he’s pulling away and panting, “Baby, I...Jesus Christ.”

Pressed this closely to him, Teyana can feel the way he’s going hard in his swim shorts, and it sobers her up just a touch. They can’t, not here, not in this pool where God knows how many other people have done the same. At that thought, she puts some space between them.

“Sorry,” she mumbles,” biting at her bottom lip, which only makes Niall grunt again. He rubs the heel of his hand firmly against his jaw and clears his throat.

“Maybe we should go,” he says, and Teyana can’t help but smile at the flush in his cheeks that’s apparent even in the dark. “It’s late.”

“Right,” Teyana replies, but it’s absent-minded; her brain is still halfway in her pants, and Niall’s as well.

Niall pulls himself up and out of the pool with a strength in his arms that makes Teyana dizzy with lust, the way his muscles ripple with the motion. He’s careful with the way he bends down to extend a hand to her, shielding the bulge in his shorts from her view as if she hasn’t just felt it against her thigh moments before, but Teyana gives him this, lets him be chivalrous as he pulls her up while she shoves off with her other hand to join him.

Niall’s heading towards the fence where they hopped over when Teyana spies, just to their far left, an entry gate. It’s without a lock, a simple lift latch, and she stifles a laugh while Niall visibly debates how he’s going to hoist himself over the fence with a hard-on. Her laughter catches his ear and then she catches his eye as she motions towards the gate.

“I knew that was there,” he mutters, walking over to grab her by the hand as she snatches up her shirt, and he leads her towards the gate.

“Of course you did, baby,” she replies, her tone saccharine.

Niall looks at her over his shoulder, clearly unamused, and he gives her a sarcastic laugh before flipping up the latch on the gate and pulling her through before closing it softly behind them.

They towel off quietly in the parking lot before Niall climbs up into the driver’s seat, reaching over the back for his t-shirt. He’s turned around again and tugging it over his head when Teyana reaches for the lever that pushes the bench seat back and pulls.

Niall lets out a cry of surprise, startled as the seat slides back with a push of Teyana’s hand, his head still inside his shirt. He yanks it down so that the collar is fitted snugly around his neck, his hands still twisted up in the fabric beneath it as he settles wide eyes on Teyana. “Tey, what are you—”

“Shut up,” she breathes, pushing up on tiptoes until she reaches the step. She eases her way into the truck, into Niall’s lap, bottom of the wide steering wheel pressing into her lower back.

Before Niall can utter another word, Teyana presses her mouth to his, and Niall fumbles around as he tries to kiss her back while he fights to free his hands from the confines of his t-shirt so he can grip her waist.

“Fucking hell,” he breathes, eyes still wide, once he’s finally untangled himself, the shirt hanging carelessly around his neck and shoulders as his fingers fumble for her waistline next. Teyana laughs and presses herself to his bare chest and rolls her hips down towards his crotch, and he swears again, eyes falling closed. “You’ll be the death of me, I swear it.”

Teyana manages a shrug before teasing him with another wind of her hips, and Niall’s hands scoop beneath her to palm her ass now, his head dropping to press a searing line of kisses from the curve of her neck up to the spot just behind her ear.

He nuzzles his nose into her cheek, his voice just a hair above a whisper as he asks, “You’re really gonna fuck me here?”

Teyana pulls back, brows furrowed as she studies his expression. Making love in a car is rather tame, in her opinion. She leans forward and kisses the base of his throat. “Why are you surprised?”

“Well,” he groans, swallowing hard, and she feels the bob of his Adam’s apple against her lips, “we’ve never...in my truck. Surprisingly.”

At the “surprisingly,” Teyana leans back again and laughs, because it is surprising, and then she wriggles her hips against his. “Well,” she replies, mimicking the way he’s just said the same word, “I’d say it’s long overdue.”

There are luckily condoms stashed in Teyana’s purse, and she slides off his lap and over to the passenger’s side of the truck cab to dig one out of the back zippered pocket where she keeps the other sensible things she carries (lip balm, bobby pins, ballpoint pens, an extra hair tie or two) while Niall pulls the shirt around his neck off again and tosses it beside him onto the seat.

He wiggles out of his still-damp swim shorts and after he strokes himself fully hard, he rolls on the condom, then pulls at the strings tying Teyana’s bikini bottoms together at her waist. They both give a satisfied sigh as she sinks down onto his cock, and he mumbles “I love you,” against her lips before she lifts her hips and drops down again.

It’s a slow, insatiable grind, the swell of summer heat surrounding them as the air seeps in through the rolled-down windows. Teyana’s hands feel sticky against Niall’s skin, one hand clasped around the back of his neck, the other clutching his side but soon dropping to twist fingers into the pulled-loose threading of the seat, to help her keep her balance. She can feel the sweat rolling down the center of her back, pooling a bit where the strings of her bikini top are still tied, Niall’s right arm encircling her waist while his left cradles her head, kissing her breathless as they work their way towards climax.

With a whimper, Teyana tips over the edge first, and not long after, with his face buried in her neck, Niall moans and follows suit.

The drive back home is long and quiet. Niall’s behind the wheel again, the windows are rolled down, Teyana’s feet are tucked under her as she curls up on her side of the bench seat. The radio is playing tunes so softly that the lyrics are faint, nearly muted by the sound of the wind coming in. She’s pulled the long t-shirt she had covering her suit back on, while Niall’s is folded and tied around her wrist like a bandanna, and she hangs her arm out of the window, lets her hand ride the waves of the wind for a mile or two.

Niall, happily shirtless, has one hand clutching the top of the steering wheel, the other clutching Teyana’s, fingers entwined, their joined hands resting in the space between them. She glances over at him maybe a half hour into their return trip, and he just grins and tugs her closer, pulling her hand up to his mouth so he can kiss the back a couple times. His eyes linger on hers a little while longer than is probably safe, given they should be focused on the road ahead.

He doesn’t say it before he looks away, the ‘I love you’ that Teyana knows is resting on the tip of his tongue, but he doesn’t need to.

She’s seen everything in his eyes.

[marisa-writes]

Teyana & Niall (5/?) | read ‘sangria on your lips’ + drabbles here

[marisa-writes]

work

Number four. Had this on repeat. More of Niall & Teyana can be found here.

**edit: there’s a little extra/follow-up addition to this - ‘unfinished business’ - which you can read here.

Teyana’s flushed from cheekbone to chest because Niall won’t stop looking at her.

“Stop it,” she breathes, working her fingers deep into the pastry dough she’s been kneading, a craving for something sweet having wracked her brain all afternoon. It’s evening now, just a bit after six, and she hasn’t even thought about dinner yet, getting lost in a parade of dessert recipes on Pinterest before finally settling on one that piqued her interest best. Priorities.

“Stop what?” Niall asks, from his perch on the counter against the wall to her right. His tone is nonchalant, edging towards playful, likely from the smile that Teyana can’t see at the moment but is almost certain is curving his lips.

“I thought you were supposed to be working,” Teyana quips, as she turns her head and catches his eyes on her again before they flit back to the legal pad in Niall’s hands. His pen scratches at the page as he visibly tries his best to play coy, but his smile, like always, gives him away.

“I am working,” he replies, pausing his pen before lifting the pad to show her the writing scrawled across the wide-ruled surface of the page. He arches a brow with an air of cockiness, like he’s put one past her.

Teyana hums in acknowledgement, fingers still kneading the mound of dough on the cutting board in front of her. “I can only imagine how much more work you’d get done if your mind and your eyes stayed fixed on whatever you’re writing right now, Mr. Songwriter.”

Niall laughs, that loud, warm cackle of his, before letting his lips thin out into a clever smile. His eyes sweep the length of her, starting at her face and working their way down.

Teyana doesn’t miss the way his gaze lingers on her backside, which makes the flush in her cheeks deepen, her neck and chest soon to follow, she bets.

The air conditioner in their place is acting shoddy again, fluctuating between semi-reliability and all-out non-function. For much of today, it’s been working the latter angle, and Teyana is annoyed yet unsurprised—of course, on an evening where both she and Niall are home together for an extended period of time, the blasted machine is on the fritz. They’ll need to talk to their landlord soon about getting the whole unit replaced this time, instead of repaired.

To cope, when she’d arrived home, Teyana had stripped out of her work attire and resigned to staying in her boy short underwear and changing into a bralette. Niall arrived home soon after, shuffling around the bed where Teyana was stretched out with the Pinterest app opened on her phone, pinning recipes. His mind had seemed occupied as he’d kissed her temple in greeting, then mumbled his frustrations with the temperature of the room while stripping himself of his t-shirt and jeans. It was unusual, though, the level of groaning he’d done about the heat that was annoying but still more bearable than the last time the machine had gone completely kaput.

“What’s up with you?” she’d asked, brows pulling together as she looked up from her phone to find her boyfriend wearing an expression that set hard lines into his forehead.

