rinixo

trying to sleep | The Mandalorian x Reader | Non-linear oneshots featuring you, a university scholar from Naboo who is helping The Mandalorian seek out the Jedi.

in the morning, when we see to have not Once and Never More cherry waves holy terrain spectre the end of all our exploring give it up (i'm complacent) wisdom tells me to turn away thrones and people and cities sulfur and granite test my worth (in blood) someday ashamed aquae vivae divine battle emphemeris interval

praeceptor | Tech/Reader

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Your masters had often warned that your enthusiasm would one day lead you into treacherous situations. They weren't wrong, but the danger you faced now was likely beyond anything they had imagined.

Rain lashed against the walls of the abandoned house where you and Clone Captain Howzer had taken refuge. The mission had gone disastrously off course.

As a Jedi, you were accustomed to working with clone troopers, but this was your first solo command without a senior knight. It was also the first time you had been sent out with just one other person, instead of a small squad.

The war had created desperate situations, and this mission was no exception. While the situation on Ryloth was not as treacherous as other fronts, it still provided its fair share of battle opportunities. You and Howzer were tasked with extracting assets from a separatist holdout, one of many popping up across the planet’s surface. Nervous but eager to prove yourself, you had been selected to lead the mission, with the seasoned captain deferring to your leadership with grace. Everything had been going smoothly until a few hours ago when a moment of reckless action led you straight into a droid ambush.

Deflecting blaster fire with your saber, you watched as Howzer tried to break through their defenses. All seemed manageable until a clever droid launched a grenade towards your position. Howzer heroically threw himself in front of you, blocking the grenade with his armored body. To your horror, he rolled away, and you braced for the explosion, only to see the grenade release a puff of green-tinged smoke instead.

Chalking the dud grenade up to luck, you nonetheless were forced to flee before more reinforcements arrived. With the storm preventing extraction, you decided to spend the night here and attempt the mission again at first light.

Howzer sat across from you, slowly removing his armor. You noticed how he winced, and his murmur of "I’m okay. Just sore," did little to ease your concern.

Though you had been stationed on Ryloth for several cycles, you had worked with Howzer only a handful of times before this mission. You knew he had been assigned as your second in command on purpose - he was known for his ability to get jobs done without any major fanfare. You felt guilty for mucking up what should have been another routine mission, knowing you could expect chastisement from your elders back at the temple.

A hiss made you look up. You had an uncanny gift for sensing others' emotions more acutely than most Jedi. Clones of higher rank, like Howzer, were harder to read, but you had been feeling waves of discomfort and tension from him since settling down. Had he sustained an injury you hadn’t seen?

“I know some healing arts,” you offered amicably. “Perhaps I can offer some relief—”

“No,” Howzer interrupted, his bluntness making you blink.

Your heart sank, fearing he was irritated with you. Throughout your life, you had been told you could be too much, too present, too helpful. ‘Stop hovering,’ they said. ‘Stop trying to fix problems before they even happen.’ But how could you? You felt everything so deeply - people’s anxiety, their fears and their excitement. Helping was second nature to you, and unfortunately so was the tunnel vision that came along with it.

This mission had been a test of your ability to show restraint and patience, to gauge your aptitude to lead squads on your own without needing someone else to check you. Instead, it had been a textbook example of how spectacularly you could get things to go sideways. All is as the Force wills it, you had been told time and time again. All you could think is why the Force insisted on making things so hard for you in particular.

Hours later, after a small meal, the rain continued to roar heavily. You had been lying in the darkness for what felt like an eternity, unable to fall asleep. The oppressive emotions emanating from the man across the room were overwhelming. Discomfort and tension had morphed into intense heat and strain, mingled with a pain that was impossible for you to ignore.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you tried to meditate on the sound of the rain to distract your senses. The whirlwind of feeling emanating from Howzer was overpowering, however, and you let out a defeated groan. Resting was not an option.

You rose from the bed and approached the clone. Howzer hadn’t lain down; he was hunched over on the edge of his cot, his arms dangling loosely over his thighs.

“You’ve gotten worse,” you said, clearing your throat. He glanced up, concern etched on his face. “I can sense it.”

“My apologies, commander —” he began, but you raised a hand to stop him.

“There’s nothing to apologize for. If anyone should be sorry, it’s me. It’s my fault you’re in this situation. I made a mistake, and you paid the price.”

“It’s my job, ma’am. My duty.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Clones and their damned built-in sense of self-sacrifice. All too willing to give life and limb, hardly thinking about themselves when it came to the safety of others.

“Please, let me try to help you, Howzer,” you asked again. “If not for yourself, then for the mission?”

He swallowed roughly. “With all due respect, ma’am, I don’t think this is something you can help with.”

“Don’t be so sure,” you replied with a half-smile. Howzer sighed, closed his eyes, and nodded reluctantly.

Closing your eyes, you knelt in front of Howzer and gently placed your hand on his shoulder. You reached out with the Force, pressing softly against the barrier of his consciousness. What was usually a strong wall of resistance had worn down over time, and with a gentle nudge, you slipped through.

Instantly, you were bombarded with raw emotions. You felt the anxious flutter of his pulse as if it were your own. You struggled to navigate the turbulent sea of sensations coursing through Howzer—expectation, dread, passion—all barely restrained by a fraying thread.

For a fleeting moment, Howzer’s essence became yours, and you gasped as you uncovered the source of his turmoil. Desire surged through his veins, colored dark green like the smoke from the grenade. It pulsed - no, throbbed, igniting his synapses like wildfire. Stillness was agony, the brush of your hand on his shoulder like a salve.

You opened your eyes, pulling away. Howzer was tense, coiled tightly like a snake ready to strike. A bead of sweat trickled from his brow, his pupils dilated and dark in the dim light.

“The grenade,” you said softly. “It did this?”

“Yes,” Howzer replied shortly. A knot of concern coiled in your stomach.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologized again. “I-I’ve never encountered a toxin like this. I don’t know how to help you.”

Howzer breathed out roughly through his nose. “Didn’t think so. It’s an enhanced libidinous agent. They’re meant to be thrown into air vents, gas out whole rooms. And I took a whole one straight to the face.”

“You’ve seen these before?” You queried, and he nodded. A million questions were begging to be asked, but you resisted and kept to the most pertinent ones.

“Do you know how to make it stop?”

“Usually you can just wait it out,” Howzer mumbled. “But, uh - it’s…very hard to ignore.”

You thought for a moment, piecing things together. Your experiences with sex were limited to the lewd holonovels your fellows had snuck in and distributed amongst each other like contraband, and the occasional burst of feeling from people thinking loudly about their own escapades. A poor substitute, you knew, but it would have to do.

“If we have sex, will that help?” You offered.

Howzer choked at your blunt suggestion, eyes widening in shock.

You folded your hands neatly in your lap, patiently waiting for his response. All the while, you could still feel the emotions rolling off his body. He was making a very pointed effort not to stare at your chest, or thighs, or stars forbid your lips. You were suddenly self-conscious in a way you had never felt before.

“We couldn’t - do you even understand what you’re saying?” Howzer asked, incredulity coloring his words.

You nodded. “Yes.” It wasn’t a lie, per se. You just hoped that with his mind as impacted as it was, the fact that you were a virgin and had never so much as kissed anyone before would go unnoticed.

“You’re a Jedi,” he said weakly, running out of ways to give you an out.

“The code forbids attachment, not sex,” you said with nervous amusement.

Howzer swallows roughly, staring up at the ceiling. His hands clench and unclench, and after a moment he looks back down at where you’re sat and nods shortly before leaning back in invitation.

You climb into his lap carefully, feeling the heat of his skin through his blacks. He’s tense, and as you settle down you try to project as much calmness and ease as you can.

“Is this ok?” You ask quietly, and hear him take a sharp inhale. You take his arms tightening around you as a ‘yes’. Leaning forward, you let out a soft hum as he unexpectedly presses his flushed face against your neck. You hear him inhale deeply, the hesitancy in his grip loosening as he drinks in the scent of your arousal. “Sweet” he says quietly, mouthing roughly against the arch of your throat.

The way Howzer touches you feels strange to your inexperienced mind. His hands slide under your top, rough palms massaging your breasts. He kisses just under your ear, making your head droop to the side to give him more access.

You can feel him, hot and hard in his lap. Nervous anticipation floods you to your core, and you shift experimentally. A choked moan from the man currently nipping at your exposed shoulder confirms that it was the right move.

Feeling braver, and trying to pretend you know what you’re doing, you move one hand down from his shoulder, you slip it under his drawers. He chokes again as you stroke him to his full length, tip leaking what feels like endless thin liquid.

With what feels like practiced ease, Howzer slips your leggings down your waist to pool around one ankle. Readjusting you in his lap, he lines himself up with your cunt. Not once does he take his eyes off your face, gaze intense and burning.

The pressure of penetration surprises you. “Oh!” You say softly as Howzer spreads your thighs further apart.

“There we go,” he mutters lowly, more to himself than to you. “Just like that- fuck -“ His head falls back, eyes closed as your soft heat engulfs him fully. His cock pulses strong enough for you to feel it, his abdomen twitching, and you realized that he had just cum from that first instance of penetration.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans again, and with his hands on your hips begins moving you back and forth, up and down. His cock was still hard as iron inside of you, and you grasped his biceps to steady yourself against his desperate pace.

Curious, you reach out with the force again, slipping easily into the wild bramble of his thoughts. It’s impossible to parse out any one singular feeling, his lust-addled brain focused on chasing its relief through your body. It’s starting to feel good for you too, and with one particularly harsh thrust, you mewl. There’s something bright building in you, centered where Howzer is rocking into you.

The sounds you make snap Howzer’s gaze back to your face. He moves one hand to grasp your chin, holding your head still so that he can slot his mouth over yours. With his touch, you are gifted with flashes of thought, and emotion - the way you move effortlessly through battle, the way the light catches the myriad of colors in your irises -

You had never noticed, but he had been noticing you for a while now. Always seeking you out, wondering if you’ve come back from your missions unscathed. The mention of your name makes his chest tighten. He’s spent many a night in his bunk thinking about the plush softness of your lips, your hands, your cunt-

Howzer is infatuated with you, you realize as you begin to cum. His earlier tense refusal wasn’t due to irritation but dread - dread at the thought of finally being able to have you but never truly have you. He despairs at the thought of this being the only time he’ll ever be able to feel you against him, be inside of you.

It’s pure, unadulterated yearning, and it makes you shudder. Your clothes have come completely off at this point, and Howzer moves to lay you down on the cot, not once leaving the tight heat of your cunt.

“Perfect,” he moans into your shoulder, one of your thighs hoisted under a strong forearm. “I knew you’d be, my perfect girl -“

More flashes, memories of him watching you train. Hiding a smile as tales of your latest mishaps are passed around the barracks. He loves your eagerness and your determination. He knows you are capable of great things - if only he was allowed to get you on your own, there’s so much he could show you…

You gulp air, pressed down against the mattress as Howzer ruts into you. You’ve unintentionally made a bridge between your two consciousnesses, the lines between you quickly blurring away until you can’t tell where his mind ends and yours begins. He pours his obsession into you with every rock of his hips.

Pushing on his shoulders, you make him lift up off you. He looks down at you, eyes hooded. You can see yourself in his gaze - bare, slick with sweat and other fluids, lips swollen. Howzer mutters your name before lowering his mouth to kiss the side of your jaw. His pace slows, arms wrapping around you in an embrace. Rolling to the side, he hugs you close to his body, one of your legs thrown over his hip as he continues to chase his release.

“You’re gonna kill me, kid,” he murmurs, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your chin. Your eyes flutter shut, allowing yourself to be drowned in the sea of his affection.

Tech’s sat on your floor, surrounded by communicator parts. He had offered to repair it for you when you mentioned it was malfunctioning. You had agreed, knowing that even if you said it was fine, you'd find it missing one day and returned, good as new, the next.

He comes over to your place more often, now. The first few times you had hovered anxiously, unsure of if you should find some way to entertain him, worried that you were boring him.

"I enjoy being in your company," Tech had stated matter-of-factly, halting your nervous fussing. Since then, you’d relaxed, going about your own activities while he worked on various projects.

He had built you some clever devices, intended to make your life easier. A tea kettle that would ping to your wrist comm, letting you know when it was at the perfect brewing temperature. A sensor on your door that actually worked, so you didn’t have to risk opening it up just to find some drunk passed out on your step.

Tech struggled to give voice to his feelings. He sometimes lacked the nuance that came easily to others regarding certain topics. It was easier for him to simply do. Every time he soldered a wire or tightened a bolt, it was a little testament to his affection towards you.

The sound of the bathroom door caught his attention. He watched as you emerged, toweling your damp hair, dressed only in underwear, content to let the rest of your body air dry.

He appreciated that you felt comfortable enough to share some of your quirks around him. In fact, Tech appreciated many of the small habits he observed in you - this one included, and not just because you were bare. Sometimes, he found himself musing about them while waiting for data to compile or during hyperspace journeys.

