Shoutout to some random eboy on TikTok for making a dumb video that made me think of Jack and gave me this idea. Furthermore, to @girlcarryingthegalaxyinabag for encouraging me to write it, and to @angelzacharyy for helping me through it. I love you both, and hope you’ll enjoy what you helped create! <3 The ending wasn’t originally intended, but I may have gotten a bit worked up last night, and cried my way through it sooooo :’)
Word Count: 2490
Warnings: Mentions of blood, kinda softcore rough smut if that makes sense, lil bit of angst and insecurity, tattooing, Jack is a bit of a playful jerk sometimes
Two months later, and you still weren’t entirely used to it.
Not in a bad way. In the way that a good thing sometimes stays surprising, like light coming through a window at an angle that catches you off guard even in a room you know well. Isabeau being yours — being hers — hadn’t become ordinary. You hoped it wouldn’t.
She had a key to your apartment now, which had happened without ceremony. She’d been over enough that giving her a key was logistically obvious, and she’d taken it with the same matter-of-fact ease she brought to things she’d already decided were right.
You were lying on your couch on a Sunday afternoon, her legs across your lap, her head at the other end with a book open against her knees. You had a hand resting on her ankle without thinking about it. The TV was on low — some nature documentary she’d put on and then immediately started ignoring in favor of her book, which was very her.
She turned a page.
You traced a slow circle on her ankle with your thumb.
She didn’t look up, but the corner of her mouth moved.
“Stop that,” she said mildly.
“Stop what?”
“Being distracting.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“You’re always doing something.” She lowered her book enough to look at you over it, eyes soft. “You’re very distracting just by existing, if you want to know.”
Something warm moved through your chest. “Is that a complaint?”
“Absolutely not.” She went back to her book, but the smile stayed. “Just a data point.”
You laughed quietly and turned back to the documentary. Some kind of bird. Impressive wingspan. You weren’t really watching it.
“Isa.”
“Hmm.”
“Come here.”
She looked up again, reading your expression, and then she closed her book and rearranged herself, shifting up the couch until she was beside you rather than across from you, and you put your arm around her and she settled into your side with a small exhale — the kind that meant yes, this, exactly this.
Her hand found your chest. Just rested there, warm and unhurried.
“Better,” she murmured.
“Better,” you agreed.
Outside, the afternoon was doing that golden late-day thing where the light turns gentle and everything feels like it has a little extra time. Isabeau tipped her head up and pressed a slow kiss to your jaw, the side of it, just because she felt like it. You turned and caught her properly, and for a while the nature documentary narrated to an empty audience.
When she finally pulled back, her hair was slightly disordered and her eyes were darker than usual and she looked at you with that expression — the one you’d decided early on was your favorite thing you’d ever been looked at with.
“Hi,” she said softly.
“You keep saying that,” you murmured.
“It keeps being true.” She settled back against your shoulder. “Hi means I see you. I keep seeing you.”
You pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
“I see you too,” you said into her hair.
She made a small, contented sound and stayed very still, like she was keeping something.
Outside, the light went gold and then amber, and neither of you moved for a long time.
The living room is quiet, the only sound being the waxy scrape of crayons against paper. You and Kylo are spread out on the rug, both of you deep in a serious coloring session. Kylo has his little tongue poking out the corner of his mouth, working hard to stay inside the lines of a big red dragon.
Suddenly, a heavy, rhythmic thud echoes against the front door. You don’t even have to look through the peephole you know that specific knock anywhere.
You stand up, smoothing down your t shirt and checking your hair in the hallway mirror real quick before opening the door. There stands Roman, looking way too smug. He’s leaning against the door with McDonald’s bag in one hand and that childish, "I know you missed me" grin on his face.
"You lookin good ma," he says, his voice deep and smooth "Thought I’d slide through, make sure you and the lil' man wasn't starving."
"I literally just cooked, Roman," you tell him, stepping back to let him in anyway.
He brushs past you and drops the bag on the table like he owns the place. "Yo, Kylo! Come eat something!"
Kylo’s eyes light up. Even though you already made a whole meal, you can’t say no to that cute little face. You let him dig into the fries while Roman settles himself onto the couch,
You sit down next to him and he leans back, throwing an arm over the top of the sofa, his eyes scanning you with that playful, possessive look. "So... I seen that post" he starts, his voice dropping an octave. "Who you tryin' to impress......Where you even go?"
