The one where Bruce is your ex and he has realized the mistake he made when he let you go.
Warnings: smut, angst, ex!Bruce, semi-public sex, kind of cheating (Bruce is on a date with another woman), dirty talk, possessiveness, open ending
A/N: So, I didn’t want to claim any particular Bruce Wayne actors so I just put two that fit the moodboard I had in mind. Feel free to choose your favorite as you read. Special thanks to @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog for looking over this for me! I love you!
Y/N’s P.O.V.
“It’s good to see you.” I forced myself not to grind my teeth together, not to react in any way as my ex’s voice reached me. Plastering on the fakest smile I could muster, I turned around to face him with practiced surprise.
“Bruce! How nice to see you.” I accepted his hug, kissing the air around both of his cheeks, but making sure not to breathe in his cologne. “Well, I should go back in there…” In reality, I’d only just stepped out onto this balcony when he decided to join me, and so it was obvious I was trying to avoid him.
I was way past the point of caring, though. I just needed to get out of there.
“No, please.” His fingers gripped my wrist, freezing me in place before I could make my escape. “Please, stay.” I didn’t want to turn around. I didn’t want to face him.
I used to love this man with all of my heart. I thought we would grow old together. I truly, wholeheartedly - stupidly - believed he was the one.
And he broke it all off with me without so much as an explanation. I wiped the blood from his body when he came home to me all beaten up. I stayed up past my bed time most nights, waiting for him to get back - waiting to know if he’d ever get back to me again.
And then he just threw all of that love away as if it was nothing.
“I don’t want to,” I admitted, pulling my hand free from his grasp. “I don’t owe you anything anymore. And I don’t want to be near you.” I was prepared to leave when his voice interrupted me.
“You say that, but you’re still wearing the necklace I bought you.” I froze by the door, hand over the handle, unbelieving of what he had said.
How could he? Try to take this one small memento I kept from our time together - a gift he’d given me - by throwing on my face that he’d been the one to pay for it?
After everything I cried?
“You’re an asshole,” I snarled. “Do you want it back?” I asked, my hands already fiddling with the clasp of the damn thing. “Is that it?” Bruce grimaced, rushing towards me to stop me from tearing the fragile chain from my neck.
“No.” He shook his head enthusiastically. “I want you back.”
There was such vulnerability in his tone that it froze me, breaking my defenses in a second. We both stared at each other, me with incredulity in my eyes, him with what seemed like hurt and regret.
Absentmindedly, my gaze dropped lower, until I was staring at his lips.
It was simple magnetism. His mouth descended on mine before I could realize what was happening, and I went on with it, easily slipping back into the habit of curling my tongue around his and swallowing down his taste.
When we parted for air, he didn’t seem to be able to pull away completely, instead opting to deposit a kiss on my chin before trailing a path down my jaw.
I pushed him away when he reached my neck, suddenly sobering up with the cold wind that brushed against my sensitive lips, reminding me of why I shouldn’t want this.
“You asshole,” I complained. “I told you if you called it quits, that would be it. I told you!” My voice was strong. He knew how I felt, could see it in the way I was shaking my head, avoiding his eyes as I hugged my torso to protect from the cold.
“Can’t I be wrong?” He surprised me, prompting me to whip my head up and meet his eyes again. “At least once?” I didn’t know what to say. The Bruce I knew would never admit defeat. He was too proud to apologize or recognize his own mistakes.
“Don’t leave me again,” he insisted, holding me captive under his stare. “I need you.” At my lack of response, the man fell to his knees before me, head bowed as my mouth fell open.
“The great big Batman,” I couldn’t help but taunt, “on his knees for little old me. What would your enemies think if they saw you like this?”
“If they knew how sweet your pussy tastes, they’d understand,” was his response, uttered in such a no-bullshit tone that it had me choking on air in surprise. “Of course,” Bruce went on to say, shrugging as if it was no big deal. “That only means I’d have one more reason to put them away, eventually.”
I didn’t know what to say. But he wouldn’t allow me the decency of sane thinking. That much became clear when he reached out for me, grabbing the edge of my dress so I’d stumble forward, crossing the distance between us. “Please,” he begged, “let me eat you out.” And then, for kicks and giggles (because I couldn’t for the life of me believe he’d say this for any other reason), he added, “I’m starving.”
Warmth filled my being as unwanted (but not unpleasing) memories of the many, many times Bruce Wayne had sunk to his knees and ate me out like a starved man rushed through me, and I was forced to look away from his dark eyes to try to think straight. I couldn’t really say I achieved that, but at least some rationality was still evident in my being when I argued, “there’s a model waiting for you back there.”
