#ow2 x reader

SOMBRA

Olivia doesn’t know how to handle herself when the new hire at Talon, Mauga gets a bit too close to you at work. It’s not like her to get jealous anyway.

She never needs to get jealous, she has all of your passwords written down in a little notebook on her desk. She’s not insecure, it’s only to keep you safe. She’s just thinking about your best interest after all.

Everything starts out small, since you both worked in different units it was common you’d bump into one another from time to time on the clock. You were a researcher, a medic, the one who’d patch her up and scold her if even a little cut got on her skin.

She’d never need to go to your office unless she was in dire condition, she’s always been precise and quiet, turning heads as she skillfully slipped by, but ever since the new reckless rookie Mauga joined her unit with Reyes and Lacroix, her visits to you were becoming much more frequent.

She noticed when Mauga first met you, how his tongue would lick over his bottom lip once you’d turn around as he glanced at you without shame. A small puff in his chest when you got too close, and how low his voice would get whenever he answered you.

She hated it.

Or how he’d talk about you non stop when the four of them were on missions. How he’d purposely get himself hurt just to see you.

She knew he was reckless, but this was ridiculous. But you didn’t mind, it was your job after all, and despite all of it you just patched him up with a kind smile each time.

He was shamelessly flirting with you, and even though you ignored his advances it still didn’t sit well with Olivia.

When the two of you get home she’s unusually quiet. The most quiet she’s been in weeks. Sure it was normal for her to prioritize some big project she was working on in her room, but this silence was alarming, even for her.

You’re quick to confront her, gentle hand grabbing on her wrist when she gets home late at night so you could pull her into your embrace on the couch.

She doesn’t speak for a while, what was she even supposed to say? The thought of admitting her jealousy made her tongue itch.

“You’ve been quiet for a few days, Liv, what’s wrong?” “Did I do anything to upset you?”

You were so gentle with her, you always were. The thought of you thinking you did anything wrong made her feel slightly guilty for how cold she was being.

“No, my love. I’m sorry I just—“ she shuddered, biting her inner cheek. It was always hard communicating her feelings. She lets out a low weary sigh, sluggish shoulders weighing down before she gives you an embarrassed glance.

“Mauga, the new recruit. He’s been hanging around your clinic quite a lot, huh?”

You tilt your head, a puzzling expression etched on your face, “I suppose he’s a bit reckless, but what can you expect from a rookie?”

“What do you think about him?”

Ah.

So, that’s what’s wrong.

You lightly smile, rubbing her back to pull her in a small hug. “He’s a bit annoying, don’t you think? Don’t worry, even if he’s in my clinic, my number one priority is always my number one patient.” You kiss her cheek, pulling her up with you. “Maybe I should show you how much I really care.”

Olivia is set after the two of you talked things over. It’s not that she didn’t trust you in the first place, but the sight of that idiotic rookie flirting with you was too much to bear.

She hated that she still felt a certain way whenever the two of you were together, that’s why she crept around your office planting little microphones and cameras under your desk and chairs. “It’s not for you, it’s for him” she’d try to justify

She’s actively watching your cameras anytime she has some free time, sometimes she’ll just watch you when she gets bored, which is pretty much always. She needs to keep you safe, doesn’t she?

ASHE

The thought of Ashe being jealous is damn scary.

She doesn’t take kindly to people who don’t keep their hands to themselves, especially when it concerns someone who is rightfully and completely hers.

Ashe isn’t a monster, she won’t fling her riffle all over the place if someone gets a bit too close to you, she plays things carefully until she has to get involved. But you were a brat, a free spirit, and you really knew how to work her nerves.

The two of you would argue frequently, that wasn’t anything new. You were spoiled, and that was Ashe’s fault completely, but would she ever stop? Not entirely..

