#ruvik x reader

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A soft, familiar squelch filled his ears as the scalpel cut cleanly through the brain. Each incision was made with practiced precision, every wave of the small knife deliberate. He’d done this so many times before, it was second nature by now. Dissect, record, kill, dissect, record, he’d done it since he’d freed himself from beneath his parent’s thumbs. Since he got out of the basement. Ironic, now that he’d set up his main lab there.

Today was no different, though Ruben had chosen to focus on one particular part of the brain; the cerebellum. It sat lower on the organ, closer to the brainstem, meaning he often had to kill his subjects to get to it. No matter, the data was more than worth it. And it was there waiting for him, a wellspring of neurotransmitters and chemical reactions. The mind’s response to his live dissections etched into the stone walls of chemistry.

With one final, satisfying cut, the gelatinous glob fell from the rest of the organ, the gentle weight falling into a gloved hand. Ruben placed it onto its own tray, shoving the rest of the brain into a corner. He’d have to discard it before it began to rot, but that could wait. His scarred fingers twitched with the anticipation of new data. His creation, STEM, was nearly ready for its first prototype, he was so close.

Standing, he went to retrieve the rest of the tools he’d need, listing them off as he removed his gloves; syringes, sharper scalpels, a microscope. Things he preferred not cluttering his desk while he worked on getting the parts he needed. Sometimes he could work on the surgical tables marking the center of his ‘exam rooms’, but alas, he still needed to dispose of the body, too. Something that only served to waste his time, which could be spent doing research.

He grunted with the weight of some of the equipment, his hands sending dull shocks of pain up his arms. Ruben had years to cope with the weakness of his body after the fire, but it was moments like these that made him grit his teeth in silent rage. That day had rendered his existence one of constant pain and strife, and he was loath to be reminded of such.

Though that rage quickly simmered down, burning with a low heat in his chest. That was why he was doing this research, after all. His body, his life…his sister. What he lost, he would get back.

One subject, one dissection, one brain at a time.

Ruben let out a tense sigh, his robe catching the stale air as he spun around, awkwardly walking back to his desk with the bulky microscope cradled in his hands. He only wished it wasn’t taking so long. His project was years in the making, and he knew it would take years more for it to come to fruition. Truthfully, he was frustrated by it all. He was tired of living this joke.

The microscope hit his desk with a dull thud, the scars on his hands and fingers aching from the excursion. He shook them out, flexing his fingers to tame the soreness in his joints. The day was still young, and he was determined to make the most of it.

Ruben picked up his scalpel, positioning the cerebellum so his cuts would be clean along its length. To get the proper images, he’d need slices as thin as hairs, which meant there was little room for error. Too thick and he wouldn’t be able to see what he was looking for, too thin and there wouldn’t be enough to work with. He would be injecting them with dye, which in turn would react with the various chemicals throughout the soft tissue, changing the dye’s color. Crude methods, certainly, but they delivered the desired results. The way the brain coped with such high levels of stress, fear, and pain - he would have that as his prize.

Or, at least that was the plan. Plans which came to a grinding halt when Ruben found himself unable to move his arm or hand.

Puzzled, he furrowed his brow, glancing at the offending limb. It was frozen in midair, scalpel raised, as if stuck in time. He tried to force it into motion, but it didn’t budge, the muscles stiffened without his consent. Frustrated, he turned his attention back to the brain on his desk, hoping his muscles would relax after a moment. It wasn’t unusual for his body to just give out on him, much to his annoyance, but with any luck, it would pass after a few moments.

Ruben was caught off guard though, when his vision began to swim. He couldn’t focus on any one thing, all of it smearing into a watery mess of indistinguishable colors. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his muddy eyes, but there was no relief.

He heard a distinct clatter, that of metal striking metal. He’d dropped his scalpel, it took him too long to realize. He hadn’t even felt it, couldn’t perceive as his fingers closed around nothing. He could feel his breaths becoming frantic, his body not listening to his commands. The colors warped, shifted and melded, until everything began to go dark…

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You knew something wasn’t right when you heard a metallic tink as you were coming down the basement stairs. The place was usually home to similar sounds, that of Ruben exchanging one tool for another while he worked, but this time it sounded different. Louder, more chaotic, like something had been dropped. That wasn’t like him - Ruben was meticulous, and took great care of his equipment. It wasn’t like him to be careless.

