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flemingsfreckles · 2 days

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Pretend We’re Good

Niamh Charles x Reader

Synopsis: based off this request!

Warnings: toxic behavior from both Niamh and Reader, suggestive at the end, fighting, angsty

WC: 3.3k

A/N: this is the first time I’ve written for someone other than Jessie, but I follow Niamh as a player so idk thought I’d give it a go.

Also shout out to whoever this anon was, this song is a banger and has found its way onto my driving to work playlist which I am extremely picky about, so thanks for the indirect song suggestion! 🫶

Seeing the match announcement was one thing, actually showing up and playing it was another.

Playing England was good preparation for the Olympics, they were a quality team, you knew that, but that meant you’d have to see Niamh. That meant you’d have to mark Niamh on the pitch. It meant you’d have to give her a silly handshake before the game and wish her good luck.

You and Niamh had a complicated history. You played at Liverpool together for a season before she left for Chelsea. You had always had a flirty friendship as teenagers but it never amounted to anything.

Then when she left for Chelsea, it broke your heart. Which made you realize how strong your feelings were for the girl, bawling when she said goodbye and then again at home in bed. For hours at a time you would remain motionless on your mattress, wishing she’d come back. You had been a mess for a couple weeks not knowing how to handle losing your best friend and the girl you had seemingly fallen in love with. The two of you kept in touch but it wasn’t comparable to seeing her everyday, to being her travel roommate, to being her bus buddy.

Then you got a call a season later. A call offering you a spot at Chelsea, you barely thought about it, the club's reputation, plus being back with Niamh, you easily said yes, signing your name on the line to become a blue.

Niamh was your first call, she was ecstatic about you joining the club. It didn’t take long for the two of you to fall back into your friendship and with the friendship came the oblivious flirting.

“You two are insufferable. Will you just admit you want to makeout.” Erin had teased the two of you. Her teasing, while not appreciating in the moment, had forced you and Niamh to actually sit down and talk about your feelings. You both admitted to wanting more than just a friendship and you went on your first official date after.

The next two years with Niamh were pure bliss. You played well together, you’d spend your holidays together, you met her family and she met yours.

Everything was good, until you became unhappy at Chelsea. You were progressively losing playing time to new signings, only seeing the pitch as a sub, it was impacting you heavily mentally and hurting your playing time internationally as well.

So when you got the offer to move to the NWSL, you took it. You took it and you didn’t tell Niamh until the day you confirmed the transfer.

You had broken the news at dinner in your apartment and an argument had quickly unfollowed.

“I can’t believe you’d just leave like that!” Niamh stood from the table grabbing her plate, not offering to clear yours like she typically would.

“I’m not happy here Niamh!” Niamh would be lying to herself if she said she didn’t know you were unhappy. She’d heard you rant and complain about your playing time, your struggles in training, and she had been supportive thought it all. She just never imagined you’d go as far as to leave her, to leave her and leave the country, the continent behind.

“What? I don’t make you happy?” She screamed across the room at you.

“You do! You’re the best thing I have here!” It was all you could yell back.

The defender grew quiet, looking at you with hurt eyes. “But I’m not enough, am I?” She asked quietly.

“Niamh.” You wanted to scream at her that this had nothing to do with her, she was the only reason you had stayed at this team so long. You had been given other offers but you thought maybe, somehow you’d end up with more playing time again and you’d go back to being happy where you were but that day never came.

“No, you should go, enjoy New York. Go where someone or something is enough for you.” She slammed the door behind her leaving you alone in your apartment.

The next day, your final day at Chelsea, you showed up, puffy eyed from crying instead of sleeping all night. It was quickly picked up on by the other girls, especially when Niamh didn’t come in with you, and she didn’t show up to training.

You gathered everyone in the conference room before film review. You stood up, explaining that while you loved the friendships and connections you’ve made here, to better yourself as a player it was time to move on. As you spoke you noticed Niamh slip in through the door, she looked just as rough if not worse than you did. Red cheeks, bloodshot eyes, her hair was a mess, she wasn’t dressed for training. You finished your speech before quickly saying goodbye to everyone all the girls lining up to hug you and wish you well, all the girls except Niamh who remained seated in the back of the room.

You left the facility shortly after, taking all your belongings with you before hurrying home. You were set to leave early the next morning, your belongings to be packed up by hired movers, anything you shared to be left with Niamh. You packed up just the essentials, enough to get you through the first week of your move before you could get settled.

You sent Niamh a text, asking if she wanted to come over for a bit, thinking you could talk it out, but you got no response. The next morning you hopped on a plane, having no idea if you were even still in a relationship with the girl.

It took a few weeks until you heard from her. A drunken phone call after they had won the league. A phone call that part of you wishes never came. You could tell from her first words that she must’ve been hammered, standing outside a loud nightclub or bar. Her voice brought back all of the feelings you had managed to push down for the past few weeks. Her proclamation of love over the phone, begging and pleading with you to forgive her for her stupid behavior. She begged to have you back in her bed, saying she missed the intimacy with you, the connection. She begged for a chance at long distance, to still be the one you wanted.

You never called her back. You weren’t even sure if she remembered calling.

And now here you were, standing less than an arms length away from her as you both stood waiting to enter the pitch. When you had stopped next to her, she had looked at you, when you made eye contact she gave you a small “hello” with a look of guilt across her face.

The game was easier, it was easy to forget she was there. She just looked like any other England player. You were able to push her from your mind, putting you more at ease than you had expected to be being this close to the woman after all that had happened.

It was after the game where you found yourself in uncomfortable waters with her. You had shaken her hand last, avoiding all eye contact. When Niamh tried to speak to you, you quickly dropped her hand and then made a b-line for the locker room.

“Please wait.” Her voice pleading with you as you heard her follow you down the tunnel.

“Niamh, no.” You don’t even turn back to look at her. You couldn’t, if you looked at her your body might convince you to hear her out.

“I don’t need you back, I just want closure, you deserve closure, I didn’t give you that.”

“Do you want closure or do you just want to feel less guilty for what you did to me?” You spit back at her, turning around you watch as her already guilty looking face twists into one of anger.

“You left the country with one days notice! Don’t blame this all on me!” She shouts back at you.

You sigh, you couldn’t believe this was happening. You and Niamh, standing less than three feet from each other, face to face for the first time since she left your apartment. You couldn’t determine your feeling, half of you wanted to grab her, kiss her hard and make up for all the time you two had missed out on. The other half of you was ready to shove her out of the way, leave here and hope you’d never have to play the Lionesses again. “And you walked out! You didn’t even try Niamh!”

“I didn’t know how. I didn’t even know where to start! It was such late notice. I didn’t know what to do, I loved you, I still love you.” She’s making eye contact so intense you can’t look away. This is exactly what you feared. Unable to hold back from the girl you start rambling.

“I still love you too Niamh, you think I don’t? You’re the only reason I stayed Niamh, because I loved you so fucking much, I couldn’t leave you, until playing for Chelsea became so unbearable, I had to leave to save myself, I was ready to quit.” You feel the tears on your face, suddenly very aware that you were crying.

You had only expressed how miserable you were to Niamh on the day you told her your contract was signed. She didn’t know you were on the verge of quitting, giving up on your love for the game.

