Gift Details ♥
Reader Style: cisfem
Character: Rob Lucci
Vibe: NSFW Consensual
AU: Soul Mates
Prompt: Erotically Charged Fight 

Summary: You've experienced the worst side of Soul Mates being a reality - your long term relationship had found their soul mate and left you. So you dove into martial arts as a means of distraction.
Lucky (?) for you, it's what causes you to finally meet your soul mate.

Content Notes: canon levels of violence, oral, rough sex, mentions of blood, cream pie

This birthday party is 18+, consensual unless explicitly stated otherwise, and BYOB

There wasn't a protocol for this, but even if there was, Lucci wasn't certain that it would do him any good.

His initial attack failed. Whether by dumb luck, or your own skill, he'd missed. That had become a problem. In this world, with its rules, and his job, he had to eliminate his target with the first strike. Anything less invited a terrible risk, and of all the statistical possibilities, that risk came true with you.

Your eyes were wide with fear as you tumbled away. The way you got back to your feet left him with the distinct and sudden impression that you hadn't been merely lucky.

Realization marred your beautiful face, as he was sure it was twisting his.

Soul mates.

Lucci hadn't given the concept much thought. With his job, with his skills, with the blood on his hands, what right did he have to consider something as pure as love? And beyond even that was the very laughable idea of soul mates.

He'd never loved anything save himself, and even that love was cruel.

All of his arrogance, all of his sureness - everything was used for the government. There was nothing of him to be concerned with. Nothing to stop him from doing the tasks required of him, whether it was years under cover, or a few days spent stalking some poor hapless fool.

Looking at the man who had invited himself into your home, you feel a powerful conflict of emotions. How dare he come in uninvited! How dare he mean to kill you!

HOW DARE HE BE YOUR SOUL MATE!

Everyone had one. The curse of this world, as far as you were concerned. Because while everyone had at least one, no one was promised to find theirs. There were no red strings of fate to guide people, no services provided by the government to help you find yours. Nothing but the cold hard truth of it, and nothing to protect you from simply falling in love.

It was your broken heart that had distracted itself by learning how to fight. It was sorrow of a love lost to the very concept of soul mates that you had honed your skills with all the fervor of a desperate monk. That you could dedicate yourself to a love that would never find another damnable soul mate.

That love had saved your life when the chill of death ran up your spine moments earlier and bade you move.

And it saved you for this? For your soul mate?

"You bastard!" You growl, charging at the stunned assassin. You knew he was reeling just like you should be. Whatever state he was in, he didn't have your rage, and it shook off the powerful desires threatening to crack your bones.

He dodges the strike, but barely. You feel strands of his hair slip through your fingers as you pivot. Shock twists to something akin to confusion on his face, and he bats away another swing. He seems ready to attack you, but his body stutters, and the confusion on his face turns to anger as you lash out again, forcing him to take another step back.

"How?!" He growls, grabbing your wrist at the end of a series of punches. His grip is locked like iron, and you can't escape it, but somehow it's still gentle. You understand he could break it easily, but he's not even trying.

"Why now!" You roar. "Why years too late?! Bastard!" You repeat, stepping in and driving your free hand into his stomach. Whether the words, or the bold movement, something caught him off guard enough to force the air from him.

His grip on your wrist loosens and you pull it free. "You asshole!"

You hear him growl, more like a beast than a man, and as he straightens there's no more confusion in his eyes. He matches your strikes, knocking your blows aside and dodging your attacks with a fluidity he hadn't shown in his shocked state. Irritation is written plainly on his handsome face, and anger swells in you again as you start to realize you can't best him.

Anger, but no fear. You're not sure why. He tried to kill you - he can kill you! You should be afraid.

Once he sorts out the rhythm of your fighting style, he draws you in. Lucci's too experienced to be concerned about someone with just a couple years of fighting under their belt, but there's a strange feeling of pride in his gut. You're not bad. At the very least your instincts make up for what you lack in skill, and that's what put you both in this predicament.

