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al-astakbar · 10 months

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☆ Fair Winds and Following Seas -- Thrawn x reader ☆

> title ☆ Fair Winds and Following Seas

> summary ☆ In a loosely-controlled experiment, Grand Admiral Thrawn decides to dose you with a powerful aphrodisiac and makes you go about your day as usual. This is a direct follow up to Good and Faithful Service, I suggest reading that first.

> pairing ☆ Thrawn x reader ☆ word count [6.9k] ☆ warnings ☆ aphrodisiacs; mildly dubious consent; masturbation; cunnilingus; Thrawn eats ass (very brief); PIV sex; power dynamics & imbalance; fraternization; angsty at the end

> posted on ao3 ☆

You can’t have expected anything to change with you and Thrawn. Not really. It had been one night. You had offered your help before he had ordered you to give it. Even when he’d had you on your back, even with his cock in your mouth, neither of you had put aside your ranks. You were still ‘Lieutenant’, and he was still the Grand Admiral. He was still Sir.

Except now you keep slipping. Months on, you find yourself unable to focus on much of anything. Distracted in meetings, forgetting things, neglecting the most basic military decorum.

The Grand Admiral is perhaps more lenient than most senior officers, but he is only forgiving to a point.

So when he comms you an hour earlier than normal one morning, you’re nervous. It could be a reprimand. It could be some worse, harsher punishment. He could be planning to dismiss you, have you reassigned. Between dismissal and punishment, you feel crazy for hoping it’s the latter. The thought of having to leave him, the thought that he has no use for you anymore… you mentally shake yourself. Totally inappropriate way for a junior officer to feel about her commander. You’re his aide, nothing more, nothing less.

You quickly change out of your pt clothes into the uniform of the day, and hurry up to his office, which is a couple decks above your stateroom. You press the chime to let him know you’re outside, and then he remotely keys the hatch to open for you.

Inside, his office is almost pitch black.

“Enter.” His voice calls from somewhere in the dark. You can’t pinpoint it.

You step inside, and the hatch zips shut behind you.

“Good morning, sir. Lieutenant--” you stumble over your own name, just barely managing not to yelp in surprise when you suddenly see a pair of glowing red eyes open, just a few feet away from you “-- reporting as ordered.”

“Good morning, Lieutenant,” he says smoothly. He brings up the lights without offering any comment on why he’d had them off in the first place. Strange. He hadn’t said anything about the incident with the Nevow. Not one thing. At first you’d figured he was determined to act like everything was normal, just pretend it hadn’t happened. But just as you’ve been slipping, he’s had some odd moments as well.

He gestures to the seating area where he usually entertains senior staff or high ranking visitors. There is an elegant silver caf service laid out on the low table.

You gratefully accept the cup of caf he pours and then passes to you. You sit awkwardly, perched on the edge of the chair with rigid posture, while he sits back, regarding you thoughtfully.

“Thank you for coming early. Did I interrupt your morning exercise?”

“Uh… of course, sir. And I had been just about to start. You know, unit pt down in the aft shuttle maintenance bay.” You gulp down your caf, noticing that it’s making you feel quite warm, especially in the usual chill of his office. “You started a droid-sparring trend, sir. I don’t know if you knew that.” With any other officer, this would be much too familiar. Too friendly.

The Grand Admiral just says, “indeed?”

“Yes, sir.” You finish your cup, and he pours you a second. “Thank you,” you murmur.

He sips his own, watching you with a strange glint in his eyes. Not unlike the way he had looked at you all those months ago in that hot, confined room. Your face heats at the memory, and you drink again to cover your blush.

Not for the first time, you wonder if you should be the one to request a transfer. You can’t control yourself around him. Even now, just sitting here having caf, and you’re getting turned on just from the way he looks at you. Suddenly your collar feels too tight. The temperature of his office, so cold you normally have to clench your jaw to keep your teeth from chattering-- too warm. Some time ago, you had finally given in to your fantasies, and allowed yourself to imagine him while you masturbate. It had felt so, so wrong, a violation of his trust in you, a violation of your relationship as junior and senior officers. But it hadn’t stopped you. And it isn’t the same as the real thing. You stare down at your cup, thankful that, perceptive as he is, he can’t actually read your mind.

“Lieutenant?”

You look up. “Yes, sir?”

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, sir.” You nod quickly, blushing even harder.

You’re sure he can tell that you’re lying, but he doesn’t remark on it. He lets you fidget for a moment, and then changes topic.

“Today, you will help me conduct an experiment.”

You sit up straighter, reaching for your datapad to take notes, but he stops you.

“That will not be necessary. You will be the subject, and I will… observe you.”

That was intentional. That suggestive twist he put on the phrase, the way his voice went low and soft, like he knew how it would send a shiver of arousal up your spine. You swallow hard. “Of course, I’ll do whatever is required of me, sir.”

Grand Admiral Thrawn almost smiles. You both know his authority over you begins and ends with military matters, and you’re pretty sure whatever this is falls well outside of those boundaries. “Thank you, Lieutenant. Now, allow me to explain. I have put some of the galvi root in the caf you just drank. I had to guess at the dosage, but am I correct that it has already begun to take effect?”

You nod tightly, head spinning at this revelation, though in hindsight you should have expected something like this from him.

“I see… it has affected you more quickly, then.”

“Are you-- are you sure?” At his slight frown, you continue quickly. “I think you may not have noticed it right away because you had the distraction of the ceremony. Sir.”

The Grand Admiral leans back, tapping the arm of his chair. “Yes. Yes, I believe you are right.” He pauses, and gives you an appraising look that makes you squirm.

“You could have asked me!” You finally say, a little testy.

“And you would have agreed to it, would you not?”

You nod again, flustered at how easily he can read you. As to why you would agree to it so readily— you’d rather not risk exposing your embarrassing crush on him by arguing the point.

“Therefore my asking beforehand would be unnecessary.”

You very nearly glare at him. Not like it would be the first line crossed today in terms of what’s acceptable between a junior and senior officer. Instead, you say, “I hadn’t factored in the time for this in today’s schedule, sir. If you need me to--”

“Not to worry, Lieutenant. You will accompany me for the entire day. I have arranged for your colleagues to cover your other responsibilities. As part of the experiment, we need to test how well you are able to perform your daily routine, or at least an approximation of it.”

You aren’t sure how to argue about this, if you even should, because the idea of it seems ridiculous. After all, he had been totally incapacitated by the drug within two hours and now he expects you to just go about your day. Will you be allowed any privacy? Will you be allowed relief?

He seems to be contemplating the same questions. What he says next makes you bite back a gasp and you nearly drop your cup. “Recall: you sucked my cock and I came in your mouth.”

This is the first time since that he’s directly acknowledged it, and he says it so calmly but the shock of hearing those words in his cool, modulated voice sends a visceral pulse of desire through your body. You shift, trying to hold yourself still. Can’t keep your hands from shaking. With a rattling clink, you put your cup and saucer on the table.

At that, Thrawn continues, “-- but the effects of the drug were not lessened. It was alleviated, very briefly, but then only grew stronger. It was the same when I masturbated. That is what we will test today. And your ability to withstand it.”

You have no idea what to say, other than a weak ‘yes, sir.’

For a few more minutes, the two of you sit quietly. Thrawn finishes his caf and you think on what he’s just said. Recall, was his order. How can you not? You’ve thought about it every day for months. How he had tasted, how he’d fucked you. How he had sounded when he’d come that last time, a low, almost feral growl as he’d pushed deep inside of you.

Then he checks his chrono, and it’s time to go. Nearly 0700. He’ll be expected on the bridge for the morning report.

He stands, and at the last second, you remember to do the same. Not a good sign. Protocol dictates you stand at attention whenever the commanding officer enters or leaves the room. The Grand Admiral is usually rather lax about such niceties, but if you let the little things slide, it’s only a matter of time before you make a mistake that he would deem significant.

You follow Grand Admiral Thrawn to the first task of the morning, the familiar route through the passageways up to the bridge feeling much longer than normal. This is fine, you try to reassure yourself. You do this with him every day. And it’s possible the aphrodisiac doesn’t even affect humans the way it had affected him. After all, your hosts all those months ago could have dosed you, too, but didn’t. Maybe they had known it wouldn’t really work. But-- no.

You’re here, now, at his elbow on the command walkway, already failing your duties. You’re supposed to be paying attention, and taking any notes he might need. Instead, you’re sweating. You can feel a trickle of it down your back, and where it’s beading in your hairline.

Commodore Faro grimaces at you, and makes some comment about droid-sparring for pt getting out of control. You apologize to her, a hurried ‘sorry, ma’am’, and then excuse yourself because the Grand Admiral has made that vague gesture with his hand that means he has something for you to do.

But all he wants is for you to come stand by his side. Throughout the morning and the rest of the day, he insists on keeping you close, and the proximity only makes your desire flare hotter. The way he smells, and his tall, broad-shouldered frame, and the way his arm sometimes brushes against yours. His long-fingered hands, which, though he’s wearing his white gloves right now, you can still picture so clearly, blue against your skin.

You take your seat at his right hand in the morning meeting, only to fidget and shift the whole time. Every so often, he gives you the side eye, so you will yourself to stop, to be still, control yourself.

He leans over, commenting quietly for only you to hear, that your core temperature is elevated. His voice maddeningly calm as always. Raising one eyebrow at you, almost a challenge. Ask for what you need, Lieutenant.

You need him. You need his cock, you need to feel him again, don’t give a damn if it’s fraternization and every other officer in the room would see your life ruined-- both you and Thrawn-- if they knew you’re even having these thoughts. You need him to bend you over the conference table and fuck you until you can’t walk.

At last, he stands, dismissing everyone from the meeting. Except you. You check your chrono, and it takes you a moment to read it. You feel delirious, every sense flooded with overwhelming arousal. Every nerve charged.

“Forty-five minutes, Lieutenant.” The Grand Admiral’s cool, soft voice washes over you. You have to close your eyes against it. Against what it does to your fraying self control. Officers of the Galactic Imperial Navy do not think about dropping to their knees and begging their commander to make them cum.

“Until? Sir?” You only get the formality in as a force of habit.

“Since.”

Your eyes snap to his. “Since?”

He tilts his head, studying you. His gaze sweeps down your body, his lips part slightly. There’s that hunger you had seen before, when he had been the one whose desires were laid bare by the drug. “Since you took the dose.”

Your heart drops. “That’s it?!” You blurt out, and he raises an eyebrow at your unprofessionalism. “Sorry, sir. I…” You hesitate, “I’m just going to the ‘fresher real quick before our next meeting.”

“No.”

You freeze in your tracks. “Sir?”

“I have not excused you, Lieutenant. And I assume your purpose in going is to be able to masturbate in private?”

You stare at him, mortified, and unable to answer.

He tilts his head slightly. “Interesting.”

“What?”

“I have never seen a human produce so much facial heat before.”

You huff, and close your eyes briefly. “Sir, I… I can’t do this. Could I just be excused for the day until it wears off? I’ll just tell Medical I ate something weird that I bought at the last port call.”

“Perhaps you misunderstand, Lieutenant. I am permitting you to masturbate. But you will do it here.”

It clicks in your mind. Observe.

You lick your lips, and meet his eyes once more for confirmation. He lets his gaze sweep down and back up, positively indecent. It makes your pulse spike, knowing that he’s thinking about you like that.

Too fast, too eager, you pull up your tunic, unbuckle your belt and shove your pants down just enough.

“More,” Thrawn orders. He points rather lazily to your legs, and how they aren’t spread wide enough for him to see much. You obey, and then fall back into the chair, bare from hips to ankles. Thrawn is close. He stands right in front of you, regarding you with imperious authority.

The effect of the drug is powerful enough to dampen some of your embarrassment, but you are still sitting here, legs spread wide for your commanding officer. Anyone could walk in.

“Do you need more specific directions, Lieutenant?” He asks dryly.

“No, sir.” You reach your hand down and find you’re already slick and wanting. Wet enough to be fucked, your mind supplies unhelpfully, but you know he won’t give that to you. You start circling your clit, can’t stop yourself from whimpering in relief. Plunge one finger in, but it’s not enough, so you work in a second. It feels good, so good. The drug has its claws in you now, some primal force coaxing you faster, faster -- if you can just take the edge off. None of it is enough. You rub your clit, and push your fingers in as deep as you can, curling them to that perfect spot. Your climax is almost too easy to find, right there within reach--

“Look at me.”

Your eyes fly open. Your breath hitches --“y-yes. Yes, sir,” -- and you’re coming, hard and fast. You can feel your inner walls fluttering around your fingers, and you chase the feeling as long as you can, touching a bright, fleeting pleasure that has you moaning wantonly.

But the drug steals away any true satisfaction. Makes it shallow, and over too soon, and leaves a tight, twisting need in your core, verging on pain.

“Did it help?” He echoes your question from months ago, but you both already know the answer.

It made it worse. You shake your head and quickly make yourself decent. You’re about to wipe your hands on your trousers when he catches your wrist-- the hand that you’d fucked yourself with-- and licks one of your fingers. Then he sucks both of them fully in his mouth with a sinful hmm. As if he’s been waiting for his chance to taste you.

You give a shuddering whimper. Again, you have to close your eyes against the sight of him, against the feeling of his mouth and tongue. Against everything.

When he’s done, he wipes your face and hands with a handkerchief. He gives you a once-over, and straightens your rank plaque himself. Once you’re deemed presentable, he leads the way to the next meeting.

He keeps finding little ways to touch you, and you’re sure it’s on purpose. Even his hand on your shoulder makes you have to refocus your self control, exhale as the warmth of his touch makes you ache with need. After the Ops brief, he leans in close and picks a possibly nonexistent piece of lint off your tunic.

By 0930, he hasn’t allowed you to masturbate again, and you’re a wreck. “Sir…” you sway on your feet, distantly pondering the consequences if you were to simply disobey him, and sneak off to a ‘fresher. Or you could jump a random officer, get him to fuck the drug out of you for a few hours. Or… you gaze at Thrawn, not bothering to try to conceal your lust…

He regards you dispassionately.