I had hoped that the reminder would serve to wake the both of us up. He had a date inside the ballroom we’d hastily abandoned, the same one we could still see from the glass windows that so easily showed the two of us out here for anyone interested in taking a nice deep breath of air, too.
“I don’t want her cunt,” he brazenly affirmed. “She can’t feed me the way you do.” I shuddered at the vulgarity of his words, although I’d grown accustomed to it in the time we were together. To the rest of the world, Bruce Wayne might have been this elegant and put-together millionaire, but behind closed doors (or… anywhere he could get me alone, considering the very open balcony we were in) he didn’t hide how dirty and sexually driven he was.
I’d never know what led me to accept it. Perhaps it was the reminder of the real him, the one that I knew would do something as insane as this - the one only I knew.
Perhaps it was the reminder that somewhere deep inside of me, the adventurous girl that he brought out of me still lived.
“Okay,” I nodded my acceptance, and the only sound in response was the tearing of my underwear before he threw the garment out of both of our sights.
“Fuck.” I had to rest my weight against the balcony, as his warm tongue immediately licked me open to accept more of his exploration. I was so wet, it was dripping from me, past his tongue and cheeks and jaw that rubbed me on the inside of my thighs, until it reached the floor beneath us - or maybe even his slacks. Maybe I was making a mess out of him in more than one way, a different mess than the one he had left me in, to compensate for precisely that.
All I knew what that Bruce was right there, knelt between my legs, holding me open and locked in his arms, as he devoured me.
“Bruce…” The sound of my name or the feeling of my fingers running through his silky locks elicited a deep grumble out of his chest - one that reverberated up my body until it metamorphosed and became a moan, escaping through my lips this time.
“Mine,” came his response, muttered against wet, hungry skin, only to be repeated again as both of us adamantly ignored the risky position we were both in. “Mine, all mine.”
I should push him away. I shouldn’t even have gotten into this position in the first place. But my anxiety over the situation was suddenly nowhere to be found.
I was too drunk on him to care if anyone was going to see us while we were standing right there.
His tongue traced over my clit as one of his hands trailed up my body and curled around my breast. The possessiveness was clear in the gesture, but it was too much. I began to hyperventilate, feeling warm despite the wind hitting my sweaty skin, and he knew it.
Of course, he knew it.
“Let go, kitten,” he ordered. “You know I’ll catch you. Just let go and cum for me.”
And so I did. I closed my eyes and gave in to the bliss he was bringing me, knowing that by the time I was able to control my trembling body again, he’d still be standing right there, holding me to him.
When I came to my senses, he was still nuzzling against my sensitive cunt, a satisfied little sigh escaping his lips before I had to drag him away through my grip on his hair.
Surprisingly, the control freak I used to date didn’t complain. Instead, he rose to his full height, licking his lips clean of my essence and then capturing my mouth in a bruising kiss that left me so weak he had to keep me up by pressing me against the banister of the balcony.
I could feel his erection against my stomach. We didn’t speak of it and he didn’t make any move towards taking care of it - and if that didn’t show how changed Bruce was from the egocentric bastard that broke my heart, I didn’t know what did.
“I’ve been so lonely without you,” he confessed, burying his face on the crook of my neck. The hotness of his breath on my sweaty skin had me shivering, but in the embrace of his warm body, I didn’t feel uncomfortable at all.
Pulling away abruptly, he made sure I was looking into his eyes before he said the next few words: “I don’t want to feel that way ever again. Please, say you’ll take me back.”
A heavy breath left my lips and I avoided his eyes, looking to the side even though I fumbled with the buttons in his shirt while I did so. I couldn’t deny the way he made me feel - not after the orgasm he’d given me - but my heart wasn’t fixed just like that. I still needed time to heal, if I was ever going to.
Weak kisses to my jaw pulled me away from my thoughts. “Don’t do this, sweetheart,” he whispered against my skin, eliciting goosebumps where his mouth touched. “Don’t let your pride get in the way of you and me.”
-------
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Author’s note: I’m so happy that so many of you love this series. I’ve been really happy with the way it’s turning out. Let me know if you’re enjoying it so far, and I promise part 4 will be up soon!
(Part 1)
(Part 2)
Don’t Make Empty Promises: Part 3
You slowly approached Bruce’s grand bedroom, careful not to spill anything, as per Alfred’s request.
