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froggibus · 11 months

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Got Me Up All Night - Ramattra

Pairing: Ramattra x fem! reader (reader uses female pronouns + has a pussy)

Genre: smut/NSFW

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: Ramattra is used to putting you to sleep when you can’t, but he’s found a far more effective way now…

CW: slight somno (consensual), size difference + size kink, thigh riding, overstimulation, edging, fingering, Ram has a cock, spanking, dom! Ram (that rhymes lol), sub!reader, possessiveness, insomnia, unprotected sex (but he’s a robot so idk how that even works lol), creampie but not really (^)

guys I am so down bad for this guy rn it’s not even funny…trying to focus on my comp games but he’s standing there being this sexy and ugh (also ykwho, if you’re reading this, I have no words lol)

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It’s well past three am when you’re rolling out of bed and padding down the halls of the monastery. It’s been a while since you went to sleep at a reasonable time, most nights you tossed and turned until you gave up and resigned to wandering around until you found what you were looking for. Or rather, who you’re looking for.

You find him in his office, legs propped up on his desk while he studies a map. Though he doesn’t acknowledge your entrance, you know he knows you’re there. He says nothing even as you approach him slowly and climb into his lap.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and nuzzle your head into his neck.

Ramattra freezes at your touch. He’s not an affectionate being by any means—he’s never really understood why humans are so caught up on it. But having you drape yourself across him, your warm body against his cool metal, he almost understands it.

He wraps an arm around you, large hand settling on your back. “Another restless night?”

You hum in agreement, nodding your head. The skin of your cheek brushes his and if he was capable of blushing the way humans did, he would. Something about you just gets into his head, and while he’s never cared much for humans and their antics, he cares for you.

“Do you want to discuss it?” His thick fingers tangle in your hair, gently tugging on the strands.

“Just wanna sleep,” as if on cue, you yawn.

He nods, going back to studying the map on his desk. Still, even as he concentrates, his hand still plays with your hair and rubs your back and brushes your fingers.

You can’t help but stare at how much bigger he is than you. Ramattra, the omnic warrior who could crush you with one hand, but he’s being more gentle than anyone has ever been with you in your entire life and a part of you just melts. Ramattra, who you thought hated you and your kind until he lulled you to sleep in his office and carried you to bed. Ramattra, who can’t communicate his feelings for the life of him—but why would he want to have feelings for you? You’re just a human, after all.

As soon as he notices your heart rate steady and your breathing soften, he’s scooping you up in his arms and carrying you down the hall. He’s as careful as he can be, supporting your body with just enough strength so that you won't wake up.

He lays you down in your bed but your arms don’t loosen from around your shoulders. A quiet whimper leaves your lips. He tilts his head in confusion. You were asleep a second ago, and he was so careful.

It doesn’t seem like you’re awake though.

He sighs and lays on the bed next to you, letting your body weight drape over him. It’s a good thing he finds your sleepiness endearing.

You subconsciously wrap your arms around him, slinging one of your legs over his muscular one. You’re completely draped over him, and though the omnic could remove you at any point, he thinks it’s a good excuse to stay the night with you.

He relaxes with you, letting his thoughts wander from Omnic supremacy for a minute. He thinks of you, laying like this underneath him, showing him things he’s always been curious about. Of course, it doesn’t last long. Not when you’re suddenly whining and rubbing up against him.

He can feel your heart rate pick up too, the steady thumping growing uneven. He’s not sure what to do—are you having a nightmare? Are you in pain?

He scans you over, looking for any reason for your sudden change in attitude. He grips your shoulder and gently shakes you awake.

Your eyes flutter open, squinting to adjust to the dark. “W-what?”

You try to gather your bearings. You were having a dream, a really good dream. It’s then that you notice the dampness in your underwear and the way your legs are wrapped around one of his.

“S-sorry!” You stammer, and go to pull away your leg, but he grabs your hip and keeps you in place.

He’s so big, so strong—his fingers reach almost to your belly button while his palm is on your hip, and he effortlessly holds you still. “What’s happening? Are you in pain?”

You bite your lip and shake your head, trying to keep your eyes away from his. Your pussy is still gushing and you fight the urge to keep rocking your hips against him.

“No. I’m not hurt, I—I just…had a weird dream.”

Ramattra looks at you curiously. Your body temperature has gone way up, you can’t look him in the eye, and he can feel a warm wetness in the crotch of your pants. He’s heard of these symptoms before but he’s in complete disbelief. There’s no way you’re aroused, is there?

He holds you still with one hand while he slowly trails the other one down your side, slipping it into the waistband of your shorts. His fingers brush your swollen clit and you whine, trying to clench your thighs around his thick fingers.

Your reaction confirms all he needs to know, and then he’s withdrawing his hand from your pants and rubbing circles on your thigh.

“R-ram,” you whimper.

He finds your pleas endearing. You’re so frail and desperate beneath him, straining your hips against his grip to try and get the friction you’re so desperate for. Still, he holds you in place.

“Tell me what you need.”

You whine again, looking at him with desperate eyes and trying to rub your hips against his thick metal thigh. “P-please, let me just—”

He releases his grip on your hips and you let out a whine as you get the friction you’ve needed. You roll over so you’re somewhat on top of him, gliding your hips up and down his leg. He keeps a hand on your hip to guide you along, occasionally pressing you into him in a way that makes you lick your lips and roll your eyes.

He’s in utter disbelief. He never thought he’d be close to a human, let alone having sex with one. But you look so fucking cute, and he loves how he has complete control over you. How he can give you so much pleasure or take it away at will.

You look up at him in utter want and he knows what you’re trying to say—you need more. He rips the fabric of your shorts and underwear apart in one fluid motion, discarding them somewhere on the bed. The cold night air hits your aching pussy and the skin to metal contact is delicious.

You go faster, rolling your hips up and down in waves, the knot inside of you building. You know you won’t hold out much longer, and all you want is to finish.

Ramattra considers stopping, lifting you up and ruining your orgasm. But he’s not that cruel. At least, not for the first one. He wants to see you come undone, he wants to see how fucking pretty you’ll be when you cum for him.

It only takes a few more seconds before you’re clenching around him, muscles spasming and pussy gushing. He holds you still during it, large hand stroking your head, trying to keep you calm while you thrash around wildly.

You let out a sigh of relief, rolling off of him. “Sorry,” you say sheepishly. “I wasn’t really thinking straight and—”

Ramattra is on top of you, caging you in to the bed with his body above yours. “Who said I was done with you?”

You swallow hard. “I-I don’t think I can take another one.”

“You can,” his hand trails down your stomach, thick fingers starting to work on your clit, “and you will.”

You suck in a breath, your legs spreading against your will. You’re so wet and warm and waiting for him, your pussy practically begging to be opened up by him. He circles the tip of his finger around your entrance, admiring the way you clench the air in anticipation.

He slips his finger inside of you. Just one of his fingers is so thick, so long. He reaches places you could never dream of reaching on your own, filling you up so damn good. He works you open, watching you writhe beneath him and whine from the sensitivity.

It doesn’t take much to stretch you out enough to slip another finger in, the omnic pumping in and out of you at a brutal pace. You’re thrashing around so wildly that he keeps a hand on your stomach to steady you, pushing down and creating a pressure against the fingers he has inside of you.

He can feel your muscles starting to tense again, hear it in the way you’re whining. He knows you’re not going to last long. He curls his fingers inside of you, trying to get you closer to your orgasm.

You’re so close, you can taste it. You thrust your hips into his hand, desperate to finish. You can feel it, your whole body is begging for it.

And then he pulls out.

You don’t waste a second in trying to shove one of your hands between your legs. Ram catches your hand before you can even touch your oversensitive clit, grabbing both of your wrists in one of his hands and pinning it above your head.

“Do you want to finish?”

You nod furiously, looking at him with your messy hair and pleading eyes. “Y-yes, god, so fucking badly.”

He trails his other hand up your thigh, going so painfully slow. You arch your back, whimpering. Just before his fingers can slide back into you, just before he touches you, he pulls back.

“R-ram!”

He squeezes your wrists in warning, reminding you who’s in control here. “You finish when I say you finish. You want to be good for me, yes?”

You nod.

“Good,” he sounds pleased with your answer, and trails his hand back up your thigh.

His finger barely grazes your clit but you shiver, arching your back off of the bed. He can’t help but laugh at your desperation, the way you’re so whiny and needy for only his fingers. The way you’re so desperate to be fucked by an omnic almost double your size. It’s so dirty, he loves it.

He finally shoves two fingers back inside of you, returning to his earlier pace without letting you adjust. That burning need to cum mixed with your sensitivity from earlier and the way he’s so lost in your pussy is all too much for you. It only takes a few thrusts before you come undone around him.

This time is way more intense than the first, walls spasming around his fingers. He releases your wrists, letting you arch your back and whine beneath him.

He waits for you to catch your breath for a minute before leaning in close to your ear and whispering, “do you need more?”

You shake your head. Your skin is already feverish and sweating from cumming twice, and your pussy is so sensitive you’re not sure you can take much more.

Ramattra slaps your pussy hard, staring at you expectantly. “Do you need more?” He emphasises each word with a slap, admiring the way you gush with each one.

You like pain—he’ll have to remember that.

“Y-yes!” You gasp out, clenching your thighs together. “I need more. I-I need you.”

He hums in satisfaction, happy with your answer. “That’s the slut I know.”

His words fluster you, making your head even dizzier than it was before. It’s so brash, so unlike him, but you love it. You love how he’s treating you like an experiment.

Ramattra gets onto his knees in front of you, messing around with the plate just below his abdomen. Omnics aren’t built for breeding, they aren’t meant to procreate. But through years of the evolution of technology and omnic-human relationships, modifications have been made.

You’re shocked to see Ram remove his plate, revealing a tentacle like cock made of the same organic metal as his body. It’s long and thick, and it’s bigger than anything you’ve tried to take before, but all you want is to feel it inside of you, stretching you out.

Ramattra laughs at the size difference. He’s already much bigger than a human, and he knows that extends to every part of him. He knows that by fucking you he’ll be ruining you for every human man after, but he doesn’t care. Those human men can’t have you—no one can. They don’t deserve you.

He lines up the tip at your entrance, rubbing his cock through your folds and gathering up your juices on his length. It’s such a funny feeling for him, you feel nothing like he expected but he loves it.

He slowly pushes his way inside of you, feeling your gummy walls stretch around him. You whimper, desperately wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He pushes his way deeper, his cock stopping just past halfway.

He frowns. “You can take more than that.”

You shake your head, toes curling. “Too deep,” you protest.

He pulls out and slams back in, trying to force more of his length inside of you. He’s so much bigger than you, so much bigger than anything you’ve taken before. He completely stretches you out, reaching places you never knew were there.

He picks up his pace, slamming his hips against yours in a way you know will leave bruises tomorrow. He’s so deep inside of you, you can hardly take it. Regardless of the pain and the stretch, you find yourself lifting up your legs to give him easier access.

Ram uses this as an excuse to force himself deeper, hips colliding with yours with every thrust. He trails his hand down your stomach, squinting when he feels the slight bulge in your abdomen. He looks at it in shock—is he really that deep inside of you? Are you really that much smaller than him?

It only drives him to fuck you harder, throwing your legs over his shoulder in a mating press. You’re a moaning mess beneath him, crying out so loudly he’s sure half the monastery can hear you. Good, they’ll know who you belong to.

You’re almost sobbing from the pleasure, alternating between squeezing his shoulders and burying your head in his neck. Everything is so hot and sensitive, and he’s so big and so deep you can feel him everywhere. But you want more. You need more.

You moan out his name and please like a prayer. You’re not even sure what you want, what you need. Your brain has practically turned to mush at this point, and you’re getting close to the edge.

Ram can feel it too, and his cock vibrates in response. The feeling makes you shiver, only begging him to fuck you harder. You’re so close, so so close. All you need is a little more…

His cock pulses again and you come undone, tugging him close to you while you cum. Everything is so hot and wet and the faint feeling of him fucking you through your orgasm only drives you even more.

Your orgasm is enough to bring him close to his, cock vibrating steadily as he thrusts into you sloppily. He’s so desperate, collapsing on top of you in an attempt to get as deep as possible.

Finally, he lets go. There’s a hot warmth spreading through your stomach, and you look up at him through teary lashes. “Did—did you just…?”

“Organic nanites,” he explains, smoothing your hair back.

You nod slowly. It feels so good you don’t care, he could keep fucking his nanites inside of you all night as long as he makes you feel this good.

It’s not long until you’re starting to drift off to sleep again, your head on his chest and a leg around either side of one of his. Ram strokes your hair, admiring how fucked out you look. There’s still more that he wants to try with you, but there will be plenty of sleepless nights for that in the future.

#overwatch 2 #overwatch #ow2 #overwatch x reader #overwatch x you #ow #overwatch fic #xreader #overwatch headcanons #ramattra #ramattra x reader #ramattra x you #ramattra smut #Overwatch smut #overwatch ramattra #x You #ramattra ow

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gargoy-ross · 2 months

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Hold me - Ramattra x reader

Quick fluffy drabble thing, no warnings

You sift and turn on his lap - even with the pillows and the blankets it was a hassle to find a comfortable position against his metallic form.

"This cannot possibly be comfortable," he sighs after you've settled down.

"Not particularly," you hum.

"And why do you insist on this?"

"Because it makes me feel safe."

An amused chuckle reverberates through him. "Being held by a Ravager makes you feel safe?"

You look up at him, displeased.

"Being held by someone I love makes me feel safe. If that someone happens to be an omnic of a certain model, then I suppose it does."

Ramattra goes quiet, and for a moment you fear you've overstepped.

"Ram?"

You hear your own voice play from his voice box. "Being held by someone I love makes me feel safe."

He recorded you.

"You- Hey, that's unfair."

He tilts his head in a teasing manner. "Why? You meant it, yes?"

"Of course I meant it."

Gently his arms pull you closer and he rests his head on top of yours.

"Then I shall hold you for as long as you need me to."

#ramattra x reader #ramattra x you #ramattra overwatch #ramattra #overwatch x reader #overwatch #ramattra ow

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korpuskat · 9 months

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In a Different Light

[Ao3 Mirror] Pairing: Ramattra/Reader Rating: Explicit WC: 9,256 Warnings: Super vanilla + size difference

He’d become fixated, completely focused on a group of soldiers hiding behind a line of armored vehicles. If he could just dislodge them, they’d have an uncontested avenue deeper into the city. He knows he can rush them, can get in close and punch straight through their cover. He peaks, HUD picking up each heat signature before him- more soldiers to the right than the left.

He doesn’t see the one four stories above them.

”Down!” He recognizes your voice, but doesn’t respond, doesn’t move. He can handle this, doesn’t need your tactical input-

And your arms close around his waist. What? He looks down, takes his optics off the enemy- and he feels your heel kick behind his knee. It’s not nearly enough to buckle him- but he allows himself to go down anyway, dropping into a heap back behind the barricade.

The bullet cuts through a ribbon cable.

