criebaybie

Ok so like this is def a bit angsty, BUT what if Harvey and reader were previously in a relationship but they end things on a sort of bad note. Harvey sees reader with her new partner and just kind of has to pretend that everything is fine. Of course inside he’s dying of not only jealousy, but all he can think about is how much he misses reader and how he wishes it ended differently 🥺🥺🥺

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒪𝓃𝑒 𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒢𝑜𝓉 𝒜𝓌𝒶𝓎 ✧･ﾟ

ᴏᴍʟ ʜɪɪɪɪ, ᴀɴɢᴇʟ♡ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ꜱᴏ ᴄᴜᴛᴇ.

The image of Harvey seeing her happy with someone else and realizing that’s supposed to be him… excuse me while I go cry.

⁀➷✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ⁀➷✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

The gallery was Donna’s idea. Harvey had said no three times before she gave up pretending to ask.

“A contact of mine is showing. Be seen, shake hands, remind people you exist outside that office.”

He’d agreed because it was easier than fighting. Because the alternative was his apartment and a bottle of Scotch and the voicemail he’d erased forty-seven times but still knew the words to.

He didn't know you'd be there.

He felt you before he saw you. That’s the thing about loving someone — your body learns theirs. The weight of their presence becomes a sixth sense. So when the air in the room shifted, when the low hum of conversation acquired a frequency he couldn’t name, Harvey’s hand tightened around his glass and he knew.

He turned.

And there you were.

Your hair was still long, catching the gallery’s warm light, and he remembered exactly how it felt sliding through his fingers. Remembered the weight of it pooling on his pillow. The way you’d laugh and pull it over one shoulder when you were about to say something you knew would annoy him.

He'd told you once, half-asleep, that he liked it long. You elbowed him and said shut up. But obviously never cut it.

And then he saw the dress.

Black. Simple. A cut that fell just above the knee, with a neckline that made his mouth go dry.

The first time you wore it, he barely got you through his apartment door. His mouth was on your throat before the lock caught, his hands already bunching the fabric up around your waist.

He had you on the kitchen counter, the marble cold against your bare thighs, your legs already wrapping around his waist. You clung to him like you’d fall apart if you let go, nails raking down his back through his shirt, and he buried his face in your neck.

You were wearing that dress. With someone else.

The man beside you had his hand on the small of your back, casual and proprietary. Liam. Harvey remembered the name from the office gossip he pretended not to listen to. Some tech guy with a jawline and a watch that cost more than Harvey’s first car.

Good for you, he thought, and the thought tasted like battery acid.

You laughed at something Liam said, and the sound hit Harvey in the chest like a physical thing. He knew that laugh. Knew the way it started in your stomach and climbed out like it couldn’t help itself. Knew what made it happen — the right joke, the right touch, the right look.

Liam was giving you the right look.

Harvey set his glass down on a passing tray before he crushed it.

“Harvey.”

Donna materialized at his elbow, her voice carefully neutral.

“I see her.”

“I can get you out. Back door, thirty seconds.”

“No.”

He said it too fast. Too sharp. Donna didn’t flinch, but her silence was louder than any question.

“I’m fine,” he said.

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“I’m an excellent liar.”

“To everyone else.” Donna’s hand brushed his sleeve. “Not to me. Never to me.”

He didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Because you were turning, and your eyes were scanning the room, and he knew, he knew... the exact moment you found him.

Your smile faltered. Just a fraction of a second. A blink-and-you-miss-it slip in the performance.

Then it was back, polished and bright, and you were walking toward him.

“Harvey.”

Your voice. God, your voice. Like honey and gravel and every morning he’d woken up next to you.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

The endearment slipped out before he could stop it. Old habit. A muscle memory his tongue hadn’t unlearned.

Something flickered in your eyes and you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. A nervous gesture you’d always had, one he used to tease you about.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” you said.

“Didn’t expect to be here.” He let a half-smile curve his mouth. “Donna’s idea.”

“Donna has good ideas.”

“She thinks so.”

The silence stretched. Around you, the gallery buzzed with wine-fueled conversations and the scrape of expensive shoes on hardwood. But between you, there was nothing but the six inches of air that felt like a canyon.

Liam appeared at your shoulder, hand settling on your waist. Right where Harvey’s used to.

“You must be Harvey.” Liam extended a hand, smile professional and warm. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“All bad, I hope.”

He laughed. Harvey didn’t.

“All professional,” Liam said. “You’re kind of a legend around your office.”

“Kind of.”

