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al-astakbar · 3 months

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☆ The Gift -- Thrawn x reader ☆

> title ☆ The Gift ☆part 8/?

> summary ☆ As congratulations for his recent promotion to Grand Admiral, Emperor Palpatine gives Thrawn a gift -- a young woman who has been trained as a pleasure companion.

> pairing ☆ Thrawn x reader ☆ word count [4.3k] ☆ warnings for this part ☆ sex, mentions of anal sex, mild degradation/humiliation > series warnings ☆ dubious consent; sexual slavery; concubine/ sex slave AU; will add more warnings as more parts are posted

> series navigation ☆ part 1 ☆ part 2 ☆ part 3 ☆ part 4 ☆ part 5 ☆ part 6 ☆ part 7 ☆ part 8

> posted on ao3

author note!! To be very clear, in this story reader is a concubine against her will and is gifted to Thrawn, but there is at no point any noncon between Thrawn and reader. Reader is never noncon with anyone, either referenced or explicitly, and there is never any explicit noncon. However, this is a darker take on Thrawn and he doesn't really have many hangups about putting his gift to use...

“What will it take to break you in, I wonder?” The Grand Admiral muses one evening. He likes you bent over and exposed, and usually his desk is the most convenient option. So that’s where you are now.

He paces around, in and out of your field of vision, his hands clasped behind his back. You had watched him on the bridge today, where he had commanded the Chimaera through a quick skirmish with pirates, with much the same pose.

“To get you nice and willing and open for me… soon you will wait for me, bent over my desk… when you hear the hatch open, you’ll reach back and spread yourself open for me.” He pauses a moment, and then gives you an order, his voice like silk. “Do it now. Show me.”

You obey a little too quickly, and when he speaks again, you recognize amusement in his voice. “Good. Very good…” your name on his lips should not sound so good, should not have such sway over your self-control.

You hear the click of his boot heels stop just behind you. “Wider.”

A hot wave of humiliation courses through you, makes your clit pulse. You do it, knowing he can see everything.

Thrawn gives a ‘hmm’. “Such a lovely cunt. You’re wet, I see, but It has been some time since you were gifted to me and I still have not felt you cum. Or should I say, you have not let yourself cum.”

It is a sign of just how much he’s in your head that you barely protest the indignity of such a statement. You don’t even try to get up. “I don’t owe you that.”

“No, you don’t. But… are you happy to simply be of use?” He puts an obscene twist on the phrase that sends another shiver of desire down your spine. Yes, there is something dark in your psyche that being of use to Thrawn appeals to.

Your body gives you away, and perceptive as he is, he misses nothing. “You want more.” He trails one gloved finger over your skin, across your hip, too lightly up the line of your wetness. You can’t suppress a needy moan, and his touch lingers where he finds your desperation most transparent.

“I’ll fuck your ass soon. You’ll need to get used to taking my cock there. You have a tight, pretty little hole, it would be a shame not to fuck it. You like that idea.” His tone is soft, and suggestive. Dangerously close to convincing you of… whatever he wants. “Yes… you do. You like to think of me pushing in slowly. Using your body in ways you had never considered, all to give you pleasure.”

When you only manage an incoherent sound, he prompts you with a light brush of his finger over your asshole. “I expect an answer…”

But you can’t give him one. At least, not one that’s honest. And unfortunately, the Grand Admiral can read you much too well for comfort.

You hear the sound of fabric, and then he takes you over his desk, the second time that day. He climaxes with a low, muted groan that makes you weak. Another hit to your resolve that nearly tips you over the edge to follow him.

Afterwards, he cleans you up, and instructs you to dress.

“Where are we going?”

The wardroom, he says.

The whole way there, he tolerates your questions. Why and Will there be anyone else there and Can I eat dinner there and Can you walk slower?

“I thought you would enjoy having a meal with some new company. You may, of course, remove your veil, if you wish.” And he slows his long-legged strides just enough for you to catch up. For a moment, you think he’s about to offer you his arm, to escort you like a gentleman would a lady. Somehow such a courteous gesture from him wouldn’t surprise you. You have to remind yourself that you wouldn’t accept it. But at the same time, your pussy is still pink and swollen and every lust-driven instinct is urging you closer to him. Despite the lingering, unsated arousal, you still have that nice, warm, just-been-fucked feeling and you hope desperately that no one can tell. Thrawn can, of course. He gives you a dryly amused look, and asks why you need to slow down-- “are you having trouble walking?”

You glare at him, and tell him under your breath that you can still feel his cum leaking out of you. “It’s making my legs sticky.”

He smiles, but apologizes. “I should have been more thorough. Perhaps next time I’ll have to lick you clean. Would you like that?”

You want to answer that by elbowing him, because it would be too embarrassing to say ‘yes, please’.

He leads you out of the more narrow, labyrinthine corridors until you reach one of the main passageways. The change of scenery lifts your spirits a bit, and you look around with renewed energy and focus. You expect that normally you’d find some random hallway unremarkable but after days of the exact same two locations, the same route, anything different is interesting.

This one is brightly-lit and wide, and you and Thrawn pass several officers who all acknowledge their commander with a crisp ‘good evening, sir’.

At the entrance of the officers’ mess, he opens the door for you, puts his hand at the small of your back and ushers you through.

Inside are maybe fifty officers seated around tables in an expansive dining room. Droids move among the tables, serving platters of food and taking away dirty dishes. Some of the officers look around when you and Thrawn come in, and move to get up. One of them looks ready to call attention on deck before Thrawn holds up his hand.

“Keep your seats, please.” Evidently this is the one place on the ship where Imperial military formality is somewhat relaxed.

Thrawn takes you over to one table at which there are a few empty seats, and pulls out a chair for you.

You look up at him, murmur a quiet ‘thank you, sir’. He takes his own seat to your right, and to your left, you’re both dismayed and excited to realize, is Assistant Director Ronan. Thrawn’s reminder that you need not wear your veil had been tempting, but now you definitely won’t risk showing your face. Not with Ronan right next to you. He’d probably try to send a holo to the Emperor to snitch on you.

After a brief lull, the conversations pick up again. Several of Thrawn’s bridge officers are also seated around this table-- you recognize Commodore Faro, as well as two other women, the weapons officer Pyrondi and the chief sensors officer Hammerly. The comms officer Lomar is joking over a printed word puzzle in the ship’s daily newsletter with another officer you recognize but don’t know by name. The youngest person at the table is the helmsman, Lieutenant Agral. He looks rather shocked to be seated directly next to his commanding officer, and keeps glancing over at Thrawn and offering to refill his water glass, which Thrawn hasn’t touched once.

They talk of the events of the day, and the latest ship gossip, training evolutions, and who scored highest on the pistol qualification, complaints about the droids not pressing their uniforms properly. It’s one thing seeing them do their jobs, but another seeing them like this— eating, chatting, joking around. It all seems so normal.

You stay quiet, picking little pieces of your food and secreting them under your veil to eat. Why Thrawn thought this would be enjoyable for you, you don’t know. Even covered, you feel awfully exposed and out of place, unable to join any conversations since none of them bother to address you directly.

“The food isn’t bad, is it.”

You look over in surprise. Ronan takes a delicate bite of some succulent plant.

You stare at him for a moment, wondering if he was actually talking to you. A moment ago he had been debating one of the bridge officers about the importance of locally indigenized production of TIE avionics.

Now he nods to your plate, which is piled with a bounty of food. To Thrawn’s credit, he hadn’t been lying when he said he ate the same as his crew. This is all similar to the meals you’ve eaten in his quarters, except there is no wine on the table.

“Fresh vegetables and fruit. I’ve no idea how they supply the whole ship with it, let alone the fleet.”

You find your voice. “Do they, though? Down on the enlisted mess decks, they all get this too?”

“Of course they do,” he says crisply, and that settles the matter.

For a moment, you’re stuck on what to say. This could be your chance, your only chance to speak at length with the one person who might have an interest in getting you off this ship. You have to say something. Even if it sounds naive and servile and completely false to your ear. “… is this your first time on a ship like this? I mean, a big one.”

Ronan scoffs. “Certainly not. In my work for the Director— Director Krennic, that is— I’ve had the distinct privilege of touring many Imperial vessels, a few even more grand than this.”

This is the sort of conversation you had expected as a companion, before you had met Thrawn and had to reevaluate everything you thought you knew about Imperials. Ronan fits the mold, though, so well he seems like a caricature. A self important wind bag, bragging about his connections and deeply, deeply concerned for his public image. By now, you’ve heard the name Director Krennic many times, and had even asked Thrawn about it. But it’s more fun to say “who?” and watch Ronan turn red in the face.

You slip a look at Thrawn. He gives you the subtlest smirk, his eyes glittering, before returning his attention to the other conversation.

After Ronan finishes a fawning review of Director Krennic’s accomplishments, he’s able to compose himself somewhat. “But you must feel very lucky to have secured a position with a Grand Admiral,” he picks up. “How did you manage it, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Lucky?” You repeat, unable to keep disbelief out of your voice.

“I should say so. When you were selected, I’m sure you didn’t imagine… well, any of this.” He sniffs, looking around the table, and you don’t miss how his lip curls as his gaze slides over Thrawn.

“No,” you say carefully. “It’s been quite comfortable so far, at least compared to our accommodations on Coruscant.”

“Well, they can’t make it too easy. Then everyone would want to do it. Still, it’s a rather short, easy path to join such esteemed company.”

If that’s what he really thinks— that you’re some social climber who volunteered for this-- that any of this has been easy for you-- you dig your nails into your thigh, have to bite your tongue. Briefly, you fantasize about taking a cup of juice and ‘accidentally’ spilling it on him. But if you hope to win his trust, and have any chance of escaping the Chimaera, you have to play along. “I… ah… In truth, the esteem of the company was lost on me at first. I didn’t realize the significance of his rank. I didn’t even know there were non-human officers.” This feels dangerously close to agreeing with Ronan. Thrawn is thoroughly engaged in conversation; you doubt he’s listening to you.

“Yes, well. The Grand Admiral is one of the very few,” Ronan says, in a tone that suggests he’s relieved about this fact. “A great many exceptions were made to ensure his rise, as I’ve heard it. But he’s managed to charm the right people, I suppose. And you did too, placed with a Grand Admiral. I expect once you get back to civilization he’ll be keeping you in all the latest fashions and jewels.”

And with that, your exchange with Ronan stalls, though you should admit what it really is-- a dead end. What can you even talk about, with him, here? Other than the ever-fertile topic of Director Krennic, of course.

With a sigh, you return to picking at your food, and you catch the middle of a spirited discussion among Thrawn’s bridge crew.

“—losing too many fighters, it’s not sustainable.”

“Not the fighters, the pilots,” Faro says tightly. You get the impression that this is a particularly sore spot for her. “Pilot training takes a year, minimum. Just by the math, it doesn’t work out. We aren’t training replacements fast enough.”

They talk freely in front of Thrawn, and he seems to encourage this kind of open discussion and exchange of ideas. They also don’t look to him constantly for reassurance or the final word.

“But with the hit and run attacks--”

“It’s impossible to stamp them all out at once. They’re like weeds, pull one out and a few days later, three more sprout up.”

“Weeds?” Whispers Pyrondi to Faro, and you miss part of the discussion as Commodore Faro quietly explains what they are; apparently Pyrondi grew up on Coruscant and the concept is unfamiliar.

“How do they reconstitute so fast? With no supply lines, no centralized logistics?”

You shift in your seat and chance a look over at Thrawn— only to find him regarding you curiously. For a moment, your heart is in your throat, at the thought of him announcing to the whole table that they needn’t speculate any longer. Here is a former rebel, in the flesh, to whom they could direct all their questions.

But he doesn’t, and you sag in relief.

“A question, then,” Thrawn puts to his officers. “Knowing that current strategies of reactive targeting are ineffective, where should Imperial forces direct their efforts?”

Ronan makes a strangled sound— Thrawn may be right, but he is close to outright contradicting official policy, which amounts to contradicting the Emperor. None of his officers bat an eye though.

“Resource realignment,” Hammerly says promptly.

“Or stronger deterrents,” Lomar suggests, and you notice Ronan give an emphatic, approving nod.

“That’s not what I meant,” Hammerly says. “Bigger ships and bigger guns are useless if you can’t even find targets.”

More voices pick up the debate, with Pyrondi suggesting, “we need to make better use of intel sources to predict rebel movements and attacks.” You listen with a sort of numb curiosity. To hear your enemy-- if they still are your enemy-- discussing how they would defeat you.

At one point, you feel Ronan shift in his seat. He has interjected a few times, never shy with his opinion, to chastise anyone he disagrees with. This time, as he shifts, he manages to brush his hand against yours, under the table. You jerk away, but in a smooth, subtle motion, he catches you and you feel his fingers curl yours around something small, metallic, and cylindrical. A data stick.

You don’t look at him. You fight any reaction, and as naturally as possible, slip the data stick into a fold in your sleeve.

The conversation goes late. You miss most of it anyway, distracted by your curiosity about why Ronan would want to discretely slip you a data stick— and more importantly, what could possibly be on it. As you walk with Thrawn back to his quarters, an announcement comes over the 1MC, taps, taps. The passageway lights dim to red during the ship’s night cycle and Thrawn looks even more intimidating than usual, cast in red and yet his eyes still gleaming out of the darkness.

“What do you think?” He asks when you get back to his office.

“A-about what?” The data stick Ronan had pressed into your hand is making you paranoid. As small and light as it is, you fear it might still be noticeable in your sleeve, at least to someone as observant as Thrawn. For all you know he might be able to tell that its weight makes your robe hang slightly differently.

“The question we were discussing.”

You pull your veil back and sit on the couch, drawing a cozy blanket over yourself. “You really want my opinion?”

Thrawn goes to the small bar, pours two glasses of the emerald wine and brings them over. “You have a rather unique experience. So, yes, when I ask for your opinion, I expect you to provide it.”

You eye him for a moment, doubtful, wondering what game he’s playing here. He already knows you have no information. He knows you were a nobody. Completely insignificant to the broader effort. But he has a certain hold over you. An inviting expression on his sharply handsome features, his calm, undivided attention makes you blush, which you try to cover by taking a sip of your wine. It is sweet and flowery on your tongue. A sensual luxury. Perhaps Ronan was right-- given the chance, Thrawn will probably indulge you, spoil you in gifts of rare jewels and fine clothes and expensive, lavish meals in exclusive company.

Fine, then. You can play along. “The Empire’s strategies are more effective than you think. Lomar was saying how it’s not sustainable, the rate at which you keep losing fighters, but for every TIE blown up, or transport captured, it costs…” you stop yourself, feeling like you’ve exposed more than you meant to.

Thrawn is seated close, in the armchair, and he taps his finger on the stem of his wine glass without taking a sip, his eyes ever fixed on you. “It costs you more than it costs your enemy.”

You nod tightly. “The attrition is enough of a deterrent for most people to even think about supporting, let alone joining.”

“You joined.”

“And look where it got me.”

His eyebrows raise fractionally at that bit of impertinence, but you don’t look away. You hold his gaze, even as warmth creeps up your neck, brightening your cheeks. There is no mistaking the desire evident in his expression. He likes when you challenge him. Your breath catches, from the way he’s looking at you. From how ridiculously handsome he is. You can’t stop staring at his mouth, and the idea flashes through your mind-- how would it feel to kiss him?

“I-- what was the question?”

Thrawn repeats it-- that current approaches aren’t working. “Where do you think Imperial forces should direct their efforts instead?”

You bite your lip, flustered, your thoughts scattered. “I don’t know.” because you really don’t, but he narrows his eyes at that, and so you say what originally came to mind. “You should target the Mon Calamari shipyards.”

“Moff Tarkin has attempted that already.”

“He tried to take it as a trophy. I’m saying destroy it. I mean… hypothetically.”

“Explain,” Thrawn orders, in a quiet, low tone that always makes your heart beat a little faster.

“I— I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know, right?”

“That remains to be seen.”

“Well-- I mean, I was never in charge of anything--” his silence lets you stammer, and meander to a real answer. “We all used their ships. Lots of us, all the cells, even though we mostly didn’t know each other. And so, we all trained the same way, on the same equipment. If you had a Mon Cal ship, the maintainers and engineers would always know what to do for repairs. But when other ships would come in needing something, or had damage, they wouldn’t always know how to fix it. I mean-- if you take Corellian ships, not everything is standardized even from fourth generation to fifth generation fighters.”

“The use of a common design among and across fleets is advantageous,” Thrawn supplies.

“Yes. And a lot of times, when we needed replacement parts for other types of ships or anything like that, we’d have to track them down second-hand, or special order. Or figure out a workaround with a substitute, which would take time because it wasn’t just a drop-in, we’d have to do at least low level validation and sometimes minor re-design. That all takes time, and if we were planet hopping or system hopping, we couldn’t just order something because it wouldn’t arrive in time. We’d be gone before the delivery, and usually we had no idea where we’d end up next. So.” You shrug, unable to hide your slight smile. It hadn’t been fun, exactly, but the memories weren’t all bad.

“Removing the Mon Calamari shipyards would cripple the efficiency of the rebellion.” Thrawn’s tone is warmly approving, and you take another, deeper drink of your wine, because this conversation feels almost friendly. “You’ll be relieved to hear that such a course of action has already been considered and discarded by Imperial High Command. I recommended this to the Joint Chiefs, but my suggestion was rebuffed.”

“Why?”

Thrawn frowns, his air of satisfaction disappearing. “I do not know. A longtime friend and mentor told me that the reason was political but the nuances of such a decision escape me. Nevertheless, your instinct is a good one. And you made the point more convincingly than I was able to.” He taps the arm of his chair thoughtfully. “Most wars will be won or lost on the supply lines, long before any battles take place. You would have done well as a naval officer.”

Whether he meant it as a compliment or not, the idea rattles around in your head for the rest of the night, and long after Thrawn puts you to bed. You lay with it, tossing and turning in the dark, until you’re convinced it’s late enough. You have to see what’s on that data stick.

As far as you know, Thrawn has never come in to check on you while you’re asleep. And he has never slept in here with you either, which is another bizarre mystery, but not one you’ll find an answer to tonight. You’d managed to keep the data stick from Ronan hidden in your robes, even after taking them off and hanging them in the wall locker.

Now, you slide out of bed, moving carefully, secretly, as if any noise would alert Thrawn. For that, at least, you probably don’t have to worry. There is an ambient hum about the ship, no matter where you are-- the sound of the air circulator, and all the other life support systems will be enough to drown out all of your footsteps and movement.

Still, heart beating in your ears, you creep over and retrieve the data stick, then slot it in the data pad. A message reads out on the screen, just a single line.

Your breath catches in your chest.

[CELES STAVEN. IF YOU KNEW HER ON CORUSCANT I CAN HELP YOU.]

You stare at the words, reading them over again, trying to temper your hopes a little, but the prospect of escaping is an exciting one, burning in your chest. Ronan knew someone at the cloister. His family? The surname was different, but that must be who he was asking about. But did he know how they kept you anonymous? Faceless, even with each other? Even those you thought you knew, you had never known their names, at least, not their real names. Celes. You wrack your memories for some clue-- anything-- if only he had said what she looked like. Or better, what she had sounded like. The shape of her hands.

A chill passes through you, and your throat gets tight, tears prick your eyes. Here in the dark, all of a sudden, you feel coldly, desperately alone.

You wipe the message, then input one of your own. It can’t be too long. You wish there was space to explain all this. He’s looking for an easy answer, and you don’t have one. Perhaps you could try to just ask him directly, you’ll likely see him on the bridge tomorrow morning but-- no. Too risky. People would have questions if you were seen chatting together. Ironically, Thrawn wouldn’t care about such a breach of etiquette, you’re sure, but to others it would raise suspicion.

[NO NAMES. NEED A HOLO.]

You take the data stick out of the datapad. Now, you have to find a secure place to hide it until you can pass it back to him, but there is nowhere in the sparely furnished room that you can be sure Thrawn or a cleaning droid wouldn’t find. On your person, then. You could sew it into your robes.

If only you had a needle and thread. And light.

