Stardestroyerphilia

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

And how very fortunate that timing was.

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

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

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

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

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

Absolutely stunning.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“More!” Krennic heard you beg.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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The rhythmic thuds of your punches and kicks landing on the bag sounded through the empty gym. You had had an absolutely infuriating day at work and took the liberty of escaping early to take out your anger on the punching bag, rather than ISB Supervisor’s skulls. You were concentrating so hard you were unaware of the door opening and a figure approaching. You jumped literally a foot off the ground once you saw Director Krennic’s reflection in the mirror.

“What the fuck!” you exclaimed, your heart pounding. Krennic laughed out loud.

“Excellent situational awareness,” he mocked.

“I’m not expecting to be attacked in the fucking ISB gym, Krennic.” You turned back to the bag.

“You’re letting your left hand drop on the right cross,” Krennic observed. “Rotate your hips more.” You ignored him, but still the Director—and your immediate supervisor—kept criticizing your technique. “If you’re going to abandon me early, I expect better form.”

Finally you decided you’d had enough. You suddenly spun to face him. “Fine then old man. You think you’re so perfect, let’s go.”

Krennic’s eyebrows shot up. “Old!?”

“Yeah, you’re like a thousand. Let’s go,” you repeated, beckoning him tauntingly. “Unless you’re afraid you’re going to break a hip.”

He licked his lips, looking like he was trying not to smile. You were glaring at him defiantly. Krennic closed his eyes and gave a resigned sigh. He flicked his cape from his shoulders and tossed it into a corner. Despite your irritation, you were surprised. For some reason you always assumed the cape was sewn to his uniform. Still without a word, he unbuttoned his tunic and threw it on top of his cape. You did your best to keep your eyes on his face and not survey his tanned and freckled body as he pulled off his gloves and added them to the pile. Finally he kicked off his boots. “You’re sure you want to do this?” he asked.

“Are you sure?” you countered.

He rolled his eyes and you lunged.

Knowing Krennic was left handed, you tried to land most of your attacks to his right, but it didn’t seem to matter—he was equally adept at blocking either side.

You were getting tired and frustrated and your technique was growing sloppy. Taking a gamble, you tried to end things quickly with punch with your left hand and a roundhouse kick, but Krennic caught your foot before the kick could land and jerked you off balance. You fell flat on your back, lights popping in front of your eyes as your head struck the mat. Taking advantage of your disorientation, Krennic pinned you down, holding your wrists by your head and keeping your thighs apart with his knees and shins. “And now you’re in a rather vulnerable position should someone want to take advantage of you.” Furious at losing the sparring match so spectacularly, you tried futilely to extricate yourself. Krennic held firm. You simply glowered.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten I was a Commander in the GAR before I began working on Star Dust,” he said smugly. You gritted your teeth together. Yes, you had forgotten. Even if you had remembered, you would never have expected him to still be so proficient in hand-to-hand combat. Well, in that case, you could think of another way to work out your frustrations—in the form of a consolation prize that seemed a long time coming.

“I don’t know what you mean by ‘take advantage,’ Director,” you said defiantly. “Perhaps you should show me.”

Krennic chuckled. “Do I need to be concerned about your survival instincts?”

You rolled your hips up into his pelvis, feeling his immediate arousal.

“C’mon,” you breathed, your voice and manner softening for the first time.

He didn’t respond. His deep blue eyes searched your face, the first time you had ever seen him indecisive. You were both aware of the magnitude of the line you were about to cross.

You pressed your hips into him again. “Krennic….” Ooh, he felt huge.

“You’re sure you want to do this?” he asked, echoing his earlier question.

“Unless you think you’re going to break your hip,” you quipped again, giving him a teasing smile.

He narrowed his eyes in annoyance. “I’m forty-five! That wasn’t even funny the first time.”

“It’s kinda funny. But lucky for you, I happen to like a silver fox.” You lifted your head off the mat, bringing your lips to meet his. Krennic kissed you back, hard. He let go of your wrists to eagerly push up your sports bra, cupping your exposed breasts in his massive hands.

Hastily you shoved down your leggings and underwear and reached to unbuckle his pants. You slipped your hand into his pants, massaging his rapidly hardening erection. And yes, his cock was every bit as long and thick as you had been fantasizing about.

Krennic meanwhile was playing with your tits, rolling and pinching and pulling your nipples just hard enough to drive you mad with desire. You arched your back up into him, humming your pleasure. He began tracing tantalizing circles around your nipple with his tongue.

“Krennic!” you whimpered. “Need you…”

He slipped two thick fingers into your cunt and smiled at your wetness.

