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on-a-lucky-tide · 2 months

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Lambert returns to the bar and tries again. Another part of Architect!Bert and Barman!skel. Part 1.

CW: mutism, Lam-butt is cringe.

Lambert had a late conference call with a contractor in Japan the following evening and grabbed a pot of noodles from the takeaway on his way home. He told himself it was easier than going out of his way for his usual dinner at this time of night, and the bar would be crowded by drunks anyway, and his reluctance to go was absolutely nothing to do with making a tit out of himself in front of the new barman. The noodles ended up cold and in the bin, and his mind wandered away from the schematics on his desk to the mental schematics of a broad shouldered, scarred hunk of hotness.

Fixations weren't anything new. Lambert was used to them. From the six months in secondary school when he had become obsessed with jazz music to the point Vesemir caught him planning to shoplift a saxophone, to the year he raided religiously on World of Warcraft every night to the detriment of his social life. His brain craved dopamine and latched onto anything that could provide it. Eskel was a big, handsome shot of it; novel, interesting. Like a fucking laser pen to a tomcat. It would pass.

Lambert’s next two trips to the bar went much the same as the first, but without the foot-in-mouth moment of being an absolute prick to someone who definitely didn’t deserve it. Lambert watched Eskel work, desperate to talk, but too worried about being a dick again to open his stupid mouth. Aiden ribbed him for it out of Eskel’s earshot, muttering something about steak and thirst, or—an attempt at wit and humour that left Lambert scowling, his skin prickling with a deep awareness of being in Eskel’s presence. He couldn’t explain it. It was more than the pleasant hum caused by a good saxophone solo.

There was an irritating air of mystery around Eskel. That was it. Lambert could see the intelligence and character lurking behind his eyes, like a lion napping in the sun, fierce and sharp but happy to bask lazily as the antelope gallivanted around it. The sun. Yeah, those eyes, not quite the piercing white yellow of the sun, more a deep, honey-gold that reminded Lambert of the foil packets that came with expensive coffee; the kind that made you feel warm and comfortable on your cushioned window seat while it poured with rain outside. And Lambert would have sworn blind he could hear Eskel humming sometimes; a low, soft rumble carrying a familiar tune, but barely audible beneath the bass of the bar’s music system.

Even while he was at work, Lambert’s mind kept drifting to Eskel. During one particularly laborious meeting, he ended up sketching a quick outline of Eskel’s face at the corner of his designs before he even realised what was happening. He scrunched it up, threw it in the bin, only to extract it for his portfolio before he left for the bar that night. It was a good likeness and—just shut the fuck up and stop judging him, alright?

Eskel was working that night, of course, and greeted Lambert with a wave of the hand. Lambert’s whiskey was on the bar before his arse found the stool, and he cleared his throat. “Hey, Eskel, I… uh. I think we started off on the wrong foot. I’m… what I said, that wasn’t… that wasn’t… cricket.”

There were those glittering eyes again. Glittering. Yeah, that was amusement. Lambert hid his scowl with a swig of whiskey and prodded the beer mat in front of him. His mac and cheese arrived within fifteen minutes, the bacon still sizzling on the surface, and he tried again. “This is weird for me, alright? Sal and I, we used to chat shit all night. He was a blockhead, but he was good company. He knew stuff, you know? Kind of stuff you only learn—” Lambert waved his hand vaguely at the door, “—out there.”

Eskel’s gaze dropped briefly, and Lambert was worried he’d managed to upset him, for real this time. When Eskel looked up, he tilted his head in apology. Lambert chewed on the inside of his cheek, which seemed to prompt a flash of inspiration. He leaned down from the stool, arse cheek balancing precariously on the edge, and yanked his notebook free. “How about writing? You can write, ye—? You know, forget I just asked that.” Lambert felt his ears warm, but Eskel didn’t seem to be offended. The same soft shine, the head tilt. He reached for the pencil that Lambert had placed beside the pad, and wrote two words, ‘Sounds good.’

Lambert grinned. “I’m… uh, Lambert. I shoulda introduced myself earlier, but… you already knew my dinner order, most interesting thing about me, really—the dinner part.”

Eskel looked thoughtful before he plucked up the pencil again and scratched a question. ‘What’re the drawings for?’

“Boring shit,” Lambert murmured, nudging the tightly bound scrolls with his toe. “I’m an architect. Residential. You know, houses, flats.” Of course, he fucking knew what residential meant. Lambert felt the heat under his collar again and took another fortifying sip of whiskey.

‘Can I see?’

“You want to see a bunch of angles and pencil scratches?”

‘Yes. Don’t have to if you’re shy.’

“I’m not fucking—all right, move the bowl—”

Lambert stooped down to snatch up the first scroll he came to and then hesitated… his passion project was a mere inch to the left. And that was the most impressive, wasn’t it? Eskel didn’t need to know that no business in their right mind would fund something so extravagant for the poorest in society. It was an easy flex. Lambert tugged the scroll free and unfurled it on the bar. He weighted the edges down with his bowl and half-drunk tumbler of whiskey and glanced up at Eskel for his reaction.

Usually, people puffed their cheeks out in confusion at the architectural scribbles and mumbled some vague comment of appreciation. But Eskel examined it for a long moment, head tilting to and fro. When he picked up the pencil, Lambert held his breath as if awaiting the verdict of a shareholder, and—

‘Reminds me of the KAEC.’

Lambert’s jaw metaphorically hit the bar. “You know about the KAEC?”

‘I’ve been there.’

