#fantasy vs reality

[djkerr]

Sophie Baek + Lady in Silver ✨

Bridgerton Season 4

[darksuitfantasies]

Conference Room #2 After Hours (Chp 7)

Michael Bluth x Reader tags: Slow burn, Office tension, Jealousy, Angst with a hint of fluff POV: Your perspective Rating: 🔥 (18+) Summary: We’re switching things up—this chapter is told from your POV and the next chapter will be from Michaels POV. The night at the office takes on a whole new light as the HR email stirs up more than just laughter, and suddenly the boundaries between reality and imagination start to blur. 👀 Next up, we’ll see the same events again through Michael’s eyes… and let’s just say his perspective is a little different.

The night started like most others: fluorescent lights humming, a vending machine buzzing like it had a personal grudge, and me cradling a cup of reheated coffee that technically qualified as food if you didn’t think about it too hard. Michael and I had found ourselves in that strange rhythm we’d been keeping since the elevator incident—closer, but pretending not to be. Pretending not to notice each other had become our unofficial side hustle.

Then the ping. HR email. Subject line screaming in bright red:

REMINDER: Misconduct & Office Etiquette.

I perked up immediately. “Well, somebody’s in trouble.”

Michael didn’t even look up. “Do I want to know?”

“Yes. Obviously.”

I read it aloud, milking every word. “Due to a recent incident involving inappropriate conduct between an employee and their administrative assistant…”

He groaned like the weight of the world had just been added to his to-do list. “Great.”

“…the individuals were discovered in the janitor’s closet. During work hours. With clothing partially removed.”

I covered my mouth but couldn’t keep the laughter in. “Oh my God, Michael—there are descriptions.”

He closed his eyes like if he concentrated hard enough, I’d disappear. “Please don’t.”

“…tie left hanging from the cabinet handle…”

He sighed, the most defeated sound in the world. “Of course there was a tie.”

“…filing cabinet used in a manner inconsistent with office safety standards.”

That did it. I broke. Laughing so hard I snorted. Michael gave me a look—the kind you give a toddler about to throw juice on the carpet—which only made me laugh harder.

But under the humor, something shifted. The email wasn’t just absurd. It was… vivid. And once planted, the images had a way of lingering.

––

Filing duty later meant trading the glow of the monitor for a wall of paper, which was both better and worse. Better, because I could take “phone breaks” without Michael’s patented judgey side-eye. Worse, because the quiet left too much space for my brain to circle back to that email.

The idea of two people sneaking around at work should’ve been scandalous. Instead, it was… alluring. Like a spark hidden in the endless monotony of folders and staples.

As if summoned, Michael appeared in the doorway, hands in his pockets, face set in that long-suffering expression. “Seems filing is the only way you actually do any work around here,” he said, tone dry as dust.

I rolled my eyes. “Wow. Incredible material. Did you practice that one in the mirror first?”

He smirked faintly. For him, that was basically stand-up comedy.

I stretched to slot the next folder onto the top shelf and instantly regretted my stubbornness. It was just out of reach. I tried again, tiptoes straining, refusing to ask for help.

Behind me, Michael made a noise—half amusement, half exasperation. “You done yet?”

“Perfectly capable,” I snapped, stretching again.

He chuckled. And then, predictably, he moved in. “Will you just—” He brushed my hand aside, frustration undercut with that gentle restraint he always carried, like he couldn’t bring himself to actually be rough even when he wanted to. “Honestly, you’d rather break your arm than let me grab it?”

The file slid easily into his hand. And I—unfortunately—noticed everything. The muscles in his forearm flexing. The way his shirt stretched across his shoulders. The warmth of him, close enough that the air seemed heavier.

Flash #1 His arm braced beside me. His other hand gripping my hips, thumb pressing in as he leaned down, voice low: “What, no thank you? Bad girl.” His breath hot against my ear, a thrill racing down my spine—

––Reality snapped.

“Hello?” Michael waved a hand in front of my face. “You okay, or did the files put you in a coma?”

“Fine,” I said too quickly, yanking the folder from his hand.

“You sure? You looked spaced out.”

If only he knew he was the center of the trance. My cheeks burned as I ducked back into the paperwork. “Fine,” I repeated, quieter this time, hoping he wouldn’t notice the flush in my face.