Your jaw tightened. You knew that tone. Knew the way Harvey could make any compliment sound like a threat.

“We should let you mingle,” you said, taking a half-step back. “It was good to see you, Harvey.”

“Good to see you too.”

He held your gaze for a second longer than he should have. Long enough to memorize the way you looked in that dress. The dress you were wearing home with another man.

That dress belongs on my floor, he thought. You belong in my bed. This belongs back together.

But he said nothing.

You turned. Liam’s hand stayed on your waist. Harvey watched you disappear into the crowd, and the Scotch in his hand was suddenly the only thing keeping him upright.

Donna appeared again. Said nothing. Just stood beside him, a silent anchor.

“I’m fine,” he said again.

“I know.”

She didn’t believe him. Neither did he.

He drained his glass and set it down. Let himself imagine, for just one moment, what it would feel like to walk over there. To take your hand. To say the words he’d been too proud to say when it mattered.

I miss you.

I wish it ended differently.

Please.

But Harvey Specter didn’t beg. Harvey Specter didn’t lose.

Except he had. He’d lost you. And standing in this too-bright gallery, watching you walk away, he realized some losses didn’t get easier.

They just got quieter.

He straightened his cuffs. Fixed his face into something presentable.

“I need another drink,” he said.

Donna nodded.

pairing. fratboy!benito x shy!reader

After the party, there's a lot of explaining to do.

Last Part | Part 7 | Next Part

wc. 6.3k | My Masterlist

notes. gosh there's actually sooo much dialogue in this one! we're on the slope down towards the end, but there's just a little more drama to happen in between, so stay tuned! tags. bad bunny x fem!reader, slow burn, angst, college AU, mentions of casual sex (always consentual) and drugs and alcohol, mentions of being drunk, some violence, but doesn't get to explicit. the both of you switch between english and spanish often, spanish isn't translated, and spanish is part google translate/part research

Benito’s eyes snapped open at the sound of your phone ringing. 

As his eyes adjusted to the light, it took him a long few minutes to recognize where he was, but when his eyes landed on you in the bed he’d left you in, he soon realized he was still in your room and on your couch. 

He watched as you scrambled to look for your phone, still mostly unaware of your surroundings. Quickly, you found the device you were looking for in your back pocket. As you pulled it out, you squinted at the screen for only a moment before sliding to answer it. 

“Hi Grandpa.” Your voice was groggy. You shuffled in bed, hoisting yourself up into a sitting position, laughing lightly as you responded, “Yeah, I guess you’re right. It is kinda late in the day over here, it’s around noon–” 

Beautiful eyes had slowly drifted over to the couch, catching sight of the battered and bruised figure laying on it. You froze for only half a second as you locked eyes; there was a lot of commotion happening on your features as you seemingly started to piece together the events of the night before.

You didn’t have much time to think though, as a muffled voice sounded on the other end of the receiver. Just as soon as you’d made eye contact, you were looking away again - anywhere else - and that hurt the boricuan to his core.

“Well, it’s the start of our Spring Break this week. I’m starting early this weekend.” 

Benito could hear who must’ve been your grandpa give a loud cackle. He sucked in his lips and turned his head toward the ceiling to hide his own smile. 

“How are you? It’s been a few weeks…” 

Only barely were you still slurring your words. Benito knew you still must’ve been a little drunk, as it had only been a few hours since you’d gotten into the room. He wondered if your head was still spinning, or if it hurt, or if it was a combination of both.

He went back to watching you when he heard you starting to move around. Keeping your phone against your ear, you’d thrown your legs over the side as you listened to your grandpa talk, letting them hit the floor as you rose carefully.

Concern laced your face as you stole another glance back at Benito, and it dawned on him that he hadn’t looked at himself in a mirror. He’d done his best to wipe the blood from his face very briefly at the party, but now he could feel it crusting in his mustache and was all over the front of his shirt. His body felt stiff and his face hurt more than he anticipated. 

“That’s good. Sounds like a fun couple of weeks,” You said to your grandpa suddenly, breaking Benito out of his thoughts, “I’m glad you’re making more friends.” 

Wobbling a little, you took a few cautious steps toward your little kitchenette, only slightly closer to the couch and to Benito. You opened your fridge, reaching in for something that he couldn’t see. He was hoping it was water, because you needed that.

“Yeah, they’re no abuela, I’m sure.” 

There was a certain sadness to your voice at the mention of your abuela; you seemed to always get emotional while talking about her. You went quiet as you listened again, your movements becoming slower as you put all of your concentration on what your Grandpa was saying. But the more he spoke, your face started to fall into a frown. 

