#bottombuckyweek2025

[s0ftpining]

cheeky

a humble contribution to bottombuckyweek2025

[johnbottoms]

day 1: pinup | leather/lace | rouge

LET'S GOOOOOOOOOOOO !!!! @bottombuckyweek2025 thank u guyysss for rallying the troops to get all up in bucky's hole <33333

[bottombuckyweek2025]

🦌💙 DATE & PROMPTS REVEALED💙🦌

the mod team is beyond excited to share with you all that BOTTOM BUCKY WEEK 2025 will take place this november 10th through november 16th! please make sure you are tagging all entries with our hashtag #bottombuckyweek2025 so we can reblog and enjoy them with you! this week encourages the promotion and creation of works that feature bucky on the bottom-- fic, gifsets, art, meta, etc. it's all welcome!

🦌💙 PROMPT LIST

DAY 1: pinup | leather/lace | rouge DAY 2: roleplay | wear and tear | money shot DAY 3: favors/rituals | anonymous | marks DAY 4: impact | praise | swallow DAY 5: boots | untouched | uniform DAY 6: weekend pass | exhibitionism/voyeurism | training DAY 7: free day! bonus prompts: bark | bite | beg

in order not to limit your creative freedom, we encourage you to interpret these as literally or openly as you see fit. you can use one, two, or all three prompts per day. canon, au, an already existing universe of yours- there's no cap on any of it!

if you have any questions or concerns, don't hesitate to consult our faq or send us an ask! we can't wait to see your creations!

[astronomical-light]

@bottombuckyweek2025 day 1: rouge

gale “buck” cleven/john “bucky” egan

face-fucking, 1.6k, here on ao3

“What do you need, Bucky?” Gale asks, half just wanting to hear John say it.  John’s face twists, forehead wrinkling with the weight of whatever is spinning out inside him that he can’t seem to stop. “I don’t want to have to decide,” he says. “I don’t want to have to think anymore, Buck.” He sucks in a long drag, the cherry of his cigarette flaring red-hot in the dark. Gale reaches up and takes it out of his mouth, dropping it to the ground and grinding it into the dirty concrete with his heel, and John’s jaw goes slack with nothing left to hold between his lips. It’s an absence Gale is planning on rectifying.

[juneebugs]

Day 1 - Lace

posting day 1 on day 2 (when it is day 3 in most time zones)🙂‍↕️

[shipstorms]

fic

feelin' myself (finished)

@bottombuckyweek2025 Day 6: Voyeurism

John and Gale swap bodies.

Gale's mouth turns down. Rueful, or maybe considering. His cadet uniform is pressed free of wrinkles, hair pomaded into a tight part. John's form wears it well. And the mustache does make him more dashing, John decides. He looks goddamned handsome, a perfect counterpart to the pinks and golds he's currently embodying. Gale catches on. "You're a narcissist," he scoffs.

[drylite]

hello here’s 1.6k of thick bucky, starring in: help! my bf’s ass is too fat and it’s making me act unwisely in this burger joint

Midway up Bucky’s inner thigh his jeans had torn. Worn through, it looked like, and the tear was getting worse even as Gale watched. If it carried on, it was on a course to reveal the bottom of Bucky’s briefs. And it would carry on, because Bucky was goddamn thick all over.

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

for bottom bucky week day 2 - wear and tear

[elleviral]

Bottom Bucky Week Day 4

I’ve never written anything explicit before but I really wanted to give it a shot. I'm just a simple lesbian so I'm sorry if that's obvious. When/where is this? Idk just vibes man

AO3 here if you prefer (1.4k)

John runs his hands up Gale’s thighs, pushing them apart. There’s no resistance, the muscles loose and willing, but it’s not quite what he wants, what he needs. He can’t resist rubbing his cheek against the inside of Gale’s knee, nuzzling into the soft hair. He wants to lose himself in the softness, let himself drift away a little. Those thoughts are roughly shoved aside, because Gale is flung out across the bed, looking at him expectantly, ready for him to make a move. There’s a challenging glint in his eye, like he’s waiting for John to decide something. 

Gale looks fucked out already—hair escaped from its habitual product, soft and loose, lips bitten red and swollen. 

John knows what’s next. He’s big, and loud, and he’s always leading the way. He doesn’t want to be that version of himself, but he knows the part he’s always expected to play. He moves to climb on top of Gale, but a soft sound has him pausing. 

John flicks his eyes up to Gale’s face and is met with an intense, molten look. Gale seems contemplative, a slight furrow to his brow as he leans up on one elbow. “This really what you want?” he asks. His gaze is piercing, like it’s peeling back every layer John’s built up between what he shows the world and the core of him. 

John is taken aback, although maybe he shouldn’t be. This is Gale, the one person that has always been able to see through every layer of swagger and bravado with startling ease. “Most people assume I, uh—” he breaks off, a little embarrassed. 

Gale lifts a hand and cups the side of his face. “I’m not most people. What do you want, John? I want you to feel good.”

John still feels caught out, something inside him small and frozen in place, but he trusts Gale. No one ever sees this side of him, past his large size and to the desperate grasping thing that lives in his chest. Except Gale does, and John grabs what’s being offered with both needy hands. “I…I want you inside me. Please,” he manages to get out. 

