#oswald cobb x black!reader

[ladylaviniya]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐧 & 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐧™ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐀 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐡é 𝐛𝐮𝐭- 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐬 𝐎𝐬𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐛𝐛 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲, 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐛𝐭, 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐧 𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬?

𝐎𝐬𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐛𝐛 𝐗 𝐅!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐃𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐃𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐄𝐚𝐭, 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐦 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐞, 𝐃𝐮𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐑𝟒𝐩𝐞, 𝐒𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐂𝐨𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐃𝐫𝐮𝐠 𝐔𝐬𝐞, 𝐊𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠/𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐁𝐃𝐒𝐌 𝐃𝐲𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐬, 𝐇𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐃𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐕𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐆𝐮𝐧 𝐕𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬, 𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐭-𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝟏 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐧, 𝐎𝐬𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐭, 𝐀𝐠𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐩 (𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐠𝐞!!)

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐅𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐧 & 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐧™ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

𝟏𝟖+ 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍. 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐕𝐄. 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

author notes 𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆ ˚❆.ᐟ

𖥔 If you are under the age of 18, I will politely ask you do not select any of the links and leave this blog, this is not age appropriate content nor is this safe kink.

𖥔I would like to express the knowledge that I do not approve or perform of any of the actions the characters of this fanficition demonstrate.

𖥔This story might be alarming and severely upsetting for people who have had experiences with rape, kidnapping and death themselves or of close loved ones.

𖥔This story is not fit for every viewers eyes and it will be glorifying acts of trauma and characters that shouldn't be in reality.

𖥔If you do not wish to see this content please block #TPATP (scroll and you'll find it is the first tag.)

𖥔This fic is post Season 1 of HBO’s The Penguin.

𖥔this is a dark original story on its own, with heavy topics & triggers. Happy endings do not happen here.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐧 & 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐧 || 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆ ˚❆.ᐟ

last update: December 2024 𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆ ˚❆.ᐟ

❆.ೃ࿔⋆˖ ݁ ➤ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏 – 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟔𝐤+

❆.ೃ࿔⋆˖ ݁ ➤ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐 – 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟔𝐤+

❆.ೃ࿔⋆˖ ݁ ➤ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑 – 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: (𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝)

❆.ೃ࿔⋆˖ ݁ ➤ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒 – 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: (𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝)

❆.ೃ࿔⋆˖ ݁ ➤ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓 – 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: (𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝)

❆.ೃ࿔⋆˖ ݁ ➤ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟔 – 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: (𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝)

❆.ೃ࿔⋆˖ ݁ ➤ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟕 – 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: (𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝)

❆.ೃ࿔⋆˖ ݁ ➤ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟖 – 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: (𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝)

❆.ೃ࿔⋆˖ ݁ ➤ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟗 – 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: (𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝)

❆.ೃ࿔⋆˖ ݁ ➤ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟎 – 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: (𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝)

❆.ೃ࿔⋆˖ ݁ ➤ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟏 – 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: (𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝)

❆.ೃ࿔⋆˖ ݁ ➤ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟐 – 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: (𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝)

❆.ೃ࿔⋆˖ ݁ ➤ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟑 – 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: (𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝)

❆.ೃ࿔⋆˖ ݁ ➤ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟒 – 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: (𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝)

❆.ೃ࿔⋆˖ ݁ ➤ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟓 – 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: (𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝)

❆.ೃ࿔⋆˖ ݁ ➤ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟔 – 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: (𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝)

❆.ೃ࿔⋆˖ ݁ ➤ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟕 – 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: (𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝)

❆.ೃ࿔⋆˖ ݁ ➤ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟖 – 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: (𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝)

❆.ೃ࿔⋆˖ ݁ ➤ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟗 – 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: (𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝)

❆.ೃ࿔⋆˖ ݁ ➤ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎 – 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: (𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝)

design credits: 𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆ ˚❆.ᐟ

❆.ೃ࿔⋆˖ ݁ ➤ Snowflake dividers – @strangergraphics @dollywons @ladylaviniya

❆.ೃ࿔⋆˖ ݁ ➤ masterlist layout inspiration – @lilacevans

taglists: 𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆ ˚❆.ᐟ

❆.ೃ࿔⋆˖ ݁ ➤ The Penguin & The Puffin Taglist. (𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝)

❆.ೃ࿔⋆˖ ݁ ➤ The Ultimate Taglist. (𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝)

[blackbeautifulqueen]

You dont love me anymore

Oswald Cobb x Black!reader

Y/n thinks Oswald is cheating on her.

You and Oz had been married for about a year at this point everything was good. Then when Vic came everything was better that is until Sofia came back. Sofia was gorgeous you couldn't deny that. Way prettier than yourself you believed. And when you say how close Oz and Sofia had gotten it made you sick to your stomach. He would never talk about business when he was home it was a rule you created. You didn't want to know how many people he had killed you never liked knowing those things. But that same rule had you hurt in the long run. You wanted to know what they were doing and any time you’d ask about Sofia hed say “there aint nobody else in the world I want but you” or “your all I need baby you know that” or even “its just business” but something was off. 

You had waited for Oz to come home and it was around 12 when you decided to go to bed. About 15 minutes go by of just laying there and you were so close to sleep but you heard the door open and soon after felt the bed dip. You took in his smell It wasnt any perfume you owned or any he owned. It killed you. 

The next moring you saw oz getting ready and wanted to do something nice so if he was cheating youd hope hed fell bad and this would pull him back to earth a bit, so you made him breakfast.

“I made you breakfast ozzie” I say with a smile he walked into the kitchen and kissed me then just held me for a moment.

“Thank you sweetheart” he said and took a piece of bacon popping it into his mouth.

“Hm this is good baby”

“You think so?” I said with a smile

“I know so” He said grabbing my hips

“Whats the plan today huh?” I ask

“Im going with Sofia-” I and with that name my face fell and I bit my lip. All noise was drowned out. Thank god he was behind me. 

“Hey sweetheart you good?” he asked I shook my head, yes bitting my lip. I didn't want to come off as the jealous wife so I just stayed silent as he continued with what he was gonna do today. Then he looked at his watch and said

“Oh, shit I've gotta go baby. I love you”

“Ok have fun. I love you too” I said as we kissed and I watched as he walked out the door.

