#Lemuel fike

[paranormaljones]

been thinking about my most obscure beloved blorbo, Lemuel Fike. he is a character that exists in a handful of cutscenes and quests in the Moonshiner role in Red Dead Online. he's the most guyfailure a man can be. he's the fbi's most hated idiot. he's in county jail when we first hear of him. we have to break him out of a prison wagon during his transfer to a high security prison, presumably because this man has a habit of screwing everything up for himself but also for everyone around him. the fbi cannot encounter this man without losing upwards of 20-30 agents every time and he's not even the one who kills them. his crimes include running moonshine, escaping state custody, running bail, and of course tax evasion. he has the saddest most down-turned basset hound eyes you've ever seen on a man and a nose that looks like it's been broken at least three times. he steals a river boat and gets shot at by a train full of stinkertons. he explodes a swamp on accident. he looks like he hasn't slept in eight years and acts like he's on eight shots of espresso at all times. he has no powers of discernment. he cannot keep his mouth shut. there is no good reason why he's still alive. i want to marry him so bad.

[saintemarvel]

Mary-Beth, Harriet, Lem & Kieran

[norafike]

I need to come back as the ceo of lem fike content

[lady-boketto]

Difference in Taste! (Random Drabble)

A/n: Honestly this was one of those random scenarios that pop up in your head and unlike the other ones I had to write this one out, I also included a lot of characters so I put it under the cut

It's one of those rare afternoons where you have the pleasure of passing the time not really doing anything but relishing in the peaceful comfort of your home with your beloved partner.

Not wanting to waste the opportunity of your significant other's already sparse time, you were determined to spend some quality time with them as you thought the day was perfect for a outdoor picnic with bright blue skies and the temperatures being well above the average day, yet the day was still accompanied by a slight breeze with the warm summer air.

As you walked with your arm linked with your partner through the field you both wandered into, your eyes scanned the surrounding for a perfect spot to set up your picnic blanket when your irises catch a nearby oak tree that is providing a nice umbrella of shade.

With the blanket set up nicely in the shade of oak tree, your significant other is already starting to unpack all your belongings and placing them down eagerly on the soft fabric of the blanket, clearly overjoyed to relax with their love one while also enjoying the food the both of you had spent the better part of the morning preparing.

while in their warm embrace you decide to fill the silence with mindless conversation, it's mostly what has captured your attention that day (whether it's mindless banter or enticing gossip you have to tell, your significant other is always listening with a smile with on their face while trying to keep the conversation to the best of their ability) while in the middle of answering your previous thought of what would be the most diabolical smash or pass topic, you think of a another thought that would hopefully shake your partner's thoughts and they finally stumble over their words.

" How do you think I'd taste? what you you think?"

Those whose minds thought you meant food wise:

JJK: Kiyotaka Ijichi, Utahime Iori, Yuta, Miwa, Takuma Ino, Mahito

AOT: Zeke, Annie, Bertholdt, Mikasa, Hange

Inuyasha: Ayame, Ginta, Hakkaku, Inuyasha, Kikiyo, Sango

CoD: Gaz, Konig, Roze, Kleo, Gus, Farah, Soap

Demon Slayer: Mitsuri, Giyuu, Rengoku, Kanae, Akaza, Daki, Makio

RDR2: Arthur, John, Bill, Molly, Kieran, Mary-Beth, Lenny, Swanson, Pearson, Mary, Lemuel Fike

Those who are confused on how to answer because they understand both meanings:

JJK: Nanami, Nobara, Megumi, Maki, Mai, Noritoshi, Choso

AOT: Erwin, Levi, Onyankopon

Inuyasha: Kagome, Kagura, Sesshomaru

CoD: Price, Ghost, Rodolfo, Chuy, Laswell, Alex

Demon Slayer: Urokodaki, Tamayo, Gyomei, Kagaya Ubuyashiki, Kokushibo, Hinatsuru, Obanai

RDR2: Abigail, Charles, Hosea, Trelawny, Sadie, Grimshaw, Tilly, Black Belle, Bonnie

Those whose minds went straight into the gutter:

JJK: Gojo, Yuji, Shoko Ieiri, Toji, Geto, Yuki Tsukumo, Mei Mei, Inumaki, Todo, Naoya

AOT: Armin, Jean, Colt, Reiner, Porco, Eren, Mike, Conny

Inuyasha: Hiten, Jakotsu, Koga, Miroku, Naraku, Toga

CoD: Nova, Alejandro, Enzo Reyes, Horangi, Valeria, Graves, Makarov

Demon Slayer: Shinobu, Uzui, Sanemi, Shinjuro, Muzan, Doma, Gyutaro, Suna

RDR2: Dutch, Javier, Karen, Micah, Sean, Eagle Flies, Flaco, Madam Nazar

[paranormaljones]

OOOOO let's go \^o^/

(these are in no particular order of favoritism, just as i think of them)

Lemuel Fike (Red Dead Online) your honor im love him

Lucy Carlyle (Lockwood & Co.)