You sink back into the seat, weight falling off your shoulders. Under the roar of the engines sliding from VTOL to forward propulsion, your sigh is completely inaudible, utterly silent to everyone. Everyone except Ramattra’s sensitive audials. You close your eyes and lean back, yet unaware of his gaze on you. He watches your pulse reading slow from its rabbit-fast battle-ready pace, lets his optics linger on the long line of your throat. The skin there is thin enough he could feel your heartbeat. His servos itch to reach out and try it.

He had let you pull him down. Why? A snap decision he hadn't even processed consciously. But why did he trust you that much? He scours his deeply-rooted runtimes, searching for what it was about you that had tipped that reaction in your favor. In his favor, given the cable that sparks brightly at the corner of his optics.

He'd nearly crushed you, only landing on his elbow at the last moment. You must've known how badly he could've hurt you; your eyes were wide, breath held in your chest as you looked up to him.

He was touching you. Your arms were still wrapped around his chassis, hands splayed near the sensitive column of his spine, legs aligned with his body, one hooked around his thigh. His hand at your hip. In the peaking lines between your armor, everywhere your skin touched his metal he could feel your heat, your heartbeat.

For a moment, all you could do is stare at each other. For a moment, he couldn't seem to focus on his objective.

You slowly unwound your hold, but don't quite take your hands off him. They end up holding the broad ribs of his armor. He's... glad. He liked the contact. He squeezed your hip, relished in the soft give of your skin and fat and muscle.

"Sniper," You had finally breathed- and the spell was broken. Back to work.

The rest of the squad cheers and chats jovially, an easy mission. He would agree, more or less. As far as he can tell, the only casualty was his own shattered cosmetic cabling- an effortless fix for another time, for now he simply disconnects the damaged cable. But you aren't celebrating with them. The entire flight, you've kept your head back and eyes closed, swaying softly with turbulence. He can tell you're not asleep. Even if his HUD wasn't keeping him painfully aware of your vitals, he watches your hands rub at the corners of your armor plating the entire time, watches the twinges of your expression.

Pain? Ramattra wonders. Had he hurt you after all?

His GPS pings an alert for their probable arrival a few minutes before the engines shift again. When they do, it jostles you up, leaving you grabbing the supports around you as the ship comes in to land. His gyros keep him steady, never having to look away from his study of you. Without fanfare, the cargo door opens and most of the troops pile out. You stand, grab your gear-

and you look back at him. A little smile, a slight nod. He cannot smile back, would not if he could, but he nods in turn at you. You leave, following the line of soldiers ahead of you.

Only when everyone else has left does Ramattra stand.

Your quarters are blessedly quiet, at least compared to the open bustle of the barracks. The insulation between walls is thin, built for structural support, not individual solitude. At least in the lower officers quarters. The higher-ups are probably given more leeway on creature comforts. You heard once that Doomfist has a hot tub in every base.

You’d kill for a hot tub right now.

Still, it's quiet and secluded enough for you to drop your gear and close the door behind you. The ceramic of your armor clicks against the metal door frame as you lean back. Even the slight shift of your weight off your feet brings relief- as does the cold metal that presses to the nape of your neck, the backs of your arms.

He was warmer. Still much too cool to be mistaken as anything organic, but still... warmer than you had expected. The buzzing of his CPUs must radiate enough heat to bring him just above the freezing metal you had expected. He had moved more, too- the spinning of his fans had made him vibrate softly under your fingertips, but more shocking than that, it was as though he was breathing, a rhythmic movement of his chest. Some kind of ventilation, you’d guess.

You close your eyes. The fall onto your back had knocked the wind out of you- but the weight of him had never landed. No, he had perched over you, balanced on one sturdy arm, the cables of his mane dangling- the matte black making the stark white of his faceplate almost glow. You're sure it's just lights from his LEDs, but in the black shadows you'd swear you saw the red of his HUD in his optics. And he was touching you- cool fingers had somehow wound up between the hard lines of your armor, slipped right up under your shirt. Five mechanical fingers that squeezed so gently, so unnecessarily.

His presence around Talon was... sporadic at best- and you'd never actually worked with him before. His disdain for humans was common knowledge, but so when you'd been assigned to his team you had no way to anticipate that outcome. And yet it wasn’t… unwelcome.

With a groan you stand up again- no use pondering it fully geared-up at least. Your forearm guards come off easily, with satisfying clicks. You toss the plating onto your bunk; you’ll have to inspect it later- given the fall you’d had, you might already need to replace some of it. Next, your boots- which clatter together as you kick them away.

You reach up over your shoulder to undo the chestplate- and hiss with pain. Your upper back lights up with sore muscles, not yet ready to be used again. Fuck, okay. You’ll get back to that one, you guess. Instead, you twist your arm behind your low back and undo the armor over your belly.

Your door clangs- loud enough for you to jump. What the fuck? Who would be bothering you now? You hastily drop that piece onto the same pile and turn the handle-

Oh.

He's out of place this deep in Talon's barracks. He seems to know this, adjusting his posture to stand tall before you- a defensive stance against the curious eyes of your fellow soldiers that pass by. At full height he just about touches the upper edge of the door frame, making you have to tip your head back just to look at him this close. Even though there's no malice in his stance, your skin prickles.

As much as you were captivated by your little shared moment in the street, Ramattra is still your boss, more or less- his alliances with Talon are much further up the food chain than you- and there's no good formal reason for him to be here. So, you treat him as though he's one of the council. Someone way, way above your pay grade with enough power to end you and never even see paperwork for it. You stand up straight and square your shoulders, lower your gaze with a perfectly canned "Yes, Sir?"

His optics drop before he can override it; somehow he did not expect you to be undressing. Even with your undershirt still on under the white Talon armor, his thoughts race, circuitry threatening to overclock. At your voice, however, Ramattra makes a noise of disgust, shifts his head as if scowling. "Enough of that, save it for Akande." You blink, lift your sight back to his faceplate as though it made any difference in reading him. He must've already cleaned up; there once was post-battle grime, but it's already been wiped away. You look to his cabled mane- and there, too, his damaged ribbon cable is gone. "I came to speak with you." Suspicion rises again in your chest, even as he clarifies, "Informally."

Informally in Talon usually meant some kind of internal politicking that you avoided as best you could. Somehow, that doesn't feel right here- why the fuck would he have use for you?- but you don't let down your guard just yet. The instinct to tack on sir to the end of the question is so strong it nearly slips out. "What about?"

"I came to apologize." What? You bristle; if he means to apologize for touching you, well, he certainly did not wrong you by any means. "And to thank you. May I?" He motions past you and despite how much you absolutely should not be inviting Null Sector's leader into your quarters, you do so anyway.

Your room is hardly larger than a supply closet; it's positively cramped with both you and an R-7000 standing in the meager floor space. It makes his movements awkward, aware of his large, sharply pointed feet; even if your armored boots were still on, having him step on your toes would be unpleasant. Without, much worse. So, Ramattra gives you an easy solution: "Please, sit."

It doesn't help your pained neck at all, nor the growing sense of unease. Still, you perch yourself on the edge of your mattress and watch as he adjusts his cowl. "What did you need to apologize for?"

"First, I wanted to thank you for assisting me. I should have seen the sniper, or at least considered the probability, given the terrain." His voice box makes a spit of noise, not unlike clearing his throat. "I came to apologize for... scaring you, when you pulled me from the sniper's view. It was unintentional."

Scared? You can't resist a barking laugh, "That's all? I knew I was risking dropping a big heap of omnic on me. I mean, I'm really glad you were quick enough to catch yourself and all, but really, there's nothing to apologize for, you didn't hurt me."

He waits a beat, considering his words carefully. "You seemed particularly stunned afterwards."

Ah. He noticed. Your cheeks burn. "I guess. You did too, though."

"I had just been shot at and had to trust that a human had my best interest in mind." He tips his head, "If you did not fear being injured, then why?"

"Um," You rub at your neck, chase your thoughts for any acceptable response. "I was- just surprised. You were... very close."

His response is quick as he leans in towards you. “And you were not afraid?”

What is that inflection in his voice? Did he want you to be? You stare at him, try desperately to read his immovable faceplate. You bite your lip- and unbeknownst to you, Ramattra's optics tick downwards to watch. "No, I wasn't."

You must've picked right, because his voice box hums a little noise of acknowledgement, a light nod following. "I see." He murmurs, then abruptly straightens up again. "Regardless, I came to give my gratitude and offer repayment." You would tell him that it's literally your job, that you'd hope he would've done the same for you, but once more Ramattra's head tips, then nods just off to your right. "Is your armor ill-fitting?"

You blink, then look- and find yourself rubbing at your neck once more. "Oh! I mean, kind of; all Talon armor is pre-made. Mostly I'm just a bit sore."

"May I?"

He steps forward without waiting for your answer, but doesn't actually touch you. Once again, you're very close to him. This time, he's standing, towering over you with his full height from where you sit. He's offering, your mind stumbles over it, replays his touch to your hip. "Um, s-sure."

He already knows where the release to your armor is; his large fingers pressing into the divot before you can even begin to direct him. "Oh," you slip out, then awkwardly shake off each half, shoving them off the edge of the bed. His hands move towards your shoulders- and hesitate. He'd been quick to step closer, to dig into the protective paneling, but the actual prospect of touching you, even through the thin material of your undershirt, must make him pause. It's short lived- and his hands are cold enough you can feel it through the cloth.

You suppress a jolt at his temperature- but then he squeezes and all rational thought is expelled from your mind. The aching muscles of your shoulders have no choice but to surrender to his unflinching, metal kneads. It takes everything, everything that you have to not moan- and still he manages to pull a stifled inhale from you.

At once his fingers freeze, “Do you need me to stop?”

”No.” It’s all whine, a desperate plea to chase that same mind-melting touch. So, he continues on. Cool, smooth fingers pressing into taut muscle, loosening up knots with surgical precision. And when he adjusts his angle, steps a little closer and digs in again, you do let yourself moan.

He doesn’t stop- but you feel the tremble in his hands and his fans kick up their speed, humming louder in the relative quiet of your room. He adjusts again, moves to the outer parts of your upper arms- and when he squeezes there the sharp, near painful relief shoots all the way down to your fingertips. Your eyes are all but rolling in their sockets, it's all too easy to let your lids drop, your whole body swaying with each movement of his hands.

He presses into your upper back, in the tight space between shoulder blade and spine- and you don't resist the urge to lean forward. You aren't sure where exactly your forehead lands, but his metal is pleasantly cool. The vibration from his ventilation hums directly into your skull. It's soothing white noise- and you want more. Slowly, enough to make sure he can see you moving, you raise each hand and place them on the outer edge of his thighs. There, the refreshing touch of his metal is covered by dark-colored canvas, but the cloth does little to mute the hum of his inner machinery.

It makes your hands tingle- and it makes his vents crank open another notch. Beneath your forehead, his surface chills even more as coolant rushes through his systems.

The question of why rolls over your head, though the clarity of thought comes and goes with Ramattra's touch. It could be just some kind of curiosity or ultimately innocent fascination with the physicality of human flesh- something you doubt he's had much chance to experience outside of combat- but if he were not an omnic, the implication of his tentative exploration feels... obvious.

On one hand, Null Sector's leader was rarely around your base, the shame and embarrassment of being wrong about his intentions would only occasionally be relevant, but on the other...

You swallow and roll the dice. Your hands trace higher on his legs, over the straps there until you reach metal again. He all but trembles, deeply unused to soft human caresses- even more so to the seldom-touched ridges of his hips' plating. "Do you..." Your confidence slips- but Ramattra stares down at you so attentively, you can't help but continue, just to know "Would you prefer… more?"

His hands twitch against you. "If you are willing," He says it so slowly, so intentionally, he's talking to himself as much as to you. "I will take anything you would give."

Your shuddering inhale must please him, because he nearly purrs as he trails the tips of his fingers across your shoulder blades. Fuck. It’s hardly a question of what you would give, of if you are willing. You let go of him just long enough to grab the hem of your shirt and peel it off.

For a moment, your world is entirely black- and when you can see him again, half-bared to him, you're already shivering.

It's unfair to call it staring when omnics don't typically blink, but Ramattra's faceplate tips downward and doesn't lift- even as you scoot back on your flimsy mattress until you reach the headboard. Only then does he meet your gaze again. You can't see his optics, shadowed entirely by his stark white faceplate, but there's a heat about him, all his focus settled on you- and your heart races. He sees this, too, on his HUD- the spike in your pulse, in your breathing.

Ramattra waits only a moment, shamefully double-saving this moment to his memory files, then follows. Immediately one of his heavy, metal knees makes the hinges of the frame creak in protest. His attention snaps to one corner- almost furious for having interrupted his pursuit. It would be your luck to have your bed broken by an omnic war machine before you could even fuck him. But Ramattra slowly eases his full weight onto the frame- and despite the pitiful whining of your cheap frame, it holds up.

Which is good, because Ramattra wastes no time to lean over you- the staggering height difference between you barely mitigated by his new position with his knees on either side of your legs. Your heart is racing, pulse thrumming all the way down to your fingertips- and he hasn't even really touched you- but he's eager to correct that.

He reaches for you- and there's a breath of hang time. An infinite little moment between his rubber-padded palm touching your neck, a perfect little bookend to all that was before. Because cool metal circles the base of your throat- thumb and forefinger rubbing over the ridges of your collarbones and sliding on- until his palm presses to the center of your chest- and it's unlike anything you expected.

His touch is exploratory, cautious, gentle as his hand slides up your neck, away from where you had really wanted him to touch. Instead, the rounded tips of his fingers trace parallel lines up each side of your throat. He stops just below your jaw, where your pulse beats hard against the skin. Somehow, there's no threat to it- a Ravager is holding your carotid, your jugular- and you don't even want to run. No, he's turned the tables on you- you want more.

It's difficult to be patient with his exploration, but his fascination here must be sated, because Ramattra's head tips- and his other hand presses to your chest. It's still painfully chaste; he's much too high, fingertips caressing your collarbone. He shifts, presses the heel of his palm into your pec- and, oh, you're melting into him again, because you didn't even realize that, too, was sore. As much as you wish he'd do what you're thinking about, his massaging touch is far from unacceptable.

Instead, you let your eyelids drift close, rest your chin upon the hand still at your throat.

Ramattra hums at this, one thumb stroking over your jaw in a motion so affectionate it makes your heart hurt. His fingers linger there, at the edges of your face- while his other hand finally begins to move. The rubber grip of his palm slides over the top of your breast, but his wrist turns, skirts along the side. He presses there a little, feels the weight of your chest in his palm. Already your skin is lighting up, goosebumps racing along your arms- and Ramattra shifts his hand again.

One breast entirely in his hand, his metal still shockingly cold to the underside- and yet somehow, your nipple stands free between his thumb and forefinger. He's avoided it entirely so far- but between the chill of him and the tension rushing in your veins, it's hardened into a little point. He squeezes your chest and you don't stifle your sigh.