The night before was such a roller coaster. It all played through your head again, and you wondered how long it took Bruce to follow your advice and go to sleep. On the bright side, you thought, he has to feel and look at least a little better.
You carefully balanced the tray in one hand, lightly rapping on the door with the other.
“Room service,” you called out, a smirk playing on your lips. You pressed your ear to the door and heard Bruce shifting in his bed. You waited for footsteps, thinking he’d come and open the door. Silence. “Can I come in, Bruce?” You called again, still with your ear to the door. You could hear his muffled voice echo in the room, but you couldn’t understand what he was saying. “I’m just gonna take that as a yes,” you said to yourself, opening the door slowly.
You’d never been in the master bedroom before, despite the couple of years you’d lived here (which, if someone asked, you would clarify was only for business purposes, as you were his personal secretary. And Bruce had offered. As a friend. Like… roommates. Just like roommates. Nothing more). You had never found a reason to go in there. Partly because he would wake up on his own, and partly because whenever he had a… “guest” over, he would sleep with her in one of his guest bedrooms. He never brought anyone into his bedroom. You thought maybe it was because it would be too personal for him, it was his parents’ bedroom after all, but you’d never asked to clarify.
The room was beautiful. The furniture was all made of dark oak, and the room was riddled with gold accents. The aesthetic could definitely be attributed to Martha. She loved to decorate, and you were told she had a preference toward dark oak and gold. You couldn’t blame her. The sun shining through the gold curtains appeared to make the room glow. The grandiose bed lay against the back wall, centered. Two wide nightstands sit on either side, followed by large curtains that covered the windows, which led out to the balcony.
You set the tray down on the nightstand closest to Bruce and half opened the curtains, just to let a little more sunlight in. You slowly sat down on the edge of the bed, next to Bruce, who had rolled over to look at the tray you set down. He opened his eyes just enough to see what you had brought in, blinking to adjust to the bright room. He must’ve showered before he had gone to bed last night. His hair was clean, but tousled, with a few strands laying over his sleepy brown eyes. His clean shaven face regained a healthy glow. He no longer smelled of the bitter whiskey that he finished off the night before, and the dark circles under his eyes had faded just enough that he looked more like himself.
“Good morning, Mr. Wayne,” you whispered with a smile, “Alfred made some breakfast, and he had his heart set on making sure you could enjoy a warm meal.” You brought your hand up to his head and gently began to run your fingers through his hair. Whenever he had a relapse in his depression, you’d learned how to relax him. Over the years, you figured out what he liked, what helped him relax, what was comforting, and why he acted certain ways. He had said a while ago that running your fingers through his hair reminded him of his mom. You picked up the habit ever since, and he never seemed to mind it. A small grin pulled at the corner of his mouth. You hadn’t seen that signature smirk in ages. You started to think that maybe you had Bruce back. That everything would be okay now.
“Alfred or you?” He mumbled coyly, finally looking up at you. Putting your hand up to your chest, you feigned offense.
“Alfred made the breakfast, and he wouldn’t leave me alone until you woke up and ate. All I did was make your coffee and wake you up. So yes, Alfred,” you said in a stern tone, arms crossed.
“Okay, okay! Wow, someone is a little feisty,” Bruce said with a chuckle, sitting up and pulling the covers over his lap. You watched him move, looking at his features. His glossy eyes, his pink tinged skin, his messy hair- you loved it all. You loved seeing Bruce in such a raw state - not many people got to see him the way you did. He leaned over, picked up his cup, and took a sip of the warm coffee, taking notice of the second set of food. You simply watched him, lost in thought. He set his cup down, looking over to you with a raised eyebrow. “Well, are you just going to sit and watch me eat, or are you going to join me?”
You blushed, laughing off the mild embarrassment. “Uh… Yeah, I’ll… Yeah I’ll eat.” You stuttered, picking up your plate of food and setting it on your lap. You both ate in silence for a few minutes before Bruce decided to speak again.
“(Y/N), I, uh… I’m really sorry that… that you had to see me like… that. Last night. I just… I just thought that… I don’t know, I guess I thought I had it all figured out, and, well, I don’t. I realize that now. I was so cold to you. I… I was an idiot, and I’m sorry.” He stared at the ground while he spoke, fidgeting with his hands. You were actually pretty surprised by his behavior. You had grown so used to the confident, well-spoken Bruce, and only saw him this way when he was struggling, or in one of his episodes. You smiled softly, set your now empty plate beside you on the bed, and embraced Bruce in a tight hug. He hesitated, but responded to the affection. You supposed he wasn’t really used to showing real affection to other people. Well, showing real affection in ways that weren’t… sex… was foreign to him. “Thank you… for coming back. I wasn’t sure if you would have,” Bruce mumbled into your shoulder.
