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empresskrennic · 1 month ago

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Choke me too, space blueberry daddy 🥺🙏

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

Tags: @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 7 @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @raevulsix @mssbridgerton @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder r @mysticalgalaxysalad

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empresskrennic · 1 month ago

Note

Have I reblogged this yet?? ScreamING at my SELFISHNESS

Hi. I was wondering if you would write for Krennic? I liked how you portrayed him in your thrawn fic. If yes, please can I have the NSFW dominant prompt number 29 with a fem reader?

Perhaps he and reader had been eyeing each other up for a while and they can’t resist anymore? Thank you in advance. 😊😊

A Deal with the Director***🌊

🫧 Pairings: Director Krennic X ImperialFemale!Reader

word count: 8.7k

prompts:

• “Suck on my fingers, get them nice and wet for me."

Plot: When you find yourself locking eyes with Director Krennic more than once, you thought nothing of it. But when you find yourself rather close and personal… it’s a different story.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ only. Explicit Sexual Content & Language, Soft!DomKrennic and Light!SubReader relationship, Female Imperial, Mutual Pining, Flirting, Finger Sucking, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Desk Sex, Uniform Kink, Dirty Talk, Strangers to Lovers, Forbidden Relationship, Sex With Your Boss, Authority Kink, Spanking, Implied Creampie , Reader gets Anxious, Prompt Request. Brea, Rein, Ronhar, Ralson are just random made up characters btw and don’t exist in the Star Wars universe.

A/N: Thanks for being my first Krennic request, anon! I had so much fun doing this so no wonder why it’s 8k plus words long. I’m going to be posting this in ao3 too so if you don’t want to red it all at once I’ve split it up into parts over there. 🩵

link: AO3 Krennic

You leaned against the console, adjusting the stiff collar of your uniform while your colleague and friend, Lieutenant Brea, leaned in closer, her voice low but animated as she indulges you with the latest gossip during an otherwise quiet shift on the bridge.

"I’m telling you, Krennic’s been a complete nightmare lately,” she whispered, her eyes flicking nervously toward the corridor leading to the command deck. “I was on maintenance duty last week when he stormed in. He’s usually uptight, but this time? He was snapping at people for breathing too loudly.”

You smirked, suppressing a laugh. “Sounds about right. I bet it’s because someone replaced his caf with decaf.”

Brea snorted, covering her mouth with a gloved hand. “Or maybe he finally realised that cape of his isn’t as impressive as he thinks.”

You chuckled too but didn’t want to ruin the moment and say you actually quite like his cape…

The two of you shared a cheeky grin, but your amusement quickly turned to curiosity as you remembered something you’d overheard in the officer’s mess hall the day before. Leaning closer to Brea, you lowered your voice even more. “Actually, I heard from Lieutenant Ronhar that it’s got something to do with Tarkin.”

Brea’s eyes widened. “Tarkin? That explains it. I mean, who wouldn’t be in a foul mood dealing with him? Those two have hated each other for ages.”

“Apparently, the Governor’s been in direct contact with him, undermining Krennic’s authority on the Death Star project. You know how much Krennic hates being questioned…especially by someone like Tarkin.” You reply with a nod.

Brea shook her head and rolled her eyes. “It’s a wonder they haven’t killed each other yet. Though, I wouldn’t be surprised if Krennic’s bad mood is because Tarkin’s finally found a way to outmaneuver him.”

You were just about to add your own two credits when the sharp hiss of the command deck doors sliding open sent a chill down your spine. Brea stiffened beside you, her expression going from relaxed to rigid in an instant. You didn’t need to look to know who had just entered. There was only one person whose mere presence could kill the atmosphere in the room that quickly.

Director Orson Krennic. Just the topic of conversation.

Both of you snapped your attention back to your consoles, fingers suddenly busy typing away at meaningless data as you fought to appear as though you were diligently focused. You could sense him before you saw him, the air around him practically crackling.

His clipped footsteps echoed ominously as he stalked across the deck, barking orders at officers in his path. “Lieutenant Rein, is there a reason these reports are incomplete? You’re telling me the entirety of this ship’s command structure is incapable of following basic protocol?”

Rein, visibly flustered, stammered out a response. “Sir, the system updates delayed the transfer—”

“Spare me your excuses,” Krennic snapped, his voice cold enough to frost over. “I expect results, not delays. If you can’t manage something as simple as a report, I’ll find someone who can.”

You couldn’t help yourself as curiosity got the better of you. Risking a glance over your shoulder, you saw him standing tall, his white uniform a stark contrast against the gray walls. His blue eyes, blazing with intensity, locked onto Rein, who looked ready to melt into the floor. Which is a shame seeing as you always quite liked Rein. Despite his arrogance.

Then, as if drawn by some invisible force, Krennic’s gaze shifted— and met yours.

Your breath caught in your throat. His eyes, sharp and calculating, held yours with an intensity that made your knees shake. For a brief moment, everything seemed to stand still. It felt like he was seeing right through you, peeling back layers with that piercing stare.

And quickly realising you had been staring, you quickly turned back to your console, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. “Shit,” you muttered under your breath.

Brea shot you a confused look. “What’s wrong?”

You leaned in, voice hushed and panicked. “I made eye contact.”

Brea’s eyes widened, “You what? Are you mad? He’s been chewing out anyone who so much as looks at him the wrong way!”

“Believe me, it wasn’t intentional,” you hissed back, your heart still racing. “It just… happened.”

