yurmomsawh0r

[yurmomsawh0r]

I LOVE HIM

it's 12:40 am, and i'm not ovulating, but i had thoughts, and now i'm wet 😞 pls enjoy rough sex with sylus 😩

cw: 18+, spitting in mouth, pussy slapping, overstimulation

Your legs kick out when Sylus bottoms out in you for the fifth time. You try to shove at his shoulders, but your hands are weak and trembling, barely managing a push.

A sharp thrust has your eyes rolling back, and another has your legs attempting to close around his waist. But one of his large hands grabs hold of one of your legs to spread it wide, leaving you stretched and open. Then he's fucking you mercilessly, the head of his cock hitting your cervix as a ring of frothy cream forms around the base of his cock.

He leans down to kiss your open mouth, fucking his tongue in its warmth while you let out muffled whines. Then he's grasping your cheeks between his thumb and index fingers, making sure your mouth remains open. He spits directly onto your tongue, does it one more time and watches, pleased, as you automatically swallow it down.

His hand slips down to your throat, applying enough pressure to render you dizzy as he continues to pound your soaking cunt. He notes how it spasms around him, how it eagerly pulls him in further and how it's still so fucking tight after five rounds.

Fuck, it's perfect.

You're perfect.

There's a sudden knock on the door followed by a voice.

"Sir, your clients are ready for you."

A rough thumb to your swollen clit has you cumming with a scream, head shaking while you squirt so hard on Sylus' cock, forcing it out from the pressure. Sylus groans lowly, leaves your clit alone in favour of slapping your oversensitive pussy, causing you to cry as you arch away from it. But Sylus drag you back, slaps your cunt again before stretching you wide on his cock again.

You're drooling, toes curling and nails dragging over his clothed back.

It's paradise.

"Five minutes." is all Sylus says, aiming to flood your poor pussy with his cum one more time.

[yurmomsawh0r]

A lot of you were craving a scratched-back Sylus. So here you go, fellow Kittens! 🤭 ♥️

I'am a scratcher. 💅🏻

Yes, my ovaries did a backflip after this. 🙈

[yurmomsawh0r]

I know I said I quit but u need to get this little Drabble off my mind 😩🫩

“Baby please let me touch”

Your boyfriend was hovering over you, on your shared bed, spreading your legs for you, and all while he couldn’t do anything but look.

His hands were sliding up and down your quaking thighs begging for a feel, a taste, anything.

“Mhm-mhp Eren no”

You look up at his face he’s pleading with eyes.

He knows you said don’t touch just watch you abuse you pussy until your creaming around your fingers, and he really thought he could do it.

But the way your pussy was squelching around your own digits and you thumb effortlessly rubbing your sensitive clit, oh and that face.

That beautiful doll-like face was looking so fucked out and so ready too cum, yea he couldn’t keep his promise at all.

“I can’t baby you’re begging me touch you” he was actually begging you with his hands rubbing faster on your thighs as he spoke. “I just wanna touch it baby cmon let me touch this needy pussy”

And you so desperately wanted to say no, just stand your ground and make him accept his punishment, but you also wanted him to touch you.

“Y-you can control yourself?”

“Yes baby I won’t do to much and I won’t lick”

and you know this won’t be true considering the fact that he’s not even looking you in the eye, but instead starting at the way your creme was oozing out onto your fingers. He didn’t even sound an inch of convincing.

“P-promise baby”

“I promise ma, can I touch?” He finally looks up at you with those puppy eyes

You move his hand to create space for his.

“Go ahead”

When his 2 fingers entered you, it created a fullness that you couldn’t reach.

He was forcing your legs open while digging you out with his hands. It had you already about to come undone for him.

“Huf-f-fuck!”

Barely able to form a coherent sentence he was in you so good your mind was running blanks.

The more the moans poured out of you, the more Eren babbled arrogant bullshit.