You notice some of your teammates starting to filter into the tunnel. You and Niamh both stop talking as they pass by. Catarina slows down as she walks by, you try and duck your face to hide the tears. She looks between you and Niamh, giving you both a sympathetic smile before she moves on.

“Quit?” Niamh's face matches the look of your empathetic teammates in the tunnel.

You nod, avoiding making eye contact with Niamh, not wanting her to see right through you. She could always read you, she knew, you expressed your emotions too well through your eyes.

“I didn’t know it was that bad. Why didn’t you tell me?” Niamh grabs your hand, you start to pull it away but the feeling of her hand in yours again makes your stomach flutter so you leave it. “I don’t know what I can do. But,” you feel her squeeze your hand. “I want you back, or I want you again, I’m not sure I lost you, ever I don’t know what we were doing for those few months. Please?”

“We weren’t together during those months.” Sure you never confirmed a break up but you had decided not hearing from her meant you were no longer a couple. But you also hadn’t started seeing other people, the feelings of Niamh still too fresh.

“No, I know, it’s just we never broke up.”

“Niamh, I don’t know.”

“Please don’t make me beg. Even if it’s just a night? Just dinner or drinks, I’ll pay, or we can go to my place and I’ll let you yell at me, or tell me everything I did wrong, or we can just sit, whatever, just one night, me and you can we pretend we’re good? Pretend we’re something again? Go back to how it was?”

“Niamh.” You breathed out. You knew you shouldn’t. You knew both of your behaviors were toxic, you leaving with little notice and her storming out and drunkenly calling you begging for you back. You two shouldn’t be doing this. You shouldn’t, but you wanted to. You loved her still.

You wanted to have a night with her, a date, an afternoon, something! In reality you wanted her for the rest of your life. You missed her hugs, you missed the way she kissed you, you missed the way you’d sing in the car together despite both having less than excellent voices. You missed falling asleep next to her. You missed her body on yours. You missed getting up early to make her coffee or tea and bringing it to her in bed, the way she’d sit up to sip it with crazy bed head. You missed everything about her.

You missed her and this was your chance to have her again. Even if it was just to pretend, for a night.

Niamh must’ve been able to tell you were pondering. She didn’t plea with you anymore, she didn’t beg again. She just waited patiently, studying your face, the face she’s been longing for.

“Okay. One night, like we used to be.” You finally give in.

“Really?” Niamh’s face lights up at your answer. A smile across her lips. “Okay, I’ll pick you up from your hotel? Can we have dinner? Or just drinks? Or I don’t know.”

“That sounds good.” Drinks and dinner would be harmless, a good way for the two of you to talk, in public, keep it civil.

When Niamh picked you up she was dressed up. You thankfully had dressed up as well. Subconsciously when you packed, you threw in a nice matching lace set, which you had put on underneath a simple shirt and nice pants. She had gotten out of the car to open the passenger side door, something she did when you were together.

“Thank you. Thank you for agreeing to this.” She said one back in the driver’s seat.

“Yeah.” You clasped your hands in your lap, when you were together you’d have your hand on her thigh or her hand in yours, today you kept them to yourself.

“I was thinking dinner?”

“Yeah that sounds good, I haven't eaten yet.”

Niamh nods before starting to drive to dinner. She pulls into an Italian restaurant, one the two of you had frequented while together.

When you sat down Niamh ordered a glass of wine, before looking at you. “Would you like one?”

“Yeah that'd be great.” you order the same wine as Niamh. When the glasses come Niamh holds hers up, tapping it to yours before you both take a sip and fall into silence.

You break the silence first.

You apologize for leaving on such short notice. You apologize for not telling her that you were considering leaving. You apologize for not expressing how you were feeling, truly upset at Chelsea. You apologize for never calling her, for never reaching out. You apologize for everything.

Niamh just sits, listening to you, really listening. She doesn’t interrupt, she just sits, making eye contact when you look at her. You find yourself looking away most of the time, feeling embarrassed as you list all the poor behavior, all the places you went wrong.

When you’re done, you sit back looking across the table at Niamh. Thankfully your food had arrived just as you finished apologizing and you were able to occupy the silence by eating. As you start to eat, Niamh begins to speak. She hasn’t started to eat and she’s hardly looked at the pasta in front of her.

“Niamh.” You interrupt, it was rude but you wanted to ensure she knew she could eat. “Please eat, we can talk after, don’t let it get cold.”

She nods, picking up her fork and swirling it into her meal. You eat for the most part in silence. Niamh asks a few questions about your new place in New York, your new team. When you tell her it’s going well, you’re playing more, you are often in the starting IX she replies with “I know.” When you told her you scored in your first game with them, she replies the same “I know.”

You look at her. “You keep up with me?”

“Of course I do.” She says. “I watch your games, I keep up with you, you have me rooting for you all the way across the pond. I, uh, I have your jersey.”

“Really?” You definitely didn’t expect her to own a jersey of yours. You had a couple of her Chelsea jerseys and you knew she had a couple of your old Chelsea ones as well, you just didn’t expect her to buy a new one, for your new team after what happened.

“Yeah.” She sighs.

She then begins an apology list of her own. She apologizes first for the drunken call. She had remembered doing it. She apologized for storming out on you, she apologized for ignoring you when you said your goodbyes to the team. She apologized for not reaching out, something you were both guilty of.

“I do still love you.” She ends her apology with those words.

“I still love you Niamh.” You can’t help it, you loved this woman, everything about her.

You don’t get to follow up on what that meant for either of you as the waiter comes with the bill, Niamh grabbing it before you can, when you let out a pouting huff, she just gives you a glance.

“Please it’s the least I can do, plus I asked you to this.”

“Fine.” You cross your arms. “But I get the next one.”

“The next one?” Niamh’s face breaks into a small smile, just creeping on her lips. “As in, another time?”

“If that’s something you want to do?”

“Yeah.” She says. “Does that mean, we’re…” she points a finger between the two of you.

You knew it was maybe too soon to let her back in, too soon for both of you but you really didn’t care. Sitting here being able to see her, hear her, admire her, made you miss every inch of her. You wanted her back, you needed her back. Long distance would be something to figure out, but not right now, right now you had her in front of you, within reach.

You’re not sure what to call yourselves yet, so you nod. “If that’s something you want too.”

“Yeah.” The waiter comes back to the table to give Niamh her card back. You both thank him before leaving the restaurant and heading to her car. Niamh goes to open your car door, just just barely cracks it when you push it closed.

“Hey!” She turns back to scold you, coming face to face with each other.

“Hi.” You breath out practically whispering, this was the closest you two had been in a non-match situation in months. Your faces inches from each other. You look at her eyes, temporarily getting lost in their beautiful blue color. Your trance is broke by her blinking a few times. Your eyes fall to her lips and then back to her eyes. Niamh gets the hint and brings her hands up around your shoulders, pulling you slightly closer.

“Is this okay?” She asks, looking up at you with wide eyes.

You find yourself leaning in, pressing your lips to hers, they feel better than you remember, you can feel your love for her flooding through your body, your hairs standing on edge, its electric and soft and it feels safe. You were kissing Niamh. Your Niamh. The love of your life, the girl you had waited for, the girl who was with you through your teenage years and into young adulthood. This was your girl, she was yours, you promised to never let her go again.

