#director krennic smut | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hottpinkpenguin · 1 year

Note

Hey there, can I get an Orson krennic x FemReader “My eyes are the only thing I don’t want to take off of you.” With a Jealousy trope? I just think that would be so intriguing and you write so wonderfully. I saw your other krennic fic through a reblog and loved every bit of it!!

Hope you’re having a lovely day! 💜

A/N: Phew, anon, this request got me WERKED UP! It turned into surprise smut - something about the eyes... idk it's been a long week. Anywayssss hope you love it, thx for the request!!! <3

Everything but my eyes Orson Krennic (Rogue One) X Fem!Reader

18+ ONLY - MINORS DNIi

Warnings: oral sex (fem. receiving), not proofread Word Count: 4400

“You could be executed for what you’ve done, do you understand that!”

Orson shook with rage as he paced restlessly in front of you. You smoothed your face into a mask of apathy as you nodded.

“Yes, Director,” you stammered in reply, trying and failing to conceal the note of terror in your voice. Despite being an old friend, he was still your superior officer and, aside from your co-conspirator Galen, the only one in the Empire who knew of your treachery. By military code, Orson was responsible for your punishment. Your eyes flicked to the blaster clipped to his belt. Against the crisp white of his uniform, the black metal of the weapon seemed more menacing than usual.

“Don’t call me Director right now,” he replied sharply, causing your eyes to snap up to his face, which was pinched with worry. As your eyes connected, his expression softened somewhat. “I’m not talking to you as your commanding officer, y/n, I’m talking to you as your friend.” Despite the anger in his voice, you heard a note of unmistakable tenderness in the way Orson said your name. You let your shoulders relax an inch as you realized he wasn’t going to kill you right then and there.

As he anxiously paced, Orson ran a hand through his dark hair streaked with gray. The color suited him, you noted idly, although the strain and pressure that had put those gray streaks there did not. Your friend Orson - the legendary rabble rouser and the most brilliant engineer you’d ever met - had gotten trampled by the Empire. Even as he rose in rank and repute as an Imperial Science Officer, each passing accomplishment tied to Orson Krennic’s name left behind less and less of the man you knew. And it broke your heart.

“I’m sorry, Orson,” you blurted out. The admission came with more emotion than you’d wanted to let slip, your voice cracking on his name. He paused, freezing mid-inhale for a moment before he seemed to regain his composure. He turned his back to you as he faced out of the large windows in his office, the emptiness of space swallowing his silhouette in the dim light. You longed to see his face; you could feel the conflict between duty and friendship raging inside him. If you could see his eyes, you’d have a better sense of which side was winning. But Orson was closed off to you, the fidget in his fingers and the tension in his shoulders the only clues you had as to his emotional state.

“I had to help him… I had to. There wasn’t an option. I couldn’t let it happen.” You sighed, frustrated that you couldn’t articulate your reasons with more clarity. You’d spent so many weeks grappling with the choice you’d made, and now, in the moment where your life literally depended on your ability to defend that choice, you fell miserably short. Your defense sounded petulant and weak, and even an old friend like Orson would need more than that if he was going to spare your life.

You didn’t know how to make Orson understand why you’d chosen to help Galen contact the Rebellion and destroy the Death Star. The Death Star was Orson’s crowning achievement as an Imperial Science Officer, a project he’d devoted the last ten years of his career to. You knew that Orson had been bitterly crushed on a personal level when he’d learned about the betrayal. Orson had counted on your and Galen’s support of the project; hell, both you and Galen had helped create the damn thing alongside Orson. The idea that his two oldest friends had conspired in secret to destroy the very thing that they’d struggled to build - the same thing that would undoubtedly determine the fate of his career in the Empire - was inconceivable to Orson.

You’d wanted so many times to tell Orson of your misgivings about the project. You couldn’t reconcile the memory of your friend with the callous, power-hungry Imperial puppet he’d become. You knew that the Orson you knew was still in there, buried beneath layers of false pride and vain ambition that the Empire had beaten into him. You saw flickers of the man you remembered in his eyes, heard echoes of him in Orson’s laugh. You couldn’t give up on him. That was ultimately why you’d decided to risk your own life and help Galen. Yes, to save countless lives from the destructive powers of the Death Star; but mostly, it was to save Orson. You knew that if the Death Star survived to fulfill its purpose that it would kill more than just whatever defenseless planet the Empire decided to target first: it would destroy whatever shreds of Orson Krennic remained, leaving behind nothing but an empty shell in its place. He’d been dying by inches since the Empire had recruited him, and it was more than you could bear to watch him vanish forever.

“There wasn’t a choice… not for me, anyway.” Your argument fizzled out as a tense moment of silence stretched between the two of you.

Orson halfway turned back to you. In the soft light of his office, you could see his handsome profile etched against the darkness behind him. He chewed on his lips thoughtfully as he considered your words. You waited, wondering which way the dice of fate would roll. Determined not to waste what could be your last moments alive - and your last moments with Orson - you studied his face, committing its lines and shadows and angles to memory.

“You love him, don’t you?” Orson’s question was quiet but his tone was acidic, as if speaking the words physically hurt. He turned to face you fully, his piercing blue eyes bearing down on you.

Your brows knit together in confusion, your mouth opening and closing noiselessly as you tried to grasp his meaning.

“Galen. You love him, don’t you?” Orson clarified, his tone bolder now as if your hesitation confirmed the answer he’d expected.

As Orson’s question became clear, you let out an involuntary snort at the ridiculousness of the idea. Galen Erso was your oldest friend, but he was not the object of your affections, even if you had risked your life to help him betray the Empire. The irony was that the man you did love - the one who kept you awake at night with unfulfilled desire - was standing right in front of you. Your fate was in his hands, and he seemed poised on the edge of dooming you because he was convinced you loved another.

Feeling caught off guard by the sudden turn in conversation, you stumbled over your words. “Orson, what- that’s ridiculous, of course I’m not in love with Galen, he’s my friend!” Even though your words were true, the stutter in your voice was unconvincing.

Orson’s ice blue eyes narrowed at you.

Seizing on his silence, you pressed on.

“I didn’t betray the Emp-”

“Ssh!” Orson stepped forward, closing the distance between you two quickly, and clamped a hand over your mouth. He backed your body up against the wall, his breath warming your cheek. The way he enveloped you was protective and instinctual, and you had to force yourself not to melt under his touch. Orson looked around emphatically, shaking his head. Although the two of you were alone in his quarters, you were still aboard an Imperial starship. To speak so openly about how you’d aided Galen in betraying the Empire was risky, even in the relative privacy of a commanding officer’s chambers. You knew the Empire wasn’t above spying on their own; you’d simply forgotten that crucial fact in your rush to explain yourself.

You nodded under Orson’s palm, indicating you understood. He stepped back and released your mouth, although his fingers trailed down the side of your jaw just a fraction too long. The lingering feel of that barely-there caress set your blood ablaze. Some rational corner of your mind berated you for being so distractible and frivolous in the midst of what could very well be the end of your life. But now, as you stood mere inches away from Orson, both of your chests heaving with emotion, you weren’t so sure of the outcome anymore. Or maybe it was that you no longer cared.

“I didn’t do what I did for Galen,” you continued, lowering your voice to a whisper. You saw hope flame in Orson’s eyes as he hung on your words. “I did it for you.”

Your admission hung in the air between the two of you, the only sound you could hear was your own heartbeat slamming against your eardrums.

“I couldn’t let the weapon be used. It would destroy you, Orson. I couldn’t sit by and let that happen. I would never forgive myself, not ever. The Empire’s taken too much of you already. I wouldn’t let them have your humanity. I’d die before I’d let that happen.” The words came cascading off your lips so fast you almost tripped over your own tongue. Once your mind finally caught up with your mouth, you snapped your jaw shut. You’d said too much, you felt certain. The urge to reach out and stuff the fading echoes of those words back down your throat was overpowering, but there was nothing to be done for it now. All you could now was wait…

And so you waited: waited for a reply, for the reply, the one that would determine your fate. It was all in Orson’s hands now. Your future, your admission of guilt. And, at long last, your heart. All you could do was wait…

The spark of hope in Orson’s blue eyes spread, melting the frost of rejection that had been there moments before. His gaze danced across your face, searching for something in your features, although what it was he sought, you couldn’t be sure. You forced yourself to meet his gaze although your instincts screamed at you. The conflicting urges in your body pulled you in a million different directions: run, grab his blaster, fall to your knees and beg for mercy, kiss him. Unable to choose, you stayed still, letting Orson’s unsettlingly intense gaze bore into you.

After a few moments of silence, Orson cleared his throat and took a half step back from you. His gaze dropped; you felt the air rush back into your lungs even though you hadn’t realized you’d been holding your breath. He pulled down on the front of his crisp white uniform, straightening it and rolling his shoulders as if he was shaking off the weight of a thousand worlds.

“Major Y/L/N, you are relieved of your rank, effective immediately. All additional duties and responsibilities befitting the rank of major are also revoked. I will make a formal notation in your file that the reason for your demotion is conduct unbecoming of an officer. You will be unable to hold an advanced rank or assume command responsibilities for the duration of your career. In lieu of a court martial and discharge, I will personally oversee your transfer back to the Corps of Engineers on Coruscant.”

Orson’s voice was bland and distant as he delivered your sentence. It was more than you’d dared hope for, and your knees threatened to buckle in relief as you realized that you wouldn’t face the biased judgment of the Imperial Military Court, or worse, a firing squad. You let out a shaky breath as you tried to compose yourself. Just behind that initial flood of relief came a sting of rejection that left tears pricking at the edges of your eyes. Orson’s dispassionate tone clearly conveyed that your intimate admission from moments before was going to be forgotten, relegated to the past and left there.

You swallowed thickly as you forced what you hoped was a grateful smile onto your lips . Orson was taking an enormous risk in keeping you alive. If anyone found out that he’d concealed your betrayal, he would be executed right next to you. The idea that you could hope for more was ridiculous.

“Do you understand, Major?” Orson asked, his voice tense.

You nodded feverishly.

“Yes, Director,” you replied, resuming use of his formal title to mirror his own detachment. “And thank you… thank you, Orson.” Just like earlier, your voice cracked on his name, the force of your emotions fracturing your very tenuous composure. You swiped away hot tears from your eyes as you tried to steady your breathing. He waited, absolutely still, while you gathered yourself. The process took an embarrassing amount of time, and you weren’t able to distract your mind from the sour feeling of rejection until you clasped your fists at your side, digging your nails into the soft flesh of your palms. The pain was enough to finally ease your emotions off the edge.

When you finally lifted your eyes to meet Orson’s, you found him staring at you with an intensity that made your skin crawl deliciously.

“I assume you’re relieving me of my blaster and taking my stripes?” you asked, more in an effort to break the tension than out of formality. You glanced meaningfully at the three gold stripes displayed on your shoulder boards, indicating your rank of major. Orson didn’t move to reply, his stare only growing more intense.

“Yes,” he replied after a few moments. His voice simmered like boiling water, but you tried to ignore that as you unclipped the blaster belt at your waist. You let the weapon hang from your outstretched hand unceremoniously as you held it out towards Orson. He took it from you, careful not to touch you, and laid it on his desk next to where he stood. You wouldn’t miss the damn thing anyways.

Next, you moved to undo the stiff shoulder boards, also handing them to Orson. He placed them next to your blaster with a slow and deliberate movement that was almost tender.

“And your jacket,” Orson added. You hesitated, a bit surprised by the unusual request. Your jacket was standard Imperial issue, not specific to your rank, and therefore wasn’t subject to collection by a superior officer upon demotion.

“My jacket?” you asked.

Orson nodded, his eyes still boring holes in your head. He stepped closer to you.

“And your uniform, Major.” You cocked your head at Orson, his meaning entirely lost on you. Surely he wasn’t trying to humiliate you by making you march back to your quarters without a uniform?

Sensing your hesitation, Orson took another step closer. He was mere inches from your face, his breath fanning over your forehead and causing your chest to tighten.

“In fact, I intend to take everything off you. Everything but my eyes.”

His voice was so low it was almost a growl. As the words settled in your ears, you felt heat race up your spine as your gut turned molten. The heavy pit in your gut bloomed into butterflies that flew into your chest. You could barely breathe as you looked up at him through your lashes, almost afraid to lift your chin.

“What did you say?” you managed to choke out through ragged breaths.

In response, you felt a firm finger clasp you under your chin, gently lifting your head until your face was inclined towards Orson. You took a shaky inhale before you let your eyes snap to his. For the first time since you’d started the conversation, you were able to decipher the emotion boiling in his gaze. It mirrored your own feelings, and underneath the lust was tenderness. Deeper than the tenderness of a friend and more mature than that of an infatuation. Love, you realized. You were seeing love in Orson’s eyes.

The two of you stared into each other for a few breaths. Your lips brushed one another as the two of you inhaled and exhaled.

“You heard me,” he whispered out after a few moments, his lips curling into a smile. It wasn’t the menacing, calculated smile you were used to seeing on him lately. This was a smile of pure happiness, the kind that stretched up to his eyes, making them twinkle with joy.

Unable to contain yourself, you smiled back, your chest blooming. All the years you’d kept your feelings inside, carefully damming them up behind walls of military formality, slammed against your mind at once. Your body felt loose, like your bones had turned to melted wax. It was delicious and overwhelming. Your smile turned to a laugh as relief and lust and joy seeped into every inch of your skin.

“I heard you,” you finally muttered in agreement as Orson leaned in, connecting your mouths at long last. You found his rhythm in your own mouth quickly, your breathing syncing with each other. You reached up with your hands, twisting your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and pulling him in closer. He moaned into your mouth at the contact, his arms snaking around your back as he turned and walked you backwards to his desk. When you felt the edge of his desk hit the back of your thighs, you let yourself sink onto it, wrapping your calves around Orson’s knees and pulling him in closer. He followed your lead eagerly, his hands roaming up and down your sides and across the expanse of your back. His movements felt reverent, like he was worshiping you. The feel of his body pressed against you sent a new wave of heat sizzling through your limbs, and you intensified your kiss.

Both of you were giving over to the moment, swallowing soft moans and sighs from the other as you began fumbling with the buckle of his belt and him with the buttons of your uniform. The task at hand forced you two to break the kiss and focus your fingers, each of you racing to remove the layers between you. As you undid the button of his pants, easing them down over his muscular legs, he pulled back the sleeves of your uniform. The skin on your chest above your brazier puckered with goose pimples at the cold air. You saw Orson catch the sight in his lust-blown eyes. In an instant, his mouth was dancing across the expanse of your neck, leaving a trail of kisses across your collarbone as his hand began working up under the band of your bra.

When you felt his mouth bare down on your throat, sucking the soft skin there gently between his teeth, you threw your head back. One of his hands caught the back of your head expertly, giving you the feel of being completely undone in his arms. The sensation sent a shiver down the length of your body, heat beginning to build at the apex of your thighs.

Sensing your need, Orson stepped back slightly to ease your pants down over your ass. He tossed them aside, working to remove his own shirt before stepping back against your body and connecting your mouths again. The warmth of his skin was welcome in the slight chill of his office, and you melted against him. The kiss was deeper this time. Orson took his time, cupping both your cheeks in his hands as his tongue danced against your lips. Your mind was beginning to go fuzzy at the edges, your focus narrowing to the sensations where your bodies connected.

After a few moments, Orson stepped back again. You whimpered involuntarily at the loss of contact. He heard the noise, a roguish grin dancing across his features.

“Time to make good on my promise, y/n,” he chuckled as he sank to his knees in front of you. Your mind was so scattered from the kiss that you couldn’t put together his comment, your thoughts reeling instead as you began to realize what he was building to. Kneeling in between your legs, Orson let his fingers trail lazily up the length of your legs to where your underwear sat, notched above your hip bones. He looped a finger from each hand under the band of your underwear, pulling them down your legs slowly and greedily, leaving you exposed to him. Part of you felt embarrassed to have a man so close to your sex like that, and you twisted your hips to try and close your thighs to his gaze. Orson caught the movement, a momentary look of displeasure flickering across his face as he gently pried your thighs apart with his hands. You let him, trusting in the depth of devotion you saw in his eyes when he looked up at you.

“What promise?” you finally managed to stammer out, a flush spreading over your cheeks. You were desperate for some way to distract from a feeling of awkwardness beginning to take seed at how naked you were.

“My eyes. They stay on you.”

With those words barely off his lips, Orson threw your thighs over his shoulders and sank down between your legs, his mouth enveloping your sex as his tongue darted against the sensitive spot that made you see stars. Your heart pirouetted in your chest as the knot deep in your stomach tightened. Your head fell back, your jaw slackening as Orson began working on you. His skill at kissing was a pale comparison to the skill he demonstrated now, his lips and tongue swirling over you in a manner you’d never knew to dream of before. As the tension in your body continued to build, your legs tensing against his back, you looked down at the vision before you. Just as he’d promised, his eyes were glued to you, drinking you in with his gaze as he devoured you with his mouth. The combination of sensations was overwhelming, causing you to gasp and moan in a manner quite unlike you. With the pleasure blooming in your lower body, it wiped your mind of any embarrassment you’d felt before. You let yourself go, your eyes slipping shut as you focused on the feelings.

You felt yourself stretch as Orson added one finger, then two, to the intricate combination of movements he was performing on your pussy. You cried out, louder than you’d meant to, but the sound only encouraged him. Flattening his tongue against you, you felt the pace and pressure of his fingers intensify. Your legs began to quiver against his shoulders, spurring him on more, his eyes watching your every reaction and taking your every cue. You let your back lay flat against his desk, one hand coming to lace itself in his hair as you pulled him down against you harder, grinding your hips up to meet his mouth. You felt him laugh proudly against you at your neediness, the vibrations sending shockwaves up and down your back.

Feeling the knot in your stomach tighten to its breaking point, you jackknifed up on the edge of the desk as your orgasm crested inside you. Orson held you together as your legs went slack, his mouth still caressing you as his fingers slowed to a languid, drawn out pace. Your breath turned heavy as your mind dissolved to mist, a mixture of incoherent moans and Orson’s name falling freely from your lips like a prayer. He never faltered, his pace matching your come down perfectly as you rode out the high. As you slowly felt yourself coming back to your body, you felt Orson slowly pull his fingers out of you, then pull his mouth away with one last long lick up the length of your sex.

He stood up, leaning over your slack figure sprawled out on the desk.

“I’m glad I watched,” he whispered as he planted kisses against your neck, patiently waiting for you to come back to him. The sound of his voice and the evident possessive pride you heard there made the remnants of that spent pleasure flicker back to life in your gut.

“That was a sight I’ll never forget,” he continued as you wrapped your arms around his back, pulling him down into your embrace. He let you, smiling happily as he brought his face level with yours.

“Top marks, Director,” you quipped, earning a deep throated laugh from him as the two of you exchanged some staccato kisses.

“Now, my love, why don’t you tell me again how colluding to destroy the Death Star, betraying the single most powerful military force in the galaxy, and risking horrible pain through torture followed by an ignominious death was all for me?” The sarcastic tone in his voice caused you to let out a shocked, bark of a laugh. You saw the twinkle of happiness in Orson’s eyes burn brighter at the sound, confirming what you’d always hoped for: that you really had saved him, saved the man you knew he could be.

“It was all for you, Orson,” you replied, your tone much more serious and emphatic than his. His playful smile softened slightly as his eyes danced back and forth between yours. After a quiet moment, you felt him grip you and pull you up to his chest as he stood. His strength surprised you; he handled your body with ease, the muscles of his shoulders and upper arms flexing enticingly. He carried you around the side of his desk, towards a door you’d never been through before but you knew led to his bedchamber.

“I should be the one thanking you, then,” he said as the door to his bedroom opened automatically with a soft whoosh. His tone was soft now, more serious but with a heat behind it. Your toes curled at the promise in those words as the corners of your mouth pulled up into a smile.

“Wasn’t that what just happened?” you asked breathlessly as he knelt on the edge of his bed, depositing you onto the ludicrously soft blankets before coming to lay beside you, his head propped up on his bent arm.

“Oh, my love, that was just the warm up,” he replied with a smirk and a wink. You laughed, joyful and carefree and eager to take him up on the offer in his gaze. The two of your mouths met once more, and even though he’d technically broken his promise as his eyes fell closed, you decided you’d let him off the hook… just this once…

#orson krennic x reader #orson krennic smut #orson krennic x oc #orson krennic x y/n #orson krennic #star wars imagine #star wars daddy #orson krennic is daddy #director daddy

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enaelyork · 10 months

Text

[Nebuleuse - NFSW WIP]

Am i sorry for this ? I don't know guys. Really i dont...

Tags/Warnings: age gap, trash talk, smut, oral sex (M! receiving), masturbation, sex in public place. 🫣

Tags : @fenharel-enaste, @starlady66, @alotofrandomfangirling

+18 DNI

I had stayed for a good hour in the street next to the offices, devouring pasta that I had reheated in a hurry, as if their digestion could do the same to me with the events that follow one another in my life.

Gobbling them up without thinking, as my heart tried to swallow my emotions until it sickened. The smell of tomato sauce and spices mix with the stifling and bitter atmosphere of the capital. A feeling sent back to me by the city and which strangely made me think of Krennic.

This city was in his image: Cold, ruthless, acid, the infamous smell less, of course. He smelled good, as long as his smell still haunted me several days after he touched me.

When I couldn't swallow anything more, I resigned myself to returning to the office, thinking that my stomach was as full as my soul was empty.

Broken.

Martyred.

The tumult of the building left me indifferent and when I took the deserted corridor reserved for our service I was exhausted. Nervously, psychologically, emotionally. I couldn't take any more of all this unsaid, of all this blackmail, I was tired of being a puppet at the mercy of the Tarkins. To have had to sacrifice my ideas to satisfy values that do not belong to me. Then, suddenly, a violent shock brought me out of my torpor. I had just hit something as hard as a wall, but way too hot to really be one.

Krennic.

—What ? I groan at his piercing gaze. Now was not the time to get in my way. I didn't want to see him. Don't want to play. And it wasn't just because of the oath I had sworn to my grandmother and my father had just burned. Not just because of the shit Ellie was getting us all into while fucking with Thrawn.

But it was him. It made me mad with rage to realize the power this man had over me and I couldn't accept that anyone other than Father could afford it.

He remained silent, his shadow advancing towards me, forcing me back against the wall where my back crashed. He took his ranks from his pocket and slammed the plate against the identification window. A satisfied beep sounded and the elevator door opened to release my back from its grip, allowing us to step inside.

I was shaking, my legs were struggling to keep myself upright, and my heart was probably going to stop any moment now.

—Something wrong, Orson?" I say in a wavering voice. Because it seems to me that you got what you wanted and that was enough to move on.

He looked almost as serious as a death.

— It's more easier.

I blink. He wasn't drunk, not a single ounce of alcohol escaped his mouth when he blew against my forehead.

— Simple ?

— To be ruthless. To play. That's why they call me a monster. But people make me sick. Their looks, their contempt, their endless flow of absurd words. They like to listen to themselves, they like what they are when they have no merit, when they were born like that, whereas I...

