💿been thinking abt Daryl’s arms all oiled up and shiny while he’s working on something (most likely vehicle related) <3
Watching him work is torture. His shoulders, wide and broad and stretching out the grey tee shirt he’s wearing. Tight around his biceps, bulging and flexing as he works the lug wrench. He’s dirty as hell. And it only makes him hotter. Sweat and oil making his muscles glisten from the beam of sunlight shining in from the window. Your mouth is watering. Practically drooling at the sight. Its so nice seeing him like this. Completely in his element. Working with his hands, never afraid of a little elbow grease.
He’s so focused on the vehicle in front of him that he doesn’t even notice you watching him. The car hood propped open to display a jumble of shapes and cords you never cared to get to know. In some faded, fraying work jeans, he’s sat down on a red stool with wheels, brows furrowed while he inspects a manual in front of him.
It’s a wonder he doesn’t hear you come up behind him, flinching lightly in surprise at the feel of your touch. Arms wrapping around his waist from behind. You rest your chin on his shoulder and squint with an attempt to read the chicken scratch notes left by whoever owned the vehicle before.
“Babe, you’re gonna get all dirty,” he tries to shake you off. Worried you might get some grease on your good jeans. Though you really don’t mind. Because feeling his warm back pressed against your chest feels like a damn dream. And the musky, manly smell when you bury your face into his shirt has your heart racing and your mind all fuzzy.
“Are you smellin’ me?” He asks. Frozen in his spot.
“Mhm,” you hum against his shoulder blade. Inhaling once again. Breathing in the familiar fragrance of him.
“Baby, seriously,” he scolds every so gently, “I’m sweaty and dirty and now there’s gonna be oil all over your new clothes,” he points out.
“I don’t mind.” Your hands travel up his stomach. Feeling every curve of his taught muscles under your touch. Fingernails scratching at the soft cotton fabric as you reach his chest and up his shoulders. He sighs deeply at the feeling of your fingers dragging down his arms.
“I’m- I’m almost done here, alright? Can-” he sighs out again, though it’s much closer to a groan this time, “can you wait like ten minutes?”
His brain almost short circuits when you reach down to his jeans, gently palming at his denim covered groin.
His breath hitches when your lips brush his ear. Your cool whisper sends goosebumps down his neck. You knew it wouldn’t be long until he succumbed to your touch. Like a fly in a web, you’ve got him all wrapped up.
This was a short story originally written by @batneko ! You can read the original post here: https://batneko.tumblr.com/post/171036276147/cinderella-marries-the-prince-and-its-fine-the
Thank you for reading ☺️
cinderella marries the prince
and it's... fine. The prince is great! They're in love, he's very sweet and passionate, writing her poems and
Idk why but villains with standards will always be the funniest thing to me. like you'll get someone who will take absolute pleasure in doing the most vile things but paying their minions less than minimum wage? how dare you insult their honor. there'll be a guy who just loves terrorizing people but if you say something sexist about his sidekick he'll punch you in the throat and step aside with glee to let her pummel you. villains who are like "murder is fine generally but if you're a homophobe then I'll tie you to a boulder and catapult you into the ocean". Idk there's just something innately hilarious about a villain who is very definitively bad, like extremely morally reprehensible, but like there are just certain things that even they won't stoop to, thereby implying that those who do are worse