“Sir, please…”

“Would you ever have asked me for it, Lieutenant?” His authority, his very presence seems to fill the now-empty executive conference room. “I’ve been wondering if you would. I did promise you a dose. You never added the time for it to my schedule.”

You swallow hard, not quite trusting yourself to speak coherently. “You already have so much on your plate, sir. I didn’t want to overburden you.” You know it sounds like a lame excuse.

Evidently, he thinks so too. “I see.” He brushes a strand of hair off your face, tucks it behind your ear.

You shiver at the contact, at how cool his hand feels next to your burning skin.

It’s gone all too soon. He turns away and you dutifully follow along, wondering if your lie had just cost you a chance at relief.

You endure another couple hours or so-- you only know the time because Thrawn keeps reminding you. But as the minutes tick by you feel more and more delirious, and occasional spasms of pain start to wrack your body. Somehow you manage to stay on your feet, standing at his elbow as he conducts a walkthrough inspection of the ship’s TIE Defender maintenance shop. After that, you accompany him for a brief break in the senior officers’ mess, and have to watch him as he calmly sips his caf while you squirm in the seat next to him. He makes conversation with a few other officers, but you can’t focus on anything they’re saying. Every thought you have is of him. Every impulse, the heat between your thighs, urging you, screaming at you to throw yourself at him, to bend over so he can mount you, or better yet you could ride him. Straddle him, brace your hands on his chest, feel his powerful, long legs flexing as he pumps up into you.

He glances over at you just once, and raises his eyebrow, as if he knows exactly what you’re thinking.

The next meeting, you get through by white-knuckling the conference table and crossing your legs very tightly. Desire burns in you like a fever, narrows your awareness to just your body and the undeniable, agonizing need the drug has stoked in you.

You stand at attention with everyone else when Thrawn gets up and dismisses the meeting. And once again, you’re alone with him.

He fixes you with a dangerous look, a curious gleam in his glowing red eyes. He seems almost… entertained.

“Sir, please, I… I need to…” You shouldn’t speak first, typically. Junior officers don’t talk this way to their betters, but nothing about this is typical.

“Truly remarkable,” Thrawn says softly. “The power of this drug, and your resistance to it. You’ve done very well so far, but I fear it may harm you.”

He begins pulling his right glove off, finger by finger. Your pulse jumps in your chest. “Take off your boots.”

You barely pause to question it, though worry rattles in the back of your mind. What if someone comes in? Won’t there be another meeting in here soon? Thrawn isn’t worried. Perhaps doesn’t care.

He approaches, backing you up to the large conference table. When you come up on the edge of it, he lifts you by your waist and sits you up on it. With swift, deft movements, he undoes your belt and strips you of your trousers. He slots himself between your bare legs and you hear yourself panting. Pushing your hips closer to him, needing to rut and grind. Without asking, you reach a hand down, eager to touch your clit. He stops you, catches your wrist and you actually whine with disappointment.

He ignores this, looking down at you contemplatively, and it registers then, just how close you are, how you’d dreamed of this for months and now you’re close enough to kiss him. “Please,” you try again. “I did it for you.”

“Yes,” he agrees. “But this is an experiment, not an exchange of favors.”

And with a fluid, graceful motion he gets on his knees and buries his face in your soaking pussy.

His lips immediately find the bud of your clit in a lewd, wet, open-mouthed kiss. A shuddering, throaty cry tears from your lips, and Thrawn only pauses to warn you to mind your screams. Someone could hear. At this moment, you can’t bring yourself to care. You both know the consequences were someone to walk in and see the Grand Admiral with his face between your legs. But he doesn’t take risks unless he’s confident in the odds. Or he’s just decided it’s worth it.

He lifts one of your legs over his shoulder. You can feel the cold metal of his epaulet digging into your skin. The change in position opens you to him. You fix the image in your mind, of Thrawn there between your legs. The contrast of his blue skin against yours, the alien ridges of his forehead, his lips and tongue lapping at your pussy like he’s never tasted anything better, his red eyes locked on you.

Without thinking, you put your hand on his head, stroking your fingers through his sleek, dark hair. Too intimate. Again, he catches your wrist, moves it away.

“Sorry,” you say. He doesn’t answer. He wraps his arm around your thigh, yanking you closer to his mouth, and then pushes one finger into you. More. The drug wants more. He works a second in easily and lets you ride them for a moment before pinning your hips down.

“Please fuck me.” You don’t care how desperate you sound. You’re already close, oversensitized from the drug and the hours of torturous denial.

“Not yet.”

“Why not? When?”

His eyes meet yours. “Questioning a superior officer?” He pauses, with a deliberate, slow lick of his tongue right over your clit. You nearly cry.

“Lieutenant?” He prompts you.

“N-no sir.” Your voice is breathy, broken. You can feel pleasure starting to roll over you in waves, your body responsive to every little touch.

He takes pity on you. Doesn’t tease or hold back or draw it out, at least not any more than he already has. Perhaps his way of saying thank you for what you did for him. Because you know him, as much as anyone can know Thrawn, and you know better than to expect to hear it.

The drug steals any more coherent thought, but Thrawn claims your pleasure. He is relentless, drinking it down, alternately suckling your clit and lapping at your folds with the broad flat of his tongue, his fingers reaching the perfect spot that yours couldn’t, that you haven’t been able to satisfy for months. He curls his fingers, and you’re gone, dissolving like sugar in his mouth. He lets you ride his face, keeps fucking his fingers into you as you moan and twitch, and squeeze your thighs around his ears. Again, the drug makes your release blaze bright and fast, but ultimately leaves you wanting.

At last, you sag backwards, legs wide, a wanton, debauched picture. Your tunic hangs open, and for a quiet moment you lie flat on the conference table where just minutes ago the Chimaera’s senior officers had gathered. Thrawn rises effortlessly, and when he does, you see his complexion is tinged indigo, and there is an obvious bulge in his trousers.

He’s watching you, taking in the sight of what he’s done, and you spread your legs wider. He licks his lips, eyes blazing.

“Now?” You ask hopefully.

His expression hardens, and he orders you to get dressed. He has to wipe off his mouth and chin, which are shiny with your arousal. Then, it’s back to the day’s schedule.

At least six more times, Thrawn decides to let you come, before you start to lose track completely. Rather than depriving you, he overloads you, flooding you with stimulation at every opportunity. He pulls you into a disused office, sits you up on the desk, and eats you out again. It shocks you each time he gets on his knees for you. He’ll smudge his white uniform and then everyone will know, they’ll see you together and know, Grand Admiral Thrawn is fucking his Lieutenant.

Following obediently after him from one part of the ship to another, you can feel how wet you are, your constant arousal dripping down your legs, you can feel your pussy slick as you walk. After the evening Intel brief, he backs you into a dark corner in a passageway, slips his hand down your pants and permits you to come on his fingers. There isn’t even the assurance of a hatch between the two of you and anyone who could come along, and yet you thrust and grind shamelessly against his hand, unable to keep quiet. He almost smiles when he tells you, really, Lieutenant, I expect you to at least attempt to control yourself. He kisses you, sealing his mouth over yours, swallowing down your keening cries. The one thought you can grasp, through the haze of lust, is that he’s achingly hard, pressing his erection against your hip as if he’s just barely holding back from touching himself.

Each climax tightens the drug’s feverish hold over you, and by the evening you can hardly stand for the desire boiling in your veins. Your uniform is a mess, rumpled and with an odd stain you hope is caf but you can’t remember how it happened. You imagine your face must be worse. Thrawn again straightens your rank plaque, and makes sure your cover isn’t askew.

His nearness makes you tremble.

He leads you back to the bridge once more for the evening report, and finally-- your heart leaps when you recognize the familiar path-- to his quarters.

The room is cold. Always cold, the way he likes it. You have wondered often what his home planet is like. Freezing, you assume. Somewhere icy and hospitable only to his people. You’ve wondered why he would ever leave it, when he so clearly doesn’t fit in here. The Empire has an ideal, and as brilliant as he is, Thrawn is not it.

He leaves you standing there in the center of his art collection, and dims the lights.

You wait for him as attentively as you can, though you’re shivering, standing at a tense parade rest.

After a stretch of silence he speaks. “Could you say ‘no’ right now, Lieutenant?” His voice is silky. His eyes seem to glow brighter in the dark. The sudden question puts you off balance.

“It-- it would depend on what’s being asked. Sir.”

“Imagine I were not your commanding officer, but a stranger. Or an enemy. And at this very moment, I am promising you relief from the effects of the drug, in exchange for classified information.” He circles behind you, and you turn to look at him but he stops you. “Eyes forward.”

Your pulse jumps, and you stand straighter at the command. A reminder of your rank, of your position, and Thrawn’s. “I would never do anything to compromise the Empire.” But your voice is too breathy to be convincing, and Thrawn steps closer, pressing himself against your back.

“But I’m offering.”

You make an inarticulate, desperate sound.

“Do you think you’d be able to refuse…?” He uses your given name, knowing exactly the effect it will have on you. The drug makes you dangerously suggestible.

“I would--” You understand his point. But there’s only one way to answer. “Yes, I would uphold my duty.”

“Your resolve is admirable. But I do not appreciate lies. Especially when they are so obvious.” He crowds you forward, so your hips hit the edge of his desk. The desk you’ve stood next to many times, attending to the Grand Admiral and whatever he asks of you. He puts a palm between your shoulders and forces you down face-first. His tone goes cold. “So I will allow you one more chance to answer. If I were anyone else, would you be able to control yourself?”

The only saving grace allowing you to reply at all is being able to hide your face in the crook of your arm, and not look him in the eye. “If it had been anyone else trapped in that room, I wouldn’t have offered in the first place.”

He stills. “I see.” Quietly, deliberately, he strips you of your service belt and your boots, pulls your trousers down to your calves. You whine in anticipation, shaking with need. It’s an effort not to lean in to every little touch.

You watch, fascinated, the scene in the dark, shadowy reflection of the transparisteel viewport. Behind you, Thrawn going to his knees. His hands opening your body to his inspection. Then, with no warning, his mouth is on your cunt again. His tongue licking hot and wet up your slit, one broad stroke, higher, no hesitation as his thumbs dig in to your flesh, holding you open and then he swirls his tongue around your asshole.

"Thrawn!" you squeal in surprise and embarrassment, completely forgetting his rank.

“Hmm.” He says. “You don’t like it?”

“I… ah…” You’re drooling on his desk. Like and dislike are beyond understanding. There is only need. You raise your hips, seeking contact. He gives it to you. He licks your hole again, flicking his tongue over and over until you’re panting, before he places his fingers there. He massages them gently around the sensitive, puckered skin, teasing you with penetration but never quite going in. You moan when you feel his tongue drag over your clit, reaching for the exquisite, building pressure, enslaved to the whims of the drug.

A day-- months’ of pent up need swells all at once and begins to overflow. Distantly, you hear yourself wail, feel yourself rocking against his face, no concept of anything except this sweet relief and him, between your legs, bestowing it upon you. At last, he pushes one finger in, and closes his lips around your clit, sucking slowly in time with your pulse, not stopping even as your legs shake. Your mind goes completely, divinely blank as pleasure sweeps over you, drowns everything else, wave after wave after wave…

It is a very different position in which you awaken, you don’t know how much later. You’re warm and cozy cocooned blankets, totally naked, in a stateroom you don’t recognize. It’s much bigger than yours.

Thrawn. You sit up with a jolt. It has to be his room. His bed. Turning, you bury your face in the pillow. It smells like him, though not strongly.

The galvi root has worn off. You only feel exhaustion, and uncertainty. Here, in Thrawn’s quarters, in his bed, a decision solidifies in your mind. You know what you have to ask him. Across the room, you see your uniform, neatly folded on an armchair. You ignore it. You lie back down, pulling his scent around you, and stay like that for a time, gazing out the viewport at the dark field of stars.

When you’re nearly asleep again, the hatch opens. Thrawn. You don’t know how to act around him anymore, which military courtesies to show him, but the idea of jumping out of his bed, naked, and coming to attention seems ridiculous.

“Did you get the data you needed?” Insofar as what you did today could be called an experiment, and a flawed one at that.

“I did.” He glances at your folded uniform on the chair, and comes around to stand at the side of the bed, his back to the viewport.

So many times you had dreamed of getting closer, of Thrawn letting you in. And now you’re going to distance yourself. “Sir, there’s something I need to--”

“I’m recommending you for promotion.” His tone is cold, his posture stiff and formal. Very much the Grand Admiral, and nothing of the man beneath, the glimpses you’d caught of sly humor, of tenderness, of want as strong as yours, kept under rigid control.

You sit up, blood rushing to your ears. He holds up a hand, and you fall silent.

“To Commander. You’ll serve as First Officer aboard the Imperial Star Destroyer Carnage.”

For a second, you’re too stunned to speak. Jumping ranks was almost unheard of-- Thrawn had done it, of course, multiple times, but your service record in the Imperial Navy is nothing like his. And First Officer aboard a Star Destroyer-- people worked their whole career to earn a position like that and he’s just handing it to you. “I’m not… that’s…”

“If you are going to protest that you’re not qualified, I’ll remind you that you have spent the better part of three years aboard this ship, serving by my side. You know the requirements and duties of an admiral and a Star Destroyer better than most, so you will be well-equipped to excel in the role of First Officer. As long as we are not in combat, you could probably run the ship in my absence. Or Commodore Faro’s, for that matter. I have complete faith in you.”

“Are you recommending me because of this? Because I slept with you?” You wince. It sounds so sordid and cliche. It wouldn’t be the first time ranks and promotions and choice assignments had been exchanged for favors.

He looks mildly surprised, as if it’s a question he hadn’t anticipated. “No. I already put in the recommendation a few weeks ago. It has nothing to do with our…” he pauses, showing rare discomfort “...association.”

You look down at your lap for a moment, chewing your lip, unsure what to say. A great emotion swells in your chest. You have to swallow it down. You aren’t sure whether it’s better that you didn’t have to ask for a transfer. “When?”

“Tomorrow.”

“The drug’s gone,” you tell him, as if he doesn’t know that. “I feel better now.”

