#rimmer fic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

secondtechnicianrimmer · 3 months

Text

Space Corp. Directive #1215225

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

Pairing: Arnold Rimmer x (F) Reader

Warnings: None! A bit of ya know snogging

Chapter Four: Time Slides

The Cat had told you about it ages ago, when you asked to hear about how he first met Lister and Rimmer. There were hundreds of stories from those early days, how Lister awoke from stasis to find the whole crew dead, how they faced sickness and time leaks and the dreadful Queeg, how Lister was actually a god to all Felis Sapiens, and how Rimmer had once duplicated himself out of spite. That thought certainly kept you happy for a few nights.

But one of the most intriguing stories had been about this machine, a VR video game sent in a long-awaited post pod. Better Than Life could give you everything and anything you wanted: a different job, better friends, a new life. And it had been completely forgotten about.

After hunting high and low through the ship’s countless rooms, you finally found the disc, covered in dust and horribly scratched. Feeling deflated, you almost didn’t bother seeing if the old thing worked, but you took it back to your quarters and slipped it into your personal computer.

It took a few minutes, the disc was well over 3 million years old now, as was the computer system designed to play it. With a little help from Holly, you got the game booted up and ready.

“Holly? Could you deadlock the doors?” You settled onto your bunk and got yourself comfy. “I don’t wanna be interrupted.”

“No prob, mate. Doin’ it now.”

The headset felt uncomfortable and clunky as you lowered it onto your head. Static filled your eardrums, then a start up sound, reedy with age.

You closed your eyes. Or were they closed for you by the game? You didn’t have a second more to think about it.

When your eyes opened again, you had to narrow them against the smoke billowing out all around you. The game had placed you in a stark, metal corridor, not unlike those of Red Dwarf, except here the lights were low, casting purple and red shadows across your path.

You walked forward, following the corridor until you reached a huge, metal door. It opened for you, and bright, white light spilled out.

“Ow!” You raised your arm to shield your eyes. “Fuckin’ hell, that’s-”

You were on Callisto.

Blinking against the harsh sun, you tried to get your bearings. After years of unnatural light and synthetic oxygen, standing in the middle of the market square of your home moon felt almost too much to bear, even if this too was artificial. But it felt real. The stone cobbles beneath your feet, the gentle wind tangling in your hair… It felt so real, you could cry.

The warm sun, the source of all life in this system, greeted you like an old friend. Basking in her light, you held your arms aloft and breathed in home.

“Oi! Move it, sweetheart!”

You jumped back, eyes wide, just as a man rushed past, pushing a flower cart so heavy, he was almost walking horizontally.

“Sorry! Sorry.”

The market was heaving, just as you remembered it. If what the boys said of Earth was true, then all human life had died out in this system long, long ago. Three million years. Everyone you knew, everyone you loved, everyone you saw in this market every day, was gone. But you’d known that for a while now. So why did it make you so sad?

“Maybe not your best idea…” you said out loud to yourself.

Across the cobbles, a woman behind a stall called to you, offering up soaps pressed into the shape of flowers, stars, and moons. A clock chimed at the other end of the square, marking noon. There was music in the air, and the smell of freshly baked bread. If this really was all gone, you decided, you should enjoy it while you could.

Arms swinging, you took your time at every stall. Obviously, you had no need for money aboard Red Dwarf, but you noticed that every time you wanted to buy something, you could find exactly the right amount of change in the pockets of your Atalanta IV jacket.

“C’mon, darlin’! Fresh fruit and veg. You won’t get this lot past Saturn, I’ll tell you that for free, my love.”

“Celebrate the New Lunar Cycle properly, ladies, gents and others! We’ve got everything you need to throw the ultimate Gratification Day celebration.”

“Fuuurrrss! Get your genuine synthetic Ganymedian fuuuuurs.”

Nothing had changed. Life here looked just as it did the day you left for the stars.

“What do you do…” you mused aloud. “When you can do anything.”

It came to you fairly quickly. Really, you only came here for one reason. The moment The Cat had finished describing how the game worked and what it was capable of, the idea popped into your head and made itself at home there. But there was something else you wanted to try first.

You blinked and you were indoors. It was the very definition of an expensive, elegant restaurant. Of course it was. This whole world was built from pictures in your mind.

