I have been wanting to get screenshots of all the Buckys on a new desktop wallpaper for a while. The episodes these are from: SE1, S1E5, S2E2, S2E5, S2E8, S3E1, S3E3.
Been doodling in Procreate, applying the things Iâve picked up from different tutorials. Having a lot of fun with it and itâs nice to pass the time with.
omg - I did it! Followed along with the procreate tutorial from Flo at Art With Flo to make this. Made a few changes with the colors (wanted some green) - but it worked! And her steps are soooo easy to follow along with. The amazing tutorial is here.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
young!Bucky x OC x old!Bucky smut
When a mission to capture a dangerous Hydra operative sends Bucky Barnes and Hannah Bensoussan hurtling back to 1944, they find themselves face-to-face with Bucky's younger self - the cocky, carefree and flirtatious Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. With his younger self being absolutely captivated by Hannah tensions between the two versions of Bucky. Jealousy and desire collide, forcing Hannah to navigate their complicated dynamic while holding onto the man she loves. But when lines between past and present blur, one night changes everything, leading to the trio into some unexpected situations.
Emmrich actually IS the suave and charismatic gentleman we've all been waiting for. Forget your Alistairs and your Cullens. Emmrich says dear and darling and has enough Big Dick Energy that you sense him coming from three rooms away. What's that shift in the air? Emmrich's natural necromantic aura touching the Fade? Well yes but also the sound of his monster cock swinging in his perfectly tailored trousers.
Emmrich talks to Rook like there's a love letter addressed to them specifically lodged in his voice box. He touches them like he paid money for the privilege. Emmrich uses his wealth to help others, he is NOT a person who desires power, and he expects the same of others. One time he looked at Rook and said, "The only good noble is a dead one," and even though Rook knew he was talking about the residents of the Necropolis, or perhaps because of that, it made Rook so wet they had to go sit down against a tree and bang their head a little to calm down.
Sometimes Rook shows up in Emmrich's room of an evening and without even missing a beat Emmrich says, "Come have a seat, darling," and Rook sits next to him only for him to tut and pat his knee. Immediately, Rook is perched there like he's Santa Claus.
"The things one can sense when truly in tune with the fade are inspiring," Emmrich says, and other such nonsense as his touch finds the path of least resistance to Rook's skin without hesitation. His fingers are cool and kind and they trace up the side of Rook's ribs like they might slot perfectly between them, like Rook was built as a home for his hand.
"You're killing me," Rook says, because he is, because Rook could actually choke and die from how badly they want to feel Emmrich's mustache on their thighs.
"Yes, but only a little death," Emmrich says. He smiles and his bangles jingle merrily away as he plays with Rook's chest. "Every time I touch your body, I'm already longing for the moment I'll touch it again."
"Guh," says Rook. "Hrng. Hunh."
"I quite agree. I find that words fail me when it comes to...how you make me feel, dearest." This is what Emmrich says, but fails utterly to demonstrate as he leans in and delicately bites Rook's earlobe, whispering seventeen of the twenty filthiest things Rook has ever heard. Things like I'll eat you like a cake, though you're more delicious and the Fade sings your name when I'm in you and--
"If I have to hear ONE MORE THING about that necromancer's cock," seethes Solas, who did NOT know that he was signing up for nightly pornographic lullabies when he decided to kick it in the back of Rook's head. This is the fourth time he's said that this week. He will hear many, many more things about that necromancer's cock.
"YES EMMRICH," echoes through the Fade, "Gods YES, harder! Give it to me!"
The spirits of the Fade, who like Emmrich a whole helluva lot more than they like Solas right now, twirl and giggle.
Proposing a feature for future games called a "no media literacy mode" where the rat from horrible histories pops up at key moments with a sign outlining the writers intentions and how the scene is intended to be interpreted so that people don't have to think about it for themselves.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
young!Bucky x OC x old!Bucky smut
When a mission to capture a dangerous Hydra operative sends Bucky Barnes and Hannah Bensoussan hurtling back to 1944, they find themselves face-to-face with Bucky's younger self - the cocky, carefree and flirtatious Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. With his younger self being absolutely captivated by Hannah tensions between the two versions of Bucky. Jealousy and desire collide, forcing Hannah to navigate their complicated dynamic while holding onto the man she loves. But when lines between past and present blur, one night changes everything, leading to the trio into some unexpected situations.
