#farrell!penguin

Oswald is pretty clear with his intentions. If he wants it, regardless of the so-called value, he’s going to get it somehow and someway. That comes with the same price as you.

Impression is always his go-to. With that and his high interest, these two combined can become quite a mess. He tries greatly to reel you in with his wooing—using every romantic strategy he knows from his heart to get your attention. He goes all the way to town, like gifting you very expensive items to hint that he can care for you. Giving you a few thousand when dropping you off at your apartment, or even offering to pay for it.

His favorite thing is taking you out to nice restaurants in Gotham, showing you off with your gleaming outfits that he’s gifted you himself. He’s a known gentleman, always putting your necklaces or rings on–even earrings if you want him to. Everything you could want is gifted from him.

Apologetically pushy. From the moment he’s met you, he's always wanted to be in your personal space. Calling you constantly. Always finding excuses to visit your apartment, even at late nights, showing up with takeout and shoving himself through the door before you can fully open it; that glimmering smirk of his, as he rambles and calls you his sweet doll.

Oz doesn’t mean too, truly, but he’s gotta know every detail in your life—admiring those picture frames you have, to the specific color you use, maybe makeup or even your own bedroom which you have decorated to express what you like. Maybe, if he finds a diary, if he is lucky enough, he knows damn well it’s coming with him. He can always say he found it. Pretended to never read it, right?

Your parents will most definitely approve of him. It’s a dream come true, a gentleman in this century? What a lucky dream. Though, if your relationship isn’t as strong as between him and his ma, he’s always willing to share her with you. Share sweet memories, even.

With each piece of newfound information with you, he really begins to get nosy with you. He doesn’t mean to press his nose into where it doesn’t belong, but he has to know what you are doing. To know what restaurant you are at with some friends, what times you get home, who you were hanging out with, and when you left. If you hide something from him, he will know about it.

A worry freak. If you don’t message him back within a few hours, he begins to panic. Watches your conversations like a hawk, waiting for the bubble to rise. If he doesn’t see it, he rushes to your apartment like a mad man. When all is good, and you are fine, he gets irritated—why can’t you just message him back with ‘i love you too’?

He makes it clear that he is obsessed with you—his hands keep near you like second skin. If you decide to go with him to the club, or to a nice place where there are a lot of people, he’d love for you to sit on his lap. A hand on your waist, squeezing every once a while. His pinky accidentally swiping over your thigh. His lips chasing down your shoulders, kissing your revealed skin.

I had such fun writing this. Please enjoy it as much as I did! Requests are open so please come and send em in •‿• !!

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You trembled slightly, your back pressed against the cold, damp wall, knees drawn up as you stared at the man standing before you. Oswald Cobblepot—The Penguin. His name carried weight in Gotham’s underworld, but now, seeing him up close, the true menace behind his twisted smile was palpable. His scarred face, hardened by years of brutality, twisted into a smirk as he studied you. He waddled closer, his gait uneven but deliberate, each step resonating with the sickening realization that this man was capable of anything.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Oswald’s gravelly voice cut through the silence, laced with dark amusement. His eyes glinted as they traveled down your trembling form, noting your fear, savoring it. "Carmine Falcone's little girl. What a stroke of bad luck, huh?" He chuckled, but there was no warmth in the sound, only cold, sharp edges.

Your heart raced, the name of your father—the once untouchable crime lord of Gotham—now a curse. Ever since Falcone’s downfall, the power vacuum had turned the city into a battlefield, and you were caught in the crossfire. Oswald was determined to rise to the top, and being Falcone’s daughter put you directly in his path.

"Please," you whispered, your voice barely audible, but you knew pleading wouldn’t get you far. Not with him. "I didn’t do anything."

Oswald crouched down in front of you, his dark eyes never leaving yours. His hand reached out, a gloved finger trailing along your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine. "Oh, sweetheart, I know you didn’t. But you see, this isn’t about what you’ve done." His voice was low, dangerously soft. "It’s about who you are. Carmine’s precious daughter. That alone makes you valuable. And I always knew one day I’d get my hands on something he cared about."

You swallowed hard, your pulse quickening as his finger slid down your neck, a sickening sensation crawling over your skin. "You don’t have to do this," you breathed, trying to keep your voice steady, but the tremble was undeniable.

Oswald laughed softly, his breath warm against your ear as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your skin as he whispered, "Oh, but I do. You see, in this city, people only remember the strong, the ruthless. I’m going to show Gotham that the Penguin doesn’t just take what he wants—he takes everything."

Your breath hitched as his hand moved lower, his fingers grazing your collarbone before sliding down to the neckline of your dress. The darkness in his gaze deepened, and you felt a wave of panic wash over you. He was playing with you, relishing your fear, feeding off the power he held over you.

"Look at you," he murmured, his voice dripping with twisted admiration. "Scared, trembling… but still so fucking beautiful. It’s almost a shame, really." His thumb brushed over the curve of your breast, and you flinched, unable to stop the tears from welling in your eyes.

Oswald grinned, clearly pleased with your reaction. "Your father… he always had everything handed to him. Power, respect, fear… women. But me? I had to earn it. Crawl through the dirt, claw my way to the top. And now, I get to enjoy the spoils."

His hand tightened on your thigh, fingers digging into your skin as he leaned in, his breath hot against your neck. "I bet Carmine never thought it would come to this, did he? His little girl, all alone with the Penguin." He chuckled darkly, his teeth grazing your earlobe, sending a jolt of fear through your body.

You squeezed your eyes shut, desperately trying to block out the sensation, but Oswald wasn’t going to let you forget. "Oh no, don’t close your eyes, sweetheart," he growled, his hand moving higher up your leg. "I want you to see who has the power now."

You whimpered softly, your body trembling uncontrollably, but you forced your eyes open, meeting his dark, predatory gaze. "Good girl," he purred, his hand inching higher, teasing the hem of your dress. "Now, let’s see just how much power I can take from you."