Absolutely no one wants that. So I'm going to post this like this…Nobody cares about 😉
[Headcanon] - Dating Orson Krennic [nsfw version]
• Everyone seems to agree on the beauty of his eyes. But his lips, his hands, good god, it's the promise of heaven for you.
• Krennic can be tender and cruel at the same time. Sometimes he strokes you for hours, bringing you close to orgasm just by touching you, sometimes when the pressure is too much to handle, he fucks you like he's trying to kill you (or rather kill every possibility that you can get off with someone other than him).
• He likes to hear you beg him to make you cum and would tend to delay the deadline until you go crazy.
• Knowing your fascination for his fingers, he likes to use and abuse them. The last time you toyed with his nerves by flirting with an officer sitting at the same table as you, he slipped those under your dress and stroked you to orgasm. (You justified your condition by an awful calf cramp. Dear…)
• He likes to remind the world that you belong to him, this includes marks on your neck, thighs and entire body.
• Krennic has a weakness for fine lingerie, he completely out of control when you wear a black lace outfit worn in the back by satin threads and a night gown. You know that you absolutely must wear it when he returns from his mission.
• He has sometimes let you control. Allowing you to climb into his lap and tease his lips with your delicious mouth, allowing his hands to explore your thighs and buttocks with ease. But his dominating instinct quickly returns to the charge.
• He loves whispering hot words in your ear as he comes inside you. Covering you with praise with every orgasm he gives you. He doesn't take his eyes off you, capturing every expression that distorts your pretty features as you rock.
• He used the last dress your ex gave you to wipe up the cum he had spilled on your belly. Then ordering you to throw this crap in the trash with all the possibilities that another man can replace him in your life.
• There is nothing more delicious for you than the pleasure it takes when you suck it. You have the feeling that he surrenders completely to you and gives you exceptional control. Nothing is more exciting than that moment when it makes you feel like you're at your mercy (and you love playing it).
• The ISB may have an entire file of all of your sex calls.
• Probably they all know by now that he likes to take you to his office and wants you kneeling on his lap when he gets home.
• You like to taste things out of his mouth. He sometimes dips his lips in alcohol to let you devour his lips and intoxicate you with the amber and sweet liquid that he shares with you.
Hiii do you have headcanons for dating Krennic? 🤔 tysm!!
Hey dear ! Thx for your ask ! Of course i try something... Hope you enjoy it !
[Headcanon] - Dating Orson Krennic
(Soft version - 😇)
Tw : maybe a little toxic relationship (but it’s krennic soooo…)
• There is a perpetual game between you about who cares more about the other. This is probably to make each other jealous.
• When you taunt him at one of those imperial soirees, joking with other officers, you count how many minutes he lasts before he comes over to you and puts a hand on your hips, glaring murderously at your interlocutors. Strangely, the last man you complimented in front of his eyes has not given any sign of life since.
• You love his scent so much that you stole a bottle from him to scent your sheets when he's away from you too long.
• Krennic knows exactly what you want. He always bets on everything he offers you and he particularly appreciates the fact that you always carry one of his gifts with you (a piece of jewelry, an accessory, etc.). He has the feeling of never leaving you.
• But when you wear one of the dresses he gave you, he struggles to keep his cool in public and is content to take you with him into the intimacy.
• Krennic likes control. It may therefore be that he monitors your communications and your movements when he has to be absent for a long time. When you found out, it took him months to be forgiven. (Actually just a few hours and nice words comes from his hot mouth).
• He likes to take you to parties. Because he is proud to have you all to himself, but also because he relies on your attention to pick up details that would have escaped him during an important conversation.
• You can spend the whole night telling each other Imperial gossip. You are also as good as him at extracting information where it is needed. It's probably that (and your undeniable beauty) that made him definitely fall in love with you.
• You are the only one who knows that he can smile sincerely. And that's priceless.
• Krennic was never good at true comfort. But if you are tormented or in difficulty, he will always make things work out for you.
• You hate Tarkin more than you should.
• You love his kisses. Especially when he kisses you in public, in front of all his women who will never have it. Reminding the world that you may be their property, but he's yours.
• Wherever he is, all you have to do is enter his field of vision and he only has eyes for you.
I had stayed for a good hour in the street next to the offices, devouring pasta that I had reheated in a hurry, as if their digestion could do the same to me with the events that follow one another in my life.
Gobbling them up without thinking, as my heart tried to swallow my emotions until it sickened. The smell of tomato sauce and spices mix with the stifling and bitter atmosphere of the capital. A feeling sent back to me by the city and which strangely made me think of Krennic.
This city was in his image: Cold, ruthless, acid, the infamous smell less, of course. He smelled good, as long as his smell still haunted me several days after he touched me.
When I couldn't swallow anything more, I resigned myself to returning to the office, thinking that my stomach was as full as my soul was empty.
Broken.
Martyred.
The tumult of the building left me indifferent and when I took the deserted corridor reserved for our service I was exhausted. Nervously, psychologically, emotionally. I couldn't take any more of all this unsaid, of all this blackmail, I was tired of being a puppet at the mercy of the Tarkins. To have had to sacrifice my ideas to satisfy values that do not belong to me. Then, suddenly, a violent shock brought me out of my torpor. I had just hit something as hard as a wall, but way too hot to really be one.
Krennic.
—What ? I groan at his piercing gaze. Now was not the time to get in my way. I didn't want to see him. Don't want to play. And it wasn't just because of the oath I had sworn to my grandmother and my father had just burned. Not just because of the shit Ellie was getting us all into while fucking with Thrawn.
But it was him. It made me mad with rage to realize the power this man had over me and I couldn't accept that anyone other than Father could afford it.
He remained silent, his shadow advancing towards me, forcing me back against the wall where my back crashed. He took his ranks from his pocket and slammed the plate against the identification window. A satisfied beep sounded and the elevator door opened to release my back from its grip, allowing us to step inside.
I was shaking, my legs were struggling to keep myself upright, and my heart was probably going to stop any moment now.