You feel a smirk tugging at your lips. You lean in a little closer, catching the scent of his cologne. "Don't worry about it, Roman. I was just out with the girls."
"Out with the girls?" He lets out a chuckle, shaking his head. "Nah, don't give me that.You lookin' for a replacement?"
"Maybe I am," you tease, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
"Stop playin' with me," he murmurs, his hand sliding from your waist to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair. "You know ain't nobody checkin' for you like I am. You out here lookin' like a whole meal on the 'gram, thinkin' you're doin' something... but you're mine. You know that, right?"
"Roman, stop," you say, but your voice is soft, lacking any real bite. You’re leaning into his touch even as you try to act annoyed.
He chuckles"You say 'stop' but you movin' closer, Ma. Don't lie to yourself." He starts leaving slow, lingering kisses along your jawline, making it impossible for you to keep up the "annoyed" act.
Roman pulls back just an inch, his eyes dark as he looks over at Kylo, who is still happily distracted by his chicken nuggets and the red dragon on the floor.
"Yo, Kylo," Roman says "Take your food and go head to your room for a minute, lil' man."
Kylo looks up, sauce on his chin, but he doesn't argue he’s just happy to have the McDonald's and his own space. He grabs his bag and his crayons, scurrying off toward his bedroom.
As soon as the door clicks shut, the atmosphere in the room shifts completely. The "playful" Roman is gone, replaced by the version of him that always knows exactly how to get to you. He turns back to you, pulling you flush against his chest so there’s no space left between you.
Roman's hands roam your curves possessively as he pins you against him, one hand sliding down to grip your ass. He squeezes the soft flesh, pulling your hips tighter against his own. You can feel the hard bulge of his cock pressing insistently against your stomach through the thin fabric of his pants
"Stop frontin'," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "You know you're mine. This pretty pussy belongs to me." His other hand slides under the hem of your shirt, fingers splaying across the small of your back. He traces the curve of your spine, feeling the goosebumps rise on your skin at his touch.
Roman starts kissing down your neck, his lips and teeth grazing your pulse point. He sucks hard, marking you, claiming you. His hands slip under your thighs, lifting you up. Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his waist, locking your ankles at the small of his back. He carries you to the room, never breaking the seal of his mouth on your skin.
He lays you down gently, covering your body with his own. He settles between your thighs, the thick ridge of his erection nestling against your clothed sex. Roman grinds slow and steady, the friction building pressure low in your belly. His hands slip under your shirt, pushing the fabric up and over your head. He tosses it carelessly to the side, leaving you bare from the waist up.
His hands skim up your sides, cupping the soft swells of your breasts. He thumbs your nipples, rolling the hardened peaks between his fingers until they ache for his mouth.
He dips his head down, taking one between his lips. He suckles hard, his tongue flicking the sensitive bud. His other hand slides down your stomach, popping the button on your jeans. He slips his hand inside, fingers delving into your panties. He groans against your breast when he feels the slick heat of your pussy, already wet and ready for him.
Roman strokes your clit slowly, teasingly, circling the sensitive nub. His fingers slip lowerHis fingers slip lower, parting your slick folds. He feels your wetness, your readiness. A low growl rumbles in his chest as he realizes how much you want him. "Shit, baby... you're fucking soaked," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. "Didn't I tell you this pussy was mine?" He slides a finger inside you, then another, pumping slowly, feeling your walls clench around the intrusion. His thumb rubs firm circles on your clit as he finger-fucks you
------------
30 minutes later
_______________
Roman's hips push forward, the thick head of his cock kissing your entrance. He's so hard, so big, He notches the broad tip in, your pussy stretching around his girth as he starts to push forward. Inch by inch, he sinks into your tight hole, your walls clenching and fluttering around his invading length.
"Aww fuck," he groans, his voice strained with effort and pleasure. "You're so fucking tight, baby. Shit, you can take it." He keeps pushing, the heavy weight of his cock splitting you open, filling you up. You feel every throbbing vein, every ridge, as he hilts himself deep inside you. Your legs tremble and wrap around his waist instinctively, your ankles locking at the small of his back.
You let out a low moan, your back arching off the bed as he bottoms out. He's so deep, so big, that you can feel him in your throat. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, nails raking down his back as you try to adjust to his size. Roman just grunts, his hips rolling into yours, stirring his cock inside your clenching pussy.
