No Arms Can Ever Hold You Novels & Stories

Perhaps. "I'm Kim Yeojoon. I do not wish to harm you." He lifted both arms in the air in surrender. His breathing was steady despite the threat. He needs to remain calm and poised even in the jaws of danger. "I am only here to help since I sensed the smell of blood. Forgive me if I have frightened you."

Without thinking, I threw myself into his arms, colliding with his bare chest. He caught me easily, his grip tightening around my waist in a way that felt a little too natural, like his hands had been there before and knew exactly how to hold me. His skin was warm against mine, and I could feel the strength in his arms as he held me firmly, almost possessively, as though he thought I was going to fall.

I say and walk past him but he suddenly holds my arm which makes me stop walking. I look at him. What’s his problem? What’s his right to hold my arm? I try to pull out my arm in his grip but he did not let me go. Seriously? What’s wrong with him? Why is he doing this? “I’m not trying to do something with you, Miss. I just want to know your name.” “I told you, I can’t tell you. I’m sorry to let go of my arm.” I said but he did not let go of my arm.

A goon strode up, aiming his machete at Nash's arm even as he lay prone on the floor, completely helpless. "Dad!" Kat screamed. Clang! Just as everyone thought Nash's arm was going to be cut off, the goon doing it was left staring at hand holding his machete in place. He was certainly stunned—the machete was not budging no matter how he moved, and why was the hand holding the blade not bleeding?! Everyone was left staring in disbelief at Frank—naturally, he was the one holding the machete. "That's enough," he growled. Having completed Birthright, even bullets would not pierce his projected pure vigor, let alone a machete.

In the morning I was still against him. The arm was still there. I had come to it in the night the way a thing falls into a hollow, and I lay in it for one second and understood that I had never in my life woken up holding anything. I moved. The arm let go. I thought he was asleep and then I saw he was not. "You were holding on to me," he said. "All night. You did not let go once." I looked down. I was holding his shirt. My hand was closed in the cloth of it, and I had no memory of putting it there, and I let go the way you drop a hot thing.

The door of the cage flung open and a man, of average height with broad shoulders walked up to me and grabbed my arm. Sometimes I wonder how fragile I am cause in their arms I feel weightless. I held Luna with my other hand trying to stay strong as he led me out of the cage.

A thing held in the arms of their god. My face, my neck, my entire body burned with a humiliation so profound it was almost a physical pain. My legs were gone, two useless, dangling weights, leaving me with no choice but to be plastered against him. His arm wasn't just supportive; it was a bar of iron, possessive, claiming. I was hanging by a thread, my cheek pressed against the cold leather of his tunic, my entire world reduced to the scent of pine and his sheer, immovable strength.

, I could not push up, not even once. I went down, my arms couldn't lift up. If my arms could talk, I believe he would fold his arms(you saw what I did there, didn't ya?) and say, "Ain't lifting any weight, man. I'm just two-skin-binding-slender sticks!".

After a few rounds, the skin on my wrists was red and burning. “Let’s try something else. How to escape a sleeper hold,” Bryan said. My blank expression urged him on. “If someone has his arm around your neck from behind, it can make you pass out in just a few seconds.” “Scary,” I said, imagining it. “Yeah, it is. I’ll show you first. Then you’ll try it. Come up and put your arm around my neck.” “Um, I don’t think my arm will reach. You’re tall. I’m short.”

The broken chair leg I held falls and I quickly held the person's arm that was now choking me. Using it I hold myself up and push my legs out to touch the counter. As soon as my feet had touched it I used it to push away with force, the result made whoever held me to be thrown into the opposite wall. We both fell with a loud thump and I successfully got out of the hold.