You’d been on your way down to deliver some water when you heard it. Ruben had trouble remembering his own physical needs while he was working, meaning more often than not, that duty fell to you. You made sure he stayed hydrated, and had something to eat if he got hungry between meals. He feigned irritation, stubborn as he was about being able to take care of himself, but you knew he appreciated what you did. The glasses were always empty when you came back to retrieve them, and his supply of snacks was always steadily depleting. While he didn’t approve of you being in his lab for long, he allowed you these short visits.

Besides, you always sweetened the deal by giving him a quick kiss before you went back upstairs, and you both knew Ruben couldn’t refuse you when you did that.

All such pretense went down the drain when you heard the strange noise, your heart jumping a little. You hurried the rest of the way down, dropping off the glass on a random table when you reached the bottom. Without hesitation, you barged into the room he was working in, not caring if he got mad at you for the intrusion. He was standing before his desk on the far wall, hand poised above a pink blob on a tray. Part of a brain, you supposed, but you hadn’t the foggiest idea which piece.

More worryingly, Ruben hadn’t acknowledged you when you came in. You tilted your head at him quizzically.

“Ruben?” You said, voice meek as you tentatively stepped forward. He offered no response, which only made your concern grow. Upon getting closer, you noticed a slight tremble to his form.

“Ruben? Ruben, what's wrong?” You said, more frantic now. You’d never seen him act like this, and you hadn’t a clue what could be causing him to do so.

You reached out a hand to steady him. His trembling only seemed to be getting worse.

Before you could graze the fabric of his robe with your fingers, his legs appeared to give out. Eyes widening, you jumped forward to catch him, yelping as he dragged you down to the floor with his weight. You collapsed in a tangled heap, Ruben’s body cushioned by your own. The concrete was cold, unforgiving as it bit into your tailbone.

Recovering from the tumble, you looked down at the man in your lap, opening your mouth to ask more questions. You just as quickly froze, feeling Ruben’s body twitch and convulse in your lap. The blood drained from your face, heart in your throat as you watched his body jerk violently.

Seizure, your brain offered through its panic.

“Fuck,” you muttered, setting Ruben gently down on the floor, mind whirling with what you were supposed to do.

He’d warned you this was a possibility. When you two started a relationship, he’d given you a laundry list of various complications that arose from his injuries. Numbness, trouble with temperature regulation, limited movement, muscle stiffness, and yes, seizures were on that list. He told you they happened more often when he was a boy, his body unable to cope with the loss of so much tissue. They didn’t happen as much anymore, but they would never fully go away. There was always a chance of one happening.

Too great a chance, you thought, ripping off your shirt and putting it under his head. He’d given you some basic instructions on what to do if he ever went into such a state, back when he explained all this. It was a bit hard to concentrate though, heart like a drum as you watched him seize.

Safety, safety first, you reminded yourself, spotting a scalpel close by - the one he dropped, you presumed. You quickly snatched it away from him, setting it on his desk so he wouldn’t cut himself. Next, you remembered him telling you to time his seizures, to make sure they didn’t last too long. You grabbed at your phone with shaky fingers, fumbling with the device until you finally got a timer going. Make sure he’s breathing, don’t hold him down, keep things out of his mouth, your mind recited the list, mentally checking off each one as you did it.

His last instruction, stay calm, was admittedly quite a bit harder to honor.

How were you supposed to stay calm with your love seizing on the floor?!

What was minutes felt like hours. You sat beside him, feeling useless and scared as you worried your bottom lip between your teeth. Ruben told you these weren’t a huge deal, and you trusted him, but being in the presence of it was something else entirely. You felt like you should be able to do more, make it less torturous somehow, but the logical part of you knew you couldn’t. Now it was just about waiting.

Slowly, his muscles began to settle, the spasms happening less often, their strength waning. You spared a look at his face, frowning at the grimace still on it. You hoped he wasn’t in pain. You peeked at the timer; 1 minute 40 seconds, it read.

You let out an anxious breath, rocking back on your shins. Not a medical emergency, then, if it was already clearing up. For that at least, you were grateful.

A deep groan filled the room, and your attention snapped back to Ruben. He was finally starting to regain consciousness, squeezing his eyes tightly shut against the fluorescent bulbs overhead. Once you were sure it was safe, you scooped him up into your lap, cradling his head and shoulders while you softly whispered his name. You nudged his nose with your own, trying to get him to open his eyes. You needed to know he was okay. His flesh was cold, and you held him firmly, giving him as much of your warmth and comfort as you could.

