her bookstore girlâK.B
Synopsis: Kate wasnât a fan of literature, but who knew she'd enjoy her time in a bookstore all thanks to a nameless girl. Her bookstore girl.
Pairing: Kate Bishop x Fem!Barton!Reader
Warnings: cursing, gay panics, kate bishop being an absolute gay
Word count: 2.2k
inspired by bookstore girl by charlie burg.
part I // part II
Kate Bishop wasnât a fan of literature.
It was the simple thought of reading a book that Kate couldnât wrap her head around. How could someone possibly, without being held at gunpoint, enjoy sitting through endless pages of ink for hours, especially those with the literal thickness of an Oxford English Dictionary which shouldâve been labeled as âfamily-sizedâ.
There were plenty of other options that would entertain her for ages, whether it be honing her archery skills or simply running away from her adult responsibilitiesâbut nothing that would require the patience needed to read and decipher the damn words in her brain.Â
Yet, here she was, accompanying her friends on their weekly visits to the local bookstore near campus. The shop bell chimed above their heads as they entered the bookstore. Sounds of wandering footsteps and the rustle of turning pages filled the small space.
Glancing back at her friends, Kate chuckled as she noticed theyâd already been scouring through the shelves for whatever book that hooked their interest, each one excitedly exclaiming the titles theyâd come across. Might as well try to do something productive. Kate made her way towards the nearest aisle, mindlessly browsing through various books and papers without paying actual heed to their covers.Â
Amidst a sea of literature and moving figures, it was there where she passed the first aisle of shelves when her eyes caught sight of you. Standing behind the checkout counter, an apron was dressed neatly over your work uniform. You were busy processing payment from patrons, chatting up those who asked for some book recommendations, evidently enjoying every second of your position.
With each new customer passing through the door, you glanced up to meet each of them with a smile before returning to what youâd been doing previously. It was all so mundane yet so enchanting, and Kate found herself smiling fondly at the scene before her. She knew better than to be indiscreet. If anyone were to happen upon this particular moment, theyâd assume the archer was watching you like a creep.Â
As if sensing she was staring, you finally turned in her direction and her eyebrows rose in surprise, immediately averting her gaze as Kate failed to keep a soft squeak from slipping her lips.
Shit... Your expression changed, though, not entirely out of concern or worry. But confusion, or maybe even amusement? Kate couldâve sworn she spotted a slight quirk tugging at the corner of your lips as you waved at her. Was she imagining things? No, that definitely was amusement playing around with your features.Â
âThere you are! Franny, I found her.â Kate jumped, snapping out of her reverie as her hand instinctively went up to cover her mouth in a desperate attempt to muffle her loud gasp. Dammit! Now she definitely looked like a creep. Turning to her friends, she noticed them standing before her with their arms crossed. A smug grin on their lips, clearly amused by her reaction.Â
âWoah, Kate. Whatâs got your knickers in a twist?âÂ
âI-â
Then it hit her. How was she supposed to explain herself without sounding completely weird? Great, just great. Rubbing the scruff of her neck, Kate cleared her throat before settling for a shrug as she spoke, her voice noticeably more strained than usual.Â
âWait, is that the book youâve been rambling about for the past week?âÂ
Unwittingly, her gaze trailed over Greerâs shoulder as she spotted you behind the counter once again, your attention no longer lingering on her, and instead, the scanner in your grasp scanned the bottom of a bookâs back cover as you greeted the next customer in line.
Then, you smiled, but it wasnât for her. Kate knew that, of course, as she watched a seeming co-worker in the same apron as yours approach you. But it was the fact that she was nobody but a stranger in your eyes, just as you were to her. Something within her stung, and she felt silly for reacting so strongly to a random, smiling person.Â
âYeah, yeah. I couldnât find a book that caught my eye, didnât wanna force myself to read something I wonât enjoy, you know,â Kate replied nonchalantly as someone else stood in your position as you followed your co-worker into the storeroom.Â
âHuh? Did you even listen to what Iâve just said?â Fuck, she said something wrong, didnât she?Â
âUh...âÂ
âYouâve been zoning out since we walked in. You sure youâre okay?â Greer asked concernedly as Kate nodded.Â
âYeah, totally. Iâm just a little tired from all the projects in this semester.â Well, that wasnât much of a lie. But hey, it worked for now when Greer and Franny sent her a look of understanding before heading towards the doorway, with their recently purchased books in hand.