He watches his own hand as he slowly sweeps his thumb across the stiff peak of your nipple- how it bends under his touch- and with a gasp, it pops back up. At your whimper he looks back up to your face and does the same motion again, just to soak in your reaction. The weight of his gaze is not lost on you- every sensor in his array is focused on your body, your face, the little hitches in your breath as he drags his thumb in a circle instead.

Your response must be fascinating enough, because the hand at your throat finally travels downwards, mirroring the other. Just having both hands on you makes your heart race, but now you're all but trembling when he hasn't even used the other yet. You expect more slow sweeps. You do not expect him to pinch- your sensitive flesh caught between cold metal plates- and then to tug on them.

You squeal, arch into his hands- half to alleviate the ache he's produced, and half because it felt good. He only half lets up. "Is that too much?" His voice box is so quiet you nearly don't hear him.

"No," You can only gasp- and with his confidence assured, you break off into a whimper as he tweaks your nipples. It's strange- his hands have no give, no softness to them, each motion is only relentless pressure and the hard edges of each joint. It makes every touch more acute, harsher even with his slow, cautious approach.

"They're softer than I expected," He says- and he sounds so cool, almost unaffected by how he's already making you unravel. "And more sensitive."

Oh. Something falls into place. It's not just you. "Have you ever... done this before?"

"Not with a human." Another sweep of his thumb has you shuddering. His grasp loosens, your skin tingling as blood returns to where he'd held it.

His curiosity here must've been satisfied, as his hands slide off to your sides. With only the tips of his fingers skating over your skin so lightly, you squirm under him- and grab his forearms. He stills, glances up to you- "Ticklish," You explain, then press on his hands until his whole palm meets your skin. "Firmer."

Ramattra hums, nods once in acknowledgement. He doesn't have to be corrected twice; his study of your body continues with more pressure. "And you?" Methodical presses over each notch of your ribs, tracing along the lines of each- pressing into the unprotected flesh below them, feeling over the soft pouch of your stomach. No longer feather-light, now it's almost clinical, and you wonder if he's comparing your body to schematics in his head. It isn't until he pauses, squeezes at your hip- a mimic of the same touch from earlier- for you to realize he'd spoken to you.

Have you done this before? The answer is, truthfully, not in a while, never with someone who made your skin feel so electric. You lick your lips and guardedly answer, "Not with an omnic."

He seems to accept this- and to keep him from questioning further, you move to unlatch your right greave. Your bed frame complains once more as he scoots back- and then begins working on your left leg. When you're once more down to your under armor, he stops, half sits back onto his heels. The glow of his optics is hidden, but you have no doubt he's watching you intently, waiting for something. If he expects you to wilt and change your mind, you hope instead he's pleasantly surprised that you hook your thumbs into the soft elastic around your waist and roll off both your pants and underwear.

You're suddenly aware you don't know where to put your legs- sliding them back under him would be counterproductive. So, you be just a little bold, and let them lay half-open across his canvas-covered thighs. Ramattra shudders. A visible quake up his spine, ends in little twitches of his fingers. Fingers that immediately press to your skin, two at first, just above your knees, then the whole width of his palm is smoothing up your thighs.

Higher and higher up your leg, his thumbs skating along the ridge of the muscle at the top of your thigh, never dipping in too close. Even as he approaches your waist, so tantalizingly close to your apex, his hands slide out, over the curve of your hips. You whimper, voicing your displeasure at his continued teasing. Ramattra answers only with a soft humming and those same thumbs pressing in to find the divots of your hip bones.

As attentive as his touch is, it's not helping the ache in your belly. Under him you squirm, press your thighs together to sate your growing need.

This, too, does not go unnoticed. "Patience," He chides and slides his palms from your hips back up to your sides. "We could not linger earlier; I intend to take my time now."

Oh. It doesn't stop you from squeezing your thighs again, but you do resign yourself to his pace. Again he passes over your navel before traveling down; this time there's no more cloth to impede his exploration. His thumbs follow the curve of your pubic bone, coming so very close- before returning to the safety following the long muscles of your quadriceps. With a cant of his head, he's particularly fascinated by this part of you, following the imprints of his fingers as he strokes down your legs.

Once he reaches your knees, Ramattra slyly slides his thumbs inwards, between your tightly pressed thighs. This alone has you shivering, aching to think of another round of his slow mapping of your body- but the soft press of his hands against your legs, urging them outward has every thought fleeing your mind. Shame drives you to press one hand over your face, but offers no resistance to him opening your legs once more. This time, his route from your knees to your hips is no longer exploratory- it's measured. His pace is slow, agonizing- barely inching along your skin, sweeping his thumbs, pressing in when you get too excited; it's an intentional lesson in patience that borders on torture.

And finally- finally- he doesn't turn his touch away. Ramattra's gaze is fixed between your legs, watched as he finally touches you. He traces the sensitive, thin crease of your thigh first- the last line between pretendably-chaste exploration and something else.

And he charges right past that line.

Without any warning, he drags one fingertip right down the center of your pussy. You gasp- and he's skating over your clit, parting your lips, almost dipping into you- before pulling back. With so much teasing, one stroke alone has your body thrumming, heat spreading from your belly. Above you, Ramattra hums- and spreads your lips with his free hand.

The embarrassment of his hawkish observation of your sex doesn't have long to set in, because once more his fingers return to you. Two this time, swirling at your entrance to coat his cool metal in your wetness, before sliding upwards. When he circles your aching clit, you don't even try to stop the moan that escapes from deep within.

Behind his white faceplate, his optics snap upwards and watch your reaction. He's used to seeing humans' heart rates spike when he touched them, but never with such a sound accompanying it. It's... different. Another stroke over the nub, another noise from your lips confirms what he'd already suspected: he likes it. He wants to hear more.

It's just like with your chest. He's all hard metal, no squishing softness of skin and muscle and fat- wherever his fingers move, your body has no choice but to follow, to fold under the hardness of his form. Each leisurely swirl pushes at you more than rubs, compresses and bends your most sensitive skin in incessant, cruel rounds and it's like nothing else you've ever felt. And it's too much, all too quickly you're squirming away from his hand, desperate for a break from the onslaught.

He notices. Ramattra can't not notice when your languid moans warp into sharp whines, when your hips that were grinding impatiently against his fingers, instead begin arching away from his touch. He pulls away, ceases the minuscule contact- and immediately your body relaxes, hips raising up towards him again. Was he being too rough? He recalibrates, actuators hardly moving at all when he meets the pulsing nub at the apex of your sex- and once more you're dancing backwards, face pinching. Yet as soon as he withdraws, another neglected, aching noise from your lips makes his frame shudder.

He almost scoffs; what a terribly human reaction- to flinch from his touch, then crave it as soon as he stops. He doesn’t understand why you’re doing this, but he can at least guess you’re not in any position to explain it to him.

Instead his touch wanders away, down along the creases of your body. A curiosity leads his fingers towards your opening and the wetness that has accumulated there. He traces the taut skin before him- and your heart hammers in your chest. He's so close, so close to being inside you. Your body burns under him, begs silently with every breath. With hardly any effort, his fingertips are coated in clear slickness once more- two shining strings between his digits as he examines them.

"Are most humans this... well-lubricated?"

"No," It comes out broken, your psyche unable to take any more of this- and your tone makes his faceplate lift. The slits of his optics are black, but you stare into them anyway and sob, "Please."

All five of his fingers dig into your thigh, a full-body shudder following your plea. Ah, now he understands. He leans forward, repositions himself over you, his massive frame entirely covering yours, but not quite touching. The heavy weight of his forearm lands next to your head as he murmurs- softer than you've ever heard his vocoder go- "Of course."

And he slides one finger into you.

You don't make a sound- your mouth falls open in mute relief- not even pleasure yet, just succor to your unrelenting need. Ramattra, however, stutters through a moan- the hand at your head curls into a fist, shaking with focus. Your body instinctively clenches around him, pulsing against the hard metal of his digit. As distracted as he is with your wet heat, he wastes no time in circulating the finger inside you- pressing against each wall, feeling the softness that surrounds every sensor, that ripples with each movement.

The first withdrawal is agonizing, the slow pull away, the half-second that you're nearly empty is unspeakable, an awful torment after finally knowing the shape of him. "I have you." He hushes before you can even whine. And he fulfills the promise, easing his finger back in. This time, you sigh- light and airy, lost under the sound of Ramattra's own ventilation.

Your body slowly releases its harsh grasp, relaxing into his slow, careful pace- sliding easily with every stroke, the soft noise of your slickness making your face burn. As the harsh peak of your need mellows into Ramattra's pleasurable touch, you're once more met with the impassive mask of his stark white faceplate. He's so close, you think you should be able to see his optics behind the faceplate- you want to see them- but he's blocking the only light in the room, casting his entire face in shadow, save for the mild, red lighting from the LEDs around his head.

He's gorgeous up close; all sleek lines and crisp enamel. Here and there are tiny nicks on his plating, like scars marking his body. Where you pant against him, his metal fogs- can he feel that? He's too far- and you wrap your arms around him to pull him closer.

You didn't realize how worked up he already was. Even to your fevered skin, Ramattra is warm, streams of hot air escaping past your forearms. He is actually enjoying this. The realization makes your pussy tighten around him once more- and in turn he curls the finger inside you.

You buck against him, the rush of pleasure driving any reservations from your mind as you thread one hand into the thick, black cables of his mane and lick at the pistons of his neck. The effect is immediate- his head drops down beside you entirely, bringing his shoulder even close to your mouth. Near your ear, Ramattra's voicebox rumbles, somewhere between a purr and a growl- the intent lost beneath a wave of static. And not to be outdone, he slips a second wide finger inside you.

The stretch pulls a moan from your lips, made louder by reverberating off Ramattra's shoulder plates. Two of his fingers already makes you feel pleasantly full, a respectable length and girth to them made even better with his attentive exploration of the hidden parts of your cunt- very aware of how every curl of his fingers makes your body sing for him.

And it does sing. Inside you, Ramattra gently spreads his fingers, urging your body to stretch even more, pressing ever harder into the soft flesh of your pussy- and you're helpless as you writhe beneath him. You don't even do it intentionally- raising one leg to press harder against his chassis. Perhaps, if his voice box was not right next to your ear, you'd have missed the spit of static that follows.

But you don't miss it. As lust-hazed as your mind is, all you can truly think about is how unfair it is that he's shown you so little. The hand not tangled into his wire-hair slides down his back, skirts around hot air vents, and dips between each silvery rib. The touch makes him shudder- a minute shaking of his rig that you wouldn't have even felt if he weren't fully pressed to your sternum. You linger at the thin hourglass of his waist, squeezing the thick, black cabling there appreciatively-- and first, Ramattra's hips faulter, a burst of erroneous data coming from the wiring you'd handled, then Ramattra groans, loud and almost droning as his stuttering hips meet the soft skin of your thigh. The shape of his lower plating means really only the top ridge is digging into you, but any discomfort is more than outweighed by his fans kicking up again.

You're ready for him- grabbing the last silver bar over his hip and guiding him closer. He doesn't resist at all. Without a single word, he follows, allows you to match the pace of his own fingers to have him rut against you in perfect time. He's almost fucking you; the proximity of him, the shape of his fingers- and suddenly you need it. To know what he looks like, feels like-- if he has one at all (though you hope he does, please, please-)

Ramattra pauses his thus far near perfect fingering- and you almost sigh with relief- he must have the same idea. Instead, he shifts his wrist- and the pad at the base of his thumb meets your clit. It's a pleasant shock- and when his fingers resume their thrusting, rhythmic pulling against you, you understand what he's done. Every tiny twitch of your hips makes your clit rub against his palm, and with his merciless knowledge of how to make you squirm, it's all he needs to make you gasp and clutch at him tighter.

All at once you're close, hardly more than a passenger to your own undoing. Each curl of his fingers is targeted, a planned attack on the sensitive innermost parts of your body- and with the uncommanded ruts of your hips, he's making you just as complicit in the rising fever of your need, using your own reactions against you- His plating meets your thigh again- and something like a moan spits from his voice box, a choked, half-buzzing noise that has you gasping, aching-

The noise you make is hardly human, barely recognizable as speech. "Wait," And yet the effect is immediate, before you can even croak out a clearer "Wait," he's already stopped, every joint locking up save for the turn of his head- and the lights on his faceplate burn bright, an unspoken question waiting there. He waits, silent, as you shiver and breathe, letting the hard edge of your desire die down before you can find any intelligible words, separated by harsh pants. "Can you?” Less intelligible than you had hoped. “Can you… fuck me?”

The lights on his forehead actually flicker, blinking asymmetrically as soon as the words leave your lips. His systems are in disarray, faulting, replaying your request until Ramattra has to halt the processes manually. It takes him much too long to croak out a barely understandable, static-fuzzed "Yes."

The withdrawal of his fingers from your pussy is agonizing, the last ring of muscle inside you desperately clenching against their retreat. The iron will it takes to keep your noises inside is physically painful, but somehow you think if you were to moan and plead that he let you cum now, he might actually short out. As it is, Ramattra is barely keeping it together. His hand is actually shaking as he releases the shiny plate over his groin, the soft hiss of pneumatics accompanying the distorted sigh from his vocoder. His dark paneling joins your armor on the floor and-

oh.

The first thing you notice is the lights. It's mostly thick, translucent purple silicone wrapped around a suspended mesh sensor array with red inlaid LEDs dotted under the surface that are nearly maroon through the pigment. The second thing is that it's massive. As big as his frame is, his cock is somehow bigger than you expect. It’s not quite the same shape as a human cock; the first rounded ridge is almost right, if only for the fact that it entirely circles the length. Behind it, two more ridges sit further down the shaft.

You can't help but reach for it. The groan that rumbles from his synth is just icing on the cake. "How...?" Fuck, you can't even close your hand around it, thumb and middle finger easily a full inch apart.

"I made it." He admits with a sigh. The tug of your skin on the dry silicone is awkward, but Ramattra shudders and rocks into your touch all the same. Until he seemingly remembers he was knuckle deep in you for several minutes- and shoos your hand aside just long enough to wipe your own fluids on himself. Purple with little red lights and glistening with your arousal- it's nearly enough to make you moan at the sight alone. It is enough when you stroke him again- and this time your hand glides over his smooth surface with ease. Ramattra feels the difference too, his head dropping forward as a plume of steam escapes from a hidden vent.

"Please," You can barely make yourself let go of him. He follows your hand as it falls between your legs, slips through your wetness in desperation to ease your need. "Ramattra..."

"It was," His voice box pops. A harsh little noise, then silence as it frantically reboots. When he speaks again, it's clearer- and there's something in his tone you don't recognize. "... not made for human dimensions."

"I don't care." You whine, grasping at his side once again. But he remains unmoved, his hands planted firmly on his knees, faceplate trained on you. His hesitance draws you out of your haze of lust, higher thinking forcing its way through your mind. Concern- it was concern in his voice. Ah. "If it's too much, I'll tell you. We can-" You swallow, and consider the possibilities that follow, "we can try something else."

