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gemini-sensei · 18 hours

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Poly!Losers!Eli and Demetri x Shy!Popular!Reader Headcanons

Req: I saw your post about popular reader and was wondering if you could do a poly loser Eli and demetri with a shy popular reader headcanons please CW: small amount of smut including voyeurism and a little bit of oral (male receiving), insecurity. Tags: @phoenix062

✨️ Reader never wanted to be popular. She's just popular by proxy. She always hung out with Yasmine and Moon as a kids and as they got older they became the popular kids, bringing Reader along for the ride. She doesn't like the attention and herbfriends know that, so they kind of act like her protectors; especially when they can tell the attention and chatter are too much for her.

✨️ Eli and Demetri are total losers. They spend their time admiring Reader from afar and fantasizing about a relationship with her. They talk about her all the time, usually Demetri without a filter and Eli becoming embarrassed of flustered in response to whatever he says. They do not have the courage to walk up to her and actually say anything because the last time someone tried that, Yasmine bit their head off.

✨️ Their paths don't cross until one day in gym class, everyone is outside playing a game but it's getting hard to keep up. Eli and Demetri run off and hide under the bleachers, planning to stay there until class ends and they can all go change in the locker room. However, they don't expect to find Reader there with a book.

She looks up at them pleasingly amd speaks so softly, "Please don't tell Coach I'm here... I hate close contact sports..."

Demetri grins, seeing an opportunity to finally talk to the girl of his and Eli's dreams. "So do we," he laughs and they sit down. "What are you reading?"

✨️ They have a nice conversation, for what it's worth. Reader doesn't talk too much and Eli clams up because he's in the presence of the girl he's been crushing on for years. It gets quiet between them fast but it's not an awkward silence. Reader likes quiet more often than not and doesn't mind it, while Demetri and Eli like it because they get to admire her upclose and she's not asking them questions about it.

✨️ Just before the class ends, she's gets up so she can be the first person in the locker room so she can change into her normal clothes without others around. She waves bye to Eli and Demetri before she's too far away though. They wave back, too happy with how things played out to even speak.

✨️After that, they're even more in love with Reader. And to be clear, she didn't do or say anything special, she just sat and talked to them a little bit. Again, they're just pathetic losers lol.

✨️ Reader thinks they're cute. And now that she's seen them, they can't blend in anymore. However, just because she's popular doesn't make her confident. She's too shy to approach them. If they have a class together, lucky them, but it'd nothing special - well, Reader doesn't think she's all thay special in comparison to her friends, but Eli and Demetri think otherwise.

✨️ When they're alone, Eli and Demetri talk about her nonstop. It's a little embarrassing tbh but they don't care. Conversations will start off sweet and innocent but devolve into something more spicy. Especially if Reader wore a pretty outfit that showed off all of her curves and nice tits.

✨️ Those conversations usually lead to Demetri sucking Eli off to turn him into a whiny little loser. He doesn't say much of anything the whole time and just whines so pretty, maybe letting out Reader's name here and there but that's about it.

✨️ After many weeks of that, Demetri gets tired of moping about wishing they were with Reader. But what chance do they really have? After all, she's pretty and popular while they're barely ever given a second glance. Little do they know that Reader is aware of them, more so than they think - and it isn't because she wants to be mean to them like they think of her peers...

✨️ She wants them but has no idea how to approach them. So she asks her friends for advice. Yasmine and Moon are more than happy to assist Reader with her desire to ask out a cure guy (or two) and take her shopping. While out and about, they give her all sorts of tips and tricks to gain the confidence she needs to ask someone out and get a date.

✨️ Demetri and Eli almost think it's a joke when she approaches them one day and finally asks them out. However, that's outweighed by how cute she looks while doing it, shyly wringing her wrists and looking down at the ground while talking to them. Demetri lets out an enthusiastic "yes!" while Eli nods vigorously. She smiles at them and tells them that's great but that she's also never been on a date before, so she doesn't know what to really do...

✨️ They assure her that this will be their first date too because while Demetri and Eli are kind of together, they never made it official. They've played it off as being best friends for a long time but they both know they're more than that. Now they're going on a date with Reader and it's all they could have ever wanted.

✨️ They end up going to the arcade and showing her all of the best games that will give them the most tickets. She and Eli play side by side on the multiplayer games, sharing little smiles with each other while Demetri works on getting some tickets. At one point, Reader is struggling with one game and Demetri comes up behind her to help, putting his hands over her and basically playing the game for her. She's so fluttered but so happy about it at the same time, it's amazing.

✨️ By the time they're walking up to the prize counter so they can have dinner, Demetri has gotten enough tickets for a big prize and lets Reader pick something out. She gets one of the big stuffed animals from the top rack and it's perfect, Eli thinks so anyone.

✨️ The night ends in Reader's car; well, not really end because they sit in the backseat together to keep from taking them home. She doesn't want it to be over yet, feeling like it went by too fast. Reader put the backseat down so they'd have all the room in the back to sit together, putting a movie on her laptop for them. However, it's quickly forgotten about when Demetri decides he should make a move and puts a hand on her thigh.

✨️ Before they know it, they're making out in the back of her car, Eli watching and patiently waiting for him turn. Reader pulls away flushed and hot, only to turn to Eli and kiss him. She can't think about how shy she usually is because her other feelings (and hormones) are driving her to do these things she's never done before. She feels like she's on top of the world with Eli's tongue in her mouth and Demetri's hands wandering her body.

✨️ Demetri and Eli are feverish and sloppy with her, thinking that they'll never get this chance again. They pull little squeaks and moans from her as they feel her up and make out with her, only for her to stop them because she doesn't want to go too far. She shyly explains that she likes what they're doing but if they go any farther, she doesn't want it to be in the back of her car. That's reasonable and they get it, but they're also hard and horny.

✨️ So she sits back and watches them as Demetri fucks Eli in the back of her car. It gets her all hot and bothered, but she just watches, though she'll take care of things later on her own because she's just not ready. She can't deny that they're super hot though. Demetri makes Eli look at Reader the whole time he gets fucked until he's whining about needing to come and he asks her to help him finish. She does and swallows, making Demetri finish inside Eli.