The KAEC—or King Abdullah Economic City—was an architect’s paradise. A complete flop, of course. With a target population of two million by 2035, it was currently a ghost town of just seven thousand. But it was meant to be one of five sustainable mega cities built in Saudi Arabia, aimed at placing the country in the top ten investment destinations. It was the kind of sprawling vision that could manifest when money was no issue, with some of the most cutting-edge structural designs and engineering in the business. It had been Lambert’s dream to go and visit, but the company kept him busy, and he used his holiday to go look after the old man, you know. He’d get there, eventually… “Really?” Lambert croaked.

‘Yeah. About 10 years ago.’

“Why—? How—? What did it look like?”

‘Big.’

Eskel didn’t smile with his mouth, but the way his eyes shone like that, Lambert knew he was being grinned at. Lambert huffed and folded his arms across his chest, his own eyes narrowed.

Eskel wrote again, ‘Sorry. It was quite something—‘ he tore the page off to start another, ‘—I’ll bring some photos next shift’.

Lambert’s lips quirked in one corner. The first glimmer of a smile. “Sounds good. You know, I think I’ll treat myself to a dessert. One of those tall, chocolate-y fuckers that’ll give me early onset diabetes.”

‘One tall chocolate fucker coming up.’

Turned out that Eskel couldn’t only make a good mac and cheese, pour a good Godfather, but he could also make an absolutely cracking sundae

#witcher eskel #witcher lambert #modern au #lambskel

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vibratingskull · 9 months

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Of course I had to forgot to put tags , and now that we can't modify asks I had to delete it 😑 So it's posted a day late

I got carried away with this one

Thrawn x F!reader

Tags : Stranded, isolation, p in v, creampie, cunni

“What are the next steps of your plan?” Thrawn asks calmly.

You don’t respond to that jab spoken only to get under your skin. As far as you are concerned, you are winning : Thrawn is away from all his forces and the Empire, stranded on an isolated planet away from any help.

Granted you are stranded with him, with little chance to get rescued, but as long as his tactical genius doesn’t serve the Empire in any way you are satisfied. You will contempt yourself with a pathetic death on a backwater planet after such a victory.

“I don’t know, what such a grand genius like you would do?” You bite back.

You feel his red gaze burning the back of your neck as you advance in the jungle, with what little equipment you found. Behind you both, the carcass of the emergency shuttle finish burning after its crash in a deep forest under a blazing sun.

“Me, I am going forward.” You let him behind, readjusting the braces of your backpack

“You are going to die if you go alone.” He informs you.

“You may. Me, I’m going to be okay. We rebels are resourceful!” You wave him goodbye and let him to die here, like a stud in the middle of the road.

Good riddance.

You personally know him for less than three hours and you already can’t bear him anymore.

You walk among the vegetation, protecting yourself from the sun with the shadows of trees, drinking at fresh streams and eating little berries you find.

But you have the bad feeling to be followed. You spin suddenly to surprise him behind your back but find nothing, just the thick bushes you just crossed.

“Hum.” You purse your lips, dubious.

Maybe it’s your imagination. You prick up your ears, but only hear a low growl… Surely the wind. You resume your walk, going deeper into this impenetrable forest.

You were trying to find a good spot to take a break when something akin to a group of antelopes sprint past you in a frenzy, looking visibly panicked. You don’t have time to process it when you hear the same growl, this time loud like a roar rising behind you and you are thrown on the ground, with something slashing deep into the flesh of your lower back. You cry in pain, jumping on all four to look everywhere.

And you see it.

An enormous predator looking like a panther with iridescent feathers, claws and fangs like daggers. But this beast is easily three times bigger than you. You grasp your rifle and aim at the skull of the beast. You aim right but the ammunition disappears against hard scales of the head of the panther. What kind of beast is that?!

You’re in a bad spot. This is your only weapon and it is useless against the carnivore looking at you like it’s next dinner. It only needs to jump to slash your throat and gulp you down.

You fall on your butt and crawl backward as it rolls its muscles, preparing to jump.

Your demise came way quicker than anticipated.

You scream, protecting yourself pitifully with your arms, closing your eyes to not see death approaching.

But death doesn’t come.

Instead you hear a roar or unbridled rage and pain coming from the beast. You open your eyelids, unsure, to discover Thrawn on the back of the beast, a spear deeply stabbed in the back of the neck of the panthere. The beast rears and jumps trying to get rid of the Chiss and the spear but it loses a lot of blood, making a red puddle at its feet. The beast rises on his back paws to throw him down and you take the opportunity to fire at the tender stomach of the animal. It opens a large wound, letting blood and entrails spurt out freely.

It yelps painfully and falls to the ground. Dead.

You look at it with round eyes, in shock. Thrawn pulls the spear out in a precise motion and jumps down the beast.

“I told you : You are going to die alone.” He says.

You snap out of your torpor.

“You were following me!?” You shout, indignant.

“And it was the right call.” He throws a bacta treatment at your feet. “Treat your wound before your blood draws more of them.”

“Do not order me around!” You bite back.

“Would you please treat your wounds to not attract more predators?” He responds dryly.

You take the bacta and pull on your bloody shirt, the simple motion earns a painful moan from you. The cuts are deep.

You keep Thrawn in your peripheral vision, careful for any of his antics. But he’s focusing on the corpses of the beast, trying to pull out a large fang from the maw.

That guy is weird.

You finish bandaging yourself and carefully approach, not too close, to see him opening the stomach of the beast.

“What in the seven worlds are you doing?”

“You intend to feed yourself with only berries?” He inquire

“You want… to eat it?”