The two of you haven’t spoken to one another in three days, the tension between you and the rest of the members of the Deadlock gang was thick enough to the point it felt suffocating,

You and Ashe were at each other's throats, you had gotten into a nasty argument that left both of you feeling guilty and hurt. She had gotten injured a few days ago in a shoot out, a clean bullet hole wound right on the top of her chest. She was lucky enough that it wasn’t life threatening. You both ended up screaming for hours, you accusing her of being too reckless, and her shutting you down.

“I don’t need you spittin’ down my back each time I get hurt, I’ve gone through a lot worse before you came along. I’m tired of you cagin’ me in!”

You bite your lip, eyes hazy with anger, “you worry me, Ashe, how do you think I feel coming home to find you hurt all the damn time?”

“You know?” Ashe begins, her anger more prevalent than her sense of reason “things were a lot more peaceful around here when you weren’t here nagging off my ear.” Ouch.

Ever since then you both haven’t been on speaking terms…

Ashe wanted to apologize, she really, really did, but it was hard for her. It was never easy admitting you hurt the person you love.

After a few days you can’t take it anymore, you take the rest of the gang out for drinks while Ashe mends to her bike in her garage.

You let everything out, how much you were hurting from her lack of communication to the rest of the crew, you were a drunk mess.

You wanted to get back at her, make her feel that sting of being unneeded and washed out, so you wait. You knew Ashe would come to the bar later on, Frankie had always managed to coax her out of hiding whenever the two of you fought.

You’re at the bar next to a large fellow when Ashe finally arrives, you were shamelessly batting your lashes at everything he said, smiling politely when he offered to buy you another drink because you were just so pretty.

You knew Ashe was watching, and you could definitely feel the sting of her red eyes peering into you like lasers from behind. And you couldn’t have been more proud of your performance.

You talk with the man the remainder of the night, boredom taking over when it starts to get late outside. He offers to take you home, and even in your drunk haze you can’t help but notice the violent thrashing of a rifle hitting the man’s arm with a crack when he gets too close to you.

“I’ll take em home, don’t you worry,”

Ashe stands beside you, her arm wrapped around your shoulder in an instant

“You should head on, it’s getting mighty late…”

The man grabs his arm, grunting in pain as he glares up at your girlfriend. He’s about to lunge at her, well, he was until he catches a glimpse of her face. The most wanted woman in the world was right next to him, and it didn’t take a genius to know you were hands off from the way she looked at you. She was pissed sure, but her evident expression of worry couldn’t be masked over her fury.

The man tumbled away, cursing under his breath while Ashe nurses you back to soberness with a tall glass of ice water.

“I figure this is my fault,” she began, rubbing her finger behind your jaw “I’m sorry.”

You pout, arms crossed as you push away from her “I still don’t want to talk to you after what you said.”

“Damn it, I said I’m sorry, drop the attitude before I wipe that look off your face. “

And she does, all night long she makes up for her harsh words to you in your shared bed with cuddles ♡

WIDOWMAKER

She hasn’t felt jealousy in a long, long, long time.

Amélie doesn’t know how to handle this newfound jealousy she gets, but she knows one thing, she doesn’t like it. It all states as minor annoyance, until it bubbled into something ugly and raw inside her.

It all started when the new rookie hire at Talon was taken under your wing for training. Before this, Amélie was your mission partner for a good five years. You both got into a “relationship” unexpectedly. You aren’t even sure you can call whatever you have a relationship at this point, but you did know that you cared for her, and maybe she had some tiny amount of care for you deep inside the hollow shell of her heart. You think….

Your new rookie partner is flirty, but you’re the only person in Talon with the skill to teach them, everyone else is either too incompetent or overly busy.

Once their training was over you happily let the new rookie go, not only were they annoying, but you weren’t interested in them in the slightest.

You’re back to your post with Amélie only a few weeks later, happy and content with the comfortable silence you had with her.

Your phone chip in your skull was always ringing. It was getting so irritating hearing the rookie you hired call you for help on minor things. You couldn’t stand it. They even tagged along with you and Amélie one night so they could “get some more experience” as they would say.

