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korpuskat · 6 months ago

Text

Worth

[Ao3 Mirror] Pairing: Ramattra/Reader (GN, has a vagina) Rating: E WC: 1.7k Warnings: Self Image Issues =

Happy one year anniversary to me writing for Ramattra!

“A year…” You murmur, tracing along the sharp angles of white. Even sitting in his lap, you have to look up at him, raise your arms up to touch his faceplate. “I can’t believe it’s been a year.”

In turn, his fingertips run along your cheeks, mimicking the motion and returning all of the adoration. “I know. I am… frequently in disbelief that you are here at all.” His synth is toned down, as close to a whisper as he can get.

“That I’m here?” You sputter, stroke one ribbon cable away from his shoulder. “Ramattra, I never understand why you’re here. You-” You laugh at the incredibility of it all; “you’re a leader, a hero. I’m nobody, I don’t-”

“Stop.” His hands on your face stills, turns firm against your jaw. Embarrassment heats your cheeks. “You don’t…” He starts, voice harsh- before his vents click open, releasing a quiet burst of steam as he self-regulates. “You cannot fathom why I choose to be with you?”

You can't meet his gaze. The embarrassment of having admitted it burns as badly as the fact itself that you don't feel worthy of him. You want to brush it off, to pretend you hadn't revealed a crushing vulnerability, but you can't will your lips to move, to lie to him.

Ramattra’s hands skim over your shoulders, down until they settle on your hips. “I am… truly sorry if I have not made you understand.” His thumb dips lower, slides along the crease between your thigh and hip. “May I show you?”

You shiver at his touch, but still you can’t bring yourself to look at him. Deep-rooted shame won’t let you even entertain the thought, so you deflect: “You don’t have to, Rama’, it’s okay, really-”

“But I want to.” He asserts.

Even though you do want his touch- will always want it no matter your thoughts on your worth- it’s difficult to allow yourself. But when he wants to… It’s hard to argue with that… because it would be selfish to say no, right? So carefully, quietly you swallow as much of your apprehension as you can and nod.

Ramattra’s hands shift under your immediately, lifting you, picking you up as though you weighed nothing and pulling you forward while he simultaneously drops onto the bed. His weight makes him bounce softly, but through it all he moves your entire body effortlessly, repositioning you how he likes. And how he likes is depositing you directly on his faceplate.

The view instantly makes you blush- only gets worse as Ramattra’s hands resettle your hips until the hard line of his chin is pressed firmly against your clothed sex. It’s obscene; all you can see of him is the upper half of his faceplate and the cables of his hair that have fanned out around him. You stare into the dark slits that hide his optics and tremble with nervous energy, waiting for an explanation. If Ramattra had a mouth- which you’re fairly sure he doesn’t- his intentions would be obvious. But he doesn't and you're with him holding you against solid metal.

“Tell me,” His vocoder clicks on. His voice is soft, cautious- but the effect is immediate. You gasp, clutch at his hands as his head vibrates between your thighs. Your sudden jolting makes him laugh, the vibrations wavering in time with his ha ha ha, then returns to an even pace as he continues, “I suppose it works, yes?”

As he stops talking, the vocoder clicks off, returning to stillness. You pant, “What… How did you even think of this…?”

“You told me.” Again the plates of his face transmit his voice, purring more confidently now. “You would laugh and say you liked it when I spoke while you kissed me. That you could feel my voice buzzzzZZZing.” The emphasis makes you gasp, squirming against him for more.

“Rama-”

“Shhhh,” He intones and you whine, holding ever harder onto his hands. The cadence of his voice slows, lingering over syllables just to tease you, meandering through towards his point and with it the vibrations against your pussy do the same: “I want you… to consider exactly… where you are right now… exactly what I am doing to you.”

You whimper pitifully, grinding your hips onto the smooth surface of his face to return to the pleasant vibrations of before. But you do obey, peaking your eyes open again to take in the sight of him. He’s gorgeous, dark hair splayed out over the sheets, offset by the bright titanium white of his faceplate, the burning reds of his array. If it were anyone else, perhaps you feel like you’re supposed to be the one in power here, but the grasp he’s keeping over your hips and his cool, unaffected voice buzzing right against your clit keep it very clear. You're here because he wants you to be.

