Empire Day Gala
a/n: I FINALLY FINISHED A LONGER FIC!! actually really happy with how the plot turned out. (thanks andor season 2 for mentioning the imperial ball and reminding me this fic was almost done) ive read and reread and edited and rewritten the smut so much i cant even tell if its cringe anymore. you can decide 😅 i really had a lot of fun with this one. reader’s date takes her to the most exclusive event in the galaxy, the empire day gala. (un?)fortunately, she runs into an old flame…more notes after the fic cause i dont wanna spoil it
WARNINGS: 18+, smut, fingering, unprotected p in v, not exactly cheating
5,090 words below the cut
The official Empire Day Gala. An intimate gathering of the five thousand or so utmost of the Imperial elite. It seemed a little silly to feel so giddy, but you would never have merited an invitation on your own. Sitting in the back of the chauffeured speeder, you leaned forward slightly, looking at the glittering city lights of Coruscant through the transperisteel windows. Your anticipation must have shown in your face.
“I wish I were looking forward to this evening as much as you.”
You turned, smiling, to face your date. He was one of the youngest Admirals in the Imperial Navy, but it was really his family’s connections that had secured his own invitation, and he in turn asked you to accompany him.
“There’s no reason you shouldn’t be, Wulfric!”
“It’s going to be a lot of networking for me. And of course you will have to meet Father.” He looked apprehensive.
“He has met me,” you reminded him. “Several times, actually.”
“Yes, but that doesn’t count. That’s just through your work. Not in connection to me.”
You bit your tongue. You liked Wulfric, but he could be so insufferably condescending at times. And his obsequious need to gain his father’s approval for literally everything always wore thin on your patience.
You pursed your lips. “You’re a grown man, Wulfric. You don’t need his blessing, let alone permission, for anything.”
The slightest frown flickered briefly across his face, as though he has never considered that possibility before. He lapsed into silence.
You crossed your legs and looked back out the window.
“Oh your dress!”
“What?”
“It’s not sewn properly!”
“Kriff!” you exclaimed in panic, looking down at your sleek, iridescent white gown to find the defect.
“Don’t curse,” he scolded.
You clenched your jaw at being reprimanded like a child, but inspected your dress frantically to see what Wulfric meant. Suddenly it dawned on you.
“The slit?” you asked laughing. “It’s supposed to be there.”
He gaped at you. “All the way?”
It extended up past your hipbone and, with your legs crossed as they were, showed off your legs and curves perhaps a little too well.
“Yes,” you replied.
“You don’t think it’s a little…” He struggled to finish his sentence under your withering gaze.
You raised an eyebrow. “A little what?” you asked combatively, knowing full well some condescending critique was coming.
“Just…stand so it’s on the other side of Father. He wouldn’t approve.”
Now it was your turn to stare in astonishment. “You’re fucking kidding me.”
“I’m not. And stop cursing.”
Fortunately you arrived at your destination at that exact moment and the speeder slowed to a stop.
Wulfric exited the speeder and extended his hand to help you out. You paused, taking a deep breath. You tried to remind yourself that Wulfric came from one of the oldest and wealthiest aristocratic families in the galaxy, from the era of the High Republic. He wasn’t trying to be judgmental and controlling…It just comes naturally, you thought sarcastically. Nature or nurture? Probably both. You took another breath.
Wulfric stooped to peer into the door of the speeder. “Coming?”
You took his hand and allowed him to help you out. Even in your stilettos Wulfric towered over you. He sighed and looked down at you.
“I don’t mean to be critical. You’re wonderful. And you look lovely.” He hooked his index finger under your chin tilted your face toward his. “You always look lovely.” He pressed his lips to yours.
You broke away and studied his handsome features: deep blue eyes, raven locks, sculpted cheekbones. He was highly educated and extremely intelligent. He paid rapt attention in all your conversation, took a genuine interest in your career, and loved to dote on you with every luxury you could possibly want…
You gave him a mischievous smile. “Well, at least you know when you’re being an ass,” you teased.
“I’m trying to apologize!” he protested.
“I know.” You kissed him back. “And I suppose I forgive you. Shall we?”
