#bob x reader

"Did you wanna watch the next episode of Bridgerton tonight?" Bob asks when you settle next to him on the couch with a bowl of popcorn. His legs are propped up on the ottoman, one hand resting on the back of the couch while the other holds up the remote to the TV.

"Sure!" He presses the show and places the remote on the couch before reaching for some popcorn. You left off on episode three when Daphne turns to Simon for help with a royal suitor.

You reach the scene where they're at the ice cream shop and Daphne lustfully gazes at Simon licking the spoon. "I want ice cream now," you groan.

"I bought a pint of vanilla earlier." Bob tells you and you gasp.

"You're a lifesaver!" You reach over his lap to grab the remote, ignoring the way he stiffens beneath you when your ass comes into his view. After pausing the show, you quickly kiss his cheek before excitedly going to the kitchen to fill a bowl of ice cream.

Bob awkwardly clears his throat and shifts in his spot, doing his best to not blush right here on the couch from the last 15 seconds. You return to the couch humming a happy tune with your bowl of sweet ice cream, oblivious to the decorative pillows now settled on his lap. 

"I don't care if vanilla is basic, this hits the spot!" You say with a mouthful.

Bob smiles in amusement and presses play, but his focus lies elsewhere. He can't help but glance over at you every time you subconsciously hum in satisfaction when you bring the spoon to your mouth. It almost sounds like a moan. If he were to close his eyes, he could almost picture you making those same sounds when he goes down on you. 

Your eyes lock with his and he quickly looks back to the screen. "Oh sorry did you want some?" You hold up a spoonful for him and he hesitates before taking it in his mouth, a gesture far too intimate for roommates...or friends.

"Th-thanks" he clears his throat and denies any more that you offer. You set your empty bowl on the coffee table next to you before leaning closer to Bob.

He should be used to this by now, you being touchy. That's just how you are. You feel no particular way about him whatsoever! So why can't he help but feel all tingly inside? And why does he feel blood rushing south when your knee grazes his thigh?

After the episode ends, Bob looks down at you as you yawn with your head resting on his shoulder. "Sleepy?" He asks.

You shrug, "a bit. We can...watch the next episode." Your sentence drags on when another yawn escapes you.

Bob chuckles, "we can continue another time. Go to bed, you've had a long day." He stands from the couch, his absence causing you to fall until your head hits the cushion. Bob chuckles again with a head shake and leans down to grab your arms, pulling you back up.

"Fiiiiiine, if you insist! Just say you don't want to spend time with me!" You sarcastically remark as you walk back to your room.

You hear Bob chuckle behind you before saying "goodnight." After getting ready for bed, sleepiness takes over you quite easily. Just as you're on the brink of being asleep and awake, you hear the faint sound of groaning.

It sounds like it's coming from the walls. Too tired to think clearly, you figure it must be your imagination before letting yourself succumb to sleep.

"You're so beautiful. You feel so fucking good baby" he mutters in your ear as you take every harsh thrust he delivers. "Doing so good for me."

"Bob- please!" You desperately whine. You're not even sure what you're begging for. All you know is that you need more!

"I can feel you getting close, you're clenching me so tight. You're gonna make me cum!" He groans right in your ear, his hips frantically getting messier. "Let go for me. I got you." You're right there. Right–

Your eyes blink open in a panic, your dream still clearly replaying in your head. It felt so real. Too real. You could still feel his touch lingering on your skin. And his groans, it's like you've heard them before.

But that's impossible!

You hear the sound of shuffling across the hall and footsteps descending downstairs. You debated whether you should wait for him to go back to his room before eating, but your growling stomach thinks otherwise.

You'll just have to go downstairs and face him, and act like you didn't just have a sex dream about your roommate.

You find him standing at the sink in the kitchen with his back turned to you and your breath catches in your throat. Has his back muscles always been that prominent through his t-shirts? You see them work against the fabric with every movement of his arms as he washes last night's dishes that both of you were too lazy to do.

His head peaks over his shoulder and he smiles. "Good morning! Just thought I'd do the dishes before cooking."

"I can do the cooking." You insist, already opening the fridge to pull out the eggs.

"Are you sure?" He asks as he dries his hands. You nod, but he's insistent on helping, which does not help your confusing feelings towards him whatsoever.

During breakfast, you both decide that today will be a chore day. And now that you're about an hour in, you're starting to regret it. You couldn't stop the tingly feeling in your stomach when you heard those grunts leave him as he reached into the washer to toss your clothes into the dryer, not to mention the amazing view of his ass.

Or the way his shirt would ride up to reveal his abs when he'd place the clean dishes back into the top cabinets. And the worst of them all was your view of him mowing the grass of your front lawn through the window as you dusted off furniture. The way sweat glistened on his skin, the veins popping out of his forearms, his biceps flexing with every push.

You were a goner.

While you're sitting on the couch, already showered and in your pj's with a fun movie on, Bob walks in. He's wearing an old trucker shirt and his hair is damp from his shower. "I'm gonna make some tea. Do you want some?" He says as he passes you to go to the kitchen.

"Sure." You call out, refusing to look at him knowing you'd pounced on him right there if you did. It's unfair how romantic he looks with wet hair. You hear the kettle brewing and spoons clinking against cups behind you, trying not to think of how domestic he looks no doubt. 

"Here you go." He rounds the couch, holding two mugs in his hands and gives you yours. "Careful it's hot." The tea's not the only thing that is.

He carefully sits down next to you, running his fingers through his fluffy damp hair. God do you wish you could replace his fingers with yours. You snap back to your senses to focus on stirring your tea.