I walked to the living room and went to the record player. All these albums that Oz had brought for me all cuz I said I like this song or this album. I pulled out beyonces lemadae album and started to blast it full volume.

And keep your money, I got my own

Keep a bigger smile on my face being alone

Bad motherfucker, God complex

Motivate your ass, call me Malcolm X

You operator, or innovator

Fuck you, hater, you can't recreate her, no, no

You'll never recreate her, no (hell no)

I started to sing. After my “concert” I went to get a bottle of wine. Withing 30 minuted a full bottle was gone and I got another. The pain of Oz wanting another women was to much for me. So instead I drowned my feelings. Almost as if it was a movie we find love starts playing and Oz walks though the door.

“You dont love me anymore

Lets see how you like this song”

“Baby?” Oz questioned and I stayed silent tears threatening to fall. 

“What the hell?” he asked

“What are you doing?” and I just looked at his through my tears and sang with the song

“You don't love me anymore” And stood up and walked to him. Pushed him back and sang

“Let's see how you like this song” cocking his head to the side

“What?” he asked

“You” I emphasise by pointing at him

“Don't love me” I say pointing at myself then laughing to keep myself from crying.

“Sweetheart, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Do I need to repeat?” I said in a conceding tone

“y/n” 

“Dont even start that “there's no other women for me” shit I fucking know what the fuck you do”

I say as he stares in shock

“Baby”

“Don't baby me why don't you baby that bitch your with instead of your fucking wife!” I yelled showing my ring

“y/n” He said loud enough so he wasn't yelling at me but I stopped talking

“y/n, baby, you talking bout Sofia?” he asked eyebrows raised

“...yes” I said quietly 

“Baby I'm doing this for us. I wasn't gonna tell you this but I killed Alberto Falcone. I'm hanging around Sofia to get in her good graces or whatever so she doesn't think it was me and more importantly she stays away from you.” It was silent for a moment then I asked

“Why did you kill him?” 

“...He laughed at me baby”

“Aw baby” I said and I reached for his face with my right hand

“Im sorry” I said with a sympathetic smile

“But you know I can take care of myself… right?”

“I know but I like to take care of ya doll. Its my job I gotta look out for you.” he said pushing your braids out of your face and giving you a kiss.

[siolixz]

Family

one-shot

Pairings: Oz 'The Penguin' Cobb x reader

You and Oz settle down in a big penthouse and kids arrive. Very self indulging fanfic. This is quite short but I tried my best to give y'all something- I miss him. ( ˘︹˘ )

Enjoy and give feedback if you want :)

Contents: fluff

Your heart was beating out of your chest as you waited for your husband to come home.

Was he going to be happy? 

What a silly question, of course he was going to be happy. He’s been telling you non-stop how excited he was to start a family with you. 

So why are you nervous? 

You paced around the master bedroom you two shared- pregnancy test in hand.

Why is he taking so long? 

You sat on the couch in the living room on your phone while the maids were getting the table ready for tonight’s dinner- you made them cook that cake Oz loved.

He has no idea what’s waiting for him.

Between high society meetings and the usual business your husband has to attend to- he was a very busy man. But he never, ever brought any bad moods he had at work back home to you. 

“There she is” 

You turned around to look at him- dressed in a tuxedo, he looked every bit the rich man he was.

You said hi to him and got up to kiss him:

“You smell nice..” you whispered.

You two talked as he undressed his dress jacket and took off his suspenders, leaving him only in the shirt and black pants he had on- he unbuttoned it a little and got it up to his elbows. 

As you two ate, you tried your best not to interrupt him- to break the news and wait for his face to light up- make his whole night.

As the cake was brought on the table and he got the first bite- you couldn’t help yourself. You just couldn’t.

”I gotta ask you something” you started- your stomach full of butterflies 

He raised an eyebrow at you- mouth full of cake. 

“Do you have any plans 9 months from now?” 

He shook his head no. 

“Why?” 

You took a deep breath-

“Well, in nine months from now- you’re gonna be a dad.”

You smiled at him as you saw him raise his eyebrows in shock. 

“You serious?” 

You nodded- your heart was so full as you saw him break out in a smile as well

“Are you happy?” You whispered at him as he reached across the table to pull you in his arms. 

“I’m the happiest man alive.” 

He kissed you gently as he held your face.

Remembering the day you told your husband about your bundle of joy brought tears in your eyes, must’ve a mix of the hormones and the nostalgia you felt as you waited to arrive at the doctor’s appointment. 

He held your hand in the backseat as your driver rounded the corner. 

Oswald and you already picked out names for him or her. Either way, whatever they were- all that mattered is that they were yours and perfect. 

You tried to calm your nerves as you laid on the table- whatever was to come, whatever the doctor told you, you will be there for them. 

She placed the cold gel on your belly as your husband held your hand next to you. He was nervous too- you could tell, even if he pretended not to be. He smiled gently at you when you glanced in his direction.

She told you everything was ok, the babies were in the right position and their bodies were alright.

What?

Babies?

”What babies?” Your husband interrupted the doctor “We thought it was just one?” 

You couldn’t form any words at that moment, your gaze was fixated on the screen as she turned it around to show you. 

She smiled at you- pointing excitedly at the precious lives you carried inside- “You two are going to have your hands full- you’re expecting two girls, see?”

You squeezed Oz’s hand while it was holding your own- chuckling in disbelief as you looked at his shocked expression.

The months went by quickly and your body changed in ways you couldn’t have imagined- by the seventh month, you could barely walk and much to Oswald’s enjoyment, you had an attitude too: 

He stared at you as you got naked in the bathroom.

You felt uncomfortable after a long day of trying to busy yourself with various things around the penthouse- his gaze on you only irritated you further.

Was he thinking you looked ugly?

He made you this way! 

You turned around at him, angry “What the fuck are you looking at?” 

He started laughing “You look beautiful- can’t I look at my wife?”  

Now not only did you walk like him, you started acting like him as well. 

