Mimi | she/they, 25 | minors dni, proship/zoo/weird shit dni
hey! this is a rly casual & personal blog, It’s mostly for when I’m hyperfixating on stuff and need an outlet :’)
that being said hi! im mimi, i love interacting with fandom stuff! i mostly just come here for fics and gifsets and fanart & junk. might say goofy shit, might post crappy edits. I tend to talk a lot in tags. here to support fic writers & engage in communities. who knows, maybe I’ll post my own works someday :’) feel free to engage, I’m just a little shy so I’m slow with responses sometimes 🥲
bouncing on krennic’s and going completely dumb on it could fix everything for me
my darling anon. my beloved sister (gn) in christ.
wouldnt it fix us all??
2005 words of attempted pwp smut that, as usual, turned out very much plotty below cut
WARNINGS: reader being the pushy one for once, not virgin but inexperienced reader, unprotected p in v, way too much blushing, overuse of italics, also its a little purposely vague who reader is at first cause i want you to be like ah-ha! i knew it when i say who it is.
Frustrations
Your father was beyond intolerable and your spineless older brother was no better. You would never have expected to be allowed to join the ranks of the Imperial military, but your father had paid good credits for your various degrees at all the best universities across the galaxy. You’d think he would at least want you to put them use. But no, the mighty Grand Moff had no use for a daughter with any original thought or ambition. And Wulfric just stood there. He would apologize and sympathize endlessly later, you knew, but ever since he graduated the Imperial Naval Academy, he had stopped trying to defend you to your father to protect his own career.
You were so furious. You needed to do something to make your father just as irate. You’d pulled a fair number of juvenile stunts over the years, but you wanted something more devious.
You practically doubled over in laughter as a deliciously insane idea came to you.
Taking out your comm link, you sent a message to the Imperial Director of Advanced Weapons Research. Without waiting for an answer, you snuck out to your family’s landing pad and commandeered a speeder and flew to the ISB headquarters on Coruscant.
En route, you received a reply. Yes, I’m in my office. Then immediately after: May I inquire as to why you want to know?
Don’t go anywhere, was all you sent back.
“I HATE Tarkin!” you raged the second the door to Director Krennic’s office opened.
Krennic, seated at his desk, had looked up from his datapad in surprise at the interruption, but then chuckled. “I agree whole heartedly, my dear. Is there any particular—“
But you cut him off. You had marched straight to his desk and straddled his lap. You took his face in your hands and kissed him.
At first he kissed you back, hard, but then he pulled away.
“What are you doing Miss Tarkin?” he asked, slightly alarmed.
“What do you think? I want you to fuck me!”
He stood up, pushing you off his lap, and actually retreated a few steps. “Uh, not that I don’t want—That is to say, as enjoyable as—And not that I’ve ever thought about it—“ A pink tinge was growing in his cheeks. He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. “Where is this coming from?”
You giggled. It was hilarious to see Krennic flustered. He was always suave and arrogant, domineering and ambitious, with outbursts of temper, but never was he caught off guard. You honestly felt rather proud of yourself for eliciting this reaction from him. Still, you knew Krennic’s little charade of self restraint wouldn’t last long.
“C’mon Krennic,” you protested with a coy smile, closing the distance between you two. “You hate my father too. Don’t you want to piss him off?”
“Almost always,” said Krennic, prying your hands away from his belt you were trying to unfasten, “but usually in ways I feel won’t result in him murdering me.”
You grasped the edges of that stupid, pretentious cape and tugged him close.
“I know you want me, Director,” trying your best to make your voice soft and sultry. “I can feel the way you look at me. But we’re always in public or with my family. You can’t take what you want. And now here I am, alone with you, begging you to take me. Are you truly going to refuse me?” You looked up at him through your lashes.
He licked his lips but didn’t reply. You hadn’t anticipated any resistance from him. Your expression changed from expectant to petulant and, spite of yourself, you stomped your foot in frustration.
“Fine!” You gave his chest a little shove and took out your comm link again and started dialing. “Do you know if the Chimera is deployed? Maybe Thrawn—“
“Oh, fuck no!” Krennic grabbed your comm from your hands and practically threw it across the room. “There are dozens of ways for you to get back at Tarkin. But if you really want to infuriate your father AND you want to relieve your own tension?” Krennic took you by the waist and brought you closer. “Tarkin would hardly take Thrawn personally and Thrawn wouldn’t have any idea what to do with you anyway. I’m the only one who can satisfy both requirements.”