You kiss for a second, your front gently pressed to hers as her back is leaned up against the car. It’s a passionate kiss, both of you pouring months of built up feelings into it. When you break away you can’t hide the smile across your face and by the looks of it neither can Niamh.

“I love you.” You say.

“I love you.” She then turns opening the door again, you let her this time and you get into the car. When she climbs in the drivers seat she asks where to.

“Yours?” You suggest. “I can think of a few more ways we can make up for lost time.” You give her a wink and Niamh gets the hint, quickly starting the car in the direction of her apartment. It only takes a few turns before her hand finds its way to your upper thigh, giving it a hard squeeze.

Sure it wasn’t the healthiest way of working out your problems together, but it worked, you both got your frustrations out, you were able to express your emotions, show how much you missed each other, how much you loved each other, and by the time morning came the two of you had decided you were back together.

Girlfriends, just long distance ones.

#niamh charles #Niamh Charles x reader #woso imagine #woso x reader #niamh charles imagine #lionesses x reader

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melanieph321 · 19 hours

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Ruben Dias x Black Reader - Volunteer

Summary - Ruben wants to celebrate Man City winning another PL title. However, Reader won't be able to join him.

Enjoy!

You thought that your life would change, dating someone like Ruben Dias. Although there were some drastic changes, mainly the sudden invasion of privacy from strangers claiming to know and judging everything about you. Other than that, your life was normal.

You were even able to keep your day job as a middle school teacher, at least up until the point that it became irrational for you to take as many days off as you did when traveling with Ruben to his many away games. Although your hours as a teacher were reduced by quitting your job, you never forgot where you came from and always went back to volunteering whenever they needed you. Like this weekend, for instance.

The summer holidays were closing in. Although most children were looking forward to it, others, less fortunate kids, dread the feeling of being trapped at home without anywhere to go for ten weeks. Especially children from trouble backgrounds where their parents where know alcoholics.

In this case, the school always used the last days of the term to cheer up the children with fun activities, sponsored by the local churches and volunteers like yourself signing up to help out.

"If we win the league, I'm taking you to Ibiza."

"If you win?" You giggled. Ruben came out of the bathroom, toothbrush in his mouth. He was so eager to start the last game of the season for Man City. Today was the day his team could make Premier league history by becoming the first team to secure four back to back titles.

"Yes, if we win. Nothing is for certain." He said, darting his toothbrush at you.

You shook your head. Ruben was just being daft. City would win their game today against West Ham, and they would win it easily.

A few hours later, as you watch the refeee blow the final whistle, Manchester City were champions once again.

"Baby, what did I say!" Ruben cheered. "Start packing your fucking bags."

It was hysterical. The scenes at the Ethiad stadium were very hysterical, with fans invading the pitch from all directions. You were a little afraid to step onto it yourself. However, Ruben would be very disappointed if you didn't. In the joyous state that he was in, he would've probably climbed the stands and carried you onto the pitch himself.

"Did I tell you how much I fucking love you?" Ruben pressed a wet kiss to your forhead before running off with his teammates, all of them celebrating like a pack of hooligans. It was all very hysterical and brilliant at the same time.

"I can't find my mommy."

Walking around the pitch, taking it all in, how happy and proud Ruben must be of himself and his teammates, you suddenly bumped into a child who seemed a bit dissoriented and anxious to be reunited with his parents.

"Have you lost your mother?" You asked, kneeling down to be at eye level with the boy.

"Yes, I think she went with daddy?"

"Alright, let's go find mommy and daddy then. Would you like that?"

The boy nodded and felt safe enough to accept your offer to hold his hand.

"Oh my God, Rome!"

It didn't take long for you to find out who the child belonged to. You had practically been looking for each other.

"Shit Y/N, you found him."

"He actually found me." You smiled and watched Kevin de Bruyne reunite with his son.

"I don't know how to thank you. Michele was so worried."

"All is well now."

"Yeah, thanks to you."

It was something, seeing a father's relief. Sometimes you wonder if Ruben would be like that, a carrying father?

"Will we see you tonight?" Kevin asked, little Rome in his arms.

"Tonight?"

"Yes, for the celebration party?"

"Oh, that." It sounded fun, truly. But you had a long week ahead, starting tomorrow.

You had to get to the school early to help the other volunteers set everything up. You explained this to Kevin, who seemed to understand.

"To be honest, I'm not one for parties either. It's sounds like fun, volunteering."

"You should try it." You said. And with that, Kevin left to find his wife and their other children while you went to collect an ecstatic Ruben before he hurt himself.

"What do you mean you're not coming with me to the party?"

Unlike Kevin, Ruben didn't take the news as well. The two of you returned home, with Ruben noticing that you weren't getting ready to go out, like him.

"Well, I have to get up early tomorrow."

"So?"

"Ruben? "

"Come on baby, it's not everyday I win a championship?"

"Four in a row, Ruben. You've literally won four in a row." And you had been there to witness two of them.

He grinned. "Isn't it lovely?"

You rolled your eyes.

"Come on, baby." Ruben trailed your steps through the apartment. "What about Ibiza, we leave right after the City parade. Please tell me you're coming with me to that?"

"The parade, or Ibiza?"

"You're kidding me right?"

"Ruben." You sighed. "I've told you how important volunteering for the kids is to me."

"But won't there be other volunteers?"

"No, Ruben, they're gonna need all hands on deck, we're already very short staffed."

"Because the school is so run down. Why would anyone want to volunteer there?"

You paused, mouth wide open.

"What?"

"I can't believe you just said that."

"It's the truth."

"Ruben, that school has been there for all my life. I grew up going to that school." You felt yourself getting rallied up. How could Ruben be so stubborn about this when he knew how important your job was to you?

"Okay, look...." He whipped out his phone in one last attempt to win you over. "Just give me the number of the principal, and I'll make sure to forward a nice little donation to the school, of course in the return that you will come with me to Ibiza. There, problem solved."

"No, Ruben!" You groand. "The only problem I have right now is you not hearing me out."

"Come on baby, let's not fight. The car will be here in a minute."

"Ruben! Do you even hear yourself right now? I get wanting to celebrate with your teammates, but you're gonna have to accept the fact that I'm NOT coming with you!"

That seemed to do it.

That was the end of the shouting.

Disappointed, Ruben left for the party without you. And you went to bed with a headache that would last all week.

It was only around Wednesday that you no longer thought of your heated argument with Ruben. By then, the title celebrations in England were over, with Ruben hopping on a plane to take him and his friends straight to Ibiza.

Perhaps it was for the best that you spent sometime apart. You were too emerged in your volunteer work anyway.

"Miss Y/N, can you go on the waterslide with me? I'm scared."

"Scared?"

With the church donations, the school was able to set up a blow-up waterslide. All children seemed to enjoy it, although you admit that the construction looked very steep.

"Yes, I'm scared so will you ride it with me?"

"Erm....I don't know Nelson. I didn't bring any swim wear."

"Oh, okay." The boy muttered.

"I'll go with you on the slide."

The boy gasped, eyes wide as he perked up. "Kevin de Bruyne!"

You snapped your head back and were equally surprised. "Kevin? What are you...."

"Hey everyone, it's Kevin de Bruyne!" Nelson shouted, alerting a flock of children to head your way.