Everything was going smoothly at first. The three of you snuck in a building then separated to three roofs. Your target was in a crowd, one of you needed to get the shot, it didn’t matter who had to die in the process.

Unfortunately for you and Amélie however, the rookie completely blew their cover. Guards were rushing to their side of the building quickly. There probably wouldn’t be any way for them to escape.

The target you needed to shoot was from a very powerful gang, a gang known for torturing people who even dared to cross it. You knew the rookie couldn’t handle the pressure, but what could you do?

You’re about to call back into Talon HQ, maybe they can advise you on what to do next to handle the situation.

But before you can even reach for your watch a fast, roaring bullet flies past you, landing right between the rookie's eyes. You cover your mouth, turning quickly to Amélie who’s already making leave through the building's fire escape. You follow, reaching her minutes before she’s about to leave in the getaway van.

“What did you do!?” You slam the door, fumbling your gun in your hand as she starts speeding off.

“You know as well as I that they would have broken them. I only made things easier for everyone.”

She stays quiet for a bit, hesitating to speak before she says

the previous hordes of spiteful, weapon-welding humans have long since past, driven off by the sheer number of null sector soldiers sent shortly before his arrival. he listens closely to binary sounds of chatter over dozens of channels from each of his comrades, little more than a distraction from his true focus of finding omnic survivors to bring into comfort. handfuls of his brethren are brought out from beneath rubble and ruin, much hesitance in shaky steps, but at the sight of him do they finally accept well-deserved shelter. he counts them each by one, guiding gently their trembling bodies towards his airships that’ll carry them away to safety.

“those should be the last of us.” a soft timbre comes from behind him, cutting past all radio chatters. in an instant his attention is given you, his love who walks this path besides him. supported on your right limps another feminine omnic, a common model, clinging to you as if you both have always been good friends. the view brings his cynical soul delight; although his position requires a strong, hardened hand to make steady each move forward, yours is the warmth sorely needed to keep spirits high, to bring your people together to embrace as one. a balance made perfect between loves.

quickly does a soldier take your newly made friend off to join the other survivors, leaving the two of you alone once more.

“are you well, my soul?” his hand outstretches, awaiting yours to take it. “it appears our work here is done.”

your hand hovers over his, uncertain. he needs no brows to raise at you to know something deeper has rattled you.

“i’ve found someone else.” you say, vocals shifting too low. you bring your hands up to fold over your chestplate, as if a heart struck with nerves resides there. “you must lend me your ears, beloved.”

at first thought ramattra finds it a strange request, for you well know that all he is belongs to you alone. on his second, he realizes your true plight in how your gaze remains downward in deference of what news you bring—it is no simple matter.

his fingers tilt your chin upwards, a gentle admonition. “speak your heart.”

“perhaps it is better to show you.”

metallic hands clank in a clasp to lead him towards a dust ridden building, windows shattered and cement scorched by fire, caked in soot. ruined rocks scrape beneath his feet. a scurry of pebbles scatter every which way. ramattra scans the surrounding landscape with cautious curiosity, unsure of what exactly awaits him.

it is then he hears the babbles.

up ahead, his optics zero in on a shambled door hanging off its hinges. a faint heat signature glows from inside its inner room, seemingly floating midair. instinctively ramattra slows his steps, but your grasp encourages movement forward until he reaches the doorway, taking in what you’ve lead him into.

a broken, lightless omnic sits stiff as death up against the wall, their arms still positioned protectively over a cradle in their lap. not long ago were they a servant build.

the cradle rocks slightly, little movements from inside restrained only by the omnic’s steadfast embrace. the same babbles fill the air, louder this time, accompanied by the peek of teeny human hands reaching up towards the omnic’s face.

ramattra is silent.

your glance back at him is hesitant, your voice soft. “it’s just a little babe. it knows nothing of this world, except love for one of our people.”

