gotham stories

it aint my fault ~ victor

The sweetness of red wine tasted nothing but bitter on your palate and you swallowed it with a unpleasant grimace. You glimpsed at the band on stage and sighed. Not even their pop music could take you out of this boredom you felt. Another sighed left your lungs when you browsed the people enjoying their time at The Sirens. How could criminals be so incredibly boring? Ever since the mafia was gone, along with Don Falcone and Don Maroni, you didn't enjoy your criminal life like you used to when working for Maroni. Hell, did you even have a criminal life anymore? Or anything at all to do, except for sitting here every single night, fishing for more clients? Or any client for that matter? The assassin business seemed to be dying out ever since everyone started to take care of their own killings. And now there were even these monsters running the streets, escaped from Strange's house of horrors. And sure, you could get payed for taking them in, but keeping your victims alive wasn't really your thing.

You sighed anew. Yes, you missed the old days for sure. The simpler life, when Falcone controlled the city and everyone knew their place. Not even Zsasz was around anymore to take care of your other, more craving desires. He just disappeared suddenly and you missed his rough endearments on you. The way he took what he wanted but always made sure you were left blissfully satisfied.

Damn! A muffled moan escaped your lips as you bit your lip and squeezed your thighs together when you felt that familiar ache settle between your legs, thinking about the things Victor used to do to you.

Oh God! Now was really not the time to get horny, you thought as you observed the people on the dance floor. There wasn't a single person in here that caught your attention, that made your heart flutter and your cunt quiver with need. But then your gaze fell upon the entrance door when another guest arrived and a smirk danced on your lips when the former king of Gotham entered the club.

You studied his appearance with appreciation as your gaze wandered his body. He looked different than before, when he was still the new mob boss. His raven hair was shorter but still in that pointy hairstyle and his suit seemed more well fitted around his slim body. Cobblepot looked smarter, older and more confident than ever before and you bit your lip when that ache in your cunt throbbed delightfully. Oh yes, you liked this newer Penguin that walked through the club with a smirk on his lips, looking like he owned the whole world.

He sat down in a dark corner of the club and to your surprise, he seemed to be there on his own. Usually Butch Gilzean accompanied him this days, but not tonight apparently. But that was only in your favour when the most wicked idea started to form in your mind.

"Can I get a glass of red wine, please?" you asked the bartender and she nodded with a smile and poured you one. You payed up and took the glass in one hand and your glass in the other. Slowly you sauntered passed the dance floor and made your way over the to the dark corner in which Cobblepot had taken a seat. His mind seemed to be elsewhere as he was staring into thin air but his gaze found its way to you when you approached him and there was a spark of recognition in his eyes. His blue green orbs then fell upon your curves in that short, black dress you were wearing and you made sure to sway your hips seductively as you walked. A victorious smirk danced on your lips when you noticed the dark fire igniting in his eyes.

"Hello Mr. Penguin. May I join you?" you asked but didn't wait for an answer before you sat down next to him and fluttered your eyes at him.

"Please, be my guest." he sneered and gripped his cane tightly, irritated by your attitude. Although, he was used to it. The two of you knew each other from way back when he nestled his way into Maroni's business and you were his assassin and later, when Oswald was the new boss in town, you frequently visited his club, seeing as you were Zsasz's lover. But Oswald hadn't seen you since everything fell apart and frankly, he wouldn't have cared less if he never did. That's what he was telling himself anyway. The slowly increasing bulge in his pants was another story completely, one he tried his best to ignore.