If I opened my mouth now I was going to miss something very important, so I was so petrified at the thought of him getting discouraged that I almost couldn't breathe.

—That's why I hate them. They don't have a clue what it means to everything I do, everything I've worked for. So I play to survive. I play because I convince myself that they are no more valuable than me, and you, you...

Me ?

I wasn't going to know. Not immediately. But it wasn't necessary. He didn't need to tell me what I already knew. It took my breath away so much that I barely realized his hand was already unhooking the opening of my uniform pants. At that precise moment I couldn't push him away, I didn't want to, I never wanted to.

—I need to fuck you. he whispers in a shaking voice in my neck, pressing me a little more against the wall. That's all I think Vicky. You. I need it and it's messing up my existence, my galaxy, my head and especially my priorities.

—Do it. I moaned. My hand slipped into his pants to grab his dick. His erection was so strong it instantly took my breath away.

I wanted it too.

I needed to feel him inside me, needed him to make me forget the shit we'd gotten ourselves into. To forget that life was just a dramatic series of disappointments that bound together to form a pitiful tragedy. That was the reality. Him, me, Ellie, Thrawn, we were all entangled in a war machine that crushed our souls and we wanted more and more. We were instruments who had decided to do as we pleased, dreading the moment when we would have to fall into line for good.

Krennic turned to press the emergency stop button on the elevator and then lifted me up to allow me to wrap my legs around his waist. My mouth crashed into his, devouring all of the air that was trying to escape. I bit him almost bleeding, desperately, greedily. It was as if my life depended of his mouth and what he was going to do to me.

He devours me relentlessly, crushing my lips in a destructive kiss. He kisses me without stopping, lips, face, jaw and my closed eyelids. I was ready to die like this. In his arms.

Adored by the only motherfucker in the galaxy who could make me see the stars.

Beyond his pants, I tried to caress him, to feel his penis swell even more between my fingers and this feeling made me lose the little reason I had left.

— Please. Please…

—Please what? his voice was deep, and i can see desire in his eyes.

—Please fuck me.

He laughed nervously. I had never had to beg anyone in my entire life. No one had resisted me, no matter the area of my existence. Except my family, except them, so it was up to me to bow down and accept the obligations. I couldn't take it anymore and never thought I was going to fuck them off begging someone to fuck me. But it was Orson Krennic. And with him there was always that moment of ruthless resistance that preceded a destructive explosion.

— It is complicated.

He was right. No time, no resources. One bastard in the family was enough. Nothing that allowed us to be able to do it in the rules. But it was too late to back down, too late to tell him to stop touching and biting me like he was doing. He had already given me too much and I wanted more.

—I want you inside me, you can't, you...

— I have a solution. He said with a smile, kissing the corner of the lips. He pulled back and dropped me to his knees, pulling his cock out of his pants before grabbing my hair to bring my face closer to the tip of his glans. I finished pulling his pants down to his ankles and grabbed his cock with my hand before kissing the end.

My desire for him was so depraved that I didn't feel a shred of shame at the thought of anything I wanted to do to him. So I took it as far into my mouth as I could, covering it completely before sucking it like candy. My hand moved back and forth around his base as we were captivated by noises that were sure to drive him crazy.

— Crap. He whispered as he wrapped my hair around his wrist. I was still pinned against the wall as he moved back and forth in my mouth, losing his balance so much that he had to hold one hand against the wall to keep from falling.

—Why do I always come back?" Why are you controlling me like that? What makes you so irresistible to me? Fuck.

I had no intention of responding to him, picking up my brisk pace and when my tongue pressed against the tip of his cock, the salty nectar tickling my tongue drove me crazy.

—Touch yourself, or I'll have to deal with you real quick.

And I comply, like the docile girl I was for him. Too curious to know where this little game will take us. But when I plunged into the throes of a pleasure that I barely discovered that I was interrupted by several shocks against the wall of the elevator.

— Somebody there ? Maintenance Droid!

— Shit ! Damn droid! he growled half-consciously, clutching my skull to hold me down as he sped up and down in my mouth. Tears welled up in my eyes from his repeated thrusts down my throat, steadily intensifying a little more.

—Keep on going. Touch yourself and let go of my cock. I'm going to cum, Vicky.

Hearing it rumble above me sent a shiver down my spine. We were about to get caught having sex in an elevator in one of the largest Imperial buildings and I couldn't see myself explaining how Krennic's cock had ended up deep in my throat. Because this droid was going to come back, write a report and it was going to sink us both. I should be panicking, but the situation was so exciting that I wasn't sure I would stop even if the robot were to force open the door.

— I will cum in your mouth. He repeated like a litany. It was delicious to hear the tone of his voice twist under the effect of the approaching orgasm. He was at my mercy, vulnerable, he literally depended on my mouth.

—Someone here ? launched the droid again through the metal wall. Krennic punched the wall hard.

—Director Krennic and Chief Engineer Tarkin. Can't send us help instead of bellowing? He roared in anger. I almost wanted to burst out laughing at how absurd the situation was. His body was starting to shake and his legs were starting to falter around my fingers. He was close, as long as he stroked my cheek as if to ask my permission. I nod gently and it doesn't take more than a few seconds for a warm, thick liquid to fill my throat. I had done this before, swallowing as fast as I could so the taste wouldn't soak into my mouth, but not this time. I let it sink into me for a moment before swallowing it while touching myself.

— Shit. He whispered, grabbing me by the hair and pulling me up. I hadn't reached orgasm and I fully intended to. He presses me against the wall, my hand still firmly anchored in my panties.

—I want you, Vicky. Entirely. Tell me you'll give me anything I want when we're down and I'll make you cum before that droid comes back.

—No. I say in a placid voice. I'm not excited enough, I lied. And now that I know that droid is coming back.

—He won't come, you'll come. Here. Provided you promise me that your little ass will be mine soon.

I laugh like a drunk. I was drunk to him, his scent and the feel of his body against my sweaty skin. His fingers, which rested on mine to guide them between my thighs, which I spread even further, made me dizzy. His middle finger slowly slid over my lips and moved up to tease my ass before returning to my drenched pussy and I pursed my lips not to give him what he wanted right away.

—You are very quiet today. he whispers in my ear. My eyes met his before hovering above us, letting myself be carried away by the delicious feel of his hand.

—I thought that was what you liked. The silence.

—Not with you. You are not like others, you are like me, you hate this world in the same way.

—Liar. You love this. Wealth, opulence, glory. You feed on it.

— Error. I'm just playing the game to get myself a place of choice, little star.

—Did you just give me a stupid nickname again, Orson?

My muscles contract gently around his fingers. This way he had to guide me in my caresses was a pure delight and I was too proud to admit it.

—It's always better than Honey

— I like that nickname.

—Would you rather little star, or baby Tarkin.

—No.

—Keep kidding yourself. He digs his fingers deeper into me and I scream as I cling to him, his teeth digging into my neck as I explode around his hand. No. I'm literally shattered. It was as if he had just slammed me against a wall and shattered me into pieces so violently that I wondered if I would ever be able to fix myself for good. The tremor that ran through me was so violent that I felt like I couldn't breathe. Knocks sounded outside.

—Director Krennic? K5W and K9SA for extraction. Stay calm.

Krennic looked at me smiling. He was buttoning his pants while I was doing the same with mine, my cheeks flushed. My face ravaged by what had just happened. I was persuaded to carry his stigmata for weeks and I literally consumed myself from within. Yet, I had never been so relaxed in my entire life.

—They said to stay calm. He put a mocking smile on his lips. His breath hit my forehead and I chuckled against his shoulder. If those poor droids knew what they had just escaped.

—Physically, I've never been this good. But here, we have just entered a dangerous zone, Orson. An area where I have never set foot before. I swallowed, fearing that my frankness would give me away completely. But the serious expression that crossed his electric eyes led me to believe that he was immersed in the same torments as me.

— Me neither. But I'm not afraid of the unknown. And you too, baby Tarkin, you survived on Geonosis, this kind of hostile terrain shouldn't scare you anymore.

#orson krennic x reader #krennicishot #krennic #director orson krennic #orson krennic #director daddy #director krennic fanfic #director krennic x reader #director krennic #starwars #star wars smut #star wars fanfiction #krennic x reader

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nahoney22 · 4 months

Note

Hi, love! 💙

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

Jealous Thrawn , NSFW, tension with Director Orson Krennic~

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

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

A Warrior’s Needs***

Grand Admiral Thrawn X F!Reader

word count: 8.7k

Sneaky peak at my collab with @raevulsix 🤍 ^

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until right now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"All of that has been arranged already."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yet, nothing seemed amiss.

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

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

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

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

However, things started to take an unexpected turn.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That she does."

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

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

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

(Art by Raevulsix)

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

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

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

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

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

"And it does her?" Krennic prodded.

"Yes," Thrawn affirmed, tone low.

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

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

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

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

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

"Grand Admiral Thrawn, I—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Grand Admiral Thra—"

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

"S-Sorry?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thrawn."

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

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

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

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

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

Ouch.

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

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

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

"Grand A—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Lose control then."

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

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

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

(Art by Raevulsix)

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

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

“I assume that you like what you see?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thrawn… touch me. Please.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh my.. fuck… Thrawn I’m going to-.”

“Do it. Cum on my tongue. Now.”

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

“Another.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He snaps.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Harder.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

———

Masterlist

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

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davesrightshoe · 2 months

Text

Corrected

Thrawn x Y/N (18+!)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Take me to him now,” he commanded.

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

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

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

“Is he in his office right now?”

“No, sir.”

“Then take me wherever the kriff he is.”

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

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

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

“Do you have personal access?”

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

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

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

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

Maker, this was just getting worse and worse.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sir, I—I’m sorry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You said not to disturb you, sir.”

“Yes, and then why was I disturbed?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good Girl. Now get over my desk.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dividers from @cafekitsune

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

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ao3feed-rebelcaptain2 · 1 year

Text

Written In The Stars

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/FCTfHR3

by Aud_Diane

When Krennic arrived to bring Galen Erso back to finish his weapon, he captured Jyn as well. Jyn has grown up in the Empire, being told nothing but "don't ask questions." As the secret weapon nears completion, Jyn has to know what her father has spent her life creating and Director Krennic needs a plan to keep her out of the wat.

Cassian has gone undercover as a Commander in the Imperial Security Bureau. Rumors of the Empire's planet-killing weapon have been leaked, causing Krennic to ask for his help to control the situation and, to Cassian's annoyance, control the daughter of one of his chief scientist's.

Forced Marriage AU

Words: 3498, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/M

Characters: Cassian Andor, Jyn Erso, K-2SO (Star Wars), Orson Krennic, Galen Erso

Relationships: Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso, Cassian Andor & Jyn Erso

Additional Tags: Forced Marriage, Falling In Love, Enemies to Lovers, Spy Cassian Andor, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/FCTfHR3

#ao3feed #rebelcaptain #rebel captain #jyn x cassian #cassian x jyn #rebelcaptain fanfic #jynxcassian

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itsagrimm · 2 years

Text

The Hate

Karyn Faro X Brierly Ronan

This exists as the collective brainchild of spoiledyoghurt (AO3) and me as we were wondering why nobody wrote something about this terrible combination yet (hello this is a match made in Hoth???). Naturally, we took matters into our own cursed hands and created *eh* this.

CN smut, PIV sex, female receiving oral sex, mentions of cum, toxic working conditions, the fascistic empire is not a great place to have healthy dynamics and casual sex so be warned if you are in search of a romantic happy ending this won’t be it, Ronan gets manhandled by faro aka womanhandled, attempt of shaming, hate fucking, They use each other.

3.5 k words.

He was an impressive kind of irritation.

Like an itching wound one was not allowed to scratch.

Commodore Karyn Faro, commander of the ISD Chimera and second in command to grand admiral Thrawn, smiled as she fantasized about how she’d throw Brierly Ronan out of an air lock, shutting him up forever. Colonel Brierly Ronan had been sent to the Chimera as an observer and messenger for director Krennic. Shipments for the mysterious stardust project kept getting lost and Thrawn had wagered to solve this mystery in exchange for funding for the Tie Defender project. As stressful as that task was, Ronan made it worse. Instead of being helpful or at least not in the way, Ronan had made it his personal mission to annoy Faro or question the grand admiral’s ability every chance he got.

The one on the second floor would suffice, removed from any quarters, no witnesses, just peace after getting rid of this walking nuisance.

The thought immensely improved her mood.

Ronan pranced onto the bridge. His cape swinging dramatically around his wide shoulders.

Faro suppressed an eyeroll.

What a ridiculous cape.

He cleared his throat, obnoxious and loud just to draw attention to himself.

“Colonel Ronan.”, Thrawn’s deep unimpressed, melodic voice called over the bridge as if to calm a particularly stubborn child, “Join us. Have you brought the data I require?”

The Colonel stepped closer.

He was a colonel in name only. Not really part of any military hierarchy. Faro had checked after Ronan had tried to pull rank on her to get better accommodations on the Chimera. Just a lowly bureaucrat trying to boss her (and everyone else he could) around.

“Yes, of course. I have it on me.”, Ronan replied while joining Thrawn and Faro at the command console.

“Good. Pass it to the analytics team. We shall-”

“I will not.”

Thrawn turned his head and fixated this audacious little man with red eyes and an unmoving expression.

“Explain.”

“Everything concerning Stardust is confidential”, he declared, “I cannot pass this data to random unverified personnel.”

“The Chimera’s analytics team is hardly random nor unverified.”, The grand admiral countered, “Alas, commodore Faro shall suffice with analyzing the supplied data for any hints about pirate activity. Dismissed.”

Ronan looked like he was about to object and Faro felt a strange urge to step on his feet just to shut him up for once. Instead, her glare was warning enough that she was dangerously close to having him dragged off the bridge by the death troopers on duty should Ronan continue his insolence. Audibly, he closed his mouth and followed her to one of the adjacent rooms to read out the data card.

She stepped into the little room normally used by Thrawn to receive surprise holocalls in private. Except for a conference table, some chairs and a workstation it was bare and clinically professional as usual on imperial ships.

Faro sat behind the workstation and stretched out her arm, wordlessly demanding the data card from the man before her.

He just looked down at her, unmovable.

“I need the data to proceed” she said coldly with her hand still stretched out.

“Military etiquette has diminished apparently. Say please.”, he dragged every syllable as if he enjoyed talking down to her.

“Say ‘Thank you’ for being tolerated on my ship, instead. And now, give. me. the. data.”, there was a glacial steadiness in her voice surprising even herself.

With a red head and lips pressed into one thin white line Ronan passed her a single data card.

“Thank you.”, she said with a tone clearly communicating her distaste for his existence.

“You are welcome.”, he mirrored her before sitting down next to her and gawking at the terminal screen read out.

Faro tried to ignore him as much as possible while she started reading through the data. It was a cargo manifest from one of the lost ships.

Number after number.

Word after word.

Exhale after inhale of his breath on her skin.

Fero stiffened under the sensation.

She felt the heat of his body radiating unpleasantly on the side of her body close to him as he observed every step of her work.

He shifted, touching her knee and she couldn’t help but shiver from the sensation.

“Is it common practice to encroach and micromanage in the stardust project?”Faro huffed as if she just complained about the weather.

She was seething but she would not give Ronan the pleasure of showing that.

“Just doing some regular precautions. Am I stressing you out with it?”, he mumbled as if mentioning they ran out of caf, “I always heard competent bridge personnel are good at working under stress, right Faro?”

“Commodore Faro” she corrected, “And unlike you I actually earned my military title. Don’t test me.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”, he chuckled cheerlessly, a mean little sound.

"Good.' Now move the kriff away from me.”

She did not even turn away from the screen as he skidded away. The heat of his body was gone, she felt cold without it as she tried to continue her reading. All those numbers and letters danced around as if mocking her like Ronan did.

She took a deep breath and straightened up in an attempt to concentrate.

“You know that Thrawn had blocked your promotion.”

That’s it.

She snapped her head around. The pathetic little man was sprawled out in the chair, looking at his hands and continuing with his offhand remarks.

“It’s true.” he murmured, “I checked it myself. Congrats on nearly leading the Task Force 231. How unfortunate that Thrawn blocked it.”

“Grand Admiral Thrawn”, Faro shot back, “It’s Grand Admiral Thrawn. And I don’t think it’s any of your business. Besides, he likely had his reasons.”

But did he? The thought of Thrawn blocking her promotion unsettled her more than she wanted to admit. She was so used to being able to rely on him, to count on him having her back.

“Pardon me, Faro but you are too old to be this naive of a woman.”

“Don’t-” she hissed, placing a finger on his lips in warning, “tell me what kind of woman I am.”

He stared at her. Big eyes and well-kept hair of a self-important bureaucrat melting under her punishing eyes. Before she could take her hand away Ronan opened his mouth and licked.

Slowly he raised his hands taking hers in and licked her now open hand, inserting more fingers into his mouth.

She was stunned. Was this really happening?

He looked at her in confusion.

“Did I misread this?” His voice was careful now, nearly humble.

She liked that. It stirred something hot and wet and powerful in her.

Faro took a good look at the man before her.

It was still Ronan, the little man who was too unjustifiably sure of himself.

But he was not in her command chain. And he was pretty, she had to admit.

The prettiest part about him to her was how he looked up to her, waiting for her command. Allowing her control, pushing away her doubts and begging her to shut him up.

And it has been so long.

“You have a strange way of flirting'', she said and patted his cheek with her saliva wet hand. ”We need to be quick.”

He nodded.

Faro looked around, assessing the room for her newfound needs.

It was as cold and uninviting as always.

Before she could make a choice where they could do it, as her mind still struggled with the image of Ronan this way, his hand touched her face.

It was gentle and nice, things she did not see him as.

“Would you like to kiss?” another of his surprisingly demure questions.

She weighed her options, considered her strategy before speaking “Yes, but not like this” as she moved in and clashed into his lips.

Faro tasted blood. His or hers did not matter. He answered her unloving kiss and pulled her closer onto his lap.

Yes, this was starting to go into a good direction.

The metallic taste in her mouth subsided as she leaned down and started working down his neck.

“No”, he protested weakly, “no marks.”

She stopped with a devilish grin.

He wanted to keep this a private matter too. Good.

Not wasting time she started undressing him, struggling with his ridiculous cape clasps while he reached for her and unbuttoned her tunic and pants.

Faro felt her breathing hitch before getting up and shaking off the last of her clothes.

He did the same.

As she turned, now nude, she took a look at him. Ronan had the body of someone working at a desk yet having a too stressful life to stay seated much.

Faro wasn’t one to judge others for their appearance. Her time in the military had shown too often how superficial that was and how much that did hide actual skill.

But she could not help herself but like what she saw.

“You should step out of that uniform more often, commodore.”, Ronan complimented with a grin.

“Don’t get used to the sight.”

“I could.”

“What you should do is sit down.”

“Gladly.”

He sat back down on the chair, his eyes full of expectation.

Faro stepped closer and grabbed him by the jaw. “Listen, Ronan. Is there anything you don’t want me to do?”

“No visible marks not covered by the uniform'', he repeated.

“Anything else?”

“No. I like this demanding side of yours.”

Faro rolled with her eyes.

“Of course you do. Tell me to stop when you need a break or you want to stop.”

He chuckled.“As if you could-”

She grabbed him stronger by the jaw.

“Just remember that you can tell me to stop, got it?”

“Got it, Karyn.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Since when are we that familiar? It’s Commodore Faro for you.”

“Awww, okay Kar-”

She sat on his lap, immediately shutting him up with the surprise of it.

A sound strategy.

Instantly, she felt him getting hard under her and grabbed his arms with one hand before twisting them, rendering him unmovable. It felt great.

“Feels like you like this.”, she stated, her voice triumphant, “May I?”

“Yes, commodore.”

She smirked and raised her hips high enough to feel the hard tip of his penis between her legs before sinking down onto him.

It was a stretch.

Doing this excited her more than enough and she felt astonishingly wet. But Faro had skipped foreplay in order to save time and to not endure Ronan more than she had to. Just because she was ready to sit on his cock and command him into whatever she wanted him to, didn’t me she wanted to explore his personality more than necessary. And he was so pleasantly out of words under her.

A groan escaped her as she adjusted to his size. Carefully she started moving her hips, collecting information, assessing the situation before deciding on the battle strategy.

She let go of his arms and grabbed him by the hair instead.

Instantly, his hands roamed her body.

He felt good like that. Gasping for air as she rode him, moving along like she wanted to, exposing his throat for her. She traced his Adam's apple where she would have bit him as she rode him, enjoying the feeling of Ronan hitting the spot inside of her just right.

Faros' eyes wandered further down. Ronan's chest was heaving and covered with a slight film of sweat. Delicious. She bowed down, dragging her nails over it before biting into his breast.

He wailed in surprise before she could clasp her hand over his mouth and mute his sounds.

“Too much?”, she asked as she stilled in her movements.

He nodded, his eyes turning watery from the pain and pleasure.

The sight turned her on.

“You are doing so well for telling me, look at you doing so fine while I ride you.” Faro praised the man under her while enjoying the pretty glaze in Ronan's eyes. He was lost in her and she knew it. No boastfulness or rudeness, no questioning her or annoying her.

She had him in her hands. Literally - as she dragged her nails over his shoulders and seized his jaw once more. Maybe they should repeat this again sometime. He was so fuckable like that.

Ronan’s grip around her tightened and the look in his eyes became more and more desperate.

Disappointed, she felt her lips curve down.

“Are you about to cum?”

“Yes.”

She bit back a comment on her tongue about endurance and that they had barely started. Instead she just stopped moving.

“I cum first.”

Ronan’s eyes returned to their normal arrogant and intelligent gleam as he grounded himself after the ruined orgasm.

He sighed.

“You wanted it to be quick”, he complained.

Faro clicked with her tongue.

“Wrong, Ronan. I wanted it to be quick for me.”, she explained, staring down on him, “You appear to have little difficulty in the quick cumming department but I require actual work to get somewhere.”

He furrowed his brows at the borderline insult before sighing again.

“Alright.” he grabbed her and lifted her up from his lap. Faro jolted up in his arms from the unanticipated shift as Ronan rose and seated her on the conference table. Under no circumstances she would have believed Ronan to be capable of such a feat. But adaptability in changing situations due to an update in information was something she was used to. Now, she even appreciated it. Unceremoniously, Ronan sat back down again and pushed his chair closer before he was between her legs. Faro hummed in approval as his hand wandered up her legs to her knees and thighs before wandering inward and firmly pushing her legs open.

She complied willingly, leaning backwards and closing her eyes.

Instead of the expected fingers on her cunt she felt Ronans tongue slowly but meticulously lapping at her clit. Faro bit her lips. Yes, maybe Ronan was not as bad as she had fought. He surely had his qualities.

A slight moan escaped her mouth as he inserted two fingers and sped up in his movements.

Qualities indeed.

Sometimes it was good to be surprised by an enemy, Faro couldn’t help but think as the pressure in her lower abdomen started to build. Frantically she searched for something to hold onto except for the slippery glass table she was sprawled onto and found nothing but Ronans shoulder.

