𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐔𝐒
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 | Harry Wells x Super Hero!Reader
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | Mention of death, near death experience
𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘥 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶.
Masterlist
The hum of the S.T.A.R. Labs lab was constant, like the steady beat of a heart. The air buzzed with the collective effort of Barry, Caitlin, Cisco, and Harry—all working tirelessly, pushing their minds and their skills to find a solution that would trap Zoom and finally close the breach for good. The weight of the looming threat was always in the back of your mind, hanging over the lab like a dark cloud. But despite the sense of urgency and the fear of what might happen if they didn’t succeed soon, there was also a strange clarity in the work. It sharpened your focus, as though the tension made everything else fade into the background. You couldn’t afford to think about anything else. You had to stay sharp.
But as much as you tried to stay focused on the task at hand, there was one person who refused to leave your thoughts.
Harrison Wells—Earth-2 version.
You had been part of Team Flash for a long time. Long enough to know that trust didn’t come easily. Long enough to have seen betrayal up close, especially from someone who had once been a part of your team, someone who wore the name Harrison Wells but was secretly Eobard Thawne in disguise. You had lived through the pain of that betrayal, and it had made you wary of anyone who could even remotely remind you of the man you thought you knew.
So, when the Earth-2 version of Harrison Wells showed up, you were understandably cautious. There was no telling what kind of man this version of Wells was. He was different, but in some ways, he was also too familiar. At first, you couldn’t quite make him out. Was he trustworthy? Was he just another manipulator? Or was he someone who could help?
But as the days passed, you started to see something that you didn’t expect.
A grumpy, sarcastic, brooding charm that seemed to surround him like a dark cloud. And for reasons you couldn’t fully explain, you found yourself drawn to him. Not in the way that made you feel nervous or uncertain—no, this was different. It was an odd mixture of curiosity and something else. Maybe it was the way he always had a sharp retort ready, or how he would argue with you like a seasoned partner, but never in a mean way. He could be tough, unyielding, but never cruel.
It was strange, but there was something about his arguments with you that felt… oddly familiar. Like the way an old married couple bickers over the smallest, most insignificant things. You could feel the teasing in your voice when you’d push back against one of his opinions, but there was no malice in it.
You didn’t mind it. In fact, you came to look forward to it. The way he would cross his arms and huff, the way his lips would quirk when he was about to argue again.
There was a warmth behind his gruff demeanor. A softness that was just hidden beneath the surface, waiting for someone to notice.
And you did.
It wasn’t something you could explain to anyone—not that you tried. At first, you tried to keep your feelings for him to yourself, chalking it up to simple admiration or maybe even a little bit of fascination with how different he was from the previous Harrison Wells. But the more you worked with him, the more you realized that your feelings weren’t so simple. The easy back-and-forth, the teasing, and the way your interactions always felt so natural—it made you feel… comfortable. And that comfort was slowly starting to change into something else.
It was like a game. You’d tease him, and he’d play right along. Sometimes, you could see the flicker of a smile on his face before he would quickly hide it. Sometimes he’d get frustrated, but you could tell it wasn’t serious—just part of the game. And it was that balance of tension and playfulness that you found so strangely appealing.
You would find yourself going out of your way just to provoke him a little, enjoying the way he would respond, his sharp wit never failing to make you laugh. He was a challenge, a puzzle you couldn’t quite figure out, but you liked that. You liked the way he made you think, how every conversation with him felt like a little mental sparring match.
And yet, no matter how much you bickered, there was a strange sense of comfort between the two of you. It wasn’t the kind of comfort you felt around the others—Caitlin, Barry, and Cisco. It was different. It was the kind of comfort that came from familiarity, from knowing someone well enough to know how to push their buttons, yet still feel safe enough to be yourself around them.
You knew Harry was sharp. He was intelligent, intense, and sometimes a little intimidating, but there was something endearing about him when he wasn’t being so… well, Harry. It made you realize that he wasn’t so much a mystery to solve, but someone who was, in his own way, just as human as everyone else on the team.
You stood in front of the transparent board, marker in hand, staring at the calculations you had been scribbling for the past hour. The numbers and formulas were tangled together in a messy web, but you were certain you were close to something. You just needed to tweak a few more things to find the right way to close the breach and trap Zoom once and for all.
“Alright,” you muttered to yourself as you jotted down another number, but you felt the familiar presence of Harry
hovering nearby. You didn’t need to look to know that he was watching, probably waiting for you to mess something up, as usual.
A moment later, you heard his voice, the same calm, but firm tone that had become a signature of his.
“You’re not considering the frequency resonance of the breach correctly,” he said, his words measured, like he was explaining something very obvious. “You’re too focused on the vibrations’ variations, and it’s skewing your entire calculation.”
You rolled your eyes, even though he couldn’t see it. “I did consider that, Harry. It’s right here,” you pointed to a section of the board where you’d accounted for it. “What you’re not seeing is the variance in the temporal energy fluctuations. It’s what keeps causing the breach to destabilize.”
