Blades & Bass | BONUS Part6
Summary: After a text breakup, you and Gunner, reunite at the AMAs. A tense confrontation leads you both back to a hotel room, where a painful conversation about your incompatible lives dissolves into intense, emotionally charged, and rough makeup sex
A/N: This is the final chapter, and I'm finally letting go of Blades & Bass. I absolutely loved writing this fic, and I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed creating it! Also, this chapter is not proofread, and there’s a REALLY LONG SMUT ahead.
TW: MDNI, Porn with Plot, Oral Sex, P in V, Angst, Make-up Sex, Begging, Praise , Dirty Talk, Leg-Locking (tell me if i forgot some)
It had been a few days since the Met Gala, and your boyfriend had already warned you that he’d be incredibly busy prepping for Rolling Loud.
Now, the day of the festival had finally arrived, and you still hadn't heard a single word from him. You couldn't be there with him in Orlando because you were stuck in New York shooting some campaigns.
On the night of his set, you decided to tune into the livestream. Even if you couldn't talk to him directly, you figured it would still be nice to watch him perform.
Looking at the screen, the crowd was absolutely massive and deafening; you had never seen so many people gathered in one place. It was in that exact moment that it truly hit you just how big of an artist he really was.
He had dyed his hair red, just like he told you he would, but your heart pinched the moment you saw a girl all over him on stage.
You knew they were background dancers, that they were literally paid to be there and you usually weren't the jealous type. But after not talking to him for days, suddenly seeing him being so touchy with a girl shaking her ass right against him made you feel some type of way.
You didn't know why, but it made you feel incredibly sad. Maybe it was because it reminded you of how you two first started talking, how completely incompatible your two worlds actually were, and how much you missed out on by never being in the same city.
It made you realize just how much effort this relationship took, and how much more it was going to require in the future. You just knew you didn't want to live like this for the rest of your life.
You watched him for a few more minutes before closing your laptop and heading to bed. Sleep wouldn't come, though. Tossing and turning in the dark, you finally poured your heart out in a text message and hit send at three in the morning.
Y/N: i really didn't wanna do this over text but i've just been staring at the ceiling for hours and i need to get this out.
watching your rolling loud set tonight just hit me so crazy. you looked amazing and im so proud of you fr, but seeing you up there just reminded me of how completely different our worlds actually are. having zero news from you for days just to tune into the live and see you like that... it just made me realize how much this distance is actually hurting me.
i feel like we're constantly playing catch up and trying to force two lives together that just don’t fit. the effort this takes is so heavy, and honestly gunner, i don’t think i want to live my life like this. i don't want to always be the one waiting in a different city while you’re living in a whole other universe.
i love you so much and i meant everything i said in the car the other night, but i don't think we can do this anymore. we need to break up. please don't call me, i just really need some space to breathe right now. goodnight.
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You knew he wasn’t going to let you go that easily. He called you a hundred times, but you never picked up. Eventually, your manager got so tired of seeing his name pop up on your screen every time you were in a photoshoot or on the ice that she took matters into her own hands and blocked his number.
You didn't even realize it at the time, since you were way too busy training and doing everything you could to keep your mind occupied.
To top it all off, it was just announced that you would be hosting the American Music Awards in Las Vegas this year. Your life had changed so drastically over the past few months; you weren’t just an Olympic gold medalist anymore.
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Are Nettspend and Y/N Over?! 💔 Over the Weekend, the Former "It-Couple" Arrived Separately at the AMAs and Completely Ignored Each Other All Night
Fans are convinced that rapper Nettspend and Olympic gold medalist Y/N have officially called it quits after a very tense night at the American Music Awards in Las Vegas.
While Y/N was booked as a host for the evening, Nettspend was also in attendance, but the two did not walk the red carpet together. Throughout the entire event, eyewitnesses noted that the pair didn't interact once, completely avoiding each other in the crowd and backstage. This comes as a massive shock to fans who last saw them looking incredibly close during the Met Gala after-party season.
↳ yeah it’s over... nett looked so down the whole night and she didn’t even look in his direction while she was on stage hosting
↳ did anyone see him in the crowd while she was presenting? he literally looked like his dog died omg they definitely broke up
↳ she deleted the pics of them on her page too yall... yeah it’s confirmed bye 💔
↳ wait bc he looked so miserable on the red carpet too?? like he did NOT want to be there at all.