"Don't run baby" he murmurs, his voice ragged. He starts to move, pulling out slowly until just the tip remains inside you. Then he slams forward, burying himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust. He sets a hard, deep rhythm, pounding into your G-spot with every snap of his hips.
"That's it, baby," he murmurs, his voice a low, intimate rumble. "You feel that? Feel how deep I am inside this pussy?" His hand slides up your side, cupping your breast possessively. He squeezes gently, marveling at the soft weight of you in his palm.
Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair as you hold him close. You can feel every inch of his hard, muscular body pressed against your softer curves, the heat of his skin seeping into yours. It's overwhelming in the best possible way, and you find yourself melting into his touch, into his love.
"Don't run from it," he whispers, his hips rolling in a slow, sensual grind against yours. "Let it happen, baby."
__________
9:30 pm
_____________
Roman pulls the comforter up over you, tucking you in.
He disappears for a second, and you hear the kitchen sink running. When he comes back, he’s carrying a cold glass of water. He sets it on your nightstand with a quiet clink.
"Drink that, Ma. Don't want you wakin' up with no headache," he says, his voice back to that low, raspy mumble.
He leans down, his hand resting on the mattress next to your head as he plants a slow, lingering kiss on your forehead. For a split second, his "i don't care" attitude is gone, and he just looks at you with something that feels a lot like real love.
"I'm out," he whispers, straightening up and grabbing his hoodie. "Lock the door behind me. I'll hit you up tomorrow to check on Kylo. And you."
___________________________________________
A/n: Don't be afraid to interact i would love to read your guys comments and asks!!!!
౿ ݁synopsis Ꮺ
alysa is trying to balance skating and college life, and a new girl steps into her life and turns it all upside-down. this "new girl" also happens to be the newest addition to the pop girlies, y/n l/n.
﹒ . tags + warnings ! ◞౿
alysa liu x fem!reader, original characters!!, smau, partially written, crack (basically), angst, fluff, kms/kys/die jokes, cussing/swearing, some suggestive content, author is an idiot, music pop girl!reader, reader attends ucla (herb alpert school of music), yearning?, typos are not accidental except for in written chapters, timestamps are semi-important, mentions/usage of alcohol and substances
. ⌢⌢ featuring.. ⸝⸝
you gotta go and i cant.. eh sorry
girl.. don't get comfortable
more to be added
this is purely for entertainment purposes and does not reflect the true actions or personalities of athletes, artists, and the reader!!
alyssa liu xfem snowboarder! reader whos like known for their nonchalant attitude, and they like meet alyssa, and their all like shy and awkward ?
Powder & Ice – The Awkward Spark
You were the definition of laid-back the snowboarder who dropped 1080s like they were nothing, answered press questions in shrugs and half-smiles, never fazed by crowds or cameras. Nonchalant was your brand. People expected chill from you. You delivered.
But then you saw Alysa Liu up close.
She wandered into the athletes’ crossover lounge on the last night of the Village gold medal (two, actually) hidden under a baggy hoodie, hair in those signature messy buns, looking effortlessly happy like the Olympics were just another fun day. You’d watched her free skate from afar (everyone had), mesmerized by how she floated through quads with zero visible stress. Peak happiness, she’d called it in interviews. Now she was here, grabbing a drink, scanning the room with that easy smile.
And your brain short-circuited.
She spotted you leaning against the wall hood up, phone in hand, trying to look occupied. Her eyes lit up in recognition. “Hey! You’re the snowboarder, right? The one who landed that crazy backside in the finals? That was insane.”
You opened your mouth. Nothing intelligent came out. “…Uh. Yeah. Thanks.” Heat rushed to your face. Great. Real smooth.
Alysa tilted her head, grin widening. “You okay? You look like I just asked you to do a press conference naked.”
You laughed too loud, too nervous. “No, no—I’m good. Just… congrats on the golds. Like, seriously. You were unreal out there.” Your voice cracked on “unreal.” Kill me now.
She shrugged, casual as ever. “Thanks! It felt good. No pressure, just vibes.” She stepped closer, leaning against the wall beside you. Close enough you caught a whiff of her vanilla-ish shampoo. Your heart hammered like you’d just bombed a run. “You watched? That’s cool. Most people are too busy with their own events.”