“Yea? You feel good mama? I told you just let me make you nut”

“Haven’t even been in you for 5 fucking minutes and you’re already about to cum all over my fingers”

“Mhm give it to me, I love this slutty little pussy, it’s mine? Tell me it’s mine baby”

Still unable to speak you squeal and nod your head and look up at him grabbing his wrist

He didn’t need words to know what you were implying

“Go ahead baby cum for me”

[yurmomsawh0r]

It’s so hard when your stuck in the process of getting it down but definitely CELEBRATE YOUR SMALL AND BIG WINS

[yurmomsawh0r]

Bad Little Bunny🐰🃏💘

Take your pick of which Joker you’d like! Joker x reader fic, Unhinged joker, bold reader, p n v sex, MDNI, violence, abuse, smut, I will add more later!

Part 3 - part 4 coming soon

The door slammed shut behind them.

Winter kicked again as Joker shoved her into the back seat of a long black car — not a limo, not a town car, something in between. The leather was purple. The air smelled like blood and cologne.

She scrambled upright, hair wild, jacket half-off, breathing hard.

“You’re a fucking psycho,” she spat.

Joker tilted his head, smiling like he’d just won a prize at the carnival. He didn’t respond right away. Just leaned back into the plush seat, one ankle resting on his knee, fingers tapping against his thigh like he was keeping time with a song only he could hear.

“Say it again,” he murmured.

Winter narrowed her eyes. “You’re. A. Psycho.”

He grinned wider. “Mmm. Music.”

Then his smile dropped.

“Now shut the fuck up before I make Gibbs pull this car over and cut out your tongue.”

Winter went still. Her jaw clenched, chest heaving.

“You think you can just walk away from me?” he continued, voice low, teeth flashing. “Go play dress-up for Rico Salas? That greasy little coke rat?”

“I didn’t have a choice,” she snapped.

Joker laughed. A sharp, sudden noise. Then he leaned forward, elbow on his knee, pointing a gloved finger at her like she was a bug on a pin.

“Wrong,” he said. “You did have a choice. And you made the wrong one, sugarplum.”

“I got fired!” she hissed. “You had me blacklisted!”

He smiled again. “That was just a suggestion. You made it permanent when you got on stage tonight and pretended you weren’t mine.”

Winter rolled her eyes. “I’m not your fucking pet.”

Joker’s face shifted. Just a flicker. Something meaner in his eyes.

“No,” he said softly. “You’re not. Pets get pampered. You? You get punished.”

She scoffed. Looked out the window. “You’re insane.”

He reached out — fast — and grabbed her jaw, turning her head sharply to face him.

“You’re coming back to my club. You’ll work my stage. You’ll wear what I fucking say and smile when I say smile. Or I’ll make sure you don’t work again — anywhere — ever.”

Winter stared at him, teeth gritted.

“I’ll burn every club in Gotham to the ground before I let another man touch you again.”

His voice was calm. Too calm. Like a lullaby made of knives.

The car turned a corner. She didn’t even know where they were going anymore.

“You really think this’ll work?” she asked. “You can just scare me into crawling back?”

Joker smiled, but there was no joy in it.

“I don’t need to scare you,” he said. “I just need time.”

She looked away.

And he let her.

The car kept moving, tires humming like tension under her skin.

Outside, Gotham blurred past in shades of red and rot.

Inside, Joker just watched her — like she was a puzzle he already knew how to solve.

They were parked in front of The Purple Room by the time Joker spoke again.

Rain tapped against the roof like ticking bombs.

“You start again on Friday,” he said simply, eyes still on her. “New set. New outfit. I want fire. I want blood.”

Winter turned her head slow, like she was processing a joke she didn’t quite find funny.

“You want what?”

“You heard me.”

“And if I don’t?”

He looked at her, all calm menace. “Then I come find you again. And next time, I bring a leash.”

Winter gave a soft, dry laugh. “You’re a fucking lunatic.”

Joker just leaned in, close enough for her to smell his cologne — dark, spicy, and wrong.

“Friday,” he said again, brushing a gloved hand against her thigh like punctuation.

Winter smiled.

A soft, fake little thing.

“Fine,” she said. “Friday.”

She got out of the car before he could say another word.

Didn’t slam the door. Didn’t run.

