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hottpinkpenguin · 1 year

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

Hope you’re having a lovely day! 💜

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

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

18+ ONLY - MINORS DNIi

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Orson’s ice blue eyes narrowed at you.

Seizing on his silence, you pressed on.

“I didn’t betray the Emp-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded feverishly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My jacket?” you asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My eyes. They stay on you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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fenharel-enaste · 11 months

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Just got another idea for a Krennic x reader fic that I won't stop thinking about for the rest of the day, ajdhwudkw On the other hand I'd like my brain to just let me work on my current wips tyvm 😂

#personal #director daddy #orson krennic #director krennic #star wars

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sweettee18 · 10 months

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A request for @enaelyork

Star Wars Imagines #7

Epilogue to (Giving Love A Chance)

A New Addition

It has been two years since Krennic and Rosalie been together. Now married, Rosalie became excited and worried when she gets good news from the medical droid and bad news from her godfather, Tarkin.

Rosalie and Krennic have now been married for a year. Everything was going well for her until one day, she started feeling very sick. She immediately checked herself into the medical hall to get looked at to make sure it wasn’t serious. As she waited for the results from the medical droid, her godfather walked in to check on her. “Are you sure everything is all right?”, he asked with a worried look on his face, even though he doesn’t show his emotions when he’s out in public, but when he’s with his goddaughter, he lets himself go.

Rosalie looked at her godfather and said, “I’m fine, it may be a stomach bug. Who knows?” The medical droid, 7C-27 walked in with clipboard in his mechanical hand. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” Rosalie shook her head. The droid continued. “Well, I’m glad that your godfather is here, because the cause of your vomiting so much is that you are experiencing morning sickness. In other words, you’re expecting your first child.” Both Rosalie and Tarkin looked at the droid with the confused expression, then looked at each other. “Morning sickness?” Rosalie asked. “Expecting?” Asked the governor. The droid replied, “Yes, not only you are expecting, but you are 16 weeks long.”

Both of them had the look of shock on their faces when they heard how far along Rosalie is in her pregnancy. “Congratulations.” the droid said, as he walked away. Tarkin looked at Rosalie and hugged her. As soon as they broke the hug, Rosie looked up at her godfather, “Is there something you wanted to see me about godfather?” The governor looked at his goddaughter with worry, “there’s something that you need to know about, and it’s not going to be pretty when I tell you…” “Well, what is it?” She asked.

Governor Tarkin took a deep breath and said, “Thatcher is on his way here to see you.” Rosalie rolled her eyes in annoyance. “For what?” She asked. “I’m not sure, but I will tell him you’re not interested.”He said, which calmed her down. “ Now, you mustn’t worry, I’ll take care of everything. You, however, need complete rest.” He said as he ushered her out of the room.

Later…..

As Rosalie was getting herself ready for bed, she thought, “What am I going to tell Krennic? The good news or the bad news?” Her thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of the doors swooshing open and Krennic walking toward her. He grabbed her and hugged her tightly as she returned it. “Love, you’re squeezing us too hard.” She said, feeling constricted. Immediately, he broke away, got down to her stomach level and began to kiss it repeatedly.

“Oh my little one, I can’t wait to meet you.” He spoke into her nearly noticeable abdomen and looked up at Rosalie. “And I’m pretty sure little Krennic can’t wait to meet you too.” She said with a smile. Krennic got up to his full height and kissed her ever so gently on her lips. As he was holding her, the intercom began to beep and an officer said. “Director, you better get down here at the hangar. There’s an issue that has taken place.” Almost immediately, Krennic and Rosalie sighed in frustration and looked at each other.

“Don’t worry, I will get to the bottom of this. You stay here and rest.” He kissed her one last time before leaving. As he was, he looked down at Calcipher, who was lay in his bed. “ I’m in need of your assistance.” Krennic said to his with a smirk.

