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Oh my god you’re doing TEOTFW I love it . I have a request for James and it’s literally as simple as I the reader and James getting stuck in a lift together. James thinks it’s the perfect chance to kill someone but the reader starts to get too optimistic as a coping mechanism for being trapped and he doesn’t know what to do about it

A Psychopath and a Chatterbox (James X Reader)

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Summary: After a long night in the library, you catch a lift back down to the first floor until it stops suddenly. The boy stuck with you is thinking about how this is the perfect chance to kill you, until you start to chatter away.

A/N: reader wants to be a vet and likes cats. obvious warning for talks of murder, and also some mentions of killing animals. im american so idk shit about european school systems. Reader and james are in uni (i think that’s the european version of college), so lets pretend that the events of teotfw didn’t happen so james still has his murderous tendencies

***

With finals quickly approaching, you’ve spent the last week studying in the campus library. You’ve probably spent more time in the library now than you had all semester.

You had been deep in a textbook when an alarm on your phone went off, signaling that the library was closing in five minutes. You jolted in surprise from both the sound and how late it was; you couldn’t believe so much time had passed. Quickly, you gathered your things and ran to the lift, hoping you’d make it before the outside doors locked.

When the lift doors closed after you entered, you let out a breath of relief. The last thing you needed was to be stuck in the place you had already spent the past four hours in.

The doors opened, confusing you for a moment. You weren’t on the ground floor yet; you had only moved down one floor. But then you saw a boy about your age walk in. The doors shut, and you started descending again.

“Hi.” The brunette’s voice was a bit tired. He kept facing forward, but glanced to the side at you, so he must’ve just wanted to be polite.

“Hey.” You responded. While staring forward like him, you caught something in your peripheral. “Your bag’s open.”

He knitted his eyebrows in confusion. “Huh?” Then he swung his backpack around, seeing that you were right and the main pocket was open. “Oh, thanks.” Then he zipped it up, slinging it back over his shoulder.

It was silent after that, aside from the occasional sniffle. When you looked up at the level indicator, you saw that you were passing through the third floor.

But then the lift paused. You and the mystery boy jolted at the sudden stop, looking around in confusion. You must’ve been stuck between floors.

Your nameless companion pressed the ground floor button a few times, but the lift didn’t start up again. He pressed the emergency button and tried using the emergency phone beside the panel of buttons. Nothing.

You looked at your watch and sighed. “The lifts must stop when the library closes.”

“Or maybe the lift’s just fucked.”

“Maybe.”

Ten minutes later, it still wasn’t budging. You and the boy, who you learned was named James, sat on the floor facing each other. You patted your thighs rhythmically, trying to relieve the boredom and anxiousness you were feeling.

James, on the other hand, was messing around with his backpack. You couldn’t really see what he was doing, which he was glad about. Because just out of your view, he was playing around with the hunting knife his father had gotten him one year. He didn’t want you to be alarmed by the sight.

He figured it would make killing you a bit less enjoyable. If you freaked out and started to struggle.

But it’s not like you could get away, not when you were trapped in a lift together late at night in an empty building. That’s what made it so perfect. There were no cameras in the lift, so there’d be no visual evidence of the crime. And when he looked up, James could see a large vent in the middle of the ceiling, which he could probably climb out through if he undid the screws and then open the doors of the floor that you were stuck slightly under.

After years of fantasizing, planning, and preparation, it was as if God himself were handing James this opportunity.

“So, what’re you studying?”

Your voice had brought James out of his deep thoughts, and only then did he notice he had an iron grip on the knife handle. He quickly set the knife down in his lap so you wouldn’t see it, still keeping his hand on it while he awaited the perfect moment to strike. “What?”

“What’re you studying?” You asked again, smiling softly but awkwardly at him. You figured you might as well try to get to know this stranger, as it was unforeseeable how long you’d be stuck together in this little box.

“Oh.” He wasn’t expecting you to speak to him. James was preparing himself for a very wordless interaction, apart from your possible screams. “Um, criminology.” Considering his hobbies and ambitions, he figured that would be a good major for him. He saw it as a bit of a preventative measure because he could learn from the mistakes of others.

“Interesting.” You respond, sitting up a little straighter. “How’s that going?”

James was a bit put off by your wanting to make conversation. “Fine.” He carefully twirled the big knife in his hand. “What do you study?” He figured it was only polite to return the favor. Might as well ask you a bit about yourself before he kills you.

Your face lit up, and you quickly started talking about your major and the classes you were taking. James was only half listening, too busy thinking. He wasn’t used to people being this energetic, especially so late at night. He made sure to nod and hum at the appropriate times, but other than that, he just stared at you.

‘Maybe I should turn her around.’ James thought to himself. ‘Looking at her face might make it more difficult.’ He recognized that you had a nice face but quickly pushed those thoughts aside. ‘Focus.’

“I think I’d like working with small animals most; they’re just so precious.” James’ interest was piqued as you finished your rambles with a smile.

“Small animals?” He repeated, and you nodded. James liked small animals too, although it was for an entirely different reason. “Do you have a favorite?”

He didn’t know why he was asking additional questions, but after seeing your eyes brighten at the question, he didn’t regret it.

“Cats, definitely.” You answer, and James couldn’t help but lean forward a bit with curiosity. “A lot of people think they’re mean, but I think they just need the right person.”

Of all the animals James had encountered, he supposed he liked cats the most. They were a bit affectionate with him when they didn’t know what was about to happen. And when they realized the danger they were in, they put up more of a fight, which he appreciated a bit.

“Cats are nice.”

“Especially kittens. They’re just so adorable.”

‘And put up less of a fight.’ James thought.

“Aren’t all cats born with blue eyes?” He asked instead. You nodded, diving into an explanation about how kittens don’t start producing melanin until they’re six weeks old.

‘I should just do it now.’ James gripped the knife tightly. ‘She’s talking too much.’

Yet he kept listening and asking questions. Your talkativeness infuriated and interested James, and he had no clue what to do about it.

Suddenly, the lift slowly descended, and you both jolted in surprise. James quickly stuffed the hunting knife in his backpack and stood up. For some reason, he couldn’t help but reach his hand out to help you stand up. You didn’t even make a comment about how weird and fucked up his hand was, instead just thanking him.

When the doors opened, a custodian was surprised to see you two in the lift. “What’re you two doing here? It’s after hours.”

“Lift got stuck,” James answered, and the two of you exited the lift and then the library. “I can walk you home. If you’d like.”

He didn’t know why he offered, but let it go when you accepted. Maybe the extreme darkness would give him another opportunity.

But James never took it. Instead, he walked you to your dorm, making idle conversation with you the whole way. You did most of the talking, which you liked.

“Maybe I’ll see you around.” You said as he walked you to the door of the building.

“Yeah,” James said. “Maybe.”

“Be safe, James.” You waved to him before going inside, leaving the boy outside frustrated and confused about his night with you. But one thing was for sure, he hoped to see you again.

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