Justi

Plenty of rabbits and sometimes some fic. Fandoms: Red Dwarf, Bridgeton, X Files 27 / She / Czech republic

[justii15]

The Cost of Betrayal

(Sam Trapani x Original female character, Mafia DE fandom)

Chapter 5 - Showtime

You could also find here: chapter 5

Summary:

Sam and his crew prepare to assassinate a man at the theater, with Valeria posted nearby to identify the target once the show begins.

A group of well-built men in dark grey suits and fedora hats made their way into the crowded theater. Sam was one of them, his eyes scanning the lobby for their target. Antonio leaned closer to him. "Stay sharp. Valeria will give us the signal."

Meanwhile, Valeria was walking along the balconies, trying to notice the man. Then she returned to their box.

"Valeria... you see him yet?" Antonio's voice was low, barely above a whisper. He could feel Antonio's impatient stare burning into the side of his head. "We don't got all night for this..."

"Give me some time."

"Hurry up... we're a target ourselves, just standing here." Antonio grunted in agreement beside him, fingers drumming on the railing.

"There. Box three, on the opposite side."

Sam's eyes flicked to the box she'd pointed out. A lone man sat inside, engrossed in his program.

"That's him, huh?"

"Yes - the one in the blue tie and grey suit."

Sam nodded, committing the man's face to memory.

The orchestra began to play, the audience quieted, and the curtain rose. Sam's eyes flicked between the stage and the distant box. "Showtime. We wait for intermission."

"Go there and shoot him from behind, okay?" Antonio said.

Sam nodded, heart pounding in his chest. He'd followed orders like this countless times before, but something about this one made his nerves fray. He turned on his heel, heading for the stairs down to the ground floor. "I'm on it."

As the first act came to a close, the audience erupted into applause. Sam slipped through the crowded lobby, his eyes fixed on box three, across the theater. He reached his spot just as the lights dimmed again for the second act to begin. With the audience focused on the stage, he stepped closer to the open box. The man in the blue tie sat with his back to the door, completely unaware of the danger behind him.

The man's companions threw off the whole plan. He forced himself to stay calm. Damn it. Two extras. I'll have to improvise. He reached inside his jacket and pulled out his revolver.

Sam caught his partner's eye from across the box, giving him a sharp nod to signal he was ready. The band on stage launched into a dramatic piece, drowning out the sound of their movement.

Sam raised his revolver slowly, the cold metal heavy in his hand. His finger hovered over the trigger as he lined up the shot. "Sorry about this..." he whispered under his breath, before squeezing off a single round, straight for the man's head.

The shot cut through the noise of the orchestra easily, making the people closest to the box jump, looking around in confusion. But the man in the blue tie didn't so much as flinch before slumping to the floor of the box.

His partner didn't even have time to draw his gun before one of Salieri's other men shot him too. Only the woman was left, and she dropped to her knees beside her husband almost instantly.

Panicked screams filled the air as the audience realized what was happening. Chaos broke loose - people scrambling out of their seats, shoving toward the exits.

Sam's eyes darted around the theater; they had to get out, and fast. "C'mon! We have to move, now!" he said firmly, grabbing his partner's arm and pushing toward the exit.

"Move! Move!" he barked at anyone blocking their path, his cap nearly knocked off in the jostling. The woman was still screaming in the box as they bolted down the aisle toward one of the theater's side exits.

Everyone left the theater eventually, including Antonio and Valeria.

People streamed out of the theater in every direction, desperate to get away. Sam and his partner stopped for a moment, leaning against the exterior wall to catch their breath.

"We made it..." Sam managed between labored breaths, feeling the adrenaline start to wear off.

Meanwhile, Antonio took care of Valeria and drove her home. "You were amazing today, you know that?" he said, kissing her neck in front of her house.

Antonio leaned in closer, his lips brushing her skin as he pressed another kiss to her neck. "You always come through for me. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"I'm tired, if you don't mind. It was... hard," she said.

Antonio softened immediately. "Of course, piccolina... it was a lot, today." He kissed her forehead before opening the car door for her.

The street was quiet now, except for the distant wail of sirens still echoing from the theater. "I'll call you tomorrow, alright? Get some rest." He gave her one last tender kiss before stepping away toward his car.

As soon as Antonio was out of sight, Sam appeared behind Valeria. He had come straight from the theater.

His blue eyes were tired, the adrenaline from earlier having worn off and left him looking more exhausted than anything else. He offered a faint smile, trying to mask how shaken he really felt. "Hey..." he greeted quietly.

They both went to her apartment. "Are you okay?" she asked.

Sam took a deep breath, suddenly very aware of the bloodstain on his clothes. "I'm... yeah. I'm okay."

"I saw you. You didn't even hesitate before you shot him."

"I've done this before... a lot. It's not like I enjoy it or anything." He shrugged one shoulder, trying to downplay how he really felt about killing people. "But when Antonio gives an order, you follow through."

"I know that very well."

Sam nodded faintly, falling silent for a moment. "Val... Do you mind if I stay for a while? Just for a bit." He never liked appearing vulnerable, but right now he just needed... something. Comfort. A distraction, maybe.

"Of course."

Sam sighed softly in relief, stepping inside when she invited him. He made his way straight to the couch and sat down heavily, running a hand through his messy hair.

"Mind if I smoke?" he asked, already reaching for the pack in his coat pocket.

"You don't have to ask, when you're here, you knoe that."

Sam fished a cigarette from the pack and placed it between his lips, lighting it quickly. He took a deep drag. "Thanks." The smoke curled around him as he exhaled slowly, staring at the ceiling for a moment.

She sat down next to him, plucked the cigarette from his mouth without asking, and took a drag herself.

Sam watched her steal his cigarette with a small smirk, amused by her boldness. He didn't protest at all. "You always steal my smokes... God... you look exhausted, too." The concern was clear in his voice now - he wasn't just here for himself tonight.

"Not too happy about sending someone to their death. He had a wife and a kid."

"Yeah, I saw her kneeling next to him... she was hysterical. Wasn't a pretty sight." He knew firsthand how much pain losing someone you loved could cause - and the fact that he was partly responsible for it was messing with him.

She sat on his lap and blew smoke his way. "Any woman would be hysterical, if her husband was just murdered."

Sam wrapped his free arm around her waist automatically, pulling her closer onto his lap. His head fell back against the couch, and he took another drag before handing the cigarette back to her. "I know. Still, I can't get the sound of her screaming out of my head."

"Would you like to hear other sounds instead?"

Sam's eyebrows lifted slightly at the suggestive tone. A small, tired smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Oh? What kind of sounds were you thinking?"

"You know very well," she said, putting the cigarette back between his lips.

He let the smoke out slowly, leaning in close until their faces were just an inch apart. "You're right, I know. You always know exactly what I need, huh?"

"I thought that's why you came here."

Sam dropped what remained of his cigarette into the ashtray beside the couch, his gaze never leaving hers. He didn't care about finishing it anymore.

"Yeah... that's why I'm here," he murmured, drawing her closer with an arm wrapped tightly around her waist. His free hand moved to cup her chin, his thumb tracing the curve of her lower lip. "Make me stop thinking about tonight, Val..."

[justii15]

The Cost of Betrayal

(Sam Trapani x Original female character, Mafia DE fandom)

Chapter 4 - Part of the job

You could also find here: chapter 4

Summary:

Sam learns from Antonio what Valeria's real assignment has been, and confronts her about it once they're alone. The confrontation leaves them both shaken, forcing them to face what's actually real between them.

A few days later, Sam was sitting in their bar as usual. Antonio came up to him. "I need to talk to you about Valeria."

Sam froze. Did he know something? Had he seen them together?

His throat went dry, his fingers tightening around the whiskey glass until his knuckles whitened. Shit. His mind raced. Had someone talked? Had Valeria said something?

"Uh...What about Valeria?"

"My girl - you drove her once, in your car. Remember?"

Sam's face went pale. "Yeah," he said slowly, his voice dropping lower. "I drove her once." His heart hammered under his ribs. Why is he asking this?

"I'll need her to deploy with our boys on a mission."

Sam blinked, confused. "Deploy? What mission?" He leaned forward slightly, trying to read Antonio's expression.

"A businessman's been causing us some problems. I've had Val on him for a while now - she's gotten some interesting information out of him. You know how it is with women," Antonio laughed.

"Right," Sam said, forcing a smile. He knew exactly how well Valeria could charm information out of someone - he'd seen it in action more times than he could count. But hearing it from Antonio somehow made it feel different. More sinister. He didn't like the way Antonio talked about her.

Sam exhaled quietly, relieved it wasn't anything personal. "So she's been spying on this guy?" he asked, keeping his tone neutral.

"Spying? No. She's been fucking him."

Sam's stomach dropped. Fucking him? That meant Valeria had been sleeping with this businessman for week. She'd never told Sam anything aboutit, and now Antonio was dropping it like it was nothing at all.

"Hey, Sam."

He jerked back to himself, clearing his throat, trying to sound normal. "Yeah? What is it?"

"What's wrong?"

Sam shifted in his seat, avoiding Antonio's gaze. "Nothing," he said quickly, his grip tightening around the glass. "Just... thinking, that's all."

"Hey, what I do with my girl is my business. She's helping us."

"Helping us? By sleeping with some other guy?" The words were out before Sam could stop them. He regretted it instantly, but it was too late now - his emotions were getting the better of him.

"No one gets more information out of a guy than a pretty prostitute."

The word landed hard. "Don't call her that," he said, almost under his breath, then took a gulp of whiskey, relishing the burn.

"Why not? She is—"

"You don't talk about her like that," he said. He wasn't used to standing up for anyone - especially not a woman who technically belonged to Antonio - but something in him had just snapped.

"What the fuck is that to you? She's a whore. I just made her an accomplice and an informant. Once a whore, always a whore."

He gritted his teeth, hands curling into fists against the bar. Antonio was right about one thing, at least: he couldn't afford to show weakness in front of him. So he swallowed the anger, the hurt, and forced himself to stay calm. "You're right," he said quietly. "It's none of my business."

"Exactly. She'll be here soon to walk us through the plan."

"Is he coming?" he was terrified that they would see each other again, but this time in front of Antonio.

"Yeah, come back to the office."

Sam nodded stiffly, eyes fixed on the floor. He didn't want to see Valeria right now - the thought of her walking in, all smiles and charm like nothing was wrong, made his stomach churn. But he had no choice; he sat there and waited for her, with Antonio watching him closely the whole time.

She arrived not long after. She looked like any other night - the same bright red dress, hair falling over her shoulders in soft waves, that familiar smile as she scanned the room. His heart skipped once at the sight of her. He wanted, in the same breath, to hold her close and to never see her again.

They sat down together. "That guy's going to the theater with his wife on Saturday," she said.

"His wife's going too? That complicates things," Antonio said, rubbing his chin.

Valeria nodded, crossing her legs elegantly. "Yeah - they're seeing La Traviata. He loves it."

Sam stayed silent, staring at the table as he listened to them lay the plan out like she was nothing more than an informant relaying intel - not a person at all. Antonio leaned toward her. "You gonna keep seeing him? We need to know if he's meeting anyone else before theater night."

Valeria shrugged like it was just another job. "Of course."

"So we'll go to the theater. Val will help us identify him, and you, Sam, and the others will take him out on the spot. Let everyone see," Antonio added.

"Understood," Sam said flatly. He didn't look at Valeria - couldn't.

Antonio clapped his hands together, grinning now like this was just another Tuesday-night planning session. "That calls for a drink, right?"

Antonio stood, grabbing his glass. "Keep him company," he said, patting Val's back harder than necessary. "I'll be right back."

He walked off, leaving the two of them alone. The silence between them was heavy. Sam knew she was waiting for him to look her way, but he couldn't bring himself to turn his head just yet.

When he finally did, the moment their eyes met, the air thickened with everything neither of them had said.

"You look tense," she said, tilting her head slightly.

Sam almost laughed. Of course he was tense. The last thing he wanted right now was to sit here making small talk, pretending everything between them was still normal.

"Tense? You've been sleeping with that guy this whole time." Not a question - a statement.

"Sam..." she sighed.

"Don't 'Sam' me." He slammed his fist down on the table hard enough to rattle the glasses. Everything he'd been holding back came up at once, boiling over. He fixed her with a hard stare, voice cracking as he went on. "You lied to me."

"No! I just didn't tell you what Antonio wanted me to do."

"Antonio wants you to sleep with that guy?"

Valeria nodded slowly, looking guilty for the first time since she'd walked in. "It's just part of the job," she said quietly. "I had no choice."

"You had a choice. You could've told me." He thought back to every morning she'd kissed him goodbye, every time they'd curled up together after work - had any of it been real? Or just cover, while she lived this whole other life underneath it?

"You know what I do!"

"So all this time," he said slowly, "when you kissed me... touched me... was that just part of the act too?"

"No."

"What?"

"I'm not playing anything with you."