He groaned and she blinked. Her fingers were leaving deep red marks on his skin as he pushed her further and further towards release.

Before she could do anything to change that her body seized up, catching her off guard as she nearly cried out from the pleasure running through her veins.

Ronan worked her through it, licking and sucking at her clit until she couldn’t bear the feeling of overstimulation anymore and pushed him away.

He leaned back on the conference room chair and waited for her to catch her breath again. As her breathing slowed she sat back up with her bare legs now half dangling off the table.

Their eyes met.

It was not as uncomfortable as she would have anticipated it to be. Instead she nodded to him for a job well done.

This was not romantic and she had no intention to treat it any other way than a satisfactory change of everyday routine.

She climbed off the table. Her legs felt weak yet steady enough to hold her as long as she gripped the table behind her for support.

“If you want…”, Ronan teased, “...we can stop anytime.”

“Shut up”, she hissed. She hated the return of smugness in his voice, “Get here and finish.”

He stood up from the damn chair.

He was taller than her. Faro looked up to him, seizing him up for his weaknesses and shamelessly gawking at the pretty little scratches she had left on him before turning around. Ronan stepped behind her. She felt his erection pressing against her ass and his breath now hot and welcome on her skin.

A moment later she felt him fumble and then press into her before gliding in, now without any difficulty. They moaned in unison before he started pounding into her. A good feeling, she had nearly forgotten as he hit a spot deep in her cunt that made her see the good kind of stars. Still weak from her previous orgasm, Faro bent over the table for support and concentrated on holding on as Ronan chased his own release now.

“Where?”, he asked flatly shortly after.

“Inside.” she whispered limply, “I have an implant.”

Lovely noises of Ronan gasping and groaning with the feeling of his cum in her cut marked the end of their little tryst.

Breathlessly, he bent over her before catching himself again and slipping out of her.

Faro gathered her strengths before standing up again.

In silence she contemplated what had happened.

They had fucked. In the most shameless and blunt meaning of the word. For a brief moment Faro considered the implications of their actions before shrugging them off. Ronan was likely still an unbearable man with a ridiculous uniform and annoying manners. But now at least Faro knew that Ronan had a few other abilities that did not require him to talk. It was an improvement. She gathered her clothes and started to get dressed again like Ronan. Wordlessly they finished before facing each other again.

Ronan returned quickly to his enraging set of behaviorisms.

“Faro. I trust it will not take too long for you to work through the data before you can report your findings.”

If he would have used his tone just moments before, she would have slapped him for that and now she knew he likely would have liked that. “It’s Commodore Faro and I don’t report to you. In fact you are on my ship so report back to me when you receive new data on the matter of the missing ships. Are we clear?”

Ronan gave her a challenging smile. “You know, your uniform is a bit disheveled, Commodore.”

She smiled back.

"Oh, I know. What are you gonna do about that?”

His smile froze.

If you think you can shame me for having sex and looking like it afterwards? You need to do better, asshole.

“It’s better if you leave, Ronan. The cleaning droid is about to start its work here.”

Quickly, he left the conference room, not sparing her a look.

Faro waited a few minutes. She took out the data card and secured her work materials before calling in a cleaning droid to the conference room.

To her surprise one was already scheduled for immediate cleaning duty. She checked the protocols, gasping in surprise.

Assigned by Grand Admiral Thrawn.

Faro felt embarrassment rising. Of course he would be able to tell after Ronan walked off the bridge. The admiral always found out things he was not supposed to know.

She sighed and braced herself for the far more taxing experience of having to face her commander than anything Ronan could have thrown at her.

With a swoosh the door to the bridge opened. Everything was as usual there. The calm work and familiar atmosphere reassured Faro. She was going to be fine. She just had to slip back to her cabin for a short-

“Commodore?”

One of the communications officers called her over.

Kriff, this was the worst moment. She really needed a shower.

“I am afraid the Commodore is tasked with an urgent task off the bridge'', Grand Admiral Thrawn's voice washed over her like summer rain. It was a lie. She had no tasks off bridge, she would have received a comm or a message on her holopad, “It will have to wait for a few moments.”

The chiss turned towards her, an unusually amused expression on his face. Apparently she could count on the Admiral no matter what Ronan said.

“Go.”

Gladly, she obeyed.

#karyn faro #brierly ronan #karyn faro x brierly ronan #thrawn treason #grand admiral thrawn #thrawn #karyn faro smut #star destroyer chimera #isd chimera #commodore faro #colonel ronan

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fenharel-enaste · 1 year

Text

Lace & Leather || Sugar Daddy!Orson Krennic x fem!Reader

Rating: +18 (smut)

Word count: 3k

Content/Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, p in v sex, Dom/sub dynamics, soft Dom!Krennic, Sugar Daddy/baby dynamics, some daddy kink, power imbalance, mild possessive behaviour, slight degradation, cock warming, oral sex (male receiving), alcohol consumption, praise kink (lots of this hgdhad), uniform kink, boot play (is that the name???). Let me know if I left anything out, please.

Notes: This is just a very self indulgent fic don't look at me hfhsdbc Thirsting over older men hours

It’s also on AO3!

As director Krennic's sugar baby, there was nothing in the galaxy that he couldn't provide for you, if you asked nicely. You only had to do one thing in return...

The agreement you had with director Krennic was simple. You didn't have to do anything really, just enjoy whatever activities you wanted to do. Learning, developing new skills, relaxing in the huge bathtub, taking care of yourself, enjoying all the luxuries the director could provide. He spared no expense to make you completely comfortable and satisfied in that magnificent station. You could have anything you wished for as long as you were there, you had only one single duty in return for it all.

You received the usual message that Orson was about to finish his day's work. As the man in charge of the greatest project the Empire had ever undertaken, the stakes were high, very high. His days were long and demanding in comparison to yours, so how could you not agree with your part of the deal?

You picked out one of the last sets of lingerie he'd bought for you, a white lacy one, so very revealing yet elegant and sophisticated. You shuddered when you remembered his eyes darkening when he saw you trying it in front of him for the first time, having to maintain composure in that expensive boutique until you arrived at his flat in Coruscant, where he unleashed on you all that lust he'd been hiding for hours.

You prepared yourself and stood facing the front door of the luxurious accommodations reserved for the station director, taking up the position he required of you. On your knees, hands on your thighs and head down, eyes fixed on your hands. Those were your only instructions once you received that message.

And waiting.

The rest would be up to him.

Sometimes he would arrive and simply want to relax with you on the couch or on the bed, or he would prepare the bathtub, where you always loved to wash and massage his body after a tough day. Other times he would simply use you, turning you over on the nearest surface and fucking you with little warning or time to adjust to him. That's why there was another rule you would have to follow. Making sure you were wet and ready for him at all times.

Not that you found it difficult, especially when you were on your knees, as you were now, with only silence all around you that would only be disrupted by the sound of his boots approaching from behind the door. The anticipation of not knowing which version of Krennic you were about to meet that night helped to gather between your legs the wetness he expected. Just for him.

When you heard the door slide open, you didn't look up, but you knew it was him. You could sense the smile of approval on his face, confirmed by the way he stroked your hair with his hand as he passed you, as if you were a precious pet of his waiting faithfully for its owner to come home. And in a way, that was the case.

You only allowed yourself to look up when he returned seconds later and squatted down in front of you, lifting your chin to make you look into his tired, but deep and caring blue eyes. He brought his face closer, pressing his lips to your forehead in a tender kiss. You let yourself get lost in his scent, he always smelled so intoxicatingly good.

His lips were still on your forehead when you heard a soft click under your chin. It was the leash that matched the collar around your neck, the leash you were not allowed to touch under any circumstances, that was only for Krennic to do. He always carried it with him. The collar, on the other hand, you always had to wear, whether at home or in public. It was a beautiful collar, made especially for you with the best quality materials. The leather around it was smooth and the inside was covered with fur, soft enough so it wouldn't hurt you from wearing it all day long. On the front, small diamonds formed the initials O.K. A reminder to you, and anyone you crossed paths with at the station, of who you belonged to.

“Have you been a good girl today?” He asked, stroking your cheek with his index finger still covered by his leather glove.

“Yes, Daddy.” It was an instinctive but sincere response.

He smiled contentedly at your response and rose to his feet again, tugging gently on the leash for you to follow him, crawling behind him to the plush black couch in the centre of the large room. As usual, you waited on your knees in silence for his command as you watched him pour a drink into his glass. Then, he sank down on the sofa, letting out a deep sigh.

“Let’s do some inspection first, shall we?” He wasn't really asking you; it was the first thing he did when he saw you when the day was over. Always. Without protest, you parted your legs and Orson leaned forward, full glass in one hand as he pushed your panties aside with the other. His eyes were locked on yours when you felt his leather-covered finger play around your entrance, coating it with your fluids before slipping it inside you. You bit your lip in arousal, unable to stop your whining sounds. Your hips moved involuntarily against his hand, but you froze when he gave you that stern look of his.

He withdrew his finger moments later to examine the slippery, sticky fluid you had left on his glove. “Good girl, always soaking and ready for me, aren’t you?” He praised you before brushing his soaked finger against your lips, which you parted to welcome it into your mouth. The taste of leather and your own fluids mingled on your tongue. You moaned around it, making a lewd sound that Krennic could feel in his crotch.

"Care helping Daddy with his belt, my dear?" You knew the meaning behind those words, and you could feel yourself salivating in anticipation. You unbuckled his belt, fighting the urge to rush, but Krennic didn't like rushing, not when instead he could observe your every gesture, your every glance, your body's every reaction to his words and his touch, how your pupils dilated and your cheeks flushed with every praise and every unseemly thing he asked you to do.

You released his semi-erect member, you didn't have to wait for instructions, you knew what was demanded of you. You took his shaft in your hand and stroke it a few times, slowly, as you knew he liked it. You watched him as he took a sip from his drink. Fuck, he looked incredibly attractive like that, so imposing in his full uniform, you felt like you were meant to be there, knelt before him. You ran your tongue flat against the tip of his cock and you watched him close his eyes and sigh heavily at the warmth of your tongue. You licked his length a few more times before taking it into your mouth, caressing it with your tongue, bobbing your head as you took him further and further, feeling his cock twitch and harden in your mouth.

"That's it, slowly... just like that... good girl." He tugged on the leash the moment he felt his tip touching the back of your throat. Stay there. That’s what it meant. And you held that position, using only your tongue to bring him pleasure as you struggled not to gag. Seeing you making such efforts to please him was even more arousing for him than any other thing. The station employees obeyed him because they told to or because they feared him, you obeyed because you craved it. The depraved things you were willing to do for him, the way you looked at him with doe eyes as you tried your best to take him whole into your mouth.

How could he resist testing you some more?

You felt him move his leg underneath you, followed by an unexpected pressure between your legs that made you jolt. The tip of his boot was now brushing against your clit through the delicate fabric of your lingerie as your whines and moans were muffled by his cock deep in your mouth. The prospect of a reward for good behaviour encouraged you to hold the position despite the tears building up in your eyes and the urge to buck your hips for more friction.

The director laid back on the sofa and watched the little show while enjoying his drink, he wished he could have you like this, moaning and struggling around his cock for hours. He was aware you were focusing your mind on not cumming, you already knew he wouldn’t be pleased if you came without permission. However, he took pity on you after a few minutes, bringing a hand to your hair to run his fingers through it and gently tugged on it to release you and let your beathing come back to normal.

“My poor girl, you’re so needy, aren’t you?” You cheeks were so flushed because of the effort he found you so adorable at that moment. His gloved hand cupped your face, brushing away your tears as he spoke. “But you did such a good job, my little one. You may keep rubbing yourself against me, I’ll even let you cum whenever you’re ready...”

Your eyes filled with gratitude when you heard his words. “Oh stars, thank you, sir.” And the next thing you knew you were clinging to his leg with your forehead resting on his thigh, panting and moaning against him as you rode his boot. How humiliating would it be if someone saw you in that state? Kneeling in front of a man of his position, rubbing against his leg like a bitch in heat? The thought only made the pressure in your belly build up even faster. Noticing how close you were, Krennic moved your hair aside so he could appreciate your flushed face as you pursued an orgasm that didn't take long to come.

“There you are... cum for me babygirl, let me hear those needy cries of yours.” And that was all, you knew you couldn’t have kept yourself from cumming even if you wanted. You gripped his leg tightly as your vision blurred and you rode your orgasm, crying loudly. The lace of your underwear was so thin you could almost feel the leather directly against your mound, so you moved your hips erratically against his leg to seek more and more pleasure until you could find it no more.

You rested your clouded head on his knee to catch your breath. Krennic leaned forward to place the empty glass on the small table in front of the couch. He must have finished his drink while you were immersed in your own pleasure. When he judged you'd had enough rest, he withdrew his foot from below you and made a disapproving sound when he saw it.

“Oh look at that, little one...” You looked down at his boot to see a white, slick stain. You hadn't noticed your own fluids had leaked through your lingerie; but you were dripping wet, there was no way you could've helped it!

“I’m... I’m sorry, Daddy... I’ll be more careful next time...” That was all you managed to say, unable to look him in the eye, but the director lifted your chin to meet your eyes warmly.

“It’s alright, sweetheart, don’t you worry about that. However, what do we do when we make a mess, my dear?” You didn't reply, he never wanted you to reply, only to do what you had to do. Eager to please him once more, you brought your head to the level of his boot and stuck out your tongue to slide it slowly over it, licking and collecting your fluids. You didn't know which felt more humiliating, rubbing against his leg until cumming as you had done, or that. But you didn't care, in fact, you were already starting to feel the familiar tingle between your legs again, making you squeeze your thighs together.

When you were sure you had left no trace of your slick behind, you sat back up to wait for Krennic's reaction. He seemed genuinely pleased with your work.

“Well done, my baby. Now, come here...” He helped you off the floor onto his lap, your legs on either side of his thighs, and he tugged the leash to pull you closer to him and kiss you. His tongue in your mouth tasted like the expensive liquor he had just finished; it tasted so fucking delightful your mind felt foggy once again and you couldn’t do anything but deepen the kiss. Without parting his lips from yours, he took off his gloves and put them aside on the couch. Now his warm hands roamed your arms and back so gently, lingering on each of his favourite parts of your body. You always felt so safe in his arms you wished you could stay like that forever.

Krennic only broke the kiss to leave more kisses, on your cheeks, on your jaw, on your neck... His hands moved to your breasts to fondle them, hardening your nipples above your bra with his thumbs. As much as he was enamoured of your bare body, some of the lingerie sets you sometimes wore for him begged to stay on your body, so delicate in comparison to the way he liked to treat you at times. The contrast never failed to drive him wild. He only allowed himself to pull one of the cups aside to free your breast and take it into his mouth, making you gasp with pleasure as he licked and sucked on your now hardened nipple.

His free hand slipped between your legs to push your panties to the side once again. He teased your entrance with the tip of his now fully stiff cock before pulling you down by your hips. You were so drenched it slid all the way in with ridiculous ease, making him chuckle at the slippery sound you made.

“Poor needy thing, you’ve been waiting for this all day, haven’t you?” You could only respond with a whine, feeling too heavenly full of him, and began to rock your hips, wanting to feel his thick cock everywhere inside you. “Waiting so eager to make Daddy feel good, that’s it... good girl.” He said with one hand resting on your hip as he tugged on the leash with the other, keeping you in place, allowing you to move only your hips, letting you know that even though you were the one on top tonight, he was the one in charge. He always loved to have his property under complete control.

With your hands clutching the back of the couch, you kept moving as you knew he liked best, at a pace that was not too fast, but steady, rolling your hips every time you sank back down on him. The grunts coming from his throat sent shivers down your spine and made you clench your cunt around him, making him throb right against your sensitive spot. You felt yourself getting close again, every pull on the leash reminding you of your place, and every praise letting you know how good you were at remembering it. You only needed his permission and a hard pull on your bare nipple to send you over the edge once again. “There, let yourself go, that’s my girl...” You lost control of your body, erratically moving your hips on Krennic's cock as the pleasure consumed you, and you wanted more and more and more of it.

Your orgasm had barely faded when Krennic gripped your hips tightly with both hands to hold you in place and began to thrust upwards, fast and hard, punishing your oversensitive cunt right after you had cum. It felt rather uncomfortable and you complained with a whimper, looking into Krennic's lust-filled eyes as yours teared up. “Shh... it’s okay, my sweet girl.” He reassured you with an almost condescending tone. “Just give me another one, you can do it.”

You collapsed on top of him with your arms around his neck as he marked your flesh with his fingers, seeking his own pleasure in your sore cunt. The room filled with slippery and slapping sounds, his cock was hot and throbbing inside you, rubbing your spot so roughly the pressure in your belly began to build up again in no time. There was no way of holding it back at this point. “There it is, make Daddy proud.” He encouraged you by bringing one hand to your clit to play with it with his thumb. And it came even harder than the previous one.

All your senses abandoned you, your eyes rolled back and your vision blurred, unable to feel anything but the director's cock sending the endless waves of your climax all over your body. You were pretty sure that whole sector of the station could hear your cries, but you didn't care, and certainly Krennic couldn’t care less either. In fact, knowing that everyone could hear how good he was making you feel, that those beautiful moans and whimpers belonged to him and no one else, was enough to make him spill himself deep inside you, his own grunts and panting masked by the last remnants of your screams.

Your legs were shaking on either side of Krennic's thighs by the time you were both sated. Your head rested on his shoulder and you buried your face in his neck, never getting enough of that delicious scent of his. He wrapped his arms around your body, stroking your hair as he whispered in your ear what a good girl you had been to him, his cock still inside you.

After a few minutes, Krennic murmured in your ear. “Alright, little one, why don’t you help me get off this uniform so we can have a bath together?” Your answer was barely a whisper through your tired smile.

After that promised bath, where you washed eachother’s signs of your previous pleasure, you cuddled together, naked on the large bed, and his loving, soft kisses on your forehead were the last thing you felt before falling asleep is his warm arms.

Tagging: @starlady66 @lady-of-imladris @thesolarangel 💖 (first non RoP fic so I wasn't sure who wanted to be tagged)

#orson krennic #director krennic #orson krennic x reader #director krennic x reader #orson krennic smut #director krennic smut #orson krennic fanfic #director krennic fanfic #x reader #rogue one #star wars

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smolbeandrabbles · 3 years

Text

Grace, Too - Director Orson Krennic x Reader (Rogue One)

🎉🎉 !!Fic Number 200!! 🎉🎉

Hollllly crap we made it. We MADE it. And as he was fic number 100, 200 had to be Krennic. HAD to be.

@wltz-bby @mandy23b @happyskywhale @missunsympathetic

Author’s Note: Good god. Oh... This SONG has a lot to answer for.

So, I was introduced to these ‘Courtly Love’ ideas, and I thought they sounded like a lot of fun, so I have a few requests based around these based on conversations. This was the first one I attempted and uh, yeah we ended up with this glorious wordcount.

Also, for my dear requestor and also dear friend @sagitariusrising Happy (Belated) Birthday! 😘💜💙 I hope this fic is everything you wanted!

Grace, Too - The Tragically Hip

Disclaimer: Premise/Idea not mine - although I did make some executive decision changes that I hope you still like / Rogue One characters not mine / some small Catalyst references.

Prompt: “A true lover is constantly and without intermission possessed by the thought of his beloved”

Premise: Orson Krennic has himself an obsession. You remind him too much of someone he once knew. Orson Krennic is dangerous. This much you know, but you are not about to heed your own warnings....

Words: 17,100

Warnings: Swearing / Possessiveness/Obsession/Yearning / Smut - like Sinday/Sunday smut.

_____

He said, I'm fabulously rich C'mon, just let's go She kinda bit her lip Geez, I don't know I come from downtown Born ready for you Armed with will and determination And grace, too The secret rules of engagement Are hard to endorse When the appearance of conflict Meets the appearance of force But I can guarantee There'll be no knock on the door I'm total pro here That's what I'm here for I come from downtown Born ready for you Armed with skill and its frustration And grace, too

---

He had to admit Eadu was not his favourite planet in the galaxy. Susceptible to many a storm, Krennic had never known it not to be pouring whenever he arrived. He probably wouldn’t even have thought about travelling over at all, were his old friend Galen Erso not stationed there. True, it was an integral facility to the Death Star, but Krennic didn’t need to be here to survey operations, just receive the odd mail or two with updates. Krennic would much rather be at the heart of the weapon his was engineering; it was his project and his baby. But, he wouldn’t miss the opportunity to see Galen, and this was fairly important. He grimaced as he looked out at the rain again, hopefully this wouldn’t take too long either… *** You weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to the constant rainy patterns of weather here. No-one had ever really given you the uniform for it – having said that, how often did you really spend outside these days? A lot of your time was spent in labs pouring over facts and figures and complicated algorithms. You spent almost as much time in the labs as Galen did, which was certainly personal choice rather than because you were forced into long hours. You had two specialities: lasers and gem stones; you’d heard about the development of synthetic Kyber crystals and Galen’s work before, but you’d never beheld a real one until coming here. With the amount of effort you were putting in, you were starting to become a technical expert. (Also a little disappointed to say the least when you found out that synthetic Kyber hadn’t really worked as expected.) Still, when you and Galen weren’t working on your pet energy project – allegedly what this had been for in the first place, until the real reason for Kyber research came to the fore – you were working on the Death Star. Which was some glorified super laser, that needed Kyber to work and… well, precision focus, as any good laser should have. Kyber wasn’t only going to be used as a power source, but also to make sure that this laser had range and trajectory… and didn’t waver off that. Besides, looking at the design, although it would collectively become one laser, it started at multiple points across the span of the dish. If just one of those was wrong, would the laser even fire at all? So standing outside on the landing platform, having been summoned out here because apparently the Director of the whole project would be arriving, in the cold and wet was not your ideal start to the day. Especially as you’d been standing here for what felt like close to an hour. Where the heck was this guy? You’d heard a lot about Orson Krennic before now; not all of it was great, some of it was hearsay, but there was a lot of information you found interesting to say the least. He’d been working on this project (with or without Galen) for most of his adult life, so it didn’t surprise you that he’d be coming all the way out here for an update. You had only ever had the pleasure of being copied on emails to Krennic and the way he responded sometimes was downright scary. You were glad you’d never had to give him bad news… but with your project being what it was, it wouldn’t be long before you did have to face the wrath of his block capitals. Finally the sound of a cruiser cut through the air, by the distinctive sound it was a Delta-class T-3c. Yeah, you had a slight passion for ships too. You all stood to attention on the platform, fighting off the shivers from the wind chill, squinting for visibility through the sheet rain and trying not to get blown over either. When the door to the shuttle opened Galen stepped forward, to welcome your visitor. He was possibly around Galen’s age, and held a confidence and self-importance about him as he strode forward down the ramp. But he had grace, too. You were almost taken aback by the way Krennic smiled as he shook Galen’s hand firmly, conversation fairly urgent. You couldn’t even lip read them from here, but body language was easy to interpret and it didn’t take long for Krennic to have your boss on the back foot. But it wasn’t panic, only surprise. Galen beckoned the Director towards the facility but Krennic shook his head. This visit was clearly only to be brief; you weren’t about to have your first interaction with him after all; he wasn’t about to view your work, inspect it closely and criticize it. Maybe you were glad of that. The conversation wasn’t as fleeting as you thought, a lot of back and forth that had the rest of you shooting each other looks and wondering how much longer you had to stand to attention in the freezing weather. Eventually Galen gestured to all of you – you supposed he was saying ‘if you can’t come in, or stay very long, at least meet my team.’ Krennic seemed to consider this for a time, his eyes sweeping the line and freezing on you. Your breath caught for a moment – maybe it was just your imagination, but his gaze was certainly lingering on you, and those bright blue eyes of his were nothing short of captivating. You didn’t think you’d seen a blue like it anywhere in the galaxy. It felt like hours but it could only have been seconds before he turned back to Galen, they exchanged a few words briefly once more before Galen nodded and they shook hands again. Oh, he really was just going to leave? The Director walked brisky back towards his shuttle before turning and calling back something else that he’d clearly forgotten. Galen yelled something in response and Krennic half smiled, before his eyes flicked over Galen’s shoulder and returned to you. Yes. You were right, he was certainly focused on you. There was a rumble of thunder overhead and the lightning cracked across the sky. You had never minded the lightning; you found the colours and patterns fascinating. But those blue eyes were immediately illumined by the bright white flashes and you found yourself swallowing hard, you couldn’t place the look on his face but you weren’t sure it was so appropriate. That image was sure to haunt you. Krennic turned back, slower this time, and you found that you’d been holding your breath for quite some time.

