#rollingrog

Would you just look at those guns biceps 🥵

And that smile 😍

Good Jaysus I'm melting 🔥

Arthur Morgan x Reader | Imagine #3

Summary: After getting all dressed up for a day on the town, you need Arthur's help getting off a corset.

Category: Fluff, Sexual Tension.

A/N: This is just a little drabble. These imagines aren't based on a specific storyline. I'm also taking Arthur requests, so please feel free to message me, or send an ask with the details.

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It had been a long day. One of the longest days since you joined the gang. Most people would consider a whole day of shootouts, riding, and robbing as exhausting, but what did it for you was actually having to get gussied up like a proper woman.

You had spent most of the day in town with Karen and Mary-Beth, making contacts and getting info on places that could be broken into, or men that could be bamboozled into giving over valuables. You had spent the time in town inhabiting the saloon, making aquantinces with drunken business men and pickpocketing them when they had their heads turned.

You had borrowed one of Mrs. Grimshaw's dresses, with a corset that had been tightly cinched to your waist, complete with a pair of heels. "If you're gonna reel 'em in, you're gonna have to show yourself off." Mrs. Grimshaw had said.

It was safe to say when you got back to camp, you were exhausted, with a sore waist and toes, all you wanted to do was put on your regular clothes and lay down. You loved the way these clothes made you look, but nothing about them was comfortable. But it wasn't all for nothing, you had pocketed a handsome $85 from the whole ordeal.

So, here you stood inside of your tent, desperately fighting with your hands behind your back to try and loosen the tightly knotted laces of the corset. After more than a few failed attempted to untie it, you tried to unhook the front clasps, but it was no use. It was hugging your body so tightly that it was impossible to do without breaking it, and you knew Mrs. Grimshaw wouldn'ttake kindly to you ruining one of her garments. You huffed a sigh of frustration as you kicked off your heels.

As you stood there, a wicked idea quickly came into mind. You honestly did need help getting it off, and who better to ask than Arthur? You were told to show off what you had, and who better to show it off than to the man whose attention you actually wanted, and If anything was bound to get that man's attention, it had to be this. You smiled to yourself as you left your tent, sauntering next door to his You knocked on one of the wooden beams that held the canvas up.

"C'mon in." His deep tone sounded from inside.

You pulled back the heavy cloth of the enteance, poking your head through first to catch your first glimpse of him. He was lounging on his cot, writing in his journal as he usually did this time of the evening.

"May I trouble you for some help, Arthur?"

"Sure. What can I help ya with?" He spoke in his unique southern drawl. The one that never failed to make you melt whenever he spoke.

You chewed the side of your lip as you finally stepped through to the inside. When he finally looked up from his journal, you could see it as his eyes widened slightly. He could barely take his gaze off of you as he set his journal down and stood up, taking a step forward until he was in front of you. You could feel your heartbeat quicken as he stood directly in front of you now.

You let out a small, nervous laugh. "For the life of me, I can't get this corset off. Would you mind?" You swallowed.

Arthur looked down at you for a moment, drinking in every bit of you, seemingly without any shame. Of course you didn't mind, this is what you wanted, and he had never seen you looking as good as he had right at this very moment. You could feel yourself starting to turn red the longer he studied you.

"Arthur?" You finally asked again.

He chuckled, throwing his head to the ground, shaking it before he met your eyes again. "I'm sorry, (Y/N). Ya jus'- ya jus' look real nice. Never seen ya all fixed up like this before. I mean, I always think ya look nice, but this.. Jus' new to me."

It felt like a thousand stallions were stampeding through your chest when he said that. You felt like your heart might just burst through at any moment.

"Thank you, Arthur," you breathed, a geuine smile tugging at the corner's of your lips.

"'Course." He abruptly cleared his throat, nodding, "What do, uh, you want me to do?"

"Oh." You laughed, turning your back to him, "Loosen up these laces, please."

There were quite a few other answers you wanted to give him to that question, but just having him touching you in this way was gonna be damn near more than your body could handle.

Arthur gave you a nod as he took another step closer to you. He was standing directly behind you now, and you could have sworn you felt his breath on the back of your neck. You felt the first few lingering touches of his fingers as he grabbed for the laces, and even that small amount of contact set your body on fire. You felt him as he slowly worked at laces, pulling them apart faster than you would have been able to do. He curled his finger beneath the criss-cross pattern of the laces, pulling at them to loosen the corset. You could feel every single time that his large fingers brushed against your back.

You had to forcibly stop yourself from letting out a moan, between the feeling of his fingers making chills run down your spine, and the sheer relief from having the tightly binding garment loosened up. A small, whimpering sigh finally escaped your lips, and you closed your eyes tightly, praying that he hadn't heard it. But once the corset was loosened up enough, you could feel Arthur's hands lingering on your sides. You smirked to yourself as you turned back around to face him, his fingers were still lightly lingering on your sides.

"The clasps," you breathed. You looked up at him longingly, chewing the inside of you cheek.

You watched Arthur take in a steadying breath of his own as he brought his hands up to the busk, working his fingers between the thick material of the corset and your dress, his hands were resting right below the swell of your breasts now as he unhooked each one of the clasps more slowly than the last.

God, all you wanted him to do now was to take you, all of you. You just wanted so desperately to feel his touch, his skin against yours.

He undid the last of the clasps, and you were finally free from the confines of it. He pulled the corset away from your body, holding it in his hands as he continued to look down at you, only taking his eyes away every few moments to give a break to the intensity of the moment. The place was silent, neither of you knowing what to say next. The tension in the air was palpable, and you almost had the nerve to jerk him down towards you and kiss him hard.

Arthur let out a gruff sigh. He lifted his hand as if he wanted to reach our for you, but he dropped it just a quickly, the thought changing in his mind as he handed the corset over to you instead. You took it from his hands, giving his a grateful expression.

"I thank you for that, Mr. Morgan." You gazed back up at him, flashing him a coy grin.

"Ya know I don't mind, darlin'." There was an alluring expression on his face now.

You definitely wanted more, but just having him do this to you was heartstopping enough. It would probably take some time to get this cowboy completely out of his shell, but you had all the time in the world, and he was well worth it.

You laid your hand gently on his should as you stepped towards the entrance, feeling his muscles flex beaneath the surface at your touch. "Goodnight, Arthur."

"Goodnight, (Y/N)," he answered.

He turned in your direction, watching you as you stepped out of the tent, following behind you to peer out of the opening, watching you as you made your way next door to your own tent. He admired the natural curvature of your body, and the way your hips swayed when you walked. His own breathing and heartrate had just now began to slow down since you first arrived inside of his tent. Seeing you the way you were tonight just about left him damn near breathless. He ran his hand over his beard as he sighed, stepping back over to his cot to plop down onto it.

"God Almighty," he said to himself. He shook his head again as he grabbed his journal off the thin mattress. "That girl is gonna be the death'a me."

Peter ain't got no chill 😂