But of course he did. Michael always noticed. He just pretended not to.

After what felt like hours, I made my way back into the main office. The hum of the overhead lights mixed with the steady clack of Michael’s typing. He didn’t even acknowledge me—just kept going, shoulders tense, eyes locked on the screen.

“Ava gone?” I finally broke the rhythm of his keyboard.

Michael paused long enough to rub at his eyes, looking exhausted in that way only he could make seem mildly performative. “Yeah. Sent her home early. You seemed to have the filing figured out all on your own.” A smirk tugged at his mouth.

I rolled my eyes, dropping into the chair across from him. “Hilarious. I get it—I’m stubborn. But good call. I don’t think me and Ava can ‘get along’ for long.” I repeated the words, this time serious.

Michael pushed back from his desk and stood, stretching his arms above his head. His shirt lifted just enough to reveal a sliver of skin—soft line of a happy trail, muscles I hadn’t expected from him, a hint of heat under the crisp button-down exterior. My eyes darted there before I could stop myself.

“Well, I never really understood why you don’t like her,” he said, voice casual, but his stretch held my attention hostage.

“She’s… a lot,” I started, but the words thinned out. My brain wasn’t cooperating. Not when all I could think about was how I’d pegged Michael Bluth as the dapper, smug office pain—the boss’s son who lived for one-liners. I hadn’t accounted for him having actual muscle beneath all that irony.

He laughed, disarming me completely, the sound rough and real. “Well, she can be a lot… like someone else I know.” He shot me a glance now that his stretch was finished.

“What?! We’re nothing alike.” I pushed up from my chair, too fast, defensive. His words still landed, though, lodging in my chest. Maybe I was a little like her. Maybe.

“Well,” I admitted, softer. “Maybe just a tiny bit.” The admission loosened something in me. My shoulders sagged with relief—until I realized how close Michael had gotten.

I blinked, startled to find him right there, invading my space. Not in a bad way—never in a bad way. His presence was heat, steady and overwhelming.

Flash #2 He tilts my jaw with his hand, guiding my eyes up to his. They’re blue and intense enough to melt through me, cheeks heating under the weight of it. His thumb brushes across my skin, sweeping a strand of hair from my face. “You may be like her,” he says lowly, “but I like the parts that aren’t like her a lot. And the ones that are, too.” His breath ghosts across my cheek. His touch tightens, promising more—

––Reality snapped.

“Hello? Are you listening?” Michael’s voice pulled me back. He was still across the desk, waving a hand like I’d drifted into space.

My cheeks burned. “Yeah. Sorry. Just… tired.”

“Uh-huh.” He gave me that skeptical look, like he could see through the excuse but wasn’t about to call it out.

I rubbed my eyes and pushed to my feet, grabbing my bag. “I think I need some coffee.”

What I really needed was fresh air. A smoke. Something to shake the haze of fantasies that kept spiraling tighter around him. Because if I didn’t get out soon, I was bound to say something very, very stupid.

The night air would have to beat it out of me. Or at least keep me from blurting out just how much I wanted those fantasies to stop being fantasies.

The air hit me before I even lit up—cool and sharp, wrapping around me like a reminder the city could still breathe even when I felt like I couldn’t. I leaned against the fence, watching headlights dwindle as the streets emptied. The silence was steady, grounding.

Then the rooftop door creaked. The familiar scrape of shoes. Michael.

I smiled without looking. “You really love keeping tabs on me, don’t you?”

It was our routine by now—me sneaking away, him finding me, the banter inevitable. But this time his voice was lower, more deliberate.

“I do,” he said. A pause, heavier than usual. “And I also… love you.”

My breath caught. The joint slipped from my hand, forgotten on the concrete. I turned slowly, disbelief warring with the sudden thrum of my pulse.

“You—you what?”

He stepped closer, closing the space until my back brushed the fence. His arms braced on either side of me, trapping me in a cage of warmth and tension. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes—God, those eyes—burned.

“I love you,” he repeated. Not flippant. Not sarcastic. Just bare.

My throat tightened. “Michael… don’t—don’t joke about that.”

“Do I look like I’m joking?” His voice cracked just slightly, soft but firm. He tilted his head, closing the distance. “You drive me insane. You’re stubborn, difficult, you argue just to win. And I…” His eyes flicked to my lips. “…I love all of it. Especially the parts I shouldn’t.”

