Wait sistaaa you writing bad bunny?! 😝
Jealous!Benito story idea: reader is backstage at one of his concerts and one of the dancers comes up needing help fixing his outfit. She helps a bit, but Benito sees it and we knowww he don’t play that 🌚
18+ , mdni - jealous!bf!benito x black!fem!reader
The roar of the crowd still echoed through the walls backstage, even after Benito had wrapped up his set. Sweat glistened on his skin under the dim lights, his white tank top clinging to his chest as he made his way through the chaos of crew members and dancers cooling down. You were there, leaning against a makeup table, scrolling through your phone while waiting for him to finish up. Being his girl meant these nights were routine—loud, electric, and always ending with you two stealing a quiet moment amid the frenzy.
One of the dancers, Marco, jogged over, his breath heavy from the performance. He was shirtless, his outfit—a pair of tight black pants with intricate straps—looking a little off. One of the buckles had come loose during the choreography, and he fiddled with it, cursing under his breath in Spanish.
"Oye, chica," he said, glancing at you with a quick smile. "You got a second? This thing's killing me."
You looked up, setting your phone down. Marco was harmless, just focused on getting back to form for the next show. "Yeah, sure. What happened?"
He turned, pointing to the side where the strap dangled. "It popped open mid-spin. Can't get it tight enough without help."
You stepped closer, your fingers brushing the leather as you tugged it into place. It was nothing—just a quick fix, your hands steady from years of helping with wardrobe malfunctions at events like this. Marco chuckled. 'Gracias, you're a lifesaver. Benito's lucky to have you around.'
From across the room, Benito's eyes locked on the scene. He paused mid-conversation with his manager, his jaw tightening. You were bent slightly, your curls falling over your shoulder as you worked the buckle, your brown skin was shiny from the body oil you applied hours before and Marco's hand grazed your arm in thanks. It was innocent, but to Benito? Nah. He didn't play that shit. Not with his girl.
He crossed the space in a few long strides, his presence cutting through the chatter like a knife. "¿Qué pasa aquí?" he asked, voice low but edged with that possessive heat you knew too well. (what's happening here ?)
You straightened up, wiping your hands on your jeans. "Just helping Marco with his—"
Marco backed off immediately, hands up. "All good, boss. She fixed it. I'm out." He shot you a nod and vanished into the crowd.
Benito's gaze didn't leave you. He stepped closer, crowding your space, his cologne mixing with the faint scent of his sweat. "You don't need to be touching nobody else, mami. Not like that."
You raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at your lips. "It was a buckle, Benito. Chill."
But he wasn't chilling. His hand slid to your waist, fingers digging in just enough to pull you against him. "Chill? I see some dude getting too close to what's mine. You know how that looks." His voice dropped, breath hot against your ear. "Ven conmigo. Now." (come with me-)
Before you could protest, he was steering you toward the dressing room, the door clicking shut behind you. The room was small—mirrors on one wall, a couch shoved in the corner, his tour jacket tossed over a chair. The bass from the after-party thumped faintly through the walls, but in here, it was just you two.
He backed you against the door, his body pressing flush. "You think I like seeing that?" he murmured, lips brushing your neck. "Mi princessa hermosa, helping another man when you should be all over me." (my beautiful princess-)
Your pulse quickened, heat pooling low in your belly. His jealousy was a fire you loved stoking sometimes—it always led to this, raw and urgent. "You're ridiculous," you breathed, but your hands were already sliding up his arms, feeling the flex of muscle.
"Ridiculous?" He nipped at your jaw, then captured your mouth in a kiss that was all teeth and tongue, demanding. His hands roamed, one cupping your ass, the other tangling in your curls to tilt your head back. "Te voy a mostrar who's ridiculous." (I'm gonna show you-)
He spun you around, pressing your front to the door, his hips grinding against your ass. You could feel him hardening through his pants, thick and insistent. "These jeans," he growled, popping the button open with ease. "Off. Now."
You complied, shimmying them down your thighs, kicking them aside. His fingers hooked into your panties next, yanking them down roughly. Cool air hit your skin, but his body heat chased it away as he dropped to his knees behind you.
"Benito—" Your words cut off in a gasp as his hands spread your cheeks, his tongue diving in without warning. He licked a slow, firm stripe up your pussy, tasting you like he was starved. "Fuuuck," you moaned, palms flat against the wood.
He hummed against you, the vibration sending sparks up your spine. His mouth worked you over—sucking on your clit, tongue thrusting inside, lapping at your wetness like it was the best thing he'd tasted all night. "This is mine," he said between licks, voice muffled. "Solo mía." (only mine)
Your legs trembled, knees buckling as pleasure built fast. He knew exactly how to unravel you, alternating between soft flicks and hard sucks until you were grinding back against his face. "Benito, please…"
He stood abruptly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. You heard the zipper of his pants, then the rustle of fabric. His cock sprang free, hot and heavy as he notched it at your entrance. "You want it? Beg for it, baby."
You arched your back, pushing against him. "Fuck me. Make me yours."
With a grunt, he thrust in, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth motion. You cried out, the stretch burning sweet as he filled you completely. He didn't give you time to adjust—his hips snapped forward, pounding into you with jealous rhythm, each slap of skin echoing in the room.
"That's it," he panted, one hand gripping your hip, the other reaching around to rub your clit. "Take this dick. Feel how much I need you." His thrusts were deep, relentless, hitting that spot inside that made stars burst behind your eyes.
You braced against the door, moans spilling free as he fucked you harder. Sweat slicked your skin, your breasts bouncing with every drive. "Benito… oh god, yes."
He leaned over you, chest to your back, lips at your ear. "Dime que eres mía." (tell me that you're mine)
"I'm yours," you gasped, clenching around him. "All yours."
His pace faltered for a second, a low groan escaping as he chased his release. "Good girl. Cum for me, mami. Let me feel it."
The pressure snapped, your orgasm crashing over you in waves. You shuddered, walls pulsing around his cock, milking him as you came with a broken cry. He followed seconds later, thrusting deep one last time, spilling hot inside you with a curse in Spanish—"Joder, sí."
He stayed buried for a moment, both of you breathing ragged, his arms wrapping around your waist to hold you up. Then he pulled out slowly, turning you to face him. His eyes softened, thumb brushing your cheek. "No more helping dancers, yeah?"
You laughed breathlessly, pulling him down for a kiss. "Only if you say please."
He smirked, that possessive glint still there. "Deal. But next time, it's my outfit you fix."
ellievsbear
discoholicmusic
kianamaiart
theartofmadeline