“Exactly. Its carcass could last us for two weeks.”

“Us? There is no us.” You temper his crazy hopes.

“There will be if you want to last more than a day.”

“You are full of yourself! What tells you I will accept your presence?”

“You do not know the basics of living in the jungle.”

“Oh, because a pampered Grand Admiral obviously knows them!”

“Indeed. If it was not for me, you would be dead at this instant.” He simply answers.

You flare your nose, swallowing your ripost. This guy is so annoying!

“Start a fire, it will drive animals away.” He instructs, continuing cutting the flesh of the beast.

You breathe through your nose, trying to keep your calm but he’s right. Night is setting and other predators will go out to hunt. You gather wood and start a fire, sparing your poor back, and Thrawn throws a large chunk of meat on the embers, braising the flesh.

You sit in front of each other in complete silence, you looking at him black and him focused on the firing of your dinner. He slices the chunk and gives you a large bit of it to eat? At least he isn’t a skinflint.

You bite into your part never stopping looking at him, ready to seize your weapon and fire on him at any strange gesture.

“I will take the first watch. Sleep.” He informs.

You lay down with the full intent of not sleeping to keep a watch on that bastard.

But you succumb to sleep, the fire is so warm and the sounds of the jungle are so soothing.

Thrawn finally shakes you and you jump like a devil out of its box, slapping his hand away.

“Don’t touch me!”

He raises his hand in an appeasing gesture.

“Take this.” He hands you a dagger made of the large fang. “It will be more useful than a rifle here.”

You take the dagger, evaluating its weight, getting familiar with it.

You don’t thank him. He goes to sleep without a word.

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

Five weeks of walking and now you’re crossing cliffs, following Thrawn silently, eyes fixed on the back of his head. You spend all your days in complete silence, nobody utters a word outside of sporadic directions. You’re not here to buddy up with that imperial, you’ll take advantage of his knowledge of survivalism and drop out at the first opportunity.

It pains you to admit it but he’s good at this… You wonder what happened in his life for him to know all that, but you’re surely not gonna ask anything. You don’t want anything to do with him.

You reach a chasm.

A very, very large chasm.

You look at the edge, very deep too, a guarantee for a broken neck down here.

“Welp. What do we do now?” you ask.

“We jump, obviously.”

We what?!

You’re about to protest when he throws his backpack on the other side and takes some steps back to gather momentum and just… jump over the damn chasm.

“Your turn.” He informs you.

Your gaze travels between him and the bottom.

There is no way you’re doing that.

There is more than 200 meters of free fall.

“No…” you mumble

“Come on. Jump.”

“No!” You shout.

You feel your legs get wobbly, you start trembling.

“I… I cant.”

“Of course you can.” He encourages.

“No, no I can’t…” You take support on the rock wall, barely holding it together.

“(Y/n), look at me.” he calls.

Your eyes risel from the chasm to him with difficulties. They are like hypnotized by the void threatening to claim you. Your eyes meet his resolute gaze.

“(Y/n). Look into my eyes. you can do it.”

He extends his hand in your direction.

“Focus on me. I am here to reception you.”

“I-I can’t, it’s too wide… I will fall!”

“No you will not. Look at me (Y/n). You will not fall. You will cross without a problem, you can do it.” He keeps encouraging you, “Stand up.”

You rise back on your legs that feel like jello, still trembling.

“Do not look down, only look at me. Focus on me.”

You take three steps back, and look up to him.

“That is right. You can do it, I believe in you.”

You sprint and jump with a yelp. You close your eyes mid-air, your stomach sinking, ready to hear the air screaming in your ears as you will inevitably fall to your death.

But instead, two powerful arms receive you. In fact you jumped with such force you are both thrown to the ground. You reopen your eyes to realize your cheek is against his broad chest and you can hear his beating heart. You precipitaly jump on your feet, embarrassed.

“Hum, sorry.”

“It is okay.” He just says standing up, unbothered.

“... Thank you.” You admit.

“You are welcome.” He puts his pack on his back and resumes the walk without another word.

“No really!” you hold him back, “You could have just walked away, but… You stayed.”

He looks at you up and down, gauging you.

“I told you : It is okay. Let's continue.” He closes the matter.

You follow silently, head full.

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

“You have an escape plan, genius?” You ask, worried.

“You could take the three on the right and I will take the three on the left.” Thrawn placidly proposes.

You don’t like his humor.

You’re both hand raised above your head, encircled by a group of local aliens that don’t appear happy to see you. They threaten you with spears and vastly outnumber you two.

You gulp. You don’t see their face, carefully hidden behind wooden masks with large feathers.

They come closer, threatening to impale you, screaming at you with their weird language.

“You understand something?” you inquire with a low voice.

“Not a single word. But their intentions are clear.”

You can hardly do clearer than that!

One comes close enough to rob you of your dagger.

“Hey!” you protest.

They look at it intently before raising it above their head for all to see and shout something incomprehensible. The group raise their hands in the hair with some sort of shout in their incomprehensible language.

They look very excited now.

“What's going on?” You whisper to Thrawn.

“It appears that killing that panther was the right call.”

The groups lower their spears and you think they start laughing? It’s quite hard to identify that clinking sound. You observe them passing the dagger to each other when two hands seize your hips and lift you in the air. You scream, ready to throw hands when you're seated on large shoulders. One of the aliens took you in their arms and is carrying you like you weigh nothing.

You turn to Thrawn, apprehensive, and see him getting pat on the back and what’s must be congratulations from the indigenous. They start walking, taking you both with you with what you assume to be the direction of their village.