✨️ She drives them home and asks them if she's they're girlfriend now, to which they happily tell her that she can be whatever she wants to be. She giggles and tells them she'd like to be theirs and they're more than happy with that response.

✨️ It was a bit of an awkward, wild date, but it ended a lot better than any of them could have anticipated. They can't wait to go on another...

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vibratingskull · 22 hours

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Hiiii I love your fics so much that I'm genuinely suffering from Yandere Thrawn Brainrot 😭 can I pretty please request Yandere Thrawn x fem reader where the reader is just accepting of his behaviour? like maybe she's a rebel who has been just abandoned by her friends so she just gives in because actually the attention he gives is really nice when she behaves or maybe she's one of the emperors daughters who is always kind of forgotten about in comparison to her sisters so Thrawns attitude isn't a red flag for her because he treats her so nice and has never once sidelined her or forgotten anything about her! I just think it's an interesting idea to play with like I'm sure Yandere Thrawn would be ecstatic to have a partner who doesn't bat an eye to his behaviour and soaks it up desperately, even the brothel fic you made could fit with Yandere Thrawn (look at how bad the brainrot is LMAOOOOO) ofc I'd have to request some smut in it like maybe he eats her out on his command chair 🤭 (that's all I can think about since the last Yandere thrawn AU you just posted haha make it as crazy as you want it to be tbh I love giving you full reign over this your smut is like high quality wine for me at this point!) Anyways! Before I get completely off track and send you a whole essay of ideas I just wanna say that I cheered when I saw your requests open and you don't have to write this idea or if you prefer to tweak it then that's absolutely fine! I hope you're doing amazing and I'm looking forward to your beautiful creations!!!

Yandere Thrawn is best boy, you cannot change my mind! He can be a murderous psycho or a complete puppy if you play your cards well. Aaaaaaaw thank you dear ❤️❤️❤️❤️ I'm really happy you like my silly stuffs, even the smutty ones (i'm so not confident about those), it will be a 2 parters !

ThrawnxF!reader

Tags: Yandere behavior (duh), possessive, painting, meet cute

You sigh, sitting alone at the table. You make your drinks twirl in your glass, silently observing the ballroom. Your hand supporting your chin you look at the couples dancing, the lively discussions around the room, the laughs and smiles, the kisses exchanged behind closed doors, and the champagne flowing freely.

You catch one of your sisters dancing with a suitor, a metal and gaz magnate infinitely rich, they have been glued to one another during the entire party. You turn your head to see another one leading a political discussion with her natural charm, they all laugh at her witty comebacks and believe every word she speaks like gospel. You turn again to see your third sister on the stage, singing softly a beautiful melody, admired by the rest of the audience.

And then there is you...

The fourth.

The last one.

You do not have the charisma, the talent, or the political gene to rival any of your sisters. No one knows what to do with you. Everyone planned a beautiful future for all your three sisters to make the Empire shine brighter but you? Nobody has any idea. All your professors searched for a secret talent, a hidden jewel, hoping you are simply a late bloomer.

But nothing came.

Oh, you tried. You tried so hard! Spending sleepless nights working on your studies to at least hope for a well-made brain. But you are so average, both in looks and intellect. Nothing shines about you, nothing is worth noting.

You sigh and finish your drink.

Your only little quirk is your paintings. That’s the only thing distinguishing you from your sisters, you not failing art class. It is quite fondly regarded when you’re five but when you’re an adult princess of the Empire you need other qualities and skills than a good brush move.

You just wanted to go to art school and live simply, not that overdramatic life wrapped in politics and secrecy. You wish not for the power and the riches, they bring you too much headaches. You want to leave the Palace, find a small apartment, get a cat, and for everyone to forget your existence and leave you in peace.

But no... Not a chance.

This very party is a shining example. It is officially a diplomatic meeting between high political top hats but the true goal of your father is to show off his daughters in the hope you find a future husband, wealthy and powerful, and then marry you off.

Nothing more. Nothing less.

You are a prop to your father’s politics. Good to lure a man and his funds into the imperial bank.

And right now you are failing spectacularly. Now that you mind per se, but the man you call father and emperor will inevitably learn about that and you don’t want to anger him. You still value your life.

You sigh again mentally preparing yourself to stand up and try to “seduce” men, feeling a headache rising, when-

“Will you allow me to join you?” A rich deep voice makes you turn your head.

Grand Admiral Thrawn, a hand on the back of the other chair of your table, is looking at you with a small grin and sparkling eyes.

“Oh...” You can only say, surprised for him to spawn out of nowhere, “I mean yes! Of course Grand Admiral.”

“Thank you, your majesty.” He bows his head.

He elegantly sits down next to you. Even his manners are impeccable, full of grace and dexterity. You feel so slow and clumsy next to him. You see his long, delicate fingers hovering over the canapes before choosing one and lifting it to his mouth to bite into it.

Maker, even Military officers are more dignified than you... You subconsciously straighten your back to at least match the energy he brings to the table, trying not to appear too sluggish.

You know this man for being the first and only alien to have reached the Grand Admiral rank, which is really impressive, you will give him that. He always struck you as a balanced and polite man. He revealed himself as an art enjoyer on your first meeting and very nicely proposed himself as a model for male anatomy. You accepted and you meet every other month when he comes back from his campaigns. He lets you draw and paint his body in silence for long hours before coming to take a look and give you advice from time to time.

And then he leaves. And that’s the end of that.

Or it is the end of your relationship because he seems to roam around the residency aisle of the palace a lot. Numerous times you caught the back of his head disappearing behind a corner when you left your studio after a long painting session. You have no idea what he comes here for in the residency wing of the Palace, nothing interesting for a Grand Admiral around here.

As a matter of fact, you do have an idea why he comes to this part of the Palace, you suspect he comes to visit one of your sisters regularly. And he must be seriously enamored for risking the wrath of the Emperor! You don’t even want to imagine his reaction if he discovered the Alien got access to one of his dear eldest!

