pairing. bad bunny (benito) x fem reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Finale | Epilogue

My Masterlist

wc. 6.6k

notes. thank you truly for the amount of support everyone has given me on this series. but thank you all so much for being so kind and encouraging!! this is like a nice end to my spring break too! i've got another series i'd like to start posting soon, but in the meantime, if you'd like to send in requests, i am open!

tags. bad bunny x fem!reader, slow burn, angst/comfort, zombie apocalypse AU, mentions of blo*d, implied character d*eath, use of g*ns, mentions of pregancy and birth, you do have a previous boyfriend for the sake of the story. please suspend your disbelief of zombies, google translated spanish, but I really did try to do my research.

After spending two summers and two winters in the motel, a lot had changed. 

The little community was thriving.

Staying in the little bubble meant constantly changing and evolving what it meant to survive. All of the people banded together to make living all the more easier, finding things like tools and medicine and clothes for everyone to make it by day after day.

Everyone lived for everyone there and you loved it. And slowly but surely, the outside world was beginning to rebuild itself as things started to open up. 

pairing. bad bunny (benito) x fem reader

Benito's POV during the events of Part 6 & 7. Based on this request and a comment from @oceantides-and-daffodils about Benito being the reader's nurse!

My Masterlist

wc. 3.3k

notes. I'm not done with this series until I say it's over! is was a really cool request and a lot of fun to challenge myself to write in a different perspective! Hope you like!!! don't come at me about the title, I know it's a little dumb lmaooo tags. bad bunny x fem!reader, slow burn, angst/comfort, zombie apocalypse AU, mentions of blo*d, implied character d*eath, use of g*ns, reader speaks little spanish, you do have a previous boyfriend for the sake of the story. please suspend your disbelief of zombies, google translated spanish, but I really did try to do my research. It's meant to be read like you can't always understand spanish.

Benito’s life flashed before his eyes. 

He had fully been prepared to be the one to take the bullet for you and his family. 

Benito knew this life with you was going to be fleeting anyway, so he knew that dying was on the table sooner than later. 

Although he didn’t want to leave you, or his family, it was something he prepared himself for. He’d even given little prayers to God your entire walk to New York. 

Upon seeing the motor-boat, he had an awful feeling as his chest only got worse as he tried to start the motor. With every pull of the cable, he kept praying, fearing that this was it with you. He whispered a prayer for each one of his family members, plus four more: one for Nate, one for your parents, and one for you, all to protect you when he was gone.

However, the moment of impact never came for him.

Instead, he felt your hand on his shoulder slip off, trying to grasp at the fabric of his shirt. And as he turned, he knew he was witnessing his worst nightmare come to life.

The love of his life crumpled immediately to the floor of the boat with a harsh thud and a large red stain started to spread across your clothes. Without realizing it, you were letting out horrible gurgling sounds.

His Mother, his Father, and his Brother were all moving around him in a blur, but his attention was focused on the woman that made his heart sing. Everything was going too fast for him; too quick for what he needed to do.

Benito needed to do something, was all he could think. But he couldn’t.

He was frozen.

From the moment he met you, he was captivated by you. Your voice, your beauty, your determination. He hadn’t cared that you were pointing your pistol at him; he could immediately see your heart and know that you wouldn’t hurt him. And when your hands touched, he was filled with a sweltering desire.

It pained him so much to leave that first time. He thought about turning back and trying to start something, to stay with you, to talk to you. But he also had a family to get to and that was the most important goal. But, to go off into the woods with only a memory of you on his mind - not even a picture of you - he’d felt ripped apart.

And then, by some sort of fate, you crossed his path again. He’d heard that same voice yelling for help and had run to you as fast as he could manage. He had no plan other than to get to you and save you. 

Destiny crossed his mind. Meant to be. Estaba destinado a se.

As the two of you walked, he was patient as your feelings for him blossomed, but his heart was already set on making you his in any way he could. He gave you little names, and touches, and gazes to show you that he was there waiting. It was all rolled out for you, but he wouldn’t dare push you.

Dancing with you felt like a dream; an excuse to hold and touch you with certainty. And when you finally reciprocated his feelings, Dios, he actually couldn’t believe how right it felt for him to have you. 

That morning after the two of you made love, he was so elated and yet angry at himself. He’d wished he hadn’t been so eager - to take his time with you somewhere else with less danger; to have somehow made it more special. Because you hadn’t deserved to feel anything other than love for days after you made him so happy. 

Benito was thinking so far ahead - he thought about marriage once things got better, or about having children - but he had to stop himself often and remember to live in the moment. He had never wanted to make those sorts of plans before, but with you, any plan felt possible.

When your eyes started to close, all of those plans were fading with you.

A fire lit from under him and he began doing everything he could think of to keep you awake. He knew he was talking to you, exhausting every word he could think of in English, but his ears were buzzing. He couldn’t even begin to focus on anything other than keeping you with him for as long as possible.

Tears were falling from the corners of your eyes, and he began to feel frustrated. He didn’t want you to give up yet, but you were talking like you would. He knew you loved your family; still loved Nate, but he was selfish.

¿No quieres estar conmigo tanto como yo quiero estar contigo? Benito thought to himself.

“Te quiero,” He whispered, “Do you know what that means?”

Benito knew you knew what it meant, although he hadn’t said it to you yet. And then, he wished he had said it sooner. It had been all he’d been thinking about, possibly since the day he met you. 

“Te quiero, cariño.” 

“I love you, Benito.” 

Your eyes closed, and he felt the warm wetness of your blood trickle onto his knee. And that’s when his entire being lit aflame. 

No. 

He prayed hard. He prayed often. He was getting his prayer.

Benito began to work amongst his family, helping his brother stop the bleeding. Once the bleeding was under control, he checked your pulse, finding it weak. As his Brother continued to hold pressure and began attempting to remove the bullet, Benito gave you compressions and mouth to mouth, regardless of how it threw the boat around.

At some point, his Mother had stopped and began to pray, though her types of prayers were much different from Benito’s. The words strung from her lips in a multitude of wishes. But hearing them only made the heat in his cheeks rise. She was asking, not demanding. 

Frustrated was way beyond what Benito felt. Now, he was angry.

Noises came from his own mouth as he worked on you that he didn’t realize he could make. He growled at you, shouted, but he wasn’t angry at you; he was angry at the deity taking you away from him, asking what he did to experience heaven and hell in the same lifetime.

For a few moments, your eyes opened again. Fury flooded out of him as a new wave of relief mixed in. It made him feel so dizzy, but so elated to see you awake and alive.

He heard from behind him that his Brother had gotten the object out of you, and he sighed in relief again.

As he watched you, the depth in your eyes that Benito had fallen so head over heels for was beginning to shallow. Your eyes weren’t focused, and they were lulling all around you. They tried to meet him, but couldn’t quite make it.

“Ey…” He spoke, just to you, “I’m right here, baby. Look at me.” You obeyed blindly, attempting to lift your eyelids, causing him to smirk the tiniest bit. “You’re so brave, my love.” 

As your eyes rolled shut again, a new building irritation was growing in him, making it harder for him to concentrate on English. There was so much he needed to say, now, but nothing was coming to him.

He needed to tell you in a way you understood how much you meant to him; how you changed his life. You taught him how patient he could be. You taught him that life was possible in a world where death was around every corner.

There was so much he wanted to do with you; take you to his home, make love to you again, play music with you again. 

“Please…” it was desperate as it slipped from his mouth, “Please don’t leave. I need you with me.”

***

The first few days in the Pittsburg house were quiet.

It had taken a little less than five days to get there from the edge of the New Jersey shore.

Those five days were agonizing for Benito. He and his family had to keep you moving, but they wanted so desperately to take care of you too. 

 From the house, it was a straight shot down to Marcelo’s motel according to your map, and that’s precisely where Benito thought all of you could thrive.

He just had to get you back.

You’d been in and out of consciousness for those several days at that point. Your body was constantly shivering, fighting off a nasty fever. 

Sometimes you would murmur the most worrisome things; words about missing and wanting to be with your loved ones. There were times it sounded to him like you were talking to someone else entirely.

It was breaking Benito’s heart.

Benito kicked himself often, thinking he could’ve done more to prevent any infection or hurt from happening at all. He wished so desperately that it had been him that was hurt. But then again, he couldn’t change the past, and he’d done all he could. 

He had obviously never been a surgeon, but by God, he had tried. He’d made the little sewing kit he’d found work as much as possible as he and his Mother stitched up your wound. On that couch, you had made so many noises he wished he’d never heard.

He hated it, but he practically force-fed you as much water as he could. Any time you had any sort of consciousness to you, he’d hold little bottles of water he could find. He would hold your jaw open with firm fingers, sitting you up and making you drink until you could push him away. At least then, he knew you had some energy.

Now it was just a waiting game for you to come back to him.

The sort of sweltering anger ate away at himself every time he looked at you, enough to make his breath uneven.

He hadn’t been getting much sleep, trying to let you get your rest. He wanted you to be as comfortable as possible, and most of the time, that wasn’t anywhere he could accidentally hurt you more. So, he paced when he couldn’t sleep beside you,

For the millionth time, he pressed his hand to your forehead, frowning when he realized your fever had just barely broken. As delicately as he could, he lifted the edge of your shirt to address the damage of the day. 

Distracting himself from feeling his anger, Benito began to sing aloud: 

Tu corazón me pertenece, y el mío a ti. No esperes que me quede si me dejas aquí.

His Mother poked her head in around the corner, having heard what her son sang. She frowned before he could even see her, clearing her throat at the door.

“No es verdad.”

Benito didn’t turn to look at his Mother, but let out a sigh, “No… pero, puede ser.”

“Benito.” His Mother said sternly, “Si no quieres que ella diga esas cosas, yo tampoco quiero que las digas.

Finally, he pulled his eyes away from your sleeping figure.

“Discúlpame, Mamá.”

Waggling her finger to him, he reluctantly moved away from your mattress, walking out into the little hallway. He pressed his back against the wall opposite of her, and she gave him a weary look.

“El vínculo que tienes con ella es fuerte. Cualquiera puede verlo. Pero me preocupa qué pasará si ella no sobr–” 

“Stop please.” The English came from his mouth before he could stop it. He sighed, trying again. “Para. Es muy difícil para mí pensar en eso, mami. Creo que Dios me castiga.”

“Benito…” 

“¿Recuerdas cuando te dije que nunca quise casarme?” she nodded, “Tiene que ser ella, o jamás ocurrirá.”

His Mother smiled, “Ella le ha cambiado a usted, hijo.” 

“Más que nada.”

Taking a moment to breathe, he sucked in a shaky breath, explaining to her just how much you meant to him. And it was true; he had never loved anyone as intensely as you. If you died, he wouldn’t know how to recuperate or heal. He didn’t know if he could, and he didn’t want to find out. He was refusing.

His Mother reminded him that it wasn’t just something he could say no to. It wasn’t in his hands whether you left this plane of existence or not, but in the same deity’s hands that let you live in the first place. Everyone from your past was waiting to greet you again and love you just as much as he wanted to.

Although it was a tough pill to swallow, hearing that from his Mother relinquished some of the anger he’d had. Because she was right. 

You both had been through so much in those past few weeks. It was easy to forget that you had already lost several of the people you loved before him; easy to forget that you had adjusted every part of yourself to make sure he got to his family when you had all of those haunted memories of your own.

 It felt incredibly selfish of him to continuously beg you to stay for him and him alone.

All he could keep doing was try for you. He couldn’t keep you from leaving him, but he could make sure you were as comfortable and as at peace as possible if you did.

You at least deserved that.

Tears were falling freely down his reddened cheeks as his Mother pulled him in for a tight hug, letting out some choked sobs as he held her to him tightly.

As he walked back into the room, he was shocked to see tears were falling from the corners of your eyes too. He rushed to you, placing your face in his hands to try and soothe you, only for him to get choked up again too.

He felt more able to pull you close and give you long overdue kisses as he carefully got on the bed with you for the first time. He loved the feeling of you curling into his side automatically as he grabbed you.

You tried to apologize to him, and that only broke his heart more. 

When you’d finally admitted to seeing your loved ones, Benito didn’t react like the way he thought he would. In a way, he had suspected they were making visits to try and take you, and he thanked them in his mind for being as gentle as possible with you. 

But he didn’t want to show his selfishness just yet. He wanted to break the tension with you when it got too much for you to handle; deflect until you laughed, and for a moment, it worked.

Although he wouldn’t always understand everything you lost, he would understand losing you.

You fell asleep in Benito’s arms that night; your fever had finally broken and you weren’t as uncomfortable by his touch. He relished in the feeling of you sleeping beside him again, feeling his own eyes getting heavy after several nights of no rest.

“Lo lamento,” He whispered, raking his fingers as light as a feather over your skin, “Sometimes… I wish we had met earlier. Just so I’d have a little more time with you.

“No pasa nada, cariño, si quieres estar con tus seres queridos.” Benito whispered in the crevice of your neck and shoulder, “It was my turn to love you. And if my turn is up, then… Sería tan difícil seguir adelante. But I would do it for you, just like you continued for Nate, yeah? But… 

“If you leave me, my wish would be to do it all over again, no matter how short. Todo. Para ti. Solo para conocerte de nuevo por primera vez... Just to fall in love with you again.” 

As his eyes finally shut, he held you tighter.

***

It was honestly so hard for him to speak at times, because his prayers truly had been answered. Or maybe his Mother’s. But it didn’t matter. 

You were up and conscious and walking and talking and…

Benito went giddy just thinking about having you with him again.

He didn’t mean to hover - he really didn’t - but it was in his nature to make sure every need of yours could be met before you could struggle. It became as easy as breathing to check up on you and read your face to anticipate what you wanted.

Every morning, he would attempt to wake up before you purposefully so he could make sure your rise was slow and steady. Anything too fast would send your body into a shock and for pain to rupture through you, so he wanted to hold you to him tightly so you wouldn’t move too quickly.

If you were the one to wake before him, he was quick to pull you back down onto the mattress, from wherever you were, to make sure you stretched and warmed up to the day ahead of you. 

When you wanted to do things by yourself, he didn’t stop you, but he tried to be around just in case you did want him. He would always let you use him as a support whether you asked for it or not. You expressed often that you feared you were hurting him, but he thought that was the silliest thing in the world.

Any time you did something on your own, he would smile wide; even something just as small as when you turned your torso or little stands.

He would sing you praises like, “Beautiful job, mami.” or “Cariño, me encanta tu fuerza.”

Once, while you were outside doing your therapy, he walked around the front yard gathering little flowers for you. As you got tired, he presented the small bouquet for you, beaming when your face flushed with gratitude.

Occasionally, and his favorite, you would reward him back with tiny kisses to his nose or between his eyes. It would make him blush every time, leaning into you to ask you for more, which of course you obliged.

Carrying you had become almost a daily occurrence in the house. He had gained a sixth sense for when you were tired and he relished in being able to read you like a book, especially when he grabbed you and you would fuse to him without a word.

Benito also made sure he was always the one to clean your wound if he could help it. However he touched you, it was subdued and calm, knowing just how to handle you. 

Sometimes washing and rinsing the wound was anything but, but he always let you hold him however tight you wanted. He knew that whatever you did wouldn’t put him in as much pain as you were going through.

If you let out a pained sound, he would wince like he was the one hurting.

“Si pudiera borrarlo todo, lo haría, mi amor,” He would murmur.

Other times, the selfishness got to him as he relished in being the one to touch you so close. In ways he couldn’t express, being so focused on you drove him mad. As he always was, he was as patient as possible before he let the intimate touches get to be too much for him. But he was still a man, and he wanted to make you feel good. 

He had been so scared to lose you before that he needed you, and when you didn’t push him away, he couldn’t help but adore the attention you dawned on him. With certain hands, he did make you feel good, and tried not to worry about him feeling pleasure too.

The more you healed, Benito began to dream once again of plans he’d once thought he would have to give up; plans of you and him and maybe somewhere tropical. You could have kids. Maybe one day, when the world was built back up again, you could have a big ceremony to celebrate your love… like a wedding.

Yes.

Benito’s life flashed before his eyes, and he liked what he saw.

pairing. bad bunny (benito) x fem reader

Finally, after taking some time to heal, you and Benito realize everything is going to be okay.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Finale

wc. 3.1k

notes. This is the finale of A Duras Penas! This story has been so much fun to write, and I hope everyone has been enjoying it! I definitely want to continue writing more and already have a couple of ideas that im starting on, but if there's something specific you would like to see, start sending in some requests! I could always use inspiration!

tags. bad bunny x fem!reader, slow burn, angst/comfort, zombie apocalypse AU, mentions of blo*d, implied character d*eath, use of g*ns, reader speaks little spanish, you do have a previous boyfriend for the sake of the story. please suspend your disbelief of zombies, google translated spanish, but I really did try to do my research. It's meant to be read like you can't always understand spanish.

Over the next couple of days, parts of you started to come back in pieces.

While it was still difficult to keep your energy, you were at least able to stay awake for a lot longer than you had been. You were constantly drowsy now, and that in itself was worse than the pain.

The pain in your side had dulled to a continuous throb and the infection was mostly gone, as you didn’t feel so sick anymore. Your hip still hurt tremendously, but it was becoming bearable the more you were able to stretch and move around.

Although reluctant, Benito did end up telling you what happened: when you’d taken the bullet, it had lodged just below your hip bone, and just right above your thigh. Part of your bone was broken, and you’d lost almost a liter and a half of blood before they could get the objects out with his brother’s knife.

It was no less than a miracle.

You had come to find that his family had carried you from the bottom of New Jersey to a little off-the-road town in Pennsylvania, constantly checking on you and stopping along the road to redress and wash your wounds for you.

Along the way, they stopped at every pharmacy they saw - big or small. In a policed town, or filled with things - they had meticulously looked through every single pill bottle they thought could save you, reading every label as closely as possible despite the language barrier.

Finally, they’d come to a little house just on the edge of Pittsburg big enough for all of you. Now, you had been in the same house for about a day and a half. Everyone, besides you, wanted to stop moving for a few days so you could heal. 

Benito made the want to leave all the more worse when he explained to you that they were taking you back to the motel once you were able - back to Marcelo and his family.

You were beaten 4 to 1, however. So, you conceded to letting yourself stop for a few days. You hadn’t come to terms with it, but your body was broken and bruised and needed to be as still as possible. You hadn’t allowed yourself to rest, even after the first time you left New York, and it was honestly what you needed more so than wanted.

As you healed for those few days in the house, Benito was hovering. 

It was hard for you to describe, but it was like he was over the moon to have you fully awake.

He didn’t tend to hover in a bad way; he would’ve given you space immediately had you said the word, but he preferred to be beside you as much as possible. 

He wanted to be the barrier between you and pain. 

Benito helped you start walking a bit in the room you’d hunkered down in. He was extremely patient; he was more like a dance instructor, rather than a nurse, treating each movement like a dance-step. When you would move your leg freely or have a moment where you were able to stand on your own, he would reward you with praises and kisses everywhere your skin showed.

He made everything tolerable.

Most of the time, you practiced walking with your arm around Benito’s neck while he wrapped his tightly around your waist for support. He was even more than happy to help carry you if you needed it. He never once complained about you being too slow or making his back hurt; he always helped with a smile and kiss.

As you stayed, you got to know a little bit more about his family.

His Brother was silly like Benito, and his humor helped cut through a lot of the tension the pain and the language barrier brought. He liked to tease you a lot, especially about saving you from certain death, which you played into much to Benito’s annoyance.

He gave you a hard time, but he was just as attentive. If you tripped or stumbled, he was quick to rush and help. Once, after a particularly bad fall in the living room, his Brother helped you up to your feet. With a fond smile, he lovingly called you “El agujero de bala de Beno” which, rightfully so, earned him a slap on the back of the head. 

Benito’s Father was more on the stoic side. He showed he cared in smaller ways, like leaving little extra portions of food for you, or making sure you were drinking enough water. He was quiet in that he truly didn’t speak much unless he needed to. 

His Father was also the most tolerable of the language barrier. Even more so than his son, he liked to pipe up and correct you on your Spanish grammar, or the words you were trying to say. Even though he didn’t have the grasp his son did with English, he was able to read when you were trying hard enough and help from there.

And finally, his Mother was kind and empathetic, always there if you needed someone comforting. She was around you most of the time if Benito wasn’t able to be, making you feel as safe and as comfortable as she could without getting in the way. 

In the mornings, she would greet you with a tight hug and spoke to you like you were her own daughter. She treated you like she’d known and already cared for you for years, and it made your heart sing and swell the more she talked future tense with you. You realized pretty quickly that Benito took most after her.

Whether it was his Mother helping you dress the wound, or his Father explaining the pills, or his Brother playfully pushing, Benito was always there.

Sometimes, he was more aware of how you were reacting before you even did.

One of the days, you were giving yourself a bit of physical therapy by practicing lifting your right leg on the little porch step outside. You were starting to get very sluggish and tired, and it was starting to hurt a lot, but you were very close to being able to lift your foot all the way onto the step. 

Benito, stopping your movements, placed his hand on your lower back, tapping the top of your left thigh twice.

He stepped in front of you, lifting his chin to the house, “Vamos.”

You shook your head, albeit tiredly, refusing, “I want to keep trying.”

“Tu cuerpo se va a rendir si no lo haces.” He whispered, taking another step to get in your space, “Come on, mi amor, time to rest.”

“I’m okay,” You answered back immediately.

“Stubborn.”

From behind, Benito wrapped his arms around your waist. Using the fact you were wobbly and off-balanced, he used his foot to trip you backwards. He bent to capture your legs from underneath you as well, cradling you against his chest. He had a wide, victorious grin on his face and you rolled your eyes.