"Bullshit." He pushed back from the table and stood, glaring down at her. "You've been lying to me for months. All this time I actually thought you cared. But you're just like—"

"Trying to protect you from my world? From Antonio's orders?"

"Protect me? From what - from knowing the woman I like is sleeping with another man for information?" He started pacing, unable to sit. "You think keeping secrets protects anyone?"

"You knew it since the beginning."

"Did you even want me? You could've said no."

"Sam, please." Her voice broke. "You think I enjoyed any of it? Every second with them felt like a betrayal to you." She reached for his hand instinctively, then stopped halfway. "I hated every minute of it. But he owns me - he'd have killed us both if I disobeyed."

Sam's breath caught when she reached for him. His anger softened, just for a sekond. "You should've told me."

Then Antonio came back with the drinks. He set three glasses down on the table, looking between them, one eyebrow raised. "Everything alright here?"

He poured the whiskey, ice clinking against the glass. "Here," he said easily, sliding one toward Sam, another toward Valeria.

Antonio dropped back into his seat between them and raised his own glass slightly. "To a successful mission, Saturday."

Under the table, Valeria's finger brushed against his hand.

Sam felt it - feather-light, but it sent a jolt straight up his arm. He didn't move his hand away. Didn't dare look at her, either. Even now, even after everything, he still wanted her.

Everyone had a drink and Val was leaving.

"Then I'll see you Sunday, Samuele," she said.

"Yeah," Sam muttered.

"Come on, I'll take you home, love," Antonio said, setting his own glass aside.

He stood, taking Valeria's hand. She gave Sam one last, long look - regret in it, and something else he couldn't quite name.

[justii15]

Sam Trapani's daughter?

If our Sam had a chance to have children - a daughter - what would she be like? Like him? Like mom? Something from each?

How would she and Sam get along?

I'm interested in your ideas (if you've ever thought about it)!

[justii15]

The Cost of Betrayal

(Sam Trapani x Original female character, Mafia DE fandom)

Chapter 3 - Jazz

You could also find here: chapter 3

Summary:

When Antonio can't go dancing with his girlfriend, Sam is more than happy to take over.

Two days later, his phone rang in the afternoon.

Sam had been lounging casually in his home, feet kicked up on the desk as he read the newspaper. At the sound of his private line ringing, he sat up immediately. He snatched the phone from its cradle.

"Hello?"

"Are you bored and smoking right now?" woman voice asked.

A small smile tugged at the corner of Sam's mouth. It was Valeria.

He leaned back in his chair, relaxing a bit. "Yeah, actually." He glanced idly at the half-smoked cigarette burning in the ashtray. "How'd you know?"

"All mobsters are the same," she said.

"Maybe. But I'm not like the others." Sam crushed his cigarette out. "Unless you're calling just to insult me. What's up? Antonio away or something?"

"We should go dancing tonight, but he has a job," she said.

"Dancing, huh? That sounds good, actually. I haven't been dancing since... hell, I don't even remember."

"Do you want to come with me?"

"Of course. What time?"

"Seven?" she asked.

"Seven's perfect. I'll pick you up at seven, then." He paused, thinking ahead. "You want to go somewhere fancy? Or just a regular club?"

"Club in another town would be safer," she said.

"Another town makes sense. Less chance of running into anyone we know." He considered something else for a moment. "There's a nice jazz club about twenty minutes outside the city - good music, decent crowd. No one from our world goes there."

Then he thought. "You should wear something pretty."

"And what would you recommend?" she teased.

He wasn't used to giving fashion advice. "Uh... I don't know, something elegant but not too flashy? Maybe a dress that flows when you dance. Not like those crazy short ones from the speakeasies. Just... classy."

"And what will you wear?" she asked.

"Same old, same old." Sam gave a shrug. "A suit and tie, like always. I'm an old-school kind of guy."

"Isn't that boring?" she laughed.

Sam smirked at her teasing, leaning back in his chair with an amused huff. "Boring? Maybe. I dress how I dress. That's just me - suits, leather shoes, a watch... nothing crazy."

"I mean color," she clarified.

"Color? Um…gray?" how else. He was a little nervous.

"Then at seven," she confirmed.

"Seven it is, then." Sam smiled into the phone.

At mening, he picked her up at seven. She came out in a long burgundy dress, her hair done up, pearls at her neck, heels, a small bag in hand.

Sam's breath actually caught when he saw her step out. He'd been leaning against his car, smoking one last cigarette before the date, but that got dropped instantly.

"Holy shit..." The words left him in whisper.

She looked stunning - like a movie star in that dress. He quickly stubbed out the cigarette and straightened up.

"You look... incredible." A rare moment where Sam Trapani was speechless.

"Is that classy enough for you?" she walked in front of him.

He stood frozen for a second, just staring at her like an idiot. Then he snapped out of it and quickly opened the passenger door for her - old-school gentleman mode activated. "Your chariot awaits, m'lady."

"So we're not taking a taxi today?"

Sam settled into the driver's seat, hands wrapping automatically around the wheel. "Car, always." He glanced over at her, taking a moment to appreciate her up close. "You look good enough to eat."

She just laughed. "So you won't drink tonight?"

Sam paused, considering the question. His usual answer would've been something like "of course I will".

"Nah, not drinking tonight. Want my head clear... for you."

Sam started the car. He pulled away from the curb, glancing over at her again as he did. A moment of quiet passed between them before he broke it with a small joke. "I forgot to ask... you can dance, right?" He was half-joking, but secretly hoping she was good at it. He liked a woman who could move gracefully on the dance floor.

"You and you're interested in dancing? You're changing, Sam Trapani. Of course i could."

Sam chuckled, low and amused. "Yeah, maybe a little. But don't go getting used to it. I'm still a grumpy bastard ninety percent of the time."

"You're never like that with me." she said.

She was right. He hadn't been his usual gruff self around her since day one. "You just make me wanna be less of an asshole or something. It's weird."

"So how does tough Sam Trapani look, exactly?" she asked.

"Tough? I glare at guys who look at me wrong. I carry a piece everywhere. Don't smile much unless it's sarcastic. I punch first and ask questions later when someone disrespects my family or friends," he gave her a clear explanation right away.

"Hmmm," she hummed, unconvinced. "And how is Sam Trapani with me, then?"

Sam's hands relaxed on the wheel as he thought about the question. "With you? I smile for real. Actually talk about feelings instead of bottling them up. I try not to swear too much around you, even though I'm always cursing otherwise."

"Why?" she asked.

"Because you're different. You make me want to be... better. Other people? I don't give a shit what they think of me. But with you... I actually care if I mess up or say something stupid." The admission tasted strange.

After a moment, Sam parked in front of the jazz club.

"We're here," he said simply, unbuckling his seatbelt. Then, without hesitation, he opened his own door first, before rounding the car to open hers properly, like any gentleman would for his date.

"Do you go out to places like this often?" she asked.

"What, jazz clubs? Not often, no... I'm more of a bar guy, usually."

"So you came here because of me?" she asked.

Sam nodded. "Yeah. I came here because of you."

He opened the main door for her when they reached the club, the music and chatter of guests growing louder as they stepped inside. The place was lit with warm, low lights, jazz sax and piano notes floating from the stage where a trio of musicians played live for the crowd. A few couples were already dancing, their bodies moving to the slow rhythm together. Sam glanced

They found an empty table near the dance floor, and Sam pulled out a chair for her, waiting until she was seated before sitting down himself. "Can I get you a drink?" he asked casually.

"And you know what I drink?" she teased.

Sam smirked, actually enjoying the challenge of guessing her drink. "You strike me as a vodka-cranberry girl. Maybe with lime." A confident first guess, based on how elegant and refined she seemed tonight.

"Then go and try to buy me something," she said.

Sam's smirk grew into an amused smile. He liked her bossy side - it suited her. "Be right back."

Sam approached the polished wooden bar and leaned against it, catching the bartender's eye. "One vodka cranberry with lime, please." He ordered confidently. "And a whiskey neat for me."

The bartender nodded and moved to prepare their drinks. A few seconds later, two glasses were slid across the bar toward him.

He carried both drinks carefully back to their table. He set the vodka cranberry down in front of Valeria first, with a small flourish. "Here you go." Then he placed his whiskey neat beside it before sitting again.

She took both glasses, swapped them between them, and drank his whiskey instead.

Sam blinked in surprise. He hadn't expected that move. "Damn." A slow grin spread across his face as he watched her, impressed by her boldness. Not many people messed with Sam Trapani's liquor like that. "You just stole my whiskey like it was nothing?"

"You chose the wrong drink for me. Will you shoot me for stealing?"she asked, deadpan.

Sam burst out laughing - a full, deep laugh that startled even himself. "Over this? No. If anything, I respect you for it. Most people wouldn't dare touch my drink without asking."

"I've touched more of your things than just whiskey," she teased.

The whiskey glass froze halfway to his lips. "You're right. And I let you."

"Do you dance then?" she asked.

"Yeah. I know how to dance." he answered casually.

"Then let's dance." She stood up.

He led her onto the dance floor, his movements surprisingly smooth despite his usual tough-guy demeanor. The music was slow and romantic - perfect for swaying close together.

He placed one hand on her waist, pulling her gently but firmly against him while keeping their other hands raised between them. His palm was warm through the fabric of her dress. The jazz melody wrapped around them as they began to move in sync with the rhythm.

"Not bad," she said.

Sam's lips curled into a satisfied smirk at her compliment. "Not bad? I'll take that as high praise."

"But you're more into other things than dancing, right?" she whispered to him.

He could feel every contour of her body now, his self-control slipping a little as they swayed to the slow music. Being this close was getting to him - he was only human, after all.

"Dancing is overrated anyway," he murmured.

"Why?" she asked.

"Dancing is boring. I prefer more interesting activities when I have a beautiful woman in my arms." He pulled her a fraction closer, as if to prove his point.

"Hm?"

"More stimulating activities. More... physical ones. You know, the ones that get the blood pumping." He leaned in again, his lips almost brushing the shell of her ear as he murmured, "The ones that make a man forget his own name..."

"Yeah?" she said, and bit his lip hen he faced her.

"Shit." The word escaped in a rough exhale before he reacted on instinct, cupping her face as he kissed her.

"People will look..." she murmured against his mouth.

The kiss deepened. His hands slid from her face down to her shoulders, then around her back, pulling their bodies closer, like he wanted no space left between them.

"Sam," she breathed, when they finally came up for air.

Sam broke the kiss at last, both of them breathing heavier than before. "We should get out of here." He didn't wait for an answer - already reaching for her hand to lead her toward the exit.

He grabbed his suit jacket from the back of his chair without breaking stride, already heading for the club's exit.

"My car." He pointed to where it was parked nearby, fished his keys from his pocket, and unlocked it with a click.

"Where to?" He glanced at her briefly before focusing back on the road.

"I don't know," she said.

Sam exhaled through his nose, weighing it for only a split second before deciding. "My place."

"That's too far."

"Then where?" he was starting to get nervous.

"Stop at that bridge before the town."

Sam nodded sharply, smoothly pulling the car to the side of the road near a deserted bridge just outside city limits. The area was quiet - no traffic, no people.

He shifted into park and turned toward her immediately, his gaze intense in the dim moonlight filtering through windows.

"Here."

Sam unbuckled his seatbelt in one swift motion.

"Come here," he quickly pulled her into his lap.

They continued kissing. She unbuckled his belt and pulled down his pants slightly. She slid her panties under her dress and sat on him. It went very smoothly.

His fingers tangled into her hair, gripping slightly tighter. "Christ... Valeria..."

Sam’s breathing turned ragged, his hands sliding down to grip her hips as she moved against him. The confined space of the car amplified every sensation - the heat between them was nearly unbearable.

"You didn't want to go to dance," she remarked.

"Dancing was boring compared to this. I’d pick this over any dance floor every time." I don't give a damn about dancing when you're sitting right here like this," he gasped.

"You were talking about the beautiful woman in your arms."

"And I got one. The most beautiful woman in my arms right now."

The space in the car was terribly small and prevented much movement and creativity. Val just sat on him, rubbing against him. Every shift of her hips sent sparks through him.

"You feel so good like this... don't stop moving."

She accidentally leaned against the horn. The sudden HONK of the horn blared through the quiet night, shattering their intimate moment.

"Jesus fucking Christ!"

Then he looked back at Valeria with wide eyes, half-amused and half-annoyed by the interruption.

She was laughing too.

"That was so loud. Hope no cops come checking on that noise..."

"I can be louder," she reminded him.

Sam's eyebrows shot up. "Oh yeah? Prove it."

She leaned into it hard. She sat on top of him, sighing and moaning with every movement down on him.

"That’s hot," he remarked. He had something to do himself to avoid joining her.

He pulled the straps of her dress off her shoulders, exposing the nipples of her breasts.

"Beautiful..."

He didn’t hesitate - his large hands cupped one breast gently, testing its weight before leaning down to press an open-mouthed kiss right over it.

"Kiss me there more, " she gasped.

"Sammy I..." she moaned.