He fixes you with a piercing stare. He is dark in silhouette in the unlit room, with only the starscape behind him.

You don’t want to leave. You don’t want to have some of your last experiences with the Grand Admiral tainted by something beyond your control. Feeling brazen and reckless, you let the covers fall, leaving your breasts exposed in the cold air. You look up at him, and lean back against his pillows, as leisurely as you please. His eyes flash and the air in the room seems to have gone very still. Have you angered him? Of all the lines crossed today, and the time before, was this the one too far? Is this a mistake?

You throw the covers back, and don’t miss the way his hand open-flexes and then closes into a tight fist. You slide out of bed, to your feet, standing in front of him. Close. He doesn’t touch you. Doesn’t even move. He is tempted, you think, but hiding it well. He’s thought about this, like you have, but never imagined giving in to it.

Heart pounding, fully expecting that he’ll catch your wrists again, you reach for his belt. He inhales sharply, but doesn’t stop you. You pop the catch, and let it fall into your hands before tossing it on the bed. His collar clasps next. These take a moment. You get them undone, but it’s always harder on someone else. Finally the sealing strip of his tunic. You peel it back, he slips his arms out, and you fold the white fabric carefully.

He lets you undress him. One final act of service under the intensity of his gaze. He seems to understand that you like tending to him. That it means something to you. He sits so you can pull off his boots. You unfasten his trousers and pull them down, listening to the sound of the fabric and his breathing in the dark.

Your body thrums with arousal, so potent it’s making your hands shake, every brush of your skin against Thrawn’s electric-charged with the knowledge that you’re choosing this and so is he.

Then he’s finally bare, completely, and gathering you in his arms.

His lips hover over yours, he whispers your name and then he kisses you, sweet and soft and you feel like you’re falling. You moan into his mouth and he pulls you closer, answering your need. The momentum of it carries you down to his bed together and you wonder distantly how often he even uses it. More times than you can count, you’ve come into his office to find him asleep at his desk. Something in your heart aches for him, a feeling so fragile and incomprehensible, you shove it far, far down, almost enough to extinguish it.

The quiet makes your touches measured and slow. Not wanting to rush anything. Not wanting to betray that you’re suddenly nervous, without the structure and expectations of rank between you. The Grand Admiral. That’s all you’ve ever known Thrawn as, and now he’s kissing your neck, leaving a bruise high enough that your collar won’t cover it.

You gasp his name, and he huffs a quiet laugh, as if he’s been caught at mischief. He kisses lower, your breastbone, covering your breasts in his hands, his fingers plucking at tightened nipples.

He watches you closely, riveted, pinning you with the same intense focus you’ve seen when he’s studying a piece of art, or commanding the Chimaera in battle. Except now you’re at the center of it, arching to his touch, so turned on you can hardly breathe, you want him so badly.

You can feel his cock achingly hard against your stomach, he’s rolling his hips, so you lift to him. He’s shaking as he enters you. He braces himself on his forearms and rocks in slowly, inch by inch. You whimper at the stretch, at how kriffing good his cock feels filling you up.

He chases your mouth, like he can’t kiss you enough, swallowing down each tender little sound you make. You can almost taste when his resolve begins to slip. You’re so slick and hot around him and this is the last time and anything after this doesn’t matter.

He fucks you deep and steady, grinding his hips and you move with him. He takes in the sight of you beneath him, something to keep for later; the light sheen of sweat, tendons going tight in your neck and you start to moan at every thrust. Both of you holding back, trying and failing to draw it out, all the tightly-held control swept away. Thrawn presses forward, hard, his thick length splitting you open over and over.

Clinging to him with a longing cry, you come, pulsing and tight, riding the pleasure as long as you can, not wanting it to end. And Thrawn is there with you. He’s trembling, his abdomen tense with the climax building in his body, just driving in until he comes with a harsh moan, burying his face against your neck.

Two weeks later, you’re wearing the rank plaque of a Commander of the Imperial Navy, and things are going relatively smoothly aboard the ISD Carnage. Thrawn had not attended your promotion ceremony, nor had you asked him. You’d only been his aide, after all, and it would have looked strange for a Grand Admiral to show up for a subordinate so far beneath his rank.

You wish he would’ve been there to pin the new rank on your chest. It would have been easier, at least, with him there, instead of being by yourself to weather the suspicious, jealous glares of other officers who were wondering what exactly you’d done to get the promotion. But you’ve assumed the post of First Officer aboard the Carnage all the same, and now you try not to think about him too much.

You check your terminal one morning, and find, among the frankly disgusting number of messages you get every day, one from [GADM THRAWN] with the subject [PROPOSAL (OPTIONAL)].

You can’t click it open fast enough.

Commander,

I hope you are settling into your new assignment comfortably.

The Chimaera is scheduled for a port call at Brentaal IV at the same time as the Carnage will be granted shore leave on the neighboring Chandrila. I propose a meeting to continue experimentation with the galvi root extract. Specifically, it would be beneficial to run additional controls without the drug. If you are amenable, contact me on my private frequency--

You still know the one. Know it by heart. You can’t help smiling to yourself.

--and we will discuss logistics.

V/R

Grand Admiral Thrawn

ISD Chimaera, 7th Fleet

//end.

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cambion-companion · 6 months

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Thrawn as a Father

I thought I would write a small drabble into an evening I pictured last night while freezing in bed without a Chiss husband to warm me up. Very sad. Thrawn would be the best dad, and make that a girl dad and it's a done deal.

You snuggled down under the thick covers, the warmth enveloping your frigid body.

Thrawn flinched slightly as your ice-block feet pressed against his bare leg. “My heart, I worry about your blood circulation.”

“I can think of ways to improve it.” You smiled, closing your eyes and wrapping your arm around his waist, resting against his warm chest.

You breathed deeply, relaxing as the troubles of the day melted off your shoulders.

Thrawn chuckled, bouncing your head enough for you to squint your eyes open and join him in the moment of mirth. He gave you a squeeze. “Of that I am certain.”

You tilted your head to see his face, his red eyes glowing faintly in the semi-dark bedroom. Such an effect had unnerved you during the early days of knowing him, yet now they held a calming power.

The bedroom door swung open a slightly, the timid voice of your small daughter speaking from below your eyeline. “Mama? I had a bad dream.”

You made a sympathetic noise and slid quickly off the bed to take your little darling into your arms. She hugged you tightly around your neck and reach with her little hands towards where Thrawn was sitting up in bed. You could feel her body trembling.

“All is well, my little warrior.” Thrawn gladly took his daughter from you and helped her snuggle against his side. He glanced up as you got back into bed and together you swaddled her in blankets.

Any bad dreams were soon forgotten, replaced by light giggles as both you and Thrawn tickled the fears away and kissed her nose and forehead. Her eyes shone just as Thrawn’s, and slowly they began to close as a cozy slumber overtook her.

Your daughter slept well, between the warmth of her parents. Thrawn turned on his side, one hand caressing your hair while the other draped over the sleeping child and rested atop your hip.

You smiled. “Goodnight, my loves.”

You could feel the tender protectiveness radiating from your husband. His eyes slowly closed as well, leaving only a faint light emanating from behind his eyelids. Soon you too drifted off to sleep, nestled together with your small family.

#thrawn #grand admiral thrawn #thrawn drabble #thrawn x reader #thrawn x you #thrawn x y/n #thrawn fanfiction

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noraantilles · 7 months

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Stranded

Pairing: Thrawn x gn!reader (y/n)

Summary: Y/N and Thrawn crashed on an unknown planet with nowhere to go where the reader takes care of the grand admiral’s wounds. Y/N is a prisoner to the empire because they have special powers that allow them to do extraordinary things.

Warnings: descriptions of wounds, some swearing, fluff, potential enemies to lovers, reader has healing powers and can take pain, telekinesis

Word count: 1223 words

The landing was harsh. You and Thrawn jumped out of your ship which was split in half while you were heading towards the surface. You could slow down the fall with your telekinetic abilities but the branches of the trees you were falling through caught you anyways. With a light groan, you stood up slowly while inspecting your surroundings.

You landed in a forest. Flora and fauna, something you‘ve never seen before. On which planet were you? And where was your special Companion? “Admiral?“ You shouted into the jungle. No answer. With a concerned glance, you looked around. No way he came down that far away not to hear you. “Hey Admiral, where are you?“ you shouted again nervously.

As there seemed to be no answer for your second shout, your worries started to firm. What if he was dead and the impact of the fall killed him? As much as you hated to admit it to yourself, you liked him in some kind of way. Even if you are standing on different sides. Seeing him die, would mean a small win for the rebellion and that would be perfect, but you just didn’t feel right with that. It wouldn‘t just be a loss for the empire. No. It would be a loss for evolution itself. His intelligence and extraordinary abilities to think things through are immaculate. He is too important to die now and that is why you are worried.

“THRAWN?“ you shouted even louder than before when a dark figure limped out of the forest. “It‘s grand admiral and I am right here.“ You turned around surprised and relieved as you made your way towards him to support him. “What happened?“ you asked as you reached him, observing his wounds that didn’t look like they came from the fall. “A creature I have never seen before attacked me as I tried to walk away. I think my ankle is spread, that’s why I couldn’t run.“

His wounds were deep but the bleeding stopped due to unknown circumstances. It looked infected. In this condition, you weren’t able to heal him properly as you were just able to seal his wounds not disinfect them. But staying here where this thing could come back any moment was way too dangerous. “We need to get out of the forest. Can you walk?“ you stated as you adjusted your support. He nodded wordlessly.

After a short hike, you were able to make it out of the forest as you discovered a settlement in the far. It was a risk to approach a village of an unknown species, but you had no choice, so you headed towards it. At first, they were very defensive as they noticed you two but when they noticed Thrawns wounds they were very helpful. They gave you and Thrawn one of their huts so that he could rest and bring him some antibiotics made from local plants for the infection. Even though none of you spoke each other’s language it didn’t seem to be a big deal.

You waited on the outside of your hut as one of the locals handed you the medicine for him. Since you both were unknown to them, they decided it would be best if you treated his wounds alone.

You stepped back into the hut approaching Thrawn who was half sitting, half lying on some pillows.

Thrawn looked very calm and observed the accommodation. You could tell that he was notoriously stuck in another world that was absolutely new to him. “Are you alright?“ you asked him while you were prepping the salve to treat his infection. “Yes.“ he said stuck in his thoughts without taking his glare off the fabric ornaments which were found all around us. Wordlessly, because he was busy with something else anyway, you pulled back his shirt to face the wounds.

It looked awful. So awful that you really wondered how he was even able to stay conscious less being able to observe his surroundings so curiously like he always did when he found himself an opportunity to learn something new. You looked at him with a concerning frown. “Does that not hurt you?“ “It does.“ he answered like before still unfazed. The longer you looked at him the more you could read his facial expressions.

Sometimes when you moved the shirt further up you could see a slight flinch in his eyes. He seems so rough, but the pain must be enormous for him. Since the empire captured you, some time has passed, and they still weren’t able to get the information about you that they wanted. You never showed them what you could do and never fought back when they lured you into an ambush. That’s why they also never got to witness one of your most special abilities. Your ability to take pain with a physical touch and heal the wounds within a minute. The only thing that you couldn’t heal were blood infections like Thrawns, that’s why they gave you the salve.

You decided to no longer wait. You took some of the salve on your hands and spread them all over the wounds on his torso. The soon your touch hit him you took all of his pain to you. It flowed right through your hand and spread throughout your body. You gasped quietly. Ouch, that hurts like kriffing needles stabbing you from the inside out.

As soon as your body adjusted to the pain your face got more relaxed and you were now able to observe the immediate healing effect the medicine had. In the meantime, Thrawn's attention had finally turned to what was happening right in front of him. While you were staring completely focused on the healing progress, Thrawn witnessed something that he could not quite believe. With your hand resting on his lower torso his pain was completely gone. The fast thinker that he is, he immediately knew that it could not come from that odd salve you gave him, no. It must come from something else. Your touch.

To test his theory he grabbed your wrist and pulled your hand up while staring at you with an intense glare. But the soon as your hand left his body a wave of pain immediately hit him, and he hissed at the sudden very unpleasant sensation. He caught you right-handed. “What are you doing?” you said tauntingly and pushed your hand right back to his torso as the pain started to wander back into your body. As your face had adjusted to the pain you started to look at him.

His eyes were piercing into yours. He was speechless, shocked, and fascinated by what he just had witnessed. “Extraordinary.“ he mumbled while glaring into your eyes. You shivered. His big red eyes gave you a sensation that you have never felt before. It scared you but made you feel special at the same time.

Not once before you had exposed your powers to the empire. And it wasn’t like you had no choice right now. But there was something about the grand admiral that got to you. You always liked intelligent men, but never that much to put away your moral compass. Falling in love with the enemy got to be the worst thing that has ever happened to you. Or was it?

Authors note: Hey guys, thanks for reading. I have been writing for some time now and never posted anything. I am finally ready to share some of my Oneshots with you. My mother tongue isn’t English so please be tolerant of potential mistakes. Anyways, like, share, and reblog if you liked it and I am happy to receive your feedback.

#star wars #thrawn #chiss #thrawn x reader #thrawn x y/n #grand admiral thrawn #grand admiral thrawn x reader #mitth'raw'nuruodo #fanfic #Star Wars fanfic #thrawn fanfiction #grand admiral thrawn x you #thrawn x you #ahsoka #ahsoka series #lars mikkelsen #star wars rebels #ahsoka episode 6

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bits-and-babs · 1 year

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𝐀𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄-𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐄 — 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐍

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

↳ pairing: Grand Admiral Thrawn/Mitth'raw'nuruodo x f!Reader

↳ [1.1k] content:18+ MDNI. Oral (f!receiving), masturbation (m), cumshot, general Thrawn power play bullshit, body worship(? In a roundabout way), power imbalance, eloquent Thrawn dialogue because this man knows his way around a thesaurus. - This is a @beskarbabs remaster -- original post date 2021.

thrawn masterlist I| main masterlist |I join taglist

Thrawn’s affinity to art was not contained to that of paint and marble. The Grand Admiral had often lectured you in his admiration of other mediums. From music and holofilm to the violent beauty of war, Thrawn would often regard each ‘piece’ while revealing parts he admired and elements that he didn’t– all while appreciating it for exactly what it was.

