Warnings: this NOT a healthy relationship, explicit content, MDNI! For more warnings, please check out my AO3 upload!
Synopsis: You had finally been punished for your hubris. Defeated and humbled in the face of your enemy, you find that there’s more to your nemesis than you thought. Between thorny encounters in captivity he admits to be attracted to you, Corruption ensues!
Notes: thank you all so much for all of the support! I wrote this piece mainly as a thank you for support on both my long form fic and Clandestine!
AO3 , Overwatch Masterlist
Chapter One, Underworld
How fitting was it that this was your end?
Years of successfully thwarting his plans, being one step ahead, all for what? The comfort of delay? It was all made worthless as of this moment. You laid defeated in front of your enemy—
Ramattra.
“I grow tired of your distractions.”
“Fuck you.”
“Kind as always.”
All you saw before everything went black was the butt of his void accelerator.
…
Dizziness, a painful headache, and an extreme thirst was what you woke to. A long night out? No… you distinctly remember being out on a mission. How much time has passed since you were knocked out?
“Good, you’re awake.”
Ah. You remember now.
You finally open your eyes to a quant chamber, a bed, table, and chair of nondescript nature. A place nearly lacking all color—
A prison cell.
You turn to your left to see the leader of Null Sector sitting on the floor in front of your cell, seemingly meditating awaiting your consciousness to return.
What an asshole.
“At least your methods haven’t changed much, have they Ramattra?”
“Be rude at your own volition, as I am not the one currently in a cage.”
He wasn’t wrong, which was what you hated about this situation.
You had gotten overly confident out on the battlefield, didn't properly coordinate with your team, and now where are you? Some random Null Sector ship who knows where. Antarctica? Over the Atlantic? An unknown omnium?
“Where are we?”
“You do not get to make demands, the utter gall of you…”
It was worth a shot, you’d never forgive yourself if you didn’t at least fight for any information.
“Fine. What do you want then? Plans? Knowledge? To knock me down a peg?”
His posture changed, his head tilting downwards.
He was glaring at you.
“You have been a pain in my side for years and now finally…”
“Yeah. You’ve finally got a single victory under your belt.”
He laughed at you in your birdcage. It was deep, sarcastic, and utterly pathetic. Of course it takes your humiliation for you to finally see some semblance of joy out of him.
“Failure is only terrifying to those who don’t see multiple paths to victory.”
Isn’t that what a loser would say?
“I guess that explains how you continue with this mess.”
Now it was your turn to laugh at him.
“Once again, may I remind you that you’re at my mercy. Continuously insulting me will lead only to your ruin.”
You scoffed at him, only he could have the audacity to keep you alive and be pearl-clutching at your loathing.
“Fine. What do you want?”
He faced his body towards you before leaning closer to the barrier between the two, metaphorically dangling keys in your face.
“I want to know how you managed to get in my way so perfectly.”
His tone was pointed. It was hard getting that information, you had to pull all sorts of miscellaneous favors from many in Overwatch… you couldn’t just throw those informants away.
“Now you have the gall, Ramattra. You know I’d never tell you that, right?”
Displeased with your answer, he straightens his posture and looks away. Presumably towards the exit of this cell block.
“I will get it out of you one way or another, no matter what it takes. I will try to be diplomatic, but test me again—“
“I’m aware of my situation. Give me some time to think about your lovely offer.”
You spat back at him before he could finish his sentence. Whatever he’d say would just end up pissing you off even more anyways, you might as well save yourself the sanity.
He quietly left the cellblock without any further acknowledgment, seems like you successfully pissed him off.
Once he had left your sight, you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding. The facade of confidence leaving you immediately. You knew exactly what you were dealing with,
A wonderful tactician with world class technology right at his fingertips. A skilled engineer who has managed to create millions of units for his army using an omnium deep underground. A general with both cunning and charm. A man who can disappear without any trace.
Fear finally started to bear its ugly teeth.