↳ they are 100% broken up. nett didn't even smile once when the camera panned to him during her opening monologue 💀
↳ the silence is deafening. usually he’s posting her on his story or something
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Leaving the AMAs, you walked out to your van. Suddenly, someone shouted your name. You turned around and saw Gunner running after you.
"Leave me alone, Gunner," you said.
"Wtf do you think you're doing?" he asked, catching up to you.
"I told you to leave me alone in that text, didn't I?"
"Yeah, without letting me talk," Gunner said, shaking his head. "I called you the last few weeks. Every day, every hour, but you blocked my number."
"I didn't block your number," you replied, looking around. "And be quieter, I don't want to cause a scene."
"Yes, you did," he insisted. "I keep ending up on your voicemail."
"Just get in the van," you whispered, pulling open the door. "I don't want people seeing us like this."
Gunner didn’t argue. He climbed in right behind you, and he slammed the door shut, telling the driver to head straight to your hotel. The interior of the van went quiet, save for the hum of the engine as it pulled away from the venue.
"I didn't block you, Gunner. Seriously," you said, turning to face him in the dim light. "I haven't even looked at my phone like that. My manager must have done it because you were blowing it up while I was working."
Gunner let out a frustrated breath, running a hand through his red hair. "I don't care who did it, Y/N. You broke up with me over a text message while I was in the middle of a festival. You think I was just gonna let that go?"
"What did you want me to do?" you asked, your voice dropping. "I sat there watching your live. You hadn't texted me in days, and then I see you on stage with girls all over you. It just made me realize how messy this all is. Our lives don't fit."
"That was a performance," he said, turning his head to look at you, his eyes dark. "You know how this shit works. It doesn't mean anything. The only person I wanted to be with was you, but you didn't even give me a chance to explain before you completely cut me off."
"It's not about the girls, Gunner. It's not even about the performance," you said, shaking your head as you looked out the window at the passing Las Vegas lights. "I know what background dancers are. It’s the fact that I had to find out what you were doing by turning on a livestream. You vanished for three days. It made me realize that when we're apart, I don't exist in your world, and you don't exist in mine."
"That's not true," he muttered, his voice cracking slightly.
You turned back to look at him, and the words died in your throat.
Gunner was staring down at his hands, his broad shoulders tense, but his chest was heaving. In the dim light of the van, you saw a tear slip down his cheek, catching the glare of the streetlamps outside. Then another one followed.
He didn't try to wipe them away. He just sat there, the tough, stoic persona he held for the rest of the world completely shattering right in front of you.
"I was just overwhelmed, Y/N," he choked out, his voice thick and trembling as he finally looked up at you, his eyes completely bloodshot. "The festival, the album prep, the label pushing me... I locked myself away because my head was spinning. I wasn't trying to ignore you. I was just trying to survive the week so I could get back to you."
He let out a shaky breath, a ragged sob escaping his throat as he reached out, his hand trembling as he gripped your wrist.
"Please don't do this," he whispered, the tears now streaming down his face. "I can't do this without you. Don't leave me."
You looked down at his hand gripping your wrist, your own chest aching as you watched him cry. You had never seen him like this. It broke your heart, but it didn't change the reality of the situation.
"Gunner, look at us," you said softly, your voice breaking as you gently pulled your hand away from his grip. "We’re already falling apart, and it’s only been a few months. If we keep doing this, we’ll never be happy."
He wiped his eyes quickly, shaking his head in denial. "We can fix it. I’ll change things. I’ll text more, I’ll call you every hour, I don't care-"
"It's not just about texting, and you can't just stop doing your job," you interrupted, a tear finally escaping your own eye. "Your career is exploding right now. Mine is too. We both have to give 100% to our work, which means we have nothing left to give to each other. We're just going to keep hurting, waiting for the next text, getting insecure, and crying in the back of cars."
You looked out the window as the van finally pulled up to the entrance of your hotel.
"I love you enough to know that we’re just going to destroy each other if we keep trying to force this," you whispered, turning back to him one last time. "We both deserve to be happy, Gunner. But we're never going to find that happiness together."