You just hope the sister in question takes her precautions to not get caught.

That would also be a huge waste for the Grand Admiral, if an alien such as him managed to reach this rank it means he must be terribly good at what he does! Not that the Emperor shares any tactical info with you, his daughters, it is a simple observation. And he looks rather dashing too... Your vain side would be devastated to learn such a handsome man would be executed, that would be such a loss for the Galaxy you nod to yourself.

You remain silent, observing the guests and your sisters shining in their dresses and jewelry. They are so radiant, you think with envy. Typically the type of women a man as handsome as the Grand Admiral would pursue, they are in the same league.

Contrary to you.

You start feeling a tingle at the back of your neck and you turn your head to discover Grand Admiral Thrawn silently looking in your direction smiling softly. You spin your head again to see what he might be watching with such tenderness in his red gaze, only to see...

Nothing?

You frown.

“It is you I am looking at.” Thrawn’s deep voice rises again, with a touch of controlled amusement.

You turn back to him with an embarrassed smile.

“Oh, I just thought you saw... Nothing.”

He tilts his head slightly.

“What did you think I saw?”

“I don’t know, something interesting.” You take your glass to your lips to sip, feeling your throat going dry.

“But I am looking at something interesting. The most interesting person in this room.”

Oh okay.

You know where this is going, you know that sweet sugary tone.

“What do you want Grand Admiral?” You put your glass back with a clank, “What demand do you want me to ask my father?”

He cocks his head again, squinting like he didn’t understand your question.

“I have no demand to ask your father.”

“Of course you don’t.” You snort.

They always do that. Come with a sweet voice and a compliment and then beg you to interfere with your father in their favor.

You are no political genius but you recognize a freeloader when you meet one!

“You always come to me! You think I am the weakest and easiest to manipulate for your benefit, you come with doe eyes and then ask outrageous demands, in the hope of gaining political powers. Well, I am sorry, go knock on another door!" You speak irritated but low to not start any drama.

Vice Admiral Thrawn blinks at you. He shakes his head, trying to disarm the situation.

"I assure you, Your Majesty, I did not come to ask any political favors of any kind.” He reiterates softly, “I simply saw you, so beautifully dressed and dolled up and could not help but come to you.”

You sniff with disdain. Lies. If he doesn’t want political favors from your father then he wants access again to one of your sister's beds, another classic you had to deal with!

“I am sorry Grand Admiral.” You say coldly, “I have nothing to give you.”

His smile widens and you hear a low chuckle.

“But on the contrary, it is me who wants to give you something, Your Majesty.”

You look at him suspiciously as he takes something from his pocket. He puts a little box hermetically sealed in front of you. You tentatively take it and open the lid to discover a colorful powder in a tangerine shade.

You look at him mouth agape and mute with surprise.

“I heard you needed this shade to finish your latest painting.” He says softly, “I traveled the galaxy and found this powder made from local seashells in an isolated world. I saw it and knew I needed to get it for you.”

This shade...

Is the exact one you need, down to a t.

“How... How did you...?”

“That is not important, Your Majesty I know how much you care about this painting and wanted to help you.”

This painting, you saw it in your dreams.

It was a flash of a faded memory of your dead mother, smiling at you before the sunset. Long, long ago...

This powder is the perfect shade for her eyes...

“Oh dear Maker...” You start sobbing, hiding your mouth behind your hand.

“Your Majesty?” Grand Admiral Thrawn asks, “Are you all right?”

You nod, wiping any tear that might have rolled down your cheek, getting back control over your sobs.

“Yes... Yes. Thank you Grand Admiral, this is a very thoughtful gift.” You smile at him.

Now you feel dumb to have given him the cold shoulder.

But how did he know about that painting? You don’t remember talking about it to anyone? You specifically hid it behind a sheet.

“You are welcome, Your Majesty. It is my pleasure.”

His hand furtively reaches yours and caresses your finger with the tips of his own. You let him do it. You don’t know why. It is simply not unpleasant...

“I just thought... I’m going to sound stupid, bear with me, I thought you wanted to use me to get close to my sisters.” You chuckle embarrassed, “It is a bit stupid...”

“Why would I want to get close to your sisters when you are here?” He asks.

“Because... I am just me.” You shrug like it is evident, “Nobody knows what to do with me.”

“I have plenty of ideas of what we could do together.” He whispers, taking your hand gently to kiss it, his red eyes looking brazenly at you.

You feel heat spreading on your cheeks.

“Vice Admiral!” You choke “How dare... We are in the middle of a ballroom!” You chastise him.

“We can leave anytime you desire...” He licks your knuckles with the tip of his warm tongue, looking insolently at you.

You feel yourself melting into a puddle at that gaze on you. So many unchaste images cross his read shining eyes while devoring you. You feel stripped naked before him. You gulp and turn your head away, you cannot hold his gaze, you feel like you’re about to combust.

He chuckles and kisses your hand again.

“I am merely joking, Your Majesty. I know you cannot simply fool around with any man. But maybe you will allow me this dance?” He stands up, still holding your hand but awaits your response.

You gingerly look at him. Dear Maker, he is so tall...

He looks at you with a small smile, gently squeezing your hand.

“I... Can allow one dance.” You concede.

“You are so generous with me, Your Majesty. I thank you.”

He helps you stand and guides you to the dancefloor, his warm hand on your lower back. He spins toward you and grabs your hand, pressing your two bodies together.

“Hold on to me, Your Majesty.” He says sensually.

And he makes you spin and twirl on the dancefloor, holding you so close you can feel his high body warmth through your clothes. He is a very, very good dancer you realize.

The dance starts normal and modest as it should be but it slowly dissolves into... something else.

You can feel his large hands roaming your entire body, playing with the straps of your dress, raising the hem of your dress to touch your naked thigh, he grabs the pin and frees your hair in your back, he grabs your hips to press them against his in a sultry move, almost grabbing your butt...

It feels like he is making love to you, fully clothed and in public. You fail to put a stop to it and protect your modesty, he is just so good at it that you blindly follow him, losing track of time.

