Overwatch x Reader

McCree x Reader: Cold Tension Part Two

I had to google search how to make a fire with wet wood for this fanfic.

Y/N POV:

Russia's winters were brutal, just like Zarya said. The only exposed skin was the tip of my nose, and I could barely feel it. It sucked that there was nothing to take my mind off of the cold weather. McCree hasn't muttered a thing since we started hiking. The only thing you can hear is the sound of the snow crunching as we continue to walk into the woods. Then, my stomach growled. It had been only three hours since we started walking, with little breaks in between. I didn't want to let the spare food in my bag go to waste, so I decided against snacking. The one time I don't snack and I deeply regret it as McCree stops in his tracks, turns towards me.

"You hungry?" He asks blandly.

"Yea." I nodded. I'm trying to remain on his good side for the majority of this trip. But it feels like I'm walking on eggshells every time I'm near him. I haven't been this anxious since my first training session.

Instead of criticizing me, he just pulls up the corner of his sleeve to look at his watch. "It's a quarter after 5. About time we made camp."

The sun was going to set soon, so we settled for a small clearing that gave us enough room to put down Reinhardt's tent. With a press of a button, it unfolded into a tent that was a decent size. The height of the tent made it pretty obvious it was Reinhardt's, the width was enough to put our sleeping bags onto but it was going to feel like we were sharing a king size bed. Nothing like sleeping next to the person that hates you the most.

"You can go fetch us some firewood, while I go catch us some game." He says while holding onto the handle of his six-shooter.

"Or we could just eat what I have in my bag." I suggested.

He seemed pretty unscathed with his mind set on his plan. "I'll pick meat over any kind of granola bar in your bag."

I let out a sigh, so much for trying to make a suggestion. "Fine." I walked out of the campsite and deeper into the trees. He's so fucking annoying, always trying to do things his way.

Pulling out my travel knife, I started to chisel away at the thick sticks that stuck out of the trunks of the trees. I tried my best to calm down as I cut away at the branches, but I'm still worried about the mission. This could all fall apart because of McCree's stupid pride. He has to be the one making all the decisions and make me feel like a rookie. I've been here for a year, I know how things work by now. No one needs to tell me what to do; he should be lucky that I'm even getting firewood.

When I gathered enough sticks, I started to peel away at the wood. The branches were relatively wet from the snow that fell down earlier. If there was any chance of starting a fire, it would require dry wood. As I carved away the damp bark, my mind went back to Tracer's bet. Was what she said true? And if that's the case, maybe that's why McCree wanted to hunt his dinner. To impress me with his hunting skills and show off how resourceful he is with nature. Or maybe he just wanted a break from walking with me for far too long. I know I needed a break from him. There must be something I'm overlooking if the only person that dresses like he's cosplaying John Marston has a crush on me. But as far as I can remember, the only remotely nice thing he did was deciding to set up camp when I was hungry. Still doesn't change his rude demeanor. Tracer must have been pulling my leg when she made that bet. She probably just wants dessert and for me to find someone to start a relationship with. It must have stemmed from my drunken confession that I never dated anyone before and my own anxieties about starting a new relationship. I thought she would be too drunk to remember, and yet here we are with a bet on the line based on the outcome of this mission.

With the wood all peeled, I carried the various sticks toward the camp. Hopefully, he wasn't there by the time I got there. Surprisingly enough, he wasn't. Thank goodness. The last thing I wanted right now was to deal with him critiquing the way I stacked the firewood together. I stacked up the wood into a nice pile to provide enough air to dry out the wood enough to make a nice fire. When I lit up the neat pile of wood with a match from my bag, the tiny flame ate up the exposed lumber. A little flame grew into a nice fire by the time McCree showed up. His hat hid his face well, since I couldn't really see his reaction and his lips always looked like they were in a state of eternal frowning. In one hand, he held up some kind of meat. I tried to keep my questions to myself, putting my bag down to grab the spit roaster. Lena decided to lend it to me for this mission. Putting the two metal poles into the ground securely, I gave McCree the skewer for the meat. He mumbled a "thanks" and stabbed the meat with the metal pole; hanging it over the fire as he slowly moved it around.