You take a few sips before placing it on a coaster on the coffee table. You glance over at him to see him take the spoon out of the cup, tapping it on the rim of the mug a few times, before putting it in his mouth.

Your eyes narrow in close at the way he sucks it, making sure to get every bit of sweet honey off of it. You don't doubt that if you kissed him, his lips would taste just like that sweet goodness. Your breath hitches when you see his tongue poke out just a tiny bit before retreating.

You feel like Daphne Bridgerton getting turned on by Simon eating the ice cream. You thought that scene was silly until this very moment. You get it now. But this is much much worse. 

Daphne didn't live with Simon. She didn't have to sleep just down the hall from him while she thought about him. She didn't have to walk on egg shells in her own home in fear of crossing the line with her roommate. 

The movie you had on is long forgotten, all you can focus on is Bob Reynolds.

Bob glances over at you with a frozen look, "you okay?" Your gaze snaps back up to meet his like a deer caught in headlights.

"Y-yeah! I'm fine!" You lie, turning your eyes back to the screen, attention still on the man next to you though as you shift a little further from him.

He sets the spoon on a napkin he brought and places his mug next to it on his own designated coffee table. "Are you sure? You've been acting..." he pauses as he searches for the right word to use. "Strange today. Distant. Like something's been on your mind. Is something wrong?" So many things.

Your breath hitches when he scoots closer to place a concerned hand on your bare thigh, tensing beneath his warm palm. You quickly jolt away from his touch to move further to the other side of the couch.

A look of confusion washes over his face at your retreating form. The gears start turning in his head until it finally clicks. The staring, the weird breathing patterns, your nervous jitters, the constant space you're putting between the two of you. And as if someone had flipped a switch, his demeanor completely changes.

His eyes darken as he moves even closer, like a predator teasing its prey before pouncing. Your heart pounds in your chest when you realize you've reached the end of the couch once you bump the arm of it.

"You like me don't you?" His voice deepens, it's raspy and tempting. It's seductive. "I've seen the way you've been eyeing me all day."

Fuck, he's caught you.

"I didn't want to make any assumptions but the way you're acting right now confirmed them. Your eyes have been drinking me in, but you're still thirsty. And only one thing can quench it." He leans in so that his lips hover over yours. "I can help with that."

You have no idea who this side of Bob is. This version of him seems darker, a little scary but oh so tempting. His eyes take you in. They travel down from your face to your body beneath him before trailing back up. He's starving but he's willing to wait for your answer.

It never leaves your mouth. Instead, you close the gap until there's no space left between the two of you. A familiar sounding groan leaves his throat when his lips meet yours.

He leans forward until your back is to the cushions and his body settles on top of yours. You run your hands up his neck until they tangle into his hair. Another groan leaves him when you tug and you can't help but wonder where you've heard it from.

Your mind ponders on it as his mouth trails down to assault your neck. Where could you have heard those sounds?

"What are you thinking about?"

You're snapped back to reality, "what?"

"Your mind is somewhere else. What's stopping you from being in this moment with me?" He pulls away with a concerned look in his eyes, his lips in a downturned frown.

"Sorry it's just...your groans sound oddly familiar. I don't know."

His shoulders relax and he lets out a hum as he starts kissing your neck again. "You must've heard me last night then."

With wide eyes, you place your hands on his shoulders to push him back. "Wait what??”

"I'm sorry I couldn't help it! You were getting me all worked up and I thought you were asleep."

"So I wasn't dreaming that part then." You say mostly to yourself.

"'That part?' So you were dreaming about me?"

You avert your eyes in embarrassment but he places a hooked finger under your chin to make you look at him again. "Don't worry, I dream about you too." He places a chaste kiss on your bruised lips.

"You do?" He nods before kissing you again.

"Let me show you what I was picturing last night, everything I was thinking of doing to you. Then you can tell me what we did in your dream. Maybe we can recreate it. What do you say?"

"Yes."

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

With a groan, you rolled over, burying your face into a pillow in embarrassment. Just as you began closing your eyes, you caught a name- your name.

"I wish they were with me now." Bob's thoughts entered your own. Even from here, you could get a hazy picture through his own eyes as he tugged a pillow to his chest. "If they were, I would do this..."

Oh no. No. No. No. Was this about to get weird? Sure, Bob could be a bit awkward at times, but you never suspected him of being some perv.

Instead, fear gripped you, followed by a sense of peace flooding every inch of your body as he hugged the pillow pretending it was you. For a moment, the connection was so strong you felt as if his arms ghosted around you, pulling you in gently. The sensation was odd, nearly making your breath go away.

Images filled your mind like a glitching movie from his imagination. Nothing weird at all, actually. Images of Bob gently pushing your hair back while you smiled in your sleep. The two of you curled up, watching a movie together in the Tower as you munched on snacks. Taking walks in the snow and laughing. Protecting him from Val, or anyone else who tied to hurt him.

An image of you holding him, as if you would never let go.

Wow, this was just sad. It's heartbreaking to see what Bob thought about- all he wanted was to be accepted.

Was Bob so terrified at night that he was pretending a pillow was a person? Besides, why would he imagine you rather than Yelena? Even if they weren't together like that, they seemed to share some sort of unspoken understanding of one another. The two of you were just teammates who got along well, right?

"You know, I've been meaning to tell you something," he whispered to nobody, almost as if he had practiced this several times. "And it's okay if you don't feel the same, but I r-really want to spend more time with you because I like you..."