Getting both your wrists this time he turns you, folding them behind your back and pinning you roughly against the wall. You try to kick yourself away from it, but he forces your leg to the side and puts his knee right between your thighs, using his height to nearly lift you off the floor.

"Ahhhhnngh ❤️!" Your euphoric cry causes both of you to freeze.

"..."

"The hell was - nnnnnnngh!!" He pressed his knee into your crotch again and you couldn't supress the jolt that went through you.

"What a pleasant sound." He leans against you, cheek pressed against your head as he holds you in place. His breath is hot against your ear. "Far better than before."

He pulls you up enough to tease his lips against your neck, making you shiver and moan softly. Letting go of your wrists he puts his hands on the wall on either side of you, keeping you effectively pinned.

You have enough space to turn and face him, and maybe it's a mistake to do so.

Grabbing the collar of his shirt you pull him in, or he allows you to, or you will him to allow you. Who cares, his lips against yours are a flood of pleasure and heat. You don't let yourself think about it, about everything leading up to this. The rollercoaster of emotions was too much and you let your desires guide you.

He pulls his shirt off when your hands tug it up. The shift of his muscles, the lines of scars, the deep ink of tattoos, everything was known to you, and everything left you wanting more. You pulled at his belt as he tossed the shirt aside. He interrupts your attempts, pulling your shirt off and tossing it aside.

Your clothing is barely shed enough to be out of the way. He pulls you into another kiss, unhooking your bra and leaving you to take it off as he yanks his troublesome belt free.

The metallic clatter barely registers. Heavy, heated kisses are trailing down your stomach as he crouches down in front of you. You weave your fingers through his hair while he tugs your pants down and away. One leg, and then the other, he hooks your thighs with his arms and lifts you easily, pressing your back into wall as his mouth dives into your pussy.

Your fingers tighten in his hair and you cry out into the air. Trapped between him and the wall there's no escaping the demanding man between your thighs. Heavy searching licks note every sound and twitch and it only takes him a couple minutes to have you shivering from his actions.

His tongue's buried in your pussy and you don't even know his name yet.

Holding onto his hair you push yourself into his face as your pleasure crests. There's no reason to hold back, and he laps up every second of your messy pleasure. Sharp eyes cut through your hazy gaze and he brings you down slowly, keeping your ankles at his shoulders as the tip of his hard, thick cock pushes against your dripping hole.

"Say it," he commands, pressing against you. He's desperate and half mad, but he seems to be holding back as much as he can.

You shift, looking at the beast between your thighs before looking back up at him. "Please."

He pushes in, just the tip, and you moan, hands against the back of his neck. "Lucci," he says, and you gasp, groaning as he pulls back out.

You don't have to be soul mates to know what he wants.

"Please, Lucci," you mean to say more, but apparently all he wanted on your lips was his name. Pushing into you he devours your gasp of pleasure, kissing you deeply. Hands gripping your ass, he holds you steady as he takes you, barely giving you time to breathe or think.

Heavy thrusts, rough husky gasps falling from his lips that crash into your skin, hot and deep as the cock threatening to split you in half. There's little more than pleasure in the harsh treatment, the pressure of the wall against your skin is a dull, useless ache you can't be bothered to recognize. The sting of sharp nails digging into your ass as he fucks you against the wall are ticklish compared to the dizzying heat of his hungry and demanding kisses.

Lucci nearly bites into your neck when he finally releases your lips. You're sure the frantic hold you have on him is trickling blood down his back, as the second orgasm slams into you. Every brush of his skin against yours feels amazing, every brush of his breath against your sweaty skin has you nearly crying for relief. Your orgasm causes his, and you can feel him twitching deep inside you, pressing you shakily against the wall as a few final, wet thrusts leak your combined pleasure down the curve of your ass and onto the floor.

Soul mates.

You collapse into a pile of bones and exhaustion on the floor when he pulls out of you and eases you down. You regard one another in the haze of the sweetest afterglow you've ever known, and you wonder idly which is stronger.

This new bond?

Or his devotion to the government?