#I fucking love northern Ghosties

[loveisinthebat]

Flight Grump

[magalidragon]

n°7 - “Is there some space left in that bathtub?”

In the “Heat Wave” universe, pretty please!😊

YES! Love these beans! 🔥🔥🔥 And  because I also got another ask for this same universe, I’ve combined it into one Drabblish-ish (2700 words, not 2500, lol).  And THANK YOU FOR THE MOODBOARD DARLING!  Enjoy!

Smutty One Liner Prompts

7. “Is there some space left in that bathtub?”

10. “Jealousy seems to be a great motivator for you.”

Bliss, that's what this was, Dany thought, her eyes still closed, her breathing even, and her skin tingly and warm.  She sighed, exhaling out any worry she might continue to have—there was no more worry now that she was out of the Hell House and living in Heaven's Hall—her body nestled in a soft, fluffy mattress with thick quilt and soft flannel sheets covering her.  She smiled, serene, and opened her eyes slowly, peering up at a set of red eyes, watching her.  

She smiled wider, quirking an eyebrow up.  "That's really creepy Ghost."

Ghost said nothing, licked his chops, and then her face, and hopped away from his nighttime stalking.  She chuckled, sitting up on her elbows, glancing at three faces underneath one of the throw blankets over the bed, all of her little dragons purring contentedly, no doubt thankful she had relocated them completely.  She wiggled her toes, returning feeling to them, and scanned the room, which was empty.  

The snow had eventually stopped, the wind fading away, and now the sun was out, but to her surprise, she must have slept through most of the day.  Bloody cold, she cursed inwardly, for she never got sick.  She had slept most of the last couple of days, interspersed with coughing fits, cranky moments of letting Jon take her temperature and pour soup and tea down her throat, and the occasional "I am not sick, so you can totally fuck me, I promise I won't pass out" debates.  He had refused, tucking her into the big bed in his room, saying that she was his patient now, and one did not take advantage that way.

"You're too honorable for your own good," she bitched, the last time she'd tried to suggest a little nookie.

"Sue me."

"Hmm, I might."  

He simply kissed her nose, told her she was adorable with her pouting, and she fell asleep before she could reply, cursing her body for succumbing to this strange Southern cold during this strange Southern storm.  

It was almost sundown; the light fading overtop the trees cocooning the house on the mountainside.  She blinked at the reflection of the snowy treetops in the huge windows and felt good.  Good enough to get out of bed, she figured, sliding free of the sheets, the huge Night's Watch hoodie falling over her hips to her knees and sleeves over her fingertips.  She shuffled in her thick wool socks—also stolen from Jon—to the bathroom, flicking on the light and taking stock of her reflection.  

Her nose was chapped from blowing into Kleenex, her eyes slightly blood-shot, and her hair was a nest of epic proportions, she wondered if there was a dragon living in it.  She scrubbed her cheek with her palm, shaking her head, and glanced at Ghost, who looked up at her curiously.  "Do you think I'm sexy Ghost?"  She put on a fake pose, thrusting her hip to the side, pretending to look cute in the oversized sweatshirt and nothing else.  

Ghost did not indicate one way or the other.  He just wandered off towards the sunken tub, hoping into it and then put his paws on the other side, tail wagging and gazing out the floor-to-ceiling windows.  She wandered over, sitting on the edge, and followed his gaze, smiling down at Jon, who was moving firewood from the deck into the house.  She scratched Ghost's head.  "Thank you for keeping me company, I'm sure you'd rather be with him."

She ran her fingers as best through her hair as she could, wincing at tangles.  "Ugh."  A shower was necessary.  She shivered; it was still chilly, even with the heat returning, the pipes back to working order.  

Somewhere in the bedroom, her phone dinged.  She left Ghost to his watch, getting off the bathtub edge and went to pick it up from the nightstand, staring at the email notification from Tyrion Lannister.  

Thank you for your message, Lannister Properties is currently closed due to significant weather activity, we will respond in due time. She scoffed, opened up one of the emails that had been sent immediately after and saw that indeed, Tyrion had replied.

Ms. Targaryen, I was sorry to see your negative review of our property.  As you know, significant weather activity is possible, and while we cannot compensate you for any destruction caused by Acts of the Gods, we would like to offer you a 20 percent discount on your next Lannister Property rental.  A Lannister always pays their debts, and we would like to no longer be in debt to you!  Thank you, Tyrion  P.S.  Our insurance investigator will survey the property damage and be in touch regarding your payment options.

Her mouth dropped.  "Fuck you!" she shouted at the email.  She would definitely be handling this stupid little lion herself.  After drafting a very strongly worded email with tons of legal jargon she hoped would have the Lannister quaking in his boots, she dropped her phone, a muscle twitching somewhere in her shoulder.  She rubbed at it, scowling at the dragons, who were watching her from where they now were seated on her pillow.  She shook her head.  "Fucking Lannisters."