Before following her friends, Kate turned her head towards the door to the storeroom, hoping to catch a last glance of you, even if it were only for a brief moment.
But, alas, you werenât there anymore and Kate was unsure if sheâd ever see your face again, let alone your smile. Stepping out of the bookstore, the shop bell once again chimed in sync with the doorâs opening. This time, it marked the beginning of Kateâs admiration for the nameless girl.Â
Her bookstore girl.
âYour problem is branding.â She turned to look at Clint as they walked along a street. It probably wasnât wise for her to engage in this conversation with him right now, but eh, sheâd take her chances.Â
âNo, my problem is you,â he countered casually, unaware that Kateâs footsteps had come to a halt.
âAnd this ninja suit, and the people trying to kill you because of this ninja suit.â
There you were with your back facing the display glass, dressed in the same brown apron as the first time she met you, with your sleeves just slightly rolled up. Rather than issuing receipts, you were shelving books and papers onto the top shelf on tiptoes, oblivious of her presence through the pane of glass.
When you reached for another copy on the trolley, Kate realized sheâd approached the bookstore unconsciously, almost as if sheâd been lurking on the doorstep, contemplating if she should step inside.Â
â-so I can go home to my family,â Clint said, voice lacing with a hint of irritation as his head turned to the missing presence beside him.Â
âKate, Kate??? Ugh, teenagers...â
âClint. Clint. Clint.â
Shit.Â
Hoping to catch his attention, she moved closer and shook her hand, scribbling âlittle boyâ on a piece of notepaper before holding it up for him to see.Â
âNathaniel? Nathaniel, what are you- what are you doinâ buddy? Is everything okay? Whereâs mama?â As his forehead creased into a frown, he eyed Kateâs direction when his son replied to his questions. Listening intently to his response, Kate jotted down his words forthwith while Clint bought himself some time by fibbing about the âapparentâ delay in the callâs connection.
âEveryone asleep. Heâs bored.â
âAh, youâre-uh-youâre-uh bored. Youâre the early bird. Hey bud, I miss you,â he chuckled, and the little boy laughed in unison as another voice rang out from the distance. Transcribing the situation hurriedly, she heeded a distinctly contrasting voice, a rather feminine and mature one.Â
âMature girlâs voice. Dad. Asking if uâre okâ
âOh, sweetheart, Iâm doinâ great. Why are you up so early?â
Weird. Something was soothing about the tone of the womanâs voice. Something familiar Kate couldnât lay a finger on, but she was certain sheâd heard it somewhere before as each syllable slipped off the womanâs tongue in a smooth and rhythmic fashion. And it almost rendered her forgetting to scribble on the notes until Clintâs voice broke through her thought.
âExcited = couldnât sleep. Home tonight for movies?â
âUh, yeah. Tonightâs movie marathon night, thatâs right. Um... I really wish I could be there with you, sweetheart. But you already know how much Iâd love that, donât you?â
He glanced at Kate as she nodded.
âLook, I promise Iâll be back for our ugly Christmas sweater party. You ready for that, y/n?â
And when her voice came through the receiver once more, Kate couldnât help but ponder the name of this woman. She mustâve known her from somewhere. So who exactly were you, y/n?
The next time Kate found herself staring at the welcome mat outside of the bookstore had been after her encounter with the Black Widow assassin. Her mind was in a haze and with Clint, the very person she looked up to, pushing her away? She needed a change of pace from the immense pressure and worry surrounding her, almost suffocating her.
