Gotham Imagines and One Shots

Bed of Roses - Oswald x Reader

Oswald looked around the bedroom. Everything was in place, now he just had to wait for (Y/n) to come home. The woman without which, he felt that none of this would have been possible.

Oswald had first met (Y/n) when she had been hired by Fish to work at the nightclub. The beautiful woman seeming to be able to turn her hand to anything. As one night she would be behind the bar serving the drinks, and then the next she would be a sultry siren on the stage singing her heart out for the patrons. Oswald sure that he was the only one that truly listened to the beautiful words that came from the songstress' lips. Positive that each and every syllable that she uttered, was meant only for him.

Oswald had to admit that he wasn't the most knowledgeable man when it came to the fairer sex. That he wasn't what anyone would necessarily consider charming or charismatic. Yet (Y/n) always managed to make him feel that he was those things. Always seemed to be able to make him feel a little braver, a little stronger. To give him a confidence that he never knew that he had. And she could do all that with just a simple smile.

He could still remember her turning around and smiling broadly at him as he had approached, when Fish had introduced them. He could remember the feel of her warm hand in his as they stood there in Fish's office. Oswald sure that he had turned the brightest shade of red as she told him that it was a pleasure to meet him. The sparkle of her eyes making him feel as though fireworks were exploding in his stomach. Her soft, gentle smile making him believe that anything was possible.

Oswald could also remember how he would watch her from the shadows as she worked. Finding himself fearing that if he even so much as blinked, the vision of perfection would vanish, and he would lose all hope. For she seemed to be the only one that didn't see him as pathetic, subservient and somewhat of a sycophantic toady. That she knew, in the truth, that he was doing what he had to do. Biding his time until he could obtain the power that he so desired, and rightfully deserved.

Then one night, as the rain outside lashed the dark streets of the Metropolis. (Y/n) had asked him how he was getting back home. Laughing slightly at the idea of him trying to travel anywhere in that weather with little more than an umbrella to keep him dry. He could recall her offering him a ride through the grime dangerous streets. And how she had smiled happily when he accepted. Oswald only doing so once she had assured him that she was sure that she was going his way anyway.

He could vividly see in his mind's eye, how much he had enjoyed talking to her as they wound their way through the maze of streets. Oswald laughing to himself as he remembered how he had "accidentally" told her to go down a few wrong streets, just so that he could stay in the car a little longer and listen to the beautiful sound of her laughter fill the car, as he had tried to come up with some jokes. Then, how he had confessed his true plans for his future. (Y/n) telling him that she believed that he could do it. That he could do whatever he set his mind to.

But what he remembered most, was that when they had finally got to his home, that (Y/n) had asked if she could actually turn the car around so that she could take him for coffee. An invitation that Oswald had happily accepted, despite the fact that he couldn't believe that he, of all people, would be lucky enough to be asked out by such an exquisite, and intelligent woman. And all that was why Oswald found himself scrutinising the bedroom in the mansion he now called home. A mansion that was their home. A home that was filled with love and warmth that Oswald never thought he would know.

From that car ride, he and (Y/n) had seemed to be attached at the hip, and now, all this time later, Oswald wanted to show (Y/n) how much he appreciated everything she had done for him. How much he appreciated her love.

Today was their anniversary. An anniversary that celebrated happiness that Oswald had spent so long believing was only meant for others. And he was determined to make this a night that (Y/n) would never forget. With one last check, Oswald turned out the lights in the room and crept to his hiding place. The crime lord knowing that (Y/n) would be home soon, and that he couldn't wait.

                                                    >>---------------------------------<<

(Y/n) dug around in her pocket, bringing out her keys and unlocking the door. She couldn't wait to see her Oswald, it had been a long day at work, and all she wanted to do was curl up on the sofa with the man she loved, and fall asleep in his arms as they told on another about their day. His fingers combing gently through her hair as she drifted off.

Pushing open the door she was surprised to see that every light in the mansion was off. Normally the home would be bright, and Oswald would be busy directing Butch and the others with what he needed doing. Or in some meeting that he would call an instant halt to as he saw her face. So, to be greeted by darkness was not something she was used to.

"Ossie sweety, are you here?" (Y/n) called out as she flicked on the lights, her eyes darting around the seemingly empty home as she shut the door behind her.

"Oswald." She called out again, as she took of her coat, throwing it over the chair that sat next to the door. Making her way further into the mansion.

As she moved into the magnificent sitting room, she saw that the large blanket and pillows that she and Oswald would use to snuggle up together on the sofa, when no one else was around, had been freshly laundered and laid out neatly with a note lying on top of them. Picking up the piece of paper that seemed to have been ripped out of one of Oswald's little pocketbooks, she read the puzzling message written in her loves hand.

"Go to the fridge." The note told her, (Y/n)'s eyebrows furrowing in confusion as she moved to do as she had been informed.

Entering the kitchen, (Y/n) slowly opened the fridge, her eyes widening as they fell on the bottle of champagne that sat proudly on the shelf with a large red bow around its neck, and two glasses waiting next to it.

"Ossie, baby. Where are you?" (Y/n) questioned, chuckling slightly as she took the next note that read. "Look in the oven."

Laughing, (Y/n) shook her head, and walked over to the oven, as she finally realised that the room was filled with the wonderful odour of a home cooked meal.

As she opened the oven door, there sat two plates of her favourite food, with another note that informed her to go to the desk in the room she used as an office.

With a skip in her step, her long day at work forgotten, (Y/n) entered the dark room that was lit by a single tiny candle. Turning the light on, (Y/n) saw that the candle was sitting in a small red cupcake, a cupcake that had a single word written on it in pristine white icing, a word that simply said, "Bedroom".

Blowing out the candle, (Y/n) rushed up the stairs to their room, taking in a deep breath as she threw open the door and saw that their bed was scattered with red rose petals. The smell of the blooms filling her senses and making her sigh happily.

"Thank you." A familiar voice said from behind her, (Y/n) turning on her heels to find the blushing man that she loved.

"Thank you for what?" (Y/n) asked, still not believing that Oswald had done all this just for her.

"Thank for giving me the best years of my life. Thank you for believing in me. For making every day better, for making my world a better place. For standing by my side no matter what I have done. But most of all, thank you for loving me." Oswald said, watching the happy tears roll down (Y/n)'s cheeks as she rushed into his waiting arms and held him tight.

"It's me that should be thanking you Ossie, you didn't need to do all this, but the fact that you have, makes me realise all the more just how special you are, and how lucky I am to have you. Happy Anniversary, sweetie." (Y/n) said, as her lips crashed into his.

"Do you think that dinner can wait?" (Y/n) asked, as she pulled away from Oswald's lips.

"Why?" A confused Oswald asked, as he saw the mischievous glint in (Y/n)'s eyes.

"Well, that bed of roses is calling our names, and who am I to say no to a rose?" (Y/n) chuckled, as Oswald smiled broadly, willingly following (Y/n) to the bed. The once simple umbrella-man looking forward to what the rest of the night and the rest of their lives would bring.