his gaze captures yours, but still he speaks not. was he allowing you to convince him? did he want to hear your reasoning? your eventual plea? you take it as such.

letting free his hand, you sit besides the cradle and shift it around, where a tiny face hides beneath a lacy blanket, now sullied with dirt. big brown eyes blink up at you, and small brown hands reach up to grab hold your chin, undisturbed by the metallic chill you emit. a gummy smile and sweet coos replace its babbling. awe resonates in your circuits, having never been so close to a living being as tiny as this.

careful of its flesh, your fingers dip into its sides to lift it from its cradle, a hand moving to hold the back of its head forward when you noticed its neck wasn’t strong enough. even from inception were humans truly fragile. swathed in its blanket, the child fit snugly within your newfound embrace. your unblinking eyes observe its quiet acceptance, then turn to its first friend to thank them for their sacrifice, bowing your head to promise the same for the child in your care.

you turn to your beloved in the hopes of viewing the same in him.

still silent, he watches you approach him once more to present the child. his fingers flex around his staff, instinctively more so than threatening.

“it should be with its kind.” ramattra begins in a tone tense, but open to continuing. “would it satisfy you to return it to them safely?”

“but what if its kind tries to convince it of prejudice? or hides how their life was protected by one of our people? my love, it is at peace with us now. perhaps…perhaps i can nurture this acceptance throughout its lifetime.” you do not miss the sharp flick of his head.

“please, ramattra. i do not wish to show this child cruelty, unlike its kind towards us. i wish to teach it acceptance of what our future could be. if humans view how we care for it…” you run a finger down its chubby cheek, spark swelling at its blustering smile, “perhaps it is the key in changing their perception.”

he returns to his silence, however thoughtfully you hoped he’d be. leaning in slightly, he watches the calm within the child’s eyes as you touch it. it did not escape him that you’ve already imprinted a sense of protection over it. it stirred his spark, more so than he’d preferred, but ramattra trusted you. he knew your promise would remain eternal, just as he knew he could never deny you your way.

at last, he heaved a long sigh. “you may care for it as best as you see fit.”

your own sigh of relief lightens your shoulders, profuse gratitude coming in the form of soft, sparkling kisses to his faceplate. “oh, my love, thank you, thank you.”

ramattra allows himself the indulgence, if only briefly. once more he spares a glance at null sector’s unexpected survivor and finds a giggling expression greeting him this time. his hesitance remains, even as you coo and speak softly at the child like its mother. without another word he wraps an arm around your waist to guide you back towards the airship, having already stayed behind long enough.

The sweet aroma of your jasmine tea is suddenly accompanied by the gentle beginning of a string orchestra. You can't help but fondly shake your head as you warm your hands on the steaming cup. Niran was never one for subtlety. Classical music always helped him focus.

And tonight, he needed his full attention.

On you.

Every inch of your would be worshipped. A tingle goes down your spine just thinking about it. You wait impatiently, knowing he likes to take his time to make everything just right. You can barely keep up this air of mysterious innocence but you know you're home free when soft lips meet the back of your neck and gentle hands guide you to the bedroom, clothes going missing along the way.

You brace yourself on the bedpost when he pulls you in for a burning kiss that didn't seem to go on for long enough since you chase his lips when he pulls away to leave a trail down never kissing where you wanted him. He worships your body in ways you never felt possible, you can't take your eyes off of his as he traces his way up your form, leaving love bites and goosebumps in his wake.

Your gentle whining and pleading are music to his ears as he continued. He gently guides you to bed, where he has you on edge for hours, knowingly witholding what you truly want. Not until he knows you're about to burst. When he finally gives in to your pleas for mercy, his long ivory locks tickle your chest as he holds you close. He can feel your breath right by his ear, just so he can hear every squeak, every moan, every breathy sigh of pleasure, his soft perfume consumes your senses as does the rest of him.

