Summary: He's scared he's gonna hurt you
Warning: Low honor Arthur, Beastar au, wolf and bunny, love, angst, mention of hurting, predator and prey, soft.
As usual, I'm sorry if there are any wrong sentences or typos or grammatical mistakes, please forgive me and again English is not my first language, so I try to improve my language and writing in this way.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
He didn’t mean to fall for you.
How could he not, though?
You were soft in a world that asked you to be small. Brave in ways only prey could understand — showing up, smiling, offering kindness without armor.
You laughed at his gruffness. Sat next to him at the market. Gave him an apple once and called it even when he saved you from a wild dog two streets over.
But love?
Love was something Arthur never let himself want.
Especially not with you.
Arthur Morgan was a wolf, and he carried it like a curse.
He knew what people said — about instincts, about “control,” about how even good predators had limits.
He knew what he felt when you leaned too close. The way his nose flared without permission. The way his claws flexed when he caught the scent of your fur after the rain.
He knew how easy it would be to hurt you.
Not because he wanted to.
But because it would take nothing.
A slip.
A breath too deep.
A night too long.
And you’d be gone — a smear of red in his hands, and nothing left of the girl who smiled at him like he wasn’t built to destroy.
So he pushed you away.
Not cruelly.
Just… enough.
He stopped meeting your gaze. Walked slower when you tried to catch up. Didn’t respond when you asked if he was okay.
You noticed. Of course you did.
“Did I do something wrong?” you asked one night, ears drooped slightly, voice low.
Arthur didn’t look at you. Couldn’t.
“No.”
“Then why won’t you look at me?”
He swallowed hard. The fire crackled between you.
“You’re a rabbit,” he said simply. “And I’m a wolf.”
Your brow furrowed. “So?”
“So I’m not safe.”
You stepped forward — tiny steps, deliberate. Unafraid.
“You’ve never hurt me.”
“Yet,” he muttered.
You reached out. Took his hand.
He flinched — not from you, but from himself.
“I’m not asking for perfection,” you whispered. “I’m asking for the truth.”
He met your eyes then. And you saw it — not hunger. Not danger.
But fear.
Fear of himself.
Fear of loving something so delicate, so precious — and one day, losing control.
“I think about it all the time,” he admitted. “How easy it’d be to hurt you. How much I’d hate myself for it.”
Your thumb brushed his knuckles.
“Then don’t,” you said gently. “Just… don’t. Love me softer. Hold me carefully. Be the wolf who chooses not to bite.”
His throat worked. His claws trembled. But he didn’t pull away.
“…I don’t deserve you.”
“Maybe not,” you said. “But I’m here. And I’m not afraid of you, Arthur.”
The silence between you filled with something new.
Not safety. Not certainty.
But hope.
And that night, under the stars, he pulled you close — slow, gentle, his heartbeat loud enough for you both — and you let him hold you like a prayer he was too scared to speak.
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ᴍᴜʟᴛɪғᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇ | ᴏʟᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴇᴡ ғɪᴄs ғʀᴏᴍ ᴍʏ ɴᴏᴛᴇs
FanfictionWell, it's a group of one shots, preferences and imagines that I wrote on Tumblr and notes before so I'll post them here so that my work won't be lost if I can't open my Tumblr or i accidentally delete my notes. So here you go! Warning: Warnings are...