“Just...I have this lyric...had this lyric, on the ride home. Slipped my mind now. Kinda pissed about it.” His face relaxed slightly as he gave Teyana his full attention, apologies in his eyes for his demeanor. “Sorry.”

“You didn’t record it on your phone?” she asked him.

“Driving, petal,” Niall reminded her, giving her a look.

“Right, sorry,” she replied. Niall was adamant about safe driving, a quality she liked most about him. She always felt at ease when he was behind the wheel, refusing of any grave distractions like texting while driving. Teyana herself had proved to be more of a driving distraction to him than texting ever would be, in fact.

“It’s not just that.” It was soft, an unexpected admission settling into the quiet pause. He fell to his knees at the foot of the bed, so he and Teyana were eye to eye, and his were kinder now, even beneath worried brows. “The lads and I are kind of...at an impasse of sorts.”

Teyana noted the seriousness of his tone, his expression, and reached a hand forward to rest atop his. “Talk to me.”

Niall heaved a sigh. “We’re split on the decision to release the next EP,” he’d said, brows furrowing. “Curtis and Weiss say it’s done, Artie is indifferent but his mind’s been elsewhere lately—understandable, with everything happening with his dad—and Cricket and I, we’re the ones on the fence.”

While it wasn’t strange that Cricket—James, by his given name—seemed to be seeing eye-to-eye with Niall on the issue, it was a bit surprising that Curtis was not the one Niall mentioned to be in agreement with him, the way they were joined at the hip nearly as much as she and Niall were. Sometimes it was as if the two men shared a brain, especially when it came to all things Rookie Limelight.

Teyana’s brows furrowed. “On the fence?” she’d asked. “That like, rarely happens with you guys.”

“I know,” Niall agreed. “And it’s—I don’t know, petal, maybe I’m making too much of it. The songs are good, the ones we have, but I feel like...like we’re still missing something.”

“Another song?”

Niall nodded.

“Then why don’t you guys hold off a bit, write a couple of new tracks and see if anything sticks?” she suggested. “I mean, what’s the rush?”

“There isn’t one,” Niall replied, before letting out a groan of frustration. “Studio time this go-round has just been...weirdly tense? I don’t know. Songs are a bit more raw than past ones. The guys have been through some shit recently.”

Teyana nodded in understanding. She’d gained knowledge of bits and pieces—a couple of canceled gigs, ended relationships, Artie’s father’s illness landing him in the hospital. The usually jovial group of guys had been nursing some wounds and hardships and the emotions had bled into the music they’d been creating. It made for the end of that creativity resulting in some wickedly good tunes, but it also made sense for some of them to want to be done, to be ready to put it out there and move on to the next.

In that moment, Teyana decided she’d pinned enough recipes, and there was one in particular that had lingered in the back of her mind, a pastry with apples, cinnamon, and sliced almonds. It sounded delightful and seemed pretty simple to make, but she’d have to check and be sure she had all of the ingredients.

Most importantly, she concluded, as she took in his body language, Niall seemed to need some space, and she wanted to give it to him. He was absent from the moment with her, eyes downcast towards the mattress, his chin tilted a bit downward as well. The wrinkles in his forehead had returned tenfold, and Teyana knew her disappearance in the kitchen for a while would serve him well.

Leaning forward, she pressed her lips to Niall’s. She could tell he wasn’t expecting it; it took his mouth several seconds to respond before hers was met with the returned pressure of his.

“What was that for?” he asked, when they pulled apart.

“Because I love you,” she’d replied simply. She reached up to his face and caressed his cheek before rolling over, to edge herself off the bed. “I’ll be in the kitchen, if you need me.”

So, in the kitchen she’d been, alone until about fifteen minutes later, when Niall came sulking in. He’d had the trusty yellow legal pad on which he wrote every song he’d penned for the band in his hands and a blue ink pen from some law office that ended up in their apartment God knows how. Teyana was in the process of getting started, assured that she had all the needed ingredients, and was lining them up on the counter nearest the sink when Niall wordlessly hoisted himself up onto the countertop to the right of her, broad shoulders resting against the cabinets until he leaned forward, concentrated on the pad in his hands. The head of his pen scratched purposefully at the lined paper, and she stole a glance at him every so often, delighted in the set of his jaw, firm and almost unmoving until a spark would light up his eyes and he’d lay heavy ink onto the page, lips set in a soft but satisfied closed-lipped grin.

It was good until she’d finally got herself settled in mixing ingredients for the pastry dough, hefting it out of the bowl onto a floured cutting board. Her hands, thoroughly floured as well, had begun to work themselves into the lumps of dough when she felt a pair of eyes on her and turned to catch Niall’s skittering away from her. She’d raised her brows expectantly, awaiting his eventual returned gaze, but he wouldn’t give in until her back was turned and she’d sense his eyes on her again.

It’s been a few minutes of this now, of Niall stealing glances while Teyana tries to go about her business as if she doesn’t feel close to trembling beneath his attentive gaze, especially now that she’s receiving it head-on. Before Niall arrived, she’d dragged the box fan into the kitchen, plopped it on the floor in a spot that luckily reaches both of them in their respective places of work, and it’s been a bit of relief, for the moment. Even still, that fan is not enough to relieve Teyana of the heat that creeps up her thighs, winding tight coils in her stomach the longer Niall’s unabashed gaze lingers on her backside.

“Seriously, stop,” Teyana says, pulling her fingers free from the dough. She whines at him, turning to face him full-on. “Why do you keep looking at me like that?”

Niall only smiles, his eyes drifting upward to hers before he replies, “Gathering inspiration.”

“What?” Teyana breathes. It’s stupid of her to ask. She knows that there are more than a handful of Rookie Limelight songs that came about by way of her—Niall’s feelings for her, anyway. Still, the sweetness in his tone when he says it is so very sweet that she forgets how very stupid it is to ask.

“I realized what’s missing,” Niall says, setting the legal pad aside, then the pen. With a push of his hands, he slides off the countertop, his feet landing on the floor with a soft thump.

“Did you, now?” she asks, hoping that Niall misses the tremble in her voice.

“I did.” He hasn’t missed it, the smirk that curls his lips and brightens his eyes a clear indication. Those eyes of his darken, however, as he steps closer.

Teyana takes a step back, but there isn’t much space to go anywhere, the edge of the countertop nudging her in the back. She’s not even sure why she’s trying to go anywhere. She knows where this is headed, knows very well that she won’t protest it. “And what did you realize?”

Niall moves forward until he’s reached her, a few inches of space between them before he slides his arms around her waist and pulls her towards him. Teyana keeps her arms hanging limply at her sides, intoxicated by the smell of cologne and sweat on Niall’s skin but still aware of the flour coating her hands.

“It needs something smoother,” Niall says, leaning his head towards hers. It’s timid, and soft, the kiss he presses to her lips, like he’s doing it for the first time instead of the hundredth. “The EP,” he explains, when he allows for a breath of space between their mouths. “It needs something smoother, sensual, to balance it out.”

Teyana manages a nod, trying to process what he’s saying when his eyes are so close, deep and blue as they look into hers.

Most of the songs recorded for the EP, from what Teyana understands, are heavier, elaborately composed, edgier and filled with thick basslines and heavy drum beats and groovy guitar and keyboard bits and a grittiness to Niall’s voice she’s not sure she’s heard in the history of the band’s sound. She’s only heard a few demos so far, some of which she’s not even sure have made it to the EP Niall speaks of, but from what she has heard, she can understand his angle, that something smoother is needed to provide a bit of an ease for the listener. A come down, maybe for the final track. Something just as wonderfully composed as its successors, but lovely and sweet and rich, to draw everything to a close.

“Did you write it? Something smoother?” Teyana asks him, then pauses. Their mouths are centimeters apart, and she swallows quietly, adding, “Sensual?”

“I’m working on it,” Niall replies, and he pushes forward, lips on hers again.

This kiss is not timid; it is not soft. It is hurried, and passionate, and Teyana forgets about the flour on her hands as they come up to press to Niall’s cheeks before sliding up to tangle fingers in his hair.

This seems to egg him on, and Niall groans into the kiss before his hands scramble to slide down her back, over the curve of her ass until they come to rest beneath. He lifts her up in one fluid motion, the silent prompt for Teyana to wrap her legs around his waist coming in loud and clear. She does as she’s urged to do, ankles locking around his back above the waistband of his boxer-briefs as Niall tries to turn, taking out a few containers on the counter as he does, headed towards the entryway of the kitchen.

There’s a bit of blind bumbling—against the countertop, a side table, the arm of the couch, the dresser—as Niall carries Teyana towards their bedroom, heavy breathing mixed with the kisses they share. There’s sure to be bruises and nicks when they assess for physical damage later but it’s the last thing on Teyana’s mind and she’s sure it’s the last thing on Niall’s as he drops her onto the mattress, his eyes chasing after her as she scoots up towards the head of the bed before his brain instructs his body to do the same.