Art commission from the wonderfully talented kayaczek, check her out. And check the other Bucky and Hannah piece she did here.
Summary: In the heart of World War II, Sergeant Bucky Barnes survives a fateful fall from a train, only to be pruned from history and given a new life as Hunter B-17 in the Time Variance Authority. His newest mission: to track down a dangerous variant altering key historical battles. When he meets his new partner, Analyst 2041-H, formally Hannah Bensoussan, sparks fly amidst the chaos of time.
The moment Hunter B-17 stepped into Ravonna Renslayerâs office he could tell this was not going to be a routine assignment. In another lifetime he had been known as Sergeant James Barnes. Bucky to his friends. Here, in the hallowed halls of the Time Variance Authority, he was a man unknowingly stripped of his past. Another of the agency hunters who served the agency with unfailing loyalty. Protecting the sacred timeline with a reputation for efficiency and skill which set him apart from the rank and file.Â
The way Renslayer glanced at him, then at the small redheaded woman standing beside him, immediately set the tone for this meeting. This was serious business. Critically important, but too delicate for a full team if it was only him and this other woman here. Infiltration most likely. Which Bucky preferred, those were his specialty. Less chance for things to get complicated, better opportunity to shine in the field too. Bucky kept his stance relaxed, his arms crossed over his chest in a way which suggested he was ready for anything but not particularly eager to be here. He had been through enough missions to recognize when things were about to get complicated. And this felt like one of those times.Â
Renslayer sat behind her desk with her forearms folded on the pristine blotter. Expression impassive, but then it almost always was. The judge was a consummate professional in the execution of her duties. The dim lighting of her office somehow made the tension in the air more palpable. To his left and right shelves housed trophies from her previous missions as a field agent. It was something Bucky considered taking up himself from time to time. Occasionally a knick knack here or there would catch his eye, and what was the harm when the timeline was going to be pruned anyways? But holding onto the past could be seen as dangerous in the hallowed halls of the TVA. Besides, he had his eye firmly fixed on that promotion.Â
âThis is no ordinary case,â Renslayer began, voice clipped and efficient. No hellos. No how-are-yous. Just right to work. Bucky could appreciate that. At the edge of her desk was a thick manilla file which she nodded towards. The redhead reached for it, taking it into her hands and opening the cover. Bucky looked over as she opened it and saw the flimsy containing the mission brief. Rensalyer continued, âThereâs an anomaly in the 1812 timeline. Napoleon Bonaparteâs invasion of Russia. Somehow, he wins.â
Bucky raised an eyebrow, feigning nonchalance. âGuessing thatâs a problem, huh?â
âItâs not a problem; it's a catastrophe. If Napoleon wins the ripple effects will alter nearly every significant event in Europe over the next two centuries. That means no World Wars, no rise of democratic powerts. Everything we know changes.â
Bucky glanced sideways at his new partner. Like himself she had been torn from her own timeline, formally Hannah Bensoussan and now Analyst 2041-H. No memory of her past but her exceptional mind had followed her into this new life at the TVA. He definitely knew her reputation. Just as his own preceded him, so did hers. It was not her keen intellect that caught his attention at that precise moment. There was something about the redhead. Asn undeniable presence, quiet beauty that seemed effortless. But there was confidence too, and grace. Bucky wondered how he had not seen her around the building before now. Most likely they had been working opposite shifts. With any luck that would change he thought.Â
Hannah was standing straight beside him, almost rigid as she listened intently to the briefing. She did not outwardly react to the news, but he did catch a flicker of something in her green eyes.Determination, maybe. She was known to be sharp. One of the best analysts in the agency, and now he was getting a front-row seat to see how true that was.
âThe two of you will go to 1812, identify the source of the anomaly and reset the timeline,â Renslayer was telling them. âItâs critical that you work together on this. This will not be your typical reset. Hunter B-17, you will handle the tactical side of the operation. Analyst 2041-H, you are responsible for identifying the exact point of divergence. Apprehend the variant alive for judgment, ideally. If not - prune them, quickly.â
Bucky resisted the urge to glance at Hannah again. Her presence next to him was like a gravitational pull. Instead, he focused on Renslayer. âAnything else we need to know?â
âDonât screw it up,â Renslayer sharply responded, her eyes hard.