“You know they don’t want me back this summer.” You started to stammer through what was a very blatant lie, “But maybe I can find a week while they’re away to fly out and see you.”  

After finding what you were looking for in your fridge, you took a step back, turning towards Benito on the couch, now holding a frozen bag of veggies. 

Carefully, you approached the man on your couch with a cautious expression. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you as you were so clearly confused about everything happening and whatever was being said over the phone. 

He wished he could’ve reached up and wiped it all away for you.

Instead, he sat as still as possible as you placed the bag gently on his right eye and the bridge of his nose. He hadn’t realized just how bad his nose was hurting until the cold immediately started to soothe him. Immediately his eyes shut in response and he sighed out. Reaching his hand up to take the bag from you, his warm hand brushed against yours and you lingered there for just a moment. 

Again, he’d almost forgot you were in the middle of your conversation until you ripped your hand away with a short, frustrated groan.

“Well, no one’s made an effort to come and see me yet either.” 

Benito opened his eyes again after hearing the pain in your voice. Your jaw was starting to tighten, and he automatically began to sit up on the couch. He kept the bag pinched to his nose, but his eyes were trained on you. It was the most unfocused he’d seen you other than the night before; you didn’t know where to look or what to do with your hands. So, you were just standing in the middle of your room; your entire being as stiff as a board.

A stern voice sounded - too muffled for Benito to hear clearly - and after a moment, you looked defeated as your face fell,

“Sorry.” 

And again, the air went quiet as you listened.

Benito wondered then what was going through your mind exactly. You’d obviously been through a lot in just the past few hours, let alone the last couple of weeks, and he was sure whatever information you were processing at the moment wasn’t easy on you. 

He wished he could’ve done more, but he still wasn’t sure what would be appropriate.

“I know she would have. She was always good at mediation…” you whispered with a melancholy smile, “I’ll try, Grandpa, but I still need more time. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. How about that?”

Just barely after a short pause, Benito made out the phrase ‘I love you’ from the other man on the line.

“Love you too.” You murmured. 

With that, you dropped the phone away from your ear and threw it on the bed, turning to face Benito. The air went silent once again, but this time with a new sort of tension. He watched as your eyes darted across him and then down to your body; it’s like he could hear the gears grinding in your skull. 

“Your Grandpa?” 

Benito was the first to speak, wanting to try to break the tension. He didn’t like the thought of immediately launching into hard topics, so he figured he’d ask something mundane like who was on the phone instead. He wasn’t sure what all you remembered from the night before, but by the look on your face, he figured it wasn’t much. 

“Yeah,” You sighed. There wasn’t much emotion in your voice as you continued,  “He’s in a facility now, and he hasn’t been liking it. My parents visit him pretty often though. Most of the time, he still thinks I’m fifteen.”

“¿No quieres verlo?” 

“Of course I want to see him, but–” You huffed, smacking your arms to your side, and suddenly, you were turning back to him. Anger built in your voice again, matching the tone from the balcony, “Ni siquiera sé por qué estamos hablando de esto. There are more important conversations right now. Like, why are you here on my couch?” 

“I’m sorry.” Benito raised a hand in surrender, “Quería asegurarme de que estabas bien.”

It took you a long moment to process, but you huffed again, “How did we get to my dorm?” 

“I drove you here.” He spoke matter-of-factly, trying not to say anything to set you off, “Te saqué las llaves del bolsillo. Lo siento.” 

Another long few seconds passed as you scanned him over once again.

“Your face, Benito…” 

Again, worry laced your features. He still hadn’t the slightest clue what he looked like, but by the way you kept looking at him as if he were Frankenstein’s monster, he was sure it looked pretty bad. 

“Deberías ver al otro tipo.” He flashed a small smile to you, trying to be funny, but quickly saw that you weren’t in the mood for quips. “Luis was saying some awful things about you, and I–” 

“Luis? As in my date, Luis?” 

That same pang of jealousy flashed through Benito’s chest, “Sí...” 

You scoffed, “Podría haber sido cualquier otro, pero por supuesto fue mi cita quien dijo esas cosas horribles. And what did he say that was so awful?” 

Of course you were doubting him; he’d honestly suspected that from you. You had every right to be angry still, but it didn’t hurt any less. Benito closed his eyes and leaned the back of his head against the cushion of the couch.

The thought of repeating the vile fucking words that came out of that bastards mouth had Benito reeling all over again. He would never say those words to you in a million years, or even think of the same implications that Luis wanted with you. He shook his head at you once he felt he could speak calmly to you. 