Harry sighed in that way that always made you feel like you were missing something incredibly simple. “No, you’re missing the bigger picture,” he said, a slight edge to his voice. “The breach is fluctuating, yes, but it’s more about how the frequencies interact with the quantum field. If you don’t adjust for that, everything you’re doing is a waste of time.”
You could feel the heat rising in your chest, the quiet thrill of arguing with him. “I know exactly what I’m doing, Harry,” you said, a teasing smile tugging at your lips, even though he couldn’t see it. “Maybe you should just let me finish, since I’m the one holding the marker.”
There was a small pause, a flicker of something in his gaze as he watched you, before he finally leaned back in his chair, clearly not about to give up just yet. “Fine. But I’m telling you, you’re overcomplicating things,” he shot back, his voice still as controlled as ever, but there was a hint of challenge in it that you couldn’t ignore.
“Overcomplicating? Really?” You spun to face him, walking a few steps toward him, your heels clicking against the floor as you moved. “You’re the one who insists that the frequencies must line up perfectly before we even consider the temporal fluctuations,” you teased, your eyes narrowing mischievously. “I’m not the one stuck in my own little theory.”
Harry’s eyes narrowed too, though there was a spark in them that felt more… playful than you had expected. “I’m not stuck. You’re just too focused on the easy stuff.”
“Oh, is that what this is?” you quipped, standing directly in front of him now, almost in between his legs as you placed your hands on your hips, still holding the marker. "Maybe I’m just better at this than you.”
You could see the corner of his lips twitch, but he said nothing for a moment, simply looking at you with that serious intensity of his. There was something about the way he looked at you that made your pulse race, a sudden awareness of his presence that you hadn’t felt earlier.
You refused to let yourself get distracted, though. The teasing, the bickering, it was all part of the game, right? You were just having fun, weren’t you? You wanted to get the last word. That’s all.
“I know how to fix this breach. Maybe you should take a seat and let me finish. But no, you’ve got to keep nitpicking everything.”
Harry leaned forward just slightly, his blue eyes locking onto yours with a focused intensity. “I’m not nitpicking,” he said quietly, but you could hear the hint of a challenge in his voice. “I’m just trying to save you from making a huge mistake.”
That was it. You weren’t going to let him have the last word this time.
“If you’re so sure you can do it better, then take the marker and show me,” you said with a playful smirk, feeling the familiar thrill of teasing him. “I’d love to see how you—”
You stopped abruptly, words catching in your throat as Harry stood up.
In that instant, everything around you seemed to freeze. You had been standing so close to him already, your bodies almost touching, but the moment he rose from his chair, it felt like the space between you completely vanished. His towering presence loomed over you—he was a full head taller, his body just inches away from yours.
He was tall—really tall—and the way he stood, towering over you, made your heart race faster than you’d like to admit.
Your breath faltered as you realized just how much you had underestimated how tall he was. You shouldn't be surprised, but you were used to seeing the old Harrison constantly sitting in his wheelchair.
This was different. He was standing. You could feel the warmth radiating from him, and for a moment, you couldn’t think straight.
Your knees felt weak, as if the ground beneath you might just give way. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this… exposed, so aware of another person’s presence. It was as if the air had thickened between you, and suddenly, all the playful bickering seemed insignificant. The tension that had always simmered beneath your words now felt electric, almost palpable.
You blinked, but the words you'd been preparing to say completely slipped from your mind. His blue eyes were so intense, fixed on you as if he could read every thought you were trying to hide.
For a second, you felt your breath catch in your throat. Was it you, or was it suddenly so much warmer? The air between you felt thick, charged with something you couldn’t quite place, but it was almost suffocating. Your skin felt too tight, and you could feel the heat rise in your cheeks, the way your body reacted without you even trying to control it.
Harry seemed to notice, his voice quieter, more measured. "Something wrong?" His tone had shifted, no longer filled with teasing but carrying an almost gentle quality that made your insides do flip-flops. There was no mockery now—just curiosity, maybe even concern. It sent a wave of nervousness crashing over you, and for a moment, you couldn’t quite tell if you were standing on solid ground anymore.
You swallowed, trying to regain some semblance of control over your racing heart. You opened your mouth to speak but had to swallow again before you could manage any coherent words. "Uh… no," you managed, but even you could hear the slight tremor in your voice. The last thing you wanted was to sound unsure, but the way Harry was looking at you—standing so close, his presence so powerful—it was impossible to focus on anything else. It was embarrassing how easily he could affect you.
Harry’s eyes flickered to your face, studying you with that same intensity, and a bemused smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "You’re staring," he pointed out, his voice more curious than teasing now. There was no mocking tone, no playful challenge—just an observation that made your cheeks burn even more.