Kevin smiled. "Ruben forwarded the address and said you might need a hand."

"He did?"

Cheering children cane running towards you, and soon Kevin was ambushed by all of them.

Behind him was his wife, Michele, and their kids. "I guess my kids better hurry up and get on the slide now, while my husband distracts the others." She smiled.

"Um...help yourself." You stammered, not really sure how this came to be.

"Y/N?"

And as if things weren't strange enough, John Stones and Kyle Walker came walking through the school gates. They had also brought along their families. "Ruben promised there would be food." Kyle said.

"Um, there is." You pointed towards the table next to the grill.

"Great. Kids, run along. Daddy has to eat."

"I'm sorry about him." John smiled, giving you a hug. "It was all pretty last minute of Ruben to invite us. I didn't even know that the two of you were volunteers."

"Neither did I." You frowned. "You said Ruben invited you?"

"Yeah." John nodded. "I think he messaged everyone in the Man City group chat. The rest are probably on their way."

"The rest?" You looked to the gates, and indeed, some very nice cars were seen pulling up to the school parking lot. You recognized everyone of Ruben's teammates, including their family's. Even some of the City staff members were seen entering the school yard.

"I think we're gonna need more food." The principal, who appeared behind you, said. She looked more excited than anxious, peering her head to see who was next to walk through the gates. Your heart skipped at the sight of him, Ruben, carrying the child of his teammate Bernardo Silva.

"I know he is your sagnificant other..." The principal said as the two of you watched Ruben make his way over. "But I figured he'd be too busy with the celebrations of winning the league. I didn't want to come off as too forward by asking you to invite him. You know....for the children."

"Right."

"I'm glad you did it anyway."

"I actually...didn't." You turned around to see that the principal was gone. She had joined the children to watch Kevin de Bruyne go down the water slide.

"I think that's everyone?"

You turned around to find Ruben and Bernardo standing before you. They were looking around the crowded school yard, kids mixed with the newly crowned title winners. It was surreal, with everyone, even the volunteers looking to enjoy themselves.

"It's a good thing you got going here." Bernardo said, unhanding Ruben his child. "Make sure to invite us to the next one."

"Um...sure." You stammered, to which Ruben smiled. The two of you were left standing. Ruben towering over you like a tree. He stretched out his arms. "Suprise."

A smiled crept your face. You gave in, stepping forward to let him warp his giant arms around you.

"What about Ibiza?" You said, tilting your head.

Ruben looked down, eyes beaming brightly at you. "I was wrong, and you we right, I'm sorry."

You smiled. "Thank you."

He bent down, capturing your lips with his own. "You're there for my important stuff." He whispered. "It's only right that I should be there for your important stuff too."

"Oh, Ruben."

He kissed you again, assuring you that he was indeed in it for the long hall.

#fanfiction #football imagine #ruben dias #man city #footballer x reader #footballer imagine #manchester city #football angst #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias x black reader #ruben dias angst

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soscarlett1twas · 14 hours

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Midnight Church Bells

↳ Andrew and his brother sneak out. ↳ 2k words / also available on ao3! ↳ This fic is literally a year old lmao?? I was sorting through docs and found this finished draft, so I polished it a bit and here we are. Please forgive past me if the prose is... how we say 'shit'.

The holidays always snuck up on Andrew the same - sudden and unwelcome, but inevitable. This year, he’d been too invested in his studies, and, surprisingly, his own love life to notice much of withering leaves or decorations, but when he turned on the radio and heard those familiar jingles, he groaned in recognition.

Really, it was none of those things (despite how much he did tire of those songs) that bittered Christmas for him. It was the fact that once the break started, his family would come calling. And despite all protests, his parents would never let him stay at college during the advent.

“It’s time for the Lord.” His mother’s voice lifted through the phone he propped up on his dashboard. “And family,” she added after a moment. He resisted the urge to slam his head against the steering wheel, instead opting for biting his tongue. The one time his parents didn’t want him studying.

Her saying that added to the sting of the season. And family. It seemed that this was the only time of year where that was on her mind.

Which all led him to the same spot he was every December 24th: Sitting on his childhood bed, with whatever book he was currently reading in his hands, and classical music playing from his phone.

Reclining into his pillow, Andrew lifted his glasses off and put them on the bedside table, a thumb folding the wings as the other worked as a bookmark.

Yet he didn’t close his eyes. For one of those brief moments in life, he wasn’t thinking, or sleeping, or doing really anything at all. He was just there, in a limbo between sleep and consciousness, hoping that if he purposely derived himself the next day wouldn’t come as quickly.

And he stayed like that for 5 minutes. Or maybe it was 10, or maybe no time passed at all. But eventually he gave in to rest. No matter what, the morning would come and he’d rather not fall asleep during the already tedious sermons in church. So he set an alarm, put his book on the nightstand, and laid down.

He closed his eyes, and it was like he could hear the ringing already.

Maybe he did.

A soft patter-ing rang just outside his door, the familiar sound of footsteps on carpet blotting the silence. And just as he was about to roll over, Andrew heard his door creak open, and the silhouette of a man leaned into the room.

“Want to go on a walk?” He whispered, twinged with a sense of boredom.

Andrew didn’t even need to turn to know who was asking. “Give me a moment,” he sighed, and motioned to push himself off the bed.

—

“How did you know I was awake?” Andrew asked, still pulling his overcoat over his arms.

“Your light was on, I saw it through your door.” His brother responded, turning off their driveway onto the sidewalk. He was slightly ahead of Andrew, but slowed a bit so that they were walking together.

A cloud of mist formed from his breath as he stuffed his hands into his pockets, pulling the coat closer to himself to save some of his last remaining body heat. A near-midnight flit wasn’t what he had planned, but he’d prefer it than trying to sleep. Besides, this may be the only quality time he could spend with his twin during the break. God knows the time they’ve spent at college has already distanced them enough.

“So,” he huffed, searching for a topic of conversation. “How have you been?”

“Fine. Uni’s been beating my ass though - we spent practically the entire week leading up to the holidays in the lab, just sweating over our assignments. Jesus, I’m not even a Biochem major but Chemistry is just not letting up.”

It had been years since he was in a lab, but with the track he was on, he got the stress with ‘crunch time’. “I understand. I’ve recently had to rush a project for my Literary Theory course.”

“What do you even do in that class?” He questioned, half serious, half mocking.

“Analyze texts, find out how the culture of the author influenced their works.” He could go on: Literary Theory was one of his favorite classes, no matter how rigorous the course was, but he knew his brother wouldn’t care to hear the details.

Winding down their street, the two carried on talking about academia with a partial interest, not fully understanding either’s field of study but trying to be supportive anyways. Soughing wind bent branches to a static beat as they approached the neighborhood's egress. By and by they were talking about the more social aspects of their schooling: Andrew’s literature club, the parties either rarely attended, his brother’s friends.

“How has your roommate been?” Andrew asked, kicking a rock under his shoe and watching it roll along the concrete.

“Good.” He sighed out a laugh. “He’s great, actually.”

Andrew glanced over to his brother, and if the slight warmth in his voice wasn’t enough, the red on his cheeks told him everything he needed to know. He chuckled too, and gave a soft nudge on his shoulder, making them both smile.