"I'm not saying I don't want you in my life forever," you said, your voice softening as you looked at his tear-stained face. "But right now? With everything going on? We just can't be together. We need to focus on ourselves."
"I don't care about right now, Y/N," he said, his voice raw as he shook his head stubbornly. "I can't just let you go. I'm not gonna sit back and just watch you become some stranger I used to know. I can't do it."
The van came to a complete stop in the hotel's private underground parking garage. The driver cut the engine, leaving the two of you in a heavy, suffocating silence.
You looked at Gunner, whose eyes were still red and desperate. You couldn't just leave him crying here, and you didn't want to cause a scene in the lobby if he followed you.
"Fine," you sighed, rubbing your temples. "You can come up. You can stay for an hour or two so we can actually finish this conversation properly. But that's it."
He nodded quickly, wiping his face again as he followed you out of the vehicle. You both kept your heads down, slipping into the private elevator that led straight to your suite. Neither of you said a word until the heavy oak door of your room clicked shut behind you.
You tossed your purse onto the entryway table and kicked off your heels, finally letting out a breath you felt like you’d been holding since the AMAs started. Gunner stood near the edge of the living area, looking completely out of place.
"You really think we’ll never work?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he broke the silence.
"I think we're trying to build a house in a hurricane, Gun," you said, turning to face him. "How are we supposed to be a normal couple when we barely see each other?"
"We don't have to be a normal couple," Gunner said, his voice dropping an octave, thick with desperation. Before you could even reply, he crossed the room and dropped heavily to his knees right in front of you.
Your breath hitched. You froze, staring down at him.
He wrapped his arms around your thighs, burying his face into the fabric of your outfit. His shoulders shook as he held onto you like you were his only lifeline. "Please, Y/N. I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll fly to New York every single weekend, I don’t care if I don’t sleep. Just don't give up on me. I'm begging you."
Looking down at him, a sudden, conflicting rush of heat flooded your veins. There was something intensely overwhelming about seeing him like this. This was the same guy who just an hour ago had thousands of people screaming his name, the guy who acted completely untouchable under the festival lights and now he was on his knees, completely at your mercy, begging just to keep you.
The sheer vulnerability of it, mixed with the lingering adrenaline from the night, made your stomach flip in a completely different way. Your heart was pounding, and a heavy, familiar ache started to settle between your thighs.
Gunner tilted his head back, looking up at you through his long eyelashes. His eyes were still wet, but as he felt the shift in your posture, his gaze darkened. He noticed the way your breathing had turned shallow, the way your fingers twitched against your sides.
"Y/N..." he whispered, his hands slowly sliding up from your thighs to your hips, his grip tightening as he pulled your body closer to his face.
"You’re too good for me, I know it," Gunner murmured, his voice a low, raspy purr against your skin that sent a sharp shiver straight down your spine. His hands stayed firmly gripped on your hips, anchoring you to him. "You're a gold medalist, you're the biggest thing in the world right now, and I’m just... I'm nothing without you, Y/N."
He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your bare thigh, just below the hem of your outfit, making your knees instantly go weak. You had to rest your hands on his shoulders just to keep your balance.
"Look at you," he whispered, tilting his head up to look at you with complete, unfiltered devotion. "You look so beautiful tonight. You ran that whole show. Everyone in that venue was looking at you, but now you're here with me. Please tell me I still have you."
He began to trail slow, agonizingly hot kisses up your thigh, his thumbs tracing tight, deliberate circles into your hips. Every word out of his mouth was laced with raw desperation, but the way his touch grew entirely confident told you exactly what he was doing. He knew the effect he had on you. He could hear your breath catching, could feel the slight tremble in your legs.
"You're perfect," he praised, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper as his lips brushed against the soft skin of your inner thigh. "Every single part of you. I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you just let me stay. Let me remind you how much you mean to me, Y/N. Please."
Your fingers tangled in his red hair, tugging slightly as a soft gasp escaped your lips. The contrast of his tear-stained face and the dark, heavy hunger in his eyes was completely overwhelming, completely erasing any thoughts of the distance, the texts, or the breakup. All you could focus on was the intense heat pooling between your legs and the way he looked up at you like you were his entire world.