You took his arm and the two of you made your way into the opulent venue. You looked up at the massive Coruscanti Civic Center. You had always thought it looked impressive at a distance but now that you were standing beside it, it actually felt very cold and imposing.
You glanced around at the other attendees. You had been worried your dress would look comparatively plain. Undoubtedly there were some dressed in particularly lavish outfits, but you by no means looked out of place. And you were quite pleased with the shimmering, opalescent contrast your iridescent gown provided to Wulfric’s drab olive green Admiral’s uniform.
As soon as the two of you were through the doors, you led Wulfric by the hand straight to the bar. “You need a drink,” you insisted. “Maybe three,” you corrected with a grin. He was looking uncharacteristically stone faced. He didn’t argue.
“Oh Wulfric! Please try to relax! I promise tonight will be fun.” You handed him a shot glass of some dark liquor you were sure was very strong and tasted just as awful.
“Cheers.” You tapped your glass to his and you both downed your drinks. You wrinkled your nose and tried not to gag. You turned around and grabbed another two glasses in each hand. You passed two to Wulfric. “And if the gala is half as horrid as whatever this is, I’ll more than make it up to you later,” you finished with a coy smile. Wulfric looked slightly less miserable at this prospect. Nevertheless, he took both shots in rapid succession and you quickly followed suit, sincerely wishing you had chosen literally anything else from the bar.
Setting the empty glasses down, Wulfric started walking, with you hurrying to keep up with his long strides. You wondered how he expected to find his father in the crowd.
Almost as if reading your mind, Wulfric said, “I supposed I’d better comm Father and see where he is.” You glanced up at him in mild astonishment, surprised their mutual fastidiousness hadn’t compelled the two of them to coordinate a predetermined meeting spot.
But looking up at him, you weren’t paying attention to the crowd. Suddenly you felt yourself painfully collide with something.
“Ow! Fuck!” you swore automatically as you turned to see what you had run into. Double fuck. You hadn’t run into a something so much as a someone. Someone none other than Grand Moff Tarkin…Wulfric’s father.
“Excuse me, sir!” you said hastily. Tarkin gave you a cool look, but didn’t reply.
“Wulfric,” Tarkin said stiffly, turning his attention to his son.
“Father,” he acknowledged. “This is—“ but Tarkin cut him off.
“I trust you all already know each other?” Tarkin introduced Wulfric to the Admirals clustered around him, ignoring you completely. The officers weren’t though. They all had their eyes glued to you, waiting to find out who you were. You pretended not to notice and resisted the temptation to roll your eyes.
“And this is—“ began Wulfric again.
“I thought you were bringing the ISB agent,” Tarkin interrupted. “If your date lacks the social graces to follow through with her commitments, you really should ensure you pay for an escort who has mastered the basics of walking.”
He raised a judgmental eyebrow as his eyes swept down the slit in your dress.
Triple fuck!
“And who looks less obviously whorish.”
“I am the ISB agent, Grand Moff,” you cut in quickly, somehow managing to keep the ire you felt out of your voice. “Lieutenant by day, whore by night. How else do you think I can so successfully infiltrate pirate gangs and Rebel cells?” you said forcing a playful smile.
Tarkin fixed you with a cold stare. You could actually feel the anxiety radiating from Wulfric, but fortunately for you, the rest of the group laughed.
“You must remember me, Grand Moff,” you continued sweetly. “We have met several times, and you have always been incredibly impressed with my work.”
He continued to look at you through narrowed eyes. “I suppose you look familiar, but I don’t recall ever making a comment about your work.”
It was your turn to raise an eyebrow. “Precisely, Grand Moff. I think we all know you have an almost pathological need to criticize.” Poor Wulfric. You were pretty sure he had actually stopped breathing. It was a wonder he hadn’t passed out. But someone needed to put Tarkin in his place. “The fact that you’ve never found anything to ridicule in how I’ve handled any of my investigations proves you hold my work in high esteem.”
Tarkin smirked slightly in spite of himself. “Touché, Lieutenant. Yes, for a novice officer your record is admittedly noteworthy.” His eyes flicked back to his son. “Well, Wulfric, you’ve made your introduction. To business?”