Niall moves quickly and is hovering above her in seconds, a hand at her waist while he sinks down to resume their kissing. He nudges a thigh between hers to press them closer, works his hips into a slow grind with hers, and Teyana can feel him grow hard against her thigh.

Teyana lets out a slow, long breath when his mouth finally leaves hers to press kisses to her jaw, then the side of her neck. Both of Niall’s hands are on her waist now, his hips still working mind-blowing circles into hers and the friction between them renders her momentarily speechless, even as Niall’s fingers slip beneath the waistband of her panties, pressing to the sides of her waist.

He pulls away, tugs her panties down until Teyana can work them down the rest of the way with a few furious kicks of her legs, much to Niall’s laughter-fueled delight, and Niall makes quick work of removing his own underwear before lowering himself onto her again. The weight of him makes Teyana delirious, so delirious as his lips attach to her neck again that she almost forgets he’s unprotected until she feels a familiar nudge between her thighs, near her center, and it sobers her up.

“Niall,” she breathes. His face is still buried in her neck, fist still clenched around his cock pressing up between her thighs, and her hands come up to tangle in his hair again. “Niall. Niall. Niall,” she presses, her voice urgent, and she yanks him up just enough for his lips to detach from her skin. “Baby. Condom.”

A heavy grunt into her neck follows, and Niall pulls away fully, meeting her eyes. His are glazed over, but apologetic. “Shit; sorry,” he mumbles, pushing a hand through his hair before stretching himself across the mattress until he can reach the drawer of the nightstand. “Wasn’t—fuck—wasn’t thinking.”

The momentum of the moment temporarily lost, and with Niall no longer directly above her, Teyana feels exposed now. Even with the air conditioner on the fritz, the air around them feels cooler with the distance between their bodies and it stands her nerves on end. Chewing on her bottom lip, she folds her arms across the flimsy fabric covering her chest while she waits for Niall to finish rummaging around for a condom.

When he slides above her again, he presses a short kiss to her lips before he shifts to the side, allows himself room to roll on the condom he’s pulled from its packet. He looks down into her eyes all the while, the awkwardness of the previous moment melting away the longer Teyana holds his gaze.

Then she feels him nudge her thighs apart again, feels him press to her entrance, then gradually push inside, and her eyes fall closed, mouth falling open to let out a gasp as she arches up beneath him.

Niall opts for an easy start, slow thrusts that allow her to grow accustomed to the way he fills her up. But once she gives the go-ahead, he picks up his pace, firm thrusts that work her into an otherworldly state, fingernails sunk into the skin across his back. It’s a good, thorough, passionate fuck that leaves her breathless and boneless at the finish.

Niall appears equally spent, letting out another heavy sigh as he rolls to the side of her and takes care of the condom before tugging the sheets of their unmade bed up to crawl beneath them, curling an arm around Teyana’s waist. She goes easily, laughing a quiet little laugh, pulled to Niall with his desperate hands that only seem satisfied when they’re clutching at her back, holding her against his chest. Eyes closed, she breathes him in, his scent all around her, familiar and good, good, good.

///

She doesn’t realize she’s drifted off until she wakes.

A slow blink reveals that it’s dark now; she can tell by the dimness of the room, the only light coming in from the window. It’s cooler in the room as well, she notes, and figures the air must’ve shifted back into a functioning state, wonders how long it’ll be before it decides to screw them over again. Slowly, her eyes begin to focus, and she turns her gaze towards the window

The moonlight bathes the first thing she sees: Niall, perched at the edge of the bed, his guitar, Aileen, in his lap, his legal pad propped up against the window frame. His fingers are plucking softly at the strings, so soft that Teyana can’t even hear the notes at first, but she sits up a bit, and her stirring draws Niall’s attention, a grander tug on the string as he’s startled by the movement.

“You’re up.” He smiles, though she can only make out one half of it, the half illuminated by the light of the moon.

Teyana nods, reaching up to shove a hand through messy, messy curls, and she gives him a sleepy smile in return. “Didn’t realize I was out. What time is it?”

Niall lifts his wrist to check his watch. “Nearly ten,” he replies.

Teyana nods, trying to process, and then suddenly her brain kicks into gear. “Shit. My pastry dough.”

Niall laughs as he begins to pick at the strings of his guitar again. “Yeah, suppose that’s good and wrecked now.”

With a groan, Teyana flings herself back against the mattress. “Why didn’t you wake me up so I could salvage it?”

Niall laughs again, still playing his guitar. “Lover, I just woke up about a half hour ago.” He arches a brow, one Teyana can see on his moonlit side. “Someone rendered me pretty knackered for a bit there.”

“You’re one to talk,” Teyana replies, “considering you’re the one who started it up.”

“I have no regrets.” Niall shrugs. “Ruined dough is a small price to pay for pleasure.”

Laughing, Teyana pushes herself up, clutching the sheets to her chest as she moves closer to him. Leaned against his back, she slides her arms around his waist and rests her chin atop his shoulder for a long moment. Then, she tilts her chin up to playfully nip at his ear, but is suddenly hit with a thought as her stomach gives way to a quiet rumble of dissatisfaction.

“Niall,” she says, remembering the time, “we didn’t eat.”

Niall nods. “I ordered pizza.”

“From the place down the street?” she asks, hopeful. It’s a small little pizzeria that’s open late, and it’s Teyana’s favorite.

To her great satisfaction, Niall nods again.

“When?”

“About fifteen minutes ago.”

“You’re incredible,” she sighs, pressing a succession of kisses into the curve of his neck, and Niall chuckles. “Up for half an hour and the first thing you do is order pizza.”

“Actually,” Niall says, “the first thing I did was finish my song, and then I ordered the pizza.”

“Your song...” Teyana almost forgot that's what Niall had been doing before lust got the best of them. “You finished it?”

“I mean, it’s not finished, but yeah, I did,” he replies. “Needs some finishing touches, but I’m gonna play it for the lads tomorrow, see if it takes.” There's a pause, and his next words come out unsteady. “Do you want to take a listen?”

What a silly question, Teyana thinks. Niall could put the nutrition facts on the back of a cereal box into song and she'd want to take a listen.

“Of course, my love,” is her reply, arms uncurling from around his waist, to give him the space he needs to play.

Niall lets out a slow breath, then begins, and this is her favorite thing. When Niall shares songs with her, it's a whole production, the cogs turning in his mind. He talks her through the elements—where in his mind he can hear the bass and keys come in, a chord progression, the time to be kept with Curtis’s drum kit.

He imagines a heavy, seductive bass line for this track, one he “hopes Weiss is up for,” and wonders aloud if he can talk Cricket into dusting off his saxophone skills from high school for them, to “thicken up the sound”. As he plays what he calls a “rough version” of the song, which equates more to a stripped-down, acoustic version, Teyana is mesmerized. Even acoustically, it's got a slow groove that's warm and sexy, especially with Niall's voice still low and gravelly from sleep. She can almost hear the elements he's talked about in her head—the bass, the drums, even the saxophone—and then there are the lyrics to consider, an ode to spending sunset with your lover, nothing crude but nothing shy, either, about the sentiments of lust expressed in the lyrics. Suddenly, she's eager to hear the final product, damn near tempted to call the boys herself so Niall can play it for them right now.

“Anyway, that's it,” Niall says at the finish, and he rests his palm flat against the guitar, meeting Teyana's eyes. Even in the limited light, she can make out the nervousness in his expression as he asks, “Thoughts?”

“Well, frankly, I think I want to have sex with you again,” Teyana replies.

“Teyana,” he huffs, rolling his eyes.

“No, babe, really, I love it,” she says, with a gentle laugh. She moves in close again, arms around his waist as she presses a kiss into his shoulder. “Smooth and sensual, just like you wanted.”

“It’s not too much?” he asks, and the timid nature of his tone is mind-boggling for Teyana. The contrast between who he is as a lover and a songwriter is so much to take in at times. Confident with his actions, cautious with his words. “Not even the line about—”

“Touching reckless, baby, breathless from your sunburst skin. Lips gone, gone southern—let me taste you, take you in?” Teyana questions, brow raising as she reads the lyrics straight from Niall’s legal pad, over his shoulder. Niall nods, and then she smiles, enjoying the flush in his cheeks now that she can see it up close. “I wouldn’t say it’s too much. Might just tip everyone off that you like to go down on your girlfriend, as every good boyfriend should.”

Niall chuckles, turning his head to look at her full-on. “Suppose I owe you for a missed opportunity tonight.”

