A little bit of everything Multi Fandom Imagines

Penguin and his Queen - Gotham Penguin x Reader

Warning: Angst, coarse language, use of guns.

Forgive me if anyone is OOC.

The Queen of Gotham had had enough; for over a week now she had seen neither hide nor hair of her husband, and today was the last straw. Once again, she had reached over her arm to snuggle into her husband's side, to hold him tight, and breath in his scent; but once again she found nothing but cold unwrinkled sheets. She shot up, sitting bolt upright in bed.

"Right Oswald Cobblepot, you asked for it!" She said out loud to herself. Jumping out of bed, she grabbed her dressing gown, and then threw open the doors to the bedroom.

"BUTCH!" She screamed out.

The large man shuddered, if the Queen was in a bad mood it meant someone was going to suffer. Butch, as well as anyone else that had half a brain feared the Queen. She was deadly, cold and intelligent, and she would kill just as easily as blinking and it would be with a smile on her face.

"BUTCH! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?!"

Butch took a deep breath hoping to god that he wasn't the target of her current wrath.

"I'm here Mrs. Cobblepot, how can I help you?" Butch tried to say calmly.

"DON'T YOU DARE CALL ME THAT SON OF A BITCHES NAME! WHERE THE FUCK IS HE? I WANT THAT BASTARDS HEAD ON A PLATE!"

Butch breathed a sigh of relief knowing that it wasn't his head on the chopping block.

"Do you mean the boss, Mrs. Cobb......... I mean (y/n)?"

"YES! I MEAN THAT WADDLING, UMBRELLA CARRYING PRICK. WHERE IS HE?"

Butch couldn't help but chuckle to himself at her description of Oswald, only she would be able to get away with such a thing.

"I think he's been at the club (y/n)."

Butch's eyes widened as he saw her face grow dark; her jaw was clenched tight and her hands balled up in fists so tight that her knuckles were turning white. Never before had he ever seen the Queen this angry; suddenly she took a deep breath, and an all too familiar eerie stoic look graced her features.

"So Butch, you are telling me that Oswald has been at his clubs all day and every night, not bothering to come home to his wife for over a week?"

Butch started to shake, this cool calm exterior was worse than an angry one, this normally meant someone was going to die.

"Yes, Mrs. Cobb....... sorry, (y/n)."

She looked deep into the big man's eyes.

"Which one of them is he screwing Butch?"

His breath hitched in his throat.

"I.........um, I don't ..........um."

"Butch please, tell me which one of the whore's he's screwing rather than me."

Butch was in shock, he saw something in her that he had never seen before, fear, vulnerability and pain. Before he knew it, her arms were around his waist and her head buried in his chest; he could feel her whole body shake, looking down at her, he realised that she was sobbing. Butch instinctively put his arm around her shoulder and brushed his fingers through her hair trying to calm her. Never before had he realised that Oswald was her one weakness, the chink in her armour.

"(Y/n), I don't know, I mean, I don't know if he is with one of those girls; but I do know that if he is than he's an idiot. Why risk losing the most beautiful woman in Gotham for one of those cheap sluts. Believe me (y/n), Oswald can't do any better than you." He cooed at the distraught woman.