A high ceiling arched above your head, where chandeliers twinkled like bursting stars and wide windows opened up the night sky to you. In a blink, you’d arrived at evening. Time changed however you wanted it to here.

Round tables covered in pristine white cloth dotted the room. The guests, all dressed up to the nines, sipped champagne from sparkling crystal glasses, while penguin-like waiters zigzagged between them, holding silver trays aloft. At the entrance, the maître d' knew your name and bowed as you approached him.

“Oh, God.”

You looked down, suddenly panicked. You weren’t dressed nearly nice enough for a place like this. But as soon as you thought of it, your comfortable shirt and joggers transformed into the ceremonial uniform you’d only worn once or twice.

“Okay, this might be a bit much.”

You didn’t have a chance to change. Through the low hum of chatter and the light scrape of cutlery against plates, you heard someone calling your name.

And there they all were, sitting around a table as if nothing had happened. Alive. They were all alive. Montgomery, Falstaff, Mortimer, Stanley, Talbot and Shallow. Your captain, your friends, your crew. Dazzling in their own dress uniforms, they raised their glasses as you shakily approached their table.

“You’re late, Lieutenant!” Major Montgomery declared, though she was smiling. “Come, take a seat.”

“You almost missed the starters.”

Captain Falstaff, the head of Xenolinguistics aboard the Atalanta IV and your friend, poured you a drink as you sat down beside her.

On your other side, First Officers Mortimer and Stanley were eagerly tucking into their dinners.

It had been eight months since you last saw their faces. To hear their voices again almost made you shudder. It was too ghostly, too ghoulish. These people, your friends, they were long dead, as you should be. It was good to see them smiling.

Second Lieutenant Talbot beamed at you across the table.

“First class place, this,” he said. “I’ve always wanted to come here.”

“They wouldn’t let the likes of you in, usually,” Officer Shallow snorted.

They bickered like schoolboys, just as they always did, just as you remembered.

In fact, everything was as you remembered, like these people had been plucked from your mind and placed here to entertain you. The major’s dark hair, greying around her temples. Captain Falstaff’s habit of tugging at her earring. The ring of laughter that always leapt up whenever Talbot told a story.

They existed now, only in memory. But you’d brought them back. You weren’t sure how to feel about that but it was good to see your friends again. You’d missed them so much.

Together, you ate dinner and told stories of old times. Though you’d only been on a mission together for a few years before the disaster that upturned your life, there were plenty of good memories to revisit.

Who knows how long you spent there. It could have been days, for all you knew. Time meant nothing here. What felt like hours could be just a few minutes in the real world, you really had no clue.

In the middle of Shallow reminiscing about their first days together aboard the ship, his gaze was caught by something over your shoulder. He smiled and gestured with one hand.

“Friend of yours, Lieutenant?”

Confused, you looked around, only to find Rimmer standing behind you. His appearance startled you so much, you shot up out of your chair.

“Arnold?”

You blinked at him, trying to figure out why and how he could be here in your world, and all the while, you couldn’t put your finger on what was so different about him. He was dressed in his usual emerald green uniform, smart as ever. But he looked off somehow, like there was a piece missing, but you couldn’t think- Oh.

“Your-”

You stared at his forehead, where the tell-tale H should have been.

“You’re-”

Surprise morphed into pure shock as Rimmer smiled and took your hand.

“Come with me. Excuse us, gentlemen, ladies.”

He led you away from your old crew, following a winding path through the tables. So startled and so dumbfounded by the feeling of his hand in yours, you barely took any notice of where he was taking you. All you could do was stare at your entwined fingers, entranced by the sensation of his skin touching yours at last, his long fingers strong and deft.

When you next looked up, you were outside a familiar door. The restaurant had melted away without you noticing, and had transformed into the apartments you called home before you left for the next galaxy.

The change in setting was jarring enough to bring you back to your senses.

“Rimmer-”

He somehow pushed open the door to your flat without needing the key, and pulled you inside.

“Arnie, wait. What’s going-”

You didn’t get a chance to take in your home, which you hadn’t seen in three million years. The moment the door closed behind you, you were pressed up against it.

Rimmer’s body crowded yours, his big hands on your waist, his lovely curly hair brushing your cheek as he bent his head and murmured by your ear.

