Gotham One Shots

Jerome x reader

(Y/N)-your name; (Y/H/C)-your hair color; (Y/B/F)-your best friend; and I'm just going to assume you're short

"All cheerleaders need to be dismissed, and come to the bus, by the cafeteria." Says the lady over the intercom.

I sigh, and get up, along with some of the girls in my class.

We make our way to the bus, and signed in.
I climbed on, and made my way to the back. Once settled, I start to zone out, and eventually fall asleep.

I wake up to the sound of screams. Looking around, I see a truck blocking us from going anywhere, and a ginger talking about who knows what.
A big baldy was handcuffing all of my friends to the seats.

After he handcuffed me, I decided if I wanted a chance of living, I'd have to be bold.

He was walking through the bus ever so slowly, talking.
"Excuse me! can you wrap this up, please?" I interrupt him.

His head shoots my way, a shocked look on his face.
It doesn't take him long to put a smile on, though.
"And why would you like to know?" He said as he walks towards me, and crouches down to where we are eye level.

"I have other plans for today." I say bluntly. I hate to brag (not) but I'm a good little actress, so it's easy to hide my fear.

He just laughs. And laughs. And laughs.

He brushes a fake tear from his cheek, as his laughter calms down.

"Well cancel them sweetie! You're coming with me!" He says as he starts to uncuff my right wrist, first.

"May I ask why you chose me?" I say out of curiosity, when he starts to uncuff my left wrist.

"You have guts. Courage. To stand up to someone threatening to burn you all to death!" He says, laughing.

I say nothing more as he pulls me out of the bus, and into their truck.

"Sweet dreams!" He says before he knocks me out.

I wake up in an empty room. No window, no bed, no dresser. Just four walls, a door, and light from the four light bulbs.

Standing up, and walking toward the door, I try the handle.
Nothing.
Figures.
I assume their not going to keep me in here forever, so I just sit back down, and wait.

It would be stupid to try to run, because then I'd piss them off, and they'd kill me.

I wonder if my friends turned into a barbecue.
I guess I'll find out sooner or later.

Zoning out into my thoughts, I'm startled when the door opens.

"Good morning!" The ginger says.

"I never got your name." I say to him, looking up, but staying seated.

"Where are my manners! Jerome Valeska, and I never got yours!" He says, sitting down infront of me.

"(Y/N)" I say simply.

"Well, are you hungry, (Y/N)?" He asks, getting used to my name.

"I could eat." I say quietly. Fear is taking over.
I don't want to leave this room, I don't want to go out and about. I don't want to see what's out of that door. I want to go home.

"Good! Because I made breakfast!" He says as he stands up, and offers to help me up. I accept, because I don't want him to flip out.

He eagerly leads me into the kitchen by my hand, and sits me down at the dining table.

I pick at my food. How am I supposed to eat knowing that I'm a hostage, and I'm probably not going to see my family again?!

"You're not eating." He says suddenly.

I don't say anything.

"Dry those tears, my dear."

My hand goes to my face. I never cry. I feel one tear that has fallen.

"You're much more talkative when you basically have a gun to your head." Jerome says, trying to lighten the mood. He's not doing a very good job.

"What's wrong?!" He says frustrated," I've fed you, I've given you water, do you need to poop?! Tell me so I can fix it!"

"I'm just confused and tired I guess." I say quietly.

"Well then let me show you to your room." He says as he stands, and motions for me to follow.

He leads me up stairs, down a hall, and into a decent sized room.

It has a bed, a dresser, a bathroom, but no window.

"If you need anything, I'm the next door to your right." He says as he is about to shut the door.

I'm left alone, in an unfamiliar room, next to a psycho.

I make my way to the bed, across the carpet, and climb into it.

Laying there, I rethink that I'll never see my family, or (Y/B/F) again. And even if I do get free, it'll never be the same.
I start to cry, and a cry turns into a sob.
I'm guessing Jerome heard, because he comes into the room.

"What's wrong now?" He says kind of irritated.

"I'll be fine." I sniffle from under the blankets and sheets.

"Look, I've tried to be nice, and give you what you want! But if that's not enough, than fine! We'll do this the hard way!" Jerome yells as silent tears fall from my face, onto my pillow.

He slams the door shut, and I muffle my cries.

If this is how I'm going to live, then I better get used to it.

Should I make this a book?
I'm just curious, would you guys like it as a book?
If so what would I name it?

And round of applause because this thing is almost 1,00 words long!
And thank you guys for 760 reads! I didn't think this thing would get 100!

Okay that's all.