“For you? I’ll always come back,” you said low. He smiled in relief. He really missed having you around. You gave him a reassuring squeeze before getting up and collecting the dirty dishes. “You done?” You asked, gesturing toward his cup of coffee. He nodded and handed the cup to you, getting up and walking over to his closet. You averted your eyes to the ground as you headed for the door, unsure if you should really be looking at him in his boxers. You opened it, taking a deep breath. It’s not that you didn’t want to get a good look at him, but-
“Thanks for returning my tie, by the way. For a while, I thought I lost it. I’d be missing a part of my favorite suit.” He said with a smirk, looking through his closet.
“Yeah… yeah no problem, I guess. I, uh, I didn’t know it was your favorite.” You replied, looking at Bruce and being sure your eyes didn’t wander anywhere else. Thinking about it, you could’ve sworn that was actually the suit you got him for his birthday a couple years back. It wasn’t a big deal or anything, you just thought it was interesting and it would look good on him. And, well, again, you bought it for him. Okay, maybe to you, it was kind of a big deal.
“It’s one of the few suits I received from someone close to me. You have good taste,” he said nonchalantly as he pulled out a white dress shirt and black pants.
“Thanks,” you blushed. “I’ll, uh, be downstairs.” You heard Alfred coming up the stairs.
“Bruce?” He called, “Do you have a moment?”
“I’ll leave you two be,” you said, leaving the room and flashing Alfred a smile as you walked past and went downstairs to take care of the dishes.
_____
“So, you haven’t said a thing?”
“No, Alfred, why the hell would I do that?” You asked, exasperated.
“(Y/N), it’s been three months. There’s something there, there has been for years. You can’t deny that, and you know Bruce.” He protested, crossing his arms.
“Do I?”
“That was once, okay. One time. I swear he hasn’t even tried to see Selina, at all, after that one time.” He said, obviously tired of this argument. You rolled your eyes. “Do you really think he wants to see her again? After she broke his heart? And proceeded to avoid him? When he finally did find her, she acted like she didn’t know him. (Y/N), he let go of her, he had to. He had enough. He may be an idiot, but he isn’t that stupid.” He explained with wild hand gestures. You began to walk away as he spoke.
“Alfred, what good is it going to do?” You asked, sitting down in the living room and staring at the fireplace.
“You’re joking. (Y/N), do you not see the way he acts around you? He’s himself. He’s happy. Bruce needs you.” Alfred replied, pacing the room.
“What, so I tell him ‘hey I love you’ and it’s just happily ever after? You know that’s not gonna happen. I don’t want my heart broken, too. I’d rather just stay friends and deal with it.” You yelled, forgetting the fact that, well, Bruce is in the house as well. You blushed before bringing down your volume, and looked at the floor. “I’m so sick of getting my hopes up just to be broken, Al.”
“But you’ll never know what could happen if you don’t at least try.” He said condescendingly, sitting next to you. “I truly believe it will be worth your while, dear. Maybe tonight you can tell Bruce how you feel.”
And oh, that cinematic timing is annoying. It’s odd how your life decides to have the worst kind of coincidences. The door opened, and every muscle in your body tensed up.
“Feel about what?”
“I’ll leave you two be,” Alfred said, walking out with a smile.
Shit.
______
“(Y/N), I know our whole past, I was there. I’m sorry you felt the need to leave, and I know it was uncomfortable, but you came home, and I’m glad you did. These past three months… I don’t know what you think about them, but… but what does this… what does this have to do with anything?” Bruce asked with furrowed brows. He put his hand on your leg tightly, anticipating an answer. You shifted in your seat, turning to face him and look him in the eyes. You held his hands and took a deep breath.
“The point is… After all of this time I… I guess I…” You stuttered. Don’t think about it, (Y/N), You thought, Just say it. Get it out. “I love you.”
_____
(Part 4)
_____
(( Sooo this is kinda short? I feel like? And not like super eventful? But I’m actually pretty happy with it 😊 Idk I feel like it’s good to have some down time and slower parts. But it won’t stay that way, I promise. Good cliffhanger, am I right? Be ready for a part 4, it’s a comin’! ~ C ))
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Warnings: LONG, Swearing, Mentions of drinking, A little bit of fighting
Key: As always, (Y/N) is your name.