Gale smiles softly. “I’ll take care of you.”

John’s too needy, too overcome with the possibility of getting what he’s always wanted, never expected, and from Gale, to get any more words out—so he just nods. 

And with that, the softness is gone, and Gale is grabbing him and flipping them over roughly. He shoves John flat and then slides back, mirroring John’s position from a moment ago and shoving his legs apart, much less gently.

He scrapes his blunt nails down John’s thighs, raking through the coarse hair, and John shivers at the slight sting echoing through his entire body. He hadn’t expected this from Gale at all, but what is Gale if not the inverse to all of his pieces? Quiet where he’s loud, steady where he’s wild. Why not this, too?

While John’s been caught in his head, Gale’s gone still, staring at the tableau of John laid out in front of him. He looks enthralled—like maybe John isn’t alone in this, and Gale is getting everything he’s ever wanted, too. John can’t stand being even a few inches apart, unable to grab him, for another second. He lets out a whine that he might be embarrassed at, except Gale groans in response, and everything other than his arousal melts from his mind. 

“Look at you. This is what you want, huh?” Gale smirks at him for a beat before surging forward, kissing John with a force that had been absent before. It’s not just a press of lips on lips, it’s tongue meeting teeth and slick saliva and Gale using his mouth with a precision that John had only previously seen demonstrated on his ever-present toothpicks. 

He meets Gale with just as much enthusiasm, years of want all coming to a head at once. He moans into the kiss, grabbing at the hair on the back of Gale’s head, the meat of his shoulders. There’s so much available for him to touch and he can’t decide what he wants most first. 

Before he’s had his fill, Gale is pulling away. He’s about to protest, but then there are two fingers at his lips, those long, delicate fingers that he couldn't help staring at even when they were covered with dirt and grime. Now, they’re pressing into his mouth, sliding against his teeth and pressing against his tongue. He closes his lips around them and sucks, wrapping his tongue around each one until they’re both soaked. He loses himself in it, the feel of the warm, wet skin, eyes closed and focused on that one point of contact. 

Abruptly, the fingers are withdrawn and he blinks open his eyes, mind clouded and sluggish. Gale is holding his hand out in front of his mouth, but John is too slow to process what he wants. 

“Spit,” Gale orders.

John’s mind suddenly catches up, and he does as he’s told. He’s the one that’s been using his mouth, but Gale sounds wrecked. He feels powerful, knowing that he’s having this kind of effect on Gale. Gale, who seemed unaffected throughout lunatic flying, and flak, and monotonous days filled with starvation and bleak horror. But right now, he’s not the unflappable major. He’s human and raw and he’s looking at John like he doesn’t know what he wants to devour first. 

He must sense that John’s control is about to fracture, because finally, finally, there’s a rough, wet finger right where John wants it. Circling his hole and pushing inside with a shallow thrust. John’s mind goes blank as Gale works him open, quickly adding a second finger. He’s as precise in this as he is in everything else, and within a few strokes he finds a spot that makes fire race through John’s veins. John isn’t sure what sounds he’s making, but he couldn’t contain them if he wanted to, arching off the bed and throwing himself into the feeling with abandon. 

“That’s it. So good for me.” Even more than the feeling of his fingers, the praise in Gale’s gravely voice makes John leak onto his own stomach, the precome sticky and damp between them. 

He’s already on the edge, doesn’t think he’ll last much longer if Gale doesn’t get a move on. “C’mon, Buck. Please.” That gets him a chuckle, but before he can get worked up, Gale is gently withdrawing his fingers and holding his hand up to John’s face again. 

This time he knows what Gale wants, and he lets the saliva pooling in his mouth drip into Gale's hand without being asked, a thin, shining strand connecting his lips to the palm below. 

Gale wastes no time, slicking himself with his handful and lining himself up. He meets John’s eyes, and he’s radiant, glowing in the soft light. Gale must see the desperation in him, because he doesn’t stop to ask if it’s okay, just keeps the piercing eye contact as he slowly slides in. 

All consuming pressure and electric pleasure flows through John’s entire body. He almost doesn’t know where he is at all, but he’s tethered to Gale, can feel the way he’s moving, the sounds he’s making, the way he’s cradling the side of John’s head with one hand. 

Gale murmurs to him, soft things that John had never imagined hearing come from his mouth. “So gorgeous, always, but like this—” He cuts himself off with a groan, and John can tell that he’s as close as John feels—he doesn’t need much, just something to push him right over the edge. 

John goes to reach for himself, but Gale bats his hand away. He barely gets one stroke in before John is coming all over himself, the heat pulsing through his body, shattering him apart. Gale follows him, shuddering and moaning in a way that John is too far gone to appreciate, but knows he wants to experience again and again. 

Gale slumps down onto John’s chest, weight comforting and grounding. He doesn’t care about the sticky mess or the sweat sliding between them. He’s too wrung out for much, but he wraps his arms around Gale, crushing him to his chest and unwilling to let him move even an inch away. 

“I’m gonna need a round two, doll,” John says. “Soon as I can move.”

Gale raises his head slightly and gives John a wink, full of promises that John now knows he fully intends to keep. 

thank you @astronomical-light for looking this over even though it's short <3