//Jerome x Reader.
Summary: Y/n is Oswald Cobblepot’s younger sister; she is the definition of innocence. She helps him with the social stance to negotiating, and is with him while he is trying to negotiate with one of the newest, most hyped criminal. Jerome Valeska.
Warnings: Threats, language, slightly flirtatious Jerome.
Need to know: Set after Jerome’s revival, as he has more power, etc. (Also, I don’t have many revived Jerome fics.)
Title: The Diplomat. //
“Now, listen y/n,” Oswald says as he hobbles towards the gigantic garage door. “I don’t want you to have to do this, but if you do, I’d feel more comfortable if you had this.” He turns to her, pressing a gun to her palm, urging her to take it. Y/n sighs softly, staring down at the sleek black gun.
“I’d rather not, Oz, I think I’ll be fine…I’ve never needed one before.” Y/n says tentatively. Oswald’s head tilts as he stares down at her, and his head shakes, his mouth open slightly.
“Y/n, please do this for me.” Oswald’s eyes searches y/n’s. “These are bad people, y/n. If shit hits the fan, they won’t care who is armed and who isn’t. They’ll shoot you, y/n. So, take the damn gun.” He hated being harsh towards y/n but sometimes he didn’t have a choice. A small, irritated sigh slips past y/n’s lips as she grabs the gun from him, instantly flicking the safety on. Although Oswald knew y/n wasn’t really upset with him, he still felt guilty. He knew she could take care of herself, but it was always more a question of would she. Oswald dusts of his jacket, stands slightly straighter, and knocks his umbrella -which he uses as a cane- against the door five times, then four, and finally one. The door creaks and groans, and then lurches upwards slowly, the whole way squeaking as it rolls up. Oswald motions with his head for everyone else to enter first. They move forward as Oswald does, followed lastly by y/n.
Once she’s in the storage unit, the door closes- much quicker than it had opened. The slightly pale ginger stands up with a flair, his permanent smile widening as he moves forward to greet them.
“Hello, Oswald.” He says, his voice gruff as he stretches out his hand. Y/n moves forward, holding out her hand to shake his too, but his gaze merely stops on her for a second. His eyes light up slightly, and he withdraws his hand.
“Yes, hello.” Oswald says hastily. Jerome’s gaze flicks down to the gun in y/ns hands, and his eyebrows shoot up as he turns over to Oswald, his eyes sparkling as he tilts his head.
“You shouldn’t give toys to little kids; not toys like that,”
“I’m not a kid.” Y/n mumbles, not looking over at him. His eyebrows shoot up even higher as he whirls around to face her.
“Ah, she speaks!” He claps his hands together once, and moves in front of her, staring down at her. “Oswald, what is it that you wanted?” He continues, moving too fast for y/n too keep up. He turns around, spinning in a circle, stopping when he stands in front of him. “Because as you kn-ackaugh.” He pauses, his whole body wrenching as a look of pain crosses his scarred face, his eyes closing tightly. Jerome clears his throat roughly, his body again spasming. He cranes his neck up, arching his back slightly as he stretches his neck, his head rolling from side to side. When his eyes finally do open, they roll over to peer at y/n before he laughs roughly. “Sorry about that- being stabbed in the neck will do that to you.” He taps his wrist, staring down at y/n still. “Why did you take her here?” He moves forward quickly, and a look of panic crosses Oswald’s face. Jerome reaches out, grabbing her chin gently and moving her head up and down, side to side, examining her face. “This isn’t exactly what I was expecting in payment, but…”
“I am not trading you my sister!” Oswald hisses, moving forward violently. One of Jerome’s lackeys moves forward quickly, restraining Oswald as Jerome hops away from y/n, a shrill, loud laugh erupting from him.
“It was a joke,” he wheezes, grasping his sides as he bursts into another fit of rough, high pitched laughter. “Can’tcha take a joke, Oswald?” He grins at him, and holds his hands up quickly. “Look, I’m not here to make enemies.” A short, bubbly laugh flies past his lips once more before all expression leaves his face. His eyes burn as he looks at Oswald and y/n. “Unless you want to make enemies.” He casts his gaze over to y/n once more, smiling brightly. “Hey there, sweet cheeks. Be a doll and give me your gun?”
“Don’t talk to her like that Jerome!” Oswald explodes, staring at Jerome, murder written in his eyes.
“Oswald, stop.” Y/n says, holding her arm out in front of him. She steps forward, locking gazes with Jerome as she holds up her gun. His eyes only leave hers every few seconds to look at the gun. “This?” Y/n asks, trying to keep her voice from shaking.
“Yes, that gun. Is there another damn gun would I be talking about?” He growls. Y/n pulls her other arm away from Oswald and holds the gun out to Jerome.
“Just calm down, okay?” She meets his gaze once again. “We don’t want any trouble.”
“Ha! Hard to believe, with your brother over there.” Jerome barks out a laugh, eyeing the gun but not taking it.
“Jerome.” Y/n says firmly. Something about the way she speaks compels Jerome to meet her gaze. “I don’t want any trouble, Jerome.” She moves forward, grabbing Jerome’s hands. At this point, all of his followers are tense, fingers on their triggers. Y/n nudges Jerome’s hands open gently, placing the gun in them. He stares down at her, his eyes darkening as he grips on to one of her wrists tight, tossing the gun across the room with his other.
“You’re brave for someone so quiet.” Despite all the angry noises coming from Oswald, Jerome reaches out and strokes y/n’s cheek. “So, gentle,” he murmurs, every feature on his face softening. As y/n feels herself getting lost in Jerome’s eyes, her heart pounds quickly.
“And you don’t seem very dangerous for the most infamous criminal in Gotham.” She comments, tilting her head so his hand is cupping her face more, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. “But, you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. Right?”
Jerome pulls away from her, his whole-body stiffening. “That’s exactly right, doll.” He waves his hand in the air. “Just, do whatever you’d like, Oswald. We can team up whenever, you need a favor, I’m your guy, you need supplies; I’m your guy. Take whatever you want now, we can just get more.” Oswald’s jaw drops open, and one of Jerome’s followers turn to him.
“Bu- but Jerome, are you-” His voice is silenced by the bang of a bullet as it sinks through his skull. Jerome stares at his gun in shock, as if he hadn’t known it was loaded, and then tosses it aside carelessly. He turns back to y/n one more time.
“Do me a favor,” he says softly. “Don’t trust anyone but your brother. He’ll take care of you, he’ll keep you safe.”
“Well, can’t I trust you?”
“No. Come to think of it, I don’t want you coming around here again.”
“Well, why not? Maybe I want to come down here some more.” Jerome swallows roughly.
“I can’t have you around me. You’re going to stay away from me.”
“I don’t have to do what you say.” Y/n says, easily getting fed up with his sudden coldness towards her. “You barely even know me, what’s your deal?”
“I know that I’ll like you, y/n. I know that I’ll love you, in fact. That can’t happen, y/n. It can’t.
“Maybe I want it to happen,” she calls out, shocking Jerome and Oswald. They both turn to look at her, jaws slack.
“It can’t! When people like me, like your brother, when we care about people, they get used as leverage. Your brother let you out of the house much?”
“My point exactly. If people knew he cared for you, knew he was your sister…you’d be dead in an instant, doll.” Jerome laughs, and turns around. “So, I’ll say it again; you aren’t coming back around here. Oswald, get her out of here.”
As y/n leaves, she makes a silent promise to herself.
She will visit him again.
She wants to see him again, and they’ve only just met. She’s already infatuated.