“Forget it,” Brea whispered urgently. “Just keep your head down. Maybe he didn’t notice.”

But you weren’t so sure. He definitely noticed. Even as you pretended to be absorbed in your work, you could still feel the weight of his gaze, as if it lingered for a fraction longer on the back of your head more than necessary before moving on. There was something unsettling, and strangely magnetic, about the way he’d looked at you. You shuddered, not trying to think about it.

The rest of your shift passed in tense silence. Even after Krennic finally left the deck, the atmosphere remained charged. Nobody even dared speak and you were certain that Rein was crying in a corner somewhere. Brea shot you a nervous look, but all you could do was shake your head, still trying to shake off the odd feeling that had settled in your chest.

One thing was certain; working aboard an Imperial vessel was dangerous enough without catching the attention of someone like Director Krennic.

The hum of activity aboard the ship fell silent as Commander Ralson began his inspection. You stood at attention in a perfectly straight line alongside your fellow officers, boots polished, uniforms crisp. These routine checks were a necessary nuisance, and normally, you’d breeze through them without a second thought. But today, an uneasy feeling gnawed at you. A cold knot of tension curled in your stomach.

You told yourself it was nothing. Maybe it was just nerves from being up late working through endless reports. But your palms were sweating, something that never happened, and you couldn’t shake the sense that something more was coming.

Or someone else.

The Commander walked down the line, sharp eyes inspecting every detail, pausing now and then to critique the smallest flaw. As he drew closer, you steadied your breathing. You could handle Ralson—he was stern, but predictable. But before he could reach your spot, the doors hissed open with an unmistakable whoosh.

There he is again; Director Krennic.

You felt Brea stiffen beside you, a silent ripple of unease passing through the line. The director’s appearance was enough to make even the most seasoned officers tense up. He wasn’t supposed to be here. This was Ralson’s routine. So why had he decided to show up?

“Director,” Ralson greeted, snapping to attention as Krennic approached. “I was just—”

“Carry on, Commander. I’m merely observing.” Krennic’s tone was cool, but there was an undercurrent of steel in his voice that left little room for discussion. He moved with calculated grace, his white cape swishing slightly as he surveyed the room with a sharp, almost predatory gaze. “I want to ensure everything is… perfect.”

A shiver ran down your spine as he said the word, the emphasis sending a subtle chill through the air. Krennic began to pace slowly down the line, inspecting each officer with an unnerving precision. Unlike Ralson, who was concerned with the standard details, Krennic’s gaze seemed to dig deeper; as if searching for weaknesses beneath the surface.

You focused straight ahead, trying to keep your expression neutral, even as you felt the weight of his presence drawing closer. Your heart hammered in your chest, and you cursed yourself silently. You never reacted like this to any other officer, no matter their rank. But there was something about Krennic—something that got under your skin in a way that was impossible to define.

When he finally reached your position, he slowed down, pausing right in front of you. He hadn’t stopped for anyone else. Not a single other officer had warranted more than a passing glance, but now, he was standing inches away, studying you.

Did he remember you from yesterday? There were over 1,000 officers on this vessel and you never stood out, or so you think.

The thought sent a jolt of anxiety through you. You had caught his eye in that brief, charged moment, and now you couldn’t help but wonder if it had left an impression—an impression you weren’t sure you wanted to make.

You could feel the heat of his gaze as it traced the lines of your uniform, then slowly traveled up to meet your eyes. Every instinct told you to keep staring straight ahead, to maintain discipline. But the longer he lingered, the harder it became to decide. Would it be disrespectful not to acknowledge him? Or was it more dangerous to meet his gaze and invite his scrutiny?

In the end, you opted for caution, keeping your focus rigidly forward. But Krennic wasn’t having it. He shifted ever so slightly, ensuring his line of sight intersected yours, forcing you into the dilemma you’d been dreading.

His eyes locked onto yours, and time seemed to stretch impossibly long. There was something unreadable in his expression, a mix of curiosity and calculation that sent a prickle of discomfort through your skin. It felt like he was analysing every thought behind your eyes. The air between you tightened with tension, your heart thudding loudly in your ears.

Finally, Krennic made a small, almost dismissive sound in his throat, something between a scoff and a clearing of his voice. The spell broke, and he moved on, continuing down the line without another word.

You exhaled shakily, realising only now that you’d been holding your breath. Brea, who had been standing to your right, leaned slightly in, her voice barely a whisper. “Relax. He’s just testing you. If he was going to tear you apart, he’d have done it already.”

Her attempt to calm you fell flat. You nodded minutely, but the knot of tension in your chest didn’t loosen. Instead, it twisted tighter, leaving you on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Krennic’s unpredictability was what unnerved you the most—you could never tell if his silence was a sign of approval or if he was simply waiting for the right moment to strike.

And the worst part? You still had no idea what he was thinking, what his intentions might be, or whether this was just the beginning of a game you were being drawn into.

Maybe tomorrow will be different.

But you didn’t plan to think of him from then. Every single night.

The next few days blurred into a familiar routine. The ship hummed with the usual activity, the daily grind of assignments, reports, and inspections keeping you busy. Everything had returned to normal. Seemingly.

You hadn’t seen Director Krennic since that unsettling inspection, and life aboard the ship had resumed its regular pattern. But despite the return to routine, your mind remained troubled.