“No te diré lo que él dijo.” He grit, trying to push the memory out of his head all together, “Créeme o no. It was awful enough. I’m not going to repeat it for you.”

As the room filled with silence again, Benito wondered if he should’ve left. He’d done his duty of being your protector for the night and making sure you hadn’t gotten sick, but now it crossed his mind that he had overstayed his welcome. 

You obviously didn’t want him there like you did while you were drunk, and although that stung just as much, he wasn’t going to push it. 

“Se estaba poniendo raro...” You spoke just above a whisper as if you were remembering things, pulling him out of his thoughts. “...Was it really that bad?” 

He peeled his eyes open to see you, but this time, your gaze had finally landed directly on him, a bit softer than before, but still with the slightest anger still apparent in your voice. He sat up some more with a groan. You took another tiny step towards him at the noise, but he didn’t think you were aware of that.  

“Yeah… Pero, sin ti, también iba a haber una pelea. Nosotros habíamos estado dirigiéndonos en esa dirección durante años. Him saying those things to you was just the last straw.” Benito let out a short humorless laugh, nodding his head, “Mientras tú estés bien, eso no importa.” 

“It matters to me. You’re hurt…” 

Benito could still feel the tension, thick in the air. Attempting to break it again, he smirked to you, waving you off gently, taking the frozen veggies off of his nose so you could see him clearer, “Ai, me siento genial solo de verte. I feel fine.” 

But you only winced at his face again, ignoring his attempt at teasing; you looked like everything was still very heavy on your mind.

The boricuan figured it was time for him to get out of your hairs, especially while you were so confused. He stood carefully, feeling his muscles screaming at him with every movement. He outstretched his hand, offering you back the frozen bag.

With one more step towards him, you took the bag the bag from him, only to place it directly on his nose for him once again.

“Keep it there, please,” your voice was softer, as were your words, “Tienes la nariz hinchada y un ojo morado.”

With your other hand, you tried to guide him back towards the couch, but you stumbled slightly, still off balanced from the alcohol. He caught you by the hip and let out the tiniest laugh. 

“Easy,” He murmured when you slumped against him the tiniest bit, “How are you feeling?” 

“Okay.” You started, though your unsettled eyes still suggested you weren’t fully there yet, “My head hurts. Tengo jaqueca.”

You weren’t pulling away from Benito’s touch on your body, but he wasn’t going to push his luck either. So, he compromised with himself, letting his hand rest on the top of your hips, keeping you at arm’s length.

Beneath the bag, he hid his smile away from you as you allowed yourself to lean into him. You were subconsciously putting your weight on him again, but he didn’t mind. 

As you’d wanted him to, he sat back down on the couch, carefully guiding you down with him. You let out a groan of protest, though you made no attempt to move either. Your knee bumped against his as he placed his hand cautiously on your thigh. 

A moment passed where the two of you locked eyes and the air was once again sucked out of the room. The man beside you wanted to lean in so badly. He wanted to kiss you again, despite you still being angry at him. 

“Um,” you staggered a little as you stared at him; your eyes had also fallen to his lips, “I want to talk more… Pero tal vez después de una ducha. Necesito tiempo para pensar.” 

“Then we’ll talk when you want.” 

You frowned, placing your hand on his jaw with feather light fingers. You gave him a weary look, “I don’t– No quiero que te vayas.” 

He smiled at you, leaning subconsciously into your touch, humming you in response, “¿Qué te parece si vamos por un café y un té?”

And finally, you smiled back only slightly, “Sure.” 

Unsteadily, you got off the couch and turned away to grab some things and head into the bathroom. Benito could hear the shower starting and he let out a sigh as he got up from the couch once again as well.

The first thing he did was steal a look at himself in your upright mirror by your bed. 

He’d seen worse. 

His lip was split toward the bottom edge and the bag of his left eye was swollen; the beginnings of an unnatural purple were beginning to form in the crevice. His nose was also a little bulbous, but it didn’t feel broken. The worst of it was the dried blood around the edges. Brown, oxidized blood also coated the front of his shirt. 

If anything, he just looked fucking nuts.

In your little kitchenette, he placed the veggies back in the back of the fridge before he splashed some water on his face, using napkins to hopefully wipe away anything that looked too gruesome. 

When the shower turned off, he sighed and gave up on scrubbing as he waited for you to emerge.

