Just had a dream that I was at a Bad Bunny concert and I gave him a beaded wristlet that was PR themed with a beaded UVST heart and Concho attached to it and he loved it and gave me a hug…
While things at home are tense, Benito finally makes some decisions for himself that he wants to stick with. All that he needs to do is tie up loose ends.
Last Part | Finale
wc. 5k | My Masterlist
notes. guys, thank you guys so much. I truly can't thank all of you enough for your love on this fic. Truly, y'all are something else, and anytime I get comments or messages on any parts of this series, it makes my entire day and has been making my entire weeks from Friday to Friday. I love y'all so much! This is the finale of the series, but at the end, I've mentioned a little surprise <3
tags. bad bunny x fem!reader, slow burn, angst, college AU, mentions of casual sex (always consentual) and drugs and alcohol, mentions of being drunk, some violence, but doesn't get to explicit. the both of you switch between english and spanish often, spanish isn't translated, and spanish is part google translate/part research
Things at home were… tense.
Benito walked around his childhood home like a stranger; his parents making it known that they still had no interest in speaking to him. He wasn’t even sure they really wanted him there in the first place, except for they had been so adamant about taking him home.
All the way home from the university, his parents had really let him have it.
It seemed like anything he said wasn’t enough. No matter how much work he’d been putting into his grades; no matter how much he said he didn’t punch someone for the hell of it, they didn’t believe him. To make matters so much worse, as they had been packing up his stuff, they had found the bottle of chocolate Pitorro he’d thrown under his bed a couple of weeks ago.
No matter how hard he tried, they didn’t believe him that he’d changed. They’d thought the worst of him, and even worse after they picked him up. His parents made sure to punish him as much as they possibly could.
They left his car at the school and cut the cable so he couldn’t watch TV either. If they hadn’t made Benito pay for his own internet and phone bill when he left for college, he was sure they would’ve tried to take that away too.
It felt bogus, but he understood why they were going to such lengths. Especially since he’d cut them off for so long, he could understand that they wanted to make him feel just as abandoned as he made them feel.
Still, he tried to get through to them.
There were moments where he would try to explain himself, but they weren’t having it. Not even his mom. It would just start bigger arguments about how Benito didn’t care or how he was throwing his life away, yelling over him to where he couldn’t share his piece.
It seemed like anytime he tried, it would just become a shouting match. They hadn’t seen his change throughout those few months with you; they were only choosing to see the worst parts of him still, as the boy he once was.
And Benito couldn’t blame them.
He knew they cared, or they wouldn’t have picked him up. But they certainly made it hard to want to talk to them. Benito was trying his hardest to get on their good side, but it just wasn’t working. They simply needed more time.
His sole focus, however, was on you. It had only been a day and a half since Sunday, but Benito worried about you. He wondered if you were adjusting back to class well. He hated the thought of Jace pestering you or Luis bothering you without him there; it sent shivers down his spine and anger to rise in his stomach every time he thought about it.
Benito would find his peace at night when he got to speak to you over the phone. You never failed to make him feel more at ease with his situation; staying as a reminder that he had more to look forward to.
He’d called you extremely late Tuesday night, hoping his parents in the room down the hall couldn’t hear him. He’d attempted to call the night before. Trying to be nice, he had let his parents know his plan, assuming that because it was you, it wouldn’t be such a big deal to talk on the phone for a while. It only resulted in another screaming match since his parents didn’t believe that he had a girlfriend now.
“Hello?”
Sleep laced your voice as you answered, making Benito smile to himself, “Ey, Mami.”
“Beni,” You breathed, “Are you okay?”
“Muchísimo mejor ahora, mi amor. Siento haber tardado tanto en llamar.”
“Entiendo.”
As you yawned, he couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle. It was close to 3 in the morning, but it was worth it to listen to your voice.
“Have you been able to talk to your parents?”
It was an innocent enough question, but it made Benito sigh, “No… They have no interest, still.”
“They’ll come around.”
Nodding, he wished he could’ve believed you too.
He talked to you for a while, just wanting to hear about your day. You told him that most things at the school were normal. He tried not to cringe when you told him about Jace asking thousands of questions now that he wasn’t there, but also felt a surge of pride and laughed when you told him that you left the room, slamming the door in the pest’s face.
After you’d drifted off one too many times, Benito opted to stop making you talk and started to listen to your quiet snores over the line for a while, imagining himself curled up with you. A big part of him regretted his decision, wishing he would have stayed with you instead.
Eventually, he hung up the call with a quiet promise to see you sooner rather than later and murmured, “Te amo, baby. Goodnight.”
The next day, Benito sat around the house anxiously. He had a plan he was going to set in motion, and he didn’t want to fuck it up by having a frivolous fight with his parents, so he made sure to keep himself busy and to keep his mouth shut. They were going to be much more mad at him anyway after his plan.
To keep preoccupied, Benito dug out the box with his soundboard and music supplies. He brought the gadget into the family room and set it up to his laptop like he used to. The program was older and slower, but it still worked just as fine as Benito remembered. He’d open the old songs saved to his drive and laugh at how young he sounded.
Although his parents had a sort of conniption about it, they weren’t as mad that he was doing something productive. In a sort of backwards way from you, they’d always liked that he did music in his free time, and had encouraged it when he needed to pick his major. He’d used the excuse that he was learning this in school before he was kicked out, and that seemed to work for them to let him be for the day.
Even though he’d used it as an excuse to pass the time, Benito found himself having fun again. There weren’t any grades, or really even anyone to show this music to; he was just making what he thought sounded best to him. During the day, he made beats to those songs he’d sang to you in Maya, having been stuck in his head all week.
When his parents went to bed that night, he stayed in their living room, still making beats. However, he kept his eyes on the window out front where the truck was parked.
It was a stupid plan, really: take the truck over to your place, spend the night with you in his arms, and get back before they could even realize he’d left. It wasn’t foolproof - there was tons of room for error - but that didn’t quite matter to him when his parents were pissed off at him anyway.
Benito waited until he could hear their soft snores before he turned off his laptop and put his plan to action. Tiptoeing his way around, he swiped his parents’ keys from the front table and tried not to smile to himself as he walked out the front door.
Running up to the truck, he quickly got in and roared the ignition to life. It was loud - maybe a little too loud - but he ignored that thought as he quickly pulled out of the driveway.
The drive wasn’t too long as he ended up being a bit of a speed demon on the highway, making it to your dorm in record time. With it being so late, Benito tried to look like he belonged in the building, navigating through the common areas and finding the way up to your room easily.
He rapped his knuckles on your door a few times, hoping he wasn’t taking things too far by showing up unannounced. But soon, he could hear the rustling behind your door; it cracked- the tiniest bit so you could see who was at your place so late at night.
The curly haired man barely waited until your face was in the frame, throwing the door open to then get his arms around you. You let out a noise of surprise when his arms wrapped around your waist and laid a kiss on your lips, but soon you relaxed into the touch, throwing your own arms around his neck to pull him closer.
Pulling away, he got a good look at you. Parts of your skin were stained with paint and your hair was pulled back. There was a spec of blue on your forehead Benito was sure you weren’t aware of, making him laugh lightly.
“Hi, Mami.”
“Hi.” You breathed out against his cheek, your eyes wide and stunned as you looked at him. “Qué estás…”
“Estoy aquí para verte en nuestra date night.”
You let out the smallest laugh, your hands traveling along his chest, “Son las once y cuarenta de la noche. You’re a little late for a date. But I appreciate you coming here.”
Benito smirked, licking a stripe on his thumb, watching your eyes flitter to his finger and tongue. Deliberately, he moved slowly, making it a bit of a show for you before reaching up and wiping the paint off of your forehead.
“Then we have twenty minutes to have a romantic date… ¿Qué nos recomiendas hacer?”
The shiver that went down your spine didn’t go unnoticed. He could feel it in your lower back just beneath his fingers that held you lightly to him. Arousal hit him hard, much as it had been doing any time he laid his eyes on you.
“I mean,” You mused aloud, “There’s a few things we could–”
Benito cut you off with a laugh, slamming his lips back into yours. He pushed you backwards until you fell onto your couch, pulling him on top of you. Grinding his hips against yours, you let out a squeak of noise that was so much better than any of the music he’d made that day.
Date night was definitely not going to be a waste.
***
Benito caressed the side of your leg, fingers gripping at the flesh of your thigh to pull you closer. Although the two of you had just finished your fill of fun, he still didn’t feel like he could get you any closer.
He loved this part of the night with you just as much as he loved the sex. The air around the both of you would get quiet, and Benito let himself feel vulnerable.
“Did I make the right choice?”
The question left his lips in a whisper.
Lightly, you were messing with the back of his head, twirling your fingers in the back of his curls. It made his skin tingle with a pleasant sensation, grounding him as the light tug you gave his hair pulled him back into reality.
“¿Sientes que tomaste la decisión equivocada?”
Benito dragged his nose against your collarbone, placing a kiss along the skin of your chest, just above your breast, “I don’t know… Kinda. ¿Y si estoy empeorando las cosas al no luchar por mi lugar en la escuela? Debería haberte hecho caso…”
“You said it yourself,” you shrugged, “You need to focus more on your relationship with your parents right now than you do on school. Además, seguirías preguntándote si estabas empeorando las cosas al quedarse también. Todavía estarías preocupado.”
As his lips grazed lower, he pressed your knee tight to his hip, “Guess so…”
A moan slipped from your throat as his head dipped below the covers. However, your grip in his hair tightened, pulling him back up in view. Flashing you a smile, he let go of your legs to crawl on top of you, unable to keep his lips from attaching to your neck again.
“Me inspiraste, Beni.”
The words were so quiet from you that he almost missed them over the rustling of sheets. He would’ve missed it if he hadn’t felt the gentle vibration in your jaw. Lifting his head only slightly from your neck, he gave you a quizzical look. Against his own chest, he could feel your heart fluttering.
“Hablé con mis padres.” You whispered, “I called on Monday morning… I thought it was so brave of you to want to fix things, I decided that maybe it was time to do the same.”
Benito watched as your eyes rimmed with tears, but he was quick to reach up and catch any before they fell. He whispered your name with the utmost adoration, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Las palabras no pueden describir lo orgulloso que estoy de ti…” He murmured, “What did they say?”
“Not much,” You choked back a sob, “Pero fue un buen comienzo.”
Benito nodded, quickly pressing his lips to yours, sensing that you didn’t want to continue on the sensitive topic right that second. He knew he would ask you about it again in the future, but he was happy you were being just as vulnerable with him.
Instead, he pulled you closer, whispering more praises to you. Although he wanted to make love to you over and over again, it was already getting very late, and you had school the next morning. Just around two in the morning, he begrudgingly pulled himself away from you and started to get dressed.
Just as he’d bent down to grab his pants, he felt a light spank on his left butt cheek, causing him to hiss through his teeth.
“Cuidado, Mami… unless you wanna stay up all night.”
You laughed, “I wouldn’t mind if it were with you.”
Although he chuckled with you, he shook his head, “You’re needed in school more than me. Te mantendré despierto el viernes, ¿qué te parece?”
“Is that a promise?”
A purr sounded deep in Benito’s chest as he nodded to you, “Ya lo creo.”
After the both of you got dressed, you walked him out of your building and to his truck, holding his hand tightly the entire way down.
Once there, he pulled you in for a close embrace, letting you bury your face into his chest, “Te quiero, Beni.”
“I love you too.”
Saying those words to you would never get old.
Finally separating, you two parted ways with one more kiss. He watched as you made your way back into the building safely before pulling off and driving the way back to his parent’s house.
Sometime around three, Benito pulled the truck into the driveway, cutting off the engine as soon as he placed it in park. The motor was still loud, but he hoped his parents couldn’t hear that from the outside. Carefully, he got out and made his way over the back fence, hoping that wouldn’t be as conspicuous and loud as the front door.
He certainly wasn’t as nimble as he once was in high school, but he was mostly proud of himself that despite how slow he was, he was still able to climb the wooden fence with little to no sound.
With a low thud, his feet hit the soil below him, and a gruff chuckle sounded from the back porch.
“Sabía que habías robado mi camioneta, cabrón.” His Dad’s voice spoke in a low murmur, “Me pareció demasiado bueno que estuvieras haciendo música otra vez.”
Benito rounded the corner, seeing that his father was sitting in one of the plastic chairs they kept near the back door, a cigarette between his fingers, seemingly having just been lit. He’d said he quit years ago, but there’d always been ash marks near the chair he sat in then.
“Pensé que habías renunciado.” the younger man said aloud.
“Me has estresado.” His father waved him off, “Quizás lo heredaste de mí.”
A breathless laugh escaped Benito as he looked at the scene before him, nodding. His father gestured to one of the other plastic chairs in the backyard, vaguely asking for Benito to grab one and pull one up to sit.
The younger of the two did just that, pulling up a chair to sit beside his father. The two sat in an almost uncomfortable, grating silence. The air smelled of cheap cigarettes and the salt of the sea.
“¿Qué demonios has estado haciendo?”
The question from his Dad wasn’t as angry as he thought it would be. Benito sighed, sitting back in the chair, running his hands through his curls. Relief flowed through him as he looked at his dad.
“No te culparía si no me crees.” He started, “Pero me enamoré. Todo ha sido para ella.”
Even in the pale light, he could see his father smirking just before taking a slow drag of his cigarette, “¿Esa chica que me plantó cara?”
Benito snickered, “Sí... lo siento.”
Again, the older man waved him off, “Me dio la impresión de que tiene los pies en la tierra. Necesitabas a alguien así desde hace mucho tiempo.”
“Papi,” Benito groaned, “Lo siento mucho. De verdad lo intentaba. Ella me estaba ayudando a mejorar mis notas, y Luis la amenazó… Tenía miedo de contarte lo que pasó, porque sabía que no me creerías.”
Exhaling, his Dad nodded to his son, looking him over carefully, “Te hemos exigido mucho porque sabemos que puedes dar más. Lamento que no siempre lo hayamos dicho de esa manera. Pero eres un chico muy inteligente, Benito. Nos enfureció que no lo notarás en ti antes.
“En mi juventud, yo también solo quería ser libre y vivir mi vida como quisiera, sin consecuencias. Me vi tanto en ti que, al ver que tomabas el mismo camino, te traté tal como mi padre me trataba a mí. Lo odié. Yo lo habría cortado de la misma manera que tú nos cortaste a nosotros.”
Carefully his father leaned forward, letting some of the ash from his cigarette fall to the ground below. He let out a sigh,
“¿Qué arreglará todo, mijo?”
Taking a second to think, Benito also sat forward in his chair, clasping his fingers together in front of him.
For several hours that night, Benito and his father sat outside for a long time talking and discussing everything until the sun rose over the horizon into a beautiful orange sky. The conversation was hard on both ends, and some tears were even shed over some apologies.
When his mom woke up the next morning, she blinked awkwardly as she walked into the living room, seeing the two men watching TV with the cable turned back on. In brief summaries, not wanting to make his mom too emotional, they explained everything they’d discussed outside to her.
His Mother pulled Benito close to her, holding him in a tight embrace that he hadn’t realized how much he missed. Even though he didn’t want to get emotional, he felt tears spring to his eyes again as he let himself wrap his arms around his mother’s shoulders.
She whispered apologies to him as well, wishing she hadn’t been so harsh on him before, but he didn’t let her make too many, telling her that he knew he’d been in the wrong too. Holding his mom, it felt more like the air was finally starting to filter out.
Over breakfast, all three of them actually sat around the table and ate and talked. Finally, Benito felt like he was able to give his entire side of things. He started from the beginning of the semester and how he’d spilled coffee on his TA, the nights out with you, the spring break party with Luis, all the way up until his stay with you in Maya (obviously leaving out any details his parents didn’t need to know).
It didn’t occur to him that he was gushing about you until his parents shared a coy smile with each other right after he’d mentioned your name again. In the past few hours of talking with both of his parents, he was sure he’d talked about you over a hundred times. He normally hadn’t been so open about girls with his parents, but it was only proving that you weren’t just another girl for him.
Although they hadn’t fully forgiven him yet, they were at least beginning to see his side, and they let up on most of his punishments.
On Friday, they even took him to campus to see you, giving him back his keys so he could drive back home with his own car. There were conditions set, like him being back home the next morning so he could help with chores, but they gave him some freedom for some time.
Getting to see you that night was just the cherry on top.
***
Everything was starting to feel much better for Benito, at least with all of the people he most cared about. Things weren’t as tense, and a lot of the bad was starting to be put behind him. He was even starting to do music more as a hobby again, having found a lot of joy in mixing and creating songs like he used to.
Benito thought school was behind him up until he got a call almost a week and a half later.
It was at the start of April, a week and a half later, when his parents came to his room with the news that they’d received an email from the Dean of his university. Thinking it was an April Fool’s joke, he’d laughed it off, but they quickly made it known that it was no joke. They made him follow them to the computer where they read off said email.
The email was asking for Benito to come back to the campus to plead his case after two witnesses stepped up and provided more evidence that had not been previously brought to light. It still didn’t quite register that it was real until yours and Lacy’s names were read out loud to him.
The young boricuan felt his heart speed up with adoration he didn’t know he could feel for you as he realized you’d fought for him once again.
