ramattra x virgin reader ok? ok ❤️
Warnings: smut, little angst, fingering, thigh grinding, praise if you squint
A/n: im sorry this took forever. im so sorry i literally cannot write Ramattra with a dick like he has to just finger u💔
It didn’t happen the way you thought it would. Maybe some soft candles, a cool breeze, and talked about it beforehand with your boyfriend.
It wasn’t even meant to happen tonight.
But some things are meant to be unplanned you realized.
One moment you were laid across Ramattras lap, legs dangling over his thigh as you talked, the next moment his hand was gently holding your hips down as he moved his long metal fingers back and forth in your wet cunt.
It started when the sun had long lowered, stars danced across the sky in a way that made everything feel a lot lighter.
You and Ramattra sat out here sometimes just watching the sky, something he picked up from his time at the monastery. His fans whirled softly and the crickets buzzed. His metal was cool to the touch and it helped ease the heat of the summer night.
“It’s so peaceful.” You mumbled, eyes half lidded. Your mind was blissfully blank.
Ramattra agreed, though he did not say much. He never needed to force himself with you— he liked that.
His face was tilted up toward the sky, but once you moved to sit up he tilted his faceplate to look at you in question.
“Are you uncomfortable?” He had ended up asking. Most out of curiosity, but also that tiny feeling that maybe you did not like laying on him anymore.
You smiled and looked back toward him once you sat beside him cross legged. “No, but I wanted to sit up.”
He would never admit out loud he was glad for that.
He nodded. He didn’t really understand how things felt for humans, but he did try his best to understand how things felt for you.
You reached for his hand out of instinct as you leaned your head against him. His metal fingers intertwined with yours with no hesitation.
You and Ramattra had never spoken about intimacy. You knew how for him things were different, and you would never want to do anything he didn’t want to.
His other hand— the one that didn’t have your own in his grasp— moved to your thigh without warning. Chills ran along your entire body as he softly brushed off a leaf that had fallen on you. Then his hand stayed, rubbing soft circles on your inner thigh.
Ramattra was not an idiot, but then again how was he supposed to know he brushed the sensitive part of your thigh, right near your core.
How was he supposed to know he looked so good, his large hand in your grasp, his slender fingers right near your sweet spot?
He was an omnic, it didn’t even cross his processors yet.
“Are you alright?” He tilted his faceplate to look at you as you tensed. Of course he noticed immediately.
You swallowed. “Yeah, sorry I just got a little cold.” It came out before you could think of a proper alibi to cover up your human reactions.
“Do not worry, I will warm you up. Humans are so fragile.” The next moment you’re pulled into his lap, legs on either side of his right thigh, like he didn’t even think about how this looked or felt.
His cool metal pressed right against your core, his hands planted on your waist. Your mouth went dry at the contact.
You couldn’t— he was an omnic, you knew of his trauma from the crisis. It was unfair to him. It would only pleasure you. It’s selfish.
Even with that thought your pussy throbbed. He was so big around your thigh. Your gaze dipped to his hands resting against your hips and the sight did something deep in your core.
His processors worked fast, calculating your body temperature and the tense of your thighs and within a few seconds, it clicked.
He turned you on by accident.
You and Ramattra had been dating a long time, years in fact, and it was never brought up.
How long would you have gone if he hadn’t done that?
How long would he have foolishly ignored your human needs?
He can see the shame in your eyes, the soft pink in your cheeks as the embarrassment crawls up your spine.
“I’m sorry— I feel sick. I'm gonna go inside.” It comes out awkward, and he already knows it’s a coverup.
When you try to move to stand up to get away from the embarrassment, his hands have locked into place on you, not allowing you to leave.
“Ram-.” You get ready to protest.
His faceplate lowers slightly as he studies you.
“You are lying to me.” It’s slightly staticy, but still deep and robotic.
“Why did you not tell me, human?” The name slips out, a habit he had never bothered to fix.
You swallow thickly. Should you really be honest? The shame is enough to make you want to crawl in a hole. He’s an omnic, it isn’t his job to—
His hands pull your hips forward once, an invitation. “I believe I asked you a question.”
A shudder runs through you, and your panties are wet with your own slick already. Your eyes flutter shut. God, he’s making this incredibly hard.
His hands move again, setting an unbearably slow drag against his leg. You don’t fight it. The pleasure is too blinding for someone who’s never felt such a thing.
“I didn’t wanna bother you.” You mumble out in half shame, half pleasure. “I’ve never—.” You don’t finish it.
Then his hands still and you almost whine at the loss of friction. Your eyes open, bottom lip caught between your teeth in need.
