Gotham Imagines & Preferences (DISC.)

{Oswald Cobblepot Imagine}

𝙒𝙀 𝘼𝙇𝙇 𝙃𝘼𝙑𝙀 𝘼 𝙎𝙏𝙊𝙍𝙔

(M/N = Managers Name)

You clench your fists and begin thrusting your fists at the punching bag hanging in front of you. Your arms and hands move quickly, each blow becoming harder and harder with more and more force. You could feel a presence in the room, knowing exactly who it was, but continued punching the bag.

Your sister, Kristen, managed to irritate you so bad to the point where you had to punch something. Your solution was the gym, you always go to the gym when she makes you mad - it gives you a sense of freedom, a way to let everything go and bring out your anger without hurting anyone.

"The gym is closing now, Y/N," the manager speaks from behind you, watching intently as you punch the bag a few more times. He is one of your best friends, you two talk a lot when you're here. You almost come everyday to the gym, especially ever since Kristen stole the interest of one of your closest friends: Edward Nygma.

You nod, your chest moving up and down in heavy breaths. You walk over and lift a towel, using it to wipe the sweat from your body and forehead. Once you feel good enough you take your bag and begin to exit the gym. "Thank you, M/N!" You call out as you leave, placing your towel securely inside your bag as you headed down the sidewalk on your way back home. You really hoped Kristen would be working late tonight, you didn't want to deal with her attitude again. You sigh, relieved that the cold air was hitting your body as you grew exhausted spending hours in the gym. You decide to take a shortcut you sometimes take if you just want to be home, only this time you ran into a person you least expect.

"Help..." The man spits out, limping towards you with blood dripping from several cuts across his face and soaking his shirt from an awful stab wound in his side. "Me..."

You quickly move towards him, wrapping your arms around his body to help him walk and start moving in the direction of your home. You know what kind of man he is, but it is completely wrong in your mind to not help someone in dire need as he is.

You burst through your door, not caring to notice it was already unlocked. You lay him down on the couch and quickly run to the kitchen to find the proper materials to help him. Being friends with cops, doctors, and paramedics you catch on to what they do when someone is injured; turns out it was very helpful to you after all.

You do the job fast, but with precision and care. You didn't bother saying a word to him, just gave him the help he needed and allowed for him to rest a few hours on your couch. For the 'King of Gotham', he seems like such a nice man, one who just needs love and care. You sit on the chair beside the couch, keeping a close eye on him in case something happens while he rests. In a short amount of time, you manage to drift off into a deep slumber, no matter how much you tried to keep yourself awake.

----

You wake up to hearing movement in your kitchen, still half asleep until you notice that the man who was once laying on the couch was now gone. Your eyes shoot open, and you jump up from the couch to inspect the kitchen. You sigh in relief when you see him limping around to make himself some toast. "I could have gotten you something to eat, you should be resting," you say sternly as you walk over to the counter and grab smooth peanut butter from the cabinet above. You look at him as if asking for clarification, to which he nods and you take a butter knife to lather the peanut butter onto the well toasted bread.

"I didn't want to disturb you," he answers, leaning his back against the counter and grimacing in pain due to the deep injury in his side.

"You should be resting, Mr. Cobblepot," you respond with a shrug, leading him back into the living room and helping him sit down on the couch. You then hand him the plate of toast, grabbing the remote to turn the TV on for him to watch while he eats. 

The man smiles kindly, looking at her. "Please, call me Oswald," he says, lifting the toast and taking a bite of it.

"You may stay here however long you need, my sister won't be happy about it but who gives a fuck what she thinks right?" You say, laughing to yourself as you shake your head. You genuinely did not care for what Kristen would think of him staying here, regardless of the man you know him to be. You guess that it is just the caring part of you talking, but you also grew an interest for this man and what you can learn from him while he stays with you.

Oswald smiles, staring at you. "Thank you so much, you're too kind," he states.

"You're an injured man, at least in here you can be well taken care of until your wounds heal," you reply simply. "I'm also interested, what happened to you?" You ask curiously, leaning forward slightly.

Oswald's smile grows bigger. "We all have a story, Y/N," he says with a shrug.

"How do you know my name?" You ask, sitting up straight and cocking a brow.

"Like I said, we all have a story."