Suddenly you didn’t think that you would mind receiving an email in block capitals from him at all. *** Galen was probably the least subtle he could possibly be when he was trying to be subtle. He’d been tiptoeing around something with you for a couple of days and it really was starting to annoy you. You slammed your stylus down on the table with a frustrated sigh and turned to him. “Galen, please, whatever it is… just tell me. You’re making me nervous!” He blinked a few times, taken aback by your tone – as if he hadn’t been making it very obvious. “I- I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.” You laughed, “Now I certainly will! What’s going on?” “…It’s not my idea, but it is my decision.” “What is?” You suddenly became scared yourself, “Are you firing me-!?” Galen’s eyes widened and he held his hands up, “What? NO, no… quite the opposite. I am…” He paused and thought to rephrase his question, “They need a crystallographer on the Death Star. A good one. Someone who can keep up with the team here. One who knows what she’s talking about.” You blinked a few times, before you understood, “You’re… sending me to the Death Star?” “Yes. B- but only if you want to go!” Wouldn’t that place you directly under Krennic’s authority? Why was it suddenly an exciting prospect? “I would be honoured. This is- your decision?” “They asked me for recommendations and there was only ever one choice.” That had you beaming, “Thank you for the opportunity, Galen.” “Well, I know you won’t let the facility down. And you’re always welcome back.” You chewed your lip thoughtfully for a second, and couldn’t help but ask: “What is he really like?” “Who?” “The Director.” Galen didn’t really answer the question, although a smile twitched on his face, “We met in the Futures Program. I’ve known him a very long time… I can’t say he’s ever changed.” “So he’s an adult teenage boy?” Maybe that was the wrong thing to say, but Galen laughed. “Well, he has qualities that you’d be forgiven for thinking he was one.” “Huh.” You nodded, “I’ll keep that in mind.” “But he is brilliant, of that there is no doubt. The Death Star project may have been going a long time, but I doubt anyone else could have completed it the way he has. Sharp. Intelligent. You’ll like him, I think.” You wondered if you already did. “Well, we’ll see if I’m begging to come back any time soon-!” He chuckled gently, “Well, I certainly hope not.” It didn’t take you very long to pack up, you were practically living out of boxes as it was. And you weren’t sure if you were nervous about having to move or not. You supposed you were in two minds; you’d actually get to see and be on the Death Star while you worked – sure the plans were one thing but, once you got a feel for the actual structure, maybe you could even be a little more experimental… The advantage of being on Eadu was you could hide away in a lab and make the 10,000 mistakes to get to the one (usually accidental) breakthrough. You were the only one judging yourself here, it was quiet; out there, and under Krennic, all eyes would be on what you were doing. You’d maybe be given the leeway of 2 or 3 mistakes but none more than that. And everything would be urgent. Needed yesterday! It was a good thing that you could work under pressure. Leaving was hard, and as you hugged Galen goodbye you couldn’t help but feel a pain in your heart: “I wish it didn’t mean leaving.” “You deserve it.” “Maybe. I hope I get to come back, eventually.” “We’ll certainly welcome you with open arms!” “Take care of yourself, Galen.” “And you – if he gives you any trouble, come straight to me.” You nearly grimaced, “Noted, but I really hope it doesn’t come to that!” *** The cruiser that picked you up wasn’t his, and you were glad the journey wasn’t as long as you expected, so you didn’t have too much time to overthink what was happening to you. In fact as the Death Star loomed into view your mouth was agape – you weren’t sure you expected the sheer size of it: easy to look at some numbers on a datapad but, when it was in front of you, you thought you might have bitten off a little more than you could chew. You were equally pleased and disappointed that Krennic was neither there to pick you up or greet you on the station – mostly because you didn’t seem to be able to find any appropriate words to say. The bustle of engineers, technicians and general command staff told you you were a million miles from your lab on Eadu, and you found yourself unable to communicate in anything other than one word awe filled sentences. Thankfully the Officer who greeted you seemed to understand, and as she walked you to your lab (everyone was obviously eager for you to start!) she chuckled warmly, “Don’t worry, I was exactly the same when I arrived here. It’s a lot. You’ll get used to it – and from what I understand you’ll be a very welcome addition to our team.” “Thanks,” You swallowed hard, “yes, I understand there’s an expectation on me here.” “Well, the Director only wants the best of the best.” She keyed you into the lab and then handed you your pass, “If you’re here it’s because you are the best. And he wants you.” You tried hard not to think about that in any way other than for your work, but it was hard. Ever since that look he’d given you as he left, those vivid blue eyes filled your dreams – including those that you’d rather Krennic kept out of. As she continued talking, she snapped you back to reality: “Anyway, I will leave you to get settled in here, all your things will be sent to your quarters. I’ll have someone sent up with all the details and your datapad.” She grinned at the door before she turned to head out, “Welcome to the Death Star!” *** You spent your time unpacking all your laboratory kit - some of this work you’d only trust to go right with your own gear that much was certain - before you started examining the lab closely. Everything was, as expected, state of the art, they had every machine it was possible to get in order to aid you on your quest to get these vectors just right. If the work wasn’t quite so serious this was almost a wonderland for you. As you continued to stare around the lab, making mental notes of exactly which you would need and would be the most useful for your work, the lab doors slid open again to another visitor. You turned to explain yourself away as the new girl but immediately froze. Standing opposite you, also seemingly glued to the spot and an unreadable look on his face, was none other than Director Krennic. You weren’t sure you expected to see him so soon, and you were still thoroughly unprepared for it. He recovered better than you. “I was told my new hire had arrived. You-” He paused for a minute, head tipped, before a small smile appeared on his face, “You’re from the Eadu facility!” After all, Krennic hadn’t asked only Galen for help in recruiting – you just had the best credentials. But he certainly recognised you from that platform. “Yes, Sir, Galen sent me – he said you were looking for a good crystallographer.” “Yes. And you’re here, welcome. It’s good to finally meet you in person.” “The honour is mine, Director, I look forward to working with you.” You swallowed hard, “Believe me, it is me that is honoured… uhm?” “Oh, Y/N, Sir.” Then you blushed forgetting yourself, “Ah! Officer L/N!” That smile became a gentle smirk, “Would it be so awful for me to refer to you by your first name?” “…I’m sorry, I… It’s how we do things on Eadu, I… realise that I am not there anymore Sir, forgive me.” You could feel yourself getting hotter. “You need not be forgiven, Y/N. I’m happy to do things your way.” Krennic placed a datapad on the table in front of him, “It’s all set up correctly, I made sure of that myself. I have to make sure my researcher is well equipped on the first day of her job, after all.” On top of it he lay another access card, “You’ll need that for your room, your ID will allow you access to almost as many files as me, I figured you’ll need them.” Krennic’s blue eyes fell back on you, “Anything you can’t access you come directly to me, and anything else you need, the same. I will make sure it reaches you promptly.” “Yes, Sir.” You nodded through his explanation, “Thank you.” Krennic nodded back, looking around the room, “Tell me, how do you like the lab?” “It’s certainly state of the art. There’s probably not another one like it across the galaxy. There’s a lot I would like to explore with these devices once I’m finished with my work for the Battle Station. Time permitting.” Krennic shrugged, “Do what you will with the time that you have free. I expect you’ll work hard.” “Yes, Sir.” “Good.” He winked stepping back from you, “I will leave you to get settled, and may I welcome you to the Death Star! I’m very excited to see what you can do for us!” And by that smirk on his face, yes, you could bet… Krennic hurried back to his office cursing himself. Yes, he wanted the best – and he had absolutely no doubt that he would get it with you. He’d read every CV in great detail; obviously he’d paid more attention to those from Galen, considering the weaponry was coming from that lab, but Galen had neglected to mention that you were with him on Eadu in his note for you. You were Galen’s first choice, and Orson Krennic was not about to go against his friend’s advice. It was just your look. Not just physically, but that look on your face – he couldn’t shake it. Now he could bet that your personality would be similar just to curse him… He didn’t fall in love often, not hard. Orson could fall in and out of ‘love’ with people very quickly – always liked to keep a string of bed mates, if he didn’t fall in love, and didn’t necessarily care, then he wouldn’t get hurt. And he hardly needed to put in much effort, a little bit of flirting and an expensive drink was all he usually needed. Besides, now Krennic had this rank bar and a reputation, so he probably needed even less: sometimes people were trying to pick him up – he couldn’t say he wasn’t flattered. On the occasions he did though – it usually had the proficiency to mess him up. You reminded him very much of a girl he’d known in the Futures Program – back when he was young and reckless. Okay, Krennic could back track on that sentence, young. That, first love, fast heartbeat, can’t stop staring, ‘only thing in the world that matters’ kind of feeling. The kind of love that at that age would make him naïvely think it’d be forever – where their ambitions would meld together and everything would just work out. Even if they had no idea how. Krennic would stand by it as a real love, a feeling he had chased since he lost her. He’d fallen that hard again since – sure – but never in the same way. Orson didn’t think you could ever get a ‘first love’ feeling back. And he certainly didn’t want to ever feel like he did when it ended again. But you, and your face, and your body, and that look you gave him – all Krennic could see in you was her. Turning to his datapad for a second he had half a mind to see who your parents were, then stopped short of himself. ‘Don’t be stupid, Orson, she’s too old for that!’ – even if marginally. It made him curious about you though, what if your personality was the same? What if all of these factors culminated in him… feeling like that about you. He almost cursed at himself. ‘Don’t be stupid, she works for you, and you’ll shake it. It’s just the shock, it’s two or three glimpses of her face – you’ll be able to pick out all the differences in no time. Then you won’t think about what you loved and lost… or yearn for it back.’ Krennic scoffed at the very idea of him yearning, but brought you up on his datapad anyway. A smirk started to spread its way across his face as he lingered on your photograph. Well, he certainly wasn’t averse to one of you getting messed up in the process of this partnership…

***

Krennic was right, one of you was going to get messed up by this; and it seemed more obvious now that person was going to be him. He wanted your personality to be different to hers, then he could form some distinction - and for the most part you had differences, you were your own woman. The problem was Krennic let himself get obsessed over the similarities, those small details that wouldn’t have mattered to anyone else. And if he was honest those parts of you that were nothing like her just messed him up even more, because he liked those too. He liked you for you. It worried him.

You busied yourself with your work and tried to keep out of everyone’s way. You very much hoped it might be ‘out of sight out of mind’; but knew with the importance of the project you wouldn’t have that luxury. That had you experimenting until the early hours of the morning sometimes - and you always sent Krennic an update email last thing before you went to bed. Just so he never had to come looking himself: you’d heard all about him, but now you were here you’d witnessed it yourself. And Krennic screaming at people in corridors was not something you were that ready for. You did not want that wrath coming down on you, so you tried to keep one step ahead of the man that knew this station inside and out. What amazed you was, as you placed your datapad down for the evening and settled into your sheets, more often than not you’d receive a ‘ping’ to let you know of incoming mail. You’d ignored it for a while but - being too curious - investigated, only to find Krennic had sent you a thank you note. ‘What the heck is he still up working for!?’ Well, this became a regular occurrence, and tonight was no different - only now you waited to see if he’d reply and you smiled as it came in. ‘Why can’t everyone do this? Do you know how well this Station would run!? Thank you. As ever. - K.’ You hovered over the reply button, as you had nearly all week. Every single time the knot in your stomach made you panic and you bailed out. Not tonight. ‘You are welcome, Director. Just doing my job. It’s getting late, you should probably get some rest.’ As he had, you signed off with your initial. It took him all of 5 seconds to reply, ‘I could say the same. Goodnight, Y/N. – K.’ ‘Goodnight, Director. Sleep well.’ You grimaced as the message flew off to the other side of the Death Star, was that a step too far? Oh well. Couldn’t take it back now!

Eventually your reports got shorter, not for lack of trying, but progress was slow. And you always tried to make ‘nothing really happened today’ last for as many pages as possible. But you realised quickly that Director Krennic was smart enough to read between the lines; he never asked for more than you gave him, but as he started asking you for progress updates, rather than waiting until you sent them, you knew he wasn’t far off the point where you might start receiving those dreaded block capital emails.

It wasn’t like what you’d done up until now wasn’t hard; it was. It was just now you were at a snagging point and you really didn’t want to have to redo what you’d already done to get past it. It also wasn’t something you could easily bypass. And you couldn’t ignore it. If you got this wrong that laser didn’t work - and it’d all come back on you. This calculation was going to take time you didn’t have - NOBODY had - and the pressure was starting to get you frustrated.

You didn’t actually receive a block capital email, but an impromptu visit to your lab. And the colour must have immediately drained from your face - to counteract the way your heart decided to beat like a kick drum - because Krennic raised his hands in almost apology. “Thought it might be quicker to ask you rather than you to write up a report.” “Well you already know it’s not going well.” “I know woolly language when I see it. You don’t need to use filler with me. If you’re stuck just say so.” “Forgive me, Sir, but I don’t exactly want to get yelled at, and there’s a lot at stake here.” You cursed yourself internally for being so comfortable with talking to him like this. But decided that it might be best to speak your mind. “Why would I yell at you?” You gave him a pointed look that Krennic understood, but he didn’t think you quite understood the question. Why would he yell at you? Instead he cleared his throat, “I understand… Why don’t you, walk me through it?” “Can you help?” It wasn’t meant to come out so disbelieving, and you thought you’d put your foot in it about 10 times during this conversation already - but Krennic just shrugged. “I’ll see if I can assist. Maybe I’ll have a perspective you’re not thinking of.” You took a breath, “Okay...” “Okay.” He gave a firm nod, and sat at one of the lab tables, “What exactly are you trying to achieve that you cannot?” You took a deep breath, “Think of holding a laser pointer,” you collected one, and as a demonstration you pointed it at the blank wall and clicked it on; “Even with a steady hand, or two hands, there’s movement.” The dot wasn’t wiggling much but Krennic nodded along, “Well, this station is just a massive destructive laser pointer, with 8 different lasers all coming together… so in fact there’s 9 laser pointers in total. Even a millimetre out can be the difference between this laser working, or catching on something we don’t want it to and blowing up Imperial Forces, or - god forbid - the entire station…!” You walked over to a little holder you’d rigged up, placing the pen upon it and stepping back: “Crudely speaking when focusing a laser through Kyber it should keep the laser's trajectory steady with pinpoint accuracy, whilst also maintaining the power and range of the laser. It’s a multipoint system, if even one of those points is off, the whole thing fails. And what better to take the power of a laser created by Kyber than…” “Kyber.” You smiled enthusiastically, “Exactly!” Krennic looked back at the dot on the wall, “So what’s your snag?” You turned the datapad to face him, “This.” He raised an eyebrow immediately, “That’s… a lot of numbers.” “Yes. And every time I calculate it, it’s an error. And it needs to balance because it’s got to work between-” “Nine lasers.” You said in unison. “Correct.” You smiled, liking that he was getting it. “I don’t expect Kyber not to be able to take the force, it’s the making sure we’re hitting it all just right. To check how much the crystals might refract the energy. To make sure there’s not a power surge… I just can’t get the power balance right to get the trajectory… not to do something ridiculously wild.” “Or make the whole station virtually useless.” “Yes. And the thing is that the number is nearly always the same. You know, like… I’m point-5 out, and yet I can’t figure out where that is coming from. Freakin’ crystals, and Kyber is notoriously the worst!” You placed your hands on your hips, “I’ll get it. I just need time.” He nodded, “You have time believe me.” Krennic stood, “I believe I should leave you to it.” “But the completion of the-” “Let me worry about that. You worry about getting my vectors right. You have time.” That he could promise you. Krennic didn’t want you to panic, he thought that would throw this project into even more disarray. He needed you with a level head and at your best mindset. He thought he knew how to do just that. You flushed, “Thank you, Director.” “Don’t mention it, Y/N.” He paused as he got to the door, turning back to you those blue eyes caught yours and you nearly jumped at the dark flicker across them. “I look forward to reading your report, tonight.” The way his voice lowered like that, how that smooth tone he usually kept laced with a growl had you struggling to breathe as he left, and you had to undo your uniform and catch your breath. ‘Geez, what was that!?’ Did you have a thing for your senior commander? A real thing!? Sure those damn eyes were always haunting your dreams, and he was nearly always your daily closing thought (but he put himself there, didn’t he!) but… this was more than that, this was a physical reaction - and you were sure he was eliciting an emotional one from you, too. “God dammit, Y/N,” you breathed, looking back to the door and wishing he’d come walking back through it, “could you have a worse idea-!?” *** He had to be honest he wasn’t sure why he had no semblance of control around you; it should have been easy to control. Krennic spent his life trying to control his emotions… okay, maybe not very well but he did. You had him smiling all over the place. He far outstayed his welcome in the lab whenever he found reason to go down there; and Krennic certainly found plenty of reason. Usually if he visited anyone at their work station he was either none too pleased with them, or he wanted their report - and quickly! - before he swept himself off to another meeting or urgent matter around the station. He liked the sound of your voice explaining things to him; and how every question he asked was met with not just an answer, but a good answer. Instead of a string of ‘I don’t know, sir’s. Nothing Krennic asked of you ever seemed like trouble either; then again he supposed you wouldn’t really want to refuse the Director of the Death Star what he wanted. It was obvious you wanted to remain here, and you were trying to do your very best to figure out all these algorithms alone.

Krennic sent you an assistant and even got you on calls with people in similar fields. The assistant stayed with you a little, until it got a little too complicated even for them and you dismissed them with thanks - you’d got a step closer, that’s all you could ask for. Eventually though, you had to reach out to Galen - and Krennic wanted to sit in on these calls. You wondered if it was because he thought the two of you would spend the majority of it dragging him - you rather thought you might be giving him a string of compliments with half the chance to do so. And the three of you started to break your work down to basics. Krennic’s new perspective aided more than you really wanted to admit to him, but he had this attitude that made you think he wanted to be useful here - and it made you more than a little suspicious. Maybe he really was spying on you both…

Krennic wasn’t sure if he wasn’t forcing the relationship to grow beyond appropriate parameters, all discussions did still revolve around work after all, but was happy that you were forthcoming. Spending more time with you meant he could analyse you more - and whilst you still very much reminded him of his ex-lover, you were becoming your own person. The person who filled his thoughts. You were almost his every waking moment. When in your lab together, even when Krennic was listening to every word, he was watching your body - the way you moved was fluid as you eagerly explained something and demonstrated. But meticulous and calculating when you were working on a screen - absolutely none of your energy was wasted that could have been used to think on the problem. And yet even every small movement you made was significant. Usually to cross through or correct a calculation. Change your vector arrows around a little. Krennic liked watching you do this too, because when it was all correct you gave this small satisfied smile, and even though it was to yourself, it was very endearing - it was one thing he always looked forward to seeing.

Tonight, as ever, Krennic was agonising over waiting for your report. No matter how exhausted he might be when he finally retired to his quarters for the evening, he always knew your end of day email would come through and Krennic forced himself to stay awake for it. Mostly so he could read too much into the string of ‘flirty’ emails that followed it, but he couldn’t have been the only one who read that energy. After all, sometimes he gratuitously flirted back, and you still kept responding. As soon as he heard that ping he rushed across the room to read it. You reporting was always concise even though you managed not to leave a single detail out - and now he knew more about your work, it was easier to understand and for him to scan through. Krennic would be more thorough tomorrow. ‘Thorough as ever, Ms. L/N. – K.’ ‘I like to make sure you don’t need to ask questions.’ ‘Where’s the fun in that? – K.’ ‘It helps me sleep better.’ ‘Me not ask questions about your reporting? – K.’ ‘Goodnight Director. Please get some sleep!’ He remembered the first time that he’d read that goodnight from you, how he’d stared at those words for a long time - heart stilled. It didn’t help him sleep at all, far from it. In fact nothing about you seemed to help anything - except Krennic thinking on you.

You were impressive - dare he say that you had more skill in your particular area than maybe even Galen did. That, added to the weight of his constant Futures Program reminder, kept you at the forefront of his mind constantly. Krennic found it very hard to concentrate on his own work; and his thoughts wandered, particularly in meetings he found to be less than stimulating. He’d poured over your CV and your previous published research time and again. Read all your imperial records and anything Intelligence could get hold of on you. Krennic knew almost everything there was to know, and yet he wanted to hear it all from you. And you seemed less than forthcoming with information that was personal. That almost worried him - maybe you weren’t looking for anything other than a professional relationship with him. Krennic wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to keep it that way; eventually he’d have to make some kind of move - he couldn’t let you go without you knowing. He wasn’t about to let you be the (other) one that got away. Not both of you. Time ticked on this evening, and he lay in his sheets wide awake. Work was making him drowsy; and he’d been up and down trying to work himself to sleep, but every time he put his datapad down and switched off the lights he was alert again. Krennic glanced at the clock and groaned, watching the minutes race towards his alarm. Unsurprisingly it was thoughts of you that were keeping him awake. Usually you were on his mind at night; you were certainly the last one before he turned the light off, but usually he could drift to sleep perfectly fine. Not tonight. Krennic placed his hands palm down on his stomach, inhaling and exhaling slowly: wasn’t that how you did it? Deep, slow, calming breaths. That evidently made things worse, and his breathing patterns this time brought with them fairly vivid images that occasionally he’d seen in dreams. Certainly none of them were very professional - and all of them were about you. ‘Stars-! Orson, stop it!’ But he couldn’t, and his mind wanted to play tricks on him, trying to make him imagine what it would feel like to touch your bare skin, to hear you moan quietly, the way you might say his name in elation. He growled to himself as heat gathered a little lower than his hands were. He moved them, breaths already short and sharp and not at all where he’d intended to be at… “This is a bad idea.” Orson groaned softly and bit his lip, squeezing his eyes shut bringing all those images back; did he really have any better ones? *** It wasn’t a lie to state you were getting closer. At least to the point where Krennic started to make jokes in meetings that were clearly meant for you only. And when you looked up to him unsure if it was appropriate to laugh and he’d almost dare you to, you knew they certainly were. He’d always ask for a score out of 10 in his emails to you now. And it was refreshing for you to find a similar relationship to the one you had with Galen here… well, maybe you shouldn’t have been surprised. They were good friends after all, and there had to be a reason for that. Krennic also made a habit of being wherever you were. And you weren’t sure that was so endearing. You understood why he would want to be around your lab - maybe not as often as he was, but then… perhaps you knew the reason for that too, you just didn’t want to hope on it - but not why he’d turn up in corridors he had no business being in. Or would end up in the cafeteria at the exact moment you walked in. He even ended up in staff briefings he’d specifically asked someone else to take either so he could sit or stand near you. You couldn’t help but find some of this behaviour odd: was Krennic stalking you? Was he looking out for you? Was he protecting you? You couldn’t imagine it was just coincidence - and part of you hoped it wasn’t. You just couldn’t really tell his intentions. That’s what scared you the most.