—Something wrong, Orson?" I say in a wavering voice. Because it seems to me that you got what you wanted and that was enough to move on.
He looked almost as serious as a death.
— It's more easier.
I blink. He wasn't drunk, not a single ounce of alcohol escaped his mouth when he blew against my forehead.
— Simple ?
— To be ruthless. To play. That's why they call me a monster. But people make me sick. Their looks, their contempt, their endless flow of absurd words. They like to listen to themselves, they like what they are when they have no merit, when they were born like that, whereas I...
If I opened my mouth now I was going to miss something very important, so I was so petrified at the thought of him getting discouraged that I almost couldn't breathe.
—That's why I hate them. They don't have a clue what it means to everything I do, everything I've worked for. So I play to survive. I play because I convince myself that they are no more valuable than me, and you, you...
Me ?
I wasn't going to know. Not immediately. But it wasn't necessary. He didn't need to tell me what I already knew. It took my breath away so much that I barely realized his hand was already unhooking the opening of my uniform pants. At that precise moment I couldn't push him away, I didn't want to, I never wanted to.
—I need to fuck you. he whispers in a shaking voice in my neck, pressing me a little more against the wall. That's all I think Vicky. You. I need it and it's messing up my existence, my galaxy, my head and especially my priorities.
—Do it. I moaned. My hand slipped into his pants to grab his dick. His erection was so strong it instantly took my breath away.
I wanted it too.
I needed to feel him inside me, needed him to make me forget the shit we'd gotten ourselves into. To forget that life was just a dramatic series of disappointments that bound together to form a pitiful tragedy. That was the reality. Him, me, Ellie, Thrawn, we were all entangled in a war machine that crushed our souls and we wanted more and more. We were instruments who had decided to do as we pleased, dreading the moment when we would have to fall into line for good.
Krennic turned to press the emergency stop button on the elevator and then lifted me up to allow me to wrap my legs around his waist. My mouth crashed into his, devouring all of the air that was trying to escape. I bit him almost bleeding, desperately, greedily. It was as if my life depended of his mouth and what he was going to do to me.
He devours me relentlessly, crushing my lips in a destructive kiss. He kisses me without stopping, lips, face, jaw and my closed eyelids. I was ready to die like this. In his arms.
Adored by the only motherfucker in the galaxy who could make me see the stars.
Beyond his pants, I tried to caress him, to feel his penis swell even more between my fingers and this feeling made me lose the little reason I had left.
— Please. Please…
—Please what? his voice was deep, and i can see desire in his eyes.
—Please fuck me.
He laughed nervously. I had never had to beg anyone in my entire life. No one had resisted me, no matter the area of my existence. Except my family, except them, so it was up to me to bow down and accept the obligations. I couldn't take it anymore and never thought I was going to fuck them off begging someone to fuck me. But it was Orson Krennic. And with him there was always that moment of ruthless resistance that preceded a destructive explosion.
— It is complicated.
He was right. No time, no resources. One bastard in the family was enough. Nothing that allowed us to be able to do it in the rules. But it was too late to back down, too late to tell him to stop touching and biting me like he was doing. He had already given me too much and I wanted more.
—I want you inside me, you can't, you...
— I have a solution. He said with a smile, kissing the corner of the lips. He pulled back and dropped me to his knees, pulling his cock out of his pants before grabbing my hair to bring my face closer to the tip of his glans. I finished pulling his pants down to his ankles and grabbed his cock with my hand before kissing the end.
My desire for him was so depraved that I didn't feel a shred of shame at the thought of anything I wanted to do to him. So I took it as far into my mouth as I could, covering it completely before sucking it like candy. My hand moved back and forth around his base as we were captivated by noises that were sure to drive him crazy.
— Crap. He whispered as he wrapped my hair around his wrist. I was still pinned against the wall as he moved back and forth in my mouth, losing his balance so much that he had to hold one hand against the wall to keep from falling.
—Why do I always come back?" Why are you controlling me like that? What makes you so irresistible to me? Fuck.
I had no intention of responding to him, picking up my brisk pace and when my tongue pressed against the tip of his cock, the salty nectar tickling my tongue drove me crazy.
—Touch yourself, or I'll have to deal with you real quick.
And I comply, like the docile girl I was for him. Too curious to know where this little game will take us. But when I plunged into the throes of a pleasure that I barely discovered that I was interrupted by several shocks against the wall of the elevator.
— Somebody there ? Maintenance Droid!
— Shit ! Damn droid! he growled half-consciously, clutching my skull to hold me down as he sped up and down in my mouth. Tears welled up in my eyes from his repeated thrusts down my throat, steadily intensifying a little more.
—Keep on going. Touch yourself and let go of my cock. I'm going to cum, Vicky.
Hearing it rumble above me sent a shiver down my spine. We were about to get caught having sex in an elevator in one of the largest Imperial buildings and I couldn't see myself explaining how Krennic's cock had ended up deep in my throat. Because this droid was going to come back, write a report and it was going to sink us both. I should be panicking, but the situation was so exciting that I wasn't sure I would stop even if the robot were to force open the door.
— I will cum in your mouth. He repeated like a litany. It was delicious to hear the tone of his voice twist under the effect of the approaching orgasm. He was at my mercy, vulnerable, he literally depended on my mouth.
—Someone here ? launched the droid again through the metal wall. Krennic punched the wall hard.
—Director Krennic and Chief Engineer Tarkin. Can't send us help instead of bellowing? He roared in anger. I almost wanted to burst out laughing at how absurd the situation was. His body was starting to shake and his legs were starting to falter around my fingers. He was close, as long as he stroked my cheek as if to ask my permission. I nod gently and it doesn't take more than a few seconds for a warm, thick liquid to fill my throat. I had done this before, swallowing as fast as I could so the taste wouldn't soak into my mouth, but not this time. I let it sink into me for a moment before swallowing it while touching myself.
— Shit. He whispered, grabbing me by the hair and pulling me up. I hadn't reached orgasm and I fully intended to. He presses me against the wall, my hand still firmly anchored in my panties.