Oz became way more protective of you than usual as your due date was coming up, you had the most expensive doctors on call and the most experienced nannies ready to help you out once you gave birth, he watched over you like a hawk- you could barely do anything and even if you loved him as much as you possibly could, sometimes you wanted to be left alone too.

 You two renovated the nursery where your daughters will be once they came and you already decided on the names- you picked ‘Aurora’ and your husband picked ‘Frances’ for her sister. 

Aurora and Frances- how loved they are and they weren’t even here yet. 

You talked to them as you massaged your belly at night, told them stories of their grandmothers and their grandfather, you talked to them about their aunt and uncles too- how happy they would all be to see them. 

The birth was a hard one- even with the best doctors, midwives and nurses money could buy. 

Aurora came first and then Frances, pink and gorgeous- perfect. 

Both of them.

The babies cried, you cried- Oz cried. It was all tears in the delivery room. Happy tears.

As they placed your daughters on each side of you Oz kissed your forehead “thank you” he muttered. 

Your life changed for the better in the last years. Sure, it is way more chaotic and raising two children wasn’t easy- the nannies helped.

But you were so happy- so happy and so fulfilled

By the 20th month- Aurora was already running around the house and Frances seemed to think she was a storyteller who had to be listened to at all times .

When you would calm Frances down- her sister would start running, as you would grab the more rambunctious one- her sister would start crying and so on and so forth.

Sometimes they would sync together when crying prompting your husband to announce that they were going to be great singers one day- a duet.

Aurora had your husband's eyes and his smile- the same wild twinkle in her eyes just before she was about to do something naughty. She enjoyed watching you two run around the house after her or when Oz would throw her in the air and play with her.

Frances on the other hand- she observed everything with wide eyes, trying to grab a hold of anything close to her- to find out what it was, she was the more inquisitive one for sure. She still enjoyed playing with her sister but she preferred to stick to the sidelines.

They were both well behaved, you thaught them to say 'sorry', 'please' and 'thank you'. No matter how much their father or you spoiled them, they had to know their manners and you were very pleased with their learning abilities.

God, you loved them so much.

Of course you carried them both in your belly so they could look exactly the same as their dad.

They would start screaming whenever they heard his voice or hear him walk and not only that- but they took his accent too. 

No matter how hard you tried to teach them how to say things the ‘right’ way- prepare them for school next to the other rich kids in their social circle, they preferred their father’s way of saying things- sometimes it felt like he carried them to full term. 

As they grew their father became more and more paranoid- telling you that if he can’t protect you three, then he failed as a father and husband.

I mean, you knew he had enemies, knew he was a dangerous man who shouldn’t be crossed- but having a car full of armed men trailing behind you as you would run errands into town or take the girls somewhere was a bit much. 

Oz loved them so much- they were the light of his life, everything he did, he did it for them and for you.

Every night after he came home he would kiss both girls on their your bedroom, of course depending on when he came home.

Tonight was no different as he climbed in the king sized bed to start the TV- watch the news and get his glasses from the nightstand.

He mumbled something under his breath about the politician talking on the news and turned around to look at you as you joined him.

He smiled and wrapped his arm around you as you cuddled close to him. 

"They were fast asleep weren't they?"

"Yeah- Frances almost woke up but 'Rory was out like a log." He chuckled. "What do you say we try again, huh?"

You looked up at him

“Maybe try for a boy this time? “

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's note: Thank you for reading!!!!!!!!!!

This was an anon request- I don't think I am that good at writing family fics but hey i tried and therefore no one should judge me. I also have another one-shot in the works, something I am quite proud of so far about an up and coming singer who gets a one in a lifetime opportunity to sing at 'Monroe's', the hottest jazz club who was just renovated- there she meets a very wealthy man and owner of said club. Her friends tell her 'no' and 'are you fck insane?' she sais 'me likey old dangerous gangster'- stuff happens in the Rolls Royce after. (͡• ͜ʖ ͡•)

[ladylaviniya]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐧 — 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏 || 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐈𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐟, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤. 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭. 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤!𝐎𝐬𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐛𝐛 𝐗 𝐅!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐃𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭, 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐃𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐃𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐄𝐚𝐭, 𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐭-𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝟏 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐧, 𝐎𝐬𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐭, 𝐀𝐠𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐩 (𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐠𝐞!!), 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐃𝐮𝐛𝐂𝐨𝐧, 𝐇𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐆𝐮𝐧 𝐕𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐂𝐨𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐃𝐮𝐛𝐂𝐨𝐧 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐣𝐨𝐛.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟔𝐤+

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭. 𝐈 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐬𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭, 𝐜𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭. 𝐈 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨���� 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐜𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐦. 𝐈'𝐦 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐈'𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐜𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝. 𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐭. 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝. 𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫..*𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠*

𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠: “𝐒.𝐋.𝐔.𝐓” 𝐛𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐚 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫

𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐲 @dollywons

The thick fabric of the bag that enveloped your head was rough and uncomfortable, the threads scratched against your skin. Despite the bag, you were lucky enough to have a glimpse of your feet below.

A sharp gasp escaped your lips as someone seized both of your wrists and roughly forced them behind your back unexpectedly. Then came the nasty bite of plastic digging into your skin with the hiss of a ziptie being looped over your wrists, binding them together.

Your eyes burned with tears, and you shivered in terror as your father’s sobbing rippled around you. The men around you were laughing cruelly, and their mocking chuckles supplied an unsettling contrast to your father’s suffering. You felt a knot in your throat as you tried to swallow the lump of fear that had developed there, and tears ran down your cheeks as you tried to contain an overwhelming wave of emotion. You could barely breathe.

A yelp left your lips when a hand wrapped around your bicep unexpectedly, seized it firmly, and yanked you forcibly from the apartment. You struggled to stay upright as you were led down the hallway, your feet stumbling as you were jerked forward. You sensed the familiar route to the backdoor of the building and knew where you were headed.

Your feet scuttled across the pavement and bitumen road. You heard the unlocking sliding of a heavy door, a truck? No, van. Your shins pressed into the bumper as you were pushed forward before someone grabbed the back of your knee, and carefully lifted your leg up.