His hands slid up her ribcage, fingers tracing her skin. "Tell me you want me."

She didn't say anything. She just moaned more and more, and she put her forehead on his and kissed him.

"I love hearing you like this."

"I....god!"

The car seat creaked under their shifting weight. Sam felt her shudder beneath him.

"That’s it… let go for me."

He kissed her deeply, hungrily - all tongue and teeth and desire. He pulled her closer, nearly crushing her against his body.

"You have no idea what you do to me."

They both came at almost the same moment. Due to the cramped space, there was extreme body to body contact, looking at each other.

They stayed together like that for a moment longer. She was still sitting on his lap, neither of them moving. He just tilted his head back and tried to catch his breath, she leaning against his chest.

"I want to go dancing again soon," she whispered.

Sam grinned like an idiot when she said that.

"Ohhh, so you're inviting me out again? Like… a date? What’s the dress code this time? Or do I just show up looking hot as usual?"

Then he laughed again. "Or are we talking about some other kind of dancing?"

"Everything is easier with you," she hugged him.

He hugged her back, resting his chin on top of her head for a moment.

"You make things easy too,"he admitted quietly."I like being with you."

She didn't say anything.

"We should do this again soon. Maybe somewhere nicer than my car though."

"I'll call you again when Antonio is safely gone."

He drove her home. She adjusted her dress and hair a little and went upstairs.

When she opened the door, Antonio was sitting on the sofa. Even though he had work today and couldn't go with her, he was suddenly here.

"Antonio?" she was surprised.

"Hey. You were out late."

"I was dancing when you couldn't go."

Antonio's expression barely changed. "Dancing with who?"

"With girls from hotel, just few drinks in club"

He pushed off the sofa and took slow steps toward her, his presence suddenly filling the small space between them.

"You smell like cologne."

"We danced. That includes men," she defended herself.

Antonio sighed, running a hand through his hair. He knew he'd been working too much lately - skipping out on plans with her.

"You're right... I should've gone with you. I'll make it up to you, okay?"

Val nodded. "I need to take a shower. There was too much smoke."

"Yeah, go ahead. I'll be here." He moved back toward the sofa and sat down again, watching her head for the bathroom.

[justii15]

The Cost of Betrayal

(Sam Trapani x Original female character, Mafia DE fandom)

Chapter 2 - The art of s*x

You could also find here: chapter 2

Summary:

Sam meets Valeria again while doing some "work" and spends the evening with her.

He didn't see her again for months - not until the day their brothel was about to be raided, and he ran into her there. Sam and the others tried to eliminate the enemy mobsters.

Sam was hiding on the second floor behind the furniture in the hallway. When he had a clear path, he ran to hide in one of the rooms, where he saw her - Valeria.

He hadn't known she was involved. "Valeria... you're..." he trailed off, eyes darting around. "What are you doing here?"

"I work here," she said.

He should have seen it coming - her arrangement with Antonio was far from ordinary. It explained a lot, though. "Work... here," he finally managed to repeat, struggling with the idea of someone like Valeria in a place like this. "How long?" he asked.

"Three years," she said.

Sam stood completely still for several seconds, the implications crashing over him - Valeria wasn't just Antonio's informant and lover... she'd been working in this brothel the whole time.

"So when you two met... were you already here?" He was connecting the dots rapidly - had Antonio met her through business? Through the brothel itself?

"Yes," she said simply. "He just helped me when we met."

He helped her out of the hotel that was attacked and took her home.

On the way, she told him her story. A poor girl without parents who took advantage of Antonio's offer of a better life. A girl who got into trouble with another influential family. In exchange for information and his favor. Thanks to this, she was able to live at least a somewhat normal life.

Sam listened intently."So you've been... loyal to him ever since." It came out more as a statement than a question.

She admitted then what she really was to Antonio - not just an informant, but his mistress, doing what she had to do because he'd once helped her out of trouble.

He'd assumed she was Antonio's willing partner in every sense, but now it was clear - she owed him loyalty because he'd rescued her from danger. "That makes sense," he admitted quietly. "So you're not... together romantically? You just owe him?" He felt oddly relieved by the clarification, though he wasn't sure why.

"I don't even know anymore," she confessed.

"That sounds... complicated," he said softly. "So you're just doing what he asks?"

"Yeah," she admitted.

Sam took a slow step back, suddenly feeling like he'd intruded on something deeply personal. He didn't know what to say - this wasn't just about mafia business anymore. "Valeria... I didn't realize it was that complicated," he said carefully. A beat of silence passed between them before he awkwardly added, "Do you ever want out? Of all this?"

"I can't," she said.

"Why can't you There's always a way... if you really want one."

"He'd find me," she said quietly.

"That's not right. No one should have that kind of power over another person."

When they arrived at her place, she invited him upstairs. She offered him a glass of whiskey. The more they drank, the more he learned things, not just about his superior.

"You know... you could disappear if you really wanted to," he said after a while. "Change your name. Move far away."

"You're clever," she said.

"Yeah? Well... it's just common sense," he replied with a small shrug, trying not to sound too pleased with himself. "No one should be forced into anything."

The alcohol was loosening Sam's tongue by the minute, his usual reserve slipping further with every glass.

"You don't deserve this," he grumbled, pouring another drink. "You're not a possession."

The more they drank, the looser his tongue got, his usual caution and professionalism giving way to something far more personal. "You're too special to be just... a part of someone else's life," he muttered, his voice rough from the whiskey. His eyes lifted to meet hers and held there longer than they would have sober.

She moved closer.

Sam's breath hitched as she closed the distance between them. The alcohol fogged his thinking, but he didn't pull away.

"You're... really pretty," he blurted out suddenly, immediately regretting how clumsy it sounded.

"You too," she said.

"I... uh..." he stammered. Then, before he could overthink it - driven by alcohol and the closeness between them - he leaned in and kissed her.

Their lips met in a kiss that was hesitant but earnest, fueled by whiskey-courage. It was clumsy but there was real warmth behind it.

When they pulled apart slightly, his blue eyes searched hers nervously for a reaction.

"Was that... okay?" he asked quietly.

"It was sexy," she said.

"You... think?" he asked like an idiot. Emboldened by her reaction and the alcohol, he kissed her again - this time with more confidence, pulling her closer.

"I've seen you with a lot of girls, you definitely know what to do," she said, once they'd drawn apart.

Sam pulled back slightly. "Wait... you've seen me with girls before?" he asked, suddenly feeling exposed.

"Those girls didn't mean anything," he explained, wanting her to understand the truth of it. "I wasn't serious with any of them. You're... different."

" Different? You don't even know me."

Valeria was right - he barely knew her. They'd met through Antonio, and aside from the fact that she was stunning, he knew little else about her.

"That's... fair," he admitted, running a hand through his dark hair. "But... I want to. Know you, I mean. I'm drawn to you, Valeria. Can't explain why."

She sat on his lap and placed her hand on his chest. His hands hovered awkwardly at first - unsure where to put them.

"You're... really beautiful," he murmured again.

Slowly, cautiously, he brought one hand up to gently touch her cheek before leaning in for another kiss - this one slower than the last two impulsive ones.

Her tongue immediately tangled with his.

His hands finally settled on her waist, squeezing lightly as the kiss deepened. The whiskey bottles sat forgotten beside them now.

"Valeria..." he breathed against her lips between kisses.

"Samuel... Do you want to move to bed?"

Sam hesitated for a second. The whiskey had warmed him up, but this was different. This wasn’t the usual bar flirtation or brief encounter.

He cleared his throat. "Yeah… yeah, okay."

He reached out and gently took her hand.

She led him to bed and began to untie his tie. Nerves fluttered in his stomach as Sam let her undress him.

"Val…"

"Yes?"

"You're... really beautiful," he stuttered.

"You are acting like little boy," she smiled

"Yeah, well... I don’t do this often.You make me nervous, okay?"

"Not often? I hear you're a frequent customer of brothels," shel laughed.

Sam winced at that. Of course, she'd heard. It was a small town after all… and he had a reputation.

"Yeah, well... those girls don't really count, y'know? It's not like this. They're just… a distraction."

"And I'm not just...a distraction?"

"No," he said clearly.

She pushed him onto the bed and continued with his belt. "Sam, you know who I belong to," she said sadly.

" Yeah, Val. I know. But not tonight, alright?"

"You are still nervous…"

His hands slid up her thighs, calloused fingers pressing lightly against the fabric. "Nervous? Maybe." He wasn’t used to being teased like this - especially not by a woman who had him pinned.

"You're nervous because you're not on top."

"You're kinda ruining my whole tough guy act here," he admitted it bluntly.

She wasn't wrong. He usually called the shots, controlled everything. But this? Her being in charge? It was throwing him off.

"Why? It's normal for a woman to be in a leadership position...even in bed. Men like it, Theky could just...relax."

"I just… don't usually let anyone take charge," he felt really uncomfortable in this position.

She unbuttoned his shirt and ran her fingers over the hair on his chest all the way down to his pants.

"Don't tease me…" he mumbled, halfheartedly.

"Do you like it fast and hard?" she asked.

"I like it rough sometimes," his hands twitched with the urge to grab her.

"How rough?"

"As rough as you can take it." A warning? A promise? Both.

"But now I'm in charge," she reminded him.

"Then tell me what you want," he sighed.

She pulled down his pants and took off her skirt.

"You're... gorgeous," he liked the view.

"And you are eager."

"Yeah… I am," he swallowed hard.

She took his cock and sat on it. And slowly she started moving and rocking on it.

His head tipped back against the pillows, eyes squeezing shut for a second before forcing them open again. His hands flew to her hips on instinct, gripping hard.

"You feel… fucking incredible," the words came out ragged between gritted teeth.

"Hands...off," she laughed.

Sam immediately dropped his hands to the mattress like he’d been burned, palms flat against the sheets. "Okay… okay."

"You’re really enjoying this power trip, huh? This is torture… sweet torture, " he added.

"Do you know that women like it done gently sometimes?" she continued her movements on him.

He admitted quietly. "I just… don't usually do gentle."

She had tortured him for quite some time. Slow lovemaking, teasing, kissing, touching. He was beginning to understand why Antonio kept her as a lover. He felt like he was coming apart at the seams. Valeria had taken him apart piece by piece and then lovingly rebuilt him in a way he wasn't used to. His tough facade was shattered - replaced with something raw and vulnerable.

After a while, she got off him and lay down on the bed next to him. "Now it's your turn. Do what you need."

His self-confidence suddenly returned in full force. "You asked for it…"

He rolled over on top of her and held her tightly beneath him. "You're not gonna be able to walk when we're done here…"

Sam didn't spare the roughness this time - the need for her was too great. His teeth nipped her skin. He searched for her entrance and everything fell out of him as he fully immersed himself inside her.

"Samuel please."

"What do you need, Val? Tell me." He immediately gentled, pressing slow kisses along her jawline instead. The wildness evaporated in an instant because how could he not obey when she said it like that?

He rolled her onto her stomach. He felt her bottom instinctively always move towards him.

He held her whole body tightly with his hands and kissed her cheek.

With each thrust, she hit his hairy bush.

"Christ… Valeria…I can't fucking think straight when you do that."

"You kissed me first," she moaned, ready to come.

He heard the desperation in her moan and it sent a jolt straight through him. His lips crashed onto hers again - this kiss messy, open-mouthed, full of everything he couldn't say with words.

His hands slid on her stomach to pull their bodies even closer - no space left between them now. "Then come for me."

He didn't have to say it. He knew exactly from her moans and intense kisses that she had come.

"Look at you… god…"

His arms locked around her, crushing their bodies together as he kissed anywhere he could reach - her forehead, cheeks, jawline. Every press of his lips was frantic with emotion.

Just because of her and her sounds, he came in a moment too.

"Fuck… Valeria…"

Sam didn't pull away after they finished - just buried his face in her shoulder, trying to catch his breath. His hands traced idle patterns over her back as if to soothe them both. He'd been with plenty of women before her, but none of them had ever made him lose control like this.

"God… I need a cigarette after that..."

Sam lit the cigarette with trembling fingers, taking a long drag and exhaling slowly. He felt completely wrecked - emotionally, physically, mentally. But it was a good kind of wreckage.

"You've ruined me, you know that?"

"I thought you were used to this almost every day," she snuggled up against his shoulder.

"Yeah, I mean… I go to brothels sometimes. But this? With you? I don't usually care about who's underneath me."

"Really? And I was just doing what every girl does."

He leaned forward. "Yeah… you were not like anyone else."

"Because with other girls you pay for sex. But here I could do whatever I wanted."

Sam exhaled slowly, staring at the ceiling for a second before looking back at her. "Exactly. With them? I pay. They do what I want."

He shifted onto his side to face her properly. "But you had all the power tonight. You could’ve wrecked me however you wanted and I just took it. And honestly? It was fucking incredible."

"Even in a brothel you can tell a girl what you want."

Sam ran a hand through his messy hair. "Yeah, but it's not the same. With them? You tell them what to do and they follow orders like employees. But you weren't following any script tonight. You did whatever you wanted."

