Victor Zsasz X Reader

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P/N=pet's name 

P/T=pet type (example, dog, cat, goldfish etc.)

H/C=hair colour                 

S/C=skin colour

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You, Carmine Falcone's daughter, have fallen in love.

And when I say 'fall', I don't mean you daintily dipped you foot into the shallow end of the pool, I mean that you full-on bellyflopped off the diving board into the deep, icy cold waters of romance.

Imagine, falling for the most renowned of your father's subordinates; Victor Zsasz.

Imagine, him actually loving you back.

~~~~

You stare at the body of your beloved P/N. 

Picking up the shovel, you start to push earth over the lifeless carcass. Crying, you stop and recite one of your favourite poems,

Don't cry for me,

I'm not gone.

My soul is at rest,

my heart lives on.

Light a candle

for me to see

and hold on to 

my memory,

but save your tears

for I'm still here,

by your side

through the years.

- Christy Ann Martine

Sobbing, you bury your head in your arms and sit against a tree by the grave. Soft footfalls fill the silence, and you dash away the tears on your cheeks. 

After all, it's silly for a girl my age to cry over a... Aw, screw it, I can cry all I want!

Lifting your head indignantly, you come face to face with a wide-eyed, bald dude. He wears a black suit, which makes him look so deathly pale, it's as if he's never seen the sun. 

Looking at the cloudy sky, you nod. It's possible that he's never been exposed to it, especially here in Gotham.

The man clears his throat hesitantly, drawing you back to reality.

"Wha?" You ask, your sadness momentarily forgotten. 

"Why are you crying?" He repeats. You notice that his voice sounds kind of odd, but you can't explain why.

"My P/T died. I, um, I'm just burying (her or him). P/N has been with me a long time, and it's hard to say goodbye after all the years we'd been together."

"Oh."

"..."

"Why are you here exactly? Father doesn't like trespassers."

"Father? You mean Don Falcone?" He chuckles.

"Uh, yeah," you say sarcastically, "This is his property and I'm his daughter... Wait, how do you know him?"

"I work for the Don. My name is Victor Zsasz, and I suppose you are miss Y/N. Pleased to meet you."

Relaxing a little, you remember that you haven't finished covering the grave, so you pick up the shovel and finish. All the while, Zsasz watched your every move. 

"I need to get something from the city. Uh, bye." You start walking away, and he follows you.

"What are you doing?!"

"Don Falcone instructed me to keep you safe, and I intend to do my job."

"Hmph, I can take care of myself! I don't need a babysitter!"

"I assure you that I am no babysitter."

"C'mon, I'm only going to a flower shop!" 

"I'm going with you."

Sighing heavily you reply, "fine," and get in the driver side of the vehicle.

He gets in and soon you're at the best flower shop in Gotham. Picking out a lovely bouquet you pay for it, noticing Zsasz leaning against the doorway, eyes wide and alert. You in turn roll your eyes, but shattering glass stops you short. 

The large front window is broken and the glass is splayed everywhere. You duck as soon as you register what happened. Someone shot the window! 

Zsasz smiles, reaches under his coat and snatches his two handguns. He looks as if he's been waiting for something this exciting to happen all day. 

In light of this danger, he looks alive. 

Somehow you find yourself smiling as well, as you watch Victor run after the shooter, wicked grin on his face.

You scooch over to a comfy position underneath a shelf of flowers, and grab a pair of shears, just in case.

You hear a loud gunshot, presumably Victor killing the gunner, and slowly stand. A cold needle pierces your neck, and instinctively, you gab the sharp weapon behind you.

A sickening sloosh sound startles you. Turning around, you see a tall man bleeding profusely from a wound on his stomach, and the room starts spinning, probably from the drug he injected you with. 

You find yourself running out of the store, confused. The world is dancing around you; a mad, wild dance. 

"Y/N, you okay?" A voice zigzags in your head. Blinking, you stagger in the direction of the sound. 

The bald guy swoops you into his arms, bridal style. Gazing into you, he lifts you effortlessly. 

"We should get you home. Don Falcone must be worrying." 

~~~

You head is all cleared up now, the drug having worn off by now. And you just discovered a weird feeling in your chest. Some say it's called love. 

~~Victor's POV~~

I stare unblinking at Y/N. She looks so perfect, her H/C hair all tangled and her S/C skin so beautiful and soft. I noticed the softness when I carried her to and from the car.

And her ability to fend for herself was proved when she stabbed that guy, ultimately killing him, and she escaped without barely a scratch. That is so hot.

Wait! What am I thinking?! She's the Don's daughter; Falcone would never allow it.

I shake my head in slow anger. 

Then, I walk steadily to give my report to Falcone.

~Your POV~

You noticed him staring at you, and you are emboldened. 

"Victor!" You yell after him. He turns and looks at you with those lizard-like eyes. 

"We should, um, get together sometime and you could teach me some selfdefense moves... Or something. If you'd like."

A moment of hushed silence echoes 'round the room, the emptiness broken by the blood rushing to your head.

"Yes, I'd like that." is his reply, and you swear that you can see a flicker of a nervous smile. 




TO BE CONTINUED...

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