Procrastinator.

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Female! Reader

Summary: You attend Christine’s wedding with Stephen by your side, only for your suspicions to be confirmed about the ex-couple. 

Genre: MAJOR angst, Arguments, Stephen being a slight asshole? 

Warning: Slight cursing, NO spoilers from Multiverse of Madness, besides Christine’s wedding

A/N: Good morning loves! It has been a very long time since I’ve written anything on Tumblr, but I was feeling extra creative from all the Stephen Strange fanfiction I had been reading over the past week. There’s not many out there, which is pretty disappointing, so I thought I’d give him a shot. I hope people really enjoy this one,and asks for a sequel, because I’ve been brainstorming one already. 

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You knew it was a bad idea to go to that fucking wedding.

You fucking knew it and you did it anyway, just to be a good and decent girlfriend.

But you instantly regretted it when you stepped foot into the expensive venue in one of New York's many skyscrapers. Especially when your boyfriend couldn't keep his damn eyes off the bride.

The taxi came to a quick halt in front of the doors of the Sanctum Sanctorum, the driver internally anxious from the high-rising tension that surrounded both Stephen and I, no doubt. Not bothering to say any sort of thanks, I quickly opened the door and slipped out of the vehicle, my heels clicking against the pavement.

"So what? You're going to give me the silent treatment all day, is that it?- Thank you sir." Stephen asked sternly, slamming the car door, not before he kneeled down to wave at the man with a forced smile.

You continued to stay silent, yanking roughly on the door handle and letting yourself into the open foyer.

"Y/N, I'm speaking to you." He tried again, but to no avail, seeing that you continued walking, pausing only to take your heels off. Before you could reach the grand stairwell that was in the middle of the large room, Wong entered suddenly from one of his portals, a bowl of cereal in his hands.

A surprised look was in his eyes at the sight of the both of us. "You guys are back from Christine's wedding already? It couldn't have been that quick."

You huffed angrily at the mention of her name, ignoring the Sorcerer Supreme entirely, and hastily ran up the stairs.

"Not helping, Wong." Stephen mumbled under his breath, finally having an idea of why you were so angry.

What he didn't get was that it had been years since him and Christine had been together. Sure, it took some time for him to get over the woman and it was only right to attend her wedding since they had been colleagues for so long.

But his life completely changed for the better when he arrived at the Kamar-Taj to seek help for his injured hands and met you in the process. 

He despised the real and brutal arguments he rarely shared with you. He much preferred the playful ones. 

But based on the way you were currently stalking towards your shared bedroom and yanking away from his attempted grasps, this one was going to hurt. 

Once you reached the door, you tried to slam it behind you, but it bumped hard against the doctor's shoulders, frustrating him. "You do realize you're behaving like a child, correct?" 

"Oh, I'm a child now?" You snatched the fancy clip out of your hair, letting it fall on your shoulders, whipping around to face him.

"Yes, you're acting like a brat." 

You swallowed hard, praying that you remained strong enough to not let the tears fall.

"Are you still in love with her?" 

The grown man took a few seconds to stare at you hard, before he let out a harsh laugh, shaking his head. "This again?" 

That's when you just surrendered to the anger that was brewing deep inside of you, hot tears rolling down your face as you went to the closet, tossing the fancy shoes inside. "You're a fucking asshole, you know that? You obviously think I'm too stupid to notice you were staring at her during the damn ceremony." 

Stephen unbuttoned his tuxedo jacket. "It was a wedding ceremony, aren't you supposed to be looking at the bride when she first enters?" 

"Not when the bride is your ex-girlfriend, Stephen." 

"Then what the hell did you want me to do, huh!" He raised his voice at you, despite you moving across the room, occupied with getting ready for a hot shower. "Deny the damn wedding invitation?" 

You walked toward the dresser, snatching some comfortable clothes out, glancing at him with clouded vision. "You know that's not what I meant." 

"Then what do you mean, huh Y/N? Because this bullshit always seems to turn on me-" 

You slammed the drawer loudly, interrupting him. "I asked you a simple question, Stephen. That you deliberately chose not to answer." 

A hard look covered his handsome face at your words. "I am not in love with her." 

But it was too late, you didn't want to hear that shit. He had a perfectly open opportunity to answer truthfully and instead laughed in your face about it. You saw the way he looked at her and you knew that look all too well. You'd imagine that's exactly how you looked at him. 

With so much love and adoration. 

It almost made you sick to your stomach. 

You felt yourself cry harder, looking away from him. "You do love her, and you can lie to all of these other people, Stephen, but you can't lie to me." 

"Don't go turning this on me." His voice was dangerously low and filled with irritation. "This is about you. This is about you and those damn insecurities of yours! That nagging fear of a man leaving you for another, causing you to self- sabotage whatever the hell that comes your way." 

The painful insult that fell from the tip of his tongue seemed to echo in the completely silent room, which he had instantly regretted. 

He hadn't meant to say it. 

