#warning: probably excessive use of italics for emphasis

[angst-fairygodmother]

Break My Heart Right: Worth the Wait (Luba x Reader)

A/N: I was going to do more friendship, but I’m a hopeless romantic, or something.  Word Count: 1853 Content Warning: Swearing, vague references to sex work,  Cross-posted to AO3 Taglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak (let me know if you want to be added)

Luba had asked for time, and you were willing to give it, though you weren’t actually sure what it was time for. You stopped going on dates, awful or otherwise, and were surprised to find that you didn’t miss them, much preferring the nights like tonight where you stopped for takeout to bring home to your and Luba’s apartment, quietly sharing a meal together after your workday was done and before his began.

“Y/N,” he said, greeting you warmly as the door swung shut behind you. “I am so glad you’re home.”

You narrowed your eyes in playful suspicion as he took the food from you and set it on the counter. 

“That sounds like you want something from me,” you accused, receiving an appalled gasp in response.

“I would never,” he pouted. “Although…”

You quirked an eyebrow in response to his pleading look, mossy eyes round and soft and threatening to melt you into a puddle right there on the living room floor.

“I know you just got home and you are probably exhausted buuut there’s a couple gentlemen coming in tonight who are the kind of important that got the whole place shut down exclusively for them.”

“The club or…?”

Luba shook his head. “And.”

You let out a low whistle. To have the kind of pull to get Rhonna to shut down both her businesses (“inherited” from Maksim) for a night took a lot of dough, or power. Your stomach twisted nervously, for Luba’s safety and everyone else involved’s.

“We’re supposed to pull out all the stops. So some of the girls and I were hoping...we could get a true artist to help us get ready?”

You sighed, knowing you couldn’t say no to him (or to the very large stack of cash you’d get from Rhonna for your work). 

“I’ll go grab my kit. You do something about dinner,” you conceded before dramatically blowing a kiss to the takeout, leaning back to keep it in your view as you headed for your room. “Farewell, sweet ramen. You would have been delicious.”

~

Arriving at Foreign Dreams, one of the bouncers stopped you at the door, a massive meaty hand bumping your chest as he held it out.

“Sorry, private party, no entry tonight,” he said, tone and expression indicating he didn’t care enough to actually be sorry.

Luba shot him a surprisingly venomous sneer. “They’re with me,” he snapped, “here in a professional capacity.”

To emphasize his point, you gently shook the small of the bags in your hand, brushes rattling together. The guard continued to stare, unmoved. Luba scoffed, tossing his whole head as he rolled his eyes, reaching back to grab your wrist and pull you past, with or without permission. 

“Y/N!” Nyssa, one of Luba’s newer coworkers, cried, rushing over to greet you. “Oh I am so glad you came! A couple of us had a pool over whether Luba could actually convince you to. Everyone’s going to be so glad, except Tanya and Kanwal since they lost the bet. Now we can really go all out! What are you doing standing out there?”

Under the weight of Luba’s irritation and Nyssa’s incessant babbling, the bouncer relented, allowing you to pass. You muttered a sarcastic thank you as you passed him. 

“Do you think you’ll have time to help all of us? There’s so much left to do. Most of us are in such an unfinished state, and Luba’s not even started!” Nyssa chattered on. 

At the sound of his name, the man in question pouted, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you close.

“Y/N is mine,” he said petulantly.

The words sent a shiver down your spine and you hoped neither of them noticed the way you flushed under the club’s icy blue lights.

“There’s plenty of me to go around,” you joked, trying to keep your voice light. “I’ll get you all dolled up in no time.”

“Oh I am so glad you said that!” Nyssa beamed, leading the way toward the back where everyone was getting ready. 

“‘So glad!’” Luba mocked softly in your ear, breath tickling you. 

You shook your head, silently laughing at him as you followed the girl in and looked for a good place to set up. 

Tanya greeted you with a hug. “Did you at least make him beg?” she joked. 

“Nah,” you replied, nudging her. “But only because I like all of you so much.”

You looked around the room, taking in everyone in varying degrees of undress and disarray.

“Alright, what have I got to work with?” you asked loudly, planting your hands on your hips as you called their attention.

~

You stood over Luba, carefully applying his signature silver-white eyelashes, one hair at a time. For all that the others liked to tease, his was actually the easiest look to perfect, and strangely soothing after rushing about for them all. 

“I meant what I said, you know,” he said, almost too casually. “Unless something’s changed?”

You swallowed heavily, thankful that endless practice let you keep your hands steady. 

