Back at Winterfell, they had eaten in the Great Hall almost half the time. Her father used to say that a lord needed to eat with his men, if he hoped to keep them. “Know the men who follow you,” she heard him tell Robb once, “and let them know you. Don’t ask your men to die for a stranger.” At Winterfell, he always had an extra seat set at his own table, and every day a different man would be asked to join him. One night it would be Vayon Poole, and the talk would be coppers and bread stores and servants. The next time it would be Mikken, and her father would listen to him go on about armor and swords and how hot a forge should be and the best way to temper steel. Another day it might be Hullen with his endless horse talk, or Septon Chayle from the library, or Jory, or Ser Rodrik, or even Old Nan with her stories.
Arya had loved nothing better than to sit at her father’s table and listen to them talk. She had loved listening to the men on the benches too; to freeriders tough as leather, courtly knights and bold young squires, grizzled old men-at-arms. She used to throw snowballs at them and help them steal pies from the kitchen. Their wives gave her scones and she invented names for their babies and played monsters-and-maidens and hide-the-treasure and come-into-my-castle with their children. Fat Tom used to call her “Arya Underfoot,” because he said that was where she always was. She’d liked that a lot better than “Arya Horseface.” (AGOT)
arya underfoot is one of the most important names for arya. she goes through numerous personas and identities but this is one of the first. and unlike most of the others it doesn’t chip away at arya’s sense of self. arya underfoot embraces arya’s true identity. it was given to arya by the smallfolk of winterfell, specifically her father’s men, but even jon and theon think of her as such. they gave her this nickname because she was always so close to them, literally underfoot. she would play, befriend, and socialize with all of her people. regardless of birth or rank or job. arya valued their existence which is more than most highborns who see them as disposable things.
and while arya hasn’t been in the north for years her connection to it’s people has never diminished. arya often remembers the ones she loved from winterfell and even crosses paths with some northern characters both new and old
It’s so good that The Sun has taken the time to point out that the rise of the Far Right is A Bad Thing. Thank goodness we have a responsible press that wouldn’t dream of feeding a poisonous atmosphere of racist, xenophobic, Islamophobic hate over a period of months and years because like I said, that would be A Bad Thing.
Niall and (Y/N) decide that they want another kid.
“DADDY!” My eyes shot open at the sound of my five year olds screaming for their father. “Ni.” I murmured. “I heard ‘em. I’ll go see what’s goin’ on.” He yawned, getting out of bed and opening the door. I followed him out and we walked down the hall. “What’s the matter buddy?” Niall asked our son Aiden. A crack of lightening lit up the room and our other son James shrieked. “Oh, are ye two scared of de thunderstorms?” Niall asked.
I sat down on James’ bed and hugged him. “Don’t be scared Angel. It’s just sound. Mummy’s got ye.” I hugged the small ginger boy and he buried his face in the crook of my neck. Tears streamed down his face. “Hey. Baby boy don’t cry.” Niall comforted Aiden. “It’s just de clouds bowlin’. Nothin’ t'be scared of. I promise.” He hugged Aiden and kissed his temple.
We tucked the boys back in and kissed them goodnight before heading back to the bedroom. “Yer havin’ twins dey said! It’ll be fun, dey said.” I chuckled. “Oh hush. Ye love dose boys more den anythin’ and ye know it.” Niall murmured. “I do. Ye know what else I love more than anythin’?” I asked. “Hmm?” He questioned.
“My wonderful husband. He’s smart and strong and his accent makes me weak in de knees, but above all, he’s a wonderful father.” I answered, closing our bedroom door. “Oh really? Tell me more about this husband of yers. He sounds like a nice guy.” He chuckled. “He is. He’s fantastic.” I replied, kissing him. “I heard his wife isn’t so bad either.” His laugh vibrated against my lips and I got back in bed.
“Jesus. I can’t believe we’re married and we’ve got five year olds.” He groaned. “I’m old.” I cuddled against him and pulled the comforter up. “I love ye.” He smiled. “Love ye too Ni. So much.” I replied. “D'ye remember de night after we got married, when we were standing on the balcony of our hotel room in Brazil, lookin’ out at de ocean during de sunset and I told ye I wanted kids?” He asked.