And when this doesn't quite sway him, frustration takes control again. With a pitiful whine you present yourself to him again, a meager "Please, I need you." your final offering.

The actuators in his hands whine. A pressure warning pops into his HUD and is dismissed before he can even process it. "Yes." He rasps- it's agonizing how slowly he crawls over you, but the joy that he's moving at all is all you can really think about. "If you require me to stop, inform me immediately." You nod vigorously, almost missing how his voice drops, "I did not come here to harm you."

There's no time to consider the tenderness that laces his vocals, because he slides the head of his cock between your lips once, twice. The motion alone has your hands grabbing at him- and your breath all together stops as he begins to push.

He's big. Even with his mind-melting fingering, it stings as he slowly breeches you. His force is slow and even, but merciless. He does not pause at all as the widest part of his cock stretches you open, makes your face pinch together, thighs locking around Ramattra's thin waist. There's a high pitched little noise somewhere- and you can’t tell if it’s coming from you or Ramattra. As uncomfortable as it is for you, it must be heavenly for him. And yet he continues on- not a single stutter to his patient approach.

Relief washes over you when his hard hips meet yours- and above you Ramattra sighs. You're so full. All the way behind your navel- if pressed below your belly, you'd be able to feel him inside you-- if you could let go of him long enough to try. And it's tight- and truly you could redefine the word, with how harshly your walls cling to him, how you can feel every ridge, where every light is, just because it has slightly less give.

"You are..." He begins, vocalizer rumbling close to your ear. Simultaneously, you shift your hips, trying to ease the pressure that fills you up. Even such little motion cuts him off, makes him press his cool faceplate against your shoulder. His voice cuts through with another tone, like a radio station going out. "Sublime." One large hand lands at your hip, holds you close as he rocks against you. Fully buried as he is, all you can do is gasp and cling to him, digging your fingers into the gaps between his ribs. "It's like a current." He murmurs, almost in disbelief.

His comment is so strange, so stunned at your pussy, it pulls a delighted laugh from you despite how it makes you ache again. You move one hand from his back- and your knuckles hurt for how hard you'd been gripping him- to slide into the cables of his mane again. Ramattra purrs approvingly, a rumble that fills his entire body, permeates into you at every point of contact. He rocks with you again, and as much as you need him to stop moving, if he actually stilled you might just combust.

It hardly takes more than your hand moving to his hip and guiding him into a real stroke- even if you have to grit your teeth and hiss at his half withdrawal. The sound makes him lift his head, turn the dark slits of his optics towards you. He watches as you nod and urge him on with your calves on his thighs. He's slow, keeps that same agonizing pace- easing back into you with as much caution as the first time.

With the stretch already easing, the balance of discomfort to pleasure shifts- and you're closing your eyes, letting the ripple of electricity coast through you with each little motion he makes. Now, it's your turn to sigh, that fullness returning to you- pressed up against the deepest parts of you. When he lowers his head again, his faceplate is not buried into your shoulder this time. No, his LEDs are warm against your forehead, strange with the cool metal between each light. This close, you can hear the soft whirrs of his optics moving and re-focusing. Your breath fogs the white ceramic of his faceplate. If he minds, he doesn't say anything.

He keeps the rhythm on his own now, slow and even until he's sliding freely inside you without any hint of resistance, until you're needing. Words escape you as you clutch at him, press your forehead harder to his, whine with each glacial motion. He hums again, shifts his weight onto one arm- so careful to not break the intimate little connection he'd forged- to hold your hip with one hand. You can't see his optics through the narrow slits, but every sensor is centered on you as he so carefully moves quicker.

"Is this alright?" His voice hardly makes it out of his synth, so low and quiet- and so easily drowned out with your moaning. He’s still so gentle, even with his endeavor to please you in faster strokes, they’re each guarded, measured with careful calculations. There’s no force to them at all.

You can't seem to figure out where you want to hold him; both your hands bury into his cabled hair and stroke there, twist until a stunned little noise breaks free of his vocoder, then releases, fan down until you can hold at his shoulders, at the long pistons that would be collarbones. It isn't enough. Your hands skitter onward, over his arms, his sides, over and between the broad silver struts, in the black recesses between and back up. It takes everything to twist your hands into his cowl and beg. "More, please," Your lips brush his face, "Harder."

Ramattra's entire frame shudders, the hand at your hip pulling you ever closer, once more burying himself to the hilt. "Your…" He rasps, still shaking. "Penchant towards self-destruction is… astounding."

Where he had previously chided you with patience, it seems he has all but run out. The need is taking over him as well, because he doesn't even try to dissuade you at all as he completely moves himself. No longer laid nearly on top of you, his large form stretches over you like a breathing metal canopy, bracing himself with one hand on the wall. He keeps the other hand on your hips- and his next thrust brings stars to the backs of your eyelids. All metal, no give; his hips meet yours with a new vigor. But even more, his altered angle forces one light node up against your front wall. He doesn't even have time to ask if it's good before you're gabbing at his smooth forearm, twisting one hand into your sheets. His name slips from your mouth in a plea, but you can't even understand what you're asking for. "Ramattra,"

Above you Ramattra purrs, the pleased little hum from his vocalizer vibrating out into your room. Beneath you, your bed creaks pathetically- above you, the clasps at the end of his hair-cables clack together, announcing his pace to your neighbors- and you don't care. All you can focus on is the rhythm of his body against yours, the staticy noises that slip from his vocalizer unbidden, where the pad of his palm has caught your skin, holding you exactly where he wants you. And where he wants you has your toes curling, your eyes fighting to stay open. Heat coils in your belly, and it's still not enough.

"More, more," You pant- pulling at his hips with your calves. The sore reality of getting fucked hard by a Ravager is completely gone from your mind- tomorrow's pain has nothing on the haze of desire that leaves you with only harder, deeper, more.

Whatever reply Ramattra has is lost, the noise from his synth a harsh tone that sounds more like a modem than speech. He complies immediately, his next thrust pushing you further up the bed, pressing hard enough against your cervix to make you gasp. The sheets aren't enough, you need to feel more of him- so you grab at his hand again, at his chest, where he's become positively warm. "Fuck, fuck, Rama-ah- I-" Every word broken by a snap of his hips, by the little eek, eek, eek of your mattress frame. Each thrust has your eyes rolling, panting, keening little noises because you can't stop them- and the coil is so close, so tightly wound-

and somewhere, you hear a coin dink onto the floor, hear it spin on the floor. It's so odd you can't make sense of it- can’t give it more than half a thought because you’re so close all you can focus on is the boiling desire that’s taken over your blood- until Ramattra's hips meet yours again.

And for a half-moment you're in free fall, weightless. For one heartbeat, Ramattra is moving away from you- or, no, you’re somehow moving away from him.

You stare, wide-eyed at the dark slits of Ramattra's optics- until one metal hand slips under your shoulders, faster than you can think. He catches you, but not before you’re almost inverted.

A glance up tells you exactly what you expect: the front half of your frame has collapsed, the legs have fallen flat against the floor. Fuck. It doesn't matter; that need has not been sated in the least. You shift your hips against his, shake his hand off you, and brace one arm between your head and the wall. "Don't care."

If he's planning on hesitating, you don't give him a chance. With a grab at the hand still at your waist, you clench around his cock. A real, true moan rips from his vocalizer and all caution is thrown to the wind. He holds your ass up off the slanted mattress with one hand, keeps you so perfectly stabilized as he ruts into you. Any semblance of order or careful intent is lost; the instinctual chase of pleasure has taken both of you. All you can do is lock your legs behind his thin waist and ride out each thrust, rising to meet him where you can. So hard and quick you can barely keep up with his pace, leaving you squirming beneath him, twisting your fingers into your hair as the heat rises again.

Your mind narrows down to a point, "Please, please- don't stop, fuck- Ramattra-"

Another groan from his throat and he grabs your waist with both hands. No longer just thrusting- he's all but pulling you up off the floor, spearing you onto himself over and over. He uses you like an oversized toy, fucking into you with abandon. And you hadn't even realized just how large his hands were. His thumb reaches right across your thigh, parts your lips to press against your clit. He strokes in time with his hips- and you're gone.

With him supporting most of your weight, you arch into the air- and clench down on him hard. Something in his throat pops before a groan cuts in. He doesn't stop moving, even as your walls flutter around him, as your voice goes hoarse. One hand leaves your hips- and something flutters down across one shoulder. You fight against the waves of ecstasy- each crashing over you, drowning out your senses in liquid pleasure- just enough to crack your eyes open as he peaks.

His body freezes, joints twitching out of sync, fragments of uncommanded movements while his voice breaks, a harsh tone pouring out before it clicks off entirely. You squeeze around him again- launching another wave for yourself- and above you, Ramattra's lights flicker, twinkle like stars- and then turn off. Offlined. Good. You join him shortly, closing your eyes and surrendering to the pleasant warmth that surrounds you.

When you wake again, you're right-side up. It takes a series of barely-coordinated blinks to clear your vision. It's somehow more disorienting than having been nearly upside-down to begin with. More so, you're not in your bed. No, you're wrapped up in your sheets, but you're firmly in Ramattra's lap- who has ended up sitting cross-legged next to the remains of your bed frame. It's... surprisingly cozy. The sheets soften up the hardest angles of his body and keep you warm while his frame regulates itself back to its usual cool temperatures.

"My apologies," He says in lieu of greeting. "It seemed impertinent to leave you... there."

From the forty-five degree angle of your mattress and how it's squished up against the wall. A white dust has spilled over your pillows- and it takes you much too long to piece together the Ramattra-fist-sized hole in your drywall. A tentative touch to your hair confirms flecks of paint and plaster. Yeah. You could imagine you probably didn't look very comfortable.

"Thanks," is what you try to say, but it comes out a rough rasp. You swallow several times to ease the dryness in your throat, but Ramattra seems to hum in appreciation. In all fairness, you had been all but screaming his name. A noble way to lose your voice. "Thanks," and this time, it sounds human enough.

"And I am sorry for damaging your quarters." He modulated a noise not unlike clearing his throat. "I may have gotten carried away."

You can only grin and slur your words. "S'okay, it's all cheap 'n Talon maintenance is fast." Honestly, it’s a compliment. Maybe a little inconvenient, but hey. Who else can say they made the leader of Null Sector cum so hard he dug his fingers into your literal wall and shut down? You shift in his lap, lay your head more comfortably against his shoulder. When you settle, he holds you closer. "Benefits of no questions asked type of work." Once more his only reply is a quiet hum of acknowledgement. It's an easy silence- save for the quiet whirr of Ramattra's fans, which have returned to their normal pace. Only when you absolutely need to know do you risk asking, "Can you stay? For a bit longer?"

He pauses, considers the question. He shouldn’t, truthfully. This excursion has already gone well past what he had planned for. But there’s something nagging at his logic circuits, the same little impulse that had made him fall at your command. It had saved his life before- and gotten him here. When has he ever been able to deny himself his curiosities?

"Yes. I have time." He says and pulls you closer to him still, until he can feel every rise and fall of your chest, despite the blanket between your bodies. Internally, he sends a message that he'll be unavailable for a debrief with Akande.

This time, it's you that hums as you bury your face into the pistons of his neck and close your eyes.

-----

Sequel

#ramattra x reader #ramattra x you #ramattra #overwatch #overwatch x you #overwatch x reader

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paganprankster · 4 months

Text

THE TILT OF RAMS HEAD IN HIS PROVOKE EMOTE GOT ME CRYINGGG

I need him fr. right neow. What if i did a lil fanfic of him to satisfy my hunger teehee

#multifandom #ramattra #ramattra x reader #ramattra x you #overwatch x reader #overwatch #overwatch 2 #overwatch 2 x reader #overwatch x you #fanfic #fanfiction

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theres-a-body-here · 6 months

Text

Scumtober- Day 20 (Technophilia)

Ramattra x Male!reader

The room was pretty quiet with the exception of a few clinks of metal and muttering from Ramattra. You absentmindedly rubbed your shoulders as you watch him attach his new reproductive part to his pelvic plate, integrating it to his interface. The room was pretty chilly and it didn't help that you were naked, but you didn't want to complain. Ramattra looked totally in the zone as he fiddled with wires and silicone. You shift a bit on the bed to get a better look at the glowing purple appendage.

"Did you have to make it so.......big?" You ask, a bit nervous about how girthy his new upgrade was.

Ramattra chuckles slightly as he finishes attaching the new appendage to his pelvis, a hint of pride evident in his voice. "Why settle for anything less than perfection?" he replies nonchalantly, running his hands over the newly attached organ. "It certainly adds to the experience."

Turning towards you, curiosity laces his tone. "Are you worried about accommodating such a...large member?"

You chuckle nervously. "Just a bit" you say softly.

"Don't worry," Ramattra reassures you, "I'll take good care of you." He steps closer, his large frame towering over yours as he leans down, your faces mere inches apart.

"After all," he continues softly, lowering one hand to stroke along your inner thigh, his clawed fingers tracing over the skin, "I wouldn't want to hurt my little human".

He moves his hand to your chest and gently pushes you onto your back. You lift your knees up to give him space to work with. You watch surprised as his fingers ooze with lube. You blush, you didn't think he was serious about adding an automatic lubing attachment inside his hand. You though he was just teasing you when he mentioned it weeks ago.

Slowly, deliberately, he reaches between your legs, pressing two fingers against your entrance. There's a moment of resistance before they begin to push inside, stretching your opening gradually. Despite the initial discomfort, there's an undeniable tug at your senses.

Your walls begin to adapt to the intrusion, welcoming his fingers deeper within you. As he works his fingers in and out, massaging your inner walls, moans escape your lips.

As your ass begins to produce squelching and squishing noises, a mix of embarrassment and arousal fills you. You quickly cover your face in shame, unable to believe the sounds coming from your own body.

Ramattra lets out a low chuckles as he moves his face closer to yours. "See? You're already responding beautifully," he remarks, his words dripping with satisfaction. "Imagine how amazing it will feel once I'm really inside you."

As you remove your hands from your face, revealing your flushed cheeks and needy gaze, Ramattra takes hold of your waist, pulling you closer until his faceplate comes into contact with yours. The contrast between his cool, metallic surface and your warm skin sends a jolt of electricity coursing through both of you.

His fingers continue working their magic, eliciting gasps and whimpers from deep within your throat. With each thrust, he grows more confident, knowing that soon enough, you'll be taking his cock.

Ramattra presses his faceplate firmly against your neck, causing you to shiver involuntarily from the sudden temperature change. Yet, instead of backing away, you find yourself leaning into the embrace, craving more of his attention.

As Ramattra withdraws his fingers from your tight hole, leaving behind a sense of emptiness, you can't help but whimper at the loss. But he doesn't leave you waiting for long.

With practiced ease, he moves on top of you as he hoists your legs over his broad shoulders. "Ready for me?" he asks, his voice deep and commanding.