The way you flip your tools in your hands idly. There was a callus on one of your fingers, from the friction, and he could sometimes feel it when you touched him in certain sensitive places.

The lines between your eyes, when you frown. The subtle asymmetry of your brows, one rising higher than the other.

He likes that you don’t roll your eyes when he rambles, sitting through many impromptu lectures in good grace. The way that you’ll remember where he last left off, ask genuine questions, and invite him to continue.

He appreciated how he could sense when you wanted him to kiss you: your eyes darting to his lips, hands tensing and relaxing.

He cherished the tremble of your skin under his touch, whether his palm was spread over your abdomen or between your shoulder blades.

You sat on the edge of your bed, towel draped over your arm, looking humorously at the parts spread out on the ground.

“You’re going through a lot of trouble for me,” you joke. “I’d still like you even if you didn’t fix everything I own.”

“It’s no trouble,” Tech replies softly. Your knee is next to his head, droplets of water evaporating into the dry air. He can see the goose prickles on your skin.

A soft smile on your lips. “Don’t you have to go soon?”

Tech hums thoughtfully. His squamates were becoming suspicious of his increased absences. It was Echo who had approached the topic most directly, weeks ago on a long hyperspace transit back to Ord Mantell.

Tech didn’t know exactly why it bothered him or why he felt somewhat possessive over the knowledge. Over you. He had kept his tone neutral in response, hoping Echo would get the hint that it wasn’t something he wanted to talk about. The former ARC trooper didn’t look convinced but had dropped the subject.

It didn’t stop him from paying you a visit the very next day, however. And the day after that. And most days since then.

“Yes,” Tech decides. “But I want to be here.” Placing his hands on your knees, he pushes himself up and over you. You eye him, leaning back to keep his face in view.

He slots himself over your body, pressing his nose just above your belly button. Your skin, still slightly damp, smells wonderful.

“Tech," you mewl halfheartedly. “I just washed…”

He trails his nose down to the apex of your thighs. “You can wash again,” he breathes, kissing the fabric of your panties over your mound.

You must realize it’s a lost cause because you lean back with a sigh and throw an arm over your tired eyes.

He kisses you through the fabric, suckling softly, The fabric grows wetter between his tongue and your slick. He can see the color of your skin through the translucency, swollen and waiting for him. But he has the time, and the patience, and the desire to make this last.

Pulling the fabric to the side, he flicks his tongue over your clit, making you squirm. Your thighs twitch, and he knows you want to prop them up. He obliges you in this way, letting one of them lift over his shoulder. The other he pats, enjoying the plush way they mold under his hand.

More than one previous lover had made remarks about ‘using his mouth for other things’, insinuating that his clever tongue could be used for more than wit. It had never really sat well with him before, the suggestion that he was too much, too talkative, that his mouth would be more useful to them elsewhere.

Tech didn’t feel that way about you. He could spend hours between your legs, memorizing you through touch and taste alone. He took great offense at leaving any job half-done, and this was no exception. He wasn’t satisfied until you were satisfied, and even then he would be so hyper-focused at times that it wasn’t until you’d pry him away with shaking hands that he’d realize you were moments away from passing out from pleasured exhaustion.

Tech moves the hand on your thigh down to ease two long fingers into you. Glancing up, he can see those lines between your brows, eyes screwed shut. He feels you tense and then relax, caught between adjusting to the new sensation and giving in to the continued assault from his mouth.

He’s careful, delicate almost. His tongue curls around your clit, his teeth just barely creating pressure. You pulse with it and he releases, wanting to draw this out further. He likes when you’re desperate for it, writhing and rambling nonsense. It won’t be until you’ve begged, pleaded, bargained that he’ll let you come. Tech likes to be awash in your praise - it makes his cock throb to hear how good he does it, how good he makes you feel.

It’s more than just physical pleasure, too. Tech supposes he could have stopped himself from falling in love with you. Love was powerful and dangerous. It wasn’t predictable and defied attempts at pathology. It required one to give up control and give in to vulnerability. It wasn’t logical, and it wasn’t something he had ever prioritized before. Lust was much simpler in comparison.

You threw unknown variables into the carefully charted graph of his mind, his perception of who he was, and his place in the galaxy.

It was overwhelming, at times. Something that would need to be parsed out eventually, tallied, and taken inventory of. But for now, he channeled it into attending to your body, focusing solely not on what he thought but on what he could feel, on the lust coursing through him.

The shadows on the wall change and the dimmed lights click on before Tech’s finished with you, pulling back to see you panting. This was some of his best work so far, he thinks, wiping his chin absently. His cock, pressing against his blacks, is achingly hard. He lets it pulse as he watches you, enjoying the edging sensation. He’ll let you decide, once you’ve gathered yourself, if you’d like to go any further. And if you decide that you’re tapped out, that’s all right - just as much as he likes to feel your mouth on him or be buried in your cunt, he likes to sit back and have you watch him stroke himself until he’s coming hard over his hands or spraying over your stomach.

You’ll attempt to apologize later, but he’ll quiet you with his lips. Why should you apologize, when you’ve given him as much as you have? When he desires you so intensely? When you sate the monstrous appetite he didn’t know he possessed? He’d have to find the time, the courage, to figure out what it all meant. What he wanted, what you wanted, and what - realistically - was possible.

But now was not that time, he knows, as you push yourself up and pull him closer. Tech holds your head as your trembling hands pull down his blacks, breath leaving him shakily through his nose as you take him into your mouth.

The persistent knock at your door jolted you from slumber's embrace. With a groggy eye, you checked the time, puzzled by the unexpected disturbance at this hour. You were not expecting anyone, and it was not uncommon for someone stumbling home from the bars to mistake your door for their own.

Another insistent rap echoed, urging you to rise. Rubbing away sleep, you approached the door, activating the sensor to reveal its caller.

A shock of blond hair greeted you. "Omega?" Surprise flickered as you took in her presence, rarely seen without her protective entourage of brothers.

"Tech sent me to fetch you. Says he needs your help," she explained, a bounce in her step.

Raising a brow, you inquired, "Help with what?"

"Dunno," she shrugged. "We just got back from a mission. He said it’s urgent."

A tinge of concern pricked your senses, but you nodded, excusing yourself to prepare. Unsure of what Tech could require, you hastily gathered an assortment of tools, stuffing them into your pack just in case.

Omega chattered incessantly as you made your way to the hangar, but your thoughts were elsewhere, mulling over the possibilities. Tech, with his incredible intellect, rarely sought assistance. Yet here you were, summoned for some unknown crisis.

Upon reaching the hangar, you found the Marauder parked in its usual spot, but Tech was conspicuously absent. Hunter, Wrecker, and Echo loitered nearby, each absorbed in their own tasks.

"What's the situation?" you inquired as you approached. Hunter glanced up from sharpening his knife, acknowledging your presence.

"Dunno. Tech asked for you. He's inside," he gestured towards the closed ramp.

"Is everything all right?"

"He's being a jerk," Wrecker grumbled, busy with a crate of explosives. "Been like that since we got back."

"Kicked us out of the Marauder," Echo added. "Said not to return until he says so.”

What an odd situation, you thought to yourself. Most of the time it was others taking time away from Tech, not the other way around. And while he could be blunt, he was rarely outright rude or mean.

With a groan, Hunter rose and motioned to the rest of the squad. ”We’re grabbing a bite to eat, freshening up supplies," Hunter explained, patting your shoulder as he passed. You thought you detected a smirk before he turned away. ”Good luck.”

—

The Marauder's door whispered shut, leaving you in the subdued light of the corridor. A peculiar tension hung in the air.

"Tech? It's me," you called tentatively into the quiet.

"Up here," his voice directed you toward the front of the ship. Tech's familiar silhouette was outlined against the closed shutters.

Approaching the cockpit, you spoke again, uncertainty coloring your words. "Omega said you needed me? I brought some tools -"

"They won't be necessary," Tech cut in. As you neared, you could see him seated in the pilot's chair, hands clasped in front of his mouth. His brow was furrowed as if in concentration, though his gaze remained fixed on the floor.

"What's going on? Are you hurt?" you asked, setting your pack down.

“No," came his flat response. "Not exactly." His tone was flat, controlled and measured, but you got the feeling he was trying very hard to keep it that way.

You observed a bead of sweat trickle down his temple, his leg bouncing with nervous energy.

More tense silence. Patiently, you awaited his explanation.

"We were acquiring a shipment of a certain plant, known for inducing a hypnotic effect when distilled. While in the greenhouses, I was unexpectedly exposed to it."

"I made a… miscalculation," Tech continued, his voice strained. "I didn't anticipate such a visceral reaction to its raw form."

"What do you mean?" you prompted gently.

"I suspect that, in normal individuals, the reaction would resemble the amatory agent you encountered in that abandoned outpost. But for me, an enhanced clone -" He paused, exhaling sharply through his nose.

"I'm not certain, but I believe its effects were amplified within my nervous system," he explained. “I was designed with enhanced intellect. My brain works faster and more efficiently than others. And it seems that instead of impacting me less, metabolizing faster, it impacted me more.”

A beat of silence stretched between you, anxiety beginning to grip your chest. "That sounds… unpleasant," you offered sympathetically.

He exhaled through his nose in an exasperated attempt at a laugh. ”Normal decontamination procedures didn't work," Tech explained, his voice carrying a weight of urgency. "I tried several antitoxins. I only have one option left, which is why I asked for you."

His head lifted, revealing a desperation in his eyes that you hadn't seen before. Behind the tint of his goggles, his dilated pupils betrayed his distress.

"Please understand that you can refuse," he said, his jaw tense with effort. "I debated whether I should even ask this of you, considering what it could do to you - to us."

You understood his unspoken request, though a part of you hesitated. Another bead of sweat traced down his jaw. You thought about how lucky you had been to have Tech to help you with your situation. Sometimes, late at night, you thought about what would have happened if he wasn’t there to help, and with resolve, you decided.

"Of course," you said, swallowing hard and setting down your bag. "I'll help you, Tech."

Relief softened his features slightly as he rose from his seat, replaced by a dark intensity. You stepped back slightly, shorter form quickly dwarfed in comparison to his height.

"You're the only person I trust for this," he murmured, voice cracking. Moving towards you, Tech took your hands. Guiding you towards the rear of the ship where the bunks were located, he used a slight stumble as an excuse to hold you more firmly.

"It's going to worsen before it gets better," you warned as Tech helped remove your top.

"I do not like losing control of my faculties," he admitted, his voice strained. "This is…difficult for me."

"I understand," you reassured him, more clothes slipping off as you moved towards your destination.

There was a flash of desperation in his eyes before he turned you around and guided you onto a low cot.

"Forgive my haste," Tech said, his voice stilted as he pulled down your undergarments. The sound of his own clothes hitting the floor followed.

You were not exactly ready for it when he entered you, and there was a slight burn and pinch as he settled into place behind you. Your breath hitched, and you bit down on the pillow you were clutching and winced through it.

Tech hissed out some unintelligible curses, his form coming down to press against you. His cock felt like iron, pressed in as far as it could go. You tried to spread your thighs wider, allowing him more space to chase relief.

He settled his face into the crook of your neck, and you could feel the rumble of the groan that left him.

“You’re so good,” he breathed out. “So good…” You flushed at his words, remembering how it felt the first time he had touched you. If Tech’s reaction was compounded, as he theorized, then you could only imagine how being inside of you was making him feel now. The initial feeling of relief was barely more than an afterthought once the need for further stimulation took over.

He was rambling, nonsensical professions of how tight, wet, perfect you were. His breath was hot against your ear, perfect composure betrayed by the substance coursing through his body.

It was animalistic, how he was mounted over you. Tech was someone you did not initially associate with ferocity. He was calculating, and intense. You would even venture so far as to call him egotistical and devious at times. His strengths were far more internal than external, but as he moved his entire weight over your body, the only word you could think of was fury.

Fury at his inability to solve this problem on his own. Fury at his incredible capacity for intelligence and logic being overrun by forces outside of his control. You knew how it felt because you had felt it yourself, in your own way, all those months ago in a dusty storeroom.

“I saw visions,” Tech croaked from where he had his face buried in the side of your neck. You tried to focus your eyesight. “From the plant. D-did you…?”

“N-no,” you managed to gasp out, breath hitching with every thrust. The desperation, the intense burning in your blood, the mindless pursuit of satisfaction, yes, but visions had not been a part of your experience.

A shallow laugh, and he brought his face up from your skin. “Under different circumstances, perhaps I would have a better explanation for what they were exactly.”

Suddenly he moved from inside of you, and before you could collect yourself you were flipped over onto your back. Tech hovered above you, spreading your legs to let himself back between.

“Whatever they were,” Tech breathed as he sheathed himself back into you, “I did not fully comprehend the meaning of desire before now.”

He lifted your leg up, still thrusting slowly into you. He pressed his lips gently to the side of your knee, staring at you with dark, hooded eyes.

You couldn’t tear your gaze away from his. This was a side of Tech you had never seen.