“Nah, it was perfect,” Teyana replies. She reaches up to his head and ruffles his hair affectionately, surprised to find remnants of the flour from her hands still dusting the dark strands. “Though I’ll never object if you decide you’d like to make it up to me.”

Niall’s got a look in his eyes, like he just might take her up on the offer, when the doorbell rings.

“Hold that thought,” he says, before setting Aileen aside. He pulls on a pair of loose-fitting athletic shorts, then grabs up his wallet from atop the dresser and hustles towards the front door.

The pizza has arrived, and Teyana listens as Niall exchanges polite greetings with the delivery person at the door before the jingle of change passing from hand to hand seals the deal. The door gives its usual creak as it begins to close, Niall calling out a “Goodnight, and thank you!” before she hears the door shut.

He’s all smiles as he comes back into the bedroom, practically skipping, and Teyana smiles in return, happy to see him in a much better mood than when he arrived home. He tosses the box of pizza onto the mattress before hoisting himself up to join Teyana, and flips the lid of the pizza box open with a wildly-gestured flourish that makes her laugh.

Together, they eat their fill of pizza and Niall inquires about Teyana’s day and then there’s a lull that brings about a shift in the mood, telling in the eyes and the placement of hands and the way Niall moves in closer, the last few slices of pizza very quickly forgotten.

And then, with a wicked smile, Teyana lets Niall lay her down. There will be no missed opportunities tonight.

[marisa-writes]

unfinished business (a ‘work’ extra)

number five(ish)? four-and-a-half? we’ll go with the latter // blame Eliza @roselirry // read ‘work’ here first // more of Teyana & Niall here

“Niall, what is it?”

Groggy, Teyana resists the tug of Niall’s hand as he tries to pull her up from the mattress. She’s been asleep for what feels like five minutes, though it’s surely been longer since she drifted after she and Niall made love a second time, and she groans as she clutches at the sheets with desperate hands. But Niall is stronger, and seemingly determined, bringing her to her feet with ease.

“Niall,” she whines, before leaning into him, unsteady on her legs, “what time is it?”

“Midnight,” he replies. He wraps an arm around her waist to steady her, presses a kiss to her forehead.

Teyana lets out a heavy sigh. “Why are we up at midnight, Niall?”

There’s a pause. Teyana tilts her head up to search for Niall’s eyes in the dark.

“Unfinished business,” he replies.

Teyana’s brows are furrowed as she allows herself to be led out of their bedroom. Through the darkness of their apartment, Niall navigates the way with an ease that tells her he probably never slept.

“What have you been up to, sneaky?” she asks him, as they reach the kitchen.

Niall doesn’t reply. He leaves her in the doorway, treading towards the stove. As the overhead light flicks on, the kitchen is bathed in mellow light, and Teyana watches as Niall makes his way over to the counter by the sink, where, to her surprise, is everything she’d been using during her earlier attempt at satisfying her sweet tooth—the ingredients, the mixing bowl, the cutting board where she’d been kneading her dough. Everything has been cleaned and reorganized, ready for a second go.

Niall remains silent for a moment, until Teyana meets his eyes, and then he smiles. “Thought you might want to finish what you started,” he says, “before I rudely interrupted.”

“At midnight?” Teyana asks, rubbing at her left eye. “Why?”

"No missed opportunities,” he replies, shoving his hands into the pockets of his athletic shorts. “Remember?”

Teyana is tired, but she manages a laugh, a bit overwhelmed by how sweet her boyfriend is even though her bones still yearn to be sunk into their mattress. 

“You got everything?” she asks him.

Niall nods. “I checked your Pinterest boards,” he says, scratching at his jaw. “The one with the apples and almonds, right? We still had a couple apples in the fridge, so I sliced them, and the almond slivers were untouched, so...yeah. Whenever you’re ready.”

Teyana takes slow steps in Niall’s direction, and she slides her arms around him once she’s reached him, pushing up on her toes to give him a kiss. “Sweetest boyfriend in the world,” she breathes, before kissing him again. “Wow, I love you.”

“Love you, too,” he replies, chuckling as Teyana moves in for another kiss. “Now, enough of that. This is how we have unfinished business in the first place.”

“Oh, and whose fault is that?” Teyana teases, knocking a gentle fist against Niall’s jaw.

“Mine,” he admits, holding up both hands guiltily. “All mine, but I’m trying to make up for it. Now, tell me what you need me to do.”

She gives herself a moment to think, her brain slow to kick-start. “Put the coffee pot on,” she instructs. “And preheat the oven? I’ll get the dough started.”

“Yes ma’am,” Niall replies, dropping a kiss to her cheekbone before pulling back to give her a grin.

Teyana gives him an adoring look in return before she nudges him aside, moving to stand in front of the counter. Slowly, she prepares the dough while Niall clicks on the stove, then fusses with the grounds and the coffee filter and their trusty old Mr. Coffee machine. 

She mixes everything together in the silver bowl before taking a few pinches of flour and sprinkling them across the cutting board. By now, Niall’s returned to her side with a mug of coffee prepared just the way Teyana likes, and she allows herself to take a quick sip before she dusts Niall’s hands with the flour, then hers. 

Niall slides up behind her, props his chin up on her shoulder as he guides his arms beneath hers, careful not to brush his floured hands against her waist.

He presses his fingers into the dough, and Teyana’s slide in between. “Gentle,” she instructs, when he kneads a bit too roughly. She shows him, works his hands beneath hers, so he can see how to apply the right amount of pressure to make the dough pliable. “You can use the heel of your palm, too. Yeah, just like that. Perfect.”

Together, they work the dough until it’s the right consistency for the pastries, and she smiles when Niall presses another kiss to her cheek. “You’re a good teacher, Cruz,” he mumbles as his chin drops back to her shoulder.

Teyana just shrugs, biting at her bottom lip. “You’re easy to teach,” she replies.

Once the dough is ready, Niall fetches the apples he’s sliced from the refrigerator, and Teyana reaches across the counter for the cinnamon and the bag of almond slivers. She opens her mouth to ask Niall to pull up the article for the recipe on his phone, but he’s beat her to it, placing his phone upon the counter next to her work station, the page already scrolled down to the next step.

“Thank you, baby,” she coos, before leaning up to kiss his jaw, and she could roll her eyes at how syrupy-sweet they’re being but she can’t find it in her heart to be bothered. Niall pulls all of the sweetness in the world out of her on the regular, but they’re even sweeter after midnight, somehow.

Niall talks her through the instructions on how to cut and fold the dough around a layer of cinnamon-dusted apples to make the pastries, laughing as she messes up the first few, but that’s the fun of it, of making late night sweets with the love of her life. There is room for mistakes, for more flour on skin and the surface of the kitchen floor than on the cutting board, the pastry dough, where it belongs. There is room for the way Teyana’s heart swells while she watches the way Niall is so attentive as he brushes each of the folded pastries with a thin layer of egg wash before she moves in to sprinkle a pinch of almond slivers on top. 

As Niall slides the tray of pastries into the oven and sets the timer, Teyana pulls herself up to sit on the countertop, amongst the stray flour and spare ingredients she’s yet to clean up. There is still tidying to be done, but her coffee is set to go cold soon and she’d like to finish it before it does. Cleaning can wait.

Both hands cradled around her mug, she watches Niall as he watches her take a long, slow sip. Their eyes stay locked for what feels like eternity. Teyana doesn’t mind.

“So you’re not upset, are you? That I woke you up?” He reaches up towards the back of his head, scratches at the nape of his neck as his eyes fall from hers to the floor. “I know it’s late, but I was watching you sleep, and I just...wanted to spend a little time.”

Teyana shakes her head when she has his eyes again. She’s not upset—well, maybe she was, when he first pulled her out of bed. But not now. How terribly foolish, to be upset with a man who wakes you up at midnight to make pastries with you because he wants to spend a little time.

It’s the stuff of real romances—not the shit from the Hollywood pictures, or the multitude of Harlequin books, or...maybe it is. Maybe it’s exactly that. Inspiration for those novels, those films, has to come from somewhere, and maybe romance with Niall is like cinema, like fiction, but it’s her reality, and as Niall shuffles around her, beginning the clean-up process, she pulls one hand from her mug and places it atop his.

“Hey. C’mere.”

Niall looks back at her with curious eyes and moves closer, until she reaches up to take hold of his jaw. 

“Thank you for this,” she says, leaning forward to press a kiss to his chin, the corner of his mouth, his lips. “For thinking of me. For waking me up.”

Niall sighs against her mouth just as the oven timer dings.

“Anytime, petal,” he replies.

[marisa-writes]

who are you here for (who is here for you?)

Number three. I can’t be stopped. Find more of Teyana and Niall here.

“So who are you here for—the bride or the groom?”

Teyana turns her head to greet the inquirer, a middle-aged woman wearing a lovely floral print dress, and smiles.