In a weird way, they never needed to tell eachother about any of this stuff. Equal parts the awkwardness that surrounded telling your sibling, your twin of all people, who you were interested in and an unspoken alliance against their parents had kept them from ever openly speaking it. But Andrew knew his brother was into guys ever since they were teens, he just didn’t know if his brother had caught on to his own preferences yet.

The stone made a sharp sound as it drifted over to his brother, who promptly kicked it back to Andrew with the inside of his shoe.

“Helios, right?”

His brother hummed in response.

His mind trailed to the man at his college, the one who he had desperately wanted to introduce to him, and found himself grinning at the mere thought. God, he hoped Isaac would like his brother.

He opened his mouth, then shut it quickly. What would he even say? He trusted his brother, but to come out was something entirely different, and with Christmas just around the corner? No, he’d wait. Right after, though, he’d tell him. Andrew silently swore it to himself.

“Honestly, I prefer the dorms to the house.”

That snapped Andrew out of his thinking. “Really?”

“Yeah.” He stopped abruptly, and threw his arms out in exasperation. “Isn’t it suffocating to you too?”

Everytime he was in his room, Andrew could only remember the sleepless nights he spent hunched over and studying. The dining table was a barrage of moments he spent silent as his parents and brother fought. The living room was a danger zone, as he never wanted to catch his parents when they were disappointed in his brother, or worse, him. The whole house could burn down and the only memories that would go with it were the most futile. Worse was, even without flames, Andrew felt like he wadded through smoke every time he was in those walls.

He silently nodded his head. His brother just stared at him, as if he wanted voice confirmation. But how can one speak up against the pyre when its fumes had already scorched his vocal cords?

After a moment, his brother kept walking, and Andrew followed. “I contemplated not coming back this winter.” He muttered.

“As did I.” Andrew responded, suddenly getting his voice back.

“What could you possibly be avoiding?”

A million and one answers filled his head, but none escaped him - no matter what he said, not a single one would measure up to his brother's reasons. So why even bother trying to compare?

His twin huffed as he turned away, suddenly gaining some distance on Andrew, and he let him keep it.

For a while, the only sound they made was their shoes against concrete sidewalks and the crunch as they occasionally had to step into snow. Andrew brought his hands up to his face, cupping them to breathe and warm himself up. Normally he kept gloves in his pockets, just in case. But, of course, he just had to forget them tonight. His fingers combed through his hair, forcing him to look straight ahead at his brother's back. Again, he bit his tongue. But wasn’t that what had gotten him into this situation, unintentionally pushing his brother away by not talking? He didn’t understand it, but only continuing the cycle wasn’t going to help anything.

So he opened his mouth, just in time to slam right into his brother.

He stumbled, but his brother didn’t flinch. Or even look at Andrew. His eyes remained trained to the tree line, frozen in place.

Regaining his footing, Andrew tried again. “Dar-“

“Stop.” He whispered.

“No, D-“

“Shut up, Andrew, just listen.”

So he did.

For a few seconds, he didn’t hear anything. His eyes fell where his brother’s were focused, though without his glasses, the details were fuzzy.

Then, a distant chime hit his ear.

More followed.

A symphony of church bells rang, each peal like a glimmer in the air.

Andrew knew they rang the bells at midnight every Christmas Eve, though he couldn’t remember the last time he had heard them. During mass, he could imagine it would be unbearable. But from here? The sound was quite pleasant.

As the bells continued, the twins stood there, listening to it all. Andrew was the first to tear his eyes away from the church he couldn’t see, glancing over at his brother through the corner of his eye. It was the first good look he had gotten at him in a long time.

Andrew hadn’t realized how short a decade was. Though in context of anything else, the last ten years of his life had dawdled. But with his brother? It was like the blink of an eye. One moment they were running and laughing, a mirror image of one another - even the Christmas’ were tolerable. Fun, even. The next, blooming into adulthood - mimics of who they used to be.

In fact, the longer he looked at him, Andrew realized just how much his brother had changed. His hair had definitely grown, locked into a short ponytail that hung low with swooping bangs, and he made the full switch to contacts some time ago. He even got taller, and next to Andrew, he was a lofty inch or two higher. Though that could also be accredited to the boots he wore. (Ashamed to say, Andrew didn’t remember when or how he got them. They certainly weren’t a gift from their parents, but did his brother even have a job to afford them?) He was more muscular, which wasn’t saying much compared to Andrew, but he was certainly leaner. The man never made a mention of continuing his secondary school athletics, but maybe he did as an extracurricular? Again, Andrew was straining to remember specifics. Though, he supposed any reason to play was now null, as originally it was a brilliant excuse to come home late without his parents accusing him of deviancy.

But he wasn’t too alien to him. There was something still familiar to him, like flecks of gold shining through, no matter how small. After all, they began to sneak out when they were fourteen and are still doing it now. There must be something that still connected them.

Right?

Just as he had that thought, he missed his brother's pass, and the pebble went flying into a curb.

They walked in silence for a while longer, bells fading to the wind. Eventually they found themselves back on their driveway, and their silence became deafening as they lightened their footsteps. God knows what their parents would do if they found out they had been out so late.

They followed one another up the stairs, crossed the same hallway, and went to rooms adjoining. There was a time they shared one, but that was before they had moved.

Andrew slipped open his door, the knob turning slowly as to mute itself. As he slipped in, he turned half-way to see his brother doing the same.

His brother looked up, catching his gaze.

Andrew saw himself in the reflection of his eyes. They were bitter, burning with… not rage. But a violent form of disappointment.

Andrew was the center of it. And he could smell the smoke wafting.

#MARSTON TWINS I'VE MISSED YOU #this was the first fic I ever wrote for this fandom!!#finally saw the light of day (escaped google docs)#also yes this lines up with the underground ravens theory because of course it freaking does #sakuverse #zsakuva #andrew marston #zsakuva andrew #marston twins #“twin” marston #they kick rocks

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secondtechnicianrimmer · 2 days

Text

Space Corp. Directive #1215225

For some ungodly reason, you fancy the second technician, but you'd be damned if you ever admitted it.

Pairing: Arnold Rimmer × (F) Reader

Warnings: Smut, baby!

Author’s Note: ohhh lads, this was just meant to be a quick thing cos i was horny but then everyone was so nice and now it’s 16 chapters and i've watched RD from start to finish lol basically, i love you all. thank you so much for reading this silly story and for taking the time to let me know you liked it. all your comments have meant the world to me and i really hope you enjoyed the story. i have other works on my other blog (spreadyovrwings) that are unrelated but still fun lol so check those out if you like. thanks again lads i love you all :’)

Chapter Sixteen: Honey Moon

“You’re sure this is right?”

“Lefty, which one of us is holding the manual, and which one of us took four goes to get her driving licence?”

Flinging out your hand, you leaned over in your seat and attempted to smack his knee, but Rimmer was in soft light mode and you ended up hitting the arm of his chair instead.

“Oh, very mature.”

“It was only three goes,” you muttered, shaking out of your smarting fingers. “And it would’ve been two but my instructor was a sexist arsehole. I just- See! There it goes again! I don’t like the sound the engine is making.”

“You just need to go up a gear.”

“Now you’re making things up.”

Rimmer laughed.

