Jerome Valeska One-Shots

Lost

It's official. You're lost.

Great, today couldn't get any worse, you think. First my aunt dies, then my boyfriend dumps me, then I leave my phone in the taxi after he kicked me out for not having enough money, and now I'm lost in some nasty corner of the Narrows.

An agonized scream draws you from your pessimistic thoughts, causing you to jump a foot in the air from pure fright. The maniacal laughter that follows puts the tiny hairs on the back of your neck at full attention as you slowly start to back away. Any other corner of Gotham had to be better than a murder scene.

You scramble backwards but find yourself stopped by something hard behind you. Before you can turn, a thick arm wraps around your neck and tugs, cutting off your air supply as a second arm pulls you into the person by your stomach. A scream tries to bubble out of your throat, but is stopped by the limb choking you.

You hear sniffing sounds as your captor smells your hair, and then a breathy sigh, all of which makes you wrinkle your nose in disgust. Clearly you've been caught by a real perv.

"Greenwood," a woman's voice warns from somewhere behind you, sounding annoyed. "You shouldn't. You know how Jerome gets—"

"Jerome can kiss my ass. He's already got a victim over there, why can't I have my fun?" Your captor growls back.

Great, so I've been caught by the murderer's crew. What a great way to spend my Friday night.

"Greenwood," the woman says again.

"Just one little bite," the man mumbles under his breath, which brushes your neck as he leans in.

A gunshot goes off as you try to cringe away, and Greenwood howls in pain right by your ear, making you wince as he drops you to the pavement.

"What have I told you, Greenwood? I'm the boss. You don't do anything unless I tell you to," a new voice snaps.

You whimper lowly, rubbing your sore neck as you look up at your rescuer. You freeze as you recognize the man as Jerome Valeska from the news. When the other two mentioned Jerome, you didn't think anything of it, because never in your wildest dreams would you have imagined yourself to be in this situation. But now that you think about it, the name Greenwood does ring a bell in this context.

The red headed maniac locks eyes with your spluttering body on the concrete, a grin forming on his face as he releases a loose chuckle that you link to his earlier one when he'd killed a man somewhere further up.

The psycho approaches you playfully and not a little arrogantly, smirking at your prone form below him as he stops directly in front of you.

"Why hello there, doll face. You must be lost," the man greets, his voice low and husky.

You nod truthfully at his words, as you have absolutely no fucking idea where you are, but you're sure you'll see it on the news tomorrow. If you live that long.

You gulp at this realization and drop your eyes down to his black dress shoes. Peculiar that he'd dress so lavishly to go and murder people.

"Hey!" Jerome protested. "Eyes on me. You look at me when I'm talking to you."

You immediately flip your eyes back to his, making a painful eye contact that makes you feel small, especially in light of your new submissive urge to do exactly as this man says.

Jerome seems to sense your mindset and grins wider, blue eyes scanning your body with a pleased look.

"Stand up, gorgeous," he orders you, and you almost immediately comply, rising to your feet while maintaining eye contact. "What a good girl. What do you think, Babs?"

His eyes move to the woman who must still be behind you. You didn't even realize that Greenwood had stopped groaning and panting in pain. You don't dare turn around and check if he's still breathing.

"Hm... I don't know, J. She looks jumpy. Might be a squealer," the woman replies after a thoughtful hum.

"What do you say to that, doll face? Are you a squealer?" Jerome asks as his gaze returns to rest on your face.

"N-No sir," you stutter.

"Well she's respectful at least," Jerome speculates, gaze returning to Babs.

"I don't know why you're asking me, Jerome. She clearly has no interest in women and she's not my type," Babs sighs. "Besides, I've got Tabby and I doubt she'd like her either."

"Well no need to be rude," Jerome scoffs. "What'd she do to you?"

"For the love of—Jerome, if you want the girl, just fucking take her and let's go. I'll be in the car," Babs shouts, her heels clicking as she storms away.

"Don't worry, gorgeous, I like you. And since you're so lost, you little stray kitten, I'll take you home with me," Jerome grins, and you find yourself smiling faintly at the affection in his eyes.

That doesn't stop you from tensing when he moves closer and picks you up though.

"Calm down, princess. Daddy's going to take marvelous care of you."

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Word Count: 870
Hey I'm back! Not sure how consistent updates are going to be but they should pick up here soon because I'm ending my current fanfic. Vote, comment and stay tuned! Love,
Gingy