"This is called...art."

Art? He'd never thought of sex that way before - not in a brothel, not with random flings.

"Art… huh.You're right though. That wasn't just fucking - you made it into something else entirely. I don't know if I've ever done anything sexual that felt like art before."

"It's about art. Sensing what the other person wants. Surprising them. Putting them in a slightly uncomfortable situation," she explained.

Sam nodded slowly, actually absorbing her explanation. He wasn’t used to analyzing sex like this. Usually it was just physical release.

"You surprised me the whole time. Like when you made me keep my hands off earlier? That drove me crazy in the best way."

"Because that would give you control, I didn't want that."

"It's weird, you know? I'm used to being in charge. But when you took that away tonight… I didn't know what to do at first, but then it was… liberating."

"You don't always have to be in a leadership position to feel good."

Sam took another drag on his cigarettes and stared at the ceiling. "I guess I never thought about it like that. Most of my life’s been me making decisions for everyone else… being in charge at work, with guys who follow me…"

"And then at night in bed a woman gets on your shoulders. Isn't that humiliating?"

"Humiliating? Nah. Not with you."

She took his cigarette and took a drag.

Sam didn't protest when she took his cigarette.

"You smoke like you do everything else - effortlessly. I could watch you all night."

"Antonio never liked...this," she pointed vaguely between them.

Sam’s expression darkened at the mention of Antonio. The name alone soured his mood.

"Antonio’s a fucking control freak. He wouldn’t understand anything about this."

He took another drag from his cigarette before passing it back to her, exhaling smoke sharply.

"That guy treats women like property - expects them to obey every damn order he gives."

"Yeah, he is," she took her cigarette back and blew out the smoke lightly.

"You deserve better than that, Val. He’s not good enough for you… never was."

"I'm not getting rid of him. He'd rather put a bullet through my head," she admitted.

"Listen to me. If he ever even thinks about hurting you, I’ll put a bullet through his skull before he can blink."

"You see me for the second time in your life and such strong words because of an unknown girl?"

Sam didn't hesitate. He reached for her hand. "Because the second I saw you? I knew. You're not just some girl to me already. Something about you… makes me wanna protect you like crazy."

"You are stupid."

Sam didn't hesitate. He reached for her hand. "Because the second I saw you? I knew. You're not just some girl to me already. Something about you… makes me wanna protect you like crazy."

"You are stupid."

"You dont even know if i want…this."

"When I kissed you, when you let me touch you like that tonight… it felt real. And people don't fake shit like this."

Sam leaned in closer.

"I’m not asking for some grand confession right now. Just tell me if what happened between us meant anything at all to you. That’s all."

She approached him. "You know the risks."

"Yeah, I know the risks. Antonio’s dangerous. The family’s dangerous."

Valeria seemed to be undecided. "I don't know. I just...hope to see you again."

Sam’s entire face lit up at her words. "Then I’ll see you again. Tell me when and where. I don't care if it's tomorrow or next week."

"I'll call you when Antonio is far away from here."

He reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a small slip of paper and wrote a number on it with a pen.

"My private line. Only for you. Call me whenever you're free then."

"Do other girls call you at this number?" she laughed.

"I don't hand out my private number to just anyone, Valeria. You're the first girl who's ever gotten it."

[justii15]

The Cost of Betrayal

(Sam Trapani x Original female character, Mafia DE fandom)

Chapter 1 - Informant

Hello, a new work of a few chapters for a completely different fandom this time!

You could also find here: chapter 1

Summary:

Sam Trapani was young ambitious soldier serving under the command of Antonio Moretti, one of the most powerful mobsters in Lost Heaven under Don Salieri. Antonio had long kept a secret lover, Valeria - a woman who was noble, intelligent, and classy, and who also worked for him as an informant.

Sam met Valeria for the first time the night Antonio asked him to escort her to a party. Sam arrived at her apartment building, straightened his tie nervously, and knocked. When Valeria opened the door, he was immediately struck by her elegance - long dark hair pinned up with a pearl comb, sharp cheekbones dusted lightly with powder.

"Miss Valeria? I'm Sam Trapani. Antonio sent me to escort you to the party."

They got into the car together and drove in silence for a while.

After a moment of silence, she glanced at him and asked, "So you work for Salieri too?"

"Yes, I do," Sam replied. "Antonio trusts me. He asked me to accompany you tonight."

"Yeah, he said he has some business," she said.

Sam kept his eyes on the road. He could smell her perfume - something expensive, with notes of roses. "Antonio's business is... complicated," he said carefully. "Not my place to ask questions about it."

"You are from Italy too?" she asked.

He glanced at her, then back at the road. "I am," he confirmed. "From Valle Dorata, near San Celeste." He looked at her again from the corner of his eye. "And you? "

"My parents are also from Sicily," she said.

"No kidding!" he exclaimed, then immediately bit his tongue, realizing he'd sounded a little too enthusiastic about Antonio's woman. "What part of Sicily?"

"Catania," she said.

"Catania? That's beautiful country," he said, his Italian accent thickening with enthusiasm. "Do you still have family there? Or did they all come here when you were little?"

"They died," she said simply.

"I... I'm sorry," he stammered. "That must've been... really hard."

Then they were silent again for a while.

Sam pulled the car up as close as he could to the venue, its headlights illuminating the valet stand. He quickly got out, opened the passenger door for Valeria, and offered his hand.

"Valeria," he leaned closer, "may I ask you something... private? About Antonio?"

"Hm?" she said.

"Antonio... he's been acting strange lately," he said carefully. "Has he told you anything? About business? New plans?"

"We don't talk about his job. Only my part," she said.

"I see," he murmured, "So... what is your part, then? If you don't mind me asking."

"I owe him a lot," she said.

"You owe... him? What do you mean, exactly?"

"It's...complicated," she started, then let the sentence trail off.

He wasn't sure if he should press further - this felt like dangerous territory, Antonio's personal affairs weren't his business. Still, he couldn't help asking the question that had been nagging at him all evening.

"You're... what? His informant? Or something else?"

"That too," Valeria answered.

"So you give him intel?" Sam asked. "What kind of things? About other families? The police?" He couldn't help his professional curiosity now.

"I'm all he needs," Valeria said.

"That's... intense," he murmured. "So you're not just his lover. You're his eyes and ears too."

He stopped questioning her, it was obviously not a pleasant topic for her. And he thought she was quite lucky to have the caporegime Antonio Moretti himself.

[that-fan-girl]

[justii15]

The evolution of watching Red Dwarf.

That bastard has won our hearts.

[justii15]

I have a very bold suggestion here.

A short story about Rimmer, who is your ideal boyfriend before the expected birth of the baby, and will take care of the problems leading up to it, hm? Hm?

Want it?

What? Not at all!

Smoke me a kipper, let's have it here tomorrow!

Voting ended onAug 9, 2025

Look how nice SMEGDAD he could be under all that ego, narcissism and arrogance!

[justii15]

Gap in the defensive field (Arnold Rimmer x Reader) - Chapter 17 (Epilog)

(We don't have a picture of Rimmer, sorry.)

You can also read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/67036120/chapters/178132461

So there you have it! End of this story! I hope you enjoyed it and I would be happy for any feedback.

Arnold Rimmer and you had been dating for some time. But then you decided to stay on Earth, while Rimmer flew very often on space missions. Some were short, others long. After the last one, you had a big fight when you found out that Arnold was going away again, this time for six months. It ended badly. It's not like you broke up, but it's just unclear what will happen next.

As the days passed, you felt more and more lonely without Rimmer around. You missed him terribly but at the same time you were mad at him for constantly leaving you behind.

Rimmer, too, missed you deeply. He regretted the fight they had and felt guilty for leaving you alone again. The distance between you made him feel hollow and sad.

But you both knew that each of you had different life goals. Shortly after his departure, you discovered that your morning sickness wasn't just an upset stomach, but a pregnancy that Arnold didn't know about.

You didn't know what it was like between you. But you knew he would never stop flying into space.

Your estranged relationship was soon taken advantage of by Chris, your friend, who was always interested in you as more than just friendship. And even when he found out you were pregnant, he made you a tempting offer. He would marry you and the child and take care of both of you. Then you wouldn't have to raise the child alone.

And even though your love was strong, from a practical point of view, having a partner and a surrogate father seemed more sensible than having no one by your side most of the time. And that's why you accepted Chris's offer.

You started dating. Although it seemed like a one-sided relationship at first, you ended up being quite happy together.

But Arnold was supposed to be back in a month. But Chris had already planned the wedding, maybe even so early on purpose so that you wouldn't see each other again. After long weeks of thinking, you decided to write a letter and send it to Arnold by post.

Arnold received yours letter and quickly opened it up, feeling a mix of excitement and anxiety. It had been months since you had last spoken, and he missed you dearly.

Dear Arnold. I know we parted ways, but I have to tell you something. Chris proposed to me because I found out I was expecting a baby. If you ever remembered and were on Earth, you would always have your daughter here.

PS: I have never stopped loving you. If there was a chance that you would stay here on Earth with us, I would never have accepted Chris's offer. But understand that I can't handle a baby on my own.

Rimmer's heart sank as he read the letter. Hearing that you are having a baby, and that you had accepted another man's proposal, filled him with a mix of sadness and disbelief. The thought of not being there for you and your unborn child was devastating, but he understood your hesitation to raise a child alone.

Reading your words about, he felt a pang of guilt and regret. If only he had been there for you, maybe things would have turned out differently. But he was stuck in space, and it seemed like he had missed his chance.

Rimmer folded the letter and tucked it into his pocket, feeling a mix of emotions.

"What's going on?" Lister asked.

Rimmer sighed heavily and took out the letter. "It's from her," he said, his voice heavy with emotion. "She's pregnant...and she's marrying Chris."

"With him?"

Rimmer sighed, knowing what Lister was hinting at. "No, it's mine," he said simply, the weight of the situation heavy on his shoulders. "We had a big fight before I left. And now I'm stuck here, not able to be there for the woman I love and our child."

"You are pretty smeghead..."

Rimmer couldn't help but chuckle sarcastically at Lister's comment. "Thanks for the support, Lister," he said wryly. "I really needed that right now."

"If I would have a woman like she is, I would never leave Earth again."

Rimmer's face softened a bit at Lister's words. He knew that Lister was right. He had taken you for granted, assuming that you would always be there waiting for him. But now he was paying the price for his mistake.

"I know, I messed up," he admitted, his voice heavy with regret. "I should have realized how special she was to me. But now it's too late. She's marrying someone else and having my child without me."

"Is there a date of wedding?"

Rimmer nodded. "The wedding is in 14 days," he said, his expression darkening. "And I have no idea how I'm going to handle knowing that she's marrying someone else and building a life with our child, while I'm stuck here in this ship, unable to be there with them."

"Starbug could be there sooner..."

Rimmer looked at Lister, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "You think so? You think we could get there in time for the wedding?"

"We could try, if it’s what you want?"

His face lit up. "Yes," he said firmly. "That's what I want. I need to be there for her and our baby. I can't let them get married without me there. We have to try and get to Earth before the wedding."

______________________________________________________________

So, just the two of them set off on their journey to Earth. Meanwhile, the days passed until the wedding, and then the day arrived.

As you sat in the room, surrounded by your friends, you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. This was the day you were supposed to marry Chris, and yet all you could think about was Arnold.

You tried to focus on getting ready, as you friends helped you into dress and fixed you hair. But the tears kept flowing, and you couldn't seem to stop them.

"It’s okay, it’s normal on your big day," one girl said.

You nodded weakly, trying to compose yourself.

One of them spoke up. "You look absolutely stunning," she said, her voice full of admiration. "Chris will be a lucky man today."

You sighed, looking down at your pregnant belly. It was becoming increasingly difficult to hide your pregnancy, especially in the tight-fitting wedding dress.

Your friends noticed your discomfort and tried to reassure you. "Don't worry," one of them said gently. "You look absolutely beautiful. And besides, everyone will be so focused on you and Chris that no one will even notice your belly."

Everything progressed and finally you stood at the altar.

You stood at the altar, your hands trembling as you clutched a bouquet of flowers. You tried to focus on the words of the officiant, but your mind was a jumble of conflicting emotions.

Chris stood next to you, a small smile on his face. He looked confident and comfortable in his tuxedo, unaware of the inner turmoil his future wife was currently going through.

The officiant began the ceremony, reciting the traditional words of marriage. You listened, trying to focus on the present moment. But your eyes kept wandering to the door of the church, half-hoping for Rimmer to burst in at the last minute and stop the ceremony.

As the officiant continued speaking, a strange green shape appeared in the sky outside the church windows. At first, no one in the church seemed to notice, their attention focused on the ceremony. But soon, whispers and murmurs spread through the crowd, as more and more people glanced out the window. Justi felt a sudden rush of hope, her heart swelling with excitement. Was it possible that Rimmer had arrived, just in time to stop the wedding?