You had also recently discovered that Thrawn considered cuisine a form of art. It had come to your attention at a state banquet for the Empire, where you noticed the Grand Admiral scrutinising each singular component of the dishes presented to him before trying it all together. While he never showed his appreciation outwardly, he had a tell- the very slight, barely there uptick in his brow.

Given that he claimed to be satiated, what you hadn’t expected was the food at the banquet leaving him wanting. Thrawn prevented you from returning to the barracks and had instead requested you, a stormtrooper from his elite force, join him in the journey to his study. You didn’t understand why- it’s Thrawn’s Imperial Star Destroyer, safe, on lockdown, and Thrawn is, himself, a master combatant. Only when the durasteel door slides behind you, and he orders with hungry eyes for you to remove your armour, do you realise he doesn’t need protecting at all.

He needs serving.

While you would love to know how Thrawn thinks you taste at this moment, the position and the technique of his tongue between your thighs render you incapable of lifting your head from where it was hanging off of the edge of his curved desk in his office. Instead, you whine softly, thighs pressing into either side of his sharp-edged cheekbones as he curls his tongue around your clit. The bones are so honed that they feel as though they could slit the soft, malleable flesh open, dripping crimson onto his azure cheeks.

Despite the heaviness of your eyelids resulting from the pleasure his tastebuds draw from you, you are sure of his tell– of the twitch of his midnight-blue brow. Thrawn teased your cunt ravenously, tasting every inch of you and relishing in the way you keen for him and spreading your thighs wider for his insatiable mouth. For what had been at least half an hour now, the highest rank of the 7th Imperial Fleet had been on his knees for you, velvety tongue gliding against your clit and devouring all you gave him.

The usually immaculate Grand Admiral did not mind getting his crystal white trousers dirty for a taste of your dripping cunt.

Wailing brokenly, you shift your hips up slightly, clit brushing the tip of the Grand Admiral’s nose as he dips his tongue into your entrance once more. The ends of his fingers grip harshly into the thighs on his shoulders, keeping you in place as you struggle desperately for more. No doubt there would be bruises in the morning, not all that different from his own sky-blue skin. Tears well in your eyes, frustrated beyond belief at his leisurely pace.

It’s only when Thrawn decides it’s time to pick up the pace that he begins to suck at your clit. Your back arches off the table, again unable to hold still as your superior tortures you. Head still tilted back, you’re panting heavily from the intense workout you’d suffered, cheeks hot and sweat clinging to your body. You find yourself wondering if he likes you like this; fucked out and exhausted.

Flicking the tip of his hot, deft tongue across your clit, Thrawn manages to set a pace that has your orgasm building so tight and fast.

“G-Grand Admiral-” You stammer urgently, losing yourself as you thread your fingers through his deep midnight hair, “Thra- Sir, I’m-”

His hands push your thighs wider apart, holding them steady as he rapidly traces your clit, and, oh, it hits you so fast. It surges, the muscles in your lower abdomen pulling up tight, and your back lifts once more as it just rushes through you. It cuts off your hearing- but you swear you are sobbing, cursing at the stars.

You’re exhausted when the afterglow hits, slumped against the desk with fatigue. Thrawn pulls away and sits up, drawing his thumb across his lips. His other palm splays wide across your abdomen, silently telling you to stay in this particular position, which you do gladly. You’re too exhausted to attempt sitting up.

The sound of the zipper of the Grand Admiral’s pants cuts through the singular sound of your heavy breathing, causing you to glance over at him. His hand works underneath the white waistband of his uniform trousers, taking his thick pulsing cock into his palm.

Again, only you pick up on the signs that he feels good. The slight hitch in his breath, the way his shoulders slump and relax. Always wound so tight, always carrying the weight of the 7th Fleet on his shoulders alone- wanting to please the Emperor.

He gives his cock a squeeze, brushing the pad of his thumb across the leaking tip as he lets out a shuddering breath. Those scarlet eyes flick up to take in your thoroughly fucked out state before he begins working his fist.

“I find myself drawn to you this way,” he muses, his steady voice refusing to betray him as he stroked his length from base to tip. You often wondered if he meant to portray himself this way, powerful and unmoving, or if he naturally exudes that aura. So much of your superior was yet still a mystery to you.

“Amongst even the finest pieces in the galaxy, You are by far the most striking creation in here,” he admitted, his voice a little strained despite his best efforts. You’ll take that compliment.

His fist was moving quicker, working just underneath the throbbing head of his cock. You watch him smear precum across his swollen tip as he did, strokes rough now.

Soon, his breath is hitching more, a somewhat violet tinge to his cheeks, which you assume is a form of flush. He’s close. You’d never seen him like this; most of your secret rendezvous quick while he took you from behind. This is a new form of vulnerability- one you felt lucky to witness.

With a few more rough strokes, Thrawn lets out a deep, quiet groan of bliss. His cum paints you, streaking across your chest and abdomen as he continues to pull at his cock. When he’s finished, the white ropes of cum paint the skin of your thighs too.

Unlike most times, Thrawn does not rush to dress. Instead, he holds your waist, thumb brushing the curve of your ribs as he admires you, taking in every inch.

“Yes. Most definitely the finest piece of artwork I have acquired.”

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foreverforty2 · 1 year

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A gift for @thespicypapaya, a commission for me done by @blackmonitor of a scene I chose from papaya’s fanfic; Enjoy! https://archiveofourown.org/works/43339410

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enaelyork · 7 months

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Thrawn's room aesthetic headcanon

I don't know why when i reading about Thrawn and i have to imagine where he lives (apart from the Chimaera of course), I see lots of patterns (astronomical, botanicals...) and noble materials. Something floral and very artistic with perhaps objects or musical instruments. Obviously, blue dominates to make the atmosphere more soothing.

#thrawn headcanon #grand admiral thrawn #grand admiral thrawn x reader #thrawn fanfiction #thrawn x reader #star wars aesthetic #aethestic #starwars headcanon #thrawn trilogy #star wars fanfiction #star wars rebels #star wars #myroomsaesthetics

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pocket-thrawn · 2 months

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Crossing the Stars

A pretty self-indulgent fic, warming up my Thrawn writing muscles.

Thrawn x f!reader

Music swirled around you, painting dazzling notes of clear flutes and heady cellos all merging into a beautiful symphony. You smelled the fine wines and the decadent foods being passed around on silver platters by carefully dressed servants.

Despite the rich atmosphere and numerous happily chatting guests, all that filled your mind was the injustice of such rich frivolity when there remained such desperate suffering in the Galaxy. Acts of atrocity spurred on and, in some cases, encouraged by the very Empire you had to pretend to support.

Naboo was your home world, and you had fought tooth and nail to keep your people as protected from the Empire’s influence as you could. Your fellow senators had become little more than puppets dancing luridly on the end of Palpatine’s strings after the fall of the Republic. It was with a heavy heart you took up the mantle of Naboo’s senator after the last Queen had so tragically passed away.

So many uniformed individuals, your heart twisted at the sight of the Stormtroopers and Imperial officers milling around. Your own traditional dress brushed velvet against your skin as you turned and walked unhurried to a part of the grand hall that was sufficiently unoccupied.

“Oh, I do apologize.” You said, brushing against another body as you maneuvered around a rather gaudy potted plant.

“It is quite alright.”

You turned your head to offer the gentleman a commiserating sort of look at the state of affairs here, yet the small smile froze upon your face. Your eyes widened slightly, knowing immediately the identity of the blue-skinned alien you’d carelessly knocked into.

“Grand Admiral.” You said, fluidly moving to an appropriate distance from the Chiss.

Thrawn looked down upon you, a small tensing of his lips the only indicator of his amusement. “It seems you already know who I am. I would be remiss not to ask for your identity miss…”

“Erys.” The false name you’d created rolled easily off your tongue as you politely extended your hand, unsure if he would take it. “Senator and representative of Naboo and her people.”

Thrawn did indeed take your hand and shook once before relinquishing it. You noticed immediately how unusually warm his skin was against yours. “Grand Admiral Thrawn, of the Imperial Navy. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, however abrupt in nature.”

“Yes…” You pulled your skirts fully off the offending plant and gave it an aggrieved glance. “Again, sorry about that.”

Thrawn simply gave a small smile. His glowing red eyes unnerving in the emotionless quality they lent.

“Enjoying the gala?” You ventured, feeling obligated to keep the conversation going. You were almost on auto-pilot at this point, going through the motions of a political representative.

“Not entirely.” Thrawn’s smooth voice was almost hypnotic, you found yourself leaning in to hear better as he cast a look around the crowded room. “I am of far better use on the command deck of the Chimaera.”

“Your Star Destroyer, of course.” Something in your voice must have betrayed your disdain for the Imperial vessels because Thrawn’s piercing gaze flicked back to your face.

“Indeed.”

“You had art specially commissioned for the body of your ship, correct?”

“I’m surprised you are aware of my personalization.” Thrawn seemed to be growing ever more interested in this banter.

You chuckled, making sure to not make excessive eye contact with him. You didn’t want gossiping whispers following you back to Naboo. “I’m not sure there’s anyone who doesn’t know of it.” You met his eyes again, he was making no such tactful attempts. “It’s quite the statement.”

“There’s little about me that isn’t.” Thrawn intoned, drawing a surprised chuckle from you. “May I ask after the nature of your clothing?” He continued, hands tightly clasped behind his back and yet his gaze almost felt corporeal on your person as he studied you.

You swallowed a little thickly through your nerves. The points of brighter red you guessed served as Thrawn’s pupils followed the movement of your throat as you spoke. “Yes, of course.”

Thrawn held up a quelling hand for a moment, smiling politely. “I do not wish to impose my presence if unwanted.” It seemed he wished to clarify his intentions. “The conversation you lend is proving to be the most tolerable of this evening.”

You gave him a dubious look. “I get the impression that’s not saying much.”

He chuckled, short and quiet, but yet an actual expression of mirth from a man rumored to be implacable and cold at all times. “No, you are quite correct.”

“Still…” You decided to capitalize on this congenial moment. “I thank you for the compliment. My dress, as you already suggested, is fashioned after the regal regalia of my home world.”

“Excellent play on words.” Thrawn turned his body fully to face you and despite yourself, you did the same. “Please, continue.”

You explained the meaning behind the colors and the artistry woven into the fabric of your dress and hair ornaments. Thrawn listened with rapt attention, seeming to genuinely be interested in your every word. You couldn’t tell if it was simply politeness on his part, in a desire to be distracted from the endless chatter of political machinations around you. Yet as you spoke and he prompted you from time to time, you felt the tension between you slowly ease and drop into an easy companionship.

“Your planet has quite a rich history.” Thrawn said, inclining his head politely when you’d finished speaking. “My condolences on the passing of your late senator.”

Your lips pursed, lingering melancholia tugging at your heart. “She was the best of us.”

Thrawn was silent for a moment, his mouth turning slightly downward in thought. “You strike me as an intelligent and capable individual, you will do well.”

“What of you?” You asked the question that’d been burning in the back of your mind since bumping into him. “Where are you from? What brought you to serve the Empire?”

“A story, perhaps, for another time.” Thrawn said, giving you a smile to indicate he wasn’t offended by your prying.

“It’s quite unusual to see someone non-human to rise within the ranks of the Empire, and so quickly too.” You mused. “Though I am sure you’ve heard such a sentiment quite a lot.”

Thrawn nodded slowly. “Indeed, I have.”

You wanted to ask so many questions but got the sense he was not open to answering them.

“You are not fond of the Empire.” Thrawn said, it wasn’t a question, and it caught you off guard.

“I…whatever gave you that impression?” It was near impossible to keep the irony out of your voice. You clasped your hands behind your back, mirroring his posture, suddenly careful. Amidst the ease of your light banter, you’d forgotten just what Thrawn was and who he served.

Thrawn studied you silently for several seconds. “It is quite evident. Whenever you speak mention the Empire or look at the Officers in this very hall, the distaste is clear upon your visage.”

“You’ve been scrutinizing my ‘visage’ hm?” You asked coyly, deflecting.

“Indeed. Am I correct?”

You hesitated, your shoulders tensing as you looked around the room for a ready excuse to exit this suddenly uncomfortable encounter. You got the sense that it was no use lying to this Chiss man. You gave a terse nod. “Yes.”

“May I ask why?” Thrawn was unlike any Imperial you’d heretofore encountered. He had proven to be polite and respectful, even though you were a senator; a position that drew disdain and condescension from the majority of Palpatine’s servants. You felt like you could open up to Thrawn, which might have been his game all along, there was no real way of knowing.

The fact he would ask your reasons for disliking the Empire surprised you into answering. “There are aspects that I do not agree with, the utter abolishment of democracy being one of them.”

“It has not been abolished as of yet.” Thrawn intoned, lowering his soft voice so you could not be overheard. “The Senate remains, you are proof of this.”

“We are little more than puppets, extensions of Palpatine’s will. And the Senate, as it remains, is slowly being dissolved.”

Thrawn listened to your words, he didn’t argue back. Again, surprising you.

He waited, so you continued. “I don’t condone slavery or the rape of worlds for their resources, displacing millions of people from their homes.” Your words lapsed as you became dangerously close to speaking treason.

“I will not say the Empire is perfect.” Thrawn’s voice remained gentle, no condemnation coloring his words. “However, it is stronger than the Republic, more capable of protecting the Galaxy.”

“I won’t argue that the Republic was perfect.” You rubbed anxiously at your neck before folding your hands politely in front of you. “However a totalitarian regime that relies on fear to govern isn’t the answer.”

“Yes, I had heard rumor the senator from Naboo was quite vocal in her political stance.” Thrawn murmured, his hand found the small of your back causing you to jolt slightly. “Come, peruse the gallery with me.”

Intrigued and not wishing to draw more eyes than had been already, you allowed the Grand Admiral to gently guide you out of the crowded gala hall and into a more secluded marble corridor. Your footsteps echoed as you walked together in silence, Thrawn’s hand no longer at your back.