“Yeah, I… snuck a stream between my own stuff.” You rubbed the back of your neck, avoiding eye contact. Why were your hands suddenly sweaty? “Your celebration face after the last jump? Iconic. I mean—not that I was staring or anything. Just… noticed.”
She laughed bright, genuine. “Noticed, huh? Cute.” She nudged your arm lightly. “You’re usually so chill in clips. What’s got you all fidgety?”
You froze. Busted. “I’m not fidgety,” you lied, even as your foot tapped against the floor. “Just… tired? Long week. Slopes are easier than small talk.”
“Uh-huh.” Alysa’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Come on, let’s get out of here. Too many people staring at the gold medal girl anyway.” She jerked her thumb toward the door. “Fresh air? Unless you’re gonna bolt.”
You followed her like a puppy nervous, awkward puppy out to the snowy path. Snow crunched under your boots. Village lights glowed soft. She plopped on a bench, patted the spot next to her. You sat careful not to get too close, then too far, then readjusted like an idiot.
“So…” she started, turning to you. “Why the nerves? I’m just a skater .
You exhaled, breath fogging. “You’re… you. Olympic champ. Calm under lights. I wipe out on a rail and shrug it off, but talking to you? Feels like dropping in on a 22-foot pipe with no board.” You winced. “That sounded dumb.”
Alysa’s smile softened—no teasing now, just warm. “Not dumb. Sweet, actually.” She bumped your shoulder gently. “I get it. Off-ice I’m not always the chill one people think. But with you? It’s kinda fun watching Mrs Nonchalant turn into a blushing mess.”
Your face burned hotter. “Great. Thanks for the reminder.”
She giggled. “Hey, I like it. Makes you real.” Pause. Snow fell quietly. She looked at you really looked. “Can I ask something?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I…?” She leaned in slow, giving you every out. Her eyes flicked to your lips.
Your brain blanked. Heart in your throat. You managed a tiny nod.
She closed the gap soft, careful kiss. Like testing fresh powder. You melted into it, hand finding her sleeve on instinct. She tasted like hot chocolate and victory. When she pulled back, you were both breathing harder.
“See?” she whispered, forehead against yours. “Not so scary.”
You laughed shaky, relieved. “Speak for yourself. I’m still recovering.”
She grinned, lacing her fingers with yours. “Good thing we’ve got all night. And maybe tomorrow. If you’re not too nervous to hang with a gold medalist.”
You squeezed her hand. “I’ll manage. Probably.
The rest of the night blurred into shy smiles, quiet laughs, more stolen kisses in the snow. Your cool exterior? Cracked wide open. And for once you didn’t mind.
| alysaxliu Happy Birthday to my lovely, amazing, sweet, wonderful, incredible, and beautiful girlfriend💋💋
| liked by yourusername, monroecannon,meganskiendiel and others
bennydrama7: ohmgeee, happy birthday y/n!!🫶
⤷yourusername: thanks benny!! Love ya
meretmanon: my baby’s birthday was today, glad i could celebrate with you guys!!🥹❤️
⤷alysaxliu: glad you could come😁😁
finnwolfhardofficial: Happy birthday.
⤷ yourusername: Thanks finn!
niasioux: Happy birthday you lovely lady!!🫶🏽
⤷yourusername: thank youu
User11: can’t believe Alysa and y/n are together… wouldn’t ever think they would be together…
| yourusername has posted on her story
meretmanon liked the story
sombr liked the story
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and others..
~ ayee I hope this one is as good as the other one and if you guys have an ideas, tips, or advice. For someone reason I can’t put the ask me anything in my bio so you guys might have to comment things in the comment for now on…
| liked by niasioux, bennydrama7, maria.themarias, and others
amberglenniceskater: lookin like a million bucks 😌🤩
⤷ alysaxliu: I know right..
yourusername: I wonder who’s flowers are those..?
⤷ alysaxliu: It’s for the prettiest girl I know💗
meganskiendiel: Wowow, can’t wait to see you guys!!!
⤷ alysaxliu: ikr, we can’t wait to meet you guys soon!!
User10: I’m lowkey not sure how they met but I never knew them being together would make me feel so happy 🥹
User67: I’m so excited to see what Alysa’s gonna do for her birthday spam
⤷ User8: wait… y/n’s birthday is coming up??
⤷ User67: yes!! it’s in six more days!
