Gotham Imagines

[Jerome Valeska] No Part 1

Jerome Valeska x Reader
Warnings:None

"I think that went well"

Setting your hand on your hip you tilt your head, pouting as you look down at the man who lay lifeless at your feet.  Scoffing you chuck the revolver you clasped in your hand over your shoulder, snapping your head up with raised eyebrows.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Get him outta my sight idiots!" You bark and the men stood to the edges of the room scramble to grab the senators dead body, hauling him up in their arms and wobbling off and out of the room. Rolling your eyes you turn on your heel and sit down, lifting you feet and propping them on the polished mahogany surface of the long dining table.

"Honestly, I swear half of you dimwits are brain dead" you mumble to yourself leaning back and releasing a long breath in annoyance. You watched your fathers goons roughly scrub at the floor, trying to lift the blood out of its rugged surface. "Dab not scrub! I swear-" You pause briefly and sit up. "Did your mothers never teach you idiots?"

"(Y/N), be nice." Snapping your head up a broad smile graces your lips as you jump to your feet, accidently stepping on a man's foot, but he makes no remark against you.

"Sorry daddy." You pout slightly, before smiling once more. Your father, who's hair was a scruffy mess, looked over the mess of blood and brains before sighing.

"Who-"

"It was that guy who wasn't cooperating, I handled it." You cut him off and Oswald laughs before smiling.

"That's my girl." Oswald briefly pauses and walks over, leaning down to peck your forehead. "Now, I have some... business to attend to, then we can have dinner. Why don't you run upstairs and get ready, huh?" Oswald places a hand on your shoulder and smiles warmly but you simply raise an eyebrow.

"What kind of business?" You ask and he shakes his head.

"Just talking with a few buyers, nothing for you to worry about. Now run along dear-"

"Dad." You press and his smile drops. "Just tell me, I'm eighteen for gosh sake, I think I can handle this sort of thing."

"I know, I know, its just... this is important and I don't want you getting caught in the crossfire." He breathes and you chew the inside of your cheek, thinking to yourself.

"Okay, I'll go get ready." Prying away from Oswald's grasp you walk towards the door, making sure to hop over the blood stains, before passing through your father's bodyguards and swinging the door open. Just as you step out of the door though one of your father's goons slip past you, and with a booming voice calls.

"Officer Gordon is here sir." You probably should of been worried that a police officer had just shown up at your house, yet you weren't, and you never would he, because these visits were more like clockwork. It was like a routine, and whenever they showed up you tended to stay out of their way, keeping to yourself within the confinements of your bedroom. You saw no reason as to why you should take bother of them, so instead you simply climbed the staircase to your room and entered it through the polished mahogany door, gently closing it behind you before strolling over and flopping down onto your bed carelessly.

For a few silent moments you lay staring at the ceiling, your hands on the low of your stomach as your eyes flicked over the paintwork patterns carved far above you. Every time you shifted you could feel the cotton sheets of your bed brush against your bare thighs, which were only covered in a pair of black shorts with which you wore a loose, light grey jumper, and your hair fanned around your head like an angels halo. Your father often called you an angel, yet you didn't know why. You weren't exactly an innocent saint, then again you-

Your thoughts were suddenly cut short by a small pelting noise rattling your window, causing you to sit up and look around in confusion. For a few moments there was silence until- thwack! There it was again, the sound of a small stone hitting glass. Curious, you stand up and pad lightly across the wooden floorboards to your bedroom and towards the window, looking down at the gloomy street below. You blink in astonishment before grabbing the bottom of the window and hoisting it open, leaning outside.

"What the hell are you doing?" You ask, laughing as a broad smile blooms across your lips. Jerome smiles at you from where he stands, his red hair glinting of the winter sun.

"Getting your attention gorgeous!" He calls back up and you role your eyes at the cliche pet name.

"My Dad'll kill you, you know that right!" Jerome shrugs and steps forward to grab ahold of the wooden framework that scales the side of the building, one which holds up a great vine that scales to the roof. "Just hurry up you big idiot" Jerome grins and begins climbing as you step back, turning around and walking to your door. With a twist of your hand the door clicks shut and you smile, thankful that your father won't be able to barge in and kill Jerome on the spot.

Your just about to turn around and greet the red headed looney, but as you do you come in contact with a hard chest as a pair of arms snake their way around your waist. You feel yourself being lifted off the floor and you laugh loudly, throwing your head back as you wrap your legs around Jerome's waist. He spun you around, making sure you don't fall, before wobbling and collapsing onto your bed, yourself pinned underneath him as he stares down at you in awe.

"You shouldn't be here, my dad'll kill you" you sigh, pursing your lips as Jerome brushes a lock of hair out of your eyes.

"I know" he grins, ducking his head and closing his eyes. You swerve out of the way, watching as his lips touch your  bed covers. You laugh.

"Jerome you have to go, Jim and my father are downstairs and they'll catch you."  Placing your hands on his chest you push him off you, standing up before walking across your room and drawing your curtains, shielding Jerome from any prying eyes. You turn to look at him and place both hands on your hips, glaring at him from where he lay sprawled on your bed.

"Jerome." You say sternly but he simply huffs, flopping onto his back and running his hands through the locks of his red hair. "Come on, please" walking over you grab his a, pulling him to stand up. He obeys, wobbling to his feet as he looks down at you.

"(Y/N) they won't find me, they won't, I promise." He whispers, cupping your face with one of his hands. His thumb brushes over your cheek, catching a stray eyelash that had fallen there.

"Jerome I-" ZIP. The sound of something whizzing through the air rang in your ears, and suddenly Jerome looked over your shoulder, furrowing his brows.

"What the..." releasing you from his hold Jerome strode to the window and took ahold of one of your curtains, poking his finger through a small ripper circle that now lay there. "Shit-" Jerome whirled around, just in time to see you fall to the floor, your eyes closed as your head hits the ground with a loud THUD. Jerome was frozen, not moving, as he watched your skin pale, a red flower blooming on your stomach.

No.