The murmurs grew louder, and soon everyone was staring out the windows. The officiant stopped speaking mid-sentence, his eyes widening in surprise. You turned to look out the window, your heart racing.

The green object had resolved into a familiar shape – Starbug, the small shuttle that Rimmer and Lister used to travel the vast expanses of space.

You couldn't believe what you were seeing. Rimmer had actually come. He had come for you.

The shuttle hovered in the air outside, and then slowly began to descend towards the ground. People in the church began to chatter in amazement and confusion. Some of the more superstitious ones even crossed themselves.

After what felt like an eternity, the door of Starbug slowly opened, and Lister and Rimmer stepped out.

Rimmer and Lister looked a bit disheveled, their uniforms wrinkled from the journey. But they both looked determined, their eyes locked on the church and the wedding ceremony taking place inside.

Rimmer's gaze landed on you, standing at the altar in your wedding dress. His heart ached at the sight of her, knowing that he was almost too late.

Chris, who had been standing beside you, suddenly noticed Rimmer and Lister approaching. He tensed up.

You stared back at Arnold, your eyes filled with disbelief and hope. You couldn't believe he was really there. After all the time you had been apart, he had come back to you.

Rimmer ran towards you. He didn't care that everyone in the church was staring at him, or that the wedding ceremony was still ongoing. He pushed past the other guests, ignoring their whispered comments and gasps of surprise.

"Justi.." he said when you met.

"Arnold... you're here," you said softly. "I can't believe you came."

"Justi....I..." he could barely find words to express his emotions. Seeing you standing before him, wearing a wedding dress and carrying his unborn child, was almost too much for him to handle. He wanted to hold you, to tell her how much he loved you, how much he had missed you, but the words got stuck in his throat.

"I missed you. Every day," he finaly said.

You felt tears welling up in your eyes, threatening to spill over. You gripped his hand tightly, as if you were afraid to let him go. "I missed you too. More than you know."

Rimmer's expression turned melancholy as he thought about his time in space. "I thought I had it all figured out," he said softly. "I thought that being an officer in the space core, exploring the universe, was what I wanted. But then I met you."

He looked into your eyes. "You showed me that there was more to life than just space. You showed me what I was missing. "And now this..." he looked at your belly.

You gently touched his cheek, your fingers lingering on his skin."You're a fool, you know that?" you said affectionately.

He gently placed his hand on her stomach and chuckled on your coment. "Our baby..." he said softly.

You placed your own hand over Rimmer's, your fingers intertwining. "Yes," you whispered. "Our baby."

"I can't promise you that I'll never look into space again. But I can promise you that it will always be for a few weeks at most and not in the coming years."

You smiled faintly, appreciating his honesty. "I don't expect you to completely give up your dreams, Arnie," you said gently. "I know that space is a part of who you are. But knowing that you're willing to reconsider your priorities and adjust your life for me and our child...that means a lot to me."

Rimmer pulled a hand-polished metal circle from his pocket.

You gasped softly, your hand clasping over her mouth. "Is that...?"

"Just some stupidity. I ground it on the way to Starbug from some ore we found on a planet once. I thought it was pretty, it had purple reflections."

"You fashioned a ring yourself? From space ore?"

"Yeah...i did."

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. "Of course you did. Only you would think to fashion a ring from space ore and present it as an engagement ring. It's ridiculous, you know that, right?"

"They're not diamonds, like from Chris..."

You shook your head. "No, they're not diamonds. They're space ore. And honestly, I think they're perfect just the way they are. It's beautiful. And the fact that you made it yourself...it makes it even more special."

"Will you give us another chance? A chance to be a family?"

"Yes," you said firmly. "I will give us another chance. I want to be a family with you. I want us to raise this child together."

He hugged you and cried. If he had held back, you would no longer be his.

You clung to Arnold. You felt his shoulders shaking with sobs and held him even tighter, your own tears threatening to spill over.

The realization that you had come so close to losing each other, that you had almost married someone else, hit you all at once.

The world around you seemed to fade away as you stood there, holding each other and letting your emotions wash over you. It didn't matter that you were surrounded by a crowd of stunned spectators or that the wedding ceremony was still ongoing.

As you two embraced, holding each other tightly, Chris stood nearby, looking stunned and confused. The other guests in the church whispered and muttered amongst themselves, watching the

"You don't have to marry me now, in a week, a month, a year. Just stay and I'll stay too," Arnold said.

You pulled back slightly so that you could look into his eyes, your faces now just inches apart. "I don't care about the timing," you said softly, your voice filled with conviction. "I just know that I want to be with you. Now, in a week, a month, a year...forever."

"I love you," he said.

"I love you too," you replied. "More than anything."

"I never thought we'd be here, y'know? Back together again?" he said softly, looking over at you.

[justii15]

Objection

[justii15]

Gap in the defensive field (Arnold Rimmer x Reader) - Chapter 16

You can also read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/67036120/chapters/177972041

That's it, friends! The story of how Arnold Rimmer, despite all his ego, his wits and his pain, finally managed to let someone into his heart. Tomorrow we only have the epilogue waiting for us about where their lives will go in a few years. What do you think it will be? Where can these two go? Together or separately? Take a guess!

That evening he limped back to you with a swollen nose.

"Oh my God, Arnie! What happened?" you asked.

"Those bloody technicians!" Rimmer hissed through gritted teeth, gingerly touching his very swollen nose with his fingers. "What bastards.... They were having a good laugh today. Then they said something about you and then they pissed themselves laughing! And they punched me right in the nose!"

"They hit you... because of...me? Why?"

"They were just laughing at me, like I was some sort of joke! No one believes I have a girlfriend." Rimmer leaned against a bulkhead and groaned.

You soaked a handkerchief and held it to his nose.

He winced in pain as you did so, his nose was extremely tender and ached something terrible.

"Thanks," he said through gritted teeth as he held the cloth to his nose with one hand while rubbing his sore ribs with the other. The technicians really had laid into him.

He was clearly furious at the technician crew's behaviour and was embarrassed, humiliated and hurt physically. He looked like he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. "Can this stupid day get any worse?"

"They'll get used to it and stop."

He gave a short, bitter laugh and rolled his eyes in disbelief. "Yeah... I seriously doubt it! Those morons are not going to get used to me having a girlfriend. They'll just use it as another reason for making fun of me!"

"Where else does it hurt?"

He placed his free hand onto his ribs, he'd been trying to cover up the pain the technicians' beating had left. "My ribs are killing me..."

"Isn't it broken? You can report them."

"And have the whole crew of this damn ship gossiping about me and my 'broken ribs'? I don't think so..." He protested, his stubbornness clearly getting the better of him. "They'll just make fun of me even more if I report it..."

"You like reporting things."

He did, of course, secretly love to report people. "Yes, I suppose I do," he admitted reluctantly, "But this is different. They'll make my life an absolute nightmare. I'd never live it down..."

"Then be an even bigger asshole. You can do that."

Heperked up at that, a smirk slowly formed across his face. He loved being petty and he lived for being an arse.

"Heh... true," he said, his face twisting into a smug grin. "I can be a major bastard... I can easily out-arse them if I set my mind to it!"

His mood seemed to improve a little, his mind now fixated on some form of petty revenge at the technicians.

"Yeah... yeah, you're right. I can be a bigger dickhead than all of those fools combined..." he said with a smirk, his arrogance and ego starting to kick in.

You were still trying to treat his bruises. "Does your rib hurt when you breathe?"

"Yes," he grunted, "It bloody hurts. I can barely take a breath without it aching like hell!"

"You might have it broken. You should go to the infirmary and tell them the truth."

"No way!" he protested, stubbornly shaking his head. "I am not going to the infirmary and getting the entire damn ship talking about me. Besides, it's probably not even broken. It's just... just bruised. Yeah... bruised..."

"Arn, please."

"I don't need to go the infirmary! It's just a bruise!" he protested weakly, though even he didn't sound convinced. The pain in his ribs was getting worse and worse, but he was too stubborn to admit it.

You grabbed his swollen chin and squeezed his cheeks. "I don't want you to get hurt. That's how it happens between people who care about each other."

"Alright, fine... I'll go to the infirmary tomorrow if it'll make you happy..." he grumbled. "But I'm telling you, it's just a stupid bruise! It's not broken or anything-"

He was grumpy for a while longer and then fell asleep next to you. Your roommate was gone today. But in the middle of the night the pain was extremely unbearable.

He tossed and turned all night, the pain in his ribs making it near impossible to get any rest. Every breath he took was agony, and even the slightest movement sent jolts of pain through his entire torso.

He tried his hardest to be tough and endure the discomfort, determined to not wake you up. But it was clear that the injury was getting worse.

"Come," you said. You also couldn't sleep because of his fidgeting.

He groaned in frustration, feeling annoyed at the fact you had noticed his pain and had woken up. He was hoping to suffer in silence and not burden you with his problems.

"I'm fine," he grumbled, in a vain attempt to convince you otherwise, but his words were betrayed by a sharp gasp of pain as another jolt of pain shot through his ribs.

"Damn it..." he hissed through clenched teeth.

You got off the bed and offered him your hand.

He grudgingly took your hand and let you help him up, hissing in pain as he carefully stood up from the bed. "Bloody hell... can't a man get some damn rest in this place..." he muttered.

"Not when you're so terribly stubborn and suffering."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it... I'm stubborn, I'm an idiot, a complete moron, whatever..." He leaned against you slightly, his body stiff and tense from the pain in his ribs, and allowed you to support him as he slowly hobbled towards the infirmary.

"And you are someone I love too."

The corners of Rimmer's mouth curled into a small, fond smile at your words. Despite his stubborn and grumpy exterior, he secretly loved hearing you say that you loved him.

"Hmph, stop being so damn nice and understanding... it's annoying..."

His grip on your arm was tight and his breath came in short gasps as you made your way to the infirmary. Each step felt like pure torture as every movement sent fresh waves of agony through his bruised ribs.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you reached the infirmary. His face was pale and sweat was beading on his forehead, the journey had taken a lot out of him and the pain was almost overwhelming.

"This is awful..." he gasped.

The infirmary was thankfully not too busy that night, and a nurse quickly noticed the pair of you standing in the entrance. Her eyes flickered over Rimmer's pale, sweaty face and the way he leaned heavily against you for support, clearly picking up on the fact that something was wrong.

"Oh dear, what happened here?" the nurse asked, her brow furrowing in concern as she approached you and Rimmer.

"Oh, it's just a little, um... bruise, that's all..." he said, attempting to downplay the situation and act nonchalant.

The nurse gave him a doubtful look, clearly not buying his flimsy excuse. She gestured to a nearby bed and spoke gently but firmly. "Come, sit down and let me have a look at you."

The nurse then gently began to examine Rimmer's injured side, her eyes narrowing as she felt his ribs and saw the swelling and bruising on his skin. It was clear to her that Rimmer's "little bruise" was anything but minor, and that he was experiencing a lot of pain.

"Hm, this isn't just a bruise, this is quite a serious injury," the nurse said, her expression stern as she gently touched the bruised area on Rimmer's side, eliciting a sharp wince from him. "Looks like you have at least a couple of broken ribs in there," she continued. "We'll need to X-ray them to confirm it, but I can tell they're definitely not just bruised."

He swallowed hard and spoke weakly, his voice wavering slightly. "Broken... ribs? Are you sure...?"

The X-ray confirmed the nurse's suspicions, clearly showing that Rimmer was indeed suffering from two broken ribs.

The nurse carefully wrapped a supportive bandage around Rimmer's torso, securing his broken ribs and trying to minimize the pain and swelling. "This will help stabilize your ribs and provide some support, but you'll need to take it easy for the next few weeks. No strenuous activity, and absolutely no running or heavy lifting."

Rimmer grumbled under his breath, clearly not happy with being told to take it easy and rest. "Fantastic... this is just great..."

Arnold had to describe how it happened to him because the assault at work with bodily harm had already had to be dealt with. But it also meant spending at least two days in the infirmary and then several weeks of bed rest.

When he finally got to the hospital bed, you sat next to him."I told you it wasn't just a bruised."

"Yeah, yeah, you win," he grumbled, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Bravo, you were right and I was wrong. Congratulations on that, you must be feeling so proud right now..."

"No, I just want you to be alright."

"I know... I just hate being wrong, that's all. And having broken ribs is uncomfortable..."

You touched his hand.

He gently squeezed your hand in return, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your skin as he spoke. "Thanks... for being here. I know I can be a complete tool sometimes, but... I'm grateful for you, you nuisance."

You gave him a kiss on his swollen lips.

He let out a soft, surprised sound as you kissed him, his lips still a little swollen from the bruising he had received. But he quickly melted into the kiss, his eyes fluttering shut and his hand gripping yours just a little bit tighter.

When your lips broke apart, he opened his eyes and gave you a small, lopsided grin. "Be careful, you're gonna make me even more insufferable now that I know you feel so sorry for me," he teased.

"You are awful," you laughed.

"Of course, I am. Awful and insufferable, that's me. A true pain in the arse, 24/7."