“I love it when you call me that.”

You gasped softly as his hands slipped down to cradle your hips, his fingers pressing in just as his lips grazed your neck.

You didn’t stop to ask how this could be possible. The Cat had said that Better Than Life knew what you wanted most in all the world, all the cosmos. Turns out, he was right.

“You’re all warm,” you whispered, not trusting your voice not to shake as you let your hands rest against his firm chest.

“Hmm, whose fault is that?”

Rimmer practically purred the words against your throat. His breath tickled your skin, then his lips followed, pressing soft, tiny kisses up the length of your neck until he’d reached just below your ear. You practically melted in his strong arms.

Still, through the heavy haze that drowned your senses, there was a seed of doubt.

“This isn’t right,” you said, tilting your head back so that you could meet his eyes. “You’re not real.”

Rimmer smiled softly. And there was another giveaway that this place, as wonderful as it could be, was nothing more than simulated pixels and a clever mind probe. You couldn’t recall Rimmer ever smiling at you so sweetly. The game was learning.

“But I’m here, aren’t I?”

He took your hands again and led you deeper into the living room. You itched to explore your old flat, now more like a diorama of early 22nd century living than a warm home. But you couldn’t look away from Rimmer’s eyes.

“I’m talking, walking… You can touch me, at last. I know how desperately you want to touch me.”

He smiled again, a wicked smile that made your face burn. That was a little more like him.

“It’s all in your head. I know everything you know. Which means I also know all the naughty things you think about doing to me.”

He finally let go of your hands. Rimmer flopped down on the sofa, making himself comfy. Still his eyes didn’t leave yours.

“It’s enough to make a computer simulation blush.”

You looked away, more annoyed than embarrassed. Your Rimmer, the real Rimmer, also liked to tease you, to argue with you, and you never let him get the better of you.

“Shut up.”

“He’d probably like most of it. Some of it he’d love.”

“If you’re made up of my wants and desires, you’re just saying what I want to hear.”

“You’re not the only one who uses this machine, you know.”

That got your attention.

“Arnold?”

Rimmer shrugged.

“A few times.”

Your mind whirled at the idea. This could very well be just the game telling you what it knew you wanted to be true. Rimmer had never mentioned the game and had only a faint recollection of it when Cat brought it up, but he was good at hiding his feelings. Much better than you, anyway.

With a sigh, you motioned for Rimmer to get up.

“Would you just come here?”

He smiled up at you, his head cocked to one side.

“You want to sate your curiosity, is that it? Before you risk everything and make a fool of yourself, you want to see if it’s worth it. If I’m worth it.”

He uncrossed his legs, a blatant invitation.

“What I’ll feel like…”

“Rimmer-”

He shook his head.

“You don’t call me that when it’s just us. You like to call me Arn. Arnie.”

“You’re not him. You’re just a computer game.”

“Handsome one, though.”

He winked at you. And that was very Rimmer.

You couldn’t help it, you smiled. This was a game, one you’d designed for yourself and chosen to play. You knew this is how it would go when you put on that headset. So why fight it?

“I said, c’mere.”

Slowly, Rimmer stood up from the sofa. When he spoke again, his voice was low and soft, just as you’d imagined it would be.

“He’d love you bossing him about. He’s ever so respectful of authority.”

He stopped in front of you. Had he always been so tall? It was driving you wild.

Those hands rose up to rest on your hips again, so warm through all your clothes. Your breath hitched as he bent his head, though only to graze the tip of his nose along your cheek.

“He thinks about you in your uniform, you know,” he murmured, and squeezed your hips for good measure.

Your heart jumped. Rimmer had only seen you in your uniform once, when the Dwarfers found you in the wreckage of the Atalanta IV. But you weren’t fully conscious for that, so where did the game get it from? Unless it wasn’t lying and Rimmer really had logged in recently.

There was a glint in his eye as he reached up to tuck your hair behind your ear. You watched the corner of Rimmer’s mouth as he grazed his fingertips along the underside of your jaw, his touch so light you had to hold back a shiver. You could watch him explore you for hours.

But if this was your paradise, a world you shaped for yourself from your own wants and desires, then this is not how it would go.

You reached up and slipped your fingers through Rimmer’s hair at the base of his skull and pulled tight. It made him gasp, his eyes squeezing shut, but his open mouth told you it wasn’t out of pain.

