#@bruh-myguy-what @cyaretra @jetii @hshfsjzjsgj @zahmaddog @heidnspeak

[stellarbit]

Just One Bite

Follower Event Request: @covert1ntrovert

First off wow wow wow congrats to you on 1,000!!! I’m so glad to be here with you in this little corner of the fandom. I love your writing and how it makes me giddy and kick my feet. You had me at “personal prompts” and I’ve been feeling a bit down lately, doubting my abilities and all that good stuff. I feel like Tech would have NONE of that. If I may humbly request NSFW Tech using prompts “what is it about me that isn’t good enough?” and “bite me” 🤣?Your Tech writing is always DELISH. Maybe the reader got them stuck somewhere by accident and it’s the last straw of her self doubt?Always a NP request and no hard feelings if you decide not to do it! Thank you for doing this event! ♥️🙏

Word Count: 6,159

Pairing: fem!reader x Tech

Warnings: hurt/comfort, NSFW, receiving and giving oral, touching all around.

Summary: It was your fault you got hurt and not something you want to admit. Tech corners you to assess your injuries and tensions rise.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” You screamed into your palms, face hidden from the scene at hand. 

Crumpled and smoking in front of you was the speeder you and Tech had ‘commandeered’ as Tech so politely put it. ‘Stolen’ is how the authorities would put it if - when -  they caught up with you. Which, considering your immobilized mode of escape, was more likely to happen than not.

Initially, Tech had been resistant to let you drive, but your insistence—coupled with the increasing urgency to leave—had finally worn him down. Following his directions, you navigated through a series of ravines to avoid detection, with Tech diligently monitoring nearby comm channels and attempting to enhance the signal reception. Your focus was on hugging a wall through a particularly tight turn until an overcorrection sent the tail of the speeder crashing into the rockface.

Tech's quick reflexes were what saved you both. He managed to throw you to safety just moments before the speeder collided with the wall and tumbled to the ground below. As you both stood, the sight of fuel leaking from the wreckage dashed any hopes of salvaging the vehicle.

Tech, to his credit, didn’t seem nearly as concerned as you were - or at all for that matter. His indifference about the situation only further spurred your inward frustration. 

Holding his datapad in the air, Tech roamed and scanned the surrounding terrain. He wasn’t surprised that it proved difficult to pinpoint the Marauder’s coordinates. Afterall, the remote nature of the facility you’d infiltrated left you fairly stranded and the weather patterns interrupted clear comm signals. All factors that Tech took into account prior to relying on one method of escape. Having the topography committed to memory, Tech knew contacting his brothers was only a matter of reaching a nearby clifftop.

He hadn’t been expecting to find you still sat with your head in your hands by the time his nose was out of his datapad. You did not appear to be in distress, but you also Tech couldn’t decipher your silent state. 

Tech recognized you as a worthy addition to the missions you helped with. Your knowledge of nearby planets, connections amongst locals, and outright grit framed you as anything but a liability. Beyond that, and whether Tech could acknowledge it or not, your company made his squad feel less incomplete.

Gripping his datapad tighter, Tech finally broke the silence. “Were you… injured in the crash?”

On a sigh, you answered, “No.” Shaking your head, you dropped your hands and pushed yourself to your feet. You faced Tech with a tight lipped smile. “You were right. You should’ve driven.”

“Agreed.” Tech immediately agreed, simply believing he would not have made the same mistake. Comfortable knowing you were unharmed, Tech turned back to his datapad. Getting back to the Marauder took precedence. “There is a plateau one klik south of here. We can better signal for pickup from there.”

You made it away from the scene and to the plateau with no trouble. It seemed security had not been as tight as you’d planned for. You’d been silent the majority of the journey and notably remained so as you and Tech stood waiting for pickup.

The quiet was loud for Tech who was struggling under the weight of not speaking. Unable to resist some sort of commentary, Tech walked up to where you stood staring out over the edge of the plateau.“Of all our missions so far, I’d say that was our easiest yet.” 

“Ng,” Your eyes found focus on the distant smoke lingering from the crash. “And yet we almost died.”

“Hardly,” Tech scoffed at the notion that he’d perish in such a scenario. “Escaping the crash was very nearly the easiest portion of our mission.”

You mumbled something unintelligible in response, but before he could press for clarification the Marauder descended through the thick cloud cover. You were quick in boarding midair and Tech didn’t hesitate in following your lead, presumably leaving his pestering on the plateau.