You gulp, losing your breath as he makes your head spin dangerously. He never once stops looking at you, devouring you with his shiny rubies, hunger lying deep in them.

You are breathless, straps down your shoulders, your skirt high on your thighs and your legs trembling terribly, threatening to give out under you if Grand Admiral Thrawn wasn't holding you firmly against his tall body.

“Gra.. Grand Admiral...” You can only say.

“Is there a problem, Your Majesty? We are simply dancing, like I promised we would only do.”

“This is not a dance! This is...” You try to get angry at him but your beating heart only pumps blood to your cheeks even more.

“You did not stop me once.” He tilts his head, “If you said no I would have stopped immediately.”

“Someone could see us! Someone-”

“There are a lot of people around us. They hide you perfectly, no one will ever know. You can let go entirely, let me guide you...” He whispers sultrily in your ear.

His hand on your back slowly caresses his way down towards your butt and his hand on your leg slowly brushes his way up towards your crotch.

This... This is so indecent!

So scandalous!

So obscene!

So...

You should slap him across the face and ditch him there but you want more of it. You feel fire starts in your loin, slowly spreading in your veins, coursing through your entire body.

Quite unexpectedly he lets you go. You look at him without understanding, he grins and kisses your hand gallantly again.

“Have a nice evening, Your Majesty. Thank you for this... Delicious moment. I will see you for our next modeling session.” He rolls his ‘R’ like a purr and leaves.

Did he...

Is he the one who ditched you? At the height of the tension? When you were about to say ‘yes’ to him? You remain standing still in the middle of the dancefloor, mouth agape, breathless, hair and dress in a mess. You walk back to your seat, your legs wobbly at every step.

You feel played.

How dares he come around to set you on fire and just leave you, arms dangling, craving for so much more?! Such a ... Tease! You readjust your dress modestly, making sure none of your sisters saw anything of this... Outrageous display. None of them are looking in your direction, they are fully focused on their friends or songs.

You sigh, feeling like an idiot. Typically a thing that wouldn’t have happened to your sisters, they would have either put a stop to it or enchanted him so much that he would have dropped to his knees, begging for more of them.

You're the only one dunce enough to get played like that.

But... You cannot help but like it. It felt good to be someone’s center of the universe, even for two fleeting minutes, feeling his daring hands exploring your body so... immodestly. No man ever treated you like that, even less a man so handsome...

You shake your head. Stop that! It is blind lust speaking.

Your eyes lay down on the little box. You reopen it, to be sure of its content. Exactly the pigment you needed, the exact shade and vibrance...

How did he know?

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

The first time he saw you was during an Imperial ceremony, from far away. The youngest of all the daughters, dressed in gold, pearls, and Orichalc. He was still a simple commodore back then, without as much power to himself. He was from very far away, not able to discern the features of your face, but it was clear from your body language and posture you didn’t want to be here.

Like himself.

Pryce was unavailable, a rarity for a shark like her to miss a political event like that, but she pressed him to go, to form alliances with as many senators as possible. How on the Warrior’s Blue Csilla was he supposed to do that? He is surrounded by sharks and snakes ready to eat each other for their selfish benefits, something so beyond him he simply forgets this is actually a thing people do instead of worrying for the good of the many...

Saying he was terrified would be false, but saying he was comfortable would be a lie.

It takes a lot to make him uncomfortable, but politicians always do the trick.

So in a weird way, he felt kinship towards you. He knew nothing about you, he was not even sure of your rank at that very moment, but like him, you wished you weren't there at that moment.

The massive difference was that he was anonymously sitting in the grandstand while you were on the big stage, to be looked at and admired like a pretty doll by everyone else. How uncomfortable it must feel... He felt sorry for you.

Despite your discomfort, you accomplished your duties with grace, obeying your role. It was commendable of you.

“Who are those young ladies on the side of the stage?” He leaned towards his sit neighbor.

“Do you live under a rock? They are the Emperor’s daughters, the Imperial princesses.” He got chastised.

He nodded thankfully and returned to his silent observation of the ceremony.

It was not so long in retrospect, but isolated on this stage it must have felt like an eternity for you.

After the ceremony was the real challenge for him, for two hours he had to remain comfortably seated in silence to observe a stage, now he was truly meant to go out of his way and meet politicians.

He had to take refuge to the buffet or the corners of the room more than one time. Why can’t he read and anticipate politicians’ maneuvers? Why was he so blind to this type of warfare? After a new uncomfortable discussion that ended up with him pissing off his interlocutor because they couldn’t meet eyes to eye he caught a cozy area, almost hidden behind heavy curtains with sofas and a fountain, isolated from the rest of the busy party. He entered, hoping to find some peace and quiet but he found a young woman here, dressed in gold, pearl, and Orichalc.

“Your Majesty.”Thrawn bowed respectfully, “I did not want to disturb your peace, I will leave.” He immediately excused himself and turned to go away

When...

“You may stay, sir.” You simply responded, not even looking up from your drink twirling in your glass. “I do not mind...”

“I thank you, Your Majesty.” He bowed again and took a seat.

Not on the same sofa as you, it would be terribly improper to impose his presence on a woman like that. He chose one a little removed from you to leave you in peace.

He was gathering his thoughts, but you kept catching his eyes, something about you was...interesting him. And he didn’t know what, nor the true nature of his interest in you.

“What?” You asked out of the blue, “You keep giving me side glance, you never saw a woman before?”

“My apologies, Your Majesty. It was impolite of me”

“Yes, it is. My father killed men for less than that.” You added acidic.

Something in your tone and demeanor... Like a heavy lassitude, like you were crushed by something. But what?

“I will keep it in mind, then. Thank you for the warning, Your Majesty.”

You sniffed with disdain before looking back down to your drink.

“So it’s you....” You finally added after several minutes of silence, “the Navy’s favorite pet.”

He turned back his gaze to you, squinting.

“The Navy’s pet?” He repeated politely.

“The only alien in the Navy, and a Commodore at that. You pissed off a lot of people, my congratulations.”