“If I would have known you were this eager to fuck me, I’d have tried it a long time ago,” Krennic said, curling his fingers inside you.

“I thought that was your plan the night we got drinks. I was slightly disappointed.” You tried in vain to keep your voice steady as Krennic began pumping his fingers in and out.

“To be honest, it was at first. But I didn’t want you to think I was trying to take advantage of your emotional state.”

You laughed. “Director Krennic, ever the chilvarous gentleman.”

“Well, I couldn’t risk losing the best assistant I’ve ever had. I am sorry to hear you were disappointed…and apparently absolutely dripping with desire for me.”

“Well then hurry up and fuck me already,” you practically whined, spreading your thighs a little more.

His smile widened. “Well since you’re begging so pathetically…”

He quickly and deftly penetrated your slick folds. You gasped at the thickness of his cock, but you were so pathetically wet he encountered no resistance.

“Oh Krennic!”

“What?” he asked, feigning innocence.

You rolled your eyes. As if his ego needed any more inflating. “You know damn well what.”

He grinned. “But I want to hear you say it,” he whispered, leaving a trail of kisses down your neck.

The emphasis he placed on “you” didn’t go unnoticed. As though he had been told a thousand times, but he only cared what you thought of him. You, his assistant, his subordinate. You, for some reason, of all people, were the only one whose opinion he cared about.

You flashed a grin. “You’re fucking huge, Krennic!”

He didn’t waste any time teasing you. You planted your feet on the floor, angling your hips to take full advantage of his considerable length. Every thrust was perfect, hitting you in just the right spot.

Your kisses were sloppy, needy, desperate—as though trying to make up for the months or maybe even years the two of you could have been fucking, but missed out on.

All too soon you felt the familiar taughtness in your core. Your hands were tracing up his biceps, through his hair, down his back, pressing him closer into you.

“Krennic!” You dug your nails into his back as you came.

You desperately wanted him to continue, but no sooner had you finished then he pulled out. Before you could protest your disappointment at the sudden emptiness, Krennic was on his feet.

“Up” he ordered. But you didn’t. You just got to your knees, looking up at him through your lashes.

You ran your tongue from the tip of his cock to the base, causing him to shudder. You smirked up at him as you closed your lips around him and began sucking in earnest. Normally you didn’t like giving head after sex, but for Krennic you could make an exception.

“Oh fuck!” he groaned.

He threaded his fingers through your hair, urging your head further onto his dick as you increased your pace.

“Wait!” Krennic said suddenly. His fingers still entwined in your hair, he pulled you to your feet. “Not yet…”

Ripping off your pants entirely as Krennic kicked off his own, you stood. Krennic roughly shoved you in front of him and bent you forward. You obediently braced your arms on the mirror and arched your back, keeping your legs straight.

“Fuck, look at you,” Krennic said, admiring your body in the reflection of the mirror. He ran his hands up your torso to your breasts then down your back to your ass and legs. “Fuck,” he repeated, giving your ass a playful smack.

“Don’t just stand there,” you said, trying to appear nonchalant, though internally you extremely pleased with his appraisal. “Do something about it.”

Krennic positioned himself behind you and thrust into you once again.

“Oh, yes, Director!” you gasped breathlessly. As you could have guessed, Krennic’s arousal and enthusiasm increased with your use of his title. He was griping your hips so hard you were convinced you’d have bruises the next day, but you didn’t care.

Krennic’s grunts, your moans, the lewd squelching of Krennic’s dick pounding in and out of your dripping cunt filled the gym now. Was it really less than an hour ago you were envisioning punching Ronan’s face on the bag? And now Director Krennic was fucking you as though the fate of the galaxy—or even Star Dust—depended on it?

Your eyes were closed, trying to savor the pleasure.

“Look at me,” Krennic commanded.

You obeyed, holding his ice blue gaze in the mirror.

“Please!”

“Please what?” he asked as though requesting clarification on a memo you had sent.

“Fuck, Krennic! Please make me cum!” you implored, eyes shut again.

“Look at me,” he directed once more.

Your eyes snapped open in delighted surprise as his fingers found your clit.

“Oh shit!” you gasped. Krennic smirked as your walls fluttered around him. You felt yourself clench around his thick cock again and again as he fucked you through your high. Just as you thought you felt your arms and legs wouldn’t be able to support you any longer, you felt his considerable release.

You both stood panting for a moment, trying to catch your breath. You straightened up, him still inside you. Krennic’s thick fingers wove through your hair again, more gently this time, turning your head to meet his lips.

“Can we do this every time I have a bad day at work?” you breathed.

Krennic chuckled. “Now there’s an idea.”