Out of the shower, you were clad in new clothes, your hair damp and your face looking fresh and clean. It made Benito’s breath hitch a little. This seemed like a moment he wasn’t technically supposed to see you in; you so relaxed and restored and so… you. 

For a moment he could only watch as your eyes also tracked him, darting your eyes between his. There were a lot of emotions he could see running through your features. Anger, pity, concern; one after another in quick succession, and he wondered if you knew how expressive you really were. 

Still, you settled on giving him the tiniest smile. 

“Need a new shirt?” 

Benito playfully rolled his eyes at you, “¿Tienes alguna camisa que me quede bien?”

You shrugged with a sly smile and walked over to your dresser, searching for a little until you pulled out what seemed to be an oversized, button up pajama top. Complete with cheetahs on it. And when you handed it over to him, that’s exactly what it was. 

He could see you trying to suppress a laugh from him as he took it in his hands. 

Again, he rolled his eyes, shamelessly plucking off his blood stained shirt in front of you, and that seemed to shut you up very quickly. He placed the shirt on and immediately rolled the long sleeves up to his elbows and only buttoned the last three buttons, leaving his tattoo cladded chest out. Tucking the rest of the shirt into his jeans, he adjusted until it looked decent enough. 

Under your breath, you whispered, “Se supone que no debes verte bien.” 

Snooping around for a second longer, Benito searched until he found some sunglasses sitting on the tiny table by the front door, slipping them on. You swallowed loudly. 

He knew he was being cocky when he smirked at you, “Dale, Mami.”

The two of you walked out into the crisp Puerto Rican air. It was a beautiful spring day, though it still always leaned on the warmer side. A lukewarm breeze was already sweeping across the both of you, whipping your hair around. 

The walk to the coffee shop wasn’t that long from your place either, and there was still a sort of a tense silence that covered the both of you more so than it had in the past. It had shifted only slightly into something less intense. 

Benito took the opportunity to try and make it better. 

“Lo siento mucho por lo de anoche,” He started, “I didn’t mean to ruin your night.” 

With the smallest shrug, you shook your head. You chewed on your bottom lip once again, giving him small glances.

“You didn’t ruin anything.” 

The man started to mirror you by messing with the split in his lip with his teeth, trying to hide the smile that was threatening to form. As you both made your way into the little cafe, Benito was sure to open the door for you. 

The coffee shop was less busy than normal as most people in the area were either already out of town for Spring Break, or they were crashing somewhere near the frat house after the party. There were a few stragglers, but it made for a very intimate atmosphere. 

Benito realized he’d never been here with you. You’d always gotten drinks for each other, but never together.

After the two of you ordered your drinks, the boricuan didn’t want to waste the beautiful day by sitting inside, so he gently led you back out of the cafe doors. For a long while, the two of you continued to walk in silence as Benito led you to the beach. 

He’d never liked the shores near the college - they were normally too overcrowded by tourists and drunk college kids like himself - there were a few quiets spots he’d never utilized before, so he figured that’s where he wanted to take you.

It took a little while, but eventually you both found a small pocket of quiet beach to sit in the sand and talk. Your gaze was far off into the ocean, but his was fixed on you and all of your features.

Admittedly, he was scared to talk to you, terrified even, but after a few deep breaths, he tried his best, “What are you thinking about right now?” 

“You,” the casual statement threw him off, “I’m starting to remember bits and pieces of the night, but not everything is there.” You started cautiously, your focus falling to the tea in your fingers, “It feels like the entire night was a dream.” 

Benito nodded, taking a sip of his coffee, “¿Qué recuerdas?”

“Well,” You sighed, “After Luis and I took the shot with you, I spent most of the night just talking to him and his friends. It was kinda overwhelming since they kinda just started to put drinks in my hand, but I-I don’t know… I normally would never drink that much, but I was upset.”  

Benito shook his head, “I get it. No tienes que explicármelo.” 

The corners of your lips lifted the tiniest bit, but you still didn’t meet his eyes as you continued, “I remember that most of the night Luis was trying to take me to his room, and after we kissed, I ended up going upstairs with him.” 

Benito furrowed his brows at you, feeling that spark of jealousy blast through his chest. But before he could let his emotions take over, he let you continue your story.

“It was all really fuzzy by then, y él seguía intentando quitarme la ropa…” Your voice went quiet, “But that’s not what I wanted. So I asked if he could go and get my purse from downstairs.” 

The boricuan racked his brain for a moment, “You didn’t have a purse.”

“Luis didn’t remember that,” you giggled, your smile widening even more at the triumphant memory, “It was distracting enough to sneak away though. Recuerdo haberme perdido arriba y haber intentado encontrarte.” 

