♡ Warnings: fluff, Bob is nervous, Bob is infatuated with the reader.
♡ Pairing: Robert "Bob" Reynolds x librarian (assistant)!fem!reader
♡ Summary: When Yelena convinces Bob to get out of the new Avengers tower, she takes him to a public library...
♡ words: 2064
♡ A/N: bear with me, ive never written a fic for Marvel let alone Bob Reynolds. Anyway, let me know if you want a part 2
Yelena's groan echoes through the Thunderbolt's tower around mid-afternoon, and when she finally walks over to where Bob peacefully resides in the armchair he’s grown accustomed to over the past few days, she taps his shoulder impatiently. A glare that only she can possess is met with soft blue eyes, full of concern and confusion.
“Bob…” Yelena’s tone hints at disappointment as she lowers her gaze to look down upon him; his face fills with guilt (not that there is anything to be guilty of), and he immediately tugs on the sleeves of his blue sweater. “You’ve been stuck in that stupid chair for so long; it's time you got out.” The chair in question sits at the far end of the watchtower's common room, overlooking the New York skyline, and has recently become Bob's safe space after the events of the void.
Her voice is persistent and leaves no room for negotiation, so Bob slowly nods his head in understanding and places his book down on the side table. His hand nervously scratches the back of his neck as he looks up at Yelena with scrunched eyebrows. "I know, I just don't know if I'm…ready?" As he says it, Yelena can practically feel the anxiety produced by Bob, and she drops the stern glare for a more neutral face.
"We'll take it one step at a time, but I need you to get out of the tower; maybe see some other people," she says with a shrug. "Just do something other than sit in that chair."
And that's exactly how Bob ended up in front of the local library with Yelena at his side, the wind doing nothing to soothe his nerves as he unconsciously tugged on the sleeves of his sweater. His voice is scratchy as he speaks, "Are you sure about this? I mean, maybe we can do this another day—" An impatient Yelena drags him inside before he can finish his sentence.
The air inside the library is warm, with the soft ambient lights overhead creating a comfortable space; it's as if they're transported into an entirely different world from the depressing overcast that threatens to surround New York. The air inside is heavy with the smell of old paper and coffee, and the soft rug beneath their feet feels like walking on clouds. Yelena can feel Bob's entire body relax, and gives herself a soft smile. "So... what do you think?" she says, smirking as she looks at Bob, but his eyes seem to be fixated on something in front of him. Yelena follows Bob's line of sight, and her eyes land on a girl quietly shelving books and pushing a cart around.
Yelena bumps Bob's shoulder, and he whips his head to look down at her, snapping out of his trance-like state. Yelena can practically see the slight twinkle in his eyes, and she gives a knowing smile. "Find something nice?" Bob can practically feel his entire face heating up as Yelena teases him. "Come on, let's take a look around the book place, maybe we can find you something to enjoy." She shrugs and pushes him towards one of the shelves.
Bob could barely focus on finding a book when his eyes just landed on the one person in this world that demanded a spotlight to be put upon them, the kind of person that can light up a room just by stepping inside it, and the one person that's able to drown out all the noise that continuously clouds his mind. His footsteps are unconscious, and his mind replays the image of the girl, standing there trying to find the correct place to slide the unstacked book into, and he cannot believe she’s real.
His hip suddenly slams into a strange metal object, and he's brought back down to reality, only this time, the girl of his daydreams stands in front of him, her face concerned as she speaks. He’s barely listening to what she's saying; it's as if she interrupts all of his senses, and all he can do is stand there and look at her, at you…
“Um… are you ok?” you ask, a hint of uncertainty creeping into your voice. You've asked the man in front of you a couple of times if he's ok. He took a bit of a bump to your book cart, but he keeps staring at you. He seems to have heard you after the third time, and a nervous blush settles over his soft features. His gaze, equally as anxious, flickers rapidly around the room, trying desperately to look anywhere but in your direction, as he lets out a laugh. “Yeah, I'm fine, I'm…fine,” Bob can’t help but stutter as his eyes meet yours. His hand rubs the back of his neck as he awkwardly steps aside to let the cart of books pass. His eyes drop to the floor, but after a beat, he risks sneaking a glance. However, you already seem to be looking at him, your head tilted slightly in a way that makes his heart beat faster and his brain short-circuit.
“Um, ok… well I'm just gonna take these back to the counter then,” you move the cart around him and head back to the front desk, settling down on the plush chair behind the counter. You find it kind of cute the way his shaggy brown hair falls over his eyes when he looks at you, the way his soft facial features are often coated in a nervous blush, and the way he continuously tugs on the sleeves of his navy sweater —a way to occupy his mind and hands alike. The few books left in your cart are to be left for inventory checking, and as you pick up the first book, a low, tense exchange a few paces in front of you disrupts your thoughts. Through the large vase of flowers, you inspect the low rumble of an argument arising and look through the petals of your large lily bouquet to discreetly eavesdrop.
It's a quiet Thursday evening, the sunset is slow in its descent as it pours through the large paneled windows, so it's unusual to hear a scuffle happening, especially in a library. You lift your head to see the awkward man who had bumped into your cart in deep conversation with a short blonde woman. They seem to be having an altercation, with the blonde woman carrying the argument across the room. “- just go up to her … I can't… moping around the whole time,” the bits that you do hear from the woman drift through the room in a tone mixed with frustration and impatience.
