where’s bachmeier?

sideblog

[hunnywritesthings]

Introduction!

this is a sideblog mainly for everything I write! find my main at @hunnybabydoll!! (also go look at my intro post on there as well)

Mainly going to be any fanfiction I've written (MIGHT be cross posted to ao3)

CURRENT ONGOING FICS:

Enter: Dirty Girl - Club!Blue x Fem!Reader

Homeward Bound - Llewyn Davis x Fem!Reader

This pinned post will change frequently! (once I start posting stuff :p)

[hunnywritesthings]

You’re a very talented writer, you know that?

Your words just flow so effortlessly and you paint worlds so vividly. It’s beautiful how you write without trying too hard. Even if you do, it still seems so effortless.

I hope you continue to write when you can. You got a fan in me. :)

THANK UUU!!! that means sm to me! im lwk in a dry spell rn for writing but knowing there’s at least a little handful of people rlly helps motivate me :) i love writing thanks to you guys

[hunnywritesthings]

Homeward Bound (ongoing)

I'm sittin' in the railway station / Got a ticket for my destination / On a tour of one-night stands / My suitcase and guitar in hand / And every stop is neatly planned / For a poet and a one-man band

Llewyn Davis x Fem!Reader

ch. 1 click here for this chapter's playlist!

The sight of the scruffy orange cat perched on your windowsill wasn’t an unusual one—in fact, he’d been coming around ever since Llewyn begged you to let him crash on your couch. 

ch. 2 click here for this chapter's playlist!

The small cafe wasn’t packed to the brim, thankfully, but it wasn’t deserted either. Greenwich wasn’t small or quaint or quiet, but this was another level of lively. And there you were, sat like it was completely normal.

ch. 3 click here for this chapter's playlist!

The walk to The Gaslight was nothing unfamiliar to Llewyn, even with the increased crowds roaming the streets of The Village. It seemed like more coffeehouses had popped up, the sound of folk music seeping into the streets as he made his way to the cafe. Shit, what would he even say to you?

[hunnywritesthings]

Homeward Bound (ch.3)

<- ch. 2

I'm sittin' in the railway station / Got a ticket for my destination / On a tour of one-night stands / My suitcase and guitar in hand / And every stop is neatly planned / For a poet and a one-man band

Llewyn Davis x Fem!Reader

author's note: hi! so so so so sooo sorry that i havent posted in so long :( summer break hit hard and suddenly im a fat chud all day but no motivation to write... also i hated part of this chapter so it took me extra long to rewrite itttt.. again most of this will make more sense if you have seen the movie!! i lwk hate the harsh transition of emotions but yk what fuck it WE BALL. Fic title from a song called "Homeward Bound" by Simon & Garfunkel.

word count: 2.9k

content warning: nothing really i can think of (but please lmk if im wrong lol) other than sorta fighting but i mean llewyn's a dick anyways

The walk to The Gaslight was nothing unfamiliar to Llewyn, even with the increased crowds roaming the streets of The Village. It seemed like more coffeehouses had popped up, the sound of folk music seeping into the streets as he made his way to the cafe. Shit, what would he even say to you? Jean’s advice wasn’t that helpful, he wasn’t that stupid to not think to just fucking listen to you. He listened to you plenty, why the hell would you choose now to run? Running was his thing.

Llewyn had already tried banging on your apartment door, but the only response he got was the muffled meow of Ulysses. Where the hell else would you be? The only other place that came to mind was the Gaslight.

So, here he was. Crossing the street and dodging a few people and almost tumbling down the steps of the Gaslight, he cupped his hands and pressed his face close to the glass of the door. Fuck, he wasn’t even sure if he’d be able to get in. Peering inside the dim cafe, it was hard to make out any clear shapes. The only giveaway that there was someone in there was laughter—one he recognized all too well. It was Pappi.

He knocked once, twice, three times, rubbing his clammy hands together as he waited to be let in. It didn’t take long for the door to swing open, Llewyn barely dodging it as he was greeted with the sight of Pappi.

“Llewyn! Long time no see, come in, come in!” Pappi laughs, less than gently patting Llewyn on the shoulder and hauling him inside. Before Llewyn can respond he’s tugged into the Gaslight, the soft chatter and laughter of a few people echoing through the coffee house.

“What brings you back to the Gaslight? Lookin’ for a gig? I’ve got a spot open tonight, courtesy of your little girlfriend,” Pappi nudges Llewyn with his elbow, leaning back against the bar counter with his arms crossed and looking at the few people in the cafe. They were all lingering near the stage, guitars and other instruments in hand, conversing with each other casually.

“She’s not my girlfriend. I don’t do that ‘boyfriend-girlfriend’ shit.”

“Hey, I’m just saying, she certainly talks about you like you're her boyfriend.”

“Stop messing around. I just wanted to see if she was here.”

“Oh yeah, she’s definitely here. Sulking in the back because she got into a fight with her boy-toy,” Pappi leans in and murmurs to Llewyn, a grin tugging at his lips. “What’d you do to her? I don’t see her shaken up this often.”

Llewyn just shook his head, scoffing lightly at Pappi’s almost smug expression. Boy-toy? What the fuck? There’s no way you actually saw him like that. “It’s not that big of a deal. She brought up Mike and I..” Llewyn shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose out of frustration. “I freaked out on her.”

The older man just snorted, uncrossing his arms and patting Llewyn on his shoulder once more.

“She brought up Mikey, huh? Still sour over him?”

“No, no, I just—I don’t understand why the fuck she brought him up. We both said some dumb shit, she said I…”

Llewyn looked over at Pappi, his eyebrows furrowing slightly.

“Do you think I’m acting weird?”

“Yep. You’re weird alright, Davis. Never a moment when you're not.”

Llewyn groaned quietly, recoiling away from Pappi’s hand as it came down again to pat his shoulder. God, he wished he’d stop doing that already. He wasn’t here to have a fucking grand ‘ol time catching up with everyone, he wanted to talk to you. Pappi’s voice and low laughter brought Llewyn out of his thoughts. That, and his arm that was now draped around Llewyn’s shoulders as he looked around the cafe.

“Don’t be too hard on her. She’s attached, I swear. I remember seein’ you two—well, you two and Mike, very first gig at Gaslight. Almost like she wanted to be as close to you as possible. It was cute. You two were cute. And oh boy, don’t get me started on all the bitching she did while you were gone, I swear it was—”

“You said she was in the back?”

“Oh yeah, she’s in the back. Doin’ what, I’m not too sure.”

“Thanks,” Llewyn bit out sarcastically, pulling away from Pappi and starting to walk toward the back. This wasn’t a ”Let’s reminisce and remember how in love Llewyn and you were” moment. This was a ”I need to apologize before you ditch me too” kind of moment.

“Hey, no problem! Go get your girl before I do! Haha, seriously, I was considering it.”

Oh god, could he get any more crude? Was that just Pappi’s thing? Trying to get into the pants of every woman that steps foot into the Gaslight. The thought made Llewyn grimace, not even daring to glance behind him as he headed towards the back.

The hallway was even darker than the actual cafe—God, was there any good lighting in this place? The faint sounds of everyone conversing slowly faded into the background as he slowly walked down the hall. Llewyn peeked his head into each room he saw, but no luck so far. Random storage rooms, break rooms, offices, and yet you just weren’t there.

Ah. Shit. Maybe he should’ve thought to check the door that had light spilling from the cracks. It was at the end of the hallway, he would’ve gotten to it eventually.

Slowly cracking the door open, Llewyn stepped inside, and was instantly greeted with your figure sitting.. on the floor? Your back faced towards him, a crate of LPs and EPs in front of you, flipping through it slowly. Oh, great, sulking already.

He cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly as he observed your sagging shoulders and almost angry, jagged movements as you flipped through the vinyl. He cleared his throat to get your attention, shifting from one foot to to the other.

“Sooo.. you angry at me?”

Okay. Maybe not the best thing to start off with.

“Why would I be angry at you?” You huffed quietly, the furrow in your brows softening as you turned to look at Llewyn.

“Oh, I don’t know,” He grumbled, rubbing a gloved hand over his scruffy beard. “You’ve just got that look on your face.”

Rolling your eyes, you turned back to the crate of vinyl you were sifting through, shoving it back into it’s place on the bottom shelf. If Llewyn didn’t feel guilt starting to tug at his chest, he would have found it endearing, seeing you like a pouty kid.

“I don’t have any look on my face.”

Llewyn just shrugged, walking further into the room to lean against the wall beside you. He went silent for a few moments, contemplating what to say. Hell, he wasn’t a really… vulnerable guy. He didn’t know how to have a heart-to-heart. He didn’t know how to address shit like this, he’d never had to before.

“C’mon, don’t do that,” Llewyn scoffed, crossing his arms and watching as you rose to your feet, dusting yourself off. He watched you scrub a hand over your face, as if trying to compose yourself before blowing up on him.

“I’m not doin’ anything. I don’t know what you’re trying to prove.”

“I can tell something's wrong. Don’t bullshit me.”

“I'm not bullshitting you, Llew. The only thing that's bullshit is you. I don't get why you're acting like this!"

Crap. So much for trying to stay composed.

"Like what! What am I fucking acting like, huh? Please, tell me. I'm dying to know."

"Like this!" You gestured wildly to him, motioning to his tired eyes and overall disheveled state. "You leave for two months and suddenly you're all mopey and sad—I don't know!"

"I was 'mopey and sad' even before I left, don't act like it's anything new."

"I know that! The thing I don't understand is the whole fucking quitting music thing! Seriously, where the hell did that even come from, Llew?"

"I can't even land a gig anymore! I hitchike to Chicago, all for some fucking guy to tell me I'd be better in some fucking trio. I'm not playing in a goddamned trio!"

"What the fuck are you talking about? You're throwing everything away because—what, you didn't get one gig? Are you fucking serious?"

"No! No—No, no, no. It's not just one gig. It's everything! I barely have any money to my name right now, not one single person has bought my stupid album, it's not like I'm new to this. I don't even have a place to fucking stay. So no, it's not about one fucking gig."

The air between you two had gone still, and suddenly the silence that washed over the room felt suffocating. Shit, was that too much? For now, there was no quick retort from either of you. No quick quip or pointless arguing, just uncomfortable silence and a weird, brand new vulnerability from Llewyn.

The anger that had furrowed both of your brows was slowly dissapating, leaving behind something akin to unfamiliarity. Not with the subject, no, the both of you had talked about and experienced this in different forms. Just… with different people. Never with each other. Llewyn avoided the topic because it made him feel like a charity case. You had simply avoided the topic because Llewyn never cared to bring it up.

Watching your shoulders begin to sag and your irritated posture and tone slowly fade, Llewyn shifted awkardly on his feet once more. He watched your mouth open and close, like you were trying to piece together a response, before you finally spoke. Your tone was softer now, almost apologetic.

"You could've told me, y'know."

"..I know."

And fuck, he does know. But what was he supposed to do? Just come knocking on your door again to ask for more money, again, after what, years of being friends? He wasn't a leech. God, he really tried not ot be.

"I would've helped you."

"I know you would."

"I'll still help you, idiot."

Oh.

Llewyn shakes his head, scoffing and trying to brush it off, as if this whole thing didn't start because he refused your help in the first place. His stance became more defensive, crossing his arms and standing up a little straighter. He opened his mouth to respond, but you cut him off.

"It's not out of pity, Llewyn."

Oh. Shit.

"Then why?" He bit back, furrowing his brows again.

"Do I even have to have a reason?"

"That's not the point."

Holy fuck, this man. He could be so goddamn stubborn. You wished you could just squeeze some sense into those scruffy cheeks, maybe tug on his unruly curls and set his head straight. But you cared for him too much to do that, even if it sounded amazing right now. Oh so fucking amazing.

"Fine," You relented, huffing softly and smoothing out the crease between your brows. "Because I want to."

"Oh come on, be serious." He snorted back, rolling his eyes and letting his shoulders untense. At least it got a little laugh out of him, if you could even call it that.

"I want to help because you're one of my best friends. And becuse you're too talented to just give up on everything."

Llewyn scoffs like he's about to make a self-depricating comment, but you interrupt him once more. God dammit.

"I've heard your music, don't act like it isn't good. You just lack… y'know, the…y'know," You waved your hands around, gesturing to this imaginary thing that he lacked. Llewyn just raised an eyebrow, still keeping his arms crosed but letting his posture soften a bit.

"The what?"

"The drive," You snapped your fingers, pointing at him accusingly. "You're giving up too easy. It's like you've got the life sucked outta you."

Oh, great, again with the sad mopey shit. Llewyn knew he was sad and mopey, everyone knew.

"How the hell are you gonna help me with my.. 'drive'?"

Now you really paused, letting your eyes dart around the small supply room like all the answers were burried deep behind wallpaper and drywall. And then Llewyn saw it. He saw the way your eyes flickered to the crate of vinyls, and back to him, and then back and forth. His eyebrows raised slightly, his breath hitching as if he sensed exactly what you were gonna say.

"No, don't even think about it—"

"I'm dragging you back out to Chicago to whatever jackass rejected you and we're gonna get you that fucking gig."

Llewyn just groaned, letting his hands drag down his face in exasperation. He knew it. He appreciated the help, but he didn't expect this much help. And knowing you? You weren't joking around. If anything, you'd drag him to your car and be on the road before sundown.

