#thrawn x reader

"Fixing a rip." You smile at him, refocusing on the white garment.

"A rip?" He asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah… It's in the interior of the jacket, on the back. Here. See?" You flatten the fabric, pointing out where the delicate fabric started to tear.

He brushes it with the pads of his fingers, almost surprised.

"I did not realize it." He declares, deep in his thoughts.

"Oh well, I have an eye for that. I spotted it this morning while reorganizing our dressing." You shrug, finishing your sewing, sitting cross-legged on your lil kitchenette's stool.

"I should have spotted it." He simply points with the faintest hint of disappointment.

"Thrawn, you have the entire Chimaera to run, answer to the Emperor, deal with Lord Vador, those fools Krennic and Ronan, and even this…" You shiver, thinking about the man, "With Tarkin." You settle for cautious politeness. "You have other worries than a rip."

"I thought Tarkin was siding with my Defender Program and therefore with me?" Thrawn takes his hand off the garment to drop his gym bag near the entrance, taking off his boots in the comfort of the private Grand Admiral suite.

"He is only siding with you to…" You let out a sigh, tired, "Never mind. You're right, he is siding with you at the moment. But it won't last. Keep that in mind, love, please…"

"I will." He assures you.

You keep picking the fabric, closing the rip gradually, when you feel your fiancé pressing himself behind your back, his arms hugging your shoulders in a tender touch he only allows himself in the privacy of your room.

You smirk, indulging in his embrace as he presses his cheek to yours, observing your careful work, his thumbs brushing your shoulders.

"Mmmmh, feeling cuddly tonight?" You playfully ask.

"It is because of you, ch'eo Ch'acah…" He hums in your ear.

"Of me?" You snort, "Why is that, my good sir?"

"I do not know myself. Simply seeing you there, hard at work for me late in the evening…"

"I work for you, Thrawn. I work late hours every week!" You can't help but laugh.

"This feels… Different. Returning in the suit, knowing you will be here waiting for me. I anticipate your welcome hugs. I inhale your scent right at the door. I know you are inside, busy with something…"

"Domestic?"

"Yes." He approves, "Domestic."

He inhales deeply, his nose in the crook of your neck, before sighing with pleasure.

"I am not used to that. I feel protected. Taken care of."

Your smile slightly falters at his words. You turn your face to lovingly kiss his blue cheek, holding softly the other with your palm.

"I love you, Thrawn. I am here to protect and take care of you. As long as I live, you'll always have a place to return to..."

"And it brings me great peace knowing it, Ch'acah. I must ensure your safety and well-being as devotedly as you are mending my jacket."

"It's almost done." You peck his cheek once more, and your gaze returns to your needle.

He keeps still, holding you gently as you finish sewing dutifully, feeling the heat on your cheeks that your man, Grand Admiral Thrawn, is looking at your fingers working on his Official Garment so intently. And slowly, his purr starts rising in the silence of the room, craddling you in warmth.

You giggle when he reassures his grip on you, pressing you tighter as he tenderly kisses your neck, and-

"Ouch!" You take your finger away immediately, a pearl of blood already beading at your fingertip, "Crap…"

"Ch'acah? Let me see." He demands, gently raising your hand to his face to observe the wound better.

"It's nothing, just a little prick."

"A prick that could get infected. Come."

You let him take you to the bathroom to take out the Bactagel container and a small dressing strip from the cupboard. He opens the faucet and put your finger under it while he grabs some disinfectant.

You let him clean and dress your wound, which doesn’t need the level of care he is giving, and allow yourself to enjoy his attentions on you. Him always distant and stern on the Bridge, always so busy, still finds the energy to worry and care for you.

You just love that man so Maker damn much!

"Why are you smiling, Ch'eo (Y/n)?" He asks, raising his eyes from your hand, bandaging your finger.

"Nothing." You feel it stretch wider.

"Does it hurt?"

"Not at all. Thanks, love."

"It is nothing." He contemplates your hand in his, smaller in comparison.

And lifts it up to kiss the medic strip carefully, like he feared you were made of fragile glass. You open your mouth agape in surprise, the faintest gasp escaping your lips.

"Sorry, I wanted to be of comfort. Was it unbecoming?" He inquires, his burning jewels on you, pressing your hand oh so tenderly, his emotions swirling with worries to have crossed a limit.

"No. Not at all." You promise him.

And to prove it, you close the gap between you two, cupping his face with your free hand, and press your lips to his. It is casual and a bit messy, but you'd be damned if it didn't feel like ecstasy. Even his worst kiss feels better than the best of your exes, leaving you parched for more, thirsty for his lips, and hungry for his touch.

And…

You get the feeling he is getting the same idea. He releases your hand to hug you, sliding his hands under your shirt to explore your back, brushing the hem of your bra, tapping the clips holding it closed. You circle his neck and grab a fistful of his blue-black hair to pull him down against you, prisoner of your grip.

You mewl in the kiss, enjoying yourself thoroughly, titillating his desire with moans you know he loves to hear from you. One of his hands abandons your back to travel south, getting a feel of the hem of your pants before entering it to grab one cheek by the handful. You cheekily giggle, pecking his lips a final time before caressing the side of his face.

He presses his cheek in your palm, like he failed to realise he was finally safe, here, in your embrace, after all those years of uncertainty…

"I want you, Thrawn."

"I desire you too, Ch'acah." He kisses your palm, his hand holding your hips to keep you close, "Can we…?"

"Why do you think I am telling you that, silly Chiss? Come with me."

He follows you silently, his large hand in yours, holding on for dear life. The bedroom door barely has the time to close on you two, he seizes your hips to make you spin and captures your lips greedily, embracing you tightly against his muscular body. He groans and purrs in the kiss, caressing your back and holding your head with a solid, yet delicate, fistful of hair, while you grab onto his tank top to pull him closer.

Like it was even possible to be even closer than that.

Yet you want him so much closer. You want him deep in you, like he could slide in and take residence under your skin. Being one at last…

He keeps advancing, making you walk backward, until the back of your knees hit the bed, making you lose balance and fall on top of the mattress. You look up at him from your station, while he looks down at you.

Still.

Towering over you like a storm cloud, his flaming red jewels glowing so much more in contrast to the light behind him, giving him a halo, sculpting his athletic body in pure, raw light.

He gets rid of his black top, throwing it in a corner of the room as he puts a knee on the mattress, before hovering over your lying form with a brooding expression you know so little of.

"Is something wrong, Thrawn?" You ask gently, raising your hand to cup his cheek, as the light of his eyes dims ever so little.

"If something ever happened to you… I truly do not know what I would do." He reveals, standing on his palm on each side of your head, sinking into the fluffy covers.

"You will go on. Like you always do." You simply answer, knowing it to be true.

Both of you knowing it.

"But should I not stop? Cease all course of action and mourn?"

You contemplate him, at a loss for words.

"You should indeed. Take time for yourself and rest until you feel better… But we both know you won't, don't we?"

"Is it… Bad?" He barely gulps.

"It is how you are. And I love you for yourself. Not any other man."

"Sometimes I wish I could stop time to enjoy and truly savor my blessing to be with you. Be able to wear a ring on my finger like any married man."

"Then stop time with me tonight, Love. Enjoy me and my love in our sheets. We don't need rings, only each other."

He kisses your palm, his gaze getting resolute like you always knew him.

"You are correct, Ch'acah, as always." And he lowers himself to kiss you again.

He cages you under his large body, his swollen pecs squeezing your boobs, his lips exploring yours like a conqueror.

A love conqueror.

You part your lips to meet his tongue with yours and taste him after so long. Not to say you are dissatisfied with your sex and love life, but you are both high officers, and even if you live in the same suite, your schedules can be so different.

So you enjoy those too-rare moments to the fullest while you can. As he does.

You bite his lower lip as his hands slide under your shirt to graze your waist and ribcage, barely brushing the cups of your bra like a modest man.

Modest, but not prude. You know better than that.

To your most perverted pleasure, Thrawn has his own deviancies that you enjoy fulfilling to see him roll his eyes in his head, mouth agape in a mute moan of ecstasy between your thighs.

Like breeding. A thing that has a real chokehold on your Chiss.

He leaks from his tip at the mere idea of getting you pregnant and heavy with his baby, ensuring his genetic material survival in a deep-rooted Chiss obsession they inherited from near total extinction after their sun died millennia ago, freezing their home planet.

His breath shortens, and his bulge thickens at the mere mention of you two becoming parents.

And you enjoy teasing him about that weakness of his, you'll admit it. You are not that innocent either, and if entertaining his cravings ensures you his attention and love for a moment, you're not above playing with his nerves and desires.

You always wanted children yourself, but no man was ever good enough to even seriously entertain the idea. Until you met your Husband.

Your Chiss.

Your Ch'acah.

You explore his wide chest with your greedy hands, rediscover his abs, claw his strong back, and grip his buff arms, enjoying his bigger stature as it deserves.

You always loved your men taller and athletic, and Thrawn delivers in this department.

He parts from you to help you get rid of your shirt, joining his own on the floor, before hooking your bra's straps to get it out of his way, gaining access to your womanly curves. He immediately captures one of your tit in his mouth, massaging the other with his large hand.

He sucks and suckles your tit, hollowing his cheeks, letting his tongue cross and lather your round mound to his heart's content. He never expressed any desire for your breasts to be bigger or smaller, like some of your exes commented; he enjoys them just as they are, reveling in their weight in his palms and their size in his mouth.

You undulate under him, caressing his neck and back as he honors your breasts, moaning for his pleasure, feeling your panties getting wetter and wetter by the second. He laps your tit with the flat of his tongue before drumming your nipple with his dart teasingly. He gives a last kiss to this one and turns to the other for the same treatment.

You feel some drool rolling down the hill of your breasts as he gives them his all, as everything he ever does. You mewl your impatience, squirming under him, trying to grind your hips against his to signal him to give your poor pussy some love, too.