His mother was the first to urge him to go to campus that day; march on in there and give them the entire story much like he had to them. His father suggested that he go with Benito to provide support, and maybe even try to persuade the dean in some way.
But Benito had his own plan, and he wanted them to trust him with that.
Heading up to campus in his beaten car that next day, he felt confident as he parked where he needed to and walked up to the building he was looking for. For a while, he had to wait in the little office waiting area, but he simply breathed through the butterflies in his stomach. When it was his turn, he walked in and talked to the dean as confidently as possible, giving the exact same story and plans he’d given to his parents.
They ended up talking for almost two hours, discussing everything going forward with the school. There were a lot of difficult decisions Benito had to make while sitting there, but he did it, and he did it with a clean conscious.
When the meeting was done, Benito felt like the last final piece of the puzzle was put in place.
It was close to evening time when Benito found himself outside in the lobby of your art class. He had tea in one hand and flowers in the other, finding himself more anxious to see you than he had the dean.
It was Wednesday, after all.
As the class began to filter out of the hall, he stood still and watched everyone pass him until you appeared. You were quietly talking to a classmate, almost oblivious to him as you walked to the door, when you did a double take.
He couldn’t help but smile as you ran up to him, throwing your arms around his neck in a quick hug. As you two separated, you pulled him to sit with you on a bench just outside of the art studio. He handed you the tea and the flowers, but you quickly set them both aside, wrapping your arms around him again. Benito knew you weren’t one for public affection, but that didn’t seem to matter much to you then as you pulled him in for a kiss.
“¿Hablaste con el decano?” The excitement in your voice made Benito smile as he nodded. You made a small squeal, pressing the palms of your hands to his cheeks, “¿Qué dijo?”
“Gracias a ti y a Lacy, me dijo que podía ser readmitido si quería.” Taking your hand in his, he gave it a small squeeze, “He said that it was a big misunderstanding and that you two weren't the only ones that were at the party who were involved and saw the whole thing. They told me it’s possible Luis is going to be expelled instead.”
“We kinda launched a campus police investigation.” You said sheepishly, “Resulta que te has portado como un caballero con la mayoría de las señoras en las sororidades.. Most of them had really good things to say about you.”
Benito laughed as blood rushed to his cheeks. It’s not like you didn’t know he’d talked to most of them before you, but hearing that they stood up for him after everything did make him feel a certain bashfulness.
“You helped me though,” He said through a small sigh, “Everything good out of this has been because of you. Pase lo que pase, luchaste por mí. No tengo palabras para agradecerte la ayuda que me has brindado en cada paso del camino.”
Beaming, you pressed another kiss to his lips, “Vale la pena luchar por ti, ¿sabes?”
“So are you, mi amor,” Benito smiled.
“So, when is your first day back?”
Biting his lip, he’d been waiting for this question from you. Slowly, he shook his head, “No volveré. Al menos no este año.”
You blinked a few times, your smile faltering, “Benito…”
Quickly, he leaned toward you, grabbing your other hand so he held both of them tightly in his. He brought one of them up to his lips, pressing a light kiss to your knuckles. A slow smile spread across his face as he looked at you.
“No acepté la oferta del decano, al menos no todavía. I discussed it with my parents and in the meeting with the dean today, but I decided that it’s best for me to take a gap year to focus on getting my life together. I can come back when I want to.
“I told you that the only reason I wanted to stay was for you, and it was silly of me to say, but I meant it. La verdad es que no es justo para nadie. La escuela nunca ha sido lo mío, y eso está bien. If I’m going to finish it, I need to finish it on my own timeline.”
Nodding, you squeezed his hands back tightly.
“That’s brave of you. And if that’s what you feel is best, sabes que estoy aquí para ti.”
After another sweet kiss from you, he had gotten up and started walking towards your dorm with you, you with the tea in your hand as Benito held the flowers in his. Between you, you had your fingers laced together tightly, slightly swinging as the two of you walked.
“Speaking of being there for you,” Benito chuckled, “Mis padres me van a ayudar a encontrar un apartamento aquí en San Juan... para poder estar cerca de ti. I want to work a little, maybe do some music on the side, but only as long as it’s as close to you as possible.”
You bit the middle of your lip, and Benito stopped you both to reach up and place his hand along your cheek, using his thumb to pull it out from underneath your teeth. Just below a whisper, he breathed out a soft, “ey, no los arruines” as he resisted the urge to kiss you just yet.
“Cerca de mí, ¿eh?”
“As possible.”
Leaning forward, you captured him in a kiss again, making all of the air in his lungs leave him. After a tender moment, the two of you separated and locked eyes for just a moment. He couldn’t help but wonder how he ended up with someone so pretty.
The two of you resumed your walk for only a few steps before you started to giggle to yourself, pulling him along with you, “So, this has to stay between us.”
Furrowing his eyebrows, he still smiled as he gave you a look, “Okay?”
“You didn’t hear it from me, but…” you brought your voice down to a whisper, “I think your friend Lacy might’ve slashed Luis’ tires too.”
Benito’s eyes widened and a small laugh escaped him, “What?”
You shrugged and shushed him quickly, though you also couldn’t help but laugh, “Nadie debe saberlo, pero quizás agradécele un poco más…”
“That’s… wow…” He shook his head in disbelief as you squeezed his hand once again.
“People love you, Benito.”
He smiled, “¿Y tú?”
You nodded sincerely, making Benito’s heart soar.
“It took some time to realise, but I think you struck my heart the day we met. Curiosamente... creo que me enamoré de ti cuando derramaste el café sobre mí.”
“You’ll never let me live that down, huh?”
Both of you grinned at each other as you shook your head.
“Nunca.”
end a.n. surprise, guys! there's going to be an epilogue to this, so this isn't technically the last part! some of you might've guessed that, but I can't let this story end without ALL loose ends tied!! gosh, this fic has been my baby for such a long time, and I just love it to pieces! Thank you guys so so so sooooo much for your continued support, and I truly hope you loved this silly little story too :)))
(taglist). @percysley, @zoomingspark888, @forwardsreckonreboundddd, @conejodelbenito, @oceantides-and-daffodils, @whiteghostlyclouds, @kenstellation, @videogamedriver, @shimmeringsunshinestars
A run on the classic "three times that Superman saves you and the one time you save him". Before the first time he saves you, while working at your new job in a record store, you meet Clark, who might just be the man of your dreams.
wc. 9.8k | My Masterlist | Next Part
notes. This is my first work for Clark Kent/Superman! ahhh! I hope you enjoy, and please let me know what you think!
tags. clark kent (superman) x fem!reader, hurt/comfort, angst, close to the movie AU, mentions of a deceased father, some violence, clark being a cutie.
After quitting your office job, you took a pretty significant pay cut to work at a record store in the heart of Metropolis. It was the only record store in the city before heading toward Gotham, so getting the job felt like somewhat of an accomplishment.
It wasn’t a big store, or even that popular, but the music scene in Metropolis held Metrecordlis in the highest regard. It was a sort of sacred ground where most people forgot their day to day lives and just got to come in and browse while listening to music.
Once upon a time, your father would bring you too and the two of you would pick out some random records to bring home.
Those nights after dinner, the two of you would go into the living room and listen to the records you bought in their entirety. No words would need to be spoken as the music overtook the two of you in ways you couldn’t describe.
You’d done that every week up until he passed away.
And even a year later, you still hadn’t quite found your footing.
Grief made it hard to get up some mornings, while other mornings felt totally normal. You knew logically that a loss that significant would make you feel deeply, but it was still so suffocating to not know when something or someone would trigger you. Especially since every-day life was tied into your father like air.
Even at home, you kept his TV on and his door closed like he was still in there resting. Sometimes pretending made things easier, but not always.
Most days were mundane at this record job for you, but definitely more interesting than the office. You actually liked your coworkers and manager for the most part. And you got to meet all kinds of interesting people that walked through. It made for great distraction most days.
You saw just about everyone there was to see come through the store; business execs, mothers and fathers, fitness gurus, influencers. Everyone came through to look for their music they loved.
And just being in Metropolis itself was bound for some chaos too.
It made things even more interesting having the newly formed Justice Gang around. Trouble did seem to find the city at some inconvenient times, bringing the craziest things like giant monsters and mutants. But the Justice Gang did a pretty good job of keeping the city safe.
Most of the thanks went to Metropolis’ hero, Superman.
You admired Superman a lot after your Dad’s passing. Or at least the way he was portrayed on TV - resilient and indestructible. You envied that, wishing you could be just as strong.
The chime above the door sounded, causing you to snap out of your deep thoughts.
It hadn’t been a busy day, and in your downtime, you had let yourself get caught up in your memories. It was one of the parts of the job you disliked the most - having so much time alone - but there wasn’t much the customers could do about your own wandering thoughts.
Putting on your best customer service face, you approached the man who’d walked through the door.
The first thing you noticed was how tall the man was. Even slightly hunched, he towered over the gondolas that held the records.
Next, you noticed how ill-fitted his suit was. It looked like the heavy tweed of his suit jacket just fell over his shoulders, as well as the pants. For someone his size, he was being swallowed by his clothes, which felt… off.
And lastly, when he spotted you approaching him, he locked his eyes with yours. You couldn’t help but notice that they were bright blue, brighter than you think you’d ever seen. Even with just a glance, his eyes held something so deep and sincere. It almost felt otherworldly.
This man’s gaze made you stop in your tracks, your heart starting like a motor.
He was handsome.
It had been a long time since you’d found attraction in anyone, and even then, it still took a while for you to see features that felt striking to you. But with this stranger, you were nearly dumbstruck.
“Can I help you find anything?”
The words finally left your mouth without your volition as more of muscle memory. Months of asking the same dull question helped you here, as your brain felt as though it were turning to mush.
“Yes ma’am.” The man’s voice was velvety and rich with the smallest country twang in it. He was starting to smile wide at you, “I was looking for any old Johnny Cash records.”
It was like his voice encompassed you, surrounding you with warmth. Just like his eyes, it wasn’t like anything you’d herald before, and it took you more by surprise than you’d anticipated. It took a moment before his question fully registered in your mind.
“Oh,” you breathed, shaking your head to try and put you back into customer service mode, “Yes. You can follow me. Everything is alphabetized by last name.”
He gave you a grateful smile before you led him the short walk to the country section. Once there, you awkwardly stood off to the side, allowing the handsome stranger to look for himself. There were a lot of “C” names, so both of you started to sift through the records after a few moments.
“So, you’re a country fan?” you asked, albeit quietly.
You tried not to cringe at yourself as you chanced a look his way. He was still smiling, dimples forming at the corners of his mouth. As if he couldn’t get even more handsome.
“Kinda. I like it just fine, but not as much as my Pa. I’m grabbing these records for his birthday coming up.”
You nodded, “That’s kind of you.”
“Sort of…” The tall stranger shrugged once, but his smile didn’t waver, “I kinda messed up and his records got damaged a while back, so I’ve been slowly rebuilding his collection for him. It’s been slow going though. I’ve been busy, and he doesn’t live around here, so I’ll have to fly these out to him.”
A sad sort of longing crossed his features as he spoke about his Pa. It didn’t dim his eyes, but it made them look weary. It made you think of your own father and how you would’ve done the same for him.
Shaking the thoughts away before you could get sad, you plucked out a sleeve of an old Johnny Cash album with a small, triumphant smile, handing it to the stranger.
“Hey, well, at least you’re trying for him,” You said gently, “Even if it was a mistake on your part, your Pa must really appreciate the effort you’re putting in to rebuild it.”
Once again, the blue eyes met yours and another smile graced his face, taking the record from your hands,
“Thank you…” Just barely, you could see his cheeks growing a dark crimson, “Now you’re the one being kind.”
You felt your face doing much of the same and you shrugged back at him, “I’m just trying my best.”
He stood there for a long moment, just staring at the album, his large fingers fiddling with the paper cover. It was like he was thinking of more things to say, but couldn’t quite get them out. It would’ve been comical had you not been in much of the same boat.
Finally, he murmured, “I never got your name.”
Just above a murmur, you gave him your name and he hummed aloud with a larger smile than before. The small sound to him nearly reverberated the entire store, but no one else but you seemed to notice that.
“Clark.” He outstretched his hand immediately, and an air of confidence suddenly surrounded him. Your hands met and it was much more firm than you’d expected. It was even more surprising just how warm his skin was, “Clark Kent.”
The name was instantly familiar to you, “Like the Daily Planet reporter?”
Ever so slightly, his eyes lit up.
“Uh, yeah, that’s me,” He said with a short nod and an awkward laugh, “So you read the news.”
A laugh escaped you too, “I do. My Dad kept the news on all the time, so I kinda just gravitate towards keeping up with everything, plus there’s a lot going on here. You kinda gotta know the news in order to not get eaten by something alien… even if a newspaper is expensive these days.”
Clark let out a small chuckle, more sure this time as he held up his hands in defense, “Listen, I just work there.”
The two of you gave a smile to each other once again. The two of you stood there for a long few moments just looking and staring until you realized neither of you had made another move. You motioned for him to follow you again, starting to head toward the register when he stepped to your side.
“If you don’t mind helping me find one more thing,” He said quickly, nearly stumbling over his words, “Do you have The Mighty Crabjoys?”
Furrowing your brows in confusion, you looked him up and down. He was more the nerdy type than anything with the big glasses and swallowing suit. You didn’t think he seemed the type to like pop punk bands.
You smirked, deciding to tease him, “Don’t tell me that’s for your Pa too.”
“No, it’s for me,” Clark shook his head, biting back a laugh, “But there seems to be some judgement coming from you about my taste in music. Not so nice now, huh?”
Laughing again, you also held up your hands in surrender,
“No judgement, Mr. Reporter, but I wouldn’t have pinned you as a Crabjoys fan.”
“I enjoy them a lot,” he said with a small huff, “I need something to pump me up when I’m working on an article.”
You rolled your eyes and nodded your head toward the pop-punk section, “Follow me then, Mr. Kent.”
As you turned, he let out another hum. His voice, even with small sounds, made you feel warm inside. You could still feel that same buzzing energy from him, like a beam of light bursting through a pitch black room. All of your thoughts went to how you wanted nothing more than to be enveloped by whatever he was giving off.
You led him to the pop-punk area and began searching through the “M”s until you found exactly what you were looking for fairly quickly. You pulled the sleeve from its place and handed it to the much taller man standing beside you.
Clark bit his lip for just a second to try and hide the small smile that formed.
You on the other hand weren’t hiding your grin anymore, “Anything else I can help you find?”
He let out a small sigh and held out his collection of records for you, “I guess this will be it, thank you, ma’am.”
You both smiled at each other a little longer than necessary before you walked him to the register. Albeit, your pace slowed, feeling abnormally sad that your time together was coming to an end. Your limbs felt like they were moving at their own pace; becoming noodles as you got to the counter and started to ring up the incredibly handsome man’s items.
Adjusting his glasses, Clark cleared his throat, “Are you new?”
You nodded, “Kinda. I’ve only been working here for a couple of months. Why?”
“Just curious. I haven’t seen you before,” He shook his head quickly, “It’s not that I come in here that often, but it’s been the same people here for so long. The other guy that works here, B-Dog, is a really fun guy. Met him a couple of times.”
Laughing, you nodded, “He’s certainly a character.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here today instead.”
His murmur was almost too quiet for you to hear, but when it hit your ears, you began to reel. You could feel your cheeks heating up again. You tried to hide your growing flush from him by ducking below the counter to grab him a bag for his purchase.
You took a deep breath, trying to convince yourself that a little flirt was nothing serious. You popped back up quickly, giving him a genuine smile.
“I’m glad you’re here today too. It’s been really nice talking with you.”
Clark smiled wide at that as he reached into his pocket. A confused look took over his face, and after tapping his suit pockets for a few seconds, he let out a defeated sigh.
“Shoot…” He whispered, “Silly me. I think I left my wallet at home. Would you be able to keep these for me?”
Those piercing blue eyes gave you an almost pleading look, and you couldn’t help but nod in response almost automatically.
“I can put them on hold for two days.”
There wasn’t actually a policy for that.
“Perfect,” he smiled wide, biting his lip, “And will you be working in those two days?”
The prospect of possibly getting to see him again was more than exciting. With your heart hammering hard against your chest, you felt like you could barely breathe enough to answer him. Eventually, you managed to speak again, “I’ll be here tomorrow… Nine to six.”
“Good, Thank you,” your name rolled off his tongue, “It was a pleasure meeting you today.”
This time, you were the one to hum in response “The pleasure’s all mine.”
With a small, final smile, he rushed out the door, calling over his shoulder, “See you tomorrow!”
No one else seemed to hear the boom of his voice; it was like it shook the entire earth. But as you looked around to see if anyone else was stunned, it was like you were the only one encapsulated by him.
So, you chalked it up to just having a small, tiny crush.
***
The next morning, grief had other plans for you.
It struck you hard especially after good days, making it difficult to get out of bed in the morning. Some days felt real and normal, while others felt fake. And now everything felt just a little too fake for you.
Waking up in the apartment was always the hardest part. As you got ready for your day, you felt yourself going through all of the motions, but almost as if your head were underwater the entire time.