He didn't waste another second. Slipping your clothes out of the way, Gunner guided you back until you were pressed against the edge of the entryway table. He stayed on his knees, his hands sliding under your thighs to lift your legs onto his shoulders, opening you up completely to him.
When his tongue first made contact, a sharp, involuntary gasp left your throat, your fingers instantly gripping the edge of the wood behind you. He was relentless, using the same fierce, obsessive energy he gave everything else in his life to completely unhinge you. He swirled his tongue around your sweet spot, pacing himself perfectly, knowing exactly how to make your hips twitch in desperation.
"I hate you," you choked out, your head tossing back as a wave of intense pleasure rushed through you. "Gunner, I swear to God, I hate you so much for doing this right now."
He paused for a fraction of a second, looking up at you with a dark, completely shameless smirk on his face, his lips wet and glistening. "I know you do, baby," he murmured. "You hate how much you need me. You hate that no one else can make you feel like this."
He dipped his tongue back down, tracing a long, wet line all the way up before focusing entirely on your clit, sucking it into his mouth. You let out a loud moan, completely forgetting about the hotel walls or the fight you had just had.
"Look at you, crying about a breakup but soaking wet for me," he muttered against your skin, turning his praise dirty as he felt your body begin to tremble. "You're so good for me, Y/N. Tell me it's mine. Tell me this pretty little pussy belongs to me and no one else."
"Gunner, please..." you whined, your toes curling as his fingers suddenly slid inside you, matching the fast, wicked rhythm of his tongue.
"Say it, baby," he growled, searching your face as his thumb worked your clit, pushing you right to the absolute edge. "Tell me you're not going anywhere."
"Fuck you," you gasped out instead, your voice breaking as you shook your head. You gripped his shoulders, trying to push him away or force him closer, you didn't even know which but you refused to give him the satisfaction of hearing those words. "Fuck you, Gunner."
The moment the words left your mouth, his tongue stopped completely. He pulled back just enough to look up at you, his fingers staying still inside you, holding you completely hostage right on the edge of a cliff.
The sudden loss of friction made you whine out loud, your hips instinctively twitching forward to look for his mouth, but he didn't budge. His eyes were entirely dark now, the vulnerability from before replaced by a stubborn, dangerous heat.
"What did you just say to me?" he asked.
"I'm not saying it," you breathed, glare matching his despite how badly your legs were shaking. "You don't get to just cry and then command me. Put your mouth back down there."
"No," he growled, a frustrated, angry smirk tugging at his lips as he tightened his grip on your thighs, locking you in place. He was getting mad now, too, the tension between you two snapping into pure aggression. "You think you run everything? If I don't get what I want, Y/N, you definitely aren't getting what you want."
"Gunner, I swear to God, I am right there," you yelled out, your hands bunching into the fabric of his shirt. "Don't do this."
"Then tell me," he challenged, leaning in close until his hot breath fanned against your wet skin, teasing you without actually touching you. "Tell me you're mine and you're not leaving. Otherwise, we can just sit here like this all night."
You stared down at him, your chest heaving, absolutely furious at how easily he could manipulate your body against your own will. The contrast was maddening, just minutes ago he was weeping at your feet, and now he was using the sheer weight of your own arousal to back you into a corner.
"You are an asshole," you choked out, tears of pure frustration pricking the corners of your eyes. Your hips gave a pathetic, involuntary twitch, practically begging for the friction he was withholding.
"I don't care," Gunner muttered, his jaw clenched as he stared right back up at you. His fingers inside you twitched just enough to make you gasp, but he held back from giving you any real relief. "Say it, Y/N. I’m not playing with you."
The tension in the room was suffocating. You wanted to push him off, to scream at him to get out of your hotel room and out of your life, but the ache between your thighs was entirely consuming. Every instinct in your body was screaming at you to just give in to get what you needed.
"Fine!" you cried out, your fingers digging so hard into his shoulders that your nails left red marks through his shirt. "I'm yours! Fuck, Gunner, I'm yours, okay? Just please-"
The victory in his eyes was instant and feral.
"Good girl," he growled against your skin.