Sex with Niran was always a sweet symphony. From your collective sounds to the way your bodies interlocked, the light creaking of the bed beneath you, and the classical vinyl that serenaded you both to the height of pleasure. You were crazy to think he'd stop there. By the time the sun rose the next morning you were completely out of it. Covered in love bites, sweat, cum and exhausted as he gently guided you through your final orgasm.

❀ It’s pretty well known that Lifeweaver tends to be very flirtatious around his peers. It’s mostly brushed off as his way of platonic affection, however he really wanted you to notice that his little comments are the root of something more than that

❀ Meeting you was a pleasant surprise for him, he hadn’t fought with anyone who he simply couldn’t keep his eyes off of for a while. But there he was, watching you melee someone who nearly killed him—saving his life.

“Are you alright, Niran? You seemed to have frozen up while I was out there”

“Oh it’s nothing, in fact, I’ve never felt better..”

❀ When LW uses his Lifegrip on others he’d simply pull them closer to his area, no physical contact, however with you his method is much different. He’d pull you in so that your back graces his chest, as his hands softly hold your shoulders just for a moment. He had to make sure he knew that you were safe under his watch

“Careful, dear (Y/N)”

❀ LW gets excited when Sojourn goes over plans with the team. Not because of safety or anything, he just likes to stand next to you for a long period of time, grabbing quick glances of how pretty your face looks when you’re focused. If he’s lucky enough, you’ll rest your hand on the table, allowing him to do the same in order to link his pinky with yours. If you look over at him he seems to be quite focused at everything that’s being said, but he knows what he’s doing.

❀ Golden hour is one of his favorite times of the day, so imagine his excitement when he was able to spend that time with you. He could hardly contain himself, the sun kissing your face, absolute perfection.

“You’re doing it again..”

“Hm? Doing what?”

“Zoning out. You do it a lot, Niran.”

“Ah, I see. Would you like me to stop?”

“Well, it doesn’t exactly bother me..”

Cole Cassidy :

When you had met, it was in the infirmary. Cassidy had just gotten back from an extraction, and was shot in the leg. He had come into the office covered and blood and limping. You, being a doctor, of course ran to his side so he could lean on you. You drag him into an empty room, forcing him to lay down on a cot as he swears to you “It’s not that bad.”

His injury wasn’t bad, a wound easily fixed with your enhanced medical knowledge and skills. The cowboy takes note of your quick, precise work and mutters out some sort of praise, a flirtatious tone clinging to his words. You're caught off guard by this, for one, you had no idea who he is (Which makes sense, anyone who knows Cassidy isn’t fazed by his behavior), and two: you were never one to be complimented. 

Cassidy takes notice of your sudden tense frame and they way you slightly turn your head to hide the blush on your skin. He chuckles, flashing his teeth in a toothy grin as he thanks you again before jumping off the cot and leaving. You couldn’t even process what you were feeling, let alone remind him he needs to stay off his leg. You’ll send a quick text to Angela, she’ll let him know. Hopefully.

You’ll see him again after that, whether in the infirmary getting patched up, or just around the overwatch base. Over time you both become somewhat close, conversations become deeper, and interactions become longer. Sometimes you’ll go to his quarters just to lie around, and he’ll go to yours to do the same. And you even started responding to his flirting better, opting to joke back with him, thrilled whenever you get him wide eyed and blushing. It was comfortable.

The next time you encounter the cowboy: it’s directly on the battlefield. You weren’t new to fights, to war. You have experienced it many times. Even taken lives. But that doesn’t matter, because you’re here. Surrounded by gunshots and the sickening scent of blood and death. You’re hovering over Cassidy, his blood staining your hands and invading your senses. 

Your hands are heavy as they push into the large gash on Cassidy's side, your gaze uneasy as you meet the cowboy’s eyes. Unsurprisingly, he’s smiling, the same toothy grin you would witness nearly everyday. You’re unable to resist giving him your own smile back, even as tears pool in your eyes.