As they walked from the office, Bucky finally let himself look over at Hannah. She was already deep in thought. Gaze focused on the file in her hands, as if already mentally running through every possibility of what could have gone wrong in 1812.
âSo,â Bucky drawled as they stepped into the corridor, his voice low and playful, âlooks like weâre gonna be spending some quality time together.â
Hannah glanced up at him, a small smile tugging at her lips despite her serious demeanor. She closed the file and tucked it under her arm. âTry not to slow me down Hunter B-17.â
It was hardly the response he expected from someone coming out of the analyst pool. That spark. It hit him like a wave, an undeniable pull he could not quite explain. What was it about her? Something felt familiar despite this being their first meeting. He could not help but grin.
âOh, sweetheart,â he said with a wink, âyouâll be begging me to slow down.â
Hannah chuckled, a quiet almost private sound that made Buckyâs grin widen. There it was, that immediate connection. Subtle yet undeniable magnetism that pulled them together, though he could not explain it. Nor did Bucky particularly want to. It was not often something like this crossed his path around here. Someone that made him feel wonderfully alive.
âBegging, huh,â she replied, one eyebrow arching in challenge. âI donât beg, Hunter.â
Bucky was silent for a beat. He licked his lips subconsciously, a smile curling at one corner. When he spoke his voice dropped volume, that deep bass rumbling in his chest.
âThat sounds like a challenge.â
Bucky liked the way Hannah blushed in response. There was confidence in the way she carried herself, a sharpness that matched his own in a way that kept him on his toes. And he loved it. She was not someone who needed saving or protecting, but someone who could handle herself just fine. And that was a thrill in and of itself. Here, he did not have the shadows of a world war or the Winter Soldier haunting his past, but his instincts for knowing when someone could handle themselves were still intact. And Hannah? She was more than capable. That blush was not just a flirtation, it was an invitation to pursue and he was eager to accept. Now it was only a question of how far they would go.Â
As they walked down the winding hallways of the TVA the typical hum of activity surrounded them. Minutemen running through corridors in small groups, analysts quietly discussing case files, and the occasional clerk pushing a trolly laden with paperwork. Business as usual. But this time, Bucky was hyper-aware of his new partner beside him.
âSo,â he started again, this time his tone shifting to something a little more serious, âyou ever been out in the field? Or, you one of those desk jockeys who like to watch from a safe distance?â
She shot him a side-eye, lips curving into a smirk. âIâve been on plenty of field assignments. I may spend most of my time analyzing timelines, but Iâm more than capable of holding my own out there. So no, Iâm not a desk jockey.â
Some might have been offended by his question and he was glad she was not. Sharp or not, Bucky needed to know if he was taking someone inexperienced into the field. With his confirmation he was not, he nodded, âGood. I hate babysitting.â
Their conversation fell into a comfortable rhythm as they headed towards the armory to prepare for their mission. Despite the playful jabs there was an ease between them. This natural flow, as if they had known each other all their lives. Bucky could sense this would not be the last time they would work together. He certainly hoped it would not be. So far he was having more fun than he had in years and they had not even left the building.Â
As they were handed their mission attire, Bucky inspected the ensemble. His gear was a full uniform; period-accurate down to the buttons and epaulets which marked him as a captain in Napoleon's army. He looked at it with mild amusement. This was impractical for defense. Bright colors, fancy trimmings, this was about making a statement. It was a far cry from the sleek TVA armor, but he would make it work.