When he looked up to meet your gaze, that stupid hopeful gaze like you'd just come up with one of the best ideas ever, he was surprised to see you actually.. sorta smiling. As if you were actually excited to help him. It wasn't exactly the 'kid opening presents on Christmas' sorta grin, just a 'you're my friend and I forgive you' smile.

"You don't have to do this."

A weak excuse. Knowing you, you'd help him regardless, even if the two of you fought every single day for the rest of your lives.

"I know."

"You're gonna do this shit anways, aren't you?"

"You bet your ass."

And like that, the worst of the argument was over. At least for now, Llewyn hoped. He knew you, he knew you weren't going to hold a grudge for too long. Knew you were sorry, and you knew he was sorry too. And so when you held out your hand expectantly, he didn't even try to protest. Just fake sighed dramatically, uncrossing his arms and taking your hand without a fight.

You dragged Llewyn out from the back of the Gaslight, down the dim hallway and into the main seating area. Soon the sound of distant chatter filtered into both of your ears, talking and the sound of glasses clinking accompanying it. It didn’t occur to either of you, to… y’know, let go of each other’s hands as you started walking back.

“There they are! Came back to the land of the living, eh?”

Pappi’s loud voice was the first thing they heard, accompanied by his laughter and the sight of his grin. Both of you glanced at one another, a grimace on your face and an exasperated look on Llewyn’s. The relief of the resolved argument between you two was instantly shattered as the mere sight of Pappi. Right.

“Yeah yeah, don’t throw a party or nothin’,” Llewyn groaned, his almost fond expression turning into one of annoyance. He seriously didn’t want to talk to Pappi right now.

As you two walked closer, the other man glanced down at your clasped hand, a smug grin now on his face.

“I was starting to think you two wouldn’t come back! Was starting to think Llewyn got lucky,” Pappi grinned, wiggling his eyebrows and elbowing Llewyn with a smirk. You weren’t sure if it was intentional, but Llewyn quickly let go of your hand, making no effort to acknowledge the gesture whatsoever. But you definitely noticed.

You cleared your throat, glancing around the seating area and to the stage, your eyes lingering on the other artists there. "Actually, we're going to Chicago for a few days. I uh, might need some time off."

The smirk on Pappi's face only grew wider at that, and the older man glanced between you two.

"What, finally going on your honeymoon? Never really thought of Chicago as the most romantic place on Earth, but you kids are so weird these days—"

"There's no goddamn honeymoon for Christ's sake," Llewyn interupted, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms in that same defensive stance he always did. "She's just helping me get back on my feet."

"I'm helping him revive his music career," You corrected, mimicking Llewyn and crossing your arms as well. It wasn't quite as defensive as the stubborn man beside you, but it was as smug and proud as the smirk on Pappi's face.

"Well good luck with whatever the hell you two are doing," Pappi laughed, his eyes lingering on you as Llewyn started to head for the door. Pappi's hand caught your shoulder before you could follow behind Llewyn, and he ducked his head to whisper lowly. "Go easy on him, will ya? You're the only good thing the poor guy's got going for him."

The thought made you pause, but you just murmured a small "Sure thing, Pappi," and hurried to catch up with Llewyn. Eh, you'd come back to it later. For now, the focus was Chicago. Hell, you didn't even know where the hell Llewyn went to to get rejected in the first place, but that detail would come eventually.

The laughter and sound of conversations faded behind you as the door of the Gaslight shut, and you and Llewyn were left to walk back to your apartment.

"So, we hit up my place, grab our stuff, and then hit the road?" You proprosed, already mapping out the bag you would need to pack. Clothes, money, toiletries, what else…

"..I need to go to Joy's house before we leave."

"..Ah. Okay, new plan, we can just take the subway. Easy as that."

any interaction is appreciated :)

<- ch. 2

taglist: @ivoryfaked @mysticalmoonb3ams @poedameronsgirlfriend

[hunnywritesthings]

Homeward Bound (ch.2)

<- ch.1 ch. 3 ->

I'm sittin' in the railway station / Got a ticket for my destination / On a tour of one-night stands / My suitcase and guitar in hand / And every stop is neatly planned / For a poet and a one-man band

Llewyn Davis x Fem!Reader

authors note: okayyy sooo.. this chapter kinda will make a LOT more sense if you have seen the moviee!! ik this is kinda a tone shift from the first chapter but its necessary because llewyn is a little bum loser asshole... but dw things get better!! Fic title from a song called "Homeward Bound" by Simon & Garfunkel.

word count: 2.0k

content warnings: mention of su!c!d3/death, a lot of swearing, both reader and llewyn being dicks kinda..

The small cafe wasn’t packed to the brim, thankfully, but it wasn’t deserted either. Greenwich wasn’t small or quaint or quiet, but this was another level of lively. And there you were, sat like it was completely normal. Sure, there was always shit going on around every corner, folk music coming from inside a select few cafes, but it seemed like all of that energy tripled. Huh.

The pair of you were sitting by the window of the cafe, drinking coffee and chatting over whatever pastries they were selling. Just something small.

Llewyn glanced around the cafe, leaning towards you and tilting his head slightly to everyone else who was sitting down and having their own morning coffee.

“Is it uh… Is it always like this in here?”

“Like what?” You raised an eyebrow, slightly confused on what he meant. “Y’know.. I mean, I know there’s a lot of..musicians in the Village, but this is overdoing it.”

At the realization of what he meant, you chuckled softly, shrugging as you brought your cup up to your lips. “Yeahh.. There’s been some changes. Not many, but a few.” You motioned subtly around the cafe, before looking out the window, onto the street. “There were a few protests ‘nd riots back in April. Somethin’ about playing in Washington Square, there was a bunch of people singing. It was actually kind of nice, y’know.”

“Nice? A protest like that?”

“Oh c’mon Llewyn, don’t be like that. A bunch of people came together to sing music and prove a point. Good community of artists down here, y’know. It’s brought more people to The Gaslight, that’s for sure.”

Llewyn huffed quietly at that. To him it sounded a little silly, but if you thought it was okay, then it couldn’t have been that bad. 

“You still work at Gaslight?”

“Well…Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know, I just figured you would eventually find a better place.”

“It’s not all that bad, Pappi lets me play sometimes, I get by.” “Get by?” Llewyn scoffed lightheartedly, letting his gaze rake over the cafe once more. He looked down at his own cup of coffee, taking a sip, before his eyes flicked back to you. “What happened to all that shit about ‘making it big’? You used to be crazy about goin’ out and performing.”

“I still like going out performing, Llewyn. What—” You pause, shaking your head slightly. One of your hands comes up to pinch the bridge of your nose, your eyebrows furrowing slightly with confusion. “What’s with all the future talk? I thought you hated thinking about the future.” 

“I don’t fucking know, change of heart I guess.” He grumbled, defensively tensing up and sipping from his cup. 

Weird. This wasn’t like the usual cynical, pessimistic Llewyn. Okay, it kind of was, but obviously something had happened over the few months he was gone. And you weren’t about to press him on it—you knew he’d hate that even more.

“..Look, I gotta stop by the Gaslight today. I can get you a gig. Tonight, probably.” You put down your cup with a soft clink, reaching over the table to gently grasp Llewyn’s hand in your own. “You probably need the money. And you need to get your head out of your ass for a while, you’re acting weirder than usual.”

He laughed a little at that, a sound something akin to defeat, his free hand rubbing his face again. He looked out the cafe window and onto the bustling streets, quietly stuck in his own head. 

“..I don’t know why I came back. Fuckin’ waste of money paying my dues and getting a new lisence.” He muttered, shaking his head and rubbing his forehead. “The whole fucking reason I left was to give up on music. I went all the way to fucking Chicago and I still got turned down!”

Oh. That was new. Your tone twisted into something a little more surprised, and understanding. But deep down, it killed you a little bit. Llewyn was self-sabotaging, no doubt about that. But giving up on music? You found that hard to believe. 

“You’re an asshole but you’re not that much of an asshole, Llewyn. You don’t just fucking give up on music.”

“Well clearly I fucking didn’t, because obviously I came back.”

You rolled your eyes, scoffing as you crossed your arms on the table, leaning forward in your chair with a quiet creeaak.

“I don’t want to fight with you. But you know you have something good going on. Why the hell did you run? I know that ‘running from everything’ is a very you thing to do, but rejoining the merchant’s union? Come on. We both know you fucking hate it.”

“Because it’s fucking pointless, that’s why!” 

A few people started to glance over at you two, curious gazes started to get thrown Llewyn’s way. Once all eyes were off him, he mimicked your pose, crossing his arms and leaning over the table. His voice was a little more hushed now.

“I’m broke, I’m not selling any goddamn music, Jean hates me, she doesn’t even want to fucking look at me.”

“What the fuck does Jean have to do with this?”

“...I got her pregnant.”

“You got—you got her pregnant? What the fuck!”

Now it was your turn to get the weird looks from the other customers. You could feel them staring at you, it felt like holes were being burned into the back of your head. But all you could do was stare at Llewyn like he said the sky was green or some shit. ”This is a joke,” You thought to yourself, searching Llewyn’s expression for any hint of uncertainty. 

“Yes, I got her fucking pregnant!” He whisper-shouted at you, clenching his jaw slightly, before forcing himself to take a breath and calm down a bit. He wasn’t opposed to causing a scene. But not here, and certainly not with you involved. He couldn’t lose you. “I got her pregnant, and I have no money left after paying for a bunch of shit. And I’m just..” Llewyn sighed once more, his shoulders—which were once tense—now sagged slightly. “I’m just so fucking tired.”

You knew Llewyn couldn’t help it. But at the same time, God did he just make you so fucking angry. It wasn’t his fault he was so tired, you knew that Mike’s death hit him hard. But using it as his excuse for disappearing for months wasn't the best thing he could have done. Llewyn was the most cynical, pessimistic and stubborn man you have ever met. But holy shit, it wasn’t always like this. You weren’t angry at Llewyn, just angry at everything that was happening.

“We’re all tired, Llewyn. Me, you, Jean, Jim, the Gorfeins, everyone. Everyone is tired. You weren’t the only one that Mike’s death affected.”

Llewyn seemed to tense up at the mention of Mike. You were thinking it, he was thinking it, you both were thinking it. But it seemed to still be a sensitive topic to him.

“Don’t fucking bring him into this.”

“Just because you’re throwing a hissy fit about everything doesn’t mean you’re the only one in the entire world that has shit going on. Just ‘cause he threw himself over George Washington bridge doesn’t mean you have to too.” 

“Why’d you have to fucking bring him up? Why, honestly. Don’t talk about this shit like I’m the bad guy.”

“Llewyn, I’m just trying to help. I just hate seeing you all fucking depressed and shit. I’ve missed you, you ran away for two months. You only think about yourself and it’s driving me fucking insane.”

“Well I don’t need your help. I don’t need your fucking pity help.”

Leaning back in your seat, you let out a frustrated huff, your eyebrows knitted together as you stared at Llewyn. You wanted to strangle him. You wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake some sense into him, because pity help? The last thing you saw him as was a charity case. Ugh, he was so stubborn. You reached into your pocket, digging out what little cash you had on you and haphazardly tossing it onto the table to pay for the coffee. You stood up, pushing your chair in and biting back a harsh remark. He didn’t need to be reprimanded right now. But it was tempting. So fucking tempting.

“I’ll see you around then.”

He sat there, his own eyebrows furrowed and body stiff as he watched you leave. 

“What, now you’re running too?”

You didn’t even turn around to say anything else, walking out of the cafe as fast as you could. Where were you even gonna go? As much as you were thankful for your own little corner of the Village, your apartment would’ve felt too suffocating. So you went to your second home; the Gaslight Cafe. At least you could get your mind off of things and hide out there until it opened. This was only supposed to be a nice little catch-up session. 

And so, Llewyn was left in the cafe, staring at the door where you had just left a minute ago. What the fuck? What the fuck was that? He knew he wasn’t acting like he usually did, but that was a whole different thing. Usually, you didn’t take things so seriously. Usually, you rarely stormed out on him. It wasn’t really storming out, but still, usually you’d at least stick around to hear his bullshit.

───────────────────────

Standing awkwardly outside of Jim and Jean’s apartment, he knocked softly, a twisting feeling in his gut starting to grow. Maybe it was guilt, maybe it was the feeling that something else was going on. Llewyn was taken aback—shit, he knew he was an asshole, but never so much of an asshole that you’d just walk out on him. He thought you missed him. Last time he checked, when someone misses someone, they don’t ditch them at a cafe in the middle of Greenwich.

The sound of the door unlocking had snapped Llewyn out of his thoughts, and he was faced with a sour looking Jean, arms crossed and looking at him expectantly. 

“What did you fuck up this time?”

Llewyn scoffed slightly, rubbing his cold hands together, not only for warmth but as an outlet for his stress. Stress, anxiety, it didn’t matter. He just needed to figure out what the hell he was going to do.

“Has.. uh.. Has anything been going on with.. Y’know..” “No, Llewyn. I don’t know.”

When he mentioned your name, as soon as the first syllable left his lips, Jean’s face twisted into something like pity. 

“Oh god, what’d you do to her? Don’t tell me you got her pregnant too.”

“No! Fuck, I didn’t get her pregnant. She just fucking stormed out on me.” Jean laughed bitterly, as if this was all some joke. Because with Llewyn, it wasn’t that out of the ordinary for something like this to happen. Chick magnet, sure, but he wasn’t the best with women. 

“I don’t blame her. I would’ve stormed out too.”

Jean uncrossed her arms and reached for the doorknob, already closing the door on Llewyn, but he scrambled to push it back open slightly. Llewyn’s expression softened into something defeated. “She started talking about Mike. And I got pissed, and she got pissed, and then she left.”