Author’s note: Soooo... Yeah, it’s long. Like really long, but I think it turned out for the better. If you came to the join.me last night, you’ll know I cut out the last part so there was a bit more of a cliffhanger just to help me lead into the next part. Hope you enjoy! P.S. You’re welcome for that last gif ;)
(Part 1)
Don’t Make Empty Promises: Part 2
You shifted again, rolling onto your other side in the small bed, glancing at the clock. 5:30 pm. Great. Just great.
It’s been almost a month now, staying at your parents’ place. When you came to their house at an ungodly hour with tears streaming down your face, they quickly welcomed you with open arms. They let you explain yourself in your own time and quickly accommodated for you. It was all perfect, and you felt loved, but for some reason you just couldn’t quite live normally. You had been in bed almost every day after the first week of being gone. You tried going out, watching movies, reading books, anything to occupy yourself, but after a of couple days, you went for a nosedive. You didn’t want to get out of bed, you didn’t want to talk, and you hardly ate. Your parents saw your harsh deterioration into your depressive state, and continuously expressed their concern. You knew they were right, but you couldn’t go back to the Bruce’s place. Not after disappearing without a word. Bruce would get mad at you all the time for having surprise meetings, saying that something could happen to you and he’d have no idea where to find you. If you were gone for an hour without any warning, you could trust there would be some glares and harsh lectures about checking in to ensure your safety. Leaving in the middle of the night for weeks would be a much larger scale of Bruce’s wrath, one you did not want to have to handle.
You rolled onto your back and stared up at the ceiling of the small, pale blue guest room you were staying in. Hand-painted white flowers traced the top of the wall, bleeding onto the ceiling in a delicate tangle of green and white. The scarlet colors of the setting sun had accented the white roses, baby’s breath, and forget-me-not’s that riddled the trim of the room, as well as adding a soft glow to the polished birch wood dresser and nightstand. You let your eyes travel along the tangled stems of the flowers, wandering through your thoughts as you had been for the past two weeks. It wasn’t like you were unfamiliar with your thoughts and feelings, it’s just that every time you delved back into them, you would find something new, like revisiting a favorite movie or rereading a book you were fond of. It was interesting enough to help you maintain your sanity whilst away from work.
The unfamiliar buzz of your phone beside your nightstand sent a jolt through both your mind and your body, seemingly spurring you back to life. You rolled back onto your side to pick up your phone, blowing off a little bit of the dust the screen had collected. You turned it on and winced from the bright light, but when you finally focused on the notification, you saw a text message from none other than Alfred.
‘We need you back here, (Y/N). Soon.’
You furrowed your brows for a moment, considering the possible motivations behind the urgent text message. Maybe he just missed you, after all, you were basically a small family, over at the manor. But maybe something happened to Bruce. You didn’t even want to get into the possibilities scattered about that one thought, and sent back a short reply.
‘What happened?’
You stared at the screen for a few moments, and as you were about to set it down, three flashing dots appeared as Alfred began to type a reply. You waited for the reply to send for a few minutes, until it had suddenly disappeared without a message to follow.
‘Alfred?’
Silence.
‘Come on I can’t do this right now. I’m not even going to THINK about going back until I have some sort of valid reason.’
You could tell he was trying to come up with the best way to word his reply, the long wait stretching on for a few more painful minutes.
‘She’s gone. He’s always either downstairs working out pent up anger or stuck in his office drinking. At this rate, he’s going to empty out the wine cellar. He’s losing it, and I can’t console him. Please, (Y/N), hurry. I don’t want him making any rash decisions.’
You read the words over and over, hearing Alfred’s voice through the screen. You could hear his words, but it wasn’t quite registering. Sure, Bruce would have some low points, but he had never become so distraught that Alfred could become worried about… “Rash decisions.”
For the first time in days, you hopped out of bed and took a much-needed shower. You tried to restrain your mind from wondering too far off, but at this point it was hard to control. What if he had another dip in his depression? Was he taking care of himself? Was he hurting anyone? Would he... consider... committing suici-?
No, no you couldn’t worry about all of that. Not now. Alfred needed you back, and somehow you would convince yourself to do so. With a strong sense of determination, you got back on task. You finished showering, got dressed, and packed most of your things within an hour.
“(Y/N)? Is everything alright? You’re making an awful lot of racket” Your mother called from the kitchen.
“Yeah, yeah I’m alright.” You took a deep breath. “Uh, mom?” You called back, trying your best to sound casual.
“Yeah, honey?” She replied, walking to your room and leaning on your doorway as to avoid shouting.