After some rather desperate, breathless searching, mostly by touch, you find a travel sewing kit at the very back of a high shelf in the wall locker. That will work-- it has a needle, at least, though the thread is too heavy and the wrong color. You can salvage palebug thread from your embroidery. You slip your robe off the hangar, and crouch by the viewport. With the stars your only light, you painstakingly pick loose the thread of one of the flowers on your slipper. One from the side, where you think has the least chance of being noticed.

The work is agonizingly slow. This could be the night Thrawn decides to check on you, you expect the hatch to open at any moment but you can’t rush. The thread itself is prone to breaking, and with each stitch undone, it shines in the starlight, as delicate as crawler silk, shimmering even from your light breaths. Once you have a length of thread long enough to double on itself, you set about sewing an extra, hidden pocket into an inconspicuous fold of your sleeve. The data stick is small and light enough, as long as no one knows to look for it, it should never be found.

And now, you’ll just have to figure out how to hand it back to Ronan.

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mithresha · 6 months

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Painful Cramps

Pairing: Thrawn|Mitth'raw'nuruodo x Lenara (Female!oc) Word count: 1086 Warning: No warning, just fluff and cute romance hehe:D

Ch'ah ch'acah vah-I love you ch'eo ch'acah-My love Ch'ah ch'acah vah ch'eo bat-I love you my beautiful Visahot-Darling

Lenara laying in bed, curled up and holding the heating pad against her belly. She's holding onto Thrawn's hand, which is over her shoulder, rubbing her back. Lenara groans with the cramps and presses even harder against the heating pad. "I can't believe these cramps," she mutters to Thrawn. Thrawn squeezes her hand and kisses her forehead comfortingly.

"Can you rub my back a little harder?" Lenara asks."Of course, my love," Thrawn says, and makes the movements faster. "Does that feel better?" "Uh huh," Lenara says as she closes her eyes."That helps take my mind off the pain." "You know, these cramps are really bad," Lenara says. "I'm sorry, ch'eo ch'acah..," Thrawn says as he pulls her closer and lets her rest her head on his shoulder. "It must suck having to go through this every month." "It does suck," Lenara tells him as he rubs her back. "I'm thankful to have you here, though." "Don't mention it," Thrawn says as he continues rubbing her back and gently scratching her neck. "You deserve the best care,ch'eo ch'acah." "You know..," Lenara says as she closes her eyes and enjoys the calming touch."Sometimes I wonder how I'd feel without these cramps every month." "Like the luckiest woman alive?" Thrawn responds."You know it." Lenara says with a smile."You're the best, you know that?" Lenara says as she give a kiss on his cheek."And so are you." Thrawn smile softly."Oh, you," Lenara giggles softly, presses herself more tightly against his touch.

"Ch'ah ch'acah vah.." Thrawn whispers to her ears."I love you too thrawn..." Lenara smiles softly.She relaxes into his hold as the cramps begin to ease."Visahot.." Thrawn says after they've held each other for a moment. "You want me to go get you some ice cream?"Her eyes shot open when he said that and she looks at him"Yes please!" Lenara responds."What flavor?"Thrawn asks."Well, what do you think? Chocolate, of course!"Lenara says."It's your favorite, after all,"Thrawn laughs."I'll be back soon."Thrawn lets go of her hand and begins getting up. As he does, he kisses her on the forehead.Leaning in again, he whispers,"I'll be right back. You just try to get some rest."With that he leaves to go get the ice cream.

The pain begins to come back to Lenara once Thrawn leaves, causing her to clutch her belly and frown in discomfort.She lets out a sigh as she pulls the blanket up over herself, hoping that the cramps will be gone soon.As the cramps fade away, her eyes slowly begin to close. She is so exhausted, between the cramps, getting food in her belly, and the nice, comforting warmth of Thrawn's presence. She's able to relax now, and as the cramps finally pass, she's able to drift off into sleep, feeling the calm and peacefulness of the moment. She may have cramps from her period regularly, but nothing compares to the feeling of relief that comes with this moment, and with Thrawn's love.

As she sleeps, Thrawn returns with a container of her favorite chocolate ice cream, and quietly walks into the room. Her eyes are closed and she appears at peace, despite the pain and cramps she's experienced. Thrawn leans over and lays the ice cream container down on the nightstand. He takes a moment to simply watch her, her face peaceful, her lips relaxed into a sleeping smile. With her eyes closed, it's almost like she's an angel to him, so still and so gorgeous."Ch'ah ch'acah vah ch'eo bat..." Thrawn says quietly. Lenara, though she's asleep, manages to mumble something to him. With her eyes still closed, she says, "Ch'acah vah too Thrawn..." He smiles at that as he steps out of the room. She's asleep and he doesn't want to wake her. With one final look at her, he closes the door, leaving her in peaceful rest.

Hours later, Lenara slowly and peacefully wakes up, the heat of the cramps completely gone. She opens her eyes and looks over to the nightstand, noticing the ice cream container she forgot he brought her.Lenara smiles, and sits up, stretching a bit. She pulls the container of ice cream onto her lap and notices her bedroom door is closed. She gets up quickly opens it, and walks out to where Thrawn likely would be.Walking out of his bedroom, she finds him sitting down on the couch, doing something on his tab.As she approaches, she smiles and gives him a kiss on the cheek.Thrawn looks up from the screen. he smiles broadly at her and opens his arms for a hug.Lenara happily walks over and hugs him tightly, burying her face in the warmth of his embrace.As they hug, Thrawn smiles and says, "So, how are you feeling? Did you happen to sleep okay?" "I did, actually," Lenara answers as she rubs her belly. "Thanks to your attentions. My cramps aren't even hurting anymore.""Of course ch'eo ch'acah" Thrawn replies. "That's why you have me."Lenara smiles as he holds her close, still enjoying his embrace."You want any of this ice cream?" She asks him."As in, you haven't eaten all of it already?" Thrawn jokes with her."Oh please," Lenara says with a giggle. "I wouldn't eat it all without you thrawn."He smiles at her and leans down to kiss her on the cheek. "You're too kind, my dear.""No, it's you who's too kind," Lenara replies with a slight blush.Thrawn smiles and brushes the hair away from her face, then lightly kisses her on the forehead."Well," he says, "Are you up for doing anything tonight?" "I know I'd definitely be up for some snuggle time," Lenara says with a wink.Thrawn grins widely and responds,"Well, if I'm not careful with that suggestion, we might not leave the room at all today."Leaning in, Thrawn gives her a soft, sweet kiss on her soft lips."Exactly how I want it," Lenara says with a giggle.

Thrawn chuckles as he pulls her close, their faces only inches away as they look each other in the eyes. "ch'eo ch'acah..." he whispers, "you are the most beautiful woman I've ever known." Lenara place her right hand on his cheek and caress it softly "And you are the most handsome man I've ever known." She chuckled softly as she leaned slowly towards him to kiss him softly.

#thrawn #grand admiral thrawn #thrawn x reader #grand admiral thrawn x reader #star wars rebels #thrawn x you #star wars #thrawn x y/n #thrawn x oc #thrawn x f!reader #thrawn x lenara #yess i do i have oc yay!#mitth'raw'nuruodo x reader #mitth’raw’nuruodo #star wars fanfiction

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dantooined · 1 year

Text

Perhaps

post on ao3

Pairing: Thrawn x Fem!Reader (she/her pronouns used) Word Count: 3.6k Series Rating: Mature (18+ only, minors DO NOT INTERACT) Chapter Summary: Thrawn notices everything, including the way his newest Imperial officer looks at him when she thinks he's not looking - and decides to do something about it. Chapter Warnings: explicit sexual content, smut, POV Thrawn, xenophilia, no y/n, POV female character, orgasm delay/denial, BDSM, vibrators, voyeurism/public, workplace relationship, light dom/sub, our blue boy is into power play and don't we love him for it

You were pretty sure that time had, somehow, stopped.

Sweat slowly trickled down the back of your neck past your collar, threatening to stain your perfectly starched grey Imperial uniform. The thermoregulators couldn't be malfunctioning since none of your colleagues sitting next to you at the command table seemed to be perspiring like you were. You’d also been in this kriffing meeting for hours, so you wouldn’t be able to pretend like you’d just come from a workout either.

Praying no one would notice, you tried to keep your face as neutral as possible, staring straight at your commander’s blue-skinned face as if this was just another day, just another meeting. Nothing to see here. Nothing to —

“Is there something you’d like to say, lieutenant?” Thrawn suddenly queried, interrupting some moff droning on about last quarter’s numbers.

Your eyes — which were apparently glossed over, damnit— instantly refocused on Thrawn’s piercing red gaze, seemingly beaming straight through you and whatever facade you trying to project. He folded his arms behind him and stared right at you. He knew.

He always knew.

If anyone had been paying attention, they might’ve noticed the room’s apparent background buzz suddenly silenced. One might’ve thought the mild buzzing noise was simply part of the room ambiance, perhaps some monitoring gage simply cycling through. Definitely not something very specifically inside of you, vibrating, and being controlled by the Grand Admiral running this meeting.

“N-no, sir,” you stammer, immediately straightening your posture and giving him a curt nod.

The corners of his mouth ever so slightly ticked upwards as he paused for a moment, looking at you, almost baiting you to make the next move. Everyone’s eyes on you, Thrawn secretly pressed a controller hidden in his uniform cufflink to turn your vibrator back on, dialing it up a few notches in an attempt to probably catch you off guard.

Summoning every ounce of strength you had left, you pressed your legs together and bit your tongue. You controlled your breath best you can and stared straight back at him, giving your best impression of a nonplussed Imperial, hoping everyone else in the room would buy it but him. Praying they would all assume the sticky tension in the room was strictly professional, nothing more.

Knowing it was anything but.

The moment passed. Thrawn dipped his head gently and moved on with the meeting’s agenda, deftly guiding the conversation with his usual brilliance and aptitude. You had to admit that you admired him for it. There was no one else like Grand Admiral Thrawn, even if these middle management Imperials couldn’t get over themselves enough to ever admit it. He was special. Incredible, really. Always came out on top, always in charge, always the victor.

This entire situation revolved around that dynamic. You loved it. But today, you wanted to tease the Grand Admiral. Show him that you were more than just a plaything, a pet. Two could play this game, surely. Had anyone ever called Thrawn’s bluff successfully and lived to tell the tale? Something sinful inside of you needed to know. Needed to watch him lose his cool for once.

What would it look like to see his blue skin blush?

—-

When you had first been transferred to The Chimaera, you thought your instant admiration for him was for his clear prowess in the battlefield, incredibly able to calculate and strategize several steps ahead seemingly on the spot. Everyone else was terrified of him, but you found yourself drawn to his quiet, restrained kind of power. You couldn’t help yourself, like a moth to a flame. It should have scared you, how much you were drawn to him - but it never did.

And then, one day, when you were personally tasked with bringing Thrawn a report, his red, glowing eyes locked with yours for the first time … and you felt like you were on fire. A warm, devastating flame that melted your heart into some kind of lava now flowing through your veins. You suddenly knew you would do anything for this man. He knew it too, even then.

Months passed, and you both gravitated more and more towards each other, like two suns irretrievably trapped in orbit. A lingering touch as he passed by your console. A stolen glance as you passed each other in the hallway. Soon, Thrawn requested for you to be on his personal detail, insisting on all non-urgent communications while off-duty being run through you. You thought your heart might explode.

The two of you quickly became familiar, even almost friendly; a tentative bond that only strengthened with more time and experience. You made sure you never let him down. You were always on time, always ready, always prepared.

You’d also convinced yourself that you put your best foot forward because you admired him. But in the middle of the night when you touched yourself thinking about all the ways you wished he would, you knew better. And up until today, even though you’d desperately wanted to, you’d never made a move.

He was a Grand Admiral. You were just a lieutenant. What if you’d been reading this all wrong? You couldn’t risk it. Couldn’t risk losing whatever this was.

So when he unexpectedly called you into this office before this meeting, you’d slightly panicked. Thrawn never did anything unintentionally, but meeting alone in his office was highly unusual, even for him. And as you briskly walked the ship’s hallways towards his office, you tried to run through every possible scenario or reason for being called in so unexpectedly. Stopping in front of his door, you ran your shaking hands over your hair and pulled down your crisp uniform tightly to make sure you’d at least look at pulled together as possible before going inside.

You held your breath as you opened the door.

—-

Grand Admiral Thrawn was nothing if not always prepared. Always analyzing, always dissecting, always watching. He couldn’t help it, couldn’t help that life always seemed so … predictable.

Which is why art had become such a deep fascination: it was expressive, unique, even volatile at times. A true artist knew the rules and knew how to break them. Privately, he liked to think of himself as an artist of sorts, albeit the strategic and militaristic type. Humans rarely appreciated his kind of art, however.

It initially bothered him, but he’d eventually learned to set aside any feelings of unappreciation. He'd told himself that feeling wanted wasn’t practical, and that was that.

But the last few months with his lieutenant had proven unique. There was a warmth, a kind of delicious heat that accompanied so many of their interactions, especially as of late. initially, Thrawn hadn't recognized it for what it was, having practically blinded himself to anything regarding carnal desire. Humans more often than not had exhibited xenophobic tendencies with him, so he forgave himself for his initial misgivings about the matter.

However, it couldn't now be any clearer how his lieutenant felt, and that knowledge set something inside of him aflame. Feeling admired, feeling wanted, feeling appreciated... Thrawn realized a rare opportunity. Perhaps instead of just being an artist… he could also, in a way, be the art.

The idea both thrilled and terrified him, which thrilled him even more.

Thrawn was so used to being the one in power, the one making the call. What would it be like to give in to physical pleasures and just be... desired? He had never done that before.

Curiosity piqued, he rationalized to himself that he could surely still be in control while allowing himself to be admired. After all, how could he call himself a lover of art if he hadn’t done everything he could to fully understand it?

And after months of painstakingly setting the ground for what could be a most fascinating experiment, Thrawn was more than ready to test that theory.

—-

“Hello? … Grand Admiral?” You voiced, tentatively.

A moment, then you heard his familiar timbre call out, “In here, lieutenant.”

Licking your lips and ignoring that fluttering feeling in your chest, you started towards the Grand Admiral, smoothing your uniform nervously while glancing down at your polished boots walking towards the unknown.

As you entered the room, you quickly looked up to address Thrawn. Instantly, your brain short circuited at the immediate image you saw with your mouth agape.

Thrawn had clearly just been sparring with two robots, now standing up from what must have been an intense sparring session based on the sheen of sweat dappling his muscular body.

He wasn’t in his standard Imperial white uniform either, but rather, a black tank that stuck to the ripples of his chest like a second skin. Below, trim grey pants that matched and smartly covered his toned body. His typical sky blue skin was a deeper, more vibrant cerulean, practically glistening in the light. His typically slicked back dark hair was slightly tousled, spare strands hanging down and framing his angular face, making him look ever so slightly undone instead of the typical calm and collected commander. Almost … wild.

He glanced up at you with a gaze so intense you thought you might pass out on the spot.

“Rukh”, Thrawn commanded, instantly turning off the bots and officially ending the spar session.

As he righted himself, you straightened up your posture and tried to look as professional as possible, starkly contrasting Thrawn’s apparently casual approach to this meeting.

“Lieutenant, thank you for coming here so quickly,” he said, chest still heaving gently from the workout. Running his hand through his damp hair absentmindedly, he continued, motioning over to his data pad on his desk. “There’s … something I think you should see.”

You cautiously circled around behind his desk to look at the data pad, only to see a series of videos — of yourself.

Security camera footage of you on your shifts, walking down hallways, even in the mess hall. Your heart racing, you turned to face Thrawn with a quizzical look on your face.

“…Sir?” You queried.

“Tell me what you notice about this footage, lieutenant.” Thrawn responded, now beside you, eyes slightly narrowing as they locked with yours.

Gulping, you turned back to the data pad and looked more closely at the screen. You focused on the top video first, noticing that it was from a meeting only a few days ago, led by Thrawn himself. Scanning to the next video, you saw yourself on deck standing next to Thrawn during a battle presentation. And as you looked at the third video on the data pad where Thrawn walked by you in the mess hall, you gasped.

These weren’t just videos of you. They were videos of you and Thrawn.

And - dank ferrick - you quickly realized exactly what else they had in common.

The footage from the meeting slowly zoomed in on your face as Thrawn went over strategy, clearly picking up the way you chewed your lip watching him. While Thrawn was leading The Chimaera to battle, you were clearly staring at the Grand Admiral with glossy, half-lidded eyes. Kriff, were you rubbing your legs together? You watched in horror as you saw how the security camera caught the way your eyes hungrily flicked down Thrawn’s body as he passed by in the mess hall, only to bite your lip as you watched him walk away.

The air was suddenly too thick to breathe, your uniform collar unbearably stiff. You knew you had it bad for your commander, but had no idea how kriffing obvious it was to anyone who was watching. Panicking, you dropped his data pad on the desk and moved to step back from him, unsure of what you could possibly say to remedy this situation. But before your legs managed to make the first step, Thrawn’s hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, instantly stilling you.

“Lieutenant,” he said, almost purring, still holding on to you tightly. “I don’t believe I’ve relieved you of duty yet.”

“Y-yes sir,” you stammered. “Of c-course, sir, I didn’t want-“

“Oh, but you did want, lieutenant,” Thrawn coolly interrupted as he turned from his desk to face you, your wrist now helplessly held in front of his expansive chest, your body burning under his assessment.

You felt something stirring in your lower body but impossibly tried to control your features so you didn’t do anything stupid. Like think about how he was still touching you. Or how incredible his chest probably looks right now. Or the glint in his eyes that felt like a double-edged sword right up against your throat.

“I typically prefer my officers to be observant and thoughtful,” Thrawn continued. “But perhaps, for the moment, thinking is not what this situation requires.”

So you just stood there, dumbly, desperately, simply staring at your commander like you were waiting for orders. And maybe you were.

“Lieutenant,” Thrawn continued as he let go of your trembling wrist, hungrily watching it fall next to your thigh. “I believe you to be a fine officer, one who can and has operated with discretion. Someone trustworthy. Do you believe that evaluation to be correct?”

“Yes, sir.” You stammered, heat pooling in your chest. “And it’s been an honor to work more closely with you, sir.”

He lazily drew his eyes back up to your face, grinning, subconsciously reminding you of a loth-wolf stalking its prey. You chewed your lip nervously, not missing how his red eyes immediately darted towards your mouth upon doing so.

“Closely, indeed.”

You could’ve sworn you saw his tongue peek out and wet his lips.

Thrawn then cocked his head at you and slowly moved to your right, continuing to look you up and down as if he were appraising a fine work of art. You stood there with your heart racing, eyes locked ahead, body at full attention.

“You also have an impeccable record and have been a loyal servant to the Empire.”

Thrawn paused behind your shoulder and reached around you, grabbing your chin and tilting it back towards him. “And, subsequently, loyal to me.”

Your face, inches away from his, blushed furiously. “Yes, Grand Admiral,” you breathed.

It’s intense. More intense than it should be.

Thrawn carefully leaned in towards your ear, his breath heating the back of your neck and causing your skin to gooseflesh instantly.

“Good girl,” he whispered.

You could practically hear yourself dripping.

“Lieutenant,” Thrawn started, regaining his composure and folding his arms behind him as he started to gently walk around the room. “I brought you in here today to prove a theory of mine. One that I have been holding for months, truly curious what might come of it.”

You nervously watched as the Grand Admiral paced the floor, something you’d seen him do a hundred times during battle. There was something so strong, so compelling about how he owned the room, how he was always three steps ahead of everyone else. But as you watched him now, muscles gently rippling as he moved, stripped of his typical uniform and into something so casual, you thought he’d never looked more powerful. And it thrilled you.

It wasn’t until a few moments later you realized he had stopped talking and was watching you, watching him. Wait, was your mouth open?

You quickly clenched your jaw and shook your head to come back to reality only to see him shoot you a sly smile as he continued.

“The video surveillance was merely a tool to easily show you what I had already noticed. And, seeing you today, so willing … I believe my theory to be correct.”

You gulped. “Willing, sir?”

Thrawn stopped pacing and stared out of the transparisteel viewport on the far side of the room. You could see his red eyes burning in the reflection, their smoldering intensity surpassing the twinkling stars outside.