The words broke something open inside me. My hands clenched in his shirt before I realized they’d moved. “Say it again,” I whispered.

His lips hovered a breath away. “I love you.”

The kiss was inevitable. At first, hesitant—his mouth brushing mine like he wasn’t sure if this was allowed. But the hesitation crumbled. Heat poured in. His hand slid along my jaw, the other gripping my hip, pulling me flush against him.

I gasped into his mouth, and the sound seemed to undo him. The kiss turned hungry, desperate, years of restraint unraveling in seconds. My fingers dug into his shoulders, his teeth grazed my lip, and for one perfect moment the world dissolved into just this. Just him.

When I finally tore away, breathless, I opened my eyes.

No one.

The rooftop was empty. The door hadn’t moved since I’d walked out.

The phantom heat still burned on my lips.

I slapped my cheek, trying to chase the haze. Frustration twisted hot in my chest—why now? Why was this bubbling up like the HR email had flipped some hidden switch?

Bag in hand, I left fast. Down the stairs, into the street, sending a rushed text just to avoid facing Michael. But no matter how quick my steps, the words chased me:

I love you. I love you. I love you.

On loop. A hundred times. Words he had never said. Words he might never say.

[howifeltabouthim]

The wonder I'd felt . . . shriveled to nothing. Cold, hard reality slammed back into me.

Kate Stevens, from Bride of Brutal Hearts

[clairegregoryau]

Through the Looking Glass

From fairytale in Season 1 to stark reality in Season 2 of Our Flag Means Death- meta ported across from this Twitter thread by popular demand!

This thread contains spoilers for the entirety of OFMD Season 2

First OFMD S1 rewatch since S2, and holy shit, if you haven't done that yet... do that. A thing that it made instantly clear: they told us *all along* where this was going, but there was a reason we didn't see it. Because we were living in Stede's world then. Now it's Ed's.

I know that a lot of us have felt that the tone shift at the end of S2 was... jarring, compared to what's come before. This felt like a show that wouldn't go there. One where being run through was a temporary hiccup. We've travelled all the way from this to this.

But we haven't jumped there without a journey in between. And from the minute we started hearing about Blackbeard, the show never tried to hide what Ed's world and his specific life was like. Not once. In fact they told us over and over and over.

But Season 1 told us a lot of those things through song and story and fuckery. It blended reality with fiction.

Stede met the Blackbeard he knew through books and tall tales, and the real man was even more wonderful than he'd imagined.

We, along with Stede, were comfortable thinking that all those other tales were exaggerations and misrepresentations, and a lot of them very likely were.

The Ed Stede got to know was a person who was capable of whimsy and silliness and loved soft things and doing something weird. Yep, he was also capable of violence and rage, but when he was with Stede, he didn't feel it so much.

This was a vacation from that life.

To Stede he was absolutely lovely... oh, and also a bloodthirsty killer. And Stede loved (and loves) everything about him, and both of those things can be true. This is a perfect example of a spot where (in watching Season 1 without the benefit of hindsight) I assumed that everyone else in that pub was wrong, and Stede was simply trying to protect Ed's fearsome reputation by agreeing on the bloodthirsty bits. And I think from Stede's perspective that was largely true. I think that's how they wanted us to see Ed, through his eyes. Now, after watching both seasons, I think it wasn't the whole picture.

They told us, we heard it, we saw glimpses of it. But we (and Ed) were in Stede's run-away-to-sea fairytale the whole time. It wasn't until Stede left that we saw the reality- the Ed we knew had been, to a degree, a fictional character all along. I always saw this scene as Ed putting a bit of distance between himself and reality; it always felt like the Blackbeard of Stede's storybooks was the fictional one. But now it feels like the softer Ed that Stede knew was much the same- neither of them the whole story of who Ed was and is.

The one person who refused to live in Stede's fairytale was Izzy. I've seen people say it before, but he always gave off that vibe of the only human in the Muppets movie, or the guy who was in Black Sails while everyone else was in Pirates of the Caribbean. He saw the real risks clearly.

And in that light, the end of S1 has shifted an inch to the left for me, and I'm seeing it at a slightly different angle.