“Careful dollface,” Oswald murmured, “there’s a step.”

Your foot moved forward you felt the floor of the van and felt his callous hands on your waist, lifting you up forward into the ominous vehicle.

“Atta girl,” he praised....would you believe your insides fluttered a little? How fucked up were you? How’s it feels to know despite all the terror you were experiencing you still had warmth for the bastard who was taking you away from your home.

You felt the van shake as he and the other men climb in behind you. You wobbled, unable to stable yourself, his callous hands cups your shoulder, guiding you down to a hard plank seat, you were certain you were sitting beside him.

The van slammed shut and when the engine kicked in, you were jerked into Oswald’s side. He grunted. You didn’t know where you were headed but now the Van was moving.

You felt your mouth grow dry. There were a few chuckles, few whispering snickers from the others calling your father an idiot.

You wanted to go home. It was unkind what they were doing to you. It wasn’t right. The zipties hurt, your fingertips touched the wooden bench you shared.

“M-mister Cobb?” you whimpered, “Where are you taking me?”

You could hear the long sigh of the mob boss, he sucked his teeth before answering you dismissively, “Do you think you’d be wearing a bag on your head right now if I wanted you to know?”

You silently chided yourself for speaking up, your fear making you feel foolish. A soft whine escaped your lips, and you whispered, “I’m scared.”

“I know, sweetheart,” His response was oddly warm and condescending, a patronizing tone creeping into his voice as he responded, “You just do as you’re told and nothin’ bad will happen.”

“Promise?” a tear rolled down your cheek, you were certain you were sounding chocked up. There was another best of silence. His eyes were practically burning through the black bed on your head, you were certain.

Oswald’s hand slowly moved to rest on your thigh, his fingers gently massaging the flesh there. He cleared his throat before responding, his tone firm yet somewhat gentle.

“Yeah, I promise,” he repeated.

And what did you do? You trusted him.

Of course, yes, that’s right, in the midst of that intense silence, you found yourself clinging tightly to that tiniest thread of trust, desperate for the lifeline he offered.

The van drove over a bump. His hand was a warm comfort.

The passage of time felt like an eternity, every second hanging heavily in the air. And then, with a final guttural sound, the van’s engine shuddered to a halt. Every muscle in your body tensed taut, your senses reeling as you braced yourself for the uncertainty of what awaited you next.

The sound of the sliding door roared open, the metal creaking as it moved. You could feel Oswald's strong grip guiding you to stand. He then cleared his throat, a slightly harsh sound in the stillness of the moment.

"There's a big step down," he said, his voice firm but patient, "Take it slow."

And you did. Your foot reached out into the open air unsure how far down the ground was. The scariest part was bending down, wobbling and almost losing your balance. It would’ve been easier if they’d just taken the bag off your head.

His strong hands steadied you down from the edge of the Van. You had no idea how long you’d rode along but your legs felt truly like jelly.

The silence was broken by the sound of a huge bang coming from the side of the van, possibly from a hand. It was quickly followed by Oswald’s rough voice.

The harsh order contrasted sharply with his earlier composure. “Thanks, boys; go get your feed from Iggy,” he laughed heartily.

In a quick and surprising motion, you felt his powerful hand firmly grasp your arm and draw you forward and to his side. Moving forward even with your stumbling feet you tried to figure out where you were.

As you were tugged forward, the creaky sound of a door opening echoed through the air, a sense of coldness creeping in around you. The shift in the flooring was undeniable as you felt the weighty concrete beneath your feet give way to the smooth, echoing surface of marble tile, and then to the plush softness of carpet. It was clear to you that you’d perhaps entered the confines of a building.

“Mister Cob-”

“Just a minute sweetheart,” he cut you off.

Your lips primed together tightly. Why couldn’t he just take the bag off your head at least?

Oswald paused for a brief moment, his firm hand resting on the small of your back as he indicated you should remain stationary. Then, a delicate chiming sound filled the air, and his hand gently guided you forward. The floor beneath your feet felt as if it was moving, and the air was filled with a soft, soothing classical melody. The sensation was unmistakable—you were stepping into the confined space of an elevator.

How pathetic did you look? You wondered how frightened and how obvious you appeared, you wish you could’ve shown a brave face but what was the point when you had a bag over your head, scratching over your cheeks.

You could smell sandalwood as you were directed to a spot and made to sit down on a low but comfortable furniture...a couch.

The elevator ride eventually came to an end, the soft chime announcing the arrival at the desired floor. Your steps carried you from the springy floor of the elevator to the solid, steady surface of whatever room you had been ushered into.

The fragrance of sandalwood filled your nostrils, the scent rich and earthy.

As you were led to a specific place, Oswald gave you a curt, “Here, sit down.” The furniture beneath your body was low and comfy, and the soft feel of the material under your thighs told you it was a couch.

You were acutely aware as Oswald's footsteps approached, the sound of his shoes tapping against the flooring filling the air. The closer he drew, the stronger the scent of his aftershave and cologne became, the warm, masculine aroma wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. In those moments, the small luxuries—like the smell of him—served as a lifeline, helping to hold your emotions together and keep you from completely shattering.

The instant the sack was lifted off your head, the onslaught of harsh, bright light assaulted your eyes, causing you to blink rapidly as you attempted to refocus. Blinking away the initial pain, your surroundings slowly took shape and solidified. You realized now that you were in an expansive room filled with personal belongings. This was no club, but rather a home—a luxurious penthouse, to be specific.

The spaciousness of the penthouse was truly colossal. The room you were in felt like it was the size of the entire apartment building you lived in! The sheer scale of the place left you feeling tiny and insignificant, the term “puny” couldn’t adequately describe how drastically different you felt in his home.

Once your gaze wandered beyond the sheer size of the penthouse, you couldn’t help but notice the distinct essence of the 1920s that infused the space like a time capsule. The art deco and traditional design elements were showcased in every corner, exuding a sense of grandeur and decadence. The walls were adorned with wallpaper featuring geometric shapes in glittering gold, bold black, and vibrant scarlet hues, paying homage to the era’s iconic aesthetics. It was as if you had stepped back in time to the roaring twenties.