The pain in your side throbbed for a moment as it took you a second to recuperate and figure out what happened. He quickly flashed you a charming smile, 

“Sorry.” 

You slapped his shoulder weakly, but melted into his hold on you.

“No hagas eso.” You tried to sound stern, though the tone of your voice came out as anything but.

Benito chuckled, “Hablas español cada vez mejor.” 

With you securely in his arms, he carried you back into the house to get more rest. As he laid you down on the bed, he pressed himself into your side. 

He propped his head up to get a better look at you. You both watched and studied each other in a comfortable silence for a long while.

As you always did, you let your mind wander, but this time your thoughts were focused solely on the man laid beside you. He stared at you with so much admiration and love. You truly couldn’t believe how handsome he was, and how perfect, and just how lucky you were.

He was right: falling for him was the easiest thing in the world.

With tired fingers, you reached for the back of his head, tangling your fingers in his mess of curls to pull him forward to you. He breathed a sigh as your lips met his in a slow, desperate kiss. 

As cautious as he could, his movements followed yours as he rolled on top of you, wiggling his way between your legs. Though the movement caused some discomfort, the feeling of him on top of you was more enticing, distracting you from the hurt. He trailed his hands along your sides, making the greatest effort to make you feel good while he touched.

The more layers he helped remove, the more you felt the love in your own touches. You wanted him more than anything, and he made sure to let you know he wanted you too. 

***

After a few more days in the Pittsburg house, all of you set back off towards the motel Marcelo and his family were staying at.

The first day was the most difficult; getting into the rhythm of walking a long distance again was nothing less than agonising. 

Benito’s family was patient with you - sometimes even more patient than you were with yourself - when you had to take breaks, they were more than happy to help.  

To your surprise, traveling with a larger group of people was actually much easier when it came down to it. Yes, there was a higher possibility of something going wrong with more people, but then again, there were more greater probabilities too. 

Running into things was like a walk in the park with four (and a half) people. Although you weren’t able to do much, everyone looked out for each other. His Brother carried the gun while his parents made distractions, and the two of you would quietly keep watch, warning of anything and everything around. 

You would stay in houses as much as you could, mainly for your comfort, but tried to be careful about where you picked. There was only one or two days where you stayed outside or in a make-shift shelter of some sort. 

However, after another several days of walking - and mainly limping - you finally came upon the motel and the barricade that had only grown in size since you last saw it. The sun on the horizon had begun to set, and you could smell the fire, and the food, coming from the other side.

The two people guarding the outside stood when they saw all five of you, giving out loud congratulatory calls. 

A sigh of relief you hadn’t known you were holding in escaped you.

The sounds from the guards got the attention of everyone else on the inside of the barricade, and one by one, heads started to poke over the walls and through the little openings. One head in particular made the loudest wailing. 

You couldn’t help but laugh as Marcelo’s raspy voice echoed through the parking lot, rounding the corner in a sprint. 

“¡No jodas!” He exclaimed, “You made it!” 

As he rounded the corner, he was coming right for you both. Benito moved awake from you just as Marcelo smacked right into him. He hugged Benito first, nearly tumbling to the ground, and then he turned to you. Before you could tell him, he was wrapping you in a tight hug.

 “Ten cuidado, ‘mano…” Benito tried to warn with a groan.

You let out a short sound of discomfort, despite all of your smiles, and once Marcelo realized, he was backing away immediately.

“What the hell happened?” He asked, looking over you incredulously. 

You lifted your shirt just barely to show the gauze wrapped tightly around your abdomen. Marcelo’s eyes widened more.

“Holy shit.” 

“We had a small run-in with some police,” You shrugged nonchalantly, letting out a laugh, “But what’s a little excitement?” 

His eyes were practically bugging out of his head as he stared at you, slowly pulling you into a softer hug by your shoulders, shocked.

“You are literally the luckiest people in this world. Holy shit.” 

As he pulled away, he brought in the other members for congratulatory hugs as well just as Isa came outside the barricade. After giving you all hugs, she quickly invited all of you inside to rest and to have dinner. 

Behind the barricade, just as you could smell, everyone was enjoying a dinner together. More and more people got up to give you all praises and welcomes, allowing you all to sit down and hand you plates of their food. 

One of the last people to come up to you was Mari. Just as shocked as she was to see you, you were just as shocked to see she wasn’t pregnant anymore. She was holding a tiny bundle of blankets in her hands, smiling wide and practically radiating happiness as she gave you a small hug, showing off the baby boy in her arms. 

The baby was very fresh, barely able to open his eyes. He had the little bits of dried skin all babies seemed to have all over his face, but his skin and hair were soft as you stroked the top of his head with two fingers. 

Even in this new world that didn’t feel like it was meant for life, a new life stared back at you with curious glances. You smiled; it was a soft reminder that anything was possible. 

A small, fond smile was already on Benito’s face when you turned to him. He watched you, studying you closely as you interacted with the baby. 

He grabbed your hand as Mari walked off to show off the baby to the other members of your group. Giving it a tight squeeze, he winked at you, and something inside of you fluttered. There was a sort of tenderness to his gaze you hadn’t seen before, and another part of your future flashed before you.

A baby with warm brown eyes and a mess of curls.

Before you could think much of it, however, a beat started up behind you, followed by my rhythmic guitar. Benito’s eyes closed and his head lulled back with a wide toothy grin. 

He’s not even done with his plate of food before he’s pulling you up to dance with him.

Despite the exhaustion and the pain in your leg, you were happy to get pulled close. His hands wrapped around your waist and hand as the first time you danced together. He smushed your torsos together, content to sway with you, careful that you didn’t actually move much.

The sounds of everyone around you having a good time and laughing and socialising brought a small tear to your eye. Benito was quick to reach up and place his palm to your cheek, speaking just above a whisper.

“¿Todo bien?” 

You nod, “I’m happy.” 

Benito gave you a smile back and pressed his face into your neck, leaving wet kisses along your skin. You could only smile and let your heart swell as his vibrations echoed throughout your body. 

When it’s almost early morning, you two are brought up to the room you’d stayed in the last time. His family were brought into the rooms adjacent to yours and you couldn’t help but feel a calm sense as the door behind you shut, leaving you in a comfortable silence.

Benito placed your things beside the door half-hazardly. With only a couple of wide steps, he threw himself onto the bed, sprawling wide on the mattress. 

A little more carefully, you sat beside him on the bed, letting yourself fall onto the mattress with a sigh. A small laugh escaped you; breathless relief as your senses calmed, taking in everything around you. 

It’s then that you realize that it’s the first night the two of you could really be together in total peace. 

No where to walk or sleep or survive. 

Just together.

“It’s comfortable here.” His voice cut through the silence in a low rumble, “Podríamos quedarnos aquí un tiempo.” 

As always, he shocked you. 

You wondered if he truly could read your mind sometimes, but then again, it probably came from the way he studied every little bit of you. Even in this short amount of time you’d had with him, he knew you, in and out, and he made sure of that.

“We should.”

He turned over to you, and the two of you shared a long meaningful kiss. With utmost attention and care, he pulled you further onto the bed to straddle you, pinning you to the mattress below him. He had one arm on either side of your face, effectively locking you below him.  He had a sort of mischievous glint in his eyes as he watched you melt into his touch. 

“After this,” His fingers grazed your neck, “¿Adónde quieres ir?”

“You want to go somewhere?” Rolling your eyes despite your smirk, you brought your hands up to his chest, grasping a handful of his shirt, “You just said this place is comfortable.” 

“It is, but…” He captured your lips to his in a slow kiss, humming slightly as your hand traveled to the back of his neck, “I want to take you to Puerto Rico.

With his free hand, he traced his finger in patterns along your arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps as he continued to speak against your lips, “To the beach. Uno privado en Maya. Baby, you would love it. The water is clear and the beach is quiet. También se pueden ver las montañas. I want to kiss you under the palms… relax with you on the shore… Te haré el amor en el agua...”

“How would we get there?” 

“¿Importaría?” Benito pressed kiss after kiss, pecking you softly in between words, “We could make that happen. Hemos llegado hasta aquí. We made it this far, a duras penas.” 

“We could. But, tonight, maybe we should just sleep on it,” You smiled, wrapping your arms around his waist to pull him into you, “I’d follow you anywhere; wherever you go, ahora eres mi refugio. You’re my home now.” 

He chuckled, kissing the corner of your lips, “Pero somos las personas más afortunadas del mundo, ¿recuerdas?” 

You pull away to look in his chocolate eyes, “And I hope our luck never runs out.”

Benito’s eyes darted between yours with a love that exceeded words, but he tried anyway:

“I love you, Cariño.”

“Te quiero, Benito.”

pairing. bad bunny (benito) x fem reader

After a brush with death, you have a hard time keeping up with reality, let alone consciousness.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

wc. 4.7k

notes. This is the second to last part of this series! Let me know if you'd like to see more! As always, let me know what you think; give me your feedback and suggestions and comments! tags. bad bunny x fem!reader, slow burn, angst/comfort, zombie apocalypse AU, mentions of blo*d, implied character d*eath, use of g*ns, reader speaks little spanish, you do have a previous boyfriend for the sake of the story. please suspend your disbelief of zombies, google translated spanish, but I really did try to do my research. It's meant to be read like you can't always understand spanish.

Consciousness was extremely tricky.

And, well, consciousness was putting it lightly.

It was hard for you to understand anything of what was going on, and you weren’t exactly sure whether you were dreaming at first. 

The first time you came to was only for a little while. 

Voices flooded in and out in quiet murmurs, like you were under water, and you couldn’t grasp what voice belonged to who. Sometimes the voices were muffled, while other times the voices were as clear as a bell. 

Some words were in Spanish, and some in English. 

No matter who it was, you tried to answer; to tell them you were trying to get to them, but nothing ever came out. The feelings on the edges of your brain were heavy, keeping you from having any control over yourself.

The lack of control you had made you feel uneasy. But the pain was worse.

Throughout your entire body was a dull ache, like it was slowly lighting ablaze. The feeling was like a low static shock throughout. But just below your hip was where most of it radiated from. The feeling was blinding, like the entire lower half of your body was trying to be torn open. 

You wanted to yell and scream that your entire being was on fire, but your body let out a low whine at the best. Everything in you was protesting for you to lose consciousness again, to get rid of the pain as fast as possible, and the feeling of not being able to do anything was getting to be frustrating.

Another sharp pain hit your hip, and you let out a cry. You wanted to thrash around, kicking and screaming like a child. However, your legs were pinned to the floor, and you felt warm hands against the sides of your neck, supporting you from moving too much.

“Vamos,” A familiar sounding growl came from above you, “vamos, mi amor, casi lo logras. Come back to me.” 

Your body jerked; an involuntary contraction that shot through your whole body as another jolt of pain came through you.

Without you trying, your eyes shot open to see Benito just above your head.

You were able to process what was happening for a moment or two; entirely too aware even. 

Benito’s warm eyes watched you as closely as possible and the tiniest smile appeared on his face. The normal brown of his eyes were clouded with dark, frenzied pupils. The skin around his eyes was extremely puffy, indicating he’d been upset for a while.

You still couldn’t speak, but your eyes flooded with tears immediately upon seeing him. 

He was quick to soothe you, reaching his thumbs up to catch any stray tears from your cheeks. Though he was smiling and trying to act brave for you, his eyes betrayed him as two large droplets of tears fell just past your face.

“Yes…” He sighed in a huge relief, “Ahí están, mis ojos bellos.” 

Your eyes darted past him to see that you and all of his family were still on the motor boat. Based on the skyline, you were near lower Manhattan.

His mother was the closest to him, watching over his shoulder, and clutching what looked like a rosary. Her fingers rubbed at the tiny cross while her other hand rested on Benito’s head, lightly caressing his curls and murmuring prayers.

At your feet, when his brother and father saw your eyes open, they also let out a short sound of relief. His father patted your knee lightly, as if he knew exactly what you were feeling, and spoke directly to you.

“Perdón, hija.”

His brother sighed, “Saqué la bala.”

You couldn’t translate - your head wasn’t working fast enough - but you wanted to know what they all said. You looked back up, hoping to catch Benito’s eyes, quietly asking him to translate for you.

However, before you could even register, a warm, fuzzy sensation started to fill you again. This time, it was more a sense of calm as the pain subsided significantly in your hip. 

As quickly as you’d come back, your head was shutting down again just as fast. You were losing control of all of your senses, and you desperately tried to fight for them back.

Benito was speaking to you, explaining exactly what you’d wanted maybe, but you didn’t get to hear anything. The blinding white pain was now back to a duller grey, and your body wasn’t letting you surpass the opportunity to relax and sleep again. You shut your eyes, unable to keep them open any longer.

Though your ears felt like they were back under water, you could still feel for a minute or two; warm hands giving light taps to your cheeks to try and wake you again. You could only make out your name, low and desperate.

You hated hearing your name like that.

Voices that weren’t Benito or his family started to slip in; their voices sometimes louder than the outside. 

Everyone was yelling at you, and you hated that you couldn’t make out what they were saying. And even worse, you couldn’t yell back a response. You tried to listen closer, but these voices weren’t saying anything but your name.

Without you wanting to, you drifted off.

***

It became hard to tell whether or not anything was a dream.

You caught some conversations here and there, and you were certain there were voices in your head that were speaking to you too. 

Memories, as well as different sorts of senses, flooded your mind when you’d “wake up” and it was only making things all the more difficult to comprehend. 

All of it was blurring together more and more.

Every time you lost your sense of control and fell into this unwakeable void, the more you were starting to see your parents and Nate, rather than just hear them. It’s not that you didn’t want to see them, but you were confused.

It was a very frightening feeling, having no concept of time or where you were at any given moment, or even if you were alive.

And it only made it worse that the next time you woke up, you were in a panic.

Your eyes snapped open from a loud pop of a gunshot.

Taking in your surroundings, you immediately noticed you were propped up against a wall in an unfamiliar building. Benito’s mother and father were sitting on either side of you, keeping you still as the others fought off some things.

The curly haired man was using the pistol on about half a dozen things. His brother brandished a knife as his own protection and held the next magazine for the pistol.They were careful not to get too close, keeping at a distance.

The things weren’t quick, but there were enough of them that they were starting to gain on Benito. You could feel your heartrate quicken as you watched him back away, unloading shot after shot until each one fell. Each pop made the noise all around you feel sharper; too much.

Though you were actively trying to stay awake, you began losing control in your head again. Your eyes trailed Benito, wishing to catch his attention, but he was busy making sure all of the things were completely dead.

You were in what looked like a shopping mall of some sort, or a tiny grocery store. There were isles around you, mostly sparse, but very clearly medical supplies. The entire place was dark, suggesting it was night outside.

You watched lamely as Benito took care of the situation, unable to do a thing.

Above you, his Mother started to shush you. You had started to cry, feeling frustration that you weren’t able to help anything. She placed her cool hand on your forehead and you realized then that you were burning up, practically sweating through your clothes.

Your eyes shut again, listening to the pops of gunfire.

***

When your eyes opened again, you were on a couch. 

You were surprised at how aware you were this time, though your eyelids still felt like they could close at any second. You looked around, seeing that you were in the living room of some random person’s house.

Your head fell to the side to see Benito trying to be quiet as he was undressing your wound from its bandage, his hands covered in blood. Your blood. 

Along the coffee table in front of the couch were supplies, like gauze and a water jug, reminiscent of when you patched up his shoulder. It also looked like there was a small sewing kit just off to the side with tons of little red-soaked tissue papers.

Feeling like you had a bit more control, you tried to sit up more, wanting to be of use in some way. But moving only made the pain in your side rip through you. You let out a large gasp of air, catching the attention of the figure just off to the side.

Benito rushed to wipe off his hands and put a gentle hand on your shoulder, pushing you back down. The agonising feeling in your hip made your head feel dizzy and you carefully fell back down onto the soft fabric behind you. Your head was still fighting you, and you were still fighting it.

“No te muevas,” He said to you sternly, rubbing his thumb against your shoulder as he held you down, “You’re hurt, you know.” 

“Aca andamos,” You managed through a whisper.

Surprised, he laughed a little, getting level with you to capture your eyes.

Although you wanted to speak to him more, you couldn’t find any more words in this haziness, especially now that you were getting lost in his rich brown. He placed his hand along your cheek, wanting to be a comfort to you.

You wanted his hand there, you really did, but the heat from his hands met your burning face, making you instinctively pull away. Luckily, he wasn’t hurt by that and pivoted his hand to feel your forehead with the back of his hand. His brows pulled together in thought as he turned to face the other way.

He called out into the house, “Todavía tiene mucha fiebre.”

As soon as he turned back to you, he looked down to your hip as if he were going to assess it again. 

You tried to follow his gaze down, seeing that almost the entire right side of your lower half was wrapped in the same gauze you used to wrap Benito’s wound in. A large, red stain soaked through the bandage as well as the clothes that covered it. If your eyes could’ve widened at the sight, you were sure they would have.

“Tienes una infección… er, your wound is infected. We’re getting medicine.” He lowered his voice, continuing to talk to you in a matter-of-fact manner.

He could see the panic forming in your eyes, and shushed you lightly.

“Baby, está bien. I’m going to clean it.” 

With the utmost respect, Benito lifted your shirt where it had fallen and his hands brushed the sides of your hips. You let out a hiss as his fingers brushed against the source of all of your torment.

Careful not to get blood on you, Benito’s caught your chin with his finger, lifting your gaze back up when he realized you were watching. Much like when you had danced together, he made you meet his eyes again.

“Ai, no, Mi Vida, eyes on me for now. Adoro ver tus bellos ojos me miran.”

Translating was even more difficult than before, as you could barely even register sound. The pain was getting to be too much again, and you were afraid to pass out. Benito noticed your face falling and gave you a small, sad smile. Despite the sweat, he bent forward to place a short kiss on your forehead.

As he removed the bandages, the air around your wound created a cool, soothing breeze. He hadn’t asked you not to, but it was obvious he hadn’t wanted you to see what was happening, so you tried not to watch. From the corner of your eyes, however, you could see him working diligently.

 She was quiet as she rounded the hallway, but you watched as his mother brought over what looked like more medical supplies. She set them down on the table beside the others, along with a few pill bottles.

She gave you a kind smile before leaving the room for the two of you.

He let out a sigh, talking more to himself, “Ojalá estuvieras dormida para esto.”

Using the jug of water on a clean towel, he began to flush the wound, and you found your voice again with a low cry. The sound came out as a mix between a groan and a pained laugh.

Benito’s eyes shot up, laced with pain himself as he watched you writhe. His hand shot up to hover beside your cheek - he wanted to hold you, but didn’t want to make you feel worse or get messy with your own blood. So, he simply tried to be easier.

You flinched a few more times as he continued, working around the stitches, but tried to focus on Benito himself, paying attention to his curls as they moved softly while he worked on you. Or the way his hands moved against you, knowing exactly where it would hurt and where it would soothe.

 Like he always did, he started to redirect.

“Are you tired?” 

Weakly, you nodded.

“I love seeing you’re awake.” He whispered, “But it's okay to sleep. Todavía estaré aquí por la mañana.”

You shook your head in protest. It was hard to explain it to him then, but sleeping at all was scary while you were like this as you never knew when you would wake up next, or where you would be.

Teasing still, Benito cooed, “Ah… Has sido terca desde el día que nos conocimos. You’re stubborn. Especially about sleep. You need to heal, cariño.”

You shut your eyes tightly on purpose as he dressed your wound with care. Although you fought sleep, the pain made it easy to have something to stay awake with. Every little brush of his fingers against some skin that was just a little too raw was pure agony.

“I think I’m dying.” 

The words came from you without your volition in a whisper, not even crossing your mind before you spoke. 

Benito’s hands stopped suddenly and you opened your eyes again to see him staring at the side of your body. His face was hard as stone.

While he was distracted, you were able to catch a glimpse of your uncovered hip then: a big, scary wound that had been sewn together. It was creating almost a glow with how hot and angry it was. The blood had stained parts of your skin, making it all look even worse. It was no wonder he hadn’t wanted you to see it like it was.

“No diga eso…” He said it firmly, irritated, like he had already argued about this before, “You’re not.”

He finished dressing your wound and lightly grabbed at your clothes, pulling them up and above your hips again, more carefully than before. His eyes avoided yours as he stood. With the water, he stepped away to wash his hands of your blood.

You couldn’t help but feel a massive pang of guilt as you watched him step away, leaving a wet print of red on the water jug as he held it.

You hadn’t wanted to be cared for like this. Not when the easier answers were right there: since you’d left New York, you’d felt the want to be with your parents and Nate again. Now, you were so close to them.

All you had to do was… die.

That seemed so simple. And yet, it seemed to be something you couldn’t do, at least not now. Of course, you didn’t want to leave Benito either. You loved him with everything you had. But there was another part of you that didn’t want the pain - any of it.

And Benito didn’t understand; he couldn’t, at least not in the way you wanted him to. 

As he came back into the room, he grabbed the pills off the coffee table. He gently explained to you that he and his family found them in a pharmacy and they were supposed to help inflammation, but would make you drowsy. 

As gently as he could, Benito adjusted you so you were comfortable on the couch, making you take the pills before sitting in front of you, leaning his head back against the cushion beside you. He still seemed upset about what you’d said, as he didn’t continue talking much once you took the meds.

 The pills were pretty fast-acting as a new, more comfortable warmth filled your being and your body began to shut down again. You knew you needed the rest, but like before, you were just scared. You were still unsure about sleep, but it was getting hard to beat it.

The two of you stayed quiet for a long while as you continued to fight the tiredness. At the very least, the medicine made the pain a little more tolerable. You fought until you could barely hold your head up anymore.

Benito would quietly shush you, adjust you until you felt more comfortable, and humming tunes that he hoped would put you to sleep faster.