He didn't make you wait another second. Gunner buried his face back between your legs, his tongue striking against your clit with a hard, heavy rhythm that made your vision instantly blur. At the same time, his fingers started driving inside you with a rough, punishing speed, hitting your sweet spot over and over again.
You completely lost control. A loud, unrefined scream tore from your throat as your orgasm crashed over you, your entire body seizing up as you clamped tightly around his fingers. Gunner didn't stop, swallowing your moans and driving you deeper into the climax until your legs were shaking so badly they could barely stay on his shoulders.
Gunner finally pulled his mouth away, panting heavily as he looked up at you. His lips were shiny, and his face was flushed from the heat of the moment. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, a dark, satisfied grin spreading across his face.
"Fuck, Y/N," he growled, his voice incredibly deep and rough. "I swear to God, I've never tasted pussy so good in my entire life. You're so fucking sweet."
Hearing those words out of his mouth while your body was still trembling from the aftershocks of the orgasm sent a fresh jolt of heat straight to your stomach. You didn't want to talk anymore. You didn't want to think about the distance, the drama, or tomorrow. You just needed him inside you.
Reaching down, you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him up. He stumbled up from his knees, his eyes locked onto yours as you wrapped your arms around his neck.
"Bed. Now," you breathed against his lips.
Gunner didn't hesitate. He hooked his arms under your thighs, lifting you effortlessly off the entryway table. You wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, burying your face in his neck as he carried you down the short hallway into the bedroom. He tossed you onto the plush mattress, immediately following you down, but before he could pin you beneath him, you rolled him over.
You pushed against his chest, forcing him onto his back. Gunner let out a low, gravelly laugh, his hands instantly finding your hips as you straddled his waist.
"Oh, so you're taking control now?" he teased, his dark eyes scanning your face, full of arrogant satisfaction.
You quickly reached down to rid him of the rest of his clothes, your hands shaking with impatience. Gunner watched you, his jaw clenched, his thumbs digging into your hips as he lifted his hips to help you. When he was completely bare beneath you, his length was thick and waiting, pressing hard against your thigh.
You didn't make him wait. Shifting your weight, you aligned yourself and slowly lowered your hips, taking him all in at once.
A loud, ragged groan tore from the back of Gunner's throat, his eyes throwing back as his head hit the pillows. "Fuck, Y/N... you're so tight," he gasped, his grip tightening on your hips until his knuckles turned white.
You threw your head back, a breathless sigh escaping your lips as you filled yourself with him. Once you settled against his hips, you began to move, lifting yourself up and sliding back down in a slow, agonizingly perfect rhythm.
Gunner’s hands guided your movements, his fingers bruising your skin as he pushed your hips down harder, meeting every single one of your strokes with a heavy, upward thrust. The anger from your fight turned into pure, unadulterated friction, the bed squeaking against the wall as you rode him in the dim light of the hotel room.
You leaned forward, your hair falling around your face like a curtain as you looked down at him. The power dynamic had completely flipped.
Before he could pull you down into a kiss, you brought your hand up to his neck. Your fingers wrapped firmly around his throat, squeezing just enough to cut off his breath.
Gunner’s eyes flew wide open, a sharp gasp catching in his chest. But instead of pushing your hand away, his grip on your hips tightened. A dark, wicked grin spread across his face, his chest heaving under you as he leaned up into the pressure. He absolutely loved it.
"Look at you," you whispered, your voice dropping into a mean, mocking tone as you kept riding him, your pace turning hard and relentless. "You're pathetic, Gunner. A second ago you were literally crying on your knees, begging me like a dog."
Gunner let out a choked, raspy laugh, his throat vibrating right against your palm. "Yeah? Tell me more, baby," he wheezed out, his eyes locked onto yours, completely unbothered by the insults. If anything, it was turning him on even more.
"You think you can just show up and fix everything with your mouth?" you sneered, slamming your hips down against his, making him groan loudly. "You’re so fucking selfish. You think the whole world revolves around you and your music, but right now you're just a joke."
"I am," he choked out, playing along completely, his hands sliding up your torso to rest over your heart. He let out another breathless laugh, his white teeth flashing in the dim light. "I'm your joke, Y/N. Do whatever you want to me."
"Shut up," you snapped, tightening your grip on his neck for a second before letting go, leaving the faint pink imprint of your fingers on his skin.
