Full Gear, Full Attention***
Pairings: Tech X Female Reader
word count: 2.2k
Plot summary: You discover that you have a gear kink while watching Tech, your boyfriend, work. This only leads to your first intimate encounter in the Marauder’s cockpit.
Warnings: NSFW, 18 + only. Explicit sexual content), Oral sex (first time receiving, f!reader), Fingering, Mild dom/sub dynamic (Tech as attentive/controlling), Armour/gear kink, Public-ish location (cockpit, though isolated) explicit language & sexual dialogue, established relationship.
Authors note: thanks for the request @crischem ♥️
The Marauder is unusually quiet this afternoon which usually means you should be doing something productive. Maybe you should be sorting tools, cleaning a crate, checking your weapons or even assisting Tech with one of his little tasks.
But the only thing you’re doing is watching your boyfriend work.
He’s bent over a console, tightening a bolt with a satisfied little hum, armour shifting and clinking softly every time he moves. And he’s fully kitted out today: chest plate, harness, holsters, gloves, helmet, the whole collection.
You should be helping him… You should at least pretend you’re not staring directly at his arse.
Instead, you lean back in your seat and sigh, trying and failing to tear your eyes away when he adjusts the panel and the muscles in his back shift beneath the armor.
He glances over his shoulder. “You are unusually quiet.”
You blink, caught. “Am I?”
“Yes.” He turns back to his console. “Normally you ask at least six questions while I perform maintenance.”
“I do not ask six—”
“You average nine,” he corrects without looking up. “Sometimes eleven.”
You flush. Then again, you couldn’t be surprised that he took note of your behavioural patterns. “I’m just… giving you space.”
He pauses again, just long enough that you know he’s assessing something. Then he resumes tinkering with a small component, the movement drawing your eyes downward to the way his gloves flex around the tool.
“What are you doing right now?” he asks mildly, though there’s an edge in his tone that makes your chest tighten.
“Watching you work,” you admit.
“Indeed,” he says. “I noticed.”
“What—” you hesitate, embarrassed, “—what gave it away?”
“You have not blinked in approximately twenty one seconds.”
You snap your eyes shut, mortified. “Well, maybe I was thinking.”
“Thinking,” Tech repeats. He sets the tool down and slowly, deliberately stands up straight. “Would you like to specify about what?”
His voice isn’t teasing or accusing, just gentle and intrigued. Tone warm enough to almost liquefy your spine and turn your legs into jelly.
You swallow as you shift in your seat, crossing your legs over one another… tightly. “About you.”
He steps away from the console and faces you fully. He looks so composed. So steady. And so impossibly confident in all that gear.
Maker, you’re in trouble.
“What about me?” he asks softly.
“You look…” you trail off, fighting the burn rising to your ears, “…really good in your gear today.”
Something flickers behind his tinted lenses. “Good?” he repeats.
“Yeah,” you answer, throat tight. “It’s just… there’s something about it today. I don’t know. You look…Put together.” You laugh nervously. “It’s stupid.”
Tech tilts his head slightly, studying you quietly. “It is not stupid,” he starts. “It is arousal.”
Your breath catches. “Tech—”
“It is,” he continues matter-of-factly. “Your voice has lowered in pitch. Your pupils are dilated. You are shifting your weight in a way that suggests warm fervour.”
You nearly choke. “Warm fer— Tech!” You sit up straighter than before and look around in case someone, anyone could hear or see you both.
He steps closer, “Don’t worry, we’re alone.” He then leans over you, tilting his bucket. “I’ve seen the way you look at me in my gear, just like today. You are having a physiological reaction to my armour.” His tone changes in a way that sends heat straight through your belly. “Are you aware of that?”
His words made you swallow hard. “I… wasn’t. Not until now.” A gear kink? This was news to you and honestly, you were not mad about it.
“And now?” His hands move to your hips, gloved fingers tightening in your shirt.
“Now I’m very aware of it.”
Tech inhales sharply, a sound that slides right beneath your skin. “I would like,” he says quietly, “to explore this new information.”