And once again, the darkness stole you away.

***

Again, your body felt like it was buzzing. 

No, your body hurt. 

It was achy and upset, like every muscle had been ripped to shreds.

Yet at the same time, the pain in your side wasn’t as intense as before. You figured the pills were at least doing their job. 

Just as before, consciousness barely slipped. Your brain was incredibly hazy, making it hard to focus on anything. Your thoughts were somewhat clearer; you were able to assess all of the touches and sounds around you.

Attempting to listen hard again, you couldn’t make out much other than quiet steps on what sounded like a dirt road. The only other sound was right beside your ear - a quiet hum of a song in a sweet baritone voice.

Soft curls brushed against the side of your face as you bounced ever so slightly. Your head felt incredibly heavy as it lulled in front of you and your arms flopped uselessly over broad shoulders. Strong hands grasped at the back of your thighs, gripping firmly and wrapped securely around you so you wouldn’t fall off, but careful of your right side.

If it weren’t for the humming, you wouldn’t have been able to guess that you were riding piggy-back on Benito.

The feeling would’ve been funny had you been able to move or speak or do anything.

It was like you were fighting yourself to get any of the other senses back, especially for you to open your eyes. It was like no matter what you did, you were at your own body’s beck and call. 

The feeling was incredibly frustrating and tiresome, but you kept trying anyway.

Your eyes would flutter open, not even enough to see where you were, before getting heavy again. It felt like an early morning, where you couldn’t quite get adjusted to the light.

Instead of trying to waste your energy, you started listening closer to what Benito was humming. And you were glad you did.

You realized you were able to make out a melody you actually recognized. 

He was singing one of the main themes of K.87; the Scarlatti piece you played for him on piano. He was singing little bits and pieces from memory, not always quite right - with a few notes missing here and there - but very clearly trying to correct himself. You were impressed that he even remembered a little bit of it. 

Benito sang the parts he knew over and over again. Every once in a while, he’d sing some words with the melody like he was testing the waters to put lyrics to the song.

He used words like “llorando” and “triste”, which you thought were fitting enough for the song itself, but you hated to think that it’s what he was feeling. The last thing you wanted was for him to feel sad or like he needed to cry. Your memory flashed back to the boat, remembering how horrified he looked, and you never wanted that again.

Again, you tried to speak - to yell - to let him know that you were still there, listening. But your body didn’t respond the way you wanted to at all.

You were surprisingly aware for a long while, though it was impossible to tell how much time had passed. Maybe for a few minutes, or even an hour. It was just silence from everyone else except Benito’s quiet singing. 

You wished you could do anything but let your mind wander as he walked.

You kept imagining what it would have been like to introduce Benito to your parents. You thought that they would’ve loved how kind and charming he was. They would’ve swooned at how happy he made you, even through all of this intense survival.

Even further than that, you wondered what all this would’ve been like had Nate still been alive. Would you even have left New York? Would Benito have been able to have made it to his family? Would you two have ever crossed paths?

“Those are some crazy thoughts, you know.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows at the distinct northern accent. You opened your eyes only barely, seeing the blurry figure of a man you once knew all too well.

Nate walked beside you, unhurried with his hands in his pockets. You couldn’t see them very well, but you could feel his hazel eyes following you.

When you didn’t say anything, he continued, “But if you’re going to keep on with these crazy-ass thoughts, who do you think is hotter? Me or him?”

You let out a laugh you didn’t know that you could, or maybe you didn’t. As much as you could muster, you tried to answer him by shaking your head, silently telling him how ridiculous he sounded, much like you always had.

“You always liked men with tattoos.” He’d always know just how to push your buttons, “Remember when you wanted to get something matching and I chickened out?”  

Tears started to fill your eyes, and you nodded.

“We should’ve done that.” Nate’s hazel eyes met yours, even through the blur. “Even if it was a dumb design.”

I miss you, you tried to say aloud, but again, nothing came out. I want to be with you.

“Yeah, I miss you too.” He smirked, waving you off, “But you need him now, and he needs you.” 

Just barely, your limp hand twitched in front of you, wishing you could reach for him.

I can’t help but love him. I need you too. I miss you. So much.

One warm hand from your thigh came up to immediately grasp yours for only a moment, soothing the hard feeling in your chest. The melody from before quickly shifted into gentle words of encouragement.

“Ey, I’m here.” Benito’s lips brushed against your ear; his nose against your nose, speaking just above a whisper, “I’ve got you.”

“Of course you can’t help it, silly.” On the other side, Nate chuckled.

“Estoy aquí, esperándote.”

I love you

“I love you too. Te quiero.” 

***

When you felt like you were most yourself again, you were laying on a bed in another random house. You blinked a few times, adjusting to the reddish-gold of the sun shining through a window beside the bed. 

The fever you’d had was broken, and you were feeling back to a normal temperature. The pain in your side was still incredibly intense, but it didn’t feel as severe as before. Moving still felt like an impossible task, but your hands and arms were much more mobile than they had been.

You reached down, although still feeling weak and shaky, to press the side of your bandage. The wound itself didn’t feel as hot, and that was a good sign the infection was slowly going down.

Around the corner, you could hear people talking in hushed voices. From what you could hear, it sounded like Benito and his mother. Every once in a while, you heard your name, and so you decided to listen in harder. Translating was still more difficult for you, but you managed to make out that they were talking about you.

“Mamá, es como… Nunca he amado a nadie así. Si ella muere, no sé qué haré.” He murmured to her, “Y me rehúso a permitirlo.” 

“Hijo, Ambos habéis pasado por un gran a duras penas. Estás haciendo todo lo que puedes. Y estoy muy orgullosa de ti por encontrar un amor que te inspira a vivir.” His Mother answered back in a calm tone, “Pero si Dios le pide que regrese a casa con él, entonces él la guiará de regreso a casa… ”

A small sob erupted from the man you’d grown so dear to. It broke your heart to hear him so upset and broken. The same guilty feeling from before came flooding through you, and you could feel the sting in the back of your eyes. You hated being in this limbo; this want, to be in two places at once.

You’d stopped listening after that, knowing that it was just going to be too much if you continued. So, you closed your eyes again.

This time, you didn’t want to be awake anymore.

However warm, soft hands wiped at the tears that had fallen from your eyes. When you opened to see Benito holding your face again, larger tears fell.

Benito’s features softened, placing his hand to your cheek, “Baby, don’t cry.” 

“I’m so sorry. I’m trying,” Your chest heaved, “I’m just so tired.” 

“I know, mi querida, I know.”

A small sob escaped you and Benito was quick to fall onto the bed with you, pulling you into him while being as delicate as possible to face him properly. He wasn’t afraid to let his hands roam like he’d already memorized the parts of your body that wouldn’t be painful to you, and that thought only made the hurt in your heart worse.

“I keep hearing them…. And seeing them.” Feeling like you’d just revealed a horrible secret, you tried to avoid his eyes, looking up to the ceiling, “Tengo miedo.” 

You didn’t have to specify who as Benito nodded lightly in understanding.

“That bad, huh?” 

Feeling surprised by the question, you let out a strained laugh through your tears. 

“Yeah.” You said, feeling slightly more at ease. Your eyes fell back to him, “...Esto duele muchísimo.” 

“I bet.” Benito smirked, wanting to relieve you more, “You scared me so bad. I’m sorry I got angry yesterday. On the boat… Pensé que estaba presenciando mi peor pesadilla. I didn’t want to think of you dying. I’m scared too.” 

“Lo sien–” 

Benito interrupted you with a short, innocent kiss, “No tienes que disculparte por nada. Don’t be sorry. I’m not mad at you. I just want to be selfish and have you here always with me. Y soy muy egoísta.”

“I don’t want to–” 

“Si alguien a quien quisiera me estuviera esperando, yo también estaría confundido.” He rubbed his thumb against the side of your jaw, “I can’t imagine what you’re feeling. But I want to be here for you. Aunque no siempre lo entienda.”

“I do feel better,” You said quickly, also wanting to ease him of his worries, “Gracias a ti. I want to keep fighting, and that’s for you. I love you.”

“And I’ll fight for you too.” He brushed his nose against yours, “Perderte sería lo más difícil del mundo. But even if it’s a short time, I get to love you. No matter what, I would always love you, cariño.”

Leaning forward again, he pressed his lips to yours in a controlled kiss. You let your eyes close, trying to wrap your arms around his neck to pull him in closer. The pain in your side made it hard to reach, so you ended up just holding his jaw.

You kissed him back slowly and steadily, wanting to memorize the feeling of his lips.

When you two finally pulled away, he dropped his hands to lace them with yours. He made sure your eyes were locked with his before lightly pressing his forehead to yours.

Summary: Marivella Roy-Rivera grew up with Benito in Vega Baja, best friends turned high school sweethearts who thought they'd last forever. But she wanted degrees, stability, and a future she could plan; he wanted music, stages, and a life bigger than the island could hold. They moved on--or at least tried to. Now Marivella is back in Puerto Rico for a few months after finishing her PhD, engaged to a kind, steady man who can give her everything she once said she wanted. The problem? Benito's home too... and he's finally offering her the stability she always needed--but it might be too late.

Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter coming soon

Bad Bunny x girlfriend!reader.

summary. It’s just another day at one of Benito’s show, but this time a weird fan makes you uncomfortable and people know that Benito does not play when it comes to his girl.

warnings & tags. fem!reader. headcanons. a guy being weird. fluff. mentions of making out. overprotective beni. words in spanish. english isn’t my first language.

a/n. sooo it was my man’s birthday and that’s enough for me to come back!! masterlist

bf!benito who will always do whatever’s in his power to keep you happy and safe.

bf!benito who takes you with him to all his shows and saves special spots for you every time so you can enjoy the concert even more.

bf!benito who always has his eyes on you whenever you’re in “La Casita.”

bf!benito who knows the house sometimes ends up with more people than expected, so he’s always making sure no one gets too close or pushes you.

bf!benito who comes up to you every time he walks past, giving you flirty smiles or a wink that made your legs shake. And on different occasions he spent more time by your side, whether singing with his hand on your lower back —almost your ass—, or, as on other occasions, singing while you both danced with your bodies close together and smiles on both your faces.

bf!benito who completely stops when he notices some random guy trying to get close to you in a way he shouldn’t.

bf!benito who doesn’t hesitate for even a second to stop singing and walk toward you with long strides.

Benito was standing in front of you and the man nobody knew. The guy’s hands tried to reach your waist to pull your body against his, but Benito got there first. Without thinking, he dropped his drink, alcohol spilling all over the floor, and shoved the man away from you with force. “Cabron, ¿quien tu ere’?” (Asshole, who even are you?) he said, trying to move the mic away from his lips, but it was useless since his low words echoed through the speakers. “Aléjate de mi mujer” (Stay away from my woman)

bf!benito who pointed his head subtly toward the man, and just like that, his security had him gone in seconds.

bf!benito who didn’t care about the show at all and let them know he needed a few minutes. Without saying anything else, he walked into the house, guiding you with his hand on your lower back, always gentle.

bf!benito who would keep everyone outside so it was just the two of you. “¿’Tas bien, mami?” (You okay, mami?) he’d ask softly, pressing your foreheads together and moving his hands to your cheeks.

bf!benito who would listen to you trying to reassure him that you’re fine, but he’d have a hard time believing it. He hates feeling like he can’t keep his promises, and taking care of you is at the top of his list.

bf!benito who, after you told him multiple times that he needed to go back to his show (and argued because he wasn’t sure it was the best idea), finally agreed with a small pout and an eye roll, and after a little make out session well needed.

bf!benito who’s always worried about your safety, but this time even more. He tried to keep you close to his friends and people you both trusted, and every time he felt someone getting closer than they should, he’d shoot them a serious look, shaking his head slightly. Nobody gets closer than they need to.

bf!benito who says “Eso es lo que pasa cuando andan pasados. Eso no” (That’s what happens when people get outta pocket. That’s a no) pointing at the hallway where the man had been taken minutes earlier by security. He said it with both eyebrows raised, then gave you another wink before going back to the show once again.

pairing. bad bunny (benito) x fem reader

you and benito make it to New York

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

wc. 7k

notes. so,,, I'm gonna have to change the tags a bit for this one. I will say right off the bat that this isn't the last part, but it's coming up on the ending soon! If you want to see more like "headcannons" for this series, or even something else once this one's done, don't hesitate to shoot me a request or ask! tags. bad bunny x fem!reader, slow burn, angst/comfort, zombie apocalypse AU, mentions of blo*d, implied character d*eath, use of g*ns, reader speaks little spanish, you do have a previous boyfriend for the sake of the story. please suspend your disbelief of zombies, google translated spanish, but I really did try to do my research. It's meant to be read like you can't always understand spanish.

Seeing the skyline of Manhattan felt surreal. 

You never thought you would be back after everything.

After a few more days of walking, you were less than forty miles from your destination when you finally made it to the outskirts of New York.

The two of you were walking across the George Washington bridge from Newark. Just on the other side was the island of Manhattan. 

As Marcelo had said back at the motel, a lot of the north was starting to become overrun, especially as you got closer to the city itself. It was proving to be true, as the closer to Manhattan you got, the more police you saw.

If you could even say they were police.

pairing. bad bunny (benito) x fem reader

While staying with Marcelo's community, you get to let loose. However, your mind doesn't always let you relax, and it leads to some difficult conversations.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

wc. 6.3k

notes. You guys are soo so so so sweet and funny and supportive. Thanks again, and I hope you enjoy this part :) we're starting to get into it! Let me know what you think, as always or if you want to be tagged~ tags. bad bunny x fem!reader, slow burn, angst, zombie apocalypse AU, implied character d*eath, use of g*ns on zombies, reader speaks little spanish, you do have a previous boyfriend for the sake of the story. please suspend your disbelief of zombies, google translated spanish, but I really did try to do my research. It's meant to be read like you can't always understand spanish.

Some time in the afternoon, Marcelo stopped the three of you in front of a motel.

There was a sort of barricade, made up of old furniture and cars that were most likely abandoned. Barbed wire wrapped around the top loosely, but kept a clear message: anything to keep unwanted people or things out. 

Two people were sitting on lawn chairs just outside. Once they saw all of you, they stood at attention.

“Marcelo,” an older man spoke to him fondly and gave him a hug, “¿Quienes son estas personas?”

“Son parientes míos. Se quedarán un par de días y solo están de paso.” Marcelo said.

pairing. bad bunny (benito) x fem reader

You and Benito have some scary encounters as you continue your way upstate to his family. While trying to help, also you come across a new and exciting face.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

wc. 5.7k

notes. You guys are truly something - I really haven't been this happy to write in ages. so again, thank you, let me know what your thoughts are on this new part. I hope you like who I added into the story :) posting will still be willy-nilly, but I don’t plan to leave y’all hanging tags. bad bunny x fem!reader, slow burn, angst, zombie apocalypse AU, implied character d*eath, use of g*ns on zombies, reader speaks little spanish, you do have a previous boyfriend for the sake of the story. please suspend your disbelief of zombies, google translated spanish, but I really did try to do my research. It's meant to be read like you can't always understand spanish.

Over the next couple of days, conversation flowed a lot easier between the both of you.

You two quite literally talked for days about music and spent a long time discussing each other’s favorite genres to play or sing. Lots of questions were asked: what songs you grew up with, your top five favorite songs, or songs that reminded you of family. 

It was your own little language you two could speak for hours on end without getting bored or worrying about barriers. 

Sometimes, in those conversations, he’d teach you some Spanish. With his limited English vocabulary, most of the lessons came through music himself. It was how he learned, and so it made sense that’s how he taught. 

One abnormally sunny day, somewhere at the end of West Virginia, you and Benito had been walking for several hours and were starting to get exhausted from the heat. You weren’t sure if it was summer yet, but the weather was certainly getting warmer each day.

This main stretch of road didn’t have many trees along it as it was all just farms and prairies, making the sun beam down directly on you. Occasionally, you’d find a small bundle of trees and rest there for a few minutes, or even an hour, but the heat was definitely starting to take its toll.

According to the map, you’d gone just shy of ten miles. It wasn’t the most you’d traveled in a day, but you could feel it in your body that you were starting to give out. You also only had a limited amount of drinking water for the both of you, so it was best to preserve energy when possible.

It was another night Benito suggested resting without worry - to find a place that can house the both of you from the heat. So, you pushed yourselves a little further until you came across a few buildings that looked like they belonged to each other. The biggest building was a church, and the other a community center. Across the street was a small barn house, complete with white picket fences. 

Benito turned to you; his cheeks were bright pink and he huffed a little in exhaustion as he pointed to the church. He smirked, still trying to be funny.

“¿A Dios? He puffed. 

You couldn’t help but laugh and followed him into the church. 

Immediately, you both took a big sigh of relief. The shade of the building made it cool - almost like a big gust of wind when the door shut. 

There was a little bench by the door that Benito immediately threw his stuff onto. He turned to you and grabbed the strap of your backpack, silently asking you to take it off too. You gave him a weary look. 

“We should scout.” 

“We will.”

“We should–”

“Breathe first. Come on.” He pulled the strap again, “No puedes respirar con esta cosa tan pesada.”

Conceding, you pulled the bag off of your shoulders and handed it to him to throw onto the bench beside his. He was right - it was easier to breathe without the bag on - but you weren’t going to let him have the full satisfaction. It seemed he knew already though, as he gave you a wide smirk, almost too cocky. 

Benito grabbed the pistol, as you’d been letting him use it more often. He was better with it, by far, and wasn’t always thrown back by the recoil like you were. Turning it away from you both, he cocked it and made sure it was loaded.

He motioned his head toward the corridor, motioning for you to follow him. 

The church was a bit bigger than you expected; by most of the signs and messages on the wall, it looked to be a Lutheran church. 

The two of you started down the hallway, passing by doors and little windows that were decorated for what you could only assume to be Sunday school. You checked each room as you went, only to find them barren.

Along the walls everywhere were pictures of what looked like events and little celebrations that happened there at the church. There were some older pictures of families riding on little cattle from the farm outside, and newer photos of clubs doing their meetings. There were tons of pictures of groups of people meeting and laughing and living life.

All along the place, there were tables and donation signs, all organized by item. You saw clothing donation boxes, and boxes for canned and boxed foods, though it had all been ransacked. It looked like the church had tried to help the little community in whatever way, but now it was all stuck in time.

You could feel something akin to tears coming to the corners of your eyes. You didn’t exactly relate to the religion itself, but you felt the want to help; the need to try. 

Benito stopped in front of one room and gave you a smile, moving his head in the direction of it. You peeked over his shoulder to read the little engraving: Choir Room.

You smiled and motioned for him to open the door, to which he obliged.

The little room was nothing more than a regular room with a bunch of chairs and a piano at the front. Benito turned to you with a happy expression.

“You should play,” He whispered, “You know, cuando la costa está despejada.”

“Maybe,” You answered back just as quietly, nodding, “After.”

“We could stay here - play music tonight. Eso sería un placer.”

“It would be nice…” You sighed, shaking your head, “Come on. We should still check the other rooms.”

The two of you walked back out and down to the final room. You knew the sanctuary was the biggest room, with the largest area, but it was the last thing to check.

As you entered the sanctuary, you were surprised to see it mostly still intact. Inside was a quaint room with only about eight rows of pews and beautiful stained glass windows. A choir loft hung above as you walked in with a large organ smack in the middle. At the front, a large cross had fallen off its post, partially destroyed, but laid on its side. 

Benito sighed and walked toward the middle of the chapel. Slowly, he started to whisper a prayer, touching his hand to his forehead, chest, left shoulder, and then his right. 

He didn’t say anything to you, so you stood back, knowing this was a private moment for him. You noted to yourself to ask about it later; pick his brain and see where he still stood in all of this. 

You were watching him, patient for him to have his quiet moment, when the movement caught your eye. 

An arm slowly started to come from above. Right above Benito. 

The curly haired man was turned away, saying a silent prayer to himself, and blissfully unaware of what was above him. It was crawling out of the loft from above; nearly half of its body had already squeezed through the railing and was reaching toward him.

With only a split second to think, you ran forward to Benito, grabbing his hand that held the gun. 

You could feel the tension in his hand as he processed what was happening. With your momentum, you turned him, guiding his hand above your heads until he was pointing at the thing. You pressed down on his finger to pull the trigger, and luckily he didn’t hesitate.

The shot sounded with a loud pop, hitting it on its shoulder. Stunned, it fell forward from the rafter with a low groan, scarily close to the both of you. 

Benito was the one to spring into action this time before it even fully hit the ground. With one swift movement, he pushed you behind him, taking a large step to be in front of you. From the push, you were thrown to the ground onto your knees. He raised the gun once again and shot it twice more, making sure that it was completely dead before turning back to you. 

The normal chocolate brown eyes you’d gotten used to were now fully dark and frantic. He was studying you, but more than that, he was truly searching.

“Are you hurt?” It was the only question that came out in English.

He was speaking quickly, nearly at breakneck speed. No words, English or Spanish, weren’t making it to your ears though. It felt as if your brain was flooded with just as much panic and was turning to mush.

When you didn’t answer right away, he kneeled down to you. His hands abandoned the gun and started to glide over your arms - any and every inch of exposed skin he could see. You knew what he was searching for and part of you just let him; he was looking for any damages, cuts, or bites. However, his touch was making it much harder to concentrate on not panicking, and your body reacted in a way you weren't sure was appropriate. 

“Benito.” You spoke into the flood of noise.  

As he heard his name, he didn’t hesitate to grab your face between his hands. He was still speaking, but his voice had gone quieter. You could pick out basic words and phrases like “lo siento” and “atención”.

“Are you okay?” 

You’d barely registered you’d said anything; the words came out of you without any thought, low and vacant. But it was a genuine question you’d wanted to know the answer to.