I nodded. “It was de perfect day. So warm and sunny.” He rubbed my back. “What if we had more kids?” He suggested. I stopped my gentle caress of his arm and pulled away slightly. “I don’t know Ni. How many are ye thinkin’?” I asked. “Just three.” He answered. “Are we ready?” I looked up at him. “Ye’ve been ready since de day we got married love. I know it and so do ye.” He said, kissing the tip of my nose.
“I am ovulatin’, if ye want t'give it a go.” I said, nervously looking up at him. “Let’s have another kid.” He smiled. “Last one?” I said, raising my eyebrow. “Last one.” He replied, rolling me to my back. “Make love to me.” I whispered as I kissed him. “My pleasure.” He replied, sneakily unclasping my bra. “And yers.” He pulled my strapless bra out from under his shirt that I’d borrowed.
“Yer such a dork.” I laughed, lacing my fingers in his messy brown hair. “But yer my dork.” He kissed my neck and pulled the shirt up over my head. He tossed the shirt across the room and he smiled. “It’s been too long babe.” He sighed, admiring my body. “Niall, yer a liddle excited dere.” I teased, sitting up and looking at his growing bulge. He smirked. “Still love Daddy’s cock, huh darlin’?” He chuckled.
“Still talkin’ dirty even after all dese years.” I mumbled. “Angel, I’ll still be talkin’ dirty t'ye when we’re a hundred and five.” He replied with a sloppy, passionate kiss. “Dirty boy.” “Ye know it.” His hand slipped under the waistband of my panties and he dragged his fingers up my slit. I gasped and he pulled my panties off. “Always so wet fer me.” He praised, rubbing my clit and getting a moan out of me.
“Not so loud babygirl. Don’t wanna wake de boys.” He hushed me with a kiss and pulled away. He pulled his boxers off and slowly teased my entrance. He thrust into me and I wrapped my arms around him. “Niall.” I moaned quietly. “Yes love?” He asked. “Fuck I missed dis.” I breathed. “I did too.” He smiled, kissing my neck.
I grabbed his biceps and he smirked, flexing his muscles. My body shook beneath him and he chuckled. “Such a good girl for me.” He smirked and kissed my neck. “Oooh fuck! Babe I’m not gonna last. Too good.” I murmured. “Yeah darlin’? Yer liddle pussy’s so tight around me cock. Cum fer me (Y/N).” He commanded.
“I’m cummin’.” I breathed. He smirked, and I released on him. “Dat’s me girl.” He grabbed my hips and kissed me. He released and let out a soft sigh. He collapsed on top of me and kissed me happily. “Tank ye my love.” He mumbled, smiling against my neck. “Thank ye.” I replied, lacing my fingers in his hair at the nape of his neck.
His warmth enveloped my body and he kissed my forehead. “Baby.” He hummed. I blushed and cuddled closer to him. “I love ye.” He whispered. “I love ye too Ni.” My head rested on his chest. “Cross yer fingers my dear.” He said, clicking the light off. “Already done.” His hand grasped mine and he chuckled quietly.
“We’ve been working on this album since the beginning of the year so we’re really excited to share it with the fans.” His raspy morning voice wakes me up. It can’t be right, he’s supposed to arrive tonight, he said he had an interview in the morning. “Steal my girl,” he speaks again and I slowly open my eyes, to him sitting on the edge of the bed, his bare back to me and the phone in his hand. He is quietly putting his pants on, trying not to wake me up I’m sure, then he makes his way out of the room.
I look around, his bag is by the the door and his clothes and shoes are scattered all over the floor. It somehow makes me swoon, he is here, he is back here with me. After two months without him, I couldn’t care less about the mess he left, in fact I love it. He was probably so tired when he got in, he didn’t even woke me up, he must just passed out in true Niall fashion.
Since I had no idea he’d be coming home a day early, I’m wearing the most boring pjs ever, so before he sees me today, I change. I go pick his plaid shirt from the floor and put it on because I love his smell as much as he loves me in his clothes. I brush my teeth and tie my hair in a messy bun, trying to not look so I-just-got-out-of-bed. We don’t all rock that look like Niall and his messy bed hair.