“You’re right, I am. You’re doing absolutely marvellous, darling. Don’t worry. This ship is just old and set in its ways.”

It was the first time you’d been alone together in weeks, perhaps even months. Still cooped up inside Starbug, it wasn’t often you had any time for yourselves. Even Starbug’s surprisingly roomy interior wasn’t enough to get away from Kryten’s fussing, Cat’s ribbing, and Lister’s god awful guitar.

At the first mention of a lads holiday on a tropical moon, you leapt at the idea. The boys would spend all the time they liked sunning, swimming, snoring, whatever, it didn’t matter, and you and Rimmer could take Starbug for a spin around the solar system. How this had turned into Rimmer walking you through the Starbug driving course, you had no idea, but it was just nice to spend time together.

“Are your hands at ten and two?”

“Yes.”

“Mmm, that looks more like eight and three to me.”

“My hands are fine, Arn.”

“I’ll have to deduct a point.”

Turning your head, you shot him a weary look as he scribbled down a note in his pad.

“Are you really-”

“Well, I can’t give you a pass if you haven’t earned it, Lefty.”

“Then what’s the point of sleeping with my instructor?”

At that, Rimmer’s pen slipped off the side of the page. His cheeks went a funny colour, and there, just at the corner of his mouth, you could see you’d made him smile. Rimmer had always been too soft on you, you should’ve realised sooner he was just as much a goner as you were.

“You’re doing wonderfully,” he said, shooting you a rare earnest smile, just to make sure you knew he was only teasing you. “You’re already far better than Lister.”

“Well, that’s not exactly saying much, but I’ll take it.”

You let him walk you through a few manoeuvres, skirting round moons and parking between asteroids, until finally, you’d had enough. When you asked Rimmer to finally teach you how to drive the little ship, you didn’t think he’d take it quite so seriously, and if you didn’t have much time together, you wanted to make the most of it.

��Now, that’s definitely not in the manual…” Rimmer began as you got out of the seat usually occupied by Cat and stood beside him.

“Well,” You placed a hand on the back of his chair and pushed until there was enough room for you to scoot between him and the steering console. “I can see better from here. Hard light, please.”

You never had to ask more than once, Rimmer was only too happy to feel you.

You blinked, and his red jacket shimmered away, only to be replaced by the sapphire blue you’d come to love.

Rimmer’s eyes never left your face as you settled down in his lap, your hands at ten and two on the controls, just as he’d asked.

“Mm, yes,” You shot a grin over your shoulder. “This is much better.”

Rimmer didn’t respond, his mind was elsewhere. He let out a long slow breath as his hands slipped round your thighs, his chest against your back, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“Is this okay?” you asked softly.

It was fun to play around, but if it was too much, you would move away without a second’s hesitation. But Rimmer just nodded his head slightly, then pressed his face into your shoulder with a soft groan.

You’d asked him a thousand times to describe how it felt, the difference between soft and hard light. Rimmer had patiently tried to explain but there didn’t seem enough words.

Sometimes, he said, he’d gotten so used to the numbness of soft light that to suddenly be completely and totally aware of everything was overwhelming, and to be touched was often jarring after so long without it. But then there were times when the warmth of another person, the touch of your hands, even just being able to feel your voice against his skin as you murmured sweet nothings to him, it was like waking from a long sleep, like walking through the first patch of warm sunlight after a harsh winter.

You felt him exhale, still a novel sensation, but magical. Warmth spread across your skin through your clothes, then you felt him press his lips against your right shoulder blade.

Rimmer’s hands slipped from their place on your thighs, one coming up to flatten against your stomach, the other falling, following the curve of your thigh until his long fingers had parted your legs and pressed into the soft flesh there.

“You’re distracting me…”

Any attempt at sounding authoritative or stern, even as a joke, was lost as soon as Rimmer kissed his way, open-mouthed and needy, from your shoulder, up to your neck.

“Oh, am I?”

His voice was rich and sonorous against your skin, then the hand on your thigh tightened.

With a soft sigh, you let yourself lean into him as Rimmer mouthed at your neck. Your grip on the steering console slipped as your eyes began to close, and suddenly, you couldn’t remember for the life of you what you’d been doing before he started touching you.

You half turned in your seat, one hand leaving the console to rest on his broad shoulder.

“Eyes on the road,” Rimmer said weakly.

You hummed, pretending to consider it.

“I’d rather look at you.”

Rimmer’s eyes were dark as you turned around in his lap. Readjusting your position was difficult with so little room to manoeuvre, and every “accidental” rock of your hips against his made Rimmer’s jaw go slack.

“I’ll have to fail you for this, you know,” he said, but even as the words left his mouth, his hands found your hips, pulling you into him.

“Oh no,” You pouted. “Guess I’ll have to take the test again…”

You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his neck, right over where his pulse should’ve been.

“And again…”

You kissed the scar on his jaw, flicking your tongue across it. It made Rimmer fidget beneath you, his fingers tightening on your hips.

“And again…”

Holding his jaw between your fingers, you tilted his chin up and kissed him deeply until you felt Rimmer melt beneath you. He groaned softly as your lips moved with painstaking slowness against his, taking your time, making sure he felt every ounce of your love.

Distracted, he didn’t notice your other hand move down his chest until you’d undone his jacket and slipped your hand inside his shirt, dragging your fingertips across his belly.

Rimmer’s breath caught, his eyes bright.

“Maybe I can make an exception,” he murmured, arching his back up to kiss you again.

You let him, smiling when you felt his hands part ways again, one slipping up your back, the other curving round to squeeze your arse.

He was still getting used to being touched, but he didn’t seem to have a problem when it came to returning the favour. With a methodical approach that warmed your chest, Rimmer had taken painstaking measures to learn every inch of you, until there wasn’t a part of you he hadn’t felt, kissed, or seen. You had a feeling he’d been making notes in his stupid pad, little paragraphs on what you liked, what made you moan softly into his mouth, what made your body react to his.

“Perhaps…”

“Mm?”

You quirked an eyebrow as you found your way back to his neck, finding that spot he seemed to love so much.

Rimmer tilted his chin back, his eyes sliding closed, allowing himself to get lost in the feeling as you turned his chin away, giving yourself more room.

You loved when he was like this, completely malleable in your hands, happy to let you shape him in any way you liked. You thought it might take a while for Rimmer to relax in that way, to trust you and let you have control, but he was all too happy to let you have your way with him.

“If you can show me where the autopilot is,” Rimmer managed to get out, his voice hoarse and low. “I’ll see to it that you pass with flying colours.”

You smiled against his neck. Straightening up, you let go of his jaw and reached back, hitting the right button without even having to look away.

“Autopilot engaged.”

Rimmer laughed, excited and oddly proud.

“Congratulat-”

You cut him off with a hard kiss, tired of talking. Time was all you had aboard Starbug, but very little of it was private. You had to make the most of it when the moment fell into your lap.

Patting along the side of the chair, your hand fell upon the lever that adjusted the seat. You yanked it towards you. Rimmer yelped as he fell back but you quickly kissed him again, reassuring him in no uncertain terms that things would be much more exciting with him horizontal.

“Arms up.”

“W-What?”

“Hands up by your head, Arn.”

When he still didn’t move, you wrapped your hands around his wrists, then lifted them to rest above his head.

