Hey, so I had this crazy idea about drunk bucky being a menace in love and is all over the reader and spilling embarrassing bedroom secrets in front of everyone 😉 and is so delusional, he believes that she is drunk not him and tries to take care of her but fails miserably and everyone is just enjoying his antics and cheering him on
You know what, you should totally add your own crazy thoughts about drunk bucky if you decide to write this 😃
ahhahahahhah, I cackled the whole time writing this😂
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Bucky Barnes was drunk.
Which wouldn’t have been a problem, except that he was aggressively drunk. Loudly drunk. Passionately, whole-heartedly, menace-level drunk.
And completely convinced that you were the one who’d had too much.
“Someone get her a blanket,” he announced to the room, throwing his vibranium arm out wide, nearly knocking over a lamp. “She gets cold when she drinks. You know—her knees? They do the little shiver.”
You blinked. “I’ve had one cider, Buck.”
“You’re slurring,” he said, squinting suspiciously.
“I’m not.”
“You are. And your face is doing that… face thing.” He nodded decisively. “Classic signs of a tipsy kitten.”
From his perch on the edge of the couch, Sam sipped his beer and grinned. “Tipsy kitten?”
You were pretty sure you were the only sober one in the room. And yet Bucky, who had done four celebratory tequila shots with Thor ten minutes ago, was now babying you like you were one hiccup away from collapse.
You tried again. “I’m really not drunk.”
“That’s exactly what a drunk person would say.”
Natasha snorted. “She’s literally the one who drove you here.”
“And I thank her for her service,” Bucky said solemnly, wobbling slightly on his feet. “But I’ve got it from here. I’ll take care of her. Always do.”
“Always?” you muttered, and Bucky turned to beam at you.
“She cries after sex, y’know,” he said proudly.
Your soul left your body.
“Oh my god, James,” you hissed.
“Not because she’s sad,” he continued, unfazed, addressing the room like a man delivering a TED talk. “Because it’s so good. Her words. Not mine. Though I agree. I think it’s that one move I do—”
“BUCKY!”
Everyone erupted. Sam literally dropped his drink from laughing. Tony looked like he was about to take notes. Wanda covered her mouth. Steve whispered a soft “Jesus Christ” and turned toward the wall like it might save him.
Meanwhile, Bucky looked so pleased with himself.
“I’m just sayin’,” he shrugged. “She gets all emotional. It’s beautiful.”
You buried your face in your hands. “I’m going to die here. This is my death.”
“NO!” Bucky shouted, stumbling over to you. “No dying. You’ve had too much. You’re acting unstable.”
“I am sober, you absolute menace.”
He leaned in conspiratorially, whispering directly into your ear, “Don’t worry. I’ll hold your hair if you need to throw up.”
“I will end you.”
“Later, doll,” he grinned. “You always say that in bed, too.”
A sound left your mouth that may have been a wheeze.
Clint stood up, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. “Barnes, sit down before you reveal the coordinates of your sex tape.”
“We don’t have a tape,” Bucky said, then immediately followed it with, “Because we deleted it.”
Tony clapped once. “That’s enough entertainment for the evening, folks.”
But Bucky wasn’t done.
Oh no.
Because now he had moved into the delusional caretaker phase.
“You need water,” he said, cradling your face in his hands like you were seconds from passing out. “Where’s your water? You gotta hydrate. It’s important. You’re so small. You dehydrate faster than other people.”
“I’ve been hydrating,” you said flatly. “Meanwhile, you drank what was basically liquid gasoline.”
“Because I’m a super soldier,” he whispered, poking your nose. “You’re just a civilian angel.”
You looked around the room helplessly. “Can someone tase him?”
“No way,” Sam said through his laughter. “I’m letting this play out.”
“I’m gonna make you toast,” Bucky declared, staggering toward the kitchen. “That’ll soak up the booze. Where do we keep toast?”
“THE BREADBOX,” you and Steve shouted in unison.
Bucky paused, then snapped his fingers. “Right. Secret bread drawer.”
You flopped back against the couch as he banged around the kitchen, opening cabinets with the urgency of someone defusing a bomb. “Why is he like this?”
Nat shrugged. “Honestly? This is the happiest I’ve ever seen him.”
You glanced into the kitchen where Bucky was holding two slices of bread up like they were treasure. “He looks like he’s about to kiss the bread.”
“I might,” he shouted. “Because it’s for her.”
You groaned into a throw pillow.
By the time you finally got him wrangled into a coat and ready to leave, he’d managed to trip over a chair, try to bridal carry you and almost drop both of you, and glare at Sam while yelling, “DON’T CORRUPT HER WITH YOUR FILTHY JOKES. SHE’S A LADY.”
“She has more dirty jokes than I do!” Sam replied.
“DOESN’T MATTER. SHE’S MY LADY.”
“Bucky, get in the car.”
“Don’t raise your voice, she’s had a rough night,” he whispered, swaying dangerously.
You rubbed your temples. “I literally haven’t.”