You’d hoped the lingering tension would vanish once Krennic was out of sight, out of mind. But it seemed he had carved out a space in your thoughts, one that you couldn’t quite push away. And Brea didn’t help either.

“Did you hear what I found out?” She asked, leaning over the console, her eyes sparkling with that familiar mischief. “Apparently, Tarkin’s been stepping up his little power plays. He’s convinced the Emperor that Krennic’s lost control of the project. If Krennic’s mood couldn’t get any worse!”

You forced a half-hearted smile, normally ready to match her gossip with snarky quips or some dramatic theory. But today, you were quieter than usual, the usual banter falling flat. You could tell Brea noticed the change in your mood, but she narrowed it to exhaustion or a tough assignment. Which was not far from the truth.

You were tired but mainly because your mind was still rattled by Krennic’s staring. The sight of his eyes had stuck with you, replaying in your mind whenever you were alone.

You hadn’t told Brea about it and probably won’t, but you’d spent more than a few nights lying awake, wondering why he had singled you out. Why couldn’t you let it go? Worse yet, you caught yourself subtly scanning the corridors, half-hoping, half-dreading to see that white cape in the distance.

You were searching for him, and you hated yourself for it.

But as days passed and there was no sign of Krennic, you started to relax. You told yourself he had probably left on one of his shuttles, returning to oversee some other corner of his vast operation. It was for the best, you decided. Life was easier without the gnawing uncertainty his presence brought.

You were in the mess hall with Brea one afternoon, chatting over lunch, when a shadow fell over your table. Looking up, you saw Commander Ralson standing there, his expression stern.

“Commander,” you greeted, straightening slightly.

“Lieutenant,” he said, his voice formal, though you caught a hint of discomfort in his eyes. “Director Krennic requires your presence in his office. Immediately.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Your heart lurched as a cold wave of anxiety surged through you. Brea shot you a wide-eyed look, biting her lip to keep from blurting out a comment, though you could practically see the questions swirling in her head.

“Understood,” you replied, keeping your voice steady despite the panic starting to bubble beneath the surface.

As you followed the Commander down the corridors, your mind raced, conjuring every worst-case scenario you could imagine. What could he want? Had you done something wrong? Was this some elaborate punishment for whatever offense you might’ve unknowingly committed? Maker, you knew you should’ve never looked at him.

You were ushered into Krennic’s private office, and the door slid shut behind you with a soft hiss. The room was sleek and cold, polished surfaces and sharp lines dominating the decor. It was almost clinical in its precision, every detail meticulously curated. But your focus was immediately drawn to the man seated behind the massive desk.

Krennic didn’t look up as you entered, his attention fixed on the datapad in front of him. His fingers tapped steadily on the device, the soft clicks echoing in the quiet room. For a long, agonising moment, you simply stood there, nerves prickling under your skin as you waited for him to acknowledge you.

You didn’t want to say it either but it was kinda rude he didn’t.

Finally, without lifting his gaze, he spoke. “You’re probably wondering why you’re here, Lieutenant.”

His voice was smooth, almost indifferent, but you could hear the faintest edge to it. You swallowed hard, your palms clammy as you tried to find your voice. “Yes, sir.”

Krennic paused his work, leaning back in his chair as he finally looked up at you, his piercing blue eyes locking onto yours with that same unnerving intensity from before. “The officer responsible for assisting me with project reports - what was it, Rein? - has… departed. Apparently, my expectations were too much for him.” There was a faint smirk on his lips, a mix of satisfaction and disdain.

He watched your reaction closely, as if weighing how you’d respond. You could feel the weight of his gaze pressing down on you, but you forced yourself to stay composed.

“And that replacement is… me?” you asked, though the answer was obvious.

“Precisely.” He clipped. “I require someone competent, someone who doesn’t wilt under pressure. I’m told you fit that description.”

You forced yourself to nod, though your thoughts were spiraling. Reports? That couldn’t be all there was to this. Why you, specifically? You had to bite back the urge to question him further, to ask what he really wanted. But you knew better than to push.

“Understood, Director,” you managed, your voice steady, if a bit hollow.

He stared at you a moment longer, as if gauging something deeper. The silence stretched just long enough before he leaned forward slightly, returning his attention to his datapad. “Good. You’ll start tomorrow at 0700 sharp. Don’t be late.”

You could only nod in response, the knot in your chest tightening as he dismissed you with a casual wave of his hand. You turned on your heel and exited the office, the door sliding shut behind you with a finality that sent a shudder down your spine.

As you walked back to the mess hall, Brea was the first person you saw, her eyes wide with curiosity as she rushed up to you. “Well? What did he want?”

You swallowed hard, still trying to process what had just happened. “He wants me to help him with project reports,” you said flatly, your mind still racing.

Brea’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re kidding. He’s putting you in charge of that? Sounds like a nightmare.” She paused, her voice dropping lower. “But I bet there’s more to it than that, isn’t there?”

You didn’t answer.

As Brea continued talking, her words blurred into background noise, your thoughts returning to that cold office, to the unreadable expression on Krennic’s face.

Tomorrow will be interesting, to say the least.

You barely slept that night, your mind spinning with scenarios, each worse than the last. What if you made a mistake? What if Krennic was testing you? By the time your alarm chimed, you were already awake, staring at the ceiling, your nerves frayed.

By the time you reached Krennic’s office at 0700 sharp, you felt hollow, running on jittery adrenaline and determination.

But when you arrived, the office was empty.

