I feel if this small female can distract me from my research for so long, anything can. Have I grown weak? I wont grow soft. I must stay on track. Staying to my original plan would not only help me but put me at a benefit. So why is it so intriguing to me.... the way her eyes batter with innocence is pathetic, but it throws me off. The way she fears me, the way her lips stutter, it makes me want to rip off her shirt and kiss her up and down. I wont let her escape, when I ask myself why Im more bothered by the fact she has the freedom to be touched by anyone else than exposing my research.
The girl tried to act asleep as if she were to play dead. A small voice in her head echoed that she wouldn't have to play dead soon. She shook it off. (Y/N) was restrained in ropes hugging tight to her arms and her legs.
She moaned once or twice at the heavy absorbing gravity the anxiety in her chest held, whatever happened she just wanted to get it over with. Minutes bled to hours. She hadn't cried in years, not even when her Father left, or when her Mother killed herself, or when her brother ran away, or when her sister went missing. My God. She had been numb for so long she's grown used to it. But at this very moment it felt like her chest could explode into a phenomenon of a thousand fireworks dressed in blue and she would finally burst. The thought of crying made her tighten her bitter chest.
The cellar door opened, and down came the man. She acted asleep. After she heard the weight of a footstep come down the last step, she waited for his voice. But it never came, instead she was picked up and thrown over his back like a sleeping child. She didn't speak, or yelp. She just acted asleep. Her arms awkwardly dangled, softly brushing the silk of his begrimed cloak. She noticed her foot, which had been numb for a while, had started to relieve blood flow.
"You are different, you know. Either your braver or caught in your own stubbornness. Most of my subjects would be at their knees prying at my feet begging me for all possible mercy, though I never locked them up. You should feel special." He taunted, waiting for a response but not expecting one. She was transparent to him, and at this moment it was clear he wasn't buying her sleeping act.
Thought the fact he didn't plainly spit it out gave her an artificial dime-sized fragment of hope, and so she stayed quiet. A frosty breath drew out from his nostrils, exhausting a sigh. "I hope your ready for your punishment." Punishment. Her mind surrendered all dangling dignity and hope to the word, suddenly the flames in her chest grew to her speech. She tucked the spitting fire under her tongue and stayed silenced in fear. Though a soft hiccup echoed in her throat.
He chuckled deviously, seemingly as if he had won an uncharted battle. She finally had the dignity to open her eyes, flinching at the sudden noise of a door closing and echoing threw the large setting like groaning lighting. She gawked at the large home, certainly bigger than anywhere she's been- besides Beacon.
Then, he dropped her. She landed on her side and grunted. A cold blow knocked out of her chest making the cry dry. She looked up irritated, the man looked satisfied; amused. This anger took way though and she roughly kicked his legs, knocking him over. He looked at her surprised from the blow, then angered. And when her anger rush turned to fear quick she scurried to her feet.
Muttering an weak apology as she ran to the closest door. It was locked, so she bolted for the stairs. He caught her by the arm and she was throw on him. He restrained both her arms tightly. At this moment the girl feared him most, realizing now he was at most certainly strong against her size and quick to act on his feet. She felt more fear than she did pain, she wouldn't stop apologizing, not until she felt safe.
"You should be very afraid." His whisper was like a cold smoke in her ear. She felt as if she had broken some sort of truss between them somehow. He carried her to a door that wasn't locked, opening it and telling her to lean over a table.
"What are you doing?" "I am going to spank you."
I would just like to mention that it was my birthday two days ago and the friends I have mentioned that I didn't want to tell about my fanfiction page that found out anyway gave me about the best fucking birthday card I have ever received in my whole life.
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Thank you Meghan~Senpai❤️
Anyway for this story I'm gonna put Ruviks thoughts at the beginning and such. And to not get it mixed up, His Masochist isn't really a Ruvik X Reader as much as it is actually Ruvik showing a loving family affection towards his second sister who happens to be a badass Masochist.