“Perhaps,” he mused.

—-

“Perhaps,” Thrawn remarked with a wave of his hand, dismissing the captain’s concerns about … wait, what are they talking about? Kriff. You’d been thinking back to how this all started and clearly lost focus in the current meeting.

It didn’t help that you could feel yourself dripping down your thighs by this point. He had clearly been slowly ramping the vibrator up as the meeting progressed, wanting to see how much you could take before one of you broke. If you moved your hips back just a bit, you could probably end this all right now—

You gritted your teeth in frustration. No, you could do this. You were practically panting and squirming so much it was surely distracting the other meeting attendees, but you couldn't think about them right now. Not when you were this worked up and affected. Glancing over at Thrawn, you expected to see him as calm as always. However, you noticed something small that made your entire chest go white hot.

He was clenching his fist. A moff was talking about hyperspace fuel routes and Grand Admiral Thrawn looked as tense as a leader in battle.

He must be just as affected as you were.

Playing with fire, you decided to tempt fate and stick out your chest ever so slightly. This ended up backfiring as your pelvis rocked back and sent pleasant electric shocks up your body nearly taking you over the edge. You were so wet. Your mouth slightly opened and eyelids grew heavy with the new pressure, instantly captivating Thrawn as he immediately looked your way, unable to help himself. You absentmindedly wondered if Chiss men had heightened senses of smell.

In an attempt to rein it all in, you cleared your throat and slowly leaned back, regaining that Imperial stiff upper lip everyone in this room would expect. Thrawn continued to stare at you, a slight purple seeming flushing his cheeks. So that’s what it looks like.

“Pardon me,” you began. “This meeting has unexpectedly gone over and I’m needed elsewhere urgently.”

“I’m afraid I must also join the Lieutenant,” Thrawn immediately added as he scooted his chair back. It seemed as if he was about to stand, but then thought otherwise and remained seated, crossing his legs. “Might you summarize the remainder of your findings so we may conclude this meeting?”

... Wait, why didn’t Thrawn just end the meeting? It took you a moment of frustration until you realized gleefully that he must be unable to stand.

Biting back a smile from this heady realization, you nodded at Thrawn and turned your attention back to the moff, who was clearly planning on berating a lieutenant for interrupting him until Thrawn threw his support behind you. That’s not the only part of Thrawn I want behind me —

As if he could hear your dirty thoughts, Thrawn decided to punish you and turned the vibrator up even higher. You could have screamed in any other circumstance, but your immense need to beat Thrawn at his own game managed to somehow hold it all together. Everything inside of you was whirring around, flowing like hot lava through your veins, pulsing to a rhythm only you and the Grand Admiral could hear. The buzzing seemed so loud; surely even these Imperial dolts were catching on by now, you worried.

You didn’t dare look away and see what Thrawn’s face looked like. It would send you over the edge for sure. Seeing a man with such power and such control being completely undone — by your pleasure — was almost too much to even think about.

You knew this was not how he thought this “exercise in self-control” would go, and you knew he was going to punish you for disobeying him. You hoped he would. Hoped he would take you back to his room and take you in front of that transparisteel viewport in front of all the stars, all the galaxy watching you —

“Lieutenant.” The moff quipped dryly. “Are you well? You seem quite distracted. Surely a matter of this importance is not boring you.”

Snapping back to reality, your eyes focused on their displeased face and tried to think of the first thing to say that wasn’t drenched in the filth that almost fully occupied your mind right now.

“Of course not,” you responded, fidgeting with the hem of your uniform. “I just want to respect the Grand Admiral’s schedule and conclude this meeting as quickly as possible. Do you not share the same goal?”

It was borderline bratty, you knew. You couldn’t help it. Not with this vibrator pulsing inside of you, threatening to undo you at any given moment.

You didn’t even have to look at Thrawn to feel his small smirk spread across his face.

“The Lieutenant is quite right,” Thrawn purred. “Please continue with the meeting, so the rest of the room may be up to speed. Forgive me as I take my leave to attend to other pressing matters.”

The purple blush from his face seemingly cleared, Thrawn stood up decisively and pushed his chair back into the table, turning to leave. You froze, not sure if you were able to leave or were being asked to stay. You weren’t even sure you would be able to physically get up and walk out the door, if you were being honest. Maybe Thrawn had won after all, and he was leaving you here to continue to suffer as a punishment.

The Grand Admiral paused, and looked back over his shoulder. “Are you joining me, Lieutenant?”

In that moment, you knew he would never leave you like that. He needed to watch you, needed to see you suffer for him. Leaving you with a bunch of stuffy middle management to enjoy your suffering? Thrawn was a connoisseur, a patron, a purveyor of the arts. He wasn’t about to let one of his most intriguing artistic endeavors blossom without him. He needed you, needed to enjoy what he’s done to you.

You could suddenly see it in his eyes. The hunger. The appetite. The quiet pleading.

Oh.

The surge of power was almost too delicious to bear. Knowing you were actually the one truly in control, you grinned, wickedly.

“Perhaps,” you quipped.

#thrawn #grand admiral thrawn #thrawn x reader #thrawn x you #thrawn x oc #thrawn fanfiction #thrawn fic #thrawn x female!reader #thrawn ascendancy #chiss ascendancy #imperial fanfiction #thrawn fanfic #thrawn x f!reader #perhaps fanfic

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samspenandsword · 2 years

Text

Kinktober 2022/23 Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Summary: Kinktober Day 18 — Lingerie with Grand Admiral Thrawn Pairing: Grand Admiral Thrawn/Reader; fem!reader with no mentions of her appearance other than clothing. Rating: Explicit, 18+ (Younglings, foundlings, and cadets BEGONE!) Warnings: Explicit sexual content, smut; lingerie, unprotected PIV (PRACTICE SAFE SEX), mild breathplay, bruising and marking, rough sex, limited foreplay, possessive!Thrawn, implied spy!reader, unwanted attention (not from Thrawn). Word Count: 2.2k

Sam's Pen and Sword Kinktober 2023 Taglist Form

Thank you @dangerousstrawberrypie for requesting this! I hope you enjoy it!

Eyes were on you as you strode into the large, elegant hall; a show of opulence and elegance of ostentatious proportions that only Coruscant was truly capable of.

A disguise. A masquerade. A facade hiding the reality of the rotting galaxy behind something flashy and pretty enough to distract those with the power to do something about it.

That was your empire. A pretty show of power and peace hiding the fact that it had been the thing to rot the galaxy in the first place.

Long before it had called itself the Empire.

The sea of bodies around you was dressed to the nines, as were you. The only uniforms you saw were those donning the people receiving accolades tonight at the Annual Empire Day Ball.

You were not one of them, so you were garbed in a truly gorgeous gown. One you never would've chosen for yourself, but one that fit and flattered you perfectly.

Your lover had quite the artistic and analyzing eye. One that aided him in more areas than art and warfare. But he was a maestro in those areas.

He was receiving an accolade tonight, which was why he was wearing his collared, medaled white uniform. A uniform that suited him far more than any other as far as you were concerned.

A Grand Admiral. Quite the achievement. Especially considering no other non-human had achieved that rank within your empire.

Despite his uniform and impressive rank and incoming accolade, your lover did not enjoy the glitz and glamor of the Empire Day Ball. Frivolity was not a word in his vocabulary, though it certainly existed nonetheless. He wouldn't be here tonight had it not been ordered. But your lover still found ways to entertain himself here, and you spotted him no trouble. He stood outside the circles of chattering officers and senators and donors, finding more suitable company in the paintings and artwork adorning the hall.

You shook your head, a smile playing on your lips. You should've known.

"Ahh, you look lovely, Commander."

Admiral Konstantine.

He was not your favorite man. Self-serving and irresponsible at the best of times, you'd never been able to shake his interest in you.

Unfortunately.

"Thank you, Admiral Konstantine. You look quite smart, as well."

You noted, with amusement, that he was not in uniform.

"I trust you are enjoying the ball, my dear?"

You had never given him permission to call you that. He did anyway.

"I always do, Admiral. Everything is superb."

"Indeed," he said, smirking at you. He held out his hand. "Might I... pleasure you with a dance, my dear?"

Your polite smile tensed, but you were sure he didn't notice. He never did.

"Ah, Commander. Admiral."

The soft, silky tone was easily recognized by the both of you. You just barely withheld a smirk as your lover slid behind you, standing much closer than was professionally acceptable, and you didn't mind one bit.

It also didn't escape you that Konstantine had noticed the way your lover had greeted you first. Despite Konstantine's higher rank.

Konstantine's ridiculous mustache twitched as he restrained a sneer, forcing himself to remember that your lover outranked him.

"Grand Admiral Thrawn, I hope your evening has been pleasant?"

"Quite," Thrawn said, not deigning to speak more than necessary with the man who irked both of you beyond words. "But I hoped the commander might indulge me with a dance this evening." Thrawn looked at you, his red eyes darkening in a way only you noticed.

The hue of them matched the shade of your dress exactly.

And you knew he'd done that on purpose.

He held out his gloved hand. "Commander?"

You smiled, the shiver at the sound of his voice unnoticeable to all but him.

"Of course, Grand Admiral. It would be my genuine pleasure."

You didn't bother looking back at Konstantine, but internally smirked at his fury as you took Thrawn's hand and gladly let him lead you away.

It didn't surprise you that Thrawn didn't stop on the dance floor, instead bypassing it. You said nothing, instead allowing Thrawn to lead you away from the masses into one of the many corridors away from the main hall.

You said nothing even as he guided you into a small side room, instead letting anticipation grow in you.

"Did he touch you?" Thrawn let go of your hand, his fingers instead trailing up the bare skin of your arm, leaving goosebumps in his wake. It wasn't said with concern, or affectionate protectiveness.

It was said with possessiveness.

You belonged to him. As long as you both served this empire, you were his.

"No," you said, unable to keep the disdain for Konstantine from your voice. If you and your lover had your way, he would be demoted to permanent latrine duty for his incompetence and arrogance.

But alas, you couldn't get everything you wanted.

But what you wanted right now, was for Thrawn to rip this dress off and admire the rest of his own gift to you.

And judging by the look in your lover's bright red eyes, you were going to get what you wanted.

"Good," he said, his voice still soft and silky as always, but deepening with his lust. His hand had reached your neck, fingers curling around the back of it and gripping. You inhaled as he sharply tilted your head back, baring the length of your neck to him.

"Very good."

His lips were hard and demanding against yours, his fingers pressing harder into the curve of your neck. You moaned, your hands rising to his shoulders. Thrawn bit your lip, forcing your mouth open to press his tongue down onto your own.

You were not someone who liked to be used. Or owned. Or possessed.

But with Thrawn...

Something about him had crawled into your skin and refused to leave.

Scratch the itch, you'd told yourself, when this whole affair had started. Scratch the itch and it'll go away.

Needless to say, it hadn't. And you had grown to respect the man's brilliance and dedication to his goals.

He had grown to respect your own.

So as long as you both served the Empire, you served each other too. It was the only way to get what you both wanted.

You tried not to think deeper about it.

His free hand went to the shoulder of your gown as his lips kissed yours so hard you knew they would bruise beneath your lipstick. The fabric of your gown slid off your shoulder, baring it to him.

The other soon followed, and your gown pooled at your feet, baring the rest of his present to his eyes.

You'd huffed with amused indignance (and arousal) when you'd seen the white box in your quarters earlier, containing the red gown inside.

And hiding the scraps of gorgeous lingerie in its folds.

Your breasts were cupped in a scrap of lace, engorged nipples peeking and visible from within the soft fabric. The panties matched, lacy and revealing, with a series of straps in the back, curving snugly over your exposed ass. The lace did nothing to hide your pussy, which was already wet and tingling with anticipation. And to complete the set, a little lace garter was nestled around your thigh.

And it was all in perfect shades of white and blue. The same colors of his uniform and skin.

His colors.

Thrawn released you from the kiss, looking far less wrecked than you felt. His keen, analyzing gaze fell to your body, deliciously cupped and exposed for him and him alone.

You resisted the urge to squirm as his eyes raked over you like you were an art piece in his personal collection. He wouldn't appreciate it if you did.

His gaze eventually returned to you, darker than you'd ever seen before. His thumb lightly traced across your lower lip. A teasing touch.

You clenched with excitement and suspense.

"Exquisite."

His kiss and touch consumed you, and part of you knew this was dangerous. He was dangerous. But at the moment, you couldn't find it in you to care about anything other than the bulge pressing into the dip of your hip.

Thrawn's hands gripped your hips bruisingly, pressing you back until your back hit a wall. His hands skated down over the curve of your ass, pulling your hips into his own and gripping the back of your thighs, just above that teasing little garter.

"Mmm, Thrawn," you moaned.

"So impatient," he said, the barest teasing tone in his voice. His teeth tugged at a strip of skin at your collar, and you mewled.

He used his grip on your thighs to lift you, spreading your legs and lining his covered cock to your core. He quirked an eyebrow at the fabric of your panties, wet with arousal.

"Tell me what I want to hear," Thrawn said, voice husking with his own arousal and lust. One hand used his extraordinary strength to keep you pinned and wrapped around him while the other flew to the buttons of his coat.

There were times you pushed back against him, pushed his famous patience, acted out and sassed him and made a general brat of yourself. You knew he loved it when you did, taking great pleasure in wrestling the submission out of you. But tonight you found yourself needy, impatient for the stretch of his delicious cock, tamed by his gift of lace and silk, and the knowledge of just how damn good you looked in his colors.

So you said what he wanted, and you both reveled in how much you actually meant it.

"I'm yours, Thrawn."

"Who do you belong to?" His coat fell open, letting his hand fall more easily to his fly.

"You, Thrawn!" Your hands curled under his coat and dug into the skin of his shoulders. "Just you. I'm yours."

"Good."

He pushed aside your panties and sheathed himself inside you with one stroke, forcing your pussy to stretch around him and making you whimper into his chest in an effort to accommodate him. He gave you no time to adjust, one hand bruising your thigh and the other curling around your neck, pressing your head into the wall behind you. You gasped, head clouding with pleasure.

His hips pistoned into you, using the wall behind you for leverage as he fucked you within an inch of your life. His lips curled into a snarl as your pussy squeezed around him, fucking into you even faster.

You found yourself climbing at an embarrassingly fast pace. Thrawn filled you like no one else, his cock curved so wonderfully, long enough to make you drool, and thick enough to turn you into a drippy mess every single time. His skin was always cooler than yours, but his cock always seemed to pulse with heat, and it made you just writhe with need. Thrawn slammed into you so fast you could barely breathe, and as he tightened the fingers on your throat just so, your head absolutely swam.

There would be no bruises tonight, but tomorrow, you knew the faintest outline of his fingers would grace your skin.

The thought made you clench.

Thrawn grunted as your pussy turned into a vice around him, the slap of his hips and the squelch of your slick downright vulgar.

And gorgeous.

"Thrawn —" you were gasping, Thrawn, I — I—"

He grinned cockily, a rare expression for him, but one you seemed to oh so effortlessly pull from him, He could feel the tightening inside him. He was close too.

Another thing you pulled from him like no other had. Perhaps that was why he had laid his claim on you so quickly when the opportunity had risen. Because you had a rare effect on him. And because he knew you'd be a challenge. No matter how easily you'd submit to him, or how hard you'd fight back, you'd challenge him.

And you did.

He had yet to regret it.

"Go on," he said. "Cum for me."

You gasped under his fingers, cheeks flushed so prettily, skin glistening so perfectly.

You had never looked more like a work of art than right now, with his fingers around your throat, your breasts bouncing wonderfully with his pounding, his colors upon your skin, and his cock quite thoroughly, beautifully wrecking you.

Thankfully though, this was one masterpiece that was solely for him. A priceless, personal little piece for his enjoyment and admiration alone.

You'd always be his in this way. And he did not share.

He leaned in close, lips pressing a deceptively soft kiss to the shell of your ear. His cool breath made you shiver. His lips ghosted over your skin. "Cum."

You shattered around him.

Your pussy was still fluttering as Thrawn pulled out of you and set you back on your feet, allowing the fabric of your panties to fall back into place and to stop his cum from leaking out. He sent you a pointed look as he fixed his uniform. A look telling you that you were not to clean yourself up. And that he would be checking later.

You clenched again with the thought, not nearly stated.

You never were when it came to Thrawn.

But it would do for now, you thought, smirking as you slinked back into your dress and fixed your hair and lipstick. Especially seeing as now you could go back to the party with the warmth of his seed inside you, dripping past your pretty little panties and down your thighs.

And it was just a bonus that Konstantine wouldn't look you in the eye for the rest of the night.

Taglist: @twistedstitcher27 @rexxdjarin @frietiemeloen @fivedicksinatrenchcoat @jedimastersovi @hnnybee @sleepingsun501 @virginoliveoil @rosmariner @sunshinesdaydream @adikas-world @theroguesully @dangerousstrawberrypie @kraytclaw @lindsaygallof @misogirl828 @thefact0rygirl @mxkyrie @rain-on-kamino @coffeyorky

Sam's Pen and Sword Kinktober 2022 Taglist Form

To folks who wish to be tagged in my works, make sure to double check your visibility settings. I can’t tag you unless you have made your blog visible.

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naerwenia · 6 months

Text

Missing motivation.

I sometimes write stuff, but I've not been very motivated lately (like, I have three different works in progress, with clear plans and story arcs, but I just can't).

Mostly x fem reader stories, mostly smut, but I also have some cute fluff pieces. Mozus Trein, Tarkin, Thrawn, Nemesis, and William Afton have been written for.

So check out my old stuff and maybe leave a comment or tell me what you would like to read from me. I mostly do this for myself, but doing everything creative just for myself is not that fulfilling now.

#x reader #x f!reader #missing inspiration #fic writing #mozus trein x reader #tarkin x reader #grand moff tarkin x reader #thrawn x reader #william afton x reader #re3 nemesis x reader

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acatalystrising · 1 year

Text

I NEED more Boba content. I really do. And I genuinely hope we get more. Obviously I’ll just have to write more to fill the void (and I will) but, but…

I’m just saying…

✨THRAWN✨

#I really really need more Boba content #I’m starving over here #and I’ll keep writing Boba stories to fill the void #but am I hype about Thrawn #yes #Will I maybe perhaps write something Thrawn related #probably #but I need more of my green tin can man before I waste away #give him back to me #boba fett #book of boba fett #star wars #the book of boba fett #tbobf #writing #boba fett x f!reader #boba fett x reader

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bits-and-babs · 7 months

Text

✧ 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 ✧

with one week until october, i've decided it's time i return to writing. i've planned out a release schedule for a kinktober celebration, and hope that i'll be able to complete it this year ! please enjoy, i can't wait to release work for you all again ! ღ

from the 1st - 31st i will be posting one smut fic a day with different prompts featuring different characters. all fics relating to this event will be tagged kinktober 2023. this masterlist will be continually updated as i go.

minors dni: please note all writing in this event is not suitable for minors. if i find minors interacting with my work, you will be blocked.

content tags: please be mindful of the content tags on my fics. each fic will have it's own separate cw section, detailing any sensitive or triggering content. i give ample warning, so if you don't like do not read. all fics will be written as f!reader.

tagging: i will be tagging my usual taglist for the characters I write each day. if you wish to be tagged on each day of kinktober, please sign up via the taglist below.

navigation blog rules taglist

𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ─

OCTOBER 001.

camgirl | simon 'ghost' riley x camgirl!reader summary: a new client sends a request for a solo-cam performance. his lack of detail and scarce details leave you unprepared. cw: f!reader, sexwork, dirty talk, breast-play, m & f masturbation, use of sex toy, use of honorific 'sir' but no real power dynamic.

OCTOBER 002.

touch starved | din djarin x reader summary: the child has been getting in the way of you and mando spending time together. after weeks without your touch, he's finally reaching his limit. cw: f!reader, needy din, slightly ooc din to fit the theme, begging, oral (m receiving), cumming early, reference to f oral.

OCTOBER 003.

phone sex | johnny mactavish x reader summary: on leave, johnny can't resist pestering you while you're at work. or perhaps he just can't resist you... cw: f!reader, sexting, dirty talk, voyeurism(?), begging, masturbation (m & f), orgasm denial, inferred voyeurism. this one made me blush.

