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PROMPT POST #3 - CLOSED

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+ All comments except fills should be posted anonymously.
+ All prompts should focus on TFA characters. You can't post OT or PT-only prompts.
+ One prompt per comment please.
+ You can request both kink and non-kink content
+ Crossovers, characters from the other media are allowed, but must relate to the 2015 movie in some way.
+ All prompt comments should begin with a pairing tag (eg Rey/Finn) or Gen for no pairing.
+ Use 'Any' when prompting for any pairing at all (eg Kylo/Any or Any/Any)
+ Anyone, everyone, no one? Use "Other." (e.g. Poe/Other)
+ Warn for common triggers, please
+ NO PROMPTS FEATURING CHARACTERS UNDER 18 IN SEXUAL SITUATIONS.
+ don't hijack other people's prompts.
+ prompts should not exceed ~250 words.
+ also, while this is not really a rule I can enforce, please try to limit yourselves to fewer than 5 prompts per page.
+ reposting prompts is currently not allowed.
+ no prompts based on real life tragic events. e.g: 9/11 au, concentration camp au, etc
+ PLAY NICE

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‘Sir, Lord Vader has deployed his TIE fighter escort against the rebels. He’s leading the counterattack himself,’ General Moradmin Bast reported.

Tarkin nodded without taking his eyes of the set of displays detailing both the status of the Death Star’s weapon arrays and the positions of the suicidal rebels.

‘I see. If Lord Vader doesn’t wish to trust the most powerful weapon in the galaxy, that’s his prerogative.’ His hands flew over the interfaces of control consoles as he managed the twin tasks of powering up the superlaser and maintaining the Death Star’s defensive weapons. The rebel ships were dropping off the sensors one by one, but their attack was leeching power from the laser.

Bast hesitated. ‘We’ve run the calculations, sir, and checked the trajectory of the rebel ships. They’re aiming for the thermal exhaust ports. There is a chance that they could destroy the Death Star. It might be best to ready your ship for evacuation, just in case.’

Tarkin snorted. ‘Courage, my dear general. We are standing on a battle station the size of a small moon, equipped with the finest weapons technology the Empire possesses. Once we show them the true might of the superlaser they will fall trembling before us.’ Besides, abandoning the Death Star during its moment of triumph would not be a reassuring image.

‘But sir—,’ Bast started to protest, just as a wave of percussive force swamped the control room and everything whited out. Tarkin turned to his diagnostic screens, searching for the problem. His consciousness slipped away just he started to register the flashing numbers before him.

///

The Starkiller lurched. It was remarkably similar to the sensation of going into hyperdrive in a ship equipped with the oldest models of inertial dampeners. Hux gripped the sides of his command console and barked an order to Engineering for a status update. He desperately hoped there was nothing wrong with the base.

When he turned around to survey the control room, he stopped short. An intruder was in the process of getting to his feet in the middle of the floor. He was dressed in a uniform that Hux instantly recognised as an old Imperial style. More important were the rank signifiers and the face, however. Hux’s mouth went dry. It was impossible. It couldn’t be…

‘Lower your weapons!’ he shouted at his troops. He winced internally at the way his voice cracked on the last word.

He strode over to the intruder and gave an archaic salute in the Imperial tradition. ‘Welcome aboard, Grand Moff Tarkin,’ he said crisply.

Tarkin’s hand had been lying casually on his blaster, ready to draw. Now he scrutinised his environment. His sharp gaze flicked over the insignia on Hux’s uniform, the rank signifiers and likely the sweat that was beading on his forehead. Tarkin’s hand dropped away from his blaster, but the sense of guardedness remained.

‘General, is it?’ he asked. ‘You seem to have me at a disadvantage.’

‘General Hux, sir. You… there must have been some sort of anomaly. This isn’t your time.’

Tarkin was silent for a long moment. ‘How far in the future is this?’ he asked.

Hux blinked. Tarkin was fast. How much could Hux say without giving away anything about the Empire? ‘Quite a while, sir,’ he evaded. ‘You’re among the successors to the Empire’s glorious legacy.’

‘I see.’

‘What was happening around you before this? What was the date?’ Hux asked. He tried to remember any rumours about unstable time-fields. There was no shortage of unsubstantiated tales about the ghosts of old battles being fought across deserted star-fields. There were even vague conspiracies about exploding hyperspace technology weakening the fabric of space/time. This was the first time Hux had ever encountered something empirically provable though.

‘It was the year one thousand after the Ruusan Reformation, if that means anything to you,’ Tarkin said.