You focus your attention on the books in front of you, choosing not to meddle in conversations that are not of your concern and to finish the little work you've left for this afternoon. You're deep into scanning the last bunch of books around you when a looming presence invades the space in front of the counter. You look up to see the shaggy brown-haired man standing in front of you, cheeks a color of crimson that reaches his ears in a light pink. His stance is timid as he looks anywhere but your eyes; you try to give the most reassuring smile you can manage, hoping to comfort him.
“Hi, what can I do for you today?” His eyes finally meet yours. They're a gorgeous color of blue – a hue so deep it could be mistaken for black – but you notice how they imitate the sky’s color before midnight, often faintly lit by surrounding stars, just like the slight twinkle in his eyes. His eyes dart toward the floor, and a beat of uncomfortable silence settles between the two of you before you suddenly speak up. “Will you be returning or taking books out today?” Your patient voice draws his eyes to meet yours. “I... I actually need help finding a book,” there's a slight crack in his voice as if he hasn't spoken in years, and you notice how he tugs on the sleeves of his sweater. “Oh sure, what are you looking for?” You stand up from your chair, but his height almost makes you stumble back into it. You’d forgotten how tall he was from your previous encounter, but you give a smile as you lead him toward the adult fiction section. You immediately knew where the book was as he said it. The remaining copy of “The Stranger” finds a place in Bob's hands, given to him with a kind grin.
“Anything else you’re looking for?” your voice rings in his ears, seemingly stopping his brain, and the only maneuver he can manage is a shake of his head that serves as a reply. You stare at him for a second, and when you realize he won't say anything more, you move back towards the front desk. He follows after you like a lost puppy, only a few paces behind. You open the little door behind the counter, and he diligently waits behind it. He opens his mouth to say something when a flash of beach blonde hair passes by the counter and stands beside the man. For a moment, the three of you stare at each other when suddenly the woman's loud voice cuts the tension as she asks the man (seemingly called Bob) if he has found what he was looking for. The woman casts a glance towards you when she says this, and Bob tries his best not to look at you at that moment.
He quietly places the book on the counter and gives a nod to the woman beside him. The soft noise that emanates from the scanner rings in the tension-filled air as you 3 continue to look at each other. “Is that all?” The mandatory question hangs in the air with no answer to accompany it. You look at Bob, expecting a reply, but instead, you're met with silence. After a beat, you nod your head awkwardly and scan the barcode at the back of the book. The blonde woman shoves her elbow into Bob’s side, and a groan escapes him before he answers your question. “Y-yes, i mean no…”
You stop what you're doing and look up at him, his eyes finally meeting yours. You tilt your head slightly, awaiting his request. His eyes dart around the quaint quarter the three of you are situated in, seemingly looking for something. His eyes land on the vase that sits on the counter, and he points to it sheepishly. “You're lilies…they're beautiful” you blink at him, confused by the unprovoked compliment of your lilies, and when he sees your bemused facial expression he quickly adds, “So are you – I didn't mean to imply that you're not; I mean, you're even more beautiful than they are. Much more, I mean the lilies barely even- .” his face has gone bright red by the time the blonde woman has interrupted the consistent ramblings of Bob by taking the bag and dragging him away, screaming a thank you once she’s a few paces away from the counter.
The afternoon glow shines, creating a spotlight on Bob’s ruby face, and he can barely hide the shame and embarrassment that comes when Yelena starts berating him. “I set you up for the perfect opportunity to learn her name!” she starts to pace back and front along the entrance of the library. Bob can't help but hang his head in shame and shake his head. “I know, but was it really… that bad?” “Oh, Bob, it was horrible, I mean, I could not stand to listen to your pathetic ramblings for another second.” Her hand runs through her hair as she stops, she looks at him with a face that implies deep concentration, and slightly shakes her head. “We can fix this,” she points a finger between the two of them, “we can figure out a way to get you to converse with her without any… problems.”
Bob’s face scrunches up in concern, “Are you sure, I mean I practically bombed the first and only interaction I've had with her, and I wouldn’t want to see me again either. Maybe it's better if we just stay home, I could do the dishes tonight…”
“No, Bob, shut up, don't think like that. We can do this – you can do this… you've just got to try again tomorrow. And think I've got just the right way to do it…”
Since I simply can’t get into working on the novel I’ve been writing (nearly 10 years and counting) and the comic I was working on with a friend has...well let’s just say that’s not going to come to fruition any time soon. I decided that I was going to do a comic of my own since I was still on the kick of comics, multi-worlds, and Greco-Roman themes. Well, the challenge is that the main character is locked in a room for the first week in the story which the two people who have bought her (she’s a slave) are off doing important things. While the rest of it is basically everyone traveling for three weeks with a couple of conflicts thrown in. Also flashbacks. Because I said so.
Like with everything I get ideas for, I know exactly what I want to happen in the beginning and the ending, even a few parts in the middle. It’s the rest of it that I’m iffy on. So I counted up the days and realized my in-story time is about 28 days. Since I hate doing time skips and trying to get a story through long periods of inactivity I decided that for my script’s draft (only the draft) I’m going to write out what happens on each of the 28 days and then cut out all the bits that aren’t helping while fleshing out the parts I like. My goal is that each week I have at least one day written out.
Am I going to hate this plan in about 4 days? Yes.
Am I going to want to cheat and skip days? More than likely.
Is it going to be worth it in the end? I dearly hope so.