He gets the memo, kneading your peaks a last time before kissing his way down your stomach like a beather would graze your skin.

So soft

So teasing

So much torture from your man!

You want him hard and deep in you already! But again, you know better.

Thrawn learned the ropes of love with you, and you taught him to be thorough, and he is nothing if not a dedicated student.

You growl for him to hurry now, but you know in five minutes you'll be begging for him to have mercy on you… And isn't all the fun, really?

He reaches your pants and takes a long lick at your Venus mound before opening your pants and pulling them off of you, getting rid of your shoes on the same occasion. You readjust your position and align yourself with the bed while he stands up to take off his pants and boots, leaving himself in his now way too tight boxer, trying to hold his erection inside without tearing, the fabric deliciously displaying a wet spot.

You growl your hunger, biting your finger while you eye your Chiss up and down immodestly, hurrying to join you and quicker than that, please.

He chuckles at your impatience as he joins you, lying on his toned stomach between your open thighs, kissing them reverently before hooping your panties' hem to let it slap your tummy, making you yelp in desperation.

"You are already so wet and dripping." He notes with satisfaction.

"Who's fault is that, silly Chiss. You are hard like stone!"

"And who's fault it might be, silly human. You make my head spin with your fertile scent. My mouth waters at the thought of tasting you again…"

"Then hurry up, I am at my wits' end! I can't wait anymore!" You complain.

You just want him deep inside of you after those weeks of forced celibacy. You crave his love and body on yours.

He looks straight into your eyes as he takes a lick at your inner thigh, toward your burning core, making you breathe through your nose, digging your nails in the sheet. He sniggers and presses his lips to your panties for a wet kiss, making his lips 'pop' with a devilish grin.

You moan, your thighs tensing in his hands while he tenderly kisses your covered cunt, enjoying himself and your reactions. He hooks the panties and slides them to the side, revealing your pussy to his hungry eyes at last.

He wastes no time and buries his nose in your pubes to take a big whiff of your sexual pheromones, titillating his more sensitive Chiss nose, picking up on your female pheromones, to his delight. He lets out a sigh of satisfaction before kissing your folds once more, without the fabric barrier. He lazily kisses them, occasionally torturing you with a quick lick with the dart of his tongue, making a mess out of you.

But he loves sex messy, and the wetter and messier you are, the more satisfied he is.

He lathers your pussy with his drool, conscienciously licking you up and down, making sure no part of your labia is forgotten. He works you up so easily, a mere twist of his finger or an inflexion of his deep voice makes you drip and crawl to him, like you were in heat.

And he indulges himself.

Yet, he's the one bending the knee, praying at the altar of your love, with you as his goddess and your body as his holiest relic.

Grand Admiral no more in those sheets, but a mere Chiss desperate for love and warmth, drinking the wine at the fountain of your lips, seeking his salvation between your thighs, humping the covers while devoting himself to you.

He secures your legs on his shoulders, gropping your thighs by the handful to ensure you are locked down in his grip as he feasts on your vulnerable pussy after months of unwilling chastity. He laves at your folds, getting acquainted with them again before trailing your slit up and down with the dart of his tongue, flicking your nervous bud with devious delight, admiring your shuddering at the mere brush of his wet limb on your pearl.

"I missed your taste on my tongue, Ch'eo (Y/n). You deprived me of you for so long, always drinking with your colleagues." He lets you know with a groaned sigh.

"You also neglected me! All those nights in your office for months… Heartless!" You retort with the steadiest voice you can muster while your Chiss relish on your cunt, way harder than it seems.

"We are both at fault, it seems. We should apologize to each other the entire night." He growls, making love to your pussylips and clit, lips smacking and tongue twisting, "I do not intend to let you go before you ease my worries and urges."

"I'll hold you on to that…!" You gasp as he gently nibbles your bud, "Now hurry…! I.. I can't wait much longer...!"

He tenderly bites the soft bundle of nerves, makes it roll between his lips, sucking on it like a lollipop, making you wet like a fountain, drenching his chin and the sheets.

You whine and struggle in his grasp, your thighs trembling as he sloppily plays with your cunt, alternating short and quick licks and long and slow laps with the flat of his tongue, his eyes right on you, burning your skin with their flames. Your core muscles quiver as your tight entrance gaps under his skillful attention.

You can hear him drink your slick out loud with his loud purr, quenching his thirst for you with your purest essence. Goosebumps appear all over your body, your organism reacting to the sweetest torture of all, your toes curling tight with each ministration. He focuses solely on your clit now, pushing your buttons and limits, observing how far he can take things before shattering you.

Your pussy gorges itself with blood, getting thicker and fluffier in preparation, while you leak out all over your man's mouth, to his greatest pleasure. Your core tightens and quivers quicker and quicker until, with a fateful flick of his tongue, a last drum on your pearl, you come undone on his tongue.

You mewl his name out loud, seeing stars behind your closed eyelids while you violently squirt into his mouth, your entire body tensing up, caging his handsome head between your thighs. He lets you come down, licking and kissing you consciously, pressing his cheeks against the meat of your inner thigh, nibbling it lovingly.

Your body finally relaxes, releasing his head and easing the pressure on his neck and shoulders.

"Ravishing, Ch'eo Ch'acah. Simply ravishing." He licks his lips gluttonously, his red eyes burning bright, illuminating your naked skin in a red hue, "I was long overdue to honor your body. Now, I need to feel you all around me."

You pant, taking back your breath as you slowly find your marks back in the bedroom after that ascension, and when you reopen your eyes, you see him hovering right over you, almost menacingly.

Yet you know, you are perfectly safe with him in all matters of things.

"Do you have a preference, tonight, Ch'acach?" He sussures with his deep, melodic voice that makes you melt so easily on the bridge.

"Mmmmh no… Do you? I always chose the position, don't you want to try one for once?" You offer, feeling heat spreading on your cheeks to be observed this close by this handsome man.

His gaze lowers to the side slightly, thinking about it for a short moment.

"I want to hold you tight, love."

"A classic missionary, then ?" You smile.

"No. Roll on your stomach and open your thighs, please." He demands softly, kissing your cheek.

You obey, grabbing a pillow to place under your chin to be comfortable. You shiver and giggle with anticipation under your breath as you feel his fat tip poking at your pussy, trailing your folds to mix your slick and his pre-cum. He pushes in just the very tip and takes it back, only dipping his crown in your soaked juices.

It makes the most obscenely wet noises you've ever heard from your tender flesh.

"Do you hear? She is giving me kisses." He whispers lewdly in the arch of your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

"It's a bit… Embarrassing to hear how wet I am." You laugh at yourself, a bit flustered and shy all of a sudden.

For sure, you were never this wet for any of your exes before. Thrawn has a chokehold on you like none before him.

"I take it as the greatest compliment, Ch'acah. You should not be ashamed to desire your lover this much. I feel no shame in craving your skin on mine…" He soothes you, biting your ear with a snigger, pleased with you, "Your dripping cunt choking my cock so hard I could pass out... Breeding you to my heart's content, enjoying you squirming under me, begging for more of me."

"Me… Meany…!" You playfully mock, gasping as he starts pushing his length fully inside of your tight entrance.

Oof! Each time you think it will get easier, each time he reminds you Chiss' and Humans' bodies are built differently. Thrawn is tall and large, even for his kin, and you can't do much more than keep your thighs open and pray he doesn't destroy your poor body.

He tuts you.

"Do not give me the attitude, Ch'acah. I know you dream of me ravishing you, you speak while you sleep." He lets you know with an audible smirk in his voice, even if you cannot see his face.

"I spea…? What?!'

He purrs louder, kissing the back of your neck as he keeps pushing it slowly, splitting you in two with his girth shaft, making your heart race in preparation.

"Yes, Ch'acah. I have a first row seat to an orgasmic performance. This is a delight to listen to your trembling voice begging me to finish inside… This is so tantalizing, I sometimes simply must join in the fun too."

"Oh dear Maker…" You whine, bashful.

Of course, you dream about your Chiss pounding you, especially when you rarely see him for an extended period, but does he have to tell it to your face with that smug, satisfied tone? Can't a woman fantasize about her man at night in peace now?

"Don't trouble yourself, Ch'eo (Y/n)." He sussures softly, caressing your arm up with his hand until he intertwines your fingers tightly, locking you with him, "I love that for us. I take pride in you still desiring me after all those years together. I love that you spare thoughts for me even in your sleep. This is so endearing and… Indecent." He kisses your shoulder to your neck before taking a long lap at your sweaty skin, "Salty… So full pheromones… So tasty I could eat you up in one bite, Ch'eo Ch'acah."

He finally sits fully inside, weighing your tummy down with how heavy and hard he is. He stuffs you so full, it chases all the air out of your lungs, and you can feel each vein and ridge with excruciating precision, molding your fluffy flesh to his measurements.

He hums his pleasure, keeping your hand locked with his, as he lies down on top of you, crushing you under the weight of his muscles, shielding you from the rest of the world in this intimate cocoon you share in secret from the rest of the Empire.

"I can feel your heartbeat through my tip, (Y/n). Do you realize how tight you have to be for that?" He keeps teasing with his sultry voice.

Fuck! The amount of time you got wet listening to orders on the bridge, and he knows this is your weakness! He uses it against you mercilessly.

"I'm not that ti-tight…!" You protest, gasping for air, feeling your body slowly, very slowly relaxing around his length, "It's you who are just stupidly big, you… Chiss!"

"Am I, now? Well, thank you again for your compliment, my dear." He laughs as you so obviously struggle to accommodate him in you, as always, "No matter who is what, as long as it works for us, don't you think, Ch'acah…?" He nuzzles his nose in the crook of your neck, purring softly.

He presses his lips on your skin like butterfly wings, waiting for you to get more comfortable to start moving. He knows how hard it is for you each time, and he hates the idea of causing you pain.

You pant out loud, digging the nails of your free hand into the fluff of the pillow under your chin, while he gently caresses a strand of hair behind your ear, kissing it lovingly.

