Fated (Bloodhound x Eve (OC))

Hurt

"Look at you, so desperate for my attention. Should I bend you over my knee right here and let the others see what a naughty girl you are?"

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Eve sat on the bed, legs dangling over the edge, waiting for Bloodhound to finish wrapping her ankle. The hunter knelt before her and carefully circled brightly colored athletic tape around the joint to support it during the match today. They had snagged a few rolls of purple and pink wrap from Ajay, knowing that Eve would prefer the vibrant colors to the usual tan or olive green that they kept on hand.

Bloodhound sighed as they worked, examining her ankle. The bruising had subsided substantially, but they noticed the wince when she stepped a certain way, the subtle change to her walk. Over the last few days, they had tried to convince her to use one of her sick days to skip today's match. They had even stayed in bed with her longer than normal this morning, trying to persuade her with sweet kisses and grazing fingertips, promises of more if she heeded their advice. The wounds sustained during a game were painful but temporary, easily healed by syringes and medkits, but any injuries the Legends had when they entered remained and could worsen. Bloodhound knew the risk of overexerting one's body, had seen and experienced the consequences of pushing through past the point of injury. Eve listened to their warnings, said she understood, but adamantly refused to sit this one out.

As she looked down at them wrapping her ankle in hot pink, and smiled softly. It was cute how concerned they were for her, the lengths they went to care for her. Sometimes it was still hard to believe that she was here, spending her days and nights with Bloodhound. They were a fierce opponent in battle, every muscle in their body hardened from countless fights, rigorous training, and hunting. She had witnessed their power up close, the way they could hack through enemies with unsettling ease, run and climb with unbelievable speed, and effortlessly drag an entire deer carcass home to butcher for their meals.

As small as Eve was, she knew they could easily hurt her, break her — probably without even breaking a sweat — but they handled her with surprising tenderness. At least, other than when they punished her. They rarely went easy on her during corrections now that they both had explored and tested her limits. A delicious mix of fear and desire slithered down her spine that coiled low within her tummy at the thought. She'd been well-behaved these past few days, bored from her time cooped up in the cabin, and knew that she was long overdue to cause a little mischief. today was a good day for it.

"Are you certain you wish to participate in the Games today?" Bloodhound asked again as they pulled and tucked in the end of the wrap. It was a snug fit, sure to hold for the day.

She smiled as reassuringly as possible. "Yep! I'm sure." She wiggled her foot from side to side to show them that she had full range of motion. "See?"

"Very well." They smiled and patted her thigh affectionately as they rose.

Eve gingerly stepped into the closet and slipped on her boots, picking a heavier pair today, sturdy enough to brace her ankle. She laced them up as snugly as she could. A minor injury like this wasn't bad enough to take the day off, but she wanted to take any possible precautions, if only to ease Bloodhound's concerns. With only a limited amount of days she could request off, it seemed better to save them for real emergencies. They moved past her to grab their own equipment and clipped on their respirator, goggles, and helm. They flipped the concentrator on, the machinery emitting a quiet, high-pitched whine that evened out to the faint hum of the filter that she barely noticed these days, so used to the noise.

Bloodhound bent to grab their boots, recently brushed clean and relaced. Eve giggled and rushed behind them. She grabbed their hips and bumped her pelvis against their bottom, almost knocking them off balance into the row of hanging flannel shirts before them. They righted themself and turned around, dwarfing her as they stepped forward, trapping her against the wall between their arms and immovable form. If they were trying to intimidate her, they'd have to try harder than that.