#lance tucker x curvy!reader

[nickfowlerrr]

💌 I am wondering about your thoughts on Lance Tucker 👀👀

i hate him so much but also i'm entirely obsessed with him and i love him.

he is so awful but so hot and god just the idea of him!! i mean can you imagine him degrading you and just being so fucking mean while he has his way and takes you any way he pleases???

and he no doubt has a praise kink, so he'll force you to be vocal, too. he wants to hear how good he makes you feel, and he wants to hear you cry out how much you love being used by him.

and he just gets cockier and cockier each time your walls involuntarily squeeze his throbbing length impossibly tighter as he fucks you from behind, his big hands gripping your waist, grabbing at your doughy hips and belly as he gropes you feverishly, pulling you back onto his cock with every thrust as your ass slaps against his hips, the room filled with the wet sounds of your fucking, his growls and taunts, your broken moans and mutterings of indescribable pleasure as he calls you a disgusting, pathetic whore for letting him fuck you, again and again. for begging for his big dick to fill up your tight little hole, for wanting him to cum inside you because you're so fucking desperate for every bit of him you can get.

and he fucking loves it when you agree, because you know as well as he does exactly what you are. what you are for him. because you're not just a slut, you're his slut. and as you collapse on his bed, thoroughly worn and leaking him, he smirks as you glare at him when he slaps your ass. you can play off you hate him all you want, but he sees the way you shoot daggers into him and any woman he so shamelessly flirts with near you, he feels you, on nights like these, when you're in bed with him and you think he's asleep. he feels you crawl closer to him, feels when you rest your head on his chest, feels when you snuggle into him.

he lets you think he doesn't, but he does.

and look, he's not one for commitment. he doesn't do all that lovey dovey stuff. but maybe there's something to be said about just how much he enjoys nights like these...and the way he's almost excited to pretend to be sleeping next to you, waiting for you to find him and wrap him in the warmth only you can provide him.

and maybe there's something to be said about the lack of other women he's brought home these past few months, not that you needed to know who he spends his time with, but still, he finds himself wanting to brag about it to you. just so you know how lucky you should feel to be the only one in his bed, no other reason, of course.

and he knows come morning, odds are you'll be gone by the time he wakes up. or, like the past few mornings, maybe you'll stay just a little longer, maybe have some breakfast. but he isn't concerned either way. because he knows, just as well as you do, that you'll be back tonight. and like every other night for the past week straight, you'll be in his bed.

right where he wants you.

right where you want to be.

right where you belong.

[slothspaghettiwrites]

I’m not the lance anon, but I’m suddenly so fascinated by the two of them just sweetly doting on each other and Lance being soft only for her. If she was plus size, he loves his lush little love and is obsessed with how different she is from him-soft and giving and lush and curvy. The sex is amazing, but he loves touching and cuddling her regardless 🥺🥺🥺 I’m so soft right now and I’ve NEVER been a lance person until today

Not me planning on writing a Lance Tucker x Plus Size!Reader fic now because I can't stop thinking about all the softness and lovey dovey goodness.

[hellomissmabel]

Good at worshipping

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Lance Tucker x plus size!reader

Warnings: This is Lance Tucker we’re talking about so his male member is mentioned A LOT. Also, partial nudity, sexual language and plenty of innuendo, but nothing explicitly NSFW (please do let me know if anything has to be added!). The word “a**hole” is also featured A LOT. So proceed with caution!

Word count: 3.364

Summary: Lance Tucker is fresh out of winning a gold medal at the Olympics in Toronto and wants to celebrate his victory with a tattoo on a very special place. Y/N draws tattoo designs for Body Cult, a new tattoo shop in Toronto, and immediately catches Lance’s eye. But will she be just as enamored with the athlete as he is with her, a plus size girl?

A/N: I’ve posted a masterlist with all upcoming plus size!reader fics. I keep getting new ideas, so this masterlist will be updated as the ideas come and go. There will always be an announcement post. If you want on the tag list, please comment on the announcement post of send me an ask!

This one I wrote for myself. I got a taste of what it’s like to have a Lance anon before the asks stopped. And what can I say? I’m a sucker for Lance Tucker. Hoping to get another Lance anon for my birthday, though.

All plus size fics can be found here

It’s a relatively new establishment, embedded between a vegetarian lunch parlour on its right and a vintage clothing store on the left. The façade stands out with its white accents over the original stone background, the words “Body Cult” handwritten on the windows in swirly silver paint. Inside the establishment, the tattoo artist is busy working on a young, curvy woman. I’m smitten even before I realise I’ve been staring for a bit too long to be appropriate. But Lance Tucker doesn’t care about appropriate, that woman’s curves are a fucking sin. Emphasis on fucking.

Completely relaxed she is perched on the seat, not a sign of pain distorting her elegant features. Her shirt covers her bare chest as the tattoo artist finishes up on the refined flower design on her ribcage, alongside the curve of her breast. Her baby blue bra is slung casually over the artist’s shoulder and they are chuckling about a joke he’s just made. I watch her intently, my eyes never leaving the contours of her full-figured body, the small rim of her matching baby blue panties peering from her low-slung jeans a feast to my greedy eyes.

“I’ll be with ya in five, pal,” the tattoo artist smiles at me as he tells her to stop laughing or he’ll mess up the design. Afterwards, he politely asks if she can lift up her shirt just a little bit so he can check the final result. Her gaze crosses mine briefly after I catch a glimpse of her breast and I feel myself getting hard as I imagine what’s underneath that shirt.

“Okay, Y/N, I think I’m done.” He clasps his hands and nods, admiring his work. “Think about what I said about colouring it in.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she replies nonchalantly, giving him a cheeky thumbs up, “Don’t worry, Frankie. I’ll make myself an appointment.”

Clicking his tongue and wetting his lips, he shakes his head at her. “I don’t have to tell you to moisturise often. You know the drill.”

She bites her lip to hold in her laughter. “Got it all under control, Frankie. This might be my first tattoo but I’m not a newbie to the trade.”

“Lemme just put a bandage on it and you’re good to go. Don’t worry about coming in tomorrow, I’m giving you the rest of the week off to heal.”

Spinning around after the artist gives her bra back, she lets the shirt glide off her chest to put it back on. My eyes are glued to her back, her skin so soft it makes me wonder if other body parts will be just as soft. As she’s changing, the guy comes up to where I’m standing behind the counter and leaning against the wall, snapping me out of my trance.

“What can I do for you, my man?,” he smiles at me and I take a better look at him. There’s ink all over his body, his left arm a tattoo sleeve dedicated to his favourite Marvel heroes, his right one is an ode to pin-up girls. He’s got half-long black hair that barely covers up the Chinese characters on his neck and hippie rings decorating each and every finger.

I’m about to speak up when she comes up next to him, resting a hand on his shoulder. “See ya, Frankie.” She pecks his cheek and chuckles as he turns red. “Say hi to your brother Archie for me.”

Turning her attention to me, she giggles softly. “Don’t let Frankie here talk you into getting a piercing, too, kay?”

Swaying her hips lusciously and with a sassy grin she leaves the shop, not even bothering to wait for my answer. Frankie coughs and repeats his initial question. “Who was that?,” I ask him instead, placing my hands on my hips as I look back at her form disappearing into the morning.

“That’s Y/N,” he smirks at me knowingly, “She’s a stunner, hm? Really sweet girl, very shy even though you wouldn’t say so. My brother Archie has been trying to hook up with her for a long time now but I think she swore off bad boys for good.”

A cocky grin tugs my lips upwards, maybe I can change her mind. “She works here?”

“Yeah, all you can see here is drawn by her hand,” he says as he points towards all the artwork and different tattoo designs on display. There are numerous drawings hanging on these walls, each and every one of them unique and absolutely breath-taking.

“She dropped out of college in New York and winded up here in Toronto. Saw her doodling at Starbucks and sat down in the same booth. We got talking and I offered her a job. She picked up art school not long after that and only got better.”

“Does she do tattoos?,” I inquire with obvious interest, my eyes crinkling in mischief. “No offense, Frankie, but if she’s really as talented as you make her out to be, then I want her to do it, not you.”

“Nah, ‘s fine,” he exhales with a laugh. “But I’m sorry to disappoint you, man. She only does check-ups and some touching up,” he answers matter-of-factly and I’m a little disappointed. It would’ve been quite the experience to have my tattoo inked on my skin by such a delicious woman, even though I’d probably bend her over the seat first to get rid of all the sexual tension.

“So tell me,” Frankie continues, taking a pen in hand, “What kind of tattoo did you have in mind?”

It’s been a couple weeks since I’ve had the tattoo done by Frankie. I’m very pleased with the result and I’ve taken good care of it so there really isn’t any need to go back to the shop for a check-up. But I just haven’t been able to get Y/N off my mind and it’s driving me to the brink of insanity. Most nights I pick up a young and flexible athlete like I’m used to, but it just doesn’t do the trick anymore. I have no trouble getting it up, on the contrary, I always get it up as soon as she crosses my mind. Even in the middle of training I have to excuse myself to take care of my boner in the men’s room.

So I called up Frankie and asked him if it’s possible to get my tattoo checked out, very much aware that this is Y/N’s job. He knows I probably won’t need any touching up but doesn’t say anything about it and just gives me an appointment. This Friday, eight p.m. and I’ll be the last customer before closing. Can’t fucking wait.

I strut into the shop at five to eight, oozing confidence as I flash her my signature toothy grin. Maybe I add a little more swagger for her benefit, anything to get her to swoon. Sitting with her legs crossed on the chair and playing around on her smartphone, she secures her glasses in her hair as soon as she hears me come in.

“Hello, sweetheart.” She purses her lips in amusement, chuckling softly. “Name’s Lance, Lance Tucker. I’ve got an appointment at eight.”

“Yeah, Frankie told me you were coming in again. You left quite the impression.” Her eyes scan me from head to toe and I laugh lightly at her words. I don’t think she knows what she’s in for and it only arouses me more. “You can take a seat. Let’s have a look and find out why Frankie is so impressed.”

“So Frankie scribbled down something that remotely resembles lower body,” she mumbles to herself as she adjusts her glasses and closes the curtain behind her. “So I assume that means your leg or thigh…”

“I don’t mind if the curtain’s open, Lance Tucker ain’t shy,” I chuckle teasingly and she blushes a little, clearing her throat.

“So if you’d like to take off your pants, that would be great,” she smiles kindly as she gets her toolkit ready.

I grin to myself as I push down my jeans and boxers next, standing with my back straight, waiting till she turns around. With a neutral expression, she faces me again. Yet as soon as her eyes venture lower and take in the sight before her, she drops whatever she’s holding, her face falling in complete shock.

“Fuck,” she mutters under her breath, her eyes widening at my cock and how it proudly strokes my stomach. “Fuck. My. Life. That’s one big…” She gulps and locks eyes with me. “Tattoo?,” she feebly adds, swallowing thickly.

Scratching the back of my head, I feign innocence. “Thanks, Y/N. If you want, you can take a closer look.”

Y/N slowly registers my offer, her eyes going back and forth between my penis and my face. “No, I’m fine here,” she whispers quietly, followed by a string of profanities. “Just feeling the urge to kill Frankie.”  

After she’s processed the initial surprise, her mind levels out again and a look of disgust clouds her eyes. “You had a gold medal tattooed around your dick?,” she questions, scolding and judging me. “That’s a very stupid idea.”

“I won Olympic gold, darling,” I respond smugly to the attitude she’s giving me. “As an athlete, my body is my temple,” I gesture towards my cock but she’s determined to keep her eyes from wandering there. “And as you can see, I can do some good worshipping.”

“Uhu, right,” she puffs out in a long breath. “Wanna hear my thoughts?”

Picking up the items from the floor and putting them back on the tray, she stands back up and walks towards me. “You don’t need any touching-up. You don’t need me to check if it healed properly.” Pressing her pointer finger to my chest, she gives me a dirty look. “You came here for me, didn’t ya?”

“What if I did?,” I shoot back arrogantly, feeling the blood rush towards my cock as an immediate reaction to her proximity. “Got a problem with that?”

“I’ve heard of you before. The name didn’t really ring a bell at first, but now I know who you are, Lance ‘the fucker’ Tucker,” she huffs, raising a challenging eyebrow. “Your name is mud on the streets. Your reputation proceeds you.”

She says my name with obvious dismay, yet her eyes remain fixed on how my chest rises and falls with every laboured breath. Her words might cut through bone and marrow, but I know she knows she’s the reason for my change in breathing. I know she knows she’s the reason for my hard-on.

“Please put your clothes back on, Lance. You’re wasting your time he,” she continues coldly, averting her eyes instantly after she’s uttered those words. “Your tattoo is fine.” Y/N starts to walk away from me, ready to vanish behind the curtain. “It seems you’ve got a little situation going on downstairs.”

Before she’s out of my reach, my hand grabs her wrist as I close the distance with long, determined strides. Lance Tucker doesn’t beg. Ever. But my voice does sound slightly distressed, mildly desperate as I plead with her. "I'm sorry, Y/N. Please, we got off on the wrong foot. Let us start over.”

“I’m not some wet pussy you can use up and then put aside when another skinny bitch comes along,” she snaps at me, getting angry at my forwardness and boldness.

“Does that mean I turn you on?,” I kink a suggestive eyebrow at her. But I regret it straightaway as she pulls her hand free from my grip.

“Go. Now.” She rushes away from me before I can spot the blush that adorns her rosy cheeks. Throwing my clothes back on as fast as humanly possible, I follow right after her.

“Y/N, I’m really sorry. I’m an asshole, I know.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, she scoffs at me. “Just go, Lance,” Y/N pleads with hard eyes yet her tone softens when she sees my shoulders slump. “Find someone else to play games with. I’m not interested.”

“Y/N, I’m not playing any game with you.” I wanna argue with her and even though she’s obviously conflicted about her own feelings, she continues to put her foot down.

My voice breaks just a little as I ask her how much I owe her. Refusing to accept any money from me and waving me off, averting her eyes and body from me, I leave a twenty dollar bill in the tip jar. Yet as soon as I step outside the shop, I realise I’m an even bigger asshole if I let her slip away so easily.

Rushing back into the store with a resolute stance, Y/N’s surprise quickly shifts into a furious fit. “Look, Tucker,” she snarls my last name with harsh contempt, but I break her off before she can start shouting at me again.

“I swear I’m being real here with you, Y/N,” I promise her sincerely, taking a step closer yet she instantly takes a step back, still very wary of my intentions. “You’re all I’ve been thinking about.”

“You think it’s funny, hm?,” she throws at me, obviously seething. “You think dating a plus size girl is funny? You shower them with attention, make them feel good about themselves, tell them you love ‘em… only to crush their spirit when you run off with a size two! Yeah, I know your type.”

I manage to get closer as she spits those words at me, too caught up in her fury to notice I’m winning space. We’re almost chest to chest when she realises I’m too close for comfort, attempting to push me away hard.

“I think I made myself very clear.” Another push to my chest, but I stand my ground. “You think it’s funny, don’t you?” Y/N pushes me again but her resistance is in vain. “I know your type, Tucker.” She turns towards hitting my chest with clenched fists, looking me straight in the eye as she speaks. “Because I used to date an asshole like you back in New York.”

“Hey, hey, Y/N,” I shush her as I take her fists into the palm of my hands, holding a firm grip on them so she doesn’t resist me any longer. “I’m not gonna hurt you, I promise. I might be an asshole but I don’t lie. I’m not lying, Y/N.” This seems to calm her down a bit and I wait until she regains her composure before smiling down at her and releasing her hands.

She drops her hands to her side, eying me curiously. “You mean that? You really mean that?”

“You’re way too good for me anyway,” I assure her softly. “A goddess like you deserves to be worshipped all day long.”

“And you’re good at worshipping, right?,” she chuckles as my comment prompts a little smile from her plump lips, painted a delicate pink. Her cheeks are stained with a lovely blush and I gingerly cup her face with both hands, gently making her look back at me.

“Damn right I am. I might be bad at love but I’m good at worshipping,” I grin playfully, my thumbs smoothing over the apples of her cheeks. “Come on, baby, let me take you out, hm?”

Uncertainty is written in her Y/E/C eyes and she bites her bottom lip in thought. “What do you say, Y/N? don’t leave me hanging here, love,” I laugh nervously, her silence playing with my nerves, turning me anxious in anticipation of a ‘no’.

“Just one date and I promise I won’t let you down. Scouts honour.”

Little by little, she leans more and more into my touch. “You probably were never in the scouts but okay,” she gives in eventually, nodding softly. “I’ve already seen your dick,” Y/N chuckles as she places her hands on mine and lowers them.

I take a chance and entwine our fingers, pulling her flush against my chest. “And what about my dick, young lady?”

Standing on her tiptoes, her lips ghost over mine. She’s both teasing and testing me, making sure I’m a man of my word. I can’t wait to kiss her, but know that if I act to fast, I might lose my only shot with her. “And I don’t think you’ll disappoint me,” she grins with a cocky smile, leaving me longing after those lush lips as she steps backwards to grab her purse.

My fingertips follow the outlines of her tattoo, my featherlight touches leaving goose bumps on her skin. She had it coloured in a couple days ago and the result is breath-taking, Frankie really outdid himself this time. Y/N is still asleep, the covers barely reaching above the curvature of her plump ass and my hands slide down her spine to squeeze the soft flesh. It makes her giggle, the girly sound always like music to my ears.

“It’s so beautiful. You’re so beautiful,” I comment on my girlfriend and her tattoo, kissing the crown of her hair.

Slowly opening her eyes, she chuckles at my look of admiration. Lifting up the covers to look at my dick, she hums cheekily in appreciation. “Not too bad either.”

“Oh you little…,” I growl playfully at her as I launch myself on top of her before she even has the time to roll onto her back. Peppering her face with butterfly kisses, she squeals as my fingertips tickle her sides.

“Stop it, Lance!,” she shrieks with a high-pitched voice, squirming underneath me and begging for mercy. “Truce! Please, Lance, let’s make a deal!”

This peaks my interest and I momentarily stop my attack, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips and smirking. “A deal, hm?”

“Yes, a deal,” she confirms through strained laughter, tears falling down her flushes cheeks. “If you promise to never tickle me again, I’ll do anything you want.”

“That sounds like a win-win to me,” I smirk at Y/N, humming as I think it over. Trying to decide what would be the best approach, I roll off her and tuck Y/N into my side, her hands spread over my chest and following the hard lines of my torso. “What about matching tattoos?”

Her fingertips hesitate once I’ve uttered my proposition, stopping right below my collarbone. “Okay,” she replies as her lips find my sweet spot and she sucks tenderly on the sensitive skin.

“Okay?” I look down at the woman in my arms, her stunning full-figured body a perfect match between my sheets. “Okay,” I moan slowly as she languidly nibs at my neck. “I’ll give Frankie a call after breakfast.”

“Oh no, mister.” She bites down a little more and a strangled whimper leaves my lips against my own volition. “I wanna do your tattoo. Frankie can still do mine, but I wanna do yours. I insist.”