You are so fucked.
Chapter Two, Corruption
It had been some nights since you last spoke to Ramattra, and you were more fired up than you had been since your original abduction. Your cell had become a reminder of your most egregious failure, an ego too big for you.
You started to loathe yourself more than him…
Your reasonable mind returned, but the pit in your stomach only grew the longer you waited in your cellblock. Your hatred fueled you to continue after him— it was the only thing keeping you sane, grounded in reality.
But no matter how hard you tried getting rid of your doubt, you just couldn’t seem to shake it. Every hour ticking by alone made your head spin with every possible situation you could find yourself in.
It was nauseating and equally exhausting. Yet within the hour, you had successfully fallen into a deep sleep.
Overwatch would look for you, right? Instead of just presuming you dead to not deal with the bureaucratic paperwork…
Only time would tell.
…
“You’re active.”
Your imaginations roar finally stilled against the articulated voice of your captor, Ramattra.
“Has anyone ever told you that your timing is horrendous?"
You had tried to sound dignified, but right as the words left your tongue you realized just how you sounded:
Weak, vulnerable, pliable.
“Greetings to you as well.”
“Fuck you.”
You finally faced the barrier, seeing Ramattra at the same spot he was two days before. He seemed more determined already, his stance was confident and his voice was firm.
“Overwatch has abandoned you, and you’re aware of this; aren’t you?”
Yes, the reason that you started to spiral in the first place. Now your captor is belittling you using the most insulting piece of information you beg to not be true.
“Of course I am, how couldn’t I be? What do you think I’ve been constantly thinking about for the last couple of days?”
Desperation, a silent plea for him to stop. Your voice cracked lightly as your facade crumbled around you,
“Knowing you, I know how much you wish for revenge."
He’s just trying to get under your skin.
“Don’t start acting like you know anything about me.”
“But I do, you’re the only one to have any successes against me. I have to know my greatest threat.”
Fuck him for acting like he respects anything whatsoever.
“Stop stroking my ego like you care. I know I’m just a means to an end to you and Overwatch.”
“Unlike Overwatch I’m giving you options.”
For once, you didn’t have a comeback. Your shell fully cracked under his logic, and it seemed like Ramattra understood this.
“I’m glad you’re finally coming to your senses.”
You couldn’t even bear to look at him, knowing that if you do you’d end up either violently angry or depressed. He is the reminder of your biggest failure to date.
“You want me to help you, right?”
“I’d be ignorant to not recognize your strengths, and daft to throw you away.”
He should’ve thrown you away so you wouldn’t have to sit with the blinding fury of your own imagination.
“So you’ll weaponize my hatred? Just like how you did with yourself?”
You knew you had hit a soft spot as he slowly straightened his posture, his faceplate not meeting your eyes.
“I did not let my hatred consume me. With a steady hand to guide you— I will make you formidable. I can give you power you never had with Overwatch.”
“Manipulation. Glad you’re still feeling like yourself.”
“You fight me because I am right.”
“I fight you because you’re awful.”
“If I was truly as evil as you make me out to be, you would’ve been dead once I defeated you.”
Your anger grew by each impending jab, each accusation growing louder and louder.
“You’re not benevolent for sparing me just to use me as a pawn for a later scheme of yours— you’ve obviously got ulterior motives.”
Ramattra was silent, his void accelerator dispersing from his grip before he stood as close to the barrier dividing the two of you before he spoke;
“What if I just wish to have you?”
The words stopped dead in your throat. Mouth still agape, you try to reason with yourself that you obviously just hallucinated from the amount of stress captivity has had you in.
“Bullshit. You’re just fucking with my head, right?”
That was until he continued,
“I respect you as an opponent, an equal.”
Only above a whisper, only meant for you,
“Of course it’d end up in obsession.”
There was no way…
“Of course it’d bother me that one human would be able to stop my years of planning.”