“Huh, what do we do? Do we follow them?” You ask Thrawn while being carried.

“They seem to have friendlier intentions now.” He observes each of them, “Maybe a good night sleep under a roof is welcomed.”

You gulp a bit, but he’s right. It’s been several months now that you’re in this damn forest with no signs of advanced civilisation, your clothes are torn apart, your hair grew a lot, your last shower dates back from the last river you came by and your meals are not as filling as you would have hope, maybe accepting the hospitality of some aliens is the good call.

But you’re still apprehensive.

You are brought to a rather big community, with houses of straws tied together in an quite ingenious way. The village is so big it seems to have small districts, with the livable one, the shopping street and the center place with a well. Children come running all over you, they do not wear masks but paint. They scream and laugh, pulling on your pants to grab your attention. Thrawn is swarmed by a legion of children, looking at him in awe or literally trying to climb his tall stature.

You’re brought in front of a large open tent with an alien with the largest, most decorated mask of all seating in the middle. The leader of the hunter starts speaking to them, gesturing to you and Thrawn occasionally and presents them the dagger. The one you assume to be the chief of the village observes the dagger very intently before exploding laughing. They rise to proclaim something to the crowd of villagers that stand behind you now and they start applauding, laughing and shouting hurrays!

“Are we getting adopted?” you slide to Thrawn's ear under the ambient brouhaha.

“It looks like they are welcoming us.” He responds with a raised eyebrow.

You want to reply something but you are suddenly grabbed by the arm by some women and dragged away, you’re about to seize Thrawn’s arm to not get carried away when you see men taking him somewhere else on the other side of the village. It looks like he tried to grab your hand but he follows them willingly, his hand coming back to his side.

So now you’re separated by aliens you can’t communicate with, on a wild unknown planet.

Great.

Perfect.

“Where are we going?” You ask, knowing fully they don’t understand your language.

But they laugh and look at you smiling, little girls follow you giggling and chanting, all the women of the village take fabrics and bowls containing a rosy kind of paste.

You reach a river and they all start to undress with two of them starting undressing you.

“Okay, okay! I can do it myself” You stop them.

They invite you to enter the water and bathe. You realize the rosy paste is some kind of greasy soap everyone is scrubbing their bodies in the freshwater.

You usually prefer to bathe alone, but upsetting your host might not be the right call. So you take a bit of the paste and apply it on your skin. It smells marvelous, like a field of flowers! You feel a pair of hands scrubbing your back and another one scrubbing your hair and scalp. They seem determined to wash you themself, maybe it is some kind of a welcoming ritual? You start to relax a bit, after so long just being two in the jungle hearing laughter and shouts of children is really comforting.

You still try to gather infos.

“Where can we call someone? Calling? A triad?” They just look at you smiling, giggling at your silly language and resume washing you.

You try every language you know but no one sparks a reaction. You finally exit the waters, wrapping into the fabrics they brought and they guide you to a house where they apply paint on your face and body, cut your nails and hair super short and give you new clothes made of leaves and the weird fabrics they have. You tried to stop them when you saw the first strand of hair falling on the ground but you remember the knots you felt for months getting tighter and tighter and you, begrudgingly, accept the situation for the best.

Goodbye hair, you’ll be missed.

A little girl comes with a crown of plant and antler, you lower your head and they put the headdress on your head. They hand you a bowl of water for you to observe yourself, and wow.

What a transformation.

It’s the first time you feel properly clean in months, your scalp is relieved and the paint compliments your skin color and features. You’re in awe.

The night is settled by now and they take your hand to guide you to the largest house, a sort of communal hut where a huge feast is served. They sit you down at the end of the low table, overseeing the long lines of guests gathered.

But where is Thrawn? Is he okay?

“Fascinating tapestries.”

You jump out of your skin. Thrawn is sitting right next to you when there was no one a second before.

“Maker! Thrawn!”

“Yes?”

“Never do that again!” you press your hand on your heart.

“I am sorry.”

He’s here, what a relief. He seems to have been through the same treatment as you and wears similar clothes and a crown, lines of paint adorning his face.

“They cut your hair too?” You realize, disappointed.

“Yes. Is that a problem?”

“No. I just thought you wore long hair well.” you pout.

He looks at you intently like he was processing what you’re saying to him.

“What?” you ask.

“I never knew you took interest in how I fashioned my hair.”

“I…” You start realizing suddenly that this is the first compliment you ever said to him in the months you’ve been traveling together. Your eyes open round and you bite your lips. Was it impolite? Were you close enough to say that sort of thing? Were you even close in any sort of the way? Being forced to endure his presence for months you started to relax around him and get kinda casual? You’re sure your Rebels comrades would tear their eyeballs out seeing you teaming up with Thrawn the Grand Admiral of the Empire, but… You started to trust him despite your best effort and conscience? But maybe it is a one way street and he doesn’t see things that way?

“...I am Sorry.” you lower your eyes.

You turn your head away, confused by his penetrating gaze.

“All is well.” he simply responds.

But that is a good question : when did you take interest in how he fashioned his hair? Why do you even care in the first place? He’s a filthy imperial, it shouldn’t bother you!

But still…

What a waste…

You are offered a large cut of roasted, juicy meat with vegetables and a touch of spices. It’s delicious. Thrawn eats silently, eyes focused on the tapestries hanging on the wall of the communal house, you take a look at them too. They seem to represent everyday life in the village, with hunting sessions, laundry day and tailoring, gathering, dancing… Depicting a very lively village. Everyone around you eat while laughing, chatting in their language, it’s really animated and… joyful.

