this isnāt love - arthur morgan x fem!reader (m)
Title:Ā this isn't love (but maybe one day it will be?)
Summary: While on the run, you get caught... Only to be shoved into what is very much not jail, and is just a cellar with one Arthur Morgan under the full moon. While, the guards leave you there to be mauled by the werewolf... He finds a "way" around killing you.
Tags: SmutĀ (18+), Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader, Dub-Con, Werewolf!Arthur Morgan, Dom!Arthur, Possessive behavior(??), Pretty much PWP, Rough-ish sex, Dirty talk, all that good werewolf fic type stuff.
A/N: Iām clearly great at titles... /s... There is aĀ ākeep readingā link here, you may not be able to see it... But itās there. Enjoy(:
"You're making a mistake!" you hiss. You wrap your hands around the bars of the cell. You could feel your face growing hot, with each second that passed. The stagecoach robbery was a massive fucking bust. You had gotten too greedy, and your luck ran out.
Week after week, you had been hitting stagecoach after stagecoach.
You might have been set up, but you weren't entirely sure yet. You made quick work of the driver, taking him out before he even knew what was happening. The first part was done, stopping the stagecoach from moving. The two guards at the front of the stagecoach whip their heads in the direction of the gunshot. They each lift their weapons, surveying the area.
You find your forehead creasing when the guards begin shouting. You take aim once more, unable to comprehend what is being said.
It was needless to say, a surprise when various armed men jumped out of the back of the stagecoach. What was even more shocking, was when several men on horses appeared from your flank.
Before you knew it, the law had you surrounded.
You don't recall the next part too well. You did remember the sound of gunfire coming from every direction. When the dust settled, you were in ropes, and only two men were left standing. So much for it being only two men and two guards.
One of them transported you to the nearest cell with bars that could keep you contain you. Which, much to your disappointment, was in the middle of fucking nowhere. The other lawman remained behind to clean up the massacre that had occurred outside of Saint Denis.
It seemed he had purposely taken you from the city, knowing of your many roots there. Which was a great call on his part, because you would've escaped the moment he rode into town with you.
You had attempted to take in your surroundings, trying to make sense of where you were. The pounding in your head and the jolting of the horse kept you from figuring that much out. He kept riding for what felt like hours until he came across a little cellar.
"Get comfortable with your new roommate, Miss! It'll be a while before more men arrive to get you," the lawman smirks, sending a wink your way. He slams the door of the cellar shut, deserting you with the daylight from the gaps in the door, and a sole torch that they've lit.
You scoff, a sour taste creeping into your mouth.
You twist your head around, trying to peer at the man who is sitting quietly in the corner.
He almost recoils as you make eye contact. You glance over him, taking note of how his cerulean eyes glimmer in the dim lighting. You clasp your hands in front of you, stepping towards the man carefully.
"Keep your distance," he snarls.
You hope the way you jump isn't too noticeable. He had more than startled you.
"Pardon me," you mumble, lifting your palms into the air. You feign innocence and bring a gentle smile to your lips. "Just wanted to introduce myself to my new bunkmate."
He resides in silence, eyes never leaving your form. You take a step back, heaving a sigh. He was not the friendly type, it seemed. You take note of your surroundings, noticing how some of the bars of the tiny window have been bent. You feel your eyebrow twitch upwards at the sight of the chains on the wall. Blood cakes the floor surrounding the chains, and you can't help but wonder what had happened.
"You're going to die tonight."
The words have you craning your head towards him in alarm. "Excuse me?" you ask, raising your eyebrows. Was he threatening you? Ā
He draws his lips backward, exposing his fangs.
A werewolf, you were trapped in a cellar with a werewolf.
Blankly, you stare, wondering what your next course of action is.
"I've read about your kind, but only very little... Why do you say I'm going to die? Are you planning something?" you ask, inhaling softly. You want to shout and yell for help. Instead, you refrain. He simply shakes his head and points his finger towards the cellar doors.
"Full moon," he states.
That was correct, he was affected by the cycles of the moon.
You hear the rustling of his clothes, and you see him stand out of the corner of your eye. You fully turn then, taking in his appearance. You bite the corner of your lip, glancing between him and the doors.
Had they left you here to die? They weren't going to get more men for transportation, they were leaving you. They had left you to be torn to shreds.
"Is there some terms we can agree on?" you prod, watching as he strikes a match and lights his cigarette. He leans against the wall, crossing one arm over his chest.
"Shoot," he says, taking a deep drag from his cigarette.
"Make it quick, when you do it," you sigh, wrapping your arms around yourself. You knew that in this line of work, you would leave this world quicker than most. There was no happy ending, and your life would be cut short. You had just thought that maybe you would go out in a blaze of glory, pockets full of cash.