Hannahâs outfit was entirely different. Women did not have military roles in 1812, but that did not necessarily make them absent from the battlefield. She was dressed as a nurse, with a long woolen coat and a bonnet typical of the time. Practical and non-nonsense, but beneath the heavy layers, she had a kind of elegance that Bucky found hard to ignore.Â
He adjusted the sash around his waist. âWell, donât we look fancy,â he quipped, giving Hannah an exaggerated once-over with a playful grin. âYou sure youâre not here to patch up hearts instead of wounds?â
Hannah did not miss a beat. Lips curving into that familiar teasing smirk Bucky was sure he was already addicted to seeing. âI could say the same about you, soldier boy. That uniform almost makes you look respectable.â
Bucky chuckled, pulling on his gloves. âAlmost. But Iâm more fun when Iâm not being respectable.â
Once they were dressed for the time period they made their way into the armory. For Bucky it was a familiar place, and he liked the orderly racks of time sticks and tidy shelves of time collars. Being here was almost comforting because it meant work was about to get done. It brought back memories of other missions, other battles. Variants caught. Timelines pruned. There was something grounding about the task of selecting his gear. Bucky selected a few essentials for their missions while Hannah began checking the handheld reset charges and other tech they would need to ensure the timeline stayed on track.
âYou ever been to 1812 Russia?â Bucky asked, grabbing a time stick and testing its weight.Â
Hannah glanced up from her work, shaking her head slightly. âNo. But Iâve read enough reports to know it's going to be brutal. Napoleonâs army was already falling apart by then. Extreme cold, starvation. Even their uniforms were inefficient due to inferior metal. Not exactly a place Iâd pick for vacation.â
Bucky chuckled, appreciating her dry wit. âYeah, itâll be fun. Nothing like freezing your ass off for the sake of the timeline, right?â
She laughed softly again and Bucky felt that same pull. Something deeper than just physical attraction. Something about Hannah felt ⊠right. It was not easily explained, or at least he could not explain why his heart skipped a beat every time she smiled at him. Standing side by side with Hannah he felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be. They had been meant for this moment, even if the reasons were buried deep beneath layers of time and forgotten memories.
He stole a glance at her, wondering if she felt it too. Was he the only one sensing this spark? Or was Hannah just as aware of the invisible thread pulling them together? The idea he might be feeling this alone tugged at him more than he expected.Â
âIâll try not to let you freeze,â she said with a teasing glint in her eyes, gathering the final piece of equipment. âBut, no promises.â
Bucky shouldered his gear, giving her a mock salute. âGood to know. Guess Iâm in good hands.â
They finished gearing up, preparing for their headfirst dive into 1812 and all the chaos that awaited them. Buckyâs heart beat a little faster than usual; not just because of the mission but because of her. As they stood in front of the portal, Hannah glanced at him again. This time with a hint of something more serious in her gaze. âWe have one shot at this. Weâll have to blend in quickly, find the source of the anomaly, and fix it before anyone notices weâre out of place.â
Bucky nodded, slipping into his role as the experienced hunter. âGot it. Iâll take point, you stay close. You spot anything that stands out, you let me know. And Iâll handle any trouble that comes our way.â
He winked, half-serious, half-teasing, and Hannah gave him a nod. Effortlessly slipping into her own role as a professional. If she was anxious about stepping through that portal she showed no sign of it. âDeal.â
Without another word they stepped through the doorway, emerging into a world of snow and smoke. The biting cold hit them instantly and Bucky made an attempt to pull his coat tighter around himself. They were on the outskirts of Napoleonâs camp, the remnants of the battle strewn around them - discard weapons, makeshift tents, and the sound of men shouting in French. What this did not look like was an army on the brink of collapse. If anything these men were jubilant in victory. Bucky straightened his back, adopting the role of an officer of the French army. While Hannah moved beside him, the perfect image of a nurse ready to tend to the wounded. Together they strode through the camp, blending in with the chaos around them.Â
Bucky looked over at Hannah who was referring to her discreetly held TemPad. âWe should head towards the command tent,â she murmured under her breath. âThatâs where weâll find the anomaly.â
With a quick nod Bucky led the war through camp. His mind, though focused on the mission, kept circling back to her. That magnetic pull was still there. Simmering beneath the surface, making it harder than usual to keep his focus solely on the task at hand.Â
They reached the command tent where French officers were engaged in their own celebrations. Bucky readied himself to charm their way into the tent but it proved unnecessary. Hardly anyone paid them attention, the wine seemed to be flowing freely and their guard was down. He exchanged a look with Hannah, shrugged and ducked inside the tent.