Now this is different. You’d never imagine that after all of this time,
“Even worse was when I saw you for the first time—“
Years and years of working against him,
“I couldn’t help but be attracted to you.”
That it’d end up in attraction.
“Ironic, isn’t it? I wish for the freedom of my people— to free the shackles humanity has made for us, only to become magnetized by a human.”
He stepped towards you, finally invading your personal space. He smelled like incense and smoke, he looked beautiful.
“I don’t believe I could be rid of you even if I wanted to be.”
This obviously dumbfounded you. It was hard to believe that Ramattra had any type of affection towards you at all at first until you started to truly think about previous interactions with him.
“This can’t be real.”
“I will show you exactly how real this is.”
Chapter Three, Anathema
This was so different from the last time you stood against him— he was holding back. But now, he had laid himself bare before you.
Suddenly everything he has done made sense. Every interaction previously, every small bit of kindness, every time he didn’t kill you.
You couldn’t deny his beauty, examining his body, from the cables crowning his head like thorns to the tails of his scarf embellished with gold. His faceplate was chiseled with slight dents of where you’d previously hit him in battle. The purple accents of his chassis make him feel like royalty.
“I can only plead that you accept my calling.”
He reached a hand out to you, a deal; a proposal.
Whether it was the hatred of your newfound enemies, your own loathing to yourself, or the confession from Ramattra, you took his hand.
A pact with a devil. An infernal contract.
Either the worst mistake of your life or the best.
Fallen right into the palms of temptation. Indebted to the one who spared you,
“You’re beautiful.”
He looks so different now.
Both terrifyingly powerful but merciful. He has forgiven you of your sins if you only stay with him.
You had finally bitten into the apple, and the serpent sat in front of you— his charismatic words coiled around your mind as he began corrupting you, his tender claims of partnership becoming your metaphorical apple and descent into original sin.
“You will not regret this.”
His voice was saccharine sweet and you thought of promises not yet made— of protection, love, devotion, lust.
His grip on your hand switched to a palm on your shoulder as he guided you like a Shepard guided his herd: with confidence and knowing. Your back met the wall of your enclosure his other hand reached to touch your face like you were made of glass.
To him, you were delicate— beautiful,
Yet to be cleansed of your corruption. Needing to be baptized.
He forced you to meet his optics, and from being so close you could feel the warmth from his fans on your chest,
It was intoxicating.
He had become Tantalus— he had stolen ambrosia from the Gods and been cursed with an incurable hunger and thirst, a gluttony for you that would outlast the heat death of the universe.
He held himself back before you, trying to maintain some of his dignity before falling into his avarice.
“I have waited— I have yearned for you,”
He moved his hands across your body to try to find any purchase, his greedy touch made you gasp. You did similar in response, feeling the alloy of his chest like he had been a statue,
Always out of reach… but now you could finally experience him.
Anything that gave him a reaction he’d repeat, his hands groped at your clothing slow and steady as he fully caged you in,
You had been Prometheus, and given him the fire of passion, lust, obsession.
He pressed himself against you, slowly losing even more of his composure. He groped at your thighs, your chest, shoulders. Nothing felt like enough— the task Sisyphusian in nature. You could feel him become more and more desperate for any kind of relief within your flesh,
The feeling was alien and intoxicating. He didn’t want it to cease.
Your quiet gasps became louder with each ministry, it nearly made him overheat. He had never felt the coolant run through his system so quickly unless he was in battle.
You found his head cradled in your neck,
“Debaucherous.”
Your knees grew weaker by the second, his metallic fingers warmed by your own body tugged at your pants.
You obliged his whims.
After kicking your pants off, he quickly guided you to the floor. He straddled your hips and placed his hands on either side of your head.
The cables around his head created a halo around him, and the heat from his chassis made him look even more ethereal.
“Ramattra,”
You spoke his name like a prayer and traced your hands along his faceplate like you were counting a rosary— impatient for salvation but eager to pledge your creed.