“Oh, uh, yes.” He turned to you, but you saved him the trouble of having to dismiss you.
Your eyes glittered mischievously. “I know, I know, the mysterious Stardust I hear mentioned constantly, yet don’t have the clearance to know anything about. I’ll leave you boys to it.”
Wulfric tried to give you a peck you on the cheek, but you were too quick for him and caught him on the mouth. You kissed him deeply, making sure to bend your knee to emphasize the slit in your dress.
You could practically hear Tarkin rolling his eyes, but the rest of the group was salivating. Men, you scoffed internally.
Wulfric was bright red when you broke apart. “I’ll see you later,” you whispered audibly, smiling coyly. You turned your attention to the rest of the group. “Gentlemen, Grand Moff. Pleasure meeting you all.” You flashed them a dazzling smile before turning and heading through the crowd back to the bar.
Ugh, Tarkin was absolutely insufferable. You needed to have a serious talk with Wulfric about boundaries. You knew Wulfric would be irritated with you for your display, but it was for his own good. Wulfric was too traumatized by Tarkin’s disparaging attitude toward you to realize he, too, was being insulted. Tarkin’s evaluation of your work as “admittedly noteworthy” was probably higher praise than he had ever given Wulfric. What the kriff would it take for Wulfric to realize the perverse thrill Tarkin got out of keeping his approval just out of his son’s reach, forever having to grovel for his acceptance? But Wulfric regarded Tarkin with a respect bordering on reverence. You didn’t know how you could shake him of that delusion. You couldn’t ignore the way Tarkin treated Wulfric, to but there was no kriffing way in the galaxy you were going to debase yourself to earn Tarkin’s favor either.
Drumming your fingers on the bar top, you ordered a glass of champagne. Trying to put the Tarkins out of your mind, you took a sip and scanned the crowd. It was a sea of opulent gowns and Imperial uniforms. If you saw Admiral Yularen or Grand Admiral Thrawn, you reasoned, you could offhandedly remind them of your recent ISB investigations and subsequent arrests. Thrawn, at least, wouldn’t be difficult to spot…
You had just decided to meander through the crowd when suddenly a black gloved hand seized your arm in a vise-like grip. You winced and turned to see who had ahold of you.
You were looking directly into the ice blue eyes of Director Krennic, and he was seething. “Director! May I help you,” you asked as more of an aggressive statement than a genuine question, attempting to shrug your arm out of his grip.
“A word,” he growled.
He practically dragged you to the back of the ballroom.
“What are you doing? Let go!” you hissed, hoping no one of import was noticing Krennic’s behavior.
“Why are you here?” he demanded.
“What do you mean why am I here? I’m with Wulfric,” you replied.
“You told me you were busy toni—wait. Wulfric? Wulfric TARKIN??” Kennic looked as though he had swallowed a liter of that mystery liquor. You weren’t supposed to be here at all. And now you springing on him your romantic involvement with the son of his arch-rival? “What the kriff do you mean you’re with Wulfric?”
“Do you know many other Wulfrics?” you asked innocently.
“What do you mean with?” he repeated.
“He asked me to accompany him tonight,” you said serenely, not breaking eye contact as you took a sip of your champagne. “Now do you mind?” You glanced at Krennic’s hand still on your arm. He let go.
“But I asked you!” he said indignantly.
“After Wulfric, hence my declination of your invitation.”
“But we…” he trailed off and left his protest unspoken.
You raised your eyebrows, as though daring him to finish his thought. It didn’t matter—you knew what he was going to say anyway, but you couldn’t believe he of all people would be so naïve. Yes, the two of you had been involved for a while, but it was nothing serious. It was Krennic—nothing with him ever was. You weren’t even exclusive. No matter what you might have wanted your encounters with him to mean, no woman in the galaxy would consider a string of hookups with Orson Krennic anything other than an incredible fling.
But you hadn’t even heard from him in months. Not until last week when he asked if you would come with him to the Gala. And, truthfully, even if you hadn’t already agreed to go with Wulfric, you would have turned him down anyway. Such a last-minute invite only meant Krennic’s original plans fell through or he had procrastinated and would settle for just anyone to come with him. Flattering as either of those prospects were…
He couldn’t seriously be upset you refused to sit around, pining away for him?