For a moment, he looked stunned. He quieted his river of frantic words and stared at you with warm eyes. 

Slowly, he started to smile, which then turned into a soft relieved laugh. He moved his hands from your face to your wrists, wrapping around them. You didn’t realize how much you’d been trembling until his warm hands stilled you.

He let his forehead tip, falling onto your shoulder.

“Ai, Cariño,” He hummed, “You scared me. So bad.”

You let yourself laugh a little, but it came out shaky. 

“I’m sorry I grabbed you,” you started, “I-I wasn’t really thinking; I just thought that it was reaching for you, and there wasn’t much time–”

“No, no. Me salvaste.” He interrupted, “I’m okay. ‘Cause of you.”

He gave you a sincere smile before he turned to look at the lifeless thing a few feet away. He made a disgusted face before standing and offering his hands to you. 

As he helped you off the floor, your legs felt weak and you stumbled slightly. Benito held onto your hands tighter, helping you steady yourself. He noticed how unsteady you were breathing and grabbed your shoulders. 

“Ey,” He murmured, “You okay?”

You nodded, but you could still feel your heart beating against your ribcage, furious and unyielding. You wanted to explain, but all you could manage to do was grasp at your chest.

Benito understood without you having to say a word. He took in a deep breath, motioning for you to do the same. You sucked in a large breath of air and held it for a second before he led you in breathing it out slowly.

It took you a second to really register everything around you, but after you did this a couple of times, you felt like you could breathe on your own. Your heartbeat started to slow and your senses didn’t feel as flooded. 

When you were stable enough, Benito gave you a kind, yet triumphant, smile. 

For a moment, the air became still. There was a new sort of tension in the air, but neither of you dared to make any sort of movement; all too aware of the current heightened situation that had just occurred.

Instead, you were the one to study him.

He was surprisingly well kept for having been outside for weeks; he had nice facial hair and he didn’t let his curls get too out of control either. Here in the daylight, his eyes were more than chocolate, but the earth itself - warm and rich and deep. You could stare into his eyes for hours and still be searching.

Your gaze fell to his lips. They were plump and pink and formed the slightest pout when still. When his tongue darted out between them, you quickly diverted your attention to his cheeks.

It could’ve been from the heat that day, but his cheeks were flushed a deep rosey pink. However, you secretly hoped it was for the same reason you were starting to blush.

Your heart began to hammer again, but for a different reason, and it was like your mind was suddenly thrown into overdrive. You started asking yourself too many questions:

What if I’m only feeling this way because of the proximity? Am I projecting too much of Nate onto him? Would it be fair to either of us?

Benito seemed to have noticed the difference in your demeanor, as he squeezed your shoulder, reminding you that he was still there.

He turned his head to look at the thing, “Let’s go to a different place. Este lugar me hace sentir incómodo. I have the creeps.”

You simply nodded, still not able to trust yourself with words.

Before you could move, Benito squeezed your shoulder again. He placed a finger to your forehead, speaking slowly.

“Piensas demasiado. You think too much.” He whispered with a small smile, “Una de cal y otra de arena. Good and bad.” 

“I know.” 

Another uneasy laugh bubbled out of you, but this time it felt more like yourself. 

After he picked up the gun again, he placed his other hand on the small of your back, giving you a small push to walk. The touch gave you shivers, but you took the hint and started making your way back to the front. This time, he walked much closer beside you.

As the two of you passed the music room, he let out a sigh. It had seemed like a really nice idea at the time, but this was a stark reminder of the world you were living in that nice things weren’t going to last.

It crossed your mind to turn back and relax and play some music for a while, but with a place this big, you didn’t want to take anymore chances by being loud. Benito knew this too, and so the two of you grabbed your stuff and got out of the church.

Not wanting to walk too much further, you decided to check out the barn across the street instead as it was a more simple building. The two of you did a much more thorough sweep of the area, and especially above in the little barn loft.

Deeming it safe, you two boarded up the barn door with hay stacks and boxes. Once you felt confident that those things wouldn’t make their way in, you put your stuff down and finally sat on the floor to relax.

As you sat, you started taking out the supplies to make yourselves dinner. 

You still didn’t feel one hundred percent back to normal, but doing something with your hands helped. 

Benito, on the other hand, took up his time to make a bigger pile of hay in the middle of the floor; much bigger than for a fire. But, as soon as he spread the blanket over top, you understood he was making a place to sleep. Before you could even say anything, he was already laying down and settling in on the makeshift mattress.

You let out a laugh at him, “Comfy?” 

He let out a large sigh, only humming in response.

You made a tiny fire and threw two cans of canned potatoes on to cook. They weren’t the best, but they were starchy and weren’t the worst of the vegetables in cans.

 You felt good, even though you’d initially found the foods, he was typically the one to cook. So, it felt nice to do it for him for a change. Plus, any distraction was welcomed.

Once they were done and cooled, you gently called his name. He got up from the little hay mattress and lazily plopped down beside you as you handed him his portion of potatoes.

Without much hesitation, he took them with a sleepy smile, and bent forward to place a kiss on your cheek.

You looked at him in shock, but he just smirked, quickly stuffing his mouth with the potatoes. A deep blush crept across your cheeks and a small smile fell across your lips. You looked away from him, digging into your portion of food.

As you ate, you fell into the comfortable silence that had become normal for the both of you. The moment almost felt domestic, like you were just sharing a meal before bed.

Once done, Benito wasted no time before getting back onto his haystack. He let out a dramatic yawn before putting his arms behind his head.

Rolling your eyes fondly, you started to make your way around the barn to gather hay for yourself. But before you could even grab one stack, Benito was sitting up, giving you a confused look.

“What?” You asked, when you noticed him.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

You furrowed your brow at him, and pointed to the stack he laid on, “Making that. But for me.”

Clear disappointment crossed his face as he bit the inside of his lip, almost like he was stopping himself from pouting. He moved so there was more than enough space beside him on the blanket. He placed a hand on the empty space as he spoke.

“Me sentiré mucho más cómodo contigo aquí.” His voice was a murmur, “If you want, I would feel safer.”

He didn’t press - he only looked at you, expectantly - patting the blanket.

You sucked in a big breath.

And before you could overthink, you crawled onto the makeshift bedding beside him. He smiled at you, that same triumphant smirk as before.

You weren’t touching, nor did either of you make any attempt to get closer. You adjusted to get comfortable, and he did the same, leaving your shoulders hovering beside each other. You could feel his warmth radiating onto your skin, and you automatically felt more relaxed than you had all day.

There was a sort of electricity between you that you couldn’t quite describe, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. There was no need to act on it; it just lightly buzzed lightly between you.

“Are you religious?” 

Not wanting to stir anything, you kept your gaze on the ceiling above you. Your question came out a little too quick; too pointed for the air between you, but he answered anyway, low and steady.

“No mucho,” you felt the brush of his shoulder as he shrugged, “I pray sometimes for my family.” 

“What about for yourself?” 

He let out a chuckle, “Sometimes.” 

A moment passed of stilled air when he spoke again, “I prayed for you.”

You turned your head to him to see he was already facing you.

“For me?”

He nodded, “I asked that the ones you loved watch over you.”

“That’s really sweet of you.”

“Incluso si no rezara, igualmente pediría todo para asegurarme de que estés a salvo.”

You gave him a questioning look, silently asking him to translate, but he just smiled, knowing exactly what he was doing. He turned onto his back and spoke your name out into the quiet, wishing you a goodnight.

Before long, Benito’s light snores were filling the air. You smiled to yourself, truly envying the way he was able to turn his brain off and allow himself to rest.

However, that night, it didn’t take you much longer to fall asleep as well.

****

Sometime in the morning, just before the sun had fully risen, you’d fluttered your eyes open, only to realize the gap between you and Benito had been filled.

The two of you had migrated together; your arms flushed skin to skin. Your head was rolled to the side with your face pressed in close to his neck. Benito’s nose pressed back against your crown and you could feel him breathing evenly against your head.

You could feel your heart speeding up at the proximity, but you tried to remain as still as possible so as not to disturb him. Your mind, however, was running itself ragged with its thoughts.

This was technically exactly what you were afraid of: getting too close.

Even if you acted on any of these deep rooted feelings, it would all be fleeting. 

You and Benito couldn’t possibly make anything work. To you, it would be the biggest heartbreak if you lost someone again, and that was something you had to remind yourself of constantly.

So, you tried to ration with your brain - logistically, you’d only known him for a little less than a week. Neither of you knew anything about what each other was like before the sickness; let alone the culture of each other’s lives. For all you knew, you could’ve been starkly opposite - too opposite to attract.

You stopped yourself.

You knew you could ration with your head all you wanted, but he was no longer a stranger. He wasn’t just some guy you met off the street - you both were doing everything you could to help each other. He was someone that you needed, whether you wanted to accept that or not.

In a world like this when you could lose anyone so easily, you sometimes forgot that you couldn’t think too far ahead. Even if this was fleeting, maybe it was worth it.

Benito’s words from the day before echoed in your mind: Piensas Demasiado. You did think too much.

Allowing yourself to be in a fleeting moment, you closed your eyes and shifted yourself gently until your head was on his chest. He adjusted to your movements lightly, but remained asleep.

You listened to Benito’s heartbeat: strong and steady. And beating.

You stayed awake until the sun started to come through the cracks in the wood of the walls. Thoughts would try and push their way to the forefront of your mind, but you’d simply deflect them by focusing in on his heartbeat or snores.

It was hard to peel yourself away; you wanted to stay in that moment for the rest of eternity. 

However, you knew you had to keep moving.

You shook him awake gently, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours. He gave you a bit of a dopey smile, making you laugh, before he sat up and shook off the hay that had gotten stuck to him.

He leaned over, bumping your shoulder lightly with his.

“Okay?” 

You nodded, bumping back into him.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to get back into rhythm. The two of you packed your things and made your way out of the barn, back onto the road.

The proximity of your walk had become much closer too. You didn’t dare mention it and neither did he - maybe both too afraid the rose-colored glass would break - but your arms and knuckles would brush against each other lightly. 

You weren’t even half a mile away from the barn when Benito suddenly stopped walking, pulling you to a stop as well.

Neither of you had said anything since you’d left, too engrossed in your mind and in each other, so seeing him look so puzzled made you perk up.

His brows furrowed deeply in concentration.

“Do you hear that?” He asked, cutting through the silence. “¿Oyes eso?”

You listened for a moment, but couldn’t hear anything out of the ordinary. You shook your head, ready to speak when Benito held up a finger to his lips.

“Escucha atentamente,” his voice dropped to a whisper, “Someone is screaming.”

You frowned at him in confusion, but did as he said and tried to listen harder.

Sure enough, there were distant screams calling for help in random intervals. Sometimes it would call three in a row before cutting out completely. It was coming from what sounded like up the road. 

Before you could even begin to think about who they could be from, Benito had already started walking faster in the direction of the call. You took a few long strides to catch up to him, grabbing his arm, but that didn’t stop him.

“Benito.” You warned.

“We should help.”

“What?” you could feel your mind start to go into overdrive once again, “And go out of our way? What if it’s a trap? Hay gente loco…”

He wasn’t exactly listening to you, but he shook his head in protest. He was starting to pick up pace by jogging, “Ellos no saben que estamos aquí.”

You sighed, frustrated you weren’t sure what he said.

“Benito! Let’s think about this before running full speed into something that could be dangerous.” 

This time it was a call, but he was blatantly ignoring you now. You ran to catch up again and pulled on his arm, effectively stopping him this time.

“Hey, please,” you were begging, “Think.”

“No. Por favor, cariño. You think.” He grabbed your arm right back, “Necesitamos ayudarlos. We need to, or they’ll die. I ran to you too.”

 He let go of your arm, and you let him. He didn’t say anything else, but gave you an apologetic look before turning away, beginning to jog again toward the direction of the screams. Though still apprehensive, you didn’t want him to go alone, so you followed close behind. You were desperately trying to not let the panic bubbling in your chest get the best of you.

The screaming got closer and closer the further up you jogged, telling you you were going in the right direction. It made your heart keep jumping, thinking that maybe you were going into something disastrous, but the two of you kept on.

You got up to the highway when the yelling was the loudest, and it was no denying they were calling for help, just as Benito had said. 

Benito kept in front of you with the pistol held high. Defenseless, you stood close behind the burlier man and kept watch for anything suspicious around.

As the two of you rounded the entry ramp, you could immediately see a hoard of things and a guy. To say you were outnumbered was a bit of an understatement, as there were probably a dozen to this one guy. And now just the two of you. 

This stranger wasn’t running away, though, he was running and dodging around them, trying to pick up all kinds of items scattered on the ground. 

Before you could get any kind of good look at this new stranger, Benito didn’t hesitate before shooting. Several of them fell to the ground instantly. The guy’s attention went toward the two of you, as did the attention of the things, but you were quick to grab Benito’s arm.

As you were pulling the curly haired man toward a car to take cover, he reloaded the gun with more ammo. You still hadn’t gotten a good look at the stranger, but you could hear him running behind, gathering more items.

In the time he was distracted, the things had approached the car, ganging up around the both of you. Your hand was grasping his arm as your heart started to pound again. He didn’t waste anymore time before letting the shots ring out, and the things fell to the ground around you.

The air went quiet, until a loud raspy voice filled it.

“Oh my God, thank you so much, I dropped my shit all over the fucking place and ran out of bullets. I didn’t think anyone would hear me, but you two saved my–”

Benito stood from the car, making a loud sound of joy.

“Marcelo!”

“Holy shit! Benito!”

The curly haired man beside you was up faster than lightning, running to the stranger that apparently wasn’t a stranger to him. The two of them quite literally slammed into each other. Benito pulled him in for a hug with a large smile which the guy reciprocated.

You watched as the two started talking animatedly to each other. They were speaking fluently and quickly and happily. You were stunned that they seemed to know each other, having a lot of questions yourself, but didn’t want to interfere or interrupt them as they had their reunion. You stood off to the side a bit awkwardly as the two had their moment and simply observed.

This guy, Marcelo, was a bit shorter than Benito with longer and straighter chestnut hair and bright brown eyes. He was handsome in his own right, as he had a larger than life smile as he spoke.

It wasn’t that you intended to listen, but you were trying to get better at Spanish. 

From Benito’s short lessons on the road, you caught only a few words here and there, as they spoke really quickly. You noted that Marcelo had a different dialect, making things a little more difficult to grasp from him.

You could gather that they were asking each other tons of questions, and though you couldn’t quite understand what the questions were, you sort of got the gist that they were asking about where they came from and where they were going.

Then, they started talking about New York - that you understood too - and Benito held out his hand to you, silently asking for you to come to him. You took the hint and walked toward the two as Benito’s hand grazed the small of your back, gently pulling you to his side.

Marcello wagged his eyebrows at you, smiling as he pointed to Benito, “Y podrás tener algo de privacidad con él.”

The man beside you let out a low chuckle, “She speaks Spanish like I speak English.”

“Oh,” 

Marcello looked puzzled, glancing between the both of you a couple of times; the question in his mind glaringly obvious, but he kept it to himself. Instead, he shook his head and flashed a large smile your way. 

“Then you had no idea what we said, huh?” 

You laughed, shaking your head, “I caught a little, but not a lot.” 

“Well,” Marcelo reached for your hand which you gave to him. He held it as delicately as possible and bowed low. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit at that.

“A chanté, Mademoiselle,” Marcello continued, dipping down to plant a kiss on the back of your hand, “Allow me to catch you up. I am Marcello, this goon’s first cousin once removed - my mom’s his mom’s cousin.”

“Mira a ver.” 

The words escaped Benito’s mouth in a whisper, and you were quick to catch the subtle eye roll he did before Marcello started talking again, backing away to look at the both of you.

“He tells me about you two going to New York for his family. And that’s where we just came from too.”

“You also came from New York?” 

“Also? Nah, we escaped,” He clarified, “I was up there auditioning for some things when all of this got in the way. Once the police got more in the way, we got the fuck out of there. I’m surprised you didn’t get out of there too.”

“‘Mano…” Benito warned aloud.

Marcelo ran a hand through his hair, “Sorry. I don’t mean it that way. I just mean that things were getting really bad there, you know, with the police-state? It’s only getting worse up there. But, we did see his family before we left - they’d promised they weren’t going anywhere from the hotel they were at. And if the police have anything to do with it, they’re probably really stuck there.”

“Really?” You sighed, “It’s gotten that bad?” 

“Unfortunately.” Marcelo gave you a sad smile, “Apparently no one’s in, and no one’s out. Everyone is stuck where they are up north.”

Your mind wandered as you just nodded to him. 

Benito’s hand pressed against your back, trying to be comforting, “Well figure it out. Creo que deberíamos quedarnos con él. Just for a couple of days.”

Once again, Marcelo’s eyes darted between you both.

“Did you understand him just then?” Marcelo turned to you again with genuine wonder.

“Uh, y-yeah, I think so.” You shrugged, feeling bashful all of a sudden with both of their eyes on you, “Kinda. I use a lot of context clues.”

Marcelo gave a wide smile between the both of you before turning to his cousin, giving Benito a friendly pat on the shoulder.

“Okay then. If y’all want to come with me, we gotta start walking now before it’s dark.” He sighed and looked down at some of his items still scattered on the ground, “And y’all need to help me pick up my shit.”

Most of the items he’d dropped had been bottles and cans of formula and medicine. You had some questions about this, as Marcelo hadn’t said anything about babies.

Benito must’ve had the same thoughts in his mind, as he asked Marcelo aloud, “¿Para qué es esto?”

Marcelo gave a fond smile, speaking out loud for the both of you, “We have some families - old and young, and one expecting. So, the more we can get and band together, the better it is.”

“Why is it just you out here then?”

“I volunteered,” Marcelo shrugged, “What’s a little excitement now and again?”

After you’d gathered most of the items he’d dropped, he thanked you both profusely. When the three of you were ready, the shorter of the two men started directly down the highway.

The two men were catching up in front while you walked a pace or two behind. You didn’t mind, as you enjoyed listening to Benito speak so fluently and openly. Every once in a while, Benito would glance back at you just to make sure you were still there.

“I think you two might be the luckiest people in this world.” Marcelo said it out of the blue, glancing back at you, “Like, what are the fucking chances?”

Benito turned to look at you, and the two of you caught eyes. 

“Espero que mi suerte nunca se acabe.”

He gave you a genuine smile and you couldn’t help but do the same.

Summary: Marivella "Mars" Roy-Rivera grew up with Benito in Vega Baja, best friends turned high school sweethearts who thought they'd last forever. But she wanted degrees, stability, and a future she could plan; he wanted music, stages, and a life bigger than the island could hold. They moved on--or at least tried to. Now Mars is back in Puerto Rico for a few months after finishing her PhD, engaged to a kind, steady man who can give her everything she once said she wanted. The problem? Benito's home too... and he's finally offering her the stability she always needed--but it might be too late.

pairing. bad bunny (benito) x fem reader

You and Benito have some scary encounters as you continue your way upstate to his family. While trying to help, also you come across a new and exciting face.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

wc. 5.7k

notes. You guys are truly something - I really haven't been this happy to write in ages. so again, thank you, let me know what your thoughts are on this new part. I hope you like who I added into the story :) posting will still be willy-nilly, but I don’t plan to leave y’all hanging tags. bad bunny x fem!reader, slow burn, angst, zombie apocalypse AU, implied character d*eath, use of g*ns on zombies, reader speaks little spanish, you do have a previous boyfriend for the sake of the story. please suspend your disbelief of zombies, google translated spanish, but I really did try to do my research. It's meant to be read like you can't always understand spanish.

Over the next couple of days, conversation flowed a lot easier between the both of you.

You two quite literally talked for days about music and spent a long time discussing each other’s favorite genres to play or sing. Lots of questions were asked: what songs you grew up with, your top five favorite songs, or songs that reminded you of family. 

It was your own little language you two could speak for hours on end without getting bored or worrying about barriers. 

Sometimes, in those conversations, he’d teach you some Spanish. With his limited English vocabulary, most of the lessons came through music himself. It was how he learned, and so it made sense that’s how he taught. 

One abnormally sunny day, somewhere at the end of West Virginia, you and Benito had been walking for several hours and were starting to get exhausted from the heat. You weren’t sure if it was summer yet, but the weather was certainly getting warmer each day.

This main stretch of road didn’t have many trees along it as it was all just farms and prairies, making the sun beam down directly on you. Occasionally, you’d find a small bundle of trees and rest there for a few minutes, or even an hour, but the heat was definitely starting to take its toll.

According to the map, you’d gone just shy of ten miles. It wasn’t the most you’d traveled in a day, but you could feel it in your body that you were starting to give out. You also only had a limited amount of drinking water for the both of you, so it was best to preserve energy when possible.

It was another night Benito suggested resting without worry - to find a place that can house the both of you from the heat. So, you pushed yourselves a little further until you came across a few buildings that looked like they belonged to each other. The biggest building was a church, and the other a community center. Across the street was a small barn house, complete with white picket fences. 

Benito turned to you; his cheeks were bright pink and he huffed a little in exhaustion as he pointed to the church. He smirked, still trying to be funny.

“¿A Dios? He puffed. 

You couldn’t help but laugh and followed him into the church. 

Immediately, you both took a big sigh of relief. The shade of the building made it cool - almost like a big gust of wind when the door shut. 

There was a little bench by the door that Benito immediately threw his stuff onto. He turned to you and grabbed the strap of your backpack, silently asking you to take it off too. You gave him a weary look. 

“We should scout.” 

“We will.”

“We should–”

“Breathe first. Come on.” He pulled the strap again, “No puedes respirar con esta cosa tan pesada.”