Izzy ripped away the healing Ed was doing, but in some respects he did it by tearing away the fairytale we'd all been living in, shoving Ed back into the Blackbeard story.

And that's where we pick up again in Season 2.

The fairytale reference came back in S2 in two notable places, those being Jim carrying that legacy forward in the darkest times, and in Izzy invoking the wooden boy against Ricky's efforts. Stede's made himself into a real boy. Ricky, nope.

Now that I've watched both seasons together, the tone shift doesn't feel so jarring at all, actually.

It feels like sliding through the looking glass, out of Stede's world, and into Ed's- a world that existed all along; we were just seeing it, la vie en rose, through Stede's eyes.

At the beginning of S2, Stede's gone, and we're seeing it unfiltered through Ed's reality.

But Stede wasn't lying when he said he loved everything about Ed. He made a promise to come back and find him- he went down into Ed's darkest place and reminded him that no matter how bad things got, there WAS someone waiting for him, ready to love him.

The contrast between S1's fantasy and S2's reality (excluding mermaids and actual bird guys and cursed coats) is stark, but it really is that.

We have the same settings, the same people, and very different ideas and outcomes at different times.

But it was always there.

Things do come back to a state of (precarious) balance once they're all together. Apologies are made, whether they're spoken out loud or through actions. Things go right, things go wrong. Healing happens. Izzy continues to have the steadiest, most real through-line in the story as he tracks toward redemption, finds acceptance, and to an extent finds himself.

Once again, I hate that they went here with the ending and I wish they hadn't. But it got a fraction easier for me looking at it not as a continuation of Stede's fairytale, but of the grounded-in-pirate-reality arc Izzy was always on, even while we lived in Stede's world.

Where does that leave us? We're not going back to the fairytale, but we're not going to be living in Black Sails for S3, either. We've hit a fusion point where S1 ended with each of them going to separate, miserable homes, but S2 ended with them in the same place, ready and willing to make a go of it.

Season 3 is going to give us their world, together.

I LOVED the moments in this season where the deep emotions were in balance with the silliness I've always adored about this show. Eps4-6 were wonderful like that. Clearly we're not done with drama, either, but like Ed and Stede, I think we'll find a middle ground.

Anyway in conclusion, a rewatch of S1 after S2 somehow made me love the first season even more, which felt impossible? It's now gained /even more/ layers of depth than it had before. No matter how you feel about S2 I think it's worth that rewatch.

Adding one more bit of clarity for myself: I think we got a bit (intentionally) seduced in S1 by the idea that the Ed of the storybooks, the Vampire Viking Clown with the nine guns, was a version of him that others saw, when Stede saw the REAL person who 'worked' for Blackbeard.

In hindsight I think it's clear the Ed Stede go to know was also not the complete version of himself- the reality is, there's a whole spectrum between the two, and they've landed in the middle of it now. Ed intentionally leaned into the unlovable Kraken image to protect himself.

It very much didn't work, just like being just... Edward hadn't worked to protect himself, either. This season has been very much about pulling those two extremes together and finding all the parts that make up Ed overall (another thread on that here on Twitter, which I'll also shift across to Tumblr soon!)

And I think one of my favourite things in S2 has been seeing the way Stede SEES that- he knows what Ed's done, everyone's told him, but he still loves Ed. sees his trauma and how it affects him, and believes he's a good man regardless. He IS lovable; he's not forever broken.

And together, they can heal.

[sjsmith56]

Perfect

Summary: After being rescued by Bucky Barnes a woman wonders if her fantasy can ever become reality.

Length: 2.9 K

Characters: Named but undescribed OFC, Bucky Barnes

Warnings: Dangerous situation with fear of death, self-deprecation, lack of confidence, no smut.

Author notes: Set after Avengers: Doomsday when I assume ALL the Avengers will be one big happy family. Information about the phenomena of crowd panic from Science.org website article No Panic Please, September 28, 2000. https://www.science.org/content/article/no-panic-please. Information on statistics of the first name Violet was based on data from https://www.mynamestats.com/First-Names/V/VI/VIOLET/index.html

🔹 🔹 🔹

They meet

It wasn't a meet cute. In fact, it was one of the most frightening days of her life. A day at the crowded zoo with Violet's sister and her children was supposed to be fun, full of laughter and joy. While her sister pushed the baby in the stroller, Violet held hands with her four-year-old nephew Casey, swinging them back and forth as they recited nursery rhymes. They were walking towards the children's zoo when they heard a commotion ahead of them. Then they noticed people running in their direction; parents holding their children close to their chests, couples running with their hands clenched together, others doing their best to hurry their families away from whatever was happening.

