For the hands that stopped right where they did—on purpose.
If you’re annoyed it didn’t go further…
good.
— 🔥
Look At Me
Arthur doesn’t raise his voice.
He doesn’t have to.
The moment you push him—half teasing, half daring—his hand comes out, firm on your wrist, stopping you mid-step. Not rough. Not gentle either. Just decisive.
“Don’t,” he says quietly.
You look up at him. You’re close enough now to feel the heat of his body, the way his chest rises with a breath he’s very clearly controlling. His thumb shifts, pressing into the inside of your wrist—right where your pulse jumps.
His eyes darken when he feels it.
“Careful,” he murmurs. “You keep lookin’ at me like that, I’m gonna forget where we are.”
You swallow. Say nothing.
Arthur steps in anyway.
Your back meets the tree behind you—solid, unavoidable—and he cages you there without touching you again. One arm braced above your head, the other resting at his side like he’s proving a point: you’re here because I let you be.
He leans in, slow enough to be deliberate.
“You know exactly what you’re doin’,” he says under his breath. “And I know you like when I notice.”
His knuckles brush your jaw—not a caress, more like a promise. He tips your chin up just enough that you have to meet his eyes.
“Look at me.”
You do.
That’s his mistake.
Arthur’s mouth hovers a breath away from yours, close enough that his words warm your lips when he speaks.
“Good,” he murmurs. “Just like that.”
He kisses you then—deep, unhurried, claiming. Not rushed. Not desperate. The kind of kiss that makes your knees go weak because he’s in control of the pace, breaking it only when he decides you’ve had enough.
When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours.
“You alright?” he asks softly, like he hasn’t just wrecked your ability to think.
You nod, breathless.
A corner of his mouth lifts. Satisfied. Dangerous.
“Thought so.”
He steps back—finally—leaving you pressed to the tree, heart racing, knowing damn well he could’ve kept going… and chose not to.
Hey, Timblr followers. due to some personal things, i’m claiming this account inactive. My stories will stay, But I wont be around hardly at all or never. I’m sorry for the promised works that have yet to be completed, but I’m throwing in the rag until further notice. Thank you so much for reading and requesting. the feedback when it came meant a lot to me. You guys take care of yourselves. ✌
While this song makes me merry,
Tyrian purple dyes many a hue
From magenta to berry
And a true purple too.
But fun as it is to watch this poetic race
The answer is staring you right in the face:
Roses are red and violets are blue
Because nothing fucking rhymes with purple.
A GOOD ROMANCE STARTS WITH A GOOD FRIENDSHIP. A GOOD ROMANCE STARTS WITH A GOOD FRIENDSHIP. A GOOD ROMANCE STARTS WITH A GOOD FRIENDSHIP. A GOOD ROMANCE STARTS WITH A GOOD FRIENDSHIP. A GOOD ROMANCE STARTS WITH A GOOD FRIENDSHIP.
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