Eventually, it worked. Ruben groaned again, a deep, pained sound, eyelids parting a crack to look up at you. They looked glassy, like he’d abruptly been awoken from a deep sleep. You gave his shoulders a light squeeze, delicately stroking the scarred side of his face while his good side pressed against your chest.

“Ruben, are you okay?” You asked gently, looking at him with clear worry etched into your face.

He blinked at you a few times, taking a moment to process your words.

“I…What happened?” He croaked, his voice horse. You’d have to remember to make him drink something.

“You had a seizure,” was your simple reply. You tried your best to sound calm, but your voice wavered as you spoke, giving you away. “I did my best to keep you safe and comfortable.”

Ruben studied your face for a moment before he nodded stiffly, his attention leaving you to scan the room.

“And where…are we?” He asked.

Ah, the confusion. You remembered he told you that was the most common symptom. Seizures almost always left their victims confused and disoriented.

“We’re in your lab, at the manor,” you told him. He seemed pleased with that answer, the last of the stiffness leaving him as he relaxed into you. Your heart melted as he nuzzled his face into your sternum, blinking lazily as he let out a contented sigh.

Loath as you were to move him, you knew this wasn’t the best place for him to rest.

“Hey,” you kissed his forehead to get his attention. Those pale irises snapped to you instantly; he couldn’t resist your touch. “I’ll take you to bed, okay?” You waited for a response, and after another nod, you continued. “Do you want me to get your wheelchair, or can you stand?”

His nose wrinkled at the mention of his chair. You knew he hated it, hated how much it reminded him how weak his body was, but with mobility being a common issue, he needed to keep it around. You wished for his sake he used it more often, but you never pushed the matter.

“I can walk,” he said quickly. He didn’t need the help, he could do it himself.

To prove his point, he tried to sit up. Tried, being the operative word. His adam’s apple bobbed with anguished grunts as his muscles screamed in protest. Everything was sore, like he’d just run a marathon in sweltering heat. His teeth ground together as he slumped forward, head hung as he fought down a wave of nausea.

“Hey,” you said again, supporting his back so he wouldn’t fall and hit his head. “Don’t push yourself. I’ll take you as far as I can, but if you need the wheelchair, please just ask for it. Now is not the time to be stubborn.”

Ruben huffed at you, but he knew he was in no position to argue. “Fine,” he hissed, letting you loop his arm behind your neck. With a quick countdown, you were able to hoist him up, both of you stumbling a little as you found your footing. His scars pressed up against you as he used you for support, and you did your best not to cause them any unnecessary irritation. After making sure Ruben was okay, you began your slow, awkward hobble up to the second floor.

It was a long, arduous process. One made almost entirely in silence, both of you struggling to put one foot in front of another. Only two questions from him broke the silence on your journey there: how long was the seizure, and why weren’t you wearing a shirt. You had to stifle a laugh at the second one, but you answered them honestly. It wasn’t long before you reached the bedroom, causing you both to sag in relief. You had to kick the door open, leading him inside as gravity shut it behind you.

He plopped onto the sheets heavily, panting from the pain plaguing his joints. You sat down next to him, taking his hand in yours, rubbing his knuckles with your thumb to sooth him. You couldn’t begin to imagine how hard something as simple as walking must be after that, especially with his burns already making movement difficult. Your own shoulders were sore from holding him up, but it was a small price to pay if it lessened his own suffering, even if only a little.

After a pause, Ruben sighed, lifting his head to stare at the wall opposite you.

“This is pointless,” he grumbled, turning to meet your gaze. “I’ll be fine in a few minutes. I should be back in the lab.”

Your brows drew down at that, eyes narrowing. Even for him, that was an insane notion. You leaned forward, placing a single finger on his charred nose.

“Liar,” you accused sternly. “I know you want to do more, but you’re in no condition to be running experiments. You need to rest.”

Ruben scowled, removing your hand from his face. “I need to get back to work. I’ve lost enough time as it is.”

You scowled back at him, a harsh rebuttal on the tip of your tongue, but you stopped yourself. The expression just as quickly dissolved, replaced by worry and sorrow. You knew how important his work was to him, you knew what he’d done to obtain it. Aside from you, it was everything to him.

“I know,” you said softly. You pushed the hood of his robe down, revealing his scarred, hairless face. You ran your hand along the edge of his jawline, admiring how handsome he looked like that. “I know it means a lot to you…I just don’t want you to hurt yourself.” He gave you an incredulous look, but you weren’t finished. “I know you’d stay down there every waking moment if you could, and I don’t fault you for that. But I can’t stand the thought of finding you impaled on your own equipment, or one of your subjects getting out because a seizure impaired your judgment. I don’t want to think about what could happen to you if you don’t give yourself a break. So if you can’t do it for yourself, can you at least do it for me?”