“Neither,” she replies, picking up the drink in her hand and giving the glass a swirl before bringing it to her lips. When the woman raises a brow in confusion, Teyana swallows and lowers the glass before motioning towards the stage, her smile growing wider as she clarifies, “My boyfriend’s in the band.”

“Ah,” the woman says, sliding into the chair beside Teyana’s. Teyana studies her as she watches the band for a while, Rookie Limelight well into their set at the wedding reception, a good crowd of people moving to the music on the patio area that’s been turned into an outdoor dance floor. The woman’s eyes seem to flit from member to member until they finally return to meet Teyana’s, and she gives a nod that seems like silent approval. “They’re really good,” she says, confirming Teyana’s thoughts. “I was surprised to see that a live band was lined up for the reception; they come few and far between these days, with most opting for a DJ instead. Which one is your boyfriend?”

Teyana pulls her gaze away to take in the stage again, twinkle lights hung everywhere beneath the canopy of a setting sun, Niall crooning into the microphone, his fingers strumming at guitar strings as they move into the chorus of their cover of King Harvest’s “Dancing in the Moonlight”. It’s in this very same moment that he happens to look up from the crowd, eyes somehow finding hers with ease even with a whole dance floor full of people between them. A small grin curls his lips as he sings, and he holds her gaze, his gorgeous and mesmerizing and one hell of a pair of blues.

Before Teyana can point him out, the woman chimes, “Wait, let me guess—the one with the sweet eyes who’s looking at you like you hung the moon.”

Teyana laughs, a bubbly, schoolgirl-with-a-crush laugh, and plans to blame the color she knows is seeping into her cheeks on the summer heat if she’s asked. “Yeah. That’s him.”

“His name?” 

“Niall.” 

The woman quirks a brow. “Interesting name.”

Teyana nods. “It’s Irish.”

“And what’s yours?”

“Teyana.” She takes the woman’s hand as it’s extended to her, and enjoys the kind crinkle around the eyes nearly hidden by thick, graying bangs.

“Nice to meet you, Teyana,” she says, as their handshake ends. “I’m Delores.”

Delores turns out to be welcomed company, Teyana learns, as the two of them spend a while talking. She’s sixty-one and the godmother of the bride, the bride’s mother and her going back at least forty some-odd years. Teyana is awed and inspired to hear of a friendship that has lasted so long, and she enjoys the stories Delores tells, of herself and her friend Anne, the bride’s mother, as well as the bride herself, Eloise. Delores inquires about Teyana, too—about Niall, and her studies, and her life in California. 

There’s a sharp pang in Teyana’s chest the longer they talk, something about Delores’s sweet nature that reminds Teyana of what she’s always wished she’d had with her mother before she left them, and when Delores is called to make a speech before the bouquet toss, she blanches at the loss of company as Delores pats her hand gently before excusing herself with a “Hang on, sweetheart, I’ll be right back.”

Teyana offers her a weak smile as she goes, watching Delores’s back turn while fiddling with the wispy fabric of her dress in her lap. Lost inside her thoughts, she forgets that with speech-giving comes a break for the band, so she’s startled when a pair of hands come to rest on her shoulders, a peck on the cheek following. 

Niall slides into the chair beside her and Teyana turns her head to look at him. She’s not surprised to see the way his eyebrows instantly furrow, his easy smile fading from his lips. 

“Saw you made a friend,” he comments, nodding briefly towards Delores, who is standing in front of the stage, microphone in hand while recounting one of the stories about Eloise that she’s just shared with Teyana.  

Teyana nods. “Delores,” she says, trying to be in the moment with him, but her tone and her eyes betray her. “She’s very nice.” 

Niall’s drawn-together brows pull inward even further. “All right, petal,” he says, turning in the chair until his knees bump against her thigh. He slides a hand into her lap, beneath her palm, working her fingers out of their tight grip on the fabric of her dress. “What’s that look for?” 

Teyana shrugs at first, annoyed with herself, with the fact that a woman who left her and her father behind when she was seven years old—a woman she hasn’t seen or heard from since—still has so much power over her emotions. But Niall, ever in tune with her, waits patiently, worried eyes trained on her until she’s ready to speak. 

“Just been thinking about my mom,” she sighs. 

Niall inches closer, reaching for the unaccompanied hand in her lap so that now he’s got a hold of both. He’s quiet for a long moment, and Teyana appreciates his careful tone when he asks, “What about her?”

He shows interest without pressing. Teyana knows that he knows this is not an easy subject for her. Niall’s parents are divorced but they’ve both been present in his life, and it’s different for him, but he’s closer to understanding than most.

Teyana sighs again, feeling tears well in her eyes that make her even further annoyed with herself—the whole idea of it, of letting her abandonment issues get the best of her at a public event she’s pretty much crashing—and she gives Niall’s hands a tight squeeze. “When it’s my turn, when this…when this is what I want for myself—” 

“A wedding?” Niall asks, cocking his head to the side.

Teyana nods, but turns away; she can’t look at him right now. “She won’t be here. Just like she hasn’t been for anything important. Birthdays, graduations, my moving across the fucking country to go to school. And it’s fine because Papi has been here, will be here, and he’s my everything, but…sometimes, I’m just so furious. You know? I look at this night, at this happy bride who is standing there smiling at her mother and I feel like…like I was cheated out of something. Like someone thought I didn’t deserve it.”

Niall tugs one of Teyana’s hands up from her lap, pulls it towards his lips, and kisses her knuckles. It’s comforting, his lips pressed to her skin, but she still can’t look at him.

“It’s like she fucking died, Niall,” Teyana says, but it comes out soft, her throat feeling like it might close up. “But she didn’t. She didn’t die. She just left.”

The air around them feels heavier now, and Teyana wants to punch herself, bringing the mood down like this. It’s a lovely evening, the sunset burning the sky orange and pink although that’s faded now, to a sharp purple that will give way to dark blue, then black, and hopefully some stars.

“I don’t know what to say,” Niall says, after a long beat of silence. “I don’t think…I don’t think there’s anything I can say, y’know? Like—there’s no right words to make you feel better. But will you look at me?” 

Teyana squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, during which Niall lets go of her hand to cup her cheek, and then she leans into his palm, eyes fluttering open slowly to meet his gaze. 

“You deserve everything,” he says, and the conviction in both his voice and his eyes is enough to make Teyana’s heart thump wildly in her chest. “Don’t you ever think for a second that you don’t. But your mother didn’t deserve you.” 

Teyana looks at him, eyes glassy now, and tries to give him a smile. She knows he’s right. Even in a single parent home, she won the lottery, her Papi the best example of parenting she could’ve ever had. Their home was a bit broken when her mother left but her Papi tried his damnedest to make everything all right even amid his own heartbreak, the summer after her mother’s departure filled with late night dance parties in the living room to Papi’s massive CD collection and platefuls of plátanos maduros to fill her stomach since there wasn’t any real way to fill the hole in her heart. And in every year since, he’s moved mountains for her, encouraged her, loved her unconditionally. He raised her to be confident and kind and brave, or she wouldn’t have felt independent enough to travel all the way from New York to California without him. She didn’t need a mother when she had her Papi. She knew that, and she knew it wholeheartedly.

But sometimes, on nights like this one, her feelings get the best of her, and she wishes that things had been different. That in an alternate universe, her parents had worked out, that her father hadn’t been so doe-eyed and her mother hadn’t been so selfish. That when Niall finally asks her to marry him—it won’t be for a while, but Teyana knows it’s him, knows he’s the one who’ll be smiling at her when she reaches the end of that aisle—she’ll have a mother to offer her support and love at a time when she’ll need it the most.

“Sorry to ruin the vibe of the evening,” Teyana sighs, a sad laugh following, her finger working themselves into twists of fabric again in her lap. If she keeps this up, her dress—a favorite—will be ruined.  

Niall scoffs. “Fuck, petal, c’mere,” he huffs, pulling Teyana close until he can press a kiss to her temple. His lips linger long after, and together they soak in the solitude, the lights and sounds of the evening around them fading to a soft haze as Teyana watches Eloise toss her bouquet into a loud crowd of women and a couple of men, and her groom, Jonas, as he prepares to take care of the gentleman’s toss of the garter.  

“You feel what you feel when you feel it,” Niall finally says, pulling Teyana back into the moment with him. The slow breeze that’s come with the close of sunset envelops them, Niall’s voice soft in her ear. “You’re human. Perfectly so. Never apologize for that.” 

Teyana nods, trying to let his words sink in.  

“Meant to tell you that you look beautiful tonight, by the way,” he says next, lips still ghosting her temple. “Jesus Christ, Teyana Cruz, what you do to a dress.” 