Later…

“I will not tolerate this one bit. So I will suggest you make this easy and you leave this instant.” Tarkin said to Thatcher as he was doing his best not to lose his temper. “I will leave when I speak to Rosalie….” Thatcher didn’t finish his sentence when Krennic entered the hangar with Calcipher…. In his chimera form. He was the size of a T-rex, but with fur. “My apologies, but my wife is unavailable at this time or any time you request for her.” He said as Calcipher could be heard growling. Thatcher never thought chimeras could get that big, but now seeing one up close, he thought he wet himself. But Thatcher was shocked to hear Rosalie got married, but Krennic didn’t tell him that she was pregnant. “WIFE?!?”, Thatcher asked in shock. “Yes, do you have a problem with that?” Krennic asked. But Thatcher snickered.

“You obviously believe you can scare me with this big ball of….” He didn’t get a chance to finish when Calcipher got up close and personal….in his face as he snarled at him. “ I did mentioned earlier that Rosalie did have a little bite to her personality.” Tarkin warned Thatcher as he walked closer to him as placed his hand on Calcipher’s head.

“Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way…”Krennic said as he walked Thatcher with a warning in his voice. “…One: You’ll get back on your shuttle and leave, or Two: you might as well be Calcipher’s new play toy?” Thatchers’ eyes grew so wide that they felt as if they going to pop out of his skull. “ Very well then…” he said feeling defeated. “….I will leave, but this isn’t over.” “ You ever go near my wife, your ex, I will kill you myself.” Krennic said through his gritted teeth as he too got close to his face the same way as Calcipher did it. Thatcher immediately stepped back, went into his shuttle and flew off into space.

Rosalie stayed up waiting for her husband to come home, worried something had happened to him. Before she could get out of bed, Krennic walked in just in time to see Rosalie getting up. “Ah ah ah, get back in bed, sweetheart.” He walked over to her side tucked her in.” What happened?” She asked, but he didn’t answer. He walked backed to her side got in bed beside her, while still in his uniform. He pulled her close to him, with one arm wrapped around her shoulders and the other on her stomach as he whispered to her, “I’ll tell you tomorrow. But for now I want you to rest. You both have a long journey ahead you.”

As he said this, they both felt the baby kick. He leaned up and looked at Rosalie, who was smiling in her sleep. He smile at her sleeping form as he laid himself back down and closed his eyes.

Five months later, Rosalie gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, who they both agreed to name him Oliver Howard Krennic. 8 pounds and 8 ounces. As Krennic held him in his arms, he felt his heart skip a beat. “You have your mother’s eyes.” He said to his son as Rosalie laid in bed, resting after feeding him. He was two days old when Tarkin came to visit his god grandson. “But he has his father’s features.” Krennic agreed as he handed Oliver over to him.

“How is she?” Tarkin asked. “She’s fine, she’s sleeping. She did great.” He replied. Tarkin looked at Oliver, handed him back to Krennic and said, “Take good care of them.” Krennic replied, “I will.”

Hope guys enjoy this story. Like and comment. Have a great day. 😊

#starwarsfan #star wars fanfiction #director daddy #Krennic x reader #wilhuff tarkin x goddaughter reader

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bizarrelittlemew · 21 days

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*slaps roof of movie*

#boy 2010 #boy (2010)#taika waititi #ida.stuff #watch this movie. then watch it again with director's commentary to witness a whole new dimension of daddy issues #it's incredible i promise #happy taika tuesday i guess

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notafunkiller · 9 months

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sweet nothing

Summary: Bucky and you attend an awards show, but an interviewer makes sure to ruin your night before it even starts. The loss of your project makes you have a breakdown when you get home, and Bucky does his best to comfort you.

Pairing: director!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader

Warnings: 18+, age gap (r is 24, Bucky is 36), teasing, dirty talk, language, pet names, fingering, oral sex (the reader receiving), clit play, come eating, a little metal arm kink, daddy kink, no condom (but they are both clean and the reader is on birth control), no mention of y/n

Word Count: 4.2K

story masterlist

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: Bucky’s look is obviously inspired by Sebastian’s appearance at D23 Expo in 2022. Also, this happens a few months after the second part, in October.