The flooring beneath your feet was crafted from the finest polished marble, its cool, smooth surface gleaming beneath the ambient light. Extravagant crystal chandeliers and elegant brass light fixtures hung suspended from the high, extravagant ceiling, casting a warm and soothing glow throughout the room. Oswald’s furniture—composed of rich, dark woods—featured sharp, clean lines and minimalist detailing, the result being a seamless blend of refinement and modern aesthetics. Occasionally, luxurious fur throws and plush rugs added an opulent touch to the surroundings, completing the lavish setting.

The soft red rug on the floor resembled the type of carpet from a hundred years ago, and every piece of furniture seemed like a priceless antique. The mansion as a whole had the aura of an historical monument, as if it was a portal into the past.

Oswald was seated in front of you, perching on the edge of his coffee table. His elbows rested on his thighs, and his dark eyes fixated on you with an intense and unblinking stare. The gaze was almost scrutinizing, his beady eyes moving and darting around you with a calculating intent. The occasional flicker of his tongue licking over the jagged scar on his upper lip, a remnant of some past injury.

It was impossible to know what he was thinking.

“Mister Cobb?” you breathed, “Wha—"

“Your phone,” he asked, “Where is it? Your pocket?”

You blinked, you tried to reach for it only to remember your hands were still bound by plastic zip ties.

“Yes sir,” You nodded.

He reached forward, his hand cupped around your outer thigh, you kept your legs closed, in a skirt even like the one you wore, he might’ve seen anything.

He fished out the little black brick that you called a phone. A handy down of a handy down with a cracked screen in the top corner.

“Passcode?” he murmured.

You swallowed thickly and told him. You then added weakly, “It’s my birthdate.”

Of course it was.

“That would ugh, make you eighteen?” he mused dryly.

“Nine—” you swallowed as you corrected him, “Nineteen. I was older than most of my graduation class.”

His thumb rolled across the screen.

He looked up, a bit amused, thick dark eyebrow arched. “Right, nineteen.”

Silence hung heavily in the air as he scrolled through the contents of your phone. It hadn’t really occurred to you that this would be a part of the deal you’d agreed to, but your nerves kept you from voicing any protest. All you could do was hope that he wouldn’t stumble across anything too inappropriate. You knew about the danger of nudes so that you didn’t worry about— but your search history on the other hand was a whole other kettle of fish. Each passing moment felt like an eternity as you waited anxiously, unsure of what he might discover in your personal device.

“Who is Richard?” he finally asked, his eyes squinting back at you.

Richard? You swallowed hard as you realized who he was referring to—Dick Grayson, circus boy.

“Dicky’s just a um friend from school,” you managed to say, your mouth feeling dry as sandpaper.

Oswald scrolled through your phone's contents, his thumb gliding effortlessly across the screen. When he came across a message from Richard, a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips.

"Hm nah dollface...He wants to fuck you," he sounded concerned?

In response to Oswald's statement, you couldn't help the little laugh that escaped your lips—mostly born of surprise at the fact he even considered such a notion.

"N-no, he’s just a friend."

Richard wasn’t like other boys, he was kind and sweet, he was nice to talk to. But Oswald knew better.

"Don't you think for a second that a kid like him values your friendship more than he values the cunt between your legs," Oswald's response was harsh and cold, his dark eyes locking onto yours, "He's definitely thought about a whole manner of ways he’d like to ugh... have his way with you, that's for sure, make no mistake ‘bout it."

The lump in your throat nearly choked you as you nodded, watching intently as Oswald continued to scroll through your phone. He was going through the messages where Dicky had talked about Circus camp and his parents encouraging him to perform with them.

Oswalds tone was tight and almost possessive as he asked, “You text him quite a lot sweetheart, you ain’t lying to me now? You haven’t been bumping uglies with this kid?”

A shiver ran down your spine as you wondered if his taut voice was born of jealousy.

“He’s just a lonely boy,” you said, “I still haven’t...done that...stuff.” He looked up at that, one dark eyebrow quirked. A filthy little virgin who got off on dark erotica books, how cliché...how wonderful for Oswald Cobb.

“Hmm,” he finally acknowledged and stood, “He’s lonely with four hundred Instagram friends?” He placed your phone into his pocket, “That circus monkey ain’t lonely sweetheart, he just wants to see your tits to jerk off too.”

He moved around you, and for the second time, you caught a whiff of him. Your entire body trembled involuntarily as he slowly, thoroughly examined you. It was an experience unlike any you’d had before. He halted behind you, a long pause filling the air. You felt his presence just inches behind you, his nose hovering above your head as his warm breath fanned your hair while he drank in your scent.

You heard the clicking and felt his fingers loop into your zipties before cutting them away with a box cutter blade. You pulled your wrists to your chest and rubbed them, hissing as blood rushed back into the strangled flesh.

You breathed out a soft, “Thankyou,” your chest rose and fell.

His thumb swiped over your cheek, and he winked before pocketing the box cutter right beside your phone. Maybe if you could get to your phone and call the police, you would be saved. He walked over to a small bar cabinet and began making himself a drink.

You hated the silence, you needed to know what was about to happen to you. You didn’t dare stand up from the couch. Was he going to make your work in his club? Maybe he needs a new housekeeper, that’s why you were here in this penthouse.

“Mister Cobb?” you shivered, “What will you do to me?”

The Penguin chuckled and turned back around with not one but two glasses in hand. There was a dark brown in each. Whiskey? Bourbon? Port? Who card, it’s not like you would’ve known the difference, a sweet thing like you.

“Lotta things sweetheart,” he purred, returning to the couch, “A lot of things, and you’ll be doing some things back.”

You felt warm in the face, your chest tight. Surely he didn’t mean that? Not sex? No. Mister Cobb wasn’t that type of man...was he? You didn’t think he’d kidnap someone either but here you were.