His fingers curled around the pillow's fabric gently, caressing the silk almost reverently. Suddenly, he pulled it closer, clinging to the pillow desperately, as if it were a lifeline. Short, rapid breaths escaped him before they finally lulled, his heartbeat slowing down to a calm.

For a moment, your heart nearly stopped in your chest. It took everything in you not to leap out of bed right now, rush to his room in your PJs, and tell him you felt the same. To tell him you would protect him from the nightmares, from the memories that haunted him, and the other person who followed him like a shadow. Honestly, you assumed he would never like you back. The two of you were so different, and he was recovering from so much; it didn't seem like the right time.

"That would never work," he muttered to himself. "She's so amazing...and terrifying. Honestly, I don't think she likes anyone, so why would she like someone like me?" Rolling over, he buried his face in the pillow, mumbling, "She probably likes Bucky instead."

Bucky? No way! He was more like an older brother to you than anything.

"I'm not enough," he thought to himself, "I'll never be enough for her."

Enough! You couldn't take this anymore. Tossing your blanket aside, you marched out of your quarters and down the hall towards his. Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door.

"Bob? Are you okay? I was up getting something to eat and heard noises," you asked, forcing a casual tone.

"Uhh...I'm fine!" he called out with a hint of embarrassment. There was a shuffle, then he cracked the door open. Sad, brown eyes stared out from the dark, shining with a mix of fear and almost hope. "See? I'm okay," he said awkwardly, giving a crooked smile. "Are you?"

"Bob, if you ever need help or anything," you began, unsure where to go with this. Words weren't exactly your skillset. Not in the way using a blade was. Why was this so much easier in the books you read? "Look, I get it...how the past sticks around. The nightmares."

Bob's eyes widened with understanding, staring a moment quietly. "It never seems to leave, does it?" he said, glancing away and scratching the back of his neck. "Follows you around."

"I can help, if you wanted."

"No, no...I'm fine," Bob began. "Uh, goodnight." Before he could shut the door, you pushed your foot in the crack, stopping it.

"Did you need something?" he asked.

No use beating around the bush. "Do you want me to stay with you tonight?" Bob nodded shyly, letting you step inside.

Tossing the pillow aside, you asked, "Do you want the left or right side of the bed?"

Thanks for reading! Requests always open! Tag list open!

Bob does not react, but when you lower yourself on the floor across from him, he also doesn't stop you.

'What's your name?' you ask.

He blinks at you owlishly and doesn't respond for some time. Then softly: 'I don't know.'

You swallow thickly. 'Well, I can tell you my name, if you want.'

His eyes focus on your face as he nods slowly. You tell him, and with a heavy heart realize that there is no recognition on his face.

'What are you doing here?' You hope you're not pushing him too far with these questions, but it's the only thing you can think of to do. If the Void is taking his memories, you need to alert the team, but you also don't want to leave him alone. 

'I don't know, actually.'

'Do you know where you are?'

'I ... I think this is the Avengers Tower.'

You smile at that. 'That's true. Do you know how you got here?'

'I - I was with the girl. She had blond hair and like ... she was Russian?' His voice wobbles.

'That's Yelena. Do you remember anyone else?'

'There was another Russian. And a blond man who was mean - but also really sad.' You suppress a snort at his descriptions. 

'That would be Alexei and John.'

'I think there were more people but I don't remember.' His forehead creases, eyebrows drawn together as his lips settle into a tight line.

'That's okay,' you tell him, tempted to reach out and take his hand. 'Do you want to talk to Yelena?'

Bob shrugs, and then nods once. 

'Come on, then,' you say as you get up and stretch. 'I think she is training.'

He gets up as well and trails awkwardly behind you, fiddling with his sleeves and scratching his arm. 

You were right, and find Yelena as well as Ava in the training facilities. You enter with Bob, and ask him to wait while you talk to the women.

'Guys, we have a problem,' you announce in a hushed voice.

'When do we not?' Ava deadpans. 

'This is serious,' you sigh, 'I think the Void has taken over again.'

'Bob seems fine to me,' Yelena argues, after a quick glance in his direction.

'Yeah, well, he doesn't know that he's called Bob. The only person out of the team he remembers is you, and even that was fuzzy to him.'

'You are saying he lost his memory?' Yelena asked with a scowl on her face. 

You nod. 'He knows where he is, and he knows he came here with you. He also vaguely remembered Alexei and John, but the rest is... puff.' You make a gesture that vageuly resembles a confetti bomb. 

'Okay. I will take over,' Yelena says determined and saunters off into the direction where Bob is still standing motionless. You stare after her and see her grab Bob's arm softly. 

'How are you doing with that situation?' Ava pulls you back to reality.

'Me? I don't know.' Your heart stutters a little at thinking about it. 'I guess I should be relieved that the past few weeks didn't have anything to do with me, right?' You turn towards Ava and away from Bob. 

'I gather you don't,' she observes.

'I don't,' you confirm, 'I feel like shit still. Losing his memories must be horrible,' you mumble, thoughts trailing off again. 

'Hey,' Ava put a hand on you shoulder, 'we'll figure it out. Don't worry. After all, we are the Thunderbolts.' Her fake cheering at the team name makes you snort. You wipe your nose, and pull your sleeves over your hands. 

'Thanks, Ava.'

'No worries. Does the rest of the team know?'

'Not yet,' you reply, 'I thought it was easier to go to Yelena first.'

Ava nods. 'You should tell the rest, though. This is something we need to solve together.''

You hum. 'Yeah, I'll go tell them.' 