Picking Casey up, Violet looked past the people that were streaming towards them to determine the reason for the problem. As several masked people with guns came into view, firing them into the air and roaring for everyone to move, it felt like the end of the world to her. There was only chaos and when she turned back, her sister was gone, swept away by the rush of people, leaving her with Casey. Jostled by the swarm of everyone trying to escape the shooters, Violet held him tight, running with the flow of humanity with only one thought in her mind ... to get away.

The scary thing about being in the middle of a panicked crowd is that there is no organization to it. If you are caught up in it, you don't know where to go or what to do, really. It's not like there are guides on how to handle being in a group of people that are running amok. Scientists who study the phenomenon certainly can't get to an event while it happens because it's over so fast. Even if they studied later footage of such occurrences taken from security cameras, there were still blind spots that removed valuable data leaving the experts to make assumptions that may or may not be correct. For a time, they did use computer simulations, where the crowds were programmed to behave like fluids but the big disadvantage to that was that fluids didn't feel pain, didn't stumble, causing a chain reaction of more people stumbling and creating a choke point that would have dire consequences. More importantly, fluids didn't make decisions on which way to go, because a panicked crowd doesn't always choose the path of least resistance. They choose the closest or the most prominent path or exit and in the case of people with guns herding them by firing them in the air, they would go in any direction away from that danger, even if that led them to a solid wall.

That was certainly true of the mass of people that Violet followed as they ran haphazardly away from the guns. Being so far back in the crowd, she couldn't even see where the exits were and had to trust that the people at the front could. Then the crowd suddenly slowed down, stopped, and backed up when they reached a single gate that let only a trickle of people out. As she turned to face the shooters, realizing that she couldn't get out before they reached her, she held Casey close to her chest, covering his eyes so that he couldn't see the people who were coming to kill them. In what she thought were her last moments she told the little boy that she loved him, that Mama loved him, as well as Dada, Nana, and Papa, and that she was with him. Then she began to cry.

Suddenly a man in black with a metal arm fell from the sky right in front of her, told her to get down, and faced the people with the guns, literally using his metal arm to deflect bullets away from her and Casey. While the guns kept firing, he stalked towards the shooters and beat the everliving shit out of those that got too close to him. Still sheltering Casey, she laughed and yelled as she witnessed the man in black and several others who had also dropped onto the scene battle the shooters back, to where an armed task force waited with guns drawn, forcing them onto their knees and surrender, ending what the media called the Zoo incident.

When the man in black turned around, and made eye contact with her, she knew that she had just met the love of her life. Standing up, she watched and waited as he walked towards her and Casey, his blue eyes focused just on her. She had never seen a man as magnificent as him, with a body that could have been on the cover of a romance novel and thick dark hair that was swept back just so. He was perfect.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, when he was just a few feet away from her. "Is your son alright?"

"He's not my son," she murmured. "We're good. Who are you?"

"Avengers," he said, looking to where several of his fellow Avengers were also inquiring about whether people were hurt before returning his gaze to her. "You're sure?"

"Um, I might have twisted my ankle."

She limped, bringing a smile to his face that almost made her swoon right there. Coming closer to her, she looked up at him, totally lost in the moment at the sight of the bearded man in front of her.

"May I?" She nodded then yelped a little when he easily picked her and Casey up in his arms. "Let's get you checked out."

Effortlessly, he carried her to where emergency personnel had already set up a treatment area. Directed to place her on a gurney, he gently laid her on it, ruffled Casey's hair, then turned to leave.

"Wait!" she cried. "What's your name?"

"Bucky," he answered, his body poised to return to evacuate more of the wounded. "What's yours?"

"Violet."

That smile appeared again. "Pretty name. I'll be seeing you, Violet."