“I think I’m, uh, gonna head back to the manor.” You mumbled almost inaudibly. You kept your eyes low, feeling somewhat uneasy as you began to question whether or not this was actually a good idea.
“Are you sure?” She asked, bowing her head to level with your eyes as you continued to pack your things. You took a deep breath again.
“Yeah… Yeah, I’m sure. Alfred needs some company, and I need to get back to work. It’s for the best.” You managed, working a casual tone back into your voice. Your mom couldn’t tell, but you were trying to convince yourself more than anyone that you should go back.
“Alright, well, I guess I shouldn’t stop ya. If you need anything, my house will always be open to you.” She said with a small, loving smile.
“Thanks, mom. I appreciate it.” You smiled back, reaching over to give her a hug. She returned it briefly before helping you get ready to return. Within the next half an hour, you finished packing your things, and finally enjoyed a peaceful dinner with your parents. You gave your parents sweet hugs and exchanged ‘goodbye’s and ‘I love you’s, then took your time loading your things into Bruce’s car. As you sat in the driver’s seat, the bittersweet smell of Bruce’s cologne met your senses once again. You pulled out Bruce’s black tie from your pocket and clutched it in your fist in attempt to calm your nerves. It was closest thing you had to Bruce, and you needed to believe he was okay. You kept it in your hand as you drove through Gotham and back into the manor. With shaking hands and a racing mind, you pulled into in the driveway of the Manor by 7:30 pm.
Sure, it was comforting to see your home again, but you were terrified of what Bruce might think or say. You didn’t want him to hate you. Alfred said that he needed you. Hopefully Al was right. Hopefully Bruce needed you. You could tell yourself that a million times and you still probably wouldn’t have been convinced, but you carried on anyway.
You shoved the tie back into your pocket and got out of the car, hanging the duffel bag over your left shoulder. You weren’t sure if you were truly ready, but the more you let your thoughts get to you, the harder this would become. You took a deep breath in as you walked up to the door, and after standing for a few moments, you gave it a quiet rap. Within seconds, Alfred opened the door and stood in front of you with a warm smile. You exhaled at last as soon as you saw his face, some of your anxiety fading in light of the familiar face.
“(Y/N)! Finally, I was worried you wouldn’t come for another couple of days,” He greeted in relief.
“I told you I would be back soon, didn’t I?” You replied with a smile, stepping into the manor for the first time in what felt like years. Alfred took your coat and bag, as he was accustomed to, and shook his head softly.
“I’m not sure what your definition of soon is, my dear, but I wonder if you didn’t return soon enough.” Alfred said solemnly. The mood changed drastically as your smile faded and your shoulders slouched, worry taking over a majority of your features.
“Is he okay? What all happened, anyway?” You asked eagerly, following Alfred as the two of you walked towards Bruce’s office.
“I’m still not quite sure. He and Selina had some sort of falling out, and while Bruce cared for her, I’m not sure if she felt the same. She told him she hadn’t, anyway. I wonder if he just got too close for her comfort... but, that’s not my place to say.” He explained while guiding you to the oak doors at the end of the hall.
“Is he okay, though?” You asked again, trying to catch Alfred’s eyes as he stared at the golden handles of the doors. He let out a deep sigh and set his hand on the handle closest to him.
“You’re going to want to take your time when speaking with him, he’s a bit… uh... Unstable. Don’t push too far, okay? I’m not sure what would happen.”
“Alfred, is he okay?” You asked once more, raising your voice a bit and furrowing your brows as worry continued to grow in the pit of your stomach.
“You can be the judge of that.” Alfred mumbled. He spotted the black tie hanging out of your pocket and carefully pulled it out, . You flashed him a small smile with a nod. He returned the smile before slowly opening the doors.
You cautiously stepped into the room, slowly closing the door as Alfred walked away, and took another tentative step towards the hunched over figure in the dimly-lit room.
“Bruce?” You asked meekly, your voice almost catching in your throat from nerves. You had been in his office plenty of times, and it was a beautiful room. It contained dark oak shelves along two walls that were filled with books, a marble chess set placed on a table in the corner, and a grandiose desk that sat in the back of the room by the large window, accented with an antique lamp that had been passed down his family for decades. Despite the furniture staying the same, the normal atmosphere of the fine office had been flipped drastically. Rather than the usual smell of polished wood dancing with a hint of Bruce’s cologne in the air, the harsh smell of whiskey and wine overthrew the room while the old lamp struggled to light the entirety of the office. Shadows were strewn about the floor, creeping towards the door, giving off an unsettling and eerie feeling.