When you finally got him into the passenger seat and clicked his seatbelt, Bucky turned to you with glassy, adoring eyes and whispered, “I love you so much, it’s stupid.”
Your heart softened.
“I know,” you said gently, brushing his hair back from his face. “You’ll remember all of this tomorrow and die of shame.”
“I hope so,” he said, already dozing off. “Because this was the best night of my life.”
Hello! I just followed your blog and I was wondering if I could request something! Could I get a scenario with the US and SF bros? How would they react to their best friend who they've developed a crush admitting that they trust them completely when they're alone together? Crush has had a few bad experience with people in the past so their wary of a lot people but they practically trust the skelebros wih their life and how would they react if a confession slipped into the statement? Thank you!
i couldn’t think of anything for the US bros so i only did SF, sorry. ~Mod Perseverance
SF Sans
Sans has been crushing on you for quite some time now, and every day (for quite some time) he tells himself that ‘TODAY IS THE DAY I WILL ASK THEM OUT.’
It’s hard admitting his feelings to you though, because despite how very great and powerful he says he is, he hasn’t had a lot of experience actually dating people and doesn’t completely trust himself not to screw this up. So here he was sitting next to you eating ice cream while the two of you finished watching a movie, trying to convince himself to ask you out.
“Sans?” He snaps out of his thoughts at the sound of your voice, and turns to look at you. “Thank you.”
Sans frowned in confusion. He hadn’t done anything worth you thanking him for recently, had he? “FOR WHAT?”
You smiled at him, and he felt his soul speed up at the sight. “For just…always being honest. Even when you probably shouldn’t be. I… I didn’t alway have people I could trust as much as I trust you and, what I’m trying to say is, thank you for always being by my side. It makes me feel safe.”
Sans stayed silent for a while, staring at his feet. Not very many people would say that they trust him very much, besides maybe his brother, and he wanted to get his thoughts in order before he said anything stupid to you.
“I SHOULD BE THANKING YOU. I KNOW I’M NOT THE EASIEST PERSON TO GET ALONG WITH BUT, YOU STAYED WITH ME WHEN OTHERS WOULD HAVE LEFT.”
“Their loss really. You’re an amazing person Sans and I wouldn’t mind staying with you forever.”
He snaps his head up so fast to look at you it makes an audible popping noise.
“DID YOU JUST????”
Realizing how embarrassing what you just said was, you covered your face and turned away from him. “N-Nevermind!”
“DON’T WORRY, DEAREST.” Sans grinned. “I WOULDN’T MIND STAYING WITH YOU FOREVER, EITHER.”
Today was the day he told himself he would ask you out, after all.
SF Papyrus
You were, without a doubt, 10 billion times out of his league. And he completely fell for you. The worst part? You were his best friend. Which wasn’t really a bad thing, it just meant he had to spend a lot of time with the person he was crushing on and not make it obvious how much he cared for you. The problem? You were just so damn sweet and trusting.
Currently you were killing him with your cuteness, by helping him boost his self-esteem by telling him everything you liked about him.
“… And you always seem to know exactly what will cheer me up! Honestly, its the reason I go to you when I’m upset or scared. And I don’t have to worry about you telling anyone about my fears. Which brings me to my next point!”
You sat up straight, before clearing your throat and resumed torturing him with compliments. “You are quite possibly, the MOST loyal person I have ever met. Which is a nice breath of fresh air from the last person I trusted with my life–”
“You trust me with your life?” Papyrus quietly asks, cutting you off.
“Yes.” You say unwaveringly.
Papyrus frowned“…Why?”
“You haven’t given me a reason not to. Which is why I love you so…muchhhh………” You trailed off and refused to look at him, as soon as you realized what you had said out loud.
Papyrus quickly wrapped his arms around you, before burying his face in your shoulder to hide how flustered he was by your honest words.
When I was very small I thought that Aughra from Dark Crystal was played by Oprah. In my mind they were both pretty and had dark skin... As an adult I understand that Aughra was meant to be ugly, but I always liked her.
As a child I also thought that Jaime Lee Curtis and Annie Lennox were the same person (wow, she’s so talented, she can act and sing!).
I also played the Prince cassette several times on accident thinking it was Michael Jackson... and I thought for sure Michael Jackson was going to marry Madonna because they were the biggest singers I knew and were practically royalty.
(embarrassing) Story Time! So I'm in a special type of school for people with similar problems. It's almost the end of class and everyone is done with their work. I'm chosen for picking the next song we listen to. It's from the Skittles amv from long ago. Remember that one? I forget that it has a bad word in it. My teacher's looking like he wants to maim me. I want to cry...memories.
“They said a bad word! We don’t cuss in this fucking class!”
Hi!! So I read your drunk bucky fic and it was so freaking amazing. I had to stop 5 times midway to take laughing breaks 😂
I was wondering if maybe you'd do a part 2 for it about the morning after and the way bucky would have the worst hangover and be extra grumpy and everyone at the compound would absolutely roast him the moment they see him and his memories would come barrelling back and he'd be so embarrassed and flustered.....