—I want you, Vicky. Entirely. Tell me you'll give me anything I want when we're down and I'll make you cum before that droid comes back.
—No. I say in a placid voice. I'm not excited enough, I lied. And now that I know that droid is coming back.
—He won't come, you'll come. Here. Provided you promise me that your little ass will be mine soon.
I laugh like a drunk. I was drunk to him, his scent and the feel of his body against my sweaty skin. His fingers, which rested on mine to guide them between my thighs, which I spread even further, made me dizzy. His middle finger slowly slid over my lips and moved up to tease my ass before returning to my drenched pussy and I pursed my lips not to give him what he wanted right away.
—You are very quiet today. he whispers in my ear. My eyes met his before hovering above us, letting myself be carried away by the delicious feel of his hand.
—I thought that was what you liked. The silence.
—Not with you. You are not like others, you are like me, you hate this world in the same way.
—Liar. You love this. Wealth, opulence, glory. You feed on it.
— Error. I'm just playing the game to get myself a place of choice, little star.
—Did you just give me a stupid nickname again, Orson?
My muscles contract gently around his fingers. This way he had to guide me in my caresses was a pure delight and I was too proud to admit it.
—It's always better than Honey
— I like that nickname.
—Would you rather little star, or baby Tarkin.
—No.
—Keep kidding yourself. He digs his fingers deeper into me and I scream as I cling to him, his teeth digging into my neck as I explode around his hand. No. I'm literally shattered. It was as if he had just slammed me against a wall and shattered me into pieces so violently that I wondered if I would ever be able to fix myself for good. The tremor that ran through me was so violent that I felt like I couldn't breathe. Knocks sounded outside.
—Director Krennic? K5W and K9SA for extraction. Stay calm.
Krennic looked at me smiling. He was buttoning his pants while I was doing the same with mine, my cheeks flushed. My face ravaged by what had just happened. I was persuaded to carry his stigmata for weeks and I literally consumed myself from within. Yet, I had never been so relaxed in my entire life.
—They said to stay calm. He put a mocking smile on his lips. His breath hit my forehead and I chuckled against his shoulder. If those poor droids knew what they had just escaped.
—Physically, I've never been this good. But here, we have just entered a dangerous zone, Orson. An area where I have never set foot before. I swallowed, fearing that my frankness would give me away completely. But the serious expression that crossed his electric eyes led me to believe that he was immersed in the same torments as me.
— Me neither. But I'm not afraid of the unknown. And you too, baby Tarkin, you survived on Geonosis, this kind of hostile terrain shouldn't scare you anymore.
(Okay last post. My week end be so productive but i'm come back to work tomorrow and i have a big big allergic crisis actually. I'm feel a little anxious too so i try to forget it by writing)
Promp: During her sister's wedding, Vicky Tarkin loses her footing and plunges into deep disarray when she discovers that her sister is not marrying the one she loves. Krennic pushes her to her limits.
Orson Krennic POV
Orson Krennic
I had to do something. I couldn't stand there, watching her stare into space as her world was falling apart. It was as if she was dragging mine down to destruction and I couldn't allow her to mess me up like this.
—Dance with me.
She stared at me with her red lips parted, like those bug-gobbling creatures and even that way she was to die for. As silly as she looked, she remained so magnificent that there was not a treasure in this galaxy that could match her.
— Hurry up. I will change my mind and the list goes on.
— Bastard.
She still took my hand and allowed herself to embark on the icy marble of the ball. I placed my hands on her waist as gently as I could and let her hug me, resting her arms on my shoulders as if I was the only bulwark keeping her from collapsing. Her perfume no longer masked the smell of despair, but she still intoxicated me.
I was officially a lost cause.
— Talk to me. I dictated this invitation to her as an order, forcing her to move away from me to look at me with a surprised look. Her mouth was a constant call to crime and I had to find something to occupy my mind before ending this little party sooner than expected.
— These flowers. These are the same as the ones on your pin. Tell me about them. Why do you wear them all the time?
You couldn't miss them, her hair gathered in a bun was strewn with them. They were dispersed in the gold of her hair and the gold of her ribbon set with stones. She blinked, surprised that I noticed this detail in her suit.
— It is not I who carry them, but they who follow me. She pauses, painfully swallows her saliva as if it were a test to tell me what happened next.
—It was my grandmother's favorite flower. That was all. I learned with her how to grow it, it was in front of them that I cried when no one was listening to me, it was while picking it that I thanked her for having always been there for me. And it's also because of them that I'm telling you all this when you don't care.
— It's wrong. Why do you say they follow you ?
—Because it' s. They grow everywhere I go. Wherever I stay. They always end up sprouting.
— Where do the seeds come from?
— Bonadan.
I nearly choked on my saliva.
—You grew flowers on Bonadan?
She hesitates, aware that she has just told me much more than her reason dictated.
—I created an irrigation system that allows me to do this. Yes. I found a consistent way to fertilize the soil on a specific area of the planet.
I giggle nervously. She guesses that I am far from mocking her. Thats genius and that I'm far too proud and arrogant to tell her. Yet she seems hanging on my lips waiting for something like this to come out.
Herhands had slipped down my uniform and I hoped no one had seen the way we were touching. Part of me yearned for it though, as if to provoke the entire Tarkin family into their own turf. I guessed Eléanore's electric gaze above her tender little sister's shoulders and I was convinced that the only thing preventing her from intervening was that she would then have had to justify that she was hanging around the neck of the Grand-Admiral Thrawn instead of being at her husband's on her own wedding day.
—I will never get married.
—How arrogant you are. I spit caught off guard. And why is this idea popping into your head when you are just attending your sister's wedding ?
—Because it's all wrong. Everything is fucking fake. Them, her, everything. Have you seen her? Did you see the way she dragged herself down the aisle, the way he looked at her? Eh ?
— Everything is false. Baby Tarkin. Not just what's going on here, but the world around us. We too are vulgar counterfeits.
Exactly. Said her sparkling eyes. Her gaze was devouring me and I wanted to engulf her in mine.