At least she had Jon, she figured, and picked up her phone again, sending a quick message to Missandei.  Despite the weather, the plague, and the shitty rental, I'm feeling much better now.

Her phone buzzed almost immediately.  She smirked at her BFF's reply:  Yes, I've heard endless banging can do that to a person.

After saying that she was not endless banging Jon-- they'd had to take a break because of the plague after all-- she put the phone on silent, charged it up, and then padded back into the bathroom, because now she well and truly needed a hot, long, relaxing shower....or...maybe...

Her eyes landed on the tub.  It had been used just to store water those first couple days without power, but a week later....she swished her lips around and decided.  She deserved a soak.  Just like she wanted when she first saw it.  She leaned over and tugged on the taps, letting the hot water pour in, steam instantly rising.  It was rather deep, like a small pond, and she puttered about looking for some candles, finding a few in another bedroom and even some bath salts.  They smelled divine, lavender and eucalyptus, perfect for relaxing and also shaking loose any remaining crap in her nose from the cold.  

She watched the bubbles foam, fluffy and cloudlike, almost resembling the snow that pillowed along the windowsills outside.  The sun had fully disappeared behind the trees, the stars peeking out.  It was rather breathtaking, maybe even something she might have seen if she'd been up at the Wall with Missandei and Grey instead of down in Dorne, when she had planned to just watch sunsets over red sand dunes and mountains.  Go figure, she was getting the North and she didn't even pay for it.

Stripping out of her hoodie and her granny panties— Jon had thankfully not continued to make fun of her for their use while she was sick—she slipped into the tub, hissing at the first touch of the hot water on her skin, and then moaning in delight, her dragonblood positively singing.  Her brothers jokingly referred to her as "the Unburnt" because for whatever reason she did not feel pain with heat.  Barely even flinched when fire flicked her fingertips as she loaded the fireplace with wood, to Jon's shock.  

It was straight out of the Heavens of Valyria, she thought, sinking fully under the foamy bubbles, the lavender soothing her dry skin, the eucalyptus filling her lungs, crisp and healing.  She reached to adjust her knotty hair, piled on her head, and closed her eyes, groaning happily the deeper she sunk into the tub.  The lights off, the candles all around her, it was how she wouldn't mind spending another power outage.

Ghost was not one to leave her out, his head on the edge of the tub, accepting wet scratches now and then on his head.  She chuckled, opening an eye to peer at him.  "If you want in here, you're welcome to it, but I'm not dealing with that wet dog smell later."

He huffed, annoyed.  

The only thing truly missing, she realized, after an undetermined amount of time later, was some music, a glass of wine, and a very attractive, very sexy, very naked Jon Snow.

"Well look at you."

Eyes springing open, she turned her head sideways, spotting Jon leaning against the door frame.  His sweaty curls slicked at his neck and temples, his t-shirt and sweats damp from the snow and exertion of moving all the firewood around.  In his hands, he had a bottle of beer and a glass of wine.  She smirked.  "Which one is for me?"

"Which one do you prefer?"

"Gimme."

He already knew her, handing her the Dornish red, while he sipped at the Northern ale.  He glanced at Ghost, who was scowling up at him.  "What?  I'm not giving you a bath."

"Am I in his tub?"

"Yes, he likes baths."

"Your dog is very weird Jon Snow."

"Don't I know it."  His eyes darkened, the candlelight shooting off the gray irises in sparks, his lip curling over his teeth in a wry smile.  "In fact, I have to say, I'm a little upset with you."

She smirked, flicking some bubbles at him.  "Oh yeah?"

"Aye, you're sharing bathtime with my dog and not me."

Ghost stuck his nose into the bubbles, blowing them up into the air and snatching them with his teeth, until some went up his nose and he sneezed, rubbing his nose into the rug.  She sat up, peering over the edge of the tub, laughing.  "Oh Ghostie!  You alright prumia?"

The Valyrian for 'my heart' had begun slipping easily when it came to the fluffy dog, who whined, rubbed his nose with his paw, and accepted her kisses, even if some of the water dripped from her arms and shoulders when she leaned over to reach him.  She fell back into the tub, once Ghost had finished with her, and wandered off, the door banging shut after him.  She frowned, about to ask, but Jon answered the unspoken question.

"Aye, he closed the door.  He also likes giving people privacy."

As he had kept to himself, hiding off away from them during those couple nights on the floor in front of the fireplace, she had to thank the dog for that.  She smirked up at Jon, who looked a bit annoyed, and was toeing off his socks, the beer now on the edge of the tub.  She sipped he wine, surveying him appreciatively, the black t-shirt falling to the floor.  She purred, recognizing the gleaming lust in his eyes.  "Who knew jealousy was such a powerful motivator for you?"