He handed you a cup, you carefully cradled it. You weren’t allowed to drink. He probably just wanted you to hold it safe for him. But why hand it to you when there was a whole coffee table beside your legs?

Your fingers clenched the cup, “I...I haven’t um...Mister Cobb, I haven’t had a boyfriend.”

The Penguin smirked and shook his head, he took a swig of his drink and exhaled.

“I ain’t gonna be no boyfriend hun,” he chuckled, “You’re just going to do as your told, which means if I say ‘suck my cock’, you do it, I tell you to spread your legs, you do it, I tell you to cook or clean, you do it, hell if I tell you to kiss my feet, you do it. Capiche?”

His gun holster was peaking out from his coat. You nodded nervously. You were scared again. And now with his dark eyes on you, he could see your fear too. You swore his expression softened.

“Drink, that glass is for you,” he pushed the bottom of the cup up a little more, your arms lifting with it.

Your knees tightened together when he hand lowered down to sit on top of your lap, squeezing your thigh outside your skirt.

Despite him just telling you to obey, you hesitated, your moral values too constricting, “I’ve never— I’m not allowed to Mister Cobb, I’m not twenty one— I’m nineteen.” You reminded.

The mob boss’ eyebrows lifted, he glanced to the tall windows, to the glass and back to your face, “Well ugh, I ain’t gonna tell on you... Have a sip, be a good girl for me and do as you’ve been told.”

You felt embarrassed— a virgin who had never had a drink, how could Oswald ever see you as anything but just as some stupid dolt. He probably still thought of you as a kid... You couldn’t breathe.

You wanted him to be happy with you, you wanted him to like you and most importantly not cause any harm to you. You wanted to impress him. So you lifted the cup to your mouth.

The glass was cold on your lips, the smell of the alcohol was enough to want to make you gag. It touched your peaking tongue and tasted revolting like some burning poison. Your nose wrinkled, your lip curled back in disgust.

You pulled back and shook your head. You couldn’t drink anymore. You were scared you’d vomit or gag loudly.

The penguin gave a hearty laugh, “Not your speed? Ah well, it’s an acquired taste. Good girls like you don’t drink stuff like this anyhow, should’ve started you on something like a long island ice tea or a Tia Maria.” He set your glass aside, “Just thought the whiskey would warm you up,” he purred and slid his fingers down your thigh to touch your trembling knee.

He sighed and looked you up and down again. He bit the corner of his lip and leaned right back against the back of the couch, sinking into the cushioned seat.

“God I hope you’re worth eighty thousand dollars, your pops current state of breathin’ is ah dependin’ on it but I’d be more disappointed sweetheart, afterall, it’s a lot of money. Tell me...do you think you’re worth that much?” he asked, watching the nervousness in you spike.

How could you answer a question like that!?

Deep down you wanted to be considered priceless, but in the grand scheme of things you looked down at yourself and knew you were worth nothing in the eyes of the big power dogs like the penguin Oswald Cobb.

You felt your heart drop into the pit of your stomach as you watched his hands fiddle with the buckle on his belt, your mind racing with a mix of fear and excitement.

“How much do you think a blowjob from you would cost?” His question hung heavy in the air, and you could do nothing but look up at him, speechless.

 He wanted a taste of what he’d just bought- you, he wanted to see what you were capable of, your worth to him to allow your own father to live. Your heart began to pound violently in your chest, every fibre of your being quaking with a mixture of anxiety and anticipation.

“I- Mister Cobb...I—” you cleared your throat and lifted your hand up to your lips, you looked away from his lap.

The thought of failing to live up to his expectations was making you nauseous. Your eyes darted around, refusing to meet his gaze, settling instead on the sight of your own reflection, distorted and warped, on the golden tooth. “You alright babydoll?” his question broke through your fearful trance.

“Y-yeah,” you answered, swallowing your anxiety and doing your best to present a facade of obedience, “I— it’s just, um—”

“Jesus, you really are a virgin, aren’t you?” he laughed, removing his belt from his trousers loops entirely. It was a mean laugh. You frowned, your eyes cast to the floor. You felt so humiliated. It wasn’t right, you worked so hard to stay away from boys and girls who had shown you interest, people at church praised you for it even, you were often called “Mature for your age.” And you wore it like a badge of honour. You didn’t party or drink or do drugs. You were the real deal. A good girl.

You just did a lot of masturbating in private.

“What? Those girly porno books teach you nothin’ eh?” he started shaking his head, chuckling and wiped his hair back, “Man I didn’t think I’d be starting from scratch, ain’t no more good than a one dollar cockslut.”

Your eyes teared up, “I’m not a— I’m...I’m not a—” you stuttered.

He smirked, “Maybe not now dollface but we’ll see.”

You stood up from the couch, towering above him and his spread legs. You were frustrated. Angry tears splitting from the slit of your eyes.

“I’m worth more than a dollar!” you snapped unexpectedly, your hand cupped your mouth. You didn’t meant to sound so angry. You wanted to apologise until you remembered exactly why you were here and what he wanted to do with you.

His brows rose, his smirk not disappearing but he definitely picked up on the attitude in your tone, “That so? Well ugh, go on then, how much are you worth?”

“A lot Mister Cobb,” you lightly huffed and crossed your arms, before boldly stating believing yourself to be smart, “More than you can afford.”

Oh, how that made him pause. His eyes narrowed. You felt sweat roll down the back of your neck. He looked intrigued, not impressed but not angry.

He pursed his lips and glanced down your legs, back up to your face, “Pretty ambitious there kiddo. How about this? If you suck my cock and make me cum in,” he looked at his rolex, “Ten minutes, I’ll call everything off. Your pops debt, everything. I’ll drop you home once my boys bring back my car.”

You blinked, the wetness had gone away, your arms fell to your side, “What? Wait? I can go home today?” your breath caught in your chest, “You mean it?”

The penguins chest rumbled as he chuckled, he touched his chest and drew an invisible cross, “Cross my heart and hope to die, Sweetheart.”

It sounded too good to be true, but who were you to turn down such an offer? Your nostrils flared. The penguin had never broken a promise to you. You didn’t believe he’d lie about this. You bit your bottom lip. Your fathers livelihood was at stake.