By now you’d heard the coffee room chat about Krennic - seemed he had a bit of a lady’s man reputation. Pretty smooth at getting you into bed, but would love you and leave you just as fast, and on-to-the-next-one. Were you simply the next one? Because as much as by now you wanted to be, you certainly didn’t want to be one on a list… love you was okay… but leave you? You weren’t the type of woman who would put yourself in that position. For him would you?

It made you a little more cautious around him, and suddenly that made your relationship slip. Because you didn’t know if you should be flirting with him or joking with him as much as you were. This pull back from you didn’t faze Krennic too much, just made him try a little harder. For you it then became obvious what he wanted. And you had to do your damndest to control yourself. You both did.

You were using every ounce of your Imperial training to try to ignore your feelings, to make sure your face stayed level and revealed nothing. You always tried to keep your eyes on his face; instead of the wandering they wanted to do - even when he wasn’t directly talking to you. That didn’t mean that when he was walking away from you, or simply keeping busy in your lab, you weren’t discreetly checking him out. You had to wonder what he looked like out of that uniform, considering he looked so gorgeous in it. You were inexplicably drawn to him, but you weren’t sure if it was his power you were attracted to: the rank bar on that uniform told everyone exactly who was boss and he walked like he owned every corridor in this place. He didn’t even need to exert his influence in meetings, everyone knew he was the most important man in the room. When Krennic had something to say everyone listened, even when he said it quietly. You’d never known someone to command that kind of attention, and considering that reputation you were not the only officer - of any gender - who fawned over him. You were just the best at hiding it. That charisma he exuded really was something to behold; he was just far too confident. Maybe a little conceited in it too, but you were sure you’d be powerless to it. The Director probably had the ability to walk up to you and say “Come to bed with me” and you’d go on that alone, you knew if he was so inclined, he could just say it like that. It was probably in your favour that Krennic liked to be a little more suave. Krennic seemed like one for class and grace. Or was it that you really were attracted to him, that you had some kind of undeniable chemistry. That you would almost count him a friend. That you just liked being in Krennic’s aura and talking to him about work… you’d even started to open up to him about personal stuff, where you’d grown up, your family… how exactly you’d ended up a crystallographer who was working here on laser vectors. And most importantly how much you loved storms, planetary or solar - this seemed like something you had to let him know. Just a silly little fact, perhaps, but to you it really meant something. It was little moments like that, when he laughed at your stories, that you thought this really might be mutual attraction, rather than someone Krennic just wanted to get in bed.

Yet, you had an effect on him also and he tried to hide it as well as you did. You caught it, only because you knew the look of someone trying to contain themselves. You saw it in the mirror or polished surfaces of this battle station all the time. Krennic quite often clenched his jaw around you, he had this habit of staring at you like he was staring through you; and sometimes he would just stare forward if you were next to him. That almost annoyed you, because you wanted to be able to look into those crystal blue orbs just once... But if Krennic was watching you, then it was an altogether different story, and if he ever caught you catching him, that look in his eyes didn’t disappear; it was hungry, and although it stirred something within you that you had to fight even harder to control, it scared you a little too - and in the back of your mind it lit a spark that became a raging fire. And you had to know, would he act on that look too? You made a vow, before you’d finished your work, before you’d left this battle station - you would find out.

Today hadn’t been so bad by all accounts; the test you’d set up you would have to leave overnight, so you got out of the lab on time. Maybe you’d even get an early night tonight. Maybe you’d persuade the Director to one of his own with your report email; you thought he probably needed it. A frown pulled its way across your face as you arrived at your quarters with the door open, and you poked your head around it, gasping to find other officers moving things around, and carrying what appeared to be boxes of your stuff. You hadn’t authorised this! “What’s going on!?!” You blurted, a little angrier than you’d meant, “What are you doing!?” Then you froze for a second; had you read something wrong? You knew something was up with him… but maybe you were supposed to have acted on it by now? Maybe your work was taking too long - was he pissed at you? Did Krennic want you off the station!? You looked to the most senior officer, “Am I being thrown off the project?!” “No.” At least you could breathe then, “We’re simply moving your quarters.” “Moving my quarters?” You couldn’t help but be confused: had you missed that email? It seemed a little too important to just be sprung upon you. “On whose orders!? I haven’t signed off on this!” “Director Krennic’s.” That shut you up almost immediately. ‘Oh well shit, what’s he moving me for!?’ You swallowed hard, not even caring if it was visible. “Well, in that case you better show me where I’m moving to…”

Once you got there - and they assured you that your key card would still work - you realised that you hadn’t just moved to any old room. Krennic had moved you to a commander's quarters, and it was plush to say the least. You had so much more room in here. The bay window stretched at least half the room and you couldn’t help your small smile; ‘he remembered’. Your little stories of staying up huddled in a window frame to watch storms in nearby, or passing, solar systems and planets. You shook your head slowly to yourself and picked up your datapad again, figuring out where exactly you were on the ship - further from the labs, which was a minor inconvenience. It seemed that at least there was an elevator close by that you could use to get to the right floor and then it’d be a straight walk. What interested you though was, looking at the schematic, you appeared to be just two corridors away from Krennic’s own room. That was not coincidence. “Son of a-” suddenly you found yourself laughing. Why? So he could walk past your room every day? So he had you closer? And looking at the rooms around, probably as close as he could get: you were surrounded by his senior command team.

You moved through the room, and started to notice little details that he’d had placed here; books by your favourite authors, or researchers… your favourite music. Maybe you’d told him far too much about yourself. But it was the fact he retained the information that had you impressed. He’d even left you a box, tied with ribbon in your bathroom, and when you pulled at it you found it was filled with very expensive toiletries, that you knew he wouldn’t have been able to come by easily, in all your favourite scents. Nothing is coincidence at all… is it Krennic? Was he trying to woo you - was this all part of a game plan; you could only conclude yes. And by the way your heart was currently beating in your chest, you had to say it was working.

Moving back into the main room and sitting back on the bed with your datapad, ready to send your report for the evening, you’d failed to notice the letter lying on top of your sheets. You pulled your finger across the top of the envelope and unfolded the card carefully: ‘Dear Y/N, Welcome to your new quarters. I believe someone of your talent is worthy of somewhere a little nicer. You will find me just down the hall if you need anything, and please do not hesitate. I hope you enjoy your stay here. And, should there be a storm, that you enjoy the view. Director Orson C. Krennic Head - Imperial Weapons Division’ The card also seemed to be scented, which you had to raise an eyebrow at; ‘who uses scented note cards?! What’s that all about!?’ You put it down to having more money than sense and placed the card on your bedside table, before getting back to what was really important.

As expected, even when it was a little earlier in the evening, Orson Krennic responded to your email almost immediately. ‘Earlier than usual? You really are efficient, Y/N. – K.’ ‘Thought I would get an early night in Director… in my new quarters. You should to.’ - You weren’t meant to imply together, but you also didn’t care if that’s how he read it. ‘Any thoughts? – K.’ ‘They are very nice, thank you. Although in future a little more notification would help!’ ‘Noted. And as you are closer, you can deliver your reports in person now – K.’ You raised an eyebrow, why would that make any sense? ‘When I can send it over email?’ Why... would you? Even when closer the time it’d take you to walk to his quarters, give him the document and walk back, would still be far longer than an email. ‘Consider it. – K.’ ‘I will!’ You weren’t sure you would, but that was what he wanted to hear. And of course you’d play to that whim. ‘Good. Goodnight, Y/N – K.’ ‘Goodnight Orson.’ You stared at the email after you’d sent it and almost screamed. What were you doing-!?! Why were you addressing a senior officer by his first name!? What was he bringing you to? You placed your head in your hands and took a deep breath. ‘Okay, it’s one slip and you can say you were tired and apologise profusely later…’

You threw your tablet on your table too and snuggled back under your new plush sheets. The bed was cozy and soft and suddenly you couldn’t be happier that Krennic had arranged for this. You closed your eyes; it was this time of the evening you liked to try and ground yourself. It was clear that both of you wanted each other to some degree, but you were the one that had to be sure about this and the most careful. You had more to lose here; Krennic had the ability to kick you off the project, not just out of his bed… if you ever got in it. But by now you were pretty sure you would end up in it. It was more a matter of when. He was powerful, you’d covered that. But Krennic was also dangerous, that much was also obvious… dangerous in terrible and delicious ways. So perhaps, as well as everything else, you were drawn to that danger. You wondered suddenly which side of him would show up more when it was just the two of you alone… in conditions more intimate. Would that power completely consume you; did you have any chance at all? You weren’t sure you wanted any at just the opportunity to be pinned under his body. To run your hands over his skin. To answer all the questions you had, and see if all those water cooler rumours were true… (You hoped to God some of them were.)

You were close to drifting off when your eyes suddenly snapped open. Krennic was your favourite pre-sleep thought, and your subconscious tonight brought you a revelation. That note card was not scented. You scrambled around for it and held it close to your face, inhaling. That was what Krennic smelled like - you should know because you’d always thought he smelt pretty good, it was a fairly subtle scent when on his skin - here it was a little stronger, which is why it had taken you so long to pick up on it.

That damn man had sprayed his note to you with his cologne. *** You decided that Krennic knew far too much about you. On the morning after your move you opened your door to head back to the labs, so you could check on the results of your testing, and Krennic was two steps from your door. You were startled by his sudden presence but he offered nothing but a small smile and a casual, “Right on time, Ms. L/N.” “Uh- I- Director.” You wouldn’t exactly say you greeted him as he felt in step with your walk towards the elevator. “How do you think your testing went?” “Well…” You took a deep breath, instantly regretting it as that cologne seemed to surround you completely. Now your senses were looking for it. Your stomach knotted and you felt the immediate urge to press your thighs together and groan. Dammit. “Well?” Krennic pressed, eying you when you didn’t answer. You hoped your face wasn’t flushing even though you felt hot. “It’s a make or break test. I certainly hope it’s worked.” You could hear that strained edge to your voice, you knew for certain Krennic would have picked up on it. As you turned into the elevator you immediately reached for your button, the Director was two steps ahead of you and your hands brushed. You withdrew yours immediately, and knew you must have been red by now. “S-Sorry.” “No, my apologies, I just wanted to help.” You stared at the floor of the elevator for a good few minutes, holding your fingertips in your other hand. Why did it tingle like that? You didn’t actually ever think you’d physically touched him before, had you? Even when you’d been so close previously in the lab. But it’s not even like it was his skin. In fact, for someone with such a reputation, Krennic had very little skin on display at all. Did he ever not wear gloves? Not that you could recall. ‘Stop-! Y/N! You sound so repressed! You’ve seen naked men before.’ Your eyes flicked back to Krennic, staring at the ceiling, and you swallowed hard. Sure, but you hadn’t seen him naked. The rest of the ride was conducted in silence, because you didn’t trust yourself not to blurt out anything you shouldn’t, but as you left Krennic took a step to stop the doors from closing. “What, not even a goodbye?” You paused in the corridor and turned back to him, unable to stop yourself from smiling that he actually wanted that from you. “Goodbye Director, have a good day.” “Not likely, but work permitting. Good day, Y/N.” and as the doors slid closed on him you caught his wink, and could swear he was smirking.

You stood outside your little lab for a long time before you entered. You admitted to yourself you were delaying the inevitable but you needed to. After all, if this was a complete failure then you might as well throw out almost a years’ worth of work. Well, maybe that was a bit dramatic, but at least all the months you’d been up here on the battle station. You’d need a good stiff drink and to cry in bed for a couple of days at the very least. Oh, and you’d probably be fired, reputation in ruins… You keyed yourself in and flicked on the lights. What you had done was rigged up a few small versions of the Death Star and set each of them to different vectors. The pieces of Kyber you were using were tiny, but they would still work in principle with your laser pens.

You stared at the points on the wall in turn. One had disappeared completely, which was all but useless to you. It didn’t mean that the calculation wasn’t steady: it could have just meant that the trajectory was way off. Either way, you could discount that as a failure. And the next one; giving a similar waver to when you’d shown Krennic what ‘steady hands’ really meant. Although minimal, you’d already explained why you couldn’t stand for it. That left the last two. And the results looked fairly similar even though your vectors were different for both. You had to call the result unexpected: perhaps there were two ways to do this. You looked back to your little models and then to the points, waving your hand in front of the lasers. And then you smiled, and that small smile became a grin, became a laugh of triumph. Although both were near perfect, the third one had a far stronger beam of light. There was your power. The second most important part of the project. The station had to do what it was built for when the laser reached its target, after all. “We have a winner.” You whispered to yourself walking back to your table. Now you had to report these findings and scale them up to full size. Working in other contingency factors - after all that laser would not be travelling through clean air in a lab and hitting a solid smooth wall. That would be fun. Still, you couldn’t wait on his report to tell him the good news. ‘Report spoilers: It works!’ There was a long pause between emails, and you could picture Krennic sitting at his desk, relief flooding him, smug little smirk on his face that this was finally going to get done - the finish line seemed in sight now. You hoped you’d made his day. When the email came back you couldn’t help but read into it a little more than you probably should have, and yet you also thought he wanted you to: ‘This sounds like a cause for celebration... – K.’

You did not in fact bring the report to him by hand, and neither did he ask it of you, but from that day forward you were called into his office daily briefings. And suddenly you got to realise just what your research meant to the people working on this station, because the first day you walked in, expecting to see just him, the room was full of his top engineers and each and every single one of them was applauding you. “Now the real work begins.” Krennic was leaning against his desk, arms folded, with eyes only for you. “Welcome, Y/N, to the team that will build your concept. From physical engineering to coding. I will assist in overseeing you, but the team are now at your disposal. From now, until test day.” Your eyes couldn’t help but light up, even though you knew you should have probably been professional about this. “Thank you, Director.” You beamed, “I look forward to working with all of you. Let's make this vision a reality, for the Empire!”

Suddenly this was better than anything you’d had with Krennic before - you almost had non-stop contact with him, from walking out of your door in the morning, to retiring for the evening. And you were happy to find that he provided both the perfect intellectual and humorous stimulant. You also noted how many crew members now looked at you with nothing but jealousy. Despite the fact nothing had happened between you yet. The way he regarded you was now even more open. Every look that followed every little flirtatious comment or innuendo was extremely pointed. Sometimes his eyes would even darken. It scared you enough to have you shy away from him; but also had you scared at how much you desired him. You just wanted him to touch you, just the smallest taste. To be honest you didn’t care what he did, as long as he did something. Krennic could bend you over his desk in front of your entire engineering team for all you cared anymore.

Speaking of your engineering team, you’d never seen a group of people work harder or more efficiently, and seeing them turn all your data and tiny models into tangible pieces for the Death Star was wonderful. You gasped to see the sheer size of the Kyber they had harvested to give your vectors pinpoint accuracy. “I have never… seen Kyber like that!” And the way Krennic got all smug again, “Only the best for you. Of course.” “You flatter me, Sir.” And that little knowing nod he gave you back. Once everything started to go into place, and you got word that Galen was almost finished with the laser itself (you received many an email from him about how proud he was and so many others from your friends back on Eadu that you almost cried, thanking them again and again for their participation in even the smallest part of your research), that the dish was currently in the process of being assembled outside and you couldn’t believe you were doing this. You couldn’t believe you were about to be a part of history. Your name was going to be right up there. Never even in your wildest dreams... As you could take a little more time over your reports these days, and there was far less for you to really comment on, you did start to present Krennic with physical copies. Usually just before you headed off for the evening you would drop them off on his desk with a small smile, and he would drag them towards him. “Glad to see you are taking my advice.” “Well, as you seemed fairly adamant I did it, I thought I had better start, Director.” “They do make for good bedtime reading.” “I’ll bet…” Only for the last week you’d started spraying them with your perfume, very subtly at first, but steadily the scent became stronger, and oh, he had noticed. When the doors closed behind you this evening he held the report to his nose and inhaled, groaning as heat coursed through his body. Krennic couldn’t take it any longer, he knew exactly what you were doing. Both of you were dancing around it, and now neither of you were being very subtle, either. But this was the final straw - because he wanted this scent all over him. What it would feel like to pin you beneath him, have your body against his as you whined and called his name, what it would feel like to finally be inside you… He’d certainly thought on it in quieter moments of the evening enough… *** Tonight your report was late. Not for no good reason; you had a lot of data to review. Galen kept sending you updated laser figures to get you as close as possible with your final vectors. Oh, you had no doubt that the Kyber could take it. You’d given a wide berth for the perimeters; but still, you wanted to check and triple check. On your head be it if you didn’t and everything went wrong. Still you wanted to stop by Krennic’s office to let him know why it would be late, as you always seemed to bring it to him around this time these days.

Krennic looked up as you walked in, without even knocking, but he hardly cared about that. His eyes narrowed at the lack of papers in your arms. “Where is my report?” Your face scrunched a little, “If you’d let me get a word out Director, I would tell you. I have a lot of data back from Galen that I want to check and double check before I send it over to you. I want to give you as accurate data and results as possible. So it’ll probably be late, or later than it has been these past few weeks.” Krennic tilted his head, eyebrow raised “Late?” He didn’t sound very appreciative. “Only about as ‘late’ as used to be normal.” He rose from his chair, and those blue eyes locked on yours, “Late-late bedtime reading? This from a woman who says I should be going to bed earlier.” “This once!” You protested as he rounded his desk. “You think that’s good enough?” You didn’t understand why he’d be mad at you, and Krennic didn’t sound mad… but the words he was using… “Well I didn’t think you’d mind.” “Oh, believe me, I mind.” “I-” You were about to tell him you were sorry - although really you had nothing to be sorry for - but he didn’t stop beside you. Instead Krennic stood behind you, a little too close for your liking.

You froze immediately as his voice lowered to a whisper, reaching out to brush a lock of hair behind your ear. The scrape of leather against your skin made you shiver, and you only wished it was his fingertips. You bit back your moan. “I am alone in my quarters after 2200 hours, it sounds like I’ll have data to review with you: that’s an order.” You swallowed unsure of the kind of response he wanted, “Yes, Sir.” slipped out of your mouth and he seemed satisfied. “Good girl. I want it on paper, as you’ve been doing recently.” “Yes, Sir.” “Well then…” He stepped away from you and you realised that you’d barely breathed for the past few minutes, “You best get to it, hadn’t you?” “Yes, Sir.” What was wrong with you!? Was that all you could say!? When you turned around he’d already moved away, crossing the room. “Good. Now go. And don’t make me wait, Y/N.” Krennic glanced over his shoulder at you, blue eyes burning, “As I’m sure you know by now, I am not a patient man.” *** You had to admit the pressure was on now. Because you did really want to present him with a decent report. (Just in case he wasn’t messing with you and he would be pissed if you didn’t turn up at 2200 with the correct figures.) And you sat back in the lab speed typing your way to the end whilst also trying to be as careful about Galen’s calculations as possible. You were right of course, his new figures still worked perfectly within your own. You looked at the clock, 2130. And the Director had told you not to be late. You printed the report and rushed back to your quarters; your heart was beating on overdrive. Was this about to be the encounter you’d always imagined? The throbbing ache between your thighs you’d also been trying (and failing) to ignore since he’d brushed his fingers to your skin earlier certainly hoped so. You barely had time for a quick shower to freshen up, but you took it anyway before changing and spraying yourself with that same perfume you’d been dousing your reports in, and hoping you wouldn’t run into anyone in the two corridors that you would have to traverse.

You checked yourself in the mirror as you gathered the hard copy of the report and your datapad for back up. You looked flushed, but still pretty at least. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself for your walk - you had a feeling you were about to end up being even more so… You paused suddenly and turned to the window; the colour of space had suddenly caught your eye. Purples and blues fogged in front of you, instead of the usual endless rolling black flecked with stars. It shimmered every so often and you recognised it instantly. ‘An Ion storm is coming…’ you breathed. You hadn’t noticed because your lab had no windows, but you were overjoyed that you hadn’t missed it. You allowed yourself to marvel it for a few seconds more before you realised you were about to make yourself late. Padding down the corridors you were pleased to see that there was no-one on route and you reached his room at exactly 2159. You waited for that minute to tick over, and at 2200, you knocked.

“Enter.” Krennic’s voice called you, with a sultry edge to it. And you bit your lip gently. At the sound of his voice his door slid open, and beckoned you inside. *** If you thought your room was spacious and had a generous window, this one was something else. Krennic’s quarters had a window that swept almost the entire far end of the room, and your eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to those vibrant purples and blues again. The lighting was fairly dimmed but you recognised it as ambiance; Krennic was setting a mood here. That feeling stirred once more in the pit of your stomach and you swallowed hard, the room had all the amenities, and you wondered why the hell he even wanted an office as well as this. Probably because he didn’t want everyone in his room, you guessed, but he had a desk and everything here. You scanned across the room to the bed; at least king sized, the sheets looked comfortable and luxurious. Why didn’t that surprise you either.