"For so long, I thought this kind of… Domestic bliss was forbidden to me." He says barely above a whisper, hugging you tight, resting his chin on your shoulder, "I thought that… I would end my life alone. Far from home and my kins."

"Really…?" You ask softly, not wanting to refrain this, oh so rare, surge of vulnerability from your Chiss.

He hums a confirmation, grazing your skin with the tip of his nose, loving his face in your warmth.

"Yes. But the Warrior had it that I met you in this Empire. And suddenly, nothing was as certain for me anymore. Verities and Principles I held close to me became suddenly foreign and outdated. I craved to know you better, to know your line of thoughts and morals, to entangle your mind with mine. And you accepted me at your side despite all that I've done. And I am eternally thankful to you for giving me a chance of learning happiness with you."

You cannot help but laugh a bit at that, before coughing it up to stop.

"…You? 'You' are thankful to 'Me'?"

"Yes. Is it hard to believe?"

"I, huh… A bit, yes."

"I was trembling at night, hoping you would accept me as I truly am, in all my… peculiarity. And limitations." He opens up, a minuscule hint of tension in his voice.

"If it is of any comfort, Thrawn… I was doing the same. Hoping I'd have a chance with you and not get my heart crushed to dust. So, when you proposed to me a cup of caf, just the two of us, as simple civilians, I… I panicked."

"Really?" He asks, curious, but not pressing the matter, if you preferred to keep it to yourself, "Am I that terrible to be around?"

"You are… A very imposing man. You have a powerful presence, and it is intimidating. You are so intelligent and cultured, I was so terrified you would realize I am a bumbling idiot."

"You are not a bumbling idiot, (Y/n). You are a very clever, capable woman, and I learn more every day at your side. You had nothing to fear; I sensed all those bewitching qualities in you for a long time, and I longed to make you mine in turn for as long."

"Me too…" You tell him, "When you accepted my proposition for a second date, I was elated."

"If something happens to you, I could never forgive myself…"

"Then let's make sure nothing happens to both of us, so I can bring you back to your Ascendancy in one safe and sound."

"But would you stay with me there? Would you follow me to the confines of the universe to end our days in peace, far away from the Empire and its maneuvers?"

"I…" Your answer dies on your tongue before you can finish it, "I wish I could tell you the answer…"

"It is alright." He simply says, his thumb caressing your hand.

"Thrawn, I'm sorry, I-"

He shushes you lowly.

"It is no use to think this far yet. We are decades from that hypothetical decision. Let's just enjoy each other's company. I missed you…"

And to cut all possible pursuit of the conversation, he slides out of you, earning an ungodly moan from you as his ridges scratch all your spots, and slides back in.

He does it again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And now he is peacefully thrusting into you, at a steady but languid pace, forcing you on your knees for him.

He is just so… So... So much to take all in!

You are stretched to your maximum to allow him to move, his cock so unlike what you knew before him. In measurements or anatomical quirks, his veins and textured ridges coursing his length, allowing him to titillate gummy spots a regular human cock could not.

Gummy spots you absolutely had no idea you had.

Depth you never knew he could bury himself in.

He goes slowly.

Takes his time

Savoring each inch you allow in

It is lazy, cosy sex. Sloppy and wet, but you'd be damned if you didn't love it. He can make you see stars with just one finger, so his entire shaft makes you experience a true Big Bang of burning sensations each time.

He is just that good.

He keeps on kissing your shoulder as he slides in and out gently, his free hand traveling under your tummy to toy with your little clit like a stress toy, making you clench instantly.

"I love when you do that, Ch'acah. You give me pleasure so effortlessly."

"I don't really control those reactions…!" You admit between mewls and moans.

"This is why I love your body so much, it is so reactive to my touch. It is such a pleasure to play with and to pamper."

You gulp, feeling sweat all over your body, rubbing on Thrawn's carved body.

"So wet. So tight. Whole mine to love." He bites your ear again, "And to breed…"

You whine at his lecherous words. Why does he have to make it so… Obscene? Yet your cunt reacts undubitably positively.

"I can feel you are in agreement with me, Ch'acah. I love that about you, too. Our goals align so perfectly all the time, isn't it just great?"

You bite your lower lip, feeling his mass moving in and out of you, his hips hitting your cheeks, his cock entering your pussy in ungodly wet sounds.

And the raw scent of sex seeps into your hair and into your sheets.

It is already delightfully dizzying for you, so you can't even imagine how it is for Thrawn, with his heightened alien senses.

He lets out a long growl as he slowly accelerates his rut into you, trying to get more.

To feel more.

To see how far he can push you both.

"I cannot wait to have you plump and leaking with my semen." He grouses dangerously, his voice low, "I need you full of me. I crave you full of me… Soon pregnant with our baby. Our love child. The crystallisation of all our hopes and ambitions…" He keeps accelerating.

You huff out, trying to breathe, but you can feel him reach all the way down here, punching air out of you. You grow tired, your stamina soon depleted, but he keeps on going, never fatering or slowing down. He growls out loud, his instincts taking the commands of his actions.

"Don't you want it, Ch'acah? A baby for us both? A little girl? Fuck, I… Tell me you want it as bad as me…! Tell me you want to give me an heir! To give life and an incarnation to Hope itself…! Tell me!"

This is not lazy sex anymore. When he starts talking about a baby with you, he loses it all and takes you for the ride of your lives. Now he is pounding you down energetically, slamming his cock deep in you in powerful thrusts.

It is energetic and frenetic. He gives you his all, impaling you on his shaft while he keeps torturing your clit with his flexible hand so easily.

You feel your core tightening, a scorching hot pool coiling in your flesh, lava poured directly into your veins.

"Tell me… You will always be here! That I will always find you back…! That I can return to you, no matter what…! Tell me, Ch'acah, tell me…!" He hurries you.

Begs you…

A home.

A family.

Love.

Companionship.

For all to not be in vain, in the end…

"Y… Yes! Yes… Thrawn! I'll… I'll always b-be here!" You let him know, fucked out of your mind, high on raw excstasy.

He twists and slaps your swollen clit, he abuses and slams into your puffed out pussylips. He rams into you like a ferocious bull.

Like a feral Chiss.

Like he loves to.

He hisses and harshly sinks his teeth into your shoulder, making you cry out in sudden pain, melting down in warm, numbing pleasure.

He snaps his hips, grinds them into yours, his pace becoming erratic, slamming them hard and true into you, until he buries himself to the hilt a last time, taking you with him in the abyss of pleasures.

Tension snaps like a knot in your core, and you pussy clenches and contracts hard as electricity courses your entire body, immobilizing your limbs, letting him do as he pleases. Pleasure floods you like a tsunami, threatening to shatter your mind for good in his embrace, your toes curling and your cunt squirting on his twitching, nervous cock, forcing your mouth open in a long, silent scream of his name.

And your body just gives up. Whatever was holding you together and sane just evaporates, and you slouch on the mattress, going limp under your husband's glorious body.

You whimper weakly, feeling his thick ribbons of seed spurting deep inside of you, your cunny milking him for all his worth, knowing her greed and her Maker-given rights.

Rights to be owned and bred by the best Chiss in existence.

That it is your privilege to you only.

You are his, down to the thinnest of hair.

And you own him, to the faintest of breath.

You let out a sigh, feeling him still leaking inside of you.

All comes to a halt.

You are both panting, holding on to each other, resting for a bit.

"Maker's sacks…"You mumble, drunk on pleasure.

Thrawn gently kisses your wounded shoulder, as to say sorry to have lost all control.

"Are you alright, (Y/n)?" He murmurs, hugging you tight under him.

"Mmmhmmm…" You can only respond.

"Do not move, I am not done yet… We need more loads to maximise our chances of conceiving." He tells you, already rested and ready to resume.

As always…

He doesn't even get soft between rounds.

"Rest, Ch'acah. I am taking care of everything. Rest that beautiful brain of yours while I fuck it to exhaustion…"

Laughing, you drew another puff of smoke, little tipsy, and quite assured this was your luckiest hand yet.

“I thought you boys knew how to play Sabacc?” you teased, moving a strand of hair from your face. The tiny room on the lower decks erupted into laughter, most of them ensigns and a couple of junior officers, the rowdy gang that you would party with almost every week. You knew some of them were trying really hard to impress you, indirectly at least, but because you worked so closely with the Grand Admiral, they were still afraid of overplaying their hand. You would shoot it down in a heartbeat anyway – you were looking for friendly relations, not drama. Something to blow off some steam at the end of your working week, a time to share some laughs and a dance or two.

You were never a party girl, and you hated going to galas and evening celebrations, but you felt so trapped here, and when you overheard two ensigns talking about a secret Sabacc meet ups, well, things just fell into place.

“Pay up, losers!” you exclaimed, just as the whole room rattled, with everyone but you getting up, shutting up, and standing at attention. With a deep sigh and guessing who was standing behind you, you got up, and turned around to face your boss.

“Where is your uniform, ensign?” Grand Admiral Thrawn asked a very young man who was standing just in his black top, his face rapidly changing colours. Thrawn’s eyes, however, were trained strictly on you.

“I won this fair and square,” you responded to Thrawn, extinguishing a cigarette, flashing a tipsy, self-assured smile. “Sir,” you added quickly, biting your tongue a little. No one moved a muscle, except one of Thrawn’s facial muscles spasmed momentarily. You were not sure if he was trying to stare you down or if he was finally getting truly fed up with your shit. “Fine, fine, you draw a hard bargain,” you started to slowly peel off the tunic strip, exposing your tiny, a couple of sizes too small bra to Admiral. You passed it to the young man whose name was currently escaping you; Thrawn quickly made a note of his plaque, which designated him an officer, rather than an ensign.

“Dismissed,” he growled, and you watched in astonishment as all the men quietly, and in a surprisingly straight line, left the room. You grabbed a random glass from the table and drank down, as you knew what was coming.