* * * 

'I just think a group hug won't do this time around,' John sighs.

After you had updated everyone, Yelena had called in an emergency team meeting. Now it was almost midnight, and everyone was tired but none the wiser as to what to do with Bob. 

'At this rate, I'm not even opposed to trying,' Bucky groans. Across from you Ava is blowing bubble gum, while Yelena rubs her temples.

'What if we just ... tell Valentina?' you suggest.

'Nooo,' the entire table groans.

'Sorry,' you mumble. 'Just trying to find a solution.'

'What if we just show him footage from the past months he's been with us? Try to force his memory back,' John suggests.

'And have him go into a shock? What if the Void completely takes over?' Ava argues.

You let your forehead fall onto the table with a loud breath. 'This is useless,' you mumble. 

For a moment everyone is quiet. 

'Okay,' Yelena clears her voice and straightens up, 'what if we treat him like we would treat someone with dementia or Alzheimer's or something. Or amnesia, I don't care. We try not to overstimulate him, we try to gently bring his memories back to live, and if he remembers something we just, you know, try to work with that.'

'So you're suggesting we don't do anything?' you deadpan.

Yelena rolls her eyes. 'Did you not listen to anything I just said?'

'No, no, I did,' you say, 'it just doesn't sound like a plan, is all.'

Yelena squints her eyes at you, but Bucky gets up to interrupt. 'Alright, fighting does not help anyone. We'll treat Bob like a memory loss patient, until we can come up with something better. I want everyone to keep an eye on him, and to share anything out of place with the whole team. Is that understood?' He shoots a pointed look at you and Yelena.

'Understood,' you mumble.

'Loud and clear,' Yelena sighs.

With that the meeting fades out, everyone shuffling out of the meeting room and towards their bedrooms. 

Yelena and your room are on the same floor, and so you walk together in silence. When she turns to her room, you turn around and say: 'I didn't mean to snap earlier.'

She sighs and turns to you. 'I did not mean to be insensitive. But I really think this is the best approach.'

'I know,' you mumble, eyebrows drawn together. 

'Get some sleep. Everything will be fine,' Yelena says uncharacteristically softly. 

* * *

Everything was not fine. Bob's memory didn't come back and he did not remember anything between the New York incident and now.  He barely talked, least of all to you, and you felt as though every time you entered a room he would leave immediately.

To say you were desperate would have been an understatement. You noticed yourself pull back from Bob, but also from the rest of the team, spending more time in your room or outside of the tower. 

You knew pulling back would not solve anything, but in the end you couldn't help it. 

When Bob walks into the kitchen while you are searching for a snack one day, you instinctively try to make yourself smaller.

He doesn't say anything, but still you are painfully aware of his presence behind you. When you finally found the snack you were searching for, you turn around to see Bob reading Frankenstein. 

You reread the book recently and accidentally left it in the lounge are. The next day you could not find it. You had given up searching for it. Seeing it now in his hands, you stand frozen. He is already halfway through the book, for sure somewhere in the Creatures account of the story. 

You can't help but blurt out: 'You know, there's a great Netflix adaption that came out recently.'

Bob looks up slowly from the page, directly into your eyes. Your breath stutters and heat creeps up your neck and cheeks. 'Sorry,' you mumble, stomach clenching again. 

'Is it just as sad as the book?' he asks. 

Perplexed you look up. You didn't expect Bob to be interested. 

'I think the story is sad by nature. The movie has some different plot lines, but yeah, it's still quite sad.'

'Why do you like it then?'

You chuckle softly. 'How do you know I like it?' you challenge. 

'Because you said so.' Bob turns the book so that you can see the pages he's been reading. They are full of annotations and underlined quotes. 'That's your handwriting,' he adds.

You are not sure how he would come to that conclusion, but you won't question him. You're way to glad he's speaking to you again. 

'I think I like it because... because it portrays the human nature so accurately. And it humanizes the creature. To be honest, the movie is even better at that I think. You get a real sense of the injustice done to him.'

He hums in acknowledgement. 'You read a lot.' It wasn't a question really. 

'Yeah,' you smile, 'who told you?'

His brows furrow in concentration. 'No one,' he mumbles. 'I just know, I think.'

You swear you see his eyes flicker and his usual blue color shine through for a second, before his irises go back to the bluish-black hue. Your heart drops at the change.

'Yelena said we used to read together.'

You nod shortly. 'We did. A lot actually.'

'I'm sorry I don't remember you,' he says sheepishly. 

You press your lips together. 'That's okay. It's not your fault, really.'

'Can I borrow this?' he asks, holding up the book.

You swallow, unable to look him in the eyes. Your mind replays the memories of a similar conversation, which now seemed ages ago. The irony of him asking you is totally lost on Bob, yet ever more painful to you.

'Sure. Just - don't eartag, please.' 

'Wouldn't dream of it,' he replies with his crooked smile. You don't quite manage to return the smile.

* * *

In the days and weeks after that you try to leave out more books, curious if Bob would be interested in any of them. In some books you check the annotations you made, and update a few of them. The books with more sensitive information on you and your friendship with Bob you keep to yourself, mindful of the team agreement to not overstimulate Bob's memories. 

Bob takes some of the books to read, and when he's finished he always returns them to the place he found it. Sometimes he would stick on a note to say thank you, or to comment on the book. Your heart always warmed at that. It was like a piece of the friendship was restored.

Yelena made the most progress with him though. Soon Bob remembered what had happened in New York, and how he came to be friends with Yelena. 

