tattoo-of-a-ladie

Tainted Love (part 1)

Summary: Soulmates are supposed to be a wonderful thing, that is until you find out who your soulmate is. You guessed it, Lance “The Fucker” Tucker.

Pairing: Lance x Reader

Warnings: probably swearing

A/N: Don’t hate me but I deleted ‘Long Way To Go’. I’m sosososososososososososososososo sorry BUT here’s this new Lance AU. I really hope you guys like it :) Also, I know I say this every time but if there are any mistakes, I shall fix it when I wake up (I really need to stop staying up late lol).


Growing up, you always wondered who your soulmate was and when you’d meet him. You wondered if he was brunette or blonde; a red head maybe? If he had blue eyes or brown eyes; maybe gray or hazel?

Was he tall or short? Did he have the most perfect smile ever? Was he nice?

So many questions ran through your head as a kid. Either way, you couldn’t wait until the day you got to meet your soulmate. Your parents always wondered when you‘d meet him. Your older sister already had, they’re married now. Your friend since college, Hope, had recently (finally) got together with her soulmate, Ben. Even your youngest sister had already met her soulmate. Now they were waiting on you and at age 28, you still held onto the little hope that you’d meet him.

It was a long 28 years of your life and your soulmate had put you through hell and back. From bruises and scrapes here and there to breaking your arm and leg.

And let’s not forget the most painful thing you’ve ever experienced because of him; that god forsaken tattoo just above your lady parts.

It was a quiet Saturday afternoon. Everyone was off doing their own thing which left you at home by yourself. You were just watching some movie, relaxing on your couch when you felt a horrible sensation on your lower abdomen and it was getting worse by the second. It felt like someone was stabbing you, more like carving you and you wondered if your soulmate was alright.

Going into the bathroom, you pull down your sweatpants and remove your shirt, leaving you in only your bra and underwear. You hold onto the wall for support, the pain increasing as it got closer to your womanhood. You look into the mirror and see what seems to be a drawing?

Then it dawned on you; that motherfucker is getting a tattoo.

It was the worst 3 to 4 hours of your life.

The idiot tattooed fucking gold medal on him. Why the fuck would he get a tattoo of a gold medal? And somewhere so painful? Needless to say you hated getting undressed. Sex too. And forget about bikini’s.

God, how you wished you knew who your soulmate was so that you could properly kick his ass.

You tried contacting him a couple of times when you were 17. You wrote on your hand with pen, knowing it would also appear on his hand as well. You wrote a simple ‘hello, this is your soulmate.’ followed by a little smiley face. He responded with a ‘fuck off’.

You also knew that he was very sexually active. You loathed the mornings you’d wake up and find several hickeys on your neck. Oh, how you wanted to pummel him to the ground.

Even though you wanted to give him a piece of your mind, you always found yourself caring a bit too much for your soulmate, despite all the shit he’s put you through.

“Get your cock sucking ass in the car, you’re coming with me.” Hope placed her hands on her hips as she glared at you.

“No thank you, I’m fine staying home.” you respond, leaning against the doorframe.

Hope groans. “Can you stop being an asshole for two seconds and come with me to the gym? The new team coordinator is coming by and you’re really fucking nice so you’ll make me look good.”

You let out a sigh. “Fine. But only because you’re shit on your own.”

Hope smiles and you quickly put on your shoes, slipping your phone into your back pocket. The two of you retreat back to her car and you slide into the backseat, being met with some teen.

He smirks at you. “Hey.”

You turn to Hope. “Who’s this asshole?”

“Oh that’s just Maggie’s fling for the week. ” she brushes it aside and you roll your eyes.

“I really like him.” Maggie turns to you with a sweet smile from the passenger seat.

“He’s got to go.” you say, looking at the guy.

“What?”

“Go, get out.” you nod your head but he doesn’t move. “Don’t make me get out of this car and drag you out.”

The teen’s eyes widen and he grabs his backpack before getting out of the car at which time, Hope starts driving.

“What the fuck was that for?” she glanced at you through the rearview mirror.

“She needs to be on her A game and that little shit would’ve distracted her.”

Hope pursed her lips but didn’t say anything more on the matter.

“Oh shit, I almost forgot.” she spoke, grabbing a cup from the cup holder. “I want that down the hatch before we get to the gym.”

You watch Maggie take the cup from her, noticing it held a greenish liquid and snatched it from her.

“Y/N, what the fuck.” Hope let out a frustrated sigh.

“What’s in here Hope?” you shake the cup around.

“Healthy shit.”

“Like what?”

“Like orange juice and bananas and.. Weed.” her voice got lower towards the end, hoping you wouldn’t hear her.

“Weed?! Are you fucking kidding me Hope? The new team coordinator is coming over and you want Maggie stoned?” you scoff.

“She needs to live a little.” Hope waves her hand at you.

You roll your eyes and roll down the window, throwing the cup.

“What’s wrong with you!” Hope nearly screeched.

“She’s not going to that gym stoned, Hope.”

Hope groans loudly. “Ugh, you’re no fun.”


The three of you walk into the gym upon Ben telling you that the new team coordinator was already there and once Hope sees him, she becomes tense.

The tall man rips his earphone out of his ear and turn around, a smirk playing at his lips. “Well, well, well. Hope Ann Greggory. You’re an hour and three minutes late.”

“What the fuck are you doing here, Lance Tucker?” she barely looked him in the eyes but it was clear that she was annoyed to see him.

Lance Tucker? Hope told you about Lance, mostly about how much of an asshole he was and how much she hated him. Lance was a gymnast as well but you didn’t care for gymnastics much so when Hope would rant about him or gymnastics, you wouldn’t pay attention. You didn’t know a thing about Lance Tucker, only that he was, as Hope says, an asshat.

“Team coordinator.” he responds, holding out what looked to be an I.D.

Hope scoffs. “They offered me that job. I said fuck no.”

Lance lets out a laugh. “That’s bullshit.”

“Your face is bullshit.”

“Something looks different about you. Oh,” he then chuckles. “I know, you got old.”

“Your limp dick disease must be affecting your eye vision.” she snapped but before their insults could go any further, Ben stopped it, asking what Maggie’s first set was to which Hope said bars, still glaring at Lance.

Lance on the other hand took this time to glance around the room before his eyes landed on you. “Oh hi, I’m Lance Tucker.” and suddenly he wasn’t the asshole from ten seconds ago.

“Y/N Y/L/N.” you respond. Lance stretches his hand out to you and you shake it, the both of you immediately pulling away when you feel a shock.

“Don’t fall for his nice guy image he’s putting on Y/N. The guys’ still a dick brain.” Hope rolled her eyes at Lance but he was too busy staring at the hand you had touched.

It was as if time had stopped and all Lance could do was look at you. Why had he felt a shock when the two of you shook hands? Did you feel it too? All too soon, Lance was snapped out of his trance.

“Asshole, you gonna watch Maggie or are you gonna keep staring at my friend with your hand in your pants?” Hope questioned, still slightly annoyed.

“Uh, yeah.” he cleared his throat, looking at you once more before turning to Maggie.


A/N: Just go with the flow, alright? I’m so excited for this one. I’ve been writing this for 3 hours, tell me what ya think!

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So @momnar and I made a god today.

His name is Crux, and you could describe him as a god of decisiveness, change, and tension.  He’s the patron of protestors and all movements and so on and so forth.

The smoke coming off him right now is the release of tension when people jump into action.