The pristine room was eerily quiet, save for the steady hum of the ship’s systems. You looked around, unsure whether to sit down or wait outside. After a moment’s hesitation, you decided you couldn’t just stand there doing nothing.

You’d seen the collection of data devices stacked neatly on the side of his desk, ready for the day’s work. You assumed they were intended for you, so you entered and gathered them.

The pile of devices was heavier than you expected, and you couldn’t help but wonder why all the data couldn’t be put onto one device. You gathered everything into your arms, careful not to disturb anything else, but the stack was awkward to manage. As you straightened, one of the smaller devices slipped slightly, almost falling, and you quickly adjusted it. Unbeknownst to you, nestled at the bottom of the pile was one of Krennic’s personal files.

A file that was not meant for you.

You set up your workstation at the small desk across the room, your focus shifting to the reports you were supposed to compile. Time crawled by as you went through the data, trying to maintain sharp attention despite your fatigue. You were lost in the numbers and projections when the door slid open and the familiar click of boots on the polished floor echoed behind you.

Director Krennic entered, his expression cool and unreadable as ever. A rush of relief washed over you as didn’t seem displeased to find you working already. You offered a polite nod of acknowledgment. “Good morning, Director.”

He barely spared you a glance, already focused on his own work. “Lieutenant,” he greeted curtly before settling into his seat. You were about to turn back to your task, thinking that perhaps things might be going smoothly for once, when his voice cut through the silence again.

“Where is it?” Krennic’s tone was sharp, irritation lacing his words.

Your fingers paused mid-typing. You looked up, confused. “Sir?”

His eyes narrowed slightly as he scanned his desk, his fingers drumming an impatient rhythm against the polished surface. “There was a file here—one I specifically left out for my use. It’s missing.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest, anxiety flaring. You turned to face him fully, a sinking feeling creeping into your stomach. “I… I’m not sure, Director. I didn’t touch anything except the data devices you left for me.”

Krennic’s gaze fixed on you. “Then where is it, Lieutenant?” he asked icily, “I find it hard to believe a file would simply disappear.”

Panic set in as you racked your brain, desperate to figure out what could have happened. Your eyes drifted down to your pile of devices—and there, half-hidden beneath the stack, was a slim, black datapad. Your heart dropped. You gasped, recognising the insignia marking it as one of Krennic’s personal files.

You swallowed hard and immediately grabbed the file, stepping forward with shaky hands. “I’m so sorry, sir. I must have picked it up by accident when I was gathering my work.”

His eyes darkened as you held out the datapad, his expression unreadable. “I see,” he said slowly, his voice devoid of emotion. He took the file from you, his fingers brushing yours just briefly, but it was his gaze that made you shiver.

For a tense moment, he studied you with unnerving intensity. Then, with a deliberate pause, he asked, “Did you read it?”

Your heart hammered in your chest, the question hanging in the air like a death sentence. “No, Director. I swear I didn’t,” you replied, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice.

Krennic leaned back in his chair, tapping the datapad lightly against his palm, considering. “Good. Because if you had,” he said, his tone low, “I wouldn’t be nearly as lenient.”

You nodded stiffly, unsure what to say. “Understood, Director. It won’t happen again.”

There was another long pause as he continued to watch you, and you found yourself standing taller, somehow more confident as you held his gaze. Finally, he gave a small, almost dismissive nod, as though deciding you were no longer worth his immediate attention. “See that it doesn’t.”

With that, he returned to his work as if nothing had happened, leaving you standing there, feeling both relieved and shaken. You quickly returned to your desk, your thoughts racing. The encounter left a bitter taste in your mouth—a reminder of just how precarious your position was.

You tried to focus on your work, eyes fixed on the screen, or in your case many screens, in front of you, but it was impossible to ignore him. Across the room, Krennic sat behind his desk, absorbed in whatever task demanded his attention. His brow furrowed in concentration as he read, fingers idly twirling a sleek, black pen with a dexterity that seemed almost effortless.

Your gaze drifted over to him before you could stop yourself, drawn in by the sharp angles of his face, the crisp lines of his perfectly tailored uniform. His appearance was always immaculate, a reflection of the discipline and precision he demanded from everyone around him. But it was his eyes that kept you lingering, those striking electric-blue eyes that seemed to pierce through anyone in their path. They were colder than ice, yet held a certain allure, a dangerous charm that you found yourself being drawn too.

The realisation hit you like a blast of cold air: you found him attractive.

Ridiculously attractive.

It was a thought that sent a jolt of panic through your chest. Why him, of all people? He was your Boss. But there was just something about him; something about the way he commanded a room, the aura of authority he carried effortlessly. It was infuriating and fascinating all at once.

As if on cue, Krennic suddenly looked up, his gaze locking onto yours. Your heart skipped a beat, and you quickly looked away, your face heating up as you pretended to be engrossed in the report. You held your breath, sincerely hoping he hadn’t caught you staring.

You risked a quick glance back, only to find his eyes still on you. But just as quickly as he’d looked, his attention returned to his work, and you exhaled, trying to convince yourself that it was just a coincidence.

But it wasn’t a one-time occurrence. Over the next few days, the strange game between you and Krennic continued. While you tried to focus on your assignments, your thoughts inevitably drifted back to him. It became a challenge—one that started to excite you. It was a dangerous game but Krennic seemed to be playing along.

When you stretched your arms, subtly arching your back, you could feel his eyes on you. If you stifled a yawn or let your teeth catch your lower lip in thought, his gaze would flicker to you, lingering just a moment too long on your lips. And you couldn’t deny the thrill that ran through you every time it happened.