As a civilian contractor, Thrawn learned quickly that he can’t order you around, although he didn’t even intend to do it. Even so, he slipped up a couple of times, and you were even quicker to ignore everything he said. You couldn’t say who was more unhappy about the assignment, you or him, although you could definitely tell who was more annoyed. Despite that, he never made your life harder; you came to believe that a part of him enjoyed the teasing, especially after you proved your loyalty after a particularly demanding mission.

He was still silent, looking around the room, in which the boys crammed a table and a couple of chairs.

“How long have you known?” you asked nonchalantly, because you knew he didn’t find out today. Or yesterday, for that matter.

“Weeks,” his tone returned to what you regarded as his baseline, but you were not paying attention, rather, you were trying to think what happened weeks ago and whose mistake it was. You doubted it was any of the ensigns or officers’, as you were pretty sure this was their first real interaction with Thrawn. No, it was your mistake.

“The typing error,” you sighed.

“The misspelling,” your eyes were trailing Thrawn all around the room, and back to you. Oh, he was pissed, his back somehow straighter than usual, eyes glowing in a shade of red you’ve never seen before, a couple of strands of his bluish black hair out of place.

Silently, he handed you your silk blouse, the one you removed previously. Five weeks ago, you made a misspelling in one of the documents you submitted to him, your first and only mistake during your time on ISD Chimaera. And it truly was your only one, one word among the ten pages, never to be repeated. You were just so tired that day, due to partying the night earlier, and because of that, allowed yourself to slip up, and spell it the way it was common for your planet, the way you grew up saying and writing it. Thrawn let you know, but you weren’t too concerned then, and now you were thinking that maybe you should have been.

“You should be happy I didn’t send any of your friends to detention,” his tone lowered again, snarky or a little angry, you weren’t quite sure, but definitely annoyed. What’s new, you thought, as you were following him through the maze of narrow corridors.

“Come on, we were just relaxing, Sir,” you tried to placate him, but Thrawn didn’t respond, not until you reached his private quarters.

You couldn’t say you weren’t here before, as Thrawn would reserve his starkest criticism and scolding towards you for this room – you could never guess why, and after a while didn’t care, as you loved watching him all agitated, trying to keep his composure, as you were rolling his eyes at him.

“I thought,” he finally opened his mouth again, “that humans shed this sort of behaviour after teenage years.”

He was sitting in his chair, table between you, as you were casually leaning against it, just to try and drive him a little more insane.

“Most do, yes, Sir. But some of us remain a little more, in a lack of a better word, Sir, rebellious,” you observed his face, but he didn’t get sucked into yet another one of your provocations. Honestly, the more stoic he would remain, the hotter he’d become in your eyes.

“And what about other human ways of, what did you call it, blowing off steam?”

Oh, he knew exactly what you called it, but lately, Grand Admiral would sometimes use your way of talking to mock you. You were unsure what was his goal, but you fucking loved it.

“I do have my own private quarters, Sir,” you smiled, hinting at the obvious self-pleasuring you enjoyed in your spare time. Thrawn got up from his chair and walked around the table to face you, a step too close, but you not only remained in your position, but didn’t even feel uncomfortable.

“And do you entertain guests there as well?” he whispered, leaning slightly towards you.

“I’m not fucking anyone onboard Chimaera, Sir,” you gritted through your teeth, trying hard not to show how offended his words made you feel, your eyes sternly fixed on his face, “or off.”

“Your brating, it stops now,” he wasn’t giving you an order, this was more of a warning that he was at the end of his rope with you. You often wondered why he was putting up with you anyway, as one word for him, and not only would you be booted off the ship, but he could literally pick any other civilian aide. Not like you were helping him with his military plans, but would mostly summarize historical documents or write glorified statements on his behalf, which he would obsessively go over before signing them, with you standing at his side late after hours. He explained one evening why he prefers a person doing it, but why he considered you an expert at it, you had no idea.

Pulling you back to the present was another twitch on his face, this time on the corner of his lips, which was his way of repeating himself without actually doing so.

Your brating, his words echoed in your head, it stops now.

Or what?, you wanted to reply, but something told you he expected you to react in such a manner. No, you were either going to nod and retreat to your quarters, or you were going to provoke him to lose control. And you knew which one you’d prefer.

“Make me,” the words have barely escaped your lips when Thrawn’s hand found your neck and in a couple of quick steps, he had you against the wall of his cabin, shifting his weight slightly onto your body, pinning you against cold metal. The squeak of his leather gloves, the faint but unmistakable scent of Thrawn’s own skin, and a slight tremor of his lips was enough to send your body into an overdrive.

Thrawn was still holding himself back, as you knew how strong he was – he randomly joined you months ago during your exercise time to question your self-defense techniques. During one, he lifted you off the ground with such ease that you had to excuse yourself, as it made you so wet you basically humped the pillow that night.

You have never seen Thrawn so angry and desperate and before you could think, your lips curled upward into a teasing smirk. He pressed himself against you even more and you could feel how hard he was against your thigh, hard and big. You tried to reach towards it with your hand, but Thrawn suddenly pressed his forehead onto yours, surprising you.

“You are never leaving Chimaera,” he growled into your mouth, his grip over your throat tightening. Both of you knew it was going to leave a noticeable mark, not only on your skin, but on your voice as well.

“The purpose of blowing off steam, Admiral,” you whispered, trying to suppress small moans trying to escape your throat, “is to let go completely.”

You tried to lean forward to kiss him, you were burning for him, and you knew he could see it, infrared vision or not, but Thrawn wouldn’t allow it. He was in some sort of internal struggle with himself, albeit a short one, before he spoke again.

“Get on your knees.”

You didn’t have to be told twice.

Looking at him from below, you quickly realized two things. After he erroneously threw his tunic and gloves on the floor, you realized that he was dangerously out of control for whatever reason, and it seemed it wasn’t just you. And, he wasn’t big, he was enormous. Faced with his cock, you started to lick the leaking tip, drawing a long breath out of him, but instead of fantasizing even more about Thrawn fucking (ravaging) you, your only thought was how there is no way it would fit, anywhere. But damned if you wouldn’t try.

As your tongue worked on his undershaft, which, just like the top was ridged, Thrawn already tangled one of his hands into your hair, pulling your head slightly back. With a couple of strokes, his breathing frequency notably changed and you took it as a sign you were doing something right. Now, the really hard part was coming up. You opened your mouth as wide as you could, his scent overwhelming you and his size making you squeeze your thighs together. You wanted to touch yourself so badly, but you had an idea how that would be received. Plus, you weren’t quite sure you’d even be able to focus on both at the same time.

You were trying to relax your jaw just as Thrawn started to pump into you, a couple of exploratory thrusts at first but it was apparent he wanted to disappear his cock into your throat. He tugged onto your blouse, signaling he wanted it removed. You obeyed and untied it slowly, not out of disobedience, but Thrawn didn’t care – he pushed your head towards himself, making you gag. You were never good at blowjobs to begin with, and you were trying, really trying. Breathe through your nose, you kept repeating to yourself, eyes teary, looking up to Thrawn. He looked feral with need and you dutifully went back to work, swallowing him as much as you could.

You hoped your saliva and his precum would make things a little easier, but after a while, it seemed as if your throat was already so bruised it started to swell a little, as you had a hard time swallowing the little spit that didn’t end all over Thrawn’s cock. You weren’t sure if he had noticed, as his gaze seemed transfixed over your bouncing tits, but soon he steadied you with both hands and started to fuck in and out of your mouth. Your jaw was getting tired and you were dreading the consequences of accidentally dragging your teeth over his cock; you put your hands on his thighs to steady yourself a bit more.

“Is this what you wanted all along?” he asked, sending another wave of arousal through you. When you didn’t answer, he not only upped his pace a bit, but pulled painfully on your hair.

“I asked you a question, whore,” Thrawn muttered, barely containing his own sighs and grunts.

If anyone else called you that, you would close your mouth so fast they wouldn’t realize what was happening, but you were too needy, too aroused, and too wet, so you pathetically tried to say “yes” from the bottom of your throat, although what came out was unintelligible mess amidst his ragged breathing. Thrawn was, however, happy with your answer as he suddenly rammed at the back of your throat as much as possible, and although you managed to take only a half of his long cock, he still was ready to explode in your mouth.

“All of it,” he instructed, before spilling, and you swallowed and swallowed, until he freed your mouth, only allowing you a couple of quick breaths, before thrusting his cock back towards your face.

“Clean it.”

When you were too slow for his liking, he slapped you, lightly, just enough to burn but not really hurt and you started to lick and suck again, until he pulled you on your feet. You wiped your mouth, and then your hand on your already ruined silk skirt, trying to balance your body.

“I see I’ll have to dedicate more time to training you,” he muttered again, almost to himself, his thumb playing with your lower lip, “but you look so pretty with your face puffed and bruised like this.”

You wanted to smile, because the pain his cock caused your throat, your mouth, and your lips felt devastatingly good. You watched as his hands found their way to your waist and higher, to your tits that somehow managed to stay put in that teeny tiny bra of yours.

He pushed one of his fingers in your mouth, and then another, guiding you backwards towards the couch. When the back of your legs hit the edge,

Thrawn tore off your skirt and let it fall down the floor, revealing similarly tiny thongs. Initially, you thought it would turn him on more, if that was possible in any way, but instead, his eyes started glowing in that dark, angry red that you’ve only seen once or twice before tonight.

Thrawn sat down, pulling you to straddle his lap and taking off his undershirt at the same time. An excited gasp escaped your lips at the sight of him, all chiseled and a little sweaty, but Thrawn was more focused on tearing your underwear off you, coaxing more gasps out of you. He faltered for a second and you wondered if the night would end here, but then he pulled you into a feverish kiss that was more about claiming and conquering than lust.

One of your hands was on his shoulder and the other one hanging off his neck, Thrawn grabbing a handful of your ass and dragging you closer, emboldened by your tiny moans and the way you were pressing yourself against him. He probed with his tongue in a rather inexperienced way, which surprised you a little, but you still couldn’t get enough of him.