And please add what you think would happen as well. I love to read your thoughts sooo much 👀
a continuation of THIS ask
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The first sound you heard that morning was groaning.
Long, pained, tragic groaning. Like a man dying. Or possibly auditioning for a low-budget zombie movie.
You rolled over and found Bucky facedown on the pillow, hair a disaster, one arm hanging limply off the bed like he’d been tossed there by fate itself. The other was wrapped around your waist like an anchor.
“How’re you feeling, menace?” you murmured.
He made a noise that might’ve been “don’t talk to me” but could also have been “kill me now.”
You smirked. “Water’s on your nightstand.”
“M’gonna drink it with my eyes,” he mumbled into the pillow.
It took an actual hour before he sat up, sunglasses perched on his nose despite being indoors, moving like the floor might give way under him.
“I don’t wanna see anyone today,” he declared, standing and promptly swaying to the side. “Or tomorrow. Or ever.”
You followed him to the kitchen because you were a loving partner and you knew what awaited him.
Sure enough—Nat, Sam, Steve, and Tony were already there, gathered like vultures waiting for a particularly entertaining carcass.
“Well, well, well,” Sam grinned. “If it isn’t Mr. Don’t-Corrupt-My-Lady.”
Bucky froze mid-step.
Steve sipped his coffee. “Morning, Buck.”
“You’re all too loud,” Bucky muttered, slouching toward the coffee pot.
Nat didn’t even look up from her tea. “So… how’s the bread drawer?”
Bucky’s head whipped toward you. “You told them?”
You lifted an innocent brow. “Didn’t have to. Apparently you shouted about it at 2 a.m.”
Sam laughed so hard he nearly spilled his drink. “I told you he was gonna marry that bread.”
Tony leaned forward, smirking. “Barnes, I’ve been in some embarrassing situations. But declaring that your girlfriend ‘cries after sex because it’s so good’ in front of the entire team? That’s art. That’s historic.”
Bucky groaned into his hands. “I didn’t say that.”
“Verbatim,” Steve said, nodding. “You also said it was because of ‘that one move you do.’ Which—frankly—I did not need to know.”
You bit back a laugh. “Yeah, you were very… descriptive.”
“Oh my god,” Bucky muttered.
The rest of breakfast was brutal.
Sam wouldn’t stop calling you “Tipsy Kitten.”
Nat kept offering to “hold your hair back” if you felt sick.
Tony made a mock-up of a tequila bottle labeled Liquid Gasoline: Barnes Special.
Bucky sat hunched in his chair, sipping coffee like it might save his soul.
Every time someone brought up a new detail—how he’d tried to bridal-carry you, how he’d lectured Sam about “respecting a lady’s honor”—his ears went redder.
Later, you found him hiding in the common room, hood up, sunglasses still on.
“I can’t look anyone in the eye ever again,” he muttered.
“You’ve survived war, torture, Hydra, and Tony’s karaoke nights,” you reminded him. “You’ll survive this.”
“This is worse,” he groaned. “They know everything. I might as well tattoo ‘she cries after sex’ on my forehead.”
You smirked. “Could be worse. You could’ve said my moves were better.”
His head shot up. “Don’t even joke.”
Of course, the memories started coming back in waves.
At lunch, he froze mid-bite, staring into the distance.
“What?” you asked.
“…Did I tell Steve about the time you—”
“Yes,” you said quickly. “Loudly.”
He groaned.
Later, while you were watching TV, he suddenly sat bolt upright. “Oh god. The bread drawer.”
“Yes,” you said again, patting his knee.
By dinner, he was clutching his head in both hands. “Did I—did I poke your nose and call you a civilian angel?”
You tried so hard not to laugh. “Yep.”
He groaned into the couch cushions.
What I think would also happen:
That night, Sam leaves a loaf of bread on your doorstep with a bow on it.
Tony installs a plaque on the kitchen cabinet labeled “Barnes’ Secret Bread Drawer.”
Natasha starts calling you “My Lady” in public just to watch Bucky glare.
Steve, bless him, tries not to tease, but ends up buying Bucky a “Tipsy Kitten” mug.
You record the whole drunken night on your phone and keep it just for personal blackmail material.
By the end of the day, Bucky’s hangover had dulled, but his embarrassment was alive and thriving.
You found him sitting on the edge of the bed, still sulking.
“You know,” you said softly, “you were kind of sweet.”
He groaned. “Don’t.”
“You were. Annoying, loud, and extremely drunk—but sweet.”
He glanced up at you, wary. “Yeah?”
You smiled. “You took care of me all night, even though I was fine. And you told the entire team you love me. Multiple times.”
“…Yeah, but I also told them you cry after sex.”
“That’s just… extra romance.”
He groaned again but let you crawl into his lap.
You kissed his cheek. “Besides… I love you, too. Drunk or not.”
He sighed, wrapping his arms around you. “Still not drinking with Thor ever again.”