It took so long for your brain to catch up sometimes, and you wished desperately that you could just bounce back and put on a brave face. You allowed yourself to cry to try and relieve some of the pressure in your mind, but it only proved to make your head even more foggy than before.
Some solace came from the news. Trying to distract yourself, you turned the TV on and tried to look for the good in life.
Superman, the protector of your city, had done it once again from a comet-like entity. And again, you found yourself wishing you could’ve been more like him. He seemed to do it all, and he did it with a smile on his face. Obviously you didn’t have the powers he had, but you figured he must’ve been so strong mentally just as much as physically.
Once you got to the store later in the morning, you helped open slowly and did everything that was asked of you. It was a decent distraction for you as well, but sometimes the feelings were just a little too heavy.
As the day progressed, busier than the day before, you successfully had gotten your mind off of some of your sadness, but had nearly forgotten about the tall man and his records from the day before.
You had made yourself too busy to greet Clark when he walked in sometime after five. One of your other coworkers had greeted him and retrieved his records from the back. Feeling slightly defeated, you tried to stay out of their way, letting your coworker have the sale.
However, nearly moments after you’d thought that, you felt his warm presence before you saw him approach you. When you saw him, it was like your entire demeanor changed.
“Hey there!” He greeted you with a chipper voice, “I was beginning to think you weren’t here today.”
You chortled, but it didn’t feel as genuine as the day before, “Yeah. Barely made it.”
Clark’s voice dropped almost immediately, “Barely, huh?”
The sudden mood change shocked you a little. You hadn’t expected him to take you so seriously.
Not wanting to sour the mood between the two of you, a small tug happened at the corner of your lip as you nodded, “Guess I’m not feeling the greatest today.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
His voice cut deep; inviting and enveloping just like the day before. It was welcome, but the warmth made you want to cry again. There was something about Clark that felt so familiar; nostalgic even, that it reminded you of spending your days in the sun as a kid.
He frowned when you didn’t answer right away, “Anything I can do to help?”
Gently, you shook your head, “That’s very sweet of you, but… no, I’ll be okay.”
“I’ve got tylenol in my bag.”
That made you laugh the tiniest bit, much more authentically, “It’s okay, Clark. Thank you. I’m just… a little sad. Nothing I can’t deal with.”
“I have no doubt.” A soft smile graced his lips, “I’m sorry you’re sad. I wish I had some magic pill to cure that.”
“Talking to you has been really helpful,” You murmured, hoping he wouldn’t hear you, “It’s made this day a little brighter.”
Before Clark could respond, your coworker B-Dog came back around, looking for Clark, but saw that he was talking with you. Luckily, Clark let him know that you’d been the one to initially help him, so your coworker relinquished the records to you to ring him up. You began leading him to the register again, feeling a small air of confidence arise in you.
When you turned at the counter to ring up his items again, you noticed a small dusting of pink overcoming Clark’s cheeks. Just your luck, he’d obviously heard you before, but he thanked you anyway. Quickly, he swiped his card to pay, keeping his eyes to the floor.
After taking his purchase from you, he still made no move to exit. He stood there, somewhat awkwardly, staring at you with a sort of battle going on behind his eyes.
“S-Sorry.” Clark stammered, “I know this is very forward, so forgive me, but you’re very pretty.”
This time, you knew your cheeks were burning too as soon as the words left his lips. Your mind went haywire as you were now the one to stare right back at him. You mumbled something of a thank you as you felt it leave your throat, but it was incredibly incoherent.
Clark was the one to laugh this time, breathlessly, like he was trying to catch up with himself as well.
“I-I’m sorry. I know that was brash.”
“No, it’s okay. I just don’t get compliments very often,” You said quickly, trying to regain your composure, “Thank you… you’re handsome yourself.”
He smiled wide as the nervous energy expelled off of him, “Would you like to get lunch sometime with me? I know it can’t cure sadness, but maybe being near you would help a little. You know… like you said.”
Biting your lip, you nodded, “I’d love that.”
“Great!” Clark had said it a little too enthusiastically; too loud for the space. He cleared his throat again, speaking at a much more normal volume, “What day are you free next?”
“Friday,” You said, slightly winded, “I’m off Friday.”
“I could take you out on my lunch break. Guess it’ll even it out for disrupting your work time here.”
“This is far from disrupting me,” you said with a short laugh.
“How does noon sound?”
“Sounds like a date.”
You gave Clark a smile, the blush never leaving your cheeks.
“Yeah, sure does,” His voice cracked, “Um… how will I get in contact with you?”
Smirking, you thought of teasing him again, if only to make him blush more.
“I guess you can have my number.”
He smirked, shaking his head, presumably at himself, “I’ve forgotten how to talk to people.”
You were already writing your phone number on a post it note. You quickly tore it off and put the sticky side just below his pocket protector on his ill-fitted suit jacket. You weren’t normally this forward either, but it felt fun - exhilarating - to be so free with someone.
Clark’s smile got wider as he took off the sticky note and peeked at it before stuffing it in the pocket. He adjusted his glasses before looking back at you.
“Thank you again,” it was like velvet as he said your name, “See you Friday?”
“See you Friday.” You nodded.
Leaving it at that, he walked out the door, but not before turning back to look at you once again. You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you watching him trying to balance all of the things in his hands as he gave you a small wave.
The light of the day sort of shifted after that, and you were left back to work and your own thoughts. The grief had still been there, quieting for a while as you spoke to Clark, just waiting to rear its ugly head back out. It seemed to come crashing back down as soon as he was out of sight.
You excused yourself to the bathroom, just to give yourself a few extra moments alone and to allow some tears to escape.
It was strange always feeling this whiplash of emotions especially after something so good.
However, not even a minute after the tears had sprung, your phone dinged in your pocket. You dug it out, managing a smile as you read the message:
This is Clark! I look forward to helping you cure some sadness Friday!
Wiping away your tears with your palm, you felt as though he was already trying.
***
Friday came around much quicker now that you had something to look forward to. Most weeks, mundane as they were, tended to drag on. So, this was certainly a welcome change.
You woke up feeling a lot better than you had in a long time; you felt giddy and excited for what felt like the first time in forever.
Admittedly, you’d only been on a handful of dates, and none of them had gone very well, so you were hopeful this would change too.
The two of you had been texting back and forth since you’d given him your number. Most of your messages were about the date and other details, like where to meet. But sometimes, you’d both delve off into other things, like talking about your days or tiny flirty messages back and forth.
This felt different.
As you got ready, you made sure to wear some of your best clothes and put on the best smelling scent you had before walking out the door. You wanted to put in effort for yourself since it’d been so long, and in leaving the house, you felt fresh and confident.
The walk to the little cafe you decided to meet at felt excruciating long, like trudging through a dream. It felt like no matter how long you walked, you weren’t getting anywhere. You kept forward though, pure determination keeping you going.
You felt your phone ding in your hand and you lifted it to see the message:
Just made it. I’m in the third booth from the back.
Beside the text was a little winky face. Again, you smiled, luckily right around the corner.
Trying to be as confident as you felt, you strode into the little cafe. You scanned the room for only a second before your eyes landed on the tall figure - already seated at a booth - waving you over. You couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped your mouth as you made your way over to him. Awkwardly tall against the booth, he still clambered out of the seat to greet you, giving you the utmost respect.
“It’s nice to see you again.” He said as you approached, motioning for you to take the seat across from him, “I haven’t ordered yet. I thought I would wait for you.”
“Thank you Clark,” You said as you sat, “It’s nice to see you again too. And it’s even nicer of you to sacrifice your lunch break for me, no less.”
Clark gave you a wide, toothy grin, letting his dimples show and his accent pop out.
“It was nothin’. I usually take my time for lunch most days, anyway.”
Surrounded by his warmth, especially being in the booth with him, you felt a lot closer than you were; more intimate than talking in the record store.
You had some time to scour the menu before the waitress came by to take your orders. It was all mostly breakfast, so you settled for a small fruit salad and toast. Clark on the other hand got the works: a large breakfast, complete with eggs, toast, hashbrowns, bacon, and a small stack of pancakes.
As the waitress walked away to put in your orders, Clark sat back in the booth, giving you a funny look, “Fruit salad and toast?”
Again, you felt your cheeks burning, “There seems to be some judgement coming from you about my food choices.”
He shrugged, smirking, “A little. Doesn’t seem like much of a breakfast.”
“Well, it’s lunch,” you chided, “And it’s not much of a meal, but it’s better than the greasy breakfast food.”
Clark’s mouth fell open like you’d just said the most shocking thing in the world. You bit your lip, trying your best not to laugh as his hands started to frenzy around him.
“What?!” he guffawed, though a grin still evident on his face, “What’s wrong with greasy breakfast food? You can’t tell me you don’t like pancakes or waffles. Everyone likes one or the other! There’s, like, a whole stupid song about it…”
Another laugh escaped, “There’s nothing wrong with it, but it’s just not my preferred food choice.”
“But fruit salad and toast?”
“What’s to say I just wanted something small? This is my first date in a long time, after all, I’m a little nervous.”
Clark didn’t say anything for a moment, only letting his smile widen slowly. He cleared his throat, “I haven’t been on a date in a long time either. I suppose I’m a bit nervous too.”
“I’m relieved to know I’m not alone,” you murmured.
The conversation flowed easily for a while until your food was sat down in front of you a few minutes later. The country twang in his rich voice came and went as you’d spoken, sparking your next question.
“Where are you from, Clark?” You asked, beginning to prepare your toast the way you liked it, “Pa doesn’t sound like a Metropolis term.”
“Because it’s not.”
You glanced over at him to see that almost all of his eggs were already gone. Holding in a laugh, you let him continue.
Swallowing his food, he took in a deep breath like he was about to reveal a secret, “I’m from Kansas. My Ma and Pa raised me on their farm and I moved here a few years ago for work.”
The answer still felt vague, like there was more to be said, but you didn’t press him further.
Instead, you hummed back with a small smile, “That makes a lot of sense.”
“Being from Kansas?”
Clark shed his suit jacket off to the side, leaving him in just a light blue button down shirt. You watched as he rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, and you came to realize you were getting a little lost.
His arms were… huge. As he crossed them to get his other sleeves, it was like all of his muscles pulled at the thin fabric of his shirt, barely able to move and mold with him. The ill-fitted suit suddenly made even less sense as it obviously did him no justice.
The man in front of you looked at you, clearing his throat when he noticed you watching him without any words.
Speaking without volition, you blurted out, “Well, you definitely have a farm-boy physique. But... no, it's your southern hospitality.”
Clark laughed aloud, the room booming again.
He shrugged, trying to be modest, “I threw hay barrels around for a long time.”
“Do you miss Kansas?”
“Every day.” He admitted softly, "Sometimes, I wish I had stayed. But… most days I’m really proud of my work that I do here in Metropolis.”
“Then you must really like writing for the Daily Planet. You’ve gotten to interview some pretty cool people.”
A smirk graced his face as he cut into his pancakes. He hiked his glasses up his face with his finger, shielding himself for a second before speaking, “You’ve read my work?”
“I have. I like your articles about Superman.”
“Superman, huh?”
It was like his pace slowed significantly; taking slower and more deliberate bites of his food as his eyes perked up to you. He seemed to watch you and study your reaction.
You took a small bite of fruit, “You make him sound really… human. I like the thought of that; being able to do anything, but still having the capacity to be kind and compassionate.”
Clark nodded, speaking softly, “I think it’s important for people to see that too. He’s just like everyone else.”
It gave you pause again as you locked eyes, a charming smile gracing his lips. You couldn’t help but let yourself smile too. It was almost making your cheeks sting with how much he made your lips curl up, but you couldn’t stop it even if you wanted to.
“So,” he started as he wiped his mouth with a napkin, half of his food devoured, “You got a long round of questions. Mine starts now: Where are you from?”
And again, your mouth curved up, “I’ve lived in Metropolis all my life. I am a born and raised metropolitan.”
“We just call you folk city slickers back home.” He chuckled, “You must be close to your family then.”
Biting your lip, you knew something like this would eventually come up. There wasn’t a use in being so vague, so you came out with it, trying to mask the grief that started to travel through your body.
“I was. I don’t have any immediate family here. It was just me and my dad, but he passed away last year.”
Another look overtook Clark that you couldn’t place. You hadn’t told many people about your father, expecting a lot of pity looks, but this wasn’t that. He was looking at you like he understood very well. It had been difficult to talk about your father without getting emotional, but with Clark, you were able to keep calm.
“Gosh,” he murmured, “My condolences.”
You tried to smile through your growing sadness again, trying not to let the mood drop too far, “It’s still a little fresh, but I’ve been okay. Thank you.”
“Of course.” Picking up that you didn’t want to speak on the subject anymore, Clark gave you a polite nod before pivoting completely with his next question. “Have any pets?”
His bright eyes trailed you as he took in another big bite of his food, now blatantly gauging your reaction. You were grateful he didn’t press further about your past with your dad.
“Do fish count?”
“Sure,” he shrugged, “Do you like your job?”
“Are you investigating me?” you asked with a small chuckle. Clark didn’t answer, simply motioning for you to continue through his mouthful of food. “I like my job most days. I like it better than the office job I had before.”
He swallowed, “What do you like and dislike most about your job now?”
“You are investigating me,” you mused, “I love music and people who also love music. I don’t like sales tactics.”
"Is that what was wrong with the office job?"
"Kinda" you sighed, "Just needed a change of pace."
“So you take pride in sharing your passion with people.”
Your brows furrowed at him curiously as you nodded slowly, “I guess so.”
Another smile graced his face, making his dimples show.
The two of you ate and talked for a little longer with more basic getting-to-know-you questions. He asked things like what your favorite color was, or your favorite movie. Even with the most mundane questions, however, he looked as if he were filing every bit of information away for later.
His raven hair fell in a curl over his forehead as he moved, and all you could think of was reaching forward and putting it back in place. As much as it pained you, you kept your hands to yourself.
Towards the end of the date, Clark happily paid for the both of you, waving you off with a short, “You can pay for me next time.”
As you stood together from the small booth, you took a deep breath and asked him, “Can I walk you to work?”
He flashed you a toothy grin, “I’d love that.”
The short walk to the Daily Planet was filled with extra questions, but mainly it served as an excuse to be around him more. The feeling of warmth he radiated was addicting, making you wonder why herds of people weren’t following him around for it.
And all too soon, your walk came to an end.
Both of you stood in front of the massive building, making no moves to go further. Neither of you said anything for a long while as exchanged short, shy glances. You didn’t want the date to end, and you were silently cursing yourself for it being such a short meeting.
“When can I see you again?”
Clark was the first to break the ice, asking in a fast, hushed voice. Pushing his glasses up on his face nearly covered the blush that was forming on his cheeks.
“That is, if you want to see me…”
Your face was doing much of the same as you nodded back at him, “I do. What about Sunday?”
“We could have dinner?”
“It’s a date.”
Smiling sheepishly, Clark’s hummed, low and deep, just like the day you met him. Slowly, he upturned his hand to you, silently asking for you to take it. Once you did, he brought it up to his lips slowly, leaving a light kiss along your knuckles. You were already reeling from that, but as he pulled his hand away - in one swift movement - he leaned forward to leave a kiss on your cheek.
“This has been the best lunch I’ve had by far.”
“I’m glad. Very glad.” you stammered.
“See you Sunday?”
“Yeah," you breathed out, "See you Sunday.”
With another big smile, he backed away toward the entrance of the building, nearly stumbling when his eyes wouldn’t leave you. His large, clumsy limbs flailed as he waved at you, and you couldn’t help but giggle. You waited until he was inside before making your way back to your apartment.
At that moment, you felt like the luckiest person in Metropolis.
You’d been on dates with others - plenty, actually - but had never felt the way you did on that one. Not even by a mile. Even in just that short time, he made you feel seen and listened to without having to blurt out every aspect of your life.
Even being near him made you feel giddy, like a child with a crush.
What left you even more dumbfounded is that Clark seemed to like you back, like he felt just as happy and carefree with you. And that was refreshing.
Almost as if to solidify your thoughts, you got a text almost as soon as you closed your apartment door.
Hope you made it home safe. I can’t stop thinking about our date. I’m very excited for Sunday!
A bunch of emojis flooded in after: smiley faces, sunshine, and little hearts.
You held the phone close to your chest and let out a small squeal of joy. Clark really did have a way of curing sadness.
***
Sunday came before you knew it. In those near 48 hours, you were glued to your phone, responding and waiting on messages from Clark about when and where your Sunday date would be. You’d been texting even more since your date, and every text was like a breath of fresh air.
The two of you decided - well, Clark decided - on a nicer, more upskaled restaurant in the heart of downtown. He made reservations for the two of you and everything.
It wasn’t until Sunday morning leading up to your date that something started to feel… off.
Leading up to your date in the evening the both of you still had to work. To you, it was a nice distraction from the nerves pooling in your stomach. Your heart beat wildly against your chest the entire day any time you thought of the nerdy, dark-haired man.
Throughout the day, you and Clark continued to talk intermittently, but you notice he’d pulled back somewhat pretty early in the day. The messages he sent were still sincere and enthusiastic, but shorter and less frequent than they had been.