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You lounged in the high-backed black chair at the head of the long conference table aboard the Death Star. The highly polished surface reflected every light in the room. In the oppressive silence of the empty conference room, you studied the mirror-like reflections. Twelve halo-like reflections perfectly centered on the table in front of each of the twelve chairs. Even the minuscule stars visible through the floor to ceiling picture window were represented in reflection. You tried counting the tiny pinpricks of starlight too, but couldn’t concentrate. Where was he?

Despite your relaxed posture, your nerves were alight with anticipation. You slouched further, uncrossing then recrossing your legs to relieve some of your nervous tension. Your knee-high patent leather boots gleamed with a gloss to rival the table. Flexing and pointing your foot you absently noticed the distortion of the oblong white lights built into the room’s black walls across your boots. Another minute dragged by. Your patience was dwindling. It was most unlike him to be late. You didn’t think you could stand it if he missed it…

The door to the conference room abruptly opened with a distinctive hiss. Your eyes snapped to the doorway.

Krennic stood on the threshold. His ice blue eyes fell on you and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“You’re late,” you snapped.

The smile disappeared and his brows knit together in the shadow of a frown. “My dear, had I known you were the one with whom I was to meet I would have ensured a timely arrival.”

“I didn’t realize the great Imperial Director made it a habit to be tardy,” you said irritably.

Krennic’s smile returned with a chuckle. “Only when I assume Tarkin issued a summons for me in my own Death Star. Tell me, my Senator, what have I done to incur your wrath?”

“You’re late!” you repeated.

“Only by a minute my love,” he protested.

“Seven,” you corrected heatedly. Now that he was actually here, your anger was ebbing, but you wanted to keep up the act.

“And I beg your forgiveness.” Krennic stooped to kiss your cheek, but you stood and, brushing past him, strode to the window. You nervously scanned the vastness of the canvas of space, but didn’t see anything except for a Star Destroyer floating lazily against the velvety black. Good, you thought, he won’t have missed anything.

“Now really,” Krennic pouted as he trailed behind you. “Is this any way to treat me on my birthday?”

“Is it?” you answered vaguely, not taking your eyes off the Star Destroyer. You realized Krennic’s lack of punctuality might actually serve to enhance your plan. Initially you were going to pitch your idea, but now he would be able to see…

Crossing his arms, Krennic let out an indignant noise of disbelief. “I cannot believe—“

“And I cannot believe a grown man is about to have a tantrum because I forgot his birthday.”

“After what I did for you—“

“Shh!” you cut him off.

Krennic petulantly stared out the window.

“Ah! Finally!” you breathed, a triumphant smile spreading across your face.

There was a moment of silence as he waited for you to explain. “Finally what?” he dared ask.

“Look,” you commanded, pointing to the Star Destroyer.

The triangle of a shadow was spreading over the ship. It continued to grow, slowly engulfing the entire ship.

You turned to face him, fully beaming now. Krennic craned his neck trying to see what object could possibly dwarf a Star Destroyer. “What the…” he began, then started in surprise.

The point of an absolutely massive ship appeared at the top of the window. The ship continued on its course, growing impossibly larger every moment, filling the entire frame.

Krennic’s jaw dropped. “What in the galaxy?” he asked breathlessly. “That cannot possibly be a Star Destroyer.”

“Of course not!” You couldn’t help an involuntary an eye roll as you turned to face him as he studied the ship. “It’s a Super Star Destroyer. Pet project I’ve been working on. It’s not been commissioned by the Empire yet. This is just the prototype. I call it…the Director.”

“The…” Krennic turned to you in amazement, his eyes positively glinting with glee at the implication of the moniker.

You nodded and giggled in delight. “The Director for the Director.”

Krennic had no words. He dipped you into a passionate kiss for a long moment before straightening up. He took your hand as he faced the window once again to admire his ship.

“Happy birthday love,” you said leaning your head against Krennic’s shoulder. “I could never forget.”

“Give me the specs,” he ordered like a giddy child.

You giggled again. “19,000 meters long. Thirteen engines. Two deflector shield generators.”

“How much bigger is mine than Tarkin’s?” he demanded, leaving a trail of kisses from your shoulder to the curve of your neck.

“For kriff’s sake Orson! Will you restrain yourself?” you exclaimed, half exasperated, half amused as you felt his evident arousal.

“No! It’s my birthday!” He gave you an exaggerated pout.

You laughed and brushed your lips against his cheek. “Lucky for you I find that expression irresistible.”

“Good.” He grabbed your hand and strode away from the window and out the conference room.

“Where are we going in such a hurry?” you asked, practically jogging to keep up behind his billowing white cape. “I thought you wanted more specs?”

“That can wait. First we need to go christen my ship.”

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