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foreverindreamlandd · a month ago

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I have a request! But only if it sparks inspiration, no pressure💖:

I saw somewhere on instagram that after Civil War, Seb said Bucky never got his backpack with the notebooks in it back, and I simply cannot accept that, lolll.

Maybe Reader is somehow able to get the backpack back from the CIA or whoever has it?? And surprise Bucky with it??

All That's Left

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

WC: 2.2k

A/n: OMG I love this idea!! I never thought about the backpack from Civil War but after you sent this request I found this article explaining everything behind it and my heart broke. Here’s another perfect example as to why fanfic is so wonderful because we get to fix the moments where our Bucky boy is done DIRTY even though he deserves to have everything he wants and more. Thanks Ren and I hope you like it. <3

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“Are you sure that’s what they said?” Bucky’s clipped tone caused your stride to slow as you approached his cottage. You stood outside the door, debating whether to walk in. The sound of a table being knocked over answered that question and you held back as Bucky erupted. “It’s my fucking stuff, Steve! They can’t just keep it! I ne-” his voice broke and he sighed, continuing, “I just really want it back.” The way his voice switched to a defeated whisper - a man so tired of fighting all the time - broke your heart. “No, I know you did everything you could. I’m just….annoyed. Thanks for trying. Yeah. Okay. Bye.”

A small, rectangular object flew out from the thick fabric covering the doorway inches from your body. The phone bounced off the ground a few times before landing just at the shore of the lake.

Bucky stormed after it, throwing open the ‘door’ and nearly colliding into you, whatever it was that had him so upset distracting him too much to have noticed your arrival. He halted, eyes wide, his body almost touching yours he was so close. You stared into his stunning ocean blue eyes before smiling as you took a step back to ease the uncomfortable tension building in the air.

“I know vibranium phones are indestructible, Buck,” you turned to the lake, “But I don’t think they’d be able to withstand the belly of whatever monster fish dwell beneath the surface.”

Bucky’s frustration softened, walling up whatever anger he felt moments ago as he let out a forced chuckle. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Can I ask what the phone did to deserve a potential death sentence?”

He cocked his brow. “That depends, can I ask what brought you here to witness the attempted mobile assassination?”

You grinned, holding open a paper bag to let him peak inside. “Stopped by the bakery and they had fresh Koeksisters. Figured I’d snag you some before they sold out.”

Bucky beamed, reaching into the bag to grab one of the delicious pieces of braided dough. “Hell. Yes. Thanks Y/n.” He took a bite, eyes closing for a moment as he savored the deliciously sweet treat. When they opened, he was met with an expectant look, your eyes darting at the bag and back at him waiting to get your end of the deal, and he swallowed. “I, uh, that was Steve. I asked him to do some research into something and unfortunately not even Captain America can pull the strings apparently needed to get it done. Which I know makes sense because the U.S. Government kind of hates Captain America because of….me. Still, I didn’t think this would be so difficult.”

“What’s the research?”

He paused, his expression somber and serious as his gaze focused on the ground in front of him.

“It’s nothing, really,” he mumbled. “There’s just…when I was taken by Ross in Bucharest, I had a backpack. They took it, and there’s stuff in there that I’d really like back. But Steve’s sources say that they want to hold onto it for reasons that make no fucking sense to me.”

You rested a hand on his shoulder, attempting to comfort him as his frustration returned. He looked back up and you saw a thin sheen of tears forming over those lovely blue eyes. “What was in the bag, Bucky?”

His jaw worked as he decided whether he could trust you or not. Apparently it wasn’t a hard decision because it only took a few seconds before he told you.

“It was my life. Journals I wrote in whenever a memory of moments that happened before….everything. Memories of the war, Steve, my Ma, Becca….good and bad. Even moments between before and now where I had flashes of being lucid, when I could remember who I was, not who they turned me into. While I was on the run, whenever I felt like I was losing myself or falling back into that dark, terrifying place in the back of my head, I would read them. They kept me grounded, and with everything that Shuri and Ayo are doing, I think they could help. And I- I just want them back.”

You bit down on your lower lip, using every ounce of strength you had not to jump forward and pull Bucky into a hug. The man before you was definitely in a much better state than when you met him months ago, exponentially less jumpy and closed-off (with you anyways), but you were still hesitant with potential movements and gestures that might startle him or put him on edge. Bucky for some reason felt comfortable with you early on in your friendship - Shuri said she hadn’t seen him laugh until the first time he met you - and you’d be damned if you were the reason that comfort was taken away from him.

Instead, you just lightly squeezed his shoulder, nodding slowly. “Bucky, I’m so sorry. If there’s anything I can do-”

He gave you a weak smile. “No, don’t worry about it, doll. I gave it my best shot and it’s just not gonna happen.” He sighed. “I guess it’s just time to let it go and move on. I can’t let a silly backpack keep me from moving forward in getting my brain put back together after being in a blender for 70 years.” The chuckle he let out carried no hint of amusement.

You frowned. “Still, it’s your stuff, and it’s important to you. No one should be allowed to keep that from you, especially something so personal.”

Bucky shrugged. “I guess not even ex-assassins get to keep things for themselves.”

“Buck-” your voice broke.

“It’s fine, Y/n. Can we just drop it? What’s done is done.” He quickly walked to the edge of the lake to retrieve his phone, then grabbed the back of Koeksisters, lifting it up as a gesture of thanks. “Appreciate you stopping by and for dropping off the goods, but I’d love to get some rest if that’s okay.”