You thought that maybe he was just having a busy day. And very desperately, you tried not to think about what else it could be.
Once work was done, you had some time to go home and get ready for your date. However, that weird feeling that something was wrong kept popping up. So when you entered your apartment, you stood in the living room, typing out a message to Clark.
We’re still on for tonight?
You decided to take a shower as you waited for his answer.
Despite the strange feeling, you were beyond excited to go on another date with Clark. It had been a long time since you’d looked forward to something like this. You found yourself even wanting to put effort into how you looked; making yourself look as good as you felt. It wasn’t something you’d felt in such a long time.
After your shower, you could feel anxiety building as you checked your phone. Luckily, there was a text waiting for you from Clark:
Of course! I’m still at work, but I’ll get off soon!
A sigh of relief left you as you shot back another text, confirming that you’ll see him at the restaurant.
Before long, you were checking yourself out in the mirror, putting on your last touches of jewelry and accessories. Another weird feeling washed over you, despite Clark’s confirmation, but you thought of it just being your nerves.
As you locked up your apartment, you took in a large breath, looking at the time and making sure that you were still on time for the reservation. You glanced at your messages, but the screen remained blank after the last message you sent.
Although you didn’t know him that well, it didn’t seem normal.
Still, you sent another quick text, telling him you were on your way to the restaurant, hoping he would respond to you when he could.
Throughout the train ride downtown, the feeling that something wasn’t right was growing deeper in your abdomen. Especially with the radio silence from Clark. It had already been almost an hour since you’d last heard from him and normally he wouldn’t have gone that long without sending you something back already.
Still, you persisted.
At the restaurant, you kept a brave face as you approached the counter. Part of you thought that maybe your date was already there, waiting for you at the table he reserved. But it was no such luck as you looked around the mostly vacant restaurant.
You smiled at the hostess, giving her the name “Kent” and the reservation time. You felt a small rush of relief as she nodded to you, leading you back to a booth. She placed down two menus before giving you a polite smile back.
“Still waiting for your guest?”
You tried to sound confident, “Yes, he’ll be here soon.”
She gave you a solemn look before nodding and taking your drink order. Still hopeful, you decided to order a glass of red wine. As she walked away, you looked around at the few couples that littered the place before pulling out your phone.
You sent another message, telling him you were there. But there was nothing in return.
Feeling your heart pounding in your chest, you didn’t want to give up just yet. Although something felt wrong, you knew Clark wouldn’t put in effort to make reservations just to stand you up. He’d been so sweet to you that this didn’t seem like his character.
But then again, you didn’t know him like that.
Against your better judgement, you still waited. And waited. And waited.
After an hour, you felt more embarrassed than anything. The waitress had come up and asked you if you were waiting still, and each time you would nod, asking for another glass of red wine. Three glasses later, the waitress set a small appetizer down in front of you for free.
Your heart couldn’t take it anymore.
Just as you were gathering your things, ready to go to the front to pay, your phone dinged. Reaching for it, you finally got some form of an answer by text.
I’m so sorry. I got so caught up at work, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you–
Without reading the rest of the message, you stuffed your phone in your purse, not wanting to read any excuses. You finally asked for the check and paid for your wine, keeping your head low as you slowly made your way out of the restaurant.
The waitress, and you were sure any of the patrons, were giving you sad looks, only making you feel worse. You took a mental note that you would never go there again out of pure embarrassment.
You held your tears in until you were fully out of view of any prying eyes, but as soon as you were out the door, the dam broke and it was like a waterfall fell over your cheeks. You tried to wipe them away to no avail, only for more to continuously fall.
As you walked home, you tried to cover your face with your hands, trying to focus on simply getting to the apartment. The subway had too many eyes, and you didn’t want anyone else to see you. With your eyes casted to the ground, the walk felt like an eternity.
Halfway home, you passed by some men sitting on some apartment steps. You kept your head low, hoping no one could see your tear stained cheeks. Still, a low whistle sounded from one of the men who stood up, trying to get your attention. Typical of a lot of men in Metropolis, but you never budged, you simply ignored them, continuing on your walk.
But a little ways away, you could hear footsteps behind you and low murmuring as the men talked to each other. You tried to quicken your pace, feeling that they were trailing behind you fairly quickly.
Your heart started to thud fast against your chest as you lengthened your stride. Easily, however, they were able to keep up, some of them being much faster.
“Hey!” One of the men chimed behind you, “Where you going?”
You kept walking, ignoring him again. With just your luck most of the shops you passed were closed and no one else seemed to notice or care that these men were following you. Taking in a large breath, you remained forward, using all of your strength to speed up.
“This is a nice view back here. I would love to see the front.”
Another man said, or maybe the same one. It didn’t matter though, and you didn’t dare to look behind you.
You were almost at a job, but judging by their footsteps, you knew they were still gaining on you. The tears that you’d been trying to keep in were freely flowing down your cheeks, creating a harsh sting against the cool night air.
As a hand caught your shoulder, you let out a yelp, and in an instant, he showed up.
Superman.
You heard the commotion before you even had the chance to turn around. There was a smack and a groan as some of the bystanders around you finally started to turn their heads. As you finally looked behind you, there was Superman with his hand around the neck of who you could only assume was the man that grabbed your shoulder.
From where you stood, you couldn’t see the strong man’s face, but you knew it was Superman just by everything else. You could obviously see how big and tall he was, but you could also feel the presence and power he had.
The three other men were watching in horror as the large meta-human stood incredibly still, his cape flapping lightly in the wind as if he were waiting for them to speak first.
“Fellas.” His voice was loud and pointed. He let the man by the neck go, shoving him towards his friends, “Why don’t you run home?”
As the men scampered off, Superman watched for a moment, crossing his arms in front of him before turning to face you.
“Are you okay, ma’am?”
Words and thoughts weren’t coming easily as you stared possibly for too long. The super hero in front of you started to smile wide, dimples poking out of the corners of his lips.
A soft buzzing noise began in the back of your brain, low and soft, like it was trying to grab your attention. Maybe it was the combination of everything that had happened that day; the shoddy communication with Clark, him standing you up, the men, and now Superman, but you couldn’t hold your tears in any longer. The dam broke once again as tears spilled from your eyes.
“I don’t know,” you sobbed.
Superman’s eyes softened as he uncrossed his arms, making himself just a bit smaller for you.
“It’s okay to not know.” The large meta-human motioned to a bench along the sidewalk about a block away, “Want to talk?”
Nodding at him, he gave you a kind smile before leading you over to sit. As he sat beside you, you could immediately feel the inhuman warmth radiating off of him. It felt almost familiar but not enough to come to mind.
Instead, you thought of your father.
Superman didn’t say anything or make you feel like you needed to talk back at him. He simply sat with you and waited until you were ready.
When you did finally speak, you tried to deflect off of your sad feelings, “Aren’t you supposed to be out saving the world?”
The question came out more accusatory than you’d wanted, but it didn’t seem phased as he answered.
“The world starts with the people in it.”
Without pressing, he waited again for you to continue talking. You took a deep breath, shaking your head at how ridiculous it was to be telling Superman of all people your mundane problems.
“This sounds so stupid saying this to you,” your laugh was wet as you tried to gain composure again, continuing, “I got stood up by a guy I really liked. And then this happened. But… this guy felt really different. Now, I’m not so sure.”
“That’s not stupid.” His voice became quieter like it was just for you, “The only thing that’s stupid is the guy that stood you up.”
You sighed, nodding, “Guess so. I got so frustrated and embarrassed. I think he tried to apologize, but I didn’t read his messages.”
“You have a right to be angry,” Superman caught your gaze and you weren’t sure if you ever noticed that his eyes were blue, “Regardless of if he apologizes, you don’t have to accept anything else from someone that wronged you.”
You thought for a moment.
“I don’t want to feel angry though, and maybe that’s naive. But everything was going really well until a few hours ago.”
Superman sighed, cautiously placing a hand on your shoulder. That same warm familiar feeling washed over you once again as you leaned in to him.
“I can’t offer you much, but I can offer you my opinion.” Nodding lamely, you urged him to continue, “It sounds cliche, but trust yourself. He miscommunicated and made you upset, rightfully so. If you feel like this bond you’ve made with him has severed beyond repair, don’t read the message, and don’t waste anymore energy on just some guy. But on the other hand, maybe he had a valid excuse and now he’s trying his best to apologize. It’s ultimately up to you to decide whether you give him the benefit of the doubt or not.”
For a long moment, you stared at the super human before you in complete awe. You’d looked up to him for a while, and here he was in the flesh giving you advice.
“What would you do?”
Superman laughed, his voice echoing through the city.
“I have a bad habit of giving everyone the benefit of the doubt. It’s hard not to want to see the good in people. And who knows, maybe now he knows that he should’ve made time for you.”
You didn’t say anything to that, studying him again. The low buzzing in your head was getting slightly stronger; his blue eyes and dark hair were setting off sparks of something that you couldn’t place. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t grasp what was so familiar.
After a few moments, your head started to ache. You shut your eyes for a second to recalibrate, giving up on trying to figure anything else out for the night.
Certainly, he noticed you taking the moment, “You should rest.”
He stood up from the bench and outstretched his hand to you. Gently, you took his offered hand, standing to face him. For someone so strong, he was incredibly gentle as he helped you up. He gave you a wide smile, standing tall once you were on your feet.
“Thank you, Superman.” You sighed, “You’ve done so much for me tonight. Not only saving me, but taking the time to talk to me too. I can’t thank you enough.”
“You’re welcome, ma’am, but you don’t need to thank me. I’m just a guy trying to do what’s right.” He nodded to you once, beaming at you, “If you ever need to talk again, I’m just a shout away.”
You nodded back and before you knew it, Superman was flying off into the evening sky.
Swiftly walking the rest of the way to your apartment, you felt more at ease than you had before. Once you got inside, you felt like you could breathe again finally.
Still feeling utterly conflicted, you cleaned yourself off and threw your outfit in the hamper before finally crashing onto your couch. You didn’t let the tears well in your eyes this time as you pulled out your phone.
Thinking over your conversation with Superman, you mulled over what you wanted to do with Clark.
On one hand, he had stood you up. Plain and simple, that was a really awful thing to do. You’d felt so embarrassed and stupid at such a nice restaurant that it would make sense to cut him off much like he did for you.
But Clark felt… different. That feeling you got while you were with him was unlike anything else you’d felt with someone before. He’d been so sweet before that there must’ve been something wrong for him to not show up.
You thought of what Superman said about giving people the benefit of the doubt. And you came to the conclusion that if the most powerful man on earth could give people a chance, you could too.
Finally, you opened up your phone to your unopened message from Clark.
I’m so incredibly sorry. I haven’t stopped thinking about you, but I’m still caught at work. I hate to think you’re waiting for me, and I understand if this is inexcusable. It’s not my intention to leave you hanging. I’d love to try again.
You sighed heavily before typing out a reply: Can we talk?
Mere seconds after you hit send, your phone was ringing. It almost would’ve been funny had the situation been a little lighter.
“Hello?” Clark sounded first, your name slipping quietly from his lips.
“Hey.” You said timidly.
“Listen, before you say anything, I’m really sorry. I-I know I messed up really big. I get caught up with work like that sometimes, and I should’ve warned you instead of making you think I was leaving you high and dry. It’s not an excuse for being a jerk, but I thought I should at least offer you an apology.”
Tears pricked at the back of your eyes again, but none fell. You were too tired to let anything else out, “I waited over an hour for you, Clark.”
“Gosh,” He sighed, “I… I understand if that was too much.”
“I really like you… but right now, after this, I-I really don’t know.”
“It’s okay to not know.” He murmured.
Lightning zapped at your brain again and you furrowed your eyebrows, trying to shake it away as you didn’t want to think too hard. Clark waited silently on the other end of the line for you to speak. Hesitantly, you took in another deep breath.
“Clark?”
“Yes?”
He answered like you took his breath away
“Can we try again… like you said?”
He let out an audible sigh - like he was finally releasing the air he’d been holding, “Of course. Yes, we can try again. Thank you. Wherever you’d like and whenever you want, I’m all yours. I’ll even take off work for the day.”
You let out the smallest laugh, “You don’t have to do that much.”
Clark let out a hum of thought over the phone like music to your ears, “What about now?”
Your eyebrows nearly shot to the ceiling.
“Now?”
Over the receiver, a low chuckle sounded, “I can pick up some wine and a midnight snack?”
Your heart began to speed and stutter, your head already beginning to whirl. In your silence, Clark’s voice dropped even lower to a murmur, speaking again before you had the chance to overthink it.
“You can say no to tonight and we’d still make time for another date. I just want to make things up to you.”
“Okay…” you bit your lip, beginning to feel that giddy feeling again as before, “But you better bring a red.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Once you hung up, it only took about fifteen minutes before there was a knock at your door. You ran out of your bathroom to answer the door, having thrown on a more casual outfit than your pajamas.
At the door stood a very disheveled Clark, like he’d been running around. His curly dark hair was in disarray and he was still in his ill-fitted work suit. He held out a bottle of red wine, a bag of snacks, and a large bouquet of flowers. You looked at him incredulously as he beamed a large smile back at you.
“Can I come in?” He said breathlessly.
A giggle escaped you as you stepped aside, letting the tall man walk through your door. He placed the items he brought on the nearest surface except for the flowers, which he held back out to you.
Clark said your name quietly, catching your gaze, “I can’t express to you how genuinely sorry I am. Any excuse I give is not enough. I wanted to be there, but I wasn’t.”
Carefully, you took the flowers from him, but before you could pull away, he enveloped your hands with his. His strong fingers squeezed yours with a soft pressure, gazing into your eyes with his deep ones.
“You’re here now,” you whispered.
His eyes flickered down to your lips. Your heart started to dance in your chest as he placed one of his hands along your cheek. He was hesitant, like he was testing the waters with you. Although he wasn't fully forgiven yet, you couldn't find yourself to pull away.
“Can I kiss you?” His voice was just above a whisper.
You nodded once, but he didn’t move immediately.
Ever so slowly, you pressed your lips together, like you were savoring every second. It was a quick, small beck before you pulled away to look at each other.
And for a moment, things felt blissful again.
No words needed to be spoken as you leaned in again, pulling him to you. The second kiss was longer, more intimate and slower… hungrier. But he didn’t make any moves to go any further. He was content with your lips, keeping you grounded as he molded to yours. He began to smile into the kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist.
The two of you kissed for a few moments longer, only pulling away when you needed to get air.
Soon, the two of you were sitting on your couch with two glasses of wine in hand, eating your snacks as you slowly fell into a comfortable rhythm of talking and getting to know each other again. It felt like you could talk about everything and nothing with him all at once.
And after a while, it was like the forgotten dinner never happened.
Sometime in the night, Clark stood up from your couch to inspect the bookshelf of records you owned.
“Golly, you have quite the collection,” He mused aloud.
Clark walked over to the record player and carefully opened it up. The last record you’d been playing - The Righteous Brothers - was queued already and Clark simply pressed the play button.
“It was both me and my father’s collection.” you said as music started flowing through your speakers.
“Unchained Melody.” Clark hummed, “My Pa loves this one.”
“Mine did too.”
Clark outreached his hand to you and for a moment, you had a flash of deja-vu back to your conversation with Superman. That moment with the super human felt like a lifetime ago, but in reality it had only been a few short hours. That low buzzing started in your head again, but this time, you could feel something poking and prodding as you looked at the man in glasses before you.
But the thought that crossed your mind was impossible.
Instead of thinking too hard, you took Clark’s hand, letting him help you off the couch. Ever patient, he waited for you to get closer before wrapping his arms securely around your waist, placing his chin on your shoulder as you swayed to the song.
“If you'll let me fix things,” He whispered, “I want to be yours if you’ll have me.”
You smiled wide, nodding.
“I’d love that.”
end a.n. believe it or not, this is only the first part! if you made it this far, let me know what you thought or if you would like to join my superman taglist! I like feedback, and tbh, if you have your own ideas for this series, send them my way!
(taglist).
Benito knows he needs to make things up to you, but his fraternity brothers and the "biggest party of the year" keep getting in the way of that. Or maybe he's just too scared to approach you. That is, until you show up as Luis' arm candy.
Last Part | Part 6 | Next Part
wc. 7.1k | My Masterlist
notes. Since the DAY I announced that I was thinking of posting this series, you guys had this exact chapter basically predicted haha so shoutout to this anon here from a month ago and @zoomingspark888 who have been my biggest ops!! I hope you guys like it!
tags. bad bunny x fem!reader, slow burn, angst, college AU, mentions of casual sex (always consentual) and drugs and alcohol, mentions of being drunk, some violence, but doesn't get to explicit. the both of you switch between english and spanish often, spanish isn't translated, and spanish is part google translate/part research
The party approached before he was ready for it.
Benito had been in a deep state of depression that he couldn’t seem to get out of anymore.
It was idiotic, but he was giving up. On everything.
He hadn’t seen you in a week, and it was killing him slowly but surely. You’d been this beacon of light any time he saw you, and you’d been helping him so much that now it felt like his entire world had fallen into utter darkness. It was his fault that he’d had you so close and let you slip through his fingers like sand.