Like he was reading your desperate little mind, Thrawn worked one of his fingers into you and used his thumb to massage and play with your clit, drawing lazy circles, teasing you in a way you never thought he would be capable of.

“Sir,” you moaned, begging for more and begging him to continue, heat welling up in your cunt, your whole body asking to be released of the pent up frustration. You could feel his lips forming a mocking, perhaps even a triumphant, smirk, probably because you never voluntarily called him “Sir” or “Grand Admiral” in a private, social setting.

“I wonder, what made you more wet,” he asked cockingly, nipping at your lower jaw, “my cock in your mouth, or when I called you a whore?”

You immediately tightened around his finger, involuntary answering his question.

“You really are a little whore,” Thrawn chuckled, his tongue circling your overly sensitive nipple.

“But if I ever catch you parading like this in front of my crew again,” his voice went low again and he suddenly forced another finger into you, sending a jolt of pain through you, “you are going to wish you died in the Outer Rim.”

He allowed you to try and fuck yourself onto his fingers for a little bit for his own amusement, before adding a third. The stretch made you grunt in discomfort, but your hand quickly found its way back to his half-hard cock and started stroking him again.

In your mind, you were begging to be fucked, to be at Thrawn’s mercy, to be his little fucktoy. Yes, you smiled to yourself, you really, really wanted to be his fucktoy, nothing more than a plaything for him to use to satisfy himself. The smile didn’t escape his attention, and he slapped you again.

“I don’t remember allowing you to enjoy yourself,” Thrawn growled, biting your lower lip.

“Please,” you begged, your eyes closed and tearing up a little, not from pain or perceived humiliation, but from chasing your high. His cock was throbbing in your hand but you were merely holding it now rather than stroking, spreading your legs on his lap as much as possible, focusing fully on those circles he was pressing into your clit.

“What were you just thinking about?” Thrawn demanded, another hint of insecurity escaping his controlling nature.

He could have just ordered you to tell him and you would have relented, but this opened the door for you to tease him just a little bit.

“About being a fucktoy,” you moaned, your release coming closer with every touch of Thrawn’s cold fingers. “About being a plaything,” you continued, breathing into his mouth, rolling your hips a little, chasing his fingers.

“You smiled because you want to be my plaything?” Thrawn asked, his voice strewn with lust and need, pressing his digits deeper into you, burying his head between your tits.

“Who said anything about you?” you cheekily asked, your hands tangled deep into his tousled hair, still trying to reach that high and come onto Thrawn’s fingers.

In less than a second the hand that was grabbing at your hip has now found your neck again, although he didn’t press.

“I did,” he growled, the red glow shining through his half-lidded eyelids. “You belong to me,” your Grand Admiral said, his thumb resting on your tongue which did nothing to muffle your rather loud moans. “Say it,” he ordered, smearing your saliva all over your lips and flexing his fingers inside your wet, hot pussy.

This, in combination with his thumb still rubbing your clit, was enough to send you over the edge; your arms went limp around his neck, your neck leaning completely against his hand, your breathing going all ragged and uneven.

“Yours, I’m yours,” you moaned, pleasure coarsing through you as Thrawn’s hand was lazily fucking you through it, “I’m your plaything,” you exclaimed as the last wave of pleasure crashed through you and you creamed all over Thrawn’s hand.

“Exquisite,” he muttered to himself again, licking off your slick from his fingers, giving you a moment to regain your composure and then, in a couple of swift movements, he pinned you on your back, this time against the couch. Thrawn was impatient, another surprising characteristic he was willing to show, not that you were complaining; a bit by bit, he was already fucking into you, sending a wave after a wave of small pleasures through you again. He was trying his best in allowing you to adapt to his size and girth, but you were already too fucked out, too cock-drunk to care; you just wanted to feel him deep, deep inside you.

Incoherent moans were escaping your lips, even more after he tossed one of your legs over his shoulder and leaned on it, pressing your knee to your own shoulder, all in an attempt to open you up more.

“Breathe, ch’ acah,” Thrawn whispered in your ear, his voice heavy, greedy. You had no idea what the word meant, but you guessed it had similar meaning to the one he already used during the course of the evening and the very idea of your prim-and-proper boss using such vulgar vocabulary made you involuntarily squeeze around his fat cock, drawing a long moan out of him.

Still, you listened, and although your nails were digging deep into his back and neck, you focused on breathing, trying to somehow will your pussy into relaxing more and accept everything Thrawn was giving you, ridge by ridge.

“Yes, yes, more,” you panted, feeling another wave of pleasure forming low in your stomach. “Don’t stop, Sir, please.” Thrawn was splitting you in half on his cock, although you were correct in assuming he wouldn’t all fit. He also wasn’t unnecessarily rough, but you were hurting just the same from his sheer size. The pleasure outbalanced it, however, and you continued to moan and beg, your hands going limp around his neck once again, little droplets of sweat falling from Thrawn’s forehead onto your face, his eyes trying to take in your every expression, every little breath.

Thrawn was also close, at least if his blabbering in Cheunh was any indication, not that you could make out anything he was saying. He was fucking in and out of you, upping the pace a little by little, although he wasn’t pulling out all the way, too lost in your pussy to completely part with it even for a second.

“A little more,” you begged, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes, “please, please.” It felt so good, so pleasurable to be fucked like this, feeling his cock so deep inside of you, after months and months of desperate fantasies. Simply listening to the obscene symphony your bodies produced, skin on skin, the squelching of your pussy, Thrawn desperately trying to hold back by grabbing your waist, and all the breaths, grunts, and moans was enough to tip you over the edge.

You let out a series of loud moans which mixed with Thrawn’s own sounds of unrestrained pleasure as he flooded your pussy with his seed; you could feel him throbbing deep inside you and then overflowing. Thrawn was still and quiet on top of you, not a muscle moving, his breath ragged and hot on your neck. You pushed a couple of strands of a bluish black hair back and wiped his sweaty brows with your thumbs. His eyes were closed and you could still feel his seed pumping out, although his cock softened a little. Despite the intensity of your second orgasm, you were still so incredibly horny.

Thrawn slowly stood up and finally removed his boots, pants, and underwear, erroneously tossing each to the side. Sitting up, you could feel his seed flowing out of you, bathing your thighs in his mark. Your legs were trembling a little from exhaustion, and you let them, staring at Thrawn’s muscular back.

“Are you feeling all right?” he asked gently, turning to you. When you nodded and flashed a tiny smile, he tossed you over his shoulder. “Good,” he muttered, walking towards his bedroom, ignoring your surprised shriek “because I need it at least one more time.”

────୨ৎ────

When you opened your eyes, you were on your side, your head and hand resting on Thrawn’s chest. He was drawing lazy circles on your shoulder with his thumb, pondering God knows what. Your whole body was one dull ache and you could see bruises already formed on your forearm; you took one deep breath taking Thrawn’s scent in, just to convince yourself it was all real.

“Did I wake you?” he whispered, pulling more covers over you. You shook your head slightly and looked up, and to your dismay, he looked tortured and perhaps even worse off than the night before. “Does blowing off steam usually leave a person feeling this much worse?” Thrawn’s voice was low and in a tone you’ve never heard before.

“Depending on how much one had to drink,” your voice was cracking but you tried being cheeky to cheer him up a little. Something was wrong, and you couldn’t put your finger on it.

Thrawn’s brows furrowed and he averted his gaze, although he kept his hand on your shoulder. “Perhaps I should apologize for my actions last night,” his voice was resolute, like he was giving a command on the bridge. For whatever reason, it gave you goosebumps, bad ones. “I’ve called you names and used both force and my authority to…”

”Your what?” his eyes found your face again, trying to make sense of you barely containing laughter. “You don’t really have authority over me.”

”I could literally throw you out of the airlock without facing any consequences whatsoever.”

You couldn’t remember when was the last time you laughed half as hard or as loud, even though it hurt like all hells. As you climbed in Thrawn’s lap, you fixed his hair again. “Do you think…” you started saying, but started laughing again. “Do you think I slept with you because I thought you might otherwise throw me out of the airlock?” Thrawn was dragging his fingers over the painful bruises he left on your neck.

”No, but you know what I’m trying to say.”

”You are not that kind of man, Sir,” you leaned in to kiss him, wide smile still on your lips, but he stopped you.

”And you’re using distancing language again,” he sighed, his gaze following his hand to your bruised hips. A little angered and a lotta confused, you literally grabbed his face and forced him to look at you.

”What the fuck are you talking about, Thrawn?”

His cheeks changed colour, to dark blue, at least as much as you could see under almost non-existent light in the room.

”You kept calling me Sir instead of Thrawn.”

Oh, you so badly wanted to answer something rude and crass, like sure, and I kept sucking your cock, but instead, you took a deep breath. As you shivered a little, Thrawn tried pulling more covers over you, but you used the opportunity to press yourself against him.

”You are awfully insecure for a war criminal, Thrawn,” you purposefully dragged out saying his name, “and I didn’t use distancing language, I thought calling you Sir was hot. But I guess I could get used to using Thrawn as well.” you winked at him, but Thrawn was fully concentrating on observing your face, trying to find any sign of deception. “Don’t you think I would do, or say something? Slap you, spit in your face, bite you? Come on, Thrawn, don’t you know me at all?”

“I suppose you are one of life's great mysteries, ch’acah,” he teased a little, but you tensed in his arms.

”What does that word mean? You used it yesterday as well.”

”It’s a term…” he was scanning your face, his cheeks flushed again “of endearment.”

Just as you wanted to reply, with something witty and cute, his comm links went off. You tried reaching for it, but Thrawn was faster, pinning you between the bed and himself in one move.

”Behave now, ch’acah,” he whispered before answering and you were already planning how to annoy him.

If you like my writing, all interactions are greatly appreciated-`♡´-

Oh, and Happy New Year!