Tucking your foot between his, you forced him to twist round until his back was against the door. He hit it a little harder than you intended, but, Io, if it didn’t send a thrill through you.

You leaned in close, your fingers still tightly fisted in his hair, and watched his mouth as he panted breathlessly.

“So handsome…” You pressed your face into the crook of his neck and grazed your teeth there, retaliation for earlier. “I knew you’d be a good boy for me.”

“Oh, darling…” Rimmer’s back arched away from the door, keening under your touch. “Been so long since I’ve been able to feel anything, you’re going to make me- God, been three million years since anyone touched me, darling…”

That made you bite your lip, swallowing down a groan. The idea that none of this was real was growing fainter and fainter in your mind, drowned out by the soft whine Rimmer let out as you pushed your knee between his thighs.

“Christ, darling…”

He huffed, flustered, then suddenly, his eyes met your again, a lot softer and darker than they were earlier.

“Or is it ‘love’?” he said. “Been three million years since anyone touched me, love. Christ, love.” Rimmer raised his eyebrows. “You’ve wondered about that. I know you have. Wondered what I might call you. ‘Lefty’ is for the others but you want him to think you’re special. And I’ll let you in on a little secret… He does.”

His hands found your hips again. Your dress uniform had disappeared and you were back in your shirt and joggers. Rimmer’s hands were so warm, you could feel every inch of them through your clothes.

“I’ve seen all his little fantasies…”

Rimmer pulled you closer, moving your hips until you were practically grinding against each other. It made your voice catch in your throat, your mind going blank.

He grinned, a very Arnold grin that was as arrogant as it was charming, the kind that left you unsure if you wanted to punch him or kiss him.

“He’s a noisy one.”

You didn’t doubt that at all. The way he went on, always needing to have the last word and whining constantly about the others. You knew he’d be a talker, but the thought still made your blood pump a little faster.

“Don’t worry,” You took his wrists and pinned them down by his sides. “I’ve got lots of plans for him, as soon as he gets his body back.”

“If he gets his body back.” Rimmer gave you a pointed look. “You should tell him. Me. You should tell me how you feel.”

The change in conversation made you frown.

“But you just said, what if he never gets his body back?”

“Why should that matter?”

“Well, we wouldn’t be able to…”

You looked down at his wrists, still held tight in your hands; your tangle of legs that allowed him to rock his hips into yours and offer you the friction you’d be craving ever since you entered the flat; and his lips, so close to yours.

He still hadn’t kissed you. Maybe something in the back of your mind simply revered it too much. A quick fumble against the wall, that was fun, that was dizzying, but a kiss? That was too intimate, something weirdly sacred.

Who knows how many times you’d watched Rimmer talk about his favourite telephone poles, or the exciting possibility of aliens, or one of his past lives, drenched in military glory, and daydreamed about how it would feel to slip your hand around his jaw, run your thumb across his cheek, and kiss him so sweetly, he never doubted himself again.

“You like me for me,” Rimmer bent his head and brushed the tip of his nose against yours. “You’re probably the only one in the cosmos.”

You frowned.

“Don’t say that.”

“You see? Always the first to defend me.”

His soft, fond smile made your chest lurch.

The change in pace was disorienting, and the mist was starting to clear from your mind. You had almost forgotten where you were for a moment, forgotten that this wasn’t real and this wasn’t Rimmer.

“You love me. I think that transcends the physical.”

You blanched.

“No one said anything about love.”

“No, no, you’re right. What do I know? I’m just a projection of your psyche.”

Your gut twisted.

It was a sensation you knew you would have no chance describing to anyone else. He spoke so casually, as if it were an undeniable fact, as if you feeling anything more than an embarrassing affection for Rimmer was comparable to the mechanics of gravity or thermal dynamics.

But it wasn’t true. It wasn’t. You weren’t in love with the idiot, you just fancied him a bit. Years in deep space without much in the way of physical touch made you do stupid things. He was handsome. He was funny, sometimes. He was nice to you. That didn’t mean you liked him. That definitely didn’t mean you loved him. The idea was laughable.

But the Rimmer that wasn’t Rimmer was looking down at you, his gaze soft yet steady. He wasn’t real, but he was a projection of your wants, needs, desires, and dreams. Everything he said and did was constructed by your own mind. But you couldn’t deal with that right now. You just couldn’t.