“Stop,” Teyana fusses, blushing, and pulls away from his hand. She turns in her chair to face him, their knees knocking together now, and reaches for the gauzy material of the striped button-up he’s tucked carefully into a pair of belted black slacks. “You clean up nicely yourself, Mr. Horan.” 

“Please,” he snorts, shifting a hand through his hair to push it back, a few strands determined to cling to his forehead in the summer heat. “You’re full of it; look at this.” He lifts his left arm, showing her the damp patch spread over the fabric covering his underarm. “Sweating me arse off in this. The last time I let you talk me into wearing long sleeves to an outdoor wedding in the middle of summer.” 

“You look very handsome,” Teyana coos, chuckling as she adjusts the short collar of his shirt.

“I’m very sweaty,” Niall counters, quirking a brow.

Teyana just shrugs, smoothing her hands over his chest. “But a very handsome sort of sweaty.”

Niall laughs now, reaching up to take her face in his hands. “You’re impossible,” he muses, before pressing his lips to hers. 

Hands still placed against his chest, Teyana feels everything for him in that moment, in the craft of his kiss, his lips soft and warm against hers. He’s pulled her in close for their kiss and she pulls the love that flows from the press of his mouth to hers into the cavern of her chest and it fills her up, pushes away the pain that’s had her wringing her hands in her dress back into its dormant space, where it’ll stay until she decides to wrestle with it again.

But not now. Not now, when the man she loves has reminded her, is reminding her, that she deserves—and he gives her—everything. That her Papi and that little place back in Brooklyn, and Niall and Frito and their tiny apartment in Los Angeles are all the home and all the love and all the family she’ll ever really need, even when her mind (and that occasional lump in her throat that accompanies her thoughts) tries to convince her otherwise.

“I hate to come between lovers,” a voice breaks into the moment, causing Niall to pull back, “but we’re on in three, Horan.” 

Teyana notes the reluctance in Niall’s eyes before they both turn to find Curtis Jenkins, Rookie Limelight’s drummer extraordinaire, waiting patiently. Curtis smooths a hand over his short-cropped fade and gives Teyana a friendly smile before turning back to Niall. “Finish kissing your girl and meet us on the stage in a few?” 

“Got it, captain,” Niall replies, giving him a salute that is so stupid but it makes Teyana laugh anyway, and she continues to laugh into their next kiss after Curtis rolls his eyes at them both, a smile playing at his lips before he walks away. 

“Gotta go,” Niall says softly when he finally pulls back, and then he pecks her lips gently a final time. “Wish I could spare you a dance, but…we’re kind of responsible for the music. So. Duty calls.”

“And rent’s due in a week,” Teyana reminds him.

“Shit, you’re right,” he replies, his nose scrunching up in the most adorable way. “Best to not fuck this up, then.”

“You guys? Fuck this up?” Teyana arches a brow. “In what universe?”

Niall pushes up from the chair, then leans down to press a kiss to Teyana’s forehead. “Appreciate your confidence, lover,” he replies, “but you didn’t see us in our early, nameless days. Fucking trainwreck, the lot of us.” 

Teyana laughs, a hearty laugh, one that billows her lungs like sails and puts stars in Niall’s eyes. 

“Knock ‘em dead,” she says to him, and he grins that beguiling, knock-her-dead grin of his before hustling towards the stage.

Once he’s jogged up the steps to take his place amongst his bandmates, Teyana watches as Niall picks up his guitar, slipping the strap over his head before reaching to readjust his microphone. He reintroduces the band before signaling Curtis to count them in, a few drum beats before they break into another stream of cover songs for the rest of the night. 

Teyana rotates in her chair to face forward again and smiles as she watches him play, slipping into the swaggering, confident stage persona he adopts the second the bassline kicks in. She knows this isn’t his or his bandmates’ dream—playing covers at wedding receptions to a crowd ranging from two-and-a-half to eighty-three instead of their own original music to a hip crowd of people at some venue akin to the Troubadour—but it helps to pay the bills, helps Rookie Limelight gain momentum, and allows her to watch Niall in his element. It’s incredible to her, how he doesn’t realize that anytime he’s onstage with a guitar in his hands, he’s in his element, and the crowd could be filled with twenty-somethings or gentlemen in their sixties and he’d still play like it was the most important show of his life. 

He gives every performance his all. It’s one of the things she loves most about him.  

Along with Niall, the night’s begun to entrance her, the pretty lights hung overhead and the darkened sky and the glow of a warm summer night kissing her skin. She’s grateful that she decided to wear her hair up today to keep herself cool, curls pinned in some form of an up-do she tried to recreate from a YouTube tutorial. The freedom of having her neck bare is satisfying, as are thoughts of the kisses that Niall will likely blanket the column of her neck with once they’re alone, the evening drawn to a close.  

Those thoughts entrance her a little further, fingers sliding up to trace along the curve of her neck, and it takes her a moment to realize that company has joined her once again.

“Didn’t want to interrupt,” Delores says, dropping into the chair she’d originally occupied before Niall slid in to fill her place. “Looked like the two of you were having a moment, so I kept my distance for a while.”

“Oh,” Teyana says, tossing Delores a sideways glance before taking in Niall again. He’s got his eyes on her, that grin of his tugging up the corners of his mouth, pulling a brightness into his voice as he sings. It makes Teyana smile, too, albeit softly. “Thank you.” 

“Are you all right?” she asks, reaching over to pat Teyana’s hand. “You looked a little upset.” 

Teyana shrugs her shoulders before turning to give Delores her full attention. There’s such genuine concern in the woman’s eyes that it nearly knocks the wind out of Teyana, but she’s not going to go there. She’s not going to get into her issues with a perfect stranger and bring the night crashing down around her again.  

“Nah, just…feeling some stuff,” she replies, making a sweeping motion with her hand and hoping she sounds convincing despite her vague response. “It’s just…you know. Weddings.” 

“Ah.” Delores pats her hand again. “Caught up in the moment.” 

Teyana nods. “Yeah, something like that.”

There’s a long pause, the murmured sounds of distant conversation mixed with sounds of the band filling the air and Teyana’s ears, and she stares off into space until her vision blurs. Then, Delores catches her eye, and when her gaze comes back into focus, she finds her with a smile on her face and a question in her eyes. Teyana decides to take the bait, raising a brow.  

“So, are you ready for this, then?” Delores asks, her turn to wave about the decorated space around them. “You and your Niall?”

At this, Teyana laughs gently and shakes her head. “I’m only twenty-three,” she replies. “I’m in no—there’s no rush.” She and Niall are barely into their twenties, his band is trying to make something of themselves, and Teyana is set to graduate from her master’s program in the fall. There’s still so much time ahead of them, and so much space to love and grow in together and she’s being honest when she says there’s no hurry, that living with Niall and loving with Niall and being with Niall the way they are right now is enough for them.

“But you love him?”

Teyana nods without hesitation. “Yes.”

“And he loves you?” 

Teyana looks up towards the stage, at Niall, who is grinning like crazy at the woman breaking it down on the dance floor like she’s in her teenage years instead of her late seventies—the woman Teyana’s learned is Eloise’s grandmother. He’s trying to hide the laughter in his voice as he sings, but when his eyes drift and find Teyana’s again, the amusement sparkling in them hard to miss. Then it softens—his gaze—to something more personal, a look reserved for Teyana, and she drops her gaze when his gets to be too much, bottom lip tugged between her teeth as she fights back the smile threatening to overtake her whole face.

“Forget I asked,” Delores says, and Teyana can tell from her tone that she’s observed the exchange between her and Niall. “Forgive an old lady for her wording, but that boy is completely sprung.”

The laughter that bursts from Teyana’s mouth is loud and unbridled. She’s clutching her stomach at the finish, and then she tries to nod her head, Delores’s turn of phrase having made her laugh so hard her eyes are watering, but the truth in the words is there.

“Yes,” Teyana breathes, once she’s recovered. She chances another look at Niall. “Yes, he loves me.”

“Then, honey,” Delores says, giving her hand another gentle pat, “frankly, that’s all you need.”

[marisa-writes]

Teyana & Niall (4/?) // read ‘sangria on your lips’ + drabbles here

[marisa-writes]

we’re so late nights

a drabble partially derived from this line of questioning, so @roselirry, this is basically your fault // find more of Teyana and Niall here

It’s probably half past midnight; Teyana can’t remember when she last checked the time, the warmth still in her bones from the beers she consumed earlier in the evening with Niall and the rest of Rookie Limelight leaving her feeling mellow and content.

Niall is most responsible for the latter.

Seated in one of the folding chairs on their patio, he’s pulled her into his lap, home at last after an evening out. After the show, Niall, his bandmates, and a couple of their friends met up at a bar near the venue and talked for at least an hour and a half over many pints, Teyana tucked comfortably against Niall’s side, laughing and smiling and talking like the rest of them with his arm around her. When everyone began to thin out, Niall and Teyana said their goodbyes and then they took a cab home.

