Stories of the Marvel-verse

Doctor Stephen Strange x Reader

OOOOOF

I've been having so many ideas for stories you guys!

Especially with Endgame coming and everything. Oooof. But I've been so busy with graduation and everything that it's been so difficult to have time to sit down to write...

Anyway! I hope you guys like this one! I was inspired by the Marshmello ft. Bastille song "Happier" for this one. I thought it really only fit Stephen for some reason. I don't know haha

Have requests for an Avenger?? Just ask and I'll do my best to write it up!

Thanks, guys <3

Enjoy~

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Lately, it had been on Stephen's mind how you wandered around your apartment, it wasn't your normal bouncy steps that sounded through the halls anymore. No, there was no joy that radiated from you anymore. But of course, why would there be?

The two of you had been having a horrible rough patch and neither of you knew how to fix it. It'd just slowly crept its way into your relationship without any real warning and before it got better it got worse- much worse. Any time either one of you tried to even begin to mend the wounds it only led to arguments, hurtful words, and the bridge became even more broken than it was before. The things that were said could never be unsaid, never unheard, never forgotten. No, the damage was already done and not even a doctor of his caliber (or Master of the Mystic Arts) could ever repair the hurt.

Everything was a mess, it was an utter wreck what the two of you had become- and it was so odd to him how something that started out so beautiful could be twisted into something so ugly. At the beginning you both tried to pretend nothing was wrong, always assuming that it would work itself out eventually. But it wasn't until one night when you were sitting on either side of the bed you shared, backs facing one another that it'd become evident nothing was going to get better any time soon. Stephen had never felt so far away from you in his entire life and it sickened him. He'd wanted so badly to reach around, grab you up, and cuddle you close like he used to. And yet, the courage never came to him.

Stephen knew he needed to fix it, say something- anything would be better than the separating silence that only wedged you further apart. But as he turned around to say something you spoke up before him. And he knew he'd never forget your words- "We've run our course, haven't we Stephen."

The finality of your voice hit him hard as the question was more of a statement that he'd never want to hear again. He had no idea what to say, he wanted to make you feel better, wanted to see you smile and yet he had no idea how to make that happen. How could he ever begin to know how to fix it when what you'd said was the truth.

The truth was that he'd noticed when you left the bedroom to sleep on the couch, but the silence of not having you there was just as painful as if you'd been there and just kept the quiet demeanor you'd adopted recently. As he sat alone his thoughts wandered to how he could make you happier, he wanted you to be back to that beautiful, bright person you were before everything fell apart. He wanted to hear that wonderful laugh he'd fallen so head over heels for once again.

..Even if that meant you being with someone else.

Right?

No. He couldn't ever stand that thought, he wouldn't be able to handle the idea of you being with someone else. It ate him up inside. The love Stephen held for you was beyond anything else he'd ever even be able to explain. Leaving wasn't the only way you'd be happy again, was it?

But as weeks dragged on into months of hearing you cry in your sleep, waking to see your side of the bed empty, and hurting one another with pretending that everything would work itself out, did Stephen finally realize.

The only way he could make you smile was to leave. He wanted to see you happier, to see you laugh again. No matter what he had to sacrifice of himself, he would make you happy.

So one night while you were asleep on the couch he'd begun to pack his things. Each one of his belongings going in suitcases that he'd move back to the Sanctum where he'd belonged. Yet- during the process of removing himself from your life for good- a few minutes would wash over him as he realized the idea he'd had wasn't the right one. It didn't feel right to him, Stephen wanted to change his mind.

Though as soon as he'd try to convince himself out of leaving the memories of you crying and screaming at him, the hurt in your eyes, the fear in your voice when you'd argue would come rushing back in a wave of guilt. It would only solidify his earlier conclusion. He had to leave.

So he'd go.

For you, he'd go.

The next day you'd woken to a quiet home and after some searching, you'd found a note on his side of the bed that read- "Lately, I've been thinking that I want you to be happier, (y/n). I know I can't give that to you anymore and even though I might not like this, I think that you'll be happier. So I'm doing what is best and going back to the Sanctum. Forgive all the things I've said to you, please. I never meant any of those hurtful words. You're more beautiful and precious to me than you'll ever know.

I love you no matter how this ends,

-Stephen"