—Is that why you never got married, Orson? That's why... Huh? You prefer the ephemeral because nothing has corresponded to what you dreamed of.
Exactly.
That was what she could read in me in the look she caught before I turned away from her. It was awful, but she had just exposed me with just a few words and a searing look. And she knew it. And she loved it. Her arms came around my neck again and it was just us on that trail. No one else mattered, the whole space could collapse, we stood here staring at each other like two predators waiting for the other to come charging. Two predators who wanted the other to jump at their throat.
—You're going to have to let me go. She had blown those words against my ear like a delicious breeze.
— Why ?
— Because if I stay here, I'm going to ask you to take me away from here and treat me like them." Exactly the same way.
— One day someone will set your heart on fire, Orson. It will bleed you as you bleed all of us and I hope that person revels in it as much as you rejoice in our sorrows.
Lyra Erso
----
🌔 INTRODUCTION
I wasn't there out of desire.
In truth, it was like that every time my father intervened in my life. As if he took a malicious pleasure in destroying the least of my plans, trying to keep me close like the ultimate card in his loaded game.
Or his prisoner.
Ever since I was able to walk, he has held me this way: by the arm, like an inmate being taken to prison. My prison is him, it's them, it's this whole family. And that's how I appeared that night, in this prestigious imperial palace, next to him and his powerful smell of cologne.
The bow that these officers pay him is indifferent to me. I know that father is a hero in their eyes, that he has been through things that he refuses to talk about but which constantly pushes him to adopt a protective attitude towards me. Sometimes I envy my two older sisters who seem to me much more free than me, then I remember that in their eyes, this almost violent attitude that he addresses to me testifies to the affection he has for me.
I decline the glass of alcohol offered to me, I can barely thank the waiter that my father is already leading me to the other end of the room, the black lace veils of my flying dress leaving behind me a cloud dark fog. I did not skimp on my outfit because it was an order: I am a Tarkin and therefore I am not allowed to leave things to chance.
However, I can't hide the pain that etches my features. My hair pulled back in a silver and pearl headband even highlights my dismay. I didn't want to be here and besides I have nothing to hold on to for some comfort.
Because it disappeared.
No matter how much I returned to my room, questioning my sister Alissandre, visibly exasperated by my terror, she remained nowhere to be found. Disappeared. Nothing can disappear from a drawer, from a bedside table, in one of the most secure houses in the empire. Her absence leaves my heart gaping literally and figuratively because this object was all I had left of her, her memory, the testimony of an ounce of humanity in our family.
But here I am, without it.
Lost.
A familiar face appears to me in the crowd. Cold, ruthless. My sister Eléanore stands by her boss and gives him a monotonous discussion, sometimes shaking her head in apprehension. She glances over at me and gives me a discreet wave to let me know she's seen me. This is the signal. The moment I choose to ask my father for permission to temporarily leave his control to join Ellie, to chat with my eldest who hasn't seen me for months.
—You look pretty, Vicky.
It's her way of greeting me. Affection is not part of our vocabulary and when we happen to feel a little of it, we order ourselves to contain ourselves.
—Did you denounced me?
Eleanor raises an eyebrow, her entire body completely oblivious to my accusation. My sister had, over the years, acquired the ability to conceal most of her emotions or to feign them excessively. It all depended on the situation she was in.
— You don't think I'd make it easy for Father, anyway?
My cheeks are hollow, compressing my anger that she does not deserve. I was wrong to accuse Ellie and I knew it. Although her position at the ISB allowed her to know what I was up to in my spare time, she could never have spilled the beans. Because if anyone in this empire had enough guts to thwart father's authority, it was her. Her Tarkin blood absolved her of all wrongdoing, but she didn't have enough of it to deserve any respect. An explosive cocktail that made her formidable. Although at first glance, she seems rather similar to the black lamb of the flock: starving, marked by countless tattoos that cover her arms and legs, but despite everything sublime with her steely gaze and her chestnut hair. Rid of my resentment, I realize how much her cheeks have sunk over the months, how her eyes are surrounded by dark circles.
Good God, what does the ISB do with her?
—Hard day ? She raises an eyebrow, amused by the fact that I speak to her as if we had seen each other the day before. Our last meeting dates back several months and despite this irregularity, Ellie is in my eyes the closest thing to a family. Sad irony when one knows that she is the illegitimate, the bastard and that one claims of me that I am the favorite of father. I love Ellie, even though we can't tell each other. She is the only one who understands how much I despise my mother, she is the only one who knows what lack of love means and does not judge my distress. So probably I forgive her for her destructive bent, the one that pushes her to put herself in danger in the service of the empire. Ransacking its health as it frequents the dregs of the galaxy, tasting every poison they infuse into their veins.
— It's relative.
I crack a smile. Part of me refuses to know what my sister is going through on a mission, undercover. A part of me does not accept that she lives it. However, I want to express my gratitude to her, the pleasure of finally seeing her again. But something, an evidence, my answer, captures my attention, literally cutting me off from the world around me.
It's there.
It is like no other and yet is on the bag of a stranger. The blue of the forget-me-nots pierces the darkness of the cocktail room, highlights the ivory of the leather on which it is placed. I can only see it, the silver that sculpted the delicate stems and leaves of the plant she represents.
My flower, mine and no one else.
—Vicky?"
I was no longer with her. I was there, my eyes glued to the flaming bag of the creature that had its back to me. She was sitting on a stool not far from the bar, a man putting his hand gently on her hips. This woman reeked of money and opulence from miles away in her dress set with crystals from the finest refineries in the galaxy. But nothing was as beautiful as what she wore on her bag.
I am impervious to my sister's concern. A dark anger rumbles inside me as my mind puts together the evidence that this brooch isn't on my chest. There is only one horrible, obvious solution.
Alisandre.
Shit.
—I have to leave you.
My throat bends with my rage and as I progress towards this woman I imagine various scenarios to end Alissandre once this case is settled. There is no other possibility for this object, my brooch, to end up there without my authorization. I weave through the crowd, keeping a reasonable distance from the couple and their peals of laughter. I notice that the man she is hanging from is dressed in a prestigious white uniform that vaguely reminds me of Colonel Yularen's – the cape added and the insignia totally different. I gravitate around them like a butterfly around a lamp, waiting to foment an approach strategy.
