Bloodhound x Fem reader one shots / Drabbles

Join Me

Word Count: 3006

Context here? Why yes of course,

- Bloodhound and the reader are previously friends, and hook up after a little drinking, but they run into a slight problem that leads to them having tension.
- Overdramatic, yes, of course! Is it plausible? Meh
-Being 100% here, I didn't know what to title this. I get an F for creativity lol.

Join Me

The question came abruptly, and it was unavoidable in their isolation where no one could interrupt.

-The temptation to speak of it had been far too great to ignore.

The abandoned building had fallen silent save for the labored breathing of the woman on the ground who stared wide-eyed at the legend that stood victorious, the beastial glow that had emitted from them slowly sedated as their enemies fell.

"Our enemies have met their end," they informed (F/n) while their own breath became more controlled, the accelerated beating of their heart mellowing as they brought their sight down to their fallen teammate who seemed to have nothing to offer but a look of humility, moreso dejection.

" (f/n) mín, " Bloodhound said with just a touch of exasperation.

They didn't need to chide her more beyond that simple breath, as it was something they both understood.

They expected better from her, not to see her so easily defeated and watching from the ground, and as for (f/n), she felt disappointed enough with herself, frustrated beyond reason.

Carefully, the standing legend leaned down, ready to aid (F/n) when she made an unexpected move.

She suddenly shifted in a manner that seemed rather unsettled, and the way she looked aside only added more evidence to the assumption that she wanted no contact with them.

A low, discontented hum left Bloodhound before they bit their bottom lip, the soft flesh caught in between the sharp ends for longer than a ten-second mark, the hunter thinking, contemplating what to proceed with.

They should tread carefully, they could simply ignore it, and yet... the subtle nature was disregarded as they yearned to ask,

"Am I... not allowed you touch you?" They asked, their eyes cast away from her face, instead pointed aside as they made certain to keep a watchful eye out for any opposing teams.

Partially, it was an act of cowardice as they asked the question the only way they could, by hiding.

It was not like them at all, and yet, (f/n) brought out a side unknown, a side that unsettled them and made them all too soft and weak, afraid to ask and tell certain things.

The certainty they held normally had wavered and it was notable through the soft timbre in their voice,

"I must know..." They added.

Taking liberties of their own, or morso greediness on their part, Bloodhound placed a hand at her shoulder, the soft squeeze that they proceeded with a contrast to the one they'd given them not that long ago.

-Everything reminded them of (f/n) and it was woeful, taunting in many senses.

At the contact, it was as though sparks danced between the two before traveling in every direction they could invade, bringing forth memories locked in Bloodhound's chest.