“I should go.”

You carefully untangled yourself from Rimmer. He didn’t protest but you could feel his eyes on you as you straightened out your clothes. Cheeks burning, you tugged at your shirt, pulling it back into place. You hadn’t even realised he’d undone a couple of buttons.

“Thanks for-” You flapped a hand in his general direction, then, feeling painfully awkward, you added, “You were lovely. See you later.”

You turned to leave. You weren’t even sure where you planned to go. Back to the restaurant? To see what else there was to explore here? None of that seemed to matter now. Your heart was pounding in your ears, your body still warm from Rimmer’s wandering hands.

You didn’t get far. One of those lovely hands wrapped around your wrist before you could take another step.

“Wait! Before you go…”

Rimmer gently pulled you back to him. He was so tall, his inclined head meant his curls fell across his forehead, where his H should have been.

“Just one little kiss?” Rimmer raised his eyebrows, his gaze already drifting down to your lips. “That’s what you came here for isn’t it?”

And there it was. The truth at last. Ashamed, you had to look away.

While working in the ship's darkroom, Kryten discovered that the developing fluid had, over the millions of years that Red Dwarf had been drifting aimlessly through space, mutated. They could make photographs come to life.

Not only that, you soon found that you could step through and explore photos and slides, so long as you kept within their borders. Lister soon found a way to change history. Idiotic as this was, it was exhilarating too. You had time travel.

Then it all went blank for a while. As Kryten later explained, after everything had calmed down considerably, changing one aspect of history meant that Lister never joined the Space Corps. This led to no Cat, no Kryten, and no you.

The next thing you knew, everything was back to normal. Despite the odd, sickening feeling that sat in your chest - a by-product of suddenly not existing in one time stream and reappearing in another - you felt okay.

You only heard the shouting when you were halfway out of the cargo bay door.

“I’m alive!”

It made you stop in your tracks.

“Textures! I can feel, I can fondle! Don't you think it’s incredible! I! Am! Alive!”

The explosion rocked the cargo bay. By some miracle, you, Cat and Lister were well out of its reach. It didn’t seem to bother the boys, this was all just another day for them, but when you realised what had happened, you thought you might be sick.

Later, when Rimmer was bemoaning being a hologram again and Kryten was explaining everything that had happened one more time, just so you could wrap your head around it all, it dawned on you that you’d missed an opportunity you would never meet again.

For just a few minutes, Rimmer had been alive. He was here, he was solid, he was real. You could have touched him. You could have held him. You could have grabbed him by his stupid face and pulled him into a kiss so outrageously good, he’d never ever want to stop.

But you missed it. You missed him. And now you were stuck again, uncertain and confused and scared of your own feelings.

It’s why you wanted to try Better Than Life. It’s why you wanted to find Rimmer here. You thought if you finally got to feel him, feel the warmth of him, feel his hands against your skin and his mouth against yours, it might cure a crush that had been steadily growing with every passing day. And the game knew it.

“Just one kiss.” Rimmer raised his index finger. “One kiss, darling. I know how badly you want to. You’ve been dreaming about it for so long now.”

“Shut up. I haven’t.”

Rimmer spread his hands.

“Arguing with yourself. I don’t need to point out the irony there, do I?”

“Arnie…”

He smiled.

“He really does love it when you call him that. And if it helps, he’s been dreaming about you too.”

The question sat on the tip of your tongue but you refused to give this Not Rimmer the satisfaction. Still, your mind span. It must have shown on your face because he smiled.

“It’s true, darling. He dreams about exactly this. Just you and him. He dreams about what you might do to him the moment you get him alone. And I’ve seen all your dreams too. I know everything. That one the other night? My, my… Shutting him up at last by sitting on his f-”

You were playing right into his hands, you knew that. You also didn't care. Time to get what you came here for.

You cupped Rimmer’s face between your hands and pulled him down to kiss you, hard. He let out a little ‘mmpf!’ of surprise, just like you knew he would, because the thought of him being sweetly stunned, and the little noises that came with it, had always turned you on, and this game was designed to please you.

Rimmer soon got over his shock. He kissed you back, matching your intensity, and let you push him up against the door without a fight. It was his hands finding your hips again that brought you back down to reality.