“Well what’d you expect? She’s the last one to find out you rejoined the Merchants after you’ve already fucking ditched them, too. Of course she’d be pissed.”

“Fucking Lord, Jean, just tell me how to fucking fix this already and I’ll leave you alone.”

“How am I supposed to tell you how to fix things? You couldn’t go to Joy about this? Or did you piss off your sister too?”

When Jean was met with no reply, she just crossed her arms again, her expression mimicking Llewyn’s defeated one. She sighed, rubbing her forehead warily. She felt bad for you. Llewyn didn’t know how to fix shit even if his life depended on it. And to Llewyn, it did feel like his life depended on it. With a slightly less agitated tone, Jean brought her gaze back to Llewyn. “You want to fix things with her? Then ask her. Listen to her for fucking once in your life.”

any interaction is appreciated :)

<- ch.1 ch. 3 ->

taglist: @ivoryfaked @mysticalmoonb3ams @poedameronsgirlfriend

[hunnywritesthings]

Homeward Bound (ch.1)

ch.2 ->

I'm sittin' in the railway station / Got a ticket for my destination / On a tour of one-night stands / My suitcase and guitar in hand / And every stop is neatly planned / For a poet and a one-man band

Llewyn Davis x Fem!Reader

authors note: ok so i know nobody asked for this and yes this first chapter was rlly shot and just a bunch of bulllshiiit, but lately i have been OBSESSED with llewyn and ugh i need him in my veins. alsooo.. this chapter is just bulllshiiiit i'm so sorry to anyone reading this. its just bullllshiiiiit. Fic title from a song called "Homeward Bound" by Simon & Garfunkel.

word count: 1.7k words

content warnings: none really (??), just a lot of swearing and "fuck"s :) pls lmk if i need to add anything

The sight of the scruffy orange cat perched on your windowsill wasn’t an unusual one—in fact, he’d been coming around ever since Llewyn begged you to let him crash on your couch. 

It had been a few months since it first happened. Technically, the last time it happened too. Llewyn was gone as far as you could tell. Otherwise, he’d be accompanying this little shit of a cat. Oh well, at least the kitty was cute. Cuddly, too.

Greenwich Village wasn’t exactly known for being a calm city, it always seemed there were people performing on the streets and in bars, and that included you too. When Llewyn was around, that is. God, actually, where in the hell did he go? Not a single call or a single letter, it’s like he disappeared off the face of the Earth.

There was a specific ache, settled deep in your bones as you entered your small apartment and kicked your shoes off to the side haphazardly. Another shift at The Gaslight Café. If you weren’t performing, then you were helping clean up and serve drinks to people. Did it pay much? No, not much. But enough to keep you afloat. And enough to buy cream for the orange feline currently yowling at you to let him inside.

You didn’t even bother turning the light on, just stumbling over to the window and cracking it open to let some cool air in—and to let the cat in as well. There wasn’t really much else to do other than collapse onto the couch. The same routine had been chipping away at you for months now. Wake up, sometimes go to the grocery store, go to work, wipe tables until your hands fell off, come home, get smothered in your sleep by a cat and wake up covered in fur. 

Letting your eyes slip closed, you wanted to just pass out on the couch. Didn’t even want to change. Even though you probably needed a shower. It could wait till tomorrow. 

The soft ’mrrp’ of the kitty was the only sound in the apartment, the little thing hopping up into your lap and curling up. Well fuck, now you were really stuck there. Not that you minded it. This is how it went most nights, passing out on the couch and almost being suffocated by your new furry friend. And that’s all you remembered doing before waking up to faint sunlight streaming in through your blinds, and an empty, cold lap.

And so you started to go through the motions, your body moving on autopilot as you started the day. Sluggishly walking into the kitchen, you were greeted with the sight of your feline friend perched on the counter. He lets out a happy little trill, one of his furry ears twitching as he tilted his head up at you. 

“At least someone’s happy to see me,“ You murmured softly scratching behind his ears and then under the cat’s chin. Huh, no collar. “Llewyn never mentioned your name, little buddy..”

The cat leaned into your hand, bumping his face into your warm palm. He meowed as if responding to you, purring lowly, before hopping off the counter with a flick of his tail. Fickle little thing, never wanted to stay still. He’d scurry out your window more times than you could count. 

Glancing over at the clock, it was only around 6:30, not much after the sun rose. Stretching and padding over to your fridge, you cracked the door open only to be greeted with empty shelves and sparse ingredients. You figured you’d be able to squeeze in a trip to the corner store today. Maybe pick up something to treat yourself. If your wallet allowed you, that is.

“Okay, gameplan.. Shower, probably breakfast, run out to the store..” You thought to yourself, closing the fridge door with a sigh and glancing around the kitchen. Not the messiest it’s ever been, but it’s been better. Your nose crinkled at the sight of dirty dishes starting to pile up in the sink. ”And definitely come back and clean.”

Before anything, you automatically opened the fridge again, taking out a little bottle of cream and a small dish from the cabinet, pouring some out for the skittish kitty somewhere around your apartment. Though, you wouldn’t be surprised if he’d already taken off.

And so, into your small crappy bathroom you went, hoping a warm shower would wake you up enough to get through the morning. The old pipes creaked as the water started to flow, and Lord did it feel good to finally take a shower. Sure, it was cold outside, but your hands always felt clammy, and you broke out into a cold sweat when you were at The Gaslight. Maybe it was just because of the small crowds that would accumulate every night. Maybe it was just the awkwardness of it all, watching someone on stage while the rest of the room is almost dead silent. 

When the water started to run cold, you took it as a sign to rinse off the last of your bodywash and shut off the shower. It was unclear how long you sat under the shower, the measly water pressure doing little to soothe your groggy mind. When you heard a muffled yowl from the other side of the bathroom door, you really took that as a sign it was time to get going with your day.

You barely made it into your bedroom to get dressed before there was a knock at the door. Throwing on a sweater and whatever clean pants you could find, you heard the knock again. God, who the hell would be knocking at your door? The cat yowled again, as if trying to get your attention. 

“Yeah yeah, I’m going as fast as I can,” You grumbled, running your fingers through your damp hair and glancing at your kitty friend pacing in front of the door. “Holy shit.”

Those were the only words you managed to get out as you opened the door, and there stood.. Llewyn. 

“What, not happy to see me?” He chuckled quietly, a small grin breaking out on his face–bordering awkward and even apologetic. 

You jaw hung open slightly as you looked him up and down–still scruffy beard and unruly curls, at least that hadn’t changed a bit. His guitar case was slung over his shoulder, and he was still wearing the same ratty old sweater and pants you’d seen him in last. 

“I—Uh.. Oh my God, where’ve you been? I don’t—Llewyn, what the fuck?—”

The trilling noises and meows coming from the cat at your feet caught Llewyn’s attention, his face twisting up into something similar to surprise.

“Ulysses? The hell is he doing here?” He laughed out softly, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he glanced between you and the cat. “Ulysses? That’s it’s name–It’s name is Ulysses?”

“Hey, not my cat, it’s the Gorfeins.”

You bent down to scoop the little rascal into your arms, still in a state of shock that Llewyn is standing at your door for the first time in months. Taking a step back to let him inside, you’re basically rendered speechless. What the fuck?

“Where the hell have you been? I haven’t seen you since February!”

Llewyn just laughs and rubs at the back of his neck with a gloved hand as he steps inside, glancing around your cold apartment and setting his guitar case down by the couch. “Uhh.. I rejoined the Merchant Marine union, I didn’t tell you?” 

“No you didn’t tell me! You disappeared!” 

It wasn’t like you were really angry about it.. Sure, it was frustrating, but it was Llewyn. He was just like that sometimes. A lot of the time, actually. Your arms tightened instinctively around the cat—around Ulysses, and he started to squirm. You let him out of your arms, feeling all sorts of mixed up and conflicted. 

“You come to me one day askin’ about borrowing money and shit and crashing at my place, and you dissepear—without telling me by the way—for two months?”

Deep down, you knew in a way, Llewyn was exactly like Ulysses. Came and went as he pleased, gone for days on end. But two months was new. Of course you were at least a little worried. It was Llewyn after all. You crossed your arms as you watched Llewyn tried to explain himself.

“Alright, alright! I’m sorry, I was just really fucking tired that weak. I was broke and sleeping on people’s couches for fucks sake, what was I supposed to fucking do?” He gestures with his hands, stumbling over his words a few times just to get his point across. Llewyn sighed deeply, rubbing his face with his hands and closing his eyes. You could tell he was tired, anyone with eyes could see that. And maybe you even felt a little bad. “Look, I didn’t come crawling back to you to have an argument.”

Uncrossing your arms, you sighed as well. It was the same song and dance, every single time. Not that you minded. His company was nice. Most of the time. It was a sort of “being alone, together” type of thing. You couldn’t stay aggravated for long. “If you need a place to stay, you can crash here.”

And just like that, Llewyn was pulling you into a hug and burying his face in your hair. You didn’t hesitate to hug him back. He was a pain in the ass. But he was Llewyn all the same.

“Thank you. ‘Cause Jim and Jean already shut their door on me.” He smiled against your hair, his nose nudging your head gently, and you could already hear the appreciative tone in his voice. “I swear, all you do is mooch off of me.”

Llewyn pulls away from the hug, patting your shoulders and taking a step back to glance around the apartment again. It was exactly like he remembered, not a thing out of place. Especially you. God, he’d never tell you, but it was nice to have something constant in his life. And even if he wasn’t always consistent in yours, Llewyn knew you had a soft spot for him.

Another trill from Ulysses breaks the silence, rubbing up against Llewyn’s legs and getting orange cat hair all over him and purring softly. But in the blink of an eye, Ulysses was scampering down the hall and towards the bedroom.

Usually whenever Llewyn came over, you’d cook something, you two would chat for a bit, and then Llewyn would take off to God knows where. Probably the Gaslight. But your kitchen was in no way prepared for guests to be over.

“You wanna go grab something to eat? There’s a new Cafe near The Gaslight. My treat.”

“How could I ever say no to you?”

any interaction is appreciated :) i promise i'll be more consistent w/ my writing schedule!! sorry..

ch.2 ->

taglist: @ivoryfaked

[hunnywritesthings]

Enter: Dirty Girl (ch. 5)

<- ch. 4

There's this blinding light in me, delicious crimes in me, creeping vines, strangling, rocking back and forth, untying me

Club!Blue Jones x Fem!reader

authors note: yo I'm so sorry idk why it took me so long to write this bullllll crap... it's longer than I expected, not sure if I like the pacing, but, oh well!!! next chapter gets spicy btw. fic title from a song called "Enter: Dirty Girl" by Christina Navarro.

word count: 2.8k words

content warnings: mentions of alcohol, sorta crude language (a teeny bit at the beginning?), also just general club stuff idk..

“You’re staying here for today. You’re not leaving this fucking building. Okay? Is that clear? Or do I need to spank it into that pretty ass of yours so you actually understand me?”

The words sent a shiver down your spine. Not because you didn’t want it to happen, no, if it was anything like last night you wouldn’t put up much of a fight. It was just the fact that Blue wasn’t joking around that made you shiver.

Blue’s eyebrows furrow when he’s met with silence, looking down at your lips as the both of you sit in front of each other on the bed. 

“Oh c’mon angel, no need to be shy now. Use your words.”

What were you supposed to say? You couldn’t really fight him on this, and plus, he sounded pretty determined to keep you here. And going back to the smoke shop with an obvious limp would definitely get you a few weird stares from your boss. So instead, all you could muster up was a nod and a deep breath.

“..I don’t need to go in to work today anyways. It’s just.. kinda routine for me.”

Although it wasn’t intentional, you felt yourself holding your breath as you watched Blue’s face. Trying to gauge his emotions based on his reaction was hard. When he wasn’t grinning smugly, his eyebrows were always furrowed and his lips downturned. It seemed like he only had two expressions.

Blue raised an eyebrow, his gaze flitting to your lips before darting back up to meet your eyes. Once he was satisfied with the sincerity of your words, his hand tangled itself in your hair, resting on the back of your head. He leaned forward to press a kiss to your temple, murmuring against your skin.

“Good girl. Get dressed while I go figure out your breakfast, alright? I’ll be back, don’t leave and get lost.”

And with that, he pulled away from you, standing up from the bed and going over to the side table to retrieve his neatly folded clothes he shed before crawling into bed with you.

You watched as he buttoned up his shirt and pulled on his slacks, shrugging on his tux jacket and slipping on his shoes. Blue threw a silent glance over his shoulder at you before he left, a wordless command to get ready before he came back.

It almost felt like a sin to get up again, leaving behind the soft silky sheets of the bed and padding over to your suitcase once more. Part of you wanted to stay curled up in bed. Another part of you itched to get out of Lennox as fast as possible. And a third part of you, deep down, wanted to see where Blue would go with this whole thing.

Your thoughts were silent for once as you got dressed, after all there was no worry about where you were gonna stay tonight, if you’d have money for food or if you’d actually get a good night’s sleep. You’d been lucky enough to not have anyone try anything sketchy while you were living in your ex’s car, and you wanted to keep it that way. Maybe Lennox wouldn’t be so bad.

Finally dressed, you stepped into the bathroom and flicked the lights on. Turning on the sink and just rinsing the sleep from your eyes felt like heaven, drying your face with a fluffy towel even more so. But when you caught sight of yourself in the mirror, there was a pause. Sure, you’d looked a little wrecked from last night. And you definitely felt the ache all throughout your body now. But you’d never felt like…this after sex. Maybe it was the lack of sloppy one night stands that made things feel even weirder.