The warmth of the command center was a welcome relief from the biting cold but Bucky barely noticed. His eyes were on the officers gathered inside who were less drunk than the men outside but still too inebriated to pay any mind to their arrival. There were some animated discussions happening he noted as they started moving around the perimeter of the tent. Chief of which was what the next move would be for the exalted march into Russia. One which should have ended with the last battle. But these men looked to be far from defeated. They clustered around the central table where a large map was rolled out onto the surface upon which had been organized miniature flags to represent ally and enemy positions.
Bucky stood tall, in full officer mode, ready to play his part. But his focus was split between the mission and the woman beside him. Both as a protector against any unwanted attention directed her way, and curiosity to see her at work. Hannah, in her role as a nurse, blended seamlessly with the chaos around them. Her sharp eyes never stopped moving, scanning maps, officers, and even the surrounding soldiers, looking for the smallest detail that felt out of place. Discreetly checking the readout of her TemPad to direct their search. Bucky admired how she could zero in on things no one else could. It was part of what made her so damn good at the job.
âWhat exactly are we looking for here?â Bucky muttered under his breath, close enough that only she could hear.
âSomething... off,â she whispered back, her eyes narrowing as she leaned closer to one of the maps on the table. âThe anomaly is subtle, but itâs here. Napoleon wasnât supposed to win that last battle, but someone, or something, intervened. Maybe future tech, I suspect a variant. We need to figure out how.â
Bucky leaned in, his arm brushing hers just slightly, enough for that electric feeling to surge through him again. This pull between them was not just about the mission. It was more than that. It went far deeper. He knew she felt it too. The way her breath hitched slightly when he was close, the way her eyes flicked toward him just a fraction longer than they needed to.
But there wasnât time to think about it. Not now.
Bucky glanced around the room, his eyes landing on a tall man at the far end of the tent, standing slightly apart from the others. His uniform was pristine, too pristine for the chaos surrounding them. Something about the way the man moved, how he scanned the room, set off alarms in Buckyâs head.
âOver there,â Bucky said quietly, nodding toward the man. âHe doesnât fit.â
Hannahâs eyes followed his gaze, and she nodded slightly, her expression hardening. âYouâre right. Heâs out of sync.â
âVariant?â Bucky asked, already knowing the answer.
Hannah nodded again. âMost likely. We need to get closer.â
Bucky smirked, his playful demeanor returning for just a second. âYou know, this is the part where you stay back, and I do the dangerous stuff.â
Hannah gave him a look that could cut steel. âNot a chance, Hunter.â
He could not help but grin, the magnetism between them only growing stronger with every second. It was not just the mission, it was her. They were drawn to each other like two stars on a collision course.
âFine, fine,â he muttered, adjusting the sword at his waist as they moved casually through the tent toward the suspicious officer. âJust donât go stealing all my glory, okay?â
âIâll try,â she teased, her voice soft but full of that sharp wit he was already starting to crave.
As they approached, Bucky shifted seamlessly into his role as a commanding officer, standing tall and authoritative. âMonsieur,â he called out in perfect French, âa word, if you please.â
The man turned slowly, his eyes cold, calculating. For a split second, Bucky saw it, just the smallest flicker of recognition in the manâs eyes, like he knew exactly who Bucky and Hannah were. It was something which would prey on his thoughts, but later. When he was in bed at night and unable to sleep. In the moment his instincts kicked in. Before the man could move, Buckyâs hand shot out, gripping his arm with enough force to keep him in place. âWeâre gonna need to have a little chat,â Bucky growled, his voice low and dangerous.
The man smirked, his lips twisting into something almost sinister. âYouâre too late,â he said in accented English. âThe timeline is already broken.â
Buckyâs eyes flashed toward Hannah, who was already working fast, her hands moving over the TemPad. âWe need to reset this now,â Hannah whispered, her fingers moving with precision as she worked.
The man laughed, a dark, cold sound. âNapoleon is already on the march to victory. You canât stop him.â
âWe donât need to stop him,â Bucky said, his voice dangerously calm. âWe just need to stop you.â In one swift motion, Bucky wrenched the man away from Hannah, pulling him toward the door of the tent. âGet the reset charge ready,â he barked at her, his eyes locked on the struggling variant in his grasp.