Wrecker emerged from the cockpit, positioning himself next to Hunter at the naviscreens with Omega eagerly squeezing between them. 

Hunter leaned forward in his seat, a smirk pinching into his tattoo as he scanned you and his brother. “Run into some trouble?” 

You bypassed the group, seeking the solitude of a bunk, but Omega tailed you.

“We saw smoke,” Omega worried at your heels. “Was that you?”

“Yes,” Tech replied, his voice a blend of annoyance and factual precision. “The ravines were more narrow than anticipated.”

“Ha! I knew it!” Wrecker barked. “So much for being a good pilot.” He lopped a hand onto Tech’s shoulder, rattling his brother with a chuckle.

“I - ” Tech made his emphasis by shoving Wrecker off, “-was not the one driving.”

Wrecker’s laughter died down as he caught the tail end of you slinking into a bunk. You kept your back to everyone, doing your best to keep casual despite the shame churning your gut.

A small hand rested on your side as Omega gently asked, “Are you alright?” Despite her barely touching you, the spot she brushed was badly sore. You didn’t need to see bare skin to know a contusion painted your side.

Conjuring one more smile for Omega, you kept a measured breath as you twisted to face her and pain stabbed through your abdomen. “I’m fine. Just need to rest for a bit.”

To your surprise, they all seemed to respect your need for quiet. Unfortunately, peaceful as it was, it made it all the easier to get lost in the spiral of your shortcomings. Disappointment wormed its way through you as you worried over the scale of your mediocrity.

When you’d reentered Ord Mantel’s atmosphere and hardly stirred, Omega approached Tech with a worried frown. “Tech?”

 “What is it?” Tech chirped back without breaking his focus on piloting.

Omega glanced back at you. “Did something else happen? She’s not usually this quiet after a mission.”

This pulled Tech’s attention away as he craned around to observe you. He looked for only a second before facing forward with a shrug. “She did say she needed to rest.” He paused, considering the thought for a moment before swiftly flipping a switch on the dash. “Although, it is possible the crash was more impactful than she admitted. Monitor her for any signs of physical discomfort. I can examine her after we land.”

Seemingly satisfied with his response, Omega nodded and returned to her seat with another glance in your direction. The young clone kept a vigilant watch all the way through landing. Content on keeping her distance until you sat up with a wince.

Tech barely made it out of his seat before Omega cut him off. He looked over her head for a clue to her urgency. Echo, Wrecker and Hunter were filing out of the Marauder while you were gathering your things in the back. Tech watched you awkwardly shift around as Omega reported back, “I think you were right.It looked painful for her to get up.” 

“Indeed. Good obseravation, Omega. I’ll take it from here.” Tech said and quickly pointed to the mouth of the Marauder. “Join the others outside. We'll follow shortly after I’ve assessed her condition.”

Omega’s pout was brief as she obeyed, turning to follow the others out of the ship.

Air pressure released and the ship continued to settle as Tech approached. You stood at the edge of the bunk, shifting the contents of your bag around with nothing left to pack up. As he saw it, you appeared to be stalling rather than actively leaving.

The quiet nature of the return flight had been lost on Tech. Piloting narrowed his focus to almost deafening proportions and little interrupted him when he was set on a task. Now, in the silence of just the two of you, he understood what Omega had sensed.

You were simply not behaving in your usual energetic pattern. It was understandable, afterall a change in attitude is not atypical at the onset of pain.

Tech was passing the naviscreens when you, eyes fixed intently on your bag, said, “You don’t need to wait up for me, I’m almost done.”

Bringing his datapad to his face, Tech began to calibrate a body scan with a shrug, “Actually, I came to scan you for injuries,” he stated matter of factly.

“I already said I’m fine.” You shot back, the edge in your tone sharper as you slung your bag over your shoulder.

“A statement my scan will verify,” Tech casually challenged. He didn’t wait for your consent before positioning his datapad towards you.

You swept the device out of your way without the light even grazing you. “I’m not doing this.” You breezed past him, albeit with an off kilter gait.

Slightly offended, Tech pulled his device back with a scowl on you. Your actions lacked logic. Why such a harsh reaction to such a small thing?

The hatch door shut, cutting off your avenue of sulking and trapping you inside with Tech. Swallowing the urge to slam on the door, you dropped your bag to pivot in place. Tech stood, finger still on the control panel and a firm look about him.

You shrugged your shoulders with an annoyed gesture. “Get on with it then.”