The opening of the bedroom door must’ve fallen deaf on your ears—once again your mind trained to tune out that sort of stuff—because suddenly you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist, right before your thoughts spiraled. Blue’s gaze met yours in the mirror. His arms shifted so that his hands rested on your waist, swaying both of you slightly like he was dancing to music you couldn’t hear. 

“You ready to eat, dove? Bet you must be starving,” Blue mumbles near your ear, a grin tugging at his lips as he feels you lean back against his chest. “Sorry it won’t be nothing fancy, sweetheart. Lennox isn’t exactly known for its five star food.”

His grin turns into a satisfied smirk once he sees you nod, and before you know it, you’re being led out of the bathroom and bedroom and into Lennox’s never-fucking-ending hallways once more. It was different—a lot more different than last night. The atmosphere, that is. The way Blue’s hand rested on the small of your back as he guided you back to his office was the same. But there wasn’t any music echoing from the main part of the club. The few girls you did pass weren’t dressed in skimpy outfits anymore. There was an air of normalcy now, you could feel it as the girls you passed gave small smiles and glances of acknowledgment to Blue. But you? You felt deathly out of place.

It wasn’t long before you reached Blue’s office, the smell of pancakes wafting through the air. Shit, it couldn’t have been more than a week since you actually had a decent breakfast—one that wasn’t fast food or a protein bar. Blue motioned for you to sit down in front of his desk, the plate of pancakes and yogurt on the side waiting for you.

“Sorry sweetcheeks, pancakes was the best I could get for you. Figured you’d might like something on the sweeter side,” he hummed thoughtfully, rounding the desk and sitting down in his own chair. 

Your eyes flickered between him and the food, taking a few bites as you watched Blue dig through one of the drawers of the desk. Eventually, after a second of watching him, he pulled out an envelope and tucked it into the pocket of his tux.

“I’ve got some business to attend to today. Nothing you should worry about, I’ll be back before Lennox starts lettin’ customers in. Need to introduce you to someone though.”

Blue let out a quiet huff as he leaned over his desk, reaching for his glasses and slipping them on as he looked down at some paperwork.

“I bet you’ve worked some shitty waitress jobs. How’d you do with those? Get along with the patrons alright?”

Your fork stopped midway to your mouth, lips parted to take a bite but you looked a little caught off guard by his question. It wasn’t that crazy of a question, honestly. Why did this feel like an interview? A very, very informal one, but you didn’t know how else to describe it. It didn’t seem like just curiosity. You set your fork down, looking down at your plate of pancakes and watching the way the syrup started to make the fluffy stack soggy.

“Um.. I guess I did alright. It wasn’t anything special,” you answered honestly, shrugging as you pushed the bite of pancake on your fork around in the syrup. “..Never done it in this type of setting before.”

Another silence fell over the both of you, nothing but the sound of your fork scraping against the plate slightly. Ouch. Blue studies your face, the way your gaze doesn’t meet his anymore. He just nods, looking back down at the paperwork on his desk and squinting down at some of the smaller parts to read it properly. “Don’t play with your food, honey. You’re gonna need the energy for today.”

And with that, his attention is no longer on you. You wait for a moment, hesitating just in case there was something else he was going to say. But alas, just the sound of papers flipping and the occasional scribble of a pen. You took it as your sign to just quietly finish eating, the stack of pancakes slowly dwindling along with the yogurt. 

The soft clink of your fork against the mostly empty plate told Blue you were done. He looked down at what was left on the plate, nodding approvingly before standing with a huff. 

“C’mon angel, can’t waste any time today,”

Blue took off his glasses, setting them down on the desk before rounding the table and helping you up from your seat. You murmured a small ”thank you,” as you took his hand, and once again he was leading you out of his office. His fingers stayed intertwined with yours as he led you both to the main part of the club. There were a few girls scattered around, some setting up tables and chairs and others cleaning. A few by the bar, chatting with the bartender. And of course, there were a handful of girls on stage, practicing their dance routines.

“Bambi! Come here baby, let me introduce you to someone.”

Blue’s hand untangled from yours, his arm snaking around your shoulder instead and keeping you close to him as you two walked over to the bar. A brunette girl with short layered hair—presumably Bambi—turned her head at Blue’s echoing voice, the rest of the girls lowering their voices to a murmur as Blue approached with you around his arm.

She stepped forward, pulling her low rise shorts down like she was scared of being called out for dressing inappropriately.

“Hi Blue, what’d you need?”

Her voice was sweet, too sweet for a place like Lennox. She held her hands clasped in front of her, and you could feel her eyes flickering to you. It wasn’t a judgmental stare, just questioning. Curious even. Blue’s arm tightened around you slightly, pulling you closer to his side.

“Be a dear and show this angel around, hm? I’ve gotta go pretty soon. Train her while you’re at it. Thinkin’ about putting her on the floor tonight.”

“..Tonight? Are you sure? We open early tonight, I don’t know if I’ll have enough time—“

“Tonight, Bambi. Get this little lamb ready. I’m not expecting some grand performance, get her ready to shadow you at least.”

Bambi glances between you and Blue, as if quietly contemplating, before nodding reluctantly with a timid expression.

“Okay. Will do.”

Blue nods with a smirk, but his expression is hard. He leans over and presses a kiss to your temple before he’s off, letting go abruptly and heading straight for the doors. Well shit.

You look back at Bambi, meeting her gaze as she stares down at you. Her expression is something between pity and empathy.

“..Come on, I’ll show you around.”

As she starts walking, you silently follow, glancing back over your shoulder to the other girls near the bar, whispering between themselves. ”Who is that?”, “Did you see the way Blue kissed her?”, “I feel bad for her. She probably doesn’t know what she’s getting into.”

That last snippet you caught, ”She probably doesn't know she’s getting into.” Shit, of course you didn’t. Everything was being shoved into your arms and you could barely hold on. In all seriousness, you were going into this blind. And for what? Just for some guy you let fuck you? A powerful guy nonetheless, but still—

“So, backstage we’ve got dressing rooms over there, jus’ some audio and tech-y stuff down the hall, umm.. okay, I’ll show you the rooms,”

Bambi’s voice cuts through your thoughts, and she motions vaguely around as you trail behind her. You’re led deeper backstage, around two corners down the never ending halls that Lennox has. God, it’d be impossible for you to get around on your own. How the hell did everyone know where everything was at?

She leads you down a corridor, and this time each door is slightly ajar. Peeking inside, it’s not quite as nice as the room you stayed in, but it’s not totally trashy either. 

“Bathrooms are connected to each bedroom, fresh towels ‘nd all that jazz. All of us do different chores, helping around Lennox. I’m the one stuck restocking all the rooms.”

You nodded, lingering back to look around one of the bedrooms, scurrying to catch up with Bambi once you realized she was already walking back to the main club area.

“Over here’s the bar, um, tonight you’re just gonna shadow me, okay? You don’t have to talk t’ any of the customers yet.”

The both of you walk past the bar, heading over to the booths that lined the club. Bambi slides into the booth, motioning for you to sit down across from her.

“Typically bottle girls find their own clients outside of a club, but uh, Blue isn’t too fond of letting us out of Lennox. Soo, instead, bottle girls like me are actually just.. waitresses? We focus on the high value customers, try to upsell them on fancy drinks.”

You find yourself nodding along, settling into the booth and fidgeting with your hands in your lap. Your fingers twist at the hem of your shirt, picking at any stray lint. 

“Usually tables are gonna be five people or more, there’s already a set price they have to pay for drinks either way.. um, let’s see..”

She pauses to think, glancing around the club as if she’s trying to find something she’s missing.

“..Why do they call you Bambi?”

Her expression changes into one of surprise as you ask that, and you internally wince. You hadn’t meant to come off as rude or anything.

“Just curious is all. Sorry.”

She shakes her head, laughing softly and running her fingers through her hair bashfully.

“Ah, no, it’s okay. Blue started callin’ me Bambi because I was super clumsy when I first got to Lennox. Dropped a few expensive bottles of booze, tripped over myself a few times. It just stuck.”

Bambi just laughs it off, before standing from the booth and extending a hand to help you up.

“C’mon, I’ll go show you the drinks. Teach ya how to upsell and all that good stuff.”

And so you let her drag you over to the bar, watching as the other girls still lingering around halt their conversation to whisper about you. You and Bambi step behind the bar and she shows you a few different bottles. It’s less training and more like you’re just listening to her talk at you. The words barely stick, everything being thrown at you all at once, but you’re sure you get the gist of it. Be charming, persuade some patrons to buy more expensive alcohol, and boom, big money just from tips.

You’re not sure just how long it took to explain how things were gonna work tonight, or how long it took Bambi to give you a short tour around Lennox, but soon enough you’re being dragged backstage to be fitted for a ‘costume’—”Everyone wears this in here, it’s just sexy corsets and tiny skirts, don’t worry,”—and what Bambi digs out for you is nothing short of revealing. And a little embarrassing. You’ve never worn anything this revealing, let alone in a club setting where you’ll surely be around men all night.

A white corset with lace detailing and flowery embroidery, and probably the tiniest, shortest white pleated leather skirt, and don’t forget the heels—what in the hell did Bambi have you wearing? She helps you change, reassuring you about your time on the floor and how it’ll be fine. Probably.

The voices of the other girls backstage lowered to hushed whispers as you emerged from a changing room, stiff on your feet because of your heels. You already knew it was going to be a long night.

Bambi smiles at you, something that teeters between awe and excitement.

“Oh you’re beautiful.. I can see why Blue—“

She goes quiet, her expression falling into one of surprise as she looks behind you, peeking over your shoulder at the sound of footsteps approaching. Everyone else getting ready fell quiet as well, all turning their heads to whoever was behind you.

“Why I wanted her on the floor tonight? I’m not gonna waste an opportunity when I see one, doe.”

Looking over your shoulder, you’re faced with Blue, and you step away slightly when you realize just how close he was behind you. 

His hand finds your shoulder, pulling you closer to his side and taking in your outfit. He gives Bambi a nod of satisfaction and she visibly relaxes.

“Ladies! Let’s get moving, we’re out in 10!” he calls out to the rest of the group and everyone starts rushing to get ready again. A low murmur settles over everyone else, and Blue shoos Bambi to go get ready as well.

Blue’s hand on your shoulder slides down to wrap around your waist, pulling you close to his side and unabashedly looking you up and down. 

“Stunning. You’re gonna do good tonight, okay?”

He smiles when you nod, giving your waist a squeeze before retracting his arm and stepping away, walking away just as fast as he showed up. You heard the faint echo of his voice down the hall, probably ushering everyone else to get ready as well.

“We’ve got a show to run!”

any interaction is appreciated :)

<- ch. 4

tags: @ruegoreos

[hunnywritesthings]

Enter: Dirty Girl (ch. 4)

<- ch. 3 ch.5 ->

There's this blinding light in me, delicious crimes in me, creeping vines, strangling, rocking back and forth, untying me

Club!Blue Jones x Fem!reader

authors note: GUYS I'VE BEEN ON MY WRITING GRIND HOLY SMOOOKESSSSS.. yk i'm not even mad that this shit is hella short, i'm just feeling good about my writing so yk fuck it we BALL. kinda don't like the pacing but I feel like this is the way it has to be done or else I will just hate all my writing. fic title from a song called "Enter: Dirty Girl" by Christina Navarro.

word count: 1.9k words

content warnings: uhhh nothing much rlly, just kinda crude language (ish, idk), we get to see a glimpse of mean blue but also rlly sweet blue :)

The smell of jasmine filled the bathroom, warm soapy water surrounding you as you sat in the bathtub. Blue’s fingers gently scrubbed and worked at your scalp, even though you insisted your hair was already washed and clean. Nevertheless, you found yourself relaxing under Blue’s hands, gently yet thoroughly working the sweet scented shampoo through your hair. He sat on the floor beside the tub, his ministrations slowing down so he could look at your face.

“Tilt your head back,” he instructed, guiding you to lean your head back so he could rinse out your hair. One of his hands cupped the water and rinsed out the shampoo, while his other hand shielded your forehead so no water would trickle down into your eyes. The quiet moment of intimacy wasn’t at all what you expected. However, there was no denying how good it felt to have someone—even if that someone helped run an underground drug cartel—just take care of you. And you could tell by the way Blue chuckled under his breath that he knew how much you liked this. 

Your eyes flitted to study Blue when he finally moved his hand away from your face, focusing on the soft clicking noise of conditioner being pumped out onto his hand. The water sloshed around you as you turned your head so he had better access to your hair.

“..Don’t go up to the roots.”

“I know what I’m doing, don’t worry angel. I’m not a complete idiot,” Blue huffed quietly, his fingers working the conditioner through your hair.

Oh. Technically the thought of Blue being so good at this type of stuff wasn’t that outrageous. You just hadn’t expected it to seem so natural to him. From your bosses description, Blue definitely didn’t seem like the type, but something about him now seemed softer now compared to when you first walked into Blue’s office.

“I work with women all the time, dove. Have a little faith in me.” 

He did run a brothel. Not that you knew anything about brothels. Or clubs. Or drugs or gambling. But it did seem like Blue worked around and with girls a lot. Both of you went quiet, Blue still conditioning your hair and working out any knots or tough spots.

“..What’s it like working here?”