“Why are you crying?” Thrawn asks suddenly.

You touch your cheek to realize silent tears were rolling down your skin. You wipe them out immediately.

“Nothing. It’s just…” You refrain a sob, “After being alone in that jungle for so long, a lively community just feels good.”

“I see.” He simply responds like he was not really interested.

But you came to know him a bit. It’s actually a tone he uses when he doesn’t want to speak for himself and hide. You finish wiping your tears with a cloth when a little girl take your arm in her little hand very gently, looking in your eyes. She looks assured and resolute, you guess it’s her way to console you and you smile at her, caressing her head and she giggles in response.

Music starts to play, melodious and rhythmic, people stand up to start dancing and you clap your hands with the beat, looking at this simple yet marvelous sight of life.

A young, handsome man comes to you and extends his hand, inviting you to dance. You take it with a smile to not offend your host and you start dancing in his arms the best you could. He is a really good dancer and he invites you in a passionate tango, holding you close against his warm skin.

You let yourself seduce and chuckle with him, maybe you will not be alone for the night…

As he makes you spin with practiced ease you feel something burning on your skin, like someone is watching you closely. You realize Thrawn as his eyes fixed on you as you dance your worries away.

He doesn’t look pleased.

What’s his problem?

He refuses the invitation to dance from a woman, keeping his eyes on you through the burning open fire in the middle of the place. When you cross your eyes you stick your tongue to him and focus on your handsome partner, trying to keep up with his steps.

You feel a hand on your shoulder at the end of the melody, you turn to Thrawn in surprise.

“We usually switch up partners at the end of a song.” And without leaving you time to respond, slides his hand in your lower back and squeeze you close against him, stealing you away.

You turn around the fire, in his embrace. It’s the first time you are this close to Thrawn. It feels weird but it’s also not displeasing?

“What’s with you so suddenly?” you ask, a bit bummed to be separated with the young man.

“Do I not have the right to share a dance with you?” He bites back.

“A rebel and a Grand Admiral dancing together?” You highlight the irony.

“Maybe we can not be a rebel and a Grand Admiral for tonight. Maybe we can be just two individuals sharing a dance.” He argues.

“Hum…” You’re not convinced, “You never do things without an ulterior motive or a goal, what is it this time.”

“I simply wanted to share a dance with you. Nothing more.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“The mighty Grand Admiral Thrawn would lower himself to a dance with a filthy peasant? Incredible!”

He looks into your eyes with his burning rubies, remaining silent for a moment, gauging you.

“You have such bias against me. I am just a man, as lost as you are on this planet.”

“Poor you.”

He squeezes your hand in his and assures his grip on your lower back.

“It is well, you do not have to believe me.”

He suddenly makes you twirl and lift you in the air before receptioning you with the beats of the music. You yelp in surprise as his strong arms prevent you from falling.

“You just have to follow my lead.”

And he throws you away, only holding you with one hand and making you spin back to end up in his embrace again as the music picks up.

“Pick up the pace, Rebel.” He bites.

You purse your lips. You’ll show him!You accelerate your steps, forcing him to adapt to you, spinning on your own accord, with long strides making him walk back. He seizes you back to lift you again, regaining the control of the dance.

“My, my, Grand Admiral! Are you hooking up with the Rebellion?” You ask, pressed against his broad chest.

“If I must to survive. I am ready to take drastic measures.”

You twirl away and try to make him trip up to laugh, but he elegantly evades and takes back the upper hand, tilting you backward and raising you back up.

“How far are you willing to go?” You tease, getting carried away by the dance and music.

You never noticed before but Thrawn is quite handsome. His haughty features drawn by the light of the fire, his large chest naked with lines of paint highlighting his pecs and abs, his well defined musculature rolling under his deep blue skin. You take support on his large shoulders and he grabs your hips to make you spin around him.

He is… really well made…

He presses you back against him again, letting you appreciate the warmth of his large, tall body against your exposed skin.

If you’re not careful he will make your head spin. In more than one way!

You look into each other's eyes, forehead against forehead, entranced. You unconsciously bite your lips, lost in the sea of shining red, his gaze lowers down to your lips and he leans on slowly.

You gasp, surprised and unprepared…

But he slides his head next to you to murmur in your ear.

“Do not drink what they give, I will come join you at your place later in the night.”

And likes that he releases you and walks away. You stand in the middle of the dancing crowd too stunned to speak, looking at him disappearing into the night.

What was that?

You feel your heart beating at 100 miles per hour, threatening to burst out of your ribcage. You walk away with trembling legs and a woman escorts you to an empty hut with a hand on your back, reassuring.

“Thank you.” You mutter.

She hands you a bowl with a liquid with a large, sympathetic smile. You refuse politely, not thirsty but she pushes it in your face, her smile growing larger. The warning of Thrawn comes back in your head and you hesitantly takes the bowl. You try to smile to feign gratefulness but she stays in front of you, fixing you with her smile that‘s getting upsetting. You gulp fixing the drink and she mimics the action of drinking.

“Do not drink what they give you.” The warning resonate.

You hesitantly take a gulp in front of her, but she doesn’t budge. You’re fully creeped out now. You drink it entirely in front of her, even pretending to be satisfied by the savor as you take the bowl away from your lips. She claps, satisfied and takes back the bowl. She pushes you inside the hud and leave.

You look out to see if someone is watching you and leave to make yourself throw up behind the hut.

You sit on the mattress of hay inside the hut, awaiting for Thrawn with a beating heart. You lay down and pretend to sleep when you hear footsteps coming near you. They go away and you repeat it several times.