Your heart leaps. “Explore how?”
He gestures toward the cockpit behind him. “If you will follow me.”
You follow, heart thumping with every step you take. He lifts his hand to tell you to halt and you do with a small stagger and watch him in curiosity as he detaches the whole steering stick from the pilot's seat. “What are you doing?”
“Ensuring you are comfortable for what is about to happen. Also, this area demonstrates the best area for this activity.” He explains but you don’t quite follow.
Tech notices your confusion and with a flourish, you are lifted into his arms and placed exactly where the steering once was, practically sitting on the control board. “Woah-” you say breathlessly, eyes widening as Tech flushes up against you.
But instead of touching you, he reaches up to the side of his helmet and ever so Tech, says: “I cannot perform oral stimulation with this on,” he says simply. “And my intention is quite clear.”
Your breath leaves you entirely. “You want to…here?” you whisper.
Tech’s voice drops to a low heat. “I want to pleasure you. Thoroughly. Immediately.”
He then adds, almost shyly, “And repeatedly, if you are willing.”
Your stomach plummets in the best possible way. “Yes,” you breathe. “Take it off.”
He removes the helmet with practiced ease. The moment it’s off, he pushes his goggles up, revealing warm brown eyes already darkened with desire.
He sets the helmet aside before returning his attention to you. His mouth parts and your sex burns as you watch him inadvertently lick his lips. “Spread your legs for me,” he murmurs. “I would like to see all of you.”
Your breath stutters, but you obey. Your legs spread, but your whole being feels excitement as his hands gently guide your legs further apart, gloved palms warm against your thighs even through the fabric.
His voice softens. “You’re trembling.”
“Because you’re looking at me like that,” you whisper.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re starving.”
His jaw tightens. “I am.”
Then he takes a seat directly in front of you, lowers himself until he’s between your legs. The sight of him alone is enough to make your core clench. He glides his hands up your thighs and pauses at your waistband. “May I?”
“Yes,” you say instantly, voice meek.
Tech pulls your clothes down with carefully, panties included, setting them aside neatly before settling back between your thighs. The shift of his armour and the way it frames him sends a bolt of heat straight through you.
He exhales shakily, leaning in until his breath brushes sensitive skin. “You are already so warm,” he murmurs, voice thick. “I wonder if you taste as good as I imagine.”
“Tech—”
You don’t get to but in another word as his mouth covers you with a single, devastating stroke.
Heat explodes through you so fast your body jerks against the console, hands flying back to brace yourself but you barely manage to stay upright when Tech groans softly against you. The vibration shoots straight through your core.
You gasp, “T-Tech—”
He’s already looking up at you from between your legs, eyes molten, goggles fogging at the edges.
“This,” he breathes against you, lips brushing your swollen clit, “is far better than I predicted.”
You whimper, thighs trembling around his head. “You predicted this?”
“Of course.” He drags his tongue up the length of your sex, slow but deliberate, like he’s savouring data. “But the reality is significantly more intoxicating.”
Your fingers curl into his hair, and he groans at the pull before burying his mouth back against you. Maker, he’s thorough and hungry. It’s like he’s been waiting for permission to do this since the moment you started dating.
And maybe he has.
Your relationship is still new. Sweet and careful with kissing and nights curled into each other’s arms.
But nothing like this. The pair of you hadn’t gotten this far yet. And you definitely hadn’t imagined your first time with his mouth on you would happen on the Marauder’s cockpit console while he’s still half in armour because it was your kink.
He pulls back just enough to speak, voice ruined with want. “I have wanted to do this for weeks.”
Your breath catches. “Weeks?”
“I did not want to… assume your comfort level.” His thumb strokes your inner thigh gently. “But today, when you looked at me in my gear, I was left with no doubt.”
You let out a shaky, embarrassed laugh only to be cut off immediately by a sharp gasp as he licks your pussy again, firmer this time.
“You taste,” he murmurs in reverence, “extraordinary. Such a sweet pussy.”
You’re about to melt into the console just by his words alone.
