Overwatch x Reader

McCree x Male

Warning, warning. This has been nerfed from a lemon to a fluff. I am incapable of writing a lemon.

Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang. You heard the sound of shells hitting the ground, the whirring of the revolver chamber
popping out of the weapon to be reloaded. Another click and more gunshots rang out. A couple minutes later, once you were done admiring his shooting, you heard the familiar click of his boots as they exited the shooting range.

"How was my shootin'?" He said, not even giving you a look as he put away his revolver. Typical. No one treated you seriously since you were just a recruit.

"Alright." You muttered, venom oozing from your voice. You looked down at your own pistol, a futuristic version of a Colt 45.

"Alright? As if you can do better." He snapped back, this time glaring at you.

"Oh I can." You said smugly, your arms were crossed. You blinked, and as soon as you opened your eyes you heard a click and felt cool metal rub against your temple.

"Bang. You just died. Now we wouldn't want that now would we." He pulled his gun away from your head, and you stood there frozen. Suddenly, your cheeks turned red, not sure of embarrassment or of how close your soon-to-be-comrade was to you.

"D-don't ever do that again." You stammered.

"Oh please, or what? You'll kill me? You can barely handle yourself, how can you handle a man?" He chuckled, looking at you from under his hat.

"I'm perfectly capable!" You stormed out of the shooting range, rounding a corner before crouching down and watching McCree shoot a couple more dummies. They all fell over with a thud.

"You gone and made him angry, great job McCree." You heard him mutter. Bang, bang, bang, more shells hit the ground. "Now he's -"

You heard someone open the door to the shooting range, a long with loud footsteps.

"What's wrong my friend? Does the cat have your tongue?" Reinhardt roared, accompanied by laughter.

"Nah, it's (Y/N), he's so hard headed... He thinks he can handle himself but he obviously can't." McCree threw his hands into the air, obviously feeling temperamental. "He's just a kid." His voice became lower, more emotion seeping into his voice.

"Well you have an obvious case of love, my friend! You feel strongly for him? No? You feel the need to protect him! I understand, there was a girl in my town... Ah! But never mind that!" Reinhardt laughed, clapping his hand on McCree's back. He winced at the contact, you decided to return. Is this true? Does he really love me?

You entered the shooting range, your pistol in hand. You whipped around looking at the eight targets presented in front of you. Bang, bang, bang, bang, you rolled forwards before rising on one knee and taking the rest of the targets down. You straightened, turning around to face McCree who is approaching.

"How about that?" You looked up at your mentor, standing head to head, or, head to chest.

"Alright," he said with a little impressed look on his face, his head was slightly tilted. "But not as good as this." He wrapped his arms around you, placing one hand on the top of your spine and another near the small of your back. Picking you off of the floor so you can meet his lips. You were hesitant at first, but you relaxed into it. He tasted of cigars and bourbon, okay flavor, you guess.

At the end of the kiss you were gasping for breath like a fish out of water, which McCree grinned to.

"Young love! I remember my first kiss. She had such beautiful braids..." Reinhardt laughed, way to ruin the moment.

"Wanna go somewhere more private, darlin'?

"Oh I'd love to." You responded before waltzing out of the room with McCree.

"Was it something I said?"

A/N: cheeZy with a capital Z, meh, it's okay, I'm feeling like my stories are getting worse. I'll keep on practicing, I'm a bit rusty. Oh well, hope you guys enjoy!