An extra thank you to @marvelouslizzie and @lavenderhaze967 for being my beta readers and for the endless support.

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

You really can’t decide what to say. The remark came so unexpectedly, you were taken aback.

You don’t know how they knew about your vacation. The photos and some false info were spread all over the internet, and you found out only after you came back home.

You expected things to calm down from July until now, though, but they didn’t. They actually became worse and worse. But despite that, you didn’t even think you were going to get this type of comment tonight, especially since you announced you refuse to talk about your personal life. You should have known better… Bucky was right, you can never trust the press and you should never have expectations.

“Even though this has nothing to do with tonight and I said I won’t talk about anything related to my personal life multiple times...”

“I wasn’t-” The interviewer tries to interrupt you, surprised by your cold tone, but you don’t let her. If they want to speculate, then at least you can let it out now. They can do whatever they want after.

“To make things clear, Mr. Barnes is actually one of the most professional people I’ve ever worked with… one of the best: kind and supportive, and he always gives the best feedback.”

“Miss-”

You ignore her once again, raising your hand to stop her. “He is blunt, honest, and hasn’t been anything but professional the whole time. He made a massive contribution to the film industry and he’s been in the public eye for so long... If you had done your research, you’d have known how everyone, especially the women he worked with, talked and talk about him.” You take a deep breath, trying to keep your composure before you look straight at the camera. “Also, no, I did not sleep with him or anyone else to get any kind of role. Thank you!”

You don’t realize how much you’re shaking or how many tears you were holding back until you reach the bathroom. You’re thankful Bucky is inside already. He doesn’t deserve this shitty attitude, and you know he would have made a scene and stopped this on the spot if he’d witnessed it.

So you don’t tell Bucky about it, not wanting to give him bad vibes, especially since you know how he already feels about going to events in general. Your table is full when you get there: a part of the cast and the crew along with Bucky’s manager. Natasha couldn’t come this time, but you know everyone, so it’s better than you expected.

“Wine?” Bucky asks you softly, leaning in so only you can hear him.

“Later, please. I have a small headache.”

“Oh, no, baby.” He kisses your forehead as soon as you finish talking. “Do you need a pill?”

You love how he never hides or tries to keep his distance when you go out together. Maybe it’s nothing much after all, but you know how discreet he is, how much he values privacy, and it makes you truly feel a part of his life.

“Don’t worry, it will go away.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, yes.” You brush it off with a smile, and he nods, unsure, getting back in his chair properly.

You can’t let your emotions eat you alive, anger or nervousness... you just can’t. But it’s easier said than done because time passes so slowly until your categories are announced. Not even joking around with Bucky’s manager helps. She has such amazing vibes usually, but you are too deep in your thoughts to fully embrace them.

By the time the nominees in your category are announced, Bucky gets you all ice cream, making sure they put two spoons for you: one with chocolate and another with biscuits. It’s so delicious, but you instantly stop eating when the small video with a few of your scenes is projected. People around you clap loudly, but you can’t look around much, your cheeks so flushed when the camera stops on you again. Bucky even whistles using the index and middle fingers of his flash hand, which makes you giggle. He’s so cute!

“And the winner for Best Actress in a Drama is...”

It’s like the world stops for a second: the tension, the lack of air, the ringing in your ear... you can’t hear anything. But you can read body language and see everyone’s shoulders falling. You don’t dare to look at Bucky, only smiling in joy for whoever won and trying to hold back tears. Every woman on that list deserves it. They are all fantastic. You aren’t upset because someone else won. You just feel like a failure because you lost. It’s like you disappointed the people who care about you, who took a shot with you. Bucky... who saw something in you and risked it. You know how silly it is because he isn’t the type of person who would even think that, but you can’t just control the train of thoughts that keeps overwhelming you.

“I’m so sorry, baby.”

You still can’t look at your sweet, comforting Bucky. Fuck, such a crybaby... You just nod and take your spoon with your right hand so you can have more ice cream.