You couldn’t help but ask. Not only was the silence killing you, but the question had been on your mind since you unofficially met Blue at the smoke shop. It was only natural that you’d get curious eventually.

“Why, you thinkin’ of taking me up on my offer and workin’ here?” Blue smirked, raising an eyebrow.

“What, I was just wondering..‘s just been on my mind is all.”

“Well, unless you’re one hell of a dancer, I doubt you’ll be dancing on stage anytime soon. Not doubting you or anything, but it’s just that the girls go through a lot of training. Lot of practice, sweetheart.” He answered truthfully, starting to rinse the conditioner from your hair. “Our bottle girls are just glorified waitresses with extra steps, in my opinion. Won’t be much fun if you ain’t the social type, baby.”

Blue coaxes you to tilt your head back once more so he can rinse the conditioner out, before leaning over the side of the tub and pressing a soft kiss to your temple. 

“I wouldn’t think to hard about it, honey,” He murmured against your wet skin before sitting back down beside the tub and reaching for the bodywash. “Not if you’re not serious about workin’ here.”

He lathers the fruity smelling bodywash in his hands, before washing your back and soothingly rubbing at any knots or tense spots in your muscles. 

“You could always stay here for a few days. Get familiar with Lennox, learn the ropes, hm?”

You turned your head over your shoulder to face Blue, trying to gauge if he was serious or not.

“..You really want me to work here, don’t you.”

“I knew you were a smart one, angel.”

A soft huff escaped you as your gaze fell back down on the soapy—now cooling—water around you. What were you really doing here? This was never part of your plan. Technically you didn’t even have a plan to begin with, but this was not part of your shitty imaginary plan.

Another silence fell over the two of you, Blue washing away the sweat and any other…bodily fluids from earlier. His touch was much gentler than before, and you wondered if it was intentional. Your lips parted, trying to think of something to say, but closed just as quickly when Blue’s eyes studied your expression and the way your cheeks tinted pink.

“Just think about my offer, alright dove? You’re living out of a car right now—one that doesn’t belong to you. And I know you get paid basically minimum wage.”

“..I’m saving up money for my own place,” You refuted, albeit weakly. Deep down, you knew Blue was right. You could only live out of your ex’s car for so long.

“And how long until you have enough money, huh? Where ya gonna live in the meantime? This is what I’m sayin’ sweetcheeks, really think about your options here.” Blue’s tone dipped into something more firm, less suggestion and more ”there’s really no other choice”. And shit, he got you there. When your eyes finally met his, he raised an eyebrow as if expecting an immediate answer. When he’s met with silence instead, he just gives you a knowing look and rinses all of the soapy bodywash off of you.

“Just think about it. Consider it. Let’s get you dried off.”

Protesting is useless as he helps you up and out of the tub, grabbing another fresh fluffy towel and handing it over to you. You stand off to the side and dry off, wrapping the towel around you once more. Blue pushes his shirt sleeve up higher from where it’s already rolled up to not get it wet, reaching down and unplugging the tub and watching the water spin down the drain.

Turning back to you, Blue lets his hand rest on the small of your back as he leads you both back into the bedroom, everything still where you left it in your hurried state of arousal.

“Get dressed and try and get some sleep, okay honey? I gotta get back to business.”

You nod, murmuring a soft “okay”, and padding over to the bed. You step around the other wet towel that was discarded on the floor, sitting on the edge of the mattress. Another silence falls over the room. But this time? You don’t mind it as much. Your eyes are stuck on Blue’s forearms, watching him closely as he rolls his sleeves back down and snatches his discarded tux jacket from the bed and shrugs it on.

“I’ll be back before you wake up.” He smiles reassuringly at you, slipping on his shoes and heading for the door. 

And so you’re left in silence, dim lighting and a quiet room with the sound of echoing music seeping through the walls. The thought of Blue’s offer resurfaced, and you tried to reasonably weigh the pros and the cons. You could start working here…he didn’t specify how much you’d be paid or what you’d actually be doing, but there weren't many options to choose from. Shitty smoke shop that gives you headaches versus questionable club with a sexy owner. 

You’re still turning the thought over in your mind, your body on autopilot as you discard the new towel on the floor beside the previous one, kicking them to the side of the room so they weren’t in your way. Walking over to the side table that your bags were under, you pulled your suitcase over to the bed and started looking for clean sleepwear.

Eventually you find a pair of pajamas and a clean pair of underwear, slipping into your fresh painties. A wince pushed its way up your throat as you felt the soreness in your legs, especially your thighs. There’s no way Blue fucked you that hard. You can’t complain too much, though, the soreness now settling over your body finally making you sleepy. There wasn’t a clock in the room, but your body was telling you it was late. And that meant crawling into the large bed and burying yourself under soft silky sheets.

It’s a mystery really, you didn’t know how long you were laying there, in that comfortable state of drowsiness when you were so so close to falling asleep. 

It seemed like one second you were on the verge of falling asleep, and then as soon as you blinked hours have passed and you’re finally waking up. There’s a warm weight pressed against you from behind, the feeling of bare skin against your body making you feel cozy and sleepy once more. Turning around so you’re facing Blue, you just study his features quietly for a few minutes. There’s no furrow in his brow, his features softer, almost giving him a boyish look. His arm was draped over your waist, and he tightened his grip on you once his body sensed you were awake.

All you hear is a dramatic yawn before being pulled closer to Blue’s bare chest, your cheek making contact with the warm skin, just like the other night. You can feel Blue’s chin resting on top of your head, his other hand gently running his fingers through your hair.

“..Mornin’ sleeping beauty. You were knocked out cold when I came back to the room.” He laughed quietly, his voice a sleepy rumble you felt in his chest. 

You just melted into his arms, body like putty as you relaxed into the warm sheets. It had been a few days since you were able to sleep in an actual bed, and God did it feel like Heaven.

“What time is it?” You murmured, squirming slightly as you wriggled your hands up to your face to rub the sleep from your eyes. “..Should be around 10:30, why?”

“..’M late for work..” You groaned softly, reluctantly trying to pull yourself out of Blue’s warm embrace. You hadn’t even thought about the smoke shop last night. Worth a shot to keep working while you tried to make a decision. 

“What? C’mon, you're not really thinking about going into work right now, are you?” 

His eyebrows furrowed and he seemed sort of stunned, causing his grip to go slack and unintentionally allowing you to escape his arms and get up out of bed. Blue sat up as he watched you start rifling through your suitcase, trying to look for semi-decent clothes.

“Baby, come back to bed.” 

His expression hardened slightly when you ignored him, when you shook your head and said, “I’m going into work today. Just for today while I think about things.”

“Come here.” He warned, sitting up a little straighter and scooting closer towards the edge of the bed so he could reach you. When you don't respond, he grits out your name and suddenly the atmosphere gets a whole lot tenser.

“I said come here.” When Blue sees he finally has your attention, he grips your wrist and pulls you back onto the bed, his eyes boring into yours. You can’t tell if he’s truly angry or if it’s something else. All that you know is that his tone indicates you don’t wanna fuck around with him right now.

“You’re staying here for today. You’re not leaving this fucking building. Okay? Is that clear? Or do I need to spank it into that pretty ass of yours so you actually understand me?”

any interaction is appreciated :) woohoo two chapters back to back!! teehee blue gets angry when dat boi dont get his way. btw guys what are you hoping to see happen between them... I def wont take inspo..

<- ch. 3 ch.5 ->

[hunnywritesthings]

Enter: Dirty Girl (ch. 3)

<- ch. 2 ch. 4 ->

There's this blinding light in me, delicious crimes in me, creeping vines, strangling, rocking back and forth, untying me

Club!Blue Jones x Fem!reader

authors note: holy shit!! sorry for not updating, huge writers block and ugh, I cannot for the LIFE of me write smut, so I struggled up until yesterday where I churned out FOUR THOUSAND WORDS? but y'know what, fuck it we ball!! next chapter is gonna be more storyline heavy. more development of their relationship. fic title from a song called "Enter: Dirty Girl" by Christina Navarro.

word count: 5.1k words

content warnings: NSFW!!! unprotected p in v, sorta name calling, lots of swearing/crude language, it's just a whole lot of poorly written self indulgent smut tbh. (anything else i need to add lmk)

You could hear music seeping into the hallway from the main part of the club, cheering and laughter reverberating off the walls and fading into the background as you’re led further into Lennox.

Blue said he was taking you to your room, but honestly? The place was like a fucking labryinth. You’d already turned a few corners, your eyes flitting to each door that you passed like maybe you’ve finally reached your destination. But no, it’s like Lennox had never-fucking-ending hallways and twists and turns. 

Blue’s hand was on the small of your back, walking behind you as he led you deeper into Lennox. Surprisingly, you’d passed a few of the dancers, the girls wearing revealing costumes, and some of them with guys trailing behind them. Some of them looked at you in pity, others curiosity. What the hell did you get yourself into?

The hand that was on your back slid around to hold your waist, tugging you to a stop in front of a door, one farther from the others and more pristine. Just a dark wooden door, no signs or markings or scuffs. Blue fishes the keys out of the inside pocket of his tux, grumbling for a second before unlocking it and leading you inside.

Shit, if it didn’t smell like tobacco before, it sure as hell did now. That same warm, woody, velvety aroma that you knew all too well from the smoke shop. Like the rest of Lennox, it was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from a small lamp on the bedside table. The king sized bed was adorned with dark red silky sheets and a fluffy black throw blanket draping over the side of the mattress. 

“Bathroom’s over there, there’s fresh towels already on the counter.” Blue led you to the bathroom connected to the left side of the room, stopping right before the doorway so you could go inside by yourself. His hand lingered on your waist for a moment before retracting, clearing his throat and turning around as you closed the door. 

“I’ll be right back babycakes, take your time,” He called out from the other side of the door. Stilling your movements of getting undressed, you could hear the bedroom door opening and closing, and if you listened really closely, the faint sound of the lock clicking could be heard.

Well…You might as well make the most of your situation, right? At least it was better than sleeping in your car again.

Stripping your clothes and turning on the shower, you waited for the water to warm up. Maybe you’d been a bit naive for taking Blue’s offer, knowing the type of man he was. The problem was that you didn’t know what type of man he was. He could be plotting something, yes, that would be fitting for his drug distributor and club lifestyle, but you only knew that from your manager. You were jumping into everything head first with no idea what you were doing—

The steam slowly filling the bathroom snapped you out of your head, reluctantly pulling back the curtain of the shower to step under the scalding hot water.

The water sputtering from the shower head almost burned you, that’s how hot you set it to. Adjusting the temperature did little to nothing, skin red and sensitive as you began scrubbing away the grime from days of living in your car.

You stood under the stream of water, finishing lathering your body and starting to shampoo your hair. For a club, the water pressure wasn’t that bad. Well, technically for a brothel. Techincally…both, maybe? It was better if you didn’t think about it, the image of the girls you passed earlier crossing your mind. Maybe you shouldn’t have taken Blue’s offer. 

Nevertheless, you finished showering. Snagging the fresh towel that was laid on the counter, you dried your hair and wrapped the fluffy towel snuggly around your body. At least you were clean, albeit smelling like sweet fruit and vanilla. It clashed with the overall warm leathery-scent of the place, your nose scrunching up as you stepped outside the bathroom and got hit with that cinnamon scent.

“You sure took your time, angel.”

Oh shit. Did you really take that long? You hadn’t even heard Blue unlock the door, and your brain didn’t register his presence in the dim lighting. But what you didn’t miss was the way Blue was staring at you, his gaze falling to where your hands gripped the towel around yourself. 

“Sorry. It’s kinda hard to keep track of time here.” You confessed quietly, shifting your grip on the fluffy towel and shifting from foot to foot nervously.

“Oh no, there’s no need to apologize, dove,” Blue reassured with what felt like a mocking smile. He was standing by a small side table on the other side of the room, before slowly crossing the room and sitting down on the edge of the bed in front of you. “Gave the boys enough time to get your bags from your car.” He nodded over to where he was just standing, your suitcase and purse under the table.

“Oh..Thanks.” You trailed off slightly, glancing at your bags to find that they looked…sort of tampered with? Your purse looked just the tiniest bit scuffed up—so did your suitcase. 

Sensing your lingering hesitation, Blue’s hand found your waist again, bringing your attention back to him. He pulled you closer to stand between his now spread legs, his other hand coming up to gently cup your face.

“Such a pretty thing,” He murmured, a smirk tugging on his lips as he pulled you closer, the hand that was on your hip sliding down to your waist to splay over the back of your thigh. “Surprised that your boyfriend let a sweet thing like you go.”

Your face twisted into something between conflicted and aroused. You don’t remember the last time anyone touched you like this—not like Blue did. But then again, you’d just been kicked out and broken up with, your emotions were all over the place. But the fluttering in your stomach? Yeah, that was real. 

Blue’s eyes met yours, studying your expression with a poorly concealed smirk. The hand that was cupping your face slid down your arm and then landed on your hip, his thumb caressing the soft material of the wet towel. He knew what he was doing, he recognized the conflicted look on your face. He heard the slight hitch in your breathing, the way you shifted your thighs together slightly.

“Let me take a look at you, yeah sweetheart?” Blue asked almost sweetly, his fingers ghosting over the back of your thigh once more before both of his hands slid up the sides of your body and to the top of the towel. “This is okay, right?”

The question was less of…well, a question, and more like it was a command. When Blue sees you nod reluctantly he lets out a soft laugh, his right hand moving up to cusp the back of your neck and then grip your damp hair. He pulled you down so that you were at eye-level with him, bending awkwardly to comply with the position. “Words, babycakes. I know that there’s some thought in that dumb brain of yours, hm? So use your words.”