Masterlist౨ৎ

Thrawn noted the stiffness in your back and the tension in your muscles. You stood up, wiping your hand against your overalls, and faced him. The fresh crimson stood out against the soiled cloth. Offering him a strained smile, you walked over to him and gestured at the painting. Your stance was tense, and he didn't miss the wrinkles forming on your forehead, indicating displeasure.

Your eyes darted toward Thrawn then back at your newly finished work. He remained silent, allowing you to decide whether or not to speak. You shifted your weight from foot to foot, denoting discomfort, and your shoulders drooped slightly. You cleared your throat and mumbled, “Well?”

Thrawn stepped forward and switched his attention from you to the painting. The colors transitioned from one to another seamlessly, and the landscape was more conceptual than representational of scenery viewed in real life which added a dreamlike quality to the piece. However, the possibility of finding tranquility in the gentle pinks and purples embracing the horizon was threatened by the harsh orange and red blotting the upper half of the sky.

What interested Thrawn the most were the ruined figures looming high above the mountain tops, concealed in the inferno. Slowly, Thrawn turned to look to whom the piece owned its creation. 

You were rocking back and forth on your heels, gnawing on your bottom lip. You stopped and raised an eyebrow. Thrawn considered his words carefully before saying, “I believe this is your most inspiring work to date and I deem it as a finished masterpiece.”

You let out a breath and shuffled forward, a wry smile twisting your lips. Your facial heat went up a few degrees and your shoulders loosened a little bit. You laughed and replied, “I dunno ‘bout ‘masterpiece’ but I’m proud of this one. Might be my best.”

“Yes, the techniques you learned from the Snivvians on Salliche did not go to waste. I see you employed them with the outline of the mountains and hiding the setting sun behind them, making the audience imagine what it can only see the effects of.” The two stood side by side admiring the painting for a few quiet moments.

“And what can it tell you about me? Or my culture I guess?” You glanced at him, the challenge in your eyes unmistakable.

Ever since Thrawn displayed his skill in inferring a culture’s or species’ psychological state to determine how best to orchestrate their downfall, you tested him with each of your new creations to see how good he actually was. He had managed to unnerve you in past instances with the information he provided for your benefit.

Every time, you promised aloud that he would either be stumped or downright wrong about how your psyche affected your next work. He never was. This was because all artists were identical in the regard that their cultural upbringing and their species’ hopes and fears were forever interwoven within their art, either lingering in the background or in full force at the front. In this case, it was the latter.

“The first is that the unknown is a formidable fear. Worse is a threat you know the existence of but are unaware of its complete intricacies. Second is that true beauty must be hidden away. One could never fully appreciate the beautiful, so it must be kept a secret to protect its delicate nature. Is that correct?”

Thrawn knew your answer before you responded. He had seen those similar fears and principles echoed across your other works whether they were paintings, sculptures, simple illustrations, or detailed mosaics.

None had been as prominent in exhibiting them as in this painting. You frowned, and Thrawn suspected you were thinking about childhood nightmares and lessons your elders had drilled into you from a young age.

“Yes, I suppose that's true enough from a . . . certain point of view.” He didn’t press the matter, learning long ago that certain beings took time to accept uncomfortable truths about themselves. You had accepted many disconcerting truths about yourself through Thrawn’s observances of your various artworks and you would recognize these as well given the proper amount of time.

While you took little pleasure in having your soul laid bare and examined by him, Thrawn took exceptional delight in the exercise. He knew you better than anyone else—including yourself—although you might have disagreed with him on that last part. Thrawn never felt closer to any other person as he did with you.

He had studied and memorized hopes and dreams, fears known and unknown, morals shared with and foreign to him. He had dissected secrets about yourself you weren’t even aware of holding.

This was obtained by assessing the colors chosen in a certain painting, scrutinizing the hand placement of a statue, the shading in a quick sketch, or the angle of hundreds of tiles in a mosaic. All this knowledge was at Thrawn’s fingertips, and you were begging for him to discover more with each failed attempt to confuse him.

Sparing him a final glance, you said, “I better go clean myself up.”

Thrawn grabbed your wrist lightly. “Before you excuse yourself, tell me the name you have decided to bestow upon your creation.”

Your brow furrowed again. “Oh, I hadn’t given it much thought to be honest. I don’t really care. You can have the honor of naming it.” You slipped off through the doorway, while Thrawn remained in place, staring at the ruby splotch left on his hand.

Meanwhile, far across the galaxy, aboard the interminably under construction Death Star, Director Orson Krennic’s comm link sounded. He smiled instinctively as he recognized the customized tone. Under normal circumstances, he would have to exercise what little patience he possessed and wait to review the footage, but he was alone in his office between meetings at the moment.

And how very fortunate that timing was.

He immediately pulled up the high-definition live security feed of your living room.

At first Krennic seethed with anger and jealousy to see that you were not alone, but accompanied by Grand Admiral Thrawn. And judging by your elegant outfit, you were bringing him home after a date.

You began eagerly removing his uniform. Much to Krennic’s surprise, Thrawn was covered in tattoos. And much to Krennic’s chagrin, Thrawn was also in better shape than anyone he had ever seen. Krennic knew his own blue eyes alone made many women swoon, but he wondered if he should begin taking his physical training a little more seriously, since you apparently happened to be into impeccable physique.

Krennic’s eyes narrowed in suspicion as he heard Thrawn explain his tattoos—which matched his Star Destroyer— were a symbol of his allegiance to the Chiss. Now that was an interesting bit of information to use to Krennic’s advantage, especially if Palpatine were unaware.

All that was completely driven from Krennic’s mind a moment later as Thrawn undressed you fully and Krennic was able to study your naked form.

Absolutely stunning.

Krennic unfastened his pants and began to palm his rapidly hardening erection.

He watched as you took Thrawn by the hand, led him to your sofa, and straddled him.

This was honestly not why Krennic had had the cameras installed. He hadn’t placed any surveillance equipment in your bedroom or bathroom, just the main living areas. He hadn’t even bugged your comm.

Krennic had been instantly smitten with you the moment he laid eyes on you in your gallery, but he was gone so often for so long. How could he court you effectively when he was always across the galaxy? Especially once he realized Thrawn was interested in you too, not just your gallery.

No, Krennic just wanted to be able to see you when he wanted, become familiar with your routines and patterns. He truly never would have expected you to fuck Thrawn on your sofa, giving him a perfect display of your naked body.

So he could hardly be held accountable for jacking off to you now. Or recording it for future viewing pleasure.

Krennic watched, enraptured, as you lowered yourself onto Thrawn and began rolling your hips.

Krennic smirked. My, my, you were kind of a slut, weren’t you? Not that he was complaining. If you were interested in that socially incompetent subhuman after one date, all because he bought a few pieces of art from you, how easy would it be for him to seduce you?

Fuck, your gasps and moans sounded so sexy. Krennic wanted to know what you sounded like for him. He couldn’t wait for you to ride his cock…He knew you would be so tight and warm and wet. He’d kiss the crook of your neck, tease your nipples with his tongue, grasp your waist to keep himself fully sheathed inside you. Maybe you would whimper how much better he was than Thrawn with his treasonous tattoos and weird blue skin and unsettling red eyes and stupid muscle definition. And how you thought Stardust was so much better than the fucking TIE Defender.

He was getting off track; you had no idea what Stardust was. But if you did, Krennic knew you would agree Stardust was the far superior and crucial project. And needed more funding.

Thrawn had you bent over the sofa now, fucking you from behind. Krennic scoffed. Thrawn was such a pussy. He was being far too timid. You needed your hair pulled and your ass smacked. Krennic longed to dig his fingers into your hips as he pounded his cock into you, with you fucking back onto him.

“More!” Krennic heard you beg.

Oh, you poor thing. If Krennic was having his way with you, you would be gasping for breath, protesting in vain that you were too overstimulated. And then he’d make you cum again. And then you’d tell him how he ruined you for any other being.

Krennic moved his hand faster as your whines became higher pitched. He could tell you were getting close and wanted to cum when you did.

You had a perfect O face too. Krennic couldn’t wait to be the reason you were a gasping, shaking, sweaty mess, clenching around him as he spilled his load into you.

Now Thrawn was saying something, attempting to appear suave, no doubt. Krennic didn’t need to hear his embarrassing attempts to continue flirting. He rolled his eyes and cut the feed.

He glanced down at his desk. It was now a sticky mess, but he didn’t care. Actually…Smirking to himself, Krennic smeared a sullied finger down a stack of data cards he was going to give Tarkin at their next status conference.

His musings turned back to you as Krennic fixed his uniform. He had enjoyed watching much more than he thought he would have, considering Thrawn was also there. He supposed if you were to continue to see the Chiss, he should have cameras installed in your bedroom too. That way he could be sure of what you liked and what talents he had that he could surprise you with. All for your benefit, he reasoned. You’d probably even thank him later, if he ever told you.

Yes, this would have to do until he could escape to the capital and show you what a REAL man was capable of.

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​    Who knew your weaknesses included intelligent men who were outcast by other cadets?

    The blue-skinned calm man and the Outer Rim, easily flustered man.

​    The pair had taken to you with bashful smiles and observant crimson gazes. Your hands brushing theirs while checking over datapads and when leaving their quarters. Kind and respectful words always exchanged.

    It was only during your final week in the Academy that you may had let your emotions get the better of you. Rubbing Eli's shoulders when he denied having any concerns over his future came first. An intimate highlight, but it definitely had him unable to look you straight in the eye afterwards. Smoothing out wrinkles only you could see on Thrawn's uniform as he watched on came next. He trusted your judgement and even inquired if his uniform needed another touch-up when your hands lifted from his abdomen.

    The last time you interacted with the pair, you had been in their quarters, both men sitting on their designated bunks. The odds of you seeing them again were low and that made your actions all the more vital. You had stated the action was for luck when you kissed Thrawn's thin lips and stroked his cheek before climbing up to the top bunk and kissing Eli's lips slowly as he flushed deeply.