Tech didn’t budge from his spot. “What is your issue?” 

Obvious frustration crimped your expression. Silence settled between you again, icy and tense. “Nothing. Just leave it and do your scan.”

He blinked, the confusion clear on his face as he tried to decipher what ‘it’ could be. At first, he thought you were avoiding the scan, but your reluctant permission contradicted that theory.

Maintaining his distance, Tech thought for another moment. The clear catalyst for your change in demeanor had been the accident. While he’d never seen you severely injured, this reaction was ranging into the unusual. Though, he needed more information before he could conclude anything further. 

With a minor sidestep, Tech pointed a finger in the direction of the bunks. “Take a seat. This should only take a moment.”

You moved silently to the bottom bunk, seating yourself with a notable rigidity. Tech observed the way you avoided his gaze. You’d once pointed out his own habit of avoiding eye contact and, in turn, he made a point of matching your eye when you looked his way.

At first it was out of spite, yet now, he found himself genuinely valuing that connection, missing it in this moment.

True to his word the scan was fleeting. Its blue light briefly passed over you from head to toe and back again. While shifting through the analytics with one hand while absently adjusting his goggles with the other.r. In the end, the results were to be expected and thankfully the best case scenario.

“You’ll need to remove your top garments.” Tech said with clinical nonchalance that snapped your head up.

“Why?”

He rotated his datapad to show you the display, where a human torso was outlined in red. “You’ve sustained a mild contusion on your right lateral rib cage. I need to inspect for any potential lacerations.”

Your heart sank as you considered what lay beneath your clothing—a mark of vulnerability, a physical confirmation of your limitations.

As you clenched the edge of the bunk, a quiet confession slipped from you, “What’s wrong with me?”

Unlike on the plateau, Tech caught your faint words. Still, he asked, “Say again?”

“What I mean is-” A muscle feathered in your jaw, your teeth ground tight as you continued. “-just what about me isn’t good enough?”

Taken aback, Tech shifted on his feet. You made less sense as you went on. “I… am not sure I follow your question.”

On a soft growl you started tugging at your clothes and pulling them off, blatantly disregarding your injuries. “All I do-” You grunted as one layer came off. “-is hold everyone back and everything I do-” another layer cut you short as you struggled to get it over your head.

Seeing your struggle, Tech set his datapad aside and stepped forward to assist. His fingers carefully guided the fabric over your head, his gaze inadvertently dropping—not to the injury on your rib, but to the exposed skin of your chest. It was a sight he had not anticipated affecting him, yet he found

Once freed, you scrubbed your face in frustration before slumping forward. The motion forced Tech to step back to avoid collision. 

On a heavy breath you finally confessed, “I just… no matter how hard I try I fail at everything I do.”

“That would be an overstatement.”

You slowly looked up with a questioning - nearly offended - look about you.

“In other words, an exaggeration.” Tech explained without prompting.

“I know what an overstatement is.” You hissed back.

Rolling his eyes, Tech bent to one knee. “Then I will assume you recognize your proclamation as one such example.” Head tipped back, he inspected the bright red blotch marking the side of your chest. Gingerly, he brushed a thumb over the spot, gauging your reaction to the slight pressure.

Your eyes were already shut by the time you felt his fingertips. There was no containing your flinch, one born from the slight pain and knowing it was Tech’s touch on you. You at least succeeded to brace against the instinct to angle into his hand.

“I need you to open your eyes,” Tech instructed calmly. Your lack of response made him repeat himself, calling your name in a softer tone. “Open your eyes.”

It took you a moment to concede. Tech remained kneeling before you, fingers still on your bruise. Now assured that your pupils were of even size with no sign of a serious connection, Tech returned his focus to the wound.

As if he was listing off a droid’s malfunction, Tech said simply, “It is unreasonable to expect any one person to excel in everything life demands.” While his hand went in search of his datapad, he continued. “Each person has strengths and weaknesses. The unfortunate truth is that learning one’s strengths is often the lesson of failures.” 

Another scan passed over your rib cage and Tech paused, his eyes losing focus. Eventually his eyes met yours, making you unsure of what to make of his eyes looking between yours. 

“However, that does not mean failures are our shortcomings. On the contrary, our failures only make us better prepared for whatever comes next. I am no exception. My decisions have not always panned out as I anticipated.” He shrugged, unbothered by admitting he wasn’t always right. “As long as you survive and adapt, failing is only a minor inconvenience.”