Conceding, you pulled the bag off of your shoulders and handed it to him to throw onto the bench beside his. He was right - it was easier to breathe without the bag on - but you weren’t going to let him have the full satisfaction. It seemed he knew already though, as he gave you a wide smirk, almost too cocky. 

Benito grabbed the pistol, as you’d been letting him use it more often. He was better with it, by far, and wasn’t always thrown back by the recoil like you were. Turning it away from you both, he cocked it and made sure it was loaded.

He motioned his head toward the corridor, motioning for you to follow him. 

The church was a bit bigger than you expected; by most of the signs and messages on the wall, it looked to be a Lutheran church. 

The two of you started down the hallway, passing by doors and little windows that were decorated for what you could only assume to be Sunday school. You checked each room as you went, only to find them barren.

Along the walls everywhere were pictures of what looked like events and little celebrations that happened there at the church. There were some older pictures of families riding on little cattle from the farm outside, and newer photos of clubs doing their meetings. There were tons of pictures of groups of people meeting and laughing and living life.

All along the place, there were tables and donation signs, all organized by item. You saw clothing donation boxes, and boxes for canned and boxed foods, though it had all been ransacked. It looked like the church had tried to help the little community in whatever way, but now it was all stuck in time.

You could feel something akin to tears coming to the corners of your eyes. You didn’t exactly relate to the religion itself, but you felt the want to help; the need to try. 

Benito stopped in front of one room and gave you a smile, moving his head in the direction of it. You peeked over his shoulder to read the little engraving: Choir Room.

You smiled and motioned for him to open the door, to which he obliged.

The little room was nothing more than a regular room with a bunch of chairs and a piano at the front. Benito turned to you with a happy expression.

“You should play,” He whispered, “You know, cuando la costa está despejada.”

“Maybe,” You answered back just as quietly, nodding, “After.”

“We could stay here - play music tonight. Eso sería un placer.”

“It would be nice…” You sighed, shaking your head, “Come on. We should still check the other rooms.”

The two of you walked back out and down to the final room. You knew the sanctuary was the biggest room, with the largest area, but it was the last thing to check.

As you entered the sanctuary, you were surprised to see it mostly still intact. Inside was a quaint room with only about eight rows of pews and beautiful stained glass windows. A choir loft hung above as you walked in with a large organ smack in the middle. At the front, a large cross had fallen off its post, partially destroyed, but laid on its side. 

Benito sighed and walked toward the middle of the chapel. Slowly, he started to whisper a prayer, touching his hand to his forehead, chest, left shoulder, and then his right. 

He didn’t say anything to you, so you stood back, knowing this was a private moment for him. You noted to yourself to ask about it later; pick his brain and see where he still stood in all of this. 

You were watching him, patient for him to have his quiet moment, when the movement caught your eye. 

An arm slowly started to come from above. Right above Benito. 

The curly haired man was turned away, saying a silent prayer to himself, and blissfully unaware of what was above him. It was crawling out of the loft from above; nearly half of its body had already squeezed through the railing and was reaching toward him.

With only a split second to think, you ran forward to Benito, grabbing his hand that held the gun. 

You could feel the tension in his hand as he processed what was happening. With your momentum, you turned him, guiding his hand above your heads until he was pointing at the thing. You pressed down on his finger to pull the trigger, and luckily he didn’t hesitate.

The shot sounded with a loud pop, hitting it on its shoulder. Stunned, it fell forward from the rafter with a low groan, scarily close to the both of you. 

Benito was the one to spring into action this time before it even fully hit the ground. With one swift movement, he pushed you behind him, taking a large step to be in front of you. From the push, you were thrown to the ground onto your knees. He raised the gun once again and shot it twice more, making sure that it was completely dead before turning back to you. 

The normal chocolate brown eyes you’d gotten used to were now fully dark and frantic. He was studying you, but more than that, he was truly searching.

“Are you hurt?” It was the only question that came out in English.

He was speaking quickly, nearly at breakneck speed. No words, English or Spanish, weren’t making it to your ears though. It felt as if your brain was flooded with just as much panic and was turning to mush.

When you didn’t answer right away, he kneeled down to you. His hands abandoned the gun and started to glide over your arms - any and every inch of exposed skin he could see. You knew what he was searching for and part of you just let him; he was looking for any damages, cuts, or bites. However, his touch was making it much harder to concentrate on not panicking, and your body reacted in a way you weren't sure was appropriate. 

“Benito.” You spoke into the flood of noise.  

As he heard his name, he didn’t hesitate to grab your face between his hands. He was still speaking, but his voice had gone quieter. You could pick out basic words and phrases like “lo siento” and “atención”.

“Are you okay?” 

You’d barely registered you’d said anything; the words came out of you without any thought, low and vacant. But it was a genuine question you’d wanted to know the answer to.

For a moment, he looked stunned. He quieted his river of frantic words and stared at you with warm eyes. 

Slowly, he started to smile, which then turned into a soft relieved laugh. He moved his hands from your face to your wrists, wrapping around them. You didn’t realize how much you’d been trembling until his warm hands stilled you.

He let his forehead tip, falling onto your shoulder.

“Ai, Cariño,” He hummed, “You scared me. So bad.”

You let yourself laugh a little, but it came out shaky. 

“I’m sorry I grabbed you,” you started, “I-I wasn’t really thinking; I just thought that it was reaching for you, and there wasn’t much time–”

“No, no. Me salvaste.” He interrupted, “I’m okay. ‘Cause of you.”

He gave you a sincere smile before he turned to look at the lifeless thing a few feet away. He made a disgusted face before standing and offering his hands to you. 

As he helped you off the floor, your legs felt weak and you stumbled slightly. Benito held onto your hands tighter, helping you steady yourself. He noticed how unsteady you were breathing and grabbed your shoulders. 

“Ey,” He murmured, “You okay?”

You nodded, but you could still feel your heart beating against your ribcage, furious and unyielding. You wanted to explain, but all you could manage to do was grasp at your chest.

Benito understood without you having to say a word. He took in a deep breath, motioning for you to do the same. You sucked in a large breath of air and held it for a second before he led you in breathing it out slowly.

It took you a second to really register everything around you, but after you did this a couple of times, you felt like you could breathe on your own. Your heartbeat started to slow and your senses didn’t feel as flooded. 

When you were stable enough, Benito gave you a kind, yet triumphant, smile. 

For a moment, the air became still. There was a new sort of tension in the air, but neither of you dared to make any sort of movement; all too aware of the current heightened situation that had just occurred.

Instead, you were the one to study him.

He was surprisingly well kept for having been outside for weeks; he had nice facial hair and he didn’t let his curls get too out of control either. Here in the daylight, his eyes were more than chocolate, but the earth itself - warm and rich and deep. You could stare into his eyes for hours and still be searching.

Your gaze fell to his lips. They were plump and pink and formed the slightest pout when still. When his tongue darted out between them, you quickly diverted your attention to his cheeks.

It could’ve been from the heat that day, but his cheeks were flushed a deep rosey pink. However, you secretly hoped it was for the same reason you were starting to blush.

Your heart began to hammer again, but for a different reason, and it was like your mind was suddenly thrown into overdrive. You started asking yourself too many questions:

What if I’m only feeling this way because of the proximity? Am I projecting too much of Nate onto him? Would it be fair to either of us?

Benito seemed to have noticed the difference in your demeanor, as he squeezed your shoulder, reminding you that he was still there.

He turned his head to look at the thing, “Let’s go to a different place. Este lugar me hace sentir incómodo. I have the creeps.”

You simply nodded, still not able to trust yourself with words.

Before you could move, Benito squeezed your shoulder again. He placed a finger to your forehead, speaking slowly.

“Piensas demasiado. You think too much.” He whispered with a small smile, “Una de cal y otra de arena. Good and bad.” 

“I know.” 

Another uneasy laugh bubbled out of you, but this time it felt more like yourself. 

After he picked up the gun again, he placed his other hand on the small of your back, giving you a small push to walk. The touch gave you shivers, but you took the hint and started making your way back to the front. This time, he walked much closer beside you.

As the two of you passed the music room, he let out a sigh. It had seemed like a really nice idea at the time, but this was a stark reminder of the world you were living in that nice things weren’t going to last.

It crossed your mind to turn back and relax and play some music for a while, but with a place this big, you didn’t want to take anymore chances by being loud. Benito knew this too, and so the two of you grabbed your stuff and got out of the church.

Not wanting to walk too much further, you decided to check out the barn across the street instead as it was a more simple building. The two of you did a much more thorough sweep of the area, and especially above in the little barn loft.

Deeming it safe, you two boarded up the barn door with hay stacks and boxes. Once you felt confident that those things wouldn’t make their way in, you put your stuff down and finally sat on the floor to relax.

As you sat, you started taking out the supplies to make yourselves dinner. 

You still didn’t feel one hundred percent back to normal, but doing something with your hands helped. 

Benito, on the other hand, took up his time to make a bigger pile of hay in the middle of the floor; much bigger than for a fire. But, as soon as he spread the blanket over top, you understood he was making a place to sleep. Before you could even say anything, he was already laying down and settling in on the makeshift mattress.

You let out a laugh at him, “Comfy?” 

He let out a large sigh, only humming in response.

You made a tiny fire and threw two cans of canned potatoes on to cook. They weren’t the best, but they were starchy and weren’t the worst of the vegetables in cans.

 You felt good, even though you’d initially found the foods, he was typically the one to cook. So, it felt nice to do it for him for a change. Plus, any distraction was welcomed.

Once they were done and cooled, you gently called his name. He got up from the little hay mattress and lazily plopped down beside you as you handed him his portion of potatoes.

Without much hesitation, he took them with a sleepy smile, and bent forward to place a kiss on your cheek.

You looked at him in shock, but he just smirked, quickly stuffing his mouth with the potatoes. A deep blush crept across your cheeks and a small smile fell across your lips. You looked away from him, digging into your portion of food.

As you ate, you fell into the comfortable silence that had become normal for the both of you. The moment almost felt domestic, like you were just sharing a meal before bed.

Once done, Benito wasted no time before getting back onto his haystack. He let out a dramatic yawn before putting his arms behind his head.

Rolling your eyes fondly, you started to make your way around the barn to gather hay for yourself. But before you could even grab one stack, Benito was sitting up, giving you a confused look.

“What?” You asked, when you noticed him.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

You furrowed your brow at him, and pointed to the stack he laid on, “Making that. But for me.”

Clear disappointment crossed his face as he bit the inside of his lip, almost like he was stopping himself from pouting. He moved so there was more than enough space beside him on the blanket. He placed a hand on the empty space as he spoke.

“Me sentiré mucho más cómodo contigo aquí.” His voice was a murmur, “If you want, I would feel safer.”

He didn’t press - he only looked at you, expectantly - patting the blanket.

You sucked in a big breath.

And before you could overthink, you crawled onto the makeshift bedding beside him. He smiled at you, that same triumphant smirk as before.

You weren’t touching, nor did either of you make any attempt to get closer. You adjusted to get comfortable, and he did the same, leaving your shoulders hovering beside each other. You could feel his warmth radiating onto your skin, and you automatically felt more relaxed than you had all day.

There was a sort of electricity between you that you couldn’t quite describe, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. There was no need to act on it; it just lightly buzzed lightly between you.

“Are you religious?” 

Not wanting to stir anything, you kept your gaze on the ceiling above you. Your question came out a little too quick; too pointed for the air between you, but he answered anyway, low and steady.

“No mucho,” you felt the brush of his shoulder as he shrugged, “I pray sometimes for my family.” 

“What about for yourself?” 

He let out a chuckle, “Sometimes.” 

A moment passed of stilled air when he spoke again, “I prayed for you.”

You turned your head to him to see he was already facing you.

“For me?”

He nodded, “I asked that the ones you loved watch over you.”

“That’s really sweet of you.”

“Incluso si no rezara, igualmente pediría todo para asegurarme de que estés a salvo.”

You gave him a questioning look, silently asking him to translate, but he just smiled, knowing exactly what he was doing. He turned onto his back and spoke your name out into the quiet, wishing you a goodnight.

Before long, Benito’s light snores were filling the air. You smiled to yourself, truly envying the way he was able to turn his brain off and allow himself to rest.

However, that night, it didn’t take you much longer to fall asleep as well.

****

Sometime in the morning, just before the sun had fully risen, you’d fluttered your eyes open, only to realize the gap between you and Benito had been filled.

The two of you had migrated together; your arms flushed skin to skin. Your head was rolled to the side with your face pressed in close to his neck. Benito’s nose pressed back against your crown and you could feel him breathing evenly against your head.

You could feel your heart speeding up at the proximity, but you tried to remain as still as possible so as not to disturb him. Your mind, however, was running itself ragged with its thoughts.

This was technically exactly what you were afraid of: getting too close.

Even if you acted on any of these deep rooted feelings, it would all be fleeting. 

You and Benito couldn’t possibly make anything work. To you, it would be the biggest heartbreak if you lost someone again, and that was something you had to remind yourself of constantly.

So, you tried to ration with your brain - logistically, you’d only known him for a little less than a week. Neither of you knew anything about what each other was like before the sickness; let alone the culture of each other’s lives. For all you knew, you could’ve been starkly opposite - too opposite to attract.

You stopped yourself.

You knew you could ration with your head all you wanted, but he was no longer a stranger. He wasn’t just some guy you met off the street - you both were doing everything you could to help each other. He was someone that you needed, whether you wanted to accept that or not.

In a world like this when you could lose anyone so easily, you sometimes forgot that you couldn’t think too far ahead. Even if this was fleeting, maybe it was worth it.

Benito’s words from the day before echoed in your mind: Piensas Demasiado. You did think too much.

Allowing yourself to be in a fleeting moment, you closed your eyes and shifted yourself gently until your head was on his chest. He adjusted to your movements lightly, but remained asleep.

You listened to Benito’s heartbeat: strong and steady. And beating.

You stayed awake until the sun started to come through the cracks in the wood of the walls. Thoughts would try and push their way to the forefront of your mind, but you’d simply deflect them by focusing in on his heartbeat or snores.

It was hard to peel yourself away; you wanted to stay in that moment for the rest of eternity. 

However, you knew you had to keep moving.

You shook him awake gently, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours. He gave you a bit of a dopey smile, making you laugh, before he sat up and shook off the hay that had gotten stuck to him.

He leaned over, bumping your shoulder lightly with his.

“Okay?” 

You nodded, bumping back into him.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to get back into rhythm. The two of you packed your things and made your way out of the barn, back onto the road.

The proximity of your walk had become much closer too. You didn’t dare mention it and neither did he - maybe both too afraid the rose-colored glass would break - but your arms and knuckles would brush against each other lightly. 

You weren’t even half a mile away from the barn when Benito suddenly stopped walking, pulling you to a stop as well.

Neither of you had said anything since you’d left, too engrossed in your mind and in each other, so seeing him look so puzzled made you perk up.

His brows furrowed deeply in concentration.

“Do you hear that?” He asked, cutting through the silence. “¿Oyes eso?”

You listened for a moment, but couldn’t hear anything out of the ordinary. You shook your head, ready to speak when Benito held up a finger to his lips.

“Escucha atentamente,” his voice dropped to a whisper, “Someone is screaming.”

You frowned at him in confusion, but did as he said and tried to listen harder.

Sure enough, there were distant screams calling for help in random intervals. Sometimes it would call three in a row before cutting out completely. It was coming from what sounded like up the road. 

Before you could even begin to think about who they could be from, Benito had already started walking faster in the direction of the call. You took a few long strides to catch up to him, grabbing his arm, but that didn’t stop him.

“Benito.” You warned.

“We should help.”

“What?” you could feel your mind start to go into overdrive once again, “And go out of our way? What if it’s a trap? Hay gente loco…”

He wasn’t exactly listening to you, but he shook his head in protest. He was starting to pick up pace by jogging, “Ellos no saben que estamos aquí.”

You sighed, frustrated you weren’t sure what he said.

“Benito! Let’s think about this before running full speed into something that could be dangerous.” 

This time it was a call, but he was blatantly ignoring you now. You ran to catch up again and pulled on his arm, effectively stopping him this time.

“Hey, please,” you were begging, “Think.”

“No. Por favor, cariño. You think.” He grabbed your arm right back, “Necesitamos ayudarlos. We need to, or they’ll die. I ran to you too.”

 He let go of your arm, and you let him. He didn’t say anything else, but gave you an apologetic look before turning away, beginning to jog again toward the direction of the screams. Though still apprehensive, you didn’t want him to go alone, so you followed close behind. You were desperately trying to not let the panic bubbling in your chest get the best of you.

The screaming got closer and closer the further up you jogged, telling you you were going in the right direction. It made your heart keep jumping, thinking that maybe you were going into something disastrous, but the two of you kept on.

You got up to the highway when the yelling was the loudest, and it was no denying they were calling for help, just as Benito had said. 

Benito kept in front of you with the pistol held high. Defenseless, you stood close behind the burlier man and kept watch for anything suspicious around.

As the two of you rounded the entry ramp, you could immediately see a hoard of things and a guy. To say you were outnumbered was a bit of an understatement, as there were probably a dozen to this one guy. And now just the two of you. 

This stranger wasn’t running away, though, he was running and dodging around them, trying to pick up all kinds of items scattered on the ground. 

Before you could get any kind of good look at this new stranger, Benito didn’t hesitate before shooting. Several of them fell to the ground instantly. The guy’s attention went toward the two of you, as did the attention of the things, but you were quick to grab Benito’s arm.

As you were pulling the curly haired man toward a car to take cover, he reloaded the gun with more ammo. You still hadn’t gotten a good look at the stranger, but you could hear him running behind, gathering more items.

In the time he was distracted, the things had approached the car, ganging up around the both of you. Your hand was grasping his arm as your heart started to pound again. He didn’t waste anymore time before letting the shots ring out, and the things fell to the ground around you.

The air went quiet, until a loud raspy voice filled it.

“Oh my God, thank you so much, I dropped my shit all over the fucking place and ran out of bullets. I didn’t think anyone would hear me, but you two saved my–”

Benito stood from the car, making a loud sound of joy.

“Marcelo!”

“Holy shit! Benito!”

The curly haired man beside you was up faster than lightning, running to the stranger that apparently wasn’t a stranger to him. The two of them quite literally slammed into each other. Benito pulled him in for a hug with a large smile which the guy reciprocated.

You watched as the two started talking animatedly to each other. They were speaking fluently and quickly and happily. You were stunned that they seemed to know each other, having a lot of questions yourself, but didn’t want to interfere or interrupt them as they had their reunion. You stood off to the side a bit awkwardly as the two had their moment and simply observed.

This guy, Marcelo, was a bit shorter than Benito with longer and straighter chestnut hair and bright brown eyes. He was handsome in his own right, as he had a larger than life smile as he spoke.

It wasn’t that you intended to listen, but you were trying to get better at Spanish. 

From Benito’s short lessons on the road, you caught only a few words here and there, as they spoke really quickly. You noted that Marcelo had a different dialect, making things a little more difficult to grasp from him.

You could gather that they were asking each other tons of questions, and though you couldn’t quite understand what the questions were, you sort of got the gist that they were asking about where they came from and where they were going.

Then, they started talking about New York - that you understood too - and Benito held out his hand to you, silently asking for you to come to him. You took the hint and walked toward the two as Benito’s hand grazed the small of your back, gently pulling you to his side.

Marcello wagged his eyebrows at you, smiling as he pointed to Benito, “Y podrás tener algo de privacidad con él.”

The man beside you let out a low chuckle, “She speaks Spanish like I speak English.”

“Oh,” 

Marcello looked puzzled, glancing between the both of you a couple of times; the question in his mind glaringly obvious, but he kept it to himself. Instead, he shook his head and flashed a large smile your way. 

“Then you had no idea what we said, huh?” 

You laughed, shaking your head, “I caught a little, but not a lot.” 

“Well,” Marcelo reached for your hand which you gave to him. He held it as delicately as possible and bowed low. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit at that.

“A chanté, Mademoiselle,” Marcello continued, dipping down to plant a kiss on the back of your hand, “Allow me to catch you up. I am Marcello, this goon’s first cousin once removed - my mom’s his mom’s cousin.”

“Mira a ver.” 

The words escaped Benito’s mouth in a whisper, and you were quick to catch the subtle eye roll he did before Marcello started talking again, backing away to look at the both of you.

“He tells me about you two going to New York for his family. And that’s where we just came from too.”

“You also came from New York?” 

“Also? Nah, we escaped,” He clarified, “I was up there auditioning for some things when all of this got in the way. Once the police got more in the way, we got the fuck out of there. I’m surprised you didn’t get out of there too.”

“‘Mano…” Benito warned aloud.

Marcelo ran a hand through his hair, “Sorry. I don’t mean it that way. I just mean that things were getting really bad there, you know, with the police-state? It’s only getting worse up there. But, we did see his family before we left - they’d promised they weren’t going anywhere from the hotel they were at. And if the police have anything to do with it, they’re probably really stuck there.”

“Really?” You sighed, “It’s gotten that bad?” 

“Unfortunately.” Marcelo gave you a sad smile, “Apparently no one’s in, and no one’s out. Everyone is stuck where they are up north.”

Your mind wandered as you just nodded to him. 

Benito’s hand pressed against your back, trying to be comforting, “Well figure it out. Creo que deberíamos quedarnos con él. Just for a couple of days.”

Once again, Marcelo’s eyes darted between you both.

“Did you understand him just then?” Marcelo turned to you again with genuine wonder.

“Uh, y-yeah, I think so.” You shrugged, feeling bashful all of a sudden with both of their eyes on you, “Kinda. I use a lot of context clues.”

Marcelo gave a wide smile between the both of you before turning to his cousin, giving Benito a friendly pat on the shoulder.