    Was it love that you felt or a loss of companionship?

​    Being assigned on the same ship raised questions you had yet to ask.

​    You did not regret kissing them. Neither did you forget them. You remembered the men fondly and respectfully.

​    Time away from them only made you crave their company and compare every officer to them.

Yet on the Chimaera, people worked efficiently and under a command that encouraged instead of barked reprimands every two seconds.

​    So who would be the first to reestablish the companionship?

    Who would speak on your more intimate past first?

    When would you ever be alone with them again?

​    The three of you had varying ranks. It was best not to hold your breath on the matter.

. . .

    Awaiting to give your thoughts on the upcoming departure, you stood in the Grand Admiral's office. Slowly, you tried familiarizing yourself with the space. The standard desk and the various art pieces.

    So incredibly and obviously Thrawn's office, you thought in amusement.

    Beside you and equally silent, stood Commander Vanto. Older and experienced as you were after years in the imperial navy.

   He was visibly flustered in your presence. Never making eye contact. Throat bobbing every few seconds.

    Exhaling softly, you turned to your old friend.

​    "It's just me," you assured the man, hoping you weren't stepping over any boundaries.

    Commander Vanto jolted as if your words had zapped him awake. He looked to you in a surprised expression.

    Did I catch him in the middle of a thought?

    "Yes, I know." His voice was low, rising in pitch twice before he swallowed again. Gaze veering anywhere except on you.

    "Did I do something wrong, Commander Vanto?"

    "What? No. No, you didn't. Haven't."

    The same Eli is under there, you thought happily.

    "Good." You grabbed his hand in hopes of grounding him and settling his nerves. A technique you had used as a cadet.

    Warm colored eyes studied you, trying to formulate your current thoughts and intentions.

    "I know I've been onboard for nearly a week now," you stated casually, "but I've been wanting to tell you how happy I am to see you again."

    His shoulders lowered and he gave your hand a small squeeze. Nervousness fading quickly.

    "It's been a long time." Commander Vanto took a step into your personal space. "I'm happy to see you too."

    "I'm glad to see you're well."

    "I...," he ducked his head for a moment as he spoke, "I think your good luck helped."

    My luck? You tilted your head to see his expression better. Oh. Good to know he still blushes from that kiss. You peeked at the closed door before eyeing your friend. If only for a second.

    Leaning in, you pressed your lips to his sweetly. Nothing forceful. He did not move away.

    The memory of your time as a cadet flashed before you with more feelings than any visuals. Youthful crushes that were kept in the dark for so many years.

    "I've missed you, Eli."

    Eyes fluttering shut, he kissed you more firmly. His hands came to rest on your waist as yours snuck up his arms.

    "I can't believe you're here," he whispered against your lips. "I've missed you too. There's so much I've wanted to tell you." Eli hummed as you pulled his lip between yours, sinking into the moment of intimacy.

    The hiss of the door opening caused the pair of you to separate immediately, nearly jumping, just as Grand Admiral Thrawn walked in. Others followed in after him.

    Meeting. Get through the meeting.

    You willed your breathing to slow after the kiss and interruption. Yet seeing Thrawn walk in wearing his white uniform did not help even calm your heartbeat.

    The chiss glanced between the pair of you and only gave a small half smile.

    These men are going to drive me to insanity or the medical bed.

    The brief meeting was held and done professionally. No awkward coughs. No questions with double meanings. Conclusions were made effectively, however included multiple pauses whenever eye contact was made. You hoped no other officer present noticed.

    Surreal as it was to be together, the three of you finished the meeting as Grand Admiral Thrawn needed.

    Quiet and still, you watched as the door closed. Everyone had left the office to return to their posts on the ship. You, however, remained.

    Grand Admiral Thrawn sat down at his desk, well poised and radiating a power most high ranking officers could never possess. Strategic observation.

    You wondered if he had ever thought of you after graduating. Surely, he was much too busy.

    Rumor and word traveled throughout the fleets. How Thrawn went through the ranks swiftly with Vanto in tow.

    There is much more to them than that. I know how smart they are. How thoughtful despite every other person clawing their way up. You walked over to the desk. How they made me feel like a person who mattered.

​    "Both of us are satisfied with your transfer here," Thrawn stated from his seat, glancing up from his datapad.

    Both? You smiled at his words.

​    "I was more than satisfied to receive the news, grand admiral."

​    "I know."

    Warmth flooded inside your chest, filling that empty cavern that carved itself deeper with each year with glory-seeking admirals and back-stabbing ensigns.

    Perhaps Thrawn was even greater after all those years. You dared to do more than hope.

​    You spotted a small smirk on his lips and took a step closer. Fingers met his on the surface of the desk, cool to the touch from the temperature in the ship, and were relieved that he did not pull away.

    The knot in your stomach you had not noticed before relaxed.

    "I might need some luck being aboard such a fine ship."

    "May I offer you this luck onboard the Chimaera?" Thrawn asked, his tone softer.

    If your stomach was in knots before from uncertainty, it was all full of flutters then.

    Crimson eyes checked each minute expression on your face with experienced precision. As if he already could decipher your answer.

    As if I would refuse him.

​    "You certainly may," you turned to fully face him.

    Blue hands pulled you to him by the waist without hesitation before he cupped your face and brought you in for a kiss. No ounce of nervousness. Gaining familiarity with each movement of his lips on yours. All passion and designed to make you want more.

    You parted a little breathless from the encounter, one hand gripping the edge of the desk. It took you a moment to compose yourself.

    "Will that luck suffice?"

    "There's no finer luck." You straightened your uniform.

    Thrawn smiled. "I disagree."

    You gave him a questioning look to which he did not elaborate.

. . .

    Another day, a different shift.

    An unexpected invitation to the Grand Admiral's office.

    "Wait here while I find Commander Vanto."

    "Yes, sir." Your voice did not conceal your confusion.

​    "We must reconnect," Thrawn stated and left you with a kiss on your temple.

    How so? You wondered. Standing in his clean and artfully decorated office, you waited anxiously. Too curious to remain completely professional for much longer. What could Thrawn mean? And he kiss me. Again!

    A short time later, Eli entered the office looking confused and a little nervous.

​    "Is there something wrong?" Eli asked once the door shut. He stood by you, but left enough space to be considered professional.

​    "No." Thrawn smiled and explained shortly. "The three of us must reconnect in an intimate manner. Ignoring our past will only serve to distract us and leave us open to doubt. We must change this in order not to start making mistakes."

    You liked the sound of that.

​    "Intimately?" Eli's gaze shifted between you and Thrawn.

​    "Reasonable. We did pause and take longer than necessary during meetings. This way...will work, I think. And I don't choose one favorite," you admitted openly.

​    "Good." Thrawn then addressed the two of you. "Do either of you object to sexual intercourse?"

​    Eli's mouth dropped open.

    Well then. We're jumping right in.

​    "I don't object." You eyed your flustered companion as his throat bobbed.

​    "Are you serious?" He asked. "The three of us? Together? How would that even work?"

​    "I can guide you if you need assistance." Thrawn stated calmly.

​    "Guide?" Nerves visibly built up within Eli. Shoulders tense and gaze shifting.

​    You approached him swiftly and linked your arms around his shoulders. "It'll be us. Only we will know. We can do whatever we want. Okay?" You kissed his forehead. "Even just laying down together. Whatever you want."

​    His muscles relaxed under your touch and reassurance.

​    You gave him a brief kiss on the corner of his mouth.

​    "Will we have time?" Eli asked. "What if someone comes into your office?"

​    "No one is to come in. If any thing needs my attention, they have been directed to message me with details." Thrawn assured him.

​    "Alright." Eli nodded slowly.

​    In response, you kissed him passionately, no longer needing to hold back. It threw him off balance and his hands grabbed your waist to stabilize himself from your eagerness.

​    From behind you, Thrawn guided you with a hand into his bedchambers.

    Lights were low and the bedsheets were turned down. All prepared by the diligent grand admiral.

    "Are you always three steps ahead?" You asked Thrawn playfully and tugged at your jacket collar.

    "I find myself ill prepared to see your full beauty."

    "Smooth." You turned to Eli. "Did you teach him that?"

    "No..." His words trailed off as you stepped away.

    Standing in front of the bed and in full view of your two companions, you stripped out of your uniform completely. You were more than satisfied with how Eli gawked at you. Even a curve came to Thrawn's lips as he took in your form, converting you to memory.

    "I'm a little cold," you said and sat on the bed. "Alone." You made a point to look both men up and down.

    "Ye-- Oh." Eli yanked off his boots.

    You bit your lip to hide your amusement.

    Thrawn followed suit removing his clothes and was already naked while Eli still fumbled with his trousers.

    "That was fast," you commented as Thrawn sat on his legs beside you.

    "You admire efficiency."

    "I do," you sighed as he finally touched you.

    Large blue hands roamed everywhere on your body and kneaded your skin without delay. He pulled you right up to him where you could grasp his biceps to ground yourself.

    "Are you cold presently?" He trailed kisses from your earlobe to your shoulder and back again.

    "Not entirely." You sighed contently from his attention. Finally able to touch what uniforms covered. "Thrawn." You caressed his sides, all muscle and smooth.

    Your name came out in a murmur onto your skin. A need to have you and a promise that he was there for whatever you needed in his arms. You pressed your lips to his shoulder in return. A silent gratefulness to share vulnerability and raw emotion.

    Pulling you onto his thigh, Thrawn urged you to ride him. To gain traction on your arousal. To have you closer. Each pass sent a spark through your core. Still small, but building as your slick coated his thigh.

    "Very good." Crimson eyes sparked with something deep that made your stomach flutter. His hands returned to memorizing your body, every centimeter would not go untouched. Warm lips marked your neck below any collar line. His art piece to worship.

    He certainly has a plan. You thought as you held on to his broad shoulders. But Eli on the other hand is here for the ride.