Footsteps approached from your left and Krennic swept around the corner from whatever had been keeping him occupied. He halted, immediately tipping his head to survey your body - instinctively you pulled the papers up to your chest and hugged them close. “I-I believe you asked me here to take you through a data review, Sir. And I made sure to print them all.” He hadn’t even traced his way up to your face yet and that smile became a grin, became a smirk. Krennic stepped forward - bless you for actually printing the damn report. He held his hand out, “Indeed I did.” You offered up the paperwork and he walked back to his desk, beckoning you to follow him. He could already smell the perfume on the documents, biting back a low moan. He had no intention of reading them tonight. In fact you hadn’t even sprayed the documents with your perfume, but there was so much of it on you that when you’d held them close it couldn’t help but transfer across. Krennic set them, and your datapad, down on his desk and turned back to you, now a little further into the room. Your hair was down to natural length and framed your face delicately. There were no shoes on your feet either. But your dress… oh… Ending just appropriately long enough to cover everything, the silk slip dress - in your favourite colour, Krennic remembered - plunged pretty low, thin straps looped over your shoulders and, he couldn’t see yet, but it had a low back too. At least you were dressed appropriately for where your evening was going to go. Krennic swallowed, aware of his own arousal as he made his way slowly back over to you, again, instead of stopping in front of you he rounded your body. Where he was close the cape brushed against your bare skin and you had to bite your lip hard not to whimper. Why was just the feel of it so sexy? Was it really the thought of being covered in it and nothing else? Would he wear it if you asked him to…? No, maybe not for your first time together… you didn’t think he’d want you making too many demands of him.

“I checked the weather for today and it looks like there will be a good ion lightning storm in the area. We can’t exactly move out of its way so… I thought you might like to observe…” “You remember a lot of things about me, Director… this one I might just have to thank you for.” Even as he disappeared behind you again you kept your eyes front on space, although you couldn’t help but be curious if he was going to touch your hair again. It hadn’t escaped your notice that he was finally gloveless. I really AM like a repressed maiden! He halted, and somehow it felt like he was even closer than before; was Krennic’s breath on the back of your neck just your imagination? You shivered involuntarily and even if you couldn’t see him, you could picture that smirk. His voice was at a husky whisper, already threatening to drive you wild. You didn’t dare press your thighs together, despite your desperation. “This dress is certainly not regulation uniform, and as per the rules, that would mean it needs to be removed.” You didn’t even get the chance to wonder if Krennic was going to do it himself as his large hands rested on your shoulders for a moment. You couldn’t help but tense; it seemed like such a foreign concept, his bare skin touching yours. You wondered if his hands would be calloused with all the work he did. He certainly didn’t mind getting dirty. But he was an architect at heart, and his hands seemed pretty smooth, assured, and warm… he was so warm… Krennic caressed his fingertips over you and you really couldn’t have helped that small whine even if you’d have tried. You were still picturing that delicious little smirk in your head, and you wanted to kiss it off. Patience… At this rate you’ll be getting to do more than that... His fingers slid under the straps, pulling them off your shoulders agonisingly slow, but Krennic didn’t attempt to help the fabric down your body, instead he just let it fall. It pooled around your feet and you swallowed hard again, hearing the slight chuckle in his voice before he tsked you. “You didn’t think to wear anything underneath?” “Well I thought about it, but-” You gasped as his hand grasped your waist, sliding down to your hip, his other brushing your hair back to expose your neck. Krennic’s first kiss wasn’t even tentative; but it was teasing and you shook under his touch. He smirked into your neck as he continued to kiss a trail. You bit back a groan, closing your eyes to the sensation of his lips on your skin, sighing for certain as his tongue ran over you. Had you told him this too? Or did he really know far too much… Finally having him kiss you after all this time was something that you almost found indescribable, and the heat between your thighs made you press them together as discreetly as possible - he’d get there you were sure of it, but that ache demanded attention. Krennic inhaled - and somehow that perfume smelled even better on your skin. He growled, grazing his teeth over your jugular, pulling your body back into his. “Oh… Y/N… you smell so good.” You gasped again as this time his arms locked around your waist to hold you in place; so close that his cape once again brushed your skin, you simply lay your hands over his. His still clothed body pressed up against yours felt simply divine and you knew Krennic was about to drive you insane, on purpose. As those kisses to your neck became a little hotter - and you started to imagine all the marks about to be left on your body - you couldn’t resist tipping your head back to sigh his name. You couldn’t be sure which he wanted to hear, but surely he would tell you if it was his first name. Maybe he didn’t want his lovers to call him that… you remembered your promise not to become just one on a list, but you didn’t want to think too hard on that right now. Much more enjoy the moment. You leant your body weight back against him, suddenly feeling tiny in his large hands. He smirked into your skin again, pulling back, one hand coming back up to turn your face to his.

“My, my… You’re already so flushed and… responsive.” That little smirk was so gorgeous you had second thoughts about kissing it off. You were already aware of how heavy you were breathing. Krennic bit his lip and somehow that made him sexier, “Have you thought about this?” You nodded, hardly seeing the point of lying. “A lot?” You knew the blush on your cheeks was only getting deeper as you nodded again. Krennic chuckled, “At least I’m not the only one…” He held you in place by your chin, “Whatever your fantasies are, you can tell me. But I can promise I’ll be better.” He studied your face intently, “Would you like me to kiss you, Y/N?” You wondered if that was a stupid question, eyes flicking to his lips and back to that intense stare he was giving you, “Y-Yes.” Surprisingly his kiss wasn’t as rough as they had been to your neck, but he showed no mercy when deepening it, and his tongue wasn’t about to let yours assert any dominance. You could taste hints of alcohol and caffeine, and something sweet - although you could hardly remember what they were serving in the canteen now. When Krennic finally released your lips to let you breathe, you were panting even harder - how was it possible to feel that power even in his kisses; you were going to be completely at his mercy all night and right now it was a delightful prospect. The wealth of experience he had meant he could surely show you a thing or two. The next graze of his lips to yours was fleeting, and he drew from you a whine. By his smile exactly what Krennic wanted. His hands wandered as he pressed a kiss into your shoulder, down the run of the pulse in your neck and over your clavicles to your breasts. Keeping those steely blue eyes on yours you were hardly able to look away as his fingertips brushed over your sensitive nipples. Even your attempts to stifle your groans didn’t work and you closed your eyes to his touch as he circled his fingertips around one. “You are so fucking beautiful…” He nudged your head gently with his own to expose your neck to him once more, “And you sound fucking beautiful too…” “K-Krennic…” You mumbled his name again, once again fixating on his fingertips as he moved them across to your other breast, repeating the same teasing circular motion before he kneaded you. You thought you’d read somewhere that you could orgasm just from this - and right now you’d believe it; feeling that sticky sweetness on your inner thighs. At this rate you weren’t going to last until Krennic touched you there. “Maybe we’ll have to make this your regulation uniform.” His voice was husky, “I’m sure I could have that rule changed just for you.” You shuddered again as he pinched your nipple between his fingers playfully, “Would you like that?” “O-Only f-or you.” You might as well go for it; he might as well know exactly how you felt. “Ahhhh!” Krennic vocalised like he’d just figured it all out, “Should I just keep you here? Or in my office? I hold a great many meetings there, though… I’m not sure I would like them all staring at you in your uniform.” He growled into the next kiss he placed to your skin, “I get jealous too, you know?” Well you did now.

Krennic straightened himself to full height, still supporting your weight his hands travelled down your body agonizingly slow; almost as if he was committing every inch of you to his memory. You already knew he liked details - and he was an architect; so it was Krennic’s business to know detail. Just how much could he remember about a lover? How much of you were you prepared for him to discover about you. His fingertips traces over your ribs, down and across your bellybutton and just below your stomach when he paused and his eyes left you. For a moment you’d quite forgotten that you were in the middle of an ion storm, and you wondered what exactly had dragged his attention away from you. The illumination of his face in the first strike of lightning made you gasp. And all you could think of was those eyes in the rainstorm on Eadu. The first time you’d ever seen him, an image that still haunted you. That was no doubt responsible for you now being naked in his arms like this. You turned to the window to watch the lightning for a moment too, flashing across the purples, blues and pinks of the cloud. “Isn’t it beautiful.” You breathed gently, and you heard him chuckle, “I don’t think you’ve looked in a mirror.” This time he pressed his kiss to your temple, and it was almost sweet. But now Krennic had you distracted by the storm - so his fingers traced lower and before you knew it he was pressing down gently on your clit. Your body gave a lurch into his and he growled again. Moving his fingers into your folds, you moaned head tipped back onto his shoulder, “Krennic…” “I knew you wanted me, Y/N, but like this?” His fingers moved through your wetness, teasing your entrance for a moment, and making you shudder, moaning his name again. “I can see that desire in your eyes wasn’t lying…” Krennic was smirking again as he watched you react to his fingertips, dragging them back towards your clit, “How many times have you been this wet around me, hmm? How many times have you thought of me doing this? Do you touch yourself and think about me? Is that what you do?” “Y-Yes-” Your thoughts were hardly coherent at this point, and as soon as his fingers touched your clit again, in teasing circles, you cried out; “Oh, Krennic, please!” “What else do you do to yourself when you think about me, hm?” He put a little more pressure on your clit as he rubbed it, “What do you think about? Me touching you like this? Or me fucking you? What set you off, hmmm? All that water-cooler chat? Believe me I know what they say... How would you like me to do it, Y/N? Do you want me to try to be gentle, or do you want it rough?” As if you really cared; your body shuddered again and you attempted to help the friction by closing your thighs once more, ache becoming a throb. “Uh uh.” His foot jammed between yours and forced your legs to widen for him, “I don’t like cheaters, Y/N.” You moaned once more as those little circles got faster and rougher, “Please, please! Krennic I’m begging you…” You whined, and your voice shook as you could feel that pleasure building, he couldn’t stop now. You wouldn’t let him, “Do whatever you want to me… just fuck me.” He nipped the top of your ear this time, “The pleasure will be all mine.” This time as the lightning flashed it illuminated your body, and Krennic was right, your dips and curves were flawless, you looked ready for him, you felt ready for him… like you were made for this very moment. Krennic moved his fingertips faster - and this time he pushed his body into yours. Your gasp at his grind into you was for one obvious reason; you could feel how hard he was getting. Oh, fuck... Your body shuddered once more and you mewled, positive that you were even wetter now. He knew it too, by that chuckle. “Oh? You want me don’t you? I know you know how wet you are… You want me so fucking bad…” That husky whisper was driving you crazy and you knew Krennic wasn’t going to let up on it, “You feel so hot, so fuckable… Oh, Y/N, I can’t wait to be inside you, but you’ll have to wait for that.” This time your groan was a little strangled, “That’s it, be a good girl… cum for me.”

If it wasn’t what he was doing to you it was his voice alone that sent that shot of pleasure right through you, burning head to toe with no mercy. You cried out again, but this time it was his first name you used - and you hoped he didn’t care. Panting as you felt the sweat begin to gather on your skin. Your legs shook a little but he held you strong. “Good girl.” He removed his fingertips from your clit, once again pressing a kiss to your neck, “But, you know as well as I that this is hardly over…” You rested your body against his chest for a minute, and he carded his fingers through your hair; it was almost soothing as Krennic twisted it between his fingers, “How about we use the bed now, hmm?”

“…Y…Yes…” You could only hazily agree, would he actually fuck you now? You were throbbing again - sure he’d said he wanted to be inside you, but did he know how much you needed him inside you? “Go on,” Krennic pushed you forward with his hand to the small of your back, you stumbled a little but didn’t fall and he observed your walk, the curves of your ass - the lingering of your arousal on your thighs. “Hands down.” He followed you across the floor - he was aware of how uncomfortable he felt, with heat in just the right places, and the way his pulse was running just to look at you. But he had to take this slow. The goal wasn’t just to bed you, it was to erase every other man from your memory too, so that he was your one and only waking thought.

You had to admit your confusion, but placed your hands out on the sheets in front of you to support your body, Krennic made you keep your feet on the floor and for a second you wondered if this was how he was going to do it. It seemed like a waste of a good bed, but your brain was hardly running your feelings here and that throb between your legs was so desperate for something that you didn’t care how you got it. Instead of hearing him shed clothing, or even just undo his zipper, Krennic’s fingers ran your spine. He really was about to commit every inch of you to memory, you weren’t kidding, before he traced them over your ass. You were half expecting him to slap you, but that didn’t happen either. In fact his fingers went right back to your wetness, and you shivered again; Krennic’s movements this time were less teasing as he pushed his fingers into you; you cried out - he didn’t even bother with one at a time. But at least there was something dulling that ache for a second; although you knew what your body really craved. The storm illuminated everything in the room, and far more regularly than before, as his fingers pumped in and out of you. The hums he was making were satisfied, and part of you wished you could see what they looked like crossing his face. In fact the thought that you might not get to see his face almost disappointed you. But you realised something else, the colours the storm were throwing everywhere, the very sound of it - with how much you enjoyed them anyway - and Krennic here with you, was only serving to turn you on even more. And he noticed. “Oh?” This sounded almost curious, “So lightning makes you even more wet, or is that just me?” You swallowed hard, against the feeling of his fingers stretching you, you were desperate for him to get naked now. “To… be honest, no-one has ever fucked me in a lightning storm.” “Huh. Maybe they should have tried, I figure they’re missing out.” You whined again, “Krennic please… please… I can’t take much more of this… fuck, I… I need you.”

You weren’t sure if Krennic did it because he was listening to your plea, or if he was simply just ready to do it himself, but the next thing you knew he’d removed his fingers from you and flipped your body so you were now on your back, on the bed. And as your eyes locked with his you realised exactly what you would have been missing out on. Although serious, those eyes were so incredibly dark and lust rimmed, and hungry for your body, that you thought you might come undone again right then and there. He placed his thumb delicately against your lips for a second, tracing them, before smirking again, “Open your mouth.” You blinked, but finding no reason not to do what he asked, your lips parted, tongue grazing his fingertip. Krennic immediately smirked, “That’s a good girl.” Before he slid the two fingers that had just been inside you, into your mouth. You moaned gently at the sensation. “I bet you taste so good, don’t you?” You could feel yourself blushing again, unsure exactly how to respond to that besides another muffled moan. He withdrew them, eyes narrowed even though he was smiling.

“And you do exactly what I say…” Krennic drew himself back to height, dragging his eyes down your body and as he did so he reached up to his shoulders, undoing the fastenings for his cape. Oh, you were going to get to watch Krennic undress? You moved to help him, but his eyes raised back to your face - and this time the bright white flash made those eyes of crystal blue let you know that he wanted you to stay absolutely still. “You look ready for me darling. Are you?” You nodded, hoping that the look on your face was as pleading as you thought it was. “Born ready for me…” Krennic’s voice this time sent chills through you with how commanding it was, “Mine.” You watched the cape fall to the floor and wished again for that silky texture to brush against your skin, perhaps you would ask him again later. He undid his tunic and shrugged himself out of it; Krennic wasn’t exactly bothering to put on a show for you - but it still felt like one, running his hands through his hair with a breath out before he undid his shirt. Slower now, button by button as he looked into your eyes, that little teasing smile on his face only made your lips part. This man was so gorgeous. And you were here, in his quarters, in his bed. You out of the many hundreds of women on this Battle Station - and all of them beautiful - Director Orson Krennic wanted you. He threw his shirt behind him too, before settling his hands on his waistband. You studied him for just long enough, he was built more toned than chiselled, and his arms and chest were particularly defined; there was a scar on his left-hand side, just above his heart, and you wondered what the story was with that. Maybe in a quieter moment you would ask, but that was not a story for right now. You traced back to where his fingers were waiting for you to take him all in and this time you bit your lip, you’d already felt him against you but you still weren’t sure you were adequately prepared… Undoing his zip with as much tease as his buttons Krennic let his pants and boxers fall at the same time. Your eyes widened, and you swallowed hard ‘Oh, holy shit...’ Your heartbeat picked up pace and you felt yourself clench greedily just at the sight of him. You bit your lip a little harder and raised your eyes back up Krennic’s body to his face, “I want to let you know - although it sounds like you do know - that every single one of those rumours is SO fucking true.” He smirked, “I might have started one or two of them myself.” You almost laughed, “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” He gave a shrug, “Well darling, don’t we all want to project the best version of ourselves?” Krennic joined you on the bed, settling himself between your thighs again, pulling your legs around him, “Now I’m going to prove the rest of them true, whilst also letting you in on some things you don’t know.”

You had every right to moan as loud as you did as he pushed into you, feeling completely filled right away. Definitely true - part of you felt you might be smirking very broadly into your coffee in the mornings from now on. Instead of covering your body Krennic stayed in that kneeling position with your legs crossed behind him, hands gripping your thighs and nails digging into your skin. You almost wanted his nails to leave marks, for there to be bruises that lingered for more than just a few days where he gripped you - just to prove it had really happened. If this is a dream please don’t ever let me wake up. He growled as you adjusted to each other, voice husky once more, “You’re so tight.” Your sigh came out a little choked with your breathing as - at first - he moved slow, hands gilding softly over your skin as he lay his palms flat. But he still had enough pressure on you; Krennic was still in control. Right now, being in control was the last thing you were thinking of.

Those slow movements of his were a facade, but they had you already moaning - body tingling as you got used to the feelings of Krennic being inside you. You wondered if you should be trying to be quiet? How many other senior officers had rooms around Krennic’s that could potentially hear this - did Krennic even care? What if they knew it was you though? You weren’t necessarily sure you wanted the reputation that might come with being Krennic’s bed mate, even if it really was only going to be tonight. As if he knew what you were thinking Krennic pushed into you a little harder, causing you to cry out a little louder than before - no point in holding back. “Let me hear you, Y/N. Let me hear those delicious little moans of yours. You can be as loud as you want here, I won’t tell anyone…” He smirked, “You might as well let yourself - because this is going to be the best orgasm of your life, or it’s going to be nothing. I don’t do half measures.” That seemed like an odd form of encouragement, but hot enough to get you mewling again. And he didn’t slow his pace. Instead Krennic dug his nails back into your skin, thrusting into you harder and rougher. You arched your back up, pushing your hips into his to take him deeper and deeper. Usually you weren’t so loud during sex, but with your eyes closed to the ecstasy of it all, each thrust received a moan that steadily grew louder and louder until you were pleading him: “Oh, Krennic… Oh please, more… Harder, Sir, please… please don’t stop…” This was clearly only urging him on as he found another notch in his pace. You might be one for thinking this was the best sex you’d ever had as you opened your eyes to focus on him once more; Krennic’s skin was starting to get that dewy look as sweat started to build, leaving his hair to look a darker shade of grey. And that lightning… oh, that lightning. Watching that storm behind him made the pleasure even more intense. The backdrop was stunning to an already flawless view - what more could you possibly ask for?

His sex was deliciously rough, and it was all you could do to watch his body, the way his muscles moved with each thrust, the tension running from his shoulders, down his arms, through his fingers and the little indents from his nails you could see in your skin. You almost wanted those fingers back inside you again too. Krennic growled as that thought led to you clenching around him: “What are you thinking about?” You looked to his face, obviously you were already flushed, but if it were possible to turn a deeper shade of red you were now. “...Please…” You voice wavered and you realised where this was all heading, “Please Krennic harder… Please I want to- I want to- let me cum for you.” That smirk was just plain dirty, and as he placed one hand under you to raise your hips a little more his next thrust found your sweet spot. You cried out even louder - hit with a shot of pleasure more intense than any you thought you’d ever felt. “Fuck-! Director-! Please!” He chuckled, “I have a first name, Y/N, you can use it.” Did he want you to use it? Did he ask everyone he took to bed to use it? You gasped again as white-hot heat shot through you head to toe and your legs locked around him, pulling him even deeper as you tipped your head back. And he knew as well as you did: “That’s a good girl, that’s my good girl.” Krennic continued to thrust into you until you had to squeeze your eyes shut, head tipped back you very nearly screamed his first name as your body shook and you came undone.

Your short, sharp pants didn’t really have any time to become afterglow, or some slow paced ‘love making’ for him to ride into his own high. Oh no, Krennic wasn’t finished with you yet - and although he lingered at a slower pace for a little - you could feel yourself building up again, heightened by the climax you had just felt. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes and you got the feeling that Krennic was not about to be termed a selfish lover. But a possessive one; your body was his, and he wasn’t finished with you yet. You cried out as he took that pace up again, you could feel him getting harder inside you, every little twitch as he continued those rough thrusts. “You ready for more?” You nodded weakly, moaning again, this would be the third time in one evening. Even if these two were in quick succession. “Yes what?” The commanding tone in his voice and the way he squeezed your thighs a little harder made you shake again, “Yes, Orson. Please… please, baby… I- I’m ready.” As you said his name this time Krennic pushed his body forward so that his hands rested above your shoulders, catching your lips in a harsh kiss. Your hands immediately shot to his arms, over those toned shoulders, and your fingers tangled in his hair. This time his kisses swallowed your moans, and the higher in pitch they got the more he knew you were ready to let go again. With him all over you like this, the scent of that cologne filled your senses. Krennic thrusted into you one last time and let you cry out into his shoulder. He could probably go a little longer - but he’d build you up to that in due time, he couldn’t ruin you on your first time with him. As you clenched around him, just as greedily as before, Krennic growled - hot breath in your ear as your own ecstasy became his. And now you were his too.

He let you continue to embrace him as you both panted, moving his own hands to gently caress your sides, your stomach and your thighs. Although the only sound was your breathing, and you could barely think of anything else, hands carding through his hair and watching those beautiful blue eyes focus on nothing in particular. Until the lighting strike flashed closer to you than before, causing him to look out the window. You followed his line of sight. “It really is gorgeous…” You weren’t sure if that muse was supposed to come out of Krennic’s mouth, but it made you smile. “Mhm… And I need to have sex in storms more often.” He chuckled, turning back to you and kissing your neck, softly, “Well, you know who to call.” Krennic pulled out of you gently, smirking again to see yours and his arousal lingering on your inner thighs. His. Before he lay next to you, eyes still on the storm.

You wondered what the best thing to do now was, as your high unwound. Ironically you didn’t think your body had been this relaxed in a while either. Should you leave? Should you make the decision to leave him before he kicked you out himself? You wondered if that was the polite thing to do. You didn’t know if Krennic was the type to really sleep with someone. When he would be at his most vulnerable. You weren’t sure he would want to show that side of himself to anyone. You decided you would show willing, and would let him know that you would leave if that’s what Krennic wanted - you weren’t about to outstay your welcome. Instead, Krennic did the unexpected and, finally settling down in the sheets, he pulled you into his arms, showering you with delicate kisses and touches. Aftercare... You snuggled into his body, sighing in sleepy content and closed your eyes as he pulled the sheets further around you. Did you dare believe this was happening - No, and yet it was. You were really here, in the Director’s arms. And he wanted you to stay. Krennic pressed a kiss to your forehead, and you could already feel yourself drifting off in his arms: “We’ll review your report in the morning.” *** When you awoke, the lights in his room were up to their brightest day setting. Krennic’s free hand was wandering over your thighs absentmindedly as he lay on his back, your datapad in his other. You tried to concentrate on that small smile on his face, those blue eyes of his, just how good he looked comfortable and relaxed, and out of uniform. You hadn’t noticed the collection of freckles across his chest in the dark of the storm last night either. Suddenly you wanted this moment to last forever, no matter now impossible. This coupled with the travel of his hands, even at this time in the morning, was making you sigh blissfully.