He better wins!

The movie loses shortly after you, and it’s your turn to comfort him. You don’t pay attention to the camera focusing on you or Lucas tapping on his arm in a consolation gesture when you turn your face toward him and kiss his cheek. “I’m sorry, bubba.”

He melts instantly under your touch. “Don’t be.”

But how can you not be? It makes your insides burn. This man you know so well professionally and personally deserves every fucking award this industry has. He is fantastic! The movie was fantastic, too.

The urge to cry takes over you the moment the winner of the best director category is announced, but it’s not Bucky. And you think he senses it because he squeezes your thigh gently to assure you. You…

You cannot believe this.

You have a bitter taste in your mouth for the rest of the night there, which is short since Bucky suggests leaving earlier. You hate awards ceremonies officially, too.

The car ride is no better. You find it harder and harder to hold back your tears, and the last thing you want is Bucky to see. He asked you if you were hungry, and asked you to stay over at his place. How could you say no? No, Bucky, I want to go home and cry angry and disappointed. You spend most of your nights at his house anyway, so it would make him worry. Especially since the distance to your apartment is longer.

You let a deep breath out when he closes the door, turning on the lights as you start to take off your shoes.

“Home sweet home.” He gives you a tired smile.

“Ihm. Finally.” You don’t trust your voice to say more than that and you let your bag and phone on the small table before going straight to the kitchen.

“Next time we’re invited, we ditch to watch a movie or something and make love.”

His words are enough to send you over the edge somehow. When you hear his footsteps closer, you instantly turn around to face the sink, grabbing the kitchen counter in an attempt to hold back the tears. But it’s so hard…

“Baby?”

Fuck, he’s so close.

“Bubba?”

And that’s all you need to burst into tears. But you’re not just crying, you are fully sobbing when you feel his arms wrapping around you.

“Bubba, breathe, please.” He rests his head on your shoulder, and you feel so naked, so bare in a way... Something you feared for so long. You are vulnerable in a way you only let your family see you, not even them maybe. It’s like you’re giving him access to your inner child. And it’s terrifying.

“I-I’m ss-sorry.” You are gasping for air between words, and this makes you feel even worse. You sound so pathetic.

“What are you sorry for, bubba? Focus on breathing, please.” Bucky’s voice is so calm and soothing, you almost let yourself fall into his arms. You can’t believe this safe sensation you feel. It’s shocking to you. You trust him to hold you and comfort you even when you look this deplorable.

“In and out.” You breathe in and out every time he says the words and it slowly becomes easier; the air doesn’t feel like it burns your lungs anymore.

You feel his kisses on the back of your head. “Good girl, perfect. Just like that.”

You open your eyes as soon as your body stops trembling and turn to him instantly. You probably look like a wet raccoon, but you don’t care. You hug him so tight you wonder if he can even breathe. But you can’t let go.

Bucky’s glad he took off his jacket since the zipper would have hurt your face.

“I’m right here, not going anywhere.”

“I’m ss-sorry,” you say weakly, taking a step back. “It’s just so unfair!”

His whole face softens even more. He understands... your first nominee and your first loss. This is never easy, especially for someone ambitious and talented.

“I know it hurts, but I promise you more will come, and they will finally give you the awards you deserve. You were amazing.” He takes your hands into his and brings them to his mouth.

“It’s not about me!”

“What?”

“You deserved to win!” You can’t control the anger in your voice. “This movie, the whole concept, the team... Maybe it’s because of the way I-”

“Stop right there! You have nothing to blame yourself for. And you don’t have to feel bad for me, okay, bubba?” His mouth finds your forehead. “Of course, it bothers me a little, but these awards come and go. Sure, some bring more opportunities, but I don’t give a fuck about it. You were a fantastic lead. You are fantastic! But I promise you, you will get more awards because you deserve them. I was mad for you. Don’t worry about me, alright?”

“But you deserve it!”

