ao3.life
Back to the shelves

Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)Star Wars - All Media Types

Star Wars - majcrtom

by exhausted.

ao3:9548147 · 1,016 words

General

Listen now? Hear it read aloud. Three minutes free.

Hear it read aloud

Start with a free three-minute preview, or get the whole audiobook now.

Sign in with your email [To prevent AI Labs from scraping this data]

Start reading
Download EPUB

5 KB, works in Apple Books, Google Play Books, KOReader and most e-readers. Sign in for faster downloads.

Summary

"Orson pulled off his gloves as he approached his quarters, pressing his hand against the pad which allowed the door to slide open. He stopped in his tracks, surprised to see you sat (or rather, slumped) at his desk. He hadn't been expecting you to still be here at this hour. Clearly, though, exhaustion had got the best of you."(Officer!Reader/Krennic fluff. Non-romantic relationship. Gender-neutral reader.)

**Author's Note:**

* For [alisha_winchester_collins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alisha_winchester_collins/gifts).

It was late and you were _unbelievably_ tired, yet still you sat hunched over numerous datapads at your desk - actually, Director Krennic's desk. You'd asked permission to use it as you could easily access files you needed.

Your eyes were actually stinging from concentrating so hard and you rubbed them, willing yourself to carry on. You needed these reports done or someone would surely have your head.

15 minutes passed and you were very aware that you were barely getting anything done. It was hard enough to do when you were fully awake, never mind half asleep.

_'Just 5 minutes...'_ You thought, folding your arms on the desk in front of you and resting your head on them. 'I'll just…rest my eyes.' You let your eyes fall shut.

Unfortunately your plan didn't go so well. You fell asleep in seconds, datapads and reports long forgotten.

It was very late when Orson was heading to his quarters. Only patrolling troopers were about, and perhaps the odd lieutenant. Krennic sighed as he walked. It was a stressful time, the weight of the Death Star project sitting heavy on his shoulders. So many things left to do, and they were all running through his mind on a constant loop every waking hour. He pulled off his gloves as he approached his quarters, pressing his hand against the pad which allowed the door to slide open. He stopped in his tracks, surprised to see you sat (or rather, slumped) at his desk. He hadn't been expecting you to still be here at this hour. Clearly, though, exhaustion had got the best of you.

He walked across to the desk, dropping his gloves on it, and leaned over you to inspect the datapad screens which were still glowing. You'd done a lot, far more than what had been expected of you, actually. He reached across to switch off the datapads and glanced at you, still sleeping quite soundly. Orson then unclasped his cape and pulled it off, stepping behind you and draping it over your shoulders. In the morning he'd have a word with you about not working so hard.

You briefly woke, eyes opening just enough to see Krennic dimming the lights before entering his sleeping quarters. You registered the feel of a smooth material covering your shoulders before you fell straight back to sleep again.

* * *

The alarm on your communicator woke you at the usual time in the morning, beeping insistently from where it lay on the desk. You groaned, burying your head into the crook of one arm whilst reaching blindly with the other to switch it off. The movement made something that was covering your hunched form slip off one shoulder and you lifted your head at the shifting of fabric. As you reached and grabbed a fistful of light material in your hand you struggled to remember the previous evening. You had a vague memory of waking up briefly in the early hours…or did you dream that?

You pulled the fabric from your shoulders, bringing it to rest in your lap. Looking down to inspect it, your eyebrows raised when you found yourself holding Director Krennic's cape. Your eyes then flicked to the desk and to the datapads that had been switched off and neatly stacked in one corner, which you certainly hadn't done the previous evening. You went to turn your head but winced, putting a hand to the back of your strained neck.

"That's what you get when you sleep on a desk."

A voice from the corner startled you and you jumped to your feet. The Director stood near the doorway which lead to his sleeping quarters, adjusting the cuff of his uniform. You clutched his cape in one hand, piecing everything together in your head.

"Director-!" You sounded more startled than you'd intended and cleared your throat. "I-uhm-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep last night, I'd intended to be out of your way…" you explained quickly. He just huffed out a laugh, pulling on his gloves.

Contents 1 chapter

Loading the contents…

Tags