Your lips wobbled, straining against a surge of emotion. Coming from Tech, who navigated his life in logic, the sentiment was more comforting than you could’ve imagined. A lump formed in your throat and, in fear of a watery response, you chose to simply smile and nod your head.

The small change in your demeanor pulled a barely there smile from the technician. You seemed lighter in that moment, allowing him to divert his attention back to his datapad. He quickly swiped through the results, bringing his screen closer on one particular data point.. Brows bouncing up, he seemed pleasantly surprised and set aside his device. 

“You’re in luck,” Tech announced, a hint of relief in his voice as he set aside his datapad. “On closer examination, your ribs are bruised but not fractured.” He carefully removed his glove, a rare gesture that made his next action feel even more personal. His hand gently pressed against the side of your chest, checking the swelling more precisely. “Now we—” 

He paused, his eyes lifting to meet yours again. Something in your expression halted him mid-sentence.  From behind his goggles Tech’s brows twitched together. There appeared another side of you he’d not yet seen.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The usual hum of the ship's systems in the background seemed to fade into a hushed silence as Tech watched you. Your face was nearly as red as your ribs, eyes blown wide, and fingers dug so tightly into the mattress it looked liable to tear. Where your lips had wavered before, they were now set in a  fine, anxious line as if you’d been caught doing something.More tellingly, Tech noted as he leaned in slightly, your pupils were dilated despite the dim lighting. Beneath his palm, he could feel your heartbeat racing.

His palm yanked you from a fog of self-doubt, grounding you in the intimacy of your shared space. His kneeling in front of you spiraled you into past fantasies. Fantasies of this very scenario. And you knew that big brain was dissecting you, analyzing every nuance in your awkward positioning. 

Tech was too close, you thought. The bunk was too small. You were too exposed. It was all too much. Heat crept through your torso and flushed the skin of your chest.

Tech thumbed through his known catalogue of expressions. The tells you exhibited were slightly off-putting to him, not because they were undesirable but because they were unfamiliar. “Does the pressure hurt? You look uncomfortable”

You caught your breath, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “It’s not…” You choked, the words already coming out wrong. “No. No, I’m not in pain. Not really.” Another wave of heat rushed through you, willing you to push through the embarrassment.

You were already half naked, kriff it.

“Actually, I like it.”

Tech retracted slightly, eyes wide and hand falling from your chest to idly rest at the crook of your hip. “You… enjoy the pain?” His voice quivered with curious shock.

A small, nervous laugh sputtered out of you, an equally nervous hand setting over Tech’s. His body went rigid, only his eyes darting to your hand and back, as you gave him a gentle squeeze. “I liked this.” You gave another, gentler squeeze. “You touching me.”

Those brown eyes returned to your joined hands, a lump bobbing in his throat as he considered his options. This was a far cry from what he’d anticipated, but as he turned your words over one last time all hesitation faded.

All that remained was fascination.

Within your hold, Tech mirrored your touch and pressed his fingers into the soft curve of your hip. He looked up in time to catch you sucking in a breath and pressed further. 

“You enjoy something like this?” he asked, his voice low.

"Yeah, something like that," you whispered back, the proximity and his touch drawing out a confession that felt both frightening and freeing.

Where he’d leaned away earlier, Tech now shifted closer to you. “Is it the skinship you enjoy?” His hand slid up to your waist, his touch deliberate and exploratory. “Is it the comfort of the positioning? Or is it-”

“It’s you.” You cut him off, leaving Tech in a rare moment of stunned silence. You pressed his hand harder into you. “I like it because it’s you touching me.”

Cogs obviously turned in his head. “Is it that you prefer when I am the one to examine you or is it how I am currently touching you.”

“Tech…” Your voice was low and strained. You’d teetered at this edge plenty of times before - the edge of confession. His brothers or sister usually unwittingly saved you in those moments. Without them you tumbled over the edge, words spilling out. “I don’t care how it happens. I’d love it all. You could bite me and I’d be happy.”

“Shall I?” Tech’s response was immediate, his tone devoid of any jest—purely inquisitive, reflecting his desire to understand and engage with your needs.

You stilled and, in the silence between you, you were sure he could hear your heartbeat. “Shall you what?”

“Bite you.” Tech blinked, his question simple and to the point. He wasn’t teasing.

Your answer was immediate, “Bite me.”