He knew he needed to apologize to you. You were always the one to initiate fixing things with him, but he didn’t understand how you did it. He had all the confidence in the world except for when it came to you, and then all of a sudden he wasn’t just a mess, but a hopeless, blubbering mess.
The look you’d given him before you left him in his room was one he never wanted to see again; so pained and broken, like you’d finally given up on him. And although that’s what he thought he wanted, now that it was his reality, he felt worse than death knowing that you were upset with him.
He didn’t want to party. He didn’t want to fuck. He just wanted to see you.
But he couldn’t do it.
Because he’d just fuck it all up again.
There wasn’t much he could do about the party to his misfortune; everything was set up in his living space for him to participate: the food, the “decorations”, and the alcohol. It wasn’t that big a space, truthfully but once all of the other frats started to join in along the Greek row, the entire block was going to be a free-for-all.
The party was slated to start on Friday night after everyone was done with classes and go until Sunday before everyone left for the break. The entire fraternity was buzzing around the house getting things set up and ready for everyone to show up, and of course, Benito was roped into it by proximity.
He’d stayed in bed for most hours of the day up until his brothers physically dragged him out of bed, forcing him to help. Mainly, he stayed in the kitchen, shuffling around some of the liquor bottles they had out on the counter and stacking and restacking cups.
Before the party even started, the brothers all decided to take a celebratory shot before people started coming through. The guys took the rum they had out already and made themselves the shot as well as a mixed drink to get the weekend started.
But Benito wasn’t really feeling like getting wasted. He’d done it the week before up until he saw you, and after that, he’d quit drinking again. He’d wanted to stay sober in case he ever got the courage to speak to you again, even though it hadn’t happened yet. So, when the boys handed him the little shot glass, he waited until everyone around him was distracted enough for him to shoot it down the kitchen sink.
Finally, the people started showing up right around 8pm exactly. First it was just a few people here and there, but slowly, as more people started to show, every part of the living space was filling up. A lot of people brought extra drinks, so the little bar was now filled to the brim with new liquor bottles, mixers, and cases of beer.
At first, Benito was still in his slump; he wasn’t up for being sociable and getting out there with all of these people. After the “shot”, he fixed himself soda-water with lime to make it look like he was still getting hammered all day like everyone else.
Some girls flocked to him, greeting him flirtatiously and offering him drinks and dances. Although the girls were nice, Benito politely declined any offers given to him.
He still started to feel the essence of a buzz, but only after a few dances. He was feeling warm, and honestly a little happy for the first time in a while after a full day of being forced to socialize. He tried to keep his mind off of the things that had happened the past week, and for a while it was working. He was able to keep distracted by attractive people and faux drinks and the forced fun time.
When Saturday rolled around, the night was still young for these frat people. Some started to play some drinking games while others were outside smoking and bouncing through the houses.
Benito had opted to play some of the games, and during one of them, he stood next to a woman named Lacy and he’d hit it off pretty well. She was dressed to the nines, and she’d complimented Benito several times on his outfit, making him blush. He’d talk between the games and realized quickly that she didn’t bat for the same team.
It helped that she wasn’t drinking at all either. Instead, the two of them teamed up for beer pong and spent a lot of time talking and faking their way through drinks. Although they didn’t win their games, it was nice for him to click with someone on the same wavelength.
It was not you, but it was something to fill the void for a moment.
When the conversation turned to girls, Benito almost immediately started spilling out everything about you to his new friend.
It’d been the only time he’d expressed any of it out loud other than to you, and he was certainly not holding back as he let out the entire story of you and him throughout the day.
Lacy didn’t seem to be listening much, but every once in a while, she would nod her head to Benito like she did understand. It was at least better than most of his brothers, who didn’t listen to him ever.
When he was done, he let out a massive sigh like he’d finally gotten everything off his chest. Yet, everything still fucking hurt.
“Así que eres un desastre,” Lacy mused.
“¿Qué carajo? Acabas de conocerme.” Benito rolled his eyes, taking the tiniest hit of her pen that she handed to him, “O sea sí. No tienes que decirlo así.”
“Ella suena demasiado buena para ti.”
“Sí, lo sé.”
“Pero, a ella no parece importarle.” Lacy shrugged, “Me parece que te estás saboteando a ti mismo. Y si no haces nada, la perderás a ella.”
Benito sighed, whispering mainly to himself, “I know you’re right.”
Lacy hadn’t answered him, having no clue of what he said in English, she gave him a pat on the back.
People were coming and going as they pleased, but Benito stayed in his own house, trying to not spread himself too thin. He was posted with Lacy in the corner beside the TV that played music, dancing to some sort of jazz fusion mix.
After their conversation, he’d pulled out his phone and had been staring at your contact for about an hour. It would’ve been easy for him to go upstairs and simply call you, or at least try. Lacy even mocked him a couple of times, trying to press the button for him, but his heart would hammer and his hands would shake, and he would chicken out every time.
Sometime in the evening, Luis moseyed up to the curly haired man and his new friend, clapping Benito on the shoulder, with a hard thud, “Espero que estés pasando una buena noche, Beno. Estoy tan contento de que hayas decidido aparecer.”
“No es que realmente pudiera elegir, Luis.” Benito said with a small, fake smile, shrugging to the president before him.
“Lo que sea por un amigo querido de toda la vida.” The boricuan almost rolled his eyes. However, before Benito could say anything, Luis piped up again, folding his arms across his chest like before. “Tu amiga fue muy amable el otro día. Decidí invitarla a salir esta noche para darle las gracias.”
Benito felt a huge stab in his chest. He couldn’t have possibly been talking about you.
“¿Qué dijiste?”
Naively, he thought for a moment that Luis was messing with him like he always did. But it was like the other man saw the blatant panic in Benito’s eyes and played into it.
The president shrugged, giving a smirk, “Pensé a ella que le gustaría tomarse un día libre. Después de todo, ha estado trabajando muy duro como ayudante de profesora.”
“Luis…” Benito warned.
As if on cue, Luis looked down at his phone and then turned his head toward the entry where a familiar head of hair was already slipping through the crowd, keeping your head up as you were looking for him. He waved at you and you gave the tiniest one back.
For only a moment, you and Benito locked eyes. He nearly froze in his spot, thinking he might’ve been seeing things. Maybe he was more drunk than he thought.
You waved at him politely too and shuffled through the crowd up to him and Luis.
The other man wrapped his arms around your shoulders as he had the last time and bent down to your ear, still loud enough for Benito to hear, “Te ves deslumbrante.”
And he was so right.
You were in a tube top with some high waisted jeans and kitten heels. You were also dawning some makeup, which Benito hadn’t gotten a chance to see you in yet. It was kinda funny, as you looked slightly out of place as you clutched your arms close to your body. Even then, you were so incredibly gorgeous that he almost forgot how to speak.
You thanked Luis as your cheeks flushed before turning back to Benito.
“Hi.” You said to him at last.
Your voice broke, like you were trying to sound happy, but failed at the last second.
Benito swallowed hard, “Hi.”
“Todos nosotros,” Luis interjected quickly, “Vamos a echarnos un trago, ¿no?”
And before he knew it, the other man was escorting you away to the kitchen where all of the drinks had been left out on the counter. Benito almost felt like he was floating as he trailed behind the two of you, feeling his insides jittering like they were being tossed around.
Something wasn’t right. He knew Luis didn’t have you there for the right reasons, but Benito couldn’t prove that.
Luis was speaking to you in hushed tones close together so Benito couldn’t make out what he said even if he’d tried. You were laughing though at whatever he said, and the curly haired man couldn’t help but feel an abnormal bout of anger.
At the kitchen counter, Luis picked up a random bottle and started to pour three humongous shots into some red solo cups.
Benito brought a hand up to mess with the back of his neck, taking the moment to talk to you while the other man was distracted, “I didn’t think I’d see you here.”
“Um, yeah… This guy and I have been talking,” You jabbed a finger at Luis, “And he invited me. I’ve never been to a party like this before… it’s big.”
A small laugh escaped him, but only to mask the hurt he was feeling, “This is the biggest one. All of the frats join.”
You nodded awkwardly and bit your lip, causing Benito to flashback to the moment you kissed him; pulling your chin down in order to bite down on the same lip. He could feel his cheeks getting red at the memory, but quickly shook it away.
“You’re not happy to see me?” You smiled like you were joking, but there was something behind your eyes that made him wonder if you were actually asking.
“Of course I’m happy to see you,” He murmured your name. With a sigh, he tried, “Look, I didn’t mean–-”
“¡Aquí están!” Luis placed the shots in each of your hands.
Benito sighed, but the other man placed his cup up in the air for everyone to cheer. You placed your drink beside his and Benito reluctantly did the same after a few moments of debate.
Having been doing it all day and night, Benito didn’t actually take the shot. He’d gotten good at faking it; letting some dribble down his chin before placing a hand over the cup and putting it to his side to later pour down the sink.
He watched you on the other hand actually take it.
Because it was so big, you managed to choke it down in three large gulps. You made a face of disgust that made his heart stutter in his chest; your eyes closed and your nose scrunched even more than normal.
Luis was also more preoccupied with making another drink for you and himself to notice Benito place his drink behind him, ready to discard later. But for that second, Benito caught your eyes. You stood there smiling at him knowingly and he brought up a finger to his lips, nodding his head at Luis. You gave him a nod before you stared at each other for a moment.
Slowly, his eyes trailed down your body, taking in the outfit you were wearing. It made his breath hitch. It was just another cruel reminder of how much he’d fucked up.
Once the other drinks were poured and in your hands, Luis was quick to sweep you away from the kitchen without another word to Benito. He knew you were too polite to not stop him, and Benito wasn’t going to trail after you; not when you didn’t want him to. Still, Benito felt like his chest was going to cave in.
He felt extremely conflicted; happy that he was able to talk to you, but a little surprised you were there and feeling upset that he wasn’t the one to bring you to this party. He was upset he hadn’t called you like he’d been dying to.
Even still, he watched the both of you, even after he rejoined his new friend in the living room. Something wasn’t sitting right with him about you being with Luis, and although you didn’t want him anymore, he knew he couldn’t just let these warning signs go.
***
It was almost like clockwork that every time you glanced over at Benito, you would catch him staring at you and Luis. He felt annoyed at being caught by you, however, he was more upset at himself for looking at you in the first place.
Benito noticed you drinking more and more. It had been a few hours since you got there, and slowly throughout the night, you were being offered drinks by Luis and some of his friends. A couple of them even fed you shots, which made Benito’s blood boil.
He tried to be inconspicuous as he watched you, not wanting to seem like he had some sort of control over you. As the night went on, he watched you get more and more inebriated, but at the same time, you looked like you were having the time of your life. Benito was happy you were taking the opportunity to have some fun outside of school, but he didn’t like the crowd you were with.
Even if it was his crowd.
After a while, it just became blatantly obvious he was staring. He was telling himself it was for your safety, but even that was a thin veil that nearly anyone who saw him looking could see through.
“Deberías parar de mirar fijamente.” Lacy said when she noticed him looking your way once again.
Benito sighed and peeled his eyes away from you as Luis had led you to the kitchen again. You’d sort of stumbled over your own feet, and hitched forward. You’d caught yourself on Luis, who just laughed it off, and didn’t even turn to check if you were okay.
“Es difícil no hacerlo.” Benito practically growled.
This time, while he had his back turned towards you, Lacy’s eyes drifted over to you for him, mostly out of curiosity. However, her eyes immediately widened.
“Oh. Mierda, Benito. Alégrate de haber apartado la mirada...”
Without looking, he could already feel it in his bones of what was happening behind him. Luis had been drifting closer to you all night, and it had only been a matter of time before he took advantage.
Just as he feared, he turned to see the burly man hunched over in the corner of the kitchen and locking his lips with yours. His arms were wrapped tightly around your waist as your arms dangled lazily around his shoulders, your eyes closed as you held him. He had you against the counter, trying his best to wiggle his way between your legs as he hoisted you up.
A pang shot through Benito’s chest again.
Suddenly, it hit him what that feeling was he’d been feeling the entire time: jealousy.
He’d never felt jealous of anyone before. But now, it was loud and clear. He was jealous of Jace. He was jealous of that one man you slept with. And he was beyond jealous of Luis.
Red hot anger was raging through Benito’s body as he couldn’t help but stare and watch and think that that should’ve been him. And yet there wasn’t anything he could do. This was your choice and you weren’t choosing him.
Not being able to handle it anymore, Benito excused himself from Lacy and made his way upstairs. Without much thought, other than he needed fresh air before he stole his room back to go to bed, he walked out onto the balcony.
Several people were already up there, but they all kept to themselves in one of the corners, not even poking their heads up as Benito burst through the door. He wished he were alone so he could’ve yelled and screamed - and for all intents and purposes, he could’ve gone somewhere where he could’ve done just that - but he didn’t want to cause a scene or bring anymore embarrassment to himself.
Instead, he went to the other corner and grasped the railing as tight as he could until his knuckles turned white.
He felt stone cold sober, and he wasn’t sure if that was for the best or not, because he could feel every single emotion coursing through his veins. Part of him wanted to cry, seeing the girl he was so desperately falling for, kissing someone else. And what was worse is that you seemed to enjoy it.
The other part of him wanted to laugh, because this is what he’d deserved. This was all the karma that was coming back to him for all of the years he’d been doing whatever he wanted. This was for not taking the opportunities to make things right when he could. He knew he needed to see that.
Either way, it was still a cruel joke from God.
He wasn’t sure how long he stayed up on the balcony, but he at least stayed long enough for the other people to disperse and go back inside, leaving him to his own devices.
By then, he had calmed down enough to not yell or scream, but instead closed his eyes and let a low rumble sound in his chest. It took him a few long minutes to get him to really cool down, but eventually his breathing slowed and his mind wasn’t blaring as much anymore.
Just before he could turn on his heels to go back downstairs, the balcony door flew open and you stumbled forward and collided with the railing. Your knees and arms hit the metal with a loud thud and Benito couldn’t help but wince.
“Ten cuidado, Mami.”
You turned your head to his words, but it’s like your eyes didn’t register as fast. You closed and reopened them several times. When you realized who it was, you frowned and turned your head away, though it lulled to the side. You were barely keeping yourself upright.
Suddenly more red flags were popping up in his mind.
“Where is Luis?”
“No lo sé. Creo que se fue.”
Another sort of anger flared in Benito’s chest; a seething that he knew all too well. But that feeling didn’t matter then, because you were about to tumble over the railing if you didn’t have your hands on it.
Trying not to overstep boundaries, he took a cautious step toward you, holding out his arm in front of you.
“Are you alright?”
You shrugged as you avoided his gaze, “A little tipsy.”
“Más que achispado.” He corrected you. He took another step towards you, still giving you some distance, but leaned against the cool metal, “How much have you had to drink tonight?”
“Don’t know,” you said, rolling your head back, “A few drinks.”
Your words were slurring horribly and your head kept lulling to the side. Under different circumstances, it would’ve been quite cute and funny. But now, it was causing concern.
You spoke again before he could, “I thought you left too.”
“I thought about it,” He scoffed, “Parece que tú y Luis os lleváis muy bien.”
“Who?”
His eyes furrowed together, “Luis? The guy you were… kissing?”
It took a few seconds for you to understand, but you nodded. Underneath you, your knee buckled once, causing you to stagger. Benito took another large step closer to you as you gripped harder, “I guess so. How do you know him?”
Another step, “He’s the frat president... Always kinda been a dick.”
“Is he the one that kissed me?”
“Yeah…” Benito’s face fell; it wasn’t good you were losing your short term, “We should go inside and get you some water. I’m sure Luis wouldn’t mind you staying–.”
“What’s your fucking deal?”
You clamored, shocking him. It’s like with your inhibitions lowered, you were finally letting out some anger. You turned your body toward him, but kept a hand on the metal,
“He kissed me and I didn't… didn’t know what else to do. I just wanted to be like you and forget everything too... but I could do it. Actúas como si no hubiera estado llorando todas las noches por tu culpa. I really thought what we had was kinda special, you know? I don’t really want us to forget each other.”
Benito knew you weren’t exactly making the most sense because of the state you were in, but understood what you were saying.
His chest tightened as tears started slipping from your eyes.
You sniffled continuing on,
“I wish you’d met my abuela. She would’ve loved you. She would have all the answers for you like she did for me. Crees que tu vida es un desastre, but I wish you could see you the way I do. You’re intelligent and kind. Eres sincero y honesto. But you’re… sabotaging yourself. And I don’t understand why. I love everything about you, but you’re so set on destroying–”
Your knee buckled again and you stumbled.
Benito didn’t hesitate that time to surge forward and grab you by the waist, attempting to keep you upright. You seemed to automatically melt in his arms as you wrapped your own around his middle, pressing your face against his chest in a sort of hug.
For a moment, Benito froze with you in his arms.
You were extending an olive branch.
You weren’t saying that you forgave him for hurting you, but you also weren’t pushing or running away from him. You were quite literally pulling him closer. He knew he’d been so selfish and he wasn’t sure how he was going to make that up to you, but he needed to try.
So he wasn’t going to push you away either. Never again.