Then she remembered you, the mysterious bookstore girl who seemed so out of reach whenever your gazes locked, who made her heart race with your mere presence alone. Kate still couldnât fathom why she was so drawn to you, a stranger in the first place. Hell, you probably wouldnât remember her, anyway. And yet here she was, contemplating whether she should enter the store, hand hovering over the doorknob.
This was ridiculous. She was ridiculous. What was she doing, wasting time loitering outside the bookstore like some kind of creepshow? With a heavy sigh, Kate finally twisted the doorknob and stepped inside, her anticipation slowly ebbing into disappointment when your voice didnât greet her nor was your presence behind the check-out counter.
She took her time exploring through the aisle, hoping to catch a glimpse of you, but to no avail. By now, she shouldâve already left. There was nothing left for her to see here. It was only when sheâd passed by the registers did she notice you, standing across the back of the room with your back against a wall, a large book held open before you.
Then you glanced up, meeting her eyes briefly as Kate froze. A smile gracing your face when you gestured a hand to beckon her over.
âHi.â
Your voice...
âHi.â Kate sent you a little wave of her hand as she approached you. An awkward sensation supplanted the bookstoreâs once welcoming atmosphere when both were uncertain of what to say. There was another brief moment when your gazes locked, only breaking eye contact as the pages of your book flipped from the wind overhead before you closed the covers.
âYouâre the girl from a week ago, right? The one who came with her friends?â Kate couldâve sworn your voice matched with Clintâs daughter perfectly, as if they were two halves of a whole. But that was impossible, right? Or maybe she was reading too much into this. It could be a coincidence, thatâs all.
âYea-yeah. Iâm Kate. Kate Bishop, that is.â
She took heed of your outfit. You werenât wearing the usual work clothes and certainly not the brown apron. Instead, you were attired in comfortable garments that seemed to suit you perfectly, and the sight alone made Kateâs smile harder to suppress as her fingers ghosted awkwardly by the pockets of her jeans.
âYou know, itâs not polite to stare,â you teased, raising a brow when Kate averted her attention onto the surrounding walls, scratching the scruff of her neck.
âSorry,â she tittered before clearing her throat.
âWell, I didnât say you should stop.â
âI-I um...â Kate felt the rush of heat creeping upon her skin. In no way had she pictured you being quite this forward, especially when you barely knew each other.
âI was wondering if you had any book recommendations...â She glanced back at you.
âFor me?â It was almost as if sheâd whispered the last part to herself in disbelief, eliciting a chuckle from your lips as a smile plastered on her face.
âI mean sure. What genres do you normally read?â
Oh shit, uh...
âAny, anything really.â
âYou donât read much, do you?â
âBusted,â Kate sighed, raising her hands mid-air, and you gave her a lopsided grin.
âI figured. Then letâs see... how about some poetry? They evoke awareness and can really pack a punch.â Crossing her arms, her eyes darted to the ground momentarily before lifting to meet your gaze.
âEver heard of Emily Dickinson? Sheâs one of my favourite poets out there, bold, ingenious, you name it...â you trailed off, a smug smile evidently curving on your lips.
âBut you arenât really here for my recommendations, are you?â Kate blinked, clearly taken aback for a second as she stared at you, unsure of how to respond.
âHow did you-â she stammered.
âI picked up a few tricks from my aunt,â you shrugged, smiling mischievously as you pushed yourself off the wall, listening to Kateâs singular âohâ.
âUm... is it a bad moment to ask for a âcoffee sometimeâ... perhaps?â she squeaked on the last bit, scrunching up her face but nearly jumping at your abrupt laugh. Evoking a harsh hush from nearby customers in the bookstore.
âSorry.â Amused, you wiped a fake tear.
âYouâre a weird girl, Kate Bishop,â you said, slowly making your way to the check-out counter before halting at the last aisle beside the registers. You turned in her direction, offering a soft smile.
âAnd I might just take you up on your offer.â