In the backseat, with his hands on her waist, Niall had whispered to Teyana that it was probably best that he wasn’t driving, because she looked so good he wouldn’t have been able to keep his eyes on the road. The line was cheesy, making Teyana roll her eyes and she playfully shoved him over, which in turn made him laugh that stupidly adorable laugh he has, more of a cackle than a straight-up laugh, before moving close again.

“Stupid,” Teyana breathed, as he slid his fingers delicately beneath her chin. She’d tried to give him an unimpressed look, but the way the street lights danced across his features through the back window of the cab made Teyana reconsider Niall’s line. Soft hair, loose and unstyled tonight, cheeks a bit red from the pints, in need of a good shave but eyes cool and focused—yeah, it was probably a good idea that Teyana wasn’t driving, either, or she might’ve had to pull the car over.

In response to her one-word statement, Niall had only grinned at her, eyes bright as they stared into hers before he pulled her in for the kiss she knew she wasn’t going to fight the moment his hand cupped her chin. “But you love me,” he’d whispered back, a breath of space between their mouths, before he let their lips touch.

She really did, she thought, as he kissed her, Guinness on his tongue and the heady scent of his cologne overwhelming her senses. Oh, God, she did.

When they arrived home, they both took off the day’s clothes and then Teyana snaked an arm around Niall’s waist, the other sliding up his back to the back of his neck, pulling him down until their lips met. It was admirable, the way Niall tried to convince Teyana to stop kissing him so he could shower, but when she whispered, “I could just join you,” she could see all the willpower leave Niall’s eyes, pupils widening as he groaned before pulling her inside with him.

Now on their patio, freshly showered and dressed for when they’ll eventually crawl into bed, they’re seated even closer than they were in the cab, Teyana sideways in Niall’s lap with her head resting against his shoulder. Niall’s got an arm wrapped around her waist, fingers stretched across her lap to play with the loose hemline of the sleep shorts Teyana desperately needs to trash but will probably hang onto until they’re shreds. Niall makes fun of her for them, but they’re comfortable, and frayed hemline or not, she’ll most likely wear them until they’re completely threadbare in the thighs. Habit.

Teyana closes her eyes for a moment and snuggles a bit closer in Niall’s lap. She feels him sigh beneath her, chest rising against her side before tilting his head to rest atop hers. Everything else is quiet, aside from the sound of insects making their nighttime ruckus. Teyana feels Niall’s fingers move from the hem of her shorts to nudge at her hands, until she lifts them and lets him lace their fingers together and now she sighs, too.

Then, Niall gives her hands a gentle squeeze. “Hey, Tey, look.”

When she opens her eyes, they drift to the corner of the patio as she spies movement, a flash of yellow-orange. It’s dark, the illumination cast by the patio light dim at best, but when the flash of citrine creeps into view, four-legged, pointy-eared, and fluffy-tailed, Teyana smiles, but then her brows furrow in confusion. It’s Frito, the stray tabby cat both she and Niall have taken a bit of a liking to in the time since he entered their lives. He started showing up several months ago, a pleasure for Teyana but a nuisance in Niall’s eyes until Teyana caught him sneaking treats into the cart at the store and eventually sneaking Frito himself into the house for nap times on the couch while she was away.

His visit now is certainly not unwelcome, as he tends to come and go as he pleases, but never this late at night. Teyana feels a fierce maternal instinct brew inside of her, little Frito the closest thing she’ll have to a child for many years if he sticks around, as she’s definitely in no rush to hear the pitter-patter of little human feet, and neither is Niall.

As if he can read her mind, Niall calls out to the cat, “Oi, mate. A bit late for an appearance, yeah?”

That works the knot out of Teyana’s brows quite nicely, and she snaps her fingers at Frito and beckons him closer. “Ven, Frito,” she calls softly, watching as he slinks across the pavement towards Niall’s feet, not a single ounce of hesitance in his limbs, and when he takes a seat and bumps his head against Niall’s shin before looking up at them again, Teyana pats her lap. “C’mon, Fritito. Come on up.”

Both Teyana and Niall laugh at the wind-up as Frito prepares for the leap—the wiggle of his little hips before he jumps into Teyana’s lap in a single bound. He lets out a meow, soft in volume but low in tone, when her fingers curl beneath his chin to scratch him there, Niall’s hand already working thick fingers into the scruff of his neck.

“I’m glad he’s not skin and bones anymore,” Teyana says softly, fingers moving up to scratch him behind his left ear, Niall’s fingers halfway down his little spine now. There was a time when Frito seemed to be all spine, hardly any meat on his bones. He was scrawny and clearly underfed, which made Teyana latch onto him instantly.

Niall hadn’t been as easily swayed, rolling his eyes as she suggested calling him ‘Frito’ after his fourth or fifth visit, his golden fur calling to mind the corn chips she used to buy from the corner store with her friends after school when she was young. But after a couple months of Teyana nursing him back to a healthy weight, Niall seemed to soften, and Teyana would wake on the occasional mornings that Niall beat her to sunrise and find the dishes she left out for Frito filled with food and water before she got to them, Niall seated on the patio with his cup of tea in one hand and the folded pages of the Los Angeles Times in the other, as if he’d had nothing to do with it.

He doesn’t hide his affections for the cat as frequently anymore, ever since she discovered the two of them curled up on the couch one afternoon after she returned from a shift at the bookstore. She’d snapped a picture of them together before dropping to her knees beside the couch to coax Niall awake, chuckling at the way his eyes widened when he realized he’d been caught. It wasn’t the first time, he’d confessed, blue eyes filled with guilt as he curled an arm protectively around Frito, as if Teyana would be upset enough to kick him out.

But Teyana hadn’t minded. She doesn’t mind now, when she gets a feeling about this moment, like they might not go inside without him as Frito arches his back when Niall’s fingers get to that good spot just in front of his tail, and if there’s anything to say from history, Niall won’t mind, either. Frito is purring now, a nice, low rumble that makes him vibrate in Teyana’s lap and she laughs at the way his eyes close before scratching him beneath his chin again.

“He’s got magic hands, huh, friend?” she whispers to Frito, to which Frito’s response is to arch his back up into Niall’s touch even more, a sound that Teyana can only describe as a cross between a vibration and a coo following. She smiles to herself, thinking about her own reactions to Niall’s touch. Incredible, the way she can identify with a cat.

Niall laughs softly in her ear before he kisses her just beneath her earlobe. “Hush, you.”

“Only sharing truths with my man Frito here,” Teyana replies.

Niall laughs again, soft and gentle, pulling his hand away as Frito repositions himself to curl up in Teyana’s lap. Everything goes quiet again, save for the sound of Frito vibrating away in Teyana’s lap, his purring incessant, happy.

He’s happy here. He’s happy with them.

And again, as if he can read her mind, Niall speaks quietly into her ear. “I know he’s ours,” he says, his hand stroking the top of Frito’s head. “I mean, he’s not ours, but he’s—I’m kind of fond of him.”

Teyana turns her head to give him a look. “I hadn’t noticed,” she replies, sarcasm dripping from her lips.

“Hush, you,” Niall repeats, chuckling before leaning in to press a short kiss to her lips. When he pulls back, his tired eyes drop to her lap, to Frito, who’s done a bit of a roll and tuck now, twisted so that his chin is pointed upward, practically begging for more scratches. “He’s grown on me a bit, I’ll admit. And I just...babe, I feel like he’s ours. So why don’t we...”

He doesn’t need to finish the sentence; Teyana knows what he’s suggesting. She’s been waiting for this since the first time she’d realized he was secretly sharing her morning feeding duties with her.

“Tomorrow?” she returns. “Tomorrow, let’s look into it.”

Niall lets out a sigh of satisfaction and nods. “Tomorrow,” he repeats.

Teyana and Niall and Frito sit outside beneath the darkened sky for a few more minutes, before Niall taps his fingers against Teyana’s thigh and suggests they head inside. Frito begins to stir, hopping down from Teyana’s lap and prancing towards the sliding patio door, taking a seat and glancing up at the handle of the door expectantly.

When he looks at Niall, then the handle, then Niall again and lets out his warm, low, throaty meow, Teyana laughs.

“Look what you’ve started,” she says, motioning towards the cat.

Niall just shrugs unapologetically and reaches for the handle, sliding the door open. Frito jets inside before either of them can enter, a yellow-orange streak headed for the couch, and Teyana laughs again.

With the grace that only a cat can possess, Frito leaps up onto the back of the couch, but one look at Niall as he watches him is enough to know that he won’t stay there for the night, that Niall will snap his fingers for Frito to follow them to their bedroom, where he’ll curl up at their feet for the remainder of the night.

