Betrayal Never Comes from the Enemy
Assassin Xyx / Assassin MC - Rivals with undeniable tension
hello don’t talk to me i am experiencing a continuation based on this ask robo answered with only violent intentions toward yellow flaired xyx enjoyers. a warning? I guess? it’s saucy spicy ooh la la, not scandelously so but enough to get your fingertips a little tingly y’know?
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When he shifts, you felt him underneath you- you felt all of him. Your straddled position over the top of him left little room between hot, adrenaline trembling bodies, and when he flexed his fingers into your hips you were all too keenly aware that should you sit your weight down a little harder and sink into him, a line would be crossed.
The dagger to his throat beads scarlet red droplets, and you unconsciously ease the pressure at the sight, despite your training.
Your eyes search his face as if the green in his eyes will suddenly answer why you feel so compelled by him. If anything, those eyes are the biggest part of the problem; all mischief and taunting.
He knew now not to speak, he’d said his piece. No, Xyx left it in your hands to make the decision: would you continue this game of cat and mouse, dancing around one another with a knife to each back, or finally give in to the feeling that only suffocated every time you cross paths? He’d given you the challenge: “Go on, do it,” rang in your head, as if you are weak should you not follow through. Who knows, perhaps you would be.
Yet there’s something about his hands on your hips, his thumbs then moving to draw painfully slow circles into them, and the relaxed state of his body beneath yours, that made you think maybe…maybe you could risk it. You wanted to spit warnings and venom; “if you try to kill me it will end poorly for you.” But you couldn’t. Instead, the push you had on the dagger fully lifted and without tearing your eyes from his, you threw it away, arm outstretched behind you and realisation sinking between you both. The startle in his eyes was not missed, no matter how short lived or concealed it was. There wasn’t the expectation you’d relent to his opportunistic flirtation so quickly.
You let your weight fall back, as if to sit on your heels, but finding yourself instead perched atop him. Your hips pressed into his, and the pressure of him against you arrested your breathe within your throat. Eyes fluttered against your will, a heat bubbling and sizzling within your skin, getting hotter by the second. Xyx sighed at the contact and shifted once more, rolling himself into you slightly, and a gasp was punched from your lungs at the feeling. You didn’t dare look away from him, you knew better than to allow that much vulnerability, but in your own haze you failed to notice the way his cheeks washed with crimson colour.
“This is foolish,” you murmured, your voice agonised and torn apart between what should be and what you want. He didn’t have the chance to respond though, as you dove down and captured his lips with yours. Aggression riled his mind and he kissed back with as much fervent desperate need. It was a long time coming, an undeniable build up that was bound to be explosive upon impact.
Teeth nipped at your bottom lip, tongue swiped at his lip piercings, and slight, airy moans filled the battle torn room you shared. His hands ran up the length of you, your own travelling up along Xyx’s chest. It heaved with deep, uneven breaths, even as you pushed up to break the intimate moment and look down at him with half lidded lust. He set alight such a pure anger, that toed the line and tipped into bursts and flourishes of desire.
You finally sat up, the both of you panting, and looked down upon his body where he lay collecting his breath, almost as if in admiration, either of what you could do to him or what the two of you were experiencing; where your hands sat on his chest, his hold firm on your hips, the tanglement of his hair sticking to the sweat on his forehead, the shaking red spec of light that adorned your…adorned your chest…
It took almost too long to understand, but your eyes widened just as big as his seemed to simultaneously. Pushing off him to gather momentum, you dodged to the side and rolled from him, a little clumsily, and immediately shoved any thought of his touch mapping more of your body away violently. The burst of wall debris rang out in another aimed snipe directed at your body, and once it did, he immediately pushed himself to sit, leaning on his hands and meeting your gaze. There was a hectic nature to his movements, as if the oh so great agent Xyx had somehow been caught off guard by his own plans. Perhaps he had been, after looking to you.
You looked…hurt. Betrayed. It’s impossible to be betrayed by an enemy, he thought to himself often, as you expect all malicious intent they ever harbour. You were his enemy, probably expecting something like this, and still…why did an ache bloom in his chest at the distance between you? Why did he grieve the loss of your body so pressed up against his? Why had the sudden shot from his partner made him panic?
Why did he so dearly wish he could pull you back in and forget the world, wipe away all the hurt you wore in a vulnerable moment just for him?
“Wait, I didn’t know-“ he started, reaching out.
You were not having any of it. Steeling your face and imprisoning away any semblance of emotion, you snatched up the discarded dagger and began running away, from him, from yourself, from the person you had become in those moments.
He didn’t follow. What could he say? He didn’t mean it? He did. He had to. Because if he admitted he didn’t mean it, he admitted he didn’t want you dead, and admitted he was ready to actively go against his mission, his work. That would not end well for either you nor him. Especially not for you.
Instead he touched his lips and tried to memorise the feeling of yours, wondering when next he’d taste the sweet forbidden sin from your mouth.