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fangirl--writes · 6 years ago

Text

Safe- PreSpray Jeremiah x Reader

Summary: Reader is a bartender at the Saint Street Club, when un-expected events force the entertainment to cancel, they are asked to fill in. Unaware of the attention they’ll draw from and the comfort they’ll bring to one, Jeremiah Valeska.

**Song Fic “I'm a Mess, Issues”- Bebe Rexha & Julia Michaels Mashup By Madilyn Bailey

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=432Rk2nhYEE

Y/N- Your name

Words: 2’441

This is a work of fiction based on the FOX series Gotham by Bruno Heller

Notes: Hopefully I can get another fanfic up by Christmas or a few days after. That S5 trailer makes me so excited for the new season.

Feedback is super important to me and I’d love to hear from you guys!

Enjoy!

*************************************

It was a busy night. The streets were crowded with people tonight as you jostled around behind the bar of the small club.

You half listened to the chatter as you wiped down your station the city was rattled as the crew that’d broken out of Arkham a few weeks ago took over the music festival down town; images you’d seen flickering on T.V. flashed before your eyes, quickly you shook them away hearing you name being called from the back wall.

“Y/n-

Kid, C’mere!”

Your co-worker nudged your shoulder gently as he prepared a drink, you hastily threw down your cleaning rag and weaved haphazardly through the growing crowd of patrons meeting your frazzled and frantic manager, a brick wall of a man who towered over you and most of your co-workers; a frozen smile was plastered on his face as he ushered you over, his large hand brushed your back as he quickly lead you back stage.

Normally he was well mannered and cool, dressed to the nines; a hardy laugh rolling through the bar was the usual as he watched over the staff, rolling with the punches of the packed Friday night crowds, but tonight your burly boss was like gelatin; a sight you personally had never seen.

The smile dropped from his face when the two of you were a ways from the other crew.

A thin layer of sheen glistened on his forehead under the dim lights, anxiously drumming his hands on the clipboard clamped in his sweaty palms.

You tried to remain calm as you greeted him.

“What’s up San?”

“I need you to perform tonight-“Your eyes went wide breathe hitching in your throat as he blurted out his next sentence.

“The headliner didn’t show and she’s on in 15. S-something happened today at the music festival and her and the other performers refuse to come into work.

Your mind flashed back to earlier in the night, a group of wait staff were huddled around in gossip over the day’s events, a “Legion of Horribles” took over the annual music festival downtown and held the crowd hostage until the captain of the GCPD had a standoff with the leader of the little ragtag group, resulting in his untimely demise.

You vaguely remember them mentioning the name Jerome Valeska, a man who had died and taken Gotham more times then you could count, doubting he’d be dead for long you simply rolled your eyes at their little circle; Gotham changes hands every day, a small shootout and death rarely made the papers anymore.

“Please, Y/N, you know I wouldn’t ask if we weren’t desperate…” his voice was low in a hushed whisper

“I.. just-I don’t know.” You ran a quivering hand through your hair, playing for a small group of friends, no problem. At a family gathering, easy peasy, but never have you played in a public venue. You’d toyed with the idea of playing the music festival and you were suddenly glad you chickened out this year.

“Al’s got the bar, just one performance. “

He was practically on his knees begging-

“We need something to keep these people from making their own entertainment,” He gestured to the waiting crowds beyond the curtain-

The last time guests made their own amusement you spent the night cleaning up broken bottles and various body fluids.

“Just until we can get the band here?”

You let out an exasperated sigh ringing your hands together as you watched the filing tables from backstage; the stools at the bar were packed, your co- workers rushing back and forth to keep glasses sliding as the waitress’ darted between tables with drinks.

You glanced over at the piano on stage, only one song came to mind. It wasn’t something one would normally play at a bar like this. Your little corner club wasn’t as grandeur as the illustrious Sirens, but it was a place where alcohol flowed and worries were forgotten, so it would have to do.

“What ya’ say kid?” You could hear the faint tremble in your managers’ voice as he pulled your attention from the forgotten instrument on stage.

Hesitantly you held in a breath and nodded quickly a pair of large arms wrapping around your form to lift you into a spinning hug.

“You are the best Y/N!” Your manager exclaimed quickly setting you back down as he recomposed himself.