It was a small memory, you could hear Oswald's voice from when he told you in the car after you shared your dream— 'You just gotta put your mind to it, know what you want and know what you’re willing to do and sacrifice to get there.'

“Atta girl,” he sighed, his tone gentle and almost kind. “Just try your best, eh?” You felt a strange familiarity in that, realizing how many times you’d heard those exact words growing up—when you were scared waiting for your dad finish work at the lounge, or nervous about an upcoming test, or just running late to the school bus, he had always been around to say that to you... A surge of warmth spread through you now, as his hand moved to the back of your head. His hands had never touched your hair except to pat your head... never like this.

You wanted to leave, you wanted to help your father.

“Ten minutes,” you muttered, “Just ten minutes,” you slowly lowered down onto the couch beside him onto your knees, cushioned on the seats. You didn’t see the harm in saving your knees from his rough carpet rug. Your hands experimentally laid into his thighs.

He quickly guided your head downward, bringing your face in line with his rising hips and freeing his cock from the confines of his trousers. There was no time for inspection, no time to study or admire it. Your mouth felt like a desert as the tip of his dick pressed against your lips, and you could do nothing but open your mouth. You didn’t even have time to process whether he was cut or not.

He sucked in a breath above you and removed his palm away from your head and his cock.

“Alright, sweetheart. Get to work, now. Make Daddy happy.”

You should have bitten him. Should have bit his cock right off. It was not only disgusting that he coined the term daddy but that you typically liked reading those daddy kink mafia stories. Your insides jumped. You whined around his thick pole covered in skin.

The flesh against your tongue was hard and hot. You could feel everytime he took in a shuddering breath. His hand travelled down came to rest on your waist. His fingers slowly pushed below the edge of your blouse, making contact with your bare cold skin and caressing the sensitive flesh of your hips. His touch was surprisingly gentle and incredibly warm, the feel of his skin against yours sent a tingling wave through your veins down between your legs.

You ran your lips along the length of his rigid cock, lowering yourself further until your tongue met the base where his soft curls carpeted treat. You ran your tongue upwards, attempting to wet the flesh and bring some much-needed lubrication. This was not an easy task with a dry mouth.

Despite having some hair, he was remarkably well-groomed and had a powerful cologne scent. He was a man with significant endowment, and based on what you could see and feel, you suspected that he was uncircumcised. Although you couldn’t help but feel that he was somewhat above the norm, his length was at least average. However, he was thick, and you were positive that when the time came, he would tear your insides apart.

You ran your tongue along his skin again and again, feeling the veins pulse and throb under your touch. A salty taste filled your mouth as you noticed your own saliva mixing with his sweat. Suddenly, he slipped his hand under your skirt, his fingers trailing along the edge of your panties, pausing there for a few seconds before moving to your hip.

Other than understanding that males enjoyed the sensation of a woman’s mouth on their dicks, what you’d seen in porn, you had no idea what you were doing. It couldn’t be that difficult! Simple, right? They always cummed in porn and your guy friends like Dicky had always talked about how guys typically cum in minutes, even seconds!

You moved the palm of your hand upward and downward over the pulsing flesh while licking the tip of his cock in a circular motion. After a few moments, you placed him back inside your mouth and endured on. The tip was the first thing you focussed on. Gently sucking, you placed it upon your tongue and then pulled the tip of it with your soft lips until it popped out from your mouth all together.

He was letting out a few quiet sighs here and there, but not much else. A few minutes later, you released his cock pausing to catch your breath and loosen your jaw. His head was a dark pink almost a purpling colour. Your eyes glanced up at him worryingly.

Why hadn’t he cum yet!?

Your heart race began to pick up, how long had it been?

The tiniest tick in his lips made a smirk, he leaned down and cupped your cheek. You continued to stroke him gently as he tenderly stated, “That’s cute and all what you’re doing baby but ugh, when you lack experience you’re gonna hurt your jaw doing that so you should show a bit of passion, enthusiasm.”

“I’m sorry,” you automatically said without thinking. You weren’t sorry. You just felt like it was the only thing you could say to him. You only prayed he wasn’t reconsidering and that the ten minutes were not yet up.

He pat the couch seat where you were just sitting before you’d gotten onto your knees, you obediently rose up and took your place beside him. Was that it? Was it over? Could you go home? He didn’t cum, you werent sure if he hadn’t, weren’t you meant to feel it?

He gave a small smile and placed his hand back on your head.

“You got five minutes; keep going.” He guided your mouth back to his aching cock. A strange relief claimed you, you still had a chance. You began to move with a bit more purpose. Your tongue sucking him in whole your cheeks worked hard.

He praised, placing a hand on the back of your head, “That’s it, good girl, that’s what I expect from my girls.”

The soft patting of his heavy hand was surprisingly soothing, while you tried to focus on moving your head up and down quickly. He applied a little extra pressure, and you took in more of his cock in response.

He hummed, “Take it all, c’mon.”

You shifted further downwards, struggling to fully take him in your mouth. You gagged slightly as he pressed deeper into your throat. He praised, “There it is. Good girl.”

You felt a warm little thrill at his words. The feeling of him pressed against the back of your throat was intense, and for a moment, you felt like you were struggling to breathe. But then he pulled back a bit, giving you a chance to breathe.

You drew away immediately and inhaled deeply. You returned your puffy lips to his puffy cock tip. You tried to take as much of home as you could. Again, you withdrew. You whined. Pornstars made deep throating look so easy, it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t like Oswald Cobb had a mammoth dick but he still made you gag when he was barely half way passed your lips.

You took a moment to collect yourself but made sure to keep your fist moving up and down around the length of him.

After a moment, he reached for his cock and put it back onto your lips, running across them like a man made lipgloss. You whined, flicking your tongue out and licking at his tip like some divine dessert.

“Fuck me,” he groaned. “You must really want Daddy’s cum.”