One of his hands came to settle across your exposed neck. You swallowed roughly, feeling his hand move with the motion. It was not hard enough to hurt or do any damage, but the pressure was unfamiliar. The sensation of your airway being ever so slightly restricted reminded you that the man currently fucking you was dangerous, powerful. He was someone designed to analyze every detail, to come up with solutions to problems before they even happened, for winning battles other soldiers would have lost.

His hand moved up, a thumb caressing the curve of your jaw, and you closed your eyes with the motion of it.

He had your life in his hands. He was using you, and you were letting him because you trusted this man utterly. Even with his current state, you could feel the genuine affection he had towards you. He was rough, straddling the line, but you knew, deeply knew, that he would never willingly hurt you.

Here, now, he was no longer a soldier, a carefully constructed intellectual weapon designed for war. He was simply a man, reduced to his most basic, instinctual needs. And you were the only being in the galaxy who he sought to sate the fire inside of him.

The hand that was holding your leg up moved to where he was pistoning in and out of you, and rubbed his thumb over your clit.

“Is it like this for everyone?” Tech’s voice is hoarse. You frown up at him, unsure of what he means. His eyes flutter, then close. He’s lost in between your thighs, that ironclad resolve long gone with every squeeze of your cunt around him.

You know he’s close. You’ve learned his tells - his brow furrows, exaggerating the lines ever-present in his forehead. His hips falter but his grip on you holds tighter, desperate to maintain as much control as he can.

You asked him once what his orgasm felt like. He had described to you in detail how his testicles would tighten and his cock head would grow stiff in the microseconds before ejaculation. He had you stick your finger into your mouth and suck, explaining that it was the closest you could get to experiencing the same kind of sensation. You remember the intensity that he had watched you with, eyes scanning as if to memorize the way your tongue suckled around your fingers.

The relief that comes with his orgasm is palpable. He hitches your thighs under his arms and presses his entire form into you, making you squirm and gasp. The breath is knocked out of you as he fucks his spend as deep as it will go, the burning in his blood leaving him with every rock of his body.

You spend hours there with him, moved into every position you can think of and several you couldn’t. The initial pinch of his cock into you, unprepared, is replaced by what feels like a never-ending trickle of his spend out of you.

With every orgasm, he presses his mouth to your cheeks, your eyelids, your forehead, your mouth. And you accept them with the eagerness of someone who knows they are needed, desired, yearning to be filled. You lose yourself to exhaustion long before he is sated, content in the knowledge that Tech is finding what he needs in you.

--

The sound of the Marauder’s shutters closing rumbled softly through the empty cockpit. Tech powered down all but the most rudimentary systems - proximity sensors, life support, etc. He had the ship to himself for the next few hours, under the guise of making repairs. His brothers and Omega were off elsewhere, completing their own tasks. And while he had been making repairs, he was finished in enough time to indulge himself.

You were gone, away on a job off-world for a couple of weeks. Tech would not have considered himself to have a particularly high libido, but he realized he had become used to seeing you at least once a week for a friendly ‘get together’, sans clothing. He felt a bit more pent up than he would otherwise, and while it was nothing he couldn’t just power through, he had the time and materials to satisfy himself. Materials he had been holding on to for this exact moment.

When you had mentioned you’d be gone for a bit, he hadn’t thought much of it. However, as your departure drew nearer, he felt himself becoming irritated at the idea of being celibate until you returned. Not irritated at you specifically, but just at the situation as a whole, and perhaps just a little at himself for the dependency.

The two of you weren’t a couple. Neither of you felt it necessary to make that jump. The lives you led did not leave much time for thinking about the future. Both of you knew, deep down, that this was temporary. It was a kind of unspoken agreement, not said so much as felt, in lingering gazes, candid goodbyes, and long nights alone.

You were friends…friends that slept together occasionally. Who promised to tell the other if they were sleeping with anyone else (for health reasons, of course), though neither of you had ever entertained the idea. For you it was mainly a matter of security - Tech, being the first man you slept with, was someone you trusted to guide you through the journey of becoming sexually active. For Tech, it was a matter of familiarity - he was attracted to you, the two of you got along, and you were relatively nearby. Why waste time and energy seeking out different partners if there was someone who could satisfy those urges already accessible?

Solution-focused as ever and faced with the knowledge of impending abstinence, Tech approached you the day before you left with a request.

You had raised a brow at him, hesitancy in your gaze. “You want to record me?”

“Just your voice,” Tech clarified, hands twitching. He had taken some thought into how best to approach this without scaring you off, and he did not want to make you uncomfortable.

“My voice,” you repeated. You knew he liked to collect sounds - he had shown you several of his favorites that he had saved over the years - but could not quite process his intent.

“I mean, I don’t really mind,” you shrugged. “But…why?”

Clearing his throat, Tech kept his gaze steady.

“You are leaving on a job,” he stated.

“Yes,” you affirmed, nodding your head.

“And you will be gone for a while,” he continued. You nodded again, confusion still evident on your face.

“And…” Tech paused, brilliant mind racing with how best to explain his thought process. “I…have a thing. For voices.”

Realization blossomed across your features, your eyes widening and your mouth opening into a small ‘o’. You met his gaze, though he could tell you were fighting the urge to duck your face shyly.

“Your voice, in particular,” Tech rambled on. “I was hoping you’d allow me to record the way you sound under…specific circumstances. Influenced by certain variables.”

The idea of Tech using the sound of you to get himself off was not something you had ever thought of prior to this moment, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t intrigued.

In the end, you agreed. You asked if you could record something alone and then send it to him, which Tech had no problem with. In fact, the idea of waiting for such a recording was tantalizing in and of itself.

An audio file was pinged to his data pad late the next day. He mused in appreciation at the level of encryption you had placed upon it and even added a few security measures of his own in the interest of your privacy.

He held off on listening to it for a few days. He had his own duties, jobs to complete. And, though he had not anticipated it, just the knowledge of what was waiting for him was heightening the entire experience.

Now, nearly a week into your absence, the anticipation was nearly too much to bear. The mission always came first, the safety of his squad, but now…now he had time.

Tech made sure the audio was connected to his private channel and not the one shared between his squad mates - that would be embarrassing - and settled back on his cot. Queuing up the file, he relaxed and closed his eyes, allowing the sounds to wash over him.

He could hear the rustle of cloth - you must have been on your bed.

“Hi Tech,” you breathed, and a shiver ran down his spine. He hadn’t been lying when he said he had a thing for voices, and hearing you speak to him, recorded purposefully just for him, just for the purpose of his pleasure was wickedly delicious.

“I’ve never done this before,” you murmured coquettishly, and his lips quirked up into a small smile. “So if it’s not good, maybe next time you can give me a lesson on what exactly you’re looking for?”

His cock twitched at your suggestion. “Vixen,” Tech groaned quietly, hand coming up to palm himself lightly over his blacks. Your shyness was genuine, as was your eagerness - a combination of traits he found particularly enticing about you.

More rustling, and he imagined you settling yourself into a similar position to his own.

A soft sigh, and the sound of skin running over skin. You had told him that you did not have much experience in self-pleasure, but Tech could tell your confidence was growing every time you slept together. You were learning what you liked, and now he was hearing the results of his labor of instruction.

He reaches into his blacks, pulling out his hardening cock, and gives it a slow pump. In his ears is the soft sound of your smooth skin, quiet squeaks and whimpers. When one of your moans is cut off he knows it’s because you’ve bit down on your lip, brow furrowed in concentration.

“When I touch myself,” you whisper, and Tech holds his breath to hear you better - “I think about you.”

He imagines you pinching one of your nipples into a hard peak, the flesh there sensitive. He knows you like it when he pays attention to you there.

“And knowing that you’re listening to me, getting off to the thought of me,” you breathe out with a gasp, and Tech squeezes the leaking head of his cock in response. “It…feels good, Tech.”

He tips his head back, eyes closed tightly. The way you whisper his name, your voice low and husked, sends bolts of arousal straight through him. Stars, this was such a good idea.

The audio file bristles, and he hears you shift your recording device. A brief silence is then cut by a wet sound, and he knows your hand is now between your thighs.

“‘M’already close,” you laugh breathlessly, and Tech thinks ‘good’, because so is he. He pauses his steady strokes, removing his hand from his aching cock to prolong this pleasure as long as he can. It bobs against his abdomen, head dark and insistent, but he resists. He wants to hear you come.

Your leg shifts, and he can hear how your breathing becomes stilted. His cock throbs in response. His balls twitch, heavy and waiting. His eyes are still shut, his breathing quiet and paused as he waits for your cue.

“Gonna come,” you gasp, and Tech’s hand immediately returns to its dutiful ministrations. He pumps himself roughly alongside the sound of you, matching your pace, wishing to finish at the same time you do so he can imagine the way your cunt squeezes and flutters around him -

A quiet wail, muffled by you burying your face in your pillows, signals your orgasm. Tech groans in kind, hips thrusting up to meet his hand once, twice, and then he is coming as well. He throws his head back, tongue coming out to wet his lips as he spills all over his fist and abdomen. His cock is sensitive from the days of anticipatory edging, and he has to let go in the middle of his release. He pulses out more spend as his cock falls heavily against his shuddering stomach.

He hears the sound of your breathing begin to calm, and he uses it to ground himself. “Sorry, it was short.” He can hear the shy smile in your voice. “But I couldn’t hold back.”

Tech sighs out heavily, throwing one arm over his eyes and matching the sound of your smile with a small grin of his own. He wasn’t expecting to feel so exhausted after this experience, his body still tingling from residual bliss.

He’s on the edge of sleep as he hears you signing off.

“We have to stop meeting like this, Captain.”

Rex shot you a crooked smile, hand pressed against his side. The tall clone leaned against the doorway of your tiny clinic, broad form silhouetted against the dim light of your makeshift lamps.

“How else are you going to stay in business if you’re not patchin’ me up?” Rex stepped forward, a wince on his lined features as he collapsed onto your exam table. You shot him a concerned look as you rolled over on your stool towards him. He waved it away, moving his hand to let you take a look at his injury.

“S’not serious,” Rex mumbled. “Reg just grazed me.” You frowned as you pulled up his tattered blacks, sticky from the blood oozing out of the wound.

“Getting slower in your old age?” You teased lightly, wiping around the wound with a topical anesthetic. He was right, it wasn’t a serious wound, but you’d have to seal it up and that in itself wasn’t a pleasant procedure.

Rex huffed above you. “You’re technically older than I am, sweetheart.”

You smiled at the nickname. “Fair enough.”

The two of you settled into an easy silence as you treated his wound. Years of hard war and toil on his body had made Rex used to worse injuries than this, but you were careful to treat his injury gently. He deserved a little gentleness.

“There we go,” you announced as you applied the last bandage and pulled his blacks back down over his toned abdomen. “I’d say good as new, but well-“

“Cheeky,” Rex tapped your hand in thanks and got off the table. You eyed him as you pulled off your soiled gloves and began to put your tools aside to sterilize them.

“You should rest,” you pressed, recognizing the determined look on Rex’s face. “Whatever it is you have to do, it can wait ’til morning.”

Rolling his shoulders, Rex tried to hide the wince from the movement.

“Doctor’s orders,” you added firmly, nodding your head towards the back room. “Go lay down for a while, Captain.”

He arched a brow at your authoritative tone. “Pulling rank on me, doc?”

“If that’s what it takes to get you to take care of yourself,” you challenged, not unkindly, and Rex’s gaze softened.

“You take good care of me,” he said softly, hand reaching out to stroke your chin gently. You smiled at the touch, looking up into his tired eyes.

“Someone has to.”

—

A little while later you turned off the lights and machinery in your exam room and locked up before stepping quietly into your back room. It was a small space, barely enough room for your bed and living necessities, but it was enough - especially for a doctor working under the table like you, treating deserters like Rex.

The ex-captain was laid out on top of your sheets, stripped down to his base layers. His eyes were closed, breaths leaving him softly as he slept.

You undressed and went through your nightly routine, washing the day's events from your tired skin with your limited supplies. Your favorite soap was running low, you noticed. You’d have to find a way to procure more.

Turning your lights down, you padded quietly over to the bed and slipped in next to Rex. With a nudge Rex turned over onto his side, allowing you to press up against him. You nuzzled your face into his firm back, inhaling his scent deeply and allowing yourself to relax into him.

“You remember when we met?” Rex asked, voice husky from sleep. You smiled against him, thinking back to the day you’d been introduced to the blonde clone captain.

“You dragged one of your men into my tent, demanding he be seen immediately,” you murmured quietly. “I remember not being impressed.”

You felt Rex laugh lowly. “As I recall, you chewed me out for barging in while you were elbow-deep in a Balruthian’s chest cavity. My men didn’t let me live that down for months.”

“Served you right,” you grinned sleepily.

“I redeemed myself in the end,” Rex continued, rolling over to face you.

“Jury’s still out on that,” you teased, looking up at him through your lashes. His signature smirk was his response as he drew you closer, arms coming to wrap around your waist.