“After you, please.” Thrawn opened the glass door and bowed slightly as you passed.

You instantly noticed the plush carpet beneath your thin shoes and sighed in relief at the ease it gave your aching feet.

“Yes, a much more comfortable setting. One I quite prefer to political decadence.” Thrawn said behind you, and you turned to see him calmly observing a vivid oil painting framed by the door.

“You did mention your fondness for art.” You joined him and looked at the splash of color that made little sense to you.

“I am equally fond of truth.” Thrawn glanced sideways, you could feel the burning of those red eyes upon you like a weight before he shifted his attention back to the painting again. “What do you see upon this canvas?”

“A…lot of color all thrown together.” You said, mildly peeved, you folded your arms across your chest. “It’s quite an abstract piece.”

“Indeed.” Thrawn turned to face you more fully, causing you to step back on instinct. “To me it describes chaos, anger perhaps, a purposeful lack of care to hide the true meaning beneath.”

“You know…” You remained poised and standing straight, your shoulders back as you inclined your chin to look up at him. “It is very impressive what you can sense from someone’s art, or what they’ve named as art. However, I will remind you that art is up to the viewer’s interpretation. You cannot draw concrete conclusions from art the way you can from the sciences.”

A small smile tugged the corner of Thrawn’s mouth, it gave a self-satisfied impression. As if you’d said exactly what he’d expected. “Very astute, senator Erys. And almost entirely correct. However, even with art, there are certain patterns that become predictable as one studies the nature of sentient beings, particularly humans.”

You arched a brow. “Such as what, may I ask?”

“Emotion.” Thrawn said, leveling his glowing gaze at you. “I would suggest art is always produced by the emotion of its creator. That is why, to understand an adversary or an ally one must study all aspects of their culture, including their art.”

“Which am I, adversary or ally?” You asked, unable to help yourself, even as your hands clenched briefly.

Thrawn smiled and shook his head slightly. “I do not yet know, senator.” His smile faded as he lent down more into your space. “There are many rumors surrounding you, however I know firsthand how such gossip can be entirely inaccurate. For this reason, I am giving you one opportunity to tell me the truth.”

“The truth?” Your heart dropped like a stone; your hands became clammy as you realized how you’d walked right into his trap. The tilt of his head indicated he’d read and recognized all your reactions as the dread coiled within you.

“About yourself, and the organizations you are affiliated with.” Thrawn said softly, his every muscle holding very still, like a spider in its web. “Now, shall we start from the beginning?”

#thrawn fanfiction #grand admiral thrawn #thrawn x reader #thrawn x you #thrawn x oc #chiss fic #drabble #multi part fic

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bruh-myguy-what · 5 days

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If Not Him, Perhaps Me

Hoooooooo boy! I cannot believe how long it's been. It's almost criminal I've let this go on for so long without an update. I hate doing that...but the ADHD and life decided that just couldn't- which was great (derogatory). However! I am back. Fully, entirely, and totally invested in restarting this series because I still love the idea and want to see it through. I now have an AO3 as well, so I will posting all of the updates and original parts there once I get everything organized.

If you were part of the original tag list and would like to not longer be apart of it, no hard feelings- just message me to let me know and you will be promptly removed for the notifications!

But! If you would like to be added or I forgot to add you- since it's been 140000 years- please just let me know! (whether via message or comment)

________________________

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Pairing- Thrawn x f!reader x Luke Skywalker

Summary- After being aboard the Chimera, for who knows how long, you've grown accustomed to the troopers and how things operate, but one thing that just won't become easy is dealing with Grand Admiral Thrawn.

Word Count- 3.5K

Warnings- Mentions of kidnapping, confrontation, angst

Days turned into weeks which, you could only assume, was closely turning into a month. There were no signs of Luke knowing where in the galaxy you might be or even where to begin looking for you. At the earlier stages of your confinement, fear settled in your heart when the thought of being left aboard an Imperial Star Destroyer alone...without Luke, reared its head. Over time though, complete loneliness dissipated and was replaced by the friendly interactions you participated in with a few Storm Troopers that were in charge of your immediate well-being. "Are you ready for your lunch today," a familiar modulated voice echoed through your small confinement as he called your name.

Lifting your head from the notebook given to you a few weeks prior, a sigh escaped your lips. "I don't know, Danver, is it that gross mush stuff again or, will I be allowed to eat normal food for once while here?" Your comment garnered a laugh from the trooper as he opened the cell doors, setting the plate on a table given to you at Thrawn's request.

"Sorry, pal," the soldier replied, his modulated voice still resonating with a smile, "not even we get to enjoy delicacies like that aboard the Chimera."

While scooting yourself off the comfortable cot you currently spent your time nestled in (which too had been replaced at the request of the Grand Admiral after you'd mentioned off-handedly something about neck and back pain), you set aside the drawing book. A look of displeasure crossed your face, "who honestly eats this stuff willingly?" A disgruntled mumble was all the trooper beside you needed to hear, to pat your shoulder assuringly in response.

"Apparently, you do," his laugh caused your shoulders to slump. "Don't act so melodramatic. At least you're the admiral's favorite prisoner," Danver's joke hardly seemed comical to you as the cell forcefield reappeared behind him. "You might be the admiral's favorite person entirely aboard the Chimera, in fact."

A snort escaped from between your lips as you disregarded the boring plate, preferring the growling in your stomach over the same taste of dried fruits and cold meat. "That's real cute, Danver." You quipped, "Next time, why don't you let him know that so maybe I can go home instead of being held captive here."

Raising his hands in defense, the trooper shook his head. "Listen snarky, all I'm saying is that if you complain about something, it changes, and at a good speed too. If you mention that you're bored, you receive gifts to prevent said boredom- again- at a pretty astounding rate. You also have an array of soldiers at your doorstep to keep you company- though that one could be because we all like you," he laughed at the end of his explanation. His words surprised you, the conviction in which he mentioned the favoritism Thrawn had seemingly shown you caught you off guard. Skepticism lurked in your glare at your newfound "friend" as you stole a glance at the journal gifted to you. "Everyone else has mentioned it, not just me. I've just been the first one to say something to you, apparently." He chuckled again at the suspicious look on your face.

"You're laughing, but I don't find the joke funny..." you grimace at the trooper.

"That's because I'm not joking, snarky," Danver responded steadily and even behind the black visor, you could feel his unwavering stare. "Believe it or not, the admiral has taken a liking to you and all of the Chimera crew can tell." And with a salute, the trooper left you with a thousand thoughts swirling.

There was no way someone as stern and withdrawn as Thrawn would have any kind of favorites, at all, let alone aboard the Chimera. He was only using you to get to Luke, that was it.

Though...

Your thoughts drifted to the conversations you'd been having recently. While you couldn't recount exactly how long you had been on the Chimera, you knew it had felt long enough to feel an odd...growth to your chats with Thrawn. He had been what, you guessed, would be considered "kinder" when he spoke directly to you. At times he had even invited you to his office merely to speak about your art or have you critique some other interesting pieces he had gathered over his years of travel. Thinking about it long enough it did seem that you were learning more facets of the Grand Admiral, though nothing about him personally, just...small details that one could only learn about someone from being in their presence enough.

Of course, even under this realization, there was hardly any way you were going to be kind back to him. He was an Imperial Grand Admiral using you to gain control over the rebel cause, 'Over my dead body.' You thought stubbornly to yourself.

If Thrawn wanted to bring the Empire back into power again, he'd have to do it without your knowledge or help. You just hoped he wouldn't catch onto clues about things as easily as he'd seemed to have with your previous art.

Picking at the pages of your journal, you fidgeted in thought.

____________________________

"She seems to be acclimating very well, sir," a modulated voice spoke in reply to an earlier command, "the troopers all seem to love her. While the other crew members don't seem to interact with her all that much, when we escort her on her strict walks around the vessel, she keeps to herself and doesn't seem to nose around."

Something about this sudden growing knowledge of how well you had been treating his troopers bothered Thrawn. You'd been aboard the Chimera for going on three months and yet in your constant visits with him you still refused to open up at all, quipping with biting comments and passive-aggressive retorts, even when asked simple questions.

The duality perplexed him. Of course, he understood very well that he had never been known for his social skills, even back in the Ascendancy. Even then he expected that at some point you would see he didn't desire for your entire stay aboard his vessel to be excruciating.

Though at times it seemed you'd rather it be such way.

You were unbearably tenacious.

Difficult to speak with about any subject, and downright defiant at some intervals.

It...astonished Thrawn.

"Captain," the cold, calculating voice finally broke the long growing silence, "tell me, why do you believe our captive is so," he pondered for a moment, "agreeable with you?" The Chiss stopped his journey, to stand before the large sculpture in his office- scrutinizing it.

Silence ensued once more as the Storm Trooper considered the question, "U-Uh...sir?"

Turning only his head to glance over at the soldier standing taut by the door, Thrawn encouraged, "I am simply endeavoring to understand what it is she sees so sociable in my troopers, Captain."

"W-Well sir, it seems to me that since she trusts us to not harm her, we have gained her confidence. She's mentioned how scrutinizing you are about her, she..." The trooper wavered for a moment, "She seems to distrust you, uh, sir."

"I see."

The curt reply concerned the captain, but he remained diligent in his stance.

"You are dismissed, Captain. Thank you for your time." Thrawn returned to look back over at the large statue.

"Y-Yes sir!" The trooper bowed quickly and retreated through the doors behind him.

Left alone in the quiet of his office, the Grand Admiral considered what he’d been told. "She does not trust me, hmm?" He wandered back over to his desk, lowering himself into his seat. "It would seem my efforts have not had their desired result. Perhaps I must attempt something more... suitable."

____________________________

"Ya know, I feel like at this point, we could honestly just," you paused dramatically, gesturing for a moment with your hands, "stop wasting our time with these meetings, don't you?"

Thrawn sat idly in his chair, behind his desk, elbows propped up on his desk to steeple his fingers in thought, silently watching you. He'd called you in for another round of conversation at random and it had felt as if all fear had left the atmosphere that surrounded him- now you were just annoyed.

"I feel like we've gone back and forth enough for you to understand that your little gifts?" You lifted the journal he requested you to bring this time, "They aren't going to sweeten me up to you."

"Are you unhappy with the opportunity to practice your art once more?" His sudden question caught you off point as you opened your mouth to continue your tirade, mouth now hanging open dumbly. "Perhaps I have misunderstood your subtle requests then. If you are so displeased with my efforts, then you are more than welcome to return the journal."

Was this guy serious? Was he guilt-tripping you?

Lost for a response, you sat back in your seat, contemplatively. Were you being ungrateful? Had this "warlord of the Empire" truly tried to do something nice for you?

No.

He kidnapped you!

No way!

A small intake of air and the soft rustle of clothing caught your attention and looking back over the desk you saw Thrawn had resumed his casual position in his seat- inclining back a bit, a long leg crossed over the other as he grabbed up his datapad. "I have arranged for you to be transferred into your own personal quarters. Your things are being moved as we speak, please come to me if there is anything out of place. There shall be a set of Storm Troopers at your door to ensure your safety," then his glowing eyes met yours, severe and still unnerving, "and to dissuade your premature and unannounced departure from my ship."

Narrowing your eyes at the admiral, you cocked your head in confusion and irritation. "Wha-?"

"It would seem we have nothing further to discuss," Thrawn interrupted with an oddly soft use of your name, averting his eyes back to the datapad in his hands, "you are dismissed. A trooper outside shall see you to your new space."

Why did he keep interrupting you?!

"But I'm not finished!" You protested heatedly, rising from your seat to place your hands and journal on the desk. Leaning furiously toward the Chiss, "Why are you being so weirdly nice to me? You want information, I know it, but I'll be damned if you think I'm stupid enough to fall for these petty acts of kindness as your method of manipulation."

Your frustration was only met with calm silence, not a shifting of his red eyes, nor a flinch in his body. He seemed thoroughly unimpressed by your outrage. 'How dare he ignore me!' You fumed, gripping the desk edge until your knuckles were white.

"Damn it, Thrawn! I don't care if you're a Grand Admiral of some extinct Empire, I will not be ignored!"

"It would surprise you then, to hear that perhaps I am not manipulating you?" Again with his dumb questions as responses!

That didn't settle your anger any and it seemed as if Thrawn could sense that, as he sat down his datapad, leaned forward, and grabbed the discarded journal from in front of you. "Perhaps", he spoke casually, surveying the worn cover, then before speaking again, met your eyes with what seemed like....warmth? "You have genuinely piqued my inquisitiveness and whether you are connected to a Jedi is no longer an appeal of mine, but rather you are."

An odd feeling settled over you at his gaze. Whereas before Thrawn had only ever seen through you- or so it felt- he was staring...at you now. His eyes seemed to carry the oddest hint of tenderness, maybe? It was something new, something you hadn't seen in his stare before, and you had been the subject of most of his glaring recently.

Even as you stood there, voiceless, the admiral's eyes simply observed you. A warmth spread into your cheeks at his open stare and you withdrew from the desk clumsily, eyes averting to anything else around you.

Were you blushing?

Over Thrawn!

How embarrassing...you were supposed to be furious, not...bashful at such an odd compliment.

Was it a compliment?

Standing from his desk, Thrawn positioned his hands behind his back in his typical way, "Come, allow me to show you to your room then."

Once outside the hall, the Storm Troopers began to follow behind, to which Thrawn coolly discharged them. You were so wrapped up in what just happened in his office, you hardly recognized the confused glances they had given one another. The metal grating below you was suddenly far too fascinating to care about the odd looks of the passing Chimera crew.

The entire walk had been silent, Thrawn never tried to quell any uncomfortable energy you were clearly giving off, he was just...quiet.

That was until the two of you had reached your new room and he greeted the two Storm Troopers already stationed, "Please see that she is satisfied with the room." Thrawn then turned to you, to which you slowly met his glowing eyes. His height was as intimidating as ever, that had never changed. "As I previously mentioned, if you find anything not to your liking, I would request that you address me personally about the matter. You know where my office is by now, I assume?"