Hux did the mental arithmetic, but it really wasn’t necessary. The date one thousand years after the Ruusan Reformation was 0 BBY, in galactic standard, though of course Tarkin wouldn’t know that. It was the year that marked the battle of Yavin and the rebel scum’s first major victory against the Empire. It was the year of Tarkin’s death.

‘You were at Yavin on the Death Star,’ Hux forced himself to say.

Tarkin inclined his head. ‘I see the date remains significant to this day. How far is that, exactly?’

Well, if evasion didn’t work against Tarkin, there were always other approaches. ‘I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to be discussing temporal matters with someone outside their time, sir,’ said Hux. ‘We don’t… we just don’t know the effects on space-time.’

Tarkin stared hard at Hux. ‘Very well,’ he finally said. ‘What do you propose?’

Hux was glad to have something he could actually address. ‘I’ll get what information I can out of our specialists in theoretical and applied physics. We need to determine if this is a temporary or permanent shift for you. Otherwise, well, I’d be honoured to give you a tour of our base.’

Tarkin gave a thin smile that held a mocking edge. ‘Lead on, general. I’m very interested in the innovations that the Empire’s… inheritors… have made since my time.’

Hux felt a surge of pride. It might not be appropriate to leave his post for something like this, but he was coming off a triple shift and was owed some downtime. Beside, this was the opportunity of a lifetime and he had no idea how long Tarkin’s presence would last. His subordinates were more than capable of running things in his absence.

Hux shot off a quick report to his physicists, asking about the sort of temporal effect the destruction of a Death Star could have, and flagged it high priority. The cohort of scientists that put together the Starkiller schematics had revolutionised the fields of hyperspace tunnelling and dark energy. They were the best chance for getting a useful answer about Tarkin’s situation.

///

‘The only way was to use a planet itself. Not only does this allow for an unprecedented size, but the magnetic field of the planet has been incorporated into the containment field.’

‘Interesting. What deals with the recoil from firing?’ Tarkin asked.

Hux was thrilled to be able to launch into an explanation of the systems that were in place to stop the base from shaking apart from groundquakes. Tarkin had analysed every bit of information Hux had given and asked incisive questions. It was a pleasure conversing with him.

Tarkin ran a hand across the panelling of the hallway. ‘I recognise a lot of the systems you describe. You’re not quite as far along as I’d expect, given that you have the resources to modify planets.’

Hux swallowed. ‘It’s true that containment and stabilisation systems are based on old principles, but the Starkiller itself is capable of firing a beam of phantom energy through sub-hyperspace near-instantaneously.’

Tarkin gave Hux a long look. ‘I’ve never heard the term “phantom energy” before,’ he said.

‘Phantom energy describes a type of energy that hadn’t even been discovered in your time,’ Hux said. He hoped Tarkin wouldn’t press him for details, as that was about the extent of his understanding of the Starkiller’s super-weapon.

‘Well, I won’t deny that the view is impressive when you’re standing on the shoulders of giants,’ Tarkin said.

Hux’s datapad chimed as he received an incoming report. He apologised to Tarkin, but checked the notification from the head of the theoretical physics department. The message was full of technical jargon and some old citations about temporal flux from ships that had exploded mid-hyperdrive jump. A lot of it was beyond Hux’s understanding, but the summary was clear enough. ‘Temporal wave function, unstable ghost-loop, expect anomalies to resolve 1-2 standard days.’

Hux stared at the report. He’d feared as much, but having it laid out made it more real. This wasn’t some ultimate action of the universe saving Tarkin from his untimely death. He would return to his time as if this whole incident had never happened. Hux read the next lines of the report. ‘Time-paradoxes unproven, but potentially catastrophic.’ Well, it wasn’t as if there was much that could go wrong in two days, especially since Tarkin would have no way of influencing his time upon his return.

‘Something the matter?’ Tarkin asked him.

‘My physicists believe you’ll return to your time in a day or two. I… I’ll have some quarters set up for you in the meantime.’

Tarkin nodded. ‘Thank you, general.’

Hux sent off a request for temporary officer-level accommodations before continuing his tour. In some ways the news about the anomaly changed nothing.

///

‘I hope these quarters will suffice during your stay, sir,’ said Hux.

Tarkin took a step forward into Hux’s space. ‘Thank you, general. You’ve been very… accommodating. I appreciate how much time you’ve dedicated, considering that I’m technically outside of the chain of command—that I technically shouldn’t be here at all.’