He had the habit of being a complete and arrogant asshole from time to time and the increasing frustration didn't help in the slightest. 

Your breath was hitched, as you stared at particularly nothing, the tight grip on the clothes loosening. You had, had enough. You didn't deserve to be someone's second choice. And you damn sure didn't deserved to be hurt like that either. 

"Y/N... shit- I didn't mean to-" Stephen breathed, desperation in the edge of his tone. 

You slowly turned around with no specific expression, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. 

"You're right, Stephen. And since my insecurities are so much for you to handle, then I'm not sure why I'm here at all.” 

You both stood there for a moment, before he tried to move closer to you, grabbing your hands, but you pulled away from him, shaking your head. 

"Forgive me...." He whispered, but you straightened the straps of your dress, grabbed your keys and bumped your body against his, headed for the door. 

He found himself standing alone in the quiet room, his hand covering his face. "Goddammit." 

What the fuck did he do?

___________________________________

It had approximately been almost seven days since he last saw you. 

And he’s never been so messed up in his entire life.

Since you had made the decision to leave after the argument without so much as a goodbye or even grabbing an overnight bag on the way out, he had spent the days either distracting his mind with the large collection of books in the library or keeping a watchful eye if there were any known threats to Earth and its residents. 

It kept him busy enough throughout his days.

The nights were what was hell for him. 

He had become so accustomed to having your warm body against his, once darkness fell over the sky, the moonlight peeking through the silk curtains, streaming along the hardwood floors of your bedroom. But his sleepless nights were cold with your side of the bed empty; his body tossing and turning from the lack of your touch or your soft exhales sounding near his ear. 

He couldn’t take it anymore. 

Every morning, the doctor was met with the sight of himself in the bathroom mirror, entire body sluggish and aching in pain with dark circles surrounding his blue eyes. 

He missed you. He craved you.... your touch, your scent, your laughter. 

But he also was afraid that he had lost you forever. And that nothing he did or said was going to get you to come back to him at all. 

He knew Wong couldn’t help but hear the argument from downstairs that day, the man was far from being an idiot to not know what had transpired.

And he was very, very tempted to ask him to search for where you were staying.

But, surprisingly enough, one morning, Wong beat him to it. 

Stephen was dressed in his soft robes, resting uncomfortably in an armchair in the library, beginning the third book from the stack of unread ones that he was working on. Wong had entered the room as he normally did, biting roughly into an apple, with a piece of paper in his other hand. Stephen ignored him entirely until the man stood in front of him, slipping the paper on top of the page that he was reading from. 

“What is this?” He answered monotone, staring irritably towards him. 

Wong took a moment to chew whatever that remained in his mouth. “The hotel that Y/N is staying at. Fix it.” 

A hard lump seemed to had formed inside Stephen’s throat instantly, as he stared silently at the what was in front of him. Wong had found a map of the street that they currently stayed on, drawing a red circle over a hotel that was only a few blocks away from the Sanctum. 

You were so close... and yet, you were the furthest that you’ve ever been away from him.

Fuck. 

It was hard for him to swallow as he stood to his feet, escaping down the long hallway and into your bedroom. Setting the paper down on his desk, he sat down, covering his face with anxiousness. 

He needed to call you. 

You were more than likely to shut the door in his face if he had showed up to your room and who knows what you would have done if he had just portaled himself inside instead. 

Letting out a shaky breath, he grabbed his phone, opening it with his passcode. His thumb hovered over your name for a long while, his mind racing like the speed of sound itself.

What if you hated him? And could never bring yourself to forgive him for what he said?

He wasn’t sure when it began, but his hands... his hands that were covered in scars from past treatments and surgeries... were trembling... just as they did when he first left the hospital, years ago. His finger shook as he tapped on your name and waited for you to reject the call almost immediately after the first ring. 

But two rings sounded.... and then three... and then your beautiful voice penetrated his ear from the prerecording of your voicemail, almost knocking the breath away from his lungs. 

It had only been a week and... your voice.....

Tears collected at the edges of his eyes, as the beep rang in his ear, persuading him to speak up. But all he could do was stare silently at his shaking hands, his breaths having emotional chokes in between them. 

He needed to pull himself together. 

Inhaling heavily, Stephen swallowed hard again, a single tear falling from eye. “I know that you don’t want to hear from me right now sweetheart.”

He paused, clenching his hand and closing his eyes.

“I know that I can be a fuck-up. I know that, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I took that frustration out on you that you did not deserve. But you have to know... when I look at Christine, it’s not... it’s not because I’m in love with her. I can be one hundred percent all into you and this relationship, I can. But I’m scared. I’m terrified, really.” He explained, wiping the tears that were now streaming down his covered jaw. “That I’ll fail you just like I did her. And I can’t- I can’t fail you. I’m not strong enough... to deal with that type of pain... that guilt. Not with you.” 

 His voice trembled as he spoke the last line, the man taking a moment to recollect his thoughts.