OCTOBER 004.

aphrodisiac | grand admiral thrawn x reader summary: grand admiral thrawn has a unconventional way of convincing neighbouring planets to pledge allegiance to the empire. cw: aphrodisiacs/sex pollen vibes so dub-con, fingering, cum eating, political mind games.

OCTOBER 005.

clothes on | joel miller x reader summary: trapped inside a wardrobe whilst hiding from infected, joel ups the ante of survival. cw: f!reader, threat to life, mentions of gore, quiet or die kind of vibe, unprotected sex, p in v sex, cream pie, autassassinophilia – arousal in the fear of being killed.

OCTOBER 006.

nipple piercings | captain john price x reader summary: three months into your sas training course, chief directional instructor captain john price drills you on cold-water-shock survival. cw: f!reader, cold water shock, power imbalance (recruit x directing staff), secret relationship, breast/nipple stimulation, unprotected sex, p in v sex, cream pie.

OCTOBER 007.

incubus | maul x reader summary: a bizarre creature comes to visit your dreams, promising to satiate the desperate yearning of your body that it sensed across the plains of the force. cw: incubus! – somnophilia and dub-con by default, size kink, rough sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex, cream-pie, choking, breath play, use of pet name ‘dove’

𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐓𝐖𝐎 —

OCTOBER 008.

roleplay | könig x reader summary: as with all of your bedroom antics with könig, you plant the seed. but when he finally succumbs to your devious plan, you struggle to withstand the heat. cw: roleplay hostage situation, faux attack, faux disregard for partners comfort (konig cares a lot though, i promise) oral sex (m receiving), rough oral sex, face slapping, rough deep throating, swallowing.

OCTOBER 009.

witch!reader | din djarin x reader summary: cw:

OCTOBER 010.

cheating | captain john price x reader summary: cw:

OCTOBER 011.

breeding kink | grand admiral thrawn x reader summary: cw:

OCTOBER 012.

caught sex | joel miller x reader summary: cw:

OCTOBER 013.

morning sex | john mactavish x reader summary: cw:

OCTOBER 014.

hate sex | oberyn martel x reader summary: cw:

𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 —

tbc...

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #spooktober #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #john soap mctavish #john soap mctavish x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin smut #star wars #star wars smut #mwii smut #thrawn #grand admiral thrawn x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #tlou smut

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nahoney22 · 4 months

Note

Hi, love! 💙

May I request a F!Reader x Thrawn? NSFW.

Jealous Thrawn , NSFW, tension with Director Orson Krennic~

Reader is an imperial intern in training & stationed to work under the Admiral for anything needed to make up community hours. Reader has had a good idea that Thrawn probably disliked them due to his distant & cold demeanor around reader & slight remarks. Reader is not too fond of the Chiss, finds them ‘rude’, but still obeys (loyal to the empire).

However Reader finds out that’s far from the truth when invited to an Imperial Ball, getting hit on by other superiors (Director Krennic, slight Rivalry between both men from Death Star vs Tie fighter Project), making Thrawn jealous & admit “someone like yourself can make a man like me lose control & do the most unimaginable of things, and suddenly my loyalty & devotion becomes all yours.”

A Warrior’s Needs***

Grand Admiral Thrawn X F!Reader

word count: 8.7k

Sneaky peak at my collab with @raevulsix 🤍 ^

When invited to the Imperial Ball to act as a spy, your galaxy is turned upside down when you witnessed your Boss, Thrawn, get jealous.

warnings: NSFW, 18+ only. Explicit sexual content and language, dom!Thrawn, sub!reader, smut, dirty talk, praises, p in v sex, blowjob, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, face fuck, multiple positions, finger sucking, biting & marking, mating press, creampie, aftercare, doubtful reader, brief mentions of alcohol, jealous and possessive thrawn, kinda boss x secretary, shy imperial female reader who wears a white dress with slit. Director Krennic flirting with reader. NSFW ART. Not proofread. Also noticed I didn’t hit the brief entirely but it’s more or less on point 😅

Includes Fanart by the incredible Raevulsix that can be found here and the NSFW one here so go give her all the support and reblogs! 🤍

Authors note: oh, bestie here we go! This is my first time writing for Thrawn so I hope I portrayed him somewhat okay - I never kinda finished rebels yes I know bad girl. Co-wrote with @raevulsix 🤍

The seemingly endless day was filled with a relentless stream of forms, data analysis, and tasks delegated by your boss that was causing a strain on your eyes from staring at the screen. But when your superior got called away, you seized the opportunity to lean back in your chair and take a moment of respite and listen to the faint hum of the ship.

As you reclined, you surveyed the expansive office belonging to your boss, Grand Admiral Thrawn. The space was dimly lit, dominated by blacks and greys, with a faint luminescent glow that did little to alleviate your eye strain.

Even sitting for the prolonged period had caused your legs to stiffen, so, anticipating Admiral Thrawn's return in about an hour, you stood up and began to walk around, seeking relief.

The office itself was a marvel, a fusion of refined taste and strategic functionality. Intricate artwork adorned the walls, showcasing pieces from various galaxies, while carefully placed artifacts adorned the shelves, creating a captivating ambiance.

You hesitated, torn between returning to your desk or succumbing to curiosity just this once. Normally, being in the same room as your boss felt challenging due to his cold demeanor and strict rules – no speaking unless spoken to, avoiding direct eye contact, and focusing solely on work.

The reputation of the Chiss, their stringent standards and unwavering determination, preceded him. His formidable nature and unyielding drive to succeed made him a daunting figure which makes him all the most frightening. Though, he had never raised his voice in your presence. The odd quip of passiveness was hard to miss however when he spoke to those under him or even as an equal, but luckily, you never came across it.

Until right now.

“I sincerely hope that you looking through my possessions is a hint that you have finished today’s reports.”

Startled by his sudden appearance behind you, you turned wide-eyed and mortified, stammering out an apology. "Forgive me, Sir—Admiral—Grand Admiral," you fumbled, feeling the weight of his piercing red gaze. "I didn't realise you had returned."

His cold stare and piercing eyes bore into you as he coldly acknowledged your oversight. "Now tell me, what are you doing?"

Faltering, you considered fabricating a lie, but Thrawn's demeanor warned against deception. "My legs and eyes started to ache," you admitted slowly, collecting your nervous breaths. "I stood up to walk around the office in your absence to ease it off. Admittedly, I got distracted by your collection." You gestured awkwardly before composing yourself. "I will finish off the reports immediately."

As you settled back at your desk, attempting to regain composure with shaky fingers swiping across the monitor, Thrawn's silent presence once again caught you off guard. A large hand suddenly appeared in front of your face, tapping the screen as he scrutinized your day's work. Frozen, you held your breath, transfixed on the screen.

After an intense minute, he broke the silence. "I need your assistance tonight," he declared, withdrawing his hand and making his way to his desk. You swiveled in your chair to face him.

Tonight? The prospect of more work dampened your spirits. "You will attend this Imperial Ball," he stated, not bothering to look your way.

A ball? You? Your flabbergasted expression went unnoticed as you asked, "May I question why you're asking me to go Grand Admiral? I believe this is for people like yourself, not just workers. And I’m just an intern."

He leaned over his desk, hands flat on the surface, and lifted his gaze to you. "I hope that's not an insinuation that I do not work."

Your day seemed to be spiraling further downward. "Sorry, forgive me, I didn't mean for it to come across like that." Nervously wringing your fingers, you stood. "I just don't think I'm the right candidate for whatever it is."

"And yet you do not know what it is I am asking of you," he replied simply. For a moment, you thought you detected a hint of amusement, but the dimness of the room and the strain on your eyes left you uncertain.

His posture regained its imposing stance as he circled his desk, arranging items with precision, making an already orderly space even more meticulous. Leaning against the black desk, he continued, "There have been reports of a few individuals willing to expose the Empire's plans on Lothal and they've been invited. I need you to gather as much information as you can and report back to me."

You had heard about this upcoming ball. All of your superiors would be attending and you had very little doubt that your friends, other workers like yourself, would be attending. So, the confusion lingered; why involve you in this? Hiring spies seemed a more logical choice. "So, when we land and head to the settlement, dress up.”

You are almost at a loss for words, was this some kind of punishment or did he sincerely trust you this much? So many questions yet his answers won’t settle with you regardless. "But Grand Admiral, I... I don't even own a dress."

"All of that has been arranged already."

Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you hardly recognised yourself in the white dress that starkly contrasted with your usual Imperial attire. Only applying little makeup due to the fact you didn’t know how glamorous this was going to be, you marveled at the intricate details of the crystals adorning your dress—light and elegant.

As you added the finishing touches to the ensemble, you spent a moment admiring the transformation. The dress fit perfectly, making you wonder how Thrawn acquired your exact measurements. Perhaps it was part of the meticulous process involving your enrollment details he scoured through.

Yet, a peculiar thought crossed your mind: imagining Thrawn personally selecting this dress for you. Shaking off the notion, you grumbled to yourself, averting your gaze from the mirror. Such thoughts seemed absurd, given the professional context and how alluring you felt with a dress with a knee high slit. Your gut, however, betrayed you, swirling with a sense of uncertainty.

Left in disarray, you then pondered the impending social interaction with your superiors. How in the galaxy were you going to do this?

Thrawn had departed without providing you any guidance, leaving you to grapple with the dilemma of presenting yourself as his assistant or someone of greater significance.

When the time came, navigating the unfamiliar surroundings with nervous steps, you followed the confident strides of those who seemed familiar with the venue.

Presenting your pass to a guard, you slipped inside and held back a gasp at the sight that unfolded—an elegance seldom witnessed within the Empire's strict regimes. It was special, yet you couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place.

As a wallflower, you stood on the sidelines, observing and absentmindedly tapping your fingers against a glass of an unfamiliar alcoholic concoction handed to you by a server. Unbeknownst to you at first, your eyes were scanning the crowd, searching for your boss, Thrawn.

Surrounded by people you didn't know on a personal level, everyone exuded a somewhat regal aura. The faint but lovely music played in the background as the room unfolded into a wide-open space where various groups mingled, leaving you feeling like a hopeless outsider.

Taking a sip, cursing your shaky hand, you mustered the courage to fulfill your task. It was time to eavesdrop and gather the information Thrawn sought.

Worming your way into conversations wasn’t the easiest task you ever had to do but still, you managed it. Avoiding small talk, you nodded and smiled, feigning comprehension while attempting to extract useful information.

Yet, nothing seemed amiss.

Everyone appeared content with the Empire's forthcoming plans and events, leaving you struggling to maintain the forced smiles and laughter.

As you moved from group to group, you still found yourself keeping an eye out for Thrawn but no luck. Perhaps he wasn’t even attending. After all, his presence to you would have stood out since he was the only Chiss and his character was non-short of intriguing.

After an hour of this charade, weariness crept in. Your feet throbbed in the unfamiliar heels, prompting your excuse from a group - to whom didn’t seem to even acknowledge your existence - no one noticed your departure as you went to a quiet corner to collect yourself.

In the quiet corner, frustration and exhaustion compounded as you pondered the lack of information to report back to Thrawn. With past mishaps already haunting your thoughts, you berated yourself for the potential third strike.

However, things started to take an unexpected turn.

"Not enjoying the night?" The voice sliced through your thoughts, and you turned to see a figure adorned in a stark white military imperial uniform with a flowing cape to match. There was only one man you knew who wore that ensemble.

"Director Krennic," you blurted out, swiftly standing and adjusting your dress, visibly flustered. "I was just taking a moment for myself."

The man chuckled, swiftly suggesting you retake your seat, which, hesitantly, you did as he settled beside you.

Internally, you were freaking out. The power and influence of Director Krennic were both impeccable and imposing, especially considering his involvement with the upcoming and developing 'Death Star' project. "I hope you don't mind the company? It's been a long evening for me too," he mentioned, his gaze intense.

His stare unsettled you, sending an uncomfortable tingle down your spine. Yet, despite your unease, declining the company of one of your superiors wasn't an option. "Not at all," you replied, forcing a laugh that sounded awkward but hopefully convincing.

"Since you know who I am," Director Krennic began, turning to face you, "it is only fair that you tell me who I have the pleasure of meeting?"

A gulp caught in your throat. This was the first time tonight that someone had paid attention to you, and you debated whether to fabricate details about your identity. Ultimately, you settled for honesty—your name, at least. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I've heard many things about you," you said, hoping your nervous breaths weren't too apparent.

He smiled, seemingly charming. "Beautiful name for a beautiful lady."

Mentally, your smile dropped, but you maintained it outwardly. Was he flirting with you? This exceeded any expectations for the night. "Oh, erm, why thank you."

He chuckled, leaning back and making himself comfortable on the loveseat you both occupied, taking a sip of his drink. "So, tell me about yourself. What is it you do?"

The moment of decision that had loomed over you all night finally arrived, and you found yourself veering away from the complete truth.

His reaction was palpable. A flicker of tension crossed his expression, transforming his once-charming smile into one that grew tense and strained. "Ah," he responded after a pause, his fingers tapping against the glass as his demeanor turned slightly hostile. "So, I will assume you work under someone of... authority."

The word 'authority' sounded more like a growl than a mere observation. It was evident that Krennic held some animosity toward Thrawn, likely due to their conflicting projects that often caused tensions between the two.

"That she does."

A voice sliced through the tension, and you turned to see Thrawn standing behind both of you. Your eyes involuntarily scanned his attire—a departure from his usual white military uniform to an impeccably suave and expensive-looking all-black tuxedo. It was a stark contrast to his typical appearance, and he looked good, remarkably good.

"Thrawn," Krennic acknowledged, standing to match his height. Kind of.

"Director Krennic..." Thrawn drawled slowly, the two of them staring each other down.

(Art by Raevulsix)

The tense exchange between Thrawn and Krennic didn't escape your notice, particularly Krennic's apparent lack of acknowledgment toward your boss's full title, indicating a hint of pride. Thrawn, on the other hand, maintained his dignity with elegance.

"I was just speaking to this nice young lady and getting acquainted," Krennic stated.

"I noticed," Thrawn replied, his gaze briefly fixating on you. A sense of impending chastisement for lying to a superior loomed, but for now, Thrawn played along, redirecting his attention to Krennic. "But I need to speak with her in private.”

Krennic's expression twisted into a smirk. "We all serve the same purpose, Thrawn. Whatever you can say to her, you can say in front of me."

Maintaining his composure, Thrawn remained unaffected by Krennic's arrogance. "It is a matter that does not concern you."

"And it does her?" Krennic prodded.

"Yes," Thrawn affirmed, tone low.

Krennic's scrutiny fell upon you, making you feel a chill run down your spine. Unable to meet their gazes, you were frozen under his stare. "I see. Well," he extended his hand, and tentatively, you placed yours in his, allowing him to help you stand, his grip maintaining a slight tension. "It appears my presence is not warranted."

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Director Krennic. Perhaps we could talk again soon?" The words slipped out before you could consider the implications, and Krennic's sly smile at your proposition didn't escape Thrawn's notice, his glare feeling like sharp daggers at the back of your head.

Suddenly, you’re pulled towards Krennic, his breath lingered near your face as he spoke in a whisper but loud enough for a certain someone to hear, "That would please me, but I shouldn't continue to play with possessions that don't belong to me."

Thrawn's sharp rebuke sliced through the air, "That will be all, Krennic." In an instant, Krennic released his hold on you, leaving you stunned as he walked away.

Taking a deep breath, you turned to face Thrawn, your heart racing. The unsettling implication of being referred to as a possession of more so, his possession, lingered in your thoughts. As you stared up at Thrawn's stern expression, full of thunder, you tried to gather your thoughts.

"Grand Admiral Thrawn, I—"

"You are not to ever speak to Director Krennic again, is that understood?" his command cut through your attempted explanation.

The tension thickened as you nodded in acknowledgment of Thrawn's command, keeping your gaze lowered. However, instead of walking away, he approached, sending a jolt through you.

A gentle touch beneath your chin lifted your gaze to meet his, and you're awestruck as his eyes glowed. Not even metaphorically or hypothetically - red eyes that held a powerful allure, captivating your attention. His words became a distant murmur as you found yourself too entranced by his intense gaze to even realise he was speaking to you.

Was anyone else seeing this? Surely someone had to have been watching this somewhat intimate exchange.

Suddenly, his raised brow and deep furrowed eyes broke through your reverie, snapping you back to reality. "Sorry," you stammered, embarrassed. "What did you say?"

For a second, he paused before a sly smile merges on his face. "I said,” he starts but a part of you didn’t quite believe he was telling you everything, “I hope you have some information to tell me. After all, that is why you are here," he repeated, his tone unwavering.

Your stomach sank as you realised you had nothing to report.

"Actually, I—" you began, but he interrupted, instructing you to head to his quarters to discuss further. As he stepped away, you finally regained your senses, but before you could utter a word, he vanished into the crowd.

Feeling the weight of the situation, you sighed, acknowledging the mess you were in.

Entering Thrawn's office, anxiety flooded your thoughts, making the walk feel slow and burdensome. Anticipation of the imminent repercussions swirled in your mind.

Without seeing the point in waiting outside, you ventured in, greeted by the familiar ambiance—chilled air and a dimly lit room adorned with sculptures, artifacts, and paintings, showcasing Thrawn's appreciation for art, a shared interest between the two of you.

Moving towards his desk, your fingers traced the flat surface before taking a seat in one of the chairs opposite.

"I feel sick," you muttered to yourself, running a hand through your hair as your knee bounced nervously.

"Perhaps some water?" Thrawn's calm and composed voice cut through the silence.

Caught off guard by Thrawn's sudden appearance, you startled in your seat, quickly composing yourself with an apologetic tone. "Sorry, I... I'm fine."

He hummed softly, crossing into the room. "Are you sure you do not want a drink?" His offer was polite, but you declined, mustering a steadier breath. "I'm sure. Thank you, though."

Seated behind the desk, Thrawn's piercing gaze seemed to bore into you, an intensity that was strangely captivating rather than uncomfortable. Boldly facing the inevitable, knowing your fate might be sealed, you met his gaze head-on.

Despite working under him for months, it was the first time you truly looked at him. His angular face was striking, his skin a captivating shade of blue reminiscent of the most beautiful oceans you had only dreamed of seeing, yet it was his glowing eyes that held the allure.

"So," he finally spoke, leaning forward and interlacing his fingers on the desk, breaking the silence, "fill me in." The directive was clear, and despite your nerves, you prepared to relay the truth, whatever the consequences might be.

"Grand Admiral Thra—"

"Thrawn," he interrupted, and confusion furrowed your brows.

"S-Sorry?"

"Thrawn is just fine. Proceed," he instructed, nodding, and despite your confusion, the fear of falling short in your duty took precedence.

"I have nothing to report," you rushed, holding your breath.

Thrawn's expression remained unchanged as he leaned back in his seat, nodding slowly. "Is that because you spent the evening with Director Krennic?"

Your heart sank at the insinuation. "Not at all. I only spoke to him for a minute before you came over," you defended, sitting a little more forward. "I genuinely have nothing to report. I saw nothing awry."

"Interesting," Thrawn drawled. "And he gave no hints of deception to you?"

Thrawn was clearly fishing for information on Krennic, but you had nothing substantial to provide. "No, though he wasn't too pleased about me working for you. Lie or not."

The room fell into a hush, the only sound being the rhythmic tapping of his fingers against the desk. "That I can imagine, given how he was looking at you all night."

The mention of Krennic's prolonged interest caught your attention, and Thrawn noticed, a fleeting smirk crossing his face. "How is it you like the dress?"

Glancing down at the attire, you smoothed out its seams. It was the most extravagant outfit you had ever worn, and while it felt foreign, it also made you feel special. Especially considering the attention from someone as influential as Krennic. "It's lovely."

"I knew it would look good on you," he replied casually, causing your heart to pause momentarily.

"Can I ask what you mean by that?" you inquired, exhaling shakily, eyes widening. Did he choose this dress for you?

Thrawn tilted his head. "I think it is obvious what I mean," he stated, then stood, circling the desk until he stood in front of you. You craned your neck to look up at his imposing figure. "But I will spell it out for you. I picked this dress specifically for you… And you look divine."