“Me?”

“Well, yeah.” You said, suddenly becoming shy, “When we took a shot, you kinda showed me you weren’t drinking, and… regardless of anything between us, you were the only person there I really knew. I trust you.”

Benito's eyes widened, feeling a sense of pride overwhelming him, but once again, he was too stunned to say anything to you. He simply nodded, urging you to continue on.

“I think I searched every door. When I did find you on the balcony, I remember being angry…”

Once again, deep in thought, Benito trailed his eyes over you, “¿No recuerdas lo que dijiste en el balcón?”

A sudden look of horror appeared on your face and finally you turned to look directly at him, “What did I say to you on the balcony?” 

“¿Quieres la versión corta o la versión honesta?”

“Both.” 

Benito laughed lightly as you furrowed your brows as if to ask him what kind of question was that. He took another long sip of his coffee as he thought.  

“You told me that you thought I was set on destroying myself. Y que deseabas que yo hubiera conocido a tu abuela… You said that what we had was special.” 

You paused, “That’s the short version?” 

He just nodded. 

“What about the honest version?” 

He tried to look away at his hands, but his eyes snapped back up within seconds to gauge your reaction, “Me dijiste que pensabas que era sincero, honesto y amable… That you loved me the way I am. Me dijiste que llorabas todas las noches por mí.” 

You attempted to hide your face in your hands as he spoke, but it only proved to make him smile again at how flustered you looked. Before you said anything, Benito continued talking, 

“I told you it was honest.” He shrugged, “Si hay algo que definitivamente no merezco, son tus lágrimas…” 

When you pulled your face away from your hands, you had that same look of anger on your face from the night before, though now it was much more controlled. There was a part of him that wished you’d let it go and unleash on him like he deserved, but the other part of him was grateful you were so sweet to let him continue. 

“I hurt you,” Benito didn’t shy away from your hard look, “¿Te acuerdas de lo que te dije a cambio?”

He leaned toward you in the sand, placing an upturned hand on your knee. Easily, you could’ve swatted him away and he would’ve let you. But ever so slowly, you lifted a hand from your tea and placed it in his. The soft skin of your fingers pressed against his palm. He waited until you didn’t pull away before wrapping his fingers around yours, leaning forward and bowing his head to leave a kiss on the top of your knuckles.

“I said I would try.” He murmured against your skin, letting himself savor this soft moment with you, “Voy a hacer todo lo que esté en mi mano para arreglar las cosas.”

A few times, you flexed your fingers, squeezing your hand into his. You weren’t looking away, but you were still deep in thought.

“When we got home…” Finally, you whispered, “We didn’t…” 

“No,” Benito answered sternly, trying to ease whatever worry you had, “We only kissed once - un piquito. Nothing else happened. Te lo juro.” 

“We kissed?” 

“No debí permitir que pasara, lo sé.”

You huffed out the smallest laugh, squeezing his hand the tiniest bit. The sound was like music to his ears; a sign of you finally relaxing.

“No, it’s okay. At least you didn’t try to bite my lip off.” 

Benito laughed with you, nodding. He set his coffee to the side and with a grunt, scooted closer to you so your shoulder was flesh against his. Once again, the two of you sat in silence while he tried to memorize the way your skin felt against his again.

He took in a few deep breaths, and for once Benito actually felt okay. Not the best like they had been before he’d messed things up, but slower, like everything was more palatable for him to take in. 

“Now we’re even.” You said out of the blue. 

“Eh?” 

“I drove you home after a night out. It was only fair you take me home too.” 

You chanced a glance at him and the two of you were only inches away from each other now. Benito’s breath caught once again. 

He let out a breath of a laugh, nodding along with you, “Guess so.” 

Bumping his shoulder, you settled back into the sand with him.  

***

The two of you sat there in the sand for a long while talking in quiet murmurs about everything in between that you were missing from the night before. He told you about his new friend Lacy and how she’d helped you out, as well as admitting how jealous he felt with you and Luis. You hadn’t said anything to that, but just listened with a smile. 

Benito even talked a little about the fight and how it had eventually gotten to that place. Although he still didn’t repeat what was said, he did still give you the reasoning behind it, which you had suspected anyway. 

You and Benito had drifted closer together, talking until the two of you finished your drinks and were practically laying on top of each other. 

Eventually, as the sun started to dip past its mid-day rise, you both stood and started making your way back to your apartment. He’d taken a chance by keeping his hand in yours, and when you didn’t pull away, it was like his heart started going into overdrive.