Hux swallowed. ‘It’s the least that I, that is, the First Order could do. Considering your position.’

‘Still,’ Tarkin replied, ‘your own position is quite high in the First Order’s structure. You could have easily delegated this to someone else.’

‘It wouldn’t have seemed right.’

Tarkin took a moment to survey his quarters. He spoke again while his back was toward Hux. ‘You know, I can recognise hero-worship when it’s been following me around all shift,’ he said casually.

Hux closed his eyes a fraction too long for a blink. In some ways it was a relief just to have it laid out like that. He summoned his courage. ‘I don’t see a problem with that. As you say, you’re technically outside our military hierarchy. The fraternisation code of conduct wouldn’t apply,’ Hux replied equally casually.

A part of him was alarmed at his own presumption, but a larger part realised that this would be his only chance, and regardless of how things turned out, Tarkin would soon return to his own time. And to his death.

Tarkin turned back to face him. He gave a thin smile and Hux’s pulse raced. ‘How admirably bold, general. What exactly are you offering?’

It was now or never. Hux went to his knees on the durasteel floor after only a brief hesitation. He hoped he hadn’t imagined that barest hitch of breath from Tarkin.

‘Well, isn’t this an old reminder from academy days. It’s practically nostalgic,’ Tarkin remarked. Hux’s breath caught and he shivered. He remembered his own academy days with mixed feelings.

Tarkin’s hand carded through Hux’s hair and tugged lightly. Hux felt the sensation flash down his spine and light up his nerves. His gaze flickered up, noting the bulge in Tarkin’s dress uniform, and the smirk that was curling around his lips. Hux’s breath came faster.

‘Go ahead, general,’ Tarkin said.

Hux debated asking Tarkin to use his name, but discarded the thought almost instantly. This was better. Something in him was craving the sense of military hierarchy. The fact that he was a step below the highest echelons made a slow heat curl in his gut.

‘Yes sir,’ he replied breathlessly. Tarkin’s hand tightened in his hair. Perhaps Hux wasn’t the only one enjoying this sense of rightful order.

Hux’s hands shook slightly as he undid the clasps and moved fabric to free Tarkin’s erection. Tarkin gave a long sigh and used his grip to pull Hux forward. Hux ran his tongue up the side of Tarkin’s cock, before taking it into his mouth. His eyes fluttered closed as he sucked, enjoying the hand in his hair and the heavy feeling of Tarkin’s cock on his tongue.

‘Put your hands behind your back,’ Tarkin said a moment later.

Hux’s eyes shot open. He hurried to comply, clasping his hands behind himself in an echo of parade rest. Tarkin dragged his head forward, leisurely forcing Hux to take him deeper. Hux relaxed his throat and exhaled sharply through his nose. It was just this side of uncomfortable and Tarkin’s cruel smile made it perfect.

‘You’re taking this well, general, but I’m a firm believer in testing the limits of capability.’ With that, Tarkin started to thrust.

Hux’s cock throbbed in his pants as the pace intensified. He could barely breathe and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Tarkin’s hungry expression. He was desperate to touch himself, even just to grind the heel of his palm against his erection to relieve some of the ache. Instead, his thumbnail dug into his palm and he uttered a low sound.

Tarkin’s sharp gaze didn’t miss any of it. In an act of dubious mercy, he shifted his stance to bring one foot between Hux’s spread knees. The toe of his boot pressed lightly against Hux’s cock, keeping the pressure carefully controlled. Hux shook. The threat and the friction combined into a single white-hot sensation that narrowed his entire focus to that point. A keening whimper escaped him, though it was muffled by Tarkin’s cock.

Tarkin groaned. ‘That’s it,’ he said. ‘You’re going to come like this—kneeling on the floor with my boot on your balls and my cock down your throat.’

Hux made another broken sound at that and rutted helplessly against Tarkin’s boot. Even that barest hint of friction was enough. He shuddered as came in his pants.

Tarkin was merciless and continued thrusting into Hux’s throat. The vicious smile on his lips never faltered for an instance and when he came, he pulled back just enough to spill over Hux’s tongue. Hux almost choked as he tried to swallow, the taste thick on his tongue. He fell forward to his hands and knees, coughing.

‘Thank you, sir,’ he croaked, the words rising almost unbidden.

Tarkin gave an appreciative hum. ‘It looks like you got a drop or two on my boot.’

Hux shuddered as a wild impulse seized him. He bent down further and swiped the drops from Tarkin’s boot with his tongue. When he dared to look up, Tarkin was wearing an approving smile.

