200 Multifandom One Shots

Dear Miss Wayne - Gotham - Alfred x Reader

Alfred made his way to the library of Wayne Manor. He had made sure that Bruce was settled in his room, now his last job for the evening was to check on Thomas' younger sister, (Y/n). The younger of the two Wayne siblings, choosing to stay and help Alfred look after Bruce after the funeral.

Quietly, he pushed his way through the door. The usually quiet and calm butler feeling his heart beat faster as he saw (Y/n) sit by the fire. A large book on her lap as she stared into the dancing flames. He would, could never admit it, but he had had feelings for (Y/n) for some time. The younger woman often coming to stay with her brother and Martha, since he had begun to work for the Wayne family.

Alfred always found that she had a knack of making him smile, despite himself. And when her brother was away from the manor, (Y/n) would often join him in the kitchen for a cup of Earl Grey tea. Always telling the butler that no one could make tea quite like he could. The pair talking about his past life in the Special Air Service, or anything else, until he got a call for his assistance. The two leaving the kitchen together but always taking different paths. Alfred off to do his duties, and (Y/n) usually off to see what little Bruce was up to.

Some time ago, Alfred had written (Y/n) a letter. A letter that told her all about how he felt for her. How he loved her despite the fact that he was sure that they would never be able to be together. That he would give anything to take her into his arms, even just once, and kiss her. He had never delivered it of course, how could he? She was a Wayne. His employers much loved little sister. The former soldier sure that Thomas, no matter how well he treated him, would never agree to Alfred taking his sister's hand.

Alfred had of course kept the letter. The small piece of paper folded neatly and placed in his waistcoat pocket. A pocket that his fingers would instantly find their way to, whenever he so much as thought about (Y/n). The page of paper, now a little tattered and torn. Creased and dogeared from how many times he had taken it out and read it. Not that he needed to read it. He knew it word for word. Sometimes even seeing it in his sleep. Yet he would never part with it. And even though he knew that she would never read it, he still hoped that one day, she would.

"You know, I find great solace in the written word. Whenever I feel stressed, upset, down, I pick up a book and lose myself in every line. Every paragraph. And when I do, nothing ever seems as bad. Perhaps that is why I have always loved books. There is something quite interesting about reading the thoughts, dreams, and memories of others. I have always believed that there is a touch of the divine in the written word. Always amazed by how mere squiggles on a page, can instil happiness, fear, pleasure, and hope in so many others. How they can help people to see that there are a million possibilities out there. Thousands of worlds and lives. And that it is only our bodies that are bound to the earth. The reach of our hearts and souls only limited by our own imaginations. And at this moment, I find I need my books more than ever." (Y/n) sighed as she closed the book and laid it on the small table next to her chair.

"Is Bruce alright?" (Y/n) continued, finally turning her attention from the fire, to the smartly dressed man that stood just in the doorway.

"Yes. Master Bruce is fine. I have just come to see if you need anything, before I retire for the evening, Miss Wayne." Alfred replied. The butler swallowing at the large lump that had suddenly formed in his throat as (Y/n) smiled at him.

"Yes Alfred, I would like something. Firstly, I would like you to stop calling me, Miss Wayne. I have asked you so many times to just call me (Y/n). And secondly, I would like you to pour two glasses of good scotch and come and join me. It has been so long since we have been able to sit down together. And I do so miss our conversations. That's if you would like to join me." (Y/n) told him. Doing her best to hold back the blush from her cheeks as Alfred nodded, and made his way over to where the decanters of liquor sat on the sideboard.