“I’m sorry I reached out to Luis in the first place.” You said partway into the walk, “I thought I was helping.” 

“No necesitas disculparte por eso.” 

He squeezed your hand, simply reminding you he was there. He wasn’t mad.

“¿Qué significa esto para tu fraternidad?” 

Benito shook his head in response, “No sé. But… I’ll figure it out, even if it means finding a hotel for a time.” 

You nodded thoughtfully and then caught his gaze again. 

“What do you think this means for us?” 

The question sort of caught him off-guard. As the two of you approached your door, he thought for a long second.

“No quiero fallarte como todas las demás. I’ve messed up a lot, pero me siento diferente cuando estoy junto a ti. Every moment I’m with you makes me feel like I can be a better person. I know that I want you. But… ” Benito lifted your hand to his lips again, "I hurt you. Ahora solo puedo suplicarte que me perdones.” 

There was a moment you simply stared at him; your eyes darted between his, and although it made his heart race and yearn to just pull you into him to soothe every thought you ever had, he stayed as still as possible, waiting for you. 

And finally, you reached up on your tip-toes to place a gentle kiss on his cheek. 

“Okay.” 

The single word slipped through your lips just above a whisper and Benito’s eyes widened. He was stunned by your sentiment in a way. Tears began to form in his eyes, but he didn’t dare let them fall. Instead, he finally just took you for your word. 

Benito grasped a handful of your shirt and pulled you in for a kiss. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in tightly. He could feel you freeze for only a moment before realization set in for you and you began to melt into his grasp.

It really was just meant to be a sweeter, more sincere kiss, but as you two stumbled along inside the dorm, it was like you couldn’t get enough of each other. These past couple of months of pining and wishing felt like it was pouring out of the both of you the very instant the barrier was broken.

You brought him closer to you, cupping his face in your hands - careful of his bruises and swollen nose - before he delved his face into your neck, much like he did the first time you two kissed. His arms continued to roam around your waist as he peppered kisses along your skin, your hands traveling to weave into his curls.

He pulled back from your skin only to crash his lips back down to yours. This time, he could feel the fire behind his own movements, pulling you closer and closer to him. With as much grace as he could muster, he grabbed your thighs from below and barely gave you warning before he plucked you from the ground, moving you over to the bed. Benito ignored the pain in his muscles as he had more important things to care about.

You were smiling when he tossed you onto the mattress; glowing, even, and he couldn’t help but feel his heart racketing against his ribs. Carefully, he got onto the bed with you, placing his hands beside your head and hovering over you, taking a few moments just to soak you in.

Getting flustered from his gaze, you rolled your eyes and grabbed at the pajama shirt he wore, silently asking him to take it off. He smiled wide, shaking his head to tease you. 

Instead, he grabbed your hands in his, one of his hands kept both of yours pinned to the bed, while the other explored your body, over your waist and chest, moving along your curves and any part with exposed skin. 

It was the first time in a long time that his brain was allowing him to fully catch up and be attentive in what he was doing. He wasn’t just going through the motions anymore; he was fully aware of every noise and move you made, and he wanted to be.

Once both of your pants were removed, you moved until your legs wrapped around his hips; thin cloth rubbing against thin cloth, and it only served to drive him crazy. He felt more excited than he’d ever felt, but he still wanted to be more careful with you than anyone, or at least try to be. 

There was still a part of him that could feel the panic starting to pool in his lower abdomen. Pulling away only millimeters, he placed his hands along the side of your face.

“Me puedes decir que pare…” He whispered, slightly frenzied, though he still kissed along your neck and down to your collarbone.

“No quiero eso,” you murmured instead, “I want you.”

Benito had heard the phrase from countless women, but hearing it from you was different. It was special. He captured your lips again and deepened the kiss ever so slowly, whispering against your lips between pauses.

“I want you too.” 

With strong hands, he spread your legs by grabbing your knee gently, letting himself settle between you. His grip tightened as he began to move himself ever so slightly against you. You let out a string of pleasurable sounds, causing him all the more excitement as you allowed him to feel and kiss you. Your breathing was becoming shallow, and you were letting out sounds; beautiful gasps and moans, and every time he grabbed your waist, you’d let out several more. 

His rough hands traveled from your knee to your thighs. By your inner thigh, he could feel his hands were shaking even more as he silently started to remove the rest of your clothes, but he couldn’t help but notice your hands were trembling just as hard. He shed the thin layers of your panties, locking eyes with yours as he put his fingers inside of you. 