As I'm not the type to think very long, I take a seat next to this bitch who is too obsessed with the officer she's trying to seduce – and the alcohol that seems to have been flowing between them for some time now. – and decided to take action.
Damn it. It's not theft. It's mine, I think. And then, you have already done it, at worst his stupid guy will buy him another one. The coldness of the leather brushes against my thigh as she brushes her river of dark hair down her back, almost whipping my face vehemently. An eerie sensation ignites my shoulders, but I'm too enthralled by my fingers about to discreetly unclip the jewelry to notice. Meticulous, precise, and delicate, as I have always been, it only takes a few seconds – the blink of an eye even – for it to find itself in my hand, joining its rightful owner.
Well done Vicky! I think, containing my haste to clear off immediately.
I move away from this strange couple, noticing that I carry with me the spray of a powerful perfume mixing citrus fruits and noble wood. I grab a glass of water as I pass, hoping it will ease the bitterness burning in my throat. Alissandre can't have lied to me. Worse, she can't have stolen this brooch, her gift, to sell it to the first comer in order to meet the disproportionate needs of her bastard husband...
She can't...
I stop there in my rantings. A strong hand grabs my wrist, ending my ruminations and freezing me in place. I don't have time to flee that he has already immobilized me in this part of the room, which is nevertheless full, and despite the cacophony that surrounds us, I only hear the sound of his breathing. The feeling of deja vu materializes in the smell that surrounds me again, like a specter determined to haunt me.
Him.
He is there, towering above me. His white cape mingles with the veils of my dress that float in his direction, as if the world had ganged up on me. He corners me preventing me from fleeing and the coldness of the room slowly gives way to the warmth of his body. Surprised, I still try to contain his electric gaze in mine, taking advantage of the moment to contemplate the finesse of his lips and the smirk he draws there.
—It's not nice to steal something that doesn't belong to you. This is very serious.
I raise my eyebrows to hide the confusion of his warm voice sliding over me. Is that how he spoke to this woman in the hollow of her ear? Was he also giving her that kind of look that had nothing to envy to a consuming fire? Mockingly, he seems to want me to understand that the game ends here and that he won it hands down in all his arrogance.
He doesn't know who he is dealing with.
—Nothing serious. You will offer her many more and much more if I believe what I have seen.
I pause before blowing loudly. And anyway, it wasn't his. He giggles, his smile strikes me like lightning and if he wasn't containing me I could have thanked him for having served as a diversion during my maneuver.
— Oh yes ? But she was the one wearing it. What would your father do if he found out that you spent your evenings robbing the ladies of the empire?
I tick. Is my parentage in the Tarkin family so ingrained in my face? Maybe my father's possessiveness over me will kill me one day. It doesn't matter, it's not his presence or his rank that allows him to speak on behalf of my family.
—He would have you executed for slander. Now let me go or this conversation is going to end badly.
—Threats, baby Tarkin?" The gesture accompanies my thought. In a few seconds I empty the contents of my glass in the face of this man without the slightest warning. Causing the amazement of the world around us.
By what right does he dare to give me a nickname?
—No one is allowing you to call me that, or even touch me. You're lucky I didn't call the guards right away.
And instead of running away, i stood there, waiting for the slightest reaction from him, my heart pounding fearfully that his hand would hit my cheek. He was still holding the brooch and seemed to be wondering what to do with it to break me even more. I gazed at his face where a few drops of the water that I had just throw on his face were beading. His hair wavy delicately oscillating between grayness and darkness, accentuating the hypnotic blue of his eyes. Then with a gesture he detached the pin from the brooch and placed it on my chest, enclosing my heart in the depths of its yoke.
—What are you doing ?
A carnivorous smile twisted her thin, long lips. I had never been captured by a mouth and its movements so much and when he looked up at me again I felt like I was dying.
—I mark you. Baby Tarkin. From now on you and I are bound by secrecy.
I suppressed my urge to slap him. If he thinks to scare me by raising the specter of blackmail, he is kidding himself. The Tarkins fear nothing and no one.
Fuck him
Resigned to not making a scandal tonight, judging that I have already been noticed enough, I curse by addressing him a casual gesture before leaving. Something inside me is screaming at me to stay as far away as possible from this man and everything he's done to me in just a few seconds.
But nothing in my destiny seems to wish to be reconciled with my reason.
[Note: HEEEEY ! Hope you'll enjoy this first chapter <3 Thx for your comment, like and reblog.
For all the Krennic fangirls, I'm thinking of his perfume and... Bleu de Chanel seems to be the best for him. In this story, I was inspired by it.]
There are times in my life when you just have to stop me from writing. 🫣🫣
I'm little late so i post a preview for next chapters.
@alotofrandomfangirling, @fenharel-enaste, @starlady66, @lady-of-imladris
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~ O. Krennic
—We'll stop the bullshit. You first, telling your friends you've had enough to drink and going home. You're going to do it, seriously, otherwise your dear dad will be informed first thing in the morning of your little nocturnal follies. Bedtime is well past for children your age.
Hysterical laughter. It's so thunderous that even the music doesn't distort it.
—You know what ? Go put your dick back in Brenda's pussy and fuck off, asshole!
The communication cuts off, silencing my comlink before I have anything to say, leaving me with a deep nervous breakdown that agitates me.
I'm going to kill her.
Of course. How could I have been dumb enough to think that. Tarkin didn't send his younger daughter to me just to spy on me - if that was really the purpose - but to drive me crazy. And that's exactly what is happening: this degenerate gives me murderous impulses that I find it increasingly difficult to repress. You don't call people like that in the middle of the night by mistake, twice. You will have to take it now. I think, especially stating an excellent excuse to find out where she is and bring her back to her room by the skin of her back. Because it's a safe bet if I base myself on the voices around her that the outcome of this evening will put me in a bad mood if I don't decide to intervene.