Just walked.

Back inside The Purple Room, she went straight to the dressing room, grabbed her shit, nodded once at Teah, and disappeared out the back.

She never came back.

Three days later.

Winter stood behind the counter of Manny’s All-Night Diner, her hair tied up in a red scarf, apron stained with syrup and cigarette smoke. The night shift was quiet. Drunks and deadbeats. She didn’t mind.

It was clean.

Normal.

Safe.

When a man asked for extra sugar, she smiled. When someone left a tip in quarters, she said thank you. Her boots didn’t click anymore. She didn’t wear lashes. Her stage name was gone.

Now it was just Winter.

And she liked it that way.

She hadn’t danced once. Not since that night.

Not since him.

He scared her.

But more than that…

He pissed her off.

[yurmomsawh0r]

endo loves when you’re mean to him !

one thing about endo yamato is that he didn’t mind being dragged around, especially when it comes to you. so whenever you’re mean to him, being demanding, or yelling at him because of some small, stupid reason, he’ll always have a grin on his face, secretly enjoying your attitude.

one thing though, is that he doesn’t hide how he feels at all. so you could clearly tell he was getting off on your anger, especially when you could see the tent forming in his pants.

but all that anger would dissipate with the rest of your common sense when he fucks you so dumb, pounding into you like there was no tomorrow. “you still mad at me, baby?” he asked, grabbing a fistful of your hair before tugging on it lightly.

“hnn, yamato! want more—ah!” he didn’t even hesitate, driving deeper into you, hitting your sweet spot over and over again, sending sparks throughout your body until you saw stars. “forgive me, baby. hm? i’ll be good.” his tone may sound sweet, but the way he’s rutting into you says otherwise with the sound of skin slapping and moaning filling the room.

“‘m close, yamato—gonna cum—!” your arms gave out as your gummy walls fluttered around his cock, falling forward as your body shook. he wrapped a hand around your neck and lifted you up, tilting your head to kiss you. you moaned into his mouth as you came, squirting all over him and the bed.

“still mad?” he asked with a cheeky smile, holding you as you came down from your orgasm. “what do you think?” you replied, panting as you tried to catch your breath, your walls still pulsing around his throbbing and annoyingly large cock that was still inside you as both of your juices leaked out.

“i think… that we should go for another round.” and before you could respond, he was already thrusting into you again, not sparing you a second to keep up with his pace. but he did indeed get a scolding when you both were done.

oh look, guess who’s hard again?

© lucidsei

[yurmomsawh0r]

I want to test if Tumblr will deny this post or not

[yurmomsawh0r]

Bad Little Bunny🐰🃏💘

Take your pick of which Joker you’d like! Joker x reader fic, Unhinged joker, bold reader, p n v sex, MDNI, violence, abuse, smut, I will add more later!

Part 2, repost appreciated! (Part 3 coming soon)

The line outside The Purple Room curled around the corner like a velvet snake. Cameras flashed.

Someone in a coat that probably cost more than Winter’s rent brushed past her, laughing too loud.

She adjusted the strap on her thigh-high boots and stepped up to the front door, her ID in hand, jacket draped over one shoulder, face beat like war paint.

Tattoo-face bouncer saw her coming and immediately shifted. He turned his back.

Winter frowned. “Excuse me?”

The other bouncer — younger, broader — cleared his throat and stepped slightly into her path.

“You’re not on the list tonight.”

Winter laughed once, incredulous. “I don’t need to be on the list. I work here.”

He didn’t flinch. “Not anymore.”

Her smile dropped.

“Say that again?”

“I said you don’t work here.”

She looked past him to the glass doors. Through them, she could see the foyer, red-lit and busy.

Music pulsed through the floors. She recognized the coat check girl. She waved. The girl looked away fast, face folding like paper.

Winter’s voice dropped. “You serious right now?”

The bouncer gave a single, apologetic shrug — the kind that didn’t mean shit.

“I danced here last night. I have clothes inside. My name is—”

“We know who you are,” the other one said, finally turning to face her. His eyes were like marbles.