The tears roll down your cheeks when Cassidy gently cups your jaw in his hand. You sob when he shakily sits up and kisses you. He then proceeds to pass out, leaving you once again scared, but determined to help him. You quickly use the best of your ability to patch him up, which gives you time to call for help. When transportation arrives you are quick to load him up into the vehicle, strapping him down and taking vitals as the machine speeds back to base.

You make quick work properly healing Cassidy once you gain access to the right materials. A few hours pass and he’s stable and fast asleep on a hospital bed. Not once did you leave his side, pulling up a chair and holding his hand for a while. Reluctantly you pull back, busying yourself with fixing up his blood stained and crushed hat. Which was actually left at the battle site, but Angela had recovered it and brought it to you. You get the stains out and readjust it so it once again returns to its original shape. 

Unbeknownst to you, Cassidy had woken up and saw you, his heart immediately swelling up with joy as he watched you carefully fix his most prized possession. He can’t conceal his awareness much longer, barking out a slight laugh when you place the hat on your head. You nearly jump out your skin when you hear him, but are quickly giggling with him once you realize what’s going on.

You dote on him every step of the way during his recovery, which Cassidy absolutely adores. Though he hates when you wake up with an aching back, because you insisted on sleeping in a chair next to his bed. Of course the kiss is still on your mind, but you can’t tell if it was a deathbed type of thing or a genuine type of thing.

You get your answer when Cassidy fully recovers. You’re helping him to his room, even though he’s cleared to walk and exist on his own, you’re still incredibly worried. Cassidy practically drags you down onto the bed when you’re both inside the room. Your face is pressed into his chest, his arms wrapped incredibly tightly around you. You gasp out a breath and squirm slightly, adjusting yourself into a more comfortable position. Cassidy stares down at you, you up at him. And then he’s closer, and your eyes are closing and you can feel his beard against your face before your lips are finally pressed together.

You and him are then seen around base holding hands regularly.

Reaper / Gabriel Reyes :

You’re a medic in talon, specifically an understudy to Moira. Although you didn’t agree with her medical malpractice, Talon had offered you a large paycheck for your help at their base, and times are tough so. You meet Reaper a few months into your stay, though you did know who he was since he was high ranking and incredibly infamous. Luckily you steered clear.

Until today. Moira had called you into her room, complaining something in Irish as she paced around gathering materials. She turns to you and quickly starts talking about the situation. You barely are able to digest her words, your gaze focused on the unconscious man strapped to a table with wires hanging around his body. You snap out just in time to hear Moira explain to you there was an emergency and you were to watch over Reaper. 

You weren’t sure why you had to, he’s a grown man, but you just nod and sit in the spinny chair by her desk. Moira leaves without a goodbye, or an acknowledgement to your small wave. You stare at Reaper, admiring his features carefully. You even stand to walk around the square table he is placed on. He’s handsome, even with all the scars and the black puffs of smoke slowly seeping out of his body. It doesn’t deter you, instead intrigues you and you make a small glance to the files labeled in his name. But you resist the urge to snoop and plop yourself back into the spinny chair, huffing out a sigh as barely a minute has passed.  

Reaper woke up with a grunt, looking around groggily before his eyes landed on you. You pause as you're locked in what seems like a staring contest. You break the silence by quietly, nervously, explaining what Moira had told you. The parts you remembered at least. He huffs out a sigh, obviously upset by your presence. He soon speaks up, but it's a command for you to remove all the wires and iv’s from him. 

You trust he’s been through enough procedures to know what he’s doing. And you’re hopping off the stool to carefully remove all of the medical stuff from him. Reaper, although unmoving, furrows his brows at your attentiveness, you even wipe up the leaking blood from his skin when you remove an iv. He didn’t expect that, Moira doesn’t do that, and most people in Talon were dicks. So your kindness was.. Appreciated. Though he doesn’t thank you.