“I’m not discussing this with you, Krennic.”
“Why?” he demanded petulantly.
You glanced around, making sure no one, least of all Wulfric or Tarkin, was within earshot. Gossip was like the lifeblood of the Imperial elite, and you did not need to be publicly associated with the ongoing feud between Krennic and the Tarkins. Krennic, however, would probably love to drag Wulfric over and interrogate him directly, just for the spectacle.
“There are too many people here.” Scanning the crown again, you were relieved to see one seemed to be paying attention at the moment.
“So?”
You could tell he wouldn’t let this go. You glared at him, weighing your options. “Give me 60 seconds then meet me outside,” you instructed. You hurriedly finished the last of your champagne and set down the glass on the nearest unoccupied table. You took a moment to steady yourself. Your head was starting to spin already. You strode toward the exit. You could feel Krennic’s eyes following you as you disappeared into the crowd, wishing he would be marginally less obvious.
You exited the ballroom into the atrium and paused, deciding where to go.
“Why?”
You spun around. Clearly Krennic had followed directly on your heels.
“Oh for kriff’s sake,” you exclaimed throwing up your arms. “You’re incorrigible.”
He strode over to you, the white cape of his uniform billowing in his wake. “Why thank you, darling.”
“Do you even know what that means?” you asked rolling your eyes in irritation.
“Surely not obstinate and difficult, incapable of reform. I’m quite confident you mean to refer to me as charming, clever, dashing, witty, devilishly handsome…”
You shook your head, laughing in spite of yourself. “Devilishly something, I’ll give you that.”
He looked at you soberly. “Why are you with Wulfric?”
You sighed in exasperation. “It’s absolutely none of your business. Why do you even care?”
He opened his mouth to reply, but at that moment a large and noisy group entered the gala through the doors behind you.
“Come here,” you said in low voice. Grabbing Krennic’s hand, you led him down the hall, around the corner, and into an alcove.
He smirked. “Paranoid much?”
“I just don’t feel it’s prudent to come as Wulfric’s date, then spend the evening with you discussing our sexual history!”
A triumphant smile crossed Krennic’s face. “So Junior and Daddy Dearest don’t know!”
Shit.
“No one would benefit if they found out.”
“I certainly would,” he remarked at once. “It would be entertaining in the extreme.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” you said, knowing full well he absolutely would.
“Since you’re so reluctant to answer my question, perhaps Wulfric and I can compare notes—“
“Fine!” you interrupted hurriedly. “Wulfric is everything you’re not. He’s serious, he’s rational, he’s reliable, he’s—“ you stopped abruptly. You had almost said boring.
“He didn’t have to bother with the Futures Program,” you said, deliberately taking a dig at Krennic’s modest upbringing. “We have shared interests. We converse. Plus he has about…” you thought. “Five inches over you.”
Krennic scoffed. “That’s nothing—wait.” His expression turned to one of horror. “MORE? How is that physically—How does that even work??”
“Taller, Krennic! For kriff’s sake! He’s tall.”
“Oh. Well.” He shrugged, looking slightly mollified.
“He sounds dreadful by the way,” he continued. “You haven’t named a single reason that makes him better than me. And you forgot to say that he’s a spineless man-child,” he added as an afterthought.
You were getting fed up. “It’s not about better. Ugh, why am I even having this conversation with you?” You clapped a hand to your forehead. “I shouldn’t have to explain to a grown man how relationships work!”
“Relationship? So you admit there is something between us.”
You groaned in frustration. “You’re deliberately misunderstanding me!”
“You’re deliberately provoking me.”
“You’re just upset because it’s Tarkin’s son. I could be here with anyone else in the galaxy and you wouldn’t care.”
“That’s not true. I would care. I don’t want you with anyone.” He suddenly looked so sincere that for a moment you almost believed him. You sighed deeply.
“We had sex, Krennic. That doesn’t mean there is anything lingering between us.”
“So you don’t miss me?” Krennic asked.