Then he turned and headed back out to where others were waiting to be helped. She watched him carry more people into the treatment area, mostly kids or senior citizens, and each time Bucky returned he looked more and more heroic. Then her sister found her, and they had a tearful reunion that made it onto the evening news. When she looked again, straining to see her rescuer, the Avengers were gone. After being released with a taped-up ankle, Violet returned to her family and another tearful reunion. Over the following week she accepted that meeting the love of her life wasn't meant to lead to anything more and decided to move on. Still, whenever the Avengers showed up on the news for the next month, she looked to see if Bucky Barnes was featured.

They meet again – one month later

Checking her phone for the umpteenth time as she waited near a Midtown restaurant, Violet wondered what was keeping her girlfriend, Nina. It had been a few months since they last saw each other, and she had taken today off to have lunch with the woman who had been her best friend since junior high school. Her phone vibrated with the message that Nina couldn't make it. A four-year-old who had been the reason she was late due to having a tantrum had just thrown up all over her. With a sigh, Violet texted her back that it was alright and she looked around, wondering what she was going to do now that she had an empty afternoon ahead of her.

Somehow, she found herself a block away from the Watchtower, home of all the Avengers. She could grab a hot dog and sit across the street on the off chance that Bucky Barnes would come strolling out the door. Perhaps, he would recognize her and look at her, remembering the day he saved her and Casey at the zoo. Then he would smile and touch her cheek, ask her out and .... She sighed. Who was she kidding? That day was a brief moment in her boring life where she allowed herself to believe in a fantasy, nothing more. With a last look up at the tower, she turned around and walked right into a brick wall, built in the shape of a man. Falling backwards she landed on her backside, then looked up into the blue eyes of the object of her fantasy, Bucky Barnes himself.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, grinning a little. "It's Violet, isn't it? You were at the zoo."

She gulped. "You remember me?"

"Sure, I remember you. It's not everyday you meet a pretty lady with the name Violet." He offered her his hand, easily pulling her up, then gazed at her with those mesmerizing blue eyes. "Why are you here?"

"I was supposed to meet a friend for lunch, but she cancelled," replied Violet. "I started walking and ended up...." Her voice trailed off as her face heated up in embarrassment, and she looked away. "Sorry. I'll just go."

His face softened as he tilted his head a little. "Have lunch with me."

"Oh, no. You don't want that." She shook her head and stepped away, fidgeting with her purse. "I'm not ...."

Her voice trailed off again, and she stepped back once more, desperate to remove herself from his scrutiny. It was stupid to think that someone like him would ever see anything in someone like her.

"Are you afraid of me?"

She stopped in her tracks. "No! No, I'm just ... flustered." Her hands fluttered in front of her. "You're so ... perfect and I'm ... not."

Pressing her lips together, Violet turned around and walked away, lowering her head, speeding up in order to put as much distance as she could between herself and Bucky. All she could think of was how stupid she must be to ever believe that a fantasy could become reality. Life didn't work that way, at least it didn't for her. Aware of someone walking quickly behind her, then beside her, she glanced in that direction, startled to see it was Bucky. Stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, she ignored the people who swore at her for blocking them. His hand touched her elbow, gently guiding her to the side. If it had been any other man, she would have pulled away, but she just let him move her.

"Hey," he said, in a soft voice, as he leaned against the building. "Look at me."

"I can't."

"Why?"

"Because."

"Sweetheart, you're not making sense," he chuckled. "Just look at me and explain why you think I'm perfect, because I assure you, I'm far from it." She remained mute, not trusting herself to say anything that didn't sound demented. "I've thought about you."

"What?" She looked at him.

"I've thought about you, of how you looked from above, just before I dropped down in front of you. You had no place to go but you protected that little boy you were holding, making sure that he didn't see the guys with the guns. I could hear what you were telling him." He tapped his ear. "Super hearing. You wanted him to know that he was loved. You were very brave."

"I was terrified."

"You can be both." He smoothed some loose hair over her ear. "Then you started to cry, and I wasn't going to wait for the quinjet to land. I jumped right then and there. Saving you and that little boy was the most important thing for me at that moment. Is he okay?"

"Casey? He's fine." She swallowed then it was like she couldn't stop talking. "He doesn't remember anything. He's my nephew. We got separated from my sister and her baby girl. It happened so fast, and I got swept up in that crowd and I couldn't see where to go. Then we stopped and I realized we weren't going to make it. So, I just decided that if that was where we died then I would make sure he wasn't alone. That he had me right to the end."