You pushed your thighs closer together. All of a sudden, your pussy pulsed between your legs. A surge of blood rushed through your body. Daddy. Minutes ago you wanted to bite his dick off and now? It was really filthy. So taboo and foul. It was naughty. And it turned you on.

He gently dragged your skirt up over your back and let his fingers sit over the softness of your crotch. You jerked forward gasping in surprise. The tips of his fingers began to rub into your cloth covered clit and lips. Could he feel it...was there a chance your panties were growing damp. You had totally forgotten about the time limit, the deal.

He seized your jaw and raised your head.

He grunted, “Look at me.”

With his cock still between your lips, he jerked himself vigorously before unleashing an animalistic moan. The gushing of his liquid salt made you balk and gag. You pulled away only for his hand to grab your face and press his palm to your mouth.

“Swallow. Swallow daddy’s cum sweetheart c’mon now.” He breathed hotly into your ear and cheek. A tear left your eye, you obeyed and felt horrifyingly disgusted in yourself, with how aroused you were getting, witch how you swallowed his cum down.

“Yeah,” he cackled, “Atta girl, my good girl drinking her daddy’s spunk like the secret cockslut she is.”

You whimpered. No. You weren’t a slut. No. That’s what started this. You weren’t some single dollar cockslut. You weren’t worth just a dollar and you were not a cockslut. Why did he have to say that? Why was he so mean? Why did you get so turned on?

He lightly touched your swollen lips with his thumb. Playfully he added, “That’s the thanks I should have received for giving you a ride home instead of letting you wait in the sun.”

You imagined how that would’ve gone. If you’d gotten into his car and offered a blowjob in payment...that would’ve made you a whore though. Mister Cobb didn’t mess around with Whores though, right?

Your lips parted, and he continued, “That’s how a woman should always thank a man like me,” He raised an eyebrow, adding, “Right babydoll?”

A man like him. What type of man was that. A powerful man? A rich man? An old man? A criminal?

Your insides trembled.

You were at a loss for words. All you could do was nod in agreement, even though you didn't concur. Everything now hinged on pleasing him, which meant accepting his stance.

He growled kissing your cheek, "Be a good girl now and thank me."

Thank him? Thank him!? You wanted to be furious, you wanted to claw out his eyes, give him another scar on his ugly face.

Yet your voice came out as no more than a whisper, "Thank you."

He clicked his tongue, expressing disappointment. “Nah, nah,” he chastised, “Say my name and thank me for drivin’ you home earlier and allowin’ you to suck my cock.”

Your voice meek and quivering, “Thank you, Mister Cobb, for giving me a lift— for... letting me...s-suck your— your,” Embarrassment burned within you as you spoke, “Your cock.”

“Yea it’s alright,” he hummed, he lifted his watch and smiled sadistically, “It was a lovely show, but now you’ll have all the time in the world to practice. Never had a cock sucked for twenty whole minutes before. Real shit blow job for a girl who reads porn books. You’re lucky you’re pretty baby or I’d have belted your ass for not finishing me off sooner.”

Your stomach plummeted, at his mention of the belt and how and even further when you realised you had lost the bet, the deal in his favour. His hand crawled up your thigh.

“Now, cause I’m a nice guy, a good Daddy unlike your Pops,” his fingers touched the seam of your damp underwear, tracing the lining, and pulling the fabric aside, “I’m gonna make you cum.”

With wide eyes and terror in your throat you grabbed his thick hairy wrist and squeezed you legs shut, pushing him away, “W-wait!”

To Be Continued...

                             

  𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒:

𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐦 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞, 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐬, 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬. 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬, 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬.

Australian Helpline Services

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[ladylaviniya]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐧 & 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐧 *𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖* 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝.

🍒🐧"𝐏𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧' 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬." (𝐎𝐬𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐛𝐛 𝐗 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)🐧🍒

𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈 → 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐬 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐠𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧.

[ladylaviniya]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐧 & 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐧™ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐝𝐝. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐧 & 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐧 || 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆ ˚❆.ᐟ

last update: December 2024 𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆ ˚❆.ᐟ

the penguin & the puffin moodboards 𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆ ˚❆.ᐟ

❆.ೃ࿔⋆˖ ݁ ➤ NSFW Moodboards

❆.ೃ࿔⋆˖ ݁ ➤ SFW Moodboards (𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝)

life as his puffin: the drabbles. .𖥔݁˖⋆˚❆.ᐟ(𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝)

❆.ೃ࿔⋆˖ ݁ ➤ baby it’s cold outside - Christmas Day

❆.ೃ࿔⋆˖ ݁ ➤ put the blame on name – Lasagna & Laughter

look into the snow globe 𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆ ˚❆.ᐟ

❆.ೃ࿔⋆˖ ݁ ➤ the snowmen: the gangmembers (𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝)

❆.ೃ࿔⋆˖ ݁ ➤ the iceberg: the mafia hierarchy (𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝)

❆.ೃ࿔⋆˖ ݁ ➤ the penguins jukebox playlist (𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝)

❆.ೃ࿔⋆˖ ݁ ➤ the frozen pond - 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬: 𝐀𝐎𝟑 || 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐚𝐝 || 𝐓𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐫 .𖥔݁˖⋆˚❆.ᐟ(𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝)

locations of gotham city, watch your step!!𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆ ˚❆.ᐟ

❆.ೃ࿔⋆˖ ݁ ➤ gotham: the penguins penthouse

❆.ೃ࿔⋆˖ ݁ ➤ gotham: the iceberg lounge

❆.ೃ࿔⋆˖ ݁ ➤ gotham: arkham asylum (𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝)

design credits: 𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆ ˚❆.ᐟ

❆.ೃ࿔⋆˖ ݁ ➤ snowflake dividers – @ladylaviniya @dollywons

❆.ೃ࿔⋆˖ ݁ ➤ masterlist layout inspiration – @lilacevans

taglists: 𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆ ˚❆.ᐟ

❆.ೃ࿔⋆˖ ݁ ➤ The Penguin & The Puffin Taglist. (𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝)

❆.ೃ࿔⋆˖ ݁ ➤ The Ultimate Taglist. (𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝)