lillibethwrites

Lilli

34My therapist would be disappointed. 18+ only.

469 posts

I Had A Thought

I had a thought…

What if Bucky got a sleeve tattoo on his flesh arm. His bulging muscles and all of that ink glistening with sweat after a workout. Imagine his controlled panting breaths when the needle punctures his skin. The way he kind of likes the pain and his lids drop lower, his eyes heavily on you as the tattoo artist marks his skin. It’s definitely a turn-on for him.

You enjoy sitting on the couch with him and absentmindedly tracing your nails over all of the lines on the tattoos, until you get transfixed on the art and just stare at his arm all night, tracing shapes. And he just watches you – he’s always just watching you.

But you’ve been having a particularly tough week and Bucky, to surprise you, comes him with a little present. You bite back a smile when he hands it to you and spot the faintest blush on his freckled cheeks. He seems nervous to give you the present, a bit sheepish. You peel off the wrapping paper, already enamoured that he thought to give you something on a bad day, and you reveal a set of tattoo gel pens. A giggle spurts out of you and you look up at him with amusement dancing in your eyes. Bucky scratches the back on his neck with uncertainty in his eyes.

“It’s for my tattoos,” he starts and decides he should elaborate when you raise your brows at him. “You always like touching them and maybe you’d like to colour them in…”

Another laugh makes it past your lips and Bucky is satisfied enough at the sound. “They have glitter in them,” you tell him like he isn’t aware of the fact.

He shrugs, “I know. It’s… prettier.”

Your heart swells about thousand times its original size and you throw your arms around his neck. He hugs you back tightly, one hand moving to stroke your hair. The excitement alone is enough to settle something inside of him – the part of him that just wants to make sure you’re alright.

Later that evening, you’re watching a movie and whip out the pens. Bucky watches you with amusement as you pick out your colours and settle on your knees next to him. All focused and content, you colour each and every piece of his tattoos with beautiful, glittery colours. It’s a therapeutic activity, tracing the lines and watching the glitter shimmer. Bucky enjoys the gentle touches and the light tickling of the pens on his skin.

Both your knees press into the couch cushions, settled on each side of his arm and Bucky notices just how convenient his hand placement is. He watches your face and can’t help but inch his hand up against your thigh. He notices a small twitch in your face at the touch and the briefest of pauses in your movements, and Bucky has to bite back his squirm when you continue what you’re doing like nothing’s going on at all.

His thumb strokes up your thigh and his fingers toy with the thin fabric of your pyjama shorts. He knows for a fact you aren’t wearing any underwear underneath and he slips past the fabric to brush his fingers over your pussy. He’s delighted to find you wet and excited and explores you luxuriously, stroking and teasing as you continue to decorate him. Your breaths turn heavier and your hips twitch at his teasing. Bucky notices the frown on your face, your neediness visibly growing.

He leans closer and nuzzles his nose up your neck, smiling at the soft breath you let out. “You’re wet, baby,” he murmurs and you let out a soft noise. “Is the glitter turning you on?” he teases.

Just as you try to scoff at his teasing, his thumb presses into your clit and you clutch onto his bicep for something to keep you from sinking yourself down onto his hand. You roll your hips and Bucky takes it as his sign to keep going, steadily rolling his thumb over your clit until your thighs tremble. His middle finger glides over your core and you clench tightly, gel pens completely forgotten when his mouth attaches itself to the sensitive skin in your neck. You whine softly and his finger glides into you. Bucky groans needily at the feel of you and his metal arm wraps around your waist to pull you closer. You climb over him until you’re fully straddling his lap and bucky’s metal hand slides up your spine, into your hair. He pull you down onto his lips and slips another finger into you, swallowing your moans greedily.

“Bucky,” you breathe against his mouth and he hums reassuringly.

His fingers curl into your spot and you find it hard to keep kissing him. But he presses you closer, his tongue delving into your mouth as his flesh hand continues to pump into you, the friction as he glides in and out driving you crazy.

“Feels good, huh?” His voice sounds cocky and a bit breathless as he presses your forehead to his, eyes piercing into yours. You’re fighting to keep your eyes open, your lips parted in pleasure. “Now who would I be if I didn’t use my hand for good when you make it look so pretty?” He smirks and slows his hand, the action somehow driving you that much closer to the edge. “And what better use for me than to make you feel good… There’s no better feeling than your cunt around my fingers, you know that?” Your hips stutter their movement at his filthy words and you give him pleading eyes.

Your belly tightens and your moans grow more frequent. Bucky doesn’t give you any chance to loop away from him, his fingers steadily tangled into your hair and his mouth occasionally nipping at your lips. His eyes are glazed with sex and it turns you on that much more. His low brows, his full mouth, his flexing muscles.

“You going to come for me?” he asks and you nod your head desperately. He laughs and presses a kiss to your mouth. “Come for me, baby. Give me what I want.”

And you do. And he eats it up.

And then, Bucky finds a lot of creative way to incorporate those glittery gel pens. Like marking every spot he likes to kiss you. Every spot he likes to be kissed. And licked. Every place on him that you can use as a seat.

The dork has enough pride to walk around with a glittery arm, too. He’ll take all of Sam’s relentless teasing, that view of you innocently decorating his arm with gel pens and the view of you not-so-innocently decorating his hand with your come steadily on his mind.

I Had A Thought

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