There were moments when you swore he was watching you more intently than before, as if trying to unravel the thoughts running through your head. Yet he never commented on it. No reprimands, no acknowledgments—just that watchful stare.

You found yourself pushing the boundaries, testing the waters in subtle ways. Adjusting your posture, brushing a stray hair behind your ear, even letting out a soft, exaggerated sigh when you pretended to be frustrated with a report. Each time, his eyes would lift from whatever he was doing, and you could feel the weight of his gaze settle on you, lingering before he returned to his work as if nothing had happened.

It was maddening.

And intoxicating.

You knew it was risky to toy with someone like Krennic, but you couldn’t help yourself. The thrill of catching his attention, of knowing that beneath his stoic exterior, something in him was attuned to your every movement. You did wonder what was going through his mind. Was this just another power play for him, a way to keep you on edge? Or was there something more beneath the surface? Whatever it was, you couldn’t deny the thrill of having his attention, even if it came with a twinge of fear.

You had just returned from your break, a little more relaxed after stepping away from the unrelenting tension that hung between you and Krennic for the past few days. But as you walked into the office, your tranquility was shattered—literally.

The crash of something smashing against the wall made you yelp, your heart lurching in your chest. You froze, wide-eyed, trying to comprehend what had just happened. Shards of shattered glass glistened on the floor beside you, the remnants of what was once a data device. Your gaze snapped to Krennic.

He was standing behind his desk, hair slightly disheveled, his usually impeccable composure nowhere to be seen. His hands were splayed flat against the polished surface of the desk, knuckles white, as he leaned forward with his shoulders heaving. His chest rose and fell with every ragged breath, and the seething energy radiating from him was almost terrifying.

Your voice came out small and unsure, breaking the heavy silence. “S-Sir? Is everything okay?”

For a long, agonising moment, he didn’t respond. His gaze was locked somewhere distant, his usually sharp eyes now clouded with barely contained fury. You had never seen him like this.

But then you recall Brea’s gossip from earlier in the week; something about how Krennic was due for a transmission from Tarkin today. Given the state he was in, it was clear that conversation hadn’t gone too well.

Carefully, you moved toward his personal caf machine in the corner. The idea of making him a cup of caf wasn’t a grand gesture, but it was the only thing you could think of. Anything to diffuse the tension. You filled the cup, your fingers trembling slightly as you brought it over to his desk.

“I brought you some caf,” you said quietly, setting it down in front of him. “It looks like you might need it.”

For a long moment, Krennic didn’t react, his eyes still fixed on some invisible point far beyond the room. But then, almost as if he was waking from a trance, he blinked and his gaze slowly drifted to you. The storm in his eyes had softened, but there was something else there now—something vulnerable, almost unsure. His voice was low, barely above a murmur. “Did I hurt you?”

The sound of him saying your name, your real name, not “Lieutenant”, caught you off guard. The tension in your shoulders eased slightly as you shook your head. “No, sir,” you assured him, a soft sincerity in your tone.

Krennic exhaled a long breath, the tension visibly draining from him. He stood up straighter, his composure slowly knitting itself back together as he reached for the caf. It was only when he took a step closer to you that he seemed to notice how near you were standing. His eyes swept over your face, searching for something—perhaps fear or unease—but you held your ground, offering a small, genuine smile instead.

He took the caf you offered, raising the cup to his lips. As he took a slow sip, his eyes never left yours. “Nothing stronger?” he asked, an edge of dark humor with the question.

Your smile widened, and you shook your head lightly. “Not in this office, sir.”

There was a flicker of amusement, perhaps, or maybe even appreciation in his gaze. It was the first time you’d seen him like this, letting his guard slip, if only slightly. The man who usually carried himself with unshakeable control was showing you a crack in that armor.

Krennic sighed again, softer this time, and took another sip of the caf. The tension in the room had dissipated, and for a moment, it was just the two of you standing there, the usual unspoken games between you paused.

“Thank you,” he said, his tone quieter, almost reluctant, as though gratitude wasn’t something he often expressed. “For the caf… and for not running.”

You nodded, feeling a warmth in your chest that you didn’t expect. “Anytime, sir.”

Krennic was just about to turn back to his desk when you moved without thinking. You stepped closer, your hand reaching out almost on instinct, fingers brushing through his hair, “here,” you whisper as you begin smoothing it into place. The strands of his hair were softer than you expected, slipping under your fingers with surprising ease. You straightened his collar next, tugging lightly to even out the fabric until it was perfectly aligned, followed by the collar of his cape.

But then the realisation hit you—what are you doing? Your breath caught in your throat as you registered the closeness between you, the warmth radiating off his body now that you were standing mere inches away. Krennic stiffened, only just realising what you had done as his eyes flicked down to your hands, then back to your flushed face.

Your mouth opened, an apology on the tip of your tongue, but the words came out in a flustered rush. “I—Sir, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Before you could turn away and retreat, his hand shot out, fingers wrapping around your wrist with surprising gentleness. “Wait,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper but laced with command. You froze as he pulled you closer, the gap between your bodies vanishing. His breath was warm against your cheek, carrying the faint, comforting scent of the caf you had just brewed. Your pulse raced as his eyes scan over your face, studying you with an intensity that made you feel like one of the blueprints on his desk—scrutinised, analysed, evaluated.