His arched nose nuzzled against yours, the two of you moving together sleepily. “Well then, I guess I should work harder.”

Your lips met slowly, carefully - both of you tired and aching from the weariness of life under the Empire’s boot. It was a hard existence, full of sorrow and loss, and more bad days than good. It was moments like these, tangled together in the dark, that allowed you two to focus on something sweet - something that made the hard days worth it.

You slipped your hands up Rex’s side, careful to avoid the bandaged wound as your fingers danced over his warm flesh. His hands in turn slipped your thin shorts down, kneading the soft flesh of your backside and hoisting one of your legs up over his hips.

It was a wonder, you thought aimlessly as Rex pushed down his own bottoms and lined himself up with your slick entrance, that the two of you found each other again after the Republic fell. It was a big galaxy, endless, both of you hunted by the Empire, allies few and far between.

The two of you sighed in unison as his cock entered you, hands gripping tighter as you rocked together. Every press of his body against yours felt like the first time - two lonely, lost people seeking comfort in the arms of someone they could trust.

“Rex,” you breathed against his mouth, little pants leaving you with every firm thrust of his hips. He answered you with a low rumble, the hand gripping your thigh hoisting it higher, closer. You knew he liked how you sighed out his name, especially when he was inside you like this. He was a man made for war, designed without regard for softness, sweetness, or pleasure. The first few times the two of you laid together he altered between uncertain hesitancy and unbridled eagerness, inexperience giving way to thoughtless desire. As time went on, the two of you settled into an easy, familiar rhythm - an understanding of each other’s needs in body and mind.

Neither of you were in any great hurry, finding just as much pleasure in the motions of your lovemaking as anything else. Rex, true to his design, ensured you reached your climax before he allowed himself to release into you, shuddering and mouthing your name wordlessly against your arched, bared throat.

When dawn arrived he’d kiss your temple and slip silently out of your bed, disappearing for who knows how long, off doing who knows what. You’d lay there, missing the warmth of him against your chilled flesh, wondering when - or if - you’d see him again.

For now, though, you lay entangled together, bodies trembling in satisfaction until sleep steadied your breathing. Some nights the two of you would talk quietly, thinking about the future, planning for the worst-case scenarios, and dreaming about the best-case ones. Both of you knew you couldn’t count on another day with each other, but thinking about the what-ifs helped fill the loneliness and despair that crept in on those long, solitary nights.

He avoids you for the next few days, uncomfortable with the knowledge of what he did, the knowledge of having heard something so intimate without you being aware.

It lasts only until he hears a crash from his balcony one late evening. He pauses from where he is washing the dishes from dinner, afraid for a brief moment that Grogu managed to unlock the door again. A babble makes him realize that his son was currently spread out on the rug watching something on his tablet, so whatever it was that made the noise was thankfully not from him.

Drying his hands and tossing the hand towel over his shoulder, Din goes to the sliding glass door and peers outside. It’s dark, but he can see movement from the direction of your patio. The sound of a muffled curse draws his interest, and he slides the door open and steps into the cool evening air.

He can see the top of your head over the partition and walks over to look over the concrete to where you are standing with your hands on your hips.

“You ok?” Din ventures, and you jump at the sound of his voice. Turning to face him, there’s a look of embarrassed frustration on your soft features.

“Oh! Yeah,” you breathe. “Sorry, was I being too loud?”

Din shakes his head. “I heard a crash.”

You sigh. “I was trying to get some equipment up onto the roof but it’s higher than I thought.” He notices a jumble of metal at your feet, the source of the crashing noise.

He raises a brow. “Why are you trying to get onto the roof?”

“There’s a meteor shower tonight,” you explain. “I want to watch it through my telescope, and the roof is the best place.”

Din looks up at the edge of the roof above your heads. He had no idea what you had thought would work - he doubted even he could hoist himself up onto the roof from his balcony. Not to mention while holding a telescope - the thing was nearly as big as you were.

“Can’t you see it from your balcony?” He asks, and you shake your head.

“No. The angle’s not right.” He sees a glimmer of disappointment in your eyes as you look up at the sky. “Too bad. I was looking forward to this one.”

Din doesn’t like that look on your face. Residual shame gives way to care, and he has an idea.

“Meet me outside in a couple of minutes,” he tells you, inclining his head towards the front of his apartment. “Bring your stuff.”

He meets you outside his apartment a few moments later, having put on a jacket and bundling Grogu up in a hat and scarf. You eye the two of them curiously, telescope in hand.

“Cute hat,” you muse at the child with a smile, and Grogu pulls on his ear flaps shyly. Din locks his door, and motions for you to follow him down the quiet hallway.

“There’s a maintenance room with roof access,” he explains, watching as Grogu runs ahead. Din had scoped out all parts of the building before deciding to move in, and discovered said door that lead to the roof.

He hears you tsk at yourself. “Wow. That…is a way better idea than trying to climb onto the roof.”

Din kneels in front of the heavy door at the end of the hallway, fishing something out of his coat. You peer over his shoulder, amused interest at what he is doing.

“Lock picking?” You ask as he wiggles the lock, tools pushed into the rusty deadbolt. “Why didn’t you do that to my door when I got locked out?”

“Didn’t want to make you nervous,” Din mumbles, and you laugh.

“Good point.”

Fortunately for you, the building manager hadn’t yet realized how unsecured the door was, and after a few moments it unlocks with a satisfying ‘click’.

“What other skills are you hiding?” Din hears you tease from behind him. He clears his throat, adamantly telling himself that it was an innocent comment and not one laced with innuendo.

He stands with a grunt, opening the door. Bending down, he picks Grogu up and leads you into the dark room and up a short set of stairs. You let out a pleased hum as the three of you step out onto the roof of the complex - the city skyline glimmering in the distance.

“That was much easier,” you smile. “Thanks.”

“It’s a little bright up here,” Din mentions. The complex is on the outskirts of the city center but light pollution still has an impact. “You’ll be able to see the meteor shower still?”

“Yep,” you say cheerily, putting down your telescope. He watches you set up, Grogu squirming in his arms. “I mean, it won’t be as impressive as being outside city limits, but with the telescope it’ll be just fine.” You angle the telescope in the direction you want it, peering into the eyepiece and adjusting various cogs and levers. You’re mumbling to yourself while you do it, interlaced with the hum of a familiar song Din can’t quite place.

He swallows roughly and looks away. Not because he finds your focus attractive, and distracting.

“There we go,” you chirp triumphantly, looking up at the sky. Din follows your gaze, squinting up at the star-speckled darkness.

“I don’t see anything,” he says.

“You will,” you assure him. “Just keep looking.”

It’s several moments before he detects a flash of something. He lets out a small huff of amusement, pointing up at the sky for his son. “Did you see that?” He asks, and Grogu shakes his head.

“Does he want to look through here?” You ask from your bent position, looking up at him and Grogu. “It might be easier for him.”

Din kneels, sitting his son on his bent knee. You lower the telescope so Grogu can peer into the eyepiece, checking it once to make sure it’s still focused where you want it.

“Go ahead,” you encourage him gently. Grogu leans forward to look into the eyepiece, one eye closing into a squint. A moment of silence, and then the smallest gasp of surprise as he sees a magnified version of the meteors flashing above.

“Cool, huh?” You smile, pleased at the child’s reaction. “You know, I was only a little older than you when I got my first telescope. It was barely more than a magnifying glass, but it inspired me so much that I decided I wanted to study the stars when I grew up.”

Din tries to focus on Grogu, and not how you’re bent so close to him that he can smell the perfume you’re wearing. His kid babbles excitedly, eye glued to the telescope, and he can’t help the grin that softens his coarse features.

He hears you clear your throat, and glances at you. You tilt your head at Grogu. “Is he…?”

“He’s non-verbal,” Din explains. “He can’t really speak, but he understands just fine.”

“I see,” you nod. Turning back to Grogu, you move the telescope slightly to point out different astronomical bodies, explaining what he’s seeing in a gentle tone. It makes Din’s heart thrum, watching you interact with his child. He’s very protective of Grogu, and the child in turn does not open up to people easily, but something about you puts both of them at ease.

The sky grows darker, and the air chillier. Grogu presses his tiny body closer to Din’s and lets out a yawn.

“It’s past his bedtime,” Din murmurs, standing with a low grunt. “I should get him tucked in.”

“Ok,” you reply, adjusting your telescope back to your viewing height. “I think I’ll stay here a little while longer. I’ll lock the door behind me, don’t worry.”

With a short nod, Din turns to leave before you call out his name. He turns back to see a starry smile on your face, and he is grateful for the chill air that cools the flush of his body.

“Thank you again,” you say quietly. He clears his throat, nods, and then takes his dozing child back down the stairs to their apartment.

After putting Grogu to bed, he goes to his own bedroom and realizes again with a pang of guilt that his bed is still pushed against the shared wall. He told himself he would move it, but found every excuse not to - it’s more convenient here, it would make him have to rearrange everything else in the room, the outlets on the other wall don’t work as well.

Din thinks back to your jest at his lockpicking, and the smile on your face when you thanked him as he climbs under his covers. He lies there, imagining the star-speckled sky above the ceiling, and only falls asleep once he hears the soft sounds of you returning to your own apartment and sliding into your bed - just a few inches of wall between the two of you.

—

The sun shining through the curtain he forgot to close and the muffled sound of something dripping rouses him from sleep later in the morning than he usually wakes. Groggy, he peers at the clock and curses when he sees the time. He likes to get up early, before Grogu - but based on the sounds outside his shut bedroom door, his child had already risen.

Marching out to the living room, he glances around for his son, concern growing when he doesn’t see him. He looks at the front and balcony doors - both still locked, so Grogu is still here somewhere.

A giggle and a splash make him turn and head toward the bathroom. Opening the door, he gapes at the sight of his child stuffing socks, stuffed frogs, and who knows what else down the toilet, laughing gleefully as he flushes and the water drips up and out all over the place.

“No no no,” Din rushes forward, nearly slipping on the wet floor, and scoops Grogu up and sits him in the bathtub. “We don’t flush toys!” He chides, sticking his arm into the toilet bowl to try to fish what he can out. Grogu peers over the side of the tub, amused at the sight of his father elbow-deep in the plumbing.

After a couple of hours of cleaning up what he could and giving his soaked child a bath, Din sits at the dining room table tiredly and watches as Grogu eats his oatmeal. They’re going to be late to daycare drop-off this morning, but he’s already messaged the teacher to let them know. Din loves his kid, but does look forward to the few hours a day he is in someone else’s hands.

As he returns, he notices a truck belonging to a plumbing company parked outside the complex. He groans, and as he climbs the stairs hopes that they’re not there for what he thinks they’re there for.

He’s not so lucky. He rounds the corner towards his door and sees you outside your own, hands on your hips. You peer inside your open apartment, and as he approaches you turn to greet him.

“Hey…are you having any plumbing issues?” You ask.

Din shakes his head and hopes it’s believable.

“Mm,” you respond. “Lucky you, I guess. Something happened and when I went to get ready this morning there was water pouring out of every drain in my bathroom.”

Din winces, hoping you didn’t see.

“That’s…unfortunate,” he mumbles, and you sigh.

“Yeah.” He watches you bend down to grab your bag. “I was hoping to get some work done today, but with all the work going on in my apartment I don’t think I’ll be able to focus. Guess I’ll head to a cafe or something.”

“Do you want to come inside?” Din asks before he can stop himself, tilting his head towards his apartment. “So-so you don’t have to leave,” he clarifies.

You purse your lips. “You sure?” He nods. It’s the neighborly thing to do, he tells himself.

And technically it’s his fault your apartment is flooding…but you don’t need to know that.

“Ok,” you agree.

—

He tries not to hover, or watch you work, but you’re distracting.

Sat at his dining room table, laptop open, surrounded by papers. There’s a focused look in your eye. You chew on the end of your pen absently.

Din doesn’t let anyone in his apartment, but here you are, sitting cross-legged on his chair, elbow propped up on the table like this is a regular occurrence.

He can hear Fett laughing at him now.

He sits at his kitchen counter, trying to look busy with his own projects. You’re completely absorbed in your work, and he’s completely absorbed in you.

Din hears you sigh, and watches as you lean back and stretch your arms up, cracking your neck with a satisfied groan. His mouth goes dry at the sight of your neck, stretched and bared.

“Sorry,” you mumble. “Bad posture.”

He nods towards his couch. “You could sit there. It’s more comfortable.” You shrug and smile.

“I won’t get anything done if I’m comfortable,” you joke. “But I guess I could use a break.” You get up, stretching your back, and sit softly on the end of the sofa. He watches you look around his apartment curiously.

“So,” you ask. “Is it just you and Grogu?”

Din’s brow raises. “Yes. Who else would there be?”

You shrug again, scratching the side of your nose. “I don’t know,” you say. “Do you have a partner?”

He clears his throat. “No. Not for a long time,” he replies.

“Mmm.” You lean your head back into the couch, closing your eyes. Din wonders what that noise means. He wonders why you’d ask that question.