Finally the music stops and the light of the fire disappears. Silence takes place, and you hear your heart in your skull.

Something’s not right here.

Someone enters your hut and grabs you shoulder’s gently.

It’s Thrawn, with both of your backpack.

“We need to leave.” He simply whispers.

You nod and follow him in the night. You pass by the guards and scurry away in the vegetation.

“What did you see in those tapestries?” You ask lowly.

“You will see soon enough, it is on your trail.”

As you’re climbing a hill you see a crowd gathering with torches around the hut they gave you far away. Then you hear a displeased clamor.

“They realized we disappeared. Hurry.” Thrawn proclaim.

And he takes your hand to gather speed.

His hand is large and warm.

You remember his skin under your palms two hours ago…

You shake your head. Now is not the time.

“Here.” Thrawn designate.

It’s a trench dug in the dirt, you approach the edge to discover a pile of bones.

Those are not animal bones.

Cannibals.

You hear their furious scream resonate in the night.

“Let’s keep going.” You say coming back to Thrawn’s side.

He takes back your hand and you disappear in the night.

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

“It is so hot!” You complain.

“I hear a stream.” Thrawn indicates without releasing your hand.

The clothes you received from the village are way more adapted to the local climate than your precedent combination but today is particularly warm. But it's been five weeks since you departed from that place and now they need a good wash.

Like you.

But things evolved since then, you walk hand in hand with Thrawn each day and sleep close to one another when you refused to approach him at the beginning. You even woke up in his arms this morning, his massive size shielding you from any potential danger.

It makes your heart flutter just thinking about it.

You can hear the sound of water flowing freely close to you and you drool thinking about swimming in a fresh stream. You walk deeper in the forest and reach the river.

You let your backpack down with a moan of relief.

Finally!

Fresh water!

“I will gather some wood for the fire.” Thrawn says, eyes fixed on the declining sun.

As he walks away you undress yourself, getting rid of those now filthy clothes and enter the stream.

It’s cold just as you hoped. You dive into it with a chuckle, what a relief! You swim and relax, scrubbing your skin and scalp. You look around you, Thrawn didn’t come back yet. You take off your undergarments and throw them on the bank.

You swim, dive, let yourself float, appreciate the freshness against your skin. You suddenly feel two warm hand circling your hips and tummy.

You gasp in surprise and take a step back to feel yourself pressed against a wall of muscles.

“It is just me.” Thrawn says in your ear.

“I know it’s you.” You gasp, trying to control your voice “I was surprised.”

“I am sorry, I did not want to startle you.” He chuckles.

That sound strikes you down your core immediately.

It is the first time you hear his laugh.

His hands slowly rise in the direction of your breast, caressing your skin, leaving you time to stop him. Air gets stuck in your throat.

“Did I tell you short hair suits you perfectly?” He whispers, licking the outer shell of your ear.

“No…”

You feel something growing against your lower back, something getting harder by the second. He’s naked too?!

His hands reach your breast and he starts kneading them gently, pinching your nipples as he starts nibbling your neck. You moan under his touch.

You feel his cock twitching against your back at your sounds. He takes a big lick of your neck with the flat of his tongue, rolling your nipples in his fingers. By reflex you roll your ass against his groin and hear him growls in response.

“Do you want this?” He asks in a dark tone.

Do you?

He’s an imperial and you a rebel, even more : he is a Grand Admiral! Is it a good idea? Is it reasonable?

You never imagined him having desire, that’s a thought that never crossed your mind, he always seemed so cool and collected, never moved by anything happening around him. Aloof and cold.

But his hands are so incredibly warm and soft, you have pain imagining them belonging to a mass murderer.

“Do you?” He asks again.

“I…” You feel one hand snaking its way below, towards your exposed sex. But it stops on your venus mound, gently drawing circles with the tip of his fingers.

“I want you.” He growls, biting your ear, “Do you want me?”

Your conscience says no, your body screams yes!

You feel a tingle of excitement spreading in your pussy, making you wet, while your reason tells you he’s the enemy.

You spin in his arms and put your hand on his pecs, feeling his heart beating through your palm. You also feel his erection getting pressed against your stomach.

“And what’s next?” You ask, “I follow you in the imperial ranks? You defect to the rebellion? Or we remain strangers and go back to killing each other?”

“We could meet. At a hotel, secretly.” He proposes in a low tone.

“That would be scandalous.”

“I am used to scandals. I can deal with it.”

You remember all the politics hiccups of Thrawn during his career. It’s true he’s familiar with scandals.

“Come with me.” You propose to him, looking in his deep red eyes, “Flee the Empire with me. Put your genius to the greater good, you could help so many people if you fled with me.”

“I cannot.” He simply responds.

“Why? What ties you to the Empire? They hate you and throw wrenches in your gears constantly. You would be accepted in the rebellion, you would be welcomed!”

“It is simply impossible. My goal requires the Empire.”

“What is your goal?”

You both whisper like someone could eavesdrop you. You slide your hand at the back of his head and he takes your other hand to kiss your knuckles tenderly.

“To protect my homeworlds I need strong forces. The rebellion could never provide them.”

“You would be surprised.” You argue.

He shakes his head.

“No, it is impossible.”

“Then we will remain enemies.”

“So be it. If I must die by your hand I will take it as a satisfying death.” He kisses your knuckles again, “But tonight I do not want us to be enemies.”

You press your forehead against his, silent.