At your eager nod, Ramattra positions himself at your entrance, the tip of his massive appendage hovering just millimeters away from your vulnerable hole. Slowly, he begins to grind against you, dragging his shaft across your sensitive flesh without actually penetrating. Each pass ignites a fire within you, causing your cock to stir and throb impatiently.

He chuckles darkly, taking great pleasure in watching you squirm beneath him. "Feels good, doesn't it?"

Taking hold of his impressive length, Ramattra begins to tap the bulbous head repeatedly against your pucker. "Please..." you manage to utter between ragged breaths, pleading for release. However, Ramattra shows no signs of mercy as he continues toying with you.

Unable to resist temptation any longer, Ramattra finally allows himself to sink into you, pushing past the first ring of muscle with a slow, steady pressure. The feeling seems to shock both parties involved – you cry out in pleasure while he lets out a low groan. You notice him tremble as he takes in the new sensation of having a member.

"Fuck!" he growls, his voice strained as he struggles to maintain composure. "I didn't realize it would feel this incredible."

Determined to enjoy every second of this experience, Ramattra continues pushing forward, forcing his massive shaft further into your willing depths. Your body stretches around him, adjusting to accommodate his immense girth.

As he bottoms out, filling you completely, you can't help but whimper at the overwhelming sensation. "Relax, pet. I know you can handle it." He says as he adjusts his pose, shifting so that his weight presses down on you.

Allowing himself a brief pause to savor the fullness, Ramattra "exhales" deeply. "Damn, you humans feel so good," he grumbles, his voice rough with lust. "No wonder so many others crave this feeling."

Experimenting with the newfound sensations, Ramattra carefully begins to withdraw, retracting his length millimeter by millimeter until only the head remains buried within you. Then, with a sudden surge of passion, he plunges back in, hitting the sweet spot deep within you. You let out a yelp mixed with a moan as your head falls back onto the pillows.

The impact causes him to falter briefly, nearly losing his balance as he struggles to regain control. "Fuck, this is even better than I imagined," he mutters, his voice filled with genuine surprise.

As Ramattra finds his rhythm, establishing a slow and steady pace, you find the courage to offer guidance through gentle encouragement. "That's right," you whisper softly, guiding him to hit those perfect spots. "A little faster now, deeper..."

To your delight, Ramattra listens intently, his focus solely on learning as much as he can about sex. Gradually increasing the intensity of his thrusts, Ramattra drives harder and faster into you, causing you to cry out in ecstasy as your body betrays your attempts at holding back. Ramattra glances down at where his purple cock drives in and out of your hole.

Unable to contain his amusement, Ramattra chuckles darkly. "Look at you," he teases, watching as you grip the sheets beneath you. "And here I thought humans had some dignity left."

Even while being fucked silly, you shoot him a glare.

Catching sight of your expression, Ramattra can't help but laugh heartily. "Oh, did I hurt your precious ego?" he teases, his thrusts becoming more rapid and forceful. You huff and turn your face away from him.

Realizing he may have gone too far, he offers a halfhearted apology as he gently holds your chin to make you look at him. "Alright, alright. Sorry, pet. I promise I'll make it up to you." And true to his word, he increases the tempo, driving you ever closer to the edge.

As the pleasure builds within you, your words become less coherent, reduced to nothing more than fervent gasps and moans. "Fuck...oh please, oh God," you beg, your entire body tense as he fucks you into the mattress.

Delighted by your sounds, Ramattra leans close, his faceplate pressed against yours. "Listen to you, pet. So desperate for my cock." He growls, his voice deepening as he drives home the point by angling his hips to strike your prostate perfectly.

As you approach the brink of orgasm, Ramattra decides to put you out of your misery. With a growl, he slams into you one last time, driving himself impossibly deep within you.

The sensation proves too much for you to bear, triggering your climax. Cum shoots out from your cock, painting your chest white as your body convulses. Meanwhile, Ramattra holds onto you tightly, grunting loudly as he grinds his cock as deep as he can.

Feeling satisfied, Ramattra pulls out abruptly, his purple cock glistening with lube and your juices. Your legs fall off of his shoulders. Still rock hard, he stands tall above you, looking down upon your spent form.

Exhausted from the intense encounter, you collapse onto the mattress, your limbs heavy and useless after such an arduous session. Panting heavily, you simply lay there, unable to muster the strength needed to move a finger.

Realizing you might need a moment to recover, Ramattra brings you the glass of water that was sitting on the dresser by the bed, allowing you to quench your thirst.

"Take a breather, pet. We've got plenty of time for more fun tonight," he promises, running a hand along your sweat drenched torso. "Next round? Doggy style."

You groan as he chuckles. You forgot he only installed the cock, not the actual cum production parts. Ramattra doesn't have a refractory period nor the limitations of human stamina. You let out a long sigh.

"Okay...I'm game"

Scumtober 2023 Masterlist

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strawberrylesbiana · 28 days

Text

"sleep, you're safe"

summary: the reader has trouble sleeping.

fandom: overwatch

warnings: none

not my gift.

Ramattra knew about your sleeping difficulties, he had already witnessed you refusing to sleep and working on your projects or anything else that kept you awake.

But what made him take action and try to get you to sleep at least two hours a night was seeing you pass out in the middle of the day.

When Ramattra put a lot of pillows on the bed and took your hand to lead you to bed, he lay down and patted the mattress to make you lie down.

"Rama, I don't know, I don't think that's the best idea."

"You don't need to sleep, I'm just here for a while, relax a bit"

Ramattra waited for you to lie down while he placed a pillow on your forearm to make you as comfortable as possible.

His other hand went to your hair, and he stroked your head as he watched your eyes grow heavy.

"Rama..."

"It's okay, I'm here with you, you can close your eyes dear"

"Thank you"

Your tired voice made the omnic pull you closer.

"No problem my love, just rest"

Ramattra calmed down when he felt your breathing become regular. He felt happy, he had you asleep.

It didn't last long, but for a first time it was enough.

#ramattra overwatch #overwatch 2 #overwatch x reader #overwatch x you #ramattra #overwatch ramattra #ramattra x reader #ramattra x you #oneshot

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lady-of-endless · 9 months

Note

Hello! I saw that requests are still open sooo can we please get something with the reader (neutral) who tries to seduce Ramattra? Lol. What would he do about it? 👀 Thank you!!

Author's Note: Ohhh. I've been waiting for something like this to distract us from how much angst we're getting now in the game. My apologies for the wait but I got carried away with this one and added a little twist to it, I hope you won't mind and you'll enjoy it! Thank you for your request! As usual, please excuse any grammar mistakes.

Seducing Ramattra

Most of the time, when Ramattra is caught up with a plan, he is working too hard for too long. Every time you notice that he's getting burned out, you find a way to lure him, to get some rest.

This time, your intentions were different and he could tell that by the way you slid your hands over his rigid ribcage as you stood behind him. The slight pressure was enough to stop his hand from writing. Ramattra did not stand getting interrupted, but not by you. Something similar to a shiver fired through his circuits at the meaning of your affectionate but sly gesture.

"Maybe you should unwind a little." You suggested calmly, looking at the scribbled plan from his desk. "We can lay down, meditate, read something, or tell me about your next plan…or maybe try some other ways to relax if you'd let me help." You whispered in a suggestive voice next to his sound sensor which was conveniently placed where ears are on humans. He exhaled deeply, already thinking how all of his tension would leave his system with all those possibilities you offered, especially the last options…

Wait. This wasn't right.

What a fool I have become for you, he thinks and straightens his back. Suddenly, it bothered him that you had this much influence over him. The power to subdue him into sweet surrender, to be precise. Was his usual collected demeanor blurred by the love he devoted to you? Ramattra could not accept it tonight.

"I know what your actions and tone imply." His demeanour changed into a serious one in the blink of an eye making you take your hands off him. "Tell me, do you think you will always succeed in enticing me like so?" His tone was daring. "Because I will put it to an end."

Before you could say anything, he stood up, pushing the chair aside with a leg kick. The movement made the desk at which he worked shake. The lamp that illuminated the workplace and the room fell on the ground, turning off.

As Ramattra turned around, you looked up to his face for clarification. Chills ran down your spine. Half of his faceplate was illuminated by the faint purple glow of his void accelerator that rested in the corner of the room.

Ramattra unexpectedly grabbed your jaw and pulled you closer. He noticed how the same purple light was altering the true color of your irises. He thought it was a mesmerizing sight.

"There's tension in you now, beloved." He made sure to emphasize the nickname he used for you only in private. Ramattra took some moments to admire the shock on your face. He hummed in contentment as he let go of your jaw.

Before you could even recover and figure out what has gotten into him, you suddenly felt a grip on your hips. Without having time to react, Ramattra picked you up and placed you on his desk. He leaned closer to the side of your face, still holding you in place.

"Do not assume that I lack knowledge about what your rapid heartbeats mean, or what parts of you are the most vulnerable to touch." He explained in a sardonic voice next to your ear as a cold fingertip slid from your hip down your tight and back up intimately.

You were stunned, this was nothing like how it usually went when you tried to seduce him. Right now, he was the one tempting you. He was still careful with you but his touches were hinting at his wish to break you in a bittersweet way.

Seeing how speechless he got you only made him more ambitious. Ramattra understood why you tried to seduce him so many times, feeling a rush of power.

"Are you willing to give yourself to me? Are you certain of leaving your body in the hands of a Ravager?" He could remember how long it has been since he used the name that once woke something dangerous in him (but saddened him deeply as time passed). You parted your lips to say something but changed your mind and nodded with your eyes closed. That was it for him. The look of surrender on your face and your surprised reactions made him demand more. "Say it to me, without even daring to stutter. I do not think that I have reduced you to silence yet, beloved."

In other words, Ramattra will make sure that you'll remember this lesson the next time you decide to try to tempt him.

#overwatch #ramattra #overwatch 2 #ramattra x reader #ramattra fanfic #ow2 ramattra #ow 2 #ramattra ow #ramattra x you #overwatch ramattra #ramattra x oc #overwatch scenario #overwatch requests #overwatch x reader #overwatch x you

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of-dragonss · 1 year

Text

i care for you

☽ ༚ ༵ ۰ ✧ ۰ ༵ ༚ ༵ ۰ ✧ ۰ ༵

ramattra x talon!support!gn reader

no use of “y/n”.

☽ ༚ ༵ ۰ ✧ ۰ ༵ ༚ ༵ ۰ ✧ ۰ ༵

the smooth metallic surface of ramattras thumb gently traced your lips as you stared up at him from where you sat on his lap, your eyes memorizing his face plate from every dent to the smallest scratch. right hand wrapped gently around his wrist as he continued to gently caress your face.

“you’re growing soft.” you spoke up, eyes looking through the slits that hid his optics. “for a human no less.” you smirked, tightening your hold on his wrist.

“you’re a hypocrite.” he scoffed, pinching your cheek, but not hard enough to hurt you. “three months ago you hated omnics. now look at you, curled up in the lap of one.”

“i guess we’re both hypocrites.” you chuckled, gently grabbing his hand, intertwining your fingers with his as you pressed a kiss to the back oh his larger one. “first time we met you told me i was the dirt you walked on.” you nuzzled your cheek against your intertwined hands, closing your eyes. “just yesterday you told me you worshipped the ground i walked on.” a giggle escaped your lips.

ramattra removed his hand from yours, knocking it against your head on purpose in a silent way to tell you to keep quiet. it was true, neither of you liked each other from the moment he walked in the talon base in egypt, towering over doomfist behind him. he was hard to work with, you hated going on missions with him when it was only the two of you. he wanted all the action when he went into his ridiculous nemesis form. but he protected you well, being his healer.

in fact that was why you started to like him. a mission gone wrong in budapest. a missile missed you by only several feet, still flying back by the impact, hitting your abdomen hard on rubble, sharp metal pipes protruding from the concrete slab. you thought you were left behind by your squad, vision getting blurry as you tried to seal the wounds with the abilities granted by your gauntlets on your arms, but of course they were damaged, you could only heal the smaller cuts before the gauntlets finally malfunctioned.

you thought you were going to die, bleed out amongst the rubble of fallen buildings around you. you couldn’t see where your team went. your ear piece slipped off your ear so you couldn’t voice your situation. it was getting harder to stay awake, you were trying to stay awake. the adrenaline wasn’t enough to stop feeling dizzy and faint from the blood loss. you thought this was it.

until the blurry outline of ramattras giant form was the last thing you saw before slipping into unconsciousness. he picked up your body gently, and cradled you against his chest. he didn’t understand why he cared about you, a human of all things. you worked well together despite despising the other for being human and omnic. ramattra thought this was just a colleague doing something honorable. saving one of talons top agents. for selfish reasons? he wouldn’t be entirely lying.

he wanted you around. he wanted to know why he wanted you around. so he carried you to the ship ready for evacuation, where moira was stationed, and he demanded her to help. and she did with slight annoyance at your poor performance today.

he was the last person you saw before blacking out, and he was the first person you saw when you woke up. you were confused as you gained awareness of where you were. you were certain you died out on the field. ramattra was looking straight at you when you turned your head to look at the figure sitting by your bed.

“good, you’re awake.” he stated bluntly. you could tell he was annoyed by the tone of his voice.

“and you’re here because..?” you rolled your eyes. he scoffed. just woken up after three days and you already had enough energy for your snarky replies.

“making sure you actually woke up. you humans are too fragile. too soft.” he barked back, standing from his chair. “i’ll notify doctor o’deorian.” before he opened the door to the hospital room, he stopped, looked back slightly over his shoulder, and muttered; “do that again and i won’t come to save you.” you smiled knowingly as he left.

the next few months went as usual after your recovery. mission after mission. but with a slight change to the omnics behavior. ramattra wanted you at his side at all times.

“so you can do your job and heal more efficiently.” he would scoff every time you said anything. but you knew why. he would shield you more. cover you as you helped talon agents on the ground as you healed their wounds to get back into the fight. he was more mindful of you. still obnoxious with his quips but a little toned down.

you also changed your views on him. you appreciated his help on the field. only one agent ever helped you, and that was sigma but he was always with moira so she can keep track of her more than intrusive experiments on him. poor bastard.

you no longer grew annoyed with him. in fact you found him enduring, much to his displeasure. he still wanted to keep his image, but around you he grew softer.

these interactions on the field developed more in talon headquarters. he would help you reach something you couldn’t get without the help of a ladder or step stool, and you would fix any damages done to his body. which he sat still throughout, surprisingly.

as the months went by he expressed his emotions one night. intertwining his fingers with yours for the first time. in private of course. you’ve never heard him talk to softly before that night. confessing his attraction towards you. you let him know you felt the same with a kiss on his face plate where his mouth would be, smiling up at the null sector omnic before you.

after that you two kept sharing intimate moments out of sight of the eyes on your colleagues. expressing your infatuation to each other. such as what you two were doing right now. you on his lap, hands intertwined, your other softly caressing the wires that could be passed off as “hair”.

“i care about you. ramattra.” the word ‘love’ has never passed through your lips, and he has never spoken the word either to you. but the both of you know you do love each other.