“It’s just an award, baby. I am proud of this project and of everyone who was a part of it, especially you. It wasn’t easy and it was emotionally draining.”

He wipes your face, and you curse. You should have worn waterproof mascara.

“I just don’t...”

“Don’t ever blame yourself again.” He pauses. “Actually, you will because you can’t control that, it’s not a switch. What I mean is don’t try to hide from me, don’t let the thoughts overwhelm you before talking to me. Or someone... anyone: your sister, your mom, Natasha. I just want you to know I am here for you.” He kisses your lips shortly. “I got you, and you got me.”

He barely has time to finish his sentence before you grab his face and kiss him, your tongue immediately licking his bottom lip. It’s something about the way he reacted, about his permanent attitude and the way he looks that makes you dizzy. So dizzy that you easily switch from feeling anger and fear to sexual desire.

You keep kissing him until you two can’t breathe anymore. He’s so sweet, so good. You can’t help it...

“I want to suck your cock.”

He opens his eyes instantly.

“What?”

“Want to take you inside my mouth. Now.” You repeat with such urgency that his shock is increasing.

“Wait, you don’t have to-”

But his words die as your hands are already on his belt, taking it off in seconds. When it loudly hits the floor, you unzip the pants, dragging them down along with his boxers with force. So much force he gasps.

“Please, daddy.”

You drop to your knees in seconds, making sure to properly grab the base before leaning in to kiss his wet head.

“Jesus!”

He has to grab the kitchen counter behind you to stand still.

“Just me.” You smirk a little and take more of his cock inside your mouth. He’s getting harder little by little. When you start to move your hand , though? He finally gets in his usual horny mood, understanding you really want this.

“Fuck, look at you! On your knees just for me. So needy!”

You moan, bringing your left hand to his balls as you start to bob your head. You just want him to come.

“Baby, please. Fuck me!” He groans, and you suddenly feel your hair getting pulled hard as if he’s trying to get you away from his cock. You stop sucking just to snap:

“Why are you taking my cock from me?”

“Because it wants to be inside my pussy.”

You snort.

He helps you stand up and kisses you without any worry. You moan when you feel his hands on your breasts, then to your sides, and before you can even say anything, you hear the sound of the material ripping.

“Hurry up!” You complain, waiting for him to finish undressing you as you keep kissing his neck.

Your bra and underwear are next and you can’t believe how free you feel.

“You are so fucking beautiful!”

“Need you, please...”

He nods, immediately lifting you in his arms, and you don’t stop kissing him until your back hits the bed.

“How do you want me?” You ask, and he frowns.

“What do you mean?”

“Position, Bucky.” You try to clean your face with the back of your hand as you wait for his answer.

“We can start like this.” He gets between your legs and lifts them on his shoulders. His hair is messy, all over his forehead, and you giggle, brushing it away from his eyes.

You’re so wet he gets inside you in one movement, and you both moan. The fullness is so good, you arch your back. Sex with Bucky will never get boring, you are sure of it. He’s a perfect combination between caring, desperate, and curious.

“Bucky!”

“Yes, bubba, I’m here.” He kisses you as he starts to thrust. “I’m right here.”

Your legs are wrapped around his ass, pushing him inside you harder every time he pulls almost completely out.

“God, I love your cock so much!”

“Just that?” He pouts, making you laugh. He’s a baby and a daddy at the same time.

“I love you, bubba, you know that.”

“And I” thrust “want” thrust “to hear” thrust “it again and again.”

“Fuck.” You close your eyes, turning your face to the side without realizing.

“Eyes on me, doll. Eyes on daddy.”

“It’s hard...” you cry out, even more turned on by him calling himself your daddy. It fits him so much!

“Fine.” He uses his metal arm to turn you around on your tummy.

“Bucky!” You scream because of the sudden movement and the empty feeling since he pulled out.

“Hands and knees since you don’t want to look at me.”

You shake your head, amused, but you get in the position, raising your ass as much as you can. You love when he fucks you like this. Everything feels deeper, and there’s no distance despite the fact you can’t properly see him or kiss him. “So dramatic of you.”