“Bruce?” You called again, raising your voice ever so slightly to a soft yet worried tone as you approached the desk.
“Why did you come back?” The dark figure responded. You barely recognized the voice that came back to you. It was much raspier than you’ve ever heard, and sounded as if it was sore and overly strained as the words mingled together from the whiskey in his system.
“I wanted to see you… To make sure you were okay.” You answered in a tone just above a whisper, taking small steps to make your way closer to Bruce. He replied with the sound of glass hitting glass as he poured himself another cup of whiskey. He took a sip and lowered his head, keeping his eyes to the ground as you finally took one more step, leading you to stand in front of him. Just looking at him almost made you burst into tears.
His eyes were bloodshot and puffy while heavy dark circles and bags laid beneath them. He had grown a short beard from the lack of self-care, and his hair was a greasy mess that splayed in multiple directions. His lips were chapped and his hands were calloused, making his appearance rougher than usual. You’d never seen him so… broken.
You knelt onto the carpet and placed one of your hands on top of one of his, being careful to think your words through before speaking again. “I hope I didn’t come at a bad time, I just… I was worried. Alfred told me that Selina le-“
You jumped back and yelped as you were interrupted by an angry yell followed by the sound of shattering glass. Your eyes widened as you stood and took a step back, staring at Bruce. He was breathing heavily, staring down at the shattered glass strewn about the carpet that had now been soaked in bitter whiskey. You lifted your hand to your mouth in shock, feeling speechless. You slowly knelt down to pick up the glass shards when he finally spoke, breaking the tense silence.
“I loved her, you know. I was sure that I did. Whenever I saw her I felt like I needed her. She even acted like she cared about me.” He said softly, his eyes finally meeting yours. You tried to maintain eye contact, but you didn’t want him to see the tears brimming your eyes. You nodded and leaned over, carefully picking up a couple of large shards of glass and placing them in your lap. “I thought that’s what love was, wanting someone who cares about you. But…” His voice faltered as he brushed his hand through his hair. “But I thought she wanted me. If that’s what love is, how could she say she didn’t love me?” He whispered, his voice beginning to shake. Each word was another dagger to your heart, another wave of pain in your chest. He thought he loved Selina, and even with you here, he couldn’t stop talking about her. The pain started to feel unbearable. That wasn’t love. You loved Bruce, not her. You huffed and wiped away the tears falling from your cheeks before looking up at him with the slightest glare.
“If you did so much thinking, maybe you’d consider the idea that love is more than what you want.” You said in a cold tone, raising in slightly volume with every word, and continuing in a voice that bordered a yell. “Have you ever thought that maybe loving someone isn’t just about lust? What if it’s about caring for someone, putting their needs before yours? What if there are people who actually love you? But no, you ignore them and push them away because you want sex. You couldn’t think about anything or anyone else! And it fucking hurts!” You spat out, picking up another piece of glass and throwing the small pile of shards you obtained into the trash bin beside you with force created by sheer anger and pain. You knew that your sudden outbreak didn’t help the situation, but it just... spilled out. It was too late to go back now, anyway. You crossed that bridge, and now you had to deal with the consequences. You took another deep breath and furiously wiped more tears away while Bruce got to his feet.
“Dammit, (Y/N)! Do you think I didn’t consider that? How the hell do you think that makes me feel, knowing she never actually cared?! THAT fucking hurts!!” He shouted, turning around and running his hands through his hair. Your mind frantically searched for a defense to have ready as your adrenaline began to course through you, but his next breath was followed by a quiet sob rather than more yelling. “What am I supposed to do now?” He whispered, desperately trying to compose himself. In moments, he fell to his knees on the floor as sobs racked his body.
You had never seen him like this. Sure, Bruce had his small break downs and would yell a few times in his low points, but never to this extent. You now not only understood Alfred’s worry, but you felt it, and on a much larger scale. Speechless, you walked over to him and sat in front of him, wrapping an arm around his waist and laying his head on your shoulder. The two of you sat there, hardly moving, as you both cried for your own reasons. Your tears soaked into his shirt, and his into yours. As hurt as you were, you hated seeing Bruce in pain. He wasn’t very emotional, so seeing him sob in your arms was heartbreaking. After about 20 minutes, you rested your head against his and whispered, breaking the painful silence.