“Don’t do that,” you said with another weary sigh.
“You don’t ever think about me?”
“Stop it, Krennic!”
He narrowed his eyes maliciously. “You never once wished it was me fucking you instead of Wulfric?”
You bit your lip.
“Your silence is very telling.”
“You don’t own me,” you said defiantly.
He fixed you with a ravenous look as he pulled off his gloves and shoved them into his pocket. “Oh really?”
Your heart was pounding as you gazed intensely into his blue eyes. Somewhere in the clouded recesses of your brain, your better judgment was telling you that you shouldn’t be here. But you didn’t feel like listening. “What are you going to do, try to prove me wrong?” you challenged.
“Yes.” He grabbed your wrists and pushed you against the cold marble wall, pinning your hands by your head.
“Let me go!” You tried halfheartedly to wrestle out of his grip, but he saw the spark of desire in your eyes and pressed his body against yours.
He chuckled maliciously. “Oh, I don’t think so.” In an instant his mouth was on yours. His kiss was as desperate as you felt. You stopped struggling. You parted your lips and his tongue slipped past yours. He tasted like that obscenely expensive whiskey he always drank. You could feel his hard length straining against his pants. His lips moved from your mouth to your jaw to your neck. The brush of this tongue against your skin sent a shiver down your spine.
“Oh Director…” you breathed.
“Love it when you call me that,” he murmured.
Krennic brought your hands together above your head and held them in one of his as he ran the other up your thigh.
He raised an eyebrow in pleasant surprise as his hand wandered inside your dress and he discovered you weren’t wearing any underwear.
“I couldn’t,” you shrugged, referring to the ultra-high slit.
“I think you just wanted to make my job easy.” Of course Krennic loved your dress. His fingers slipped inside you as he pressed his lips to yours again. You whimpered. “You’re so wet for me. All this from a kiss? My little slut...”
His fingers curled inside you. Fuck, he knew exactly what you wanted. Already you could feel the tension rising in your core.
“I thought you wanted to fuck me,” sounding much needier than you meant to.
Krennic smirked. “You’re proving my point, darling.”
“Then hurry up!” you demanded.
“In a minute…” he said almost lazily. “Actually, it probably won’t even take you that long.” It was true. He was rapidly pushing you to the edge.
“More,” you whimpered.
He smiled. “Whatever my little slut wants.” His fingers quickened. His thumb traced firm, steady circles over your clit. Your breath was shallow and uneven now. How could he do this to you with just his fingers?
“Orson!” you cried as the waves of your orgasm swept over you.
He was gloating. “A new record for you, I think.” You couldn’t reply. If not for Krennic pinning you against the wall, you don’t think your legs would have supported you.
He withdrew his fingers and released your hands. You immediately reached for his belt. If anything, you needed him even more desperately now.
You fumbled with the fastenings of his pants in your haste to get to his cock as his hands roamed over your body. Finally you managed to free his errection. He was so hard for you already. You pumped his length in your fist.
“Need you,” Krennic murmured against your lips.
“Take me,” you breathed.
His eyes were dark with lust. He lifted your thigh and spread your legs so that your gown rode up, exposing your dripping wet heat. You leaned back against the wall. Between the alcohol and your heels and your desire, there was absolutely no way you could stand otherwise.
“Fuck, I love this dress,” he said. He teased your entrance with the tip of his cock.
“Krennic!” you whined.
“What?” he asked, feigning ignorance.
You didn’t think you had ever wanted anyone more. “Fuck me!”
“I like hearing you beg for my cock.”
You could have actually cried with desperation. “Fuck me, Krennic! I want you so bad! I need you. I—I missed you,” you admitted. “Please, Orson?” you whimpered, knowing what it did to him when you called him by his name.
He couldn’t resist any longer. Finally he sank himself into you. You never got over how perfectly he filled you. You sighed pathetically in delighted satisfaction.
“Prettiest sound in the galaxy…” Krennic took his time, pulling out slowly and entering you again, allowing you both to savor the feel of one another. “Mmm, I missed you too.”
You laughed softly. “Missed my pussy more like.”