He was not able to judge if you were sincere or sarcastic.

“I do my best to do my job. But some people never seem satisfied, I cannot do anything more to content them, I am afraid.” He humbly admits.

“Like me.” You let out with a little voice.

You did not say more and he did not pryied.

“Why are you not enjoying the party, Your Majesty?” He asked, curious, “Your sisters are getting their fill.”

You snarled in response.

“If you came here to flaunt my dear sisters in my face you can leave, sir.”

“My apologies, Princess. I was simply curious why a young adult would not enjoy such a party.” He explained.

You turned your head and for the first time your gazes crossed.

“What about you? You do not seem the type to enjoy parties either.”

“My young years are behind me.”

You frowned.

“Are they?”

Well technically he is still considered rather young for Chiss standards with their longer lifespan but for humans, he is middle-aged. But you don’t know that.

“I am over 45.” He informed you.

The way your beautiful human eyes rounded up in surprise was quite delectable.

“You’re kidding.”

“I am not.”

“You barely look 35.” You responded astonished.

He came to understand it was a compliment on his physical appearance. Something he was not used to.

“I thank you, your Majesty. You look ravishing yourself.”

He stopped dead. Was ‘ravishing’ too much? How do you respond politely to a woman appreciating your physical appearance, and what is the proper and polite response when that woman is an Imperial Princess?

You gauged him up and down before exploding laughing.

Not one of those overly musical and false laughs of politicians and freeloaders, a true, pure, and sincere fit of laughter. Something coming directly from the heart.

Something fresh.

He remained still, not knowing how to react. Your laugh was quite pleasant to hear, and the smile you tried to hide behind your hand enhanced your features gracefully.

“Oh Maker.” You breathe to calm down, “You are quite funny, sir!”

He failed to see what was funny in his response but he was not starting to question a Princess. You sighed deeply, still shaken by the remnants of your laugh. At least you were smiling now, that heavy sentiment hovering over you seemed to have disappeared. At least for now.

“Thank you, your Majesty.” He diplomatically responded.

“So tell me truly, why did you come hiding here?” You asked, a bit more lively.

This time he was the one looking down at his drink for a fleeting moment.

“Politics... Evade me entirely.” He finally reveals.

“Same.”

He looked at you curiously.

“But you are a Princess of the Empire.”

“That doesn’t mean I can lead. I dislike politics. I prefer my studio.”

A studio? The type he is hoping for?

“What type of studio?”

“Oh ... Just.” You gave him a side glance and lowered your gaze, embarrassed “No. You will find it stupid.”

“I will not judge, Your Majesty.” He solemnly declared.

“I ... Paint. A little...”You revealed, fidgeting your fingers.

His heart jumped and all of his social anxiety and restraints lifted up like a cloud. You paint? It’s marvelous news! He loves paintings, why not tell him sooner?

“This is not stupid, Your Majesty. Art is a very noble and respectable hobby, I am a humble art enjoyer myself.” He explained calmly, keeping his growing enthusiasm on a leash. “Would you have pictures of your work to show me by any chance?” He daringly asked

You looked at him absolutely horrified.

Please, do not look at him like that...It displeases him, even though he doesn’t quite know why.

He likes it when women are comfortable with him, it is gratifying to be perceived as a protector. He wants you to feel relaxed around him.

Especially you

For some unknown reasons...

“I... No!” You hurriedly responded.

He tilted his head. He wanted to see some of your work. It is so important for artists to be seen and perceived for them to flourish in their talents.

He just wanted to give you a positive boost... But you denied him.

“I understand.” He responded, a bit disappointed to have lost this opportunity to speak about art.

You looked at him, embarrassed before rising on your feet to close the curtain entirely, giving the little salon a cozy and very intimate atmosphere. You took out your imager of your little purse and approached him shyly, suddenly self-conscious.

He looked at you approaching with an impassible expression, but hope constricted his heart.

“Do you promise to not mock me?” You asked like you weren't an Imperial Princess with significant powers.

No. At this very instant you were a shy, but hopeful young artist, ready to expose herself intimately to a fellow art enjoyed, pressing your imager against your chest.

You were taking a leap of faith...

And he was ready to catch you in his arms.

“I never mock an artist, Your Majesty.” He declared with all the serious in the world.

You gulped and sat down next to him, handing him the imager with a slightly trembling hand.

“This is not very good...” You warned him.

Who cares? If you are a beginning artist with a low level he will be more than happy to give you references and art currents to study to help you in your art journey.

But you were actually really good with a brush. No need to get all shy about it, you should be proud of your paintings!

You studied a lot of subjects and tried a lot of different techniques and materials, your style could be soft and appeasing with pastel colors, bold and brash with vibrant brush strokes, or gloomy and eerie, creating a haunting atmosphere.

But no matter how different your paintings might be there was one very clear constant for him.

Your innate good and soft nature.

Not in a fragile or virginal way, no. But something bright, shining like a real sun, luminous, warm, inescapable, and unstoppable...

How could you be Emperor Palpatine’s daughter?

How was that possible?

He silently observed your work under your worried gaze, awaiting his judgment. It is clear you hid this part of yourself from everyone else, and maybe he was the very first person who took interest in your hobby, the very first one you let gaze upon yourself so intimately like that...

Because it was very intimate, he knew it. He stripped your soul naked before him and he ogled without any shame, taking as many details as he could.

And he very much liked what he saw.

Where were gentle souls like yours in the galaxy? They appeared so rare and he would very much appreciate one in his life. A friend honest and deeply good by nature...

That sounds terribly enticing to him.

He knew nobody on Coruscant, spending his entire leaves in art galleries. But maybe now he could visit them with a nice company at his arm? Simple rendezvous filled with passionate discussions about art, speaking and debating a subject until you both lose your voices and only look into each other eyes to continue the discussion.

That sounds terribly nice...

But you are a Princess and him a Commodore. How would that work? He was not even sure he had the right to be in the same room as you.

But the idea was just so nice... An art partner, being friends with an actual artist, getting to witness the intricate process of creating a masterpiece.