“and i you.” his voice was soft, low. the version of a whisper for an omnic. “you are the only human i want to be around. for however long we have.” he tilted his head down, his forehead touching yours. “my love.”

your breath hitched, eyes darting around his face plate. a smile bloomed on your face as you craned your neck to plant a kiss on the metal of his face. “i love you.” you whispered, bringing your intertwined hands to your chest.

“i love you too.”

#ramattra x reader #ramattra x you #ramattra x y/n #overwatch x reader

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colemorrison · 1 month

Text

Cool metal against hot skin in the now stuffy room, harsh movements as he thrusted inside of you.

"This is what you wanted isn't it, to be manhandled like the whore you are?"

Your silence only fueled him more, he couldn't resist it, he was fucking you so good you couldn't speak? Oh, then he'd just have to keep going harder to see how you'd react then. The noise you made in response to Ramattra's actions made his hand move to the back of your neck holding you down onto the bed.

"Such a slut."

The omnic's movements were harsh, your body felt like it was on fire and your head felt so light, pain and pleasure mixing into a jumbled mess in your brain. His hand moved to wrap around your throat and pulled you back against him.

"Do you prefer this angle, that way you can hear my voice right in your ear?"

The pressure on your throat made it hard to breathe but he didn’t let go nor did he stop thrusting into you like an animal. He was going to use your limp body as he pleased, fuck your pretty holes raw.

When everything had gotten dark he let go just barely before you passed out, he awaited the three taps but they never came so his thrusts didn’t stop.

“Is this what you humans like? To be fucked so hard you lose your voice? Your brain? Stupid toy.”

Your hands that remained tied together sat limply against your back, he wanted to have complete control over you which is exactly what he got with this arrangement.

Ramattra’s hand moved forward, pinching and groping your body before landing at where you needed him most, his fingers were gentle at first before they turned rough, adding even more pleasure and pain to the mix.

“You’re going to cum with me, I don’t care if it hurts.”

A harsh pinch came to your nipples when you didn’t respond.

“Yes sir.”

It was small, quiet and whiny but it was an answer. When you did finally finish with him you must’ve either fallen asleep or passed out. When you awoke again your pretty omnic boyfriend sat next to you, watching you closely.

“Is that truly what you enjoy?”

“God yes.”

“How about next time I gag you as well hm?”

————

Here’s the rest of it that you wanted so bad smh.. @ya-zz Surprise!!

#overwatch #overwatch2 #overwatch imagines #overwatch 2 #ramattra #ramattra x reader #ramattra x you #overwatch 2 ramattra #ow2 ramattra #for ya-zz!!#cole’s drabbles

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badyan · 3 months

Text

The clanks

"oh-…i can move, you don’t have to sit on the floor"

"I prefered it." he answers simply, not bothering himself to explain anything more than that. His metal feet clanked against each other as he sat on the floor nearby the bed where you were laying, doodling nothings in your sketchbook — the thing you have made a habit to do when you’re hanging out in his quarters while he’s busy.

And you have never seen him this busy before. Hours standing still at his workbench, staring down the poor blueprints, then pacing through the room, his steps more calculated than the clock’s clicks. Nights follow days and the first sun rays always wake you up because there’s no curtains or anything that can make this place cozy at its bare minimum — except for the soft cushions and pillows and blankets on the bed which he has gathered only for you, only because you asked, only because you wanted to spend more time with him.

The bed was giant, clearly made for two, but there wasn’t a chance in the last few days for you to feel the familiar weight sliding closer in the dark of the night, spooning from behind so carefully, his hands gently finding their rest on your waist. Something was haunting him for too long now and you wouldn’t mind waiting for him, no, never have you, but you simply started to get worried about his state — and you’ve approached him with that but was gently turned back to your rest. You knew that he wasn’t going to listen to you anyway — but you also knew you couldn’t just let him be in this alone. So, you’re staying with him for a while. Even if he barely talks to you, he could never deny your company.

And now you’re relieved to see him sitting down nearby to meditate a bit — for the first time during this whole time. You move closer to him, hand gently sliding onto the broad shoulder.

"You should take a rest now, hun…"

"I truly don’t have much time for that." he grunts, though he knows you’re right. And the constant feeling of your attentive eyes was the actual reason why he actually forces himself to set aside his work and go take a breather. Even if he can’t actually breathe nor focus on the meditation itself.

"I…understand.." you reply reluctantly, fingertips brushing along his long collarbone pistons in a little affectionate way. He relaxes his schoulders slightly, subtly giving you more room to caress, and interwhines his hands together in the meditation gesture.

You continue to glide your hand against his metal, almost trying to calm down its unusual warmth — countless hours of mulling over his duties must have caused him to overheat. Mindlessly, your fingers wander further, over his ribbed chest and up to his neck, where they stumble upon the shiny ends of his cable hair. And that soft clank of them gives you an idea.

You sit on the bed, right behind him. An unusual angle — were his shoulders and back always this wide…and somehow heartening to look at? Like you could lean on it and feel the safest in the whole world… He sit on the floor and you still have to slightly raise your hands to carefully grasp his hair, moving it all back. You can feel him flinch just for a bit and you can’t help but smile at him being startled by such a simple touch.

"What are you doing?"

"I’ll just put them up for you," you say softly, shuffling through the thick cables in your hands, feeling their pleasant weight and quiet clanking. He almost scoffs at your offering.

"There’s no need for that-"

"Hush now." you insist, hands brushing through his cables length. "I know how it feels when they start to clutter around and piss you off. Just let me help you a lil’ bit."

And he modulates a sigh, returning to his meditating posture. That’s where you take things into your own hands — and with that, you start to work. Carefully combing his hair, then parting down the center, then starting to weave some cables together in the order only known to you. Your hands go slowly, taking strand by strand so carefully, like it would hurt him otherwise — and Ramattra can’t help but to concentrate only on your movements, feeling every subtle tug and twist you made with his cords, but oh with such care, it makes his circuits warm up…

"What are you planning to make?" he asks after a few minutes of pure silence and, suddenly, you can sense something new in his quiet tone. A hint of hesitation…but in a good way. Oh, it clicks for you immidiately and you can’t help but to chuckle softly.

"Just braids" you murmur, leaning in to give him a sweet little kiss on the top of his head. Such a simple tender gesture, yet it almost makes him falter.

"Braids?..." his head tilts in confusion — and you have to grab it by the sides gently and turn back up.

"Hey, stay still! They’re gonna look great on you, trust me…" your adorable reassurance doesn’t leave him another choice but to surrender. Though, he does find himself enjoying this whole unnesessary braiding thing…Your presence so close and your gentle little hands doing some magic with his hair, these bulky cables following your lead, not without some struggling first, but still. It’s you — you’re doing something for him. You’re here, by his side, all this time…It’s enough to finally let all these irritating thoughts begone. His mind fills with nothings, sweet nothings indeed: your hands playing around with his hair and your breathing quietly making the peaceful rythm of the moment. You are with him.

Is this…the tranquility Zen is always talking about?

He doesn’t realise how long you two were sitting like this. He simply doesn’t care now — everything seems to matter less and less the more you’re tangling your hands in his cables. But eventually, you make the final tugs and withdraw from him.

"Here you go.."

"Already?" he asks too quickly, with an undertone of longing. The moment dissapears so fast, no matter how hard he hopes it to last just a little longer.

"It took me nearly an hour!" you laugh at his question, hands running down your little piece of art. Two thick french braids go from the upper corners of his faceplate down along his head, slightly resembling dragon horns which reach up laying on his shoulders where your hands carefully move them. The weaving was quite simple but made so thoroughly the ends don’t even need something to tie them up — the rubbery texture and the tight neat braiding hold the cables together without any additional knots.

"Now, turn to me."

He slowly does so, feeling how the movements of his head became freer. It feels almost like getting your body part replaced. The same, but somehow still different. He doesn’t feel like he dislikes it, he just isn’t used to the sensation, doesn’t know where to place it within his system — but when he sees himself in the mirror you brought up to his face, he understands it immideately. Love.

Not with the braids, though he does like the way they look on him. He is in love with you. That unconditional, utter feeling which makes his circuits overheat and that electric pulse go haywire till the HUD flashes with a bunch of new warnings. That feeling he thought he never ever would be able to share with someone…

And there are you, looking at him fondly, while being so busy adjusting the way the cables twist around his faceplate.

"You’re gorgeous…You already knew that, don’t you?"

"I-…" his voice stutters into a static — clearly from your sweet words — and he tilts his head slightly to admire your work. "I love it. Thank you, babe" his faceplate lowers to gently press against the crook of your neck, soft vibrations in omnicode expressing the whole of his feelings that he can’t quite place in words now, mimicking the tender kisses. And the way you slightly shy away from his touch, giggling and whining playfully that it’s ticklish — it only makes him fall for you even more, wrapping a hand around your waist and pulling you flush against his body in a tight embrace, letting himself nuzzle into your neck and get lost in your charming laugher.

A half an hour goes by unnoticed in the sweetest cuddles for the last week, accompanied by cute little pecks here and there, the soft sounds of your whispers, his quiet murmurs and the clanks of his cable braid’s ends when you playfully nudge him in the chest. Yet, suddenly, your eyes flash with an another idea and you pull away, leaving him puzzled and eager to just grab and move you back there for more cuddles.

"Now, you stay here." you lean against the wall and grab your sketchbook, opening it on the new page and biting down on your pencil, looking thoughtfully at your dear omnic, admiring the way confusion stirs within him.

"Why?"