--
V. Tarkin
Everything is perfectly fine.
My boss showed up at the East Plaza party after I mistakenly called him twice—and it's clearly not my fault that my best friend's name starts the same as that motherfucker's—. He planted himself in front of me like an asshole and I looked at him with all the anger that my wookie disguise still allows me before insulting him - and it was probably because he had never seen a wookie make an obscene gesture that he seemed so shocked -. Then, I agreed to follow him before he tussled with Erkani, and I went back in, but not without rubbing against his thigh, to warm him up on the way. I still feel the warmth of his hands on my waist and his warm voice telling me that he will never end up above me other than in an organization chart of the hierarchy.
Absolutely the opposite of what his body - and his hands - told me.
That's because there was probably more alcohol than blood in my veins.
Really, perfect evening, too bad I remember it so well.
Chapter prompt : After her argument with Krennic at her father's gala, Vicky must reconcile and finds herself in the midst of interesting proposals and facing a difficult and unsettling choice.
Content: Sexual Tension rising - Provocation - Jealousy stade one 😁 - Toxic trait.
The fear of seeing my father summon me to his office swelled in me as the next day passed. And yet, nothing came, to the point of seeing all my distrust extinguished and my shields lowered. But I had forgotten, with the months spent on Bonadan, his favorite tactic, which was to corner his prey when he was least suspicious.
—What are you doing up at this hour?"
His shadow had appeared in the door that connected our vast kitchen to his luxurious office. It was no earlier than four in the morning standard time, and I intended to set sail to join friends in an abandoned warehouse that once served as our epicenter for a whole host of illegal things. He must have anticipated my plans because he was wide awake and there was a gleam of sternness and satisfaction in his eyes that didn't bode well for me.
—Sit down.
I had tried to justify myself by presenting the glass of iced tea I was holding in my hand, but it was useless. Everything was superfluous with him and I knew that if I didn't carry out his request immediately I would end up in that chair that he was pointing to me one way or another.
—You should stop drinking this crap. He began as if to delay the moment when he would drop the ax on my head.
—It is beneath the Tarkins to enjoy the frivolities of such a drink. You need something more bitter.
— Yet you serve it to mother every evening when you are present.
—Your mother is not a Tarkin and the only credit we can give her is having fathered two. You will drink caf, is that understood?
I was silenced, unable to spit my contempt at him for his way of controlling our lives. Father is not a man without feeling. He just loves us in a radically opposite way to my definition of love. As for my mother, the time is long gone when I am convinced that there is an ounce of affection that bound her to father. Her lust for prestige and power has locked her into a loveless marriage and she needs a few doctor droids and a good dose of medicine to accept it.
—It’s good that we meet, because I have to talk to you, Vicky. About you and your situation.
—About my situation?
I raise my eyebrows. Until now, my situation had been of little interest to him. He let me work on Bonadan, hang out in the swanky spaces of Coruscant, and build racing ships to compete in illegal competitions. His impartial gaze told me, however, that tonight, party was over.
— Your teenage crisis has gone on long enough. He began in a monotonous tone. Your mother and I agree that at your age, you need a job and a function within the Empire.
It wasn't a teenage crisis. I put my skills to the service of people who needed them. I helped. But I knew that all these arguments involving compassion and generosity had no impact on my father.
—I work, father.
—It is not a job to tamper with parts to build useless ships. You're an engineer, Vicky, in aerospace. It' is high's time to put your skills at the service of the empire.
—And if I refuse?
The smile that split her lips sent chills down my spine.
—So you know there will be consequences.
He knows. I immediately think. He knows my traffic does not only involve my skills. That I serve friends, that I help them meet their needs while they are illegal. And I know my father and his determination well enough to know that all he has to do is snap his fingers and send them all to jail.
I was trapped, cornered, and yet unable to hate him.
Because I understood it. That in his eyes he was doing what was best for me.
—And what is the program?" I imagine you have already planned everything.
— Somehow.
He left a certain mystery hanging over him. A sort of annoyance veiled for a moment his impassive air and his features carved coldly in the marble of his white skin.
—I spoke to the Emperor just this afternoon. He is delighted to see you back here and remembers your intelligence well. So I suggested that he get you into the advanced weapons program.
Did I hear correctly? He wanted to get me into one of the biggest science machines in the empire?
—Advanced weapons?" You want me to build destroyers?
—Currently only as a maintenance worker. It is out of the question that you benefit from my notoriety to make a name for yourself. I forged mine in blood and sweat, so will you.
I laughed. Literally. It was so huge that I couldn't come to my senses. My father was lying to me, he had another idea in mind, an idea so Machiavellian that he was ready to humiliate me by making me pick up spare parts in a hangar in the name of the Empire.
— Where is the scam? Make your real request.
And he gave me everything I liked he gave me. His smile. Not the scornful one he gave everyone, but the one that went with his mask of pride. My finesse reminded him that I was his child, his last born and undoubtedly his greatest success. Even though he couldn't articulate it, I knew it whenever he thought of me that way.
—Last night I witnessed a very interesting scene involving you and Orson Krennic. A small household scene of which I did not miss a beat, just like all of my guests.
I wanted to bury myself six feet underground. If he had found out that I had stolen Grandma's brooch from someone else's purse, I was finished definitly
—You know who Orson Krennic is, right?
He tried to reassure himself. I wanted to answer him something like the worst motherfucker in the galaxy, but I refrain. Seeing my lack of response and the question mark in my eyes, he saw fit to finish me off.
—Your future boss, starting tomorrow.
—No way.
I leaned back in the chair, palms out, rejecting the bonds that were forming in my head. I categorically refused to be my father's instrument in any of his despicable shenanigans, especially if it involved the man on whom I had thrown a glass of water and whose gaze I had found very too magnetic.
—I'm asking you to approach him and work your way up the ladder to get enough clearance to meddle in his business.
— I understood better his fine speech on merit. My father is smart enough to know that a meteoric promotion of his darling daughter into the higher echelons of the program would titillate mistrust as to my true function.
—That will never happen. Don't you think it's going to be okay after what happened?