“You don’t understand what you do to me,” he said, his voice low and rough, like he was confessing something he’d kept locked away. His grip on your wrist loosened, but his touch lingered, sliding down to rest against your waist. The heat of his palm seeped through the fabric of your uniform, sending a shiver down your spine.

“I’ve been thinking about you ever since that day on the deck,” he continued, his tone dark and laced with something almost feral. “You caught my eye the moment you looked at me… and you haven’t left my mind since.”

You swallowed hard, every nerve ending buzzing with the tension that crackled between you. The way his eyes pinned you in place, the way his hand subtly flexed against your waist. It was too much, and yet not enough. You found your voice, shaky but eager to engage. “I thought it was just me,” you admitted, breath hitching as he leaned in even closer, so close that your noses nearly brushed.

The smirk that curled his lips was intoxicating, laced with satisfaction at your confession. “You’ve been teasing me,” he murmured, his voice a husky whisper that sent a thrill shooting straight through you. “Stretching… biting that lip of yours… do you think I didn’t notice?”

“I was hoping that you would,” you rasp as your eyes flicker to his lips. Your mouth went dry as you struggled to respond with anything, but before you could form anything, he surged forward and captured your lips with a dominant, demanding kiss.

The force of it stole your breath, his lips claiming yours in a way that left no room for hesitation. You gasped, the sound swallowed by his mouth as his hand tightened on your waist, pulling you flush against him.

You barely had time to respond before his hands were on you, strong and decisive, lifting you with ease. You let out a soft gasp as he set you down atop his desk, flimsi scattering beneath you as he stepped between your legs, slotting himself there with deliberate intent.

Your hands found their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his uniform as you kissed him back, just as fervent and needy as he was. “Director,” you whimper breathlessly.

The pressure of his lips against yours was intoxicating, a heady mix of desperation and desire that left you dizzy. One of his hands slid up your thigh, curling possessively around your hip as he deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing at your lips until you parted them with a soft moan; tongue wrapping around yours expertly.

He pulled back just enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours. His eyes were blazing, “You’re driving me mad,” he rasped, his voice hoarse as he trailed his thumb across your lower lip, eyes fixated on the way it trembled under his touch. “Every time I see you, it takes everything in me not to do exactly this.”

You could barely think, let alone form a reply. All you knew was that this was the breaking point—days, maybe weeks, of unspoken tension had led to this moment, and now there was no turning back. The thrill of it, the danger, was overwhelming. “Then don’t hold back,” you whispered, daring him with a gaze that matched his intensity.

A wicked grin spread across his lips, and before you could draw another breath, he was kissing you again—deeper, harder. His hand began to get tangled in your hair that had become loose from its tight bun as the other gripped your waist, pulling you even closer as you clung to him, your heart hammering against your ribs.

As Krennic stepped back, his eyes were heavy with lust and with intent. His gaze never wavered from yours as he slowly slid off his gloves, each movement deliberate, calculated. You shivered from the way he looked at you. It was like he was savouring every second, every inch of you.

He reached for your uniform, fingers grazing your shoulders as he began to undress you. The fabric slipped away from your skin with an excruciating slowness, leaving your chest exposed, clad only in your bra. His eyes darkened with admiration as his hand cupped your breast, thumb brushing over the sensitive peak that was protruding under the fabric, coaxing a soft gasp from your lips.

“You are stunning,” he murmured, more to himself than to you, as though in awe of what he was revealing. His fingers lingered for a moment, tracing the edge of lace before his other hand slid down to your waistband.

“Raise your hips, darling.” You do as he asks, completely in awe as he tugged your pants down, letting them pool at your ankles before carefully lifting them away. Now, you were left vulnerable before him, the cool material of the desk beneath you a stark contrast to the heat radiating from his body.

He discarded his gloves completely, tossing them aside without a care, and held his fingers to your lips. “Suck on my fingers. Get them nice and wet for me.”

The desire in his eyes made your pulse quicken, and without hesitation, you parted your lips, taking his fingers into your mouth. Your tongue swirled around them, sucking gently as you let out a soft moan, your eyes fluttering shut in the process.

The taste of leather from his gloves was faint, but the sensation of his fingers in your mouth was overwhelmingly intimate. His gaze never left you, watching intently, a wicked grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice thick with approval. The praise sent a flush of warmth through your body, and your moans deepened as you swirl your tongue over his fingertips.

He chuckled softly, a lustful, satisfied sound, before pulling his fingers free from your lips with a soft pop. He wasted no time as his hand slipped between your thighs, fingers sliding over the damp fabric of your underwear. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” He sighs in approval before he hooked them aside. The moment his fingers made contact with your slick heat, a gasp escaped your lips, your body instinctively trembling.

“There we go,” he murmured, voice low and husky as he teased you with feather-light touches. “So ready… and all for me.”

He watched you intently, eyes half-lidded with desire as he explored you, fingers gliding with a smoothness that made you whimper. The way he looked at you—like you were the most exquisite thing he’d ever laid eyes on—had your heart racing. You couldn’t hold back the small whimpers and gasps as his fingers pressed deeper, slipping inside your pussy, you moan out every ounce of need that had been building up between you for days.

Krennic leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “Tell me how much you want this.”

“I want it so much… please,” you breathed out, hardly recognising your own voice as you begged him.