"I need to capture your beauty" and you can hear him steaming from your words.

~~~~~~~

thank u for the idea, @statuetochka <з you make me feel so inspired with your art, hope this lil piece will make you smile

#ramattra x reader #ramattra x you #ramattra #overwatch #hiiiii !!#i'm new there and barely know how to tumblr :D #i've been reading ya'll on this tag for about several months now and i'm IN L O VE WITH YOUR WORKS #thank u all so much for fuelling my need for this roboboi i--#i hope this lil piece will make you feel hugged #also english is not my native lauguage so srry if something is messed up #i'm just so happy to finally publish this arwrarwra-

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froggibus · 7 months

Text

Just This Once - Ramattra

Pairing: Ramattra x f! reader (reader uses f pronouns + has a pussy)

Genre: smut/NSFW

Word Count: 955

Summary: Ram needs a little stress relief while he’s working, and who better to do it than his beloved pet?

CW: cockwarming, cervix fucking, overstim if you squint, Ram calls you pet, dom/sub dynamics, Ram is kinda mean, unprotected sex (but he’s an omnic so idk), creampie (but he’s an omnic so idk), Ram has a cock, mentions of aftercare :)

hi i absolutely love this man and it’s been too long since I got to write about him so what better time than day 3 of kinktober? cockwarming has been on my mind for a long time and doing it with Ram is just >>>> enjoy!!

Kinktober Masterlist

“R-ram!” You whine, shifting your hips forwards.

Ramattra’s one hand grip on your waist is bruising. He barely uses any strength to hold you still, all of his focus remaining on the holopad in front of him. He pays no notice to the way you clench around his cock.

You bury your face in his neck, closing your eyes and trying to think of anything other than how good his cock feels inside of you. He’s so big that he fills you up to the brim, your poor pussy struggling to make room for him. It doesn’t help that he has you sitting perfectly still, either.

“Please,” you beg and try to roll your hips again, only for him to tighten his grip and hold you in place. “I just—I wanna feel you.”

“You can feel me perfectly fine now.”

His words bring tears to your eyes. You ache desperately for more friction, the frustration starting to overwhelm you. You push your face further into the nook of his shoulder to hide your desperate sniffles and whines.

Ram rolls his eyes at the feeling of your wet tears. “Don’t forget, pet. You were the one begging me for this.”

“I-I know but—”

“But nothing,” he tsks. “I have important work to finish.”

You sigh and let yourself fall against him completely. Your pussy still clenches and throbs around his cock, juices dripping down onto his thighs. You tighten your arms around his shoulders, the pressure giving you something to focus on other than the pulsing between your legs.

Ram only works for a few minutes before he notices that you’ve gone completely still. He tries to ignore it, but your perfect stillness and even breathing get the best of him.

He strokes your back, waiting for a reaction. You don’t move, a dead weight on his chest. Ram grips your hips and lifts you up, slamming you all the way down on his cock. That gets a reaction out of you.

You whine and tense up, looking up at him with teary eyes. “So mean,” you mumble.

He keeps his grip on your hips, thrusting in and out of you at a devastatingly slow pace. “Mean?” He scoffs. “Mean? I’m so nice to you.”

Your knuckles turn white from gripping his metallic shoulders, trying to force a faster pace. Ram doesn’t let you, though.

“So needy,” he hums. “Couldn’t even let me finish my work.”

He releases you from his grasp and crosses his arms behind his head. You desperately pull yourself up with his shoulders, nails scraping against his back, before letting yourself drop onto his length.

He stretches you out so well, cock pulsing in your pussy in a way that makes your eyes roll back. You don’t care about how desperate and needy you look—you just want to feel him.

Ram watches as you fuck yourself on him, each thrust punctuated with a squelching noise. You look so small and weak in front of him, so cute and helpless.

Your eyes roll back, lashes coated in tears. You look up at him desperately, rocking your hips faster in your frustration. Ram sighs.

He must be getting weak, because he would have let you get off this easy otherwise.

He lifts you off of his lap, bending you over his desk. “Alright, pet,” he bottoms out inside of you, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. “But just this once.”

You drool at the way he fucks you, bottoming out with every thrust. You stretch your arms across the desk and grasp the edge—anything to keep your mind from turning to mush.

His pace is brutal, his cock only leaving the tightness between your legs for milliseconds before pushing back in. Your legs shake, giving out and leaving you flattened against the desk.

The heat that’s been building in your stomach threatens to explode, all of your muscles quivering in anticipation. You squeeze your eyes shut, clenching up around his cock as your orgasm washes over you.

Ram keeps fucking into you, your pussy fluttering around him with every thrust. He knows you came from the juices that splattered his stomach and dripped down his legs, but he hasn’t.

The heat from your orgasm doesn’t dissipate, sensitivity overwhelming you. Your pussy aches from the overstimulation, every movement of his cock enough to make your head spin.

You tighten your grip on the desk and pull yourself forward—whether to ground yourself or escape, you’re not sure.

Ram grabs your hips and pulls you back into him, prying your hands off of the desk. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Your words fail you, washed away in the waves of pleasure from how he’s fucking you. He grabs your wrists together, pinning them behind your back. Your cheek presses into the desk and the cold wood feels like bliss on your hot skin.

He uses your hands as leverage to keep fucking you, his thrusts getting sloppier each time. You know it won’t be long now. He drives you into the desk, the wood starting to slide across the floor with every thrust. The impact of his thighs against yours is hard enough to bruise, but the pain feels so good.

“Such a good pet,” he groans. “Such a good cocksleeve.”

His cock twitches, hot liquid filling you up. You go limp on the desk and let him finish pumping inside of you. Your pussy aches when he pulls out, clenching around the air.

Ram strokes your head, “are you alright?”

You nod weakly. Your whole body is warm and sore, and you’re sure walking will be next to impossible in the morning.

He wraps his arms around you. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

#overwatch 2 #overwatch #ow2 #overwatch x reader #overwatch x you #ow #overwatch fic #xreader #x you #overwatch ramattra #ramattra ow #ramattra x you #ramattra overwatch #ramattra x reader #ramattra smut #ramattra #ramattra x reader smut

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gargoy-ross · 2 months

Text

Tea - Ramattra x reader

Warnings: none

Word count: 343

Ramattra has a habit of making you tea.

He does so every morning when you're still half asleep and barely able to drag yourself to the kitchen. It's rare to find him there, he has no need for that kind of sustenance, but the warm drink is always freshly made for you regardless.

When you're both busy during the day he'll always find time to stop by to bring you a cup. He might stay for a moment with you too, though often there's no words exchanged as you sit in a comfortable silence.

On those evenings when you're drowning yourself in work he'll quietly place it on your desk, careful to not to disturb your focus.

And if your day has stretched all the way to night he'll offer you the drink along with a cozy blanket and some company.

You wonder it sometimes, why he does that. He can't drink anything, he's an omnic after all, and he surely knows you're capable of making it yourself. Yet he still goes out of his way to brew some just for you.

If you were to ask him why, he'd be amused at your question.

"You enjoy it, do you not?" he'd hum.

You will not get any more of an answer from him, so you resign on simply enjoying your drink. Ramattra has never been much of a talker anyway.

What you don't know is that that is precisely the reason he does it.

It is his way of letting you know that he thinks about you. You're on his mind from the moment the sun rises to till the moon has long ago climbed its way to the sky.

I thought about you today.

This reminded me of you.

I missed your company.

He does not have words to tell you, so he hopes that those small actions of love will show you that you truly do mean everything to him. Maybe the warmth of the drink will somehow convey that which he feels towards you.

I love you.

#ramattra x reader #ramattra x you #ramattra #ramattra overwatch #overwatch x reader

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korpuskat · 9 months

Text

Spectrum

[Ao3 Mirror] Pairing: Ramattra/Reader Rating: Mature (sexual content referenced, but not explicit) WC: 2,918 Warnings: None Sequel to In A Different Light -----

The lackey behind the counter hardly looks up, barely says anything as they pass you the repair request forms. It's fine, you get it. Menial labor, repetitive office bullshit, dealing with the guys who walk their mechs into walls when training while trying to avoid the higher-ups gaze. Normal Talon stuff. This is perfectly true until he asks you what floor of the barracks you're on, what wing.

And suddenly the lady behind him perks up. She doesn't even try to hide how she looks you over, making some unspoken assessment, then grins and returns to her tablet.

The barely suppressed smile infects his voice with excitement. "Don't suppose you're in 1813, are you?"

Oh. Fuck. "Yeah, I am."

"Kinda wondering when you'd make it down here." He says, typing in your information. "If you would."

You shouldn't say anything. You really, really shouldn't.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Oh, you know." He grins at you, fucking winks like you're in on the joke. "There was a pool if you'd be here or the infirmary first."

The infirmary? Why would you- actually, he did break your bed and leave a hole in your wall and you have had this peculiar ache behind your belly button and you definitely have huge purple splotches over your hips where he'd grabbed you, so, okay, that's fair.

"I guess you won then." Is the light-lipped answer you come up with, unsure how to explain that you really don't want to be part of this conversation anymore. Please, just fix your bed and wall. Gossip when you're not around.

The guy opens his mouth- and you feel it before his expression changes. A cool wind brushes against the back of your neck, down your spine, over the backs of your arms. Sickly, somehow, like the air itself clings to you, crawls on you. Everyone behind the counter looks away. His joy is gone, but the fear is carefully masked. "Reason for repairs?"

Behind you, boots stomp by. He doesn't leave, from the sound, from the way nobody exhales. You don't look, keep your eyes trained on the counter, on a little fleck where the linoleum is peeling away. He's somewhere in a corner, waiting for something. "Accident."

The lackey visibly cringes. Suddenly he, too, doesn't want to be in this conversation. "Gotta be more specific."

Fucker. Your voice is barely restrained as you bite out, "Sparring accident."

Behind you, the Reaper snorts.

When Ramattra returns to your base, perhaps only two weeks later, you really expect him to just proceed as business as usual. Like nothing had happened; he'd sated his curiosity, you're off his radar. Figuratively. You do not, under any circumstances, expect to be pulled off regular duties to be part of his temporary squadron.

It's a formality. He doesn't need one. He's here to inspect an airship, to discuss modifications to be made before it goes into mass production.

With an irritated sigh and wave of his hand, he summarily dismisses the entire squadron as soon as he sees them waiting in the hangar. The rest leave. You should join them. It's so... presumptuous, to think he thinks about you, that he even remembers you. He's leading a revolution for his people and you're a grunt he fucked once. But your boots may as well have been glued to the floor, no matter how much you want to scream at yourself to move, to turn away, you can't.

And his gaze settles on you.

And he nods towards the airship's ramp.

You follow behind him.

It's the first time you watch him leave. Every time before- three, now, not that you're counting- he's quietly departed your quarters. After making sure you're well cared for. That part had always confused you- left your chest aching in a way completely different than your hips.

But this time, you're not left alone in your mattress working up the courage to go file a repair request again. No, as part of his squadron you get to see him off this time. It's all a show, Ramattra had complained about it before- serves nothing but to boost their little human egos. He wasn't wrong, there's no need for you to be here. In fact, you really don't want to be here.

You've never seen Doomfist in person, but he personally escorts Ramattra to his shuttle. He speaks confidently, but quietly enough you can't make out what he's saying, even as he gestures broadly with his cybernetic arm. Even seeing him content makes your stomach flip uneasily, not wanting to be around if something does go wrong.

Ramattra... looks different. It's hard to believe how quickly you've become used to seeing him relaxed. Not just when he's moving in you- no, even when he sits with you, walks about the base, he never looks like this anymore. All seriousness and focused, the weight of the world back on his shoulders.

They speak a moment more, then Ramattra bows his head and turns towards his ship. He stops-

and across the launch bay, Ramattra's faceplate turns towards you. He pauses. Says nothing, hardly moves- but you know. He's looking directly at you. You stare back, unsure why you have his attention now- and ever so slightly his head dips. A tiny nod goodbye, just for you.

Your chest aches.

You smile slightly and nod back- and he's gone, entering his ship and flying away.

You don’t know who finally made the call to assign Ramattra temporary quarters at your base, but you would love to have seen that conversation. Because Ramattra’s voice is perfectly neutral as he comments that his quarters had not only a heavy duty, solid steel bed frame to support his weight- nevermind that he doesn’t sleep- but also reinforced walls.

They knew, of course. But the fact that someone high up enough knew to make the recommendation is what really gets you. Because nobody has said anything to you. Maybe they’re smart enough to- you doubt Ramattra would be particularly pleased with you being public knowledge.

And, well, not saying anything has ended up being your approach with Ramattra so far, too. Despite the frequency that he’d return to your doorway (and now you to his), or the repeated repair requests and occasional trips to medical and skeptical looks in return, you’d never explicitly asked what was going on. What exactly you were to him.

And normally that would be fine! Soldier’s bond or whatever, some bullshit to say “logistically and emotionally easiest lay.” It’s common enough. But you’ve never laid in a squadmate’s bed hours after, never dozed lightly in someone else’s blankets as they work at the desk a foot away- and never felt that perhaps that was still too far from you.

It’s the latter right now that sits heavy on your chest.

You shift beneath his sheets- a silky, deep purple that ripples with every moment. You watch, silent, as he turns some kind of device in his hands, taps it occasionally with an electric soldering iron. You sit up slowly, lean into his pillows. Even the pillowcases match. Probably actual silk knowing Talon’s propensity to keep their board members happy. Fuckers. He doesn’t even meditate on the bed.

“Ramattra,” The question bubbles out of you before you can stop it. “Can I… kiss you?”

He stills. But here, you must acknowledge how close you’ve gotten- because you can tell. Where someone else may feel that pang of fear, that his quiet is a wind-up to rage or impatience or condescension, no, you can read his shoulders perfectly. He’s genuinely contemplating the request.

He looks to you, and he doesn’t need a face for you to feel the incredulity in his voice. “You do understand I do not possess a mouth, correct?”

“I know.” You stand and sweep one thin blanket with you as you move to him. And here- he turns away from his project, sets his iron down, opens his arms for you. When you settle into his lap, he supports you- and when you reach for his face, his jaw, he lowers his head into your touch. You sweep a thumb across the lowest part of the white composite, feel the little crease between it and the purple of his jaw plate. “But I could still kiss you..”

His whole face rumbles into your palm as he hums, considering this. “Alright, though I do not understand what you would gain from this.”

And that is a lie, though you’re not sure who it’s for. It’s fine though, you don’t call him on it. Instead, you guide his head down as you stretch up- until your breath ghosts against him, leaving little puffs of foggy condensation. And you kiss him. Right across the seam between his plates, your lips squishing into the gap, flattening against his metal.

And it would be like kissing a training bot, all cold, motionless metal against your lips- and that must be what he expects you to feel, his disbelief you’d get anything from this. It would be, except for everything else about him. His hands come up to the curve of your spine, to the back of your head, cradling you so gently- and even with such a small display, his fans kick up, a quiet hum purring a hair louder from his chest. Without a mouth, he’s hardly unaffected- and against his faceplate you smile and pull away. His optics cannot, by design, be half-lidded and glazed, but you think they would be if they could.

“Did that… satisfy you?” He rumbles lowly.

“For now.” You grin and tuck yourself deeper into his lap. When he realizes you have no intention of returning to his bed, he makes a show of sighing and adjusting the stolen blanket so you’re well-wrapped and all the ends are tucked safely away before he returns to his work.

"Can I ask you a question?" You murmur, eyes still closed. He's foregone the blanket this time, holding you right up against his chest; you had curled up with him so quickly he hasn't even had time to put his paneling back on. The spars of his ribs are a little uncomfortable, but he's still so warm that you can't complain.

"Of course." His systems have already refreshed, perfectly capable of going on with his day. Unlike you, you're still wavering and floaty and in need of a shower. He's used to it. Being able to hold you afterwards is... enjoyable. He allows himself to trace shapes over your skin. He had noticed, once, how you smile softly when he does it.

"It's personal."

Ramattra's head shifts, looks down at you slightly. He's told you about himself. About the times before he was himself, about the Shambali, about the slave shops he's destroyed, about London. About Lanet. What could you possibly ask that you felt the need to warn him about first? "Go on."

"Who did you make your dick for?" Oh. He shifts awkwardly, ceases the motions of his hands. When he doesn't answer you continue, "You told me you didn't make it for humans, so, I dunno. Was just curious."

It takes several moments before he can manage to put together a stilted "Does it matter?"

You hum softly and lean back against him. "No." You swap the places of your hand with his, sweeping your thumb across the purple plating. You really didn't want to upset him- the likelihood his previous relationships have ended particularly badly is ridiculously high. "It's okay, you don't have to tell me about your exes. Like I said, just curious."

Ramattra has never quite understood the desire to grimace until now. It's not important, and yet... that annoying little whisper has returned to his circuits, prodding at his runtimes until he's forcing the words through his synth. "I don't... have any... 'exes'."

This makes the gears turn in your head. There's no way. "Like... you just didn't stay with any of them?" Even as hectic as his life has been, you cannot reconcile how tenderly he's holding you with him previously being a smash and dasher. It would make sense logistically- no danger of loss or being tied down and losing focus on his work, but… there’s just no way.

"No." He all but squirms. "I never used it before you."

"What?"

"I designed it for..." His voice cuts out as his vocoder fights him again. "...a particular omnic. To their model's... specifications. But I never used it."

You twist around in his arms, as much as he'd prefer you didn't. It's uncomfortable enough without having to see your face, without his still-not-put-away dick pressed between your bodies. "But... you told me you'd fucked before."

Around you, Ramattra bristles, his fans ramping up, his hands firming where they touch you. Too far, you did upset him. "Omnics do not need things as crude as genitals to be intimate."