“Okay then. If y’all want to come with me, we gotta start walking now before it’s dark.” He sighed and looked down at some of his items still scattered on the ground, “And y’all need to help me pick up my shit.”

Most of the items he’d dropped had been bottles and cans of formula and medicine. You had some questions about this, as Marcelo hadn’t said anything about babies.

Benito must’ve had the same thoughts in his mind, as he asked Marcelo aloud, “¿Para qué es esto?”

Marcelo gave a fond smile, speaking out loud for the both of you, “We have some families - old and young, and one expecting. So, the more we can get and band together, the better it is.”

“Why is it just you out here then?”

“I volunteered,” Marcelo shrugged, “What’s a little excitement now and again?”

After you’d gathered most of the items he’d dropped, he thanked you both profusely. When the three of you were ready, the shorter of the two men started directly down the highway.

The two men were catching up in front while you walked a pace or two behind. You didn’t mind, as you enjoyed listening to Benito speak so fluently and openly. Every once in a while, Benito would glance back at you just to make sure you were still there.

“I think you two might be the luckiest people in this world.” Marcelo said it out of the blue, glancing back at you, “Like, what are the fucking chances?”

Benito turned to look at you, and the two of you caught eyes. 

“Espero que mi suerte nunca se acabe.”

He gave you a genuine smile and you couldn’t help but do the same.

Bad Bunny x girlfriend!reader. word count: 2.7k

summary. Benito can't sleep the night before his new album comes out.

warnings & tags. fem!reader. established relationship. fluff. a little bit angsty but nothing too serious. panic attacks. mentions of DtMF. words in spanish. english isn't my first language.

a/n. hii! so i watched recently one of benito's interviews where he said that the night before DtMF dropped he woke up feeling anxious, so i thought i could do smth w that. hope you like it 🤍🐸 Credits to the owners of the dividers! masterlist

Benito was one of those people who put every part of themselves into what they loved.

When he cooked —something he loved doing whenever he could— he made an effort to get every detail perfect, just the way you liked it and the way he liked it. When he played dominoes with his friends and family, he did whatever it took to give his all and make the game especially incredible.

So it was no surprise that when he made new music, he tried to make every detail, every melody, every lyric perfect.

Debí Tirar Más Fotos was his most precious album. It was a part of him he had never fully shown his fans. Part of him was nervous, thinking maybe it wouldn't be good enough, but another part reassured him that it would go well, that his fans would recognize the dedication behind all that work and appreciate it deeply.

The last few days had been a nightmare for Benito.

Despite loving his work and giving everything he had, he had a tendency to leave everything for the last minute. Sometimes unintentionally, sometimes on purpose. But it had happened again, so this last week had been spent working every minute and every hour of the day, leaving him maybe 4 or 3 hours of sleep.

His day consisted of waking up earlier than he wanted to admit, running to the kitchen where he would find you with a smile and a coffee waiting for him. He would tell you he loved you in murmurs while pressing his chest against your back. He wished he could spend more time with you, but it wasn't possible no matter how hard he tried.

You spent at least 30 minutes together in the morning. Benito rushed around the house between outfit changes and his coffee, which always spilled a few drops because he walked so fast.

You always scolded him, rolling your eyes. Still, he would walk up to you and say “Perdóname, mami. Tú sabe' que yo te amo.” (Forgive me, mami. You know I love you) with a sly smile, leaving quick kisses on your lips before grabbing a napkin to clean his mess.

Some days you accompanied him to the studio. You gave ideas that sometimes worked and sometimes didn't. On those days, he got excited. There were few days when you were free to spend time with him even while he worked, but when you did, Benito got more excited than he admitted.

He spent hours with his coworkers and friends writing and recording, but in other moments he came over to you. Sometimes he sat on the couch and pulled you onto his lap, leaving caresses and squeezes on your thighs. Other times he hugged you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaving wet kisses on your neck and cheek.

“Let me know when you get tired y te dejo en la casa, mami.” (and I'll take you home, mami) he said every time you accompanied him to the studio.

When he saw you blinking more than usual, he made sure to stop for a moment to take you home. He knew he was short on time to release his album, but he would never let his girl feel uncomfortable or unable to do something because of him. Never.

However, those busy days had finally ended. That same day, hours before releasing the album, he had finished his new project.

Before sleeping, he had talked to you. He told you in whispers, lying in your shared bed, how excited he was. Lying like little kids again, with a sheet over your heads, confessing small secrets you might not have told each other before. Between laughter, caresses, and kisses, you both fell asleep. You rested with your head on his chest, while he held you with both arms around your body, as if he didn't want you to go too far while you slept.

It didn't feel like much time had passed since you closed your eyes when you felt your head hit the pillow in a sudden movement. Blinking quickly, you noticed Benito sitting up, his chest rising faster than normal.

“Beni?” you whispered, not knowing what was happening. You pushed yourself up on your elbows, getting closer to him but not touching him yet.

Benito placed both hands over his face, dragging them up into his hair and leaving them there. His chest kept moving rapidly. Worried, you placed your hand on his bare back, noticing it was covered in sweat.

“Hey” you said softly, bringing your hand to his cheek, trying to gently guide his face toward you, but not applying enough pressure in case that wasn't what he wanted.

He removed his hands from his head and pointed at his chest, trying to say he couldn't breathe well, that his heart was beating much faster than normal. You understood immediately because it wasn't the first time.

“It's okay, baby.” you whispered into his ear, leaving a soft kiss there.

You tried to get out of bed to open the windows. In moments like this, you had learned that the best thing for him was to let the air circulate, to help him feel like he could breathe better. However, you knew he needed you close. So it wasn't surprising when he grabbed your wrist —between uneven breaths— when you moved a few centimeters too far.

“I'm going to open the windows quickly and I'll be right back, I'm not going anywhere. Lo prometo, amor.” (I promise, love) you said, caressing his hand gently. Only then did he calm down enough to let you go.

You quickly walked to the windows, opening them as much as you could; the streetlights and moonlight entered, illuminating the room a bit more. Then you opened the bathroom door and the bedroom door before returning to the bed.

That was when you could finally see his face completely. There were tears on his cheeks, and his cheeks were redder than usual, something that happened when he was overheated or feeling something intensely. His lips were also redder from biting them. One of his hands pressed against his chest, right over his heart.

“No-No puedo...” (I-I can't...) he tried to say while staring at the mattress.

“¿No puedes qué, Beni? Tell me, love, I'm right here.” (Can't what, Beni?) you said, sitting in front of him, placing your hands on his thighs because you didn't want to invade his space completely.

“No puedo subirlo...” (I can't drop it...) he finally said after a few seconds of silence and doubtful glances. “I can't do it.”

That was when you truly understood what it was all about.

“No le va a gustar. No va a ser suficiente.” (They're not going to like it. It's not going to be enough.)

Benito spoke nonstop while shaking his head. You felt your heart break into tiny pieces seeing the tears falling from his eyes.

You knew the connection he had with this album. With his country, with his family, with every moment he had lived. It was his most precious work.

“Beni...” you tried to speak, but your voice cracked on its own.

“Se siente horrible porque sé que personas seguirán criticando sin siquiera saber quién soy. Pero quizás esto no es para mí, quizás es demasiado y lo que estoy por lanzar no será suficiente.” (It feels horrible because I know people will keep criticizing without even knowing who I am. But maybe this isn't for me, maybe it's too much and what I'm about to release won't be enough.) he said in Spanish, feeling safer in that language. Even then, his voice broke every few seconds, as if he couldn't let it all out without falling apart.

Benito kept breathing fast, as if each inhale cost him more than the last. His fingers trembled slightly as he wiped his tears with the inside of his wrist.

“It's just... I don't know, mami,” he murmured softly, almost embarrassed to hear himself. “Siento que... que no va a ser suficiente. Que... que la gente va a pensar que estoy... que estoy bajando, ¿me entiende'? Que ya no soy el mismo.” (I feel like... like it's not going to be enough. That... that people are going to think I'm... that I'm going downhill, you know? That I'm not the same anymore)

He shook his head again, pressing his lips together until they turned even redder.

“And I... I tried, really. I put everything into it. Everything I had. But... I don't know if that's enough.”

You, who knew him better than anyone, didn't contradict him immediately. You didn't say “of course it is” because you knew he couldn't receive that in this state. What he needed was to feel seen, not corrected.

You moved closer, slowly, like approaching a frightened little animal you didn't want to scare. You placed your hand over his, the one pressing his chest.

“Beni... mírame un momento, amor.” (Look at me for a moment, love)

He took his time. He blinked several times, struggling to focus, but eventually lifted his gaze. His eyes were shiny, wet, and vulnerable in a way only you had ever seen.

“You don't have to be enough for everyone.” you said softly, careful not to startle him. “You just have to be you. And you... you always give more than you have. Siempre.” (Always)

Benito swallowed hard, lowering his gaze again.

“Pero... ¿y si no les gusta? ¿Y si piensan que... que estoy hablando mierda? ¿Y si...?” (But... what if they don't like it? What if they think... that I'm talking shit? What if...?)

His voice broke. It literally cracked on the last word. That was when you leaned in closer —knowing it was the right moment— until your knees touched his. You cupped his face gently with both hands, as if he were made of glass.

“Mi amor... tú no haces música pa' gustarle a todo el mundo (My love... you don't make music to please everyone). You make music to say what you feel. And that... that has always been what makes you great.”

He closed his eyes, as if your words hurt him and healed him at the same time.

“Pero tengo miedo,” (But I'm scared) he confessed softly, almost inaudible. “Tengo miedo, mami. No quiero fallar.” (I'm scared, mami. I don't want to fail)

You spoke the way he did in interviews when he was honest: without embellishment, without ego, without a fake persona.

“It's okay to be scared,” you whispered, resting your forehead against his. “Pero no estás solo. Estoy aquí. Estoy contigo (But you're not alone. I'm here. I'm with you). And you're not going to fail, because you made this with your heart. And when you do something with your heart... it always reaches people.”

Benito let out a soft sob, one of those he tried to hold back but couldn't. He grabbed your waist and pulled you toward him, hiding his face in your neck as if he needed to disappear there for a moment.

“Quédate aquí... por favor,” (Stay here... please) he murmured against your skin. “No te vayas.” (Don't go)

“Ni loca me voy,” (I'm not going anywhere) you replied, running your fingers through his hair. “Breathe with me, okay? Poquito a poquito.” (Little by little)

And there, while he tried to follow your breathing, you held him. You didn't force him to calm down. You simply stayed with him, and that, for him, was enough to begin settling.

Benito kept breathing against your neck, still trembling a little, but no longer with the desperation that had woken you. Your fingers moved slowly along his nape, in small circles, just the way he liked when he was on the edge.

You felt his chest begin to slow down, even though his hands still clung to your waist as if afraid you might disappear if he loosened his grip.

“Yo sé que tú tienes miedo,” (I know you're scared,) you whispered, staying still, letting your voice remain steady. “y está bien. No tienes que ser fuerte ahora mismo. Al menos no conmigo.” (and it's okay. You don't have to be strong right now. At least not with me)

Benito didn't answer. He only pressed his forehead deeper into your collarbone, as if he needed to feel you to believe you.

“Listen to me” you murmured, stroking his sweat-damp hair. “You made this album with love, with your story, with your truth, and people feel that and always have. It doesn't matter if there are critics, it doesn't matter if someone doesn't understand it. What you do... touches people. And that isn't measured in numbers or comments.” 

He swallowed hard, and even though you couldn't see him, you knew he had closed his eyes.

“Y si mañana te despiertas y todavía tienes miedo” (And if tomorrow you wake up and you're still scared) you added, “yo voy a estar aquí. Para recordártelo cada vez que necesites escucharlo, Ben.” (I'll be here. To remind you every time you need to hear it, Ben)

Benito lifted his head just enough to look at you. His eyes were still shiny, but the panic was gone. Now there was only exhaustion and a deep, vulnerable affection he rarely showed.

“Thank you” he murmured, with that soft voice he only used with you. “De verdad... gracias, mami.” (Really... thank you, mami.)

You wiped a tear from his cheek with your thumb, gently, not wanting to hurt him.

“No tienes que agradecerme nada,” (You don't have to thank me for anything) you replied. “Yo estoy aquí porque te amo. Y porque tú también estarías aquí si fuera al revés.” (I'm here because I love you. And because you'd be here too if it were the other way around)

He nodded slowly, as if your words settled something inside him. Then he let himself fall back onto the bed, pulling you with him without letting go. You settled on his chest, feeling his breathing finally find a calmer rhythm.

His hands, once tense, now rested on your back with more ease and security.

“Quédate así,” (Stay like this) he whispered. “Don't move, please, baby.”

“I'm not moving, love.” you said, closing your eyes as you continued to stroke his bare chest with slow movements. “Duerme. Yo te tengo.” (Sleep. I've got you)

And for the first time that night, he let his body surrender. His breathing deepened, and you felt his chest rise and fall beneath your cheek, steadier each time.

Before you fell asleep too, you leaned in just enough to whisper something else, knowing he might not fully hear it, but that it would stay somewhere inside him anyway.

“Tú eres suficiente, papi. You always have been.” (You are enough, papi)

The room fell silent, illuminated only by the faint light from the street coming through the open window. And that was how the night ended. With him holding onto you and you protecting him with your calm. Just two people breathing together, finding peace in each other.

could you do one where they're exes that should most definitely still be together but reader doesn't want to get back together but benito is so persistent? and they bump into each other somewhere, hook up and realize they're meant to be?

requesting feels super cringe for some reason... or maybe it's just me

anywayyy do whatever u want this request u can change things to suit ur vision and thank uuu xx love love ur work!!!

Oh, So Desperate

masterpost

word count: 6.9k

pairings: bad bunny x fem!reader, (mentions of platonic!joe keery x fem!reader)

warnings: SMUT (18+), jealousy, shouting, cursing

A/N: please don’t ever let something stop you from sending requests! Thank you for sending me this, I loooooved writing it!!!!😫🫶🏼 I live for pleading and yearning men🤭😮‍💨 I really hope you enjoy this and it lives up to your expectations🥰🫶🏼

He didn’t expect to see you that day. Not here, at a pre-Grammy party. But there you stood. Benito’s eyes raked you up and down, the white floor-length gown that made you look like a goddess - as if you weren’t already one. A few strings, bedazzled with diamonds, held up the right side of it, while one short piece of chiffon fell off your other shoulder, letting the dimmed light hit your collarbone. Your back was exposed to the entire crowd behind you, including him, but he could recognise the silhouette he had fallen in love with so long ago in any room.

You hadn’t seen him, or at least that’s what he had thought. Truth was, of course, you had known your ex-boyfriend would be here too. Nominated for six Grammys this year, he was forced to attend any event in correlation with the award show. And you couldn’t have been prouder. But you couldn’t let him know. Not after what had happened.

Four wonderful years the two of you had spent together in pure bliss. The ups and downs your relationship had faced, you had conquered with ease - until you couldn’t anymore. Spending days and nights together in your shared house, holidays with each other's families, big vacation trips and parties with friends and other celebrities.

Going from almost never being apart to not seeing each other for multiple weeks had taken a toll on your relationship. So much that you had drifted apart. With his touring and your acting schedule, it had suddenly turned out to be a much harder thing to keep up. Spending time together had become a chore, a note on your list to check off. That’s not how the relationship had started out, and not what you had ever wanted it to become. But it did.

And that’s why you had made the final decision to separate. It was you who had brought it up, ripping Benito’s heart apart as soon as the words had left your lips. The living room, usually filled with giggles and background music, had suddenly fallen dead silent. But it dragged you into a dark hole just as much.

You had planned your entire life around each other. Had your future perfectly designed. The conversation of marriage had come up more and more, growing more serious with each mention of his. Benito had the ring ready. But he had wanted to wait. Until the tour was over, until you could spend more time together again. But then you had dropped the bomb of separation. Packed your things up within a few days and left with a warm last hug, a deep kiss for history books and multiple boxes and suitcases loaded up in a car, which just showed you how big a part you had had in his life. In your shared four walls. Leaving him with a house, not a home.

Now it’s been over a year of no contact. Months of looking at an empty lockscreen. Weeks of torture. Days of quiet nights filled with tears (and a lot of wine). But that misery had slowly managed to turn into normality. Filling your schedule with more tasks than you’d usually have managed to keep you busy and distracted from what you were truly missing, or who.

Benito didn’t get over it. Not even a little bit. While you had managed to derive the focus back on yourself, getting in better shape than you had ever been in and enjoying the time you had to express yourself through your work, the singer was drowning. Distracting himself by partying with random people, drinking with friends, spending time with his family, and then deciding on multiple concerts back home. God, he wrote an entire album through the mourning of losing the best thing that had ever happened to him. But on stage, he was Bad Bunny. Playboy and happy bachelor, who danced a little too sensually with other women. No one would have known how much he had been craving your touch each night as soon as the adrenaline had worn off.

Your new acting and modelling credits had gotten you a spot among the most-spoken about celebs on the internet, giving the Grammys no other choice but to pick you as one of the people to announce an award during the show. And then, they had decided to pair you up with Joe Keery. You had gotten to know each other over the past few years, and your fandoms absolutely ate up each interaction the two of you shared. Your friendship developed as naturally as it possibly could - shared music taste and humour usually did that.

But the only thing Benito saw at that moment was you, hands on a man that wasn’t him, as you couldn’t contain your laughter, leaning into him. The grip on his glass of champagne tightened, almost turning his knuckles white. Taking a deep breath, he tried to ignore the tug on his heart as he diverted his eyes to anywhere else in the room, but somehow his body continued to turn towards you - his heart craving what his brain was trying to ignore.

You excused yourself for a moment, trusting Joe with your drink in the meantime, before you left the room. Benito couldn’t help but notice. Glancing around, he tried to see if anyone would notice, but as he came alone, he chose to follow. Icognito. After waiting a few seconds, he headed towards the same direction, not even sure where you had gone.

He found himself in an empty hallway with multiple doors, some leading to bathrooms, closets, as well as a back-entrance door where others could escape the crowd for a short while. Crossing the floor back and forth, he passed the time, trying to come up with an excuse. Why was he standing there? What was his goal with the action of going after you?

Before he could even think of anything, a force slammed into his back.

With your head down, patting down your dress after exiting the bathroom again, you didn’t see the person in front of you.

“Oh- sorry,” you quickly looked up, apologising to the broad back. “I didn’t loo-” Your excuse was cut short once you came face to face with who you had just rammed. “Hi,” a surprised breath left your lips at the sight of your ex-boyfriend.

Benito, wide-eyed, forced a smile to his lips, “Hey, you okay?”

You nodded hastily with a gulp, “Yeah, yeah, I-,” shaking your head, “sorry, I was- I was looking down and didn’t look where I was going.”

“How are you?” His sudden question caught you off guard, clutching the space between your breasts and stomach, feeling a sudden knot forming inside of you.

“Good, good,” you tried to sound convincing, not wanting to admit the desperation filling you as you couldn’t find the strength to look away from his doey eyes. Playing with your hair, you continued the conversation, “How have you been?”

The singer nodded slightly hesitantly, switching the glass of champagne into his other hand before scratching his neck. “I’m okay. I- I- good, good too.”

You copied his action, “That sounds good...”, trying to come up with a way out of the situation you had somehow found yourself in. Before you could even open your mouth again, Benito beat you to it,

“Why are you here?”

“Me?” Your head snapped towards him, wanting to punch yourself as soon as those words left your mouth - of course, he was talking about you. “I- I’m an announcer. With Joe. We’re gonna announce the nominees for Best Original Song.”

“Oh, cool,” he commented, anything other than actually amused or happy to hear what you had just said. “I’m nominated for that.”

“I know,” you sent him a smile that hopefully didn’t look as forced as it felt, “I saw. Congrats, the- the album is... it’s really beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Benito answered with a genuine heart, his hand coming up to touch the left side of his chest. “Eso vale un mundo, viniendo de ti (That's worth a world, coming from you). It means a lot. From you,” he was fixed on your eyes while you tried so hard to destroy that intensity of his stare. “What’s your favourite song?”

The question caught you slightly off guard. Whether you should come up with a lie about not having listened to it too much, or tell the truth about how it had been in your Top 5 Most Listened To Albums of 2025. A handful of songs brought tears to your eyes, the others making you want to dance, both categories bringing back memories you had tried to lock away. Between the most popular song everyone knew by now and the more niche ones, hitting the very suppressed memories of the relationship the two of you had, you decided to mention a song that would fit right in between. Showing that you had listened to the album enough to know about it.

“Café con ron is really good,” you commented. “I really like that one,” keeping to yourself that the choice of your actual favourite one would fall between KETU TeCRÈ and KLOuFRENS. Songs too personal to admit that you had listened to them more times than you could count.

Benito nodded, “Yeah, I really like that too,” trying to find the right segue to his next question, when he just decided to add, “Any... any others you like?”

“The album is great,” you smiled politely, “it’s hard to pick favourites.”

“Well... I had a lot of inspiration,” he finally admitted, taking a deep breath right after the secret left his lips.

You caught a gasp threatening to escape your lips, swallowing it down and replacing it with a sigh as your gaze drifted to your shoes, “Beni...”

“Pero me bregó (But it helped me). It helped-,” he started, quickly interrupted by you.

“I didn’t want to-”

“I explained more in the songs than to you,” he added before you could say anything else.

You met his desperate gaze with your confused frown, “W-... What would you want to explain?”

“Everything,” he rushed out his answer, finally given the possibility to even say anything to you. “We- No terminó como uno esperaba (It didn’t end how I expected). It ended too quickly.”

Another sigh left your lips as you tried to think of the following wording, “Beni... maybe it felt quick to you. To me, it was very long. I thought about the decision for a really long time before I was even brave enough to tell you about it.”

