Overwatch ➸ Reader Insert Oneshots

Reaper // Sadistic

Requested by: GookPudding

Prompt 45. "How has your day been?" "Excuse me?" ". . . I was just curious."

[Rating: PG13]
[Word count: 1528]
[Summary: When you're left alone at Talon HQ with Reaper, he questions your motives for joining. It's recklessness, and you're ready to exhibit that trait for him.]
[Genre: Fluff? Semi-smut???]
[Unedited]

    You sat across from Reaper, hands folded in your lap. The base was silent as you focused your gaze on the break room door. When much of Talon had called for a celebration after a recent victory, you'd opted to stay behind; it wasn't smart to leave a base unguarded. This, apparently, was also Reaper's thought. Though, he didn't seem like one for celebration in the first place.

     Reaper, who scared you to no end. You may have been brave enough to join forces with a dangerous terrorist organization, but you were in no way brave enough to sit around making small talk with the infamous reaper. Even with his skeletal mask obscuring his face, you could feel his sharp, judging gaze on you. It was almost thrilling to be in his presence. 

     Pushing your fear aside, you cleared your throat. "So, how has your day been?"

     "Excuse me?" His voice was rough, threatening even.

     ". . . I was just curious."

     Silence blanketed the room once again, and you fiddled with your fingers. You respected Reaper, despite your wariness. He was something you could never be: authoritative. What he said went, and he wasn't one to back down. You desperately wanted to win the rare, brief words of praise that some of the more prominent members of Talon would get out of him, but you'd never had the opportunity to prove yourself. 

     "Hey, kid."

     You were pulled out of your thoughts, your head snapping up to meet the dark pits of the mask where Reaper's eyes should be. "Sir?"

     "What's a girl like you doing in a terrorist organization like this, anyway?"

     "What do you mean by 'a girl like you?'" You were relieved that he'd at least made an attempt to cut through the awkward atmosphere, but you weren't expecting such a personal question. In a line of work like this, people typically don't ask each other about their motives. 

     "Small. Quiet. Submissive." His frame was still, his voice even. "Frail. Obedient. You don't exactly have the look for widespread terrorism."

     "Oh, I hadn't realized I'd seemed so weak to you." You averted your gaze, slightly disappointed at the development.

     The feel of Reaper's eyes on you was still present, sending a shiver down your spine. He was dangerous, and you reacted to that danger almost involuntarily. "Not weak. Just not built for murder. I asked you a question, now answer it," he commanded.

     "I didn't join for blood lust; that much is true." Your voice was low as you spoke. It didn't take a genius to know that the reason you'd just vocalized was the exact reason Reaper had joined. He was a psychopath, albeit a high-functioning one. "I joined out of boredom."

     "You don't sign up to commit mass terrorism out of boredom."

     "I did," you assured him. "It sounds terrible of me to say it so lightly, I know. I was just . . . tired of living life on the sidelines. I want to impact the world in a big way before I die. I want to leave a part of myself here, even if it's through nefarious means."