Krennic’s eyes flicked from what he was reviewing to your face as he turned his head slowly. “This report is good. Perfect, even. The ion storm messed with some systems last night, that can’t be helped. But we should all be back online to work later. I agree with your data, consider it reviewed.” Your head tipped curiously. “Systems are down? So…” You bit your lip wickedly, “We don’t have to leave?” Krennic placed your datapad on his bedside table and rolled over, hand moving to between your thighs, he could read that mischievous little smirk of yours perfectly. “Not until much later if I have anything to say about it.” You blinked once slowly, opting to voice your single concern now, before anything got out of hand, it was a whisper that seemed so out of place. But maybe that made it the perfect time. “I don’t want to be just a one-time thing.” Krennic’s eyebrows knitted for a second, before he smiled gently, other hand moving to your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb before he tangled his fingers in your hair, bringing you back to his lips. “Trust me, that was never a consideration.”

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Thank you SO much for reading, oh my gosh I’m slightly emotional over this one. I NEVER thought it’d be this long. And it’s 200. Like... there’s 200 of these things!?

I didn’t think I would get past one. And it’s ALL because of you guys!

Thank you for all your love and support - I know I keep saying it but I truly mean it. It means the world to me. 💙💜

#200!#Orson Krennic #Ben Mendelsohn #Orson Krennic x Reader #So. FYI for everyone the original request notes end at his 'come to my quarters we have data to review' and I just... didn't stop!#Sorry I was unable to resist this and I REALLY wanted it.#For any questions on the GIF just look at his face and tell me that /isn't/ how he's looking at reader throughout this fic #That's why I picked it.#Krennic x Reader #Director Krennic x Reader #Officer Benja Vy #I had to do waaaay too much scrolling to find that-! Hahah - our conversations!#Okay so in all the fics I've written for him Lorena is the only one(s) that get smutty. So this is ALSO your first Krennic/Reader smut!!#Linzi Writes #Linzi Writes Requests #Rogue One #Rogue One A Star Wars Story #That... /and he had Grace Too/ line #You either cackled like I did or you groaned #it was a final edit addition at like 10pm on the night of posting #Don't hate me I thought it was clever-!

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enaelyork · 10 months

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Okay i write so many smut scene for my Krennic x Tarkin’s daughter fanfic and i don't know if I will have the patience to wait or if I post them in WIP 🙈

I’m not very patient 🤦‍♀️

#director krennic fanfic #krennicask #director krennic x reader #orson krennic x reader #krennic headcanon #krennic x reader #krennic #orson krennic #star wars smut #maybe im just insane

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shadesofkumquat · 2 years

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a song for a mockingbird (director orson krennic x reader) ▴ part i.

fanfiction (7 parts) – A STAR WARS FANFICTION

pairing : dir. orson krennic x reader (fem!reader)

summary. Director Orson Krennic is in love with you. Yes, he is madly in love for the first time in his life, with a person and not with a project. You have quickly become his most consuming obsession. You haunt his days and nights. His body is a burning inferno at the mere mention of your name. Your frightening name. You are a Tarkin. And not just any Tarkin, you are the daughter of Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin.

This story contains some digressions from the storyline of the Star Wars universe. In the original works and legends, Wilhuff and Thalassa had only one child, a boy, but in this story, they had two, including a girl: you.

A fiction inspired by the seven deadly sins. It will have one chapter per sin, so 7 chapters.

rating. mature

warning. lemon, smut, semi-public sex.

Thank you for reading ! :D

CHAPTER 1.

ENVY. It symbolizes the sadness felt when someone else possesses something that we desire, as well as the will to get it no matter what the price or the means.

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“Hold your breath and count to ten Feel the Earth move and then Hear my heart burst again For this is the end I've drowned and dreamt this moment So overdue, I owe them Swept away, I'm stolen

Let the sky fall When it crumbles We will stand tall Face it all together

Skyfall is where we start A thousand miles and poles apart Where worlds collide and days are dark You may have my number, you can take my name But you'll never have my heart”

‘Skyfall’ – Adèle

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IMPERIAL BALL, CORUSCANT CITY. •• YEAR -1 BBY (BEFORE BATTLE OF YAVIN)

Once a year, Emperor Palpatine summons his most loyal servants to feast with him in his lair. The Imperial Palace. The best architects and decorators in the Empire are working hard to turn this huge reception hall into a showpiece for the eyes. Every year, the accustomed guests are delighted to be able to taste the refined dishes specially served for the event or to get drunk with the most exotic spirits. The Emperor always takes great care in decorating his impenetrable fortress, his reputation precedes his exaggerated sense of perfectionism. The imperial palace has no equivalent in the galaxy. It shines with richness and hardness, with the hexagonal shapes, straight lines, and sharp angles of its corridors. Far from being a place known for its shimmering colors, gray seems to be the Emperor's favorite color. The walls are soulless and painted in a charcoal gray, which contrasts beautifully with the crimson red of the imperial banners spread across the sides of the walls. Some of these banners even hang on the interior walls of the Imperial Palace in Coruscant City. Most of the decorations and artwork are scattered here and there, soberly and coolly.

You walk into one of the spacious pillared halls, unusually transformed into a ballroom. Works of art and marble statues guide your way until you reach the most ornate of them all. Even though you are a veteran of this very special reception, you can't help but gasp at the charm of the walls draped with imperial banners. A feeling of deep pride comes over you, strengthened by the honor that is specially reserved for you as a member of an ancient and powerful imperial aristocratic family. You are carried away by the beauty and cruelty of the regime to which your family has devoted its life for eighteen years.

After all, you are not just any ordinary person. You are the daughter of a high dignitary of the imperial administration, the one and only high ranking official, Wilhuff Tarkin. Grand Moff of the Galactic Empire. A close friend of Emperor Sheev Palpatine himself. You are the daughter of Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin and Thalassa Tarkin, born Motti. An extremely weighty name to carry. A family heritage that glorifies you and gives you many privileges. You are untouchable. You are highly desired by everyone. People are dying to be in your good graces, as if you carry within you the holy power of life and death over poor unfortunate souls. Being the daughter of Grand Moff Tarkin is not without its consequences, however, as it comes with a price of bloodshed. You had a childhood full filled with your father's devouring ambitions and your mother's ruthlessness. You grew up surrounded by beautiful things, but you were never truly loved, unlike your older brother, Garoche Tarkin. He is the worthy male heir of the noble Tarkin family. He is the one your venerable father holds in the highest esteem. When Garoche died, it was like a stab in the heart. This heartbreaking loss left your family to decline year after year until it became a desert land.

Your stunning face melts into the countless mirrors that adorn the walls of the ballroom. The beauty of the room is far from exceeding the number of mosaics that are covering these gigantic marble walls. Your beautiful eyes are then lost on the crystalline sculptures that portray forms both abstract and inspired by the most beautiful victories of the golden age of the Empire. You feel extremely proud to belong to the side of the victorious, the oppressors, the powerful and the aristocrats. Those who crush and break the spirit of the weakest, of those rebel insects that the imperial officials smash with the back of one of their boots. You share your life with the members of this illustrious and aristocratic family that inspires fear and honor throughout the galaxy. You live in one of the finest apartments in the residential tower of the Imperial capital of Coruscant City, since your father was named Grand Moff, after growing up in Port Tarkin on the planet Phelarion.

Coruscant. A planet that impresses all others with its ability to capture shooting stars and repel those that come so close to it that they are burned. A symbol of modernity and technological progress. It is the epicenter of the core worlds, an impregnable and fortified galactic city. The towering skyscrapers, the hustle and bustle of its crowds, the repulsor vehicles hurtling through the clouds. Coruscant expresses a magnificence that cannot be expressed in such simple words. You must live there, breathe its air corrupted by industrial vapors and walk its crowded streets to understand its beauty. It is the place of wildest rumors, both envied and hated for its affiliation with the reign of evil. Coruscant is the pride of its inhabitants, some of whom feel particularly proud, because they have everything. They are everything. The planet of Coruscant has been the capital of the Galactic Empire for fourteen years. The most slanderous of them point out a metallic aftertaste in their mouths, criticizing its life as a whirlpool that encircles you as if in a stranglehold. The other ones say that it is a fast-paced life that requires adaptation. They all praise the same thing, that when you get swept up in the current of this hyperactive life, a feeling of euphoria comes over you and never leaves you. Coruscant then becomes your beloved home, the one and only, the one that cannot let you down. Coruscant becomes like a part of you. You owe it loyalty and respect. However, behind every beauty comes its opposite. You know that every rose has its thorns, but that beauty cannot exist without its share of ugliness, like the sun rises and sets to give way to the moon and darkness. Coruscant is a cultural melting pot. The deeply rooted beliefs of its citizens are for the most part radically opposed, but these differences are necessary for the survival of the community. Each citizen of Coruscant has his or her own share of light and darkness. Director Orson Krennic is no exception to this rule.

Orson Krennic, the architect of the Death Star. His hands are golden and his genius is matched throughout the galaxy only by his arrogance. He is easily recognized by his white cape and heavy DT-29 blaster strapped to his belt. He is the only high-ranking officer in the Empire to show off his cloak, a secret way to assert his position in the eyes of others. For this son of modest workers, born in the city of Sativran on the planet Lexrul in 51 B.C., to be part of the elite of the Imperial administration is a remarkable achievement. Full of pride and prejudice, Krennic has been the director of the advanced weapons research office for several years. He oversees the construction of the superweapon with great care, reflecting a perfectionism that often turns to obsession. His work means absolutely everything to him. As for the Death Star, it means a lifetime work. His detractors do not sing the praises of his perfectionism or his intellectual rigor, they prefer to blame him for a laxness and a slowdown in the progress of the project. Director Krennic does not care about their gossip, he is convinced that he is acting in the interests of Emperor Palpatine and his glorious Galactic Empire. Orson Krennic is a man who has risen from nothing to the top of the administration. Everything seems to work out for this ambitious, temperamental, self-important character. Everything. Everything? No... Orson Krennic is actually obsessed with a project of a completely different kind than his precious Death Star. She has a name that makes your hair stand on end, a perfectly shaped face with a falsely angelic air, a position in the imperial aristocracy that appeals to both lust and fascination. A young creature, far too young to stand on his own two feet, perhaps even too young for a man like him. Director Krennic, however, is literally obsessed with this noble lady. You. You are all seven deadly sins for Orson Krennic. He doesn't know how to behave in your company, you have quickly become his dirty little secret. You have become his unhealthy, all-consuming obsession that has haunted his days and nights for almost a year. But... you are a Tarkin. You are the forbidden fruit in his eyes. How many times has he lusted for the chance to make you his? He wants you so badly that it shatters his hope of a normal life. You eclipse his precious Death Star, his lifelong project, in a heartbeat. He only has eyes for your beauty, your elegance, your aristocratic accent, your manners and your intelligence. He wants to make love to your body as much as to your bright mind. You are his mockingbird. You keep escaping, unable to stay in place, when he tries to catch the shine of your feathers.

When he sees you coming down the endless steps of the great marble staircase of the imperial palace, Orson Krennic is astonished by your apparition. It seems to him almost as much surrealistic as divine. You are wearing a long, champagne-colored gown, made of the finest silk in the Galaxy. It molds perfectly every part of your body, your curves are as if sublimated in this fabric of great quality. Wilhuff Tarkin does not spare any expense on the beautiful things you wear. You are a representative of the noble Tarkin family, you speak for an entire line of close admirers and supporters of the Emperor's totalitarian regime. Your beauty takes the breath away from most of the imperial officers in the ballroom. They all stare at you, one after the other, while you finish your walk. This dress is incendiary, glowing under the bright lights of the candles and the crystal chandelier hanging from the roof. It is bare at your back, letting the people who stay behind get lost on the glow of your skin. With one hand on the marble ledge of the gigantic staircase, you finally look up at the first face that catches your eye. Orson Krennic. He is true to himself, dressed in a spotless white imperial uniform that matches his incredible cape. You can even see a glint of lust in his beautiful ocean blue eyes as he finishes his cup of bubbly alcohol in one swallow. You can see him holding back a slight coughing fit with trouble. The look in his eyes says a lot about the depth of his intentions towards you. He's not your date for this party, yet you find yourself bemoaning this statement.

By turning away from him, it takes to you both to share a glance almost... conniving. You suddenly felt crossed by the same fantastic thought. You let yourself go for a few seconds to your most unspeakable fantasies, before feeling on you a very familiar look. Wilhuff Tarkin, your father, is with your mother a few meters away. They both urge you to join them, which you do, with grace and dignity. You walk beautifully, sitting on three-inch heels, your walk is smooth and feline. You feel yourself floating above the marble floor of the huge ballroom. As you walk towards them, you catch Director Krennic's furtive gaze on the perfect, naked line of your back. This is far from offending you, it rather delivers ecstatic shivers to your body.

Orson Krennic is a man your father does not carry in his heart. You can expect no blessing from him in such a fantasy. It is heresy, in his own words. What often comes out of his mouth are insulting and condescending words. They are full of hatred and jealousy.The rivalry between them is legendary, and neither Krennic nor Tarkin is able to put this animosity aside. Even for you. What Tarkin doesn't know, however, is that the ambitious director Orson Krennic is mad with desire for his own daughter. How ironic. Krennic has a secret crush on you. He sometimes thinks that no other man deserves your compassion as much as he does. He cherishes the sweet fantasy of shocking his rival. He sometimes sees you as a means to an end to destabilize your father. He thinks Tarkin will go completely mad if he knows that the man he hates most in the world is bedding his beloved daughter. Krennic is aware of this situation and enjoys it like a little child. Besides this strong urge to get back at your father, Krennic's feelings for you are sincere. He envies all those people who gravitate to you like stars in the galaxy. Especially when these young men are near you and hope to gain some of your affection. You are an extremely desirable and desired woman considering your family situation. Tarkin's daughter is the most prized young debutante on Coruscant. You enjoy the privileges of wealth and social comfort, and you have the right to set the rules. You have inherited your father's megalomaniac tendencies and the need to be in everyone's mouth.

You find yourself spying on Director Krennic in lovely company. They are all incredibly attractive in those shimmering silk and satin dresses. He laughs a little too loudly for it to be an innocent discussion. As he brings a sip of his drink to his lips, you spot the thin, playful smile that is gradually taking shape. You curse yourself for wanting so badly to know the taste of that strong alcohol on his mocking lips. He is not a man who shines by his physical beauty, but his charisma has something magnetic and almost animal. That damn cape, yet another ostentatious sign of wealth. You love this outfit as much as you despise it. How can such thoughts cross my mind? you think. You slap yourself gently, your cheeks still burning. Have I lost my mind? you repeat countless times in your head. The idea that your body could desire a man as despicable as Orson Krennic sends a chill down your spine. You roll your eyes, as you try to get your thoughts under control.

You don't know that on the other side of the mirror, Orson Krennic is boiling over just as much as you are, discovering all the courtesans that are raining down on your pretty feet. The Director envies all these people who gravitate around you like stars in the galaxy. Young imperial officers, shapely and of a suitable age unlike his own, all full of future and aspirations. They probably hope to capture Tarkin's daughter in their traps. Tarkin's impetuous and icy daughter. You're just a daughter of in the eyes of these brave young Imperial recruits, most of them from the Imperial Youth. None of these men feel the way Orson Krennic does about you. They don't have his strength of personality or his burning passion for every part of your body.

Orson Krennic is unfortunately not reachable. You know it will never happen between you, it's impossible, the barriers between you can't be broken. Not that easily. It would take a miracle, you think. Unfortunately, it's not up to you, which is not the case with these fiery young officers. When one of them approaches to you for a dance, you are far from resisting the temptation to catch Director Krennic's ocean-blue gaze as he passes you by. You put then your hand on the arm of one of these officers, to move away you from the one who tears your soul. He is young, attractive and well born. He is exactly like you. He too is the son of an imperial officer, born into an ancient family of the aristocracy of the city of Coruscant. Everything is much easier with him. However, this young man is not the infamous Director Orson Krennic. Everything is much more spontaneous with someone you know. That's where you belong, don't try to deny it, it's in the arms of a young nobleman that your father places all his hopes in you.

You let yourself be carried away in the effervescence of this evening. Things are not so complicated with this young man, they are almost natural. The only point that bothers you is that you feel indifference for him, despite his gentleness and his foresight. Everything is far too flat for a proud flower as passionate as you. Fool of you, dear little noble lady. You are getting bored in the arms of your courtesan, and you don’t even try to hide it. As he twirls you among the other couples on the ballroom floor, your eyes seek to capture those of Director Krennic. He is lurking in the shadows, in the middle of a conversation with your venerable father. From a distance, this conversation looks aggressive, Krennic and Tarkin are like a dog and cat fighting over the last piece of meat on the table. From time to time, your pretty face catches a few furtive glances in your direction. He seems to like the smell of danger. He seems to like you even more than anything in the whole Galaxy.

He looks at you compulsively, while in the same company as his worst rival. You love to feel that lustful gaze on every part of your body, you also love the way he caresses the crystal of his sparkling cup. He slowly draws invisible circles with the tip of his thumb as he fantasizes about the curve of your divine breasts. You can't help but believe that he is imagining obscene things about you, shameful and degrading things. You feel those two icy orbs focused on your back, on your buttocks, on your neck and on your mouth. He does more than observe you, he spies meticulously on your every move. So many attentions can only make you blush more.

After a seemingly endless amount of time, Orson Krennic leaves his conversation with Grand Moff Tarkin and two other officers of the Empire. You frown as you discover that his fanciful figure has now disappeared. You seem completely lost for a few seemingly endless minutes. You need him. You scream inwardly to feel those exquisite burns caused by his impure gaze on your skin once again. You reach for it left and right, until a leather-gloved hand comes to rest on your date's shoulder.

"Director Krennic!" he shouts, taking a step back. You observe a particularly funny scene, he seems embarrassed by the fact that Orson Krennic is witnessing your proximity.

"Leave us." orders Krennic, strengthening his grip on the soldier's slender shoulder.

"Fine. Director..." Not a word too far. "Lady Tarkin." he snaps, politely inclining his head in your direction. The young officer apologizes to you, seemingly terrified by the menacing shadow hanging over Director Krennic.

Orson Krennic doesn't even glance at the young soldier as he walks off to find his fellow graduates. "Ah, the Imperial Youth... They definitely think they can do anything, under the guise of enjoying the privilege of being well born, as well as representing the future of the Empire."

You feel his powerful arms wrap around your waist with possessiveness. Oh my... Is he really positioning himself as a courtier in front of all these people? In front of your own father? Something is boiling inside you, the beginnings of a volcano about to erupt. It seems to be devouring you with its big ocean blue eyes, almost like a hungry carnivore in front of a poor frightened doe. You are far from being frightened by the expression on his face, it is not expressionless, it is simply void of any purity. You feel extremely flattered to be the target of so much attention from him. You are pleased to see that he is ready to take all the risks to make you admire him. This night is the night of all dangers.

"Director Krennic," you whisper, not without a flash of pride in the sound of your voice. "My father is watching us with some displeasure." And there is much to be angry about. Wilhuff Tarkin, Grand Moff of the Empire, watches in the distance as Krennic makes lame attempts to get his precious daughter's attention. Yet he remains stoic in the presence of his wife, Thalassa Tarkin. The desire to have Orson Krennic shot has recently become one of his greatest obsessions.

In reaction to your observation, Krennic struggles to stifle an amused chuckle. "Your father has made me mad, my dear little Tarkin," he whispers as he places a hand on one of your hips, taking the time to stroke the silky fabric of your champagne dress. It is a game between you, you do not stop flirting together without putting a word on your relationship. It is dangerous and forbidden, it consumes you both in the unspoken. You feed on the ambiguous nature of your relationship, thinking that it will protect you from slander.

"So, what did you two talks about?" You ask him an innocent question with no hidden motives, and yet Orson Krennic feels his pulse begin to quicken dangerously. He avoids your gaze for a few seconds, before leading your every step onto the dance floor. You dance like any two aristocrats, but one is unfortunately not. You let yourself be seduced by the soft classical music that echoes from the backstage. An orchestra has taken up residency, one of the best in all of Coruscant City. You are whirling around among the other couples that have been gradually forming in the imperial ballroom. "Director?" you hope to shake him out of his torpor.

You notice that Director Krennic's gaze darkens as your conversation goes on. You are a fine observer, you know that something is tormenting the thoughts of the imperial officer. After a few seconds, Orson Krennic snaps coldly: "Things that do not concern you in any way, Lady Tarkin." Words hurriedly spoken, particularly your family name, but which he almost immediately regrets to have pronounced with so much hate.

He reads a flash of disappointment in the depths of your eyes, which seems to make him particularly uncomfortable. Krennic sighs as he twirls you around with one hand, before pulling you back to his chest.

"Let's talk about something else. I need some fresh air, if you don't mind." he murmurs, curling his lips into a charming smile.

"How about giving me a tour of the Emperor's summer lounge?" you say, thinking you can more effectively interrogate him once Grand Moff Tarkin is out of his sight.

"Good idea. I'll give you a tour of the gardens at the same time. They're prodigiously well-kept this time of year."

Touché. You see that your suggestions were correct. You've managed to cheer him up, although it's still not enough to make him forget the bad thoughts that have been running through his mind about your father.

"I'd love to have you walk me around under the glow of the moon."

Orson Krennic's face almost suddenly lights up. He is already fantasizing about the idea of a moonlit walk through the countless marble galleries of the Imperial Palace. The peculiar fact that this walk would be in your company seems almost unreal to him. "Please," he says, stopping his dance to offer you his forearm. "…all is yours..." the director murmurs. A proposal heavy with meaning, though it has the appearance of false purity.

You take the opportunity of Wilhuff Tarkin's face being turned toward one of his prized lieutenants to escape his surveillance. You hurriedly walk away from all the social bustle. A hand on one of your hips, Orson Krennic is directing your every step. He then leads you to one of the alcoves opening onto a hallway filled with marble statuettes. Although you are far enough away from the ballroom, you still feel the pressure of Krennic's gloved fingers on your lower back. You greatly appreciate this physical closeness between you, not least because it is forbidden to you. It is impossible to deny that you are both deeply attracted by the taste of danger. As your eyes move to the arm he has offered you, you cannot contain a pleasant shiver as you imagine being his. You even feel a sense of power. You find yourself in the arms of the powerful Director Krennic. Orson... You take the time to detail every line and stitch of his flawless white uniform. Your eyes gaze intently at that incredible, immaculate cloak, its flaps rubbing lightly against your lovely legs. When you walk like this, side by side, you look like a respectable couple of members of the imperial high society. What helps a lot in making this observation is the fact that Krennic is a high-ranking officer in the administration.

You take the time to listen to his speeches about the history of the Imperial Palace, including his glorification of the transformations that have taken place in this former Jedi temple, and you can't help but feel a sense of devotion. Orson Krennic knows his topic well, as he has spent many a night nurturing his brilliant intellect. He's not just an architect, the star of his former training. Orson Krennic is much more than an architect or officer of the Empire. He is a man deeply devoted to the culture and beauty of the Imperial regime. He seems to forget no detail, everything is scrupulously studied, nothing is left to chance. Orson Krennic does not seem to believe in coincidence, he is a man with deeply anchored scientific convictions. After all, he was one of the stars of the Republic Futures Program in Brentaal IV, where he particularly made his mark as an engineer and project supervisor.