“And he said no.”

There was a moment. Just static in her ears. Wind from a passing cab rustled her jacket.

Winter stepped back.

“You’re kidding,” she said softly. “Over a dance?”

The bouncer blinked. Didn’t respond.

She shook her head, half-laughing, half in disbelief.

“So that’s how it is? I made him twitch in his seat and now I’m poison?”

No one spoke.

She adjusted her jacket, turned sharply, and walked away without looking back.

The city didn’t blink when you bled.

By midnight, she was in another bar — her heels clacking against slick black tile, smoke curling up from someone’s cigarette.

It wasn’t The Purple Room, but it was a room — loud, grimy, full of men with heavy wallets and heavier sins.

It took her twenty minutes to get the manager’s attention. Another ten to be handed a drink tray and a skimpy dress.

An hour later, she was dancing on a plexiglass cube to industrial techno, with Rico Salas himself watching from the back corner.

She didn’t smile. Didn’t wink.

Not this time.

She just danced.

Two booths over, a man in a long green coat sipped from a wine glass filled with nothing but ice.

He said nothing.

Watched everything.

Then he leaned toward his phone.

“Tell him,” he whispered, licking his teeth,

“our girl’s found herself a new little sandbox.”

One week later.

Winter stepped out from behind the curtain — back arched, lips glossed, bathed in red strobe and sin.

The Scorpion was hotter than The Purple Room, more violent in its energy — no glass chandeliers here, just exposed iron and sweat. The crowd was dirtier, hungrier.

She liked it more than she’d admit.

Her boots hit the stage in rhythm. Her body moved slow. She didn’t wink anymore. She didn’t tease.

She commanded.

Rico Salas watched from his corner booth, drink untouched. He never touched her. Never offered.

But his eyes followed her like a laser sight, and the way he smiled when she took her bow made some of the girls whisper.

Winter didn’t care. Let them talk.

She’d made it through exile. She’d made it through him.

Or so she thought.

It was just past 1:12 AM when the air changed.

The front doors slammed open — not pushed. Ripped.

People turned. A few stood. One man in the crowd muttered, “Oh, shit.”

In strolled him.

Joker.

Green hair slicked back, a long crocodile coat swaying with each step. White shirt, collar open, two buttons missing. No tie.

Gold grill catching the light when he smiled — and he was smiling.

The kind of smile you give a locked door right before you kick it in.

Behind him came five men, dressed in dark suits, walking like wolves.

Rico stood slowly from his booth, one brow raised.

“Well,” he said aloud. “We weren’t expecting you.”

Joker didn’t even look at him.

His eyes were already locked on the stage.

Winter had frozen at the edge of her dance — one knee bent, hand behind her head.

The music still played. But the moment was still.

He walked right through the club like he owned it.

Sat in the middle of the front row like a king in the dirt.

“Don’t stop, sweetheart,” he said, voice loud enough to carry, full of that jagged sugar. “I came for the show.”

Winter’s mouth opened, but no sound came. Her chest was tight, but her eyes — her eyes stayed locked on his.

Not scared.

Not quite.

She turned back to the pole. Finished her spin.

Slower now.

She could feel the heat of his stare in her spine.

Back at the bar, Rico whispered something to one of his men. The man didn’t move.

“No guns,” Rico muttered. “Not yet.”

Winter finished her song.

The lights dimmed.

Before she could exit stage left, he was on the stage.

No one saw him move. Just blinked, and he was there — beside her, grinning wide, one gloved hand resting on her lower back.

The room held its breath.

“Now, normally,” Joker said casually to the crowd,

“I’m a patient man. I give people space. Freedom.”

He looked down at her. “But you, sugarplum, you walked outta my house like it was just some hotel.”

Winter swallowed. “You threw me out.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Details.”

Then — he grabbed her.

Lifted her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing, a sack of diamonds and nerve.

The club exploded. Chairs scraped. Voices shouted. Someone stood — and then quickly sat again when Joker’s men all reached into their jackets in unison.

Rico rose from his booth, palms out.

“Put her down, clown.”