Ruben didn’t say anything at first, his eyes rolling over your face while you stroked his own. Part of you expected him to keep arguing; after all, he’d survived this long without you.

Instead, it hardly took a moment before his features began to soften, and he melted into your touch. His eyes closed in sweet bliss as you traced his scars with a loving reverence, basking in the way you worshiped his body.

“Alright,” he breathed. When he looked at you, his eyes were filled with a subtle adoration. “I’ll rest. But only if you promise to stay with me.”

Your face lit up at his condition, smiled brightly at him. You leaned forward, brushing his lips with yours.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you purred, smirking as his pupils widened with desire, a tiny shiver rippling across his skin. God, how easily he became putty in your hands.

Before he got any ideas though, you pulled away, wordlessly tugging at the sleeves of his robe. You both knew it would only catch on his scars while he was under the covers, so it needed to come off. He let you carefully remove it, not a word uttered from either of you as you threw it over your shoulder. You’d deal with it in the morning.

Averting your gaze from his bare chest, heat rushing to your cheeks, you wormed your way back onto the bed, flopping down onto your back. As an afterthought, you unclasped your bra, pulling your arms through it as you tossed it onto the floor. Like hell you were going to sleep in that. Satisfied, you beckoned Ruben to join you, holding out your hand invitingly.

Unfortunately, he was a tad busy, staring wide eyed at your form, to notice. He still wasn’t used to seeing such things, even after living together with you for months.

“No funny business,” you teased, lightly pulling on his arm to make him lay down.

His eyes flicked up and down, meeting yours before admiring you again.

“No promises,” he smirked.

You scoffed, pulling on him enough to finally coax him into action. He hesitantly crawled over you, lowering himself as you wrapped your arms around his waist. He let out another happy sigh as your breasts squished against his flesh, so soft, so warm. You traced along his spine with the pads of your fingers as he buried himself in the crook of your neck, letting your chin rest atop his head. Legs intertwining, he gently clutched at your shoulders while you pulled the blankets over your bodies. You smiled at the feeling of the dual textures of his rough, burnt skin and the smooth, untouched parts of it. The buttons of Ruben’s pants dug into your thigh, but you hardly noticed, instead enjoying this moment of affection between the two of you. You knew you were likely to wake up alone, Ruben having gone back to his lab, so you were going to savor this as long as you could.

As his breathing began to even out, you placed a few final kisses on the crown of his head.

“Rest now, my love,” you whispered, hands continuing their ministrations. “Rest, and I might just let you go back to work tomorrow.”

“As if you could stop me,” Ruben quipped, but his speech was slurred, his heart not in it. Shortly after, his breathing slowed considerably, and you knew he was fast asleep. He must’ve been exhausted; he didn’t usually fall asleep so fast.

Happy he was heeding your words, you closed your eyes, determined to follow suit. You imagined sitting by him in the music room, Ruben expertly plucking a melancholy tune from his piano as you drifted off to sleep.

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It’s been way too fucking long since I posted any fanfics, I almost forgot how I even format my own posts >.<

He was a deep, dark and broken soul. Someone sadistic and whom could never be mended.

Then there was you- his heart felt the warmest it had in years when he saw little ol' you. How could he not want to simply assure you everything would be alright?

He didn't know why he felt this way or how this happened but he knew he'd never let you go. Till his very last moments he'd never ever let anyone lay a finger on you.

-

"Ruvik!!!"

Your screaming shook him to his core, Joseph currently had you cornered. The man was beyond pissed when he discovered your close connection with the deranged killer.

However Ruvik immediately was no longer in the mood for the games he had been playing with Joseph's mind, the moment he saw that you had ended up in danger tangled up in the winding web he created- he lost it.

Like a spider protecting its own personal helpless little fly, he swooped in to the rescue and within mere moments the walls were painted crimson. Your cries made his heart sink and he carefully slipped you into his embrace, your head rested against his cool skin.

"Shh... It's alright."

-

You currently were curled up with him in bed, listening to the wailing wind outside. Your hands were clutching onto his arm for dear life, as if you were afraid he may slip away.

"Ruvik... What if someone's tries to take me away...? What if they come for you or-"

You were silenced by a pair of scarred lips meeting your own, after breaking away he uttered softly.

"I won't let them."