He started remembering John and Ava more, and warmed up to Bucky and Alexei, remembering the very first month in the Avengers Tower. 

Only you were left. Sometimes you felt as though the Void had specifically targeted the memories from the moment you had joined the team.

It made you feel disconnected from Bob, but it also made you doubt your place on the team and your value as an Avenger. 

You barely talked about that part, though Ava figured it out quickly. You were making chocolate chip cookies - Bob's favourites, which you pretended was unimportant- when Ava walked in, sat down and said in a very serious voice: 'Listen. I know you hate talking about it. And I know I'm not very touchy-feely. But I want you to know that we all appreciate you. You're a great addition to the team. And Bob's weird selective memory loss is not reflective of our opinion of you.' 

She seemed out of breath after saying it, while you on the other hand had to hold back tears. 

'Ava-' you started, sniffling a little.

'No, don't,' she said, 'no hugs or thank you's or anything. I hate emotions.' 

You choked out a teary laugh. 'Okay. No thank you then.'

You turned back to the cookie dough, trying to get your emotions back under control. 

'You know what, Ava? For someone who's not touchy-feely, you are the only one who seems to understand how I feel.' you said, your back turned to her, out of fear she might scold you again. 

'I don't understand how you feel,' she says evenly, 'what I do know though, is how it feels to have no one to share your feelings with. And I want you to know that you can always share with me - with us. We might not understand but we will listen.'

You open your mouth to reply, when someone walks into the kitchen, prompting Ava to get up and leave with a quiet 'See you later.'

When you turn, Bob is standing there.

'Oh, hey,' you mumble.

'Hi. What are you making?'

You nod your chin towards the recipe book. 'Chocolate chip cookies.'

Bobs eyes glint childlike. 'I love chocolate chip cookies! Yours are the second best,' he grins.

'Second best?' you shout playfully. 'Bob, that's ... oddly specific,' You turn to face him, eyes squinted slightly. 'I never made cookies for you before.'

Which wasn't true necessarily. You had made the cookies before, just not specifically for him. 

'Well, my Grandma makes the best cookies. I dont think anyone can beat nostalgia. And yours are great. Yelena gave them to me a couple of month ago, because she thought they were too sweet.'

You stare at him dounbfounded. 'I guess I shouldn't be surprised by the fact that Yelena is a good liar. She told me they were delicious.'

Bob chuckles. 'Well, I think they are.'

'Keep the compliments up and I will bake you brownies next week.'

'Well, that was what I was hoping for.'

His hand had shifted higher, his nails softly scratching the inside of his arm. 'I don't remember,' he mumbled, brows still furrowed, his eyes trained on nothing in particular. He seemed far away.

'That's okay. Happens to me all the time, especially when I don't sleep well.'

Bob exhaled softly, and straightened his posture.

'Do you want to get some coffee?' you asked.

'Yeah, that would be good.' 

You walked down the hallway towards the elevators. A comfortable silence wrapped around you and Bob as you made your way towards the kitchen. The closer you got, the more Bob seemed to relax. He dropped his shoulders, his face softened. 

'Oh, I remember,' he let out suddenly. You turned slightly to look at him, as you waited for him to continue.

'I wanted to ask you about that book you were talking about...'

'The Ministry of Time?'

'Yeah, exactly! Could I borrow it? I'm finished with On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous.' he told you.

'Oh I haven't read that one yet, is it good?' you asked as you poured two cups of coffee.

'I liked it a lot. Though there are some heavy subjects that are discussed.' He went on to tell you everything he did and didn't like about the book, while you sat, listening to him comfortably.

The two of you had developed a strong friendship over books, swapping books recommendations frequently, giving each other recommendations and going to book stores together.

Bob felt as though he could be normal around you, as if your friendship grounded him back in reality. It was the same for you; your were more than your powers when you were with Bob, more than just a useful addition to a team. Valentina had included to the New Avengers roughly half a year after the New York incident, and while you were grateful to the team you never felt like you were really part of the group. 

Bob had not talked to you for the first few weeks, until he was practically forced to. He had left a book lying around in the kitchen, which you had picked up and started reading, unaware of who it belonged to. You were engrossed in the story, reading half the book in just a few hours, unaware of what was happening around you, when you suddenly heard someone clear their throat close to you.

You had looked up and found yourself face to face with Bob, who looked utterly uncomfortable and awkward, fidgeting with the sleeves of his sweater.

'Are-are you going to f-finish that?' he had asked, his voice breaking slightly.

'I think I might. It's really good' you had replied, still unaware that it was his.

'Oh.' he paused, though you felt like there was something more he wanted to get off his chest. You had asked him if he was okay, and he had nodded nervously, not meeting your eyes.

'You're not very convincing, you know?' you had said.

'W-well, it's just that I had hoped to finish the book today.'

You were of course mortified, immediately handing over the book and slipping of the chair you had sat on.

'I'm so sorry, i shouldn't have-' 'no,no, keep it as long-' 'I don't know-' The two of you were practically holding a people pleasing competition, before you broke out in laughter at the absurdity of the conversation.

In the end you agreed that he would finish the book first, and then lend it to you.

If you were honest, you were a little worried that he forgot what he had wanted to ask you this morning. When it came to books, Bob was the sharpest. He had once told you that reading helped keep the void in check, especially when the team was on missions. He said he'd get so invested in characters and plot lines, that he didn't have time to think about himself, which prevented self doubt.

Forgetting which book he was going to ask about was uncharacteristic, and you felt your gut turn as if it was anticipating bad news. You tried to assess him, and thought to yourself that he really did look tired. 