The realisation struck like a thunderbolt, rendering you momentarily speechless. Krennic's cryptic insinuation about being a 'possession' suddenly made sense—jealousy seemed to be the most plausible explanation, although it felt improbable given your position as just his assistant. Then, doubts began to seep in as you recalled that he might have had someone else before you, and maybe even before that.

Standing up, nerves jangling, you instinctively took a step back from the Chiss, your thumbs nervously twiddling as you grappled with the situation. "I'm not that kind of girl, Grand Admiral—"

"Thrawn."

"Yes, sorry... I'm not that kind of girl."

He regarded you with an almost quizzical look, his eyes betraying a subtle understanding of the implications behind your words. "And I'm not that type of man," he responded calmly, though your scoff interrupted him. A brief pause followed as he closed the distance between you, his gaze piercing. "You do not believe me."

"You're a powerful man, you've probably had numerous assistants, interns, before me..." you stated your thoughts, a surge of boldness propelling your words. "I don't want to be just another assistant, disposable at your whim."

Thrawn observed you, his face maintaining an air of impassivity yet hinting at a hidden admiration for your courage. "May I be honest?"

Silent but attentive, you allowed him to continue, even as his words stung. "Your work is subpar. Lacking."

Ouch.

"Yet, you've remained my longest-serving assistant," he remarked, drawing closer, and this time, you didn't pull away. "Despite mistakes, missed deadlines... Do you know why?"

He stood before you, his presence almost overwhelming, his eyes emanating a deep red hue, sending shivers down your spine as his warm breath brushed against your skin. Inhaling a distinctive, spicy scent mixed with a hint of alcohol from the Ball, you felt your knees weakening, your preconceptions about him slowly crumbling. "N-No," you finally managed to breathe out.

Thrawn's admission rang out in the quiet room, his voice a blend of quiet intensity. "Because what I want is you. I want you to be mine, I need you to be mine."

"Grand A—"

"Say my name properly," his hand swiftly found your waist, tracing the delicate details of the dress he had meticulously chosen for you. "Say it."

Your eyes met his, the words you intended to voice dissolving as all you could focus on was his demand. "Thrawn."

His chest heaved subtly at the sound of his name spoken by you. "Again," he urged, this time his other hand tenderly yet with some vigour cupping your jaw.

Your eyes closed involuntarily, caught in a trance. "Thrawn... what is happening?"

"You have captured my interest since the first time you entered my office," his hand glided from your waist to the small of your back, and you found yourself instinctively leaning into his touch.

The nagging doubt that this could be too good to be true lingered in your mind. "Have you said that to all of your assistants?"

He chuckled, the resonance of his low laughter sending vibrations through your chest. "Now, now... I was not lying when I said that I am not that kind of man. Have you ever seen a Chiss with another person?"

Truthfully, you had never witnessed any other Chiss aside from him. "Well, no, but—"

"Then understand me," he insisted, drawing you closer against his chest, your hands clutching the lapels of his black tuxedo. "Understand that I do not seek companionship, I do not pursue romantic commitments. War and military endeavors dominate the minds of my species. So, tell me, why are you at the forefront of mine?"

"I... don't know," you confessed, feeling an electric excitement coursing through your skin.

His hand cupped your cheek, his breath grazing against your skin as he leaned in. "A woman like you can make a man like me lose control."

His proximity made it hard to breathe, yet it felt inexplicably right to lean toward him. "Can anyone know about us?"

The query hung in the charged air, bold and daring. You anticipated the response, though his confirmation solidified it. "No, nobody can know."

The weight of the decision hung heavy in your mind. You understood the necessity of keeping your connection with him secret; his position was far too vital to risk any involvement. “But, my devotion, my loyalty… it’s all yours.” His interruption broke through your thoughts, and as you opened your eyes to meet his gaze, you found yourself once again ensnared by the fiery red glow that captivated you.

"Lose control then."

Without hesitation, his lips crashed onto yours, enveloping your senses in a whirlwind of passion. His kiss, intense and commanding, nearly swept you off your feet. His hands explored your body, fingers gripping your hips firmly before lifting you effortlessly. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his torso as he skillfully guided you through his quarters, never once breaking the embrace, and eventually leading you into his bedroom.

You find yourself being placed on a bed, his body leaning over you as his lips, intoxicating and flavoured with just a tinge of alcohol from this evening move from your lips, down your neck before he stands over you.

“I have submitted to you,” with one hand he unclasps the button of his tux before moving it off his shoulders and carelessly chucking it to the side, followed by him unclasping the top button of his shirt, “are you willing to submit to me?”

(Art by Raevulsix)

Sitting up on your elbows, you’re prepared to answer but your words are caught in your mouth as he unbuckles his pants, sliding the belt out of the loops before he releases his strong, throbbing cock.

Your mouth salivates, watching as he moves his hand along its length. You couldn’t help the gasp that left your lips just at the size of him and it made you both excited and also a little nervous.

“I assume that you like what you see?”

You nod, your legs coming together as you feel your cunt begin to throb which doesn’t go unnoticed by Thrawn. “Crawl towards me.”

Obeying, you crawl on your hands and knees across the sheets, your white dress trailing behind you before you are sat comfortably in front of him, his beautiful blue cock twitching under your wanting gaze.

Thrawn lets out a soft sigh, sliding his hand down to the base of his length and tilts his head at you before dangling the curve of his dick down toward you. You open your mouth almost on instinct and slide your tongue out, grazing the underside of the head.

“You’ve done this before,” he comments with glowing eyes.

“Once or twice,” you whisper, sitting up onto your knees to take the fullness of the head into your mouth, rolling your tongue around the tip of it, melting at the saltiness of his precum.

Thrawn moans, long and low. It's been excruciating for him to not have been able to touch you until now and you were absolutely perfect. Large blue hands lift to your head and his fingers slide through the roots of your hair, tugging softly—encouraging, pushing you to take more. "Now that is my good girl." He practically purrs, and the ache between your legs throbs even more with excitement. “You are wonderful.”

You blush, unsure if it’s due to the compliments or the fact your boss's cock is stuffed in your mouth which had your lips etched open wide and eyes already starting to water. As he drops his pants fully and removes his shirt from his body along with his tie and pants, you look up at him with adoration.

You run your hands up and down his toned thighs as you begin to take him deeper into your mouth (if you even can), your saliva dribbling down his heated skin and your chin.

Thrawn curls his dexterous digits tighter into your hair and holds your head still as you envelope him as far as you can, opening your throat for him as he begins a violent and sudden ruts into your mouth. You whimper in please, a hand coming between your legs as you pull your dress to the side and dive your fingers straight to your clit as he deepthroats your pretty mouth.

His grunts and moans fill the room yet remain low and husky as you feel his tip poke at the back of your throat that forces a response from you; gagging on his velvety and soaked cock.

You hold strong for him, your fingers aching as you rub your clit in a circular fashion and push down the pleasant assault on your throat. “Look at you, a mess… it is rather arousing.” He cooes, one of his hands leaving your hair and holding his cock as he pulls out, giving you a very brief gasp of air before he slips it straight past your lips again.

Closing your eyes, you swallow uselessly around his thickness as he grunts and gives a few shallow thrusts before he pulls you back off. The sound you make is ragged, spit bubbling from your lips and tears rolling down your cheeks as he cups a hand under your chin and brings your face up. “And did I say you could touch yourself?” His eyes glance down at the sight of your hand between your legs. “Very insubordinate.”

You had never been so belittled yet praised at the same time before but it had your blood boiling in lust for it. “I couldn’t help it,”

“That much is obvious,” he replies as he wipes a stray tear from your cheek, “lay back. I want to look at you.”

Doing as you’re told, you scoot back before laying back on the bed, your head hitting one of the pillows as he analyzes you fully from the end of the bed. His expression was unreadable, not showing much signs but as he looked at you, you just admired him for a second too.

Tall, handsome and clearly strong from being a skilled fighter, you were a little breathless and now, a little insecure.

“Don’t worry,” his words broke you out of your trance, watching him kneel on the bed before he moves towards you, “you are breathtaking to look at.”

Heat rises to your cheeks and bashfully, you look away from his gaze but find yourself softly moaning as you feel something warm and wet caress at your exposed thigh.

Looking back his way, Thrawn lay flat on his stomach and tediously licked at your flesh, your skin dousing in goosebumps at his touch. “Thrawn…” you breathe, now meeting his dark, glowing gaze as he folds your dress upwards, exposing yourself to him.

Thrawn pushes your panties to the side, hooking his finger through the damp fabric to expose your glistening cunt to which he made a noise of satisfaction. “You smell beautiful.”

You let out a soft and nervous chuckle but your nerves are dwindled when Thrawn continues to kiss at your inner thighs, tasting the slightly salty tang of your skin before you let out a small yelp of surprise when his teeth sink into your skin, his tongue circling around the teeth marks that he left. “I hope you do not mind if I sometimes find myself needing to taste you.”

You blink at him, breathing ragged. Nobody had ever bitten you before but it didn’t even hurt. It was new to you and the sensation made your mind whirl. So, you shake your head and watch as he continues to leave love bites on the inside of your thighs, marking his territory; his breath warm and fanning agasint your sex that you were so eager for him to touch.

“Thrawn… touch me. Please.”

There’s a chuckle that lasts a moment before he says, “I am not one to take orders… but since you asked so nicely.” He growled the last part until his lips latched to your cunt and you let out the most pathetic whine you could muster.

“Perfect." Thrawn grunts, his breath on your wetness making your toes curl as tongue slides flat against your folds and up to your clit.

“F-Fuck, Thrawn…!” You choke, stifling your ragged gasp with a hand over your mouth in the fears someone would hear the lewd noises of your moaning and the lapping and sucking of your pussy.

You look down at Thrawn at work, obsessed with the fact that his eyes were trained on you with an intense gaze. He’s sucking on your clit with such dominance that has your hands gripping the sheets beneath you as his hands clasp on your thighs, spreading them open as they threaten to close.

It had been a while since you had been touched like this so there’s no surprise that you felt your climax begin to bubble.

“Oh my.. fuck… Thrawn I’m going to-.”

“Do it. Cum on my tongue. Now.”

Legs spasming, stars blurring your vision you feel yourself let go, followed by a collected moan from the both of you as he laps up your juices. Your body is heaving from the sensation but Thrawn doesn’t stop.

“Another.”

“T-Thrawn… I can’t…” you rasp, completely overstimulated as your body writhes in your dress and across the sheets.

“I know you humans are capable of some remarkable achievements. This is one of them. Cum again.” His mouth is back on your folds, tongue rubbing along your clit furiously to force another orgasm from you.

You wanted to cum again, desperately, but your body was tingling and shaking too much for you to fathom what was even happening.

Despite the bed being so large and spacious, as your body involuntarily fights against him, your head is bumping against the headboard as Thrawn pushes his tongue deep inside you, strong and powerful hands biting into the flesh of your thighs as your whole body convulses.

“Thrawn,” you gasp, your hand finding its way onto the sheets, gripping tight, “I can’t.”

“Another.” He demands from you, tongue relentless. Not once did he even lift a finger to your pussy, the pleasure being solely done by his tongue. You pondered what it’d feel to have his fingers inside you but as the familiar sight of stars began to speckle your vision, your body fires up.

“That’s it,” he growls into your cunt, sending violent vibrations through your body, “I knew you could do it.”

You're crying his name, sweat coating your body as you let out a lewd cry as your body gives in to Thrawn’s advances.

As you heave, catching back your breath Thrawn has moved away from your cunt as you flop onto your side, completely spent.

Your legs still twitch and Thrawn watches you in amazement. The mattress sinks beside you as Thrawn brings you to him, your back pressed to his bare chest as he runs his fingers up and down your arm. “You really are quite enchanting.”

You let out a breathless laugh and found your head falling back into the crook of his neck, your heart rate calming down. “So are you.”

The compliment repeats in his mind, not really used to such pleasantries but nonetheless gives a rare smile. “Pleasures all mine,” he purrs, leaning down as his lips ghost over your ear before he plants a delicate kiss to your lobe that had you biting your lip.

You could feel his erection pressing into your back and you damned the beautiful dress for blocking the warmth of his skin against you again. But despite the room having a chill to it, the fire in both of you was sure to warm you up.

His lips move from your ear as he leans more over you and you crane your neck, giving him the access you knew he desired as his lips found your skin, teeth grazing your pulse.

Your breaths came in shallow, uneven waves, charged with anticipation as you awaited his next move.

"Do I detect a flicker of unease?" His voice, low and delicate, cascaded over you, sending goosebumps skittering along your spine.

You turned to meet his gaze, a response ready. "Not at all," you replied, your voice betraying the hint of excitement that danced within.

He leaned closer, his words a whisper against your lips. "All in good time, my pet. Patience," he murmured, grazing a phantom kiss over your mouth. "For now, I just want to revel in your presence."

Your smile was tender, curiosity lacing your words. "And how long do you plan to bask in this admiration?"

His gaze held yours, an intensity in his touch as his hand cupped your jaw. "Are you expected elsewhere tonight?" His inquiry lingered, hinting at a deeper intention.

“No,” you shake your head, looking down at his lips and subtly biting your own before meeting his gaze, “I just want you.”

“You are to do exactly as I say,” he utters, his thumb trailing over your lower lip before you take the instinct of letting him slide it inside your mouth, allowing you to suck on his digit eagerly, “and that is to be patient.”

You whine softly around his thumb, your pussy beginning to throb as you crave him. Suddenly, you got bold. You pull his thumb out of your mouth with a pop and meet his beautiful eyes again. “Perhaps I should have kept speaking to Director Kren-.”

He snaps.

A fire sizzled in him at the mere sound of his rival's name coming from your mouth, his jaw clenching but alas increasingly aroused at your defiance and his clear sign of jealousy.

Smashing his lips to yours, you’re brought to his chest with an intensity you hadn’t seen from him yet. Your lips felt swollen from his scorching kiss that left you breathless, needing more as you tug on his broad shoulders to bring him even closer to you.

“How dare you say his name in here,” he growls, raking his hands up your thighs as he shifts your dress past your knees, letting it ruch just above your navel and pulling your panties down to your ankles that you kick off, “that man infuriates me to no end.”

He leans over you, capturing your lips but before you could kiss back, he’s pulling away, teeth grazing your lower lip. “Sounds like you’re jealous,” you rasp only to receive a firm spank to your rear before his mouth moves to your neck, sucking and marking his territory once again.

“How can that be?” He murmurs against your hot, sweating skin, “I’m the one with the masterpiece.”

Before you could even fathom his words, you’re pushed up against the headboard, making space for Thrawn’s large and toned body between your legs, his cock and balls resting hot and heavy against your bare, wet cunt.

Dazed, you look at the scene between your legs before you, never in a thousand years would you think you would have the Grand Admirals cock just resting against you. On you.

“I’m going to fuck you,” his words both sounded like a command and a promise to which, you mouth a breathless ‘please’.

You whimper in anguish as he presses his cock down against your folds, teasing you as he thrusts his hips back and forth slowly. “I want you to beg. I want you to beg me to slide my cock into your pussy.”

“Please Thrawn, please fuck me. Please fuck me until I cum all over your cock again.” You wiggle your hips, attempting to coax Thrawn’s length to conveniently slip inside but by the size of him, this would be a delicate operation.

“That’s it,” he cooed, gripping his cock and stroking it slowly above you, letting the tip rub against your aching pearl, “you have submitted to me perfectly so far…”

Then, you feel his cock press into you, your pussy opening to welcome him all the way in. You're tender already but the pain that hits you as his cock splits you open is fucking incredible.

It’s hard to read his expression but he’s holding his breath, letting his eyes close he slowly seethes all the way in you. His fingers bruise into your thighs as he keeps them apart as you white-knuckle grip onto the sheets. “Wow,” you keen, “f-fuck - that’s amazing.”

“What a good girl you are,” his blazing eyes meet yours, “and it appears you take my cock exceptionally well.”

The motion of him sliding in and out of you slowly only lasts a few moments before Thrawn gives you everything. Grabbing your hips, he lifts you to meet his now rough and demanding commands, eyes not once leaving your face.

He’s analysing every movement, every sound and every look you make. Like he’s making a mental note of you.

Words strangled in your throat but the gentle groans and low rumble of his rare praises is enough to have your eyes rolling back, cursing loudly as you feel him so full inside you. A prick of heat dances down your spine and settles in your abdomen, increasing the already growing fire of arousal that was quickly overtaking you.

He moves one hand down your body, caressing your breasts from over your dress which has your head tilting back in pleasure but not before he grabs at your throat. His hold isn’t dangerous, in fact it was very alluring as he keeps your focus solely on him. “Don’t you look away from me.”

“Yes, Thrawn.” You pant, gasping as he ever so gently squeezes your throat as he drills hard and fast right into you

Minutes of exctasy pass and soon, Thrawn has flipped you so you straddled on top of him, not once breaking away from you as he ruts his hips upwards, your chest falling against his bare one as he fucks you with great determination.

“O-oh fuck! Thrawn please…!” You whimper pathetically, sobbing into his chest as his arms wrap around your body, pressing you tight against him, confined to his warm skin.

He’s groaning your name, teeth biting into the flesh of your shoulder before he moves you so you’re sat up straight, grabbing hold of your dress so you have nowhere to go. “Ride me. Come on.” With one hard spank to your arse, you squirm in pleasure; eyes locked to his as you began to move your hips to and fro, dragging your pussy along his cock that was soaked with your juices.

Nails biting your hips, you writhe on him, your hands falling to hold onto his toned pectorals, watching as he stares up at you as he fills every inch of you.

His blown pupils show that he is hungry and at long last, he starts to remove your dress. Tossing it to the side, he sits up slowly watching your breasts bounce up and down on your chest as you grind hard on his cock. “Your body would be perfect as a sculpture.” His fingers caress over your stiffened nipples, a hum of satisfaction in his throat. “That way I could admire you when you are in my absence.”

You couldn’t help yourself, planting a heated kiss to his lips as his words spur you on to satisfy the Grand Admiral. His right hand cups your cheek, his tongue sliding in your mouth where you could taste your orgasm from before. “I need you, Thrawn.”

“You are mine.” He murmurs to your lips, noticing as your rhythm starts to get jagged he does you the courtesy of laying you down on your side. And just like the before, he slips behind you but this time also sliding himself inside you.

Legs like jelly, your body is still alight with desire, one arm snaked under your nude body, cupping your jaw as he holds your head back just far enough so he can kiss and nip at your lips. You cock your leg up a bit, allowing Thrawn to fuck you with extra slickness. You take him inside your fluttering cunt with almost no resistance, just enveloping him in a heat that you were desperate for him to not to leave because it feels so good. You feel so good and so full.

The sound of his cock slapping your wet cunt was disgustingly filthy and you kept having the creeping nervous feeling that someone would have heard both of your secret ‘meeting’. “Nobody will enter,” he says as if reading your mind, “try and relax.”

His lips move from yours to your neck, sharp teeth grazing over your already bruised skin as he keeps one hand on your jaw, the other sliding over your breasts and giving them a teasing slap that emits a moan from your throat. “Oh, you like that? Would you care for another?”

And before you could even scream yes, he slaps your tits one more before his hand flies straight to your cunt, fingers expertly caressing your clit that makes your body involuntarily jolt.

“Gorgeous little tart.” He growls, hips now pounding into you that you were certain it was going to leave bruises as he circles his fingers deliciously over your swollen bud.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck—" you cry, sweat beads trailing down the side of your face, only to have Thrawn's strong tongue dancing with your own.

Toes curling, you're melting into his mouth and under his touch as you whimper that you’re going to cum, only for him to encourage you to do so. And you do.

Your body burns with heat until it feels like you have been doused with water, putting out the flame inside you. You cum harder than you think you ever have in your life. A strangled cry of pleasure is made from your mouth, as if you were in pain but not at all.

“That’s it… what a delicious sight you are.” He purrs, eyes burning with delight as his thrusting lets up, welcoming the feeling of your tight and wet walls caressing around his cock.