Josh Segal (Trial & Error) your honor i just met him and im love him

Reaper (The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes)

Wirt (Over The Garden Wall)

Endeavour Morse (Endeavour) literally always thinking about him

Haymitch Abernathy (The Hunger Games) listen i know i technically already did a Hunger Games character but consider: Haymitch

Joyce Byers (Stranger Things) i do miss her

Mike Schmidt (Five Nights At Freddy's movie) he lives in my brain

Torbek (Legends of Avantris) favorite sad garbage character XD

tagging (with no pressure): @brievel @swinging-stars-from-satellites @so-true-jestie @impossible-stargirl @avelinageorge (i can never remember off the top of my head which of my friends enjoy tag games so i apologize if you don't and i tagged you)

tagged by @mademoiseli for the ten characters, ten fandoms, ten tags (probably won’t be ten of them since I don’t follow that many people who do tag games :}.)

Tori (Nikki) Beaugrand. (Quicksilver)

Melchior. (Two Monarchies Sequence)

Ned Henry (and Cyril, I loved Cyril). (To Say Nothing of the Dog)

Morwen. (the Enchanted Forest Chronicles)

Finnick Odair. :’( (The Hunger Games)

Attolia Irene. (The Queen’s Thief)

Ripred. (The Underland Chronicles)

Harry Crewe. (The Blue Sword)

Cassandra Cain. (DC Comics)

Mogget. (The Old Kingdom Series)

tagging @paranorahjones, @story-courty, @dangerously-human, @fairytale-lights, and @zelzahdarkcloak.

[uh-0h-spaghettio]

Barmaid blues

Are y’all interested in more of May? Tbh I’m a new tumblr user and I’ve just been kinda going with it but i would love an excuse to dive deeper into my character and the rdr2 fandom in general

[bells-kitchen]

A Meeting With The Fike's

Word count; 739

Characters; Lemuel Fike, RDO Character, Micah Bell

Micah scowled as he looked up at the sign to the shop Mary-Beth recommended him to go. Clearly whoever was in charge of decorating liked their flowers, decorating almost every corner and sign they could.

He hated the abundance of bright colours that casted down upon him, but with Kieran's party coming up there wasn't many places left for him to buy decent alcohol and apparently Mary-Beth knew the shop owners, went to the same college as one of them. Not that he really cared.

Inside was just as bright and awful as the outside but now he could see every crack and damage on the walls. A home, or rather shop, that was barely able to hold itself up. Micah wondered how any of this was suitable for someone to live in, let alone work.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, looking around the poorly decorated shop front. There wasn't anyone here who could help him, a completely abandoned shopfront with no alarms. Whoever ran this place had a great amount of faith, given Micah could so easily scope out whatever bottle of wine he wanted and just take it. Hell, he would have done just that but thinking about how disappointed Kieran would be, even Mary-Beth, had him resist the urge for now. To top it off, these people knew his friend and so if he were to successfully steal a bottle it wouldn't be long before someone found out who did it.

Approaching the front counter, he spotted the bell and rang it a couple times and soon enough people had emerged from the back room, looking slightly dishevelled. The person who had approached the counter was a man just a few years younger than he was and in lots of ways he reminded Micah of Kieran, they looked similar and had that same nervous smile about them. Although, this individuals hair was far shorter and lighter.

"Sorry a-about that, sir," the man said with a smile, "didn't hear the door go an' we don't exactly get many customers come in."

"Well, had a friend recommend this place to me. She says this is the best place for me to buy wine," Micah explained, "you got a name by chance?"

The man nodded gently, "Lem and this" -he pointed at his female friend, "this is Nora."

Micah noticed the way he said her name and how his lips curled up into a small smile, they locked eyes for a moment and he began to shift back and forth on his feet awkwardly. "Well," he interrupted, "you got anything good for a birthday?"

Lem nodded slowly, turning towards the shelf behind him where there was multiple bottles on display. He perused the labels before settling on a certain type, pulling it off of the shelf and handing it over to Micah, "this should do."

"Thanks," he said before digging through his pocket for his wallet, "how much?"

"Nine dollars," Lem answered. Micah spluttered when he heard the price, not quite believing his ears. He was, afterall, used to buying cheap wine.

"What the hell you charging that for?" to say Micah felt a little insulted an understatement. He wasn't even sure why this was such a big deal, but he hadn't expected to spend so much on just the one item.

"Unfortunately that's the best I can do," Lem explained. Even he looked a little annoyed, although Micah wasn't sure if that was his neutral face or not.