He gave your hand another gentle squeeze, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "But you love me anyway, for some unfathomable reason."

They let him back in two days. You even managed to get your own room, as a couple.

As soon as you got to your new room, he lay down on the bed. He had to stay still. But you straddled him and sat on him.

"Bloody hell, what are you doing, you mad woman?" he spluttered, his arms automatically coming up to rest on your hips, his fingers gripping you gently. "I'm supposed to be resting! I have broken ribs, in case you forgot!"

But you just laughed.

"Seriously, get off me! Didn't the nurses just say I'm supposed to be resting and not doing anything strenuous? You sitting on me definitely counts as strenuous."

"You'll just lie there... you don't have to do anything at all."

His protests died in his throat as he paused and considered your words. The temptation of not having to do anything and just lying back while you sat on him was actually quite appealing. Plus, he did secretly love being close to you like this...

"Hmm... well, I suppose you have a point there," he admitted grudgingly. "I won't have to do anything at all, eh? Just lie here while you perch on top of me like some sort of parrot."

"I think you need to relax after all this."

He rolled his eyes but he couldn't help but smile a little at your insistence that he relax. He let out a huff and relaxed his body slightly, his grip on your hips loosening as he surrendered to the knowledge that he was stuck with you on top of him.

"Fine, fine, I'll relax," he grumbled, his eyes fixating on your face. "But you better not start bouncing or anything, my ribs are fragile, you know."

"Don't worry, I'll only bounce in the right place," you teased him.

"Oh, fantastic. That makes me feel so much better. So I get to lie here while you bounce up and down on top of me? Perfect," he sarcastically retorted, his grip on your hips tightening slightly as if bracing himself.

He pulled you closer with a sudden tug, his hands gripping your hips tightly and bringing you flush against him. He couldn't deny the fact that he loved having you so close to him like this, especially in his current state.

"You're an absolute menace, you know that, right? Sitting on top of me, bouncing and teasing me when I'm supposed to be resting..."

"You love me anyway..." you reached for his belt.

He bit back a gasp as your hand reached for his belt, his eyes widening slightly as he realized what you were insinuating.

"You're not seriously... not now, are you...?" He protested weakly, but there was a hint of desire behind his words. "I have broken ribs, for smeg's sake! I can't... you can't... I mean, I'm supposed to be resting."

"You should be sick in your pajamas... or without clothes."

"I swear you're going to be the death of me... I'm injured, goddamnit! I shouldn't even be thinking like this-"

"This is healing lovemaking," you stroked his cheek.

"Healing... lovemaking...? You're mad," he said weakly, his body involuntarily arching up ever so slightly as you stroked his face. "I have broken ribs, for smeg's sake... how is this supposed to be healing?"

But when you started, it was really gentle. He didn't even have to move, just enjoy it.

His protests were quickly forgotten as you began to move gently on top of him, and he found himself surrendering to the sensations that washed over him. It was true that he didn't have to move much, as you were straddling him and taking the lead, and all he had to do was lie back and enjoy it.

But the way your body rolled against his was enough to make him forget all about his broken ribs. The sensation was like a salve on his wounded pride and he found himself arching up against you, his body instinctively seeking closer contact.

"I'm supposed to be resting... yet all I want to do right now is grab you and pin you down and..."

"No, you're not allowed to do that for the next few weeks."

"I know... but it's torture, you know that, right?"

"Shhhh."

His mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. On one hand, he hated feeling weak, hated not being the one in control and in charge. He was a man, he was supposed to be the alpha, the one in charge. But on the other, there was a part of him that secretly craved the feeling of being cared for, of being taken care of and having someone else take control.

"I'm not used to... surrendering control like this..." he muttered, his pride taking a bit of a hit as he admitted this to you. "I feel like a fool, you know that? I'm supposed to be the alpha in charge, not the one being bossed around by a woman..."

"Alpha..." you chuckled.

"Don't laugh at me. It's true, I am the alpha. I'm a man. I'm supposed to be in charge and in control."

"You're anything but alpha, Arn."

"Oh yeah? And just what am I, then? A cowardly beta? A pathetic, submissive little omega?" His tone was sharp and defensive, his ego clearly bruised.

"No, you are my love. You are currently hurt and deserve to... be cared for. There is nothing weak about that."

"I'm just... not used to feeling so goddamn vulnerable, you know?"

"And now I'm going to take care of you every day..."

He knew he should protest, should fight against the idea of you taking care of him every day, but he secretly loved the thought of being taken care of by you.

"Every day...?" he repeated faintly.

"Yes, every day."

But then, when it came to climax, he realized that being pleased like this without any effort was actually...great.

He managed to roll you over onto your side, even though his ribs were still hurting a lot. "There..." he gasped out, a hint of victorious smugness in his voice."I'm still... in charge..."

"Relax..." you repeated.

He gritted his teeth and tried to keep up his cocky, dominant veneer, trying to hide the pain that he was in. "Don't... tell me to... relax..." he hissed out between clenched teeth.

Your lips met his in a passionate kiss, his heart skipped a beat and his body tensed with desire and need. He was trying to maintain control, to remain in charge, but your touch and your kiss set his body on fire and he quickly found himself surrendering to the feeling.

He let out a low moan against your lips, his arms and legs automatically wrapping around you and pulling you closer, holding you tight against him. Damn it, you were so damn addicting...

Despite the fact that he was supposed to be the one in charge, Rimmer found himself losing himself in that kiss, his body and mind completely taken over by desire and need. He let out a deep moan as he pulled you closer, his arms and legs tightening around you as he hungrily kissed you, his tongue seeking entrance into your mouth.

He couldn't think straight, all he could do was feel, and right now all he could feel was you, and he was quickly forgetting about his injured ribs and the pain that was shooting through his body.

"What's it like when smeghead Arnold Rimmer allows himself to be loved?"

Rimmer's face flushed red with a mixture of embarrassment and desire at your question, his ego taking a small hit as you pointed out the fact that he was letting himself be loved and cared for by you. "Sh-Shut up..."

"You're resisting it again."

"I'm not resisting anything..." he muttered weakly, unable to meet your gaze.

"So say you love me."

He swallowed hard, his pride and ego resisting for a brief moment. But the look on your face, the soft, gentle way you looked at him, it made him feel like he was melting inside. He did love you, more than he could ever express.

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, his eyes flickering with a mixture of emotions. It took all of his courage, but he finally spoke.

"I... I... I love you."

"I love you too, Arnold J. Rimmer."

He wasn't used to being told I Love You, and it sent his usually cold heart fluttering every time you said it to him. He wanted to be cocky, to act like he wasn't affected, but he couldn't. Not with you.

"You have no right being so sweet, you know that? I don't know why you love me, but I'm damn grateful for it."

[justii15]

Gap in the defensive field (Arnold Rimmer x Reader) - Chapter 15

You can also read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/67036120/chapters/177841976

One day at lunch, the other workers on Red Dwarf sat down with Rimmer.

"Hey, Rimmer, we heard you found a...girl?"

His cheeks immediately flushed a deep shade of red at the question, a mixture of surprise and embarrassment washing over his face.

He tried to keep his cool, but the way the other workers regarded him, the look of curiosity (and a hint of teasing) in their eyes, made it difficult. He cleared his throat and gave a small, sheepish nod. "Yeah, I... uh... I am seeing someone, yes."

"Is she real?"

He gritted his teeth at the question, the skepticism in the other worker's voice irritating him. He leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yes, she's real. She's not some figment of my imagination, if that's what you're implying."

But they didn't stop. "This is a surprise. What did you do to her? Drugs?"

He scowled, his eyes narrowing. "Like I need any drugs to get her, thanks very much," he snapped. "She's with me because she wants to be, got it? I didn't need to drug her or brainwash her or any of that crap."

"Nobody here believes it because...it's...you."

He knew they didn't believe him, they thought there was no way a woman like you would be genuinely interested in him unless something fishy was going on.

"Why is it so hard for you lot to imagine that someone could, you know, actually want to be with me? Is it that unbelievable that I could have a girlfriend, just like anyone else?"

"Yes?" They both said.

"Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence," he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Why the hell is your first reaction to the news that I'm seeing someone to automatically assume something's wrong or I've done something dodgy? Why is it so unthinkable that she could be with me because, just maybe, she likes me?"

"Because we're talking about you? About Arnold Rimmer, the worst smeghehead on this ship."

He was used to being the target of mockery and belittlement, but somehow, hearing those words now, when he was actually happy for the first time in god knows how long, stung even more.

"Right, yes, I get it," he said through gritted teeth. " I'm the ship's resident idiot, the smeghead, the loser. I'm fully aware of my reputation, thank you very much."

"Did you fuck her, or hasn't she let you in yet?" Theky continued.

"That's none of your damn business!" he snapped with a low growl.

"So if I go to her now, do you think she'll sleep with me?" they provoked him more and more.

His eyes practically bulged out of his head at the suggestion, a jolt of possessiveness and anger coursing through him. He slammed his hands down on the table, the thought of the other man even thinking he could try with you making his blood boil.

"You even think about laying a damn finger on her, and I'll personally make sure you regret it, got it?"

"Come on, won't you share with your friend? She would definitely want to. If I could just catch her and..." he gestured and indicated things he would probably do.

Rimmer had never been a possessive or jealous man, but the thought of someone else with you made him want to punch a hole through the wall.

"Don't you dare. She's mine, you got that? She doesn't want anything to do with you, so keep your hands off her, you bastard."

"She's got a pretty nice ass, huh?"

At that moment, he couldn't hold back any longer, and he was probably used to all kinds of insults. He lunged at the other man without a second thought. He couldn't just sit there and listen to him talk about you like that, like you were a damn piece of meat.

He tackled the other man, taking him to the ground with a fierce growl. He sat on top of him, pinning him down, his hands clenched into fists. "Say that again, you bastard," he snarled.

"I would fuck her and leave you watch it, you poor thing!" he laughed at him.

He grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt, pulling him up off the ground for a moment. "You're an absolute bastard, you know that? You don't get to talk about her like that, to even think about touching her. She's my girlfriend, not yours!"

"Girlfriend? And is she okay with it?"

"Of course she's okay with it. She's the one that started this whole thing. She wanted to be with me, not you or any of the other assholes around here!"

"Then she must be sick like you, if she she chose you!"

He pulled the man even closer. "Don't you dare talk about her like that. She's not sick, she just has better taste than the rest of you bastards around here."

To his surprise, however, the other man punched him directly in the face to free his friend from his hold.

Before he could get up and say anything, the two of them kicked him on the ground and ran away.

He groaned, a mix of pain and frustration as he tried to push himself up off the ground. Damn it, he had never felt so humiliated, so weak...

He slowly limped into his room with a bloody nose.

"Rimmer, what happened to you?!" Lister immediately asked him.

He gave a small, forced laugh, trying to brush off his injuries. "Oh, nothing, just...a little disagreement with the chaps, that's all," he muttered, wincing again as he gingerly touched his bruised cheek.

"About what?"

"They asked if I was seeing someone," he admitted, a note of irritation in his voice. "And when I said I was, they didn't believe me. Said the only way anyone would be with me is if they were forced, drugged, or just plain sick in the head."

"Yeah, its hard to believe."

He let out a bitter, humorless laugh. "Yeah, tell me about it. Even when I have someone who actually cares about me, nobody else can believe it. It's ridiculous."

[justii15]

Also, several chapters have already been published!

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[justii15]

Gap in the defensive field (Arnold Rimmer x Reader) - Chapter 14

You can also read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/67036120/chapters/177341951

You no longer hid your affection for each other, yet neither of you craved any attention. Of course, those who noticed couldn't believe it.

Some people - the ones who had known Rimmer longer and knew his usual arrogant and obnoxious demeanor - were in shock at the thought of his being in a relationship, and with someone so attractive no less.

Others, on the other hand, were just plain jealous. They couldn't quite understand how Rimmer, the same guy they'd all thought would remain alone and bitter for the rest of his existence, had managed to win over a girl like you.

Arnold was taking a shower one evening while Lister was away when something covered his eyes.

He let out a startled yell as something was suddenly placed over his eyes, effectively blinding him. He stumbled back a bit, his hands instinctively reaching up to remove whatever had been covering his eyes.

"What the hell-?!" he sputtered, his voice a mix of surprise and annoyance. "Who the smeg is there?"

"Guess, smeggy," you said with laugh.

His heart immediately skipped a beat at the sound of your familiar voice, the nickname you'd given him immediately tipping him off who it was.

A small smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, the irritation he'd felt at being suddenly blinded quickly fading away.

"It's you, isn't it, you minx. You little tease, sneaking up on an unsuspecting man while he's in the shower."

He quickly took your hands away from his eyes, turned around, and didn't let go of your hands. Then his hands gripped your arms gently but firmly, pulling you against his body and trapping you against his damp chest. He couldn't help the low chuckle that rumbled from his throat as he held you captive.

"Sneak up on a man while he's naked and vulnerable, huh? You're a naughty one, aren't you?"