You gasped, but quickly closed your eyes in pleasure, letting him take you over. 

“Dime si te he hecho daño, por favor,” he whispered your name, quiet but deliberately. 

“No me harás daño, Beni..” 

You whimpered as you wrapped your arms around his neck and slowly ground your hips against him. He made sure he pressed into every spot that elicited a sound from you. It made his insides start to churn in a familiar way as he earned your sounds.

You released around his fingers and he sat back to admire you. For a moment, he paused, just staring at your beautiful face that mirrored his awe-struck look.

He bent down to kiss your breathless figure before beginning to rip off the rest of your clothes, as well as his own. He nipped at your collar bones on each side, letting his bare chest glide against yours as he enveloped you in his arms again, whispering how pretty and how gorgeous you were.  

Giving you a chaste kiss, he pressed himself closer to you, “Is this what you want?”

You nodded with a hum, but that wasn’t enough.

Benito felt his breath leave him, “Dime.” 

“Yes.” You whispered, “I want you.” 

A whimper slipped out of you as he grabbed your hips, finally sinking himself into you. He watched you in alert; his eyes blown wide as yours fluttered and started to roll back. And soon, his hips were moving along with yours in a perfect rhythm. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Benito was able to stutter out, his trembling fingers caressing across your thighs and curves, kneading and grasping tightly. Brown eyes traced your body as you also threw your head back in pleasure; his breath hitching and shaking as he could feel himself getting lost in you. A hand slid across his chest and up to the back of his neck, pulling him into another kiss that he reciprocated happily. 

It was like he couldn’t feel close enough to you, and kept trying to pull you by the thighs, wanting deeper; more of you. 

All of you.

This kind of sex was… different. It was a strange feeling he couldn’t describe, but he liked it. Every part of you felt correct, like you fit with him in some unexplainable way. In the past, he had normally never liked kissing or affection so much, but with you, that’s all he wanted to give you. 

Hearing you mewling his name was like being sent to another planet.

Benito only felt some pride in his experience; feeling confident and careful with where he placed his hands, knowing exactly which areas to touch as he focused on all of your pleasure. But his hands were still full of anxious excitement and he tried to be as cautious as possible. There was some solace to him that your hands were just as unsteady. You seemed to realize how careful he was being and grasped for his hands, whispering for him to go at whatever pace he wanted.

He let out a breathless sigh, shaking his head, “Eres mona.”

“Eres un preocupón.”

Benito rolled his eyes and murmured an unintelligible protest, even to himself, allowing his head to drop onto your shoulder. He placed one arm under you, lifting your waist and bringing you ever closer. Your hands scratched at his back and tangled in his sweat soaked hair, picking up his pace for you.

Feeling a knot building up in his abdomen, he started to moan your name much louder than before. And each time he laid into you, he felt the knot grow deeper, and deeper, making your legs tremble as he held them open. 

You released around him first, your head throwing back as you let out the smallest cry. Benito couldn’t help but smile wide at you, taking the opportunity to delve into your exposed neck again, nipping and biting along the nape, “Eso es, corazón. Estoy muy cerca.”

His movements got sloppier and erratic, so close to climax that the sounds escaping him were completely involuntary. And after pulling you into a lasting kiss, he was able to release himself, fully and unabashed. 

When all was done, he fell beside you. The two of you locked eyes as you tried to catch your breaths, giving each other shy and satisfied smiles. After a moment, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you against his body again.

Benito loved the feeling of you there as he calmed and slowed, letting his cheek rest against your chest to listen to your decelerating heartbeat.

Tangling your fingers in his hair, you whispered as you placed your own cheek against the top of his head, “You can stay here tonight if you want.” 

He sighed, nodding, and feeling like his entire being might just fall into you, “Mas que nada. Thank you.”

Finally, Benito felt so calm - so happy - that nothing else mattered in the world more than staying there with you. You wanted him there, and that was all he needed to stay.

Something new bloomed in his chest as he held you tighter. Instead of running away from it, he let it overtake him, swimming in this new warm and gentle feeling of finally having you all to himself.

There were still things to work through; things to talk through and apologize for and learn about each other. But Benito was almost certain he knew what this new feeling for you was.

He just didn’t want to jinx it.

pairing: bad bunny (benito) x fem!reader

summary: Benito finds a way to apologise to you after being a jerk

wc: 1.4k

tags: fem!reader, sub!benito if you squint, cunnilingus (reader receiving)

notes: got to write this based on this request! had a lot of fun writing it so thank you! <3