Micah looked between both of Lem and Nora's faces before sighing, befofe he wouldn't give two shits about a lot of things and yet a part of him began to pity these people. He would have argued about the price until they grew tired, but for some strange reason Micah's attitude had changed dramatically. The place was rundown and he could respect anyone who was just trying to make a living out in these unprecedented times. "Alright give me a second bottle, same stuff," he grunted.

Lem nodded slowly before pulling a second bottle off of the shelf and handing it over. Micah had to place the bottles down so his hands were free, digging out the money and a little more to pay for the product. "See ya," he grumbled.

They were nice people, he thought as soon as he left the shop but he would be damned if he had let them take eighteen-dollars from his pocket again.

[living-in-headcanon]

A **~dreamy~** Lem for @norafike

[miss-atomic-blog]

Most recent commission! For @semetarythings of her character & Lem!

[charlotte-balfours-garden]

more oc lore! a follow-up to whatever this is

(@artimator your tag about wanting more eli stories was enough to get me writing, so thank you! <3)

***

He wakes in a dark room that smells faintly of alcohol.

The muted sounds of drunk voices and lively music seep through the thin floorboards and - whenever a particularly gaudy chord is played - make the bed he’s lying in vibrate ever so slightly. He can painfully feel every heartbeat in his head, accompanied by a rhythmic throbbing somewhere in his stomach area, and is somehow aware of every damn bone in his body.

Stomach’s not a good body part to catch a bullet with. But at least his heart is still beating, that’s for sure.

He hazily remembers revenue agents, far too many, and a long night of riding. Riding where? The pillow is soft and he’s quite certain there are four walls around him, and a roof over his head.

Where?

Soon he falls into a troubled sleep again, plagued by dreams of wolves and dynamite, and when he wakes a second time, the throbbing has spread to his chest. Last time he felt like this (close to this, at least) was the morning after the grand opening of the moonshine bar, some months ago. Just like back then, the sound of early bird songs is now shrilling in his ears.

He opens his eyes.

The room is less dark now, and also less blurry than before. Groaning, he turns his head to determine his exact location. A chair in the corner, a wardrobe, flimsy curtains letting in the first light of a new day, a familiar coat on the coat rack by the door. Maggie’s coat. The moonshine shack. Explains the ungodly noises from the basement.

Without thinking much, he lifts the thin blanket to have a look at this aching torso. It’s a strange relief to see he’s still wearing his drawers, as if modesty was the thing that mattered most right now. He’s not exactly surprised by the cotton bandages wrapped tightly around his entire upper body, stained a grisly reddish-brown just below his left ribs. With a whispered oof he lets the merciful cover fall down again. Someone cared well for him. The thought hurts.

There’s a knock on the door and before Eli can say anything, Lem sticks his head into the room.

“Oh!” he exclaims and disappears again.

Water.

Eli carefully props himself up on his elbows. The pain isn’t as bad as he had feared, the headache on the other hand… Just when he has managed the arduous task of pushing back the blanket and swinging his legs over the side of the bed, the door opens again and Maggie bursts into the small room, followed closely by Lem.

“Finally! I sure thought we’d lost you for good.”

Eli shrugs and attempts a half-smile. “How long…?” His voice breaks.

“About three days, I believe. Here, put this on, it’s one of Lem’s old shirts. It’s going to be far too large for you, but I couldn’t get all the blood out of yours.

“‘s okay. Thanks.”

“Not to mention the hole. You’re lucky it was a clean shot and I could get the bullet out quickly.”

“Mh-mh.” Putting on the checkered flannel shirt surprisingly hurts worse than (half) getting out of bed, and it takes longer, too. As predicted, it’s a very loose fit, but the fabric is soft and dry and that’s all he could ever ask for.

“How do you feel?” Lem asks from behind Maggie.

“Okay. I’m-” He makes a vague gesture toward his bare shins.

Maggie nudges Lem with her elbow. “Get the boy his pants. They’re still by the fireplace.”

Lem nods and disappears again, and Maggie sits down on the chair. “Do you think you can walk? It’s easier to put on pants standing up.”

She hands him her cane and when he pushes himself up from the mattress, the world goes blurry again. He takes a deep breath and, when the dizziness is gone, manages to hobble all the way to the kitchen table where Lem already awaits him with his good black pants. Supported on both sides by the Fikes, dressing himself has never felt more humiliating, but it works. Maggie hands him his boots, and suddenly he feels whole again. Exhausted, he collapses on a chair. The kitchen is as cozy as ever, lit by the fireplace and the first sunrays, warmed by the stove, the smell of beans and meat in the air. He can see his duster coat still hanging to dry by the fire, good thing he’d chosen the black one, for it too was certainly stained quite badly.