The pieces come together. Not an ex, they'd been intimate, enough that he'd designed a dick just to hope, but never used it. He wanted more. You slide a hand around Ramattra's neck, over the dark plating his cowl usually hides. Normally, when you slide your fingers around the chunky cables of his mane, he'll purr or at least relax- no such luck. "Sorry," You murmur, and trace a finger along the long line of his jaw piece. "Thank you for telling me."

It takes a few moments, but eventually a soft stream of hot air slips from Ramattra's vents and he sighs. You take the cue and curl up close to him, wrapping your arms around him as best you can with his wide chest. When you think he's calmed enough, you do tack on one last comment. "I am glad you made it, though."

Thankfully, Ramattra laughs softly at that.

Ramattra holds white papers in his hand, carefully held between the rubber pads there, delicate as to not crease them before you can read them. His other hand twitches as his side, then balls into a fist. He does not meet your gaze when he enters his room. He stands there, just past the doorway, clenching and unclenching his fist, his fans slowly amping up.

"Rama?" You prompt him when he still doesn’t say anything, already scooting to the edge of his bed.

"I have to attend to the construction of a titan in person." It's flat, a statement, no particular inflection in his voice where you're clearly expecting something else. "I won't be able to return here for several weeks. At minimum."

Now it's you who looks away. It's a disappointment. You knew it was coming, three days together was already an incredible luxury. "Ah, I see." He's busy, you know this. Lots of hard work running an entire revolution almost by yourself. And you can't fault him for it- can't ask him to postpone. It's important work. "When will you have to leave?"

"Five hours. I'm also chartering transport of supplies. My omnium is short on copper wire, of all things." He says- and his focus shifts from the floor to the paper in his hands. He rubs it, watches as the paper flexes and bends, then returns to normal. You, too, observe his fidgeting and wait for the shoe to drop. You've always kind of waited for it.

"Are you- " He starts- and his synth immediately fizzles. The hand at his side tightens in frustration as he reboots it. "Are you pleased with... this?" The paper flops in his hand as he gestures vaguely between you.

This.

Never did have that conversation.

You bite your tongue, chance looking at him. None of the strain in his vocoder has made it to his faceplate, forever stuck in that passive, almost angry expression. "Yeah." If he wants to kick you out, that's fine, but you aren't going to lie about it. His visits to your base have easily become the best part of your job, the occasional message of where he is, of when he can make it back to you- it's completely different than anything you've had before. "Yeah, actually."

Ramattra's shoulders drop. "You are sure? Genuinely?"

You nod. And he holds out the paper. You don't even unfold it before he's explaining. "It's a reassignment order. Production of Null Troopers is increasing geometrically; ideally I would oversee all production lines directly from here on. It would be... advantageous to have someone else coordinate with Talon on my behalf while I am engaged with this.

"I will be very occupied. This is a critical period of staging. And I would be relying on you." Ramattra says, and there's a sternness laid over top. He wants it to sound like a job offer, to sound serious. It is, to some degree. But more than that-

"You..." The top of the paper is printed with Talon's logo, a big block of text follows, beneath is a signature line. Your eyes skim the page again- and read the most important line. Relocate to meet the needs of Null Sector. "You want me to come with you?"

A breath of silence takes the room, until he steps closer and takes one of your hands in his. So gently, he drags the rubber pad of his thumb over your knuckles. His faceplate focuses there, on the delicate bones of your hand, your wrist. "It would... please me greatly to keep you near."

The ache in your chest blooms out, spills over your cheeks.

#overwatch #ramattra #ramattra x you #Ramattra x Reader #overwatch x you #overwatch x reader #reader insert

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ya-zz · 1 year

Text

Fixed the Broken

Ramattra x reader(gen)

Word count: 3164 It's another 4am write up, I really should fix my sleep, but have another piece. Again, if it's not correct or there are errors, I may fix it when I next come across it... maybe

Also as I finish writing this, it's almost 7:30am. I may have wrote too much-

Ramattra had been sent out on a mission alongside a few of the other Overwatch soldiers. His expertise in close hand combat alongside his menacing demeanour often changed the course of a fight.

However, this wasn't like any other battle he had fought. His mind wandered to you before switching off.

Despite his hatred for humans, he became very fond of you. He couldn't quite place his robotic finger on it, but he felt comfortable around you, as if you had been friends for years.

After being picked up by Overwatch two years ago, you became the sole repair person for omnics and anything of the sort. While you did have some basic knowledge of self defence and could put up a fight if necessary, you were always stationed inside of your workshop mending the broken.

You had repeatedly repaired Zenyatta time and time again, however he got himself injured you could easily fix within the hour. His kind was something you had grown used to repairing, so much so you never needed the manual to fix anything after the first few repairs.

Ramattra, on the other hand, was one omnic you never had the pleasure of fixing, let alone working with. His kind was secured by multiple government walls, so even trying to get the blueprints was proving to be difficult.

Time and time again you had tried to get the documents, but nothing would budge in your favour. Even Reyes had tried, although a less legal way was used, but even he couldn't get zilch from the company who created Ramattra's kind.

The one time Ramattra came in, dragging his feet behind Zenyatta, he denied any form of help from a human, standing in the doorway as you stopped in your tracks and looked at the pair. Zenyatta managed to coax him into sitting down on the chair before you walked over and assessed the damage done on his faceplate.

With a sorrowful look, you told him things were going to be ok and that you were there to help. You didn't ask how his faceplate got cracked, instead you gently pried it off his head and got to work with fixing it.

He noted how soft your hands were against his cheeks before the cold air of the workshop hit his inner skeleton. The one thing Ramattra was grateful for was the ability to feel what humans do naturally. After modifying himself, he managed to do just that. A bit of coding and rewiring made him feel the cold, the heat and the touch of another.

It didn't take too long and Ramattra was out of there within the hour. A small thank you escaped from him before he left alongside his omnic brother.

All you could do was smile to yourself as you finally got chance to be around such a marvellous creation. Despite what you were told about him, you wanted to know more from him. He was that one of a kind omnic you never got the chance to talk to, let alone touch.

----

Athena urgently called for you to go to the ORCA arrival bay the very moment you had put some boxes down from a delivery of spare parts. You quickly put on a jacket before closing up the workshop temporarily and heading down. The air was still, almost heavy as you approached.

A few of the other cadets were anxiously waiting the arrival of the ORCA, Zenyatta nowhere to be seen.

"What's going on?" You asked, zipping your jacket up and wrapping your arms around yourself.

Reyes looked to you. "It was successful, but damages have been made."

You look back to the entrance, the sky a deep orange as the sun set below the horizon.

"What damages?"

Reyes didn't say anything.

You feared the worst.

The silence was tormenting you. Nobody spoke a word until the ORCA landed in the bay.

Holding your breath, your grip tightened on your sides.

One by one, members of the team got off the carrier. Bloody faces and bandages. They had been through hell.

Small words were exchanged, the majority of them heading to medical, others for a well earned shower.

Hanzo was the last to appear, hair loose over his shoulders, blood and oil coating his face.

You look at him, relieved he was ok, but your attention quickly shifted to his hands.

"Brother!" Zenyatta had appeared behind you, clearly distraught and pained by what he saw.

Hanzo was holding Ramattra's head, the lights were off. You took a step back.

Damages were made...

You looked at Reyes who was already looking at you.

"Listen kid, I'll do what I can about the documents-" he started, he saw your brow furrow but continued. "Think you can mend him in the meantime?"

"Mend him? He's..." You look back at what was left of Ramattra. A hand grabbed your arm making you turn.

"Please..." Zenyatta sounded in pain, as if he was trying not to cry. Despite his emotionless face, you could tell he was hurting the most.

"I'll try." That's all you could say and do. Try.

Hanzo walked with you to the workshop, the silence almost unbearable.

"I could only retrieve his head." He said, voice low.

"What about any data chips? Memory cards?" You asked, unlocking the door and entering the workshop.

"I am not sure. He was badly injured, his body crushed and torn apart. I fear the enemy was too great an opponent for him." Hanzo delicately placed the head on the closest workbench.

Looking at the archer, you wonder if you could actually do the impossible and bring Ramattra back. Your face showed concern and Hanzo picked up on it instantly.

"You have got this. I'll stop by in the evenings to give you food from the canteen. I know you will stay in here until he is complete."

You nod. He was right. When given a project, no matter how big or small, you see it through with very little break and this was one hell of a project. With no blueprints on how he works, you had to go off your intuition.

"He's lucky I had parts brought in for him recently, just in case... Didn't think I'd need them so soon. I think the first thing to do is to see if his chips are stored in that head of his..." You approach the workbench, looking down at the body-less omnic before you. "Thank you, Hanzo... I hope your recovery and everyone else's recovery is quick."

"You need not worry about me. My concern is with you. Please rest when your body needs it." His hand finds your shoulder, a warm touch to the cold space.

You smile at him before he leaves. You approach the door he just left out of and turn the light outside on, signally to not be disturbed. It was going to be on for awhile.

Ramattra's head stayed on the table as you checked over it and disassembled what you could. Luckily, the chips were stored in there and weren't broken, but you ran a test just to be sure.

When everything came back green a few minutes later, a sigh of relief escaped your lips.

One problem over, now it's time to build an omnic.

----

You couldn't count how many days you had been in the same room. Hanzo would remind you to rest whenever he stopped by with warm cooked food, his worry for you became greater with each day that passed.

Reyes had no luck in getting the blueprints, but by that point you were already working on his chest and arms. Wires were hanging out of the new body for Ramattra, waiting to be soldered into place. His head was facing you as you worked, a small reminder of what's at cost here.

Zenyatta never once stopped by. You would question Hanzo about him whenever you weren't focussed on repairs, but he could offer no response.

You had thought he couldn't come in because he knew what was going on. His brother was merely a shell at the moment. Empty.

----

There was a lot of trial and error in building him. Most of the time it was a miss-soldered wire or a loose bolt, however, you kept pulling through.

When you were attaching his pelvic plate, you looked back at his head and apologised. Even if he wasn't there, it still felt awkward.

You had no idea how many times you had been through the same playlist, listening to the same songs and singing along to them. Each day just merged with the next.

By the time the end of the second week had come around, you had accumulated around 50 hours of sleep and your body was slowly shutting down. The amount of caffeine you had consumed within that time was frightening. Hanzo even made Angela come in and check on you, demanding you to rest for at least a few days before continuing working.

Of course, being the persistent idiot you were, you ignored them and continued to work on Ramattra. He wasn't going to be like he was before and you knew this and you were ready to suffer whatever consequences he throws at you for not being able to fix him completely.

The end of the third week came by slowly and at that point you were a few final wires away from finishing his body and once they were in place, all you had to do was attach his head to it's rightful place.

You gently pick up his head and carry it over to the body, standing on a small step to reach his neck and attach everything to its rightful place.

A small hop down and you walk in front of him, looking up at the omnic in front of you. It was eerily quiet as your music stopped moments before.

"Please work. Please." You begged before heading over to the computer and directing a current to the omnic.

A small hiss and the lights on his forehead turned orange. They blinked a couple times before turning red and completely turning off.

You try again but the outcome was no different.

Heading over to a computer next to the omnic, you run a scan for any errors. A program you had built in your free time to detect any faulty wires or components.

Time remaining: 8 hours

You stare at the screen before the area around you becomes fuzzy. Hanzo walks in the moment you drop to the floor.

Your body completely crashed.

----

The light was bright above you as you came to. Hanzo was by your side as your stirred, placing a hand to your head.

"How are you feeling?" He asked.

"How long was I out?" You ignored his question to ask your own.

"Nearly a full day." He places a hand on your arm.

"Shit." You go to get up but Hanzo only stops you from moving forward.

"You need to rest."

"I need to fix Ramattra." You tried to get out of his grip.

"Take a break." Hanzo was much stronger than you were, holding you down easily.

"I can't."

"Yes you can."

"You have to rest." A female voice broke through, tone very much stern. "Doctors orders."

With a tone like that, you stop resisting, instead slumping back into the bed.

"Fine, but only until tomorrow." You try to bargain.

"No, not until I deem you healthy and fit to leave." Angela checked your blood pressure before writing it down. "Rest."

You sigh, staring up at the ceiling before your body drags you back into slumber.

----

You had no idea how much time had passed before Angela had let you go. Hanzo walked with you to the workshop to make sure you were truly ok before leaving you for a training session with Genji.

Upon entering, you are met with what you had left. Ramattra was still standing there with no power. Some dust had begun to settle on his chassis so you made quick and gentle work of brushing it off.

Checking the monitor, all tests had come back green. All was good. You direct the current through again.

Orange.

Red.

Switched off.

You screamed. Like actually screamed, throwing a piece of scrap metal at the wall.

"Three weeks of work for nothing!" Tears streamed down your face as you kept running the current but was getting nowhere. "Fuck, what the actual hell am I supposed to do..."

Omnics didn't come with an on button.

...

Wait...

You rummaged through the spare parts, a small piece rattled at the bottom of the box. Despite feeling somewhat relieved you missed something, you were utterly pissed off with yourself for actually missing something.

Pondering for a moment, you realised where this piece belongs. A small hole underneath his back plate, hidden among cables and wires.

Sonofabitch...

After about another hour of fucking about with everything in his back, you had the piece inserted and flipped up.

Reassembling his back, you head over to direct a current.

Orange.

Red.

Blue.

You could hear hissing which meant his fans were working. A small digital noise escaped from the omnic as his arms twitched, head tilting to the side.

You stand there, body frozen.

"Ramattra?"

His head tilts back up, now directly facing you.

Nothing was said for a moment. The two of you just staring at each other.

"I didn't think I'd get to see you again." Was the first thing he said.

"What?" Your cheeks grew warm.

"You fixed me. I owe you my life." He took a wobbly step forward.

"You don't owe me anything." You say.

"I do. For nearly a month you have worked on fixing me."

"How'd you know it was only a month?"

Ramattra sat down at the workbench, the same place he sat the first time he entered the shop.

"When you checked to see if there was any damage to my chips, you inadvertently set a small current off. I was able to see everything, hear everything."

"How-" You pause for a moment. Your cheeks grew warmer knowing exactly what he was talking about.

The omnic laughed. "I won't say anything." He reassured you. "I want to thank you for being so gentle with everything. You even apologised when you-"

"I get it! You heard it." You look away, embarrassed. "You should go see Zenyatta. I'm sure he'll be happy to see you with a body."

"I want to stay here for a little while. I have grown rather... fond of this place."

"It's nothing special." You try to dismiss him.

"[y/n]. I want to spend actual time with you." He stared at you, lights flickering on his forehead.

You stare wide eyed. "I thought you hated humans."

"You are an exception. A rather great exception. I can tolerate the others for now."

"Mhm." You nod, taking a seat across from Ramattra.

"To be honest, you were the last thing I thought of when I shut down." He said, his tone was almost quiet.

"Why? I'm nothing special."

"You may not think that, but you have done wonders for omnics like me and my brother. You show me that there are good humans among the filth. I believe that is what Zenyatta was trying to tell me."

He gained a laugh from you.

"[y/n]."

"Ramattra?"

"Thank you." He took a hold of your hand that was resting on the table. "You even fixed my touch processors." He sounded shocked at this.

"Yeah... Zenyatta mentioned it was something you had worked on. I tried, so if it doesn't work as it should, feel free to fix it to your liking."

"Thank you." He repeated. "Can I possibly take you to the canteen to get some dinner? You hardly ate a thing when you were working on me."

"Are you asking me out on a date?" You grin, cheeks flushed.

"What if I am?"

"Yes. Yes you can." There was a sparkle in your eyes that Ramattra noticed instantly. If he could smile, he would. Your hand was warm as he held it, not wanting to let it go. That same warmth circled through his chassis whenever he looked at you.

Ramattra, dare he say, had fallen for a human. Each day you were fixing him, he grew more and more attached. He noticed how you moved, how you stretched, the gentle touch of putting things together and the concentration on your face when you worked on circuitry on the bench. For nearly a month he had been watching you without you even knowing. He knew things that he figured not many of the others knew. He admired your persistence and determination, yet that scream you let out shook him. He may have feared you were giving up.

Yet you didn't. You didn't give up on him.

He wanted to be with you, not as a way to say thank you, but because he had genuinely fallen for you.

Memory: Repair log, day 10:

"Despite you being a pain in the ass sometimes, you're alright. Fuck, you should've seen how heartbroken Zen was. It hurt me too, you know. If this doesn't work, I will never forgive myself. I don't think Zen will ever get over it either... If you're listening, Ramattra, please wake up... I don't think you understand that you have people here who actually want you back, and not for your strength. I'll miss you if this don't work. I'll miss seeing that damn face of yours and your snarky comments." You laugh. "You always made me smile. Even that day you came in with Zen. You didn't see but when you left I was super happy you trusted me. It was the very first time you let a human touch you. I heard from your brother you hadn't even let any other human touch you before I did...

Hey, Ramattra... you're welcome here anytime. Even if it's just to talk."

There was a small pause.

"Fuck," you laugh, "I can't be falling for you... we hardly know each other."

"It's not so wrong is it? A human falling for an omnic? Would you even feel the same? I don't know."

"Oh shit, where the fuck did I put it?"

"Ramattra. I think I'm in love with you yet I hardly know you. It's crazy that it can happen like that... I'm probably going crazy."

"Fuck."

"Ow."

"You'll be done soon, I can feel it."

You rested your head on the desk, eyes slowly closing and pulling you to sleep. "I love you... Ramattra..."

----

An omnic in love with a human. A human in love with an omnic... It wasn't unheard of, he just believed it would never happen to him, especially with how things turned out with his last mission.

He would run that memory log over and over again.

"I love you... Ramattra..."

"I love you too... [y/n]..."

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