And for Ramattra— he’d never seen this look on you. The pout of your lips, the sweat dripping down your collarbone and the way your hips rocked slightly like you didn’t even realize you were doing it.
His fans picked up, trying to cool down his inner workings. Then the feeling near his circuits— almost like anticipation but more hot and deeper in his wires than anything he’s felt.
“I do not wish for you to leave.”
You blink slowly. This was… unexpected.
Then you frown. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything.” It comes out more honest than you’re willing to admit.
He tilts his head, fingers brushing your hipbone once. “If I did not want to please you, I would not be allowing it.”
It takes a painful three seconds before it clicks. He wants to. He wants to do all the same things you do. And the relief washes over you.
The next few moments are a blur as you grind helplessly with the movement of his hands. You feel his chassis warm up— his fans becoming a soft hum. His eyes were set solely on you.
“Please, Ramattra.” You gasp out, hands bunched in the fabric of the shawl around his neck now. The pleasure is so good that shame isn’t a thing anymore.
“What would you like me to do?” He murmurs.
You don’t know. Everything is too hot and stuffy and his body is so big. You’re a virgin— you’ve never even done anything like this.
Truthfully, you were nervous.
You pause, hands still hunched in his shawl. “I-.” You swallow. “I don’t really know.”
You blush. Damn he’s blunt. But then you realize his tone. It isn’t mocking or insulting, he’s just simply stating a fact.
You nod. ”I’ve never… done anything like this.”
Ramattra's thumb rubs slightly on your hipbone again. “Do not be ashamed. I am not updated on this information either.”
You smile at his tone. It’s obvious he’s just trying to make you feel better. You slip your hand away and grab the back of his hand.
“I think I want you here.” You place the tips of his fingers right on your clothed pussy.
He stills for a moment, unsure exactly how to please you, but then you slowly move his fingers in small circles.
“Like this.” You demonstrate. The feeling was immediate, rubbing right where you were aching with need.
It’s clear he’s learning with you, it’s too hard for a second before he corrects himself. He’s watching your eyes and sounds, figuring out how you like it.
Ramattra never thought he’d be touching a human in his way, but then again he never thought he’d fall in love with a human either.
His other hand dragged up your side, feeling the softness of your skin. You grinded against his fingers helplessly.
He loved every second of it.
Every soft gasp of air. Every grind against his fingers. Every time your eyes opened and you looked at him with wide glossy eyes.
“Please.” You aren’t sure what you're asking for, but it doesn’t matter, not when his fingers are pressing perfectly on your clothed clit like that.
“Use your words. What do you want me to do, human?” The name made your pussy throb desperately.
“I need you inside me— please.” The next few moments your skirt was bunched up at your waist, panties pulled aside. You moved his fingers and softly pressed them against your bare clit. You suck in a breath.
“Here.” You then slid his fingers down your folds and slowly pushed one in.
It was warm and wet— the first thing Ramattra noticed as one finger slid in. He watched your face carefully. How you winced for a second but then relaxed, knuckles slowly unbunching from his shawl.
He started carefully, slowly pulling his finger back and forth, but before long you were grinding into his palm, your own wetness coating his metal fingers.
“More.” You moaned, arms wrapped around his neck. Your face was buried in the fabric around him.
He’d never seen you so… unraveled. Your breathing was erratic, panting and moaning in a way he never thought about. But god, did it make him want more.
Ramattra let out a pleased hum when your soaking cunt clenched around his fingers as he added another, like he was always meant to be knuckles deep in you.
Your head fell forward, forehead resting against his chest as you babbled pleas to the ravager.
Every deep drag of his fingers pulled out sounds you didn’t know you could make. You whimpered when his other hand reached up and cupped your jaw, forcing you to look at him.
“You’re doing so well, human.” He murmured, finger dragging over your lips.
That was your breaking point.
Every push into you felt like you were on fire, and then everything burst before you could even realize you were about to come. You felt tears prickle the corners of your eyes as you let out sharp gasp, then a choked moan as it crashed over you.
His fingers didn’t stop as you rode out of your orgasm in waves. And you didn’t stop moaning his name and looking into his eyes till you had to move off his fingers.
Your legs felt like jelly, and he moved to where you laid across his lap like before, but this time you were sweaty and fuzzy and he looked at you with something deeper than he’d ever be willing to admit.
You peaked open your eyes. “You didn’t have to, y’know.”
“I wanted to.” He replied.
You smiled softly. You were glad it didn’t happen planned or after dinner or something basic. You were glad it was in yours in his spot— where the stars felt closer than ever and the wind seeped into your bones and plucked out the tension.
You were glad it was him.