The sudden release of air made him gasp, his head tossing back onto the pillow as you kept up the punishing rhythm. Even when you were being mean, even when you were letting out all your anger on him, Gunner just lay there taking it with a smug, obsessed smile, entirely content as long as you were riding him and calling him yours.
As you continued to drive down against him, Gunner’s gaze stayed locked onto yours, heavy and completely entranced. He brought his hand up, tracing his fingers over your jaw before sliding two fingers straight between your parted lips.
"Bite down," he rasped, his voice rough and breathless.
You didn't hesitate, clamping your teeth down onto his fingers as you kept up the relentless rhythm. The taste of him mixed with the friction between your thighs sent a shuddering wave of heat straight to your core. He watched your eyes flutter, a satisfied chuckle vibrating in his chest as you sucked on his fingers, entirely caught up in the control you thought you had over him.
But in a split second, the dynamic shattered again.
Gunner suddenly gripped your waist with force and twisted his body. Before you could even register what was happening, you were flipped onto your back, the mattress absorbing your weight as he pinned you beneath him. The sudden shift left you breathless, your hands instinctively coming up to push at his chest.
"My turn," he muttered, his eyes dark and completely feral.
Before you could open your mouth to complain, his large hand came up, wrapping firmly around your throat. He didn't squeeze hard enough to hurt, but the heavy, authoritative pressure instantly cut off your speech, forcing your head back into the pillow.
"You had your fun talking shit, Y/N," he growled, a wicked, dominant smirk flashing across his face. "Now shut up and take it."
You glared up at him, your chest heaving as you tried to twist out from under him, your lips parting to yell at him but the words died in your throat. Gunner lifted your legs, pinning them high against his chest, and drove himself inside you in one deep, punishing stroke.
A broken gasp left your lips against the pressure of his hand. The sheer depth of the movement was overwhelming, hitting your sweet spot so perfectly that your brain short-circuited. Any anger, any desire to fight back or complain, completely evaporated.
He didn't give you a second to recover. Gunner began to fuck you with a fast, heavy, relentless pace that had the headboard slamming against the wall. Every time you tried to gather your breath to say something, he hit the perfect angle, sending a jolt of pure pleasure straight up your spine that turned your complaints into high-pitched, helpless whines.
"Yeah, that's what I thought," he whispered, leaning down so his lips brushed against your ear, his hand maintaining just enough pressure on your neck to keep you completely pinned. "Can't say a fucking word now, can you?"
The friction between you was blinding, the heat in the room rising until neither of you could think straight. Gunner’s pace turned frantic, his breath hitching as his body tightened completely over yours. You could feel the contractions starting deep inside you, the tension building to a point that felt almost unbearable.
"Y/N... I’m gonna go," he gasped out, his voice raw as he tried to shift his weight back. "I need to pull out, baby, let me-"
"No," you whined, completely lost to the pleasure.
Before he could slide out, you threw your legs around his waist, locking your ankles together behind his back with all your strength. As an athlete, your grip was ironclad. Gunner let out a ragged groan, trying to pull away, but you arched your hips up to meet him, burying him as deep inside you as possible.
That was the breaking point. Gunner’s head fell into the crook of your neck as his body shuddered violently, spilling himself inside you. At the exact same moment, your own orgasm crashed over you in intense, heavy waves. You cried out, your fingers digging into the muscles of his back as your walls clamped tightly around him, pulling every last drop out of him.
For a long minute, the only sound in the room was the heavy, synchronized panting of both your chests. Gunner collapsed against you, his forehead resting against yours, his skin slick with sweat.
Slowly, the fog of adrenaline began to clear, leaving behind the quiet, heavy reality of the two of you tangled together in a Vegas hotel room.
Gunner leaned up slightly, his eyes soft and completely vulnerable again as he looked down at you. He reached up, gently brushing a stray piece of hair away from your damp forehead. Then, he leaned down and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your lips.
"I love you," he whispered against your mouth, his voice thick with emotion. "I swear to God, Y/N, I love you so much."
You looked up at him, your chest aching with that familiar, painful warmth. Despite the distance, the fights, and how messy your worlds were, looking at him right now made everything else fade away.
"I love you too," you breathed, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down for another kiss.
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