ＳＡＵＣＹ ＴＡＬＥＳ 〈Overwatch Oneshots〉

submission - reaper x reader

A/N: Thank you guys for reading/voting/commenting. You guys make me a very happy and motivated author.

This story contains elements of S&M.

Not suitable for work or kids.

***

"Remember the men I slaughtered?" His deep voice sounded distorted beneath the eerie mask. "You can be sure there'll be more like them. Especially if you refuse to do what I tell you to."

The gruesome scene forced its way into your thoughts. Bodies bloodied and broken, covered with multiple bullet holes. Pale husks with wide, haunting eyes. You took a breath, closing your eyes to try and shut the memory out.

The Overwatch base you were sent to was the smallest in the world. You were assured that the mission would involve little to no danger, because this time, your duty was diplomatic in nature. Yet, upon your arrival, the agents stationed there had been killed by Talon mercenaries. And to add to your misfortune, its leader was present and made your capture effortless.

"What do you want from me?" You glared daggers at the infamous Reaper, the one responsible for countless and needless deaths, the one responsible for your capture. Seated on the cold metal floor, you eyed him closely. With your hands bound behind your back, you were helpless.

"I want you to work for me." He stated readily.

"No." Your response was instantaneous. "You might as well just finish me off now." You stared Reaper down, and if glances could kill, he'd most definitely be dead.

"I like that look you're giving me." He began to circle you, pacing slowly around the room. Like a predator. "It'll be more fun when I break you."

You didn't flinch or bat an eye, choosing to hold your tongue instead of retorting.

"Looks like you were trained well," His knowing laugh sounded sinister. "I'm hurt that you don't even recognize me."

Your brow furrowed, and when he saw the confusion in your expression, he laughed again. This time, however, he followed up with removing his mask.

Your lips parted as shock infiltrated your senses--a reaction to seeing the familiar face of your first mentor, the man who had recruited you into Overwatch years ago and trained you to become one of its finest agents. The man you believed perished in that fateful explosion.

For the first time since you've been held captive, you experienced... uncertainty.

"Gabriel..." Your mouth went dry. "So after all these years... you're still alive." Your confusion seemed to be thrilling to him. "Talon is your doing?"

"You're not the little brat I remember, [Y/N]. You've grown." He pulled a chair in front of you and sat in front of it, his legs parted as he leaned forward to observe your face closely. "Into a skilled agent. Your talents are wasted on Overwatch."

His proximity allowed you to observe his in return. It wasn't the scattered, light scars that unnerved you. It was the glowing red of his irises. His skin was the same bronze color you remembered.

He grinned when he caught the trepidation in your eyes, revealing yet another one of his features that you found disturbing. Fangs. Sharp canines you'd never expect to see in a human's mouth.