But Teyana doesn’t mind. In the morning, they’ll wake to find Frito curled between them and have breakfast in the kitchen, make a few calls and a trip to the vet, then Target for essentials and soon Frito will be theirs, and Niall will be well on his way to becoming the cat dad she thinks he’s always been meant to be.

[marisa-writes]

Niall is not the first boy she's had in this bed—that was Tony Morelli when she was seventeen, and if her Papi found out even now that she was sneaking boys into her bed back then, she can imagine with perfect clarity what his reaction would be. She’s grown now, though, so there’s no need for sneaking and Niall is a welcomed guest in her bed in her childhood home when he comes with her to visit, but he is certainly not the first. 

Niall is, however, the one who's meant the most to her. Tony Morelli was a sloppy, sad, teenage mistake, the kind you make when you're seventeen and think it's what you want because in your naïve mind, you've got the world all figured out, only to realize not even a year later that you were wrong. But Niall Horan? Niall is the one with whom you figure out the world together. Niall is the chance you take at nineteen that works out with such surprising certainty by twenty that you never question the choice at twenty-one, or twenty-two, and by twenty-three, you just know. 

Niall is worth unpacking boxes for. He’s warm hands and soft glances and sweet kisses and kind gestures. He makes her heart race. He challenges her, rattles her past skin deep; she can feel him in her bones. He pulls laughter from the deepest parts of her soul. She is invested.

He is a permanent fixture.

brooklyn saw me // a companion to sangria on your lips // in the works

[marisa-writes]

upper hand

I blame this entirely on prompt #75. Okay, and my mind. Find more of Teyana and Niall here.

“Jesus,” Niall, chest heaving, mutters into the curve of Teyana’s neck, which makes her laugh. “That was…”

“Incredible,” Teyana finishes for him, which earns her a nod from Niall. Nestled beneath him in their bed, she is pleasantly numb, or at least tingly, her hand curled around the back of his neck, fingers gliding up into his hair as he kisses her neck, once, twice, three times. Again and again, he kisses her there, overwhelms her until the feeling of him all around her, inside her, is clouding the rest of her senses.

“A good word,” Niall says, nuzzling his nose into her skin before moving his lips to her cheek, then her lips, giving her a long, lingering kiss that has Teyana panting for her breath harder than she already was before he kissed her. His hands are still on her waist, fingertips pressed into her skin, but he pulls one away and angles his arm to reach behind him for the sheets that are stifling them now, trapping in the heat created from the gentle bump and grind of their hips during lazy Sunday afternoon sex.

Niall grips and tugs the sheets loose, giving himself enough room to slide out of Teyana and roll over onto his back to lie at her side. Teyana whines at the loss of contact, following, fingers curling around his bicep and pulling herself close until she can press a series of kisses to the center of his chest.

“Tey,” Niall laughs, his hands coming up to thread fingers in her hair, smoothing it back out of her face. It’s a tender warning that Teyana ignores, but when Teyana’s hand presses to his upper thigh and begins to slide inward, he cries out, “Hey—hey! Easy, yeah? Can you gimme a—fuck—I’m not ready to be riled up again just yet.”

He’s taken hold of her face now, pulls her up until their eyes meet. She takes in the pained expression on his face: the hard set of his jaw; his brows furrowed; his mouth half open. She can feel the way his chest is rising and falling at an uneven rhythm as he still struggles to catch his breath.

As his eyes soften, Teyana sighs, nods, and when Niall pulls his hands away, she lets her chin drop to rest in the middle of his chest.

“Sorry,” she mumbles.

“Sorry? For what?” Niall reaches a hand towards her face again, brushing away a few wayward curls that have fallen into her face, and she’s grateful; damned things, trying to obscure her view of his pretty blue eyes. “For wanting me? No, no. Love it. Love that. Love this. Never, ever, ever apologize. I just…need a minute, before we can…you know. Can’t turn it on like that, like you.”

Somewhat offended, Teyana’s brows furrow now. “I cannot just turn it on like—”

“Faster than me,” Niall interjects, and when she continues to give him the same look, he thumbs at her pouted lip. “Oi, fuck, Teyana, don’t give me that look. Didn’t mean anything by it. Just meant I need a little more time than you do to prepare for another round, and I…I want another round, when I can…y’know, give you the best of me.”

Teyana softens a bit at his words, feels the tension in her shoulders dissipate. Pursing her lips, she kisses the pad of his thumb, and Niall smiles at her.

In moments, Niall’s hands find her waist and pull her up until they’re aligned, and he kisses her, long and slow. One hand that he has on her waist slides inward, fingers gliding up the length of her spine to rest between her shoulder blades, and Niall sighs into their kiss, making her sigh, too.

Teyana pulls back after a while, letting Niall sweetly kiss her chin, and the smile that curls her lips could practically split her face in half. Her eyelids flutter closed, and she tries to catalog this moment in her mind, one of thousands she’s been collecting since the day she and Niall met. The feeling of his hands on her body, his lips on her face, the thunderous beating of her heart in her chest. And then, a faint rumble in her belly.

“One hell of a girl, you,” Niall breathes, pressing another tender kiss to her chin, then the corner of her mouth, and then Teyana turns her face until their mouths meet, a subdued smile on her face now even as her lips brush against his. She playfully tugs his bottom lip between her teeth, making Niall chuckle before he pulls himself free and presses a series of short kisses to her mouth.

“Love you,” he sighs.

“Yeah?” Teyana asks, a craving settling in as her stomach rumbles softly again. “How much?”

Niall pulls back, craning his neck as he stares at her quizzically, but he takes the bait. “All right, Cruz. What’s your wager?”

“Grilled cheese,” Teyana says, smiling when Niall’s expression shifts to one of confusion. “You said you needed a break before round two, and I’m suddenly starving, so get your beautiful but unbelievably pale ass in the kitchen and make one for me.”

Niall laughs, loud and almost comical. “Come for me and my pale ass, have ya?” There is still some laughter remaining in his voice as he adds, “Didn’t seem to have a problem with me ass when your hands were on it earlier, but…”

“Grilled cheese,” Teyana redirects him. “Please.”

Niall sighs, and Teyana’s lips curl into a satisfied smile when she can see in his eyes that she’s won him over, and rather easily, in fact.

“Havarti or cheddar?” he asks.

“Surprise me,” she replies. She laughs when Niall rolls his eyes as he slowly slides from beneath her, leaving her alone to spread out in all the available space of their queen-sized mattress. She curls her arms around Niall’s pillow instead and turns her head to look up at him over her shoulder.

At the edge of the bed, Niall stands with his eyes on her, one hand pressed to his abdomen while the other reaches up to shake fingers through his already messy hair. He leans over, chuckling, and presses a kiss to her forehead before turning to exit their bedroom.

“Got me a negotiator for a girlfriend,” he mumbles as he goes.

Teyana collapses against the mattress, erupting into a triumphant fit of giggles. The room grows quiet in his absence as her laughter subsides, and she smiles to herself as she gives the pillow still in her grasp a tight squeeze, thinking of Niall’s fit form and how good she plans to wreck him again after she’s quelled the rumbling in her stomach.

“You comin’?”

Teyana’s eyes widen and she quickly sits up, surprised to find Niall still standing in the doorway, back turned to her, looking over his shoulder. The vantage point she has gives her a perfect view of that pale ass of his, along with the definition of his back, and when her eyes travel up to his face, she finds his mouth painted in a smirk.

“Do you need me?” Teyana asks, clutching the bedding to her chest.

There’s a sparkle in Niall’s eyes and his smirk grows a bit more lopsided as he says, “Could use a distraction while I’m waiting for the proper time to flip.”

Seeing through his ploy, Teyana rolls her eyes before leaning over the side of the bed, fingers fumbling for Niall’s discarded clothes. She tosses his boxer briefs in his direction and he catches them with ease and bends over to tug them on, but he freezes as she sits up and lets the sheets drop, his t-shirt wadded in her hand as she purposefully stretches her arms above her head.

She watches the Adam’s apple in Niall’s throat bob as he swallows hard, his ocean eyes sweeping from her face down the length of her torso. With one foot tangled in his underwear and his focus no longer on the task, he loses his balance and promptly trips himself up, nearly face-planting in the doorway. He cries out as he makes a quick recovery, then curses softly as she obstructs his view, pulling his t-shirt over her head.

Teyana grins as she pulls the covers back and slides out of the bed to join a now very flustered Niall in the doorway. He meets her eyes with a hardened stare but she rises on her toes to press a kiss to his lips to pacify him, and he melts with ease.

As he links his fingers with hers and tugs her towards the kitchen, Teyana smiles, her thumb stroking against the back of his hand.

Two times she’s gotten the best of Niall in one afternoon, she thinks. Sometimes it’s nice to have the upper hand.

[marisa-writes]

Teyana & Niall (3/?) // read ‘sangria on your lips’ + drabbles here