You grinned and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Knew I’d get you with Thrawn.”
“Oh you did, did you?” You giggled as Krennic eagerly pressed his mouth to yours again.
“You have been looking at me, haven’t you?” you asked.
“‘Course I have. It almost seems disrespectful not to,” he replied between kisses. “You go to the trouble of looking so divine. Shouldn’t you be admired?”
Your hand wandered to his crotch, massaging the not insignificant bulge that was rapidly hardening under your touch.
“So you want me?” you asked, feigning innocence, and pulling back to look into his ice blue eyes.
Krennic laughed. “My dear there is nothing I want in the galaxy more at this moment than to have you coming completely undone on my cock.”
“But because we hate my father—“
“Because we hate Tarkin,” he finished with you.
You held his gaze for a moment, with the feeling that this was probably meant a little more than purely sex to both of you.
“So….?” you asked, referencing the fact that Krennic was still completely in uniform.
You cocked your head to the side, watching as Krennic took off his boots, pulled off his gloves, and draped his cape over the back of his chair before starting unbutton his crisp white tunic.
You feigned a huge, dramatic sigh. “Uniforms are soo tedious,” you observed.
“You could…help…?” Krennic began. But you had already untied the sash of your robes and merely shrugged them off, the lace and silk pooling at your feet. He was gazing open mouthed at you.
“What??” you asked panicking slightly.
His smile widened as he tossed the tunic onto his desk. “I don’t want to cast aspersions on your mother’s character, but it just seems impossible that you could be genetically related to Tarkin.”
You laughed. “Wulfric and I were tubies. Part of their prenup apparently, to ‘ensure the genetic purity of the Tarkin heirs.’ Fortunately for me, my mother’s genes were strong.”
“Flawless,” corrected Krennic.
“I already want you; there’s no need for flattery,” you said dismissively.
Krennic looked slightly hurt. “It’s not flattery. I think you’re prefect.”
Perfect? You tried unsuccessfully not to smile. “We have better things to talk about than my parents’ marital arrangements. And to do…So take off your pants,” you demanded.
“I don’t normally like taking orders from a Tarkin…”
“Do it!”
Krennic raised an eyebrow in mock warning but you could see he was extremely hard already. “Very well Miss Tarkin. I’ll…obey.”
The word sent shivers down your spine.
Torturously slowly, it seemed to you, he stepped out of his pants and tossed them onto his desk with the rest of his clothes.
“Now sit,” you said, gesturing to the chaise lounge he had in the sitting area of his office. Probably for this exact reason, you just realized.
He sat down, legs spread, dick on full display for you. You felt heat rising in your cheeks as you studied his cock. He was very big. You weren’t a virgin, but you would by no means call yourself experienced in this area. You tried very hard not to think about all the other women Krennic had been with in his office and how much better they probably were than you at all this. Butterflies rose in your stomach and for the first time you wondered whether this was still a good idea.
Heart beating rapidly, trying to maintain the pretense of feeling in charge, you knelt over him. You took his ridiculously thick cock in your hand and pumped it a few times. He groaned in satisfaction. You held his cock steady as you lowered yourself onto him. You whimpered slightly at the burn as he stretched you.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” Krennic moaned.
You slowly raised and lowered yourself a few times, getting used to the feeling of him inside you. Once you adjusted to his girth, you started moving faster.
Krennic leaned back, his hands locked behind his head. His eyes moved lustfully down your body, reveling in the sight of you bouncing on his cock.
Gods he felt so good. But that was all—you weren’t getting any closer.
Sensing your frustration, Krennic said, “Am I right in thinking that whatever amateur schoolboys you’ve been with haven’t been able to take proper care of you?”
“Yes,” you conceded, pausing as you felt heat rising in your face.
“But are you able to take care of yourself?”
You blushed furiously. “That seems a rather intimate question.”
“This is a rather intimate situation,” he countered. He waited. He really wanted your answer?
“…Um, sometimes,” you admitted, face still burning. “But this is different.”
Krennic nodded sympathetically, licking his lips again.