Joker laughed so loud the room flinched.

“She’s mine,” he said cheerfully. “Was just borrowing her. Can’t have my toys wandering off — they get dirty.”

Winter, upside down, smacked her fist against his back. “Put me down, you green-haired freak!”

He patted her ass like a drum. Kissed it through the leather.

“Shh. Daddy’s talkin’.”

He turned to Rico. “Don’t worry. I left you a tip.”

Then he tossed a single gold tooth onto the stage.

The room went silent.

Winter kicked.

Joker threw his head back and laughed as he carried her straight out the front door — whistling all the way.

-

@ch1hvro only bc you said you’d give me your soul🥰

[yurmomsawh0r]

[yurmomsawh0r]

[yurmomsawh0r]

Soft Dom Gojo x Virgin Reader??

So I’ve never written a soft dom before so bare with me 🤣

A/n - 08/04/25 OMG Sorry this is so late. I literally forgot to post it. It was sitting in my drafts!

Soft Dom!Gojo x Virgin!Reader

Explicit content, MDNI, Gojo being so tender and sweet, Blood (popping that cherry!), slight pain, p n v, pet names (Let me know if I miss anything else!)

~

He was like a dream. A perfect dream. The heat of his body above yours with his crystal blue eyes staring right back into yours. Whispering sweet nothings to you.

Telling you how soft you are, how much he loves you. His kisses you every-time you flinch from him trying to enter you.

He was too big, you were nervous that it was going to hurt. You knew I would and that’s not what bothered you. It was the vulnerability of giving yourself away. Even though you loved him and you trust him with all your money you were just scared this moment wouldn’t last forever.

“Are you ready?” He asked you. You gave a small nod as a tiny tear trickle down the side of your face. He kissed it away, then trailing those kisses right back up to your lips. “Take a deep breath, baby.”

You did as he said, staring at his eyes as he pushed in deeper a gasp, leaving your lips, feeling the tight of your entrance being spread open. He was thick and grey. It was also hot and warm.

“Ow!” You couldn’t help but call out as he dived deeper into your nether region. “I’m sorry, baby just a little bit more, sweetheart.” he gave one final thrust holding you tightly as you tried to jerk away from him. He was fully seated in you. A fullness that you never experienced before.

As you guys stay like that with him holding you in his arms, he trailed kisses across your neck and up your sweet spot. Trying to do his best to distract you from all the pain that you were feeling.

Even slight movements caused you to gasp and you started to feel something trickle down to your ass cheeks and onto the bed. No doubt a little bit of blood, but that was normal. After a while, those tiny bits of movements started to make you crave more and more.

On his own, Gojo started to move to test the waters, listening to you for accuses of pain or pleasure. At first, you were silent, just tense, holding your breath, but the more he moved and the deeper and longer his stroke got it started to feel good.

Soon the gasp of pain started being on the gasp of pleasure of an unknown intensity full of tension that you couldn’t control anything that left your lips.

With ease, he moved a little faster, telling you how you were such a good girl, saying how wet and tight you are.

The both of your rhythms started to get harder. Your breath’s coming out rapidly as you started to move his name with every thrust that felt good. He rubbed against your walls perfectly. You fit him perfectly like a glove. He never wanted to leave your warm depths.

Today was just about you and him, connecting deeper on a level that lovers go when they are ready to become intimate with one another.

“You feel so goood Satoru!” You couldn’t help with yell out at a particular thrust, this encouraged him. He slipped his hands underneath your knee and push pushing your legs back just a little more to an angle himself deeper.

Now this gave him a nice view of everything your beautiful face your tits that he love to suck on and the way his dick was thrusting in and out of your pussy.

Yea he never wanted to leave, he would cherish this forever💕

[yurmomsawh0r]

To my last two requesters (🐻 and Anon) for some reason when request to get sent to me it glitches and I’m not able to edit the post so can you guys try to resend the request or if not just be on the lookout for it because I have them done and I don’t wanna post it without you guys being able to know so try to send it to me one more time please!