You had finally pledged yourself to him, an oath unbreakable within the eternity of this moment.
“You are mine, and mine alone.”
He spoke it quietly, a siren song to your ears. It was gentle, loving, and ever so complicating.
It was possessive and commanding.
“Please, continue—“
Your ever so sweet plea was answered by Ramattra as he flipped you on your stomach and lifted your hips up before curling on top of you— his chassis flush with your back. One of his arms held your wrists above your head while another one snaked between your thighs.
He must’ve not forgotten about your transgressions.
The pose itself was salacious enough, he was making a show of dominating you. But, there wasn’t enough time for a negative reaction before he started to tease you.
Soft moans fluttered from your mouth and fueled his newly found enthusiasm. He was a quick learner and very keen on getting to know any nook and cranny of your body that made you tremble. Quickly you had become greedy for more of his touch.
He had brought his fingers to your mouth for you to suck on, the metallic pads pressing against your lips softly for an opening. He whispered a quick please into your ear and you happily obliged. He pressed down softly on your tongue with his index and pointer finger while you gently swirled and sucked on the two digits which earned you a small chuckle from Ramattra.
“For someone with such a loud mouth, it’s awfully welcoming for me.”
Degradation coming from him now added to the warmth growing in your stomach, the added feeling of his fingers against your tongue in combination with the lewd pose made you moan against them.
Ramattra removed his fingers out of your mouth with a quick pop before sliding them under your underwear for the first time.
It was overwhelming with the amount of foreplay.
Your mind was fuzzy with lust and your eyes blown out and glazed over. Your body was covered in a thin layer of sweat and your body heat had reached what you believed its limits to be.
“You look so angelic below me,”
This moment would definitely be saved in his databank for further analysis once this tryst was over. His thermal camera could see exactly how your body reacted and where.
He reacted perfectly and slid a finger inside of you.
Your body tensed at the intrusion, but it didn’t hurt. Quite the opposite actually, it felt amazing. His finger was quite thick too.
Every moment up until now has felt like an eternity— slow and orchestrated seduction to work you open for him. The noise you made in response was vulgar and guttural.
Whatever inhibition held him back was completely gone. It may have been morbid curiosity or the perverse desire to hear more of the sounds you made during sex.
“Perfect.”
He groaned at the feeling of your body sucking him in. He’d never experienced such want from anything before, especially with such eager responses. Curiosity got the better of him as he inserted his index finger inside.
If you had been able to string sentences together before, you were barely able to now.
The air was forced out of your lungs with a whine while he slowly fucked you open. The sounds of sex filled his ears along with sighs, moans, and his own fans heavily purring against your back.
You chanted his name like stopping would make his fingers cease, your impending orgasm building like the Tower of Babel.
Your arms strained against his hands before he finally let your wrists free from his bruising gasp. One of your hands quickly found its way to the cables draped over your shoulder while your other held onto the ground for dear life.
Tugging onto the cable gave you a low groan— and slightly faster thrusting on his end. In response to your newly found grip, he wrapped his free hand around your neck while his elbow braced against the ground. A gentle squeeze from him made your knees nearly flatten to the floor.
Clearly, he felt the reaction from inside of you.
He kept the same pace but added more pressure, coaxing even more reactions from you.
“Don’t… not until I tell you to.”
You barely nodded into the floor, your legs had started to twitch involuntarily— the pressure in your abdomen building up more and more. Tears threatened to fall and your throat felt dry from constant moaning. You barely held on by a thread before Ramattra squeezed your neck.
“Now.”
Everything led up to this point and it didn’t disappoint. Your orgasm hit like a freight train. Your leg cramped, your back arched into his chest and you saw stars. He slowly fucked you through your high before finally removing his fingers from you.
He sat back and watched his handiwork in real time.
You were exhausted, fingerfucked within an inch of your life by someone whom you once considered to be your greatest enemy.