She wiped her face, startled to realize that she was crying when her hands came away wet. Suddenly she was wrapped in Bucky's muscular arms, as he murmured soft words to her, words that she really didn't hear but felt because they rumbled from where her head pressed against his chest, making her feel safe and warm. Placing her arms around his waist, she accepted the comfort that he freely gave to her. It felt so right in ways that she couldn't even articulate. Every part of her absorbed everything he gave her as they stood at the side of the busy sidewalk in Manhattan, being held by this man who had jumped from the sky to save her.

Time seemed to slow for them until Violet loosened her hold on him, and Bucky followed her lead. He already had a folded handkerchief in his hand and used it to dab away the remaining tears from her cheeks, his face close enough to hers that she could see freckles on his skin. A hiccup escaped from her throat, making that incredible smile creep across his face.

"Better?" She nodded. "Your makeup needs some fixing. Come to the Tower to get cleaned up. I can order some lunch in."

"You're sure I won't be intruding?"

"I'm sure."

Lifting his hand towards her, he took a few steps then looked back, waiting for her to take it or not. With a quick breath, she took his hand and walked into the Watchtower with him. As a visitor, she had to provide ID to prove she wasn't a reporter or a deranged fan, but Bucky stayed beside her through the process, that included having her picture taken. When the security desk issued her a temporary ID card for access, she grimaced at how her face looked.

"I should have cleaned up before they took my picture."

"Don't worry about it," said Bucky, as they approached the elevator. "You can get a new picture when you get your permanent card."

Violet stopped. "A permanent card?"

The elevator doors opened. Taking her hand, he stepped inside, then waited for the doors to close.

"I meant to come back to you at the zoo, but we were called to another incident and had to scramble. When I got back you were gone. Do you know how hard it is to find a single person in the city of New York, even when she has such a unique first name? At the last census there were almost 57,000 people named Violet in the United States, almost 3700 in New York State. I didn't know if you lived here or if you were a visitor. You weren't on any of the security videos, so I had no way to even do a facial recognition search. I gave up hope that I would ever find you."

"You were looking for me?"

He leaned across her and pressed the STOP button on the elevator. There was music playing at a volume that was just loud enough to hear, something familiar but Violet couldn't remember what it was. Bucky licked his lips then leaned sideways against the wall, casually crossing his arms over his chest. He was close enough that she was aware of the heat that radiated from him, but far enough away that she didn't feel crowded.

"Yeah, I was looking for you. Why wouldn't I? You're beautiful, brave, and from the moment I saw you I thought you were perfect."

In one of Violet's favourite movies, Sense and Sensibility, there's a moment when the heroine, Eleanor Dashwood, finds out that the man she loves with all of her heart isn't married and is free to marry her. At that rare moment of Eleanor losing her composure, she gasped out a sudden cry. It always affected Violet whenever she watched that scene but the rational part of her knew that it was something written into the script to emphasize the scene, since it wasn't really something written in the book, except to say she ran out of the room and gave into a crying fit once the door was closed, away from the view of Edward Ferrars, the man she loved.

The cry that came out of Violet's throat when Bucky called her perfect would always come back to her whenever the couple shared how they met. Its sudden eruption, and the fact that the man who caused it immediately engulfed her in his arms again, became the moment they both knew that they were perfect for each other. In a repeat of what happened on the street, Bucky held her, with the addition of placing a comforting kiss on top of her head. That led to their first actual kiss, gently bestowed on each other in the stationary glass elevator car that looked out over New York City. By the time they got to the residential floor so Violet could use Bucky's bathroom to "fix her face," the common area was full of the other Avengers who witnessed the kiss via the security camera. They all thought it was a unique way to begin a relationship. To her amusement several called dibs on being part of the wedding party. That was when she remembered the name of the song playing in the elevator.  It was Perfect by Ed Sheeran, and suddenly her fantasy became her reality.

One Shots Masterlist

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[djkerr]

SO ready for Sophie and Benedict to be in a relationship in the real world. ✨

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[livelovecaliforniadreams]

Fantasy vs Reality

[howifeltabouthim]

I wanted to grab him and pull him against me. Instead, I stayed still, maintaining an impassive expression.

Jessica Gross, from Open Wide