—Krennic is currently working on a project that I can’t tell you about, but which belongs to me. And he wants to take credit for it. I cannot accept that my work is taken over in this way and meddling in it directly is not an option.
I sigh deeply. Divided between the desire to insult him and to slap him. I was finished and I knew it because there was no one more determined than my father in this world and elsewhere.
—It will take me years to level up enough for you to spy on him.
—I do not think so, no.
— And why this ?
—Because I saw the way he looked at you. It literally took my breath away. This sentence. These words. As if suddenly my brain had decided to come back to him, to his impassive face and pursed lips. To the curls of his water-soaked hair that I slapped in his face.
—You are a perfect target for him. And it's up to us to make him understand that his methods can turn against him. What do you say ? —I don't have the skills to watch him, ask to Ellie.
—Ellie is currently in a situation that does not allow me to trust her.
I understand that he won't delve into the subject, but the annoyance I see in his eyes is indescribable. I don't know what's going on for my sister, but it really upsets my father and I don't want to be there when the lightning strikes her shoulders.
— I don't have the skills to keep an eye on this man.
—Yes. More than you think. I'm not asking you to seduce him, I'm asking you to be close enough to the circles of authority to steal information for me and I know it's up your alley, right?
I take a deep breath, digesting the mess I've gotten myself into.
—He will never trust me. Right now he hates me and it's mutual.
This simple statement could have convinced him. Yet when I get up to turn back and go back to where I came from, defeated and defeated by someone stronger than me, he holds me back, gently pushing his hand on my wrist.
—It's in your genes to despise Orson Krennic, Vicky, and be sure to harbor that dislike."
I bow my head. My gaze struggles to fix it for more than a few seconds. Father saw the way Krennic looked at me, but I don't know if he saw the way I looked at him.
And this terrifies me.
Doubt shoots through me and the unsettling conviction he's warning me seeps through my veins as I let his fingers slide down my wrist and step away from him without looking back.
***
I had every intention of catching up with my friends failling them the day before. What could be more normal, then, to invite them to a prestigious evening organized by Exquise? This Coruscant bar is reputed to be the most upscale in town and to accept only a handpicked clientele based on prestige and bank account. None of them could afford this kind of luxury and it was the least we could do to offer them access to make me forgive.
I had put on a simple black dress that came to my knees, its scoop neck stopping at the birth of my chest. My look was enhanced with black lace gloves up to the wrist and contrasted with my leather ankle boots that could have walked the floor of a mechanical workshop.
My hairstyle was nothing but a chaotic bun in which I had fixed a dark velvet ribbon and the brooch removed a few days earlier from the bag of the bitch who was strutting on Krennic's arm. I did not know where this animosity towards this stranger came from apart from the fact that she had, in good faith, bought a stolen object and I had decided not to think about it any more when entering the effervescence of the place. There reigned here a warm and moist atmosphere, a penumbra attenuated by the multicolored neon lights which danced at the same rhythm as the customers on an insane electronic music.
— Shall we sit down?"
I nodded to Erkani as he grabbed my waist and pulled me to a bench set back from the dance floor. Tall and imposing, his emerald gaze contrasted with the darkness of his hair and his tattoo-riddled skin. He had sent Saiyan to get us a drink and was taking advantage of this little alone time to make up for lost time.
— You are beautiful, Vicky, really.
We exchange a soft look. Erkani is part of the same engineering class as me, but specialized in mathematics. He's the closest thing I've had to a friend since I was a teenager, with a few added perks. Benefits we regularly bestow on each other as two desperate souls in destiny were clearly incompatible.
—I guess we have Wilhuff to thank for your absence yesterday.
I chuckle, my mouth hidden behind my gloved hand. The idea of him calling my father by his first name makes him the worst rebel in the whole empire. We do not discuss the subject further. Erkani being in a good position to know how uncomfortable discussing my family sometimes makes me feel uncomfortable, he rather prefers to tell me that we are now colleagues.
—I'm on Coruscant. Rather die than set foot on Geonosis and pray it never happens to you. he throws at me. The situation there is explosive and I'm not just talking about the natives. I wish he had told me more. Let me know in full detail what a mess my dad had just gotten me into, but Saiyan arrives just in time to take the ongoing conversation and add his two cents. Unlike us, she is not an engineer, but a scientist, which makes her an essential asset in the capital and she explains to me that she has worked on high-performance ionic shield formulas for larger surfaces.
We spend long minutes discussing this and that, including rumors implicating my sister in an adulterous relationship with a high-ranking empire officer. But seeing my ignorance, they refuse to provide me with the slightest detail and instead offer that we toast to our reunion.
It was then that the waiter came to place a glass of water on the table, right in front of me, as if it were for me, plunging my table into amazement.
—I didn't order anything. I said coldly, barely considering him. Do I have a head to drink water?
—It's offered
— By who ?
My head followed the gesture of his chin and my eyes landed on the bar, crashing violently into the electric blue of his gaze.
Him.
He was very busy. You could almost believe that he arranged for me to be in the front row of the pathetic spectacle he offers me. He wears a uniform, his high black leather boots and before removing his headgear to reveal his hair oscillating between darkness and greyness, contrasting with the electricity of his gaze and the mischievousness of his luminous smile.
It's not the same. I thought, scrutinizing the sublime beauty that hangs from his neck like one hangs from a rope. That was probably what she was doing by offering him her adoration. One of many on his long list of hopeless cases desperate for a little attention, money and sex.
Poor daughter.
—He says it's for the mess the other night and...
—Fuck that bastard. I said out loud without realizing it. I dodge Saijan's remarks about Orson Krennic buying me drinks and getting back to my business. At least I think so, because my eyes don't agree. I see his hand sliding down her spine, his fingertips teasing the bare skin she offers him and his lips so dangerously close to her ear it makes my stomach ache. My thighs squeeze together wondering what effect his touch can have and I'm practically sick of it.
I don't give in, refuse even to show him the slightest interest. Because I know it. I feel it. Despite everything that is happening, despite it being her body he is touching, his eyes are riveted to mine. Don't leave me, tracking down the slightest reaction that could betray my interest or my bitterness.