Hannah worked quickly, pulling out the device that would prune this unwanted timeline. Her eyes sharp and focused despite the chaos around them. As Bucky hauled the variant outside into the freezing cold, the man continued his taunts.
âYouâre playing a foolâs game,â the variant spat, his voice cold and mocking. âYou canât win.â
Buckyâs eyes hardened as he tightened the grip on the manâs arm. âWe donât have to win. We just have to fix it.â
In the next instant, Hannah appeared beside him, the reset charge in her hand, ready to go. She shot him a look, one that sent that familiar spark running through his veins. âYou ready?â
Bucky gave her a slow grin. âAlways.â
With one swift motion, she activated the charge then used her TemPad to summon a portal back to the TVA. Hurriedly she stepped through and Bucky followed, pushing variant ahead of himself. The reset charge began its work of pruning the dangerous branch of the sacred timeline. Its terrible purple light spilling forth, growing, consuming this aberration of the world until nothing remained.
Coming through the portal with the captured variant still grumbling under Buckyâs firm grip, they were returned to the TVA. Safe and successful in their mission.
The stark, fluorescent lighting of the TVA headquarters greeted them as the portal closed behind. The cold of 1812 was immediately replaced by the controlled, sterile environment of the organization that monitored all of time and space. Bucky hauled the variant forward, and a pair of Minutemen quickly appeared to take him into custody, their expressions unreadable as they shackled the man and led him toward processing.
âYouâll regret this!â the variant spat over his shoulder as the Minutemen dragged him away. âNapoleonâs victory was just the beginning!â
Bucky shrugged, his tone casual as he responded. âYeah, yeah. They all say that.â
Hannah watched the variant disappear with a look of satisfaction before turning to Bucky. âWell, that went better than expected.â
Bucky grinned, his carefree nature back in full swing now that the mission was over. âYou doubted us?â
âNever doubted myself,â she quipped, crossing her arms with a smirk. âYou, on the other handâŠâ
He chuckled, shaking his head. âYou wound me, Analyst.â
Together, they made their way down the gleaming corridors of the TVA. The first stop was to return their equipment and dispose of the disguises before donning their uniforms again. After that it was onto to file their report directly with Renslayer. Hannahâs delicate heels softly against the floor as they headed for the judgeâs office. Once they filed their mission report with her the assignment was over. Bucky felt the familiar weight of the mission lifting from his shoulders, but there was something else there too. A feeling which had been present at the very beginning. A different kind of tension, one that had been building between him and Hannah since the moment they met. Like gravity pulling him toward her, and no amount of professionalism could mask it. Not after everything they had just gone through. He knew she felt it too, the way she kept glancing at him from the corner of her eye, a small smile playing on her lips as they walked side by side.
Renslayerâs office loomed ahead, its imposing doors shut tight as usual. For now it was time to push this distraction aside. This inexplicable pull would still be there when work was done. Bucky knocked once and a second later, they were called in.
Ravonna Renslayer sat at her desk, sporting her usual composed expression in place as she looked up from her data pad. âReport,â she said simply, gesturing for them to begin.
Hannah took the lead, giving a brief but thorough overview of the mission. Outlining how Bucky identified the variant, recited details of the altered timeline and how it was ultimately reset. Bucky chimed in with the more tactical details, explaining the apprehension of the variant and to whom the individual had been passed over to on their return. Together, they made an efficient team, their account precise and clear.
Renslayer listened in silence. Her sharp gaze flicked between them as they spoke. When they finished, she leaned back in her chair, expression unreadable for a long moment.
âWell done,â she finally said, her voice cool. âThe timeline has stabilized, and the variant will be processed for judgment.â
Bucky inclined his head slightly, a subtle acknowledgment of the praise. âJust another day at the office.â
Hannah, always sharp, added, âThere may be more anomalies like this one. Weâll need to monitor any unusual disruptions in European history from that period to ensure no further variants interfere.â
Renslayer gave a curt nod but indulged them with a smile that expressed her pleasure with their efforts. âIâll have the analysts keep an eye on it. For now, get some rest. Your next assignment will come soon enough.â
With that she dismissed them and Bucky and Hannah turned to leave. As the doors shut behind them, Bucky let out a low whistle. That easygoing, carefree demeanor returning. Along with that easy smirk which was part of his irresistible charm.