The smirk on his lips grew darker, and without another word, he curled his finger deeper inside you, his fingers finding that spot within you that made your back arch and your breath hitch. The rhythm he set was both maddeningly slow and utterly precise, like he was savoring every little reaction you gave him, drawing out your pleasure until it was almost unbearable. “So receptive, aren’t you?”

“D-Director, don’t stop.. oh fuck.. please don’t stop.” You lay your back flat on the desk, legs spreading wider as your hands move over your breasts, pulling them out the cup of your bra and begin to pinch at your hardened nipples, desperate for that extra edge.

You hear him let out something similar to a whimper as he watches you, his other hand that had been resting on your thigh moving to brush over your clit, his fingers making fast work. “There you go, there you go my beautiful girl. Give in to me.”

Each touch, each movement was deliberate, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body as he pushed you closer to the edge. But it was the look in his eyes-predatory and possessive- that had you crashing down with your high. You back arches from the table, panting his name as your legs tremble desperately with your release.

He doesn’t let up, chuckling as he pinches your sensitive clit as you cry out, unphased if anyone were to hear you. “F-Fuck! Please,” you cry, unsure what you are really trying to ask for.

Eventually, he lets go and takes your arms, sitting you up. You're dizzy, disoriented as he takes your chin between his fingers, making sure your gaze is on him. “You did so, so well.” He praises, moving his fingers to his lips and licking them, followed by him putting his fingers back into your mouth, tasting your aftermath.

You suck on his fingers like a woman starved and then lean into him, kissing him. He smiles against your lips, swallowing his small moans as you quietly beg him for more.

He began to undress, unfastening his uniform with practiced ease, but you suddenly reached out and took hold of his hands.

“Wait,” you said, your voice trembling with both anticipation and a daring excitement. “Can I have you… like this?” You gestured to his still-partially-clad form, your eyes roving over the impeccably sharp lines of his uniform. The thought of being taken by him while he remained in his authoritative attire stirred a deep, thrilling excitement in you.

Krennic raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Are you commanding the Director now?” His voice was a mix of amusement and curiosity, but there was no mistaking the gleam of intrigue in his eyes.

You flushed slightly, feeling a shiver of self-consciousness. “I didn’t mean to—” you began, but he interrupted you with a chuckle, clearly delighted by your boldness.

“If that’s what you want,” he said, his tone dropping to a low, seductive murmur, “then who am I to refuse?”

With a fluid motion, he released himself from his pants, the sight of his arousal makes you gasp. He stroked himself slowly, the motion smooth and controlled. Your gaze followed the movement of his hand, mesmerised by the way he seemed to effortlessly control his own pleasure.

“Sir,” you whispered, “you’re so…” you don’t even have the words, your mouth salivating as you watch him.

Krennic’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “You like that, don’t you? The authority, the control?”

You nodded, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “Yes, Director. I want you… now.”

He grinned, the expression a mix of pride and desire, and moved closer, positioning you carefully atop the desk. He guided you into a position that had you spread out in a way that made you feel utterly at his mercy. The cool surface of the desk was a sharp contrast to the warmth of his body as he hovered above you, his uniform still immaculate.

His hands grip your thighs, spreading them apart with deliberate slowness. You shudder under his touch, a small whine parting your lips as the tip of his cock settles upon your clit, his hips gently rocking back and forth to tease you. “You’re trembling,” he murmurs, “Is it fear… or something else, darling?”

You bite your lip, your breath catching as his voice sends shivers down your spine, watching his gorgeous swollen head starts to move between your folds this time. “You know exactly what it is, Director.”

“Such a clever girl. Always so eager to please.” His tone is teasing, but beneath it lies an edge of hunger, barely restrained. His hands trail down your body, brushing over your exposed skin, almost like he’s admiring a fine piece of art. He grabs his cock again and this time he pushes past the teasing and slips wonderfully inside you, filling you. There’s a wince on your tongue, eyes screwing shut as he stretches you. It had been a while.

“Mmmm,” he rumbles, his head tilting back as he settles inside you, allowing himself and you to adjust to his girth, “such a warm cunt.”

You whimper at his filthy words, watching between your legs as you prop yourself up on your elbows as he begins to move in and out of you, his cock glimmering with your arousal before he pushes back into you.

His fingers tilt your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. “I think you like being at my mercy,” he says softly, his voice laced with both challenge and curiosity. “You crave it, don’t you? That sense of submission… knowing that I’m in control.”

You swallow hard, feeling the truth of his words sink in just as his cock does. “Yes, Director,” you reply, your voice a whisper as your fingers grip the desk. “I trust you.”

For a brief moment, something flickers in his eyes—something more vulnerable, almost appreciative—but it’s quickly replaced by that signature smirk. “Good. Because I intend to take everything you’re willing to give.”

With that, Krennic presses you closer to him, his cock reaching that spot inside you with a heated jolt. “M-More, please.” You beg as he holds your thighs further apart as he starts to thrust with even strides, the pleasure like no other as you submit to him completely.

His groans are low and rough, his eyes fixed on watching his cock slip in and out of you with ease. He raises one of your legs, hooking it around his back as his hands begin to travel up your body.

Breath hitching, his fingers brush over your collarbone, tracing a line from your neck down to your chest where he then pinches and tugs gently at your nipples. “You look perfect like this,” he murmurs. “A picture of submission and beauty, being devoured by me.” His thrusts become rough, the flimsi on his desk scattering below you as you lay fully back, your body thrusting up and down the desk with every powerful grind.

