killing time | a Jonerys drabble
This is for the Anon who suggested we revisit the racing beans from that one fic I wrote where they were racecar drivers and it ended up far angstier than intended 🤣 Also uses prompt from @youwerenevermine “you’re an idiot”/“yes but I’m your idiot.” Ooooh and it is smutty 🤭
"I can't believe you think this is going to work."
"It will work. Because I'm a genius."
That was a little much, Dany thought, hoisting herself onto the tool bench in the garage, swinging her feet back and forth, watching the handsome specimen of her husband bent in half in the engine of the Direwolf, his fine, tight ass wiggling in his grease-stained coveralls, which should have made him look like he was wearing a potato sack, but were pulling in all the right places. He'd tied the arms around his hips, his white t-shirt underneath stained with grease, sweat, motor oil, and if she was not mistaken-- a large swipe of chocolate from the cake their daughter had been eating before he put her to bed for her naptime.
He moved some more, shifting on his feet and she bit her lower lip, checking the clock hanging askew on the wall. They had a meeting in about two hours, and were killing time just lounging around the garage. It made her think of when they were teenagers, spending all their time in and around the garage, making messes and letting someone else clean it up.
Now they cleaned things up themselves. He also cleaned up nicely himself. He wiggled again and she wondered if he was doing this on purpose. She shifted uncomfortably on the bench, sitting on her hands instead of doing anything that might get her in trouble. He was <i>working</i>, as he liked to stress. He didn’t want distractions when he was working.
Although working wasn’t an apt enough word for what he was doing. Fucking up a perfectly good vehicle. That’s what he was doing.
Now he was adding some sort of extra filter which he claimed would give the Direwolf extra air flow, boosting its acceleration. It made no sense to her. Plus, he'd screwed with the fins on the back, which was <i>not</i> his job, that was Gendry's as their aerodynamics expert, but Jon knew better, always, he said.
Except for her.
She wrinkled her nose, when he pulled out from the engine and then spun around, dropping down onto the other side to scoot underneath the vehicle. Exasperated, she groaned. "What are you doing now?"
"Checking the fuel pump, I think it’s jacked."
"You're making shit up." He hummed underneath and kicked his feet around. After a few minutes of clanking around, she couldn't stand it any longer and climbed down, peering into the engine, disgusted at the wires he had crisscrossing everywhere. It made no sense. It was like the inside of his head. She scowled at him, when he emerged, swatting her ass lightly with the dirty rag in his hands. She rolled her eyes. "You're an idiot."
"Ah, but I'm your idiot."
Be that as it may, he was screwing up a perfectly good working engine because he couldn't just leave things alone. "That's not getting you anywhere, give me that." She swiped the wrench from him and crawled up onto the Direwolf's fender, small and spry enough to really get into the engine cavity. She made sure to wiggle her butt, in her tight jeans, just enough to tease him, while also kicking up her foot.
The mess he’d created was atrocious. She could not believe this chaos of an engine. Disgusted, she made a derisive snort. “I take it back, you aren’t an idiot.”
“Aye.” She climbed out and threw one of the fuel injectors she had just removed at him, as he scowled. She tilted her face up to his, smirking. “You’re a moron.”
“Is that not the same?”
“Moron is worse to me. Idiot implies you have some sense of awareness of what you did, you just did it stupidly.”
He wagged the fuel injector at her. “This is perfectly fine!”
The fuel injector flew over his shoulder, after he tossed it and he grabbed her hips, hoisting her up onto the car’s side, tilting her back over the fiberglass to the roof, growling. “You’re impossible.”
She snapped her teeth on his bottom lip, groaning. “You are.”
The next thing she knew they were over each other, his mouth hot on her sweaty neck, pulse racing against his tongue. She moaned for more, needy, grinding her hips up into his and scratched her nails down his shoulders, pushing them under his t-shirt sleeves to get to his bare skin.
“Jon,” she groaned, his palms under her arse to lift her higher against the car, while she furiously pulled at his coveralls. He kissed her, silencing her protests, tongue spearing into her mouth and she nipped at him, her fingers easing into his briefs to free him and thumb at his cock, fondling the thick, velvet length, hardening to steel in her hands.
He pulled away, whining impatiently. “What time is it?” he panted, flicking the tab at her jeans, leaning sideways to keep her upright against the envie with his body while he worked the denim and her lace bikinis over her hip.
Doesn’t matter, she thought, busying herself with kissing him again. She loved him, loved him so much, it was hard to wrap her mind around how they had been willing to go their separate ways for so long before coming together again.
She gasped when he pulled away and latched his mouth over her nipple through her tank’s thin cotton, the competing sensations blinding her. She lifted higher and he thrust into her hand. She was drenched, cunt pulsing, and she lined him up, sliding her cunt along his cock, the head bumping her clit. She moaned softly and knocked her head against the car hood behind her.
He pushed into her easily, filling and stretching, smothering her with his body and mouth. She canted her hips, encouraging him to move, and clutched his arms. He found her hand with his and squeezed, joining them at her thigh, which was hiked up over his hip, the coveralls slapping against their thighs, zipper clanking and her jeans awkwardly bunched near her knees, the stretch denim stretching to its limits.
They had done this more times than she could count, fucking in garages and in and on cars and gods she loved it. She moaned his name and tore her nails at his arm while squeezing his hand. He grunted into her shoulder, name a breath on his lips and then she was coming, encouraging him with her until they were shattering, her cry strangled and her name a shout on his lips.