“Try this.” With his massive hands, he grasped your waist, guiding your hips into a rocking motion instead of just vertical.
You inhaled sharply at the new sensation.
“Better?” he asked.
You nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, yes!”
You moved your hips faster, chasing your high. Soon your breathing became shallow as you felt a heat rising in your core. This was a new feeling, but you knew you must be getting close.
“Please Krennic?” you gasped.
He gave you a knowing smile. “Please? Tell me what you want, Miss Tarkin.”
“Getting close…”
“You’re going to have to use your words, darling. I know it’s hard to concentrate when you’re being such a good girl, riding my dick so well…”
Why was he making you think? He knew what you wanted, what you needed.
“Please Krennic,” you begged. “Please. I…I want you to make me cum!” It felt cheap and dirty and yet so fun to voice your desires out loud. Was Krennic turning you into a slut? Hopefully…
He smirked. “Ah. And if I do this…?”
His thumb found your clit and massaged slow, steady circles.
“Oh, fuck!”
You thought you might actually cry his touch felt so good. But he was still teasing you.
“Need more,” you panted.
“Why?” he asked.
“Krennic!” you whined.
“Do you want to cum?”
You nodded.
“Well then use your words, darling.”
Gods this was not fair.
“Wanna cum for you, Krennic! Need to cum for you!”
“Mmm good girl.” At last he sped his touch. It was all you needed.
Finally he pushed you over the edge. It was the most blissful feeling in the galaxy. The most intense surge of pleasure coursed through your whole body. You expected Krennic to stop, but he didn’t, so neither did you. Wave after wave seemed to crash over you—or was it one never-ending orgasm? You didn’t know and you didn’t care. Your brain was no longer working and all that mattered was that Krennic was giving you more pleasure than you would have ever imagined possible.
Finally you couldn’t take anymore. “Too much,” you gasped. You collapsed on top of him, still inside you, resting your head on his smooth chest.
“That’s my new favorite sound in the galaxy,” said Krennic after a moment, brushing your hair behind your ear.
“What is?” you asked, still breathing hard.
“The way you moan my name when I have you cock dumb and overstimulated.”
“Oh gods!” you laughed.
“So are you feeling better Miss Tarkin?”
“Immeasurably!” You rested your chin on his chest to look up at him. “I was a little busy, but I don’t think you released your tension yet though?”
Krennic smiled mischievously.
“Miss Tarkin, I hope you know what it is you’ve gotten yourself into.” In one quick, fluid motion, he sat up and reclined you onto the chaise so that his weight was pressed against you.
“I have hours of frustration to work out before I’m finished with you.”
**********
back to the masterlist! remeber reblogs are love 🫶🏼
heyyy girlll….. hehe…. happy 100 followers! always happy to be included in your tag lists :’) i was wondering if you could do prompt 6 with krennic… been on a cape daddy kick lately with andor 😵💫 again congrats! 🎉 i hope im doing this right 🙈
awww thanks bestie! 🫶🏻 i love tagging you and i love all your krennic and thrawn art!!
it was so hard to decide whether to go soft or smutty with this one, but i really do love the idea of krennic allowing his vulnerability to show only with his significant other…
You had never seen Orson this agitated. Was it Stardust? Tarkin? He was shutting you out and your heart ached for him.
You took his face in your hands. “Tell me what you need,” you demanded firmly yet tenderly.
He pouted at you for a long moment, some of the misery leaving his stunning blue eyes.
He didn’t respond, but tenderly pressed his soft lips to yours. Tucking your hair behind your ear, he left a trail of gentle kisses from your jaw down your neck.
a/n: it’s the big daddy himself ben mendelson’s birthday (and countdown to andor season 2!) so i thought krennic deserved a treat. wrote this in like 90 min at 11:00 pm and didnt proof. sorry for typos and repetitive vocab 🥲
as is usual in my krennic fics, reader is the imperial senator from kuat as well as the owner of kuat drive yards, meaning she (but i think reader is actually gender neutral in this one!) has exclusive contracts to the empire with all weapons and ships. here reader uses their considerable assets, wealth, and influence to surprise krennic for his birthday.
krennic’s birthday surprise to reader is mentioned. that story can be found here.