You step back once you're done, asking him if he’s alright or if he needs something. He dismisses you with a wave of his hand, and you nod slightly before once again returning to your seat. You both sit in silence, you honestly had no idea what to do, and every glance you take at the man is met with nothing. He’s unfocused, almost distant from reality. You’re startled when he speaks again, his voice is nice. 

Reaper asks your name, which you give quickly. He’s silent for once more, but opens his mouth to ask for you to turn around, he needs to get dressed. You nod and quickly swivel yourself around so you’re facing the cabinets, you close your eyes tightly as well. You can hear some shuffling and clothes being moved around. Even though his outfit was intricate, he was done quickly and mumbles something so you know it's safe to turn around.

When you do, he’s fully suited up and at the door. You ask him if he’s allowed to go, and he just nods before stepping out. You're left alone in the room, and utterly confused on what your purpose was in the first place. Sure, you helped with the iv’s and stuff, but it felt… uneventful. Something that you thought wouldn’t be possible around the renowned Reaper. 

You see him again, in a hallway. But he’s hunched over, a clawed hand clutching on the wall so tight, you can see the paint is peeling and flaking off where it’s being gripped. Reaper’s breathing is lapsed, short, and pained. You know he knows you’re there, and as you approach him and crouch down, his mask is tilted towards you. You keep some distance, not yet comfortable with the murder machine in front of you. 

You ask if he’s okay. And what you can do to assist him. Like before, he’s quiet, save for his uneven breath. Reaper then speaks, though you can tell it’s through his teeth as his voice is strained. He tells you to stand up, and although you’re confused, you do. He then grabs onto your leg, which causes you to tense up. But you don’t fight it when you realize he’s using you as leverage. He starts to stand, grunting in pain as he hoists himself up. You help him more, grabbing onto his arm (You feel him stiffen, but you ignore it) and pull him up, urging him to lean onto you for more stability.

He does, albeit with an annoyed sigh. Through grit teeth he gives you directions to his room. You two hobble through the thankfully empty halls, and arrive at his door. You help him sit on the bed and ask him questions on his wellbeing. Reaper wishes you would just be quiet, and through his pain hazed mind he takes a hand and places it over your mouth. The sheer size of his clawed hand covers most of your face, and you are rightfully spooked into silence. 

He explains his bouts of pain, and how there is no long term relief. He lays down, taking off his mask to inhale more air. You’ve already seen his face, so he can’t really care anymore. You feel awful knowing you can’t help him, so you just sit there quietly watching over him. Which is not something you thought you would do. Neither did he. 

After that experience you would find him in more spots like this, and each and every time you would help him back to his room and watch over him. Sometimes he would ask you for something, a pillow, water, his phone. Through time, a lot of time, you two would begin in conversation. Though it was quiet and usually didn’t last long. You grew to enjoy his snarky responses and overconfident claims.

Reaper was shocked when he found himself missing your presence, and that realization quickly spiraled into him rethinking the entire relationship. Once he comes to terms with this newfound information (He broke most things in his room in a confused rage.) He seeks you out in the medical area, grabbing you by your collar and dragging you back to his room. You were incredibly confused, but you went along with it thinking he is having another pain episode.

The first thing Reaper says to you is to disregard the state of his room. You quirk a brow at the destruction but do not question it. Too focused on the half dead man still dragging you further into the room. He lets go and plops himself down on his bed, discarding his mask to the side and staring at you with his usual blank expression. You stare back with a nervous smile, waiting for him to say anything that would help you understand what was going on.

He beckons you over with a finger, and you slowly move towards the bed in front of him before sitting beside him, looking up at him with a confused look. He just stares for a bit, taking in your features before he proudly proclaims that you two are now dating. And to seal the deal he plants a chaste kiss to your brow. You are stunned, utterly gobsmacked as your jaw literally drops in awe. But you close it quickly to smile and place your own kiss to his cheek. Holding onto him tightly.