“You know it hasn’t,” you answered, voice barely above a whisper. “But…”

“You’ve always been here, and I can’t imagine life without you,” he admitted softly. “I guess I just never thought about what that meant.”

“Is this really the best time to be talking about this?”

Your heart pounded rapidly as if it were trying to burst out of your chest and escape. But as much as you wanted to hear what he was saying, what it meant for you both, you didn’t want to do it while surrounded by people and trying to manage seven makeups, three body paints, and somehow more hairstyles than there were people in the room. Just as you placed his last lash, you caught sight of something that made your blood boil.

“Markus, I swear to god,” you called across the room, “if you scratch at your face and make me have to reapply those rhinestones again, I will break your fuckin’ fingers!”

The man in question dropped his hand to his side, whining that it was too itchy to resist.

“It shouldn’t itch at all,” you mused. “You might be having a reaction of some sort, I’ll be right over.”

You glanced apologetically at Luba and he made a shooing gesture with his hands. “We’ll talk later.”

~

You were packing up, finally done, alone in the back room, when arms wrapped around your middle. Instinctively, you jammed an elbow backward, feeling it strike followed by a pained groan. Whipping around, you found Luba, doubled over and clutching his stomach. You babbled out an apology, guiding him to sit as he struggled to regain his breath. 

“Are you alright?” you asked sheepishly.

“Oh sure,” he wheezed. “Just a little damage to my pride.”

“Good. That ego needed a little paring down.”

He pouted at you. You answered the expression with a smirk before growing serious again.

“What the hell were you thinking, sneaking up on me like that? You’re lucky all my needles were already packed or you might have lost an eye!” you snapped.

“I didn’t think you’d freak out. You don’t usually complain when I hug you.” 

“I usually also know you’re there. Or at least can pretty well guess from the fact that we’re at home, not in public where it could be anyone.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said apologetically. “This isn’t going well.”

Watching him reach up to run his hands through his hair and then freeze, not knowing what to do instead so that he didn’t mess up his look, you could feel the frustration radiating off him. You took his hands in your own, lacing your fingers together. 

“I’m guessing ‘this’ is the conversation you were trying to have with me earlier?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He looked at your hands, then back up at you. No matter how many times you had seen it, there was something disconcerting about his fathomless green eyes framed by those long, ethereal lashes.

“Y/N,” he breathed. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since you said you…”

“Loved you?” you finished when he seemed unable to say it. 

The vulnerable, almost fearful look he gave you in response squeezed your heart. Gently, you removed one hand from his so that you could pull over a chair, sitting across from him with your knees bumping. 

“Luba,” you said, twisting your hands to stroke your thumb over his knuckles. “It’s alright. You don’t have to say anything you’re not ready for.”

“I...I want…” he growled, still so frustrated with himself, finally sighing. “I don’t know how to do this.”

“There isn’t a how, babe. Unfortunately. You just...say stuff, and hope it comes out right?” you grimaced. 

“I need you, Y/N,” he said after a long pause. “And I don’t know what that means, but it scares me. I can’t lose you.”

“I can’t promise that I’m never going to leave, or that things won’t ever change. But I’m here right now, and not planning to go anywhere. Is that...enough?”

He leaned forward, letting go of your hand to frame your face with his long, graceful fingers.

“Yes,” he murmured, moments before he pressed his lips to yours.

His mouth was soft, slightly sticky from the gloss he was wearing, and those long lashes tickled against your cheeks as his eyes fluttered shut. You weren’t sure which of you was melting more into the other’s touch as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer until he perched in your lap. He nipped at your lip, tugging it gently between his teeth and you cracked your jaw with a soft moan, opening up and allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth to twine with yours. His actions had no technique to speak of, focused on emotion and connection rather than doing what was expected or “right”, even though you knew if he wanted to he could have made it a flawless one, and you thought you might explode. He slowly ran his fingers down your throat, across your collarbone, down your torso, exploring and raising a trail of fire where he passed.

All too soon for your liking, you were forced to separate as Rhonna called his name from the next room. He flushed prettily as he pulled back, staring down at you, the intensity in his eyes doing nothing to calm the heat at your core. You reached up, using the pad of your thumb to brush a smear of glitter and pinkish tint from the corner of his smirking mouth. 

“We’ll pick this up at home?” he asked in a tone that you would have called shy if you didn’t know him better.

“I can’t wait,” you answered, stealing another quick kiss before letting go so he could get to work, your heart soaring as he turned back to blow you another and wink before he disappeared through the beaded curtain that marked the boundary of the semi-private space.