WARNINGS: lil suggestive at the end but shockingly no smut
900 words under cut
You lounged in the high-backed black chair at the head of the long conference table aboard the Death Star. The highly polished surface reflected every light in the room. In the oppressive silence of the empty conference room, you studied the mirror-like reflections. Twelve halo-like reflections perfectly centered on the table in front of each of the twelve chairs. Even the minuscule stars visible through the floor to ceiling picture window were represented in reflection. You tried counting the tiny pinpricks of starlight too, but couldn’t concentrate. Where was he?
Despite your relaxed posture, your nerves were alight with anticipation. You slouched further, uncrossing then recrossing your legs to relieve some of your nervous tension. Your knee-high patent leather boots gleamed with a gloss to rival the table. Flexing and pointing your foot you absently noticed the distortion of the oblong white lights built into the room’s black walls across your boots. Another minute dragged by. Your patience was dwindling. It was most unlike him to be late. You didn’t think you could stand it if he missed it…
The door to the conference room abruptly opened with a distinctive hiss. Your eyes snapped to the doorway.
Krennic stood on the threshold. His ice blue eyes fell on you and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
“You’re late,” you snapped.
The smile disappeared and his brows knit together in the shadow of a frown. “My dear, had I known you were the one with whom I was to meet I would have ensured a timely arrival.”
“I didn’t realize the great Imperial Director made it a habit to be tardy,” you said irritably.
Krennic’s smile returned with a chuckle. “Only when I assume Tarkin issued a summons for me in my own Death Star. Tell me, my Senator, what have I done to incur your wrath?”
“You’re late!” you repeated.
“Only by a minute my love,” he protested.
“Seven,” you corrected heatedly. Now that he was actually here, your anger was ebbing, but you wanted to keep up the act.
“And I beg your forgiveness.” Krennic stooped to kiss your cheek, but you stood and, brushing past him, strode to the window. You nervously scanned the vastness of the canvas of space, but didn’t see anything except for a Star Destroyer floating lazily against the velvety black. Good, you thought, he won’t have missed anything.
“Now really,” Krennic pouted as he trailed behind you. “Is this any way to treat me on my birthday?”
“Is it?” you answered vaguely, not taking your eyes off the Star Destroyer. You realized Krennic’s lack of punctuality might actually serve to enhance your plan. Initially you were going to pitch your idea, but now he would be able to see…
Crossing his arms, Krennic let out an indignant noise of disbelief. “I cannot believe—“
“And I cannot believe a grown man is about to have a tantrum because I forgot his birthday.”
“After what I did for you—“
“Shh!” you cut him off.
Krennic petulantly stared out the window.
“Ah! Finally!” you breathed, a triumphant smile spreading across your face.
There was a moment of silence as he waited for you to explain. “Finally what?” he dared ask.
“Look,” you commanded, pointing to the Star Destroyer.
The triangle of a shadow was spreading over the ship. It continued to grow, slowly engulfing the entire ship.
You turned to face him, fully beaming now. Krennic craned his neck trying to see what object could possibly dwarf a Star Destroyer. “What the…” he began, then started in surprise.
The point of an absolutely massive ship appeared at the top of the window. The ship continued on its course, growing impossibly larger every moment, filling the entire frame.
Krennic’s jaw dropped. “What in the galaxy?” he asked breathlessly. “That cannot possibly be a Star Destroyer.”
“Of course not!” You couldn’t help an involuntary an eye roll as you turned to face him as he studied the ship. “It’s a Super Star Destroyer. Pet project I’ve been working on. It’s not been commissioned by the Empire yet. This is just the prototype. I call it…the Director.”
“The…” Krennic turned to you in amazement, his eyes positively glinting with glee at the implication of the moniker.
You nodded and giggled in delight. “The Director for the Director.”
Krennic had no words. He dipped you into a passionate kiss for a long moment before straightening up. He took your hand as he faced the window once again to admire his ship.
“Happy birthday love,” you said leaning your head against Krennic’s shoulder. “I could never forget.”
“Give me the specs,” he ordered like a giddy child.
You giggled again. “19,000 meters long. Thirteen engines. Two deflector shield generators.”
“How much bigger is mine than Tarkin’s?” he demanded, leaving a trail of kisses from your shoulder to the curve of your neck.