"Hey, I'm wet now!" you protested.

"Oh, I bet you are."

"You've never complained about being naked in front of me before."

"Right I haven't," he replied. He was pulling you even closer against him, your bodies now flush together. He leaned in, hot whisper in your ear. "You have no idea how many times I've thought about you seeing me like this, in the shower, all alone. Completely...naked."

"What? Why?"

"Why?" he repeated, his hands still holding you firmly against him. "Are you really asking me why? Every time the water runs down my skin, every time I'm all alone in here, I think of you. I imagine how it would feel to have you in here with me, your hands on me, your body against mine..."

"But I still have clothes..."

"Don't remind me," he muttered, his hands giving your hips an almost possessive squeeze. "You, all dressed and covered up like that, while I'm in here, naked and wet and aching for you. It's torturous, you know that?"

"Then do something about it," you teased.

Without waiting, he suddenly spun you around, pinning you against the cool, hard wall of the shower, his body pressing into you from behind.

His hands were everywhere, roaming over your body, as he nipped and nibbled at your neck. "You have no idea what you do to me, do you? Every time you tease and push my buttons like this... I can't help but want to take you right here, right now..."

"Where is the problem then?"

"The only problem is this damn shirt, being in the way of your skin," he growled into your ear, his lips tracing down your neck. "Why are you even wearing it, anyway? It's just adding unnecessary layers between us."

He discarded the shirt you'd been wearing, flinging it aside, and pulled you back against him. His hands roamed freely over your bare skin, tracing the curves and dips of your body, his touch light yet possessive.

"Much better," he murmured, his lips finding the soft skin of your shoulder, nipping and sucking at it gently. "I much prefer you like this, bare and against me. No clothes to get in the way of me touching every single inch of you."

"You're a drug, you know that? Just one taste, and I'm addicted," he added.

"But you’re still a smeghead…" you teased and gasped.

He chuckled against your skin. "Mmm, you say that, and yet here you are, all soft, hot, and bothered for this smeghead. I can hear it in your voice, feel it in the way you shiver when I touch you. You can call me a smeghead all you like, but your body's telling a different story, love."

He even took off your completely soaked pants and panties.

"This makes me want to do all sorts of... naughty things to you, love. You have no idea what you do to me."

"What naughty things exactly?" you inquired.

"You want to know what I'd like to do, darling?" He slid his hard cock between your thighs to play with you.

You gasped softly.

He moved his cock, tracing circular patterns against your sensitive, most intimate part, his own need growing with each small sound you made. "You like that, hm?"

You rested your palms on the wet tiles.

"You're beautiful like this. When you give me the opportunity to do things I like," he admitted. He liked to be dominant.

Without further ado, he entered you. Slowly but surely.

He closed his eyes and pressed his face into the crook of your neck, his breath ragged and labored as he fought to maintain some semblance of control. But it was a futile effort.

After his failures in his sex life, he enjoyed every moment with you. Wherever and however it was. Just when it was with you.

He felt a terrible desire. He sighed and dug his nails into your ass, supporting you as he did so.

"You're more addicting than any substance in the universe. I need you. I need to be inside you, so deep that there's no telling where I end and you begin," and he was not afraid to occasionally drop a remark that had until now only been in the depths of his mind.

You just enjoyed his every move and held him tight. He wasn't a champion in bed, but he quickly made up for his inexperience and became a good lover.

He continued to explore your body, his lips finding the sensitive spots on your neck, his teeth nipping and biting at your skin, leaving behind a trail of red marks and goosebumps.

He pulled you back against him, his body molding itself to yours, his lips finding your ear. "You have no idea how hard I'm holding back right now, love," he whispered "How badly I want to go all out on you."

"Don't hold on," you just said.

He let out a guttural moan, his body shaking with tension, his arms and legs trembling.

For a moment, he clung to you, his forehead pressed against your shoulder, his breathing ragged as the last remnants of his self-restraint shattered. "Bloody hell..." he murmured, "You have no idea what you do to me, love."

He still had a bit of trouble controlling himself, though. At the last second, he jerked away with a loud scream, letting it all spill out onto your stomach.

Luckily, the warm water washed it all away. He stopped pressing you against the wall, dropping you to the floor. You both rinsed off, put on your bathrobes, and went to bed, where you continued cuddling and kissing.

He buried his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, his hands roaming over your body, as if trying to memorize every inch of you.

"I can't get enough of you," he murmured, his voice low and heavy with the need that still coursed through him. "I swear, I could spend forever just holding you like this, feeling your heartbeat against mine."

"Wasn't it always your biggest dream to be a captain or at least an officer?" you asked.

"Yeah, I suppose you could say that. Why do you ask?"

"Because you haven't said this at all lately."

"I guess I haven't, have I?" he admitted "I suppose I've been too distracted to think about you and how is it to be with you," he admitted, burying his face in your damp hair.

[justii15]

Gap in the defensive field (Arnold Rimmer x Reader) - Chapter 13

You can also read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/67036120/chapters/176862156

From that moment on, you two started seeing each other in secret. But your roommate noticed that you had changed. She could also see a shift in your moods, how you'd go from happy and cheerful to quiet and reflective in the span of a few moments. She also noticed that you had started to wear a different perfume lately, a faint scent that they didn't quite recognize.

Your roommate tried to ask you about it a few times, but you brushed her off with a vague response, saying you were just feeling a little under the weather or that you had a lot on your mind. The truth was, you were spending your free time with Arnold Rimmer, and your roommate had no idea.

You had been seeing each other in secret for a couple of weeks now, stealing moments alone whenever possible, hidden away in the darkest corners of the ship or in the privacy of each other's quarters.

One evening, as you were getting ready for bed, your roommate approached you with a slightly concerned expression on her face. "Hey," she said softly, leaning against the doorframe of your shared quarters. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Yeah?"

"I've been meaning to ask you...is everything okay?" she finally asked cautiously. "You've been acting a bit different lately. Quiet, a little bit distant. Is something bothering you?"

"No? I'm perfectly fine."

"Are you sure?" she pressed gently, her voice filled with concern. "You know you can talk to me if something's wrong, right? You've never been this closed off before..."

"I'm not... closed."

"You are, though. You barely talk to me anymore, you're distant and distracted, and I can't remember the last time we spent any quality time together. I just...I want to know if something's going on with you."

"I'm just busy."

"Too busy for me? You've never been too busy to hang out with me before. What's changed?"

"I found someone, okay? Im sorry you feel this, but...i like him a lot."

Your roommate's eyes widened in surprise as you finally shared the truth with her. She had suspected it to an extent, but hearing you admit it out loud was still somewhat shocking.

"You...you found someone?" she repeated, a mix of shock and hurt in her voice. "And you didn't think to tell me? All this time, while I've been wondering what's been bothering you, thinking you were upset about something, you've been...seeing someone?"

"Yes, I'm seeing someone."

"And how long has this been going on? How long have you been seeing this mystery person?"

"Month."

"A month," she repeated quietly, a hint of disbelief in their tone. "A whole damn month, and I had no clue. Why didn't you tell me, huh? Why keep it a secret?"

"Because its better like that! For him..."

"For him?" she repeated incredulously. "And what about me? Your best friend for years? What about my feelings, huh?"

"Please understand. He is not exactly much popular..."

"Is that why...why you've been keeping it a secret?"

"Yeah…"

"But I still don't understand why?"

"What if he is idiot? Someone not popular? Someone like... Arnold Rimmer for example?"

Your roommate's jaw dropped at your example. Arnold Rimmer, the egotistical, pompous, and often annoying character aboard the ship? She couldn't help but burst into laughter at the thought.

"You...you're seeing Rimmer? The Rimmer? That smug bastard that nobody can stand?"

"I said what if!"

"Calm down," she said, still chuckling a bit. "I'm just messing with you, alright? Besides, there's no way you're seeing Rimmer. You've got better taste than that, right?"

"What if I don't do it?"

The smirk on your roommate's face faltered as you posed the question. She had expected denial, perhaps even a laugh at the absurdity of the idea, but your response was making her think twice.

"You...you're serious?" she sputtered, their smirk completely gone now. "You're seriously telling me there's a possibility you're seeing Rimmer? Rimmer, of all people?!"

"You know nothing about him! He is dick, yes, but he can be different!"

"Oh, really?" they said sarcastically. "And you know this how, exactly? Spend a lot of time with him, have you?"

"We talked a lot...and much more."

She knew exactly what you were implying, and the image of you and Rimmer doing more than 'talking' was not something she wanted to think about.

"Wait... wait, hold up," she sputtered, holding up a hand. "You're telling me you've not only been talking to Rimmer, but you've done 'more' as well?"

"Thats normal between people."

"Normal?" she repeated. "It's normal to 'talk' and 'do more' with someone who's got a reputation for being a grade-A jerk?"

"He's just acting like that. Inside, he's misunderstood, alone, and desperate."

"So...you really think there's more to him than just the pompous jerk act he puts on for everyone else?" she asked, a hint of curiosity in their tone. "You actually believe he's just...misunderstood and lonely?"

You nodded quietly.

"How can you be so sure? How can you trust that you're not just seeing what you want to see?"

"This is exactly why I didn't want to tell you about it. Because you don't know anything about it..." and you ran away from your room.

_______________________________________________

At the same moment, Rimmer was also in his room with Lister. Lister was reading a magazine and munching on biscuits, as the droplets fell onto Arnold's bed.

"Are you quiet... no angry scream?" Lister asked.

Rimmer glanced up at Lister, his expression a mix of boredom and irritation. He had been lost in his own thoughts.

"What?" he asked irritably. "No, I'm not annoyed, if that's what you're asking. Why? Did you want me to start yelling and throwing things?"

"No, you just always do that when I'm eating biscuits."

Rimmer rolled his eyes, a familiar sense of irritation creeping back in at Lister's comment. He knew the man was right; he had a habit of getting easily frustrated and lashing out anytime Lister tried to do something quiet or calm near him.

"Oh, shut up," he grumbled irritably. "Just because you enjoy it doesn't mean I have to suffer through it too."

Lister deliberately sprinkled another biscuit crumbs on his bed.

"Bloody hell, Lister!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with anger. "What the smeg do you think you're doing?!"

"I'm trying to find that annoying old Rimmer."

"You think you're funny, don't you?" he growled, irritation seeping into his every word. "Making a mess in my bunk and baiting me to get angry. It's childish and pathetic, Lister."

"So what's wrong with you? You're not yelling at me, you're ignoring me and you're still writing something."

"Nothing's wrong with me. And it's none of your business what I'm writing, so back off."

"Come on! You're finally starting to be annoying again!"

Rimmer bristled at Lister's insistence, his irritation mounting at the man's constant prying into his business. He slammed his diary shut with a frustrated sigh, turning to Lister with a scowl on his face.

"God damn it, Lister, can't a man have a moment of privacy without you sticking your nose in it?" he snapped, his voice dripping with irritation. "I'm writing something personal, alright? Is that a problem? But if you need to know… I'm writing about someone who's special. Someone who's been on my mind a lot lately, someone I've been getting pretty… close to."

"So, is there another platonic girl in your head?"

Rimmer couldn't help but smirk at Lister's sarcastic comment. He knew Lister was being flippant, but a part of him wanted Lister to realize that there was something more than just a 'platonic' girl in his head.

"Oh, how hilarious," he said sardonically, rolling his eyes. "Very witty. No, it's not some imaginary girl. It's someone real, Lister. Someone here on the ship with us."

"But there's no one here who doesn't hate you."

"And what the hell makes you so sure there's not a single soul here who could possibly tolerate me, huh?"

"Because no one can stand you, Rimmer. If you are writing to your mom you could say it."

"It's not my bloody mother, Lister!" he snapped. "It's someone else. Someone who...who actually enjoys my company, unlike you and most people on this godforsaken ship."

"So elevator? Even vending machines hates you here."

Rimmer threw his hands up in frustration, finally losing his temper completely. Lister was really pushing all the right buttons, and his last remark about the god damn vending machines hating him sent him over the edge.

"Oh, for smeg's sake, Lister! Are you just going to list every single entity on this ship that supposedly hates me? Is that it? Elevator, vending machines, what's next - the goddamn walls and floorboards?"

"I just don't believe you! You and the girl?"

Arnold sighed. This was no use. He pulled himself together and left.

________________________________________________

Rimmer, still fuming from his argument with Lister, stormed down the corridor, his fists clenched in anger.

But then, as he turned a corner, he suddenly collided with someone, the unexpected impact making him stumble back a bit. He cursed under his breath, looking up to see who he had bumped into.

"Arnie?" You said. You were also just running away from your roommate.

His expression softened in an instant when he heard your voice, the sound instantly calming the raging storm inside him.

"Oh, thank god it's you," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I was half expecting to collide with Lister again. I swear, that man is like a bloody magnet, always somehow getting on my nerves-"

"Lister? I also just had a not-so-pleasant conversation with my roommate..."

He took a step closer to you, his voice gentle and concerned. "Hey, what happened? What was the fight about?"

