GOTHAM X READERS

A Lucky Day [Jerome Valeska]

Your father hadn't approved you helping him with taking over Gotham and now he could remind you for the rest of his life about how you should have listened to him. You had been arrested when you had helped in one of the grand thefts which your father had arranged across the city. And now there you were, walking along the hallways in Arkham Asylum with two guards who looked like their ancestors were a lizard and a fish.

"Prisoner Y/N Cobblepot is going to the cell department 3, cell number 34", he said to his radio phone, before he glared at you and grabbed your arm.

"Daddy isn't gonna save you", the other one of the guards whispered to your ear, before he laughed and shoved you into your cell, slamming the door shut. Then they both laughed as they walked away.

You rolled your eyes. You knew perfectly well that "daddy isn't saving you". You had told it to him yourself, you didn't need saving. You didn't want your father to risk everything because of you. And you wouldn't die being here. Yeah, maybe you would have to stand to be around complete maniacs who kill just because they can, but you knew how to handle yourself. So it wasn't a problem.

—

You stared at the roof and counted the tiles for fun, for the thousandth time. It's needless to say that you were bored. You had been in Arkham for two weeks now and your days were identical. You had to wake up at 6am, eat breakfast at 7am, go back to your cell until 11am, eat lunch and then go back to your cell. At 13pm you had to go to the social room, where everyone stared at you, since you were a woman. You just read your magazine and tried to look like you didn't even know they were there.

"Go face the wall, 34", the guard said behind the closed door of your cell and you heard the handcuffs clinging as he took them from his waist. With a huff, you did as you were told. You knew you would get hurt if you didn't obey the orders you were given. Unfortunately, it was time to go to the social room again.

—

You sat on your regular table alone, your legs crossed and a magazine folded in your hands. You saw other inmates staring at you from the corners of your eyes. Every time you stepped into the room, the noise of people laughing and chatting loudly was silenced and it was replaced by whispers - about you, of course.

But this time, something you had waited to happen, happened. Someone of those creeps actually came to talk to you.

"I've been watching you for a while now." Some big and muscular man had shamelessly sat down beside you and now he stared at you with a pair of hungry eyes. You rolled your eyes.

"I've noticed." you said with an ice cold voice and saw how he grinned. He put his hand on your waist and squeezed.

"Hey, you'd better pull that off before you have no hands at all." you raised your eyebrows and turned to look at him in threatening glare.

Your glare softened when you saw his face. It looked like it had been through some hard times.

"Like my face?" he grinned and brought his other hand to rest on your leg. You tilted your head.

"If I liked people who look like someone drove a truck past their face, then yeah."

"C'mon baby, you don't mean that." He grinned again. "We should-"

"Oh no, you shouldn't." You shook your head, before rolling your eyes again. The man was about to say something but someone tapped his shoulder before he could.

"You heard what she said, now get moving, will ya?" you heard another male voice growl and turned to look at the source of the voice. The big guy grumbled, but stood up anyway and stomped to another table again.

To your surprise, your savior wasn't some big, scary man. In fact, he was barely a man, more of a boy with fiery red hair. He looked strangely familiar. You also wondered how he got that big man away from you, but you didn't have much time to think about it properly before he plopped into the seat across you. He grinned at you and pulled his leg to rest on his another leg.

"Hi gorgeous. I'm Jerome. I've heard about you, you're Penguin's daughter, right? I like your style, wanna hang out?"

Partly from his way of talking, you realized it was Jerome Valeska, the boy of your age who killed his mother. And somehow, he managed to intrigue you with his demeanor. You slowly put the magazine on the table and leaned towards Jerome.

"Hi pretty boy. I'm Y/N. And sure, we can hang out. Hey, you know anything fun to do? I've been bored for days and you know, girls should never be bored. It would make this day my new lucky day."

Jerome glanced at the guards at the door and then grinned at you.

"I reckon we can make something up."