“Well done,” Maggie smiles, “you’re back from the dead.”

Lem puts down a steaming bowl of stew and a glass of water on the table in front of him. It’s a simple gesture. Eli almost tears up.

He empties the glass in one go, and it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.

He doesn’t particularly feel like eating, but he knows the wobbly feeling in his legs is most likely caused by three days of involuntary fasting and not the gunshot wound. The stew doesn’t taste like much. It does him good, though, and as the warmth spreads inside of him, he can feel the headache slowly ebb away.

Both Lem and Maggie watch him intently, and when he finishes the bowl and gives them what he hopes is a cheery smile, Lem clears his throat.

“So,” - he wrings his hands, barely able to contain his grin - “there’s actually a little surprise for you.”

“For me?” He doesn’t want any more surprises. He wants to go back to bed and sleep for another three days.

“Yeah. I know you mentioned a few times you had a dog back at your camp, and well, look who showed up yesterday.”

He slowly opens the door that leads to the stairway and all Eli can make out is a flash of brown and white fur, and then Alba is all over him, climbing into his lap, licking his face and neck, only to jump down again and repeat the process. “Alba!” Eli laughs, trying to get hold of her and failing, “Good girl! No! Not the face! My girl!”

Once or twice she pushes against his abdomen and it explodes with pain, but he doesn’t care. The dog’s energy is contagious, and when she finally comes to rest in his lap, limp from excitement, her nose in his face, he thinks it has never felt so good to hold a living, breathing thing. He has to strain his neck to look past the foxhound’s shoulder and over to Maggie and Lem. “How did she find us?”

Maggie shrugs. “No idea. But she sure as hell woke the whole house with her scratching on the front door yesterday.”

“Except for me.”

“Well, I think you’re sufficiently excused. Oh, before I forget. There’s another thing.” She walks over to her desk and returns with a letter. “Lem collected it at the Valentine post office.”

“For me?” he asks again, stupidly. The only letters he ever receives are from Madam Nazar or sometimes Cripps, but this one looks different. The envelope is shabbier than those by Nazar, and less shabbier than those by Cripps, and the paper inside of it seems to weigh quite heavy.

“Elijah Ira Flanagan. That’s your name, ain’t it?” Maggie long knows that reading isn’t exactly his strong suit, so she opens the envelope without hesitation and starts to read aloud.

Within seconds, Eli feels a nausea he had long thought overcome.

Gently, he pushes Alba off his legs and after some protesting, she comes to rest with her head on his knee, drenching his freshly washed pants in drool, looking up to him with her quiet, brown eyes. Eli doesn’t return the trusty gaze. He stares into the fire, transfixed by the dancing flames and the words he hears.

… found myself back in these parts of the country … heard you have made quite a name for yourself … a lot has happened since then, almost none of it good … doesn’t feel the same without you ...

Maggie’s steady voice and the crackling of the fire make for an intriguing background noise as Eli remembers:

A hand wrapped tightly around his own.

A gun to his head.

A knife to his face.

Fuck.

Maggie reads and reads, a smirk on her lips and an eyebrow slightly raised, and all he wants to do is to slap the letter out of her hands or better, toss it straight into the fire.

All he does is blush.

When she folds the letter again, the last words hang heavy in the room, always yours, and a name he’d never wanted to hear or read again. He knows exactly what it must look like on the paper - big, clumsy letters, slanted to the right.

“Well,” Lem says from where he stands leaning against a kitchen cupboard, but before he can continue voicing whatever pointless thought he wants to release into the world, Eli gets up and makes for the door, Alba at his heels, tail wagging. He ignores the screaming pain in his side, and the nausea, and when the world goes blurry again, he wipes away a tear. He hears Lem call after him, followed by a vigorous Let him from Maggie.

Once the front door is open, the cool morning air hits him like a brick wall.

A deep breath.

Another one.

Life returning to his bones.

Dawn. A new beginning.

It’s gonna be fine.

Deep breath.

It’s a beautiful day, probably the most wretched one of his life. So far.

He turns around the house’s corner and relief washes over him as he sees Pepper tied to the hitching rail, munching on tough grass, waiting to take him somewhere far, far away. Again.

It’s gonna be fine.

[paranormaljones]

My newest project has begun.

Introducing Destry Cole, dog of war.

[saintemarvel]

Lem got a new shirt 

[norafike]

Part of me debates returning to Despite All This, I Still Love You—rewrite it maybe, not sure... been missing Lem and Nora a lot lately.

[billythecryptid]

Lemuel Fike/F!Reader

Lem comes up with a plan that involves you and a tree, everything is great until it's time to... get down from the tree. But don't worry our loveable little nerd baby is there to help.