“But you... You didn’t let me make it right. You just left,” Benito argued, making you shake your head, raising a hand to stop him.

“I really don’t want to fight about this. Especially not here. Not now. I thought we were over this-”

“Let’s talk later,” he tried to convince you.

“I don’t want to fight here. We’re at an event,” you continued to debate.

Benito simply shrugged as he reasoned, “We can talk at the hotel.”

An immediate frown made its way to your brows at the mention of a hotel. While you had moved from Miami to New York, where the two of you had met, only to then move to Los Angeles with him. He had always resided in LA whenever he was on the mainland of the US. You had switched back to the East Coast, telling yourself you’d need the entire width of the country to separate you and your ex (only for him to later rent an apartment not too far from you, but oh well).

All announcers and nominees stayed in the same hotel, as long as they didn’t have a residency in Los Angeles, including you. Why that would include Benito too though, confused you.

“The hotel?” You wondered.

He nodded, almost too nonchalantly for you to notice, “We’re staying at the same hotel-”

“You’re staying at a hotel here? W-... What happened to our- your house, I mean...,” slapping yourself mentally at the slip off your tongue, you hoped he didn’t notice. He did.

“I sold it.”

Your eyes widened. “You sold it?”

“I didn’t like it. Se sentía demasiada soledad sin ti allí. (It felt too lonely without you there.) It was too quiet,” he admitted quietly, his eyes diverting to the ground.

“Oh...,” you breathed out, looking around uncomfortably before you decided you had to exit the scene. “I’m sorry, Beni.”

But before you could leave, a gentle hand wrapped around your wrist, making you whip around.

“Mi nena, plea-”

“Don’t-”, you snapped at him before you could even realise the sharpness of your tone, immediately softening, “Don’t call me that.”

“Just one conversation,” Benito almost begged you, taking a step forward, making your breath hitch. His pleading eyes met yours. “Please, querida.”

The realisation of his confession dawned on you. And the soft spot in your heart, still occupied by him, didn’t let you just leave him.

You bit down on your lip, glancing down at his hand around you before whispering, “What room are you in?”

Benito gulped, shaking his head gently, “I- I can come to your-”

“No, no,” you interrupted him, “It’s okay... I’ll come to yours.”

He gave you his room number before letting go of you, sending you off with a kiss to your knuckles that made your knees buckle.

You joined Joe on the side of the room again, reclaiming your drink and talking the night away. Even with friends around you, keeping you enough company, you still couldn’t help but fall into a smiliar desperation to Benito. Your eyes suddenly looking for him in every corner. Every person who passed him, talked to him, even for just a split moment, was met with a soft glare from you that went unnoticed by them. The last thing you had expected from that night was to reconcile with your ex, making plans to meet him after staying out of contact for over a year. But there you were, almost jealous of not being next to him for the rest of the night.

After a few more hours, you asked to be taken back to the hotel, Joe joining you as he was staying there as well. During the drive, the two of you reminisced about the event, you leaving out the part of meeting your ex-boyfriend outside of the bathroom. But still, your mind kept drifting back to it. Back to the plans you had made and were about to face. Benito had left a good thirty minutes before you; you made sure of that. Exiting the room with a swift look towards you and a small smile that said ‘see you later’.

Joe and you said goobye and goodnight to each other before he got out of the elevator first, a few floors below you. Pursing your lips, drowning in your own thoughts, you finally reached your floor and stumbled out, brushing a hand over your face before you rounded the corner to your room for the night.

You came to a sudden halt at the sight of a wide figure in a tuxedo right in front of your door. Benito turned around at the sound of your muffled footsteps on the carpeted floor.

“What are you doing here?” You wondered out loud, grabbing your key card out of your bag. “How do you know which room I’m in?”

Your ex glanced around, seemingly nervous, as he played with his fingers. “I asked your assistant.”

“You asked my-,” you didn’t even finish your exclaim, taking a deep breath in and out before shaking your head and motioning for him to move to the side, so you could open the door.

Benito didn’t follow right away, waiting right by the threshold, leaning against the frame. “No tenemos que hablar aquí (We don’t have to talk here). I just wanted to wait for you. We can still go to-”

“Just come in,” you stopped him, motioning for him to move forward and join you. “And close the door, please.” After dropping your bag onto one of the armchairs in the room, you headed towards the minibar, looking for a bottle of water. “Do you want something to drink?” Your eyes met Benito’s while he was moving around the room slowly, his eyes drifting over the walls and furniture before landing on you, shaking his head.

“No. No, I’m good.”

You nodded in understanding, taking one gulp before heading towards the couch, throwing yourself onto it, finally releasing a deep breath, closing your eyes as you tilted your head back.

“Are you okay?” Benito worried, taking a better look at you.

“Yeah, yeah, just... my shoes have been killing me all night,” you complained breathlessly. “What is it about expensive designers making the most horrible shoes that look amazing?”

Pushing yourself to sit up straighter, you were about to lean forward when the singer was suddenly in front of you with a few large strides, catching you off guard, glancing up. He started to crouch down, never leaving your eyes,

“Let me...,” his hands slowly reached out, “help you.”

His hand wrapped around your ankle, lifting it up to rest it on his thigh. His fingers played with the clasp of your heel, opening the buckle before sliding the shoe off. While he tried to keep his focus on the footwear, he couldn’t help but let the featherlight touches graze over your skin. You pressed your lips together, closing your eyes for just a moment. Trying to ignore the sudden burning of them, you took a deep breath in.

A new, yet not at all foreign feeling, pulled you back into the presence. Your eyes caught Benito just as he leaned back up straight from having just placed a delicate kiss on your other ankle. Right as you realised what he had done, he cleared his throat, seemingly out of it for a moment as well.

You were quick to snatch your ankle back, sliding over the couch and standing up hastily.

“I- I’m sorry, querida-”

“Stop!” You exclaimed in frustration. “You wanted to talk. Not... not do this!” You raked your hand through your hair, “And I told you, you can’t call me anything anymore, Beni. We broke up. We-”

“I know!” Benito’s loud voice made you stop in your tracks, your eyes wide, looking at him in surprise. The tone of his voice was new to you. Never in your four years of being together did he ever raise his voice at you in such a way.

He continued, standing up from the floor, creating a bigger space between the two of you. “Yo lo sé, pero no lo puedo evitar. He estado pensando en ti todos los días desde que rompimos. ¿Tú te crees que yo puedo botar cuatro años así como si nada?” (I know, but I can't help it. I've been thinking about you every single day ever since we broke up. Do you think I can just throw away four years like nothing happened?)

You bit down on your lip, sighing in frustration, “You know my Spanish was never that good. You speak like a rapper, I don’t understand half of the things you’re trying to tell me.”

He took a deep breath in, meeting your gaze. “I think about you. A lot. All the time. I...,” he dared taking a few steps forward, testing the waters to see if you’d back up. “I tried to forget. For a year. But... I can’t. And I saw you today with him...,” he mumbled out loud, shaking his head at the memory of earlier.

“With who?” You shook your head in confusion.

“Your...,” Benito shrugged, “date.”

“My date?” You let out a scoff, “I didn’t have a date tonight.”

“Then whatever he was. I don’t-”

“Do you mean Joe?” The lightbulb turned on in your head. “My friend Joe?”

“He didn’t look like a friend,” he mumbled.

“Well, he is!” You almost shouted out, “And I don’t really understand why I have to defend myself in front of you. We’re not together anymore!”

“Ni me lo menciones. (Don’t remind me.)” Benito’s hand shot out to stop you.

“You started it!” You argued with clear distress. “You’re throwing things at me, I thought you wanted to talk, and I was stupid enough to believe you.” A heavy, shaky sigh fell from your lips, turning around.

“No, baby, no.” With a few quick strides, he rushed up to you, taking your hands into his to make you face him.

“Stop-,” you hissed out.

“I’m sorry!” Benito was quick to excuse himself, “I’m sorry. I am. Mil disculpas, de verdad te lo digo. (A thousand apologies, I truly mean it.) For everything. But I...,” hesitating for a second before continuing, “I still love you.”

You met his eyes in surprise, “You can’t say that.”

“But I have to,” he stated clearly and sincerely, the grip on your hand tightening just a bit. “I have to tell you. Because... I’m empty inside. Without you.”

“Beni,” you breathed out heavily, your eyes starting to burn again, making you divert your gaze from him.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated again. “What can I do? So you forgive me.”

“Don’t do this,” you pleaded, trying to take his hands off of you, “You can’t do-”

Next thing you know, Benito had fallen to his knees, his hands on your waist, holding onto you tightly as he lowered his head. “What do I do?” He mumbled. “Please, ne- Y/N, please. You have to tell me.”

“Beni, get up-,” you tried to pull him by his suit jacket, but he just shook his head, his forehead pressing to your stomach, making you hiss a breath in. His fingers bored themselves into your skin, salvaging every second he got touching you and keeping you as close as he used to before this had ended.

“What do I have to do?” He lifted his head to meet your eyes. “I will marry you right now.”

“Beni!” You gasped in shock. “Don’t say things you don’t mean-”

“I mean it!” He shot up from the floor again, cupping your cheeks to make you look directly at him. “Mano, te digo cada palabra de corazón... de verdad. Yo te quiero tener conmigo otra vez. Yo me quiero casar contigo. Nena, te necesito. (I mean every single word I say to you. I want to have you again. I want to marry you. I need you.)” He rambled. “I love you.”

You shook your head, taking his hands off your cheeks and passing him to create a heavy space between you two again.

“I... I don’t think I can do this. Beni... we broke up. We-”

“Do you have someone? Right now?” He suddenly asked you, throwing you out of concept and making you frown.

“W- What?”

“Are you seeing someone-”

“Beni, I haven’t been with anyone since I was with you!” You shouted in pure frustration, your emotions finally getting the best of you, taking over your body. “You’ve been dancing and kissing women on fucking stage and in public while I’m in my apartment. ALL ALONE! And now you’re throwing this at me like- m- making me feel bad about leaving-”

Your ramble was suddenly cut off when he rushed over to you, slamming into you, cupping your cheeks and smashing his lips onto yours, knocking out every last bit of air inside of you. Before you could crumble, you steadied yourself by holding onto his arms.

Your mouths moved frantically against each other, breathing heavily, taking in every passing second of the moment. A breathless gasp escaped you, pulling your face away from his with much more force than you expected, his grip on you tighter than ever before.

“Ben-”

“You listened to the album. You did, right?” He asked you, his hands still on your cheeks.

You nodded, “Yeah,” sighing out loud.

“You know it’s about you,” he admitted, his eyes big, looking into you with despair. “Y... y mi familia, but this is you too. Yo te escogí a ti para que fueras mi familia... y te fallé, nena. De verdad que lo siento en el alma. (I chose you to be my future family. And I failed you. And I'm truly sorry.)”

“B-But,” you gulped, “What do you want to do? It didn’t work out in the past... why would anything change now?” Almost scared of the answer.

“Because I will work on it. I will be better. I promise. Tell me what to do. I will do it,” Benito told you sincerely. Maybe the almost teary eyes convinced you, maybe the memories his hold had brought back. His touch reminded you of what you had been missing. The sentiment of sincerity and closeness you hadn’t been able to feel with anyone but him. His touches without any hint of sexual energy, but pure admiration and desperation.

“We’ve talked about this before...”

“No,” he shook his head immediately, “You talked. You said what you don’t like. But you didn’t let me change. But I will.” Benito dared to lean forward, placing a soft kiss to your cheek, continuing with a kiss. “I promise,” and another one to your other cheek. “Please, querida,” another one to the left corner of your lips. “Please let me try.”

A shudder of a breath left your lips before you pressed them down, thinking about your next confession. “I don’t like you dancing with all those women on stage.” You redirected your eyes away from him while his kisses continued down your body.

Down your neck and onto your collarbone. “I won’t do that. I only need to dance with you,” he whispered against your skin. You couldn’t help but close your eyes, tilting your head to give him more access to your naked shoulder. “Tú eres mi todo. Me muevo cielo y tierra por ti. (You are my everything. I’ll move heaven and earth for you.) I will do anything.”

You nodded along to each of his words, softly sighing at the feeling of his lips on you, a touch so sensual, you had almost forgotten how much you had been missing it. And now that you felt it again, you were unsure if you could ever go without it again.

Hestitanly, you nodded, admitting quietly, “Okay...”

The soft drop of your statement made Benito straighten his back again, meeting your eyes, your brows drawn together in despair.

“Yeah?” He breathed out, his hands warming your lower back.

Pressing your lips together for a second before you finally let yourself fall, you nodded. The singer couldn’t hide the soft curl to his lips, watching carefully.

You gulped before letting out a soft breath of relief. “Please kiss me again.”

“Are you sure?” Benito asked further, his palms roaming your waist. You could only nod hastily, your fingers digging into his shoulders, pulling him closer.

“Please...”

He didn’t need to be told twice, leaning down only a bit, letting you lead the speed as his lips met your again, much softer than before.

You hummed into the kiss, confirming your want and need, making him tighten his grip comfortably around you. His big palms spread on your bag, pulling you in, so you were chest to chest. Your hands travelled over his chest absentmindely finding their way underneath his suit jacket to brush over the white fabric of his button-down shirt.

Benito’s right hand left your bag to get a hold of yours on his chest, moving it to press it right onto his quickening heartbeat.

“Esto aquí late solo por ti. (This right here beats only for you.) For you only.” He confessed, tightening his grip around your hand before he pulled you in again by your neck.

You let him move you, tilting your head back with his hand right behind you to leave your lips with a desperate sigh out loud. With the space between your mouths only paper-thin, you opened your eyes to meet his, already fixed on you.

“Please touch me,” you finally admitted, “I need you.”

His eyes darkened at the tone of your voice, biting down on his lips. “How do you need me?”

With your gazes interlocked, you dropped your hands to his waistband, fiddling with the buckle of his belt. “You know how,” you whispered. Opening it swiftly, you managed to let his pants fall. He kicked off his shoes before sliding out of his trousers, leaving him in his boxers.

Benito leaned down, placing a soft kiss on your lips, “I love you, mi amor.” Not expecting something back from you just yet, before he got down on his knees again.

His palms raked down your waist and legs before coming up to stop on your hips. Benito’s mouth touched your clothed stomach, circling your midriff with kisses before daring to go lower. A kiss on your pubic bone made you let your head fall back, your hands finding his shoulder to keep you steady.

The feeling of his hands drifted lower, sliding through the slit that left one of your legs bare. He brushed over the skin of your calf before his mouth found it as well. He hid underneath the skirt of your dress, moving up to your thigh, his kisses leaving you shivering and sighing.

Slowly but surely, Benito’s palms grasped your ass, kneading it gently before releasing you and standing back up again. Without another word, his fingers found the zip on your left side, opening it to loosen the white dress. His fingers hooked underneath the fabric strap on your shoulder, letting it fall down. You shuffled your arm out of it, getting the other side off your upper body too and letting the dress drop to the floor completely. Leaving you in nothing but the lace set your stylist had chosen, since it would be hidden best underneath the thin material.

Almost like in a trance, the singer’s eyes raked you up and down, sighing, “Diablo...,” he shook his head, mumbling, “so beautiful.” His hands warming your hips, pulling you in while yours sneaked underneath his jacket again, brushing them up to his shoulders to finally get it off. You threw the suit jacket towards the couch, not caring enough if it actually landed there.

Before he could get too distracted by your body, you got a hold of his neck and tugged him down to engulf you in a kiss. Benito could feel the heat radiating off of you, adding to his confidence, gently licking your lips with his tongue, still polite enough to ask for permission. You, less patient, fought back with your own tongue, tightening your grip on his neck with both of your hands.

He hugged you tightly, starting to move you together to the side where the hotel bed was. His leg pushed between yours, making his thigh brush against your centre, giving him a moan from you in return. With a smirk on his lips, he gripped your hips, but only to press them down to his thigh.

Feeling the heat of a wet patch forming on your underwear, he turned around swiftly, sitting down on the bed and pulling you down, making sure you’d be sitting on one of his legs. You couldn’t wait, rotating your hips forward to create another brush of friction, making you shudder into his mouth.

“Mami... tú estás bien dura. (You’re so hot.)” Benito sighed, leaving it to interpretation whether he meant your looks or the heat that you were creating on his thigh. “Keep moving,” he whispered against your lips.

Heavy breathing, you kept your hips in a steady rhythm, his hands on you, helping you as you rubbed yourself against him. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, making him hiss out, but loving the feeling of you marking him - and you knew that.

Continuing to kiss him messily, tongues fighting against each other, you began to finally open the collar of his dress shirt. Impatiently, you moved onto the others, stopping your hip movement for just a moment. Benito noticed it immediately, jerking his leg up, making you gasp with a chuckle,

“Wait-”

“Quiero ver cómo te rompes. (I want to see you break.)” He huffed out, continuing the jittering of his leg, basically making you vibrate against him.

You managed to get his shirt off his shoulders, but with his grip still on you, he focused on getting you off first before even thinking about losing more clothing.

“Come on,” he whispered, his hands continuing to make your hips move against his leg. You threw your head back in ecstasy, feeling your underwear rub up against you, his naked thigh pushing up into you. The friction made you whine out loud, your nails digging further into his shoulders. One hand came back to your neck, dragging you in to capture you in another heated kiss.

“Cum on me, mami,” he breathed against your lips, his fingers tightening around the hair right at your scalp, tugging on it just enough to let another moan slip from your lips. Unable to control your movements of relief, your head dropped against his neck, your hips quickening in speed as you tried to chase the high forming inside of you.

You nodded, breathing only more heavily with each passing second, feeling him jerk his leg up to add to your enjoyment.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whined out loud, motivating him to keep going, tightening his grip on you once more to help you finish off your sliding hips. The wet feeling on his thigh made him groan, digging into your flesh with a hiss. With one last jerk up, you fell apart on him, your chest heaving right up against his, sighing out loud heavily. “Fuck...”

Benito gave a proud slap to your ass before surprising you by standing up suddenly. Turning around, he threw you onto the bed, knocking any last breath of air out of you. Finally, relieving his erection from the confinement of his boxers, he groaned out loud, looking down at you with a lick of his lips as he took your bra off before moving onto your underwear, but he stopped you.

“Let me,” he smiled softly, brushing your hands away before his fingers crawled around the lace piece of fabric, dragging it down your legs. Not wasting another second too much, he dived right in, laying his tongue flat against your clit, making your back arch against him.

“Oh, my God...” you whined out, glancing down as your fingers held onto his curls. Benito lifted his gaze, meeting your eyes and grinning like a wolf ready for his feast. “Beni, please...”

“What, nena?” He stopped in his movements, focused completely on you.

“Please, just take me,” you mumbled out, catching your breath as you raked through his hair.

And you didn’t have to tell him that twice.

Benito pushed himself up to stand immediately, coming up to hover above you, kissing you while lying down right next to you, holding himself up by his elbow. You turned your head enough to keep his lips on you as his hand found your knees, going underneath them to lift your legs with ease. With your hips aligned, you pushed back up against him.

“Put it in,” he whispered against you. Your hands travelled down to get a hold of his impressive length, the one you had definitely missed in your time apart, wrapping your hand around it, getting a hiss out of him in return.

You aligned it with your hole, moving your hips just a bit more to get into a comfortable position. His tip brushed against your entrance, making you sigh, and with one quick push by Benito, he slipped in. You had to pull back from his lips for the moment, the sudden feeling of him inside of you again, washing over you. His head fell to your shoulders, barely able to contain himself either.

“Puñeta...,” he cursed out loud, “tú estás bien apretá. (You’re so tight.) Like I remember.”

The heat of the moment took over him, immediately picking up his pace after having to wait for way too long to feel you like this again. His lips slammed against yours, the obscene sound of your wetness against him filling the room.

You threw your head back, whining out loud, “God... Beni-” trying to find a place to put your hands, deciding to hold onto the sheet underneath you. Benito’s fingers tightened into your skin, hissing as he felt your walls oh so tightly around him. With your legs up in an angle, his length grazed over the rough patch inside of you, making your eyes roll back. You desperately tried to find words to exclaim the feeling of absolute bliss rushing through your body, but it left you with only heavy breaths.

Benito mumbled incoherently in Spanish next to you, glancing down, trying to get a glimpse of his erection, now glistening, sliding in and out of you.

“Look at you, baby,” he got out with a hiss. “Qué rico se siente esto, puñeta. Estás perfecta, nena. (This feels so good. You're perfect.)”

You could only moan out loud in return, tilting your head towards him, giving him the opportunity to place a kiss on your forehead. Your hand reached out to grab his neck, keeping him as closely as you possibly could.

“I love you,” you managed to breathe out, eyebrows slightly drawn in together as you could feel another orgasm coming up.

Benito’s movements stopped for a split second, your confession throwing him off his rhythm before he caught himself again, now even more motivated to make you finish a second time.

“I love you, querida. I never stopped,” he leaned back in to finish his statement with a kiss. Using it to muffle his moan as he felt you tightening around him.

“Please cum inside me,” you pleaded out, almost whining it out in pleasure, “Please...”

He nodded immediately, “Yeah,” wanting to grant you every wish. He drew his erection out of you, only to slam it in harder, placing another kiss to your forehead to even out the force he was using with a soft gesture. A loud moan escaped your lips, crawling your nails into his neck, making him groan against your temple.

“You feel so good, mami,” he whispered over the skin slapping sounds filling your ears, adding to  the intense feeling threatening to let loose. “I’m gonna cum inside you.”

You could only nod in agreement, biting down on your lips as you suddenly felt the wave of pleasure coming up quicker than you had expected.

“Are you gonna cum?” He knibbled on your jaw.

“Yeah,” you let out a high-pitched whine.

