Chapter Text
As a hopeless romantic, you had wasted a lot of your time waiting on someone sweeping you off your feet. To the point where your friends often had a good laugh about your lack of experience, and how the experiences you had were all terrible. Pathetic men who didn’t deserve the time of day, but who managed to convince you that the affair was romantic enough that you could give yourself over to them.
And you’d been dragged to the Iceberg Lounge, an attempt by your friends to get you to give in to carnal urges instead of desperately seeking some classic novel inspired romantic relationship. Or as they had put it, “you needed to get laid.”
While they found their respective potential partners amid the myriad of strangers on the dancefloor, you leant against the bar, watching them have fun. If you were just a little bit less shy, you might have been able to push yourself into someone’s favours. But your inability to speak out, combined with your innocent face, soft cheeks and big eyes, make-up less since it was a skill you weren’t destined to master, this meant you were often left standing to the side.
Your eyes drifted to the other side of the room, searching for a blank space in the shadows to focus on, lest you make eye contact with someone and give them the wrong idea. But you were drawn to, and unintentionally settled on, a large man wearing an impeccable suit, watching over the club with a scrutinising stare. He oozed charm. And you recognised him, quickly placing him as Oswald Cobblepot, owner of the club, criminal, villain. Exactly the kind of man that would be the unlikely love interest in…No. Stop.
But you noticed he was staring back, and if you weren’t mistaken, looking you up and down. Perhaps he was acknowledging subtly that you didn’t look like you belonged. Everyone else was beautiful, glamorous, outgoing and flirty. As you wondered which of your flaws it was that set you apart though, he motioned with his hand, signalling a drink? Did you want one? You looked to your left and right before pointing at yourself, mouthing ‘me’ to just make sure, willing to embarrass yourself for clarity. He nodded slowly, starting to head towards you.
You turned around swiftly, knocking back the remainder of the drink you had ordered, trying to look at yourself inconspicuously in the mirror behind the bar, smoothing your dress at the front as you noticed he was coming up behind you. Turning, you felt your heart leap as you faced him.
“Oswald Cobblepot. And course I was talking about you, you see a nicer lookin’ dame here?”
He was so easy to talk to, completely charming, self-effacing enough that he was irresistibly endearing. Before you knew it you were two drinks down, an hour spent just talking to him. Without noticing, he had you on a stool beside him, leaning in, his hand on your knee, fingers teasing the skin as they trailed around softly.
“Listen, sweetheart. It’s too loud down here, I do my best work in a more…relaxed environment. What’s say we head up to my office?”
And you followed him. You didn’t even remember saying yes, although that was what you had intended to say. Desperately, completely, one hundred percent yes. It might not be a fairy-tale romance, but it did feel like you were being whisked away by a shining knight, but you needed to stop. This could just be a thing, a fluke, nothing might come of it, and that would be fine too.
Once in his office, you submitted to his charms again, sitting close by him on the sofa while he placed his palm on your thigh, letting it trail further up your leg before coming back down again to your knee, over and over again, inching a little bit higher each time he closed in on the hem of your dress. You were giggling more than you ever had, face blushing, subconsciously leaning forwards, into him, and exposing your cleavage, letting your fingers linger on his arm, licking your lips.
Despite the two of you being the only ones in the room, he still leant in to whisper in your ear.
“Wanna have some fun, sweetheart?”
“I’m already having fun, Mr. Cobblepot.”
“You’re easily pleased, huh?”
He let his lips find your neck, kissing deeper as you leant your head to the side, feeling hand find your hip, the other tracing the curve of your side before cupping your breast. His tongue, fast and firm, left your skin moist and tingling, teeth clenching into the skin as he sucked lightly. You knew there would be a mark, and you were excited at the prospect.
With your fingers tight on his shirt collar, you pulled him close, into you, desperate for him to take it further. And when his hands finally found their way back to your leg, you let your thighs separate slightly, indicating your willingness, your desperation for his touch. But there was a knock on his door. An interruption.
Oswald pulled back from you, an apologetic look in his eyes. You smoothed your dress and your hair, trying to cover where you thought the mark from his bite would be.
“Come in.”
“Sorry to disrupt you, Mr. Cobblepot, but there’s a uh…situation.”
“Ok, I’m coming, I’m coming.”
Standing from the sofa, he adjusted his jacket, shirt and bowtie before offering you a hand to pull you up beside him.
“I’m sorry to cut it short sweetheart, I gotta go deal with this. But there’s a notepad and pen on the desk. You be a good girl and leave your number.”
Waiting for him to leave before you moved, you headed over and put your name, number, and a small kiss on the paper before heading back down to the dancefloor, satisfied with the meet-cute, the romantic first touches, and the prospect of living out a steamy romance novel with Oswald Cobblepot.