I just love Lem so goddamn much

I've replayed the moonshine missions so many times.

I whipped this together in about an hour so judge lightly.

Also... please just accept that Pishawing is a verb and also don't start with me about how you can't use the word card when you are describing someone running their fingers through someones hair.

Just enjoy the Lem content

<p>There was something enduring about Lemuel that despite the many tight situations he’s gotten not only himself, but you in as well made you readily agree to just about anything he suggests. </p>

<p> So now here you are perched up in a goddamn pine tree, Lem himself boosting you up to the first branch which was above your head, you shakily climbing the rest until you could see across the valley. </p>

<p> “Now just tie yourself up there, make sure yer secure.” He calls up. </p>

<p> “Don’t gotta tell me twice,” You laugh nervously and suddenly Lem is doubting his plan. He’s never seen you as anything less than sure, confident, and uncomfortably calm in sticky situations. Compared to all that you sound terrified. </p>

<p> “Maybe we should-”</p>

<p> “Lemuel Fike!” You snap. “My ass is already up here, now go get into position.” </p>

<p> “Yes, yes, of course,” he flushes. “I will come back for you I promise.” </p>

<p> “I know you will,” you reply softer. “See you in a bit.”</p>

<p> “See you in a bit.” He repeats. </p>

<p>You slip your prized rifle off your back, and set it up so it rests on another branch. Peering through the sight, he was right, there was another moonshine camp not too far from your shack and a road block not too much further. Then you see Lem, tearing through the camp on his horse faster than you’ve ever seen, in fact you don’t think you even thought he had it in him. But there he goes, you watch his back like a hawk, taking out anyone who even reaches for their gun. You aim mostly at their hands and they become frantic trying to figure out where the shots come from. Lem makes it through and you feel yourself relax a little, and force yourself to wait, knowing they have to chase him as part of the plan. You gotta say it’s pretty clever, as goofy as Lem is he comes up with some interesting ideas. They follow him right through to the road block where the revenu men let him right through, opening fire on the Moonshiners, who start shooting back. It’s a bloodbath, but Lem is clear. You pick off a few of each, making sure everyone is down. </p>

<p>“Hey,” Lem calls up. “How’s it going?”</p>

<p>“Yer a goddamn genius Lem,” you laugh, relieved to hear his voice again. </p>

<p>“I would not go as far as to say something like that…” he blushes, thankful you can’t see him before he moves to the base of the tree. You look down and immediately regret it. Your body freezing in fear as the ground looms far below you. “You can come… are you… are you okay?” he squints up at you, and even from far down below can tell you’ve gone pale.</p>

<p>“I... “ you swallow your pride, one hand clutching your rifle, the other clutching the closest branch to you. “I c’ain’t move Lem… I’m… I…” </p>

<p> “It’s alright, I am coming up,” and sure enough with agility you didn’t know he had in his gangly limbs he had scaled up the tree until he was on the branch below you. “Here, hand me your rifle, I will be careful with it I promise.” </p>

<p> Had you not been terrified of dying from your body hitting the ground you would have been touched by the careful way he took your most prized possession from you. “Alright, now I want you to turn onto your belly and put your legs down towards me. Can you do that?”</p>

<p>“No,” you whimper, closing your eyes tight, your newly freed hand gripping another branch. </p>

<p>“Hey listen,” he speaks gently. “The rope is tied to you and the tree, I won’t cut it until I got a hold on you, okay, you hear me?” You nod, eyes tightly closed. He places his hand on your knee and gives it a gentle squeeze.  “I’m right here alright?” His hands find your hips and you reach one hand out to touch his hand taking a deep breath. You slowly turn and he guides your leg down. You are now between him and the tree trunk and you feel him shift. “I’m going to cut the rope now okay?”</p>

<p> You feel sick with relief as you get to the last limb, Lem jumping down then turning and holding his arms up to you. You lean forward and let yourself fall, he catches you in his arms and the two of you are chest to chest. His hands on your waist from where he caught you and yours resting on his shoulders. </p>

<p> “There, safe and sound,” he hums, looking pleased with himself for getting you down in one piece. </p>

<p> “Thank you Lem, I don’t know what got into me.” You blush and he gently lets go of your waist. Your hands slip off his shoulders and down his arms where you can feel the muscles flexing beneath his soft flannel shirt. </p>

<p> “Everyone has got something they’re afraid of, “ he shrugs, then without thinking , brushes some pine needles free, tucking your hair back behind your ear. You're still gripping one of his upper arms. Both of you look down to your feet blushing, but instead of pulling away you squeeze his bicep, nervously looking up, breath hitching as you take in the way he’s looking at you. You swallow then lick your lips. </p>