⤷ User8: Literally why didn’t I know that… I was a fan of her ever since she was in the Charli XCX music video and I didn’t know that..
- okay that was my first time writing something, just wanted to try it out and see if it I liked it. I would like to have tips and advice to improve and make these stories or whatever better!
in which: bad bunny reserved you a seat at the nfl super bowl just for you to watch his performance
note: hi everyone! this will be the last part of the series! thank you all for the love! tbh i had a hard time writing this 🥲 i just couldn't find the right words or how to put the scenes together (i think cuz my exams just finished 😭) so i'm sorry if i disappointed yall 😭 don't worry, i will continue writing more actually good bad bunny ffs! 🫶 (i already have one in my drafts!) also for those who're submitting requests, i see you!! don't worry, i'll respond to you guys very soon! 🩷🩷 disclaimer: google translate spanish
tags: bad bunny x southeast asian!fem!reader, artist reader, age gap, implied height difference, wholesome, confession, fluff, cringe (?), pedro pascal mentioned?!, one mention of d*ath threat
"WOW THAT looks amazing, dear," your mother said through the phone. "your father would be jealous if he knew you watched football live," she added. you're currently on call with her, panning your camera to cover the whole look of the stadium. it was only her this time, your siblings had gone to their schools/work as well as your father since it's a monday morning in their timezone.
"but... how did you even get a ticket? i don't think you're that interested in football?" your mother asked once you switched to the front camera. "oh, um..." you haven't told your family yet that you met someone at the grammys, became good friends, then gave you a football game ticket that probably costs a fortune just to watch his show. you know your family, they're loud, they wouldn't be able to handle it. next thing you'll know, your mother already posted a facebook status saying she's gonna have puerto rican grandchildren.
"i met someone at the grammys and... they invited me here. because they're going to perform," you explained, not fully disclosing the person's gender. "oh, that's nice dear. that's good, connections are good," your mother winked at you, oblivious to the fact that, that simple invitation was more than just celebrity connections. "yeah..." you laughed awkwardly. you then noticed that something was being set up on the field. you figured it might be for benito's performance.
"i have to go mom," you bid your goodbyes and hang up. you didn't expect benito to give you a seat so close to the field and beside the entrance. people in grass costumes came walking out to the field and filled up space. you found it quite funny and cute at the same time. soon it was dancers, then the props, then production staff.
you could already feel the adrenaline fill the air. people beside and above you are squealing and whispering to themselves, excited to see the only person they came to see. of course, you were no different. despite getting close with benito overnight, he's still the person you idolized, bad bunny. and it's your first time watching a live performance of an international artist you adore.
suddenly, you heard someone call your name. at first, you tried to look for it from the audience. you thought it might've been a fan that wanted to say hi or take a picture with you, because earlier there were a few people who were able to recognize you. then you felt someone poke your arm, prompting you to look at the direction where it came from. you were about to tell off the person who poked you but you only saw the very man you've been waiting to appear.
it was benito. he was in an all white, jersey-like outfit that perfectly captures his physique. "oh my gosh! it's bad bunny!" you heard one shout from the audience behind you. you start to panic, you didn't want fans to hog him just because he went to see you. "está bien, (y/n)," he said, immediately noticing your panicked expression. he gestured to the guards around him, they were on high alert and you think you know why.
"i just wanted to say hi," benito stated, smiling at you despite the nervousness he feels. you felt a tad guilty, he was supposed to be laying low because of the death threats he's been receiving, but he's out here in the open just to say hi. you pondered, you needed to do something for him even if it's just a word of encouragement. you didn't understand why he's going through such lengths for you, but you're not going to take it for granted.
"buena suerte, benito," you said, trying hard to sound fluent. you cringed at yourself, you hope he didn't find it corny. benito stood still for a second, stunned. it was a simple 'good luck', yes, but it was you who said that. in his language. he's had non-spanish speaking women in his life not even try to learn it for him. but here you are. it's the bare minimum, he knows that but— oh, he's down bad.
he crouches to your level, startling you. "haré lo mejor que pueda por ti," he whispered so only the two of you can hear it. before he left, he ruffled your hair and winked at you so fast you almost missed it. you didn't understand him, because all you could hear was your heart beating in your ear. benito just confused you big time. you thought this whole invite was just his way to help you. help you feel belonged, help you have fun. but as far as you know, universally, across all cultures, no friend would ruffle your hair and let his hand linger for a few seconds. unless he sees you like a little sister... that must be it? right?