“For kriff’s sake Orson! Will you restrain yourself?” you exclaimed, half exasperated, half amused as you felt his evident arousal.
“No! It’s my birthday!” He gave you an exaggerated pout.
You laughed and brushed your lips against his cheek. “Lucky for you I find that expression irresistible.”
“Good.” He grabbed your hand and strode away from the window and out the conference room.
“Where are we going in such a hurry?” you asked, practically jogging to keep up behind his billowing white cape. “I thought you wanted more specs?”
“That can wait. First we need to go christen my ship.”
threesome with krennic and thrawn thoughts. very vulgar. not tagging. I can’t write this because my brain no work so good. and i might delete this at some point bc its literally just rambling. these guys live rent free in my head. but anyway. everything with enthusiastic consent! gender ambiguous.
18+ text under the cut you have been warned this is shameless and filthy
krennic sitting on the edge of the bed, gently sort of pulls you into his lap so that you’re perched right against his groin. Your back to his chest. Thrawn steps up in front. Krennic like grabs a firm fistful of your hair and yanks your head up (not too hard), probably makes a sly comment. Thrawn wastes no time, and pulls out his dick. in my mind, its like. thick and heavy, and he likes to smack it on your face a bit. Krennic moves your head, guiding your mouth down around him. Whispering devious encouragement in your ear while he pushes you down on thrawn’s cock. The director’s got a good handful of your hair, around the nape of your neck probably. He’s getting harder and harder as you’re sitting on him. Can’t stop himself from using his other hand to squeeze your hip, gently rocking you against his dick. Managing to balance doing that, with pushing your head down on thrawn. He’s rough. Pushes you down maybe a bit farther than you’re used to, makes you gag and drool. Thrawn is clutching at the crown of your head, grunting and hissing and thrusting into your mouth. eventually more clothes move out the way and Krennic ends up fucking you sitting like that, while Thrawn’s pumping into your mouth.
wouldn’t stop there. they’d take turns on you all night, and it would be amazing. Maybe they’d subtly make jabs at eachother’s technique and try to outdo eachother by making you cum as many times as they could. 😵💫
im in such a bad place with the stuff i make like perpetually 🫠 i’ll work on something for hours n really put my foot in it but then i’ll like post it and look at it later and for some reason it just morphs into the worst thing ive ever seen??? i guess i just feel like my style isnt suited to the thing i do the most fanart for and its like. probably cringey? idk. im like worried everyone’s secretly laughing at me all the time and everyone secretly thinks im talentless and weird
THIS star wars mutual is usually foaming at the mouth and barking and chanting more more more whenever you post (esp maul thraw KRENNICCCCC)
i can relate. i have been really struggling with my writing lately. i havent posted in like 6 months /: but i will your drawings inspired two of my WIPs!!
i will die on the hill that anyone is allowed to FEEL anyway they want about anything, but what can be more important is what you do with that feeling. you are totally allowed to feel like you are struggling. you can push through or take a break or try a new style or even a new fandom. i know you have some oc’s, you could try writing and illustrating a story around them. i hope you dont never draw again! im not going to sit here and say you cant feel like your work isnt good enough. my heart breaks that you are struggling but just know that i for one LOVE seeing your art in YOUR style on my dash. i know its yours even before i see who posted it BECAUSE of your style.
whatever you choose to do, do what will benefit you ana make you happier in the long run.
thank you so much for your kind words :’) theres no way im ever gonna just stop drawing, i dont think so at least. drawing star wars stuff is like one of the few things that keeps me sane. it’s really nice to hear that you like my style… i think i’m like super insecure because its pretty yknow. far from realism and i feel like most star wars fanartists lean into realism way harder than i do, but my biggest inspirations have always been cartoons and stuff. but maybe its not a bad thing. I think i was just running on like no sleep earlier and i got in my own head but i needed to hear that anyway. thank you so much for taking the time to type that out for me :’)
im in such a bad place with the stuff i make like perpetually 🫠 i’ll work on something for hours n really put my foot in it but then i’ll like post it and look at it later and for some reason it just morphs into the worst thing ive ever seen??? i guess i just feel like my style isnt suited to the thing i do the most fanart for and its like. probably cringey? idk. im like worried everyone’s secretly laughing at me all the time and everyone secretly thinks im talentless and weird