“Can you be ready in 10?” With a quick nod you mentally cursed yourself for agreeing to this as he pushed you toward the dressing rooms.

“Thanks Kid!”

You felt your heart skyrocket, pounding in your ears haphazardly as the door of dressing space slammed shut. Your back met the door as you dug your nails into the chipping wood.

This is crazy Y/N

You’re crazy

You’d rather clean the men’s bathroom on a Saturday then publicly perform. What if you freeze?

Imagining all the frozen eyes analyzing your every move, every breath, every possible mistake made your stomach knot.

You could still back out-

Fake a cough, the flu, anything to get you, out of this disaster plan.

You steadied yourself, pulling a spare dress off the rack in the corner quickly changing out of your uniform and over to the vanity; you’re shaking hands fighting against you as you hastily applied a layer of mascara and a cover of blush.

A swift knock caused you to jump, the mascara tumbling to the table in a quiet clatter.

“Y/N? –

Show time Kiddo!”

San’s burly voice reached through the door, the hairs on your arms rose as you hugged yourself staring down your reflection in the grubby mirror, your palms going to clutch the hem of your sparkled attire.

You can do this

Just one song and you’re done.

Taking in a breath you turned, legs like gelatin as you made your way out of the small room.

“It’s all set for ya’” He placed a reassuring hand one your lace covered shoulder; your eyes catching a glimpse of the filled tables and crowded bar from behind the curtain. Your eyes lingered at the bar, flickering through the faces going un- noticed by all except one with a pair of striking green eyes and a bout’ of red hair. Quickly you threw your eyes toward the stage embarrassed-

Your gaze lingered on the piano that had been moved toward the center; muttering a few choice curses at your boss and his overzealous approach to capture the crowds. With a quiet exhale you un-clenched your fist and slipped out from the side.

The hot stage lights blared on your form as you took your seat at the bench, moving a stray hair from your eyes you gently tested the tune. Hesitantly your eyes flicked back to your manager who gave an encouraging nod, hoping maybe this was just a joke… a very cruel joke.

No one paid mind to you on the stage. You casted weary gaze toward the ceiling letting out an anxious breath before pressing down on the smooth keys.

Just one song.

The soft medley flowed through the room, slowly overtaking the chatter at the bar as the hall filled with your voice.

“Everything's been so messed up here lately Pretty sure ya’ don't wanna be my baby”

“Oh, he don't love me, he don't love me He don't love me, he don't love me But that's okay- 'Cause I love me, yeah, I love me Yeah, I love me Yeah, I love myself anyway

Heeey”

You looked up briefly meeting a few dozen curious eyes, your heart skipped as you continued.

“Everything's gonna be alright Everything's gonna be okay It's gonna be a good, good, life That's what my therapist say Everything's gonna be alright Everything's gonna be just fine It's gonna be a good, good life”

This wasn’t the typical sound of the bar; the mood seemed to shift as the more eyes you pulled on stage. The rowdy atmosphere melted into a quiet buzz and the club seemed to still under your playing.

The tense tight knot in your stomach began to unravel, your palms relaxed under the faint pink lights as you nodded along with your sound.

I'm a mess, I'm a loser I'm a hater, I'm a user I'm a mess for your love, it ain't new I'm obsessed, I'm embarrassed I don't trust no one around us I'm a mess for your love, it ain't new

I got issues- And one of them is how bad I need ya’ ”

You looked up again the sea of bodies melting together as a pair of eyes captured your attention momentarily at the bar, a pair of green eyes lingered behind a pair of thick frames.

The same eyes that’d you’d met peeking backstage. They were bright, brilliant and completely captivated by your performance.

You do shit on purpose You get mad and you break things Feel bad, try to fix things

This afternoon’s events reeled fresh in his mind, cycling endlessly like a broken tape; the images of Jerome flashed before Jeremiah’s eyes, the grip on the cold glass in his hands tightened as he squeezed the frigid drink.

Constant laughter poisoned his ears, as he forced down another shot of burning liquid trying to quell the incessant voices that plagued his thoughts.

As he waved for another the stream of images froze, paused by a soft voice that reached to him from the stage; slowly it rose up, drowning the damned laugh that was seared in his memory.

His gaze flickered to toward the sound.

The young gentlemen watched you intently, the glass waiting for him forgotten. He froze as the grimy interior of the space around him seemingly faded away, the lowly muttering around him blocked out by your silky tones and melodies.