"She found out im with you and.... She was mad. That i could have anyone, how im stupid when im with you...

"She said all that? That you're stupid for being with me, and that you could have anyone? What the hell is her problem?"

"You are the problem."

"Me?" he repeated, an edge of defensiveness in his voice. "She has a problem with me? You mean to tell me she's been giving you hell because of us being together?"

"Yeah, she just doesn't like you either. What about you and Lister?"

"My personal business!" Rimmer snapped back, his irritation flaring up again. "I was just minding my own business, writing something in my diary, when Lister comes along and suddenly it's his business to know what's in there. He can't just respect a bit of goddamn personal space and leave me alone for ten minutes, can he? No, he has to pry and ask questions and stick his nose where it doesn't belong. It's infuriating, I tell you."

You were shocked when he yelled at you.

Rimmer froze as he saw the look of shock on your face, realizing that he had inadvertently snapped at you in the heat of his anger.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... shout at you like that. It's just that Lister...he gets on my nerves, and the way he was prying into my business and making smartass comments, it just drives me up the wall. I shouldn't have taken it out on you, though."

He sighed. "Lister and the rest of the crew... they never believe me when I say I've got someone special in my life. They always assume I'm alone, that I'm some pathetic, lonely bastard and...it pisses me off. They have no idea how much you mean to me..."

"...and the way they tease and make fun of me for being alone, it's...it's infuriating, really," Rimmer continued. "Like Lister, for example. He's always making snide remarks about how I'm a lonely slob, and how no one would ever want to be with me. It's like...he and everyone else just think I'm some kind of pathetic loser, some kind of joke. But I'm not. Damn it, I'm not like that anymore."

You hugged him. He tensed for a moment, feeling a bit awkward and unsure how to react before slowly, tentatively, he returned the hug. It was a rare moment of vulnerability for him, and he allowed himself to let down his guard for a brief moment.

"God, I've needed this..." he muttered, his voice muffled against your shoulder. His arms tightened around you, almost as if he was trying to hold on a bit tighter, a mix of relief and gratitude in his voice. "You've no idea how exhausting it is, putting up with Lister and the others, pretending like all their little digs and comments don't get to me. It's nice just...just having this moment with you, where I don't have to act like I'm hardass all the time."

"Then let's not hide it anymore, if it helps," you suggested.

He picked you up and spun you around. He felt something he had never felt before.

"You...you don't know what you're doing to me. You make me feel things I've never felt before. I just...I don't want to hide anymore. I want to be with you. Always."

But then he grinned sinisterly. "Just let Lister see that for once I'm not making this up."

He put you back on the ground. "There's...there's something else I need to tell you. Something I've never told anyone before."

"What is it?"

"I... I think I'm... falling in love with you," he confessed with honesty. "I can't stop thinking about you, dreaming about you, wanting you."

You looked at him with shock, but then you moved closer.

"I can't stop thinking about you too. Crazy, right? About that Arnold Rimmer..."

The shock of hearing you admit that you couldn't stop thinking about him, about him, Arnold Rimmer, was overwhelming, but in the best possible way.

He let out a small, disbelieving laugh. "You're mad, you know that, right? You could have anyone in the bloody universe, and yet you're saying you're thinking about me? Good old Rimmer?"

"Smeghead Arnold Rimmer," you laughed.

He chuckled, a small, genuine smile spreading across his face. "And yet here we are, you stuck with the same smeghead you just admitted has been on your mind more than he should. What does that say about you, huh?"

"That I don't just want to dream about you."

"You...you want more? You want the actual, smeghead version?"

You nodded.

"You...you really, truly...love me," he repeated.

[justii15]

Gap in the defensive field (Arnold Rimmer x Reader) - Chapter 12

You can also read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/67036120/chapters/176698166

Little bit of NSFW

"The boiler room in Block C, you say?" he asked, his interest piqued despite his earlier self-pitying. "What's wrong with it?"

You shrugged. "They didn't tell me that."

"Well, that's helpful," he muttered, sarcasm dripping from his words. "So we're just supposed to figure out what's wrong with the boiler without any bloody clue what we're looking for?"

You went to block C. But when you entered the room, at first glance there didn't seem to be anything wrong.

"Huh, everything seems fine," he said, scratching his head in confusion. "There doesn't seem to be anything obviously broken or malfunctioning..."

"But yeah, there is something..."

Rimmer raised an eyebrow. "But is it...what?" he prompted, wondering what you were getting at. Nothing seemed to be leaking or malfunctioning. There was just an old, unused boiler, an old sofa, and a few boxes.

"There is one broken boy..." and you collapsed onto the couch with him.

"What the...?"

You started kissing him.

He froze as your lips met his, his eyes widening in surprise. He wanted to pull away, to protest, but something about the unexpectedness of the moment made his heart skip a beat.

He found himself melting into the kiss, his hands instinctively coming up to rest on your hips. He was conflicted, his mind still screaming at him to stop, but his body was responding on pure instinct, his lips moving against yours hungrily.

You sat on his lap and tried to unbutton his shirt again.

"Wait..." he murmured.

"No, no wait."

"This is a bad idea," he rasped. "We shouldn't be doing this here. Someone could walk in-"

"No one is here. Please... try to relax. I'm not expecting anything," you reassured him.

Easy for you to say," he protested.

You tried to ignore his complaints. You stroked his cheeks, his hair, kissed him, and sat on him.

Rimmer's heart was pounding in his chest as you toyed with him, your touch sending jolts of pleasure through his body. He let out a low groan as your hand found its way to his pants.

"God, you're driving me Ivane. I can't think straight when you touch me like that."

But the anxiety was creeping back in, taking over his senses and reminding him of all his insecurities.

"Wait," he said, his voice suddenly panicked. "Wait, stop. We can't… I can't…."

His hand came up to grab yours, stopping you from going any further. He was torn between his desire and his fears, his eyes filled with a mixture of lust and hesitation.

"Arnie, please..."

"I…" he began, his voice shaky, "I'm scared. I don't know what I'm doing, I don't know how to….I don't know how to please you."

"Just be here. And everything will be fine, you'll see!"

"Just be here," he repeated. "Alright. Just… just don't expect too much from me. I've never…" He swallowed, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"Shhhhh," you told him, carefully slipping your hand into the waistband of his pants.

You slowly slid your hand into his shorts and pulled out his cock. You took it in your palm and started to play with it slowly.

Arnold let out a low moan as you touched him, his hips rocked up to meet your touch.

"You have no idea what you're doing to me. I can't think straight when you touch me like this."

You just smiled at him.

"Why are you grinning like that?" he chuckled.

"Just like that," you smiled again.

Arnold tilted his head back and tried to catch his breath. Those touches, gentle and yet arousing something huge in him.

"How could I have been such an idiot and wanted to run away just a minute ago..." he gasped.

When you saw that he was ready enough, you stopped. "Can we move on then?" you smiled mischievously.

"Yes," he ground out. "God, yes. Move on, please."

You pulled his pants down to his ankles and straddled his thighs as he sat on the couch. You slowly slid down to the tip of his cock, directing it as you needed.

Rimmer's head was swimming with a mixture of pleasure and disbelief as you slowly sat on top of him, taking him in. It was everything he had been aching for, everything he had been fantasizing about since the moment he had first laid eyes on you.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this."

You slowly started sliding up and down on him. "See? Nothing to worry about, Arnie..." You gasped.

"God, say my name again."

"My Arnie," you pushed down even harder

"Yours, all yours," he panted, his grip on your hips tightening as he pulled you down to meet him. "All yours, all damn night if you'll have me."

He was a little uncertain at first, the new sensations overwhelming him and his fear of not being good enough for you still lingering in the back of his mind. But he was determined to try. He pushed his insecurities aside for the moment, focusing solely on pleasing you, on being good for you.

He let you lead the way, following your every move with a mixture of eagerness and hesitation.

But then you slowed down. "Do you mind me being on top? You always wanted to be in control..."

His eyes widened at your question, his breath catching in his throat. He had to admit, the idea of you taking control was...arousing.

"No, I...I don't mind," he said. "I trust you. You...you can be on top. I want...I...oh god."

But his body was not at all used to this sensation, and after just a few minutes he began to feel pressure in his lower abdomen. His body was tensing up, and he knew he was close.

"I-" he panted, trying to warn you. "I don't think I can hold back much longer."

But before he could finish telling you to slow down, he couldn't hold back and cum inside you with a loud moan.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't...hold back...." He slumped back against the couch, a mixture of exhaustion and guilt etched across his face.

You stopped and saw on his face that he felt humiliated, like he had disappointed you.

"I should have had more control. I just...you felt so good, and I couldn't help myself. God, I feel like such a failure."

"No, its...normal when you...you know, do it for the first time," you explained to him.

He was surprised by your understanding and acceptance of his lack of control. He had expected you to be disappointed or even irritated with him, but instead, you seemed almost...sympathetic.

"You're not mad?" he asked. "I...I should have been better. I should have lasted longer, made it good for you."

You put finger on his mouth. "Of course im not mad."

"You're...not?" he asked, not quite believing your words. "But...I came so quickly. I...I didn't please you."

"Thats not important right now. Plus there is more way how to please someone."

"More...ways?" he repeated, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

Without a word, you guided his hand to your crotch.

He felt very nervous, but he understood. He started moving his hand in gentle circular motions, looking into your eyes. As if he wanted to know how you would react to the different movements and hives.

He quickly knew from your face what you liked and sped up. He actually liked what he was doing to you and how you were reacting to him.

Although it was careless at first, he quickly gained courage and a sly smile appeared on his face. It was the first time a girl had made such beautiful and passionate sounds because of him.

You gritted your teeth. "Kiss me!"

Without a moment's hesitation, he leaned in and captured your lips in a deep, searing kiss. His hand continued to move between your thighs, but his attention was now completely consumed by your mouth.

"Faster..."

He pressed harder against your heated flesh, his touch no longer hesitant or cautious. He could feel you squirming and shifting under his hands, and the thought that he was the one causing this reaction in you only served to fan the flames of his desire.

You bit his lower lip, your nails digging into his cheeks.

Rimmer groaned into the kiss as he felt your nails digging into his cheeks, the slight pain only adding to the intensity of the moment. He could feel the desperate need and desire in your kisses. He wanted to push you over the edge, to make you moan and cry out his name.

Until you finally cried out.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue dancing with yours in a heated tango, until you grabbed his hand tightly to stop him.

Arnold leaned back against the coach, his breathing ragged and uneven. He was still reeling from the intensity of the moment, the taste of you still on his tongue, and the image of you coming apart under his touch was still fresh in his mind.

He looked at you, taking in your flushed cheeks and disheveled hair. He felt a mix of emotions swirling inside of him - satisfaction, desire, and a hint of something else he couldn't quite name.

He ran a hand through his hair. He could still see the way you had looked at him, the way you had clung to him, and the sound of your cries echoed in his ears.

"That was..."

"New?"

Rimmer let out a soft chuckle at your question, his gaze flickering to yours. "Yeah, definitely new," he admitted with a grin.

He ran a hand through his hair again. "But good," he added, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability.

He paused, then added, "You...you liked it, right?"

"I did."

He smiled at you, his expression softening slightly. "Good," he said simply. "I...I wanted to make you feel good."

Despite the physical intimacy they had just shared, there were still unspoken things simmering underneath the surface between them. Rimmer could feel it, the lingering tension that hadn't quite dissipated even after the passion between them had died down.

He glanced at you, noting the way your eyes avoided his gaze for a moment. There was something on your mind, something you were clearly holding back. It was a feeling he was all too familiar with.

"Hey," he said softly. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah?"

"You don't regret...this, do you?" he asked cautiously, gesturing vaguely to the space between the two of you, hinting at the intimate moment they had just shared.

"No, of course not."

"Why...me? I mean, you could have anybody you wanted. So why me?"

You laughed. "I dont know, you are egoistic, but i felt that deep down... You just want someone. And even when we hated each other first..."

He just smiled and ran his finger over her shoulder. "What are we? What...what is this thing between us? It's been a rollercoaster ride so far, and I'm honestly not sure what to make of it."

"What would you say... or what would you like?"

Rimmer paused for a moment, considering your question. It was a simple question, but it felt like loaded with so many different meanings.

"I...I don't know," he admitted, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability. "All I know is that..I like this. Being with you. Being...close to you."

"What do you want to be?"

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he considered your question. It was the same question he had been asking himself for what felt like weeks now.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. "Honestly, no bullshit. I want you. In my life. And not just...as friends."

"Then?"

"Then I'd want to be...more. Something more meaningful. I'd want a real relationship with you, if you'd have me."

You took his hand in yours.

"Just...tell me you want this too," he said softly.

You nodded. "But can we keep this to ourselves for a little while longer? Just the two of us, without any taunts from the others on the ship, you know what they are like."

He gripped your hands a little tighter, his hold on them firm yet gentle. "Yeah," he said softly. "Just the two of us for now. I can deal with the guys' bullshit when the time comes."