You tried to shake the thoughts off and calm yourself down. Everyone sleeps bad every now and then. 

The rest of the day was comparatively peaceful. You and Bob both got lost in your current reads and tried to block out the bickering and shouting of the team as best you could. By evening the incident was basically forgotten.

* * * 

You and Bob were sitting on the roof of the tower, enjoying the first warm day of the season. He was reading Pride and Prejudice (your recommendation) and you finally got started on The House on Mango Street (his recommendation). 

'I like how Esperanza really has a hybrid identity.' you said after having finished a chapter, turning to Bob.

His brows furrowed. 'Who's Esperanza?'

You turned to him incredulous. 'The protagonist of The House on Mango street.'

'oh, i don't know that one. Sounds interetsting though.'

Your stomach turned, you could practically feel the bile coming up. 'Bob? You recommended this book to me.'

His eyebrows were still pulled together, and he seemed to unfocused. He didn't reply for a few seconds, and then: 'I did?'

'You said it was an interesting exploration of mixed cultures and the immigrant experience. Bob, you praised this book to high heaven.' You didn't ask him how he couldn't remember it. It was implied, and you could see his thoughts race in his head.

'I must be really tired,' he muttered. 'Can you tell me more about it? To jug my memory.'

'Of course,' you replied softly, and started summarizing the plot, and repeating the thoughts he had shared about this book.

'She becomes a writer in the end, doesn't she?' Bob asked at some point.

'Yeah, she does. In her own home.' You scrutinize his face. 

'I think I remember now. I don't know why it's so fuzzy.' 

Your lips press tightly together, before you reply: 'It's okay. Sometimes it happens. Maybe you are just stressed.'

He nodded slowly. 'Yeah, maybe.'

You got up. 'I'll get something to drink. Do you want anything?' 

'Yeah, a tea please. I can come with you.'

'No, no,' you waive him off. 'Relax, I'll get it.'

You turn and enter the building. As soon as you are out of Bob's sight you start to jog towards the meeting room, where you expect Bucky to be. You were right and you spot him hunched over what you assumed were mission reports. He looked tired and worn down and a small part of you felt bad for bothering him. Doubt crept up your spine and made your fingers itch, as you wondered if this was the right time to ask for help. You convinced yourself to just move, one feet at the time.

'Hey, Bucky,' you greeted the grumpy man, while opening the door not bothering to knock.

'Hi,' he replied not particularly enthusiastically. 

'I need your help with something.'

He groans tiredly. 'I swear if one of  you idiots broke something again-'

'It's about Bob,' you interrupt him loudly. He looks at you with an exasperate expression. 'It's Bob,' you repeat, calmer this time, swallowing the lump in your throat. 'He - he doesn't remember a book he recommended me.'

Bucky's eyebrows shoot up. 'That's the big emergency? He forgot about a book?'

'Bucky, you don't understand. He adores his books, he loved reading it. He told me he would give this one five stars, which for the record he never does. It's ridiculous really, but he says four stars is for a great book, and only really special books get five stars. But this one he thinks is special. He said he connected with the protagonist on 'a spiritual level'. He recommended it to me two month ago, and now he doesn't remember it. That is not only weird, that is concerning.'

Bucky looks at you bemusedly and unimpressed.

'What?' you snap.

'Nothing,' he chuckles, lifting his hands up in mock defense. 'Just, if you have a crush on him, you should tell him not me.'

Your face grew hot from embarrassment and anger. 'That doesn't have anything to do with what's going on,' you mumbled, while vividly contemplating if you could get away with murdering your team leader. 

Bucky grunted and got up from his seat. 'Look, I get it, we all worry about Bob. I'll talk to Yelena, see what she thinks. But I think it's normal to forget things. Don't read too much into it just because you have feelings for him,' he said earnestly, patting you on the shoulder once.

You slumped a little, feeling like a little child who got too exited and was then scolded by his parents. You made your way toward the kitchen to bring Bob his tea. 

When you walked back out on the roof, Bob was sitting up straight and the book laid forgotten at his side. He stared off into space and you noticed he was scratching his left arm absentmindedly. 

Tension rose in your stomach when you saw him. Bucky had been right of course, you had started to develop feelings for your friend. You had tried to keep it a secret but obviously had been unsuccessful. If even Bucky saw it, the whole team probably knew. And if the whole team knew then Bob probably knew- you suddenly wondered if Bob pitied you, and felt utterly pathetic. 

Your face grew hot, shame climbed up your throat, squeezing past your airway, making you choke on your nothing. You instinctively cleared your throat, and Bob turned around. UNsure just how it was possible, you felt your cheeks grow even hotter.

'Here's your tea,' you croaked, extending the cup towards him like a peace offering of someone trying to please the gods. 

'Are you okay?' Bob asked, taking the cup and carefully blowing on the liquid. The gods were pleased, the subject still in distress.

How more blood rushed to your face was a mystery to you. You felt as though everything you did was somehow wrong and making the situation worse. 'I-I'm actually not feeling great.' you admitted, 'I think I'll lie down.'

You fled the scene, and left Bob standing there utterly in the middle of the roof, limbs dangling aimlessly, the cup directionless in his hand. He had wanted to tell you something but as soon as you had given him the cup of tea, his vision had blurred and shivers had spread across and into his chest.

* * *

The next few days you were absolutely miserable. Moping in your room, barely interacting with the team. It got so bad that Bucky felt the need to apologize for his comments. It was a conversation you hoped you would never have to have again, with awkwardness and stiff words on either side.