“And your tits. And your ass. Oh fuck, and your mouth. But mostly you.”
You ran your fingers through silver-brown hair, peppering his jaw and neck with kisses. “C’mon, Director. Make me believe you.”
A wicked smile crossed his face. “Challenge accepted.” He bent your leg even higher and began driving his dick into your cunt with such force it made you gasp. Whether it was the clandestine nature of your encounter or the time you had spent apart, you were both quickly approaching your high.
He slapped your ass. “Up,” he ordered.
With a giggle, you pushed off your supporting leg and hooked both your ankles together around his waist.
“Good girl.”
You arched your back against the wall, tilting your hips slightly so every thrust felt absolutely perfect. Krennic wasn’t holding back any more. He was pounding into with such fury you knew you were going to be so sore tomorrow. You could feel your walls tightening around his cock.
“Gods so tight for me…”
You didn’t even realize how loud your ragged breathing had become as Krennic continued to assault your needy hole.
“Orson!” you cried.
“Much as I would genuinely love to make you scream my name so that everyone at the gala would hear what I do to you,” he panted, “You’re the one who was so insistent on secrecy.”
“Can’t help it!” you whined. “Feels so good!”
“Cum for me,” he demanded.
“Yes!”
With your eyes closed in ecstasy and his name on your lips, you pressed your forehead against his as your orgasm coursed through you. Almost simultaneously you felt him spill himself inside you, as your cunt contracted blissfully around his cock. For a moment you just held each other, breathing hard.
Krennic gently set you back down. He swept the loose strands of hair from your forehead and gave you a tender kiss.
“Let’s get out of here,” he began.
“No, I—Wulfric!“ You gasped in sudden horror. You had completely forgotten about him. Oh, poor Wulfric.
“Kriff, I’m a mess!” you said in a panic. Krennic was smirking at your dilemma as he adjusted his uniform.
“Go back to the gala and don’t talk to me for the rest of the night,” you demanded as you rushed off around the corner to find a deserted restroom to clean up. Even though you were technically dating, you knew Wulfric would be crushed if he ever found out you had been with someone else tonight. And the fact that it was Krennic…you didn’t even want to think of how thoroughly the Tarkins could bury you and your career.
Once were again as presentable as you could be under the circumstances, you hurried back past the alcove, only to find Krennic still there.
“C’mon,” you told Krennic impatiently. “We’ve been gone much too long.”
He didn’t budge. “I really did miss you.”
Once again ignoring your better judgement, you stopped in your tracks, sighing heavily. You couldn’t stop yourself from asking the question that had been plaguing you. “Then why did you stop comming me?”
“Why didn’t you comm me?”
You blinked. “Well…” It was such a stupid, easy solution. One you had thought of a hundred times. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. “Because…you’re you.”
“I’m me?” he repeated, an expression of faint amusement on his face.
“You’re a—well, you’re sort of a…you know” Manwhore was what you wanted to say.
Krennic was clearly enjoying watching you struggle. He refused to finish your thought for you. Of course he was going to make you say it.
“Ugh, you know the reputation you have! I know you have your choice of women. I couldn’t let myself get attached.”
He pressed his lips together, trying not to smile. “And how did that work out for you?”
“Really kriffing excellent. Obviously,” you said sarcastically.
He was looking serious again. “What if I were to tell I got attached?” he asked.
You laughed derisively. “If that were true, you wouldn’t have let me go.”
“I wanted you to want me,” he said.
“No, that’s just a game.”
“I’m serious,” he insisted earnestly. “I wasn’t seeing anyone else you know. And I haven’t seen anyone since, actually.”
You shook your head as if to clear yourself of the delusion that you of all people could possibly have tamed one of the galaxy’s most notorious playboys. Unbelievable. Maybe the shots had been laced with spice.
“Were you?” he asked.
“Was I what?”
“Seeing other people,” he prompted.
You hesitated, shrugging.
“Who?” he pressed. “Wulfric?”
“I have to get back.” You tried to sidestep Krennic, but he moved to block your path.
“Forget him,” said Krennic firmly. “Come stay the night with me. We’ll pick up where we left off. These last months never happened.”