âWell, that was fun.â
Hannah shot him a sidelong glance, a smile tugging at her lips. âFun, huh? Not the word Iâd use.â
âOh, come on. You canât tell me you didnât enjoy saving the timeline and dressing up like we were in some historical drama.â
She chuckled, shaking her head. âIâll admit, you make a pretty convincing officer.â
Bucky smirked, his eyes twinkling. âIâll take that as a compliment.â
As they walked down the hallway, the weight of the mission fully behind them now, Bucky focused more on his attraction to this woman at his side. The one that kept drawing him toward her, like fate teasing them with something inevitable. The thought of punching out at the end of this shift and going their separate ways felt wrong. They moved through the TVA, side by side, he debated exploring this connection with her. Fraternization was not exactly encouraged within the agency. Bucky found, on examination, he did not really care one way or another about the rules. He liked her, he enjoyed how she kept him on his toes. Rules be damned, he was going to take his shot.
âDrinks after work?â Bucky asked, throwing her a wink. âYou know, to celebrate saving the sacred timeline and all that.â
Hannah raised an eyebrow, but the smirk on her face told him she was not about to say no. âWhy not? After all, I did most of the heavy lifting.â
Bucky laughed, already looking forward to spending more time with her, both in and out of the field. âYeah, yeah Iâll let you have that one.â
There was a brief pause, and for the first time all day, neither of them felt the need to fill the silence. Instead they let the weight of the moment settle. They had completed the mission, filed the report, and the usual routine would have seen them going their separate ways until the next crisis. But not tonight.
âWell then,â Bucky said, straightening up and offering his arm with an exaggerated flourish. âShall we?â
Hannah rolled her eyes but slipped her hand through his anyway, her smile lingering. âLead the way.â
A short walk later, they found themselves at a small bar tucked outside the TVA headquarters. Light spilling into the night from the propped open door. The place was frequented by other hunters in their precious off-duty hours. Somewhere to relax and unwind, a gem of a place off the beaten track. The low hum of conversation and clinking glasses greeted them as they stepped inside. The lighting was warm, casting a soft glow over the tables and worn vinyl booths. It was a stark contrast to the sterile, rigid atmosphere of the TVA, and Bucky immediately felt the tension in his shoulders ease. He saw a few familiar faces and exchanged brief nods of greeting. Tonight was not the time for making introductions and smalltalk. Tomorrow there will be questions waiting for him. Plenty of them by the way his colleagues took in the redhead on his arm.
âThis is more like it,â Bucky said, flashing Hannah a grin. âNothing like a good drink after saving the timeline from complete collapse.â
Hannah followed, her eyes scanning the cozy space. She was still sharp, still on guard, but Bucky could see her relax a little too. âYou act like you do that every day,â she teased.
Bucky gave her a wink, then put a hand at her lower back and guided her towards a booth at the back. The touch, unplanned and instinctive, sent a sudden spark of heat through him. Judging by the way Hannahâs breath hitched she felt it too. âMaybe I do. Saving timelines is kind of my thing.â
Once they were seated the waitress came over for their orders. Bucky asked for a whiskey, neat. Hannah opted for a glass of red wine, her tone still laced with that playful edge.
âWine, huh?â Bucky mused after the waitress had retreated to fetch their orders.âI was expecting something with a bit more kick.â
Hannah raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. âTrust me, Hunter, I donât need a stiff drink to keep up with you.â
Bucky chuckled and shook his head slightly, his gaze briefly following the waitress as she walked away. He needed that drink, and fast. The whiskyâs burn would be a welcome distraction from the tension crackling between them. âKeep up? I thought you were all about bossing me around.â
âOh, donât worry,â she said, her voice low and teasing. âI can still boss you around, even with a glass of wine in me.â
There it was again that magnetic pull which left him almost breathless. The way she looked at him, the spark in her eyes, the confidence and challenge in her voice. It drove him crazy in the best way possible. Bucky leaned in slightly, his eyes never leaving hers. âKeep talking like that, and I might start thinking youâve got a thing for me.â
Hannah didnât flinch, her gaze steady. âAnd if I did?â
Bucky froze for a second, caught off guard by how direct she was. But he quickly realized there was no need to play games here. They both felt it. That pull, that connection, and pretending otherwise was pointless.