[yurmomsawh0r]

SO. Just downloaded Love and DeepSpace! Watched a few videos and I came to say. Such a GREAT otome

[yurmomsawh0r]

New story✨

Bad Little Bunny 🐰🃏💘

Take your pick of which Joker you’d like! Joker x reader fic, Unhinged joker, bold reader, p n v sex, MDNI, violence, abuse, smut, I will add more later!

Part 1, Repost are appreciated!❤️

The city was ugly in the rain — all ratty steam vents and sodium-orange streetlights flickering like dying embers. But The Purple Room rose out of the grime like a hallucination.

Winter stood across the street, umbrella half-broken, staring up at the violet glow spilling out over the sidewalk. People lined up in backless dresses and crocodile-skin shoes. Every one of them carried something sharp in their posture — money, drugs, danger. And all of them were being watched by two men in black leather jackets and purple ties at the entrance. One had a face tattoo of a laughing mouth stretching across his jaw.

She crossed the street anyway.

Inside, everything smelled like incense and sweat and something floral and faintly metallic. There were chandeliers made of bones, booths made of velvet, and music — low and filthy — pulsing out of the floors. The crowd shimmered and shifted like snakes. Women walked by in gold lingerie and diamond-pinned garters. A girl danced in a birdcage suspended above the bar.

Winter held her coat closed, heart thudding steady.

Not afraid. Just alert.

“Winter?” came a voice behind her.

She turned to see a tall, dark-skinned woman in a red robe and patent leather boots. Her face was flawless — contoured to kill — with eyes lined so sharp they could’ve drawn blood.

“I’m Teah,” she said. “You’re the new girl!”

“That obvious?”

“You’re not sweating yet. Come on.”

Teah walked her through a hallway lit with red sconces. Gold doors lined the walls. The air smelled like gun oil and spilled champagne.

“Rules are simple,” Teah said. “You serve the tables, you dance when booked, you keep your mouth shut. Don’t flirt with the guests unless they pay. And don’t flirt with him.”

Winter raised a brow. “Him?”

Teah stopped walking and gestured upward.

There was a second floor, ringed in tinted glass. Behind it, a shadow leaned back in a velvet booth. He wasn’t moving. But he was watching.

Winter caught a glimpse — green hair, pale face, red smile that didn’t move.

“The Joker,” Teah said under her breath. “He owns the place. Owns all of this. He’ll smile at you, maybe laugh. But that doesn’t mean he likes you. Trust me.”

Winter nodded, but her eyes lingered a moment too long before turning away.

Later, in the dressing room, Winter sat in front of the mirror. Girls came and went, fixing lashes, adjusting straps, laughing with the brittle edge of people who’d seen too much too young.

“You ain’t scared?” one girl asked, watching her lace up her boots.

Winter gave a shrug. “Scared of what? I’ve worked worse clubs.”

Another girl leaned in, eyes wide. “You’ve never worked this.”

Winter looked at her reflection. Her lipstick was perfect. Her smile was real.

She stood, pulled on her gloves, and walked toward the floor like she already belonged.

The crowd had already started to thicken by 10:45.

Glasses clinked. Low chuckles rumbled through velvet booths. A man with a scar running through his eyebrow passed Winter a thick roll of cash just for refilling his bourbon and calling him Daddy once.

Teah gave her a sly nod across the bar. “Your name’s starting to ring.”

Winter smirked. “Good. Maybe I’ll buy my mama a new transmission.”

Teah’s smile faltered a bit. “You sure you wanna perform tonight? He’s watching.”

Winter glanced upward.

The second-floor booth was cloaked in low, flickering purple light. Joker sat perched like a crow on velvet — not lounging, not drinking. Just watching. Hands clasped in front of his mouth.

That slow, crawling grin barely visible.

“I’m not scared of clowns,” Winter said.

Teah didn’t laugh.

Midnight.

The stage lights came on in a slow, sultry fade.

Smoke machines hissed from the floor. The crowd turned.

Winter stood center stage in high black boots, leather straps wrapping her thighs, and nothing but silver pasties and a jacket hanging loose off her shoulders. Her box braids were pulled up into a high crown. She looked like she’d been sculpted for sin.

