#Lol Greeter's a little gross I love that for her

[sergeantnarwhalwrites]

Cosma and Greeter

So I had an idea XD. I like some parts more than others. These two are from the hiatus-d story. And arguably a little different from the source material but I don't give a fuck. I'm brain dead like hell overwatch and job applications took my soul and I just let it.

Tag list: @outpost51 @nanashi23 @winterandwords @jezifster @kk7-rbs @aether-wasteland-s @dumbthunder @manathen @the-void-writes @livums (Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist!) 

Cw: Suggestive

Cosma ran her fingers over the overgrowth of the once cleanly shaven parts of her head. Scratching at an imagined itch with barely there nails. A spare blade in her hand, freshly sharpened a couple times over in her hesitation. She’d go red in embarrassment explaining herself if her skin weren’t already a deep red of the bitter fruit a crew member had threatened her over for eating. 

She knew Greeter would’ve taken the blade by now. Slashed haphazardly at her hair, drawing blood when Cosma flinched in her tight grasp. And scolding her in that voice that bounced off of every surface with ease as she dabbed at the blood with her strong hands. Commanding that Cosma lick the blood off of her fingers. ‘So none of the blood’s wasted. Supplies are low until the next raid.’ Her face twisted as she imagined it. Feeling the minor twitch at the corner of her mouth. 

An uneven breath struggled to carry her worries. Taking the blade as close to the scalp as she could, she began to cut in short bursts. Slowly clearing away the hair block by block until she could see color peaking through. She dusted the hair off the blade with the tattered fabric she had draped over her shoulders and submerged it into one of the medicated solutions in the room. Cleaning up the cut until the pigment devoted to her false idol was visible again. Lazy swirls of violet and green exposed. 

Chewing on her tongue as she repeated the process on the other side of her head. Keeping her ponytail in its binding. She dipped her hand into the same cup she had placed the blade in, running her hand through the relatively short mohawk left remaining. Allowing it to flop pathetically. 

“You still mourning over hair you didn’t need?” Greeter called through the door, then swinging it open without invitation. 

“It’s not the hair,” Cosma replied occupying herself with cleaning the blade distractedly.

Greeter’s nostrils flared, grinning a bit goofily. Cosma had always thought it was from her underbite. Maybe it was the canines that showed themselves off far more proudly than usual. They had always looked prettier bloody than in the room’s lights. Something about the light glinting off was far more imposing. 

“Your holy tattoos are relics to a dead idiot. Who cares? At least they’re cool.” Greeter failed to hold in a laugh when pinpricked pupils focused on her. 

“I killed my own god,” Cosma said. 

“We killed a monster. Something in our way.” Greeter corrected. 

Cosma slipped the blade into a holster at her side. Not having her crossed harness over her chest. Neither did Greeter. They wouldn’t need them for the fights they’d get into tonight. 

“I watched it breathe its last breath with your dagger in its primary heart. Like I hadn’t called to it and thanked it for letting me kill its rivals.”

“That thing was no deity. The only thing holy about it was how it tasted.” Greeter wiped the drool dribbling down her chin with the back of her hand, “I warned you about getting attached to those monsters. I never thought you’d be so easy.”

Cosma’s palm met Greeter’s nose. Making the woman tense in surprise at the hit. Shoving the woman’s face away from her as she smiled dryly. She squeezed through the gap she had made, sure to shove her elbow into Greeter’s side along the way. A little more agitated that the grunt of pain didn’t make her feel as better as she thought it would. 

“You don’t wear the mark of someone you’ve devoted your life to.” 

Greeter let a silence build, tossing back the cup of medicated whatever the fuck, spitting the hair into the empty cup. She rubbed her somewhat aching nose with the palm of her hand, snorting. She waited until Cosma’s back bumped into the wall, releasing a metal frame, bound together with stray bandages and hardware stolen from the forge of their old crew. The sound of Cosma shaking out the rollout briefly filling the silence. 

Greeter tilted her head down a protruding canine catching the collar. She tugged her head up both piercing the material and lifting it. Exposing an expanse of dark red skin, scars, and graying hair. Not as silvery as the hair on her head. 