Then, you’re being moved into the most compromising position you could be. Your chest is heaving wildly, eyes glistening in lust because despite your legs still shaking from your climax, you are pressed onto your back, legs folding over your body as he crouches between your legs. His cock pushed down straight into your core. His veined hands grip your ankles, keeping you in place as well as using you for balance.

“You have presented yourself so well tonight and you have obeyed me perfectly,” he rasps, mouth almost drooling, “now is time for your reward.”

Speechless, as usual when you’re around him, you’re surprised at how flexible you suddenly are as your feet almost come to the side of your head. His body pressed tight to the backs of your legs until his lips touch yours, rough and demanding just like his thrusts.

The position, the sounds, who you were with was sending your mind into overdrive. Your hands find their way around his back, nails accidentally scratching at his skin that made him hiss subtly as you go to apologise, he says, “harder.”

“What?” You gasp, both from him unexpected pleasure in you clawing at his back and how his cock has filled you completely, tip pushing right to your cervix.

“Harder.”

So you do. Your fingers claw at him desperately, legs aching and clenching your cunt around his cock hungrily making the roll of Thrawn’s hips more violent and his subtle groans of pleasure louder.

His hot breath catches your own as he pressed his sweat-slicked forehead to yours, legs quivering as you pant his name.

“You’re going to take every drop of my seed, do you understand me?” He growls, a shit-eating smirk on his lips as he gauges your reaction.

You nod your head eagerly but it wasn’t a good enough answer for him as he lets go of one of your ankles and wraps a tight hand round your throat. “Answer me.”

“Yes, y-yes.” You cry in pleasure, matching his smirk before time seems to grind to a halt as he plants himself as far as he can go into your womb, letting all of his scorching seed spill out with each pulse from his stiff cock.

Rope after rope of white lace pours into your used pussy, and the Grand Admiral doesn’t dare to pull out before he has made sure that you have received every last drop inside of you.

He lets out a heaved, heated breath before he pulls out of you, the feeling lewd and filthy before he collapses on to the bed beside you.

You lay still, heart racing at what just happened and before you could even turn to look at your Boss, he had stood up and walked across the room and left behind a door.

A twinge of hurt proceeds you as well as the sudden change of temperature in the cold air. You swing your legs round and sit on the edge of the bed, running a hand through your sex-crazed hair before you swipe up your dress in your hands.

Before you could slip away, preparing for the awkward retreat to your own quarters, the door glided open with a hiss.

"I have drawn you a—" His voice filled the room, interrupting your hasty exit, causing you to swallow hard. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw him holding one white robe while draped in another.

"I just... I thought..." Your words trailed off as he advanced toward you, a sudden surge of nervousness overtaking you.

He tilted his head to the side, his gaze penetrating. "Did I not convey that every word I spoke was genuine?" The question hung in the air, his sincerity challenging any wavering doubts.

“It seems too good to be true.” Your sigh carried both disbelief and a tinge of self-doubt as he closed the gap between you, his presence a calming yet overwhelming force. "I don't deserve a man like you," you confessed, your words carrying the weight of uncertainty.

In response, he enveloped you in a comforting embrace of a soft, white robe, shielding your exposed skin from the cool air.

"And why would you think that?" His question hung in the room, probing deeper into your insecurities.

As his actions of tonight seemed to have spoken louder than words, a glimmer of reassurance began to emerge within you. With tender care, he guided you across the room, revealing the spacious bathroom with its welcoming, steam-filled air. The drawn bath exuded an enticing warmth, a stark contrast to the chilly room.

"I want you to be mine. If you will have me," he murmured, his voice resonating with earnestness, echoing the genuine desire for your acceptance.

You turned to meet his gaze, observing the hand clasped in yours before lifting your eyes to his captivating, unique red gaze. There was a captivating allure, something undeniably beautiful and different about him.

Your attempt to decipher his unreadable expression failed as his stoic visage remained unchanged. Yet, those enigmatic eyes held a magnetic pull, drawing you in. "Will you take care of me, Thrawn?" you asked, your voice carrying a vulnerable plea.

"I will do everything in my power for you," he assured you.

The moment lingered, and finally, your lips met his in a tender, gentle kiss. He guided you towards the inviting warmth of the bath, easing your weary body into the scorching water, allowing the tension to dissipate.

"Your face is like art," he suddenly declared, catching you off guard once more. His words prompted a staggered breath, causing you to look up at him as he admired you.

"Do you not agree?" His question tinged your cheeks with doubt and embarrassment.

"I've never viewed myself like that before,"

“I’m sure you will begin to find that you will agree with me for most things,” he drops the robe from his body and gestures you to sit forward and as you do, you sigh heavenly as he slips in behind you, arms wrapping around your body as your back is brought to his chest.

"And soon you will agree and see why you belong with me," he murmured, his voice carrying a sense of quiet assurance as he tenderly ran warm water up and down your arms, creating a serene atmosphere enveloping both of you in a comfortable moment.

His tender care continued as he focused on you, his lips trailing softly over the marks he had left on your neck. Whispered words of praise graced your skin, creating a delicate symphony of affectionate gestures, each touch and utterance a testament to his adoration for you.

Later that night as you grew tired, he gently carried you back to his bed and settled beside you, drifting off to sleep, the weight of your actions pressed heavily on your mind. The realisation dawned that this relationship would be far from ordinary. He held power, wealth—everything beyond your reach but he was offering it to you. a fundamental shift, a leap into an entirely different world.

Maybe, just maybe, this unexpected turn could be the shift you had been waiting for your entire life.

———

Masterlist

Tags: @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 7 @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @raevulsix @mssbridgerton @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder r @mysticalgalaxysalad

#nahoney22 writes #thrawn x reader #grand admiral thrawn #Thrawn x female reader #admiral thrawn x reader #star wars #grand admiral Thrawn x reader

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saradika · 4 months

Text

STAR WARS - 2023 FIC RECS

this year has been filled with so many beautiful fics, I wanted to make a rec list to share & support everything I read. please check these out and support these creators, they are all incredible! 💖✨

ANAKIN/VADER X F!READER

— Breathe Me In by @moonlight-prose

the jedi fell and darth vader rose to power, but there’s a secret he hides even from his own master.

— When Midnight Calls by @ladyxskywalker

anakin steps into the refresher, noticing how you left the door open for him, the steam filling the room inside from the misty hot water.

AXE WOVES X F!READER

— The Lady and the Merc by @flightlessangelwings

“The pleasure,” the leader took your hand, but instead of shaking it, he brought it up to his lips and kissed the back of it tenderly, “Is all mine,” he gave you a wink as you felt your skin burn under his touch, “And call me Axe Woves.”

BRASSO X F!READER

— Steadfast by @uwingdispatch

He pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead before pulling back to look at you in that way only he could, with those bright eyes. “I think we should stay,” he said.

BOBA FETT X F!READER

— Be With Me by @imarvelatthestars

"It's late," he says.

— Boba Fett is in Love With You by @janghoefett

He’s known for some time now.

— Ex Libris by @daimyosprincess

There's much to be learned from the handsome professor Boba Fett, both about yourself and your pleasure.

— Kinktober Day Five: Virginity by @sinfulsalutations

You’ve never felt this small before.

— No Mercy by @daimyosprincess

Fennec Shand is many things, markswoman, assassin, the daimyo’s right hand, but merciful is not one of them. That's why she's the only one Boba Fett trusts to take care of you when he's away.

— Sound Asleep by @moodymisty

You swore you hadn’t had a nightmare since your childhood years; But even then, you couldn’t remember one like this.

— Small Favors by @daimyosprincess

The day Boba Fett called you a hellion, you were pretty certain it altered your brain chemistry.

— The App by @maybege

The App tells you who your perfect match is. But when Josh, your perfect-match-alpha, introduces you to his boss, you start to realise that the numbers are not always right.

DARTH MAUL X F!READER

— Dread by @bits-and-babs

a strange creature visits your dreams, promising to satiate a yearning body he heard call to him across the force. | incubus!maul

— Serenity by @eloquentmoon

lord maul interrupts your nighttime stroll in the woods

ELIA KANE X F!READER

— Eat Your Young by @imarvelatthestars

It's the way she looks at you that does you in, the blatant hunger that glints in Elia's eyes, the knowledge that she always has you just within reach and that you'll always fall for her time and again.

GALEN ERSO X READER

— I Didn't Know The Time by @ladyxskywalker

an unseasonable rain causes an unexpected shift in your new year’s plans, but, as it turns out, both of you wouldn’t have it any other way

GRAND ADMIRAL THRAWN X F!READER

— Amuse Bouche by @bits-and-babs

A state dinner leaves the Grand Admiral wanting far more than was offered.

— Show of Good Faith by @bits-and-babs

grand admiral thrawn has a unconventional way of convincing neighbouring planets to pledge allegiance to the empire.

KINO LOY X F!READER

— I Want You to Show Me Weak by @tarabyte3

You're pretty sure Kino Loy hates you. He screams at you, grabs you, and shoves you against the wall, and it's becoming a problem because, well...it shouldn't fluster you as much as it does.

— Ownership of Mine by @amywritesthings

The Empire has integrated their prison systems, with you as one of the few women now incarcerated at Narkina 5. The unit manager takes you under his wing – but for reasons you didn’t anticipate.

OBI-WAN X F!READER

— Dust to Dust by @avarkriss

A generous gift bestowed upon a very pretty desert hermit

—Kinktober Day 5: Table Sex by @flightlessangelwings

“You wished to see me, Lord Kenobi?” you asked from the doorway to his office where you stood at attention.

— Serve My Worries Away by @friskynotebook

In which Obi-Wan gets in a fight with a printer and the printer wins.

— Sweetend Craving by @moonlight-prose

“he’d want the last thing he ever heard to be the sound of you tipping over the edge, falling into a bliss you both craved.”

— What’s The Harm? by @obixwan

Quinlan set Obi-Wan up with a friend and now, Obi-Wan can’t help himself.

POE DAMERON X GN!READER

— Because You Left by @againstacecilia

“What happened? With us?” / “We just… Grew apart. That’s all.” / “No, I don’t think that’s it. Not entirely.”

THE CLONES X F!READER

— Better Than The Universe by @sinfulsalutations

Rex enjoys the mindlessly affection-filled morning he deserves

— Kinktober Day 15 by @samspenandsword

Overstimulation with Daddy Rebels!Rex

— Keep In The Heat by @sinfulsalutations

Wrecker is cold. His girl knows a solution

— Return To Sender by @keravnos-kori

halla has been alone for the past three years. as it turns out, relocating to coruscant and attending a prestigious university hasn’t been as glamorous as she originally expected - but when a new opportunity comes along for her to prove the republic’s injustices committed against clone troopers, she might get more than she bargained for when the power structure suddenly collapses and is replaced by something far more sinister…

— Strategies in Fliration by @floral-force

When you take a risk and join your friends for a night out, a handsome stranger sets his eyes on you. You boldly approach him and ask him what war tactics he has in his arsenal. | captain rex

— Sweet Thing by @starrylothcat

Wrecker has a crush on you, a local sweet shop owner. Will he find the courage to ask you out?

— Some Rex and Relaxation by @daimyosprincess

After a hard week, Rex makes it his mission to see that you forget all about it.

— The Coffee Shop by @samspenandsword

You own a coffee house on Coruscant famed for its especially strong and rare brews. One day, you find yourself meeting the Marshal Commander for the Coruscant Guard.

if you haven’t read these, you need to! and please support these amazing fics & writers by reading, reblogging & commenting! 💕

#fan fic recs #fic recs #please support these creators!#boba fett x reader #captain rex x reader #obi wan x reader #darth maul x reader

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vibratingskull · 7 months

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Hello! 👋 I have a request if you don't mind. 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 Thrawn x f!reader reunion sex. F!reader was with Morgan, Bylan, Shin, and Sabine in finding Thrawn cause that's her man and she misses him and when they reunite, they have passionate alone time together 😏

Mmmmmmmmh 😋 smexy times with Thrawn, you have such good tastes anon. Plus Lars interpretation is DOING THINGS to me 😩🥵

Thrawnxf!reader

tag : reunion sex, cunnilingus, p in v sex, she/her reader and a bit of fluff

“What was first just a dream has become a frightening reality for those who may oppose us.” He casually says, closing the gap between him and the group with his signature smirk.

You straighten your back, gulping, your heart beating at 100 miles per hour.

Finally.

After ten years.

You can see him in all his glory.

Thrawn…

Your heart screams to throw yourself at him, everyone be damned, but it is a bad idea. None of them are aware of your relationship with Thrawn, you took great care in hiding that from them. This info is too sensitive to be known by anyone. Morgan would have tried to get rid of you if she knew, her thirst for power and glory pushing her to follow and obey Thrawn in all matters, but she’s not without deviances and you don’t trust her enough, Thrawn didn’t trust her enough either to reveal your relationship to her back in the Empire.

But you, you know her.

She always struck you as an odd choice for Thrawn to take as a protégé… She always lacked the genius he saw in Vanto and Faro, maybe it’s her undying loyalty that resembles obsession that pleased him? You doubt it. He surely only took her under his wings to know more about the Force and fight the jedis more efficiently.

“Great mothers, I salute you. Soon we should all escape this exile thanks to the help of Morgan Elsbeth.”

Oh that voice… so soft and melodic like in your memories. How much you yearned to hear it again. It makes you want to run into his arms and hug him tightly, to jump in his embrace and kiss him deeply.

But that would be stupidly dangerous. Elsbeth is too savage and you don’t feel those… Great Mothers. Something tells you they are the kind to exploit any weakness.

The discussion continues while your eyes remain on your man, your treasure, your cha’cah… He’s old. He seems tired and weary, his uniform is patched up. The weight of years really makes itself felt despite his haughty demeanor.

But to you he’s never been so handsome.

Nothing could compare to him and the moment of your reunion.

This instant is magic, timeless. A fairy tale. You feel light bubbles in your stomach. But you have one lingering fear…

“And you are?” he asks Baylan, clasping his hand behind his back as you remember him doing.

“Mercenaries” Morgan explains “Baylan Skoll, and his apprentice Shin Hati.” She presents them, they bow lightly to him, remaining humble. “And (Y/n)(F/n), but I think you already know her.”

You take a step forward and bow respectfully to him, a sour taste in your mouth. What if his sentiment faded during this ten years exile? What if he found comfort in the arms of one of his stormtroopers? What if you’re just too old for him now?

You look into his eyes as you raise back your head, he glares back at you with a light grin.

“I do remember. We used to work closely to defeat the enemy of the Empire together.”

“Indeed, Grand Admiral.” You nod humbly.

Oh to be close, you were close. As close as you can be. He takes his time to gauge you up and down with his little grin before turning back to Baylan.

“Then you must be General Baylan Skoll, of the Jedi order.”

----------------------------------------------------

You're fidgeting your fingers, laying on the bed.

You can’t sleep.

You’re well awake under the covers, eyes fixated on the stone ceiling of the cold room, mulling over your situation.

You find him! A hunt of ten years just ended, and you hoped for… more? Just after finishing the presentations Thrawn and Morgan locked themself in a room to strategize your next moves. Baylan, Shin and you were left arms dangling without anything to do. You tried to access the Chimaera to visit your old room but the captain, Enoch, stopped you and escorted you back to the stone citadel without a word.

You’re not welcome in the Chimaera anymore it seems.

Are your fears correct?

Did he find someone else?

You sigh deeply, turning in the cover again.You try not to think too much about it, you wished you could ask him for an explanation but each time you tried to enter the room a soldier stopped you. And you don’t think he would have appreciated to be disturbed in his brainstorming session for heart matters.

You bite your lips, feeling tears building behind your eyes. Even after ten years that still hurts like hell. You hoped for an explosive reunion, but you got a nod and a grin before getting ignored and relegated to a goon status. If only you could just cross path with him in the corridors, just one discussion to clear the air and know your situation for certain, if only-

You hear knocks at your door.

You raise your head. It’s almost 3am, who would come at this hour?

“Coming!” You shout, praying for it not to be Enoch with bad news.

You open your door to Thrawn, hands behind his back, and a serious gaze.

“Oh…” That’s all you can say, you thought he was already sleeping.

Apparently the session with Morgan only ended moments ago.

“May I enter?” he politely asks.

You step to the side, signaling him your permission. He enters slowly, like he’s discovering the room. You close the door and cross your arms, as much to protect you from the cold than to protect yourself from what he could throw at you.

“Is something wrong?” you ask, a little anxious.

He spins on himself, turning to you.

“Nothing is wrong, dear. Nothing has ever been this brighter in ten years.”

You smile a bit, nodding.

“Yeah, I guess finally seeing your rescue group must lift a heavy weight off your shoulders.”

“It is true. But I was not referring to that.” he counters. “Approach.”

You tilt your head, walking toward him. He extends his hand to you and you take it, wondering what he wants. He inspects your left hand and a smile graces his lips.

“You are still wearing your wedding ring.” you think you hear some relief in his tone but you can’t be sure.

“Yes. I kept it for all those years.” you admit.

“Does it still have value in your eyes?” he asks suddenly.

“What do you mean?” you frown.

“Your ring. Does it still hold any meaning to your heart?” he demands with gleaming eyes.

After a hesitation you nod.

“Yes. Yes it does.”

He looks into your eyes, as to see if you were lying and sighs of relief.

“You ease my heart.” he takes his left hand from behind his back into your hand, revealing his own ring “I kept mine too. It reminded me of you everyday.” He kisses your hand reverently.

You observe his ring on his finger, feeling your heart dilating with relief.

He didn’t forget you…

“Thank Maker.” you whisper, closing your eyes.

“Cha’cah.” you reopen your eyes, feeling his warm palms on your cheek “I am blissful to see you. I missed you terribly.”

“I missed you too.” you throw yourself in his arms, circling him tightly.

He squeezes you against his heart, kissing the top of your head.

“I am here, cha’cah. And I am not going anywhere this time.”

You raise your gaze to meet his, full of hope.

“You promise?” you hear your voice crack “I already lost you once, I won’t survive losing you a second time.”

“I promise cha’cah. From now on we will remain together, fight together, rule together…” he tries to appease you.

“I don’t care about ruling anybody, it’s you that I want!” You bury yourself against him, digging your nails in the fabric of his white uniform like he would evaporate. You don’t care about any powers, all you came here for is to bring him home, you will think about power after.

“You are right as always. I am sorry. This is the most important.” He murmurs as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, deeply inhaling your scent.

He looms over you with his height, shielding you with his large shoulders. You start hearing a faint purr as he breathes in your musk.

“You smell lovely.” he finally says after a minute of silence.

“Yeah right!” you giggle “I’m sweaty and there aren't any showers here.”

“Well it is lovely nonetheless.” He inhales again with a growl of satisfaction “It is doing things to me…” he sighs deeply satisfied.

He starts kissing your exposed neck as you chuckle.

“Doing things to you? What happened to my unshakable Grand Admiral?”

“Maybe the unshakable Grand Admiral would like to revel in your delights.” he says lowly, pushing you gently against a wall.

You’re pressed between the cold stone and the large wall that is his chest, he kisses your neck, your jaw, stops to devour you with his red gaze and finally kisses your lips. You close your eyes to savor it, opening your mouth to let him enter. His tongue passes past your lips to hug and dance with yours. You moan against his soft lips, indulging yourself in the languorous kiss. His purr grows louder, a hand in your hair to press your lips against his, his other hand snakes its way in your back to pull your body against his. You circle his shoulders with your arm, a hand passing in his hair, dishevelling him. The kiss became heavy and feverish, his hands sliding under your shirt, caressing your bare skin with his warm palm. You part with him to start unbuttoning his jacket with haste, barely containing your desire to simply tear it apart to gain access to his body. Thrawn chuckles darkly.

“I do not remember you so hasty.”

“We didn’t have 10 years to compensate.” you counter, you wince because a stupid button refuses to open.

He kisses your forehead tenderly and opens it for you, taking his sweet time deliberately.

“I don’t wanna play tonight.” you say between a plea and an order.

“You are right, this is cruel of me.”

He finishes to open his jacket at a more acceptable pace and take it off, leaving himself in his signature black tank top.

“Maker, your taste in fashion hasn't evolved in ten years.” you giggle.