I tiptoe my way out of the room searching for him wearing only his shirt, first I thought he’d be rummaging through the kitchen as he is always hungry, but he’s not here, he is also not outside in the garden, he likes to sit with his Obama while he talks on the phone. Also not in the living room. Where is he? After several failed attempts, I hear his laugh coming from downstairs. I make my way to the game room as quietly as possible to find him sitting on the couch with the Tv muted and still talking on the phone.
“I still love to tour, but I hate leaving home so much,” he speaks as I make my way to sit next to him. When he finally spots me, his eyes glow and he smiles, patting his lap for me to sit there. His eyes never leaving my body and I swoon once more. He has this effect on me, no one has ever looked at me the way he does, and I melt every time his blue eyes look in my direction. I sit on his lap and give him a small peck on the lips, trying to make no noise that could be heard through the phone. I nuzzle in his neck, entertaining myself with the football match on the Tv. His free hand is drawing circles on my thighs, slowly driving me insane. I squeeze my legs shut as his hand starts traveling down to my center. I sit up straight to look at his face and mouth YOU’RE ON THE PHONE, to which he answers with a sexy smirk and a shrug. God, the things he does to my body. I can feel myself get wetter by the second, and all he did was smirk. The worst part of it all? He knows exactly what he does to me. He knows the effect he has on my body, and even if my mouth tried to deny it, my body would betray me.
“South America, last time we were there we didn’t get to see much apart from the hotels, so that’d be nice,” he speaks to the phone while holding it with his shoulder, leaving both his hands free. He grabs one of my legs and pulls it to his left side so that I’m straddling him. He grabs both my arms and clasps them behind my back, and I know what this means. It means that I can’t use my arms and that he, as always, is in total control of my body for the time being. He loves doing this. Having me stay still for him and knowing that I will never deny him, but always enjoy him.
His hands are busy slowly unbuttoning his shirt from my body. He is taking his time, because he knows it drives me crazy. And I can’t help it when my hips rock against him. His eyes angrily lock with mine, “we did write a lot on this album, we like to do things our own way,” he sternly answers the question and I know that that last part was meant for me too because I can’t seem to stay still. But it’s been too long, too long without him, he can’t expect me to be happy that he is taking his time, because I just want him. NOW.
When he’s finally done with with the buttons he just lets the shirt hang on my body, not really exposing much of my breasts. I feel his eyes travel down my body, and I see the smirk that forms on his face when he notices that I’m not wearing any underwear. He takes his phone in one hand and answers yet another question but I don’t catch anything he says since the fingertips from his free hand are gracing the skin between the valley of my breasts. My heart is beating like crazy and my breaths are hitched. Slowly he lets his hand cup my left breast and I try my best to swallow my moans as I tilt my head back, but still one very small one beats me. Niall freezes, and covers it with a laugh, before resuming his sweet torture on my body.
“Yeah, ‘t was a pleasure talking to ya, thanks mate,” I hear his phone fall on the couch and his hand curl around my neck bringing me down to him. Our lips meet and I let him devour me. His tongue invading my mouth, and his taste making me realize how much I missed him. Without even realizing it I bring my hands to cup his face. Not caring much for sex now, but for having him here with me, for getting to kiss those lips. His hands wrap on my forearms as he breaks the kiss and brings them down with his tight grip.
“Hi, beautiful,” he whispers before placing a kiss on the tip of my nose. His face soft and loving.
“I missed you,” that’s all I say as I try to free myself from his grip, but he won’t let my arms go.
“That’s why ya’ve been such a bad girl?” His expression hardens, and I know that he is back to being in control. “Walking ‘round the house with only my shirt? What if Wille saw ya? Huh?” he hisses, “Distracting me while I’m on the phone,” he clicks his tongue, “touching me when ya know ya shouldn’t,” he shakes his head. He lets go of my hands, as his slowly rid me of his shirt. “Such a bad, bad, girl. What I’m I going to do with ya?”
“Fuck me,” I blurt as his hands travel up my arms and his eyes admire my body, before settling on mine.