<p>“I would very much like to kiss you right now,” he says. </p>

<p>“I would very much be okay with that,” you reply before he bends down as you lean up, your lips meeting in a shy, careful kiss, which you follow with another then a more firm, sure kiss, hands fisting in each other's shirts as it deepens. He cups the back of your head gently, as you tilt your head and open your mouth, inviting his tongue in. He moans into the kiss and you hook your fingers in his belt loops pulling his hips flush with yours as he backs you into the tree. </p>

<p> Your hands roam over his back, sides and chest as the kiss continues until you’re breathless and the world has grown almost too dark around you and the bugs start biting. </p>

<p> “We should be heading back, Maggie gets worried when I keep you out too late,” you tease lightly and he laughs leaning down and kissing you once more. You card your hand through his hair before resting your palm on his cheek. </p>

<p> “Thank you for saving me,” you sigh one last time. </p>

<p> “Please,” he pushaw’s “after all the times you’ve saved my sorry hide, it’s the least I can do.” </p>

<p>The two of you head back to Maggie’s hand and hand, making it back just as the sun sets. She’s waiting on the porch and you pull your hands apart, faces heating, but she only scoffs at the two of you, getting to her feet. </p>

<p> “Was wonderin’ when you two would quit with the longing looks and just get it together already,” she grumbles, heading inside. “Whatever you get up to, keep it in your tent out back…” She’s muttering to herself as the door shuts behind her, leaving you two severely red faced. </p>

<p> “I-uh…Aunt Mags...” Lemuel coughs through his embarrassment, “She’s always been rather presumptuous.” </p>

<p>“It don’ bother me none, I’ve always been an <em>Impetuous </em>sorta person,” you turn, looking up at him demurely, before hooking your fingers back into his belt loops, tugging him forward in a suggestive motion. He responds with another heated kiss, only stopping when Maggie comes back out to extinguish the lantern hanging by the door. </p>

<p>“I said keep it in your tent!”</p>

[that-wimpy-cowboy-doll]

Happy Valentine’s Day @journal-of-an-outlaw!  I was your @rdr-secret-cupid this year :) I hope you enjoy the fluffy smut below!  (I’m sorry if they’re a bit OOC, I haven’t played enough RDO to enjoy the Moonshiner route yet :P)

Summary: After getting into yet another scrape, Anastasia finds herself unable to put words to the feelings she gets from the man whose arms she always ends up in.  Lem always enjoys dancing with her to the band, but when they can finally be alone, Anna gets the chance to show him, rather than tell him, how she feels.

Some might say I talk loud, see if I care Unlike them, I don’t walk away from my fear I’ve busted bones, broken stones, looked the devil in the eye I hope he’s going to break these chains, oh yeah - “Broken Bones” by Kaleo

And I’ll always love you but I don’t have to sing it “For worse or for better” don’t rhyme They say I got the right one so now I should write one But I’d rather just show you tonight - “I Hate Love Songs” by Kelsea Ballerini

“This, uh...might sting.”

Anna sucked in a sharp breath as Lem trickled the thin stream of shine over her split knuckles.  It was another fight, it always was, and as often as her mouth and her fists got her into trouble, this one had felt more righteous than most.

The Lemoyne Raiders had had it out for Maggie since they’d first heard her name, the weight she had in the shine business.  Anastasia couldn’t tell whether it’d been luck, or fortune, maybe destiny that had led her to them in the saloon on the outskirts of Rhodes.  Each was about twice her size, but like the old saying went, the drunker they were the harder they fell.  Besides, she’d needed to let off some steam these days.  Do something that made her feel free, now that she could fly without the looming cloud of Hixon and his men.

And this...thing that she and Lem had been pussyfooting around the last few weeks.

“Who was it this time?” he said flatly, dabbing at the delicate scraped skin of her fist.  She wanted him to look at her, offering a grim smile to Roy, the feller who played the banjo at the shack on weekends.  Fuck, that was right, it was Friday.  The rest of the band was due any minute.

“Raiders.  Usual jackass sort.  Caught ‘em badmouthin’ Maggie, eyeballin’ me, like they knew she brought me in.”  She could feel the calluses of Lem’s hand wrapped around her wrist, on the pads of his fingertips while he finished patching her wound.

“You know, you - you don’t need to swing on every feller looks at you the wrong way, Anna,” Lem sighed, letting his cup of shine clink softly on the table.  He glanced over her shoulder to nod at the line of musicians trailing in.  There was something exhausted in his face, like her tiredness was catching.  It was her, she knew.  She knew her mouth moved faster than her brains, and her fists faster still than her mouth.

Anastasia moved to pull her hands away from Lem’s, straightening in her seat and bringing her drink to her lips.  “I should get behind the bar.  Folk are going to start showin’ up.”