“D’you think you can be good and keep them there for me?”

As expected, Rimmer frowned and immediately tried to wrap his hands back around your waist.

“Now, I don’t think-”

You sighed.

Rimmer’s eyes flew wide as you pinned his wrists above his head again, your fingernails digging into his skin.

“I don’t care what you think, Arn. Be a good boy for me and keep your hands up.”

His mouth hanging open, Rimmer looked a picture, but surprisingly, he did as he was told.

Your hand slipped back inside his shirt, smoothing up his stomach until you reached his chest. You thumbed at his nipple, and grinned against his mouth when you felt Rimmer’s jaw clench.

“Oh, you love that, don’t you.”

Pink-cheeked, Rimmer looked like he wanted to argue, so you did it again, rolling his nipple between your fingers until he couldn’t help the soft little gasps that fell from his lips. His hips twitched beneath yours, circling and rocking, his tiny, meek ‘ah ah ah’s making your head spin.

“Oh, dear…” You stopped, looking down at him with feigned disapproval. “Did I say you could move?”

Rimmer, so flustered he looked like he might fall right out of his chair, scoffed and spluttered until he was red in the face.

“You started this and now you’re telling me-”

He broke off with a frustrated groan. Your weight in his lap was all he could think about, his body ached to move against yours. Above his head, Rimmer’s long fingers balled into fists, twisting and shaking, as if it took all his strength to keep them there.

Humming to yourself, you dragged your fingers down his chest to the buckle of his belt. You toyed with it, tugging and pulling but never moving to undo it, and all the while, Rimmer watched you with dark eyes.

“If you move again, I’ll stop. Alright, Arn? Do you understand?”

“But I-“

You let go of his belt. Now the only contact between you was incidental.

“Do you understand, Arnold?”

Begrudgingly, Rimmer nodded.

“Oh, c’mon now, dear,” you leaned over him, speaking so close to his mouth that your lips were a breath from grazing his. “Use your words, I know you can.”

Slowly, Rimmer forced his shoulders to relax. Above his head, his fingers arched and stretched, before curling back into fists.

“I understand,” he said softly, then, hoping to protest how long you were taking without making you stop again, “Just please… Please do something.”

You should’ve told him off for being mouthy, but you had to agree, this was taking far too long. Almost without meaning to, you’d started to roll your hips into his, grinding down against the hard outline of him through his trousers.

“C’mon then, you,” you laughed, unable to help yourself. “Let’s get this off you.”

You tugged at his shirt, practically dragging it over his head. You giggled together when his arms got all stuck and tangled. Not wanting to waste a second, you bent your head and kissed down his chest, dragging your tongue across his stomach with a low moan.

“Bloody h…” Rimmer threw his shirt off frantically, his face flushed, his mouth hanging open. “You want to do this here?”

“Problem? I thought you’d quite like fucking me in Lister’s chair.”

“Well, I would’ve disinfected it first if I’d known.”

“Do you want to…”

“Io, no. Just- I can’t think when you’re…”

You hummed against his chest, your hands kneading his waist, your thighs tense on either side of his.

“Don’t think.” You rolled your hips again, slowly, watching with delight as his eyes rolled back into his head. “Just let me make you feel good, Arn.”

Half delirious, Rimmer nodded and raised his chin, begging for a kiss. You happily obliged.

You’d just gotten your hand down between your bodies, fumbling awkwardly for his zip, when the intercom buzzed.

You sat up, accidentally knocking the seat mechanism with your knee.

Rimmer yelped again as the chair shot back into its default position, forcing him to collide with you.

Winded, you almost fell to the floor. Thankfully, you just about managed to cling onto him, and all the while, the intercom demanded attention.

Muttering and fussing, Rimmer reached over you and jabbed his index finger against the receiver.

“What do you want?”

“Mr. Rimmer?”

“Yes, you- What do you want, Kryten?”

“We’ve finished exploring, sir. Mr. Lister and Mr. Cat are ready to go home. You can come pick us up now.”

Rimmer’s teeth were gritted so firmly, it was a wonder he managed to get the words out.

“I’ll decide when we come pick you up, you cretinous-”

“We’ll be there soon, Krytes,” you gently interrupted, placing your hand over Rimmer’s on the intercom.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

Either the boys had filled Kryten in on why you and Rimmer might have been so eager to have the ship to yourselves, or Lister had been standing by when he called up Starbug, because Kryten disappeared fairly quickly after that. If you were and Rimmer were in the same space, close enough to share one mic, figuring out what you were up to wouldn’t take a colossal leap.

The boys found out about you and Rimmer much faster than you anticipated. Embarrassingly, you didn’t even make it a whole day.

You weren’t sure what it was that first clued them in, maybe all the noise you made that night on Legion’s ship, or the dark marks Rimmer had left up and down your neck. Either way, you crumbled pretty quickly. Lister had asked how you liked your room, and after some pretty basic quizzing, it became all too clear that you hadn’t spent the night there.

All that mattered was, they were happy for you.

You took Rimmer’s hand off the intercom and turned it over until you could press a soft kiss to the centre of his palm.

“You need to lighten up.”

Rimmer looked like he was going to argue, and as much as you loved going toe-to-toe with him, you’d much rather make him moan instead.

You pressed your hand over his mouth, tight enough so that he couldn’t get a word out, and slipped your other hand inside his ridiculous velvet trousers.

Rimmer’s voice vibrated, clammy and hot, against the skin of your palm. Then his eyebrows shot up, his eyes wide as you took him in your hand.

Smiling to yourself, you twisted your wrist, finding a comfortable position with enough room to move, and squeezed with just enough force to make Rimmer’s hips jerk, thrusting into your hand.

You moved slowly at first, agonisingly so, running your closed fist up and down his hard cock, just enough friction to make him weak but not enough to get him anywhere.

You felt Rimmer groan against your palm but he made no move to pull your hand away. His big hands hung off your waist, clinging on like it was all he had left. He was completely at your mercy. Well, if he insisted.

“Does that feel good, love?”

You practically purred the words by his ear, picking up speed and giving your wrist a firm twist, making Rimmer whine against your hand.

Your skin was beginning to grow moist from his hot, desperate breaths but you refused to move your hand away, not when Rimmer was looking at you like that, like he was trying to tell you that he was yours and would do anything you asked, like he was giving himself to you completely.

“You’ve been so patient, hm? Waited all day for this?”

You gently bit his earlobe, dragging your teeth over his skin, then bent your head and mouthed at his neck, wet and hot and desperate.

“You gonna cum like this, handsome? In my hand without even taking your trousers off?” You huffed by his ear. “I’ve barely touched you, love, it’s almost too easy. You’re such a needy fucking thing.”

Rimmer’s eyes rolled back, then screwed shut, his moans keening and arching until even your hand clamped over his mouth couldn’t quiet him.

He bucked into your hand, chasing the feeling stretching across his lower belly, huffing and spluttering and shaking as he fucked into your hand, your warning not to move completely forgotten.

You'd forgotten all about it too, you couldn’t care less now. Watching Rimmer come undone underneath you, his nose wrinkled, his brow beaded with sweat, it was everything, it surpassed all else.

You were more than ready to finish him off right there and then, where he’d make a mess of himself and you, but then Rimmer tapped the back of your hand covering his mouth.