—Do you want another drink, honey?
Erkani leans towards me, whispers this proposal in a warm voice with a delicious accent. It was the opportunity I was waiting for, the one I dreamed of to give him the final blow. His arm rests on the back of the bench where we are sitting and I savor the moment when Krennic discovers it. I grab the glass he offered me and slowly put it to my lips and take a sip, crossing my legs under the table, knowing that from where he is, he doesn't miss anything.
What the fuck am I playing?
It doesn't take long for my friend to return with two glasses full of ocher, fizzy liquor. We toast, embracing our arms like an old couple after exchanging their vows and my eyes finally leave my main interest to dive into the emeralds of Erkani for a moment that seems to me forever and which was abruptly interrupted by a loud clearing of the throat.
—You're going to have to leave this table, young man. I have to discuss with miss.
His voice rumbles like thunder as his shadow looms over us, pulling me a little away from my friend and his hand too busy caressing my thigh. I may be a little drunk, but seeing him so close to me with such a somber expression on his face made me sober immediately.
—And if she doesn't want to?
—It s fine, Erkani. I handle.
I don't handle anything at all. My sitting position allows me to hide my trembling legs, but I am sure that my gaze and all that it betrays does not escape him. That he even loves it.
My friend gestures for me to call him if I feel the need and gives in to Krennic's blatant authority, who doesn't wait another second before sitting down.
—Nice brooch, baby Tarkin.
I want to slap him. Bad idea to start on a good professional relationshp.
—You have nothing better to do than taunt me, Orson?
—It’s Commander Krennic, but okay, I’ll settle for a thank you for the drink tonight.
—I'll call you whatever you want when you stop giving me stupid nicknames.
He chuckles, gestures to the waiter to serve us a round, placing his hand on the file just behind me. As if he definitively asserted his authority and his property. Bad idea, he will quickly understand that I am not a trophy.
—It's too bad you take it that way, I'm here to talk business.
— It must be very important if you have abandoned your evening pastime.
My words betray my contempt and arouse his amusement. This is shit. I really look like a poor girl.
— I am sure that my proposal will interest you.
—I'm not sure I want to hear it.
He lifts his glass to his mouth in such a slow and delicate way that I'm sure he's doing it on purpose. As for me, I remain hooked on his eyes and his proposal, mustering all the good will in the world to refuse it pronto. I'm almost ashamed to admit that being born Tarkin doesn't make me immune to his confusing magnetism.
—I heard your father was offering you a place in the Advanced Weapons Project, a place that doesn't suit your qualifications. I have other things for you, much more interesting. I blink to hide my surprise. Of all the possibilities considered, he chose to surprise me. —Are you bypassing my father's decision?
—I run this program, no matter what he think.
— Really ?
I barely hide the irony of my question, bursting into a laugh so powerful that I almost spill my drink. He turns his head away, pursing his lips sourly. It upsets him and I realize that hurting his ego is more exquisite than any candy, than the sweetest revenge.
— Why offer me a job when you don't know my skills?
—You're a Tarkin, isn't that enough to assure me of the quality of your work?
— My skills are not limited to my name.
— Really ?
He laughs, I focus on the contents of my glass in which I dip my lips, taking care to lower my eyes to better return to the charge.
—Which post ?
—Workshop chief.
—Workshop chief ? I repeat in disbelief. It's five grades above what my father offers me. My surprise seems to please him even if he compresses his jaw not to show me his satisfaction.
—You become a team leader, as an engineer that’s the minimum.
—In which unit?
— You will have to oscillate between Geonosis and here, it will allow you to change air when the need arises.
I digest the information, trying to hide my confusion in alcohol. I don't know how he manages to do this, but his offer is exactly what I need, what I'm looking for. It almost tastes like an escape.
—Geonosis is the planet you work on, isn't it?
It's his turn to raise his glass to his lips. He winces at the way I point out this detail to him and that's when I notice how the distance between us has shrunk considerably. I gave him ground without even realizing it.
—We may see each other there often and share our shuttles.
—Are you keeping an eye on me?
He doesn't respond immediately. Just batting his eyelashes at my hands hovering over the table. I have the impression that he wants to ask me which of us is going to watch the other and that he abstains, too amused by the little game that is taking place between us.
—I want to see what you are capable of.
—Let's be clear: I'm not the kind of person you buy, Orson.
On the other side of the room, his previous guest is staring at us with an evil eye. Krennic's head is tilted so hard towards me that he could kiss my neck and touch my shoulder with his fingertips. I don't know why I don't push him away, stay in his embrace and let my foot stick to his leg, my thigh pressing against his. In a final act of pure provocation, I see him grab my glass and put his lips to it to take a sip. I don't miss a thing of the show. The way his mouth envelops the crystal and hugs its shape, inviting me to imagine he's only doing this to give me a glimpse of what he might be doing to my own body.
—Oh, i know that. You're priceless, baby Tarkin.
I gently snatch my glass from his hand, brushing the lace against the leather of his gloves. Our eyes haven't been able to break contact for several minutes and his breath hangs on mine.
—She's getting impatient. I whisper, looking down, trying to put my lips on my drink exactly where he left the trace of his. I guessed the superhuman effort he had to make not to tip me over on this bench, because it was exactly the one I imposed on myself so as not to beg him to do it.
—Do you accept my offer?
— I'll think about it.
I whispered it so close to his mouth that my lips could have touched his effortlessly. But I had to leave before I ended up on his knees rubbing against his thighs, begging him to put an end to this desire that was bubbling in me, signing my death and my banishment from the Tarkin family.
—I'm not very patient, baby Tarkin.
—Well, time it's come for someone taught you how to be, Orson.
And I pulled away from him, as if to escape from an uncontrollable current that is dragging me into chaos. I don't know how he reacted to my running away, but he didn't try to catch me, or even order me to come back and sit with him. I was convinced, when I joined my friends, that I had already accepted his proposal a long time ago. And I didn't like it at all.