But he reached for her still, leaning forward a little.  “Ain’t anybody here yet - even so, that feller you hired, Gil, Gil what’s-his-name - he’s got a handle on it.”  His blue eyes shone in the dim lamp light burning overhead; his thumbs were tracing tender circles over the places on her hands not marked by bruises.  “Dance with me.  While the band warms up.”

She was still jittery from the fight, her hair loose and messy, a little wild with the adrenaline shooting through her veins.  But now her heart was fluttering madly beneath her chest, screaming in her ribcage.  Something warm and heavy lived in her throat, making the words creak as they slipped from between her lips: “Y-yeah, okay.”

He guided her firm but gentle away from their little table by the bar, into the center of the wooden floor across from where Roy and his boys had set up.  She gave a little start when he held her by the waist, sliding her right hand on top of his left.  For someone usually so headstrong and assured of herself, having Lem hold her, touch her this way, so solemn and so gentlemanlike, Anna felt like she was liable to turn to jelly on the spot.

The band picked up at Shifty Simon the Pianist’s count, something moody and slow she hadn’t heard them play often.  Somewhere in the back of her head, Anastasia was aware of Gil serving someone at the bar, but when Lem lifted her arm to turn her in a steady circle, his eyes meeting hers in the low, warm light of the shack, his body so near to hers seemed to hold up the weight of the world.

“You are a hot head,” he whispered, his slick, sweet breath tickling the shell of her ear.  A jolt flickered to life in Anna’s stomach.  “A h-hotheaded, stubborn, impossible...wonderful woman.”  He was smiling against her, she could tell, the playful curve of his voice.  “And you’re gonna be the death of me, I swear it.  Bruised knuckles...”

“Lem - ”  She cleared her throat, blinking glassily up at him.  “I - I don’t - ”

“That’s alright.”  He took her chin between his thumb and index finger, like he was studying her from between those soft, long lashes of his.  The air around him - around them - seemed still, separate from the rest of the shack.  She realized a half a beat too late that now they’d slowed their dancing, that he was holding her more than he was moving, and she was letting herself be held.  “You - you don’t gotta say nothin’.”

“I want to,” she muttered, her eyes dropping from his, her hands tight near his collar.  “Lem, you know I ain’t as good at...at tellin’ you, but I…”

“It’s okay.”  His thumb brushed the plump curve of her lower lip, he was close enough now that she could practically taste the whiskey on his mouth, the light sprinkling of freckles on his cheeks looking soft beneath the buzz of the bulbs above them.  “You here, with me...that’s all I need.”

It was all she needed, too, his arms around her, until the customers began to trickle in and the band picked up.  She knew that Gil couldn’t handle so many of the regulars like she could, so, painstakingly, she pulled out of Lem’s arms with a whispered apology and what felt like a daring kiss to his cheek, before making her way back to the bar.

“You’se in head over heels, girl,” Gil said under his breath between pours, his mustache bristling with the smile that played across his lips.  “Best snatch that boy up, on account of he’s head over heels for you, too.”

“Shuddup, Gil,” Anna chuckled back, her cheeks going warm, but poured them each a drink, too.

Lem stayed until closing, returning to the bar to order himself a drink, and a dinner, and to fiddle with the bowls of almonds that Anna and Gil set out, not taking his hand away when Anna reached out to bat him playfully, instead catching her fingers between his and running his thumb across her palm until another customer came to ask for their next glass of shine.  Anna declared last call just after midnight, but thankfully most of her patrons looked as dead on their feet as she felt, clambering toward the door with wilting smiles on their faces.  Roy and the rest of the band packed up while she and Gil got to cleaning, Lem helping even when she shooed him and insisted he didn’t need to wait for her.

“I think I’m gon’ bank my hours,” Gil announced, wearing far too smug a smirk in Anastasia’s humble opinion, while there was still the sweeping to be done.  “You two stay outta trouble now, I’ll see y’all t’morrah.”

“N-night, Gil,” Lem called over his shoulder, already making his way toward the broom and the dustpan.

Anna counted out the cash she owed the band, pressing the bills into each member’s hand.  “Thanks, y’all.  We’ll see you soon?”

Roy returned her smile and offered her a gentle pat on the shoulder.  “Not a moment too soon.  You take care now, alright, Miss Brooks?”

“You, too, Roy.”

She shut and locked the front door behind Shifty Simon, who nodded at Lem’s back and winked before she waved him off, rolling her eyes with a smile that wouldn’t drop off her lips.  The shack felt suddenly a lot smaller with just the two of them in it, Lem Fike dutifully sweeping away the last of the grime from her floorboards, the muscles of his strong shoulders bunching the rolled sleeves of his union suit.

It was hard for her to tell him how she felt, she knew that much.  But she could show him.