‘That will be all, general. You have a base to run,’ Tarkin said.

Hux nodded, not quite trusting his voice. He got to his feet and made himself as presentable as possible. A trip to the ’fresher was most certainly in order. He gave one final salute, this time in the First Order tradition before turning to go.

‘There are worse legacies to leave behind,’ Tarkin said as Hux reached the door. ‘I think the Empire would have smiled on the works of your First Order.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ Hux replied. He wondered just how much the Grand Moff had deduced about the Empire’s trajectory, or even his own fate.

///

When Tarkin felt again the sensation of percussive force and the Death Star reappeared around him, everything was as he’d left it. The diagnostics screens still flashed red, the numbers climbing as radiation containment leaks and structural breaches worsened. In his last moments, Tarkin didn’t panic. He’d known his death was imminent from the not so subtle response of the Starkiller general about the date he’d given. More obviously still, he’d had no reservations about describing future technology.

The only thing that really irked Tarkin was the way he’d been unable to get a proper answer about what time he’d arrived at. Had the Empire actually fallen as a result of this battle? How long did it take for the Empire to resurge under new banners? How long had the galaxy languished without clean, brutal order? For all his disappointment in the technological advances, Tarkin hadn’t lied. The First Order did indeed seem a worthy successor to his legacy.

You are a beautiful person for writing this. Now THAT is Tarkin >:D
And actually the time-travel explanation sounds kinda plausible...And uhm yeah, hawt. Yup. This.

Thanks heaps for your lovely comment! It’s a delight to hear the smut was effective. Also, I am so glad the technobabble worked.

*drools*

My goodness, that was some excellent military kink. And spot on Tarkin voice.

Thank you so much! I’m particularly delighted Tarkin’s voice came through.

...and in a surprise twist, Tarkin vaguely remembered a bright eyed ginger cadet name Brendol being just as willing to serve him back in his own time.

Ha! Yeah, headcanon accepted for the sheer messed-up-edness. Thanks, anon.

Oh yeessss that was hot as hell.

And Tarkin knew how to use those boots, oh yes.

Thanks heaps! I often struggle with writing porn, so that’s very reassuring to hear.

*Begins slow clap*

So good, so in character and so original. Loved every minute. Would offer up baked goods to read about Tarkin degrading Hux even further, but this is exquisite as is.

Thanks! I really appreciate the feedback! Yeah, I lightened off on that aspect of the prompt, a bit. I'm glad you still enjoyed it, though, and in particularly found them in character.

OP HERE

Let me make a list of things I loved about this fic:

- Hux pointing out how convenient it is that Tarkin is outside his chain of command

- Tarkin's nostalgia for his "academy days"

- Hux getting turned on by being someone's subordinate

- Tarkin giving him orders

- is that a hint of boot kink? And I didin't even ask???

- Hux coming in his pants

Thank you for making all my dreams come true anon. <3

Thank you for the amazing comment, OP, and for your prompt! I’d been toying with this one for a while, and a lot of the military and boot kink content just seemed to come naturally to the pairing. I am delighted you enjoyed the fill and that I managed to hit some buttons :)

jesus, i didnt know there would be a pairing existing in SW that could sway me away from kylux, but your tarkin/hux..........
this, i mean , your tarkin voice as he said: you know, I can recognise hero-worship when it’s been following me around all shift,’ he said casually.

I think, i have spontanous combusted...

what a fantastic fill!
please say you will post this at ao3 so that i can rec, and bookmark and print and whatever!

I second the request for an AO3 post, if possible...So I can bookmark and keep track of it for later <3

Thanks for the vote of confidence! I may do this.

Thanks for the high praise, anon. I ship all the things, so I’m always delighted to promote weird left-field pairings. I’m so pleased you enjoyed this one. As for AO3, this fill's a little… ?heavier than some of my other cross-posts, but I’m seriously considering it given your request and the one below. Cheers!

hell's bells, but that is tarkin. A+ plot maneuvers to get us there. Also A+ on thirsty Hux, Tarkin being reminded of the academy, the BOOT STUFF, and making Hux put his hands behind his back so that Tarkin can fuck his face

Thanks so much for the reassurance about the plot devices! It was some very cobbled-together technobabble. I’m also glad the kink worked. I became surprisingly invested in both the military and boot kink by the end.

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PROMPT POST #3 - CLOSED

This post is closed to new prompts! Go here

Fill: Tarkin/Hux, Time-Travel

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