The first notes of the song hit — a low, nasty bassline — and she started slow. Rolling her hips, dragging a finger along her neck, dropping low into a split before rising again like smoke. The crowd responded in waves — whistles, groans, the sound of a glass breaking somewhere in the back.

But her eyes weren’t on them.

They were on him.

She danced to the Joker’s booth now, front and center, her movements subtle but intentional — mocking, maybe. One hand mimed pulling the trigger of a fake gun, pointed straight up. A wink. A little bow.

The room caught it. Laughter trickled through the smoke.

Joker didn’t move.

His expression didn’t change. Not once. Just those eyes, pale and glittering like knives in a pond.

Locked on her. Unblinking.

Winter gave a final spin, kicked off one heel, then the other. Dropped to her knees, blew him a kiss.

The crowd erupted.

She left the stage barefoot and breathless, jacket over one shoulder, a grin on her lips.

Later, in the dressing room, Teah burst in.

“You’re insane,” she hissed.

Winter wiped sweat from her collarbone. “He didn’t shoot me. That’s a win.”

Teah didn’t laugh. She looked… tight. Worried.

“He doesn’t like being seen. Mocked. Touched, even from a distance. You think that was just a tease? He doesn’t do normal reactions, Winter.”

Winter raised a brow. “Maybe he enjoyed it.”

“Or maybe he’s deciding what kind of knife he wants to use.”

There was a silence.

Winter shrugged one shoulder. “Then he better pick the sharp one.”

⸻

Two floors up, above the dressing room, Joker stood in front of the one-way mirror.

“She’s cute,” he murmured. “Like a little spark plug.”

Gibbs, behind him, said nothing.

Joker tilted his head. His voice dropped lower.

“I don’t like being made to feel things, Gibby. She did that.”

He dragged a finger across his lips slowly.

“Let’s make sure she doesn’t come back.”

[yurmomsawh0r]

Bad Little Bunny 🐰🃏💘

Take your pick of which Joker you’d like! Joker x reader fic, Unhinged joker, bold reader, p n v sex, MDNI, violence, abuse, smut, I will add more later!

Part 1, Repost are appreciated!❤️

The city was ugly in the rain — all ratty steam vents and sodium-orange streetlights flickering like dying embers. But The Purple Room rose out of the grime like a hallucination.

Winter stood across the street, umbrella half-broken, staring up at the violet glow spilling out over the sidewalk. People lined up in backless dresses and crocodile-skin shoes. Every one of them carried something sharp in their posture — money, drugs, danger. And all of them were being watched by two men in black leather jackets and purple ties at the entrance. One had a face tattoo of a laughing mouth stretching across his jaw.

She crossed the street anyway.

Inside, everything smelled like incense and sweat and something floral and faintly metallic. There were chandeliers made of bones, booths made of velvet, and music — low and filthy — pulsing out of the floors. The crowd shimmered and shifted like snakes. Women walked by in gold lingerie and diamond-pinned garters. A girl danced in a birdcage suspended above the bar.

Winter held her coat closed, heart thudding steady.

Not afraid. Just alert.

“Winter?” came a voice behind her.

She turned to see a tall, dark-skinned woman in a red robe and patent leather boots. Her face was flawless — contoured to kill — with eyes lined so sharp they could’ve drawn blood.

“I’m Teah,” she said. “You’re the new girl!”

“That obvious?”

“You’re not sweating yet. Come on.”

Teah walked her through a hallway lit with red sconces. Gold doors lined the walls. The air smelled like gun oil and spilled champagne.

“Rules are simple,” Teah said. “You serve the tables, you dance when booked, you keep your mouth shut. Don’t flirt with the guests unless they pay. And don’t flirt with him.”

Winter raised a brow. “Him?”

Teah stopped walking and gestured upward.

There was a second floor, ringed in tinted glass. Behind it, a shadow leaned back in a velvet booth. He wasn’t moving. But he was watching.

Winter caught a glimpse — green hair, pale face, red smile that didn’t move.