That is just so alluring to him...

“So?” you asked with a short breath.

“This is high-quality work, Princess. You have an undeniable talent and obviously worked really hard to get to this level.” He praised, “I can only encourage you to continue.”

“You think... I could live on my brush one day?” You inquired, hope lying in your voice.

“It is a real possibility, I can see it happening.” He nodded with a tight encouraging smile.

“... Thank you.” You let him knew, “I...”

You seemed to be about to say something else but suddenly jumped on your feet, the heat signals of your face through the roof.

“I need to go! Good evening Sir!” And like that you left him, speechless, still holding your precious imager.

Maybe the tension of showing your art to someone else for the first time was too much for you. This was quite endearing and he let out a little chuckle amused.

He resumed his art exploration on your imager, he will find a way to send it back to you.

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

He didn’t sent it back.

He kept it, he has it every day in his inner pocket, close to his heart. He rummages through it when he can, seeing you through the pictures, getting to know you through each paint stroke.

He innocently thought about you two becoming art friends to satisfy his knowledge cravings, but instead, he developed an... interesting bound with you.

Without your knowledge.

He tried several times to come to see you at your art studio to give it back, only to remain at the door, silently spying on you painting through the cracked door.

He wished not to disturb the holy inspiration flow so precious to artists. He would break your entire rhythm if he knocked at the door and stopped you.

How could he dare disturb the process of art? Especially yours? So he remained at the door for long hours until you decided to exit the room or he heard someone come by.

When you weren’t here he forced the door open to tidy up the place and look at your last pieces.

But one day you were simply preparing yourself to paint so he entered. Unannounced, unwanted he walked in like he owned the place. You didn’t see him at first, focusing on your flimsy sheets when you raised back on your feet to discover him observing your latest piece with attention, his hand holding his chin, appreciating every detail.

“Oh dear Maker!” You jumped back.

He turned his head to you with a tight smile.

“My apologies, Princess.” He said not at all sorry.

“What are you doing here?!” You asked in some sort of panick.

“Your father requested my presence today, and I had hoped to be able to catch you paint.” He mundanely explained it like it was evidence.

“And why is that?” You asked suspiciously, hiding some sketches behind you.

“My apologies Princess, I got ahead of myself. I have something belonging to you and wanted to give back.”

He took out the small imager of his pocket to hand it to you. He already has several copies and backups of all your art.

“My imager!” You shouted, relieved. “Where did you get it?”

“You actually gave it to me years ago when I was still a Commodore.” He explains gently.

You took the imager back and looked in the gallery, with an elated smile.

“I don’t think I ever caught your name, Mister.” You raise back your clear gaze at him.

Of course, you knew his name, he was the only alien of the fleet, surely his name traveled the corridors of the Palace and he knew it. But Politeness and etiquette demanded you asked.

And you are a very polite woman.

He put his right hand on his heart and bowed to you.

“I am Vice Admiral Thrawn. I am delighted to meet you again, Your Majesty.”

You elegantly bowed back.

“I am (Y/n) (L/n).”

“Are you not a Palpatine?” Thrawn tilted his head.

You bite your lower lips, like you spoke too much.

“I... Prefer to identify with my mother’s name.” You explain.

“It is a very beautiful name, it suits you marvelously.” He reassured you, “Do you mind if I remain for your next session? I long to observe an artist in their element.”

“Oh well...” You spin your head towards the holo clock on the wall and all of your glee seems to melt, your smile disappearing, “I am afraid there won’t be a session today... Yet again.”

Thrawn squinted.

“Is there a problem, your Majesty?”

“No its...” You sighed deeply, “Another model ditched me apparently. He should have been here an hour ago...”

“If you allow me, your Majesty, I can replace him if you wish.” Thrawn proposed immediately.

“I...” You purse your lips, thinking “I usually book models for three to four hours, are you sure you have that time?”

“I do today.” He answered politely, hiding his enthusiasm, “By a splendid hasard I have nothing booked for the rest of the day. I can model for you as long as you need.”

He very carefully planned today’s agenda to have his afternoon and evening free after his visit to the Emperor. It will postpone some operations on the Chimaera, but nothing he cannot catch up on, he made sure of it.

You hesitated, your gaze traveling from Thrawn’s stern face to your flimsy sheets.

It is the fifth model ditching you.

The fifth Thrawn got rid off.

Cleanly.

Discreetly.

When he entered your studio in your absence he got the occasion to detail your work and picked up on your... attraction, towards those young men.

Something that infuriated him greatly, even though he wasn’t sure why. He never felt like that before, longing for your presence, to get to know you better and well. This is a very new sentiment to him, he desires to be with you, to listen to you talk, to help you, to just be here in the same room as you. You could be silent and still, sitting on a pedestal and he would sit and look at you with all his attention, trying to pierce your secrets.

Why are you doing that to him? Where does this deep sentiment of covetousness come from? Right now he just wants to grab your hand and flee away from the Imperial Palace with you, take the first shuttle and take off for the never-ending universe, take you far away from that man you call father and Emperor for you both to live free.

He always feels so cold all day long, but in your vicinity, everything warms up, the ice melts, and the sun dares from its rays on his flesh, bringing him back to life and waking him up from a long coma. Laying his gaze on you he feels like opening his eyes for the first time and taking his first breath.

Is that... Love?

Did Cupid finally hit him with an arrow after ignoring him all his life?

He quite likes how that sounds.

He wants more. So, so much more...

But for now, he looked at you hesitating, patient, with a tight polite smile of someone only desiring to help.

“Well... If it isn’t too much trouble for you, I would appreciate it. What about a portrait to start?”

“But of course, Your Majesty. I am here to serve.” He bowed his head again deeply pleased that his plan worked.

He cannot help but wonder, how do you see him? Is he handsome or repulsive to your eyes? Is he powerful or weak?

He will soon know it through your primary sketches...

-------

“What are you thinking about Grand Admiral Thrawn?” You call him back to reality

Thrawn blinks, realizing he is posing for you once again in your studio. It is quite rare that he lets his memories take the forefront of his mind but his mind drifted off observing you painting him like that.