He adjusted himself, pushing closer to you while widening your legs. He tilted his head, his eyes scanning you, not with the cold detachment of a medic, but with the focused intensity of someone seeking the perfect point of connection. Settling on the simplest area, Tech turned his hand in yours and brought your wrist close to his face.

You held your breath as he opened his mouth, drawing you closer, and bit the side of your wrist. It wasn’t his teeth that strung a desperate noise from you, but the soft, warmth of his lips driving heat through you. Tech bit softly before releasing you.

His gaze remained where his mouth had been. Turning your wrist over, in his hand, he angled his head back. With a cocked brow, he leveled you a skeptical look. “Did that meet your expectations?”

“Almost.” That one word was a warning sign of your growing greed. How much could you get away with?

Dissatisfied with your answer, Tech’s lips pursed into a frown, “Almost?”

Leaning forward, your hand still suspended in Tech’s, you felt something building between you. Mutual, heavy tension strung you towards him. “Almost,” you affirmed, very aware of the boundary you were toeing.

Tech stood, posturing over you with that same frown. An anxious notion sunk into you - had you pushed too far?

He watched you sit before him, looking for signs of hesitancy or deception but found none. His lips quirked into a half-smile as he noted the hastening rise and fall of your chest and the expectant look about you.

Delicately, he guided you to your feet, leaving little to no room between your bodies and the bunks. “Then perhaps,” He paused, considering his next words carefully, “you can direct me to where exactly would satisfy those expectations.”

A sharp inhale pressed your chest into his, knotting an ache for more inside you. You put weight behind that connection and tilted your head to the side.

With your neck exposed you followed his suggestion. “Try there.��

You couldn’t see his reaction, but you felt the straightening of his back as if to glean a glance at your expression before replying, “Was my previous bite force sufficient?”

“It was nice,” you answered. How much can you ask? The question ran past you and you offered little consideration as you took another step beyond the boundaries between you. “But a little harder this time.”

He needed no further information to make his move. In one motion, he let go of your wrist to hold you in place and plant his mouth over the crook of your neck. He kept you still with one hand at your shoulder and the other at your neck.

Tech swiped his tongue gently over your skin, wetting the space, and just when you wanted to beg him for more he bit down. Electricity shot through you and between your legs, wilting you under the weight of him. A gasping, pleased, giggle escaped you as your fingers dug into his arms, desperate to keep yourself from collapsing. 

Fed by your reaction, Tech repeated himself. A swipe of his tongue and then biting with increasing pressure until you fully fell into him. Your entire body squirmed against him, as if you sought any contact with him you could manage. 

It took no time for the technician to realize that was precisely what you wanted and he found no reason to deny you.

He broke from you only enough to firmly say, “What else will elicit such a response from you?”

You put your face against his chest, willing coherence through the heat coursing through you. Restraint gave way and desire took hold. Chasing the ache between your legs, you slipped your hand between your bodies and over your pants, careful to curve your fingers enough that you pressed into Tech as well.

“Anything you do here will do far more than that.”

It could’ve been the vague wording or perhaps his basic understanding of anatomy that made Tech pause. He pieced together the implication, but did not question the request. Afterall, even a devout trooper such as himself had his own curiosity to sate. He would not let such an opportunity pass.

“Anything?” He asked, lips still hovering over the skin of your neck, the energy behind his intrigue obvious.

Something about his unhindered compliance made you groan, struggling to restrain yourself.

Starving for more you took hold of his chest plate and drug him down to your level

“Anything.” You asserted. 

The cadence of your voice, the strain between syllables, your blatant need put Tech into motion. He knew enough, had done enough ‘research,’ to let instinct take over. 

Tech lifted his head, eyes fixed behind you, and said into your ear. “I’ll need you to turn around.”

Obeying, you turned and braced your hands on the upper bunk for anything that was coming.

With no effort at all, as if he’d done so a hundred times, Tech worked your belt free and swiftly slipped his hand into your pants. 

“I cannot see your reactions. So,” Tech paused while pressing three digits into your mound. He gently lowered his touch until you gave him a sharp inhale and Tech knew he found his mark. At this, he continued, “You will need to vocalize them.”

You could only groan in response to his fingers rolling over your clit. Pleasure curved your back against him, a moan, louder than before, following when his rhythm hit an exceptionally sensitive spot.

“That is more like it.” Tech said with his chin notched over your shoulder, keeping you pressed against him for the best view of his maneuvers.

