Arthur Morgan

Arthur’s lips broke into a cheeky smirk each and every time he glanced at you, obviously finding it hilarious that you, a man, were dressed as a woman. Your friendship with Arthur was a warm one, so you were rather aware he wasn’t being rude. With all the women in camp busy, you didn’t have much of a choice but to dress up.

“That dress looks a bit small for you, ma’am.” He chuckled, that same dorky smirk stuck to his lips. His hand was on your lower back, doing his best at acting as if this was more intimate than it was. The jokes kept coming.