“I’m so sorry,” He said your name with sincerity, engulfing you fully in his arms. He placed his cheek on top of your head, “I was trying so hard not to hurt you that I ended up doing just that… No quería ser tu Eros. No si eso significaba que no confiarías en mí.”
“Necesitas aprender más sobre la mitología griega.” You shook your head, “Psyche fought hard for Eros. She loved him unconditionally.”
Benito hugged you tighter, knowing just how much you’d fought for him too. He bent to your ear and spoke softly for only you,
“Please. I’ll do anything. Aprenderé más sobre la mitología griega. Te prepararé té todos los días. Me concentraré en mis notas si es lo que quieres. Whatever you want me to do to let me make it up to you. I miss you… so much.”
You trailed your hands up from his waist to his shoulders and then around his neck, pulling him close to you until his forehead was pressed against yours.
“I miss you too.”
He looked at you through his eyelashes and sighed something of relief.
Benito wasn’t sure how much you would remember, and he was sure there was a conversation to be had when you were sober, but for now, he was seizing the moment as you needed him. He let the moment last a second longer; his eyes closed as his head rested against yours.
He smiled as he pulled away, though he held you steady by your shoulders, “¿Alguna vez has estado así de borracha?”
You shook your head, “No.”
He chuckled, “Lo estás manejando bien.”
“It’s kinda scary.” You were leaning your entire weight against him, grasping at the collar of his shirt unwittingly.
“Ai, no,” he whispered, pushing some strands of your hair from your forehead, “Estoy aquí mismo, baby, I’m not going to let anything happen.”
You held onto him tightly as he began guiding you to the balcony door.
As much as he would’ve loved to have you sleep in his room - and it was closest to the balcony - he knew that it wasn’t the safest option for you. There were people and strangers coming and going all around the house. It hadn’t bothered him for his own sake, but you needed water and no one to interrupt your rest.
As you both reentered the house, you were met with a wave of sounds that hadn’t been as intense outside. You groaned and buried your face into Benito’s side, trying to cover one of your ears, but even that was proving to be difficult to you. He felt extremely concerned for you as you were very slowly, but surely, losing consciousness right before his eyes.
He practically carried you down the stairs, ignoring anyone who called to him or asked any questions. He was very clearly not in a place to stop and mingle, so he kept determined to get you outside where he would drive you home.
It was rare that he drove his car - it was old and beat up and only used for sex way too often - but it seemed to be the only option. It wasn’t safe for you to stay at the frat house, and it wasn’t safe for you to get in a random Uber, so he was going to take you home whether you allowed that or not.
But just his luck is that Benito made it about ten feet from the kitchen with you when his president caught him.
“¡Oye, Ocasio!” Luis yelled over the crowd, “Esa es mi cita a la que estás tocando.”
Some people turned their heads while the majority kept dancing around them. It was hard to move through the wall of bodies, causing him to slow down with you as the other man made his way over easily. Benito cursed everything above him for still playing whatever this cruel trick was on him.
“Ahora no, Luis, por favor,” Benito tried to plead when the burly man stepped in front of the two of you.
“Tranquilo, Beno, ella me prometió otro trago.” Luis said, attempting to skirt around and grab you, “Pero se escapó antes de que pudiéramos tomarlo.”
Benito pushed the man's hand away harshly, still attempting to “Hermano, mírala, ya está borracha. No necesita más alcohol, tiene que irse a casa.”
“Entonces podrá quedarse en mi cuarto. La ayudaré a acostarse y tendrá el mejor sueño de su vida.”
Tensing, Benito held onto you tighter, turning so he placed himself between you and Luis. Through his teeth, he bit back a warning, “Vete carajo.”
With a childish sort of smirk on his face, Luis attempted to reach around Benito to grab your arm again. Although the curly haired man had tried to block him, Luis was able to squeeze the top of your shoulder, causing you to yelp slightly.
That’s all Benito needed.
In one swift movement, Benito pushed you back further away from them, just as he reeled his arm back. He let his fist fly forward until it collided with Luis’ jaw with a loud crack. The president stumbled backward as blood spewed from the corner of his mouth, but he stood upright again. With eyes widened, he looked at the man who had punched him.
That seemed to have gotten everyone else’s attention, as the chatter into the room suddenly became a quiet murmur. The music still blared, more prominent now without the background noise. More people were watching the spectacle now, including Lacy, who had made her way over to the middle of the fight to help you out of the crosshairs. Benito didn’t dare look around though, keeping his eyes dead set on the man in front of him.
“No te atrevas a tocarla.”
Benito stood straighter, towering over Luis, but the other man just laughed.
“Oh, dulce Beno el protector~” Luis mocked, wiping away some of his blood, “Tengo una idea. ¿Y si nos turnamos? La tendré a ella esta noche. La puedes tener a ella mañana.”
Something snapped in Benito as he let out a low growl before launching himself forward, hitting Luis again, this time square in the temple.
Fists flew without volition as everyone around them made a wide circle. His whole body was ignited in flames. Years of pent up aggression finally flowed out through each lay of Benito’s knuckles on Luis. The other man got in a few good punches, but it was no match against the curly haired man’s need to keep you safe. It was only when two of his own frat brothers came in and had to physically pull him off of Luis that Benito finally let up.
As he got up, his nose was dripping with blood and he was sure his entire face was going to be black and blue in the morning. Luis didn’t look any better as he laid on the ground, half passed out; his temple and mouth also leaking with the red liquid. With the inside of his shirt, he tried to wipe some of the blood away, spitting the access on the ground beside Luis.
Taking a breath, Benito scanned the crowd for you. He let out a sigh of relief as he saw you propped up against Lacy who had taken initiative to help you; your head lulling against her shoulder. Your brows were furrowed in deep concern as you stared directly at him, though a bit squinty.
“Are you okay?” You asked quietly.
Benito didn’t say anything; he wasted no time in walking over to you. Lacy gave him a grateful nod that he reciprocated before taking over. He let your arm fall around his shoulder as he held you up by the waist. Keeping you there was obviously no longer an option in the slightest.
It felt like the entire world was watching the two of you as he sifted you through the crowd of bodies. Some people patted him on the back while others tried to hand you water, but most who had witnessed the fight were just staring.
Everyone was looking. There was sure to be a lot of talk soon, and there were going to be a lot of things he’d have to catch you up on, Benito was sure of it. But none of that mattered in the moment as long as you needed him.
When he got to the little driveway, he picked you up off your feet to place you in the passenger seat of his car. As he was buckling you in, you tried to place your hand on his shoulder.
“Hey.” You whispered, trying again, “Are you alright?”
Benito huffed though he didn’t mean to. He was still full of adrenaline, so he tried to suck in more air to slow his heartrate down. It took him a moment to answer, and once you were secure in the seat, he sat back against the door.
“Yeah. Seré.”
“Seremos.”
The smile you gave him was sort of dopey and he finally let his lips raise. His bottom lip felt busted and it hurt as it stretched, but you were nothing short of adorable, so the pain didn’t matter much.
Carefully, he shut your side of the door before running around to his and getting in, throwing the keys in the ignition. It took a moment to start, having not been driven in about a month, but it eventually kicked in and he was reversing out of his little designated parking space.
He had to go slow because of the stragglers from the party, and it was only making him more anxious. You were hanging on by a thread. You were still conscious and moving around some, but only barely. Otherwise, you sat in the seat limp and your head kept falling against the window. He worried that you’d been given something stronger than the drinks.
Anger filled him again with the thought of Luis trying to feed you more alcohol - or even a pill - when you were already clearly so out of it, but he had to calm himself, reminding himself that it was already in the past and you were safe with him.
The drive to your dorm once he got the car moving was relatively short. Once there, Benito had to park himself around the corner, about a block away from your room. He got out and circled the car to you, pulling you out carefully, and held you in his arms bridal style.
It was a little bit of a struggle as his muscles were wrecked from the fight, but he was able to get you to your door no problem. He set you down against the wall once he was close enough, hoping to get you to open the door for him.
“Can you unlock your door?”
You lifted your hands uselessly, placing just the tip of your finger in your pocket before you presumably forgot what you were doing.
Holding his breath, Benito grabbed for your jean pockets. He turned his head away from you as he fished in your front two pockets to try to get your keys out. He hated touching you this way without your full consciousness, but there wasn’t much else he could do. He wondered for a moment if having you back at his house was smarter after all, but it was too late to change course.
He pulled your keys out just as you began to fall forward. He caught you against his chest again, placing one of his hands along your waist. His hand slid against your bare skin; it was cool to the touch and at the new warmer sensation, you let out the smallest hum of delight.
“Beni,” You purred against his shoulder, “Thank you.”
A small smile appeared, even though it hurt his lips.
“Of course, mi querida.”
Trying to balance you, he managed to unlock the door for you both, scooping you up again to bring you inside. He closed the door with his foot and carried you to your bed, gingerly placing you on the soft mattress. Benito grabbed your blankets and folded some of the covers over you, tucking you in.
He wasn’t going to take off or change your clothes for you, but he did take off your heels for you, lightly holding your legs from moving as he unbuckled the straps and pulling them off of your feet.
By your relaxed features, you could’ve fooled him that you were asleep already. It wasn’t until a soft hand grabbed at his arm as he tried to walk away did he realize that you were still just barely conscious. He let out a chuckle of surprise, letting you pull him back.
He sat on the side of your bed, watching you for a few moments. He lifted his hand to move some of your hair from your neck and then let his knuckles rest against your neck, lightly caressing your skin.
“Will you sleep here?” You managed to mutter.
Benito shook his head, “Not tonight.”
Immediately, you frowned, “You don’t want me…”
“No, no, esto no es eso.” Benito chuckled, “Estás intoxicado.”
“But you don’t want to kiss me?”
“Quiero besarte, mucho... Pero no ahora que estás así.” He whispered, swiping his thumb against the bottom of your lip, “I don’t want to make you feel like I’m taking advantage.”
“Please?”
You were practically whining, reaching to touch his face ever so softly. Your thumb brushed over a part of his jaw that felt sensitive from the fight. For a few moments, he racked his brain for the right thing to do.
And the conclusion he came to was that he wasn’t sure if it was right, but he wanted to.
Slowly, he bent down to hover over you, placing his hand along your neck firmly to guide you to him. You reached up and held his face between your hands with a slack grip; your fingers lightly pressing against his beard. His lips were frozen inches apart from yours as you both stared into each other’s eyes.
“¿Esto es lo que quieres, Mami?”
You were the one to close the distance, connecting your lips to his. He savored the sweet feeling, letting out a sigh as he pulled you in closer. He didn’t dare get in bed with you, or even move his lips any, but he couldn’t help but relax into you as you held him closer.
When he pulled away, you tried to follow, and he gently pushed you back down.
“Por ahora, dejémoslo así. Descansa un poco, baby.”
You whined again, “Stay?”
“Estás chingamente borracho.” Benito snickered mainly to himself, “I’ll stay on your couch. I’ll make sure you don’t get sick. But I can’t get in bed with you. Esta noche no.”
“Tomorrow, then?”
You hiccuped and another laugh escaped him. Placing his hand on your face, he rubbed his thumb against the apple of your cheek, “Sure. Unless you change your mind.”
“I won’t.”
Benito chuckled as he watched your eyelids getting heavier by the second, fighting to look at him properly. He placed his lips on your forehead, spending a moment there, and as he pulled away, you’d finally lost the battle to sleep.
He crawled off the edge of the bed, placing your hands back under the covers, before turning back to your couch. He was happy your apartment was as small as it was so he could still keep you in sight from a distance.
An involuntary groan left him as he let himself collapse on your couch. His face and his muscles were sore, and he was sure everything would be swollen in the morning.
He wasn’t entirely sure what a fist fight with the president of his fraternity would do to his standings. There was a high possibility that after all of that, he would be kicked out. He was probably going to have to find somewhere else to live until the end of the year.
That also meant he was going to have to tell his parents what happened.
Fuck.
He shook his head to rid himself of those thoughts, because none of that mattered at the moment. What mattered is that you were safe and sound with him.
It struck him suddenly that he never locked your door after bringing you in, so he groaned as he got up to do just that. It wasn’t the furthest walk, but it was annoying enough with how much he hurt.
When he turned back to the couch, he caught sight of your painting in the corner - still half finished with the most done on Eros - but the once blank corner now had the semblance of a woman, Psyche, drawn in light colored pencils, reaching back up to the god.
Benito smiled to himself, because she looked like you, just as he’d suggested.
Beside the painting, your sketchbook was open on your coffee table. On the page were pencil sketches of random hands and eyes. He sighed as he stole a glance at your sleeping figure. You’d already sprawled out across the bed, still in your outfit and makeup, but sleeping soundly.
He knew he was being selfish as he picked up the little book, but he was overly curious, and turned to the first page. Most of the first few pages were sketches of the landscapes of Puerto Rico and some random people he assumed were from your classes. Some later pages were some drawings of angels, seemingly sketches of the Greek god you were painting.
But then, the more he turned the pages, the more the angel turned into… him.
And soon, there were several pages of just Benito.
His eyes. His mouth. His hands. Him smiling with his shades on. Him in the middle of class with his cheek rested on his hand. And him with a bag of popcorn in his lap, looking deep in thought.
You’d captured him so effortlessly, but he looked softer by the way you drew him. He’d been so freaked out about being your Eros that he hadn’t stopped to see, or even ask, what you saw in him too. An overwhelming feeling flooded over him as he carefully scanned over the pages. He was so utterly flattered, having never felt so seen in his life.
And it was you who saw him.
Placing the sketchbook back down, he finally fell back onto your sofa, relaxing into it. He let his eyes close to finally rest.
Benito had been a fuck-up, he knew this, but that was going to change.
For real this time.
end a.n. Weeeeee!! What a whirlwind! This one was honestly one of my favorite chapters to write for this series. I hope you like it as much as I do, and as always please let me know what you think! We've still got a little ways to go before the end!
(taglist). @percysley, @zoomingspark888, @forwardsreckonreboundddd, @conejodelbenito, @oceantides-and-daffodils, @whiteghostlyclouds, @kenstellation, @videogamedriver, @shimmeringsunshinestars
Little backstory time: The day that album dropped was the day that my ex bf broke up with me. I won’t go into details about that since that’s been over and done with, but besides that, i was already going through a lot with finishing up my final semester of community college and worrying about putting together my final art projects and if i was able to graduate and transfer to uni. AND to top it off, I had a major family emergency. So to top it off with the heartbreak, i was going through a deep depression. It was my first and only relationship so far, and I’ll admit i was a lil dramatic but now, im healed from that lol. What does this have to do with UVST? Well, when I got a notification on Twitter that Bad Bunny dropped the album, I was curious because I wasn’t a major listener back then however, I was around for a few songs back in 2018 and thought he was pretty cool. So that night, I gave it a listen and that’s when I fell in love again. I was dancing and crying and it felt SO right. What really hit me was when I looked up the translation of the album title (A Summer Without You) and it was exactly what I was going through. Hearing Benito’s voice was something I needed and realized that I took his music for granted. And the same thing happened when DTMF came out last year. This album as well as Bad Bunny means a lot to me. So again, happy birthday UVST ❤️
I was at the rez this past weekend and didn’t have service until today. I come back to see nothing but love for my latest drawing not only here but other platforms. This means so much not only for me but for my community. I appreciate every like, share, and comment I’ve received on all my platforms! I haven’t made art in a long time due to mental health and loss of motivation. This was a great welcome back for me!
Benito's life has significantly slowed since he started hanging out with you, but not without some confusing feelings. The two of you go to a museum and Benito learns a lot about Eros.
Last Part | Part 5 | Next Part
wc. 7.2k | My Masterlist
notes. guys I've been sooo anxious to post this part, like heart pounding nervous, because I know y'all may love or hate me for it :)) also, you guys gotta stop clocking me in the comments!! it's like y'all can see my docs lol (but don't actually, I love your comments, even if they do predict the plot lmaooo)
tags. bad bunny x fem!reader, slow burn, angst, college AU, mentions of casual sex (always consentual) and drugs and alcohol, mentions of being drunk, some violence, but doesn't get to explicit. the both of you switch between english and spanish often, spanish isn't translated, and spanish is part google translate/part research
For the next few weeks, Benito was beginning to feel a lot closer to you than he had with anyone in a long time.
The two of you had begun to hang out more outside of classes; always short and sweet, but meaningful. He’d walk you to your class and sometimes even wait for you. You two even went to another movie together and late night dinners were starting to become a thing, even on days when you didn’t have class together.
Benito was always slightly nervous about being alone with you, but after these few weeks of hanging out with you, he’d gotten mostly used to the tight feeling he got in his chest while he was around you.
Out of anyone in his life, you were listening to him. It was strange though, because he didn’t always have to say much to you for you to understand him. You always seemed to know if something was bothering him before he even said anything, and while it was also intimidating, it felt good that there was someone on his side.
Although he was trying desperately to keep things very cordial between the two of you, things were getting slightly blurred and confusing to him. The way you looked at him changed, and he could feel his own eyes soften when you caught his attention. The dinners and the late nights threw him more for a loop - both in good and bad ways, because he liked them - but they weren’t what he was used to.
You were texting him sometimes too. It wasn’t every day, but here and there both of you would send each other messages, mainly about each other‘s day. Sometimes you’d send him little pictures of things that made you think of him, and sometimes he’d send a selfie of himself to show his reaction.