Then, his gloved hand slides up your thigh, higher this time and pauses right between your legs.
“Tech,” you whisper, hips lifting instinctively at the loss of his mouth.
He raises his head a little. “I would like to use my fingers,” he says. “But these—” he wiggles his gloved fingers “—are hardly ideal.”
You blink down at him, dizzy. “Then take them off.”
He hums. “My hands are occupied.”
Before you can ask what he means, he brings two gloved fingers to your lips.
“Remove it for me.”
Your stomach drops yet your mouth opens before you can think. Most likely the heat, instinct, and want of this. So you bite down gently on the fingertip seam. He pulls back slowly, letting you drag the glove off with your teeth, sliding it free.
The way he watches you through it with an expression so focused, aroused and with breath uneven… nearly sets you on fire.
He repeats the process with the second glove, your mouth tugging it off while his gaze burns into you like he’s memorising the moment.
When both gloves are discarded, he leans in again, this time cupping you with bare, warm hands.
You shudder violently at the difference.
“Oh,” Tech whispers, voice tight with awe. “You react even more strongly to direct contact. Fascinating.”
Then one slow finger slides through your slick, just once, collecting you.
“And you are…” He breathes hard, pupils blown huge. “Stars above, you are exceedingly wet.”
You make a broken sound and he moans in response, actually moans, the sound vibrating against the inside of your thighs.
He brings his glistening finger to his mouth and tastes you.
And that’s what undoes you.
His lips part, his lashes flutter, and a shiver runs down his spine so obvious you feel it. “I need more,” he whispers.
You barely have time to inhale before he’s on you again. His mouth hungry and eager, tongue stroking deep, hands spreading you open so he can press in closer to devour you properly.
He licks like he’s noting down every single reaction, every twitch of your hips, every gasp that tumbles out of you. His fingers slide against you again, this time circling your entrance in sync with his mouth, building heat with devastating efficiency.
You’re already shaking. “Fuck- you’re so...”
“Let me,” he murmurs into you, voice thick before placing a sweet kiss to your clit, “please let me.”
Then he pushes two fingers inside you.
Your head slams back against the bulkhead, a sharp cry leaving your throat.
He gasps at the sensation, at the way you clench around him, his rhythm faltering for half a second as he processes the reaction of you wrapped around him for the first time.
“Oh,” he says, breathless delight spilling into his tone, “you are… perfect.”
Then he moves.
Slow, deliberate thrusts of his fingers paired with long drags of his tongue over your clit, down your folds, sucking, circling, mapping you with ruthless rigour.
Your thighs clamp around his head and he groans like that’s exactly what he wanted.
“T-Tech— I’m gonna—” you pant, one hand still holding the back of his head as if to guide him, the other one palming your breast just for that extra touch.
One of his hands tightens on your hips, anchoring you against the console as he looks up briefly, lips shiny, and voice ragged. “Then come for me,” his tone almost pleading. “Please. I want to feel you cum on my fingers.”
That does it.
The orgasm hits you like a blaster round—fast and overwhelming—your cry echoing off the cockpit walls as your back arches and your fingers clutch harder in his hair. Tech moans into you as you ride his mouth, pinned beneath your shaking thighs, eating every shudder like he can’t get enough.
You don’t realise tears have formed until you blink them away.
He doesn’t stop, even after you are done seeing stars when you close your eyes. He keeps going with soft, slow licks until the last tremor leaves your body and you sag helplessly against the console. His fingers twist and pulse slowly and leave you devastatingly empty when he pulls them out.
Only then does he finally lift his head. His lips are wet, cheeks are flushed and his goggles have slipped down his nose.
He looks wrecked.
And proud.
He rises slowly, placing both palms on either side of your hips, leaning in until his forehead nearly touches yours.
“You,” he breathes, voice shaking with controlled hunger, “are extraordinary.”
You reach for him, pulling him close until his mouth brushes yours.
“Tech,” you whisper, still panting, “can we do… more?”
He smiles softly like he was utterly in love and leans in. “With pleasure.”
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