You tried to avoid Bob, for fear of embarrassment and because your mind started to convince you that he actually didn't like you, not even in a platonic way. You were sure he was just putting up with you, and that you were becoming annoying.

Bob, on the other hand, was miserable as well. He didn’t understand the change in your demeanor, and couldn’t remember doing anything to hurt your feelings. He was sitting on the couch in the lounge area, open book in his lap, though his gaze drifted and he didn’t take in the words on the page.

John walked in, sweaty and panting from his workout. He dropped his bag and plopped down next to Bob. 

‘Hi, Bobby,’ he said, taking in the state of the man next to him. ‘You alright there?’ Whenever Bob was not doing great, John would get flashback from the vault and the shame rooms.

‘Wha-? Oh, hi Walker.’ 

‘Wanna tell me what’s got you sulking the past few days?’

Bob shrugged. ‘It’s nothing,' he mumbled. 'Can I ask you something?’

John nodded shortly, eyebrow raised in his signature resigned look. 

‘How did things end with Olivia?’

‘What the fuck, man?’ John scowled and Bob reacted immediately. ‘I-i-i’m sorry, I didn’t mean it in an asshole way.’ He gulped thickly. ‘I just- I need to know. I don’t wanna lose her.’

‘Lose her?’ John clearly wasn’t convinced. ‘Who the fuck would you lo- oh.’ 

'Yeah. Oh.' Bob rubbed his face.

John sighed heavily. 'Look, Olivia and me... a lot happened. And a lot of mistakes were made. If you want to boil it down to just one thing... I was selfish. We didn't - I didn't sort my problems out before it was too late already. But I don't think our situation is comparable to yours.'

Bob hummed in acknowledgment. 

'Have you told her you like her?'

'I can't. What if she laughs at me?'

'Yeah, right,' John scoffs, 'cause that is totally something she'd do.'

'I don't know, man. I just really like her and I don't wanna lose her.'

'You know that there is a very simple solution to your problem, right?'

Bob's head whipped up, eyes bright. 'Yeah?'

'Yeah. Talk to her.'

Bob slumped back and stared off again.

'Look,' John admitted, 'I'm not great at the advise part. But I know your a good person and I think she likes you too. But you won't get anywhere if you don't talk to each other. You don't know if she's even quiet because of something you did. It might be unrelated.'

Bob nodded slowly. 'That's solid advice man. When did you get so nice?' he teased.

John let out another groan as he got up from the sofa. 'Yeah, yeah, fuck off. I liked you better when you were scared to make fun of me.' He snatched his gym bag off the floor. 'But seriously, go talk to her.'

Bob stared a little more into the distance, but knew that ultimately John was right. So he pulled himself out of it, grabbed the little bookmark you had made for him with your favourite quote written on it, and closed the book. He got up and felt his head ache a little, like he was getting a migraine.

He walked to the elevator with heavy steps experiencing a weird deja vu sensation. Once inside, he realized his back was prickling and shivers ran up his neck and down his arms. He stepped out of the elevator and into the hallway. Why was he here? He was reading before, he didn't remember why he had stopped. Where did he leave the book?

He shook his head at himself, then turned around to find his book.

* * *

A demanding knock pulled your eyes away from the phone and towards your door. You closed the doom scrolling device and let it fall next to you on the pillow.

'Come in,' you called out.

Yelena stuck her head in and entered. 'Hi, there,' she said in a bored tone. 'Are you alive'

'No,' you deadpan. 'Why?'

'Just checking,' she retorts, eyebrows raised as she examined one of the books on your shelf. You desperately needed a new shelf; books were stacked and crammed into every compartment, some threatening to fall out, while there were more books stacked next to the shelf on the ground. 

'Did you eat today?' she asked. 

Your eyebrows pull together in concentration, as you try to remember. The days were blurring together in your head. 'I had a banana earlier.'

'Yeah, well, its 3 pm. You need to eat.'

You groaned in response and turned to lay on your back. 

'Come on, get up.' Yelena nudges you, poking your side. 

'Ey, stop that!' You swat her hand away and flop your arm back on the bed. 'I don't even feel hungry.'

'I do not care how you feel, you need to eat.'

You whine as you get up as slowly as possible, just to annoy the assassin a little more.

'Come oonnnn,' she complains. 'It is food, not torture.'

'Why do you even care?' you asked, as you slipped on a pair of socks.

'Because you're the only sane one of this team, I'm not losing you to malnutrition. Now let's go.'

'Awwww,' you coo playfully as you follow her into the hallway and shut your door, 'you like me.'

'Yeah, yeah,' she can't help the smile taking over. 'I'll like you even more once you've eaten.'

You enter the elevator and gasp in mock surprise. 'Even more? You are going soft on me.'

Yelena rolls her eyes. 'Don't worry, Bob's still the softest for you. Or the hardest, who knows?' she smirks. 

Usually you and her would giggle about these kind of jokes, but you just blush and avert your gaze, without any response.

'Oh,' Yelena's voice turned soft. 'so this is what this is about?'

You shrug simply. 

'Okay, you know what? You need a girls night,' she says as you enter the kitchen. 'Just you, me and Ava.'

'What about me?' You hadn't seen John when you had entered.

Yelena's eyes shot daggers at him. 'Absolutely not. Girls night with just the girls. We don't need more men ruining the vibe.'

'More men? Jesus, who got your panties in a twist?'

'It's just Bob.' Yelena said as she pulled out a bag of pasta and pre-made bolognese. 

