"You've been fucking around", she yells. She has been waiting just by the door, like a predating animal. She must look unhinged and she doesn't care. She wonders, why is she not afraid him? Hatred is stronger, or whatever she feels that makes her head spin and her mouth dry. "I'm going to kill you!". She had already threatened this though for the opposite reasons, because she didn't want him to touch her then - or so she thought.
Granted, she had been neglectful in what he calls her wifely duties since she learned that her father had to work on something he really, really didn't want to be participating in. He had told her so, swallowing back tears, on the holo - the only way she was allowed to communicate, and he made her thank him every time after in a way she wanted to call humiliating. Perhaps more because seeing Galen troubled him than for any other reason. He would fixate on her face as if to prove himself he didn't need to think of a man, or look away completely. These times she wished him dead but still couldn't help doing it. But her father's distress at his increasingly dirty hands and guilty conscience, she couldn't stand. She started fighting back the only way he would care. She hated that she didn't do more than that. She hated that she needed it more than he did. For all his pent up passion, the man was absolutely in control of himself, cold and reasonable. Not a hot head like Jyn.
But. That's when the fantasies started, he tells himself, though in fact they did on the day he had her in his office, threatening to kill everyone. He wanted nothing more than taking her in front of her damned father, showing him what he missed, what he would do to her… He would kiss her, exploring her mouth with his tongue, until Galen couldn't take it. Then he would go after him as he attempted to leave the room, prevent him from going, and he would kiss him too, until they couldn't breathe anymore. What he wouldn't given for his mouth against his lips, or wrapped around his dick as he pulled at his curls. "Your hair is a bit long", he once told Jyn, and she freaked out because she knew. Shamefully - though he hated that the Ersos could make him feel so - he had touched himself envisoning an excruciatingly detailed blow job from Galen, which was actually the twin of the one his daughter gave him, licking and swallowing him. Galen had always liked the taste or acted as if he did, it was difficult to understand. Orson had, too, in his younger years when everything wasn't about power and he allowed himself the pleasure of making Galen come inside his mouth. His moans and cries - how he called his name - only more intense when he took him or the very few times he had been drunk enough to get him ready with his tongue, circling and wetting where he would be. Orson still couldn't bring himself to put his mouth on his wife, but she had loved his fingers rubbing just the same. There had actually been some of how he caressed Galen there in what he attempted with his wife. Galen had once come from that and this had been a treasured memory he still touched himself to. More and more as Jyn flaunted herself but refused to give him release. Bearable in the beginning, it had gotten complicated. She wore those elegant gowns he bought her, not letting a lady get casual, and tonight wasn't any different, though she had somehow forgotten to button the top up. He would probably spy her bra if he cared, or dared.
Jyn had expected consequences to her constant refusals. Expected and awaited. But her husband had been oddly patient, sticking around with his nose in his unholy blueprints because above all he prided himself an academic, then only coming home slighty late, until… this.
"You're coming home at the crack of dawn and I'm supposed to believe you didn't get some harlot to suck you off". There's fire and ice in her voice. He looks upset, annoyed, or maybe he has a head ache. He rubs his forehead, pinching the bridge of his nose. Serves him!
"Let's go to sleep, I am tired", he attempts. The worst. For all his reputations and all the rumours, Krennic doesn't know women from upclose.
"I assume you didn't put it inside her, you're not man enough to enjoy that". She is bitter, hateful, she wants to hurt him where his pride lies as well as his self doubts. What if he didn't cheat though… No, if he hadn't released he would already be ready for her after so many weeks of nothing, since he always loved fights for the adrenaline and power play. She cannot stop. It scares her. "Did she call you Director? Was she wet for you?". It makes no sense. He would not know whether she wanted him too if he just got a quick blowjob and it doesn't matter, she is not jealous. She wants to claw at his face so no one ever looks at him, dumb men, even dumber women he enjoys flirting with before dropping them.
She stalks him, trying to determine what - who… He doesn't smell like cheap perfume, but it doesn't mean anything. He does smell of liquor and expensive cigarettes.
"You drank? Who did you see there? You spent a lot on that". When you have everything home. She imagines a seedy bar, or a decadent club, exclusive and men only. Men only.
She remembers the night out he mentioned…
She inhales abruptly because there is something aking to guilt on his face and this isn't an expression she sees often in that house.
"You were with him. Seven hells. With my… dad?". Her last word is a shriek, as if she was calling him.
"You said you wouldn't. You said you wouldn't cheat on me!"
She's dramatic and she knows it and doesn't care. The only answer is the one he cannot give, because it does shame him to be unable to do without.
Why did she think she could handle this? She is both screaming and crying now, not recognizing herself. She grabs at the century old legacies, the trinkets collected on Lexrul, and she throws them at him, as her mother had through the holo. He dodges most of them, because her aim is terrible in her state. But he doesn't scold or retaliate, not yet, because there's this feeling nagging in the bottom of his stomach. He looks at her puzzled. Neither of them were expecting this. Does she really care? Is it her ego? Krennic understands ego better than any one. If he could cry, if he had tears, they would shed over that. She trips over nothing and catches herself, her hands grasping the table's edge. She stops moving and he approaches carefully, pushing his cape back as if to shield it from the storm.
He takes her into his arms, embracing her and she pushes back, hits him on the torso with her closed fists. He grabs them and buries his face in her hair. Liquor. She smells as Galen did when…
"You've been at my liquor collection I see. How many thousands credits did you destroy?". He speaks gently, almost sing songy, to appease her.