You froze, caught in the act. You hadn’t even realized you were staring. Your eyes had simply been drawn to him, to the way his tall frame seemed to take up more space than you had expected. His broad shoulders, the sharpness of his jawline, the way his posture had softened when he stood—it was impossible to ignore, and your gaze just followed the natural line of his form.
You took a shaky breath and tried to take a step back, but your legs felt a little too unsteady for it. You were acutely aware of how close he was, of how you had moved almost into his personal space. Your mind scrambled for something normal to say, anything to break the tension that was quickly building between you.
"I just… I didn’t realize you were so..." You trailed off, suddenly unsure of how to finish the sentence. The words felt stuck in your throat. You couldn’t even remember what you had been about to say. His eyes—those piercing, blue eyes—pulled you in again, and for a moment, you couldn’t tear your gaze away.
"So?" Harry prompted, his voice lower now, with a trace of amusement. He didn’t pull back or make any effort to put distance between you—if anything, he leaned in just slightly, as if to invite you to keep speaking. His lips twitched, holding back a grin, and you felt the magnetism between you grow even stronger.
"Tall," you blurted out before you could stop yourself, and the instant the word left your mouth, your face flushed even more, the embarrassment flooding you. You could practically feel the heat radiating from your cheeks. "I didn’t realize how tall you were."
It sounded so ridiculous.
You winced internally, wishing for the ground to swallow you up. It was such a stupid thing to say, but his reaction was unexpected. Harry’s amused smile softened into something else, almost like he was genuinely entertained by your flustered state.
He didn’t mock you, didn’t say anything else for a few seconds, but the way he looked at you now—his blue eyes just slightly squinting, a playful glimmer in them—left you feeling uncomfortably exposed. You could hear his breath, steady and calm, and it only made you more aware of the close proximity.
"Well, now you do," he said, his voice low, as if savoring the moment.
Before you could react, Harry took the marker from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours. It was a fleeting touch, but it sent a jolt of electricity through you, making you freeze for a moment. The warmth from his touch lingered on your skin, and when you didn’t move, he raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement still dancing in his eyes.
"May I?" he asked, his voice soft but carrying a certain authority that made your heart skip.
You blinked, suddenly realizing he was waiting for you to step aside so he could get to the board. Flushing a deep red, you quickly stepped back, not trusting yourself to say anything. You felt like you were still in a trance, caught in the intensity of his gaze and presence.
As he moved toward the board, you couldn’t help but watch him. He took the marker and began to correct your calculations with a practiced hand. His arm flexed as he wrote, muscles shifting beneath the fabric of his shirt, his movements confident, assured. You couldn’t tear your gaze away from the way his body seemed to fill the space around him, the lines of his back, the curve of his neck as he focused on the board.
It hit you then, all at once: you’d been blind to this before. The way your pulse quickened whenever he was near, the way his presence seemed to fill every room. You’d tried to ignore it, tried to tell yourself it was just work—but now, standing so close, you realized you were drawn to him in ways you hadn’t even admitted to yourself. The attraction had always been there, simmering under the surface. But now it was impossible to deny.
You took a tentative step closer, unable to stop yourself, your eyes locked on his calculations as you tried to regain some sense of normalcy. You had to focus on the math, not on the way your heart seemed to race whenever he was near.
When Harry finished, he turned toward you with a small, satisfied smile. “There, you see? That's correct,”
he said, pointing to the final result.
You leaned in to look at what he’d done. You reread the numbers, the equation, the way it all fit perfectly together, and you realized with a quiet sense of awe that he had been right from the start. He’d been right about everything. You looked up at him, ready to offer your reluctant apology, but instead, you found him already looking at you. His gaze was so intense it felt like it was pulling you in, like he could see straight through you.
The air around you seemed to thicken, the distance between you shrinking with each passing second. Your lips parted, but no words came out. There was only the beating of your heart, louder now, and the soft sound of his breath, steady and close.
Harry took a step forward, his body moving with an ease that was almost hypnotic. His eyes never left yours, and before you could even fully process what was happening, his hand reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. The gesture was gentle, but it felt intimate, like an invitation.
Then, without warning, his lips were on yours. The kiss was slow, testing, as if he was waiting for you to pull away, but you didn’t. You couldn’t. Instead, you leaned into him, your body moving instinctively toward his. The world around you seemed to vanish, leaving only the feeling of his lips, the warmth of his body pressed against yours, and the thundering of your heart in your ears.
For a moment, you thought you might be dreaming, but the way he kissed you, the way his hands held you gently, told you that this was real—far too real. And when he finally pulled away, just enough to breathe, his forehead rested against yours. His eyes searched yours, and you saw the same confusion, the same surprise reflected there.
"Was that... alright?" he asked quietly, as if he was still unsure of what had just happened.
You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you looked at him, taking in the depth of the moment, and then, with a smile that didn’t quite hide your own surprise, you nodded.
"Yeah," you said, your voice soft but sure. "I think that was... more than alright."
