100 Marvel One Shots✔️

Half-Magic Bookstore Girl >> Stephen Strange X Reader

Title: Half-Magic Bookstore Girl

Paring: Stephen Strange X Reader

Warnings: female reader, magic, almost mugging, fluff, kissing

Spoilers: set after Doctor Strange (2016) and Thor: Ragnarok (2017). Might have some spoilers dotted through. Be careful!

Requested by:  gorillazgirll

Author's Note: I know this was a request for a Soulmate AU, but I made my little take on it, because I had so much trouble writing it the other way. I hope you like it!

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As the primary owner to the bookshop on the corner of West street, it should have been more of a shock to you when you found a very special book come in with the shipping of new stock. To be honest, the whole notion of magic was not quite as shocking to you as to other people; your grandmother, and her mother, and her grandmother all had the Sight themselves, and with that, had the ability to see strange things that were within the world. That was great and all, but it was 2018, and New York City had used its capacity for magic up when it allowed for the superheroes to roam.

You'd went almost all your twenty-seven years of life without seeing a scrap of magic, and yet, when it arrived, it wasn't that much of a shock. Because laying within the crate between the new titles for upcoming release and the freshly minted special edition printed Mr. Men & Little Miss series, was a different book.

It had a leather cover, bound with strange markings, and once your fingertips touched it, you felt a chill run up your arms, settling behind your neck. Sure, you'd seen your grandmother practicing simple disappearing spells on teacups from the kitchen to the bathroom, but they never had the same feel as this item.

The only logical thing to do was flip the sign to the shop to closed! and sit in the back room with a cup of peppermint tea and a slice of lemon cake and stare at the thing.

"Um...hello?" you speak to the book, like it's alive. It's better to be respectful than not, and treating it like an equal was one way to do that. "My name's ________. If you could –,"

With all the windows closed in the back room, there was a sudden breeze that smelt of summer wind, and the cover and pages flicked open, sending your tea dribbling down your fingers as you jumped. Slowly, the pages stopped moving, until it settled upon an open spread nearly midway in the book. But peering, you saw that there were no words upon the page, no pictures, no lines, or markings at all. There were only blank pages the colour of aged parchment or tea-stained napkins.

"What are you showing me?" you ask the book. Beside you, a biro began to wobble, shaking where it lay upon the table. Discarding your tea, your fingers take the ballpoint pen, and move to the open book. "You want me to draw? I'm rubbish, I can only draw clouds, and they look like hats..." the pen pulsates in your fingers, and moving itself, puts its tip down upon the page, and writes a word.

Hello.

"Write? I can write," you tell the book, chuckling under your breath. If this magical book that acted like it was part Ouija board knew anything about you, it was once upon a time before dropping out of college, you had worked toward a degree in writing literature. "Alright, here we go..."

Hello, was already written...my name is ________. Is anyone there?