Benito grinned, “Gonna cum for me?” To which you could only nod again, as the rush of your second orgasm rushed over you, making you shiver, moaning out loud.

The tightening of your walls around his length got a hiss out of him before you felt his hips jutter, jerking in an even rhythm as he released himself inside of you, just like he promised. His breath fell against your ear as his hand dropped your leg, his now free arm wrapping around your middle to pull you in, his cock still pulsing inside you.

Your chest heaved, trying to control your breath, letting yourself come to rest against him. Soft pecks to your shoulder brought you back to the present, as well as the shuffling behind you, before you felt fingers brush through your hair.

“I love you,” Benito whispered against your skin, making you smile tiredly. Your hand found his on your stomach, giving it a short squeeze.

“I love you too,” you replied before moving out of his grip to turn around, feeling him slip out of you, making you hiss with a chuckle.

On your other side, you came to face him again. The man you had learned to love for four long years and planned to love for infinity. The dark eyes that had brought you so much comfort over the years you had spent together, staying in your memories with the pleading gaze he held once you had left him.

His palm spread out against your back, grinning at you while your fingers had come up to brush over the beard on his jaw.

“What are we gonna do now?” You wondered quietly, not wanting to ruin the sensual moment.

Benito’s eyes never left your face. “What do you want to do?”

But you could only shrug, suddenly the unsure feeling from before overtaking you again. He noticed it immediately, cupping your cheek, “Hey, look at me.” You let him guide you to meet his gaze. “We go slow. Do whatever you want. But I need you.”

“I need you too,” you admitted, your voice almost breaking. No one besides him had ever seen you so truly vulnerable, but after the break-up, you hadn’t planned on letting him this close ever again. Only for your heart to tell you how much you truly longed for him.

Kitchen

How to clean up kitchen (particularly the sink, burnt pots and small aplliances)

How to take care of kitchen stuff so that it lives longer

10 commandments of a clutter-free kitchen

Organizing kitchen mini masterpost

5 things to do in the kitchen before you go to bed

What is soapy bowl and why it’s awesome

How to organize your fridge (also here, here and here)

Thins you should know about your fridge

Adding more storage space in a tiny kitchen

Cleaning

Lots of cleaning tutorials and tips. And some more

How to clean up pantry

How to make your house look cleaner than it really is

How to wash pillows

Cleaning the bathroom

How to clean the nastiest places (and get rid of bad smells, etc.)

Floor-to-celling guide to spring cleaning

Recaulking your bathtub

Cleaning grout

How to dispose of toxic waste

Cleaning the medicine cabinet

How to make chores more fun

You mustn’t skip these chores, but you can delay these if you’re busy

Easily forgotten things that you should clean/replace

Why you need a catch-up day

Small cleaning tasks to do in under 15 minutes (also here)

Looking for a flat/moving

First apartment checklist

Where too look during an apartment hunt (and some more tips)

Negotiate these things with your landlord

What to do first in a new place

What do clean before moving out

How not to get crazy during moving flats

How to downgrade to a smaller place

Organisation, storage

10 habits for better home organisation

How to store off-season items

10 storage ideas for small spaces (more here)

Storage secret weapons

How to organise your closet

Things to do before twice-yearly closet switchout

How to store and maintain your sweaters

Decluttering

Why it feels great

How to get rid of clutter

How to declutter (not only a flat)

What needs to be thrown away from your flat

How to let go of the things you no longer need

Things you own too many of; you can throw away these too

Decuttering the bathroom

Decluterring masterpost

Decorating

Projects for every room in your home/flat

Add style to your home

DIY decorating ideas

How to use negative space

4 common decorating mistakes and how to avoid them

Questions to ask yourself before buying something new

How to choose furniture that’ll be easier to clean

Season-specific tips

Things to do before the cold season

Household hacks for winter

Preparing for Christmas

Green thumb 101

How to take care of succulents

Never kill a plant again

Living alone / Sharing a flat

How not to be lonely when living alone

12 things you can only do when home alone

What you learn by living alone

Things you learn while sharing a flat

What to pack when leaving for a dorm

How to seamlessly share a kitchen (or a flat in general)

Safety issues to discuss with flatmates

Benefits of living with strangers

﹒⸝⸝ ⧣₊˚ AISLE FIVE

A shy cashier and a loud, beatboxing grocery bagger in Puerto Rico grow from teasing coworkers to first love, as she believes in Benito’s DJ dreams long before the world knows his name — and stands proudly by his side when he finally makes it big.

Paring. Benito Antonio Martinez Ocasio x reader

I’m actually obsessed with this man now, I’m going try to write the hell out of him until I eventually get bored him of (which is never) and hopefully I’ll focus on my other fics which I should be writing at the moment seeing as I have a free day off but whatever, I honestly hope you guys enjoy this!!

The grocery store sat on a busy corner in Puerto Rico where the afternoon sun always made the front windows glow gold. The bell above the door was loud and dramatic, ringing like someone had just entered a royal ballroom instead of a neighborhood market. The floors were slightly uneven, the fridge in aisle three hummed like it was thinking deeply about life, and the same three songs played on the radio every single shift. It wasn’t special. It wasn’t glamorous. But for you, it was where everything important quietly began.

You worked the register with careful precision. Your hair was always neatly tied back, your name tag straight, your uniform tucked in properly. You counted change twice before handing it over, even when the line was long. You apologized when customers bumped into you. You said “thank you” softly and meant it every time. You didn’t like drawing attention to yourself, and you certainly didn’t like breaking rules.

Benito, on the other hand, behaved like the grocery store was a stage that had simply not yet realized its potential

He bagged groceries like it was choreography. He stacked items in the bags with exaggerated care, narrating what he was doing under his breath like a cooking show host. He greeted customers as if they were long-lost family members. If someone bought one item, he asked about their day. If someone bought twenty items, he made commentary about their snack choices like he was reviewing them for an audience.

You would feel your stomach twist with secondhand embarrassment, whispering urgently from behind the register, “Benito, please just bag the groceries.”

“They love me,” he would respond confidently, flashing a grin that was impossible not to notice

The worst part was that sometimes they actually did.

The first time Mr. Alvarez assigned you both to restock shelves together, you immediately felt nervous. You liked tasks that were quiet and structured. You liked being left alone to organize things neatly and efficiently. Restocking aisle five should have been simple. Cans in order. Labels facing forward. Expiration dates checked. Done.

Benito treated aisle five like it was a rehearsal studio.

You were carefully arranging tomato cans by date when you heard the soft rhythm start behind you. At first it was subtle. A beat under his breath. Then a little bass sound. Then full beatboxing that echoed lightly between the shelves.

“Benito,” you whispered sharply without turning around, “please stop. Mr. Alvarez is nearby.”

“He appreciates talent,” he replied smoothly, stacking cans in rhythm with his beat.

“He appreciates silence.”

He suddenly grabbed two cereal boxes, holding one to his mouth like a microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to aisle five, where we have discounts and rhythm.”

You froze, eyes widening as a customer slowly pushed their cart past you, staring openly. Your ears burned. “Put those down,” you hissed.

He leaned closer, lowering his voice but not enough. “You’re my assistant DJ.”

“I am not.”

“Yes you are. Say something cool.”

“I’m organizing inventory.”

He looked at you like you had personally disappointed him. “That is not cool.”

You were 90 percent sure you were going to lose your job because this boy did not understand volume control. When he suddenly reached toward your arm and pretended to scan it like a barcode, whispering “beep,” you lightly smacked his shoulder, trying not to smile even though you absolutely wanted to.

The thing was, he always stopped the second he sensed you were genuinely uncomfortable. When Mr. Alvarez actually appeared at the end of the aisle with that serious look, Benito instantly straightened his posture and began stacking cans perfectly, face completely innocent. If there was an award for dramatic personality switches, he would have won.

“See?” he whispered after the manager walked away. “Professional.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you murmured, though your lips betrayed you by curving slightly.

But when a customer once made a rude comment about how slow you were scanning items, Benito stepped forward without theatrics and calmly handled the situation, redirecting the mood and making the customer laugh instead. When you struggled lifting a heavy box of bottled water, he took it from you gently without making it a spectacle. He was loud and spontaneous, yes, but he noticed everything. Especially you.

Your breaks always overlapped, even though neither of you admitted it was intentional. Behind the store there was a small patch of shade from a tired-looking tree, and you both sat on the curb like it was reserved seating. Benito always brought two sodas without asking. Cola for you. Orange for him. He would pop the can open dramatically, then pass yours to you like it was an offering.

“You’re too quiet,” he told you once, leaning back on his hands and squinting at the sky

“I talk,” you said softly.

“You blink.”

You looked at him in disbelief. He grinned like that was the funniest thing he had ever said.

Then he would start talking about music. Always music. His hands moved when he spoke, describing beats in the air, explaining rhythms like they were living creatures. He talked about performing one day, about crowds shouting lyrics back to him, about not wanting to bag groceries forever.

You listened more than you spoke. Sometimes you didn’t fully understand the ambition in his voice, but you understood the sincerity. He wasn’t joking when he talked about it. Not really.

“One day people are going to scream my name,” he said once, completely serious. You took a slow sip of your soda and thought about it. “Okay.”

“That’s it? Okay?”

“I mean… that sounds loud.”

He stared at you like you were impossible. “You don’t get it.”

“I just don’t know why you want strangers yelling.”

“Because it means you made it.”

You studied his face then. The way his confidence wasn’t arrogance. It was hope. And without fully realizing it, you said quietly, “I think you could.”

He went quiet for once. He bumped his shoulder lightly against yours and didn’t joke about it.

The store was busy that afternoon. The scanner beeped repeatedly as you moved items across it in steady rhythm. You were focused, counting coins carefully while a customer took forever to decide between bills. You didn’t even notice Benito return from his break until you felt his presence leaning casually against your counter.

“Why are you standing there?” you asked under your breath.

“Working,” he replied confidently.

“You’re leaning.”

“That’s part of the job.” You shook your head but didn’t look at him. He watched you for a moment, unusually quiet. “I got invited somewhere tonight,” he said finally.

“Mm-hmm,” you responded, scanning a carton of milk.

“I’m DJing.”

That made you pause. You slowly turned your head. “Since when do you DJ, Benny?”

He looked almost offended. “Since always.”

“You don’t own equipment.”

“I borrowed some.”

“From who?”

“A guy.”

“That sounds concerning.”

He rolled his eyes but you could see the hint of nerves behind the bravado. “It’s a small gathering. Nothing big.” You studied him for a second longer than necessary. He suddenly looked less loud and more hopeful.

“Come with me,” he added, softer.

Your heart skipped unexpectedly. “Why?”

“Because I don’t want to look stupid alone.”

You smiled despite yourself. “You won’t look stupid.”

“You don’t know that.”

You hesitated only a moment. “Okay. I’ll come.” The smile he tried to suppress failed completely.

It really was just someone’s backyard. The grass was uneven, a little dry in patches, and the plastic chairs were the kind that made a squeaky sound every time someone shifted their weight. String lights were hanging from one side of the fence to the other, slightly crooked, blinking lazily like they were trying their best. Someone’s aunt was inside yelling for people to stop going in and out of the kitchen. The speakers weren’t top quality. The table Benito was using as a DJ booth was clearly borrowed from someone’s dining room.

It wasn’t glamorous.

But when Benito stepped behind that little folding table and put the headphones over his curls, something changed.

You had spent months watching him joke around in the grocery store, beatboxing between cereal aisles, pretending cans were microphones and turning restocking into a concert rehearsal. You were used to the loud, playful version of him — the one who teased you until your ears turned red and made customers laugh even when you were trying to keep everything calm.

This was different.

He adjusted the controls with steady hands. He leaned forward slightly, listening carefully to the transitions. His shoulders relaxed in a way you had never seen at work. There was no performance for attention. No exaggerated jokes. No teasing commentary. Just focus. Just music.

When the first smooth transition hit and the small crowd reacted with surprised cheers, your heart jumped.

He did that.

You stood near the fence, fingers loosely laced together in front of you, trying not to look too obvious about how proud you felt. You weren’t loud like the others. You didn’t scream or jump. You just watched him carefully, memorizing the way he moved his head to the rhythm, the way he bit his lip slightly when concentrating.

Then he looked up.

His eyes searched the backyard quickly — scanning faces — and when they found you standing there quietly watching him like he mattered more than the music, his entire expression softened.

Not the big dramatic grin he used at work

A small one.

Private.

For you.

And after that, he played even better. More confident. Smoother transitions. Bolder song choices. Like he needed you there. Like you were proof that he wasn’t crazy for dreaming. When the party slowly started winding down and people began gathering their things, he packed up the borrowed equipment carefully, still riding the leftover adrenaline. You waited a little distance away, rocking slightly on your heels, pretending not to stare at him.

When he finally walked over, his hair slightly messy from the headphones and his cheeks still warm from excitement, he looked almost shy.

“Ready?” he asked casually, like he hadn’t just performed for everyone.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

The walk home was warm and slow. The streets of Puerto Rico at night had their own rhythm — distant music from other houses, a dog barking somewhere far off, the soft hum of passing cars. The air felt heavy but comforting, like it was wrapping around both of you.

For the first few steps, neither of you said much.

He kept glancing at you, You pretended not to notice. Finally he cleared his throat. “So?”

You looked up at him, confused. “So what?”

“What did you think?” He tried to sound relaxed, but there was something nervous under it. He kicked lightly at a loose pebble on the sidewalk. You didn’t answer immediately. You were thinking carefully, because you didn’t want it to sound like you were just being nice.

“You didn’t look scared,” you said softly.

He blinked. “That’s your review?”

“You didn’t look like you were pretending,” you continued. “You looked… like you belonged there.” He slowed his steps a little. “Really?” he asked, and this time the confidence wasn’t loud. It was hopeful.

“Yes,” you said simply. “You were really good.”

He let out a small breath like he had been holding it all night. “I messed up one transition.”

“No one noticed.”

“I noticed.”

“You always notice everything,” you said gently. He looked at you sideways. “You were watching that closely?” You immediately felt shy. “I was just standing there.”

“Mm-hmm,” he teased lightly. “Just standing there staring at me.”

“I was not staring.”

“You were.”

“I was observing.”

He laughed softly, the sound warm in the quiet street. “Observing, huh?” You tried to look serious. “Yes.” There was a small comfortable silence after that. The kind that doesn’t feel awkward.

“You really think I could do that for real?” he asked suddenly.

You looked at him again. Not at the loud grocery store boy. Not at the clown in aisle five. But at the version of him you saw tonight — steady, focused, happy.

“Yes,” you said without hesitation.

He didn’t joke about it this time. He didn’t brush it off. He just looked forward, absorbing your answer like it meant more than all the cheers from the party.

As you reached your street, the lights from your house glowing softly at the end of it, your hands brushed accidentally when you both slowed down at the same time. Neither of you moved away, Your fingers barely touched. Just the sides. Warm. Careful. He looked down at your hand for a second, then back at you. “You came,” he said quietly.

“Of course I did.”

“Even though you thought I was borrowing illegal equipment.

You smiled. “I still think that.”

He grinned, stepping a little closer as you reached your gate. “Thanks for coming.”

“Thanks for asking.” There was a pause there. A soft one. The kind where something could happen, but doesn’t have to yet.

“You’re gonna get famous one day,” you said gently.

He tilted his head. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He looked at you like he wanted to say something bigger. Something braver. But instead he just smiled in that shy, softer way that only showed up when he wasn’t performing for anyone else.

“Goodnight,” he said.

“Goodnight, Benny.” You said softly and looked him in the eyes deeply, slowly you leaned in and pecked him on the lips delicately before smiling and chuckling, you covered you’re pink lips and quickly went to you’re house as the young boy stood there in shock.

As you walked inside and glanced back once, he was still standing there for a second longer than necessary, hands in his pockets, smiling to himself under the Puerto Rican night sky.

As the years passed after that first backyard party, life didn’t explode overnight. It grew. Slowly. Steadily. Like something being built brick by brick.

You moved from grocery store shifts to studio visits. From curbside sodas to late-night car rides while he played you rough demos through cheap speakers. You were there when he recorded in tiny rooms with foam panels taped to walls. You were there when his voice cracked from trying to perfect a hook. You were there when he doubted himself, when a song didn’t hit, when money was tight, when he questioned if he was chasing something too big.

But you never doubted him.

And he never stopped looking at you first after finishing a new song.

By 2018, everything was different. His name was bigger. His shows were louder. His schedule was full. But when he proposed to you at twenty-four, it didn’t feel rushed or crazy or young.

It felt right.

He didn’t do it in some over-the-top dramatic way. It was private. Emotional. Just the two of you somewhere quiet in Puerto Rico, the sun setting in soft orange behind him as his hands shook slightly while holding the ring.

“You’ve been with me since nothing,” he told you, voice unsteady. “Before anyone cared.”

You cried immediately.

“I don’t want any of this without you.”

You said yes before he even finished.

You married young. But it didn’t feel young. It felt like choosing your best friend. And for a while, it was beautiful. He cherished you. Publicly and privately. When he mentioned love in songs, when he talked about loyalty, when he hinted at devotion — it was about you. You knew it. His team knew it. His friends knew it.

But there were parts you struggled with, Sometimes he’d play you a demo in the car, looking at you expectantly.

“What do you think?” he’d ask, bouncing slightly in his seat.

And you would hesitate.

Some songs were raw. Sexual. Detailed in ways that made you uncomfortable. You understood artistry. You understood image. But sometimes it felt too exposed. Too graphic. Too much of something that felt private to you.

“You don’t like it,” he’d notice immediately, his smile dropping.

“It’s good,” you’d say carefully.

“But?”

You’d sigh softly. “It’s just… a bit much.”

“A bit much how?”

“It sounds…” You struggled for the word. “Repulsive.”

He would sit back, slightly defensive. “It’s real. It’s honest.”

“I know. I just don’t want to hear you describing that to millions of people.”

“It’s music.”

“It’s still you.”

Those conversations started gently.

But as fame grew, so did tension.

He began feeding off the attention. The screaming fans. The women throwing themselves forward at concerts. He didn’t cheat. But he liked being admired. You could see it. The way he’d hold eye contact a second too long. The way he’d smirk at the front row.

One night, after a massive show in LA, you snapped.

Back at home, still in your heels, adrenaline mixed with hurt, you turned to him sharply. “You just fucking eye fucked someone else at the concert!”

He looked stunned. “What?”

“You know exactly what!”

“I was looking into the crowd.”

“You were locked onto her.”

“There were thousands of women!”

“Oh fuck off,” you shot back, your voice sharp in a way it never used to be.

Silence filled the room.

He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “You’re overthinking.” Shocked by your reaction and the sudden swearing, sure you made it clear before you didn’t enjoy his lingering eyes and touches with others but today you seemed to be off like a fire.

“And you’re careless.”

He hated that word.

Careless.

The truth was, he didn’t see it the way you did. To him, it was performance energy. To you, it felt intimate. Personal. Disrespectful.

And slowly, without either of you realizing at first, you began to change.

You stopped laughing as easily. You stopped reaching for him automatically. Your softness retreated inward. You became quieter, but not in the warm shy way from the grocery store.

This was colder.

You answered shorter. You touched less. You smiled less in private, And he noticed, One night he watched you sitting at the kitchen island scrolling silently on your phone, and something twisted in his chest.

You used to lean against him while he talked.

You used to bump his shoulder playfully.

Now you felt… distant.

He knew why.

He knew it was him.

He loved you because you were kind. Open. Gentle. Bright. You grounded him. You were his calm. And now that calm felt frozen over.

That’s when he made a decision.

“We’re going home,” he said one day.

“What?”

“Puerto Rico. For a while. No America. No big shows. Just home.”

And you didn’t argue.

Back in Puerto Rico, things slowed.

Family dinners. Cousins dropping by unannounced. Familiar streets. Familiar air. Spanish flowing without translation. No paparazzi outside the gate. No screaming crowds. Just warmth.

You visited your family. You visited his. You walked through old neighborhoods. You drove past the grocery store one afternoon and both of you went quiet at the same time.

“I used to beatbox in there,” he said softly.

“You were so annoying.”

“You loved it.”

You didn’t deny it.

The beach day was what broke you.

He insisted on packing everything himself. Two big bags over one arm. A cooler tucked against his hip. A large towel thrown over his shoulder. He refused help even though you offered.

“I got it,” he said.

You walked behind him on the sand, watching the way he adjusted the bags carefully so nothing would fall. Watching him spread the large towel out gently, smoothing it flat with concentration like it was the most important task in the world.

The sun hit his curls. His expression was soft. Peaceful. Not performing. Not posturing. Just him.

The old Benito.

The one from aisle five.

The one who used to bring you soda without asking.

Your chest tightened unexpectedly, You didn’t even realize you were crying until your vision blurred. He turned around mid-motion and froze.

“Mi amor?” His voice dropped instantly.

He let the bags fall into the sand without caring and rushed toward you.

“Hey. Hey.” His hands came to your face gently. “What happened?”

You shook your head, tears falling faster now, and stepped into him, burying your face in his neck, gripping his shirt tightly. “I missed you,” you mumbled against his skin, voice breaking. “I missed you so much.”

His entire body went still.

He understood.

He wrapped both arms around you firmly, holding you like he used to after small grocery shifts when the world felt simple.

“I’m right here,” he whispered, voice thick. “I’m right here.” His own eyes burned. He pressed his lips together to keep them steady and held you tighter.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured into your hair. “I never meant to lose us.”

You cried harder at that.

Not because he cheated.

Not because he didn’t love you, But because fame had stretched something between you and you both finally felt it, On that beach, with the ocean loud and the sand warm under your feet, you held each other without ego. Without audience. Without performance.

Just two people who started in a grocery store.

summary: y/n and benito spend the morning together whenever they can.

bad bunny x reader