“I do not want to renounce you.” He confesses so low you barely hear him, “But I cannot impose you anything. For only tonight can we not just be lovers as everyone else?”

He seizes your hips to press you closer, compressing his hard shaft between your two hot bodies.

“Only tonight. Then I will leave you in peace. But I want to know what I will have to leave behind, know peace and happiness for at least one night.”

Your heart is pressed tight, painfully clenched, feeling guilty. Your hand comes caressing his lips tenderly and he opens it to lick your fingers, taking them in his warm wet mouth. He moans licking two fingers and you gulp.

“Can I hold you close tonight?” He asks, almost begging, you hear a lingering pain deeply hidden in the tone.

You gulp again.

This is so unreasonable, you are mortal enemies. Being with him is betraying everything you believe in.

But…

“Yes.” you accept in a gasped breath.

He looks deep into your eyes like he’s looking through your naked soul before leaning forward and pressing his lips against yours. You moan and respond, hesitantly at first, getting more and more bold until you are ravaging each other’s mouth, your tongues hugging and dancing.

He holds the back of your head, deepening the kiss and your hand grabs his erection, still hard despite the time passed and pumps him up and down. He is large and long, warm and heavy in your hand and he groans in response.

He lifts you up and carries you back to the bank, laying you against the grass and towering over you, his eyes shining more and more as the night slowly takes place.

“Let me love you all night long.” He whispers, laying down to kiss you again.

He is quite heavy and shields you from anything with his stature and you realize you don’t want to be anywhere else but crushed under his weight. You circle his shoulders as you kiss him back and wave your body under his. He kisses you cheeks and jaw, getting lower, peppering kisses on your neck and clavicles before reaching your breast. He takes one in his mouth and sucks your nipple, gliding across it with the tip of his tongue, titillating your bundle of nerves. He kneads and presses the other in his large hand like he would a soft dough before exchanging the roles. You squirm and moan, praying for him to continue to do lower.

You don’t even have to ask him, he reverently kisses both of your boobs and continue his exploration south, trailing his tongue from your ribcage to your navel to your venus mound. He kisses it like he is worshiping a deity, holding your hips in both of his hands and ends up between your legs. You feel yourself shaking in fear and anticipation, his shining eyes really makes you feel like a prey being observed by a predator.

“Relax.” He blows on your exposed pussy, holding your thighs wide apart, “I will take great care of you.”

He leans forward and kisses you clit with his eyes closed. You yelp at the sensation, a jolt coursing through your body. He darts his tongue and starts titillating your clit with the tip, spreading your pussylips with two long fingers. He takes your clit in his mouth and laps it with the flat of his tongue and licks and sucks it like a lollipop, savoring your taste with his eyes closed.

You throw your head back at the pleasure and mewls for his ears, letting him know he’s doing a good job. He is terribly good at it, and you feel the heat pool in your pussy ready to spill all over his face at any moment. Your trembling legs try to close themself, caging his head in place but he holds them firmly apart with his large, warm hands. He makes it roll between his lips and kisses it again before trailing your slit with his wet tongue.

“You are already so wet.” He notes satisfied. “Good girl.”

You feel your pussy clench at the pet name and his ministrations. He spreads your pussylips again and lave at your hidden flesh, you feel your inner walls and lips puffing up with blood as he laps your essence at the source. You hear a faint sound that grows louder.

Is he…?

“Are you purring?” You ask dumbfounded.

He raises his gaze to meet yours unashamedly and as to answer you the purring gets louder and deeper, spreading vibrations through his tongue to your sensitive flesh. Your pussy clenches violently at that added touch. He probs your entrance with his tips and enter you, tonguefucking you thoroughly like you were his last meal ever. You tremble terribly and whine at how well he’s eating you out, caressing and grazing your g spot with his tongue. You feel yourself dripping against his mouth and you hear him drink voraciously, eyes fixed on yours.

You can’t detach your gaze from his. You are hypnotized, completely entranced by him.

And suddenly.

You come hard in his mouth with a whin, your pussy clenching hard around his wet limb, trying to retain him inside. You hear a satisfied inflection in the purr as he licks you clean.

“Thank you for the drink.” He has the absolute nerve to say, licking his mouth of your essence, his chin beading with your release. “You taste absolutely lovely.”

You try to frown at him but you’re too shaken by your orgasm to do anything, your legs still shaky and trembling.

Why is he so good at this?!

Why him among all the other men?!

He places himself between your legs, fisting his hard cock. You lower your gaze to it and gulp, both apprehensive and impatient.

He is quite large.

“Are you sure it will fit?” You wonder.

“I prepared you well. There will be no problem.” He reassures you.

He coats his length with your release, pushing it between your folds, grazing your puffed up clit. He aligns himself with your entrance and pushes it inside gently. Your mouth opens in a perfect O as he slowly invades your most private place, stuffing you full.

“Relax, you can take it all.” He talks you through it.

But you’re not as sure as him. You’re already quite full but you feel him getting deeper still. He seemed long to you but not that long?

“Breath, cha’cah, we are almost there.” He coos in your ear, kissing the corners of your mouth.

You feel his tip brushing your cervix. How? You breathe deep though your nose, filled to the brim.

“There, I knew you could take me whole, Cha’cah.” He praises you, peppering kisses all over your face, “Tell me when I can move.”

You gulp, your inner walls slowly, oh so slowly start to relax around him, accommodating his massive cock. But you’re stretched to the max, how are you supposed to take him moving?

He sneaks a hand between your two bodies and massages your clit tenderly, relieving a bit of the tension. You breath deep, holding him close against you, whining at his side.