“Fuck ya?” he laughs tilting his head back, “more like punish ya babe.” I freeze as his hands dig at my hips, keeping in my place as I try to move away from him. Not really afraid of him, but not sure about what will be happening next. “Where ya goin’ babe?”
“N-nowhere,” I stutter, as I feel his hands lifting me up from his lap.
“Look at the mess ya made,” I look at his now stained pants as I stand before him completely naked and at his mercy. If his pants are wet, I can’t imagine how wet my pussy is right now. I feel the urge to touch myself, but I know that will only set him off. “Sit,” he nods towards the glass coffee table behind me and I oblige, the cold glass against my ass sending shivers down my spine. “Spread,” he says standing up, palming himself through his pants with one hand as the other grabs my chin jerking my face up, “don’t make me ask ya again.”
My hands come to my knees, pushing between my legs to open them, slowly spreading them as far as I can go “like this?” I sweetly ask him meeting his dark blue eyes with mine.
“Fuckin’ hell… yes, touch yerself,” he pants and I swallow hard. As I slowly drag my hand to my center. Spreading myself open with my fingers for him to see. “Nice,” he mumbles as his hands lower his pants and his erection springs free. So fucking beautiful, pink and thick and I feel the need to lunge myself at him, to take him in my mouth, but I know better than to do as I please.
“Fuckin’ fuck that pussy for me babe,” he mumbles. Fuck, I love when he talks like that.
I let two fingers slide inside me and close my eyes as I moan, “fuck I wish it was you, Niall.”
“Yea, but you’ve been a very bad liddle girl so ya don’t get to touch me or have me touch ya,” he scowls me. He brings his hand to my face, “lick,” he orders and I do as I’m told. Licking all along his hand. He quickly wraps it around his shaft and starts pumping himself, slowly. My eyes are glued to his cock, as I keep fucking myself with my hand, moans occasionally leaving my lips. “Eyes on me princes,” he groans and I snap to look at him. The hand that is not pumping his cock cups my face, and I suck at his thumb. I twirl my tongue at it as I would his cock, “Fuck,” he whispers, tilting his head back. He swallows hard as his adams apple bobs in his throat. My eyes never leaving his face. And my fingers never slowing their pace.
His hand leaves my face to wrap his fingers on my hair, “Niall,” I breathe and his eyes fall from my face to where my hand is working me toward my orgasm.
“So beautiful,” he groans,“I’m so close babe, I need ya to come with me,” he breaths, “rub yer clit.”
He knows exactly what I need and when I need it. I bring my other hand to rub my clit while the other fucks me. He is movements on his shaft fasten. The moans that leave his mouth with every pump, have me on the edge.
“Open yer mouth,” he breaths and I open my mouth, sticking my tongue out for him. He keeps pumping himself, rubbing himself against my tongue, and I feel my orgasm building in my center. It won’t be long now.
I taste his bitter come in my tongue as he groans, “fuucckk,” and that’s enough to push me to the edge. My legs shake close as I try to work myself through it. I close my eyes and tilt my body back. Feeling Niall’s cum hit my breasts, my stomach my legs, as I swallow what landed on my mouth.
My back hits the cold table and I close my eyes. Too lost in everything that just happened. I’m spread naked on the table when I hear noise coming from upstairs.
My eyes flutter open and I search for Niall, who is standing in the same spot I left him, his semi-erect cock now concealed behind his pants once more. I rest my weight on my elbows, not sure of what’s going on.
“Jenna, are you downstairs?” Wille asks as I hear him travel down the stairs. Niall’s eyes go big as plates.
“Don’t come in ‘ere,” Niall yells and Willie stops just by the door.
“Uh, man! Are you guys having sex in there?” Silence. “Ugh, just clean up, mate, I don’t wanna know what you did or where you did it.”
“Will do, mate, will do” Niall lets out a laugh as he extends his hand for me to take. I take it and he pulls me to him, plopping himself on the couch with me straddling him. Not caring about the bigger mess we’re making on ourselves. I wrap my arms around him resting my head on the crook of his neck, kissing him there. He nuzzles me with his nose before whispering to my ear, “I missed ya, beautiful.”