'Wait, so he still didn't talk to you about it?'John asked turning to you.

'About what?' you said, forehead wrinkled.

'Oh,' John let out a breath, realizing his mistake. 

'Walker, what does 'oh' mean?' You asked concerned. 

'Nothing,' he replied, hands up  in defense, though his eyes revealed panic. Yelena had turned to him as well now, the two of you were standing right in front of him. For some reason, Yelena was holding a kitchen knife.

'Walker,' she said, 'I suggest you tell us what you know. Right now.'

An exasperated sigh left his lips, as he started recounting his conversation with Bob from a few days ago.

* * *

You sat numbly on the chair, contemplating the past few days.

'I swear, I saw him walk in the direction of your room. I thought he'd talked to you already.'  John looked helpless.

Your airways were restricting again, your chest felt hollowed out and squeezed in at the same time. 

'We know he is shy,' Yelena tried to diffuse the situation. Your stomach clenced and you felt like you were going to throw up.

'Or he realized I'm not actually worth the trouble and he doesn't want me that much after all,' you choked out.

'Look, again. I know I'm not great at advice,' John interjected, 'and I don't follow my own advice very often. But- you guys need to seriously talk to one another.'

You nodded absentmindedly, though John suspected it was a sign that you heard him, not that you agreed with him. 

You didn't belief in fate or destiny, or karma, or any of those things, but Bob walking into the kitchen in that exact moment had to be a cosmic middle finger from the universe. 

'Hey, guys,' he greeted simply. Everyone let out a soft hey, one after the other, and an awkward silence stretched between the four of you.

John was the first one to snap out of it. He cleared his throat and stammered: 'I actually need to be- I gotta - yeah... Yelena can you help me with that?'

Her eyes were huge, and if you didn't know better you would have thought she was panicking. 'Yeah, yeah, yeah, I also gotta...' 

The two of them left the kitchen without saying anything. In any other situation this would have been declared a miracle. Now it was just you and Bob and a lot of tension between the two of you. 

'What were you guys talking about?' Bob asked, seemingly distracted.

'Uhm ...'  you knew this was your chance to actually have the conversation with him. You knew if you didn't talk about it now, you'd never have the courage to actually bring it up.

'Well, John was telling us - me about... about the conversation you two had a few days ago.'

Bob's eyebrows pulled together, yet he didn't interrupt you. 

'A-about... me,' you clarified. 

'What about you?'

You felt your stomach try to bring something up, but since you hadn't eaten you couldn't throw up. 'What do you mean what about me?' you asked, as you felt tears gather in your eyes.

Bob just looked at you without any emotions. Your eyes couldn't hold the tears any longer. 

'Bob, seriously? What the fuck is up with you? This is so not like you.'

'How would you know what's like me?' he asked, his voice low.

Your heart shattered right there. 'I - what? We are friends, I know you,' you sniffled, tears streaming down your face and lodging themselves uncomfortably under your chin. 

'I don't know why you'd say that,' he mumbled, his brows pulled together like he was trying to solve a math equation rather than talking to you. You couldn't stop the sob that tore from your throat. 

You fled the kitchen with superhuman speed, hurrying to get to your room, praying to any divinity that you wouldn't meet anyone. Of course, the universe worked against you. When rounding a corner you bumped into Alexei.

'Hello there, little one,' he said in good humour, though when he saw your face he immediately soften his tone. 'Oh, no.' he mumbled. His huge arms came up to hug you. 

'Alexei-' you started to protest, but he cut you off. 'Shh.... I know you don't think you need this. But let me help.'

You gave up struggling against him and relaxed into his arms, letting the sobs out and the tears flow freely. He just patted your shoulder. You assumed it was more awkward for him than for you, but it felt too good to finally cry everything out. 

After a few minutes your sobs subsided and your tears flowed silently. 

'So, tell me. Who may I kill?' Alexei asked.

A watery laugh left your lips as you wipe your face. 'No one, Alexei. But thank you.'

'You want to talk?' he asks much more gently than you would have expected from him.

'No, not really,' you sniffle. 'I think I'll take a nap.'

'Okay. But tell me if you change mind. I will gladly kill person who made you cry.'

You smile a  tiny smile, and leave to go to your room. 

* * * 

The next day was torture. You cried most of the time, were unable to eat and unable to talk to anyone. Yelena and Ava dropped by routinely to check in on you, and try to cheer you up, feeding you your favourite snacks and comfort foods.

John came by to apologize at one point. You waved him off and told him you knew he didn't have bad intentions. 

When Alexei found out what had happened he was, for the very first time in his life, speechless. 

Bucky tried to navigate the chaos with military precision, but ultimately just clapped you on the shoulder with the advice to take a vacation if you needed it.

The day afterwards there was less crying, and less interactions. The girls still checked up on you, but the rest of the team gave you space.

The following days developed similarly, until eventually a week had past and you felt nothing anymore. You didn't cry, but laughter was also hard to muster and in the end you felt like a living corps. 

You didn't see Bob at all, and a part of you was grateful. At least you could pretend nothing had happened as long as he wasn't around. You knew you would have to face him again eventually, but just for know you could pretend.

It happened ten days after the kitchen incident. You walked into the lounge room at six in the morning, unable to sleep. He was sitting crossed legged on the rug staring off into the distance. 

When he heard you, he turned. It was hard to breath, and you swallowed thickly before choking out: 'Hey, Bob.'

You looked at him and noticed that he was weirdly still. His eyes were fixated on you, but seemed almost completely black.