"I should burn it all down, raze the house to the ground, destroy the fucking…"
He doesn't correct her language.
"You see now how I felt when he chose her…" he murmurs, and for once, for the first time, she doesn't quite agree but she gets it.
Her screaming ceases immediately and she looks for his eyes. They're red though dry.
"You're not touching me ever again. You should be my father's wife. Don't you even try and fail at...". She's lying, and it can be heard in her voice. He didn't quite fail at fucking her, though whether his thoughts wander she'll never have evidence or or against.
"Krennics don't debase themselves forcing anyone. They take what is theirs". His voice is eerily quiet, but he peppers little kisses into her scalp.
"That's the same thing", she mumbles. She doesn't tell him she doesn't care for Krennics so she doesn't hear she is one. Her hands are fisting his white uniform, and she enjoys the texture. She nestles her face against him as if she could hear his heart. She had almost been surprised the first time she heard it.
"We were meant to discuss his… plans. One thing led to another". Not an apology, an explanation.
"I hate him", she mutters against the cloth, raging that she doesn't hate Krennic most.
"No. He probably thought this would spare you". Of course… Misguided, misunderstood father. Story of his life. She laughs and cries, some more.
"Mom is going to be crazy". Crazier than Jyn is, crazier than Lyra is already.
"No, not if you don't tell her". He whispers as it those were love words, when they drip with venom and contempt for the woman. He should have named the Death Star project Lyra.
"You serious?". She tenses in his arms, this is betrayal again, and she hates that she is calming down in the embrace of such a man but she is. Even when he cheated on her with her father and is telling her it should be their little secret - him, Galen, and Jyn.
"Don't say anything. I won't either if you behave, Stardust".
She snarls at his use of her father's nickname. And at the threat. Lyra has lost it already on the com. Her hearing she and her daughter are both being betrayed by their husbands - together… No, Jyn cannot imagine and cannot bring herself to literally mess with her mother's head even more. She tries to imagine her husband seduced by some asshole who then becomes her fucking son in law. Hi mom, dad. She cannot imagine this. She hides her face in his white and closes her eyes so she doesn't see it. But she can smell him.
"Don't ever drink like this again. This isn't good for you"
She puffs. "Yes, dad", and when he doesn't comment, she adds. "I'm not pregnant". Almost snapping, not exactly.
"You don't know that", she replies, letting go of her wrists, tentatively. He wouldn't hurt the vessel carrying his flesh and blood, his heir. A boy of course for a man like him as a firstborn. She stares up at him. "And I don't want you to drink anyway, you're not used to it and… That's good".
"Did your mother drink?", she asks suddenly out of nowhere. He doesn't say anything but there's some fleeting feeling in his gaze that says, don't go there. Obviously she drank. Booze and stims and whatever she could get under hand.
What is wrong with her that this touches her, and that she keeps thinking of how he felt when her father rejected him? Jyn looks up finally, ready to face him or so she thinks. Her hand trails toward his face, her fingers hovering until she finds it in herself to caress his cheek. Her breath came in short gusps, her breasts straining against the half undone corset. He presses against her, welcoming it despite talks of betrayal and childhood nightmares, and she went on her toes, biting his lip when she felt him hard against her hip. His flesh is much too soft and warm. The man should be marble, ice.
"You still want to go to sleep?", she asks, taunting. "You should".
"I want to fuck", he says, grabbing her slim waist and pressing her just against his erection.
He shouldn't, not after such a night. She tells him so. He doesn't react. He said he wants to fuck, no indication on who he wants to fuck.
"You didn't have to do that. I know I shouldn't have… refused…", she is embarrassed about her own embarrassment and she hates that it sounds like an apology.
"It would have happened anyway", he whispers in her ear like the lover he thinks he is, gently rocking her against his dick. She whines. He's not promising that it won't happen again, though at least he doesn't use the easy way out of blaming her for not putting out. She embraces him, and she keeps taunting him.
"So easy… Already?". If he was a woman he would have quite a reputation. The father and the daughter, Force… It disgusts her just thinking of it. But she responds to him all the same. He looks puzzled a short moment.
"Oh", he realizes. "No, I... I didn't. Let it go that far". She gapes, studying his face. He's not lying. But now, does it mean he didn't come, or they didn't fuck, she has no idea. It bothers her that she would have done it anyway, though possibly putting him through more taunts. He's just going to be more careful now, maybe, if he feels gentlemanly. If her father doesn't deserve his wrath and he doesn't want to torture him with his daughter's pain. He may allow her more time to speak to her parents if she behaves though, maybe he can grow lenient, complacent, and they could holo without him hovering. Because now he can tell her that poor Lyra really shouldn't know… Though she is far from stupid. She has a scientist's mind even unhinged. She will see her husband come home, flustered, smelling like Krennic's cologne, strong enough for some whore but manlier… The idea is harmful, but while Krennic is busy dangling this in front of her, he doesn't see anything else.
She smiles and runs her hand through his hair as if thankful he didn't cheat just as much as she thought he did. I will kill you one day, Director, she thinks, but that's only to encourage herself now because she knows this isn't happening.
"If I knew I just had to do this to get you to comply…". He's the one taunting now and she pulls on his hair ungently, scratching his scalp but enjoying the molten gold. He seems to notice the undone buttons on her top as she squrims against him. His hand finds her burning skin, rubbing where it isn't covered and she doesn't close her eyes.
"You're mine Director Krennic", she breathes against his lips. He takes it as some sort of backhanded compliment. He doesn't hear the threat, or doesn't want to.