“The Joker,” Teah said under her breath. “He owns the place. Owns all of this. He’ll smile at you, maybe laugh. But that doesn’t mean he likes you. Trust me.”

Winter nodded, but her eyes lingered a moment too long before turning away.

Later, in the dressing room, Winter sat in front of the mirror. Girls came and went, fixing lashes, adjusting straps, laughing with the brittle edge of people who’d seen too much too young.

“You ain’t scared?” one girl asked, watching her lace up her boots.

Winter gave a shrug. “Scared of what? I’ve worked worse clubs.”

Another girl leaned in, eyes wide. “You’ve never worked this.”

Winter looked at her reflection. Her lipstick was perfect. Her smile was real.

She stood, pulled on her gloves, and walked toward the floor like she already belonged.

The crowd had already started to thicken by 10:45.

Glasses clinked. Low chuckles rumbled through velvet booths. A man with a scar running through his eyebrow passed Winter a thick roll of cash just for refilling his bourbon and calling him Daddy once.

Teah gave her a sly nod across the bar. “Your name’s starting to ring.”

Winter smirked. “Good. Maybe I’ll buy my mama a new transmission.”

Teah’s smile faltered a bit. “You sure you wanna perform tonight? He’s watching.”

Winter glanced upward.

The second-floor booth was cloaked in low, flickering purple light. Joker sat perched like a crow on velvet — not lounging, not drinking. Just watching. Hands clasped in front of his mouth.

That slow, crawling grin barely visible.

“I’m not scared of clowns,” Winter said.

Teah didn’t laugh.

Midnight.

The stage lights came on in a slow, sultry fade.

Smoke machines hissed from the floor. The crowd turned.

Winter stood center stage in high black boots, leather straps wrapping her thighs, and nothing but silver pasties and a jacket hanging loose off her shoulders. Her box braids were pulled up into a high crown. She looked like she’d been sculpted for sin.

The first notes of the song hit — a low, nasty bassline — and she started slow. Rolling her hips, dragging a finger along her neck, dropping low into a split before rising again like smoke. The crowd responded in waves — whistles, groans, the sound of a glass breaking somewhere in the back.

But her eyes weren’t on them.

They were on him.

She danced to the Joker’s booth now, front and center, her movements subtle but intentional — mocking, maybe. One hand mimed pulling the trigger of a fake gun, pointed straight up. A wink. A little bow.

The room caught it. Laughter trickled through the smoke.

Joker didn’t move.

His expression didn’t change. Not once. Just those eyes, pale and glittering like knives in a pond.

Locked on her. Unblinking.

Winter gave a final spin, kicked off one heel, then the other. Dropped to her knees, blew him a kiss.

The crowd erupted.

She left the stage barefoot and breathless, jacket over one shoulder, a grin on her lips.

Later, in the dressing room, Teah burst in.

“You’re insane,” she hissed.

Winter wiped sweat from her collarbone. “He didn’t shoot me. That’s a win.”

Teah didn’t laugh. She looked… tight. Worried.

“He doesn’t like being seen. Mocked. Touched, even from a distance. You think that was just a tease? He doesn’t do normal reactions, Winter.”

Winter raised a brow. “Maybe he enjoyed it.”

“Or maybe he’s deciding what kind of knife he wants to use.”

There was a silence.

Winter shrugged one shoulder. “Then he better pick the sharp one.”

⸻

Two floors up, above the dressing room, Joker stood in front of the one-way mirror.

“She’s cute,” he murmured. “Like a little spark plug.”

Gibbs, behind him, said nothing.

Joker tilted his head. His voice dropped lower.

“I don’t like being made to feel things, Gibby. She did that.”

He dragged a finger across his lips slowly.

“Let’s make sure she doesn’t come back.”

[yurmomsawh0r]

DROP IT 👹

-🐻

The joker fic? I’m thinking about it! Maybe I’ll drop part one!

[yurmomsawh0r]

I have a joker fic, but idk if I want to drop it Epi by Epi or just full on drop in one go. It’s LONG