You flinch without realizing when you feel his palm connecting with your ass cheeks.

“Does it hurt?”

“No, no.” You quickly assure him, looking up when you hear his worried tone. He never spanks you too hard, and the amount of strength he uses makes you enjoy it. It always makes you wet. “Just didn’t expect it.”

“Good.” He kisses your forehead. “Ready?”

“Hurry!”

He quickly gets inside you as soon as you finish speaking, and you gasp. It takes your breath away, but you can’t help but wiggle your ass. His hands grab your hips and he finally starts to literally pound you just the way you both enjoy it. His cold metal fingers feel so good.

“B-Bucky!”

“Do you love it, baby?” You hear him, but you don’t understand how he expects you to answer. You can’t even breathe properly.

“Ihm.”

“Fuck, you’re so wet around me. I love you so much.”

You try to tell him you love him back, but the words are so distorted you give up.

You’re close already.

“Are you gonna come for me? Are you gonna be a good girl and let go? Make daddy prouder?”

And just like that, you come. You don’t hear anything anymore: you can’t distinguish the words, only his voice. You feel so good, so light, that you don’t realize the wave of tears that hits you.

Bucky smiles, knowing these are from so much pleasure, and doesn’t continue to thrust much until he comes inside you. You moan again, encouraging him to fill you. To give you as much come as he has.

“Yes, yes. Please, need your come.” And you know he loses his mind every time you do that. “Please, daddy.”

A few seconds later, you feel him move his hands.

“Fuck me, baby, this was incredible.”

You nod, trying to find your words again.

“Yes, it... it was.” He helps you turn around after he gets out of you and groans.

“You look so fucking good! Perfect to eat right now.”

He makes you laugh before you slowly kiss him, moaning when your tongues find each other. There is something unique about the way he uses that mouth.

“I mean it. Gonna eat you now, ok?”

It’s the only warning you get before your head drops to the bed again and his is between your legs. His shoulders are broad enough to keep your legs extra spread, and you try to keep your eyes open just to enjoy the sight.

But it’s hard. His tongue on your clit then at your entrance, licking and eating his own come combined with yours makes you so weak you have to grab his hair to have a focus point other than his mouth.

“Jamesss.”

Your hips move uncontrolled toward his mouth as soon as you feel him slowing down. He tries to keep your back on the bed by pushing your tummy down with his metal arm, but it’s impossible. The coldness on your skin makes you cry even more.

“Fuck, fuck, Bucky, please...”

You can’t believe how close you are again, but his tongue is always great. You don’t remember a single time he didn’t make you come like this.

You gasp when he moves his tongue up to your clit quickly, which you did not expect. Even though you should have... you should have expected him to bring two metal fingers to your mouth and command you to suck them, then to push them inside you at once as he sucks on your clit. And sucks. And sucks. And when he takes it between his teeth, grazing it just enough, you come.

You don’t even realize you are screaming, the pleasure so overwhelming you can’t think even for a second. And he doesn’t stop, he keeps using his tongue and fingers until you have to beg him to.

You’re trembling, absolutely consumed when he moves up to kiss you.

“Fuck, we taste so good, doll.”

You kiss him again, making sure to lick his lips before he opens his mouth. You taste amazing together, indeed.

“Yes.”

“Good. Are you feeling better now?”

“I can’t feel my body,” you say before laughing.

“Are you sore?”

You touch his face. “I feel well fucked, daddy, don’t worry.”

His face is priceless every time you call him that. It’s funny how a big man like him gets red so easily. You never get over this.

“You and that… name.”

You pinch his chin immediately, stroking his hair. “As if you don’t enjoy it.”

“I do. Look what you did to me!” He shakes his head in a disapproving way, and you feel happy. He makes everything lighter... easier for you. He learned when and how to push you, and it helps that you have a similar sense of humor.

“I’m better now, thank you. It’s just so unfair because you are a wonderful director.”