"you got yourself a good man." you snapped out of your thoughts at the voice beside you. it's the sweet old dominican woman you've been having short conversations with since you entered the stadium. "sorry?" you asked, confused. "did you understand what he said?" she asked back, giving you a knowing look. you shook your head. the sweet old lady let out a chuckle, "he said, he's going to do his best for you."
you felt heat rush up from your neck. did you hear that right? was the old lady telling you the truth? what if she's playing you? as if the old lady heard your thoughts, she spoke, "i'm telling the truth, ija. i'm dominican, i should be able to understand what he said." you gape at her, breath hitching. you didn't mean to question her credibility, you just didn't want to assume. before you could respond, the show started. the intro of tití me preguntó played and everyone went crazy. you were just glad you're seated in the right crowd as everyone was already singing along.
there were no words that can perfectly describe the performance you just witnessed. benito perfectly showcased his culture to the whole word and most probably made the latinos watching him in their homes feel seen. it even surprised you to see lady gaga perform a salsa version of her song, 'die with a smile'. and when benito appeared again in an all white suit and his signature sunglasses, you couldn't help but wish you were the one dancing with him on stage.
there were scenes that touched you. when he gave his grammy award to a kid, it most likely represents him giving it to his younger self. and when he brought out ricky martin singing 'lo que le pasó a hawaii', the old dominican lady beside you almost had a heart attack. and finally, when he mentioned all the countries of america— the continent of america— every latino and latina that sat beside you scream at the mention of their homelands.
when dtmf started playing, it was the cue for them to exit. they were exiting to the tunnel beside you, and somehow it clicked why benito gave you that seat. as the dancers were walking out and cheering, a small flag caught your eye. you had to double check it to make sure. i need to see him, was all you thought as you stare at the small flag of your country in the sea of latin america flags.
"señora," one of benito's guards came up to you, making you flinch. "mr. martínez asks for you," he said. "yes!" you shouted a bit too enthusiastically. you abruptly sat up, almost knocking your bag from your lap and followed the guard suit.
you walked past the dancers dancing and cheering, adrenaline still running through their veins. along the way, a group of girl dancers approached you. they were waving a tiny country of your flag. "omg! (y/n)!" they exclaimed, surprising you. "we just wanted to say thank you," one of the girls spoke in your native language. "when bad bunny found out there were a few dancers with your same ethnicity, he asked us to hold a flag of our country," another one explained, tearfully.
"if not for you, we wouldn't be holding these, even if you could barely see them from the crowd," another states, face completely stained with tears. you were overwhelmed and confused. you didn't know whether to accept their gratitude or ask them what they were talking about. because what do they mean bad bunny asked them to hold a flag of your country? when the performance was clearly for the latino community? were you really the reason behind it? what is benito really implying here?
"i— you're welcome? i don't... i don't quite understand what's happening here. why would he ask you to hold a flag of our country?" you asked, completely bewildered. the girls glanced at each other, getting equally as confused. "what do you mean, ms. (y/n)? isn't it obvious? he wanted you to feel included. it was all for you." you couldn't believe it. you're not sure if you could believe it. could you even trust these girls' words? no, you needed to hear it from benito himself.
"i see, thank you," you said before rushing to catch up with the guard. there you saw benito, he was with the big names he invited to the performance, all celebrating on his successful halftime show. then he saw you, a big smile plastered on his face. he called out your name, walking up to you but he noticed immediately how you weren’t smiling at him. your face only showed utter confusion.
“¿qué ocurre?—“ “the flags, the dancers, is it true? did you really tell them to do that?” you asked with urgency. benito’s smile came back, smaller and more intimate this time. “you saw it?” he inched towards you, anticipating your reaction. the height difference between you two were evident this time with how painful your neck was craning up. “of course. how could i not?” you muttered, suddenly aware with how close benito was to you.
you gathered the courage to finally ask him, “was it… was it really for me?" you look up at him, eyes wide. he was staring back at you and for a moment, you saw his eyes flicker downwards. "did you... not like it?" and that was enough for energy to surge through you. before you could even think, you engulf him in a tight hug. "did i not like it? benito, i loved it!"
benito went frozen at the sudden feeling of your body pressed against him. what the dancers told you were all true. he didn't accidentally find out he had dancers with the same ethnic background, he deliberately searched for them just to do that mini surprise for you. his friends found it strange when they heard it. it certainly wasn't like benito to go do things like that for a girl— sure, he'd write songs about someone, but that's a common thing between musicians.
this... act of affection was different, weird in a good way. he snapped back to reality when he heard clapping behind him. he saw his good friend, pedro pascal, looking at him teasingly. he shook his head, laughing lightly. benito finally looked down, you were gripping the sides of his suit and was looking up at him. he couldn't help but think of how cute you looked right then and there.