He leans over the top of you, capturing your lips in a kiss, claiming every ounce of your attention. You respond in kind, hands curling into the fabric of his uniform as you pull him closer, both of your legs now wrapping around his body, tangled in his cape.

“Director,” you whisper against his lips, the title now carrying a deeper, more intimate weight.

“Say that again,” he commands, his voice husky as he brushes his lips along your jaw, his fingers tightening their grip on you.

“Director,” you moan softly, your voice laced with submission and desire. The word is like a key, unlocking something primal in him as his gaze darkens with raw intensity. “F-Fuck, you’re so good pleasing me. Your cock is so thick.”

“That’s a good girl.” His voice is a velvet growl, full of dark promise, and his hands slide back to your waist, lifting you and flipping you so your face was now pressed down against his desk, legs dangling over the edge as he takes you from behind effortlessly. “Now, let’s see just how well you can follow orders.”

You moan desperately as he spanks your arse, swearing out loud in pleasure as his cock drills harsher into you than before, his hand tangled in your hair as he grips firmly onto it as he takes you.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this,” he confesses, in a desperate moan, pulling out and slapping his arse with his cock before fucking straight back into you. “Since the moment I saw you watching me—.” he growls with a roll of his hips, “thinking you were being so subtle, so discreet. But I noticed.”

You can’t help but smirk, remembering every stolen glance, every time you tried to hide how much you were drawn to him. “I couldn’t help it,” you admit, voice breathless as you move yourself back up onto his cock. “You’re impossible to ignore.”

You don’t see it but his eyes flash with satisfaction, your walls tightening perfectly around his cock with every praise sent both ways. After a minute of brutal fucking, he flips you so you’re on your back again, stealing a kiss from your lips as he seethes back inside you.

Your back contorts, rising off the desk in an effort to press your hips further down, to take him deeper even when you see Krennic almost bottoming out—his cock pressed almost painfully against your cervix. “Stars, you’re so beautiful.” He moans in a higher octave, face buried in the crook of your neck. Your hands wrap around his back, clawing at his cape.

Your head spins with the thought that he was going to cum and coat your inside with his powerful, seed. Your body has submitted fully to him and is desperate to take more and more of him, to take all of him.

He leans back suddenly, one hand grabbing at your waist and the other moving to brush over your clit. “You’re close aren’t you, hm? You’re going to cum with me-!”

You see how affected he is—the sweat that bundled trickled down the side of his temple, his blue eyes half-lidded and so full of desire, his brows furrowed with pleasure. He’s going to cum soon and you can read it all over his face. “Such a divine pussy, you’re so beautiful.” He gasps and you’re in complete awe as you watch him come undone as you soon meet your high as stars start to blur in your eyes. “Fuck, cum with me, I’m fucking-!”

The next moments blur into a series of touches, kisses, and desperate whispered words as the tension that’s been building between you for days finally finds release. Your body trembles with the shake of your orgasm, his fingers working perfectly against your clit as he pumps inside of you.

And Krennic doesn’t hold back, and neither do you.

By the time he finally pulls away, breath ragged and chest heaving, the desk is askew, flimsi scattered, but neither of you care. His uniform remains perfectly in place, while you lay back, utterly spent and thoroughly satisfied. His fingers trail down your arm, the touch almost tender now, as he studies you with a look that’s oddly affectionate.

“You did well, darling,” he murmurs, a small, genuine smile tugging at his lips. “You’ve more than earned my attention.”

Krennic adjusted his uniform a touch and then took a seat on the chair behind his desk, closing his eyes with a content expression.

Meanwhile you stood nearby, suddenly feeling shy and unsure, the intensity of what just happened leaving you at a slight loss. The confidence you’d felt just moments ago just vanished. After all, this was Director Krennic. Your superior. How were you supposed to act now?

Sensing your hesitation, Krennic leaned back in his chair, his eyes taking in your expression. With a softness that was different to his usual sharp demeanor, he reached out and took your hand. “Come here,” he said, the command wrapped in a velvet tone. There was a tenderness in the way he guided you closer, a hand resting on your hip as he coaxed you to sit on his lap.

Blushing, you settled against him, feeling the warmth of his body and the firmness of his embrace. He reached for the collar of his cape and gently wrapped it around your shoulders.

You couldn’t help but ask the question that had been lingering on your mind, your voice softer than usual. “Why… why did this happen?” Your fingers toyed with the edge of his cape, nervous yet curious.

Krennic paused for just a moment, his fingers brushing against your back in soothing, repetitive motions. “Because I’m drawn to you,” he admitted, his voice lower, more honest. “This isn’t just a fleeting indulgence. You’ve captured my attention in ways I didn’t anticipate. And no,” he added, his tone firm but reassuring, “this won’t be a one-time thing. But it must remain between us. Do you understand?”

You nodded, a quiet sigh escaping your lips as his hand continued its calming path up and down your back. There was something comforting about the way he held you now. Dominant yet caring.

“Director…” you began after a few minutes of gentle humming and touches, unsure of how to continue. You wanted to ask if you should get dressed, if you should return to your duties.

He responded with a soft, knowing smile, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “When we’re alone, you may call me Orson,” he murmured, brushing his lips against yours in a tender kiss.

You smiled shyly against his lips, whispering, “Orson,” testing the name on your tongue. It felt strange but intimate.

He chuckles, liking the way you said his name. “That’s better,” he whispered, trailing his fingers along your jawline. “Now, let’s take our time, shall we?”

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