"Jealous?" he scoffed.  "No way."

"Hmm."  She disagreed.  

“Is there some space left in that bathtub?”  

When she opened her eyes, she found that he was naked, the sweatpants joining the t-shirt and his socks.  She licked her lips, shifting and gestured; there was more than enough room.  She smirked at him, as he stepped in and yelped.  “Careful, it’s hot,” she cooed.  Gathering some bubbles, she piled them in front of her, annoyed that they shielded her favorite part of him from her gaze.  She had an ulterior motive of course, for hiding her body from him, smirking as he scowled back at her, no doubt mad he couldn’t see beyond the lavender scented shield.

He sank back into the tub, his head popping over the side, leaning on the other edge and his feet sliding along her legs, before they stopped on either side of her arse.  She slipped her leg along his, the salts and soaps giving her skin an added slickness.  He narrowed his eyes on hers and she smiled, innocent, as her foot moved over his calf, his thigh, and then pressed between them, her brows arching.  “Hmm,” she murmured.  “Such…hard work out there.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I was alone in bed when I woke up,” she continued.  She sniffed, hoping her voice didn’t have the added thickness to it from her cold.  She was trying to be sexy, scooping up a handful of bubbles and blowing them towards him.  

A little pillow of bubbles landed on his head and he smiled, eyebrow lifting.  “Cute.”

“You do look cute.”  

“I don’t usually like baths.”  He flicked some bubbles away from her chest, scowling again at them.  “They’re blocking the view.”

“Well that’s too bad.”

“It really is.  Makes things…inaccessible too.”

“And what are those?”  Her foot was still sliding along his cock, her toes tickling along the hard, thick length, and suddenly it fell to the side, as he lunged towards her, a wolf with its prey.  Water splashed around them, bubbles everywhere, and before she knew it, his arms were around her thighs, hoisting her up to the edge of the tub, and splaying her legs out.  A wicked grin shot up at her, his sinful lips twisted, and eyes black.  She cried out, before she even knew what was happening, and he tugged her forward, arms wrapped around her legs, which fell over his shoulders, and he dove down.

The first thing she felt was his tongue, spearing straight into her.  “Fuck!” she screamed, clenching around his head and grabbing at his wet curls.  She moaned, long and low, her head falling backwards, smacking against the foggy windowpane.  She kept a hand on his hair and her other fell back as well, grappling for something to hold, and eventually found the edge of the window itself, holding tight to the wooden frame.  

He feasted like a man starved, his tongue slipping in and around her folds, which had already been damp at the sight of him and had grown increasingly slick with her need for him as he teased her and stripped in front of her. She panted, Valyrian babbling with “Jon” and “fuck” and “yes”, everything he did in response to her body’s craving.  His tongue was pure magic, lips suckling here and there, and his hand breaking free of her leg to slip between them, a single thick finger sliding inside, crooking at just the right angle to find the spot inside of her that had her whining, high-pitched, desperate to come.  

Flicking his tongue around her entrance, he gathered up her wetness with it and carried it to her clit, nibbling and sucking the little bud, alternating between giving it the attention she wanted and sliding it back into her, a second finger now joining the first.  He let go of her other thigh, since she was holding herself up and his other hand pressed above her pubic bone, at the exact moment his fingers pressed to that magic spot, the pressure too much for her to bear.  

She was coming, the flame already flickering, and stoked higher and higher.  She gripped his hair so tight; she almost tore it clean from his skull, and when her eyes pried open long enough to meet his, that devious, devilish look that told her he knew exactly what he was doing, she couldn’t take it.  It shattered her, the flame exploding into thousands of tiny ones, engulfing her.  

Hand falling off the window, smearing finger tracks down the condensation, she thrust her hips aimlessly into his mouth, her body clenching, spasming around him.  He carried on, careful of her sensitivity, and kept moving, fingers slipping along, this thumb tapping and circling, and tongue angling through, drinking up her sweetness.  She came again, her body quivering, exhausted.  

It all felt so good, so fuzzy, and she slipped back into the tub, water splashing out over the edges, her head almost falling straight under the top of the still steaming water.  He caught her, turning so she was draped over his chest, the bubbles fading away around them.  His cock was still hard, pressed between his abdomen and hers, and she lifted her hips enough to trap him there, teasing her and him both.  “Soon,” she sighed, eyes closed.  “Give me a minute.”

He brushed his lips over top her hairline, damp now with sweat.  “Feeling better?”

Rising over him as best she could, at the awkward angle, bathwater and bubbles still coating her skin, she reached her hand around his head to pull his mouth to hers, groaning at the taste of herself she still felt on his tongue.  “Oh Jon, you have no idea how good I feel now.”

“Glad to hear it.”