-

Sebastian had incurred your wrath. Kidman had incurred your wrath. Joseph was just standing there, but somehow you found a way to be nasty toward him. You were vicious in dispatching zombies, curb-stomping, firing a shotgun in their mouth, you laughed at their death, and doing practically nothing to ensure your teammate's survival.

"It's just survival of the fittest, Seb. Not my fault you can't keep up."

To be honest, you were Ruben's biggest threat. You'd sacrifice your team just to get away from him if that's what it took. He had nothing to hold over your head, there was nothing he could make you do that would make you feel awful. He couldn't break you.

When he confronted you on your own, he was quite honestly stunned into silence when you greeted him with a sympathetic smile as you looked at the ground and kicked at it.

"Hi. You must be Ruvik. Or is it Ruben? I don't really know what to call you, I looked through some files. Sorry if that was invasive, I didn't know they were yours at first. Some were Jimenez'. Anyways, I saw somewhere they called you Ruben." He stood there in shock, mouth hanging slightly open, eyes scanning over you for any hidden weapons, some trick or trap, to jarringly find nothing.

"Uhm, hello?" He snapped himself out of it and whispered at first, still trying to process things. "Ruben." When you tilted your head in confusion, he cleared his throat and tried again. "Ruben, my name's Ruben. They called me Ruvik. An experiment. A code name."

"It's nice to meet you, Ruben. Officially, not just believing everything they say about you." You walked forward to shake his hand, and he stepped backward.

"What? Oh, right... The scars. Here, I'll switch hands." He shook his head at your words.

"You're up to something. I've been watching you. All of you. You're particularly cruel compared to them. Why the sudden change in demeanor?"

You chuckled lightly at his words. "I just don't feel like they deserve my kindness. You, on the other hand..." Ruben scoffed. "I don't need your pity."

"Oh, I don't pity you. It's called sympathy. I'm not going to coo over you and tell you what a poor defenseless thing you are, I just feel like you've been punched enough. You don't need me on top of everything else."

Ruben's eyes widened at your statement, letting the silence linger for a little before he walked up to you and offered you his hand. You smiled at him and shook it.

ASSASSIN'S CREED: SYNDICATE

Evie Frye

Jacob Frye

DEVIL MAY CRY

Vergil

Dante

Nero

V

DISHONORED

Corvo Attano

The Outsider

Daud

JUJUTSU KAISEN

Satoru Gojo

OUTLAST

Eddie Gluskin

Waylon Park

Miles Upshur

Blake Langermann

RESIDENT EVIL

Leon S. Kennedy

Claire Redfield

Albert Wesker

Karl Heisenberg

Dimitrescu daughters

Alcina Dimitrescu

Ethan Winters

SCRUTINIZED/WELCOME TO THE GAME

Tanner Grayton

Breather

THE EVIL WITHIN

Ruvik

Joseph Oda

• This man is touch deprived. Touch. Deprived. He wants you at least thrice a day. He's addicted to you- to your touch, your scent, the way you whine and moan when he touches you. He wants to tear you apart, live inside your flesh- sew your flesh to his own so he never has to part from you. His libido is insatiable if you're around it feels like.

• Oral fixation king. Ruvik wants to go down on you literally all the time. You could be mid conversation and he's already telling you to keep talking even as you're hoisted up onto a countertop and he's dropping to his knees.

• Sexual games. Sadism runs even into the bedroom. Some days it's simpler, simply talk and/or sing as he touches you and don't make a sound. Pretend like nothing is happening. And some days it's still simple, edging you for hours and hour or seeing how many orgasms you can have.

• But some days? Some days he wants to see you break. It all depends on your limits too, how bloody can you take it? How gorey? If neither are your jam, most times he just wants to see what he can do to drive you insane. What can he deprive you of until you're begging and crying for him? How many of himself can he conjure until too many hands are too many? What filthy things can he make you do until you break?

• You're his little experiment. It's no wonder what kinds of things he's into. Medical play, sadism, domination over you- but he's not against you turning the tables. But he won't play nicely. However, if you manage to pin him, get HIM into that headspace? Oh he'll be so good for you. Anything for you.

• Aftercare is a concept you need to introduce him to, however. You pretty much awaken his long since quieted libido. So make sure you establish first that you ain't doing SHIT until you know he knows how to get you out of there if you're too far gone.

• If you're into harder kinks like gun play, knife play, branding, or even if you want to be in STEM and want to literally feel yourself be gored and ripped apart- he's into it.