Stunned by his abrupt dismissal, you cleared your throat as you bobbed your head up and down, once again fighting back tears. “Sure thing, Buck. Just, please let me know if you need anything, okay? I’m here for you. Always.”

His lips tightened and he nodded, then walked back into the cottage, leaving you standing outside with a hole in your heart.

—---------------

Without thinking, you beelined to the castle, a place so large and so intricate that when you first moved to Wakanda it took you hours to navigate through the maze of hallways to reach whatever destination you sought.

Now, months later, you could walk directly to T’Challa’s office with your eyes closed. Ever since he hired you to work as a liaison for the Wakandan Outreach Centers being placed around the world, you were in and out of the massive building, bothering the King with new ideas and projects to turn his new dream into a reality.

The Dora Milaje standing guard outside the double doors both gave you a single nod as you walked through to find the King - your friend - standing by the window admiring his kingdom.

“Please tell me you are here to say that those contractors we hired have finally completed renovations,” he said, his back still to you.

You laughed. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. I’m good at my job, but I’m not a miracle worker.”

“Was there an option for me to hire one of those instead? Is it too late to do so now?” When he turned, you caught the smirk on his lips and you rolled your eyes at the Black Panther. Not many people could do that without getting a royal ass-kicking by Okoye’s army, but the friendship and trust you had built during the time you spent with T’Challa made it that you were pretty much family at this point, and Shuri was definitely ruthless when it came to the amount of sass she dished out to the nation’s leader. You had learned from the best.

“Maybe if you pay me more I can make it happen.” You countered. Then, your expression went serious, drawing in a deep breath, hands clasped behind your back as you shifted your weight back and forth from the balls of your feet to your heel. “Actually, I was hoping you might perform a miracle for me?”

His eyes narrowed. “What do you need?”

You bit your lip before continuing. “I was wondering if you could pull the King card-”

“What the hell is a King card-”

Another eye roll. “Use your royal power to make a few phone calls…”

—----------

One week later, you stood outside Bucky’s cottage, clearing your throat nervously.

After a few sounds of shuffling from inside, Bucky emerged with a smile that almost caused your legs to give out.

“Hey, doll. To what do I owe the pleasure? I hope it’s more Koeksisters.” He chuckled.

You smiled, lifting up the familiar brown paper bag of baked goods. “As if I’d ever let you down, Buck.” Your heart ached with nerves as you pulled something off your back, revealing a black backpack with what had to be a million buckles. “Managed to snag this, too. Not at the bakery, but-”

Your voice petered out at the sight of Bucky’s reaction to the item in front of him. His eyes were wide, his mouth hung open, body so still that you wondered for a moment if he was breathing or not.

“Bucky? Are you okay-”

“How?” His voice was raspy, thick with the golf ball-sized lump that was currently stuck in his throat.

Your heart was pounding, and you knew his enhanced hearing picked up its manic rhythm. Still, you tried to give him a casual shrug as you responded, “T’Challa owed me a favor.” You unzipped the backpack and held it open to Bucky for him to inspect the notebooks carried within it. “I asked him to call a few people and I guess having a king pull a few strings was all you needed.”

Bucky stared at the notebooks, still frozen in place, silent. The quiet lasted long enough that you grew uneasy, and you did what you normally did during uncomfortable silences.

You rambled.

“I know you told me not to do anything, but I couldn’t just sit back when there was a chance that I could have done something. You’ve already been through so much, and when you talked about your past and made it sound like you deserved to have something you cared about so much taken from you, it broke my heart. There is no way in hell that you deserve that, Bucky. No one does, but especially not such a kind, caring, good man who is trying to put his life together after having it ripped apart in the worst ways. These are yours, Buck. No one should be allowed to take them from you. Not if I have anything to say about it-”

The backpack fell to the ground as Bucky collided into you, wrapping his arm around you in a tight embrace. You had never hugged him before, but the way he clung to you in this moment made it seem like he felt the same way you did, that a part of him never wanted to let go. So you moved your arms around him, rubbing his back as you allowed yourself to take in the sensation of hugging Bucky. The strength of his body, the heat radiating off him that made the hottest days in Africa seem frigid in comparison, the way he smelled of grass and wood, the feel of his heart beating against yours. It was all so much to take in, but not nearly enough.

“Thank you.” His soft voice was filled with emotion as he whispered into your ear. “This means so much- these were all I had. Just…thank you, Y/n.”

You squeezed him a little tighter. “Anything for you, Bucky.” The next words left your mouth before you could stop them. “I know you said that these notebooks were all you had, but that’s not true. You have me. I’ll always be here for you, whatever you need.”

He held you in silence for a few minutes, then finally pulled away slowly, as if forcing himself to do so. His eyes were red, his cheeks wet, but the smile on his face was as radiant as the sun and it made your chest swell.

You cleared your throat, trying to contain your smile so that it didn’t literally split your face in two.

“I’m sure you want to dig into these.” You took a few steps back, still speaking. “I’ll see you around, okay?”

“Will you stay?” Your steps stopped and you stared at him with such shock that he blushed. “I mean, you don’t have to, but I’d love to share some of these stories with you. The good ones, at least. Nothing embarrassing like the time Becca made me play dress-up or whatever.”

You giggled, walking toward him. “Oh, now you have to tell me the story of you playing dress-up, Buck.”

His smile brightened, and he leaned down to grab the bag, then held out his elbow for you to wrap your arm around as he led you into the cottage.

“Anything for you, doll.”

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Tags: @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @eclipses-and-moondust @itsdawnashlie @peaches1958 @blackwidownat2814 @barnesafterglow

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