His fingers moved through different motions. Back and forth swipes evolved into slow, small circles. Your head fell back, neck limp, when his middle finger slipped over your folds to the wet pooling between them. It was a shallow exploration, testing waters he’d never touched.

Curiosity overrode his attention and Tech pulled his hand from your pants. Pulling his hand where you both could see, Tech rubbed his middle finger against his thumb. Traces of you wet Tech’s finger, leaving a string between his fingers when they relaxed. 

“Tell me, is this your typical response to such behaviors?” Tech asked, an air of intrigue in his voice. “More specifically- the amount of fluids produced.”

Your head suddenly dropped forward, finding as much humor as embarrassment in his question. You scoffed, “Are you asking me if I’m usually this wet?”

The question jolted Tech. “I…” He studied the sheen on his fingers once more as he considered the question. It took only a second or two for his fingers to journey downwards again. “I suppose that is another way to put it.”

“Then no,” you were interrupted when his touch immediately dialed in on your clit. A soft brush and you were hissing as you admitted, “It’s because it is your touch that I’m this way.”

“Curious.” Tech mumbled, simultaneously flushing himself against you and quickly hooking his fingers back into you. Pride marked his face with a smirk and he said, “I quite like hearing that.” 

His digits curled against your walls while pressing his palm against your clit. He had you in his hand, making easy work of bringing you to your knees, and still Tech didn’t fully realize all that he was doing to you. Even when small tremors shook your legs and breath was escaping you, Tech never eased his pace.

Not until your hands left the bunk in front of you to cling onto him did he notice what was about to happen. With one hand at his shoulder and the other grasping and your other gripping the forearm working you up, you pressed back into him. Your muscles tensed against him as you grinded into the codpiece at your back.

“Let me hear you.” Tech said in a low voice, lips brushing the skin before biting down on you. The pressure mounted slowly until you broke.

All of the tension that had been twisting through you snapped. Pleasure whined out of you, the euphoria of it all driving you to move with Tech’s touch despite the tremors shaking your legs. 

Only when your legs gave way did Tech ease his rhythm to support your weight. He kept you upright with an arm around your waist and a hand in yours.

After allowing you a few moments to breathe, Tech cleared his throat to ask, “Do you… need to sit down?”

Although facial expressions didn’t grant him the full scope of a person’s intentions or thoughts, they certainly gave Tech some insight. Having not seen your face, let alone having experienced intimacy like this before, Tech tread carefully.

A laugh resonated from you, catching Tech slightly off guard. Humorous was not a descriptor he thought matched your scenario.

“I’m fine.” You said, your voice smooth and pleased. Angling your head, you peaked over your shoulder at the tall clone. “Though, I’d like you to sit.”

“I did not exert enough energy to call for concern. I am fine.” Blunt logic took its usual foothold in Tech’s tone. He began disentangling himself from you, but you kept a firm grip on his hand.

You turned, simultaneously pulling him with you and repositioning you both so that Tech stood between you and the bunks. There was a glow to you, a satisfied, warm smile stretching over your face. Tech held his breath as your hand rested on his chest plate.

You gave him one small push, and despite him being more than capable of resisting, he humored you and sat back. Although, it was more accurate to say he was humoring you as much as he was his own interest. It was just that he wasn’t sure what more there was to explore given that he’d accomplished his objective, seeing you to completion.

Leaning down to his level, there was a snicker in your voice as you said, “You don’t need to look so scared.”

Offended by the notion, Tech clicked his tongue. “That is hardly the case. I am not even sure what would call for fear at this moment.”

Leaning ever so slightly farther, you lowered your voice to barely a whisper. “Then remove your codpiece.”

Tech pulled back, getting a better view of your face to confirm that you were indeed serious. Maintaining eye contact, he followed your order and tossed the armor onto the bunk.

He hadn’t expected there to be so much pressure relieved in the motion. Touching you consumed so much of his attention, Tech failed to notice how hard his cock was pressed against his armor.

By the look on your face, you’d not expected such a reaction either. A sizable bulge stretched his blacks tight, practically begging to be released.

“Do you know what I intend to do, Tech?” Your tongue wet your lips, eager to start but not assumptious enough to do so without consent.

“To a certain extent, but I’m open to demonstration.” Midway through his sentence, you were already on your knees. Your hand palmed his bulge in time with his last syllable, earning a gulp from the clone.

More pressure from you and a subsequent groan from Tech fueled both of you into fumbling together to pull back his blacks. There were no words remaining between you when his cock sprung free. It postured forward towards you, already throbbing from your brief touch.