It may seem odd, but you desired to have that spark of hope in your chest when you went. That little hope that maybe you'd make it out alive. In this case, you couldn't evade death. You would have to face it. There would be no thrilling chase here.
"Sure," he nods, letting out a chuckle. "They may come back before then, though."
You shake your head in doubt, "I'm not even certain how far they would have to ride to get help for transportation, where are we?"
The corner of his mouth quirks upwards, and he takes a final pull of his cigarette. He drops it, snuffing it out with the bottom of his boot. "The outskirts of Valentine, the lawmen like to keep it real quiet. Considering that I'm here to rot, they don't want me to be freed or anyone to notice."
Part of you wants to ask, but you decide against it. That wasn't your business and you were not here to pry. Finally, you absorb the words and you give him a firm nod. They should make it back before night, but who was to say that they were even planning on returning?
"Worst comes to worst, I'll let you shackle me up. Don't fret, darling."
"Those will hold you?" you question, tilting your head to the side. You glance over at the shackles, taking note of how rusted they looked. You plop down on the bench with a heavy sigh.
When you turn to face him, his smirk has bloomed into a full-blown grin.
"For your sake, I hope so."
When night falls, you give up glancing at the cellar door.
You've made small talk through the day, and you've learned that Arthur Morgan is a very funny man. Each story he told had you rolling, and before you knew it he was opening himself up to you. As it grew darker and darker, he began talking less and less.
You hear Arthur groan, and you tear your eyes away from the exit.
"You need to chain me up," he hisses with urgency. "Now!"
You scramble upwards, and he begins making his way towards the shackles. He spreads his arms, and you shackle his left hand first. At this angle, you can see just how tall Arthur is. You follow suit with his right hand, and then his ankles.
You take a step back, making sure each limb is locked properly in the shackles.
A piece of his hair falls in front of his eyes, and you brush it back without thinking. You almost instantly flush, and you move away from him with an apology.
If he cares, he doesn't show it.
With rosy cheeks, you withdraw to the other side of the cell, unsure of what you should do.
You press your back against the wall and begin to let yourself slip down to the floor. You sit, patiently waiting for something to happen.
The fear begins to creep up your spine as you wait. You shiver at the feeling of the freezing floor beneath you. If you made it out, those officers would pay.
You peer over at Arthur, and you can see a tiny bit of strain behind his eyes. His shoulders are tense, and his fingers are balled into a fist. He was already fighting with himself. The night had only just begun. Arthur's lips are clamped shut, and he simply stares.
You glance around the cellar, looking for anything to help you escape. If you could find something like a hairpin, maybe you could shimmy open the lock. After you were out, you could lock it once more, and he wouldn't be able to claw you to death.
Much to your disappointment, you weren't able to locate anything of the sorts. This is why you should always keep pins hidden in your hair.
As each moment passes, Arthur beings to look less and less lucid.
You hear various pops and crackles coming from him, it seemed that he was shifting.
A low growl sounds from the back of Arthur's throat, and you feel your hair begin to stand up.
This was it, you were going to die.
The tips of his fingers shift, and you see massive nails begin to grow. You make eye contact with him, taking note of his blood-red eyes. His lips curl backward, and he snarls at you. His canines were longer than they were earlier, and you were certain he could kill you instantly.
Something told you that Arthur would want to play with his food, first though.
You search your pockets, frantically. You needed something, anything to escape.
The first chain to snap is the one on his left ankle. To be fair, that was probably the most rusted of the four chains. You gasp at the sight, and you scramble back into the corner of the cell. He was going to break free at any moment, and you would be his only target.
Think, think, think!-
"Arthur- if you're in there, resist! Please, resist it!" you call out, chest rapidly rising up and down. You were going to faint... You couldn't do this.
The next shackle to snap is the one that's attached to his right wrist.
You gulp as the chain clinks loudly against the concrete floor. You slip back down onto the floor, and you bring your knees to your chest. You focus on your breathing, trying to calm down.
There would be no point in running, he would only catch you. Besides, there was nowhere to run. You just needed to accept it.
Arthur growls, presumably in pain, as his muscles shift.
It was almost hilarious to see yourself like this. You, the big bad thief, shaking like a leaf in the corner of a cellar. Your guts twisted when the third one didn't snap, but instead was pulled from off of the wall. He was so strong... You wouldn't stand a chance.
Fighting him would only piss him off.
You lock eyes with Arthur, and you can't see any remnants of the Arthur you met earlier. It was just you and the wolf, now.
You wrench your eyes closed when the fourth chain smacks the ground.