“Then you spit in my face as a soldier.” 

Cosma grunted at Greeter’s statement watching as Greeter slowly approached. Cosma only distinguished it from prowling by the way she kept her hands within her wrappings. Greeter watched Cosma’s eyes dip to follow the sinking fabric exposing her hips. Greeter’s hands purposefully dragging it down a bit further. Her forehead wrinkled at a brief thought as she grabbed the rollout from Cosma. Placing it cautiously on the frame, sure to put the more worn part on Cosma’s side. 

“And you spit in my face as your crew member and essentially second in command. Or is assistant better?” Cosma continued rubbing a hand over the gray hair on her muscled arms, “This scar I got when one of those standard issue blades from our old crew broke and flew straight at me.” 

Greeter reached over the rollout, grabbing Cosma’s hand. She ran the other fighter’s hand over a crooked scar on Greeter’s arm. Attempting to grin around her canines at the rough pads of Cosma’s fingers. 

Greeter guided Cosma’s hand to a spot between her ribs, “And this one is from one of our missions together. We both got stabbed even though I was trying to block it.” 

Greeter and Cosma’s hands moved in unison to Greeter’s still covered thigh. Greeter reached beneath the fabric with her free hand. Undoing a knot before unwinding the cloth around her thigh. Cosma and Greeter’s hand rested on top of another scar, pretty clean looking in comparison to others scattered across her body. 

“And this one is when you stabbed me—” Greeter laughed, finding herself snorting a little, “When you were drugged more than the beasts in containment. Think I’ve proven my point?” 

Cosma rolled her eyes, running her thumb along Greeter’s inner thigh, “Thanks for the devotion.” 

“I’m way better than some fake god. Show me some devotion.” 

Cosma’s hand wandered until a pleased grumble of praise fell from Greeter’s lips. 

“You’re no better than a ‘fake god.’” Cosma smiled dryly feeling the twitch of muscle in Greeter’s leg when she tightened her grip, “You’re ruining the moment.” 

“We’ve—” Greeter hesitated then, but only for a moment, “—Mingled together after worse conversations. Worse states. Stenches. All that stuff. A little honesty taking away the spark?” 

“What makes you so much better? You still cave to rough hands working over you like any other.”

“So you’re saying your false idols never got any. Whatever. That’s not why I’m better. I’m better because of how many I’ve killed. How much of their blood I’ve tasted.” 

Cosma would take the smile as mockery if the woman’s eyes weren’t glazing over. She worked the woman roughly, focusing her irritation on a body that could handle it. Irritated further at Greeter’s tongue lolling out of her mouth lazily, demonstrating just what her tongue had done. She’d probably do the same to Cosma if she said the right thing. Even exposed the woman had fucking audacity and in the hands of a woman who had also killed. Though Cosma could only handle Greeter’s opinions for so long, she wouldn’t allow another to annoy her so easily. 

“Don’t know if that counts.” 

Greeter bit down on her tongue for a moment. Head tilted to the side as she egged Cosma’s hand on. A slow roll of her hips as she growled. Either for the stubbornness or the pleasure she craved. Cosma didn’t know but the idea of either did amuse her. She let Greeter’s hand toss the fabric over her shoulders aside. 

“Not important. Move your hand faster.” Greeter said beneath her breath, “Getting rid of obstacles is a part of having your own crew. Just because some ‘diety’ is dead doesn’t mean you can’t still respect it.” 

Greeter’s fingers followed the swirls on Cosma’s head lazily. Permanent. She could always try scarring over it but it was more work than it was worth. She praised Cosma at the urgency she followed the request. 

“I don’t have enough respect for the whole squad.” 

“As if it matters. You probably still mumble under your breath to that bastard anyway.” 

“And you’re somehow still talking.” 

Greeter rolled her eyes but didn't fully dismiss the statement either. She lifted Cosma's face, placing a kiss between her eyes. Careful not to jab Cosma with her teeth. Cosma focused on the fellow soldier leaning more into her touch. Smiling when Greeter put her mouth to better use. Letting her glinting canines trail along a few of Cosma’s scars.