“Do…you?” He ventures, trying to sound casual. He sees you smile without opening your eyes.

“Nope,” is your simple answer.

Well. Now what?

He stands, going over to the sliding glass door, peering out. The day is halfway over. There’s a while to go before he has to pick up Grogu, before the work in your apartment is done.

You shift on the couch, catching his attention. You’re leaning up against the arm, looking at him with a small smile. He swallows roughly.

Padding over to the couch, he sits a respectable distance from you. Not too close. He wants this to be in your hands.

You scoot a little closer, a mischievous glimmer in your eyes. He doesn’t slide away, even as his heart thrums faster and faster.

As you lean in, he can see the way your eyelashes flutter.

“I’m gonna do something,” you mumble lowly, and Din sees your eyes flicker to his lips. “If you don’t want me to, it’s ok. Just…say so.”

Your lips are soft against his. He doesn’t reciprocate for the first few seconds, but as he feels you pull away he chases your mouth with his, opening his lips to deepen the kiss.

He can feel you smile against him. One of your hands comes up to settle softly on his collarbone. His head is tilted, taller form bent down to meet your probing mouth.

Maker, you’re a good kisser. You’re unhurried, savoring the feeling of his plush lips, the slight scruff of his facial hair. He hopes he’s not disappointing in comparison. It’s been a while.

The hand not on his collarbone goes up to his cheek, and you dart your tongue out to swipe over his bottom lip. Din lets out a groan at that, and he can feel you shiver against him.

Your motions become a little sloppier, with a sense of restrained tension in the little pants you’re giving off. They sound like the ones he heard when you were touching yourself through the wall - and he swallows them like he told himself he would.

A shrill noise startles the two of you apart. It’s his phone, ringing from his pocket. Cursing, he pulls it out and apologizes before answering. You clear your throat and scoot backward away from him.

It’s Grogu’s daycare. They’ve had a staff member call out sick, so they’re closing early and are calling to have the kids picked up early. Din agrees, and hangs up, not looking at you.

“They’re probably nearly done in my apartment,” you say softly. “I’ll…let you go.”

“Yeah,” he mumbles in response. He stays seated as you rise and gather your things. He regains use of his limbs as you walk towards his door and slip your shoes back on. Standing, he watches you from the center of his living room.

“Thanks again,” you maintain, and cast him a shy smile. Din nods and watches as you leave. At the sound of the lock engaging he groans and rubs his hands over his eyes.

You chewed absently on your food, sitting under the canopy of the greasy noodle stand you often frequented. All around you, people wandered through the crowded market, haggling or looking for the place with the cheapest liquor. No one paid any attention to you, or to each other for that matter. It was a perfect place to ignore and be ignored.

It had been a couple of weeks since you had been rescued from the abandoned science facility - weeks since you had been dosed with that weird substance and subsequently slept with Tech. You had brushed off the rest of the crew’s questions once back on the Marauder as you dosed yourself with a bacta concoction, hoping it would purge whatever remained of the drug out of your system. Likewise, Tech kept mum and insisted nothing ‘out of the ordinary’ had happened.

“Man, spending a whole day cooped up with just Tech for company must have been boring,” Wrecker had joked. You had nearly choked at the comment, choosing not to reply, and tried to sleep the rest of the way back to Ord Mantell. After reporting to Cid, you hadn’t seen any of the crew.

“Hey,” a smooth voice brought your focus back to your surroundings. Glancing to your side, you raised a brow at the Devaronian male leaning on the counter. He cast you what you guessed was supposed to be a smoldering look, and you resisted rolling your eyes before returning to your noodles.

“You come here often?” The Devaronian pressed, clearly not getting the hint you weren’t interested in conversing with him. “Name’s Qarl - what do I call you, beautiful?”

“Not interested,” you mumbled through a mouthful of noodles. Qarl smirked, scooting closer and you leaned away in response.

“Playing hard to get? Don’t be like that, baby,” he simpered. “Hey, I’ve got a table in the VIP section of that club over there. How about you join me, we order some drinks, and see where the night goes?”

You knew where this was going. People like this were all over the underbelly of the galaxy, and Ord Mantell was no different. They went around trying to find easy marks and plied them with alcohol, drugs, or the promise of pleasures. The victims would then wake hours later to find all their possessions stolen, or worse.

Finishing up your food, you pushed your bowl towards the droid manning the stall. “No thanks,” you said firmly, getting up to leave the uncomfortable situation. Unfortunately, the Devaronian was not keen to let you leave so easily.

“Come on,” he purred, standing and snaking an arm around your waist. “I’ll show you a good time, promi-hey!”

Just as soon as he had pulled you into his side Qarl was flung away. You froze, watching him stumble to the ground as a taller figure stepped between the two of you.

“I believe she said she was not interested,” Tech stated, staring intently at the grumbling Devaronian brushing dust off his clothes. “You should go.”

“Get out of here, specs,” Qarl spat. “Can’t you see we’re talking?”

You noticed Tech’s hands twitch towards his holster, and without thinking you reached forward and grabbed one of his wrists. He turned his head slightly to view you shaking your head and mouthing ‘no’. Sure, the guy was a jerk, but you didn’t want this to turn into a blast zone.

You felt some of the tension in Tech loosen as he flicked his eyes back to Qarl. “Perhaps your translator is malfunctioning,” Tech challenged. Instead of his gun, he pulled out a spanner and made it spark. You couldn’t help to smile at the way Qarl’s face blanched, backing away with a grimace. “Allow me to repair it for you.”

“Whatever,” Qarl mumbled over his shoulder and disappeared into the crowd. To their credit - and probably because they were used to seeing worse on a daily basis - no one around you seemed to realize or care about what happened.

“Are you all right?” Tech turned to you after making sure the Devaronian had indeed fled. You nodded.

“Yeah,” you replied. “Not the first time scumbags like that have hit me up, and knowing this city it won’t be the last.”

The corner of his lips dipped into a frown, and Tech put away his spanner. “That is…unfortunate.”

Shrugging, you crossed your arms. “It’s life.” There was a beat of silence between the two of you. You had told yourself every day for the past two weeks that you would go back to Cid’s and talk to Tech, go back to normal, but you had yet to motivate yourself to do it. And now, here he was, coming to your aid once again.

“What are you even doing here?” You had never seen any of the Batch more than a few yards from Cid’s parlor. This greasy market was not the kind of place you would have expected seeing any of them, especially Tech.

“Looking for you,” Tech answered. “It has been exactly sixteen days since we returned from the mission and you have not returned to Cid’s once during that time.”

“I’ve been busy,” you deflected. You had been busy…busy avoiding him.

He adjusted his goggles. “You are embarrassed about what transpired at the science facility.”

You frowned, crossing your arms tighter. “No,” you insisted weakly. Leave it to Tech to get straight to the point.

“I suspected you would,” Tech continued, ignoring your lame attempt at a rebuttal. “I did some research on amatory agents, and-“ you cut him off by dragging him down a nearby alley, heart pounding.

“Not so loud!” You hissed and simmered at the confused look Tech tossed you.

“I thought you said you were not embarrassed,” he teased lightly, and you huffed in response.

“I’m not - I just - not in public, ok?” You sputtered. “Come on, follow me.”

—

You had a small apartment on Ord Mantell. Nothing luxurious, mostly just a spot you could get some rest in. It was sparsely decorated, as you didn’t own much outside of the necessities, but it was a more private location than the market street.

You let Tech hover just inside your entryway as you kicked off your shoes and headed further inside. Passing through your small kitchenette you flicked on your kettle to boil water for tea, more of a reflex than out of a desire to actually consume anything.

Tech followed you into the rest of the apartment, and you sat on the edge of your bed. “Don’t have a lot of seating options,” you apologized, motioning to the single chair you had opposite your sleeping space.

“I am familiar with small spaces,” he commented and sat down. “Between the Marauder and barracks, this is actually quite spacious than what I am used to.”

“I see,” you breathed out. Another pause, and you twitched your hands nervously. Tech’s eyes roamed around your apartment, and you wondered what he thought about it - and why you were so nervous having him here.

“So…,” you ventured, after waiting another moment. “What did you want to talk about?”

Clearing his throat, Tech re-focused back on you and raised his finger in a familiar lecturing gesture. “Right. As I was saying, I did some research on amatory agents. Specifically on the psychological after-effects on those impacted.”

Leaning back, you crossed your arms. “Why?”

“I knew you would not want to say anything about it in front of the rest of the crew. When you did not show up to Cid’s in the days after, however, I began to wonder if you were experiencing latent side effects from the drug, or avoiding an uncomfortable confrontation with me.” He tapped his thigh absently. “Have you?”

You shrugged half-heartedly. “No, I don’t think I’ve had any side effects. But…yeah, I guess I was avoiding you a little bit. I’m sorry.” You hadn’t realized he would have even noticed and felt a twinge of guilt at the thought of him worrying.

He put a hand up. “No need for apologies. Much of the literature I looked at talked about feelings of regret, loss of agency and control, and other unpleasant psychological impacts. Additionally, I thought about how that incident coincided with your first sexual experience - an event that can also have elements of regret or unease, especially for women.”

“Putting those together, I surmised that despite the emotions of the moment, you could be experiencing significant distress post-incident, as a result of having your first experience with sexual intercourse under such circumstances.”

As Tech spoke, you wondered again if he was lying about not being a mind reader. Though you had barely begun to admit it to yourself, he was right. You had been struggling with coming to terms with what had happened back in that storeroom. You didn’t regret it, not in the exact way that he was alluding to, but it was still complicated.

“Am I correct?” Tech questioned, pulling you back to the present.

“Yeah,” you replied shortly, and he hummed.

“I rarely am not.” That got a snort out of you, and Tech smiled softly at your humored outburst.

“I’m fine, though,” you added. “I appreciate you coming by, but this…I think it’s something I need to work through myself.”

Tech raised a brow and stood. “I…understand,” he said, and you wondered if you had really detected a tone of disappointment in his voice.

You walked him to your door where both of you hesitated, waiting for the other to say something. Clearing your throat, you wished him goodnight but as you went to close the door he stuck out a hand to stop it from shutting all the way.

You eyed him hesitantly. Stars, he was tall. You sometimes forgot about it.

“Respectfully, I did not mean to imply that something was wrong with you,” Tech said lowly, leaning in so that he would not be overheard. “But in a way, I do feel somewhat responsible for what occurred - “

“Tech,” you protested, but he continued on.

“-And in the interest of your comfort, I was curious if you would like to revisit the experience,” he offered. “Without the effects of the drug in your system.”

You stared at him, blood rushing to roar in your ears. Was he saying what you thought he was saying?

“I believe it would help in creating positive associations around sexuality,” Tech added, fingers tapping against your doorframe when you did not answer.

You had convinced yourself that Tech had done what he did out of a sense of duty, and concern for your health, and that there were no lingering thoughts of affection or desire in him. He had said he was not opposed to sleeping with you again, but as you replayed the conversation in your head over and over you told yourself he had done it in order to ease some of the tension and awkwardness of the moment.

“I-“ you stammered, unsure of what to say or what you wanted.

“You don’t have to answer just now,” Tech said softly. “Or at all. It…will not change anything. But if you are interested in the experience of having an…instructor, I would like to offer my services.”

With that, he dropped his hand and wished you goodnight, disappearing into the back alleyways of your neighborhood. You retreated back into your apartment and turned off your lights before laying on your bed. Your stomach and mind both twisted with what had just happened.

To say you hadn’t been thinking about your time with Tech would be a bold-faced lie. Every night since you had returned you had fallen asleep with the memory of him over your body, the warmth of his mouth on you. The soreness you had experienced from the size of him had faded into an ache of emptiness, an echo of the desire you felt in that intense moment weeks ago.

Maybe you had been drugged by that Devaronian, and this was the vision your mind played for you as you lay under a dirty club table while some scumbag stole your things.

Closing your eyes, you brought yourself back to Tech’s gaze. Usually so sure, but there was a hint of some vulnerability in their yellow-tinged depths.

He has nice eyes, you thought absently, sighing into your pillow. You hadn’t had a chance to notice the last time.

—

Two days later, you paced nervously around your apartment, waiting for Tech to arrive. You had sent him a message asking him to stop by, finally having built enough courage to press ‘send’ after debating with yourself.

A soft knock at the door made you jump slightly. Patting down your clothes, you let out a breath and invited him in.

He was dressed down - as much as a former clone trooper could be. Still the same goggles, you noticed. You wondered if he had an indent where they met his skin.

“You’re here,” you greeted, immediately wincing at how stupid that sounded.

“I am,” Tech agreed. “Did you doubt I would come?”

“I - I don’t know,” you confessed, rubbing your arm where you had been injected with the drug absently. It was a habit you had taken to recently, and you did not miss the way Tech’s eyes narrowed at the movement.

“You said you wanted to talk,” Tech leaned against the archway that lead from your kitchen to your living/sleeping space. “Am I correct in assuming it’s regarding my proposition from a few days ago?”