Heart hammering, you broke away.

Rimmer’s eyes were still closed, his lips slightly parted. When he did finally open them, he looked dazed, like he couldn’t think straight, couldn’t think at all. You knew how he felt.

There. You’d kissed him. And it was good. You got what you came for. You should go now. Who knows how long you’d been in the game. What if the boys were looking for you?

But then Rimmer smiled softly. He reached up and brushed his fingertips against your cheek. You both knew it would be your last chance to touch each other. You weren’t coming back here.

“You know,” he said quietly, all the mischief and antagonism gone from his tone, like your kiss had knocked it out of him. “I’m serious, love. You should tell him. He’s never going to believe it otherwise.”

“He won’t believe me anyway. And what if he doesn’t feel the same way? And he’s a hologram, I-”

“He will. He does. And… So what?”

Rimmer’s smile was a little sad. But then his gaze dropped to your mouth. He licked his lips. It was such a human display of nervousness that for a moment, you found yourself forgetting again.

“Can we…?” He swallowed thickly. “Could we do that again?”

You were only human.

Smiling, you ran a hand over the slope of Rimmer’s broad shoulder, the other slipping round his jaw as you leaned in and pressed your lips to his.

That should’ve been it. It should’ve been enough. A quick kiss to sate your curiosity, just as Rimmer said. But then he squeezed your hips, and as you tilted your head to the side, you felt him let out the softest, tiniest moan.

You gripped Rimmer tighter, one hand on his strong upper arm now, the other looping around his neck so that you could play with the little curls at the nape of his neck again. And all the while, a thought, translucent and frail, whispered through your mind.

You should stop. You should really stop…

Rimmer groaned into your mouth, low and rough, pressing tighter against you as his lips moved against yours. He kissed like a man who’d only gotten the slightest bit of physical attention while he was alive, and had spent the last three million years craving more.

Before you knew it, you’d pushed him back down onto the sofa and fallen into his lap, your hands cupping his jaw, his still on your hips. You bit his lip, hoping to make him moan again.

Rimmer’s big hands slipped up your back, just as your fingers found their way into his hair. You couldn’t resist rocking against him, just to see what he’d do.

“C’mon, pretty boy, I wanna hear you.”

Rimmer’s hips jumped, his fingers tightening around you. He moaned against your lips, his mouth falling open, and you took his jaw between your fingers, grateful for the opportunity to press your tongue against his.

It was only when he whispered your name against your mouth that the fog began to clear. The illusion became more obvious. He didn't taste of anything. Didn’t smell, feel or look right. He wasn’t your Arnold. And this was nothing more than a dream.

You broke away but didn’t get far. Your lips brushed his, sharing one breath as you gazed at each other, stunned and warmed and dizzy with the need to go further. But this wasn’t real. It wasn’t real.

You smiled and ran your hand through his lovely, curly hair one last time.

“Off,” you said, and the game dissolved around you.

You yanked off the headset and pulled in a lungful of air. It felt like you’d been swimming up for hours, your arms and legs aching, your chest about to burst, and had finally broken through the surface.

Standing on uncertain legs, you glanced at the clock and saw that you’d only been gone for about an hour. The boys probably hadn’t even noticed you were gone.

Feebly, you found your way out into the corridor, hoping to put the game back where you found it and forget all you’d seen there. But then there he was, the very man you were hoping not to bump into for at least a week.

Rimmer looked pleased to see you, but you were too frazzled to enjoy it. Your heart was still thumping, thanks to his wandering hands.

“Ah, there you are!”

His green H glinted under the bright lights, a jarring and permanent reminder of just how pathetic your situation was.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he said, smiling.

It took a moment to get your tongue working. It was frankly a little disconcerting to suddenly be having a normal conversation with the man you’d just made out with in a VR game.

“You have? Why?”

Your voice was croaky from lack of use. Hopefully he’d think you’d just woken up from a nap.

Rimmer rolled back and forth on his feet, moving from his heels to his toes, his hands held tight behind his back. He was too excited to notice the game and its headset stashed awkwardly behind your back.

“Chess?” he asked.

You smiled.

“I’d love to, Arnie.”

Next Chapter

Master List

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

17 notes · View notes