You poor little pussy…

He’s going to ravage you.

“It feels so good being inside you Cha’cah. It is better than great.” He whispers, embracing your body.

“What does that mean?” You ask between two gasps.

“It means “beloved”.” He brushes your noses together.

You bury your head in the crook if his neck, whimpering.

He has no right to tell you things like that!

How dare he?

“Can I move, Ch'acah? I am on the verge of implosion.” He lets out in a shaky breath.

You nod silently, bracing yourself. He starts with shallow thrusts, moving back and forth, brushing your cervix with his tip each time. You moan, circling your legs around his hips to keep him in place. He bites and nibbles your ear, growling and purring in unison with you.

“Ah ! Thrawn… “ You gasp.

“Yes, Cha’cah ?”

“Keep going, don't stop.”

“Of course, Cha’cah. Anything for you.”

He kisses your eyelids deepening his thrusts. The rhythm is slow and languid, he gives you so much love with each hips motion it makes you want to cry. Your poor pussy is so stretched and works its best to accommodate his size at each undulation. He waves his whole body against yours, moaning so deliciously in your ears, you feel yourself creaming all around his shaft. He keeps playing with your clit, easing himself in and out of you as you whine uncontrollably.

“You strangle my cock so well. You were made for me.” he lets you know.

“Do y-ah ! Do you like it ?” You manage to ask between two whines

“Your little pussy? I cannot get enough of it.” He growls darkly, burning red eyes fixed on you.

You can't bear his inquisitive gaze, you close your eyes.

“Look at me.” He orders.

You shake your head, eyes closed shut.

“Look at me, my love.” He licks your cheek to your temple “Let me admire you.”

He increases his relaxed pace to a frantic one, drawing whimpers out of you. He rolls your clit between his fingers, torturing you in the most delicious manner. You open your mouth to gasp and he takes the opportunity to kiss you languorously, brushing his tongue against yours, muffling your cries.

All your blood is flowing down your leaking sex, puffing up your clit, pussy lips and inner walls. You feel your pussy tensing up and convulsing around his large cock, trying to retain him inside. He brushes your cheek with his thumbs, skimming your little clit with an expert hand.

A shudder shakes you violently, you’re so close.

“Open your eyes, Cha’cah.” He calls for you again, “I want you to look into your eyes as you come.” He purrs.

You wince, opening your eyelids an inch, but not daring to meet his eyes. Instead you have a full view of his cock disappearing inside your eager body, a creamy O at the base. He licks your jaw while his chest vibrates with his purr, it feels like being in the presence of an actual tiger. His entire body seems to vibrate in pleasure. He buries himself to the hilt repeatedly, abusing your poor pussy relentlessly while his lips travel to your neck to lick and nibble it, leaving lovemarks all along your sensitive flesh.

“Ah! Thrawn! I’m so close!” You mewl, trying to keep a steady breath, but each of his plunges chase the air out of your lungs, leaving you pantless.

“Good. Do not hold back, let me hear you sing.” He looms over you, the only thing you can see is his eyes now that the night settled in.

He accelerates his ministrations on your clit and your waves of pleasure grow more and more furious like a million horses galloping. You brace yourself for the inevitable impact that will make you see stars.

“Look at me.” He orders again, the tone not inviting any disobedience.

You gulp and raise your gaze to meet his shiny rubies and you come hard as you cross eyes.

Your pussy convulse violently and clench hard around his cock to keep him deep buried inside of you. You’re blinded by a white light and your toes curl, in your shock you squeeze your legs harder around his hips, keeping him in place.

He doesn’t mind. He chases his release with powerful thrusts and comes inside you, burying himself deep and painting you in white. He lets out one long satisfied moan that ends up in a deep sigh, hugging you close in his arms.

It drives you absolutely crazy!

As your pussy finishes to milk him for all his worth he peppers kisses all over your face while you try to get back your breath.

“Thank you, Cha’cah.” He purrs, “It was grandiose.”

He kisses the corner of your mouth before capturing your lips for a gentle languorous kiss. He moans his pleasure without any shame, sounding like sweet music in your ears. He places his forehead against yours, getting his breath back too.

“I never knew you could get tired.” You jokingly breathe.

“I prefer to give my all for those occasions.” he responds in the same tone, “I like leaving my partners satisfied.”

Your heart clench at the word “leaving”.

Is it your fate? To remain away from each other, to plan the demise of the other.

You circle your arms around his neck, squeezing him tight.

“Can I slip out?” he finally asks, still prisoner of your legs.

“No.” You decide, “Stay a little longer.”

“Alright.” He kisses your temple with love. “Thank you for letting me taste your pleasures at least once.” He says suddenly ceremoniously.

He cradles you tenderly. But you feel in his tone he’s already getting distant again, can’t you keep him close a little longer?

“Maybe… We could do it again.” You let out, “Until we reach civilisations we are nothing more than two survivors.”

He looks at you intently with an indecipherable gaze, and for a moment you think you said something bad. But he relaxes, brushing your noses.

“And after? Once we get rescued?”

“What do you want to do?” You ask.

“The choice is yours.” He says solemnly, “I will let you decide how this relationship goes.”

You bite your lips.

Can you say goodbye to him to never see him again but on the battlefield? To only meet one last time to finish up one of your lives?

Your reason tells you to leave him behind, but your heart cries at that thought.

“I…”

You weigh the pros and cons. How would your comrades react if you ever get caught? Can you really give a single relationship the same weight as all your ideals? Is he worth betraying all you ever believed in?

“... I want to see you again.”

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