It was risky texting you, because there was more wiggle room to be flirtatious. But Benito was good about it. There were a lot of moments where he almost crossed the line, but still was able to catch himself and keep it friendly.
He’d been doing very well about saying no to parties and women too. His grades were better, thanks to you, and that had seemed to be a pretty good incentive to stop the semi self-destructive behavior. He could’ve honestly cared less about the grades, but the last thing he wanted to do was disappoint you.
His fraternity had been gearing up for the weekend before Spring Break in a couple of weeks. The entire weekend was meant to be a party; it was normally the biggest party they threw of the year, and Benito had often been a big part in planning and getting people to come. In the past, there were no limitations; anyone could come and get hammered for about two days straight leading up to the week-long break.
This year however, for several reasons, he didn’t want to put his hands much in it.
One morning, the frat officers had sat down at the table with vodka and coffee to discuss it. Benito wasn’t an officer, but somehow he’d gotten roped into coming downstairs by Luis. He’d knocked on his door loudly, waking him up to come down and talk. Benito apparently knew the best girls. He refused to sit with the bunch at the table, but he stood just along the side of them watching with his arms crossed.
One of his brothers - a sophomore officer - had spoken to him first, already slurring his words, “Te hará bien ir, Beno. Nadie de la universidad te estará vigilando”
Luis spoke up; his words a bit more stable than the other guy, having had a few more years of practice with early morning drinking, “Si no estás ahí, eso sería bastante jodidamente patético, ¿eh?.”
All of the men’s eyes went to the one standing above them. And as always, this was the pressure that Benito felt constantly.
He’d shifted his gaze for only a moment to block them out of his vision, trying to give himself a moment to come up with an excuse as to why he shouldn’t go to what would undoubtedly be a rager.
It honestly wasn’t that he didn’t want to go either. He’d had a blast the past few years at the party, and it was a great way to kick off the break. But at the same time, he didn’t want to go overboard with a party.
For a second, he thought maybe he would invite you. You’d told him at one point that you’d never been to a frat party before. And this one was certainly a big party. But the thought of bringing you somewhere where you could be hit on by his frat brothers - or him - while his inhibitions were lowered sent a shiver down his spine.
But then if he didn’t go to the party, he’d never hear the end of it. They were already giving him grief for slowing his life down, and not going to the biggest party would definitely be fuel for fire later on.
Benito had finally faked a smile as he finally answered through his teeth, “Con más razón hay que ir, ¿no?”
Luis reciprocated that same fake smile as he looked at Benito, “Será mejor que lo hagas, ya que esto también es para ti.”
“Estaré allí, Luis.”
He’d tried to keep his voice even in front of his other brothers, but some of his animosity towards his president slipped out. He knew Luis liked to play with his ego, and Benito liked to play with his back, but lately he’d been getting extra tired of the back and forth.
Nothing was ever for him. It was always used against him in the end.
Nearly half of the girls - or really even half of the people - wouldn’t show up if he weren’t there, and Luis even practically said it himself. He was the most well known on campus out of any of them, including Luis, so it would make sense that people wouldn’t want to come if they didn’t see anyone they knew. It was a completely arrogant thought, but he couldn’t imagine why they would practically threaten him to come otherwise.
They needed him, otherwise, they wouldn’t be cool.
Benito continued to bite his tongue as he’d reached across the men for the handle of vodka. He lifted the bottle to his lips and took a giant swig of it before placing it back in the middle of them. Wiping his lips, he took a step back, and without another word started stalking off to class.
***
At least seeing you was somewhat calming to him.
You and him were in your normal Wednesday session a day or two after that meeting. The two of you didn’t have any plans for after, but Benito figured he’d hang out with you, walk you to class, or just really anything to keep him from going back to the frat house.
He’d been very good with you, but every week got a bit harder. He could still make it through the lessons, but Benito started to lose focus from time to time; he was getting lost while looking at you. Every session, he could feel himself drifting toward you, leaning into you and wanting to get closer, but felt his intrusive thoughts come back in.
Thoughts about running his hands along your body and pulling you close, kissing every delicate part of your skin…
So he was quick to catch himself and pull away often. He’d been having these seductive thoughts more often lately, especially the more the two of you hung out, and it was really getting to him. He would shake his head to try to get rid of anything non-professional.
You deserved better.
Still, he couldn’t stay away.
As you were packing up your things after the lesson, Benito was quick to offer to walk you to your class. However, you were quicker to voice your thoughts.
“We should go to the museum tonight,” Your voice was firm, like you’d already made up your mind hours ago on what you wanted to do and were just now getting around to saying it out loud, “...Si te apetece.”
Benito smirked, nudging your shoulder playfully, “You’re skipping class a lot lately–”
“It’s for class.” You interjected, “En el museo moderno hay una estatua de Eros y Psyche.”
A small smile appeared on his face. You were nervous about your final project and had been for weeks. You’d been confiding in him about how it was going, but he hadn’t seen much since he’d been to your dorm.
He hummed, “Why do you want to see the statue?”
“I can’t think of what she looks like.”
You said it so fast that Benito almost missed what you’d said. But before he could ask, you were already on a rant.
“Sigo buscando imágenes de Psyche, pero no sé... necesito algo físico como referencia.” You groaned, “And everything I try looks wrong.”
Benito smiled and looked you up and down. There was always a fuzzy feeling that overcame him when you were flustered over things like your artwork. With a small laugh, he agreed to your request to go to the museum.
As you both walked to the dorm parking lot to get to your car, Benito couldn’t help but walk close to you. There was always a sort of tension as the two of you drifted close until your shoulders were practically touching.
Getting to your red hatchback, Benito threw his things in the backseat along with yours and slid in the passenger's seat.
Immediately, he was enveloped by your scent again, taking in a deep breath before you got into the driver's side. It was the first time he’d been in your car since the night you picked him up, so he took a look around, realizing that it was slightly messier than he’d remembered.
Your bags were in the back, but there were also papers and scrunchies and lipstick in the front console all strewn about lazily. Benito couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, happy he got to see this more relaxed side of you.
The drive to the museum wasn’t too far - maybe only about ten minutes - and was mostly filled with some music and Benito asking questions about the random art piece you had in the backseat.
When you got there, Benito was once again quick to purchase the tickets for the both of you and drag you into the little cafe at the front. He got a coffee and your tea, as well as some pastries, before setting off to find the statue you’d been so eager to see.
Watching you walk around with the map in hand, looking directly for this specific art piece, was silly. You juggled tea and paper with a croissant in your mouth, all while navigating, and Benito could only watch in awe for a few moments. Afraid you’d spill your drink on the floors, he opted to simply hold said map for you while you led him around the halls and the period pieces.
Occasionally, you would gently catch his hand and stop him to admire a work that caught your attention. With a quiet voice, trying not to disturb the other guests, you gave him some interesting facts about whatever you knew.
Benito watched and listened intently to you, laughing fondly when you would stumble over your words or facts. He could feel his heart tightening and his head was swimming.
Luckily, you’d never stop too long, as you were on a mission.
Towards the back corner of the museum in a little dome of light was the sculpture that you were looking for: a marble statue of a man, Eros, with wings holding on tightly to a woman below him. He cradled her neck like he was pulling her towards him. The woman, Psyche, looked almost limp, but held her arms against the angel-like figure’s face. Their lips were frozen inches apart as they stared into each other’s marble eyes.
From beside him, you sighed deeply, “Esto no me está ayudando como esperaba.”
“No?”
“No.”
Benito watched as you split off from him to circle the large marble figures. Your eyes drifted along the large wings that were high in the air.
“Eros is the God of love… and lust.” You whispered, trying not to be too loud in the quiet museum, but your voice seemed to stutter again. Stealing a glance at Benito, you continued, “Psyche was a mortal woman with extraordinary beauty that even Aphrodite got jealous of her. Aphrodite sent her son, Eros, to pierce Psyche with his arrow so she would fall in love with someone vile.”
“¿Pero él no lo hizo?”
“Cuando la vio, fue atravesado por su propia flecha.” You answered.
“Then what?”
“Eros disguised himself and they got married in secret. He vowed he would never reveal himself to her and she vowed to love him unconditionally. Though, eventually, she grew suspicious and tried to trick him into revealing himself. In doing so, he also felt betrayed, so he fled, leaving her…”
The story was making his heart speed up as he walked around the statue to meet you again. He took in a gulp of air, feeling his chest hurt, like he knew where the end of the story would go. Your eyes weren’t on him anymore, but on the woman, particularly her face.
Lightly his shoulder bumped yours, derailing you from your tale, “¿No debería ser ella la más fácil de pintar?”
Another sigh escaped you, “She should be, but this isn’t what I was envisioning. I thought maybe she’d be… prettier.”
Benito glanced up to the statue and tried to give a closer look to the woman. He tried to understand what you meant for a long second, and after some searching, he seemed to agree. She was pretty and strong, even, but the marble woman was no epitome of beauty. At least not to Benito. She was not you.
As he looked back at you, his heart hammered.
“Then make her you.”
Your chest caved in as you made a sound close to a laugh, though you were quick to shake your head.
“No–”
“Ai, Mami, no te subestimes. Eres preciosa…” Benito’s words fell out of his mouth like he was finally releasing his inner monologue before he could catch it, “... as Jace would say.”
You bit your lip, and he could see your face heating up by the second as you turned away from him, acting as if you were looking back at the sculpture, “He’s just saying that to get into my pants though.”
“Maybe,” Benito let out a laugh, shaking his head at you, “But… he’s right. You’re beautiful. Tienes unos ojos bellos y una sonrisa que mata.”
He wasn’t sure why he said that out loud, but there was no taking it back.
This time, you caught his gaze, staring at him like you were desperately trying to process what he said. You blinked a few times, “You’re just being nice, Benito.”
That seemed to set his chest ablaze.
“I’m being honest,” He shook his head and swallowed thickly, “You could have anyone you wanted.”
The two of you stood there for a moment looking into each other’s eyes.
Benito thought of leaning in; pulling you in and pressing his lips that were so close to his. But this time you were the one to step away before he could, averting your gaze to the ground in front of you.
“I-I saw what I wanted to see.” You muttered, “I’ll drive us back, yeah?”
He nodded and felt his heart calm down to a fluttering, “Of course.”
As you led him through the museum, you were abnormally quiet and the Boricuan wondered if he’d overstepped; it’s what he’d been worried about while texting. He hadn’t wanted to blurt out that he thought you were attractive and beautiful and everything but here he was doing it anyway in person.
Once in the car, you looked more tense than normal as you turned to him,
“¿Sabes? Todavía no he escuchado tu música.” You mused aloud, your voice surprisingly more calm than you looked, “And you told me I could listen sometime.”
Letting out a sigh of relief that you weren’t upset at him, at least not outwardly, he shrugged, “Your art is more… available.”
You hummed, tapping the tip of his knee with your index finger.
“I bet you have some songs somewhere..”
Benito bit the inside of his lip and cursed that you were right. He’d put up some of his songs on Soundcloud. They were in his drafts, unpublished, but they were definitely able to be played in your car.
Slowly, he fished out his phone from his pocket, debating on whether to come up with an excuse not to show you. Giving into you though, you put the car in motion as he grabbed for the aux cable. The both of you knew he’d been dragging his feet on showing you, and even then as he was pulling up his music, he could feel his ribcage being beaten with his heart as he searched for a song that wasn’t going to scare you away.
After a few moments, the small red hatchback was filled with Benito’s voice and his beat coming in…
No puedo confiar. En nadie confío, ni en amigos míos. Ahora imagínate en cupido. No me vuelvo a enamorar. Yo, de ti no me vuelvo a enamorar.
He didn’t let himself watch your reaction to this song, because it was a song about not letting himself love and be loved. He’d even forgotten the mention of Cupid in his own song, having done the littlest research when he wrote that line. It wasn’t a song that he was most proud of, but it was probably the least sex driven song he had at the moment.
Still, he let the song play in its entirety.
Only once did he steal a glance at you, only to see you bobbing your head to the beat with a small smile on your face. It made his chest overcome with emotion, so he had to turn himself away again.
When it faded out, he quickly turned the volume all the way down to nothing and finally turned to you, only to see your triumphant, beaming smile.
And like he’d said earlier, it was to die for.
As you came to a stop light, you turned your body to him, the air in the car going still. You were so incredibly close, and you must’ve realized it too.
“I loved it. You have such a nice voice,” You whispered.
Benito breathed a sigh, “You did?”
“Of course I did. Deberías tocar otro... por favor.”
Benito sucked in and held his breath until the light turned green. Only then did he turn his attention back to his phone and pick another song at random this time. The next song was more upbeat and one of the first lines was about kissing someone dizzy, but he kept the volume low and his hands on his knees, feeling as if he were going to explode.
It felt like an eternity before you pulled back into the parking lot of your dorm, and when you did, you placed the car in park but kept your hand on the shifter as you listened to the rest of the song. For a moment, you looked deep in thought as he tried to keep his head from turning to you.
“Lo siento, me dejé llevar… Do you want me to drive you home?”
“No.”
You didn’t make a move to get out of the car yet and neither did he.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see you pressing your eyes shut like you were mustering up courage. After a deep sigh, you turned your body towards him.
“Can I kiss you?”
Benito’s eyes snapped to yours, shocked. It wasn’t a question anyone had asked him before. He hadn’t thought about it before until that moment, hearing it for the first time from you. Your soft voice made his insides shake and flutter around violently, almost to the point that it hurt.
He was staring now; searching and scanning your beautiful orbs for a reason to back away and not give in. But you were asking, and the longer he searched, the more he was getting lost and all he could do was give you a small nod and a whisper,
“Si.”
Carefully as if you were made of glass, he leaned over the console to place his hand gently to the back of your neck, gingerly carding through some of your hair that stuck to his fingers. He licked his lips, closed his eyes and waited.
As your lips pressed against his, he couldn’t help the breath that escaped him as if he’d been holding it in for years. He’d been thinking and dreaming of this moment since he met you, but denying the thought that it would happen.
It wasn’t much at first; a simple, unhurried kiss. But it was a simple kiss from you.
Your lips were soft yet slightly chapped in the middle where you kept biting on them. It must’ve only been a few seconds that the two of you were connected, but to Benito it felt like a lifetime.
It was perfect.
Benito pulled away for a painstaking second to check on you; he needed to make sure you were okay with what was happening, but was only able to gasp for air as you pulled him back in by the collar of his shirt.
The second kiss was hungrier from you, which he wasn’t expecting at all. He let out a muffled sound of surprise as you connected to him again, letting your hands wrap around his neck as well.
Warning signals were going off in his head: You’re not keeping it professional. This isn’t going to end well. You’re not worth it for her.
Despite the warnings, he deepened the kiss by moving his lips against yours, enveloping you in the more skillful fashion he was used to. You let out the quietest moan and it only drove him further. Gently, he placed his hands against your shoulders and pushed you back against the cushions of your car, wanting to do all of the work for you.
Your hands were shaking as they carded through his curls, unsure of where to be, only reminding him of how inexperienced you were with these kinds of things. Without breaking the kiss, he felt for your hands, twining your fingers together to try and calm you.
The more you melted into his touch, the more he took control. He pulled away from your lips, only to kiss your cheek, down your jaw, your neck, and finally to the crook of your shoulder. He could feel you swallow hard against his lips as he began nipping and sucking. You let out a string of moans and whimpers which went straight to Benito’s core.
When he was done, he sat back and admired his work for a moment; he left a faint purple mark just above your collar bone, making him smile.
He was about to go back in for more when you stopped him.
“¿Te gustaría pasar?”
The question came out breathless through your kiss-bruised lips. Benito, feeling giddy, smiled and got out of the car to answer your question. He could hear you giggling as you got out as well, beginning to follow you to the inside of your dorm. And now that the barriers were broken, he wanted more.
Except, his head was yelling at him still: Go home. You shouldn’t do this. She deserves so much better.
But his hands found your soft waist as you tried to unlock the door to your dorm, wanting to memorize every inch and curve of you. Once the door was unlocked, he wasted no time leading you to your couch, pressing you beneath him.
Your hands grasped for his jaw, pulling him in closer for another kiss. He smiled as he reached up to take your chin in his fingers, much like he’d been wanting to again, and pulled your bottom lip apart. Gently, he bit down, eliciting a gasp from you that he wished he’d could’ve recorded to hear forever.
The feeling of kissing you and hearing your breathless moans for him was like no other; it was like a reward he’d spent so long craving for. He’d never spent so long pining after one person that this felt like the build up to something special. He attempted to savor the moment with you, taking things much slower than he normally would as he spent time kissing your lips and neck and shoulders.
It wasn’t until he pulled away to rip his shirt off that he caught a glimpse of your painting in the corner of the room again. Much more of it was done this time; so much more of Eros was painted, still reaching out towards a blank, white spot. But he couldn’t help but notice certain details about him had changed.
The hair on the God was now dark with swirls of purple and blue instead of the deep gold, and the complexion was painted in with all kinds of colors until it resembled a sort of dark olive… like Benito’s skin. And his eyes, that were once blank - void of any color at all - were now filled in with a deep, earthy brown that resembled Benito’s own.