"but why? why would you do that, benito?" you ask, eyebrows furrowing. benito bit his lip, feeling the increase in his heartbeat. he slid his right hand from your left arm to your hand, sending electric signals through your spine. "well... i couldn't possibly insert you in the performance last minute. mi manager me matará," he answered humorously. you giggle awkwardly, staring at his hand holding yours so gently.
suddenly, realization struck you. you frowned and stared back at benito once again. he noticed your quick change of expression, he always does. he glanced at his guard, gesturing something before pulling you to a tent. he sat you down on a couch, crouching down in front of you.
"why are you—" "¿qué pasa, mami? tell me what's wrong." the sudden term of endearment made you pause. right, that's what's wrong. him doing all this, is wrong. you two just met a few days ago. you two barely know each other on a personal level. you need to know his true intentions.
"this..." you pointed at the two of you. "... it's confusing me," you said, not daring to look away from him. "you just met me," you added. benito took off his glasses and you're immediately lost in his eyes. you can't help but soften up, feeling a bit guilty to question his actions.
"you want... honesty?" you nodded without hesitation. benito inhaled deeply, bracing himself. "me gustas, (y/n). i'm interested in you." you raised both your brows at him, clearly not understanding what he said first. "interested how? like, for a collaboration?" you asked. if he was interested in that way, does he usually go through lengths just for a collab?
benito chuckled, dropping his head low, making you more confused. "what? don't laugh at me—" "i fell for you." and that made you stop completely. your brain malfunctions and the gears have stopped turning. fell? literally or figuratively? he meant figuratively, idiot! but, bad bunny? falling for you? that just seemed so... unrealistic. for you at least.
benito stared at you as you worked your brain up to process his confession. he wondered if he should've just gone straight for it in the beginning. he felt a bit guilty having confused you like this, but seeing your reaction to his surprise was definitely worth it. now that he thinks about it, he didn't even considered if you felt the same. but that'd be too ridiculous when you're such an open book. your eyes never lied, and the way you look at him was the proof of it.
benito places a hand on top of your knee, bringing you back to reality. despite the cool air inside the tent, you were sweating buckets. "y— you mean to say... you like me, like that?" you asked, putting emphasis on the second 'like'. "sí, i like you like that," he answered back, copying your tone almost sarcastically. "what— why— how?" you were flailing your arms in the air, shocked and confused at the same time. you're a smart woman, but right now, your brain is acting so slow.
"(y/n), i understand if it's too fast for you. pero we can start as friends if you want to," benito explains. you hold up a palm at him. "wait. one at a time. why aren't you asking if i like you back? you're just straight up deciding for the both of us here!" you exclaimed, feeling quite offended that your feelings aren't talked about. he smirks, "you're quite easy to read. unless... estoy equivocado?"
"easy to rea—?!" you choke on your own spit, feeling embarrassed. were you that obvious since the beginning? you cover your already heating face in shame, but benito stops you. he gently puts your hands down and calls your name. "me gustas mucho. we can do it however you want. we can start as friends, i can court you like how you do it in your culture, no me importa... all i need is your go signal, cariño," he said with such seriousness.
you take it in, very seriously this time. there's no denying that you like benito and would grab every chance if it meant dating him, but what happens next? what happens now that all your fantasies have come true? do you really deserve someone like him? a man who can have any woman he wants. the man that is currently kneeling before you, confessing his feelings for you. and he looks like he won't take 'no' for an answer.
you laugh at yourself. how silly. there was no point overthinking the future. the man of your dreams is already throwing himself at you and you'll gladly catch him with open arms. you lean in closer, placing a gentle, light as a feather peck on his lips. "i like you too, benito."
end note: honestly... i think this turned out cringe 😭✌️
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