He sighs and tackles your feet. You yelp in surprise, losing your balance but he catches you with expert hands and carries you bridal style to your basic bed. He lays you down, looming over you like a predator and kisses you again, pulling your shirt over your breast and sliding your bra under it to expose your sensitive tits. He lapps them avidly, licks across the mount and sucks them like he would gulp down a treat, groping them with his large warm hands. You whimper and arch your back under his ministrations, how right does it feel to feel him on you again…

He kisses your tit and passes to the other, giving it the same treatment while massaging the first one. Your breath gets stuck in your throat and you feel your pussy starting to leak with your slick and soaking your undergarment. You want his lips and hands everywhere on you at the same time, you want to feel the weight of his body on yours, pining you into place, you want him deep inside you.

“Hurry… Please hurry…” you whimper as his tongue works on your nipple.

“No.'' He berates you gently “I have been deprived of you for so long, let me enjoy it as I please.” He slowly trails his way down your stomach with his tongue, leaving a trail of fresh saliva from your breast to your tummy. He reaches the hem of your pants and takes a good lick at your venus mons with the flat of his tongue. He kisses it swiftly and opens your pants with deft hands.

“First, let me indulge myself in my favorite treat.” he says with a short breath, a rare visible sign of his excitement.

You try to raise your bust on your elbow to have a better view when he slides your panties to the side to gain access to your wet cunny. He blows on it lightly, letting the cold hair hit your sensitive bud. You whine, your pussy demanding attention urgently. He chuckles and kisses your pussy lips before taking a fat sloppy lick with the flat of his tongue. You throw your head backward with a moan as he licks and laps you thoroughly, he focuses on your clit, sucking it and flicking his tongue, giving it extra intention, eating you out as good as you remember him doing. Maker, in ten years he didn’t lose his touch, you feel yourself getting wetter and wetter. He looks straight into your eyes as he does it, unashamed, growling like a carnivore feasting on its prey. You inadvertently squeeze his head in the spasm of your thighs, his large hands come part them wide open to give him better access. You flush deeply, taking shallow breath you feel yourself trembling terribly as pleasure waves spread through your veins. He continues to tease you like a hungry man, unbothered by your trembling limbs locking his head in its place. The waves grow furious and you come on his face. You let yourself fall on the mattress, tired and ashamed.

“I’m sorry…” you whine between two gasps.

“Never apologize for that. It is exactly what I wanted and you delivered splendidly.” he purrs, working his tongue on your fold. Drinking your slick, he parts your folds and enters you and tonguefuck you thoroughly, darting and caressing your gummy spot so deliciously.

You didn’t know any other man during those ten years, you stayed faithful to him and rarely took the matter in your own hands because you were so busy working to get him back. Those ten years of abstinence got you so sensitive that one orgasm already took a toll on your delicate pussy. You grip his hair and face, trying to pull him off you but he doesn’t budge, remaining firmly in place.

“Thrawn… please…” you try.

��That is it. Call my name cha’cah, do not hesitate to scream it as you cum.” he coos, his swollen lips working on yours all puffy and soft.

You try to wiggle out of his grip but he holds down your hips firmly with a growl of disapprobation, warning you to never deprive him of your cunny. He purposely makes the most obscenes sounds to get you hot and bothered, to let you know that it is because of you he behaves like a rabid animal in heat, that he tossed both of your dignities to indulge in the sinful pleasures of the flesh. You moan under his skillful tongue, you are hypersensitive and already sore, how could you take another orgasm without shattering in a million pieces? Your pussy clench painfully over his tongue, you feel your muscles gorging themself with hot blood and puffing up.

“I missed that pussy.” He groans “You have no idea how much. Ten years without it was torture.”

“It… It wasn’t funny without you either.” you breathe.

“We will make up for it tonight, cha’cah. Do not worry about that.”

Oh you don’t worry about that, you worry about your spasming cunt. You feel your heart beating at max speed, ready to spring out of your ribcage. You feel your own blood beat furiously down in your core.

You come again, a powerful orgasm that tenses up all your muscles. You squirt in his mouth as you land on the mattress with a “oof”.

“Prodigious, cha’cah! You have done it!” He praises you, you can hear the warmth and the satisfaction in his voice and deep purr as he licks his lips hungrily. Thrawn adorns a smug smirk of making you cum two times. He kisses your clit and looms over you again, kissing you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

He places himself between your legs, raising up on his knees to take off his shirt and open his pants. You wearily push yourself in a sitting position to get rid of all your clothes sticky and full of sweat. You help him with his pants, seeing the bulge in the tight fabric. It must be painful for him, you think. He frees his erection and you take it in your hand, stroking it lazily and kissing its head. You lick his blue girth from the base to the tip, peppering kisses here and there. He inhales deeply, his head back, caressing your cheek. you take him in your mouth and circle his crown with your tongue. It is warm and heavy in your mouth, it makes you drool. You taste the saltiness of his pre-cum. You start bobbing your head when he gently pulls you off. You look at him without understanding, pouting like a child who just got denied a tasty candy.

“What you are doing with your mouth is delightful, cha’cah. But I want my cock inside your pussy as soon as possible.” He rasps.

You open your eyes wide.

In your pussy? No way.

You’re already so sore, he can’t be serious.

“Thrawn…” you whine “I can’t take another one…”

He gently pushes you back on the mattress, following you with a smirk.

“Of course you can, cha’cah. You are a big girl, you can take it and more. I trust you.” he licks and kisses your neck, weighing heavy on your more petite figure. You feel so safe under his warm, hot body.

He circles your waist with his arms and rolls on the side, pulling you on top of him.

“Ride me, my love. Take control.” He instructs.

You feel his dick poking at the plumpness of your ass, hard as a rock. You cry, your legs are already trembling, you don’t know if you can even ride him properly. You sigh and tiredly raise from your laying position to grasp him and align him with your sex. You ease yourself slowly on him, opening your mouth round at the full sensation.

Maker, he’s big! You forgot how much.

You’re stuffed to the brim, you can’t take more. His hands come caressing your waist to ease your muscles.

“You are doing great, cha’cah. Ride me as you please, what you want I will give.” He praises you.

You rise up and go down slowly, letting your slick act as a lubricant and it’s hardly a luxury given his girth. You breathe deeply through your nose and continue to ride him slowly, making circling motion with your hips. He can reach every spot with ease, you feel his tip brushing your cervix, deep inside you. You moan his name pathetically, your legs are barely working and you have difficulty raising your own weight on his shaft.

“Maker, were you always so tight?” he gasps with gleaming eyes.

You ride him sloppily as best you can, with Thrawn seizing your waist to help your motion, caressing you with his thumbs. He starts rutting into you delicately, but you can feel his eagerness bubbling under his skin. Despite that he respects the pace you choose.

When you reach the end of your rope you fall on him, gasping for air. He hugs you tight, kissing the top of your head while rutting deep inside you, one hand between your two bodies to caress your clit. You can’t move anymore, you really should work on your stamina, you think with a tired smile, letting him work. Your sore pussy is stretched to the max, your pussylips are all swollen and your abused clit is all puffy and nervous. You feel your inner muscle working to welcome his cock deep inside you, so much you feel waves in your stomach. His veiny shaft stretches you deliciously.

“Can I take the lead?” He softly asks.

You nod with a mumble, exhausted.

He makes you roll swiftly, getting on top of you again and installs a breakneck pace all of the sudden. He knocks the air out of your lungs, hitting your cervix with ease.

“Ha! Thrawn!” You manage to speak between two powerful thrusts.

“Hold on to me, cha’cah.” He indicates, panting, pressing himself against you and merely suffocating you.

Your head hits the headboard repeatedly, as you hold on to Thrawn for dear life. The scent of sex and his musk makes your head spin and the obscene noises of flesh hitting flesh resonate in the bedroom in an obsessing fashion. You gasp and mewls and whimper and sob, digging your nails in his large shoulders, his imposing figure shielding you completely. You let your gaze travel south and see how his cock disappears inside your body, a creamy O at the base of his shaft.

He rolls his hips like a jackhammer, pushing you into the mattress like it was nothing. You fear the bed will break, it’s clearly not made to bear such activities.

“It is so good, cha’cah. It is better than in my memories. Is it good for you too?” he asks, biting your lower lips.

“Yes, yes, yes…” you can only chant.

He plunges into you with force, at this point you’re more of a fleshlight he uses than an active participant. But you’re so exhausted, and the pleasure you feel is so great it stiffen your limbs, preventing you from moving. You feel your poor pussy getting abused, hit repeatedly by his mighty hips.

Despite his age, he really still got it.

It transports you back in time, with your younger self making love all night long, with him nuzzling against you, begging for another round while you just layed barely moving from exhaustion. In some way it is still the same, your older self just lasted less time.

You feel your pussy clenching on his cock again, and you just know you completely soaked up the sheets. You feel your slick and his pre-cum leaking of your cunny, running along your tight ass.

He holds your cheek tenderly and kisses you feverishly, muffling your mewls with his soft lips. His tongue comes to hug yours, languidly.

You cry his name as you cum again, seeing stars behind your closed eyes, tensing around his dick like it is trying to hold it deep inside, he kisses your cheek, purring loudly, clearly satisfied by his work.

His hips start jerking and moving erratically until he freezes, completely contracted, spurting long hot ribbons of seed in you. Your pussy milks him dry for all his worth.

He peppers your face with kisses, as you try to get back your breath.

“Can I remain inside? I want to enjoy you as long as I can.” he whispers in your ear.

You slowly nod, repressing a yawn.

He slides on the side, hugging you tight. You snuggle against him, your head against his beating heart.

“It was grandiose, was it not, cha’cah?” he kisses your forehead “I could go for another round if you wish?”

You hide your face in his chest with a pathetic whine.

“Alright.” He chuckles, “as you wish, my love."

You remain silent for long minutes, only listening to each other breathing. You draw circle on his wide chest with the tip of your finger before taking the floor.

"You're gonna find it stupid, but I was afraid you'd find someone else." You let out.

"Nobody could have taken your place, you are unique in my heart." Thrawn whispers back.

"Yet when Enoch refused me access to the Chimaera I thought our time was over." You turn your head to meet his gaze.

His hand comes grazing your cheek.

"I had to do… reforms to keep my troops alive. It was not against you. I will warn Enoch to give you free access to the ship first thing in the morning." He comforts you.

You pull the cover a bit over the both of you, thinking.

"I don't like Morgan." you let out "I don't trust her."

"Me neither. But she is a necessary evil to my plans."

"Necessary to the point of isolating yourself with her for hours?"

He gives you a sidelong glance with a smirk.

"Did you become jealous during those ten years?" he asks, amused.

"Yes, terribly. I want to know what you do with her." you demand.

"We simply planned our next campaign. I would like your opinion on some moves tomorrow, I trust your strategic abilities more than hers." He boops your nose and you wince exaggeratedly.

You remember the long hours you used to spend together, strategizing carefully each move, he asked your advices regularly, taking your opinions and suggestions very seriously despite his genius. You ended up sleeping at your desk several time but he would carry you to your shared bed and hug you tight... Those were simpler, nicer times.

You smile, looking in his magnificent red eyes.

"I love you, Thrawn." you murmur, eyes heavy with sleep.

"I love you, Ch'acah." He kisses your forehead "Sleep well."

@thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar @thrawnspetgoose @bluechiss

#thrawn x reader #thrawn x f!reader #thrawn x you #thrawn #grand admiral thrawn #mitth’raw’nuruodo #fanfic #vibratingskull #thrawn smut

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thrawns-baddie · 2 months

Text

Appreciation

pairing: Thrawn x f!reader word count: 1.9k words warnings: E (18+ only) - oral (fem receiving), postpartum depression, body dysmorphia, body worship summary: Weeks after having your baby, you struggle with how your body has changed since pregnancy; Thrawn takes it into his own hands to help you feel more comfortable in your own body.

You turn from the mirror as your heart clenched, tears forming. It had been eight weeks since you gave birth to your son, and your body still looked like it had been through a war. Stretch marks snaked up the loose skin of your stomach; instantly, the tears flowed over as your fingers traced the marks. The deep valleys were a constant reminder of how you had failed.

You had always been so vigilant of your health, kept fit, and always ate well. This remained so even while you were pregnant; you constantly monitored your health to provide well for the little boy growing in you. You walked daily up and down the corridors of the Chimeara to keep up with your exercise regimen. Toward the end of your pregnancy, you did all the recommended stretches and exercises for easy labor.

But your body had failed you.

And failed your husband.

The sobbing continued as a soft knock on the door separated the refresher, and your quarters startled you, causing you to scramble to put your shirt back on and collect yourself.

“Ch’acah?” the melodious voice asked from the other side. You wiped your tears away and turned away from the mirror.

“Yes, you can come in.” The door slid open, and your husband appeared. His crimson gaze was concerned, and his face worried. “Is he okay?” you asked, trying to get him not to be focused on your well-being for the moment.

“Yes,” Thrawn breathed as he took a step in. “He fell asleep the moment I laid him in the crib. Are you alright?” His brow raised. “I heard crying,”

“Yes, I am fine; it's just hormones.” You comment. Thrawn reached out to touch you, but you shied away from him, too ashamed to have such a man touch you. His face twisted into hurt the moment you moved away from him.

“This is not hormones, ch’acah; this is something else,” He paused and reached out to touch you again; this time, you allowed him to touch your upper arms. “Did someone say something? Did the doctor–” You waved your hand to tell him to stop his worrying before you moved to place your hand on his forearm.

“No, it is more something wrong with myself.” You say lowly. “I wish to not worry you about this.” His fingers moved to cup your chin, pulling your gaze to meet his glowing gaze.

“Please tell me, this time is tough for both parents, but from what I’ve read, it seems to affect the mother more.” He paused and moved to cup your cheek. “So please enlighten me, my love, why have you been crying?”

You look into his gaze lovingly and sigh. He was everything you could have dreamed of, so why did you feel like this? Thrawn was a fantastic man, respectful, courteous, and so patient. He was not like other men you had dated; others had been judgemental and so concerned about their images that you had developed a consciousness for how you presented yourself while in public that drew out the deepest insecurities into your mind.

On the other hand, Thrawn had tried for many years to help you feel confident in your skin even if you did not feel that way. He showered you with compliments and adornments for the simplest things. Things others would chastise you for.

You swallowed hard. “I’m worried you think I look,” your throat worked as the word struggled to come out of your lips. Your eyes begin flowing over again before looking down at your feet. “Damaged.”

Thrawn was silent momentarily, then picked your face up to look him in the eyes. A fire in those crimson eyes made you melt at any given moment, but at this moment, it was the mere mention of the word angering him you knew.

“Who told you that?” he growled out, his grip on your chin tightening. The tears still flowed. “Tell me who disgraced you so I may rectify the situation.”

“No one,” You choked out. “I just feel like I failed you.” you breathed through the tears.

“And why on earth do you feel that way?” His glowing gaze softened as he moved to caress your soft cheek. You sighed, and the tears subsided slightly as your mind struggled to combine all the thoughts running through your head. Maker! This was your husband. He would understand better than anyone; why did you hesitate to tell him?

“I do not look like how I did when we first met; I have dark circles, saggy skin, and stretch marks deeper than the canyons of Tatooine.” You feel the sobs starting again. “I should have taken better care of myself, watched what I ate more, maybe even not started breastfeeding,” A smile rose on Thrawn’s lips as you looked up at him. His brow raised.

“I respectfully disagree, ch’acah,” he began. His thumb moved to wipe the tears from underneath your eyes. “You are even more beautiful than when I met you; you grew our son there.” His hand moved to run across your stomach, fanning out to cup the bump in your shirt still. “Molded him and made him in our image. You sacrificed everything to bring him into this world, and,” he moved to push some of your hair behind your ear, opening up your face to him. “In my humble opinion, it made you even more beautiful and desirable to me.” You felt your face warm considerably as his arms wrapped around you and brought you into his chest, encasing you in his warmer embrace. His head lowered, and his warm, soft lips met yours, bringing the tears and sobs to a silence. Your heart was hammering in your chest as you felt the love pouring into this kiss.

You were the luckiest woman in the galaxy, and Thrawn reminded you of that every moment he got.

Thrawn deepened the kiss as his fingers traveled down your back until he got to your bottom, where he gripped and hoisted you into the air. You wrapped your legs around his hips as your arms wrapped around his neck.

He turned and carried you from the refresher toward the warm, inviting bed where he laid you back—only releasing his lips from yours for you to let out a little giggle from your lips.

His lips move down the column of your neck. A whimper escaped your lips as his hand ran underneath the oversized shirt. “Undress for me,” he breathed. You grip the end of the shirt and pull it over your head, revealing your post-partum body to your adoring husband. “So I may see my sweet wife in all her glory,” Your face warmed again as his lips moved down your chest, over your engorged breasts—a hiss living your lips as he touched the sensitive skin of your nipples, traveling down toward the planes and valleys of your stomach. His lips worshipped every inch of the scared skin there.

Your core turned as his hand traveled down in synchronous with his lips, his touch against your needy core bringing a heavy moan from your lips. “Let me show you just how beautiful you are, cheo been’i.” You nod as his index finger makes a pass through your folds, your brain whiting out as you feel the sensitivity building. The ache to be filled by the man who gave you a new life and all the comforts that you could only dream of. “You gave me the greatest gift any man could ever want,”

Thrawn pulled his finger away from your folds and moved to grip your thighs tightly, spreading your legs and pulling you to the edge of the bed as he moved to kneel there. Those crimson eyes blazing as he took you in, a predatory smile filling his lips as he showed you those inhuman pearly whites.

You swallowed hard. “I know it is still too early for you to take me fully and comfortably. Will this fulfill your desire, my love?” The power in his gaze drew you to bite down on your lip hard as you gazed at your adoring husband.

“Yes,” you let out, labored as he gripped down on your thighs a little tighter. The sheer grip was almost too much to bear as your arousal built inside your core. You fought the urge to raise your hips to his lips so those beautiful, talented lips could take you to another plane of existence.

But you knew if you did that, he would probably scold you for being too impatient and give you a hurt look because you did not want to let him bestow you with the adornments that you felt like you did not deserve.

“Patience,” he breathed, leaning down to your thigh. His teeth grazed against the skin there, and you felt the muscle tense at the sheer sharpness of his teeth against the skin. “I wish to add to the beautiful artwork on your skin, ch’acah; I wish to leave my marks.”

You take in a sharp breath as you feel his teeth sink into your skin; the pain is instant but turns into pleasure as his teeth sink into the flesh. He was serious about this, and you could do nothing but moan against the sheer sensitivity of the bite.

“Thrawn,” you whimpered as he released you and now turned to make his way towards your swollen folds. Your arousal caused his nostrils to flare as he took it in.

“Easy, cheo been’i,” he breathed at just the entrance of your swollen lips. “Easy,” His lips hovered for a moment more, and you fought the urge to look down at him to ensure he was still there. That was until you felt his lips connect with your core and begin the tantalizing pace that made your toes curl.

Thrawn’s pace was slow and building as his tongue danced inside of you, his finger moving to rub against your sensitive bud, drawing you into heavy moans and whimpers as your thighs tightened around his head. Your legs draped over his shoulders as your fingers moved to run through his cobalt strands, gripping down tightly as he picked up pace. The action draws a purr from his lips and causes a vibration to rip through your sensitive core.

Your core swelled as his finger on your bud quickened, and the pace grew as you felt your release pooling there. The swells and swallows of it built more as your fingers tightened in his hair, your thighs holding him there, not caring if he needed to come up for air, just that you wanted to feel the full effect of this release.

The floodgates opened in one more twist of your bud, and the numbing sensation washed over your mind and traveled down to your toes. A heavy moan and call of his name told him you had reached your climax, and he squeezed your thigh as he felt the pulsing of your cunt and muscles, reminding you that he did need to breathe still.

You quickly released him from your tight grasp, and he came up gasping for air. A smile on his lips, though, he licked his lips, tasting your release on his lips.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed between your gaspings for air.

“It is okay, that informed me you enjoyed it,” he leaned down to kiss your thigh softly. “And I’m glad you did. Do you feel better?” You take a moment to think about your answer, and a sly smile fills your lips when you get the answer to his question.