"Yes, I do." You quietly replied, nodding meekly.

"Good. Then I shall see you for our next meeting when I call for it." And after handing you off to the guards, the admiral departed down the hall from where the two of you came.

Confusion upon confusion racked up in your mind as you stepped forward, one of the troopers pressing the button to open your door for you. "Weird he brought you here himself, huh?" One of them chimed in as you passed him. Thankfully you recognized the voice and it brought some ease to you.

"Shut up, Arrance, I'm already confused enough." You grumbled, the door sliding shut behind you.

Once you reached for the light, you were shocked to see how...cozy the room actually was. An enormous bed sat in the left quarter of the room, framed by an even larger window that looked out into the starry ocean of space. The bed seemed large enough for four people, fitted with a plush comforter and so many warm-colored blankets it looked like a nest you could crawl into and hibernate for months. The pillows looked just as inviting, their matching covers pulling the colors together beautifully. There was an expansive couch that seemed to go on forever and had nearly as many pillows as the large bed, behind it, butted up against the steel wall, and beside the window sat a desk.

As you explored you noticed that you had a private fresher with everything you could need to pamper yourself, an easel with canvases, paints, and paintbrushes, and a very small kitchenette. Everything.

Thrawn had thought of...everything.

There was nothing this nice aboard the Falcon...

Though, your family was there.

Han and Leia.

Chewie.

R2.

...Luke.

As you sat on the couch, thinking about how much you missed everyone, your heart ached for Luke. Hearing his sweet laugh, feeling his warm touches- as few as they were. And while the room Thrawn had given you was nice...you couldn't help but be reminded of how long you must've been away from the group by now. No one had given you an exact frame of how long you'd been aboard the Chimera, not even Thrawn, but it’s had to be months at this point. Months with still no sign of Luke...

You knew he wouldn't leave you in the hands of the Imperials indefinitely, even if just because you were friends...and nothing more.

Nothing more.

Never more.

Not for a Jedi.

Not for Luke.

Though, that would never stop your heart from yearning for more. Luke meant the world to you and loving him came so easily, especially when that precious smile appeared on his face whenever Han would say something stupid, or Leia would mention something about the twins. His gentleness when it came to those he cared about. His determination and love for others.

Luke was a wonderful man. A strong, compassionate man.

You missed them all so much...

You missed Luke even more.

Maybe they'd come to save you soon.

You just had to hold out hope.

A knock roused you unexpectedly.

You'd fallen asleep?

Of course, you had. The couch was the most comfortable thing you'd relaxed in for weeks- besides that seat in Thrawn's office that was arguably snuggly.

"Oh right..." you mumbled to yourself as you wiped at your tired eyes. You'd forgotten you’d yelled at Thrawn earlier and then he gave you that weird compliment. "What a jerk."

Another knock brought your attention back and you stood to answer it. With a whoosh, you were met with a trooper holding out your journal. How'd he get that? Didn't they move it in with everything else?

"The admiral wanted me to make sure this made its safe return to you." Danver's voice reached your ears and you looked at him confused.

"The admiral?" You echoed curiously.

The nod of his plastoid helmet made everything click back into place, "Yeah. He said you'd left it in his office."

You hadn't left it! That insufferable Chiss had swiped it from you while you were shouting at him! What was with him, anyway?!

You took a deep breath, leveling your irritation, this wasn't Danver's issue. No need to yell at him. No, you’d save that for Thrawn’s next meeting. "Thanks, Danver. I appreciate it."

Muttering a response, he peaked his head in and glanced around with a whistle, modulator crackling slightly from the sound. "He really did give you the best quarters on the ship. That's nuts."

"I'm sorry?" You responded.

Danver moved to stand out of the doorway once again, "word's been going around that the admiral moved you to the nicest room, aside from his, on the Chimera." He chuckled in good humor, "Looks like they weren't lying. Now you really can't argue with me that you're his favorite, huh?" With a nudge to the arm, the captain left after a farewell, the door sliding shut.

You blinked a few times, trying to process what he’d said. It took a moment, but in stunned silence you walked over to slouch into the bed, the journal still in hand. "What the hell is happening?" You muttered, opening up the pages aimlessly, trying to comprehend the last few hours or so of the day.

Thrawn had allowed you to yell at him, instead meeting you with a very oddly placed compliment.

He then gave you, what Danver called, the best room on the Chimera- after having shouted directly at him.

What in the galaxy was going on?

Then your eyes caught something out of place as you flipped through the filled pages, "huh?" Annotations had been made on one of your drawings of a Storm Trooper- coincidentally, Danver- speaking to what seemed to be another person not pictured on the page. The script looked familiar and you realized why quickly after reading the comments.

It was Thrawn's handwriting.

'Captain Danver's plastoid chest piece has a notch or two more than you have decided to add here. Though overall I find your attention to detail praiseworthy. Not many see things as you seem to. The way you've drawn him, opting to illustrate him speaking with a fellow trooper, shows your level of personal esteem for him. Your art is beautiful, your talent is unmatched. Please, continue, I would like to see more.'

Snapping the journal shut and throwing it on the floor, cheeks hot, you curled yourself into the cozy blankets "Stupid Chiss."

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Tag list:

@blueberry-thrawn @myevilmouse @blackmonitor @coffeeorsomething-irl @torchbearerkyle @agenteliix @rebelmarylou @danger-xylophones @srryxmate @dindjarinsluvbot

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ceapa-mica · 4 months

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The First Date 💌 - a Thrawn headcanon

I got so many views for my NSFW alphabet, I couldn't keep myself from writing another Thrawn headcanon! 🤗

This one is SFW, there's no mention of Reader's gender.

When Thrawn tells you he would like to get to know you better and asks if you want to spend the evening with him you agree without having to think twice.

Later you find a box on your bed containing a beautiful dress. Somehow it's exactly the right size and in your favorite color. You never told Thrawn either and are not sure how he could have known.

There are two places where a date with Thrawn could take place. One being his quarters on the Chimera and the other a not very well known city on a backwater planet.

Let's start with the scenario on the Chimera.

Your dress turns some heads on your way to Thrawns quarters. It's not regulation after all and the entire 7th fleet will gossip by the time your date is over.

Thrawn wants his private life to remain private. Unfortunately for you, that means lots of secrecy. He won't share words of love and affection in public, no physical touch beyond what is considered ‘professional’ either. You keep a strictly professional relationship during working hours.

Tbh either way, your relationship will be the biggest open secret aboard.

Thrawn assumed the dress would suit you well, but when he sees you wearing it in the flesh his heart skips a beat.

He ordered the good food, none of this mess hall mush, and a large portion too! It's the best food you've eaten since you joined the Imperial Navy. Along with that a bottle of fine Alderaanian wine he kept for special occassions - the expensive one!

Thrawn is suave af, and sincerely interested in you. When he said he wanted to get to know you better he meant it.

You are the first human he ever dated. It's a new experience for him and it fascinates him how different it is from dating a Chiss. Humans are just so much more expressive with their emotions. While this could be seen as a weakness by others of his kind, he admires it. He admires you.

You tell him about your life away from duty. Your family, your hobbies, your dreams and aspirations.

When, in return, you ask him about his life he starts talking about art. His favorite artists, art of cultures he admires etc. You're a little bit disappointed he leaves questions about his family and general heritage unanswered and skillfully turns the conversation back to your interests or his interest in art and warfare.

This is your first date, what did you expect? Thrawn has a mysterious aura for a reason. For him to tell you about his home you need to establish a relationship first.

It was a pleasant evening. He insists on taking you back to your quarters.

When you arrive at your door and make sure it's just the two of you, he leans in for a sweet kiss.

His lips are softer than you imagined. He tastes like the dinner you just ate and like something that's so distinctively him.

Being so close to him, you notice for the first time that under the scent of standard issue Imperial soap™ and aftershave lies his very own musky scent. He smells different from humans, somehow crisp like a winter breeze.

That moment of closeness passed too quickly for your liking. You wish each other a good night and he leaves you alone in your quarters.

Let's say you won't be able to sleep for a while, his kiss being the only thing on your mind for the rest of the night and the days after.

Now let's look at the other option - going out with Thrawn - a date away from the Chimera.

You meet at a small shuttle at the Chimera’s hangar. You notice it's the first time you see him unaccompanied by his death troopers outside his office.

You blink in astonishment at his attire. Instead of his pristine white Imperial uniform he wears a black civilian suit without the chest candy indicating his rank.

He refuses to tell you where he wants to take you. It's a surprise, but a welcome one.

The city he visits with you is only a short hyperspace travel away. The planet is relatively unknown, but it's rich with culture.

Before you leave the shuttle he takes out a pair of green shaded sunglasses. It takes everything in you not to laugh at his appearance.

He explains that he wears it for safety reasons. Leaving the safety of his fleet puts a target on his back, and being seen in public with you puts one on your back as well.

He takes you to a picturesque part of town to a small restaurant where you sit in a dimly lit corner.

You chat about basically everything I have already named above.

The food served in the restaurant is exotic, unlike anything you've ever tried before. You and Thrawn choose anything that sounds delicious from the menu. The food is better than anything the kitchen droids on the Chimera could ever cook.

Thrawn tells you he heard of this place’s excellent cuisine last time he visited the planet incognito to attend an art exhibition.

Slow jizz music plays in the background and it feels like time has stopped completely, at this moment it's just the two of you, you've only got eyes for each other. (He took off his shades since the corner where you eat is quite secluded) Thrawn feels the same and it intrigues him.

You're a little tipsy from the wine by the time you leave the restaurant. The date night is far from over though.

He takes you to a historic building that houses an art gallery.

It's the middle of the night, but Thrawn notified the owner, who he knows due to his past visits, and they let you in. You have the entire gallery for yourself with no prying eyes.

He explains different art styles and points out details you wouldn't have noticed without him.

You eventually come across a painting by an artist you've never heard of. You love the style, the image itself and how the colors compliment each other. It speaks to you in a way you can't explain.

Of course Thrawn knows all about said painting and answers all your questions.

You wonder why he has become a Grand Admiral and not an art critic.

You tell him how much you appreciate spending time with him. For once not occupied with destroying rebel cells, you get a glimpse of the man behind the stoic facade.

Your words mean so much to him. There's a romantic tension in the air, so thick you could cut it with a knife.

Once the chance presents itself, he pulls you into a dark corner behind one of the large curtains, your faces are close, his gaze wanders from your lips to your eyes for consent.

As soon as you nod, his warm soft lips are on yours, the kiss gentle, but it quickly turns passionate as he deepens it, his tongue begging for entrance.

His hands start roaming your body. It feels like he's everywhere all at once, his unique scent surrounding you and his taste on your tongue. He's respectful though, keeping his hands away from intimate areas. It's your first date and you're still in public, remember?

During your little makeout session you lose your sense of time.

Tbh you wish this moment would never end.

Once you separate for air, he caresses your cheek. For a fleeting moment there is a softness in his scarlet eyes you've never seen before.

From that moment on he calls you 'ch’eo ch’acah' when you're alone with him. You don't know what it means at first. One day he will tell you, and it might be just the first of many Cheunh phrases you will learn from him. (it means 'my darling/beloved')

The evening went by way too fast for your liking. You both agree though that you enjoyed yourselves and want to go on another date in the future.

You return to the Chimera and he drops you off at your quarters before heading to his own.

You don't know where this blossoming relationship is going, but it definitely feels right.

Please keep in mind that Thrawn keeps your relationship secret to keep you safe from harm. Only at the point where your relationship is serious enough (like engagement) will he admit to it to others.

One more thing: A few days after your first date in the city you receive a package. It contains an exact replica of the painting you liked so much. It comes without a note, but you don't need one to know that your feelings for the Grand Admiral are in no way unrequited.

Let's visit a Thrawn relationship headcanon next time! This was only the first date.

Feel free to add to this headcanon! ❤️

#grand admiral thrawn #thrawn #thrawn x reader #thrawn x you #thrawn fanfiction #mitth'raw'nuruodo #blue man hot #star wars rebels #ahsoka series #star wars

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pencil-urchin · 5 months

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@vibratingskull Merman Thrawn! He's not as cleanly-rendered or even as decorated in jewelry as he should be, but I was too impatient to post him!

Go check out this AU, y'all! It's SO GOOD!!!

I made my husband and my brother and my bff and at least one other friend listen to me talk about it (I make them listen to me talk about all your stories, Lovely, not just this one!)!

It's so creative and interesting!

And where it left off!

Just 🤯 !

#thrawn #star wars #grand admiral thrawn #art #digitalart #thrawnsimp #artist #fanart #digital painting #fanfic #fanfiction #thrawn fanfiction #thrawn fanfic #mermaid #merman #mer'tth'raw'nuroudo #vibratingskull

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al-astakbar · 10 months

Text

☆ Kept — Thrawn x reader ☆

> summary ☆ Thrawn reveals a long-held desire

> pairing ☆ Thrawn x reader

> word count [1.8k] ☆ warnings ☆ breeding kink but it’s soft; PIV sex; creampies; cunnilingus; speaking Cheunh; visions of domestic bliss ;-;

> posted on ao3 ☆

You know that Thrawn has always kept parts of himself back. In reserve, waiting for the right moment to play his hand. But this…

“You want to…” the word itself, the very idea sounds shockingly filthy when he says it.

“To breed you, yes.” He tilts his head slightly at the fierce blush that creeps up your neck. “Is that not the correct term in Basic?”

You open and close your mouth several times, feel your heartbeat in your ears as your pulse surges hot with a sudden rush of arousal. “It… is,” you say at last. “But, why? I mean, can Chiss and humans even have babies?”

He nods once, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Oh,” you say faintly, as your mind fills with visions of growing round and big with his child, maybe more than once. Of holding tiny bundles in your arms, of the heartbreaking sweetness of tiny blue hands and fingers and soft, wispy ink-black hair. Wide red eyes glowing up at you from little faces. And Thrawn there, always, gathering you into his family, keeping you safe and close at his side. Once or twice would never be enough for him. He’ll want you constantly, he’ll keep you filled and dripping, and always sated. You swallow hard, then take a few shaky breaths. “I… yes. Please.”