“Jon,” she sighed, feet falling to the floor, loose and limber. She hummed into his neck, kissing his pulse.
He tilted his face down and kissed her, slowly, reverently. She smiled lazily. It was so nice and comfortable afterward. She met his gaze, loving and sleepy, gray eyes blown out to black. “You’re still an idiot,” she murmured.
Jon laughed and arched his brow, about to reply when they froze, hearing a door banging from somewhere near. “Uh…”
“Jon! Dany! Where are you? We have that sponsorship meeting today and I don’t want to go can I stay with Laena?” It was Arya, bellowing through the house.
They cursed, hurriedly righting themselves as best as they could. Dany winced, squeezing her legs together uncomfortably. “Arya? What are you doing here?”
“We have that thing!” She pushed open the door and stepped in, scowling immediately. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” they said at the same time.
Arya made a face. “Ew you both are gross. Were you fucking?” She didn’t wait and gagged. “Nevermind don’t tell me…” she trailed off distracted at the engine. She bowled, leaping for it. “Jon! What did you do!?”
At the same time, from the monitor on the table beside her, Laena began babbling, awake from her nap. Dany sighed, patting Jon’s cheek. “My idiot,” she murmured and kissed him, before skirting away to leave him to argue with Arya over what he’d done to the car.
All she knew was when it was ready to drive, it would be ready and she’d trust whatever he did. Even if it made zero sense. She winked at him when he caught her gaze across the garage and he made a face.
She laughed, skipping off to get their daughter and clean up. They had a race to go prep for.
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Summer Storms | a Jonerys Drabble
And we are back with the boating beans! For @moggett who suggested we check in on them while I canvassed for drabble prompts. 🤗 Also uses the prompt from @youwerenevermine with the quotes: “Why are you wearing my sweater?”/“Because it smells like you.”
Dany loved storms, the more violent and angry the better. She chalked it up to growing up on an island in the middle of a sea, accustomed to being battered left and right as the storms from the north-- aptly the Stormlands-- swept down into the Narrow Sea and Dragonstone before dissipating as they made their way farther south or over to Essos. Seven hells, she was literally named Daenerys Stormborn.
It did not seem, however, that her beloved enjoyed storms in the same way as her.
Nor did their darling daughter. Or son.
Which was most unfortunate, she thought, not minding at all as the storm rocked their yacht around in the Sunset Sea, a rather odd late summer storm surprising them on their big trip from Lotus Port up north to Oldtown. They had spent a week at their house in the Summer Islands and were going to take the yacht that Rhaegar had bought— “just because”— up to Oldtown where he wanted to dock it.
She was sure there was some sort of weird tax thing he was doing but didn’t ask. She’d look into it later. Right now she needed a break. The foundation had been going gangbusters and she’d been working so much. They were enjoying their alone time as a family.
Aside from the major storm.
They weren’t piloting themselves through it and the yacht was large enough that it wasn’t in any danger. She didn’t mind. If anything, she thought, peering out the window at the lightning cracking through the sky, this was a perfect evening to curl up with her babies and a good book.
“Babies?” she called, exiting the main living area and going down the corridor towards the stern. “Jae? Rhae?”
In the huge open area that had large doors which ordinarily would have opened out to the back deck, her kids were bundled with Jon, fast asleep and clutching him. Jae had her blanket wrapped around her like mummy rags and Rhae was in one of his swimsuits complete with hat. He hated the water but they couldn’t get him to wear anything else.
It wasn’t that though, which had her frowning. “Jon?”
He flinched when a howl of wind shook the windows. “Huh?”
“Why are you wearing my sweater?”
He glanced at the beige woman’s sweater he’d shoved his arms into. He pulled it tighter. “Um…Because it smells like you.”
“But I’m right here,” she laughed, walking over to stretch out on the couch with him, pulling Jae into her arms. He whined and pushed his face into her neck. She rubbed his back soothingly.
Jon shrugged. “You know I hate being on the water during storms.”
“Just face it, you’re afraid of storms.”
“No!” He said it so loudly she feared he would wake the kids. He hissed, catching himself. “I am not afraid.”
There was another clap of thunder, followed immed by a bolt of lightning and then another thunderclap. Jae cried out in her sleep, reaching for him. She got between the kids and him, so they were all tangled in a pretzel and each one was somehow touching her. Or her sweater.
It was a favorite, she’d been wearing it earlier on the deck. She chuckled and sniffed the wrist. “Smells like saltwater and lavender and sunscreen.”
He smirked. “It’s soothing.”
“You could have found me.”
“You were working.”
Unfortunately that was true. She winced. “Sorry, I had some emails to return. I’ll stop.”
She giggled. It was so silly, him in her sweater. Just to comfort himself. “I love you.”
“Love you too.”
“You can keep the sweater. You stretched it.”
He kissed her lightly, murmuring. “Then it will smell like me.”
“And I’ll wear it next time I’m scared.”
“I am not scared!”
She rolled her eyes, saying nothing, but her Big Bad Wolf jumped in spite of himself at the next boom outside. The rain picked up, hammering the yacht, and she leaned back as they all cuddled against her. Jon mumbled something again about not being scared, but she didn’t believe him.
It was fine, she thought, he could keep the sweater. It kind of looked better on him anyway, she chuckled, settling in for a long night ahead of them.
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