Something about you- your presence, your sound, intrigued him, somehow able to draw him out from the dark pressing thoughts of today’s events and managing to momentarily untangle him from the webs of fear and anguish Jerome had ensnared him in long ago. He felt something with you, something he couldn’t name.

But you're perfect Poorly wired circuit And got hands like an ocean Push you out, pull you back in

No, you don't you don’t judge me

Cause if you did, baby, I would judge you too No, you don't-

He tensed as your voice commanded complete control of the room. You were truly breathtaking in your element under the lights. A sweet smile gracing your lips between versus, not a care in the world now as you played pouring your heart into every note.

You don’t judge me 'Cause you see it from the same point of view

'Cause I got issues But you got 'em too So give 'em all to me And I'll give mine to you

The crowded scene around you had vanished, the faces dissolved away you were enveloped in your own little world at the piano. The tension in your body has disappeared under the stage lights. Your hands electric as you pressed the keys, voice building up to the heavens, but your eyes couldn’t help wonder back to the bar.

Bask in the glory of all our problems 'Cause we got the kind of love It takes to solve 'em

Cause’ I'm a mess for your love, it ain't new-

Jeremiah felt your eyes cross his path once more; you’d noticed him from your perch on the stage.

The normally cool masked engineer felt himself blush under your quick glance, a flush of heat rushed to his cheeks as a nervous gasp passed his lips. He felt his lips turn up in the corners as he watched you. His years of solid schooling and isolation had left him mal-nourished in ways of affection and the heart. Could it be-?

I’ve got issues you got 'em too

No… Perhaps it was your air of innocence that quelled Jeremiah’s troubled mind. A quality rather rare in the foul plagued city, he didn’t understand it. Or perhaps-

Cause I got issues-

You got 'em too I'm a mess for your love, it ain't new-

Bask in the glory of all our problems

I'm a mess for your love, it ain't new-

'Cause I got issues

You drew a quick breath as you finished the last strokes, eyes closed in ecstasy you savored the last of the lyrics

And one of them is how bad I need you”

A wave of applause erupted pulling your mind back into the darkened space; the various voices of your co-workers mingled together cheering you on from the floor. You sat on the bench for a moment, hand raise cover your mouth as you bit back tears completely stunned and in awe at the past few minutes.

You caught the eye of your burly supervisor who motioned for you to stand as he slipped out from behind the velvety curtains.

Gently you pulled yourself up, stepping away from the piano as he stepped up beside you-

“Ladies and Gentlemen, our very own Siren of Saint Street: Y/N L/N!”

You shot raised brow and a sideways glance at his enthusiastic appeal to the audience as you dipped your head mouthing a series of thank yous gazing out into the crowd before the two of you backing into the wing of the stage.

Jeremiah savored the last sliver of your voice as it hung in the air, drinking in your form as you stood, noting the faint shake of your hands, bowing, accepting the roar of applause. The way you nibbled your bottom lip as you overlooked the crowd.

It was entirely pure, a welcome distraction to the day’s events.

His eyes lingered on the empty platform where you had stood the dull chatter at the bar resumed Jeremiah’s eyes flickered toward the end of the counter as he overheard mention of your performance.

“She was amazing, did you know? - One of the waitress leaned over the counter

The bartender shook his head as he collected empty glasses “No- Well, I mean I knew Y/N could sing, but I’d never heard her until now I don’t think anyone had.”

Y/N

The name rolled in Jeremiah’s mind as he pictured your face-

Exquisite.

He downed the last bit of amber liquid, shuttering at the bitter taste as he stood collecting himself.

With a quick motion he placed a bill on the counter, preparing himself for the tasks at hand.

Outside the air was cold and brisk; a storm was brewing in the clouds above as Jeremiah slipped into a waiting car. As he pulled away glancing into the rear view mirror he knew why he couldn’t look away, why he was in awe, how you pushed away every dark could for those few measly minutes…

Safe-

He felt safe with you.

And now he wanted nothing more than to feel that way again.

This would not be the last time he visited Saint Street.

#jeremiah valeska #jeremiah valeska imagine #jeremiah x reader #jeremiah valeska x reader #gotham x reader #gotham imagine #gotham fanfiction #Gotham #x reader #Feedback is appreciated #thanks for reading

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