Before you can even let out a scream, you're being yanked from off the ground.
You stumble into his arms, cringing as his nails dig into the back of your arms. His hands feel calloused but warm. You keep your eyes shut, not wanting to face him. You feel his hot breath near your neck, and you lift your chin upwards.
It's entirely against your instincts, you want to shrink away from him. Maybe the wolf would recognize that you weren't a threat if you submitted yourself to him.
You wait, expecting for his canines to sink into your skin and rip you apart. When it doesn't come, you peek up at him. A tear slips down your cheek, and you feel embarrassed.
Of course, crying is what any rational person would do. For some reason, it brought you to shame... Is this how the stagecoach driver felt before you put the bullet between his eyes? You deserved this, you deserved to die.
"Got an idea, be good and you'll survive tonight-"
You blink, the strained words not registering.
One moment, you're standing. The next moment, you're being shoved onto the ground of the cellar. The wind gets knocked out of you as you land on your back, and another tear slips down your cheek. You gawk at Arthur's form, trying to see what he's doing.
He appears in front of you, but you don't have time to react to him.
You can only let out a strangled sob as your work pants are stripped from your waist. What was he?-
Oh...
Oh!
Your mind reels back to the passages you had read.
Werewolves wouldn't kill their mates, under any circumstance.
That's what he was doing, he was going to-
You gasp as the rest of your clothes are torn off of you. You let him do as he pleases. You wanted to live, you needed to live. Things... you needed to tie up loose ends, you needed to change. You couldn't die, not now. Not yet.
Arthur flips you with ease, forcing you onto your hands and knees. Every inch of you is on display for him. Your face flushes as his hands meet the curve of your ass. He brings his hand down on your left cheek, and you're positive it will leave a mark.
You can't stop the whimper that leaves your throat.
You feel his coarse thumbs pull your center apart, and you clench your eyes shut. Fuck, this was the definition of embarrassing.
Arthur's tongue against your core is soft, but firm - and has your toes curling.
A wave of guilt washes over you. Hidden beneath the stress and fear, you were enjoying this. Arthur was doing you a favor, he was permanently linking himself to you. He was sabotaging his future for you, and you dared to enjoy it. Ā
Another broad lick against your core has your fingers reaching out for something to grasp. Arthur would be stuck to you until one of you died. Was this worth it?
He has you panting, and desperately searching for something to hold yourself up with. It's when his tongue dips inside of you that you let your head drop to the cold floor of the cellar.
"Such a precious little bitch, aren't you?" he chuckles darkly against your core. You feel one of his hands creep up your inner thigh, and make it's way to the center of your core. "Giving up my right for some little human. It's pathetic. If I didn't think you'd make a good bitch, I wouldn't bother with you."
Your eyebrows go up in surprise, this couldn't be Arthur. This had to be the other side of him speaking... This was the wolf. You don't reply, knowing if you tried to speak only whimpers would tumble out. Arthur brushes a finger against your core, and you clench upon instinct.
"None of that, sweetheart. You're being such a good girl. It'd be a shame if you ruined that now, wouldn't it?" he sneers.
You bite your lip, feeling the pressure of his finger against your entrance. Much to your surprise, it is no longer clawed. He delves the digit into you, and you have to stop yourself from whining. You had never felt something this intense, and you were beginning to wonder if you would survive this.
You're not sure how long or how many fingers he presses into you before you hear his belt buckle clank to the ground.
Your arms had long since given out, and the left side of your face was smushed down. You hear more rustling from behind you, and you know what's next.
You shut your eyes with a deep inhale.
Two massive clawed hands find your waist, and flip you onto your back.
You want to scream at the sight of Arthur.
He had fully turned. Ā
It's then that you notice, he can't seem to keep himself away from you. He's shoving your knees apart with his own, and his face nears yours dangerously. It's without warning that he enters you, and you nearly scream.
It wasn't nearly as painful as the time you had been stabbed, no... It was the factor of surprise that had you wailing out. Tears prick the corner of your eyes, and you almost thank him when he stops moving. He is completely seated within you.
You can't stop yourself from trying to claw away from him, but his grip on your hips keeps you from escaping.
It takes everything within you not to sob when he presses a kiss to your lips. A growl rumbles from behind Arthur's teeth, and you know that he is only waiting on you.
The wolf was being nice and you weren't cooperating.
After a moment, you give him the 'go-ahead' nod.
You can't say you're expecting him to be gentle, but you're certainly not expecting him to pull entirely out of you to slam back into you. Finally, a tear slips out and rolls down your cheek. It only seems to spur the wolf into taking you harder than before.