Nodding, you let out a breath. “Yes. I’ve been thinking about it, and…” you trailed off, chewing over your words. You had gone over what you had been wanting to say for the past two days, but it was still getting caught on the tip of your tongue.

“I will not be offended if you decline,” Tech reassured. “If that is what you are nervous about.”

“No, it’s just-“ You crossed your arms again and sighed, stepping closer to him.

“What do you get out of this?” you interrogated. “I’m thankful you helped me, Tech, but you don’t have any obligation to continue to…assist me. I like you, and I don’t want to be some kind of…research project for you, or a way for you to alleviate some kind of misplaced guilt."

You chewed your lip, flustered at your own candor. Tech tilted his head, eyes darting to the side before they landed back on you.

“Back in the storeroom,” he said slowly. “You said something that I have been thinking about. At the moment I attributed it with your enhanced state of mind, and deflected in order to focus on bringing you relief.”

‘Teach me how to touch you’. “I…remember,” you affirmed quietly.

Tech cleared his throat again. “Yes. And…despite the circumstances that led to us having sex being from an artificial hormonal source, I must admit…I have been thinking about it quite often.” He reached out a hand, hesitant, and softly stroked the side of your jaw as you stared up at him.

“I want to assure you that I find you…incredibly enticing,” he breathed. “And what I have proposed, I do both in the interest of your comfort and - selfishly - for my own desires.”

Closing your eyes, you leaned into his cupped hand.

“I-,” you whispered softly, “Truthfully, the more I’ve thought about it, the more I’ve realized that I did enjoy sleeping with you. I think it’s because even considering the circumstances, I trusted you. And even if I had been given the option, I would have wanted it to be you that I experienced it with.”

“I - that is a privilege,” Tech enthused quietly. He stepped closer to you with a curious, intense look. You reached your hands towards him, and as you pressed together he leaned down so that your noses bumped.

“Tech,” you breathed. “Show me what to do.”

He pressed his mouth against yours, swallowing your surprised gasp. You relaxed into his firm hold, the two of you stumbling back so that you hit the edge of your bed. You laid back as Tech leaned over you, climbing up over your form.

“My clothing” he directed, pulling away from your mouth. You shifted, hands going to the top of his trousers, and you tried to hide the nervous tremble as you unbuckled them. You drew them down his thin hips, revealing a sliver of golden skin and his dark base under layers.

You paused, unsure of where to go next. Peering down at you, Tech raised a brow and shifted so that he was laying just to the side of you, your legs entangled.

“You can touch me,” he said gently. Your eyes darted from his back down to where the black underlay protruded slightly. You brushed your palm over him curiously, surprised at how his cock twitched in response. You rubbed him more firmly through the fabric, emboldened by the sharp inhale from the man before you. He dipped his head down again, pressing another open-mouthed kiss against you.

Biting your lip, you reached down the top of his blacks and danced your fingers around his length. Dark hair, kept neat, scratched at your skin. Tech let out a sigh as you grasped him, and you echoed it in kind. It was such an odd feeling, you decided, as you touched his cock. How could something be so soft and pliable while also being so kriffing hard?

You pulled his blacks down further so that his whole length was freed. You briefly wondered what it felt like to have a cock - Tech’s was long and heavy enough that it bowed under its own weight, growing in your hand.

“What does it feel like?” You questioned, and Tech hummed against you.

“What does what feel like?” He queried. You blinked up at him through your lashes.

“What does having your cock stroked feel like?”

That got a choke out of him, which turned into him clearing his throat. “Well it’s…not something easily described,” he began. Clear liquid was beginning to leak from the swollen head, and you used your palm to spread it along the rest of his cock. It made a slick noise as you stroked him up and down.

His eyes fluttered briefly, and you watched as he chewed over his response. If there was one thing Tech couldn’t resist it was a chance to explain something, but even he was not immune to a drop in concentration under the circumstances.

“It’s…satisfying," he decided after a moment. “When I am aroused, there is a kind of…ache for sensation. It’s almost like a pulse - persistent, insistent on being stimulated.”

“Mmm,” you acknowledged, still steadily handling him. "Does it make a difference if it’s you touching yourself versus someone else touching you?”

“Yes,” Tech answered. You could feel his abdomen flex under your arm. “When you know your own body, you know how to bring yourself to completion most efficiently. I know how I like to be touched. Though of course -“ he let out a rasped groan as you increased the pressure you were holding him with - “there is something unique about having someone else do it to you.”

“I think I understand,” you mused. His arms tightened around you as you twisted your wrist, enjoying the way his cock twitched in your grasp.

“Take me into your mouth,” he instructed. “Try-try your tongue first.”

You spared him a glance before you slid down to sit between his thighs. Gripping the base of him, you darted your tongue out to lick hesitantly over his swollen cockhead. That got another rasped groan from him.

“I- very good,” he stammered.

You licked over his head again, finding that the taste of him was not unpleasant. In fact, the feeling of how his pre-spend pooled out of him and onto your tongue made you feel pleasantly flushed. You were discovering that there was satisfaction in being the cause of someone else’s pleasure.

Emboldened again, you took him deeper into your mouth. He was far too large for you to fit the entirety of him, but you swirled your tongue around what you could and sucked gently.

One of Tech’s hands came up to push your hair out of your face, holding it out of the way for you. “You’re doing well,” he enthused, and you shivered a little at the praise. He noticed immediately and huffed out in slight amusement.

“I confess - your enthusiasm is incredibly arousing,” he remarked. “You are a quick learner, aren’t you?”

You moaned at his words, your own arousal increasing exponentially. Tech’s hands stroked your cheek as his cock pressed against the spongey roof of your mouth. With a groan, he eased your mouth off of him gently.

You leaned back, wiping spit from your lips with the back of your hand, panting a little to catch your breath. “What’s wrong?” You questioned, thinking had you done something he didn’t like.

“Nothing,” Tech assured, leaning forward to cup your face in his hands. “I just do not want to finish too quickly - I have much more to show you.” You flushed again, thighs squirming as your core pulsed.

“Take off your clothes,” he instructed. You pulled your leggings down, kicking them off with your underwear. You lifted your top off and threw it to the side, kneeling bare in front of a still mostly clothed Tech. He leaned against the headboard and motioned for you to come closer, grabbing your hands to pull you up into his lap.

“I want you to sit on my face,” he directed lowly, noticing your wide-eyed confusion, and you squeaked in surprise. Grasping your hips, he led you up his chest until your core was over his eager mouth.

“I-I’ll smother you,” you protested, tensing as he tried to pull you down. His brow furrowed in chastisement, and you felt his fingers tighten over your skin.

“That’s the goal,” he drawled and pulled you down so that he could lathe his tongue through your dripping folds. You gasped, one hand reaching out to grab the headboard and the other coming down to clutch his soft hair.

This angle wasn’t what you were expecting, and the way his tongue flicked over your sensitive clit made your legs shake. Your thighs ached from trying to avoid sitting too far down on his face, a task made impossible by how he wrapped an arm around your waist to seat you more firmly over his clever mouth. He ate you like someone licking a plate to get every last bit of their last meal, and you could feel an orgasm approaching rapidly.

You grasped his hair and curled into yourself as you came, thighs shaking as you finally failed to keep them tensed. Tech did not stop and suckled your clit until you were writhing in almost-painful pleasure. He finally released you after what seemed like an eternity of coming, sliding you down to sit on his abdomen.

“I thought you were teaching me how to make you feel good,” you panted, and Tech smirked. He pressed a wet kiss to your mouth, arms coming around your waist to press your body closer to his.

“I am,” he rasped against you. “Part of sexual satisfaction is pleasing your partner. Their reactions, the sounds they make, the way they taste-“ he shuddered slightly against your mouth. “And you, my dear, taste delectable.”

Trailing his mouth down your chest, he nipped at your breasts. You gasped and arched into it, letting him take more of your sensitive flesh between his teeth. Tugging at his top, you helped him pull it off over his head, immediately running your hands down his chest. While not as built as Wrecker or Hunter, he was still deliciously toned and firm.

Groaning against your skin, Tech laid back and let you drag your hands down his body. Glancing up, you smiled at the glazed look in his eyes, his ruffled hair, and his lopsided goggles.

“A scar,” you noted, pressing a finger against the mark just above his hip. His body jerked at the motion, and his hands went to adjust his goggles as he watched you explore him.

“Y-yes,” he muttered. “A piece of shrapnel clipped through my armor.” Shifting his hips, he let out a strained noise as you scratched it lightly with a fingernail. “That, ah - I am sensitive there,” he confessed.

“Did I hurt you?” You asked, lifting your hands. He shook his head almost a little too fast.

“Keep going,” he replied, pulling his goggles off and letting his head fall back on your pillows.

Settling between his thighs once more, you placed the pads of your fingers just above his navel. You stroked down Tech’s body, applying different levels of pressure as you grazed his inner thighs. He was making some delightful noises, you mused to yourself. You wanted to hear more.

His cock was still leaking pre-spend, a clear strand connecting from the head to where he bobbed against his abdomen. Leaning forward, you continued your soft tracing of his skin, the lines of his muscles, the patterns his soft body hair made, and took the head of his cock into your mouth.

A muffled curse from above, and you felt Tech’s body twitch again. “You clever girl,” he ground out, clearly impressed with your interpretation of his pleasure. His praise continued to ignite your own need, and you slipped a hand from his body to slide through your slick folds.

Opening one eye, Tech watched you teasing yourself. “I can hear how wet you are,” he breathed, and you moaned, too aroused to be embarrassed at his candor. “Another, ah - benefit of being genetically engineered…”

With more of that belied strength Tech grasped your forearms and pulled you back up his body.  He licked into your open mouth, and you whimpered at the sensation. You were on the edge of something, tensed like a prey animal. He had a way of pushing you from one extreme to another, from control to submission. He played with your body like he had been memorizing it for years - a nod to his experience, his intellect, both?

He shifted under you, and you felt his cock press against your inner thigh. Grasping himself in hand, Tech broke away from your mouth to watch your reaction as he guided himself to your entrance, eyes locked on to the way your own fluttered shut and your mouth opened into a small gasp.

You were still tight - not from lack of arousal, but from the mere size difference between your bodies. Tech grasped your hips, easing you down his length, paying close attention to every minute change on your face.

The stretch was delicious, right on the precipice of being too much. The further he pushed in, the more full you felt, and you swore that you could feel him all the way up into your throat.

“Magnificent,” Tech praised lowly, solid inside of you. “Look-“ he grabbed your hand, pressing it to where he entered you. You glanced down and swore that he twitched purposefully so that you’d feel it.

“That’s me inside of you,” he intoned.

“Tech,” you whimpered. Your hands came down to his abdomen, trying to find leverage. Even with his entire length filling you it felt like he just kept going, the head of him bumping almost painfully against the seal of your womb.

“Move, darling,” he crooned, rolling his hips to urge you on. “It will help.”

With a deep inhale, you shifted and met the roll of his hips tentatively. The stretch and slide of him up and then down, and then up and then down - the smug know-it-all was right, it did help.

“Good girl,” Tech breathed again. “Keep going.”

You rocked against him. Your brow, once furrowed in concentration, relaxed as you found a rhythm. Shifting, Tech moved his hands from your waist to knead at the plush flesh of your ass, adding to the pace of your movement. Your chests met again as you leaned toward him, and closed your eyes as his nose nuzzled against your cheek.

“How does it feel?” Tech husked, moving your hips to slide up and down his length.

“Good,” you breathed, and let out a hiss as Tech snaked a hand down to tweak at your swollen clit.

“Good,” Tech repeated with a hum. “My dear, you can do better than that.” You felt his abdomen clench as he propped up his legs and met your rocking with a firm thrust up into you.

“Again,” he instructed, leaning his head back to look at you expectantly.

You clawed at his shoulders, mouth opening with a choke. How could he expect you to form coherent sentences with the way his cock was ramming up into you? Every thrust drew you further from focus - and based on the gleam in his eyes that was precisely the point.

“Your cock,” you choked. “It…it’s so big, Tech. I like how you’re filling me up. The way you s-stretch me feels so good…”

Pleased with your candidness, Tech’s lips lifted into a short smile. “You’re drenched. Your little cunt is taking my cock beautifully.” You burned at the way he voiced his approval, your pussy fluttering around him.

“Do you want to hear a confession?” Tech groaned as he pulled you closer, and you nodded feverishly.

“I like that I’m the first man to fuck you,” he rasped. “I like knowing that my cock was the first one to split your tight little cunt. That it’s my seed that you took -“ He panted, pace increasing, and you felt the beginning of your own finish.

“Do you want it again?” Tech pressed, and you rambled ‘yes yes yesyes-‘

“Good girl, come on,” he urged, hand returning to press on your clit, drawing you over the edge. You cried out his name as your orgasm washed over you, pussy fluttering around as he continued to piston up into you. Grasping your ass in his hands once again, Tech pushed himself into you as far as he could go, eyes roaming your face as he relished the feeling of your cunt pulsing around him. He held you there, breath held until his own climax hit.