    Looking off to the side, you watched Eli finish undressing as you rocked back and forth on Thrawn's muscled thigh. Eli stood there bare, physically aroused, and a little overwhelmed with the sight before him.

    "Hey handsome." You called.

    Eli ducked his head.

    His actions made you want to leave kisses all over his face. Bashfulness was rarely seen in the empire.

​    "Lay down at the head of the bed," Thrawn instructed the man.

​    Eli did so. No questions asked or second guessing. On the bed, his hands were frozen to his sides and his chest moving noticably.

    The darling.

​    "He needs you," Thrawn whispered in your ear.

    And I need him. Carnally. The both of them.

    "Don't neglect yourself." You reached around and tapped his butt playfully.

    He smirked.

    Crawling over to Eli, you kissed up from his hip bone to his lips. He hugged you to him, grounding himself in the moment.

    All appeared so spontaneous at first glance. The three of you knew better. The years a part added up and the time together presently could only lead to this. What had been lingering under the surface and concealed in dreams.

    Eli's lips hardly left yours for air. Sharing as many kisses as humanly possible while your bodies found a rhythm on their own. Softly grinding and familiarizing yourselves with one another.

    "Is this alright?" You asked him, brushing back his hair.

    "Y-yes." He swallowed, face clearly flushed. "Are you... Are you comfortable?"

    "I'm with you. Of course I'm comfortable."

    "You are?"

    You nodded and whispered, "If I wasn't completely amazed by you, I wouldn't be here."

    More comfortable himself, he turned your face to him and kissed you confidently. Sweet and exploratory.

    Movement on the bed was the only signal of Thrawn's activities. Kneeling behind you, he ran his fingers between your folds. Slick and warm, he inserted a finger into your entrance.

    "Ah," you gasped.

    Eli kissed your chin and throat affectionately. Rotating his pelvis he sought more friction for his sensitive erection. Likewise each pass of your clit along his length strengthened the heat in your core.

    "I'm amazed by you too," Eli murmured.

    With fingers tangled in his hair, you continued kissing Eli. All too happy to have your favorite men with you.

    Thrawn placed a second finger inside and pumped steadily faster, rubbing your inner walls in a way that had you losing focus. Your hips moved more purposefully against Eli's and consistently with Thrawn's fingers.

    "Thrawn?"

    "Yes?"

    "Are you...alright back there?" You pushed your hips back to his hand.

    "I am quite content. Both of your reactions are stimulating." His free hand groped the flesh of your cheek and pressed your pelvis down.

    Eli let out a small moan at the pressure.

    Oh, yes. Kriff! You thought in a growing fog of sensations. Oh, wow. Something thick and warm tapped against your thigh.

    The man underneath you held you closer as he moved with you. Thrawn added a third finger to thrust into you at an intoxicating rhythm of his own.

​    "Oh, Eli," you left heavy kisses on his neck. Pushing your hips back and forth to meet your lovers in constant pleasure.

    "Do we," Eli gasped, overcome by every touch, "have protection?"

​    "Under the pillow." Thrawn answered and added yet another finger.

    Your hips moved faster. Speeding yourself closer to release.

    Eli fussed with the pillow, only finding what he needed as you bucked onto him.

    Before he tore the packet open, you hit your first climax. Muscles tense for a moment or two. Then you were covering his skin in uncoordinated kisses while you rested your head on his shoulder.

It was new and incredibly exciting. You did not have to choose nor hurt either of their feelings.

    Rubbing circles on your lower back, Thrawn asked you, "Are you ready to continue?"

    "Yes." You traced Eli's lips with your index finger.

    Both men put on protection before proceeding.

    Muscles flexing, Thrawn lifted you up against his chest. The action immediately sent heat between your legs.

    "On your knees," he instructed Eli. "You enter her first."

    "Me?"

    You ran a finger up his length and watched as he shivered.

    So sensitive.

    Doing as instructed again, Eli wasted no time. Once in front of you, Eli took ahold of your waist with one hand to steady you and guided his tip to your entrance with his other hand.

    Strong and observant, Thrawn lowered you slowly. His breath tickling your ear.

    You held onto Eli's shoulders as you sunk down, taking him in.

    "Wow." You breathed out.

    Eli smiled up at you. Ever proud and full of rising affection.

    "I kind of wish this was how we parted ways at the Academy," you lifted your hips. "Then we might have reunited here sooner."

    "I would have been too distracted then." Eli thrusted upwards and sparked in confidence upon seeing your breath catch. "You're too smart to have had chanced affecting your education. Both of you." He eyed Thrawn before he found a rhythm with his hips that made you lock gazes with him. Keeping your attention.

    "We were all too smart." You said.

    Thrawn's hands curled underneath your thighs as you rode Eli, supportive and delicate.

    Attention on the officer before you, surprise took you as Thrawn pressed his chest to your back more noticably.

    Is he?

    Eli and yourself stared at each other with wide eyes when you both felt Thrawn join you, entering your warmth and spreading you more.

    "Oh, Thrawn."

    "Is this what you imagined while we studied in the Academy?" Thrawn asked, voice low in your ear.

    "Can you blame me?"

    The three of you chuckled.

    Perhaps you were not the only one imagining intimate nights.

    The grand admiral added his own rhythm to the pleasurable dance. Effective and most gratifying.

    Eli was right. This would had been too distracting.

    All moving together, light pants filled the space alongside slaps of skin contact. You tangled your fingers in Thrawn's dark locks as he left marks on your shoulder with his lips. With your other hand, you clung to Eli's back while he kissed all over your chest. An organized mess of arousal.

    You could not think of a better reunion. There was less thinking period as both men thrusted rhythmically into you keeping the pleasure building higher.

    "I could hardly...ah...bare being away from...you two." You confessed between gasps for air.

    "It is better that we reunited here than on another ship under someone else's command," Thrawn reasoned with a small pant.

    "I can't believe...huh...we're doing this," Eli gazed between your bodies. "All at once."

    You ran your hand down his chest and murmured breathlessly, "I love it."

    "Me too." He continued watching as, with their support, you bounced on them.

    Thrawn had quickened the pace as your body started angling for more.

    The pleasure was overwhelming, surrounding you. Both men giving you every possible moment of it.

    Eli leaned in to kiss your cheek. A sign of his tenderness. His loyalty and affection.

    Thrawn nipped your shoulder. A sign of his playfulness. His commitment and empathy.

    You squeezed your eyes shut just as your body shook between them, your climax taking over. Sparking every nerve.

    Eli moaned into your skin as your walls constricted. In moments it caused him to release suddenly. His grip on you kept him impossibly close and inside.

    Thrawn continued thrusting faster, holding you up and watching his companions closely. Both Eli and yourself were in a pleasurable haze as you wrapped your arms around one another.

    The tender moment triggered Thrawn's release and he kept himself deep inside of you with Eli. Giving a few more thrusts to finish completely. He nestled his face atop of yours and Eli's.

    A quiet moment between companions. Lovers in bloom.

. . .

    "Wow," you whispered to yourself as you stared up at the ceiling. No need to move as your body held on to the lingering effects of your orgasm. "I could do that all over again. And again and again..."

    And have Thrawn and Eli all over the bed. A small giggle escaped you at the mental images of the men kissing every centimeter of you.

    You rested across the cool sheets as Eli and Thrawn cleaned up. They had cleaned you first, delicately and thoroughly. Never had you ever been so pampered.

    Is this even real life? You sighed contently.

    "Missing us already?" Eli slid into the bed and your awaiting embrace.

    "Completely."

    The two of you kissed slowly and traced each other's features with a newfound tenderness that could no longer be hidden away.

    "I must get back to work." Thrawn stated as he leaned over the mattress and caressed your hip.

    "Right now?" You pouted.

    "We can reconvene tomorrow night if you two wish."

    "Yes," Eli answered quickly.

    "Agreed." You propped yourself up and kissed Thrawn's lips twice over.

    "Good. Now rest." He caressed Eli's cheek tenderly. "I need you both ready for your next shift."

    "That's hours from now," you stated.

    "True." Thrawn dressed himself in his undergarments.

    "We should probably sleep." Eli's fingers followed the curves of your side.

    "You two are welcome to sleep here." Thrawn headed back to his desk, leaving the two of you.

    "You both have nice butts by the way," you said casually, gaze lingering on Thrawn's retreating form.

    "Thank you?" Eli rubbed the back of his neck.

    The two of you snuggled underneath the bedsheets facing one another. Still feeling all light and fuzzy inside from the mind-altering sex. Bodies fit together like puzzle pieces ready to fall into a restful sleep; only missing one blue piece.

​    "Tomorrow night is so far away," you ran your fingers up and down Eli's chest.

​    He sighed, gazing at you adoringly.

​    "How did I get so lucky?" You asked. "I have the both of you back in my life."

​    "I don't know." He added quickly, "I mean, we're lucky. To be together."

    "More than just like this?"

​    "Yes. And we're really naked on his bed." He added.

​    "And there's so much room for another person," you raised your voice slightly. "If only there was someone super intelligent and has a body made for hugging in bed. If only there was a later time to check a datapad."

​    Eli tried muffling his laughter in the pillow.

​    "If only my back wasn't so cold."

​    You felt Eli shaking with quiet laughter.

​    Thrawn's tall figure appeared in the doorway and said in mild amusement, "I finished what needed tending to before tomorrow. You may stop attempting to persuade me to join you. That was my intention."

"I figured as much," Eli pulled back the bedsheets long enough for Thrawn to join.

"Much better." You rolled onto your back. "Good night." You placed your hands over both Thrawn's and Eli's arms that held you close.

"Sweet dreams," Eli whispered onto your temple.

"Rest well." Thrawn tucked his head beside yours.

​    Without a doubt, you knew you were the happiest and most comfortable person in all of the Chimaera. In the middle of your two favorite men, you had never felt more desired and adored. You were all the more grateful, that in the large known galaxy, you were reunited with Thrawn and Eli to face whatever in life came your way.

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DreamerDragon Tags: @cubedtriangle

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