Something fierce comes over him then. He takes you in his arms, bears you down on the bed with a deep, claiming kiss. His mouth is hot on yours, his tongue sweeps in, parting your lips, and he brings a hand up to tangle in your hair.

“Yes,” he repeats between kisses, his accent getting a little less cultured, a little further from the usual cool, modulated tone, “yes, you need this, little one.”

The familiar term of endearment sounds much less innocent now, though it never fails to rouse you, to make you press closer to him in seeking to unravel that knot of tension in your core.

He is still commanding and maddeningly confident. He takes in your reaction with a knowing smile as if he expected nothing less. “You need to be bred. I’ve waited far too long.”

The word, again, makes your heart skip. Makes you hopeful, and lightheaded with need. You hadn’t dared to imagine, before this, that your association with Thrawn could be anything other than temporary. Except now he’s marking you. Now he’s kissing along your jaw, your neck, sucking a bruising kiss there on the sensitive skin too high for your collar to hide. Even before you start to show, everyone will see. It will confirm what the crew of the Chimaera have been whispering about for months. Grand Admiral Thrawn has a little pet. And he intends to keep you.

He has you bare in a moment, rucking your dress up past your stomach and then pulling the straps down to expose your breasts. He likes to watch them as he bounces you on his cock.

You arch to his touch, squirming, desperate for more. Aching to know what it will feel like soon, when they get tender, when your body changes and ripens.

“It will be a lot,” he tells you. “When I fill you up, there will be too much to hold inside you.” He sounds a little breathless at the idea, dizzy at the possibility. You can already feel the hard line of his erection pressed against your hip, and he’s grinding slowly, winding the thread of your desire tighter turn by turn.

He still hasn’t answered-- “why?” Your breath hitches as he reaches down, undoes his button and zip. “Why do you want to…?” Why now?

But it seems to be some instinct Thrawn himself hasn’t quite come around to understanding, though he is beholden to it. The urge to fuck his seed into you until you’re swollen with it, filled to bursting. To keep you barefoot and domesticated and your thighs always sticky with his cum, a testament to his virility.

“There is a phrase in Cheunh. Che’o euhn cabpen.”

“Che’o…My…?” He’s rubbing the head of his cock along the seam of your pussy. Slick, sliding in the wet. You can’t think, can’t get the words from your limited Cheunh.

You steady yourself with your palms against his chest. He hasn’t bothered to take off his uniform. Almost never does. He is broad and strong underneath the pristine white wool.

“My little wife,” he translates, his voice low and raw. He spreads your legs wider, hands on the backs of your thighs, pushes your knees to your shoulders so you’re wide and open. All for him.

Another time, he would get on his elbows and luxuriate in tasting you, press lewd, open-mouthed kisses to your clit. He doesn’t have the patience now. He notches his stiff cock at your entrance and sinks in with a sigh. His glowing red eyes drop closed for a moment. His control over himself is tenuous, and already starting to slip.

You whine at the sting, clenching around him. He groans, and rocks in further, and again. His thick length stretches your pussy, inch by inch until his hips are flush with yours. He opens his eyes.

“Yes, my little wife.” His chest rises and falls with harsh breaths. “Once it takes, you will bear that title, among the Chiss.”

Once it takes, you’ll give him a legacy. The thought of it is intoxicating and powerful. It draws a shiver of desire up your spine, makes you feel just how big he is inside you, how firm and strong he is holding you down as he splits you open. His thrusts deepen, get rougher. He makes you take more, his balls slapping heavily against your ass. Words-- Cheunh and Basic-- tumble from his mouth. One you hear over and over--

“Cssut’sahn?” You ask.

Thrawn’s eyes snap to yours. “Tight,” he gasps. “So-- so tight--” he breaks off with a growl and orders you to touch your clit, he lapses to Cheunh and back again, need to feel you cum. Your fingers find slickness and relief. Close. You circle the spot in time with his driving strokes, everything gripping tighter and tighter and you’re gasping his name. The need to be fucked and filled and owned, the need to be bred, all coalesce to a bright, singular pleasure. It floods your body, making you ripple and flutter around his thick length and then he’s following you. You feel hot spurts of his cum pumping into you, filling you up and overflowing, just like he’d promised. So much of it. It leaks out but he doesn’t stop, he moans and wraps his arms around you, his hips still rolling slowly.

He stays like that for a time, then pulls back so he can look at your belly. He puts a hand flat there on the soft skin, quiet and intent. When he eases his cock out of your pussy it makes a slick sound and then you feel a gush of his cum after. It drips out, down your pussy and ass, onto the sheets. Thrawn watches with fascination and an odd gleam in his glowing red eyes. He scoops some with his fingers and pushes two of them into your oversensitized, dripping hole.

“Thrawn--” it’s too much, your body clamps down and tries to push him out, which makes more of his cum ooze out, coating his hand.

“You’ll need to relax, little one, if I’m to breed you properly.” His voice is again cool and soft. Amused at how pliant you are at his touch.

You moan helplessly at the thought of taking him again. But that is what he’s going to do. He takes pity on you, prepares you, gives you a second orgasm, his fingers stroking inside you at a decadent pace, milking slickness from your pussy. Just as you’re cresting, he dips his head, gives your clit a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss and makes a low, feral sound as you come on his face. While you’re shuddering and whimpering, twitching away from his touch when it overwhelms you, he rises. He buries his cock in the slippery mess of your pussy with one deep thrust, and somehow he feels even bigger than the first time. Thicker and harder. He stuffs you to the brim, setting a hard, deliberate rhythm. Soon, with a stream of more Cheunh, he’s pressing into you deep, his cock twitching and flexing as he pants against your neck.

“It’s important that I fuck you often,” he murmurs, his face pressed to your skin. “Every few hours, until the seeding takes. I know you are sore…” But he only lets you rest for a minute. When you are too tired to keep your thighs open, he turns you over, takes you from behind, pounding into you rough and fast. And when your legs give out, he holds you up, pulling your hips to his, the obscene, erotic sound of flesh on flesh filling the small stateroom. Several times throughout the day, his comm chimes and he has to leave you. He buttons up his uniform, adjusting his rank plaque so it isn’t crooked, and leaves you there on his bed. His toy. He doesn’t have to restrain you or lock the door. You stay, sated and docile, until he gets back. His little wife. The words play over in your head.

You say them back to him when he returns and he allows you an indulgent smile. He enjoys the way you look right now, you can tell. He is more permissive, more attentive than he’s ever been. You feel treasured and delicate, like some particular rare piece in his collection. He turns you over on your back, taking in the sight of you. Your face flushed, eyes glassy with desire, your thighs pink and sticky, pussy swollen and dripping from a whole day of stimulation. He soothes his fingers along your slit, catching more of his spend and pushing it back in. He gives you one last soft, lazy orgasm, coaxing you higher and higher until you’re shuddering, rolling your hips up to his mouth. He speaks more in Cheunh, as if you understand it. You catch a little bit. Him telling you it feels good, doesn’t it, little one. It feels so good for you, to be filled up, to have all my cum inside you.

What you don’t understand now, you’ll learn. You’ll hear it in sweet little voices, you’ll sing it in lullabies. It feels almost taboo to imagine, a vision of years from now, of Thrawn with his temples entirely grey, his white uniform and rank plaque folded in a box somewhere. All his battles won. And you’ll sit with him in a quiet, sunny room and listen as he tells stories to your children.

☆ oh shit tag list i almost forgot ☆

but there is only one :)

@crosshairs-wife

#thrawn #thrawn x reader #thrawn x you #thrawn fic #thrawn fanfiction #grand admiral thrawn

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cambion-companion · 6 months

Text

Crystalline Moments Part 1/2(SFW)

Hi!! It's been too long since I wrote a reader x Thrawn drabble. I just...adore him. Obviously, and the announcement for the new comics really just stoked the fire. Enjoy some rainy evening with Thrawn reading to you next to the fireplace, before things get a little heated. Listen, I don't control these things, just write them down LOL Hence there will be a NSFW part 2.

Word count: 850

THRAWN X READER | Drabble

You leaned your head against Thrawn’s chest, listening to the rain thrumming against the roof. Your legs rested across his lap, his arm snugly holding them against his warm body as he read to you. His voice was soft, almost hypnotic, lulling your mind into a comfortable haze.

“My dear, are you still paying attention?” Thrawn squeezed your calf gently, coaxing you to open your eyes again.

“Hmm?” You stifled a yawn behind the back of your hand and gave him a sleepy smile. “Yes, of course. Our protagonist was just writing a letter about his current dire circumstances.”

Thrawn gave you a tender smile, his eyes glowing soft as embers of the fireplace. “Almost.” His smile turned a bit teasing. “If my cadence is too much to withstand, we may continue this at a later time.” He propped the book open upon your knee to demonstrate; his long fingers then lacing with yours and bringing the back of your hand to his lips in a chaste kiss.

You hummed softly in pleasure, your eyes lidding slightly as he continued placing soft kisses to each of your knuckles. “Perhaps I will brew us some tea?”

“And deprive me of your warmth, my darling?” Thrawn’s cinder eyes wandered over your blanket-swaddled form, he carefully set the book aside and tugged your body closer until you almost sat on his thigh.

You couldn’t suppress the giggle his sudden movement elicited. You leaned forward and touched the tip of your nose against his, closing your eyes when he reciprocated and pressed his forehead to yours. “I love you, and I love this time we can steal together.”

The rain above began to thrum with a steadier beat, intermingling with the sound of your breaths as they deepened and synchronized. You pressed your lips to his, savoring the familiar comfort of having Thrawn in your arms.

Thrawn made a pleased sound deep in his throat and his fingers tangled in your hair as he leant into the embrace. When the two of you pulled apart slightly, he admired the red glow from his eyes lighting your cheeks softly.

“I love you.” You whispered; the words almost lost amidst the crackle of the dying fire.

“As I do you.” Thrawn replied without hesitation, the admission came so easy to him now, so naturally.

“Now, I’m going to make us something hot to drink.” You gave him a more playful kiss this time, brief but scorching. “And then you can read more to me.”

Thrawn almost groaned in protest as you withdrew and stood with a slight sway before regaining your balance in the dimly lit room. You gave him a sly grin and held out your hand. “Unless of course you wish to join me in the kitchen.”

“I would never refuse you, my beloved.” Thrawn tilted his head as he read the slightly wanton expression on your face, a slow smile tugging his lips. He took your proffered hand and stood as well, noticing how your lips parted slightly and your pupils dilated as his height towered over your smaller form. “After all, brewing tea is a difficult task.”

“Hmm, yes.” You agreed, leading the way through the darkened hallway. “I certainly require my master tactician’s help in this endeavor.”

You’d barely begun the pretense of retrieving the boiling kettle and sugar from the cupboards before Thrawn moved up behind you. His lips began pressing gentle kisses to the skin of your neck. Your hands faltered slightly in response, fumbling the packet of tea you’d opened. A small gasping laugh left your parted lips as Thrawn’s hands tickled along your sides before he firmly pulled your body back against him.

“Thrawn.” You said his name, almost pleading.

You pressed instinctively back against him, and his teeth scraped against your neck in response, his strong hands tightening their grip on your hips. A small hiss left his mouth, sending chills of anticipation down your spine. “Continue with your task.” He spoke softly into your ear before running his tongue along it, kissing your earlobe. “Don’t allow me to distract you, my love. You were so determined to make us tea.”

“I’m not sure if I can remember how.”

Thrawn laughed softly in response, the deliciously rare sound almost causing you to whimper.

In a fluid motion he swept aside your hair and began kissing and biting the nape of your neck. “Continue.” He murmured, following your movement as you bent over the counter slightly, keeping his body flush to yours.

Your hands shook slightly as you continued unpacking your tea assortment, the floral and herbal notes wafting from the paper pouch. You had trouble filling the kettle with water as Thrawn decided then was the time to begin lifting pushing his hands under your shirt and caressing the sensitive skin at your waist.

You sighed in pleasure and took a moment to straighten up and lean against him, turning your head to give him a searing kiss. This was going to be a delightful night.

#thrawn drabble #thrawn x reader #thrawn x oc #thrawn x you #thrawn x y/n #grand admiral thrawn #thrawn fanfiction #thrawn fic #grand admiral thrawn x reader #mitth'raw'nuruodo #thrawn trilogy friendly #not ahsoka thrawn friendly #thrawn fluff #will be eventual smut

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davesrightshoe · 2 months

Text

Corrected

Thrawn x Y/N (18+!)

cw: spanking, fingering, general mdom, inappropriate workplace dynamics

Authors Note: ahh.. so it was my birthday this weekend and I wanted to share a bit of Thrawn with y'all. This is the first smut one shot I've ever written so I'm pretty embarrassed but my friends gave me some IRL exposure therapy. I hope y'all enjoy!

You stood in front of the metallic doors of Thrawn’s office. Alone on the upper floors of the Chimera, the only sounds you heard were the ambient hum of a ship traveling across the galaxy and the nervous beating of your own heart. Your daily anxiety had spiked when you had checked your data pad near the end of your shift to find an urgent summons from the Grand Admiral. The note had held very few details, and it hadn’t been the first time he had asked for a private meeting. But this time, you knew you were in trouble because he had never summoned you to see him this late after hours, preferring to delay the meeting to the next day. You had a feeling that this all had to do with the disastrous morning you had had.

At 9:00 sharp, a delegation of high-ranking Imperial officers had arrived on the Chimera, and you had been tasked with greeting them and welcoming them onboard. Easy enough. What anyone had failed to brief you on was that it wasn’t a typical naval meeting, where Thrawn and some other Admiral would discuss strategies and plan future campaigns. No, instead you had to learn firsthand, as he walked down the shuttle ramp, that today’s esteemed guest was Orson Krennic. Director of a top secret project which you only knew the faint details of. But from the private remarks of Thrawn, you knew he was a pain in the ass to work with, a pompous brat who was too smart for his own good. He also was diverting critical funds from Thrawn’s personal projects which more than angered your Grand Admiral. Whatever he was working on, you doubted it mattered enough to get in the way of the Empire’s most talented naval strategist, but it seemed the Empire didn’t share your opinion.