Immediately, you removed it, and Rimmer gasped for breath, his chest heaving, his pretty curls falling across his forehead.

“Sorry, you’re so- Wanna be inside you. Can I c- Please.”

“You think you deserve it?”

You bit your lip, embarrassed by your own confidence, astounded at how in control you sounded and how self-assured you felt despite the need welling in the pit of your belly.

It wasn’t the first time you’d taken the lead, it wouldn’t be the last, but the look Rimmer gave you whenever you spoke to him like that, it made your breath catch. It seemed to drive home that he was lucky to even be able to touch you, and you liked reminding him of that.

“No,” He shook his head, smiling. “But I’d like to earn it.”

You grinned, shattering the power dynamic between you.

Rimmer’s eyes never left yours as you sat up and yanked off your trousers. He barely moved until you sank down onto him. You moaned together, half in relief, half in ecstasy.

With time nagging at the back of your mind, you rocked your hips, easing down until he was completely inside you.

Groaning softly, Rimmer’s eyes slid closed.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he whispered, echoing Kryten.

It shouldn't have, but it made you clench around him, your brow scrunching as you forced back a moan. You cut off Rimmer’s soft gasp with a searing kiss, your hands at the back of his head, as his fell to your hips, lifting you up and pulling you back down again, over and over, helping you move, guiding you until you were so breathless, you couldn’t even focus enough to kiss him properly.

You tugged off your shirt, chucking it somewhere over his shoulder. You almost laughed at the excited glint in Rimmer’s eyes.

If he could bleed, you swore he would’ve drawn blood with how hard he was biting down on his lip, trying to keep his head, working hard to keep quiet, but it was no use. He whimpered and sobbed, clutching at your hips and digging his fingertips in, his mouth now hanging open, panting and desperate as you set a harsh pace.

“God, darling, you’re…” Rimmer’s head fell back against his shoulders for a second, his eyes squeezing shut. “You’re so beautiful. You’re so beautiful.”

You realised you were beaming, laughing softly at the sweet compliment, offset by the way he moaned your name immediately after.

You kissed his cheek, his neck, moaning against his skin. He felt so good, you could hardly think. All you could do was grip Rimmer’s broad shoulders tight and hang on for dear life.

“That’s it, love. That’s it- Fuck, Arn, just like that.”

He let out another long, gorgeous, open-mouthed moan, cursing under his breath as he gripped you tight. You picked up the pace again, your brow creased in concentration.

He knew you so well now, knew just how to move with you, where to touch, how to kiss you so that it made you dizzy with desire. There was a lot to say about Rimmer, good and bad, but when he wanted to be good at something, he didn’t give in easily.

Soon enough, your movements grew sloppy and desperate as you both drew closer, groaning into each other’s mouth as you chased your highs.

Your eyes squeezed shut, mouth hanging open in pure pleasure as you felt that familiar tension in your abdomen, like a rubber band about to snap.

“Darling, I’m- I…”

“I know, love, I know,” You swore under your breath, your movements losing rhythm. “Me too, me too. I’m so close, Arn, you feel so fucking good. C’mon, handsome, c’mon, c’mon…”

His hands clenched at your hips, squeezing you tight. He seemed to forget his new strength. You didn’t blame him, you were having trouble remembering your own name. Still, it made you suck in a sharp breath. Rimmer noticed immediately, and pressed a soft kiss to your sternum, an apology.

Despite the intense pleasure, you couldn’t help smiling. He was so sweet, when he wanted to be. Then with one more perfectly angled thrust, Rimmer hit that perfect spot inside you. You gripped him tighter.

Rimmer tensed.

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna-”

He choked on the word as he felt you tighten around him.

“Cum for me, Arn. That’s it, honey, that’s it. Cum inside me, love, please-”

With a sharp gasp, you felt warmth bloom inside you and your body jolted, moaning wordlessly as Rimmer followed close behind. You collapsed against each other, exhausted and sweaty, but laughing softly.

As you waited for the stars in your vision to clear, you wrapped your arms around Rimmer and pressed your face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in, listening to the shaky in and out of his simulated breaths.

“Missed this,” You heard him murmur, close enough to your ear to make you shiver.

Groaning softly, you pulled away to meet his gaze.

“It’s only been a week.”

“Believe me,” Rimmer’s voice was low and faraway, like he barely had the energy to think, let alone speak. “After my rotten lot in life, once you get something this good, a week can feel like a decade.”

“You’re being dramatic, honey.”

Rimmer groaned, proving you right. He rested his forehead against your chest, breathing in deeply. You could feel his eyelashes brushing your skin. Legion was a psychopath and a lunatic, but you had to thank him. He’d given you a wonderful gift.

“We just never get any time to ourselves,” Rimmer murmured. “I can’t help wishing we were home, or at least back on Red Dwarf. Then we could have our own space, our own lives…”

“For now, I’m just happy to have you, and the boys, and to be alive and healthy. We’ll find something, someday, Arn.”

“A promised land?”

”Something like that. Yeah.”

Slipping your fingers into his soft hair, you grazed your nails across his scalp, massaging him gently, until you felt all his muscles relax again. Rimmer melted into you, and all thoughts of lifting off of him faded away. It was wonderful to be so close, to stay connected, to feel Rimmer all around you, inside you, his lips on your skin, your name in his mouth.

“If we were back on Io,” he said, after a moment or two had passed. “I could find us a house. With a big garden and lots of space.”

It sent a spark through your chest, the thought of a future with Arnold. You loved him, he loved you, in any other setting, you supposed you would make plans like that, a home, a garden, holidays and birthdays and family get-togethers. It was enough to know he’d been daydreaming about it all. A life with you. He wanted you forever.

It was almost too much to think about, so you hid your emotion behind a wry smile pressed to his temple.

“You could have a little room for all your toy soldiers.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” Rimmer raised his head at last, smiling gently. “I just want to give you a good life.”

Humming softly, you played with his curls, twisting them around your fingers again and again and again.

“Just keep kissing me, that’s all I need for now. Maybe when we get Red Dwarf back, you and me could move to a different part of the ship. We could have a little section that’s just ours.”

“Or we could abandon that lot and have Starbug all to ourselves.”

“Hmm, tempting.”

There was a look in Rimmer’s eyes that told you he was only joking, but would absolutely be up for it if you were. Sorry to disappoint him but not that sorry, you kissed him sweetly, then called out to the ship’s computer.

“Holly, plot a course for that moon, please. And then close your eyes, you won’t wanna watch what happens next.”

“Why?” Holly’s voice rang out through the ship. “What’s going to happen next?”

You looked down at Rimmer. He looked equally confused, but when you reached back and undid your bra, his expression quickly softened.

Slowly, carefully, you raised yourself up, as Rimmer hissed by your ear, his fingers squeezing your hips, then you found the chair lever again. You wrapped your fingers around it and pulled, tipping Rimmer onto his back again.

“Arnold and I are going to play chess. Aren’t we, dear?”

Arnie grinned up at you, happy for the first time since his death, to be alive.

The End.

Master List

#red dwarf #arnold rimmer #chris barrie #my post #arnold rimmer imagine #arnold rimmer reader #arnold rimmer smut #arnold rimmer x reader #arnold rimmer x you #arnold rimmer you

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