“I’m not real sure what you’re supposed to do now, but… I’d focus on the people that do care about you. Alfred’s been here for you through everything, and I’m here now. It’s okay to reach out to us.” You articulated each word slowly as if your tongue was tiptoeing through the glass on the floor, letting it all fill the thick silence. “Are you going to be okay, Bruce?” You mumbled into his hair, “Is there anything I can do to help?” You asked, kissing the top of his head softly. He sighed, relaxing against you as he shook his head.
“I’m alright.” He mumbled, shifting a bit before standing up.
“Bruce” You tested, standing up with him to look him in the eyes.
“I promise, I’m gonna be okay.” He said taking your hand as a way of reassuring you. You weren’t sure what to say, and allowed another moment of silence to pass as the tension began to fall.
“Don’t make empty promises.” You told him, a small smile playing at your lips as you squeezed his hand, hoping he would catch your reference. Bruce managed a small smile in return as he looked at the ground, shaking his head again. He knew you got that from Alfred.
“You know me too well,” he said as he passed you, picking up another few shards of glass and tossing them in the trash bin. You helped him clean up a majority of the pieces before the two of you stood once again, facing one another.
“I… I think you should get some sleep. You need it.” You said, resting a hand on his shoulder.
“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea.” Bruce replied, flashing you another smile before heading for the door. He opened the latch, pausing for a moment, allowing you to seize the opportunity.
“Goodnight, Bruce. Sleep well,” You called out with a smile. He stopped, turning to face you, and returned a tried, weary smile. This time, though, he looked at you... differently. Rather than simply eye contact, it felt more like a gaze, almost as if your eyes were as wondrous as the stars in the sky. Almost as if he saw you in a different way, now.
“Goodnight, (Y/N),” he called back softly before walking out of the room, closing the door. Maybe things were going to be okay.
_____
The next morning, you woke up a little after Alfred had arrived at the manor, and joined him in the kitchen while he made breakfast. The sun trickled through the curtains and sparkled in the room while you sipped a warm cup of coffee, talking with Alfred. It was nice to adjust back to your normal routine so quickly, you felt like you were finally home again.
“He’s even sleeping in his own bed! I knew you would be the antidote.” Alfred finished his ramble happily as he cooked eggs and bacon.
“I’m just glad it went okay. I was worried a few times that I was done for, or he would just walk away, but I guess we managed.” You said cheerfully, taking another sip of your coffee.
“Speaking of, can you go wake him up?” Alfred asked with a meek smile, turning around with two plates of food.
“But, you said it yourself, he’s finally sleeping normally! I don’t want to wake him up, that’d be mean.” You protested with a slight frown.
“Well, I don’t want his breakfast getting cold, it can’t stay fresh forever. He doesn’t even have anything to do today, he can sleep all day if necessary,” Alfred said, setting the plates on the table. “Besides, from what you told me when you left, you could really use this opportunity. Maybe even tell him how you really feel,” He commented with a smirk playing at his lips.
“No way, I couldn’t. Not so soon. Plus, I’m not even sure how he’d take it. We’ve been nothing more than friends for the past, what, 20 some years?” You rambled, trying to talk yourself out of even considering it.
“Hey, I was just pointing out the fact that you have a chance.” He replied with a shrug.
“Thanks Alfred, but I’d rather not add to the emotional roller coaster.” You said sarcastically, folding your arms over your chest.
“Alright, then I would advise being careful as to not let it slip out,” he mumbled audibly, his mischievous grin growing as your eyes widened. Of course he wouldn’t drop that slip up. You had a feeling he wouldn’t for a while- especially if he wanted you to do something about your feelings. You sighed and looked down at the steaming plates of food.
“Can I bring it up to him?” You asked, finally giving in to his first offer. He rolled his eyes and sighed, his shoulders slouching as his confident smile softened.
“Alright,” he said, turning around to prepare his own plate. He turned back around only to see you already walking away, both servings of breakfast on a tray in your hands. “Just bring the dishes down when you’re done.” He called after you as you started up the stairway. “Oh, a-and don’t spill!” He shouted nervously as he saw the coffee mugs precariously set on the trays as you climbed up the stairs. You responded with a small laugh, flashing Alfred an over exaggerated smile when you reached the top of the stairway. He dramatically huffed and sat down on the table, shaking his head with a smile. It was good to have you back.
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(Part 3)
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(( Hey, the cliffhanger could’ve been worse, alright? I have no clue when the next part will be up, as finals are coming up for me, but I’ll do my best! Love y’all, thanks for reading and supporting this series! Definitely one of my favorites to write! And don’t worry, this shouldn’t be any longer than 5 parts, depending on how far you guys want me to go with it. ~ C ))