All of a sudden, his heart started to rattle in his chest uncomfortably and he was starting to lose control of his breathing.
It hit him hard that he was past the point of no return with you; He was about to ruin every rule he’d given himself.
This was only going to prove that he couldn’t change.
He didn’t like thinking of you romantically. He did, but you were something pristine to him, and thinking of you that way made him think that after a certain point, you would become just another number that left him, much like everyone else.
You were about to reveal him. You were close to giving him exactly what he wanted. And what if he could never give you what you wanted in return? What if you got disappointed?
Gently, you placed your hand on his bare chest, “Hey, are you okay?”
Although he felt like it should’ve been comforting, all he could feel was his heart beating against the palm of your hand, racketing hard and fast.
He started shaking his head wildly, “I don’t–”
The curly haired man cut himself off as he ripped himself away from you. You sat up swiftly, grasping for his arm again.
“No vayas, Beni.”
Your voice was close to a plea and Benito's heart only stung more at the new nickname you gave him.
“Lo siento, Mami. Yo... no puedo hacerlo. No contigo.”
The corners of your eyes started to get red and watery, tearing the man apart.
“What?”
“No contigo,” He repeated, though his voice felt wobbly, “I don’t–”
“We don’t have to go any further,” You said, standing from the couch, talking quicker. Benito took a large step back, flinching as if you were some monster, though you continued, “We can talk about this. You don’t have to go.”
Benito closed his eyes to cut himself off from you, much like he had for his brothers at the meeting. He was so grateful for you and how calm and patient you were, but as he’d thought millions of times before, he wasn’t worth all of that. Not when he couldn’t give it back.
All he could give was mediocre sex and songs about fucking other women.
“Lo siento.”
Without another word, he ignored you calling out his name and walked straight out the door.
***
Benito found himself at the club that same night just following the motions. He danced and flirted with anyone who came near him, once again trying to forget about the woman that occupied my mind so frequently. It was working the more he talked to people, and the more drinks he had.
And after a few weeks of not having any drinks, he was feeling buzzed.
He ended up flirting with a girl who grabbed him on the dance floor after his fourth or fifth shot of Patron. She was a nice dancer and kept her hands along his waist and hips the whole time they danced. He could feel his lips moving and words leaving his mouth, but he didn’t know or care what he was saying.
This new woman wrapped her arms around his neck and just swayed to the beat, all the while letting his hands roam aimlessly and wherever he wanted. It suddenly felt strange the more confident she touched him; a strange burning sensation he hadn’t felt before as her hands traveled lower.
Benito felt like he could feel the eyes of the people around him watching this spectacle he was slowly making out of himself. The girl led him off the dance floor and into a quieter area, where he kept his hands wandering along her body, but still didn’t try to do much. It was starting to become uncomfortable, like pins and needles the more he rubbed and caressed the same spots. She kept traveling lower, gripping his thighs and pressing her hips to his.
This is what he wanted, wasn’t it?
Then her lips were on his. He let the strange girl kiss him and take him wherever he wanted. Eventually, he ended up in her car with her on top, trying to find any sort of happiness out of sex. Sex that he could’ve had with you.
Your sweet words and your kind and gentle kisses kept invading his mind compared to these rough and coarse hands that touched him now. He’d wanted this physical attention - and seeked it out - but couldn’t stop thinking about you.
This random girl didn’t mean anything to him like you did.
As soon as he was dressed, he ran. It was rude of him, he knew this, but he couldn’t let anyone see him anymore. He made his way out of her car and started towards the closest beach. The warm breeze of the Puerto Rican air felt like needles for the first time in his life, but he trudged on until he got to the water.
Finally alone, he broke down, letting tears fall and sobs escape. He didn’t even care if anyone caught him and gave him grief. He felt dumber than he ever had; so much more stupid for all the nights he’d spent out letting these people touch and invade his body.
Of course, he’d wanted that. He’d wanted the sex; he’d wanted to be touched. But it was dawning on him he wasn’t some God of love and lust - he was just Benito - who couldn’t seem to let himself love or be loved.
He knew he could’ve called you. He could’ve reached out and asked for help again, but he’d never felt so… stupid.
Early the next morning when he finally got back to his room, he reached under his bed, far in the back corner, he pulled out the bottle of whiskey and took in a few big gulps, hoping that he could sleep the day away with no dreams of you or his parents, or anything.
He wanted to be alone.
***
Groggy was the understatement of the year.
More than groggy, Benito was still drunk as could be when he woke up to his phone buzzing the next morning.
But, as he picked up his phone, he realized it wasn’t the next morning. It was two mornings later. And not only that, but his Father was calling. Purposefully, he ignored it until the call went away so he could see any other messages he had.
And to his surprise, he had tons:
Over 10 missed calls and almost the same amount of text messages were all from you. But Benito didn’t want to read or listen to anything; he knew you were concerned, but he didn’t want you to be.
His phone lit up again with his Father’s contact, and that time, he hit the button on the side, sending it straight to voicemail. Truly, his resolve was broken, and he didn’t give a fuck anymore.
The first time he left the room was even a full day after that. His eyes were puffy and swollen, and his body felt so disconnected. Benito at least got up to get some food but only once he felt his stomach caving in on itself.
Benito still didn’t find the courage to go to class.
In other words, he couldn’t muster up the courage to face you and his mistakes. After some time, he did eventually look at your calls and messages. You’d asked him to come to class so desperately so the two of you could talk, but he didn’t want that for you.
He needed you to forget him.
After missing class again the next Monday, he got another message from you that shattered him: “I’m sorry about what happened.”
Because he fucking happened, and he wished you weren’t so sweet to him.
Instead, Benito focused his time and efforts elsewhere. For about a week, he went back to partying and drinking and staying as numb as possible. Eventually, he let his phone die because he was tired of the calls. His parents had given up almost immediately after he hung up on them the first time, but you on the other hand were relentless. Because of course you were.
But he still couldn’t talk to you. He didn’t know what to say.
Around the next Tuesday is when he finally finished both his pen and the bottle of whiskey. He’d been tearing through both and using them to continuously sleep throughout the days. Some days, it kept the panic at bay, while others seemed to amplify it more.
Late that Tuesday night, he found himself downstairs raiding the liquor cabinet for another bottle he could stash away; preferably one that no one would want. It would take him a while for him to get more weed, but that honestly wasn’t as important.
He found what looked to be the tiniest bottle of Pitorro all the way in the back and grabbed for it. He didn’t even care to hide it or anything, thinking that no one would question him in the state he was in.
And he was right as he made it to his room no problem and popped off the top. He took a large swig of it - Coffee flavored, his least favorite - and felt a large shiver run down his spine. The coffee flavoring reminded him of you as he closed his eyes.
Three large pounds sounded on his door and Benito frowned. Quickly, he threw the bottle under his bed before going over to answer with a scowl.
But what he wasn’t prepared to see was Luis with you.
It felt like his heart stopped and his head started to pound tenfold as his eyes drifted to you and your figure. You looked just as sad as Benito felt with rings around your eyes and your hair was more messy than normal.
“Hey,” You said carefully.
“Ey.”
There was hardly any emotion in his voice.
Luis, with a large smirk and his arms twisted against his chest, leaned against Benito’s doorframe, looking between the two of you, “Esta mujer guapísima vino a nuestra casa a buscarte, Beno.”
For a moment, Benito turned to you, feeling as if he couldn’t catch his breath again. The last thing he wanted was to face you, but his worst nightmare was having Luis in on this conversation.
He let his eyes fall when he couldn’t stand to look at you anymore.
“Lamento que hayas venido aquí. Yo–”
“¡Ay, por favor, cabrón! Le debes una disculpa mejor a esta mujer.”
Opposite of Benito, Luis’ voice was chipper, like he’d just figured out the curly haired man’s achilles heel.
With almost a sinister smile, the president wrapped his arm around your shoulders, bringing you closer to him. You didn’t pull away and it made Benito’s chest hurt.
“You’ve been ignoring my calls,” You voice was stern but quiet. The other man didn’t speak a lick of English, so it was like you were also trying to indicate you wanted privacy, “We need to talk.”
With a deep sigh, Benito opened his door wider for you to step in. Luis tried to follow after, but the older of the two placed a hand on the man’s chest. The president scoffed and rolled his eyes.
“Dime si me ocupas.”
Luis was talking to you, but his eyes never left Benito’s. With another scowl, Benito snapped the door shut on the guy before him, a gruff groan escaping his lips.
“Benito.”
Your voice was pointed and it immediately brought goosebumps to his skin. For a moment, he thought you were going to start yelling at him finally. Instead, you kept your voice quiet and just above a whisper so as not to let Luis hear outside of the door.
“I’m sorry for what happened.”
Benito started shaking his head despite the headache coming on.
“Ai, no, stop apologizing, please. I’m the one that ran away.”
“You also owe me an apology for running away. It’s not fair of you to leave me in the dark.”
“You’re right.” He sucked in a breath but nodded, “I’m sorry.”
Benito could feel his leg shaking out of anticipation and anxiousness the longer you looked at him expectantly to keep talking.
“I like flirting with you.” He said with a small laugh, “I was really, really happy to kiss you. I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”
“Then why did you leave?”
“Because you shouldn’t keep giving yourself away to me,” Your name fell from his mouth more desperate than he intended, “I care about you so much. I don’t know what I’m doing with my life, but you do. It should be the reason you run far away from me.”
He fought back tears as you listened to him, always so intently. You always understood where he was coming from, but at the same time, he didn’t want you to.
“That’s not true. I don’t know more than you about what I want to do. I wanted to help you, but I let my feelings get in the way, and I’m sorry I haven’t been professional.”
He laughed out loud, “I’m the one who’s not professional.”
You looked to the ground, lowering your voice to a whisper, “Do you… not want me around anymore then?”
The question shot right through his heart and automatically, he shook his head.
“It’s not that. I want you. But I can’t… commit to you. Not while I’m trying to figure things out. You don’t deserve that.” Then, he could see tears in your eyes as well and that broke his heart, “I shouldn’t have kissed you back. I’m the one who fucked up this whole thing we had going on. Now it’s best if I stay away from you so I don’t mess you up either..”
“No has cagada nada. We don’t have to kiss again or do anything. Just… come back to class. If you don’t, your grades are going to start slipping.”
“Yes, I know, siempre se trata de las malditas notas…”
Shaking your head, you tried to step closer to him, “You don’t understand the work you’ve been putting in these last few weeks to turn your life around. Don’t throw that away please, not because of me.”
“Ya no quiero,” He quipped, “Thank you for helping me, but I don’t deserve any more help. I’ve done enough to prove I don’t deserve it after everything you’ve given me. I can’t give you anything back.”
For a moment, you paused as you stared at him again.
“Beni, you don’t… you never have to owe me anything. I don’t help you in hopes of getting anything in return. Not even a kiss. That’s not how this works.”
Maybe it was the nickname again, or the sincerity in your voice, but tears pricked at the back of his eyes once again as he stared at you for a long few moments.
“Please… if you come back to class, we can start over–”
“I slept with someone.” He said, closing his eyes from you once again. He couldn’t watch. You still weren’t getting it, so he was aiming straight for your heart, “La noche en que nos besamos. I did it to forget what you felt like.”
“What?”
As he opened his eyes, he was finally met with the hurt he’d constantly been expecting. Though, seeing it on your face broke him more than he thought it ever would, and he immediately wanted to take everything he said back and fix it.
No matter if he wanted to say more, it all went out the window as Luis stepped through the door. Benito hadn’t locked it in case you’d wanted an escape, but he was regretting it now seeing the president saunter through like he owned the place.
“Se acabó el tiempo.”
Luis wrapped his arms around your shoulders again and you gave Benito a sort of apologetic look. For only a moment, you leaned into the other man as your lip began to wobble. Quickly though, you scurried out of the man’s grip and then out of the room entirely. The two men watched you leave and as soon as you were out of sight, Luis hummed in thought.
“¿O sea que es tu ex?”
Benito rolled his eyes, “¿De qué estás hablando?"
“Estoy hablando de ella.” A small, permanent smirk was etched on the president’s face as he stared the man in front of him up and down as if he were sizing him up for a fight. “Ojo por ojo, hermano.”
“No.” Benito answered firmly, “Ella no está en esa.”
“Afortunadamente, ella me dio su número en caso de que alguna vez necesitaras algo.”
“Luis,” there was a sort of plea that came from Benito’s mouth, “Por favor, déjenla en paz.”
The president sized up Benito and took a step forward, getting in his space.
“Me parece que la dejaste sola, amigo.”
That stung deep in his chest as he started to usher Luis out of his room, but not before the other man let out a loud laugh. Even with the door shut, Benito could still hear it echoing throughout the house, as if the man were purposefully making it louder for him to hear.
The saddest part to him though, was that he was right.
Tumblr saw it first, Benito Bowl but make it ✨ Indigenous 🪶✨
So I had a vision: Basically I when I saw Benito’s Super Bowl Teaser when it came out, I was completely moved by the diversity of people and cultures coming together for his music. Then I thought about how cool it would be to have someone from my culture in the same video, even just for a few seconds. Maybe some day.
Also I may have been inspired by this Native American!Reader x Benito head canon by @yinny-roma , give it a read <3
notes. requested by @zoomingspark888 love you b!! thanks for always supporting myself and just everyone around you!! I hope you love this one :)
tags. bad bunny x gn!reader, established relationship, Headcannons, mostly all fluff :)
Truly, you never thought you would be comfortable with anyone touching your hair. Ever.
The thought of anyone putting their dirty hands in the hair that you took pride in joy in sent a literal shiver down your spine any time you thought about it.
Benito, on the other hand, knew exactly how to handle and treat your hair with care. So, the only person allowed to touch your hair was your husband.
It wasn’t something he did often, but only when necessary.
Like when he kissed you and let delicate fingers weave through with expertise. Or in the evening when you were just falling tired and Benito would rake through your scalp, effectively calming you.
You introduced him to your hair routine early in your relationship, making sure to reiterate how important it was for you. But he hadn’t needed to hear you more than once; immediately being able to see the physical evidence that you took the utmost pride in your curls.
After you got married, he was able to spend more time with you than when you were dating, and funny enough, he spent a lot of time in the bathroom with you. One, for fun. Two, he just liked watching how you lived.
And most of the time in the bathroom was spent on you taking care of your hair.
After your showers - the days you got your hair wet anyway - you had your own routine that Benito grew to adore watching closely.
If he was lucky, he’d get to see the beginning process where you worked the shampoo and conditioners into your hair. It was sexy to him the way you worked your fingers through your dense wet curls, and never failed to drive him mad.
Sometimes, because of that, he was banned from watching until the detangling process.
The most adorable thing to him was how you scrunched your curls to begin the drying process. With a little towel meant just for your hair, it was like you painstakingly made sure to scrunch each and every one of your ringlets.
He loved how intensely you watched yourself in the mirror, making sure the towels were soaking up all the way to the roots. You would always diffuse and really dry it after, but he enjoyed the diligence of your movements when you scrunched.
Benito was obviously known for having his own curls, though he hadn’t learned until more recent years how to take care of them. He’d been keeping them up in braids or shaving it off completely if he didn’t want to deal with the upkeep.
That was, until he saw how much effort and love you put into your own hair.
You’d been researching and trying to discreetly help every once in a while before he asked officially; occasionally you would leave a little sample size conditioner meant for his type of curl, or even trying to get him to sleep on a silk pillow case.
The first time he asked you for help on how to nurture his curls better, you didn’t hesitate!
As you did a routine on his hair, he felt like he’d gone to heaven. But really, it wasn’t like you did anything fancy.
After cleansing and conditioning his hair, you began brushing it with your own wide-tooth comb. He automatically shut his eyes tightly, letting out the deepest sigh you think you’d ever heard.
When you switched to your fingers to make sure all of the kinks were out, you could feel him shuttering beneath you. And if his eyes hadn’t been closed, you were sure they were rolling back.
He was letting out noises he didn’t expect for him to make when it came to hair.
Once you started scrunching his hair to dry it, he opened his eyes only to watch you again. Even with him, you had the utmost concentration just as you did for your own hair, making his heart beat quickly and happily.
The brushing was nice, but it would never compare to seeing you do what you loved.
When his hair was fully dried and finished, you ordered for him to shake it out a little. Being afraid he was going to mess up your masterpiece on his head, he very cutely and gently, shook out the curls.
Whisps of his hair fell against his forehead as he smiled; they were feather light and felt cleaner than they ever had before.
“Deberías lucir tus rizos más a menudo, mi amor.” You gave him a warning glare, pointing at to the top of his head, “Te mataré si usas sombrero en los próximos dos días.”
He rolled his eyes, “Sé afortunado no lo estoy afeitando.”
“Pero,” you started, “Ahora podemos hacer nuestras rutinas juntos.”
And really, that was all Benito needed to continue to do his new hair routines.
end a.n. cuties. ❤️ I adore when his curls look kinda wet like they do in the picture :) I think it's soooo cute
(taglist) @percysley, @zoomingspark888, @forwardsreckonreboundddd, @conejodelbenito, @oceantides-and-daffodils, @whiteghostlyclouds, @byersbenito,@videogamedriver
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