“Just director?”

You giggle, seeing his pouty mouth. “And writer.”

“And?”

“And?” You raise your eyebrow.

“What else?”

“I don’t-” You burst into laughter when you feel his hands tickling you. “Stop! Stop! F-fine! Best... best boyfriend.”

“What? Didn’t hear you.”

You roll your eyes. He’s so predictable sometimes.

“B-best boyfriend in the world. Now stop! You’re so unfair!”

“Alright.” He gives you a boyish grin, which makes him look so young. His smile never changed from what you saw. His childhood pictures, his college ones... he kept it and it makes him so adorable.

“I love you, old man.”

“Not this again.” He fake puffs before kissing you. “I love you, too.”

You wake up with a few notifications and a message from Bucky telling you he’s gone to do some grocery shopping. You were wondering why the house was silent. Even when he wakes up earlier than you and tries to be silent, there is a low sound from the TV or his music player.

What you don’t expect is to have thousands of DMS and following requests as soon as you open your Instagram.

You don’t understand at first, still sleepy and hungry, until you scroll through your feed and see Bucky’s post. You almost drop your phone.

There are two photos. The first is only with you, but you don’t remember when he took it. You’re not looking at the camera, staring at the sunset, so it’s clear he took it without you knowing. He’s had this for months... and he never showed it to you. God, you miss Italy!

When you swipe to the next pic, one with both of you as he’s biting your cheek, you laugh. You were being so silly that day. Your fourth date... He was ready to eat your whole face and he didn’t want to take no for an answer, so you started to bite and suck his chin in return. It was the first time you spent the night at his house. It feels like years ago...

Then your eyes finally drop to the description and you start crying a little.

I already won the best award that exists a few months ago❤️ Thank you for your support!

You notice he turned off the comments, but many common friends liked the post.

Fuck, that means you are officially together everywhere. Wow.

You can’t believe what you woke up to. You two never kept your relationship a secret, but you preferred being discreet. You are aware of how this looks from the outside, both of you do, but does it matter? At the end of the day, the people you care about know the truth, you work hard to get jobs, and that’s enough.

You immediately open your gallery and choose a couple of photos with you and him, then just with him: hugging, Bucky kissing your cheek, him making dance moves, his face up close... some random pics you love.

You choose to use only a red heart as your caption at first, but before you publish, you add a few words because it doesn’t feel enough and even tag him on your boobs.

What a view: @jbuckybarnes #photosdump

Happily, you let the comments on and look for a certain short video you absolutely adore from your vacation: he has his head on your lap, napping soundlessly while you run your hand through his hair. His face might not be visible, but it’s clear it’s him. His shoulders, his moles, and his hair...

You remember how he groaned and whined every time you stopped touching his curls, bringing your hand back to his head.

“Bubba, more...”

Smiling, you tag him in a small font, choosing a color to fit the yacht floor, and post it.

The next fifteen minutes you spend in the bathroom, taking a shower, doing your routine, and changing into some clothes you left here the last time.

“Baby?” You jump when you hear Bucky in the bedroom all of a sudden, but you don’t let the shock hold you back from jumping on him.

He catches you, thankfully, and holds you by the ass as you kiss him all over his face and neck before stopping on his lips. Your tongue finds his and you moan in his mouth shortly after, making him groan, too.

“Good morning!”

“I love you,” you whisper, resting your head on his chest.

“I love you, too. Didn’t want to leave before you woke up, but we needed breakfast.”

“Can’t believe you did that.”

“What?” He asks genuinely confused.

“You know what!” You say, words muffled by the material of his T-shirt. You are surprised how this small normal thing made you so happy you can burst.

“Ah.” He realizes, leaning in a bit to kiss your hair. “I should have done it ages ago.”

You really hate how he tends to take the full blame when it’s not the case. “We then... but now it’s the perfect timing.”

“Yes, the perfect timing.” He carries you around until you are both back in bed.

The breakfast can wait, so can you to see his reaction when he finds your posts.