“Sure thing, baby,” I relent instantly, her tender touch keeping me under her thumb.

With a devilish grin, she chuckles darkly. “Can I also decide where, babe?”

My eyes fall shut as her right hand dips underneath the covers, blindly tracing my tattoo downwards. “O-of course, baby,” I gulp softly, melting like butter in her hands when she discovers my morning wood.

Laughing lightly, she removes her hand and straddles my legs. I open my eyes again to take in the perfection of her body, how her curves adorn her body in the most sensual way. Resting my hands on her hips as she runs hers through my short brown locks, I tell her I love her.

“I love you, Y/N. I love you, I love you, I love you.” I repeat it over and over again and she smiles, laughs, chuckles and snorts. “I’m an asshole, I know. But I’m your asshole. I’m your asshole, babe.”

“You’re an asshole that’s good at worshipping.”

“I’m an asshole that’s good at worshipping,” I mimic her words, stealing a kiss from her lips. “And I love you.”

“I love you, too, Lance,” she replies in an instant, not a sign of hesitation to be found when she leans down to capture my lips in a lazy kiss, her lips moving sync with mine.

Sequel: the whole package

Tagging: @avengerofyourheart @a-little-hell-to-raise @marvelingatthewonder @mrshopkirk @hardcorehippos @knittingknerdy @winterboobaer @italwaysendsinafightt @viollettes @hymnofthevalkyrie @feelmyroarrrr @justareader @austinamelio @volklana @4theluvofall @themcuhasruinedme @theoneandonlysaucymo @caplanbuckybarnes @nenyakj @amrita31199 @emilyevanston @minervaem @howlingbarnes @buchananbarnestrash @youandb @you-and-bucky @fvckingsteverogers @thatawkwardtinyperson @that-sokovian-bastard @abovethesmokestacks @marvelrevival @marvel-fanfiction @justanotherbuckydevotee @barnes-heaven @heartmade-writingbucky @buckyywiththegoodhair @captnbarnesrogers @mellifluous-melodramas @its-not-a-phase-hux @melconnor2007 @ivvitm1109 @toofuckinfabulous @ailynalonso15 @hollycornish @delicatecapnerd @camigt1999 @learisa @curlyexpat @palaiasaurus64 @fanndas-snow-goddess @crisssivonne @yourenotrogers @tomhollandzs @supernaturaldean67 @beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep @aletheladyinred @beyondbarnes @xbergiex @reniescarlett @promarvelfangirl @capbuckybuchanan @lovemarvelousfics @riskybarnes @yknott81 @rrwilson66 @pegasusdragontiger @mizzzpink @salty-holographic-stickers @sammyissassy @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19 @kudosia @bellejeunefillesansmerci @lumelgy @southernbellestatues 

Tag list for all plus size stories: @suz-123 @kiwi71281 @whatisaheroanyway @ilovebeingjoyful @veronicalei @meganlane84 @thescarsweleave @isaxhorror @pleasantdreamqueen @kudosia @georgiadean37 @revlismoriarty @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @evyiione @salamander-falls @taylorjacksonandtheolympians @jughead-wuz-here @jasmineladjevardi @sonofadeanwinchester @3dsaunt @marvel-at-bucky @nothin-after-79 @sexy-sea-basss @shesmade0fcandy @breezy1415 @wtfisalltherandoms @mrs-dr-strange @disneymarina

Good at worshipping tag list: @rubynationwins @acunningstargazer @imsecretlyromanburki @kanupps06 @chameerah @marvel-trash07 @imsupernaturalbaby @littlemessyjessi @bethy-sue @jesspfly @sebbystanlover-vk @stefswonderland @luvmesumsherlock @wolverinegirl14 @toniinhere @gimmeblackwidow @myboyfriendgiriboy

@superfandomqueen @phiauniverse sorry but tumblr won’t let me tag you!