"Your knowledge of the Empire's architecture fascinates me. Really. Director Krennic, you are a man who leaves no space for mistakes, aren't you?"

"Oh... Let's just say I'm a perfectionist." A slight laugh escapes his lips, he feels a sense of pride run through him. "I would never have reached the position I hold now if I hadn't made a name for myself with my intellectual rigor."

"You also distinguished yourself by your youthful antics."

You give him a discreet little wink, thinking back to the crunchy anecdotes that your father was willing to share. Of course, these anecdotes were not told in order to glorify his actions, but to push him deeper and deeper on the path of incompetence and frivolity. It may be foolish of you, but you would like to learn more about the young student he was in the days of the Republic. You even want to find out more from Orson Krennic himself. You want to share this intimacy with him by sharing his nightlife as a student.

"I was young once, like you, my dear," he says, swallowing painfully. His former smile mysteriously disappeared as if by magic. "We all have a reputation that precedes us. Mine is now irreproachable." He pauses briefly before continuing in a more tempered tone of voice, "I suppose Grand Moff Tarkin is the one I have to thank for this?"

"Don't be upset with my father, other people could have told me about this. Tongues are loosening...in no time at the teahouses of Coruscant City."

"I'm not angry." Yes, you are, you think. You're lying. Of course he's lying. You're actually embarrassed that this sort of thing has come to my ears. You're angry because this defamation comes from Tarkin. He is the one you despise most in the galaxy. You can see his eyes darken at the mere mention of your father's name. You feel his veins boil dangerously. His body has become strangely tense, he has apparently become stoic and distant towards you. You let Director Krennic become entangled in his lies, because you cannot support him. He seems to have a particular resentment towards Grand Moff Tarkin, and this does not leave you indifferent. You want to know the tragic background of this rivalry, but you are well aware that this risks making him angry. A heavy silence settles progressively between you, which leaves you wondering.

"I imagine that you don't intend to brag about having taken me away from my father," you say, laughing softly. You try to get out of this situation with your first spin of denial. You think you can joke with him about Tarkin, but it's actually a big mistake. You still don't know that you're just throwing twigs on an already burning fire. You are still repeating the same things, yet you are aware of your partner's feelings about Wilhuff Tarkin.

Your failed attempts to cheer up the sinister Director Krennic still do not work. You are resigned to the fact that the remaining part of your moonlit walk will be an awkward silence. You are like two strangers trapped by their own demons.

"Director, I..." you begin, wanting to apologize. "Tell me more about the architecture of the Imperial Palace, we stopped at the wrong time. Teach me everything you know."

"I don't feel like discussing that much anymore right now."

"Oh... Of course you don't. I understand perfectly." You can't hide a flash of sadness in the depths of your eyes, however. "We can discuss another of your brilliant projects in this case, anything you like. Why not the one you have in common with the Grand Moff? I understand you're working on a way to extend his hyperspace firing capability. If you ask me, it will be good enough that it can do what it was created to do." In other words, you ask him to share his impressions of the Death Star. You don't realize at the time that you have just triggered something in him. Orson Krennic stops walking almost instantly. He removes his arm from yours, while his eyes slowly darken into a blank expression of emotion. He quickly turns to you, perhaps a little too abruptly, which startles you.

"Because he told you about that too?" he spits spontaneously, with a violent tone that is unlike him. It actually sounds more like him than you think. Krennic is a man with an aggressive nature. You have never witnessed his mood swings, since they have never been directed at you. Yet Orson Krennic is famous for his explosive temperament and triumphant, if somewhat overdramatic, arrivals. This never particularly offended you until he took out his frustration on you.

"This is none of your business, this project is not supposed to be discussed in any way with me! You should never have even heard of it before it was made official in the Emperor's presence!"

His words are hurtful, his fists are madly clenched and his eyes are close to popping out of their sockets in anger. You feel him getting more and more impatient, close to spouting his famous curses. This verbal assault hurts you more than you can imagine.

"How... How could he tell you about this instead of warning our Emperor!" he recalls, shaking his head vigorously. That's it, he is carried away by his impulses. You blush as you go along, not knowing how to dismantle this time bomb.

"I'm sorry, please don't get so angry."

"Of course I'm being angry! How can I not be?"

"I just thought..."

"You thought you could relay my confidences to your beloved father, didn't you? Is that why you've been so... charming with me all evening? Is it to please him?"

You feel as if you have been slapped by the violence of his words. Then, you consider that he went too far in his accusations. You understand well that it is anger which drives his words, but they remain hurtful nevertheless. Your tongue clicks coldly against your mouth, a sign that you are also about to raise your voice.

"I am his daughter, as you say. It is only natural that some things are confided to me, it is a price to pay. You must accept this reality. I am a Tarkin," you reply in a condescending tone.

You stare at each other for a long time without saying a word, as if you were about to jump on each other's necks and kill each other. Lightning flashes in the whites of your eyes, both of you can't stand this inextricable situation between you. You have been torn between attraction and ignorance for far too long.

"I am far from allowing myself to challenge the success of your family. I am somewhat familiar with the Tarkin's military and political achievements," he says, hoping to soften the tension between you. Krennic is hurt, but no less lucid about the disagreements between you. "You've been making consuls, royalty, since your first steps in the galaxy."

"Oh, for pity's sake, Director Krennic! There is no need to confuse you with hypocrisy and false flattery. You despise the Tarkin name to the depths of your flesh. If you could destroy one, you would surely be in heaven by now."

"My compliments on the greatness of your noble family's soul are entirely sincere," he replies acidly. Orson is overwhelmed, he hates being rebuked so much. He can't find an explanation for your apparent animosity, even though he's been particularly charming in meeting you. What he doesn't know is that you're sure he doesn't really care about winning your affection. All he cares about is satisfying the wishes of Grand Moff Tarkin. For some reason, you are saddened by this statement.

"You are incapable of understanding," you say in a chilling voice. You back up these last words with strength and honor. Incapable. Orson Krennic is frowning. He seems to stumble over this word. No one calls Orson Krennic a failure. He is the brilliant architect of the Empire's secret projects. No one dares to even consider talking to him like that. He is Director Krennic, the one who terrorizes the cadets with his imperial attitude. "Your lowly lineage does not allow you to understand the duties of a child born into the old aristocracy."

Orson Krennic, however, remains unmoved by your cruel words. A thought creeps into his mind almost instantly. Did he really hear what she just spat in his face? Is it a dream, or rather a nightmare? Your words echo his past wounds, especially his miserable childhood in Sativran City somewhere on the planet Lexrul. He is very, very, very far from appreciating these words, which sound like a painful complaint to him. To say that Krennic feels at this moment a sympathy for your torments is an understatement. He feels his knuckles tightening inside his leather gloves. It is with clenched fists and crossed arms in his back that he decides to break the silence that has settled between you.

"I may not be able to understand the requirements that a high lineage birth implies, but I understand perfectly your inclinations..." At your stunned look, Krennic steps threatening towards you. He breaks the last inches that are separating your bodies. He's a head taller than you, which makes you step away until your back hits one of the icy walls of the summer lounge. "They're even very understandable, my sweet, how can you resist such a winning man?" he says, smiling wryly. Orson raises one of his gloved hands of a very beautiful black leather towards your face, then encloses it between his fingers at the level of the chin. Krennic then thrusts his two ocean-blue orbs into yours, satisfied that you are being forced to face him.

"What inclinations are you talking about?" you mumble, flabbergasted by this twist of fate. You've been very naughty with him and you're finally getting what you deserve.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about..." he whispers in your ear. You feel the vibrations of his sneer against your neck. Director Krennic's whispering voice in your ear is heavy, his breath on your skin erratic and burning. "Your entire body burns at the slightest touch of my fingers," he snorts, then emphasizes each of his syllables with playfulness.

You instantly close your eyes, trembling at the feel of his white uniform against your breasts. He strokes your chin with his fingertips to illustrate his point. You feel your cheeks flush like never before, you are far familiar with so much physical proximity. He witnesses this heat source radiating on your cheeks, which seems to excite him more. By the stars of the whole galaxy, you sigh. You blink countless times in reaction to this invitation. Everything about him is out of place, both his words and his proximity. He has an unbelievable amount of luck to be alive at this moment. You feel your pulse contracting, your hands clenching and your skin turning into a lovely scarlet color. You think you've heard it all in your young life, but obviously you haven't gotten to the cherry on top yet. What a... jerk. Your throat is getting drier and you can hardly swallow after witnessing such obscenities.

Someone help me, you plead in your head. A plea that gets trapped with all the others in the immensity of the galaxy. No one in the world can hear your prayers. An unsuspecting part of you doesn't want anyone to help you. Even before you do anything, you already feel drunk of him. The feel of his body immobilizing yours, his hands on your face, the way his scent surrounds you, the sound of his drawl, his laughter, his hurried breathing. Every detail of his person only fills your heart more and more with emotions bursting like a storm wave. Even that terribly sarcastic and charming smile is tearing apart what's left of your moral principles. One more word from him and you're on your knees.

"You... You're out of line!" you shout, while threatening to slap him in the face. As your hand rushes like a tornado to his closest cheek, he grabs your wrist with astonishing speed. Strength and authority. You can only bow to such control. As he finally releases your now limp and helpless hand, Orson Krennic decides to pin you against the wall nearest you. He then slams his hand against the cold marble without warning, which makes you jump. You raise your eyes towards this gloved hand which is a few millimetres from your face, before looking back into the immensity of his ocean blue eyes. You drown in the azure of his eyes, you feel yourself slowly suffocating, you painfully take in a breath of air hoping that it will put an end to your agony. "Do…do not come closer to me or my father will hear about it!" you mumble while blushing more than the decency requires it to you.

"Be aware of your desires, you will only take more pleasure in it..." His loud voice turns into a husky whisper as he longs to turn your beliefs upside down. His husky voice fills your mind with a delicate scent of desire. You are thrilled by the authority of his voice, and especially by the strength of his body against yours. You feel extremely vulnerable between this wall and him. You do not see any means of escaping you of this hold which proves more and more oppressive. He takes great pleasure in teasing your nerves, like a big child with a new toy. For the first time in his life, Krennic feels literally aroused by so much innocence. He is burning to discover the limits of your resistance, it even has something terribly intoxicating.

"You're wrong, Director," you lie. Another lie. You are familiar with lies like this. You were raised on hypocrisy and false pretenses. He understands that you are on a slippery slope, one that is likely to take you to his bed.

"You're dying for a man like me to shut you up right now," he says, judging the look on your face under his lashes. He leans dangerously toward your neck, before sliding one of his gloved hands under the silk of your dress to catch your thigh in his palm. He grabs your thigh with firmness, then raises it without asking your permission, to tackle it against his hip. You tremble at this intimate connection as you feel your lower abdomen catch fire from inside. You even feel a rigidity between the folds of his uniform, the desires of Orson Krennic are betrayed by the size of his erection. He comes then close to the hollow of your ear and whispers you some words in a slow agony: "You want it as much as I do, honey..." This is the worst thing that could happen to you. You're forced to reluctantly admit that Orson Krennic is right about everything, including your hidden desires.

"Director..." your whisper drowned out by your sigh.

You are whispering this single qualification as a mark of respect. As he grabs your waist as if it were the apple of his eye, you try to resist his urgent appeals. He suddenly puts his half-open mouth against yours. Under his force of persuasion, you feel that he has just broken the last strengths that it remains to you. You let him break the path with his warm and terribly playful tongue. Far from being motionless, his hands explore the whole of your body, to find your voluptuous and decadent curves. You sigh several times, unable to deny that you strongly enjoy each of his caresses. His expertise leaves you shaky, as if on the edge of a cliff. You feel like you're about to dive headfirst into what seems to be a flood of emotions. You don't know why, but you are no longer able to fight back. You find yourself alone in front of his whims, you resist as best you can the assaults of his mouth, his tongue, his lips, and his hands on your skin. He dominates your relationship, proudly draped in his uniform and immaculate cape. A white knight on his trusty steed. He wants you more than anything and he will get you willingly or by force. You seem to enjoy this closeness to the silky fabric of his suit. You even start to beg him to take possession of you while keeping his uniform impeccable. You beg in your head, luckily for you. This can only drive him literally crazy. Director Krennic is nothing but a damn time bomb at this very moment.

"Good girl." He rewards your performance with a caress on your cheek with one of his phalanges. "Give yourself up..." he whispers in the hollow of your ear as he reaches up to nibble the lobe. I've wanted you for so long, he thinks. You can't say no to me. Not this time, not now. As to illustrate the torment of his thoughts, Krennic tightens his grip on the silk fabric of your dress, he is very close to tearing it under the force of his impulses. Never. "...to me..." he breathes before his word is lost in a loud growl against the skin of your neck. Director Krennic's voice is unbelievably smooth, it even seems to burn every inch of your body with an all-consuming fire. You are mine.

The muscles in your lower abdomen twitch painfully, a sign that you are far from unaffected by Director Krennic's assault. His lips brush the curve of your right cartilage sensually and move to the bony line joining your chin. He caresses the swollen skin of your lower lip in a surprisingly tender gesture. You can't help but be delighted by the tenderness of some of his gestures, which hides deeper feelings than you realize. He lusts after you, he has wanted you for too long to be able to restrain his need for intimacy with you any longer than necessary. The closer his mouth gets to yours, the more you notice that his mind is dispersed in an obscene outpouring of thoughts. Director Krennic's gestures make you literally dependent on him.

"(Y/N)." he whispers halfway between the corner and the cupid's bow of your lips. He whispers your first name, taking care to separate each syllable as slowly as possible. It's the first time you've heard him whisper your name. Far from being offended by it, you seem to take an unhealthy pleasure in this simple mention. You want to hear it again and again. You love to hear it from the mouth of the one who has been setting the burning fire of desire in you. You close your eyes, remembering the sensual way he made your name flow like honey in his mouth. You dream now of feeling his tongue more deeply, so much so that you could cum like this. "Don't resist me anymore." he pleads as he takes possession of that pulpy, deliciously half-open mouth that's just waiting for him.

"Director Krennic." you beg, we do not know really for what reason. You feel overwhelmed by conflicting feelings. You're torn between wanting to push him away and wanting to dive into the blue of his eyes.

"Orson..." you sigh while he is kissing your neck. Your moans and sighs drive him completely crazy. He can't stop laughing when he sees that you weren't too hard to persuade. You feel the vibrations of his laughter against the skin of your neck, which he covers with kisses and light bites. "Call me Orson." An almost unheard whisper echoes your sighs and groans. You find yourself halfway between dream and reality. A sensual torpor finishes all your doubts in the blink of an eye.

As you throw yourself around his neck, the growth hidden between the pleats of his uniform swells dangerously. He likes the fact that you answer his propositions, that you are devouring his mouth with so much desperation. He feels strengthened in his intentions, he is now persuaded that you desire him as much as he desires you. And he is right to think that your whole body vibrates at the simple sound of his voice. You had a few scruples before throwing yourself at the first man you saw, but they've vanished like snow in the sun. It must be said that Orson Krennic is not just any first comer. He's that important imperial officer who always chats with your father with so much anger, he's that detestable pushy guy who tries to make his way in the aristocratic hierarchy of the Empire, despite his poor social origins, he's that man with the ocean blue eyes who undresses you with a simple glance at the curve of your buttocks. Orson Krennic is a fantasy, as much for you as you are for him. You dream of imagining your father's face when he hears what you're doing now. You dream of Orson taking you against him, in the crowd of all those aristocrats of the Empire, and twirling you around until you lose your footing in that huge ball. You even dream of him marrying you and making you his, both officially and unofficially. You love the idea of carrying on his family name, it might annoy your parents, but you love his name so much. Krennic. You want to be his first and last wife. You admire his career path to the highest levels of power. He came from nothing and made it on his own with his mind and skills. You love his calculating look and explosive temperament. You won't be bored in your life with a man like him. Despite the taboos, you fantasize about the possibilities of a lifetime with him. You let him cover your body with his strong arms, while the heavy panels of his cloak wrap around you as they move. He can do whatever he wants with you, his needs are orders.

No sound for miles, the darkness of the night drapes your meeting in a blanket faintly lit by the rays of the moonlight. You surrender to each other in a kiss that blends passion and need. You kiss as if you were looking for a breath of oxygen. As if all your conniving glances, your smiles in half-tone, your touches mean only one thing: the explosion of the senses. You feel the hands of the imperial slipping under the silk of your dress, and you briefly think again of your father. Your lips curve in a smile against those of your cursed lover. The idea excites you strongly, you feel then violent contractions in your lower belly. You kiss him with more fervour, while he pulls up his hands to the two hills which are used as opulent breast to you. His skilled fingers grasp with all the expertise of which they are capable these nipples full of life, whose tips take almost instantaneously a pretty red blood color.

"Orson..." you beg. "Don't stop, please..."

You hear a grunt of excitement from Orson Krennic, as he notices that your nipples are as hard as marble. He is crazy about the idea of being the one and only able to make you so responsive to his caresses and kisses. Very quickly, his lips take the place of his fingers. Here he is, on his knees in front of you. He went up your dress to your collarbones, you hardly hold the fabric above his silver hair, while he sucks hastily the tip of your breasts. Behind the excitement of your first lovemaking, you are surprised by his sensuality. It quickly becomes more and more unbearable, as your intimacy is covered with a translucent liquor, symbol of your desire. You want everything and right away. You catch then his face of your two hands to raise it gently towards you. He stares at you with his big ocean blue eyes, you even notice that his pupils have dilated. His look is much darker than at the beginning of the evening, it is almost magnetic. He carries you away in a whirlwind of shivers and contractions. His desire overwhelms you so deeply that you feel more and more unsteady towards him. You are finally aware of the power of his feelings for you.

You finally feel ready for him. It must be him and nobody else. You want him to be the first man to possess you. "Take me now." Yes, there. Against that icy marble wall, in the corridor of the Emperor's summer salon. You want your first time to be in a situation where anyone is likely to catch your lovemaking.

He instantly looks up at you, stunned by your boldness. A flash of light goes through his beautiful bright eyes, a mixture of excitement and annoyance. His old-fashioned side is hurt, Orson Krennic prefers to do things his way, rather than give in to your desires.

"It's where I want, when I want." he says as he turns back to your mouth, he takes the opportunity to nibble your lower lip until it bleeds. "I wouldn't take any chances here." he insists, unwilling to risk public humiliation. You are his dirty little secret. At your defeated and almost begging face, Krennic stretches his lips into a sly smile. "Unless... you beg me hard enough for me to think about it more seriously." He's playing with you, playing with your nerves. He wants to remind you who's calling the shots between you two, he wants to persuade you to believe in his superiority. "Beg me," he orders slowly. "Beg me good, (Y/N)."

Just as you were finally at the crucial point of your encounter, you hear male voices emanating from the corridor. They make you abruptly stop your exploration of the other's body. You release yourselves, not without regret. Orson Krennic grabs your wrist in one of his hands, to hold you against him, behind one of the many marble pillars of the summer lounge.

"Have you seen Director Krennic?"

"Krennic is a bloody fool to believe for a moment that he can win my favor this way," taunts a voice recognizable among a thousand, that of a middle-aged man. Wilhuff Tarkin. A flash of fear crosses Orson Krennic's eyes at the mere idea of being discovered in such an unfortunate position in your company. He thinks spontaneously about his reputation, but more importantly, his career. Tarkin could destroy everything with the snap of his finger.

"He's certainly gone to sleep somewhere. I found him particularly inclined to drink tonight."

"No doubt one of the many remnants of a straggling education..."

"You were right, Governor. A high-ranking position in the imperial administration does not erase all traces of its mediocrity."

"I told you so, lieutenant. Our social origins betray us in one way or another, no matter what circle of society we claim to be from today."

"Poor Krennic can now only hope to get a girl of good lineage to wash his name."

"Because you think that a father, worthy of the name and of noble lineage, will agree to give his daughter to a man of inferior condition? Come now, don't be a bigger fool than you are, lieutenant. The aristocracy of the Empire is much more conservative than you think. Marriages are made exclusively among ourselves. Krennic can only hope to find a wife among the common women. Believe me, it will be a miracle considering his age and temperament."

At the taunts of Tarkin and his loyal lieutenant, Director Krennic can no longer control his anger. He feels his fists painfully clench in his black leather gloves. He tries to keep his nerves and pushes you behind one of the balconies leading to the gardens. He takes the opportunity to briefly brush his hair back, before heading towards Tarkin and one of his loyal lieutenants.

"Ah. Director Krennic. We were just talking about you."

"Well, here I am, Governor...is there anything I can do for you?"

The strangely goofy smile on Orson Krennic's face catches Grand Moff Tarkin somewhat off guard. He finds Krennic behaving in a way that clearly does not call for innocence. Wilhuff Tarkin frowns in annoyance.

"There's no need to be so formal, Director. You kidnapped my daughter, where is she?"

"Your daughter..." then repeats Krennic with a falsely concerned look. He seems to think quickly, before giving the most appropriate answer. "She insisted on visiting the Emperor's summer salon. I accompanied her, in all honor, Governor."

"There is no need to confuse yourself with excuses. I am well aware that you don't stand a chance anyway. She's a Tarkin. An heiress of noble lineage. Unions are only made between members of our family, not to remind you of your lowly birthright. I admire your courage. She must have rejected you as she always does. I don't like her manners, but for once, I'm very happy about it, Director."

Krennic tries to keep a straight face but the urge to burst out laughing is far too great. All of Wilhuff Tarkin's insults and rebukes cannot remove that falsely silly look from his face. He relishes in thought the moments he shares with you. The urge to pin the Grand Moff down is also strong, but Krennic is aware of the risks of such recklessness. He cannot let the excesses of his ego get in the way of his career in the Imperial administration. Krennic thus manages to dissimulate his amusement by a first spin of denial. He feels the sneer at the corner of his lips only get bigger.

"You look even more foolish than you normally do, Krennic."

Tarkin looks suspicious but brushes off the possibility of Krennic and his daughter getting closer as quickly as possible. He has shaped you in his likeness, and there is no way you can disappoint him. It is clearly not a chance in his eyes. You are far too beautiful and pure. You are too high class for Orson Krennic. However, Krennic's smile is far too joyful not to find something to worry about.

"Where did you leave her?"

"She went back with one of our latest recruits, an officer, I can't remember his name, you know..."

"No, how should I know? Do you think that the name of each of our young recruits is made known to me? You're wasting my time, again, Director."

Wilhuff Tarkin spat that last word in his face. He had always been ironic about Orson Krennic's title, but this time, the inappropriate attitude of the director annoyed him to no end. Tarkin is clearly angry. He motions to be left alone. Krennic silently watches the Grand Moff walk back to the ballroom with his lieutenant. Not without one last well-placed advice...

"Enjoy this evening, Krennic. We will talk again tomorrow about the progress of your work. The Emperor is not the last to be impatient."

Krennic then sets off to find the place where he left you, but the mockingbird that you are finally escaped him. He came close to capturing your melodious song. Maybe next time. He doesn't know yet that you refuse to leave him your heart.

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