You took great care to not look at him in the eyes since that party and he is greatly pleased by the turmoil he stirred within you. Today again you cannot look in his direction without your face’s heat signals rising.

How delectable...

You draped a long fabric on him and gave him a staff to hold, ordering his pose, and started to paint. Holding the pose is hard but that only pushes him to appreciate art even more. He feels your focused gaze skimming his skin, detailing his muscles, observing the crooks and crannies of his flesh, taking in the different shades of blue of his skin.

He feels his heart accelerating with your eyes traveling his naked form.

He never exposed himself in such a way to anybody before.

It is so intimate.

So erotic...

He feels great under your gaze, he feels... Empowered. Like he could become what he was always meant to be under your brush, that through your gaze he truly could realize himself. He feels his chest puffing up with pride and satisfaction. That surge of warmth spreading in his chest and heart when your eyes skim his skin feels so soft and right...

“You truly have mesmerizing eyes, I hope I will be able to do them justice...” You say almost to yourself, fully focused on your sketch.

“We could do a series of portraits after, you could study them in detail.” He proposes.

“Thank you Grand Admiral.” You smile.

“Please, call me Thrawn, Your Majesty. I am a simple man at your art service in this room.”

“Then call me (Y/n).” You decide, “Let’s just be a man and a woman for this afternoon.”

“I simply cannot, Your Majesty. You are an Imperial Princess, I cannot address you with such familiarity.” He counters.

Who is he to address you so casually? He will not strip you down of your titles and grandeur.

You pout, visibly displeased by his response.

“All right...” You say very disappointed.

He clenches his jaw, conscious of his misstep.

“If you truly desire it, I will address you as you wish (Y/n).” He responds softly.

But in his mind he will keep using your titles, they suit you so well.

You nodd enthusiastically, relieved by his new response.

“Do you want to take a look?” You ask.

He descends from the pedestal and passes on a gown to modestly cover himself, but he doesn’t close it, coming to admire your genius on the canvas, discovering himself through your own eyes.

You take a picture with your imager that he gave back, adding it to your collection. His heart sprints at the view of the imager in a very Pavlovian response.

He had... other uses for your imager.

He will never admit it, not even under torture, but... He furiously masturbated several times using your art collection on the imager. He has no rational explanation for it. One day he was terribly bothered, to his utmost inconvenience, and hoped that some nice paintings could distract him.

But instead

He just got such a clear picture of you, of your good nature, of your amazingly sweet personality that he became hard like wood, worsening the situation. He found a self-portrait of yourself, looking straight back at him with such a clear and assured gaze... And he just lost it.

He fisted himself, entranced by those expressive eyes looking brazenly at him.

He never came so hard before, his entire body struck by lightning, setting fire to his very soul. He was left breathless and disoriented, his large chest rising up and down rapidly, your impudent gaze fixing him intently.

The high was so high the descent was devastating, leaving him craving more of you, by any means necessary...

That’s when he decided to enter your studio for the first time.

Thrawn discovers the canvas.

He discovers himself slouching regally on a throne like he is presiding over a tedious political case and is about to give his royal judgment.

You remain a step behind, fidgeting your fingers.

“What do you think?” You ask a bit worried.

An idea flashes in his mind, a bad idea, but oh so delicious...

“Technically very interesting and avant-garde. But there is something...” He teases sadistically.

“Something? What? What is wrong? What did I do wrong?” You immediately panick.

“Are you familiar with male anatomy?” He asks, falsely investigating.

Of course, you are familiar with it, he saw you paint it plenty of times.

“Yes! I am!” You protest.

“Let’s see...” He gently takes your hands to place them on his large pecs.

Your eyes round up in surprise and your breath is caught in your throat.

“Feel the muscles, how they are built in the body.” He casually instructs while he takes your hands for a jaunt on his body, caressing himself with your soft palms.

“Hum... Grand Admiral?” You try.

“Feel where they start and end, where they cross paths and attach to the bones.” He slowly pushes your hands down his abdominals.

You audibly gasp as he directs your hands on his naked body. While your body heat skyrockets in your embarrassment and confusion, he revels in the softness of your touch and the freshness of your hands on his thick skin.

Your touch is delightful. Delicate and tender. He has all the pain in the world to not moan in bliss...

He presses your palms on his abdominals, pushing them farther and farther south.

“It is very important you understand how the muscles twist and bend.” He lectures you like you didn’t already know that.

“Grand Admiral...” You press him more and more embarassed.

He takes a step forward and you take a step back.

He takes another one and you do the same.

He finally blocks you against the desk where you keep all your colors and pigments. You jolt when your back hits the wooden table, caged between his half-naked body and the furniture. He stops your hands on his groin region, right above his cock.

He looks at your flustered face intently, how you evade his gaze and your heat signals are the worst he ever saw. He refrains from licking your face as he so desperately wants to.

Your sex is irradiating a warm light to his infrared vision, well awake and demanding attention. He takes great pride in the reaction of your body to his daring advances, but you also appear tense.

“Feel how my male body is different from your female body, feel it deeply... within you...” He whispers, looming forward to press his forehead against yours to look at your eluding gaze. He pulls your hands to wrap your arms around his waist as his own hands come to seize your hips, slightly slipping them under your corseted top to caress your smooth human skin.

You cannot help the gasp escaping you, shocked to your core but indubitably... interested. Curious and craving for more.

Still, the uneasy feeling remains in the pearl of your eyes.

He presses your hips together and rolls his pelvis, delighting himself in your hot and bothered reaction. Your hands are trembling and sweaty but they hold on his lower back. You slowly and timidly raise your gaze to meet his, mouth agape and with a short breath.

You gulp as he smiles, satisfied.

Are you a virgin? Will he be your first?

His heart pumps harder!

You first... But more importantly your last!

He lowers himself with a satisfied grin, but right before he is about to kiss you, he suddenly grabs your ass to lift you up and put you on the table, making you yelp in surprise. His hands lift your skirt to caress your round thighs, dividing them open to slide between them swiftly.