âIf you did,â he said, his voice low and a little rough, âthen Iâd say youâre not the only one.â
That declaration hit like a spark igniting dry kindling. Hannah did not say anything, but the way her eyes flickered to his lips, the way her breath caught, told him everything he needed to know. He was not the only one feeling it. But there would be risks to indulge what they were feeling. They were standing on the edge of something, and all it would take was one step forward to change everything. Bucky hesitated for just a second, his gaze locked on hers. What he had to gain was worth any risk he decided.
Slowly he closed the distance between them, lifting his hand. Gently he brushed against her cheek, his thumb tracing her skin in a way that sent a jolt of electricity through both of them. Hannah leaned into his touch, sighing with what he took as relief, her eyes fluttering shut for just a moment before they met with his gaze again.
That was all the invitation he needed.
In one fluid motion, Bucky closed the gap between them, his lips capturing hers in a kiss. Pouring into it all the tension they had been holding back all day. It was deep, passionate, and intense. The kind of kiss that told them both there was no going back now. Her hands found their way to his chest, gripping his shirt as if she didnât want to let go, and he pulled her closer, deepening the kiss as the world around them seemed to fade away.
For a long moment, it was just them. No mission, no TVA, no timeline to save. Not even the cozy bar and a few slack-jawed hunters watching the scene in awe. Just Bucky and Hannah, giving in to the pull that had been drawing them together from the start.
Finally they broke apart, both of them breathless. His heart was pounding in his chest. Bucky rested his forehead against hers, a small smile tugging at his lips. âWell⊠that was something.â
Hannah laughed softly, still catching her breath, but there was a glint of playfulness in her eyes. âYeah. Something.â
They stayed close for a moment with the buzz of the bar in the background. Bucky finally noticed the drinks were on the table. Had they been so lost in each other not to even notice the waitress? He barked a laugh and reached for Hannahâs wine, passing her the glass before taking his own. Wondering as he saw the flush in her cheeks how they ever managed to hold back for so long. This felt inevitable. Bucky knew this moment had been written in time just for them.
But even in the midst of that thought, reality started to settle back in. The TVA. Their jobs. The fact that as far as their work was concerned, this probably was not a great idea. Hannah seemed to be thinking the same thing because she pulled back slightly, expression softening.
âWeâre going to have to keep this quiet,â she murmured, her fingers brushing against his shirt as she spoke. âFor the sake of work.â
Bucky nodded, understanding but not particularly liking the idea of keeping things hidden. âYeah⊠probably smart. Donât want Renslayer breathing down our necks.â
She chuckled softly, nodding in agreement. âExactly. But⊠doesnât mean we canât see where this goes.â
Bucky grinned, his hand still resting gently on her cheek. âDamn right. Iâm not about to let this go.â
She smiled, leaning in to steal one last kiss before pulling back again, her eyes gleaming with that familiar spark. âGood. Now, how about we finish these drinks and get out of here?â
Bucky laughed, feeling lighter than he had in a long time. âDeal. But just so you know, you wonât be bossing me around.â
Hannah smirked, her voice full of that playful confidence he loved. âWeâll see about that.â
As they sat back down at the bar, the tension between them still simmering beneath the surface, Bucky couldnât help but think that whatever came next. For them, for the mission, for their future. Whatever it was, it was going to be one hell of a ride. And for the first time in a long time he was looking forward to every second of it.
We lost our lovely girl Penni after having the privilege of knowing and loving her these last three years. It wasnât nearly enough time. She was a remarkable girl. Despite some years of hardship she remained so full of love.
Iâll say I only requested the Cameo last night so darling Mister Taylor turned this around fast. Also, my Draconic Sorceress is stoked to have (very limited) access to the restricted section of books. Finally vindicated against a certain wizard of Waterdeep and his âbut you are not learned in magicâ nonsense.