If you felt full before, it was nothing to how you felt as Tech throbbed inside of you, cum painting your insides. You shivered as he pulled you tightly against his chest, your name escaping from between his gritted teeth.

Your heart pounded from exertion as you lay there together. You felt Tech’s hand coming up to stroke your shoulder softly, and you lifted your head from where you had pressed it against the side of his neck to blink at the surprisingly tender look in his eyes.

“Apologies,” he murmured. “But I am going to adjust slightly -“ You winced as he shifted so that the two of you were laying side by side again, and as your thighs rubbed together you felt where his spend leaked out of you. You weren’t sure if you liked the feeling, but in a way it was satisfying.

You felt Tech sit up, looking for his goggles. “Are you all right?” He asked, pushing his goggles up his nose.

“Yes,” you said, pressing your face into your pillow. “I think so?”

Instead of getting up and leaving, Tech settled back down on your bed. You tilted your head up to eye him curiously.

“Are you?” You inquired, and saw him glance down at you.

“Yes.” Tech cleared his throat, and you raised a brow. Was he blushing?

“So Tech,” you lifted your head, propping an arm so you could rest your chin on your elbow. “How did I do?”

“P-pardon?” Tech sputtered, and you sent him a lazy grin.

“Did I…meet your standards?” You teased.

“That was not the purpose of this…entanglement,” Tech chided, flustered. Adjusting his goggles, he shot you a stern look. “In fact, ranking my sexual encounters would be counterintuitive to your well-being.”

You frowned, a small pout gracing your lips. “Not getting a good grade, then, am I?”

You had yet to have a mission with (the former) Clone Force 99 that didn’t end up going sideways, and it was getting to the point you wondered if the galaxy had something out for you.

When you were first introduced to the team of ex-troopers on Ord Mantell you didn’t expect you’d be seeing much of them after that. You did the odd job for Cid now and again - being a war refugee wasn’t the most stable of lifestyles - and every time you showed up at least one of them was parked in the parlor. After a while, you had begun to join them on select jobs and had gotten to know them fairly well - especially since every one of the missions ended up with someone hurt, kidnapped, or, as in this case, dosed with an experimental drug.

“All clear,” a modulated voice confirmed from ahead of you. Rubbing your arm where the crazy scientist had managed to jab you, you joined Tech in the doorway of an empty storeroom. You and he had been separated from the rest of the crew and were currently wandering around the lower levels of the science facility you had been sent to salvage. The power was out from a large overload, trapping you in the dark labyrinth for the time being.

“Let’s rest here,” Tech decided, pulling off his helmet and setting it on a crate. “I’ll try to make contact with the Marauder.”

“All right.” You walked over to a crate opposite the one he was leaning against, hopping up on it with a grunt. Pulling down your sleeve, you tried to get a good look at where you had been jabbed with the syringe.

Cid had promised that the place was abandoned, which turned out to be extremely untrue. Some unhinged scientists had stuck around, and when you had stumbled on one in what was supposed to be an empty laboratory you had ended up in a scuffle. Thankfully Tech was right behind you and quickly neutralized your assailant, but not before a needle was slammed into the flesh of your upper arm.

It seemed to be ok, you decided. You’d probably end up with a bruise, but other than a dull throb there didn’t seem to be much damage.

“How is it?” Tech questioned, not looking up from his datapad. At first, you had freaked out, thinking you had been poisoned, but a calm analysis by your quick-witted companion had been able to confirm that whatever it was in the syringe wasn’t going to kill you. It was still unclear what exactly it was, but you had relaxed a bit knowing that you weren’t going to keel over, foaming at the mouth.

“It’s fine, I think,” you answered. “A little sore.”

“Mmm,” was his simple response. You didn’t mind - in fact, you had become quite fond of Tech’s particularly blunt way of addressing things. He didn’t mince words and got straight to the point, something you appreciated after years of dealing with pirates and scavengers and countless others who survived by deceiving others. It was a refreshing change of pace, working with someone whom you could trust.

“Any luck?” You inquired, tilting your head at the device in Tech’s hands. He sighed and set it off to the side.

“Unfortunately not,” he said. “Whatever EMP pulse it was that shook this place and got us separated from the others also fried my datapad, and I don’t have the necessary tools to repair it.”

You raised a brow. “Really? Nothing in all those pockets of yours?”

“No,” Tech pinched the bridge of his nose. “Not this time. An oversight on my end.”

Looking around, you rummaged through some of the crates and discovered a store of medical linens. Divvying them up, you settled against the crate with an exhausted sigh.

“Might as well bunker down then,” you said. “It’s been a long day.”

“Indeed,” Tech concurred.

—

Several boring hours later, the two of you sat side by side against a crate, finishing off some rations.

“So what do you think these guys were doing here?” You queried, wiping crumbs off your hands.

Tech cleared his throat, launching into a hypothesis. “From what info I was able to collect, it seemed they were working on biological warfare agents. Enhancing illicit substances, things like that. A lucrative business.”

You frowned. “I’m not going to get the plague, am I?”

“No, I don’t believe so,” Tech affirmed. “The work being done here seemed to be more on the subtle side. Designed to impact smaller targets in specific ways.”

“Like what?” You were curious, and thankfully Tech liked to explain things as he expanded on his guesses.

“Mind-altering drugs that impair judgment, or create paranoia,” he listed. “Substances intended to embarrass or cause people to debase and humiliate themselves.”

“Sounds like you have firsthand experience.”

He glanced at you. “There was an interesting situation where were evacuating a senator from a separatist prison. She had been injected with a drug that caused her to exhibit fewer inhibitions when it came to soliciting others. It was quite the struggle to let her down, due to her impaired state of mind.”

“She propositioned you?” You asked incredulously.

“Yes. Rather forcefully,” Tech mused. “I had to restrain her, in the end.” He let out of huff of amusement at the memory. “I have never preferred my sexual partners to be those in positions of power, much to her disappointment. It creates an inherent power imbalance that I am not particularly interested in.”

You gaped, mouth open lamely. That was not the way you had expected that story to end. Tech had always come off as someone who would be uninterested in such frank expectations around sex.

“You look surprised,” Tech observed, and you sputtered.

“No, it’s just - I just thought that-“ you trailed off, realizing you were only digging yourself deeper into a hole of embarrassment.

“You thought that out of my brothers, I was the least likely to have experience with sexual intercourse,” Tech stated matter-of-factly. He had a way of saying things so casually in situations others would be uncomfortable in, and this seemed to be another one of those.

“I - yeah,” you admitted. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed something like that. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Shrugging, Tech looked back down at his dead datapad, fiddling with some wires.

“It is a logical conclusion,” he remarked. “I am aware that my attributes do not lead one to associate me with sexual situations.”

You frowned. Was he calling himself unattractive?

“Well, I wouldn’t say that,” you countered. “I- you’re very handsome, Tech.” You flushed at your admission, wondering if you were overstepping.

He tilted his head towards you again, one brow raising in question. “I am a clone. We vary little in our appearances.”

“I’m serious,” you huffed, punching him lightly on the shoulder. “Sure, clones are clones, but you and your brothers look quite a bit different from your average trooper. And not in a bad way.”

He held your gaze for a breath longer than necessary before returning it to the device in his lap. “Thank you,” he acknowledged, after a brief silence.

Thankful that your conversation had relaxed, you leaned against the crate and stared up at the ceiling, lit dimly by a flickering inset light.

A dull throb of discomfort made you wince. Pressure was starting to build behind your eyes, like a headache. “I think I’m going to try to sleep,” you decided, and went to the corner where you had set up a makeshift bed.

Tech just nodded and re-focused back on the datapad. Rolling onto your side, you closed your eyes and tried to will yourself asleep.

You woke a while later, what little sleep you had experienced restless and uncomfortable. Sweat made your thin shirt cling to your shoulders and chest, and your mouth was drier than Tatooine.

Looking around for your canteen, you hastily downed what water was left in it. It wasn’t enough, but it helped a bit. Your head hurt, your blood felt like it was on fire, and there was an ache between your legs that hadn’t been there a few hours ago.

“Ah. You’re awake,” Tech’s voice chirped from the doorway. He stepped inside and stood with his hands clasped behind his back. “I was expecting you to still be out.”

“Can’t sleep,” you rasped. “I think whatever that scientist injected is starting to kick in.” You rubbed your eyes and glanced up at your companion.

“Hmm.” Stepping forward, Tech took your chin in hand and tilted your head to the side. “What kinds of symptoms are you experiencing?”

“I’m burning up,” you mumbled miserably. “My head hurts, and -“ you trailed off, feeling shy once again. You were not about to admit to Tech that you were starting to feel incredibly aroused.

“And?” Tech prodded.

“Nothing,” you deflected. “That’s all.”

Another brow raise, and you suspected he could tell you were not being honest. Thankfully, he didn’t push the subject, and let go of your chin before wandering back over to his own bedroll.

“I was able to make contact with the others. They had to flee, but will be back here in a few hours,” he said, sitting against the wall. “We can get you medical assistance and investigate the purpose of the drug once it does.”

You nodded, throat too dry to respond. Noticing you shaking your now empty canteen, Tech tossed you his. You downed it in one go, mumbling thanks.

“I’m gonna…try to get some more sleep,” you rasped. Though you doubted it would work, you figured trying to sleep until the rest of the crew arrived might alleviate some of the discomfort coursing through your body.

“Do not hesitate to tell me if your symptoms worsen,” Tech directed, and you sighed and laid back down.

The fire burning under your skin only increased as time went on. You curled up on your side, trying not to whimper or give in to the urge to stick your hands down your pants. Tech wandered in and out of the room, no doubt looking for something to keep his busy mind occupied. Part of you longed to call out to him, beg him to help you alleviate the ache of emptiness in your cunt, but you stilled your tongue and tried to tough it out.

Finally, after a particularly harsh pulse of need, you sat up and leaned against the crate. You pulled up the back of your shirt, pressing it against the cool metal in an attempt to find some comfort from your burning flesh, but it did little to help.

“You have gotten worse,” Tech chimed from across from you. He peered at you intensely, and you wondered how long he had been watching you. You noticed he had stripped out of his armor and was just in his underlayers. “I suspect you are in significant discomfort.”

“Yeah,” you conceded. “It’s making me feel-“ you trailed off, wondering how to explain it to him.

“Your body has increased in temperature and levels of sexual hormones,” Tech stated bluntly. You gaped at him, surprised he had figured it out. Had you been that obvious?

“How did you know?” You asked.

“When I ran a diagnostic when you were injected I got several hits related to amatory agents. It did not seem pertinent to mention at the time,” he explained. “I did not want to make you uncomfortable. Topics of a sexual nature are usually quite private for most.” “I think we’re past that,” you croaked.

“Agreed.” With a low grunt, he hopped off the crate he was sitting on.

“Perhaps I may assist,” Tech offered. He stood straighter, hands once again clasped behind his back.

You choked out a laugh. “What, put me out of my misery?”

You caught a glimpse of the faintest movement of his lips into a smirk at your jest before it disappeared. “In a way,” he mused.

“I do have limited knowledge of aphrodisiac and libido-enhancing stimulants. I suspect that is what you were injected with, based on your symptoms.” He pushed up his goggles, listing them off. “Increased rate of respiration, dilated pupils, sensitivity in erogenous zones-“

“Ok,” you cut him off, feeling even more flushed at his frank descriptions of your current predicament. “Aphrodisiac, I got it. How are you going to help?”

“I could stimulate you in an attempt to relieve the symptoms,” he continued. “In many cases, these kinds of toxins can be flushed out of the system more rapidly by engaging in amatory expression.”

You blinked up at him - on a good day Tech’s scholarly explanations sometimes flew over your head, but this was a whole new kind of confusion.

“I must be losing my mind,” you rambled. “Because it sounds like you’re offering to fuck this out of my system.“

“That is precisely what I am offering,” Tech confirmed. “In less technical phrasing.”

You chewed over your options. None of them were particularly favorable. You could either lay there in continued misery until the rest of the crew arrived, or sleep with Tech.

In a normal situation, the second option wouldn’t seem so daunting, but you had never slept with anyone before. You had fled your planet at a young age and since then had never been in a place where that kind of experience was feasible. Did you really want this to be your first time - in a dusty storeroom, with someone who was only doing it out of medical need?

A particularly painful pulse to your groin answered for you. Standing with a groan, you looked up at Tech who was patiently waiting for your answer. “I-we can try,” you decided.

Nodding, Tech stepped towards you. Your heart, already thrumming, increased in its tempo as his much taller form closed in. Your breath came out in rapid pulses as he leaned his head down towards yours, his eyes focused intently on your face.

You started to feel overwhelmed. “W-wait,” you pushed on his shoulders, stepping backward away from him. “Hold on, I-“ You wrapped your arms around your chest, creating a barrier.

Tech immediately drew away, tilting his head. “You are nervous,” he observed “Understandable. I will leave if you have changed your mind-“

“No,” you shook your head. “No, I’ve just…I’ve never done anything like this before,” you confessed, staring intently at the ground.