His blood is beating furiously, his hands caressing and exploring your gorgeous body eagerly, mentally pesting against those useless clothes hiding your naked perfection to his burning rubies. You let out a weak moan between precocious fear and irrefutable excitement.

Your hands circle his shoulders and you dig your nails into his blue flesh, to his utmost pleasure, pulling you tighter towards you.

Everything comes to a halt as you look into each other eyes with heavy breathing.

He wants you.

He craves you.

And he will have you!

In one way or another, you will be his and his alone.

He will rip you out of your father’s claws and build you a life of comfort and love. He will hold you close and tight, showering you with adoration every day, worshipping at your feet.

Thrawn taunts you with his lips, hovering them over your parted mouth, making your throat go dry with anticipation. He teases you with a kiss on the tip of your nose, before letting out a low growl as your gazes meet, you cannot help but moisten your plump lips with your tongue with a short breath.

Thrawn hand seizes your lower back to pull you close and tight against him, his second hand embracing the back of your skull to pull you ever so slightly closer to his tempting grin.

You look at each other in a suspended moment, listening to each other heavy heartbeat, feeling the sheer tension in the room before Thrawn lowers himself with the intent to kiss you.

“Please... Do not hurt me...” You ask with a voice so low and feeble he barely hears you, tears in your eyes.

He stops his motion.

Why would-

“Sorry for my late arrival Princess, I-”

A man enters the studio unannounced, absolutely ruining the moment. You yelp in surprise, pulling on your skirt to cover your bare legs while Thrawn merely turns his upper body towards the intruder to shoot him with his glare, making no effort to cover his modesty.

The man is clearly embarrassed to have walked in during an intimate moment, but Thrawn wants him more than embarrassed. He wants him repentant and desperate.

“I am sorry, Sir.” You jump off the table, flustered, pushing your hair behind your ear to put up a front, “Thrawn, I present you Sir Hatway, a curator of an art gallery I invited to judge my art.” You gesture towards the impudent.

The man clearly doesn't know what to do with himself in front of a naked Chiss.

“Sir Hatway, this is Vice Admiral Thrawn of the Imperial Navy and one of my favorite model.”

Thrawn heart speeds up at the compliment, but outside he is still shooting down Hatway, frowning, displeased.

“Should I... Wait outside, Princess?” The impolite man asks.

‘Yes he should!’ Thrawn thinks, clasping his hands behind his back.

“No! No...” You hurriedly respond, “It is all right, you didn’t interrupt anything. We can look at my paintings now.”

Thrawn gaze slides to you.

What do you mean ‘didn’t interrupt anything’? He wants to ask impudently.

He chastises himself. You are an imperial Princess. You cannot just fool around with anyone like that without consequences from your father, you must preserve your reputation.

The insolent nods unsure, still uneasy, before turning towards Thrawn with a smile he surely hoped to be affable, but honestly is just pathetic. He takes a step forward with his hand extended.

“Please to meet you Grand Admiral Thrawn.”

Thrawn consciously takes his time to gauge him up and down from all his height, straightening his back to look at him with all the smugness his rank conferred him. He finally took the man’s hand to shake it.

“The pleasure is mine, Sir Hatway.” Thrawn tightens his grip until the man winces in pain, “You will obviously not say a word of what you saw.” He asks, deadly cold.

“N-no, sir. I saw nothing and know nothing...” He pitifully responds

“Good...” The Chiss nods, venomous.

“You can go, Grand Admiral.” You say, fidgeting your fingers, still visibly agitated, “We are done for today.”

“If you allow me, Your Majesty. I am interested to witness your audition.”

“I...” You bite your lower lips again, thinking, “All right.” You concede.

When Thrawn exits the changing room in his pristine white uniform, Sir Hatway is no longer the pitiful man who entered the studio. He stands proudly before your paintings, detailing them and judging them imperially.

You remain a bit behind, full of apprehension and hope. Like the day you showed Thrawn your imager.

“This is not very good to be honest with you, Your Majesty. This is amateurish at best, and I am being generous.”

Thrawn stops dead in his tracks. Did he hear right?

“But I...” You try.

“It will not be possible I am afraid. You should abandon painting entirely, this is not a world for a fragile flower like you...”

Thrawn takes a single glance at the painting you are presenting right now.

Your dear mother’s portrait.

You spend long hours on this one, pouring your tears and blood in the paint to bring it to life and honor that woman.

And that... Uncultured fool rejects it?! Calls it amateurish?! Thrawn never saw such passion in a portrait in a long long time!

He heard enough.

He walks to the man with three long strides, catching both of your attention.

“Sir. I will invite you to take back your words immediately.” He said very coldly, camping in front of the fool, towering over him with all his height.

“Who do you think you are to teach my job?!” The impudent retorted, any traces of the former shy man long gone.

“Who do you think YOU are?! Is your heart so dry to be so blind before such a shining jewel, before such explicit talent, before such an evident masterpiece? I can not let you say such things.”

The man looks at Thrawn afraid and confused but sticks to his guns.

“No! It is my job to evaluate artists that wish to enter our art gallery and she doesn’t have the level expected.”

“Can you not see she is ahead of her time? That she is avant-garde in so many aspects? I pity your gallery Sir, we must only find mediocrity inside.”

“Are you insulting me?!”

“You insulted her first.”

“Grand admiral please...” You try to calm them both

Thrawn raises his hand to sush you.

“She has no talents, and no future in the art world. I am doing her a favor by telling her early.” He bites.

Thrawn feels about to punch this man.

Instead, he takes a step back and takes out his pair of gloves from his pocket, and throws them at the impudent’s face.

“I will protect her honor, I challenge you sir.”

“What?! No! This is getting ridiculous, stop-” You try to interject again.

“Fine! Whenever you damn please Alien!” The fool retorts.

@bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar @thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @elise2174 @debonaire-princess @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay, @obbicrystaleo, @germie2037 @davesrightshoe @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni @leo4242564

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

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