A significant twitch pushed a bead of precum down his cock. You watched it slide down his length, leaving a trail over the veins of his cock to rest on his balls. Lowering yourself, you swept a thumb over the precum to smear it up his cock.

Surprisingly, it elicited the softest noise from Tech. Your hand froze in place, eyes darting up to Tech’s and his expression sent a jolt straight to your pussy. Just the sight of him, mouth slightly ajar and brows pulled together in anticipation, made you just as turned on as his physical touch.

Moreso even.

Eyes locked on his, you extended your touch to wrap around him while opening your mouth. Tech couldn’t resist breaking eye contact to watch as your tongue touched him and slid up his length.

Tech found it difficult to pin a description for what your tongue had him feeling. It was unlike anything he’d felt and nothing close to what his own hand was capable of. Amidst the swell of pleasure, Tech was distracted by the fact that nothing may surpass the sensation.

Until your tongue circled the tip of his cock and you took him entirely into your mouth. Tech jolted forward, holding your head in his hands as in a feeble attempt to control the electricity coursing from his cock.

It did nothing to deter you. If anything, his extreme reaction quickened your pace. A few bobs on his cock and you took him in until he stretched into your throat.

He grit his teeth but couldn’t hold back a groan. You answered by swiping your tongue against him as you pulled back, humming as you moved. Your hand quickly followed your lips, matching your groove as you worked his cock.

Tech’s fingers dug into your hair and his thighs tensed. Without slowing, you glanced up, trailing your tongue up the length of his cock to showcase your open mouth. For a split second, you saw the whites of his eyes. His stunned expression brought you a smile as you held his stare for a beat longer and then ducked back down.

Something about your momentary pause, perhaps your pleased acknowledgement, made his cock swell enough for you to open slightly wider to accommodate him.

A few more smooth bobs over his cock and Tech twitched and writhed for you. His hips shifted in place, unable to sit through the tension coiling in his core. One particular pass of your mouth squeezed him to where he came completely undone.

He writhed, bucking against ecstasy he’d never felt. Before the stimulation overwhelmed him you gently slip up and off of him, taking care to clean any excess mess on your way.

Where you thought he would be overwhelmed, eyes shut and muscles tensed, Tech was rather collected. He was slumped back against the wall, taking even breaths, while he examined his exposed self. Albeit already flushed, Tech did finally notice your eyes on him and another wave of red brightened his cheeks and ears. 

Averting his eyes, Tech quickly fixed himself, tucking his member away and clicking his armor back into place.

“That was…” His hands, finished with their work, paused as he considered an appropriate descriptor but shifted to his goggles as he continued, “Rather stimulating.”

You coughed out a laugh, wiping your face and clearing your throat as you rose to your feet. His eyes followed you as you rose over him. Wiping your hand on the fabric of your pants, you extended the now half-way clean hand.

He didn’t hesitate in taking it, ducking as he cleared the bunk beds and again towered over you.

“Did that meet your expectations?” You couldn’t bring yourself to name the act and banked on Tech sparing you the clarification.

Tech’s head tilted to the side, his eyes narrowing for a moment before softening and falling to his utility belt. He fidgeted with nonexistent adjustments, casually saying, “I was raised as a soldier of The Republic. That was a situation that I ever expected to find myself in, therefore I have no standard to compare against and hold no expectations.” 

He cleared his throat again, but still avoided your eye as he withdrew his datapad. “I assumed you’d have known that.”

You blinked once then twice and said. “I never really considered that.”

Tech side stepped out of your way, unsure of what to do now that tensions were settled. Before he could fully step away, you grabbed him by his elbow. He looked back at you, caught off by the additional contact.

“Now you have something to compare it against.”

His eyes widened and mouth opened to respond yet nothing came out for a moment. It took a moment for it to compute, but he finally nodded and turned away again. You noticed his hand moving to his goggles again. “Y-yes, I suppose you are correct… assuming that happens again.”

You snorted, his sudden shyness was cute. Breezing past him, you made it to the control board before him to open the Marauder’s hatch. Sparing him the additional attention you continued to the exit, saying over your shoulder. “Oh it will.”

Still reeling from the earlier heat, Tech stood stunned in place watching you exit. None of that went as planned and, as his attention fell back to his datapad, he found it didn’t upset him. He replayed your little promise and smiled, suddenly ready to plan for the next time.