“...Yes.”

Blue raised an eyebrow, almost laughing at your hesitant voice.

“Yes what, angel?”

“..Yes, this is okay. I..want you to touch me.”

You cringed a little at your own words. In your defense, you’d never thought you’d be in a situation where you may potentially have sex with the owner of Lennox. Okay, maybe you’d thought about it, ever since he came into the shitty smoke shop you were working at, grabbing your chin and calling you all those petnames. You hadn’t not thought about it.

Blue didn’t even bother hiding his smirk, his tongue poking out to wet his lips, letting go of his hold on your hair to move his hands to where you were gripping the towel around you.

“You want me to touch you? Such a dirty little thing, hmm? What would your ex think, seein’ you all desperate and squirmy?”

A shiver ran through your body and down your spine as Blue tugged the towel down and the wet cloth fell to the floor in a heap. His words alone made you squirm, but the way he looked at your body made you squirm even more. You didn’t know whether or not to be embarrassed or turned on.

His hands came up to your hips, looking back up to your face with a grin. His right hand came up to grip your chin firmly between his thumb and his index finger, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“Your ex-boyfriend is a fool for lettin’ such a beautiful woman like you go, angel.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at that, your face definitely felt like it was on fire as you tried to find the words to respond. How the hell would you even respond to that?

Blue must’ve noticed your flustered expression, because tightens his grip on your chin, pulling you down to press a searing kiss to your lips, deceivingly deep and trying to come off as tender.

When he finally pulls back, he stands, switching your positions so he’s standing and his hands are pushing you to sit down onto the bed. Blue lets go of your chin in favor of slowly dropping himself to his knees in front of you, his hands rubbing up and down your thighs before pushing your legs open slightly.

“C’mon dove, lay back for me. You want me to make you feel good, yeah?”

Blue asks with a faux sweet tone, his hands still trailing up and down your thighs, his thumbs grazing the inside of your thighs. Too light to be pleasurable, but present enough to make arousal pool in your gut.

Apparently you don’t answer fast enough for him, your mouth slightly ajar about to answer before he brings one of his hands up to roughly nudge the side of your head, like trying to tap some sense into you.

“Dumb baby can’t speak, huh? I asked you a question. Are you just gonna sit there lookin’ at me all stupid, are you not gonna answer me?”

You paused slightly, looking down at Blue as he sat on his knees in front of you, shifting against the bed to soothe the anticipation clawing its way up your spine. It was almost surreal. One moment you were outside in your car and now you’ve got the owner of Lennox at your feet. He was looking at you oh so sweetly but it almost seemed mean. 

“..What was the question again?”

Blue outright laughed at that, his fingers digging into your thigh as he did so. He pushed you back onto the bed and you landed on the comforter with a soft oof, stilling when you felt his hot breath brush over your mound. He had pulled your body off the bed slightly so your hips were barely on the mattress, both of his hands returning to your thighs and gently caressing them with his thumbs. 

“Are you seriously that dumb? What, has it really been that long since someone’s touched you like this? I haven’t even touched that sweet pussy yet and you’re already acting like I fucked you stupid.”

His head dips down, teasingly peppering kisses to the inside of your thighs, leaving a soft trail of kitten licks and little bites as he works his way closer to where you can feel the heat radiating off of you. The quiet sound of Blue groaning fills the room as he finally makes contact with your cunt, his tongue dipping between your folds and poking at your entrance. You feel your breathing hitch, your legs instinctively trying to close around Blue’s head.

You can feel Blue’s hands force your legs back open, his grip on your thighs tightening, his tongue delving deeper as his nose ends up brushing against your clit. 

“Oh fuck honey, you taste so good,” Blue murmurs against you, feeling your juices soak his chin as he latches onto your clit, kissing and sucking and even going as far as licking you from one end of your cunt to the other. “Greedy fucking pussy, basically weeping for me, huh baby? Isn’t that right, dollface? And I haven’t even fucked you yet..”

His words make your head spin and you find yourself squeezing your eyes shut, but it does little to alleviate the dizzy feeling you feel not only behind your eyes but in your stomach. Your hand flies down to grip his hair, tugging it roughly and practically squishing his face against your core.

“Blue—oh god, please,” You whined, earning another groan from Blue as he continued to lap at your dripping pussy. 

“Please what? Words, angel, use your big girl words. I know you can slut, I wanna hear you.”

“I need you—oh fuck—I need you to fuck me,” You panted, your words interrupted by the occasional moan.  your eyes roll back slightly as Blue starts to dip his tongue back inside of you, your clit grazing against his nose every time you rock your hips against his face.

“You want me to fuck you? Is my tongue not enough for you, huh slut? Hm, my dirty girl? Not enough for your greedy cunt?”

A frustrated cry rips from your throat as Blue pulls back, squirming when his hands continue to force your thighs apart. You feel your pussy clench around nothing, a warm feeling settling over you and in your stomach. Your cheeks heat up at the humiliating position, spread open for Blue, who’s still fully clothed.

“And why should I, huh? You park your boyfriend’s car outside my club for three days, sweetheart, it’s almost like you wanted me to notice you, hm? ‘S that mean you’ve been thinkin’ of me?”

A different sort of tension hangs over the two of you now, your eyebrows furrowing. What the fuck? He’s still talking about the parking? You peek open your eyes and bring your gaze down to meet Blue’s, your lips parting in confusion. 

“..I didn’t have anywhere else to go, why are we still talking about th—”

Thwack!

You yelped as Blue’s hand came down hard against your thigh, subconsciously trying to squirm away from his hands. 

“Not the answer I was lookin’ for, dove. Try again.”

A gasp slips past your lips as Blue’s left hand comes up to grip your hair, forcing your neck to crane uncomfortably to look down at your thighs and the red handprint slowly forming. You prop yourself up on your elbows, eyes searching Blue’s expression for any sort of joking or deceit. His expression wasn’t one of anger, no, you would know if he was angry. He just stared back at you, raising an eyebrow expectantly. When you hesitate, his right hand meets your thigh again, closer to your aching pussy this time. 

“Answer me, sweetheart. Why should I fuck you? Why should I fuck you?”

 You felt a lump form in your throat, swallowing thickly as you silently stared up at him, tensing slightly as you watched Blue raise his right hand slowly. All you knew was that the arousal was starting to fog your mind, god, you couldn’t even remember the last time a guy looked at you like Blue did. Out of sheer desperation to get laid for the first time in what felt like an eternity, you decided to play along with his words.

“..I was thinking of you,” You mumbled softly, your heart rate picking up as you echoed his words from a few seconds ago. “Ever since you came into the shop.”

Shit. You hadn’t meant to say the last part out loud, but it wasn’t entirely a lie. You had been thinking about Blue ever since he came into the shop. Ever since he gripped your chin and called you all those mockingly sweet names.

The corners of Blue’s mouth tug up into a smirk, lowering his raised right hand to gently rub over the spots where he slapped your thigh. The contrast in touch made your head spin once more.

“Have you now? Can’t get me off your mind, hm? Is that why you complied so easily? Letting me see you naked. You hardly even know me angel, yet you’re basically begging me to fuck you.”

The hand that was gripping your hair untangled itself and returned to your thighs, kneading the soft flesh for a moment before Blue withdrew his touch altogether. You let out a soft whimper at the loss of contact, letting your head fall back against the soft sheets. Your gaze stays trained on Blue, watching him as he stands up. He sheds his suit jacket, throwing it haphazardly onto the corner of the bed. You watch the way he rolls his sleeves up, before you watch his hands move down toward his belt.

"Hands and knees, sweetcheeks. Unless you want me to stop right now.”

You scramble to flip over, feeling your face heat up as you get on your hands and knees, still close to the edge of the bed. You peek your head over your shoulder to meet Blue’s gaze, but he’s eyeing up your dripping pussy and the way you clench around nothing but air.

Before you get the chance to say anything, he’s pulling and tugging at your hair to force your head forward. You hear the familiar sound of a belt being undone and you wriggle your hips in anticipation. 

Blue lets out a gruff laugh, absolutely no warning before—

Thwack!

“Look at you, angel, already wet and gaping. Fucking slut.”

Instead of pure stinging pain, it morphs into something else, a deep warmth in your tummy spreading once more. A moan slips out of your throat as you feel your eyes grow heavy and lidded.

“Please fuck me Blue, I.. I’ll be a good girl.”

You cringe again at your own words, but it fades as soon as you feel a soft splat of Blue’s spit hit your already dripping pussy. There’s no time to react before he pushes two fingers into you, curling them to try and find that sweet spot that’ll make you tremble.

“Fuck this pussy’s so tight,” Blue groans, thrusting his fingers deeper when he hears your whimpers and feels the way your walls flutter around his digits. “Gonna feel like heaven around my dick, so fucking tight..”

You let your lips part and a slew of lewd moans and soft noises of pleasure slip out of you, your hips rocking and trying to fuck yourself back on Blue’s fingers.

Just as soon as he was scissoring you open, his fingers slide out with a gross schlick, and he wipes it on the back of your thighs. 

“Gonna be good for me and take it all, right? Right, dove? Gonna feel this sweet pussy milk the shit outta me..” Blue grumbles, mostly to himself at the end as he tightens his grip on your hair. His free hand fishes into his boxers, letting out a low moan as he gives his throbbing cock a few strokes.

The stretch you feel as he pushes his way to the hilt was indescribable, feeling your eyes roll back slightly as it just kept going. Every inch pushing into you, his veins rubbing against your fluttering walls, both of you moaning as he finally pushes all the way in. Fuck, it felt like his tip was kissing your cervix, you felt like he was splitting you open.

“Shit you’re so tight you’re stranglin’ my dick baby, relax a bit, cmon,” Blue coaxes gently, but his tone borders on strangled as he impatiently waits for you to adjust.

“I’m trying, ah—shit you’re big,” you moan, feeling your arms wobble and your legs tense as you fail to adjust to the sheer size of him. 

“Has it really been that long since you got laid?”

The way Blue asks that is taunting, mocking even, but the way his free hand gently runs up and down your side and caresses your hip is an obvious attempt at trying to get you to loosen up.

“Just—give me a second, holy shit..”

Your breathing is a little sporadic but it eventually evens out, and you finally feel yourself relax. The stretch wasn’t all that painful now, but instead you felt your clit throb at the feeling of being so utterly full. 

“..There we go baby, you were as tight as a fucking virgin..” 

Your lips part to shoot back a mocking response but it’s cut off by a whine as Blue starts moving. Long, slow, languid thrusts, each hitting that sweet spot deep inside you. You feel like you’re arms are gonna give out, your limbs turned to jelly, especially once Blue starts moving faster.

A nasty schlick, schlick, schlick slapping sound reverberates through the room, and you’re reminded of just how wet you are. Blue’s hand is still buried, tangled in your hair, rocking you back onto his dick with each thrust.

“Oh fuck baby, this what you wanted? yeah? Poor pretty pussy just wanted my attention, right?”

You couldn’t find the words to respond, your eyebrows knitting together as you tried to focus, as you tried to fight the fog clouding your brain with just how fucking deep Blue was able to hit. Every thrust, nudging right up against your cervix, every slap of his balls against your throbbing clit and the way his pace only seemed to be gaining speed.

“Cmon, let me hear you angel, let me hear how much you like this, hm?”

The moan that ripped from your throat wasn’t intentional, and neither was the way your eyes rolled back when Blue hiked his leg up onto the edge of the bed so he could press into you deeper and faster. 

“Oh fucking come on, you can do better than that, louder!”

You let out a strained cry, from both pain and pleasure, as Blue spanked you once more, his hand gripping your ass and slapping the soft flesh harshly once more. Another moan and gasp left your lips as he tugged on your hair again, in time with the rocking of his hips.

His thrusts only grew deeper as you fluttered around his cock, your walls clenching rhythmically as if trying to suck him in deeper.

“Shit, you gonna come already? That fast? God, you really are a dirty girl,” Blue scoffed, his own eyebrows furrowing as he quickened his pace. He pulled out so just his tip was snuggly inside of your weeping pussy, before slamming all the way back into the hilt. It punched the air right out of you, your jaw going slack with silent moans and whines. “Such a pretty fucking pussy, god, if I knew you were this big of a whore I would’ve taken you right there in that shitty smoke shop.”

The familiar feeling of orgasm started to build up, coiled tight inside you and only coiling tighter when Blue slams into you particularly hard, brushing against your g-spot repeatedly.

“Oh shit, Blue, ‘m gonna come..”  

“Yeah? That means you want me to pull out, right?”

What?—God no, what in the hell? You shake your head furiously, gasping and gripping the sheets tightly between your fingers.

“No, don’t pull out, ah—fuck,”

The pleads spilled out of you, and you felt yourself tighten around Blue as he began to pull out, torturously slow and languid. He stops when once again, nothing but the tip of his leaking cock is plugging you, before pushing back in just as slow as he pulled out.

“Shit, angel, squeezin’ me so tight..” Blue breathes out, the hand that was tangled in your hair finally releasing it’s grip. Both of his hands settle on your hips, a low hiss leaving him as he resumes his relentless pace, rutting into your tight, wet heat, until you can feel his cock throb inside of you. 

“You want me to come inside you? Fill this sweet cunt up? Make you my personal cumdump, huh?” Blue growls, gripping your hips harder, his nails digging into your skin. Every thrust rocked you against the bed, feeling your eyes grow heavy and lidded.