“I may be persuaded with more incentive,” A dark smile filled his lips as his eyes grew in a bright gleam.

“Then your wish is my command, my lady,”

#thrawn x reader #thrawn x f!reader #thrawn x you #thrawn #mitth'raw'nuruodo #sw fic

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al-astakbar · 4 months

Text

> title ☆ Where Silence Is Their Only Refuge

> summary ☆ The night before checking into your new unit, you meet a masked stranger at a bar who can't keep his eyes off you.

> pairing ☆ Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader ☆ word count [4.2k] ☆ warnings ☆ anal sex; leg riding; dirty talk; one night stand; clothed male, naked female (the mask stays ON)

> posted on ao3

a/n: i know i'm a thrawn blog but i had to get this out of my system

The first thing you notice is him.

You clock him right away, first because he’s wearing a mask— a ridiculous black balaclava printed to look like a skull on the part that covers his nose and mouth and Covid is over so what is he even doing? He’s sitting at the far end of the bar. He has his hood up and a tumbler of whisky in front of him— and second, you can’t not notice how big he is. He’s hunched over, but that doesn’t really hide it, doesn’t do much to diminish the breadth of his chest and shoulders.

You take a seat, order for yourself. Just need to relax, and this bar, the Green Door, is the perfect place to do that. It’s decorated like a speakeasy, and it’s busy, but not so crowded as to be claustrophobic. And it’s far enough from the base that you can come in here and not expect anyone to pay you much attention.

Except for him.

No one pays you any attention except for him.

You force a quick smile when you first look up to find him staring at you, figuring it’s just one of those awkward accidental eye contact moments. He probably came here to relax and people watch, like you did. To enjoy being alone in a crowd. But the second time you catch him, you’re in the midst of struggling your jacket off. His gaze fixes on you, holds yours intently even after you notice his interest, and you could swear his eyes flick down minutely to your tits, straining your shirt as you try to free your arms from your sleeves.

A blush creeps up your neck -- not just because of the alcohol -- and interest takes hold and digs its claws into you. There’s black smudged all around his eyes. In fact, every inch of his skin is covered in some way. He’s even wearing gloves.

You should just dismiss him as a weirdo. He obviously doesn’t want to be bothered.

But for some reason you can’t stop looking over at him. You can tell yourself all you want that it’s simple curiosity.

Despite everything else there is to look at in this bar-- the ornate wood paneling, the old framed photos, the bottles of liquor on display, all the other people -- every circuit your gaze takes over the crowd ends at him.

You shift in your seat, crossing and then recrossing your legs because suddenly you feel warm.

He gets up once to go to the restroom and you notice how tall he is. He threads through the high top tables, never quite touching anyone despite his broad shoulders. He moves gracefully, confidently. Like a predator.

Somehow, in over an hour and a half of sneaking glances, you never once see him take a sip of his drink. You can see that it’s emptying slowly. He orders another and that one gradually disappears too.

Intrigue pulls at you, and below it, an undercurrent of desire.

Who is he? You could leave with him. To your hotel room, or wherever he lives. It would be quick and hard and anonymous and exactly what you need. As soon as you allow yourself that one possibility, it’s like a switch flips and then you can’t stop thinking about pulling off his mask and kissing him. What it would feel like to be pinned under him, how big his hands would be on your waist--

He looks up, like he can feel the weight of your gaze on him, and there’s a glint in his eyes, like he can see every lurid fantasy racing through your mind.

You quickly busy yourself looking at nothing on your phone.

Eventually, the five seats between you and him are all empty. A group of friends comes in and one of the girls asks you if you would mind moving so they could all sit together. No problem. You get up and they all sit down and then there’s only one seat left. The one next to the masked man.

You almost don’t take it. Your drink is just melting ice at this point, and it’s getting late. You could just head back to your hotel room— you know you should, it’ll be an early morning for you tomorrow— but the draw is too strong.

You look up as you pull the stool out, and find him staring right back. You give him a tight smile, suddenly flustered as you put your glass down on the bar. You don’t know why you brought it with you.

“Sorry,” you say to him. “They all wanted to sit together.”

“‘s’alright.”

He’s British. That piques your interest even more. British means he almost certainly doesn’t work at the base, you’d have no risk of an awkward run-in when you check in with the unit tomorrow. Another reason you’d chosen this bar.

He nods to your empty glass. “Buy you another one, doll?”

His voice makes you melt. It’s low and gravelly, hoarse like he’s spent long stretches in silence with no one to talk to. And it makes his offer of a drink seem like a much better idea than it actually is. “Um. Sure. Thanks.”

He flags down the bartender and orders a double bourbon for himself. “And for the lady…?” He prompts you.

“The same, please.” And why… “‘doll’?” You question the unusual term of endearment.

He looks you up and down, then shrugs his massive shoulders as if to prove his point. “You’re a little thing, aren’t you.”

You raise your glass to him once it’s placed in front of you. Maybe now you’ll actually get to see a glimpse of his face. “Thanks.” You repeat. He smells good, like freshly-milled lumber, strangely, and leather polish and gun oil and just a hint of floral shampoo.

He raises his glass too, and this close, you see his eyes are brown, verging on hazel. Framed by light lashes. Very pretty.

Blushing. You’re blushing so hard and he doesn’t miss it. He clinks with you, and peels up the bottom edge of his mask-- god, his hands are big-- and drinks. His jaw is strong, his lips not too full. He might have scars, but you can’t quite tell in the dim lighting.

You look away quickly, feeling as though you’ve intruded on a private moment that wasn’t meant for you. You try to think of something to start a conversation. Anything, even as banal as -- “are you from around here?”

“No. You?”

“No.”

Beyond that, you don’t exchange two words.

Sitting shoulder to shoulder with him, it’s even more evident how much bigger he is than you. Taller, broader. His baggy zip-up hoodie does little to conceal the bulk of his arms and back, and his legs-- fuck, his legs-- his legs are powerful and long, he’s got his knees jammed up against the bar.

You can feel the tension he’s holding. Maybe he can’t think of anything to say either. Too quickly, you finish the drink he bought you, sitting with him in silence, your heart beating hard.

“Well. Thanks for the drink.” You’re about to get up, and you wish you weren’t leaving alone. Something about this man makes your blood run hot, and all you’ve done is make eye contact and sit next to him. You hesitate, gathering your jacket and purse, the words on the tip of your tongue, until they come tumbling out and you can’t quite believe you actually say it. “I’m staying near here, it’s not too far.” Your eyes meet his. The meaning is clear.

He slugs back the rest of his drink and tosses some bills on the bar. “Lead the way, then.”

He’s on you the moment the door closes. He seems to be able to read exactly what you want, and is even more enthusiastic to give it to you. To hear your breath hitch, to feel your nails scrape across his back, to see pleasure written across your face.

He slips one arm around your waist, his other hand at your hip. The closer he pulls you to him, the smaller and more delicate you feel, and it’s intoxicating.

He’s already hard. You can feel the ridge of his erection, hot and straining against your stomach through layers of clothes.

“That’s what I get for staring at you all night,” he rumbles.

“And if I hadn’t sat next to you?”

He rasps a laugh. “Would’ve gone home alone and imagined it was you while I fucked my hand.”

You bite back a moan at the image. Of this man, needy and desperate, making himself come apart. He buries his still-masked face against your neck and gives a low, appreciative sound when he feels you open your legs wider so he can slot his knee between them.

He’s so big. He has you up against the wall, nearly lifted off your feet as he tightens his grip on your waist. “That’s it, doll,” he urges you to grind on his thigh but you can’t get much leverage. You wrap your arms around his broad, muscled shoulders and he picks you up with one arm, carries you over to the couch. He lets himself fall backwards on it with you on top of him.

You brace your hands on his chest, just needing to feel him. Needing-- you hesitate, wanting to reach for his mask, searching his pretty, blond-lashed eyes for permission before you try anything.

“Nah. It’s not coming off.” He says, quiet but firm.

You nod, then lean down and press your lips softly to where you think his mouth is. Too bad. You’d really wanted to kiss him. His hand plays at the hem of your shirt, and you get the message, quickly stripping it off along with your bra, too turned on and eager for him to be coy or shy about any of this. Next, your pants and underwear, which requires briefly standing up and all at once you’re completely bare in front of him, and he still has his gloves on.

He pats his leg, a wicked gleam in his eyes. The bulge in his trousers is even more pronounced now. You straddle him again, cupping his length through the fabric and he groans and rips off his gloves like he can’t stand not to touch you directly. He has rough, callused hands that he doesn’t apologize for, but his bare skin on yours sears your nerves, makes you grind your naked cunt down on his thigh.

“You’re fucking gorgeous, you know that?”

“I do, actually. But you can tell me again if you want.”

That gets a low chuckle. “Cheeky.”

Every little bit of vulnerability you give him, he rewards twofold. He kneads your hip and thigh as you start to ride his leg, urging you to take what you need. With his other hand he’s palming himself through his trousers, rubbing slowly, clearly enjoying the show you’re putting on. When you reach down to play with your clit, his gaze follows, and he watches intently as you show him how you like it. But after a moment he catches your wrist, easily encircling it in his much larger hand.

“What--?” You were just getting in a rhythm. You resist him, trying to pull away, but he tightens his grip, enough to warn you that he could take whatever he wanted, if he felt like it.

“None of that yet. Want to see you cum just on my leg. Can you do that for me?”

A powerful shock of need pulses through you, and you find yourself nodding because fuck, you’d do anything he asked right now.

You reposition slightly for a better angle, it puts your breasts right in his face and he kisses them, masked. His breath is hot through the cloth. You start to roll your hips, you’re so slick and shaking and needy and wild. All focused on him, on the point where your bodies touch.

“There’s a good girl.” His eyes and his tone soften, an intense mix of tender and feral.

You’re not sure if you are, but you want to hear him say it again all the same. “I’m leaving a wet spot on your pants.”

“I know, I can feel you soaking through. Making a mess.” He gives a low hum of a growl-- something about how you smell bloody divine-- and then he’s practically tearing open his button and fly to free his cock.

He shoves down the material more, gets his balls out too, and you swear your mouth starts watering. He’s hard, and thick, all heavy and flushed with arousal.

And it hits you all at once. The feeling like you’re spinning, unstable, everything out of control and shifting, all stemming from your insatiable need for each other, wedded with the reassurance that you’re safe right here. You’re safe with him.

“You should fuck me in the ass.” You blurt out.

The man’s eyes snap to yours. Then he nods slowly, his hand rubbing over the plump curve of your hip. “One look at my cock and you decide you want it up your arse.” He laughs, a low, rough sound.

“If you don’t want to, I mean--”

“I do.” His fingers quest along the cleft of your ass, just firm enough not to tickle, then they dip in, brush over your rim. “Fuck, I do. Keep going, doll. Just need to get you ready.” You hear the click of a bottle. Lube. He must have brought it with him. And you feel the cool, viscous sensation there on your skin, trickling down, followed by his warm fingers. Very gently, they start to massage your hole. Just the outside. No hurry at all. You brace yourself with one hand on his chest, looking him straight in the eyes. Can’t tear yourself away, and he meets you there, equally entranced. You can tell his lips are parted beneath his mask.

He presses one in, just a little, testing you.

You grip fistfuls of his hoodie, because it feels so, so good but it’s tight, your muscles gripping hard. “It’s-- ah-- it’s been a while.”

“We’ll go slow.”

He’s watching you closely, gauging your expressions. He’s careful. He works his finger past the first knuckle. Pushes it in, pulls it out. All gentle and slow and slick.

Arousal superheats your skin, all from the intense sensation of his finger there, stimulating all those nerve endings, and the continuous, rocking pressure against your clit. He bounces his leg a little when you go still.

“You know what you like.” He says it with warm praise, arousal making his voice hoarse. “Yeah. You just-- you just keep rubbing that pretty little cunt on my leg, I can feel you, how wet you are. Keep yourself busy while I get your tight arse ready for my cock.”

His length twitches when he pushes a second finger into you and you moan. It twitches when you roll your hips against his thigh. He loves feeling the heat of you.

Shivers of impending pleasure ripple over your skin. When you start to cum, he doesn’t let you bury your face in his shoulder, though you try. He needs to see you. His free hand comes to cradle the back of your neck, tangles in your hair, and every time you start to drift, he pulls you back with a firm grip. His eyes lock with yours. There’s precum leaking steadily from his tip. His breathing is ragged and his hips jerk up involuntarily when he feels you start to clench around him. “That’s it, doll,” he repeats, encouragement in the filthiest terms spills from his lips, and he pumps his fingers into you urging your hips down, harder.

Any lingering doubts, any last shreds of self consciousness are swept aside from the way he looks at you. You hold his gaze as long as you can, even as your climax begins to wash over you, until it’s too much-- his fingers in you making it that much more intense-- and your mouth parts in a lurid moan as it pulls you under.

Your eyes slip closed. You hear yourself, and him, almost in awe, muttering oh, fuck as it takes you and sweeps you away and you’re whimpering, shuddering, all at his mercy.

He settles you against his broad chest as you come down. He tucks your head under his chin, pets your hair. His fingers are still -- in you. Another spasm goes through you, a wave of residual pleasure that feels almost too much. He starts to pull them out but you clench down hard, involuntarily. So he doesn’t. He pumps them in and out. Lazy. Slow.

You sigh. “I know what I like,” you repeat back to him, and the reality of it solidifies. You do know what you like, and have for a while, and it’s not anything to be embarrassed about, no need to hide. This man seems more than happy to help you with it and for a terrifying moment you think you’ll never want to let him out of this room.

“That you do,” he agrees.

You nuzzle into his neck, your next words muffled. “Please don’t stop.”

“Alright. But we’ve got to turn you over.”

Once he helps you onto your stomach -- legs wide, doll, wider, that’s it -- he adds more lube and begins again, stroking and massaging your rim with the same fingers he’d used before, letting them catch at your rim, slip in. Out. Again.

Two go in easily enough, and deep, he pushes them in to the second knuckle so you feel the rest of his hand there, and then he’s on to a third. This one isn’t easy. His hand is big, his fingers are big. But there’s no way you’ll be able to take his cock if you can’t manage this and you desperately want his cock. Want to feel him splitting you open, want to feel his weight on top of you and he pushes in, every last inch.

“You’ve got three now,” he says, his voice strained with desire. “Tell me how it feels.”

Amazing. Every push and pull sends a new pulse of arousal to your clit. Everything you can’t put into words, so you have to just say: “really--unnh-- really good. Big.”

“My cock’s bigger.” He pumps his three fingers in, slick, stretching your straining hole. “Fuck, I’m so fucking hard.” Looking out the corner of your eye, you see him stroking himself.

“Please…”

“Ready for more?”

His fingers retreat— movement— swiftly he’s up, over you, bringing your hips to his— then the blunt head of his cock touches your hole.

You stay as still as you can, you’re as open and relaxed for him as you can be, and there is still that sweet, agonizing pressure of the first inch of his thick, hard shaft pushing past the tight ring of muscle.

The room is mostly silent, broken only by his groan of satisfaction as he sinks into you. He has his hand on your lower back to steady you. To ground himself, too, and to feel how your back tenses with each small movement. He likes how he can feel you trembling with the effort of taking him, he likes seeing your ass stretched wider and wider around his cock, probably the biggest you’ve ever taken.

Slowly, patiently, he overcomes your body’s reluctance, though your lust-clouded mind has already raced far ahead of you; several times you push back to meet him, too eager, and it stings and he has to stop you, has to go still himself, keep himself under control and not just slam his hips forward.

“Give us a moment, yeah? You’re so… bloody tight.”

You spread your legs further, but the pressure doesn’t abate, the man keeps rocking his hips shallowly, penetrating you deeper, opening you inch by aching inch, until his hips meet your ass and his heavy balls are pressed against your dripping, empty cunt.

And then he starts to really fuck you. He rolls his hips, sending through you a sweet pang that makes your clit pulse, over-sensitive, still, from before.

God, he’s going to wreck you.

He feels huge inside you. Overwhelming and terrifying and— intimate. He lays his body over yours, presses his masked mouth to your neck, and you hear all his quiet moans and gasps that would otherwise be lost if he weren’t so close. He slips his arm underneath you and pulls you more upright, bringing your back to his chest. His hand covers your breast, rolling one nipple between his fingers, a little too hard, he wants that reaction from you, that little whimper at the jolt of pain, the way it makes you clamp down on him. He has his arm like a bar across your ribs, holding you to him, while his other hand ghosts down your stomach, finds your clit. Circles, then he curls two fingers into your swollen pussy and you see stars.

“I can feel you getting even wetter, the more of my cock you take,” he says. “Fuck, you’re perfect.”

You can’t manage anything coherent, only gasps -- soft and rhythmic as he thrusts into you, his movements from behind pressing your mound to his palm.

All you can do is grip his forearms, cling to him for dear life. Pleasure coils again in your core and you can’t do anything to resist it, or him. That spiraling feeling hits you again, that this-- whatever it is-- feels so right, so natural. He fucks you like he knows you, like you’ve known each other for years, and it skews you off-axis because it can’t be right, you don’t even know his name--

Faster-- he rocks his fingers in and out of you, hitting your g-spot, rubbing your clit, his fat cock deep in your ass -- all combining into a sublime, mind-blanking ache.

He possesses you utterly. Every sense, every thought, every breath.

Everything you do seems to enthrall him. He has only praise for you, though it’s all filth and delivered in a low, breathy growl. How you feel fucking incredible, your pussy so dripping wet, all from taking his cock, you take it so well, doll, come on, now, don’t hold back, want to feel you cum with my cock in your arse, that’s all you have to do--

Your hole is hot, slick, open as he reams you. At your center, a wave swells. Each slide and clench makes you feel it, makes your nipples tighten, your ass and pussy both squeezing helplessly with every stroke of his cock.

He chases those spasms, drilling you deep and hard.

And he finally relinquishes what’s left of his self control. His hips snap to yours. The room is filled with ragged moans and the sound of his balls slapping wet and heavy against your pussy. Rough, wild thrusts make his girth feel unbearably massive. Pleasure gathers fast and deep like a tide, surging up, your entire body saturated with it and you’re crying out, nails raking down any part of him you can touch.

This man-- this intimidating, masked giant of a stranger-- moans loudly as your climax tumbles him over the edge in your wake.

“Oh --” he’s breathing hard, his words bitten back, helpless, “-- oh fuck.”

Your legs shake as you ride it, still clenching and throbbing around his fingers and his cock. He spills, his hips jerking, cock twitching and flexing, filling you with sticky heat. He pumps his cum into you, slowing, filling, overflowing. You feel it slick and leaking. Down your ass and thighs and his balls even before he pulls out.

He doesn’t stay long after. He fetches a wash cloth and warm water to clean up. There’s still a damp spot on his pants, which you feel oddly pleased about.

You catch an odd gleam in his eyes when he’s looking at your naked, sated body spread out on the couch,

Lust, heat, pride accompanied by something like tenderness or longing, but you must be imagining that part.

He kneels down next to you to put his gloves back on and you reach out, a little dazed, to play with the zip on his hoodie. His expression shifts to warning in an instant. Careful. Not the mask, not the hoodie. You pout. It feels like you’d barely gotten to touch him. His left sleeve rides up and you glimpse black ink. A sleeve tattoo, though you can’t make out the design.

Will you ever see him again? You study what you can see of him, trying to commit a faceless man to memory. His eyes, you’re sure you’d recognize. The mask, definitely. His hard-used, callused hands that suggest work as a laborer or something else outdoors. The breadth of his shoulders, his back, his height, his legs. There’s an assured swagger in the way he walks, you’d recognize that too, he carries himself like he knows exactly how big and strong he is and he has no qualms about using it to his advantage.

As intrigued as you are, you doubt taking off his mask would reveal anything more than his face. He seems like someone who keeps secrets about the simplest things, and maintains them in distance and silence.

You sigh, and your onsetting disappointment must show because he cups your jaw, brushes his thumb over your lips.

“Chin up, eh? Maybe we’ll run into each other again. Would be a shame not to taste your pussy.”

You blush, but can’t help smiling. Then he’s up, out the door. Gone.

You’d never even exchanged names.

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