“Do you think I would allow nobody to do this, hmmm?” His vocoder never clicks off, hushing down to a quiet rumble, humming in his throat just to keep it on. Shame makes you duck your head, the implicit praise already too much with the insistence of his voice box purring relentlessly. And distracted as you are, you don’t even realize he moves- one large palm catching both your wrists. The other slides up, under your shirt and immediately tweaks a nipple. You yelp from the pressure- just a touch too sharp to be entirely pleasurable- and Ramattra’s voice raises up again, “That wasn’t rhetorical.”

“No!” Without his hands at your thighs, your hips move in longer strokes, rutting against the inseam of your pants.

His hand at your chest relaxes, spreads out to massage rather than pinch. “No, what?”

You whimper, squeeze your eyes closed. You can’t say it, can’t admit it yourself- and Ramattra’s hands shift, sliding back down to your hips. No longer keeping you pinned against him, he lifts you up to your knees- and for a moment your heart drops in the cold fear of disappointing him.

He tips his head towards the button of your pants. “Take those off.” You don’t move, head swimming in the whiplash of emotions, of praise and self-doubt. But when he speaks again you all but melt, haphazardly undoing the clasps with shaking hands. “I want to feel you.”

The air is cool on your heated skin, but still not as cold as his faceplate. Even with such proximity to his main processors, the outermost layers of his armor are still chilly- makes your hips flinch as you lower yourself back down onto him. Your body soon heats him- even faster as you blush at the obscenity of your bare pussy settling onto the pristine lines of his plates.

“Comfortable?” Ramattra purrs, voice quiet and testing.

You shudder and gasp; without the muffling layers of your clothes it’s so much sharper, radiating more into your thighs. You nod, but adjust slightly, shifting, spreading your lips until your clit presses to his hard metal.

“There are so few things I truly envy in humans,” His voice rumbles softly, but directly against where you need it most. You shiver and grasp blindly below you, burying both hands in his thick, cabled hair as though you could pull him any closer. Even with his voice still lowered, it’s so intense you can’t quite process what he’s said at all until he continues: “That I cannot taste you is high on that list.”

You shiver, buck your hips against his smooth metal faceplate. Already you've made him slick enough for your pussy to glide against him without any resistance. And this only makes him purr. A soft vibration that draws a moan from your lips, a stutter in your hips.

“You're perfect.“ He says, and despite the direct feedback against your clit, you still pinch your brows, turn away from the praise. But he doesn't let you run. He reaches up and draws your chin back towards him with one cool hand. “No one is as important to me as you are.” He holds the noise, a rough rumble that makes your thighs shake and clench around him.

You bite your lip, want to deflect-- but he beats you to it.

“Shhh,” Louder now, forcefully buzzing- “No one.” He doesn't speak, only hums a smoother, consistent vibration that makes you gasp, rubbing your pussy against his face and grabbing his arm, his head for any support. And he doesn't stop. He holds that same note, makes it easy for your hips to chase that sensation, rutting against him as the heat inside you rises.

“Rama,”

His hands are on you again, sliding down to hold your hips in place, to pull you ever closer- the smooth rumble stops as he speaks again.

“Go on. Show me again how gorgeous you are. Cum for me, just like this.” He purrs again, his voice vibrating right into your clit- and with his hands on your hips you have nowhere to go, no way to escape the incessant rumbling. Pressed so firmly against him, all you can do is shiver and gasp and tug on his cable locs.

The pull surprises him- and he moans. It's all it takes, his own pleasured noises turned to vibrations make you tumble over the edge, grinding onto his face as much as his hands will let you as he purrs his satisfaction. He holds you there, keeps rumbling away until your twitchy aftershocks fade and you begin to slump down, spent and boneless.

He lifts you off himself, adjusting your limp body until you can lay on his chest. You stay there, listening to the soft hum of his internals, his fans spinning heat away from his processors, the vents on his shoulders finally opening to cycle in fresh air.

“Thank you,” You murmur after a while, sneaking a small kiss against the rib-like armored bands on his chest.

He waits a moment, before sighing and stroking your back softly. “It hurts me that your self image is so poor.“

Guilt pierces the afterglow. ”I know.“

Ramattra catches your mood shift instantly. He draws your chin up again, to meet his gaze. Instead you're faced with the cooling, shiny mess you've left on his chin, the proof of his devotion. ”The next time you have such thoughts, tell me immediately. I will correct them.“

The implication makes your cheeks heat again. ”What if I keep having them, what if they don't stop?“

His fingers shift, running his thumb along your lips. “Then I will keep correcting them until they do.”

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