The sound of skin against skin echos in the cellar. He brings his hips down and down again. There was still a gentle hint of Arthur beneath the tough exterior. You felt it because of the way he couldn't seem to keep his mouth off of you.
When the tears stopped, he moved on to bruising your lips with his own. You were going to suffocate if he kept this up. He breaks free of your lips, nudging his face between your shoulder and neck. Your ear tingles at the feeling of his soft huffs of air.
He lets out a groan, pressing wet kisses into the side of your neck.
"Say you're only mine," he demands from behind clenched teeth. His chest was brushing against your breasts with every rock of his hips. "Say it!"
"I'm yours, only yours," you chant. "I want only want you."
You had been convinced he was going to tear you in half, not five minutes earlier... Now, you were beginning to think you were made for Arthur.
He drags his tongue against the shell of your ear, giving you an affectionate lick. The words seemed to had pleased him, and you almost swore his guard came down for just a split second. He settles back to marking your neck, and you glance downwards. His body was glistening with sweat, and his nails were digging into your sides.
He had you captured, almost like you were his prey.
Arthur's thrusts never weaken, never slow. He fucks you with abandon, and you can only try to roll your hips upwards to match his pace. If it wasn't for his grip on your sides, you might've flown to the other side of the cell already. Your hands are helplessly grasping onto him, one hand is against his shoulder and the other is tangled into his locks.
"That's right," he hisses between thrusts. "You love this, don't you? After this, you're going to spend every minute you can wrapped around my cock, aren't you?"
You moan, feeling the coil inside of you begin to spark.
Arthur snaps his hips into you a little harder, demanding a response.
It takes a moment for you to shake yourself out of your daze, but when you do, you're crying his name. "Yes! Arthur, always. If you want it, I'll give it to yo-"
You squeak in pleasure, the sentence gets cut off. Arthur's fingers have found your clit, and he's rolling the tight nub in circles. Your head lolls backward, and you feel your muscles begin to seize up. You swear he feels bigger now than he did when he began fucking you.
You wanted this, you wanted to be his. There was no going back after this.
It takes only a few more rolls of your clit beneath his fingers for you to come. Your legs tighten around him, locking him to you. You swear you hear him giggle at the action, but you could be imagining it. Your eyes nearly bug out of your head as his canines sink into your neck.
You have to stop yourself from wiggling out of his grasp. You feel the tears from earlier build back up, and you bite your bottom lip hard enough to break the skin.
When he finally pulls away from your neck, it feels like venom is shooting into your veins. You wince as he drags his tongue over the wound, carefully. Arthur finally groans, his thrusting turning into grinding. You were like a ragdoll in his grip, trying to catch your breath.
You're so focused on the burning of your neck, you don't notice what's happening below. When you do, you're clambering upwards.
Arthur lifts his head from your neck, trying to see what you're doing. He notices your eyes of horror and his hands find your wrists. "Stop!" he commands.
You try to listen, eyes darting between him and your lower half.
"What is-" you try to ask, voice raspy and torn.
He shakes his head, using a hand to brush back your hair. "It's normal for werewolves, I should've warned you," he finally says. He grips your chin, forcing you to lock eyes with him.
"It'll be okay," he states.
His eyes are watering and he keeps blinking slowly.
For some reason, you trust him. You trust his words, even after what had just happened. He presses a kiss against your lips, and you let your lips meld to his. Arthur's eyes are unfocused, and his expression makes him appear blissed out. It's clear that he's still not thinking clearly, and is gliding within the edge of his release.
He was filling you up to your brim, locking himself to you.
He lazily kisses you again, but you break away with a wince. He keeps dragging your attention away from your lower half, distracting you with kisses. It feels like forever before he slides out of you...
He cleans the two of you up, with the little that he did have.
"What now?" you mumble, not sure how to voice your concern.
"The nights not over with yet. Depending on my wolf, we'll fit in one more round. Then we're going to escape, and we'll go our separate ways," he replies, looking at you blankly.
Your heart almost stops when the last part comes out... After all this... No.
"You want to go separate ways?" you dumbly ask.
"Only if that's what you want," he says and peers at you. A spark of hope in his eyes betrays him, though. He was giving you an exit, he was giving you the option to leave him... Even though he would always be chained to you.
"I guess when we get out of here, we can go on a proper date. Does that sound okay with you?" you ask, a smile blooming on your lips.
You already knew his answer, but the way he smiles back confirmed it.
A/N: Thank you for reading! This is only my second RDR2 fanfic. Iām sorry if Arthur seemed very ooc in this. The MC of this story also kinda flipped personalities. I wrote this roughly two months ago, but just finished it tonight. Itās 4am. So, ignore the errors if you can. Thank you <3
Send in requests!Ā My ask box is open!