She slunk her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek to the flat of his back between his shoulder blades.  He smelled of linen and booze and sweat, but something about the scent felt more like home than she’d inhaled in years.  She could tell he was smiling, he liked it when she touched him, and he turned around with her still touching him, bringing his rough hands up tenderly to frame her face.

“Hey,” she whispered, lost in the soft echoes of his eyes.

“Hey,” he whispered back, his gentle touch wandering down the slopes of her shoulders, coming to rest at the small of her back.  His forehead brushed hers before their lips met, and then she was lost, her heart thrumming wildly in her chest, her teeth grazing against his lower lip, his stubble a sharp contrast from the slow and steady way he was touching her, kissing her.

Anna stood on tiptoe to wrap her arms around his neck, press her chest against his.  So he might feel the way her heart seemed to beat through her skin, stumbling around her ribcage to reach for him.  Her hands were skimming through his hair, pulling him close, her tongue dragging across the chapped skin of his lower lip, and then against his tongue in turn.

Lem was grabbing her by the waist, nudging her backwards, pulling back at long last to press his lips to her pulse point.  Anna couldn’t help the high, keening moan that slipped from her throat into the thick spring bayou air above them.

“Y’know I n-need you,” Lem murmured, and she could almost feel the rapid beating of his heart, too, his breath stammering on her skin.  His knee slid between hers, her hands were scrunching at his collar, scrabbling to get him bare, shed everything that was keeping them apart.

“Need you, too.”  Anna popped the buttons of his shirt, shoving his suspenders off.  “Can tell you a lot better like this…”

“Fuck, Anna…”  He leaned his head back while she kissed her way down his bare chest, leaving a love bite at the patch of skin above his heart.  It was utterly filthy, the noises he was making, and then the feel of him releasing the tension that seemed to live in his shoulders while she made her way down his front, her hands slipping beneath the front of his pants.

With a whispered “this okay?” she stroked him long and slow when he nodded.  She backed him up toward the nearest table, pushing gently so that he’d finally lean back onto it, pulling her with him.  He fell into the spot gripping her by the hips, and then peeling the buttons open of her shirt, too, weighing her breasts in the palms of his hands.

She groaned as he dragged his thumbs across her nipples, her stomach twisting with want.  He met her eyes, a small and mischievous smile passing his lips before she squeezed him just a little, Lem leaning back and slipping his hands down to the buttons on her pants.  Anna broke away from him to shrug out of the shirt he’d loosed and kick her pants off onto the floor.  He took her nakedness in with hunger in his gaze and reached for her hips once more.

“Can I…”  She flickered her eyes down to his cock between them, her teeth baring down greedily on her lower lip.

“Yeah, God, Anna,” Lem mumbled, his thumbs pressing hard into her hips, drawing her as close as he could.  She slunk down onto him carefully, cautiously, letting him part her where she needed him, filling her to the hilt.

“Fuck, Lem…”  Her hands were on his shoulders, trying to gain purchase, her knees rubbing against the tabletop.  His hands were large, warm, rough on her waist, holding her firm and steady while he let himself buck upward into her.

Anna made love to Lem messily, sloppily, tangling her fingers in his hair and drawing his moans out of him like honey from a hive, her lips and teeth desperate to cling to him as much as she could, until she forgot that they were only connected, until she forgot that he’d ever been apart from her in the first place.

The great wave of bliss rolled over her starting with the tips of her toes and tiding its way upward, until all she saw was white with his mouth pressed to her collarbone, his cock throbbing inside her, his calluses catching roughly on the sensitive bud of her nipple.

She gasped a little, love-drunk and a bit giddy, when he got his feet beneath him, sweeping her onto her back on her table, in her bar, and pressed a very stubbly kiss to the sensitive flesh of her neck while he rolled his hips flush against hers.  He was close, she knew, those blazing blue eyes boring down into hers.

“Anna…” he was breathing, his lips curling around her name like a prayer, and then he was kissing her again, groaning against her mouth while he pulled out to come on her stomach, his forehead dropping to hers while his chest rose and fell with hard, sharp pants.

Lem stood looking like Anna felt, the tiniest bit dizzy, bashful, blushing while he groped about for a spare rag to clean himself up with.  “I’m sorry, I - I hope I didn’t hurt you, I - ”

“Jesus H. Mahogany Christ, Lem Fike,” Anna giggled - giggled! - and sat up, wiping the small dew of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, remembering her sore knuckles.  “I oughta get in more fights if that’s what comes of it.”

When he thought she wasn’t paying attention, he grabbed her by the thighs, sliding her back toward him across the table, and leaned in for another kiss.  “Don’t you dare, Miss Brooks.”

[setamalvada]

@norafike   ;)