A beat of silence. “Ah. You are a virgin,” Tech replied simply. “Surprising.”

You frowned, looking back up at him. “What?”

“You are a young woman with features many people consider attractive,” he elaborated. “It stands to reason that you would have had those who would have desired you sexually.”

Mind racing - did he just call you attractive? - you shook your head. “No. It just…never felt right. Comfortable,” you faltered.

Tech nodded, rubbing his chin in thought. “That is not unusual,” he affirmed. "Or unwise. Many people experience dissatisfaction stemming from unsuitable sexual partners.”

“I’m a little out of my element,” you muttered. “I don’t know what to do.”

There was a gleam of something unreadable in Tech’s gaze, and he leaned forward. You breathed out, eyes wide and body frozen. He hovered over you again, your back pressed up against the crate and neck craning to look up at him.

“That is quite all right,” he assured, taking your chin in his hand again. “I do.”

With that, he pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was soft, and exploratory, sending shivers up your spine. You shuddered against him, and he took that as an affirmation to press against you more firmly.

Relaxing your body, you allowed Tech to move closer, legs spreading to allow him to slot himself against your trembling form. Your hands came up to grasp at his firm biceps as he pulled away from your mouth. You panted, eyes fixed on his slightly swollen lips.

“I want you to tell me if you are uncomfortable at any point,” he instructed lowly. “Due to your enhanced state you may not feel the usual discomfort, but seeing as you have never done this before, there is still the chance you may-“

“Tech,” you pleaded, interrupting him. His touch had ignited something inside of you, and you pressed up against him. You knew that when this was over you would be grateful for his concern, but right now you just wanted him to kiss you again.

“Please,” you whispered, and you saw his throat bob as he swallowed roughly. You wondered how you looked in his eyes - flushed, aroused, body fervently pleading for his. Did he like it? Or was this just clinical for him? Your lust-addled mind wanted him to like it. You wanted him to like you.

Clearing his throat, Tech leaned back down. This time you met his mouth with your own, sighing at the way he licked your lips before his tongue slid over yours. He pulled back, and your whine at the loss turned into another sigh as he kissed from your jaw, down your arched neck to your collarbone. Grasping the hem of your shirt, he pulled it off your damp skin and let out the smallest of exhales at the sight of your bare chest.

“Brilliant,” he mumbled. With impressive strength, he grasped your hips and sat you up on the crate so that your chest was level with his head. Dipping his head down again, he placed more soft, open kisses on your skin. One of your hands went from his arm to his head as his clever tongue lathed over the peak of one breast - the sensation made you gasp, shocks of pleasure cascading down to your slick cunt.

“Sensitive,” Tech noted, voice husked as he moved from one peaked nipple to the other. “A result of the drug, perhaps?” His teeth pulled on your nipple, gentle yet firm, and you arched into it. “Or maybe you’re always like this.”

“D-don’t know,” you stuttered. “You’re the first one to d-do this…”

A pleased hum, and Tech looks up at you. “Fascinating,” he husked. You wondered if he liked that - being the first man to touch you, kiss you, see you bare in this way. It would certainly fit with his curious nature.

He trails his mouth down your body, lips ghosting over your soft flesh. He comes to the top of your leggings and leans back. Taking them in his hands, he begins to pull them down your thighs, your hips lifting to assist.

“Have you never experienced any kind of sexual contact, or just not penetrative sex?” He inquired, slipping your drenched panties down your legs as well.

“Nothing,” you mumbled. “Just…just myself.” You had explored your own body a few times, but a lack of experience and motivation had never brought you any kind of significant relief.

“Nothing,” he repeats, and pushes your shoulders gently so that you are laying back on top of the crate, your hips pulled to the edge. Tech kneels, and you prop yourself up nervously, realizing what he was intending to do.

“I- I think I’m pretty ready,” you squeak. “You don’t have to do that-“ You trail off as he flicks his eyes from the apex of your thighs to your face. He lifts his goggles off, placing them down neatly at your side.

“This is your first time,” Tech’s gaze is firm, determined. “I would be remiss if I did not give you the experience you deserve.” His hands come to spread your thighs, and even through the fog of your lust, you burn at the thought of him staring at your glistening folds. One of his hands moves from your thigh, and he runs two fingers over your cunt, pressing at the swollen, sensitive flesh. You let out a moan as he repeats the motion, applying pressure on your clit with his knuckles.

He settles his face between your legs comfortably, pulling one of your legs to the side and lifting the other to rest on his shoulder. With one last glance at your smoldering expression, he dips down and lathes his tongue from your leaking hole up over your clit.

You gasp, a hand coming up to cover your mouth. Every new sensation up to this point had been more pleasurable than the last, but this? The feeling of Tech’s tongue licking your cunt purposefully was nearly indescribable. It was more than just the physical sensation; it was also the visual of this man kneeling before you with his head between your thighs. Something about Tech had always seemed so untouchable, unattainable, yet here he was, mouthing against your cunt on a dusty floor.

“No need to silence yourself,” Tech chides, a frown on his brow. “There is no one around to overhear, and I would like verbal confirmation of your pleasure.”

“O-okay,” you breathe shakily, moving your hand from your mouth. Satisfied, Tech returns to his work dutifully.

You oblige his request with soft panting and gasps, and let your fingers run tentatively over his scalp. He hums in affirmation against you, making you twitch from the subtle vibration.

He focuses on your clit as something bright begins to spark inside of you. You know what an orgasm is - theoretically - and lay your head back down as Tech draws you closer. He alternates between kitten licks and sucking, and a tremble starts in your lower body. As it builds so does your anticipation. It’s almost overwhelming, and Tech notices you fighting it.

“Let it happen,” he soothes. “I’ve got you. You’ll feel better once you come.” More attention to your pulsing clit, and your leg begins to shake as your orgasm crests.

Your back arches stiffly, your mouth opening into a silent gasp. Tech holds you firm, licking and kissing your cunt all the way through it. Warmth, like liquid lightning, explodes from where his mouth meets your body, and for a moment you think you’ll never come down from it.

Eventually, you come to, leaning up back on your elbows as Tech stands. He wipes his chin with a thumb absently, and you stare at how his lips glisten with you.

“Was that your first orgasm?” Tech queries. You nod, still in a haze. He smirks ever so slightly, clearly pleased with himself.

“How do you feel?”

You frown, trying to think. Much of the burning sensation is gone, but there’s still an ache deep inside of you that has yet to be satisfied.

“Empty,” you decide, and Tech lets out another terse breath. You look down at his waist - he is stripped to just his blacks, and there is a prominent bulge pressing against the dark fabric.  Your mouth suddenly waters, and you lurch forward, startling Tech.

He stabilizes you with his hands on your shoulders. “Careful,” he warns.

“I want to make you feel good,” you insist. “Teach me how to touch you.”

His throat bobs again as he swallows roughly. “Another time,” he placates. “This time is about you.”

He slides his blacks down, revealing his cock, hard and throbbing. Your cunt pulses in anticipation. You’d never seen a man's penis outside of images on the ‘net, so you didn’t have a lot of references, but you were pretty sure he was more endowed than the average male. So much so that even through the insistence of the drug you were concerned if he would fit inside you.

Tech comes forward to kiss you again, pulling you towards him. Sliding his arms under your bare thighs, he pulls you off the crate and walks you over to where his bed linens are spread out. Breaking from your mouth, he lays you down, hovering over your body and slotting himself between your legs. He shuffles forward, groin meeting yours, and rubs the head of himself through your slick.

“Remember what I said,” he directs lowly, and you nod. Satisfied, he grasps your hips and positions his cock at your entrance.

You wince at the pressure and the push; not from pain, but from the experience of a new sensation. Even through the enhancement the drug has placed on your body, he stretches you, splits you. Your mind races, trying to find the words to describe how it feels to have his cock inside of you - full, big, deep - finally deciding that it just feels right.

A groan from above you snaps your focus back externally, and you look up at Tech’s face. His brow is furrowed, not unlike when he is focusing on a problem.

“Are you ok?” You whisper, and he nods, head dipping to see where he is feeding himself into you. He pushes forward, thrusting more of his cock into your body.

“Yes,” he breathes out. “You are very tight, even with the effects of the drug.”

Clocking your concerned expression, he dips his head down to capture your mouth in another kiss. “It is - you feel incredible,” he assures. “I’m going to move now.”

Tech starts out slow, the drag of his cock up and then down intended to get you acclimated. Your legs come up to hook over his hips, and you bite your lip at the way your body is dragged against his.

You sigh in pleasured satisfaction, eyes closing and body relaxing into the rough medical blankets. Above you, Tech watches the way your mouth opens and brings a hand up to caress your swollen bottom lip.

“How does it feel?” Tell me,” he requests. Your brow furrows as you try to find the words, and he urges you on with another purposeful thrust.

“Good,” you cry. “Stars, Tech- it’s so good.” You roll your hips up to meet his, body purring with gratification at the strained breath it draws from him.

“What feels good?” He prods. His hips circle, and you choke at how he seems to know exactly where you need him inside of you.

“Your cock. S’big. Filling me up,” you mewl. “I l-like it, Tech.”

“Good girl,” he breathes out, and you clench at the praise. His pace quickens, and you know that you’ll feel the ache of him inside you for days after this.

You feel an orgasm building once more, though this time it is sparking from deeper inside of you. There’s a particular spot inside of your cunt that his cock rams against over and over, precise and intentional. One of his hands comes down to press softly against your swollen clit, and you let out a squeak at the sensation. You try to fight down your release, wanting to drag this out as long as you can.

“I…am not going to last much longer,” Tech professes, voice tense. You let out a low wail. “Where do you want me to come?”

“Inside me,” you beg instantly. “Come in me Tech, please. I need it.” It isn’t an exaggeration - your nerves scream for him to spill his seed inside of you, to satisfy the fire under your skin. It’s what you need to relieve the ache that has been building for hours.

“P-persuasive,” he chokes, gripping your hips and fucking himself into you harder. “If you insist-“

Your legs, hooked over his thin waist, tighten their grip around him. You cease fighting your impending release, enjoying the way your cunt flutters around Tech’s iron-hard cock. He is enjoying it as well if the way his mouth opens in a low gasp is any indication.

“T-tech,” you rasp, and his gaze snaps to your face. A firm hand grasps your chin, and he leans forward, his chest pressing against your own heaving form.

“Look at me when you come,” he demands, and you do your best to do what he says, Your orgasm rolls over you, and you blink away tears of pleasure as he rocks you through it.

His own finish comes during yours, the way your cunt clenches around him wringing from him the orgasm you need him to have. It’s a sight - the normally so put-together man burying his face into the side of your neck to muffle the sound of his pleasure into your sweat-slicked skin. His hips slow their pace as he pulses his release inside of you, giving in to your request for him to finish inside of your desperate cunt.

It takes a moment for both of you to steady your breathing. You throw an arm over your eyes, relief pouring through your body. It feels like dipping into a cold pool of water on a hot day, body returning to a state of equilibrium.

Lifting himself off you slowly, Tech pulls himself out of you at the same time. Your tongue darts out with a gasp at the sensation of something thick leaking out of your still-fluttering cunt. You hear him let out a satisfied noise at the sight, tucking himself back into his underlayers.

“Are you all right?” He questions softly, and you peek out from under your arm to nod.

“Yes,” you shiver. “T-thanks. I feel much better.”

Nodding, Tech leans against the crate, letting out a sigh. “I am…glad to hear it.”

Now that the drug has been placated, your senses returning to normal, you start to feel awkward. Following his lead, you gather your clothes and slip them on quietly, leaning up against the crate next to him. You pull your knees up to your chest and lay your chin on top, wondering if you should say something.

“You are thinking very loudly,” Tech comments, and you flick your eyes at him. His head leans against the crate, turned slightly to pierce you knowingly.

“Is mind reading another one of your enhancements?” You mumble, and he gives you a soft smile.

“No, though that would come in handy at times,” he reckons. “I just mean that you should not feel embarrassed at what has just transpired between us, though it is natural for one to experience those kinds of feeling after their first sexual encounter-“

“Easier said than done,” you challenged half-heartedly. “But thanks. I’m…grateful that you were here.”

“Was it satisfactory?” Tech inquired, and you let out a short laugh.

“Well it’s not like I have a wide frame of reference - but yes,” you admit. “It was…very good.” You clear your throat, embarrassed. “Was it…ok…for you?”

Tech raises a brow at your timid question. “Are you asking if I enjoyed having sex with you?”

You groan and bury your face in your knees, and feel him shuffle closer to you.

“While it may have been born out of medical necessity, it was not a chore,” Tech assures you. He knocks a shoulder against you, and you tilt your head up to pout at him. That’s probably the most direct affirmation you’re going to get from him, you decide. Little wins.

“And I meant what I said,” he continues. “About…another time. If you are not opposed.” Your brows raise in interest, and you clear your throat nervously before asking;

“How long did you say it would take the rest of the crew to get here?"