Without warning, Blue pulled out, leaving you to let out a low whine at the gaping feeling of emptiness. He flips you around so that you’re laying on your back, grabbing your chin to force your gaze to meet his. 

“Such a pretty doll,” He purrs softly, his hands guiding your legs to wrap around his waist. “Here’s what we’re gonna do baby. I’m gonna fill this sweet cunt up, and when you finally come, you’re gonna thank me.”

There’s little time to react before the hand that was gripping your chin slides down to your throat, squeezing just enough to make your thoughts fuzzy. With his other hand, he guides himself back into you, his relentless pace starting up again. For a guy who runs a brothel, he sure fucks like he’s desperate to come. You don’t dwell on the thought, because soon enough the familiar heat returns to your gut. 

The lewd sound of skin slapping skin fills the room, accompanied by Blue’s moans alongside your own noises. His hand leaves your throat, and he laughs at your small noise of protest. But the touch isn’t cut off for long, Blue’s hand instead immediately comes down to your chest, pinching and twisting the sensitive perky buds between his thumb and index.

“So responsive,” Blue coos mockingly, the smirk returning to his face while he watches you arch up towards his touch. “No wonder you seemed so uptight, you just needed someone to pound this pretty cunt silly. Isn’t that right, angel?”

You don’t know how long it goes on for, the torturous back and forth between Blue slamming into you and him thrusting so slow it feels like it takes hours for him to fully sheath his cock inside of you. You’re convinced you’ve gone crazy, until he sets a brutal, relentless pace, his hand that was once fondling your tits (putting it lightly) returns to your neck and squeezes.

“Fuck sweetheart, you feel so good I don’t even wanna let you come,” He groans, moving his hand away from your neck and untangling your legs from around his waist. He pushes your legs up so you're basically almost bent in half, putting you into something that resembles a mating press. “So goddamn good baby, ah—wish I could keep you like this forever, my cocksleeve,”

The new position makes his dick feel even bigger, slamming deeper and against your g-spot repeatedly. All that comes out of you are moans and whimpers, not like you’d be able to say anything else. You’re being fucked stupid, what did you expect?

One of Blue’s hands snake between your legs, and you can tell he’s nearing his orgasm by the way his thrusts grow sporadic and frantic. You can feel the pad of his thumb rub tight circles around your clit, and it makes your eyes roll back and your legs tense. 

“Blue, ‘m so close..” You whine, a weak warning as your walls flutter around his cock once more, rocking your hips up to meet Blue’s thrusts. Each thrust is another time Blue’s thumb brushes over your clit.

“Come on my cock baby, c’mon, I know you can do it,” He groans, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he watches your orgasm build before you crash, searing pleasure coursing through your body as you reach your climax. “There she is! Whatd’ya say? Use your manners, angel,”

You’re fucked through your orgasm, limp and melting like putty against the bedsheets as you look at Blue, eyes raking over his form and the way sweat is starting to drip down from his temple. 

“Thank you—oh fuck, thank you Blue..”

That just about does it for him.

“Shit, shit, gonna fucking fill this tight cunt up, prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, oh god—”

Blue’s babbling like you’re the greatest thing to ever walk this Earth, mumbling under hist breath about how good you feel, and you even catch a few “you’re so pretty”s thrown in there too. He thrusts inside of you once, twice, before pushing in all the way to the hilt and going still, painting your insides white with ropes of thick come. Just the thought makes you shiver, squirming around his dick while you’re trying to catch your breath. 

He’s panting, giving you both a second to cool off before he pulls out and kicks off his shoes, crawling on to the bed and leaning back against the headboard. Blue pulls your limp form to be pressed right up against his side, your head against his chest. If you tune out his breathing you can faintly hear his heartbeat. 

“Might gotta get you in the bath again,” Blue grumbles softly, leaning down to press a kiss to your hair, wrapping his arm around you to rub your back. You shiver once more when you feel his hand slide down to cup your ass, dipping between your thighs and pushing his come back into your pussy like he could keep you full of his seed. “I don’t want my good sheets getting dirty.”

You scoff lightly, brain fuzzy from the sex, but also the realness of it all. Pressing your cheek against the fabric of his dress shirt, he gives your ass a few playful pats, before letting his head lean back against the headboard. He runs a hand through his hair, fixing it slightly from where it was starting to fall on his face. 

“The first thing you’re worried about is having your sheets ruined?”

Blue looks down at you with a raised eyebrow, just studying your face, trying to gauge your expression and your tone. 

“What? You’re a messy girl, angel. Your thighs are soaked still.” He looks pointedly down at your thighs, his hand coming down to spread them and see the damage he’s done. His tongue peeks out to wet his lips once more once he sees your puffy lips and probably sore, aching pussy.

Your cheeks heated up again, embarrassment crawling up the back of your neck. You felt like your body was on fire, and not just because of the sex.

“...What now?”

“What do you mean, what now? We get you in the bathtub, that’s what.”

“No, I mean—the whole staying here thing. Is this.. Just a tonight thing?” “...Worry about that later, baby. We’ll actually actually talk once I clean you up. Hm?”

any interaction is appreciated :) I promise i'm gonna put more time into actually writing you guys!! I swear..

<- ch. 2 ch. 4 ->

[hunnywritesthings]

blue jones aaashhshajajhsajh

don't even fucking ask me what this is, i only remember writing this at 2 am on a school night ok

nsfw below the cut

while I feel like he would still call u things like "sweetheart" or "baby" or “darling” those just in general aren't my favorite for ANY character (don't come at me pls)

(for at least my writing) feel like he would use like angel, dove, babycakes, angelface, dollface

prolly wont openly give u affection around other ppl but behind closed doors?

freak in the sheets what can i say

prolly wont touch u in front of other people nd he likes when u get frustrated by it

if he does touch u in front of other ppl its rough and def not gentle

he gets jealous and possessive and then prolly fucks u extra hard 

while hes working

“oh fuck angel, your greedy fuckin’ pussy just crying for me, huh?”

hes got you bent over his desk, pulling on your hair to make you look up at his office door thats cracked open, slick wet sounds filling the room

“you want someone to walk in and see you like this? taking dick like you were meant for it, yeah dove?”

he yanks on your hair, spanking you a few times until you moan loud enough for it to be heard out in the hallway

“there she is, fuckin’ louder—louder!”

pulling your hair isnt enough so he ends up grabbing your chin and forcing it towards the door, before his hand slides down to your neck to squeeze

“this what you wanted? yeah? poor pretty pussy just wanted my attention, right? ‘s that why you let those men get all handsy? with my cocksleeve? what, you think they could fuck you better than i do?”

ahem

anyways

hes also prolly a submissive little bitch tbh

sorry folks i dunno how to write sub men yet but i’ll work on it just for blue i promise

although he basically runs like a drug n gambling business he will NOT touch that stuff

feel like drugs are a big no no for him idk

i cant explain it it just feels right to me you just HAVE TO TRUST ME

i only say this because i feel like he would haaate to be out of control of his own body

he js likes control like that okay

doesnt like guns (as said in movie) but will fuck u with a gun pressed to your head with no like ammo in it idk what its called

probably has made u dryhump his nice shoes before

“stupid horny puppy, humping my shoe like a dumb bitch in heat, huh?”

oh yeah prolly likes petplay (thank u to my mootie sugarsweetdollie for discussing this with me) 

prolly would like u being his puppy but also being UR puppy

am i right lads or am i right lads

prolly buries himself between your thighs

whimpering when u tug on his hair

looks up at u while he’s eating u out

“oh fuck honey, you taste so good..”

out of breath and lapping at u like a dog

whos the bitch in heat NOW 

cough cough

this mf prolly kinky as hell

def a switch

while i can imagine him subbing more often than not i still feel like he’d be a mean ass dom

oh blue jones what a stupid bitch i hate you

will sub for u only if he trusts you ok he’s a little shy thing ok

is also loud in bed

and not just like moaning like actual talking

flipping between degradation and praise 

i like to think he’s very manipulative ok

it’s a mindfuck to fuck him

get what i did there

ahem

random but i feel like he would be good at math

just a thought

[hunnywritesthings]

Enter: Dirty Girl (ch. 2)

<- ch. 1 ch. 3 ->

There's this blinding light in me, delicious crimes in me, creeping vines, strangling, rocking back and forth, untying me

Club!Blue Jones x Fem!reader

authors note: super rushed and i actually hate this butttt i rlly wanted to just get this posted... just like 2k words of straight bs bro... no smut but there will be next chapter I promise!!! this chapt is just moving the story along ok idk.. fic title from a song called "Enter: Dirty Girl" by Christina Navarro.

word count: 2.2k words

content warnings: swearing, mentions of drugs and tobacco, alcohol, reader has a (very brief) crappy boyfriend (anything else i need to add lmk)

“You’re kicking me out?” 

“Yes I’m kicking you out, are you deaf?” Your boyfriend sneered, mocking you as he lay lazily on the couch. The apartment was filthy, his living habits were disgusting, and you should’ve been glad to get out of there. Except for the fact that it was the only place you had to stay.

“So, is that it? Does this mean we’re done?” You scoffed, standing in the living room doorway watching your boyfriend (or maybe ex-boyfriend) rot into the couch.

“If it means you’ll get the fuck out of here, then yes.”

You should’ve seen it coming. He wasn’t exactly the greatest in the first place, verbally belittling you and openly making lewd comments about other women. You’d been saving up what shitty money you had left over to move out and into a nicer area of the city, but now you’d been officially kicked out. Exiled. Cast away.

“You can’t just–throw me out, I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Does it look like I care? Just get the fuck out of here,” he groaned, dragging his hand down his face in exasperation. 

“Fine! This apartment’s a goddamn pigsty anyways.” you retorted, crossing the living room to enter your shared bedroom. Well, guess it’s not very ‘shared’ anymore. Snatching up a small suitcase from the closet, you begin to pack the essentials; clothes, a few toiletries, whatever personal documents of yours that you had filed away. 

As tears streamed down your face, you couldn’t quite tell why you were crying. You hated your boyfriend, you hated the apartment you were bound to most days. You hated this life, so why did it hurt to leave?

Rushing back into the living room and into the foyer, you held your suitcase in hand, grabbing your purse and slipping on your shoes. You peeked your head into the living room to check if your boyfriend was paying attention, before plucking his car keys and dashing out the front door, slamming it behind you. 

Clearly that got his attention, a string of profanities and protests could be heard as you rushed down the hall and down the stairs of your apartment building. 

”You fucking bitch! I swear, you’re all the same, fucking whore! Good-fucking-luck finding someone else to take in your snobby ass!”

Snobby? You weren’t snobby. You just figured you deserved a little bit more than basic respect. But you didn’t exactly have time to dwell on that thought, instead trying to figure out where you were supposed to go now. The stairwell was quieter once you reached the lower floors, exiting out to the parking lot with your belongings clutched tightly in your hands. 

Living out of your car was nothing new. You’d done it occasionally in your dad’s car in high school, when you just needed an escape from being at home. But you’d never done it for an extended amount of time, no, never for more than a day or two. All of your friends lived out in the city (you kind of doubted that you could still call them friends, you hadn’t talked to them in a few years), and your family? Yeah, no way in hell you’d willingly go back there. 

It’d been almost a week now, and you found yourself rotating between sleeping parked in some shitty little grocery store parking lot, and other times you’d just park somewhere on the street and call it a night. You didn’t drive far, saving up what little money you had for food and using whatever you had left for gas. 

Shifts at the smoke shop continued, your manager giving you a few questioning looks when he saw you sleeping in your car, but no real comment was made. No real show of concern. As long as you showed up for work, he didn’t care. 

For the last few nights, you’d chosen to park across the street from Lennox. Just for pure convenience, you told yourself. It was within walking distance from the smoke shop, so why the hell not? And so you find yourself sitting in the car, practically freezing your ass off and trying to drown out your thoughts by listening to the music coming from within the club.

You’d parked there at 9 pm, about the time that Lennox started to open for the night. It was well past 11 pm by now, and you felt like you were going insane. At first the music helped. You didn’t.. recognize most of the songs, but music is music. It distracted you, until it didn’t, the loud yelling from inside the club and the occasional heated protests from guys who got kicked out. That was the first strike. The second was the actual smell of your now ex-boyfriend’s car. It reeked of those little tree car air fresheners. What the fuck kind of scent was black ice? It made you nauseous. 

Reaching over the center console and into the glove compartment, you let out a soft, relieved breath as you found it. A small bic lighter and a pack of cigarettes. The brand you didn’t really pay attention to, you couldn’t bring yourself to be picky right now. Marlboros, Camels, they all left a crappy taste in your mouth and your hair smelling like smoke. 

Smoking was never something you’d consider yourself doing enough times that it became a habit. Sure, you’d bum a few cigarettes off your friends in high school, sometimes you’d steal one or two from your (now ex)boyfriend. But the situation seemed fitting. Might as well start now, right when you feel like things couldn’t possibly get worse.

Lighting one up and taking a drag, you cracked open the window for some fresh air. Despite it being around the time you’d usually go to bed, it wasn’t hitting like normal. The loud music and ruckus from Lennox across the street wasn’t any help either.

Not long after you heard applause the song changed from inside, you saw one.. No, two men–bodyguards, the same ones that you saw at the smoke shop–emerge from the grand double doors of the club. Oh shit.