Walking down, with his white cape flaring around him, he gaudily stepped onto the hanger floor and glared at the surrounding troops. God, he was pretentious. You and a unit of death troopers approached him, coming to a stop a few meters away. Before you had even finished your salute, he asked, “Where’s Thrawn?”

“The Grand Admiral is in his morning meeting with the board officers of the Chimera. He will join us after the tour.”

“Oh, kriff the tour, I came here to talk to Thrawn, and he won’t even meet me, craven bastard. Take me to him now!”

You flinched at the insult to your Admiral. “Sir, he does not wish to be disturbed presently. They are planning key details for our next attack.”

He glared down at me from his impressive stature. He really was a lot taller than you expected for someone everyone called a brat. Well, everyone being Thrawn, and Krennic was shorter than him. Maybe that’s why he hates Admiral Thrawn so much. “Well, I am ordering you, Lieutenant, to take me to him. His attack be damned.”

“Sir, I promise I will take you to him once he has finished. If you wish, we can go directly now to his office, and I will ask for his quick return.”

“I hope I do not have to explain to you the weight a Director has on even naval careers. It would be in your best interest not to keep me waiting. Take me to him at once.”

“Sir, I will speak with him now,” you say, pulling out your data pad and opening a commlink with Thrawn. “Grand Admiral, I’m sorry to interrupt your meeting, but the Director is requesting an immediate meeting with you.”

“Lieutenant,” his sibilant voice poured out the commlink’s speakers, “I am in a meeting with my chief combatants. I specified that we are not to be disturbed.” Even though his voice was as calm as ever, you could hear the warning in his tone. He had given you a clear specification of how this day would go, and you were messing with his plans. And if there was anyone whose plans you should not disrupt, it was most definitely Grand Admiral Thrawn.

“I’m sorry, sir, but he has been most adamant that he wishes for an audience now.” You risked a glance at the Director who stood waiting with crossed arms. All he needed to do was stamp his feet and pout his lip and he’d be the textbook picture of a petulant child.

“Well then, Lieutenant, you must find a way to entertain him until I am finished.” He quickly shut off the line, and you were left in silence with the prissy Director. Gathering a deep breath, you prepared to tell Krennic that he’d have to wait for the Admiral to be done.

“Director, he has clarified that he will not be disturbed. Would you like to accompany me to the Grand Admiral’s office where he will shortly return?” Maker, I hope he accepts this.

“Take me to him now,” he commanded.

“Sir, I cannot he has specified that ---”

“I don’t give a shit what he told you, some junior officer won’t stop me from talking to that bastard” and he stormed off into the main hallway. You ran after him, scrambling for something you could do to stop this from getting worse.

“Sir, if you would just accompany me to Admiral Thrawn’s office, I could arrange for you to ---”

“Is he in his office right now?”

“No, sir.”

“Then take me wherever the kriff he is.”

“Sir, even if I took you there you wouldn’t be able to get in without clearance.” You slid to a halt in the hallway when Director Krennic suddenly turned around and started marching towards you.

“I’m a damn director of the Empire, you think there is anywhere I can’t get in?” He angrily waved a hand around his head. “Every inch of this star destroyer is unrestricted to me. Your Grand Admiral included!”

“I’m sorry, sir, but you wouldn’t be able to enter. Grand Admiral Thrawn is very particular about the security. You need his personal access.”

“Do you have personal access?”

“y… yes,” you stuttered. You really didn’t want to take him to Thrawn after Thrawn had told you to leave him alone, but it wasn’t like you could lie to him.

“Well then, take me to the room, and let me in.” He said it as if it was the simplest thing in the world. As if you weren’t about to go against Thrawn’s explicit command.

“Sir, again, the Admiral told me that he was not to be disturbed.”

“And again, kriff what he said,” he snapped his head to a trooper. “Trooper, do you know where the Grand Admiral is?” The trooper hesitantly nodded. “Good man, now take me there before I have to pry open every door on this blasted ship myself.”

Maker, this was just getting worse and worse.

It hadn’t been very pretty, when the lock doors had opened on the Chimera’s boardroom to reveal you, the Death Troopers, and Director Krennic with your code cylinder in his hand. Thrawn’s eyes had locked on yours, and his dissatisfied and annoyed gaze burned into your soul. You felt deeply ashamed for failing him. And now 12 hours later, you were going to pay the price.

Telling yourself to pull it together, you put your code cylinder into the receiver outside Thrawn’s door. The sound of the door sliding open reminded you of the morning again, bringing an embarrassed flush to your checks.

“I’m glad to see your ashamed of your actions, Lieutenant.” Thrawn sat behind his desk with a displeased look. His frown cut your heart because you knew you had finally disappointed him. Unknown to many, but you actually had a soft spot for the Grand Admiral, and you always worked hard to please him. Only you knew the way your heart flipped when he would spare you a small smile or the rare “Good work, Lieutenant.” It was wrong to feel that way about your superior, but you couldn’t help but admire the talented Grand Admiral. He had a tremendous, ambitious mind, and a strikingly handsome face. Distinctly alien, but handsome nonetheless. But none of that mattered now, you had let him down and it hurt.

“Stand before me, Lieutenant” That was new, he usually told you to sit. Your heart sped up, you weren’t sure where this was going, but you had a bad feeling. You silently nodded and moved to a stiff parade rest before him.

Thrawn stood and moved around his desk to begin slowly pacing circles around you. Once he had reappeared in your sight line, he addressed you. “Have you nothing to say for yourself? I clearly dictated to you that he was not to enter my meeting, and yet you disobeyed me.”

“Sir, I’m deeply sorry, I tried to stop him, but he wouldn’t listen to me. He asked the Death Trooper to show him the board room and then he took my code cylinder. I didn’t intend for him to ---” The words that had rushed so quickly out of your mouth were promptly cut off by Thrawn’s harsh tone.

“Enough, I am not looking for your excuses. Explain to me why you thought it was appropriate to blatantly disobey my orders.”

“I tried sir, I did. But he wanted to speak with you at once.”

“And why did you not bring him to my office to wait? That would have been the prudent thing to do.” The way Thrawn’s eyes cut through you hurt. He now doubted your ability to do a simple task. You had worked so hard to impress him and prove myself as a competent and dependable soldier; his disappointment was shattering.

“Sir, I asked him to accompany me, but he refused and demanded an audience.” But even as you said it, you knew Thrawn wouldn’t accept this. I gave it all away, I should have been smarter.

“And you could not think of anything better? You could have taken him here and told him you would go summon me. He would have been left to his own devices here where he was contained.”

“Sir, I—I’m sorry.”

“I have heard your apologies.” He huffed, “but it will not do. You are my officer, you must learn to manage these situations. I thought you were intelligent enough to serve me.” His red eyes flamed as he berated you for your incompetent handling of the situation. “Did I overestimate your abilities?”

“No sir!” Your voice cracked in panic “I promise I strive only to serve you. I failed you today, but I will do everything in my power to amend my behavior, sir.”

“We shall see.” A sliver of hope bloomed in your chest, was there still a chance for you? “Now, get on your knees.”

“Sir?” You asked, confused. Where was he going with this?

“Oh, dear. Is today to be such a difficult day for you, Lieutenant. I said, get on your knees.” He came up behind you and pressed his hands down on your shoulders until you bent your knees and landed on your kneecaps. “Good. But for the rest of our time together, I would prefer not to repeat myself. Am I understood?”

“Yes, sir,” you were shaken. You had no idea what was going on. This reminded you of some of your more illicit nighttime fantasies, but Thrawn was never this angry or commanding. You always imagined him as strict but with a loving hand.

“Very well. Then we may begin” He removed his hands from your shoulders, and they burned from his contact. “What did I specify to you about today’s meeting?”

“You said not to disturb you, sir.”

“Yes, and then why was I disturbed?”

“I—I, I didn’t follow your orders, sir.”

“Correct, you let that ass interrupt my briefing.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” you were starting to tear up. All the anxiety and stress from the day was starting to catch up with you, and you couldn’t handle Thrawn’s displeasure with you right now. You just wanted to make it all better and go back to being his perfect assistant. “Please, sir, let me make it up to you. I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Oh, do not fret, my dear, we shall see about that.” He pushed a hand into your hair, grasping the back of your head and pushing gaze down at the floor. He crouched down, bringing his mouth a centimeter from your ear. “As it is, I think you should pay with your ass, as they say, ‘an eye for an eye’.”

You jumped turning to look at him, but he was faster, tightening his grip on your hair and keeping your eyes pinned on the ground. He tsked. “Ah, no, Lieutenant, you must be good and accept your punishment. Did you not just say you wanted to ‘make it up to me.’ Now, listen well and do as I say, or else I will be very displeased.” Hearing Thrawn’s words over you brought goosebumps to your skin. You couldn’t believe he was really saying this to you.

“Yes, sir.” Your voice came out hoarsely, even if you were brave enough to admit it, a bit husky.

“Good Girl. Now get over my desk.”

Your core throbbed. This was like every sick fantasy combined together and you weren’t sure if you could take it all, but at the same time you would die if it stopped.

“I think fifteen will be enough to reinforce for you the importance of obeying your Grand Admiral. Do you agree, ch'otcavurt in'a?”

“Yes, sir.” You were starting to wonder if this day was just a horrifyingly realistic dream, a figment of your unconscious psyche that had begun to unravel after so many years of a high stress and low sleep environment.

“Good, let us begin.” He unbuckled her belt and pulled down her regulation trousers to expose her underwear. Embarrassed, she tightened her grip on the edge of the desk and braced for it to begin. But instead of a harsh sting, she was rewarded with the soft touch of his hands as he slid her panties down. Only the extended edge of her tunic covered her bare ass. Her nerves felt like they were riding the razer edge of the fabric covering her from flashing Thrawn.

“We can’t let this get in the way,” he said, folding the tunic over and removing the final protection of her dignity.

You jumped at the initial strike, gasping from the shock and pain. Definitely not a dream! “Shhh be still, this is a punishment.” You took deep breaths trying to prepare yourself for the next blow, but even as it came you knew you were done for. You doubted he was using his entire strength, even still the sharp sting threw off your concentration. All thoughts of Krennic and the morning were shoved away, as you lay in nervous anticipation of the next blow.

Thrawn took his time, giving you ample opportunity to tense and untense your muscles before his eventual slap came. He varied the location and pressure, not wanting you to acclimate to the punishment. The fourth strike brought out a pained groan. And on the seventh Thrawn gave you a particularly hard smack to your right cheek. You openly moaned.

“Are you enjoying this, Lieutenant?” You couldn’t see his face, but you had a suspicion he was smirking. You ground your forehead into the desk and pulled yourself together to respond.

“No, sir,” you strained to keep your voice even, despite how desperately you wanted to start begging him to fuck you.

“Wrong choice, Lieutenant, that’s another added for lying.” He brought down his hand to give you a matching red handprint on your left ass cheek. And then you heard something that took your breath away. Thrawn groaned. “That’s right, Ch'itses'o bustucah, take your punishment. Your ass is so beautiful with my hand printed on it. Like a painting. I should take a photo and hang it above my desk.” His hand went down your back, massaging your sore behind. “Ahh, but no photo would be worthy, as I have seen the original print.” He chuckled at his own joke and smacked you again.

You hissed and pushed your ass back towards him, openly inviting him to continue his onslaught. “Now this is very encouraging. My disobedient brat is eager for her correction. Only a few more until all is forgiven.” And the air was filled with the staccato slaps of Thrawn’s hand on your flesh. The last blow he aimed at your left check, leaving a flush red handprint in its wake.

But just as quickly as they had rained down smacks, his hands dropped to softly caress and soothe the sore skin on your backside. “Hush now, Ch’eo visahot, you did very well. Let your Grand Admiral take care of you.” His calming words soothed your nerves, as your body fought the wave of endorphins and adrenaline which the spanking had raised in you. Your mind was at rest, and all of your stress and anxiety was replaced by a quiet contented buzz. After a few minutes, his massaging and gentle support had you fighting the weighted pull of sleep. “Come here, darling, stand up now. You deserve to rest on something softer than my desk.” Thrawn’s hands slipped under your hips encouraging you to put your weight on him as he guided you around his desk and to sit on his lap in his armchair.

You hissed at the contact of your sore ass with his thigh. The softness of his chest though encouraged you to lean your back into him. He wrapped an arm around your waist and stroked your upper thigh, which twitched in response at the proximity of his hand to your cunt. With his ever observant eyes, your nervous convulsion didn’t escape him, and he repeated the action. You turned your face towards him to find a smirk resting on his lips. “Would you like me to stop, Besbi.”

“No,” you whispered, turning your face back to watch as his hand crept up your thigh till he stopped at the apex of your legs. He waited there stroking small up and down trails, working you up but never giving you exactly what you wanted.

“What did you say? You must speak louder,” he intoned, his hand never straying from his teasing motions.

“Please don’t stop,” you managed to say without stuttering. Thrawn rewarded you by finally swiping a finger across your folds. The contact stole a whimper from your lips. He answered you, by deepening his contact, swirling his thumb over your clit before plunging his fingers into you. Your gasp was accompanied by his groan as you clenched around his fingers.

The alternatively curled and twisted his hand to stimulate you. A quick study, he learned how to draw out loud moans from you within minutes. Soon you were writhing on his lap, completely heedless of the pain from your spanking. Thrawn praised you, telling you how beautiful you looked on his fingers. The combination of his words and actions pushed you to your release. Your climax came quickly, with you gasping his name.

Turning your boneless body around, Thrawn pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Ch'itt'teehah ch'eo ch'acah”. Without thinking too hard about the impropriety of the entire situation, you slipped your arms around his neck and laid your head on his chest. You didn’t know if you could think about anything too hard at that moment, completely drained as you were. Thrawn let you take your time to recover, gently drawing circles into your back and whispering Cheunh phrases to lull you to sleep.

Dividers from @cafekitsune

#thrawn x reader #thrawn x you #thrawn fanfiction #thrawn #davesrightshoe #thrawn smut

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