You gazed longingly into Krennic’s handsome face. It would be so easy to fall back into him. You wanted to. “I…it’s complicated,” you began.
“It’s really not,” he contradicted matter of factly. “Just tell your freakishly tall man-child you found a real man who can satisfy your every need.”
“Orson…” you sighed, torn between exasperation and amusement.
“I know men like Wulfric,” he continued. “A woman like you won’t be happy with him for long. Wulfric wants you to behave. You need to keep your opinions to yourself. At some point he will think it inappropriate for you to have a career, that it should be your sole duty to support his every effort implicitly. You’ll be expected to remain one step behind him, literally and figuratively. Tarkin will dislike you out of spite. And don’t even get me started on whatever kriffed up dynamic the two of them have going on. You will always come second to Tarkin, and if you dare to say anything about it, then you’ll be in the wrong.”
You exhaled forcefully. Krennic was absolutely right and you knew it. But was Krennic really any better than Wulfric? They were really just two sides of the same credit. Awkward, insecure Wulfric who tried so hard to please everyone and suave, arrogant Krennic who never gave a damn what anyone thought. You just didn’t know…
“I…I’m not committing to anything. Wulfric will be on deployment in two weeks. We can talk then.”
“You can come over,” Krennic proposed.
“No. We’ll get caf,” you countered.
“Drinks,” he shot back.
“Dinner.”
Krennic smiled smugly. “Alright, dinner. If that’s where I need to start to prove myself to you, that’s what I’ll do.” He took your chin in his hands and kissed you in the cheek.
You smiled in spite of yourself. “Now can I please go back?”
Krennic gestured for you to lead the way.
The two of you were still down the hall from the gala when you spotted Wulfric emerge, clearly searching for you.
“Wulfric!” you exclaimed and hurried to hug him.
He returned your greeting with a quizzical glance at back at Krennic.
“I’m afraid whatever those shots were hit me rather hard,” you explained. “I ran into Director Krennic here. He was kind enough to keep me company when I stepped out for some air.”
“We were discussing her recent exploits,” added Krennic. “Truly remarkable. You have quite the Lieutenant there, Wulfric.”
Wulfric gazed fondly down at you. “Yes, I do,” he agreed. Though nothing either of you had said was untrue, a pang of guilt coursed through you.
“Now I believe you had some way you were planning on making this evening up to me?” Wulfric whispered to you, but loudly enough for Krennic to hear. You hoped to kriff Krennic would hold his tongue. And, miraculously, he did.
“I did indeed,” you laughed, feeling your face flush.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” said Krennic with a gracious smile and a bow. You and Wulfric turned to leave. “You’re a lucky man, Admiral Tarkin,” Krennic called after the two of you. He chuckled darkly to himself. For now…
thanks for reading besties!! ~remember reblogs are love~ back to the master list
a/n continued: i had soo much fun writing the tarkins. i swear i could hear peter cushing saying the lines 😅 also, i wanted to find an unusual sounding w name for the son to go with wilhuff. (thanks to one of dumbledore’s middle names for inspo haha) im also a very visual person, so it was important for me to figure out what wulfric looked like. to me, peter cushing’s defining features are his eyes and cheekbones. and if i wanted gorgeous blue eyes and defined cheekbones who else but my love benedict (im the original cumberbitch i swear 🤣) but i also wanted him to be incredibly tall and gangling, so i was imaging a lot of zach woods/gabe lewis from the office. (kyle soller/syril karn vibes are also perfect for him, but i was tryna find new casting haha)
i mean look at them!!
honestly loved the plot in this one. if anyone wants a part ii where reader tries to make up her mind, lmk!
tag list! lmk if you want me to add you 🥰
@znerac @msjackson1073 @sinker003 @empresskrennic c @erebusbabylon @shelveddoll @traveller-of-word-and-screen @perfecttimemachinestranger @allthebestscreennamesaregone63 @starladyy @enaelyork @hottpinkpenguin @starwh0ers @darklightcannon @dbsdbs2 @saeko11 @nahoney22 @satinewars97 @baskervilka @ivorydragoness44 @deviantgamergirl