What the hell were you supposed to do in a situation like this? Start the car and just drive off? And then what, make it look like you were some kind of criminal? Especially considering you’re in possibly the worst part of town, you were outside a club that was a front for one of maybe the most powerful men in this area, and–oh shit they’re already at your car.

Knocking on the window, the taller of the two men gave you a look of suspicion. You kind of just sat there for a second, glancing between him and the windshield and the steering wheel. Taking a quiet deep breath, you slowly rolled the window down fully, cringing as it made a weak squeaking sound. 

“You can’t park here.”

“And.. why can’t I park here?”

“Blue says you’re ‘scaring away the customers’. His words, not mine.”

You raised an eyebrow at that. Scaring away the customers? What, the gross 40 year olds that were constantly flowing in and out of Lennox? Yeah right, you thought with a mental scoff, I’m not doing shit to the customers. You were just sitting in your car. Albeit, yes, it was your ex’s car, and it was.. Old and beaten up. But that doesn’t make you a threat. 

You let out a soft sigh, your gaze falling back on the windshield and thinking quietly. It was probably best to just park somewhere else. It wasn’t like you were busy or anything. But you’ve been through too much hell this week to just give up and roll over. 

“Let me speak to Blue.”

The bodyguard gave you a look. Something that said "lady, are you crazy?” But it seemed to have worked, the man glancing out at his counterpart before stepping back to allow you out of your car. 

“Today’s your lucky day, ‘cause Blue was hoping to speak to you too.”

You didn’t know what you expected the inside of Lennox to actually look like. You didn’t have much time to look around, one of the bodyguard’s hands wrapped tightly around your wrist as he pulled you through the crowd. It was a blur, really, people cheering and watching girls perform on stage, men laughing loudly and some openly wolf whistling. It was a club afterall, you shouldn’t be surprised. But for the brief, maybe thirty seconds, you were weaved between men and bottle girls, cocktail waitresses and hostesses alike, it was disorienting. The lights were low and you could barely see where you were going, hearing a few curses behind you as you definitely stepped on at least one or two of the patrons’ shoes. 

It didn't last for long, for soon you were pulled somewhere backstage and down a dim corridor, before stopping abruptly in front of an office. The bodyguard that was gripping your wrist knocked on the door. You heard an “It’s unlocked,” faintly coming from the other side. 

Your nose scrunched up as a familiar smell assaulted your senses, the warm air and distinct with the smell of a certain woody, leathery tobacco. Blue Jones, the man himself, sitting at his desk. A cigar in one hand, and a glass of whiskey in the other. The bodyguards pushed you inside, both of them gripping your shoulders and sitting you down on the chair in front of his desk. You plopped down with a soft huff, your eyes switching between studying Blue’s office and Blue himself. 

“CJ, Danforth, I’ll take it from here,” Blue waves his hand dismissively, not even bothering to look up at the two men. “Go make sure things run smoothly.”

Blue’s eyes stay stuck on you as you hear the two men behind you exit the office, shutting the door behind them. He taps the cigar gently against the ashtray, slowly exhaling smoke that coiled up towards the ceiling, before fully setting the cigar down. Taking a sip of whiskey, his gaze stays trained on you, trying to read your expression.

You clear your throat softly, your gaze dropping to his lips, the way they curl upwards when he catches you watching him, before your eyes snap up to meet his. You speak up first, your fingers in your lap twisting the hem of your shirt.

“This isn’t really about the whole parking thing, is it?”

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips as he looks at you over his glass, swirling the amber liquid slowly.

“No, actually, it is,” Blue smiled, something falsely comforting as he leaned forward. “You’ve been parked out there for four days. And I know that ain’t your car, sweetheart.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, watching Blue as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his desk.

“Who’s it belong to? Hm?” Blue tilts his head, his tone dipping into mocking as he studies you intensely. “ ‘Cause whoever it is, he’s been comin’ here for a few months now. Personally never seen the guy myself, but I’ve seen that car before, parked outside.”

That makes you even more confused—hell, even a little hurt. He was a shitty guy, sure, and yes he openly flirted with other girls, but him being so secretive about this place threw you off. It was just a club, why’d he have to go behind your back? He wasn’t ashamed about being unfaithful, so why start now?

“...Ex-boyfriend.” You murmured, deflating a little bit as you sink back into your chair. Lost in thought, you were quiet for a moment, trying to figure out how to go about this without putting yourself in danger. “Kinda took his car when he kicked me out.”

“Kicked you out?”

Oh shit. You hadn’t meant to say that—

“..Yeah.”

You hadn’t meant to say that either. Maybe telling your living situation to a sketchy club owner wasn’t your smartest move. 

“You need a place to stay, babycakes?”

No, definitely not. Sure, last week when Blue came into the smoke shop, you’d been curious. Curious about Lennox, about him. But now? Your situation was dawning on you, you’d just told Blue jones—who ”doesn’t mess around” as your boss put it—that you were basically fucking homeless. Way to go.

“Uh…I don’t have any money.” You mumbled, your head bowing slightly so you didn’t have to make eye contact with him. It was a weak excuse, you had money, but hearing the echoing of music and laughter through the halls of the club and through the walls of Blue’s office, you were beginning to rethink things. 

Blue just laughed softly at your reply, downing the rest of his whiskey and placing the glass down on his desk with a loud thud. 

“Money? Don’t be silly dove, I wouldn’t charge sucha pretty thing like you,” He smirked, as if it was obvious he was willing to take you in. “You’re gonna take a nice, hot shower. I’m gonna get a room set up for you. And then we’re gonna have a chat, okay angel?”

Well…You didn’t really have anything to lose at this point…And taking a shower did sound nice. So did sleeping on an actual mattress. With a lot of reluctance you nodded slowly, opening your mouth slightly to reply but snapping it shut when you hesitantly glanced up at Blue. 

“Good. Now let me show you to your room, hm?”

any interaction is appreciated :) also happy valentines day! maybe gonna write the next chapter TONIGHT.. (stay tuned its gonna be smut)

<- ch. 1 ch. 3 ->

[hunnywritesthings]

Enter: Dirty Girl

ch. 2 ->

There's this blinding light in me, delicious crimes in me, creeping vines, strangling, rocking back and forth, untying me

Club!Blue Jones x Fem!reader

authors note: this was written at 12 am on a school night, not beta read, and also my first time posting any of my writing on tumblr soo.. yeah! this is just the first part, nothing really special, just like an intro tbh (no smut this chapter, sorry folks), obviously, i'm planning to write way more but i just wanna get this first part posted. fic title from a song called "Enter: Dirty Girl" by Christina Navarro.

word count: 1.5k words

content warnings: swearing, mentions of drugs and tobacco (anything else i need to add lmk)

You never understood why Lennox House was just so popular. It wasn’t in the.. nicest part of town. Walking down the street past Lennox was always a little scary, men hunched over with one arm bracing themselves up against the wall, throwing up, sometimes coughing up blood. It reeked of cheap alcohol and tobacco. Unfortunately for you, you had to walk past it every day to get to work. 

The shitty smoke shop you worked in gave you a headache. What else would you really expect working in a place that literally sells tobacco? Not that it was your place to judge, but sitting in a tiny ass store with an earthy, smoky sort of sweet scent got to you eventually. You wondered if this was what Lennox smelled like too.

Your headache worsened every time a customer came in, and it worsened more when your manager came out of his office. Thankfully, it was only once in a blue moon that he ever came out. It was even rarer that when he came out he actually talked to the customers. “That’s why I hired you,” he’d sneer, shooing you away from his office and back toward the register. God you wanted to kill him, just strangle the guy, but nowhere else was hiring. And so you were bound to the shitty side of town, working in a shitty smoke shop and living with a shitty boyfriend. 

You couldn’t remember anything particularly special about today. Just that your boyfriend left for work earlier than usual, that your walk to the shop was eerily quiet, and that it felt like a weird fog had rolled in that made everyone just act…weird. 

Clocking into work, you passed by your manager’s office, peering in only to see him on the phone, voice low and hushed. Huh.

”Yeah, I got your shit–package, I’ve got your package. Yes, I’ll see you at noon.”

When he saw you peeking inside he rose from his chair behind his cluttered desk, shooting you a warning look as he got up and shut the door. You could still faintly hear conversation on the other side, but you couldn’t bring yourself to think anything of it. Settling behind the counter, your nose scrunched at the smell of bleach and way too citrusy cleaning product. 

Watching as your manager emerged from his office, you quietly cleared your throat.

“Did you clean the place? It smells like someone dumped Lysol and lemons into a bucket and let it sit overnight.” You murmured, glancing around the shop–usually messy and unorganized, now looking somewhat presentable. 

“I’ve got someone coming over at noon, don’t be weird about it,” Your boss grunted, pointing a threatening finger at you before motioning to the back storage room with his thumb. “I’ve got new stock I need you to put out.”

You sighed quietly, muttering a small “okay, I've got it,”, before going over to the storage room to look around for whatever new product you were supposed to put out. 

It wasn’t anything special, really, just another brand of cigars. Your nose scrunched slightly at the smell, strong and leathery smelling, and the little five packs weren't even opened yet. Twirling one of the individual boxes in your hand, you inspect the package, trying to identify what was so great about these particular cigars that they needed your attention immediately. 

Heading back out to the front of the store, you set the case up on one of the shelves, slowly adjusting it to look nice, because there really wasn’t anything else to do. You glanced at the clock as time ticked on, 8 am, 9 am, 10 am, 11 am, counting down the seconds before your shift was over. 

Your manager had come back out of his office (huh, twice in one day), giving you small tasks so you looked busy (or something like that). You just shrugged it off, it was better than staring at the clock. You were kneeling down, one of the glass display cases open as you adjusted some of the fancy looking lighters and ashtrays. 

The little bell dinging as the shop door opened fell deaf on your ears, you’d learn to tune it out and only really speak to customers if they had questions of when they were ready to check out. What you didn’t learn to tune out, and what caught you by surprise, was the hand that gripped your chin and forced your gaze upwards.

“Well aren’t you a pretty thing, hm? Your boss ever told you it’s rude to ignore customers?”

The man looming above you seemed familiar. Slicked back hair and a stupid mustache, wearing a..tux? Not that out of place if someone entered with purchasing some fancy ass luxury cigars in mind, but on this side of town? Not many guys walked around like that, unless–

“You work at Lennox.”

“Ah. So she speaks,” The man teases with a smirk, letting go of your chin as you rise to your feet. “I’m the owner, dove.”

Your eyes rake over him as he walks up to the counter, leaning on it slightly and tapping his fingers impatiently. Your gaze flicks over to his two bodyguards, silently standing tall and near the door. Your cheeks flush a little, taking in the situation. The owner of Lennox, in a shitty smoke shop that you just so happen to work at. The owner of a literal club that you walk past every day, scrunching your nose at the loud music and yelling that came from inside the building.

“You just gonna stand there, angel? Or ya gonna go fetch your boss for me?”

His words snap you out of your trance, and you murmur a soft apology before stepping down the hall and towards your manager’s office. You can practically feel a pair of eyes on you, as if the man back at the front of the shop was undressing you with his eyes. Assessing the sway of your hips and your posture as you knock on the office door.

“We’ve got compan–”

Before you can even finish your sentence, your manager swings the door open and pushes past you out towards the front, greeting the men with a cheery voice you’ve never heard before.

“Ah, Mr. Jones! Long time no see, hope the club is treating you well,” your manager all but exclaims, stepping behind the counter and taking something out, a few fancy cases of cigars as well as a neatly packaged box, wrapped with brown paper.

You peek at them from the hallway, just watching the strange interaction. Blue was standing with his arms crossed, an unamused expression as he glanced down at what was laid in front of him. Blue leans over the counter, muttering something quietly to your manager, before Blue’s eyes land on you as they talk. It made your skin crawl, the way he unabashedly looked at you, your body. You squirmed under the sudden attention, still awkwardly lingering in the hall.

With two fingers, Blue motions to his men to grab everything, reaching his own hand into the inner pocket of his tux, sliding over an obviously stuffed envelope, most likely filled with cash. You gather the courage to walk back out there, hesitating as you stand a little awkwardly at the end of the counter. Blue leans towards your manager once more, before straightening up and walking towards the door. He glances over his shoulder, looking back at you with a deceivingly charming smile.

“We’re always hiring, angel face. Just in case you ever get bored of this old dump.”

With that, the bell jingles and the door opens and closes, and Blue is out just as fast as he came in. You look back at your manager, a look between “what the hell was that?” and “I’m not hallucinating, right?”

“What’s his deal?” You manage to mumble, your eyes flitting between your boss and the clear glass of the door. 

“Who, Blue? He owns Lennox.”

“Yeah, I sorta figured that part out on my own. I meant what the fuck was that about?”

Your manager scoffed at your language, snatching up the envelope Blue had slid to him and tearing it open unceremoniously.

“The club is just a front for all sorts of shit. Drugs, gambling, stuff like that. He runs the whole operation, doesn’t mess around either. I go over there sometimes. For the girls, not the drugs and gambling.” Your face scrunches slightly in disgust at the thought of your manager actually in Lennox, it almost makes you want to gag. You tune the rest of his little speech out, and eventually he retreats back into his office to count his profit. You’re left standing behind the counter, eyes glued to the door like if you stared hard enough, Blue Jones himself would come back. Huh. What a weird guy. What a weirdly charming, almost creepy fucking guy. You kind of wondered what it’d be like at Lennox House.

any interaction is appreciated :) still don't know exactly where this fic is gonna go, soooo (def gonna be leading up to NSFW tho)...

ch. 2 ->