benicio del toro x f!reader
a/n: hi i'm not very satisfied with this but whatever pardon my mistakes english isn't my first language
warnings: no warnings it's all safe although maybe kisses on readers face if that counts (?), benicio is a cutie
The apartment was still wrapped in darkness when Benicio quietly unlocked the front door.
the clock showed 5:40 am
Most of Los Angeles was still asleep.
Including you.
He stepped inside as quietly as possible, closing the door behind him with a soft click.
His body felt heavy from the flight.
Hours on a plane.
Airport crowds.
Jet lag.
Filming that had stretched on longer than expected.
But despite the exhaustion weighing on every muscle, he couldn’t stop smiling.
Because he was finally home.
And you were here.
Before heading upstairs, he carefully set a small paper bakery bag on the kitchen counter.
The smell of fresh pastries immediately filled the air.
A bakery near the airport opened absurdly early, and he’d made a special stop before coming home.
You loved their pastries.
Particularly the almond croissants.
And he knew exactly which ones to buy.
Satisfied, he headed toward the bedroom.
The sight waiting for him immediately softened something inside his chest.
You were asleep.
Curled beneath the blankets.
Completely unaware that he was finally back.
For a moment he simply stood there.
Watching.
Weeks away always made these moments feel strange.
Like he had to remind himself you were real.
That he wasn’t about to wake up in another hotel room halfway across the world.
Quietly, he started peeling off the clothes from his flight.
The jacket.
The jeans.
The shoes.
Everything that smelled like airports and airplane cabins.
A few minutes later he was dressed in comfortable gray sweatpants and an old white t-shirt that had become one of his favorites.
Home clothes.
The best kind.
He slipped beneath the blankets carefully.
The mattress dipped slightly.
You stirred.
Then settled again.
Still asleep.
Benicio smiled.
Then slowly started inching closer.
And closer.
And closer.
Until there wasn’t really any space left between the two of you.
His arm wrapped around your waist.
His cheek brushed yours.
Still asleep.
Not even a reaction.
“Unbelievable,” he whispered.
Then, because he’d missed you far too much to behave normally, he started pressing tiny kisses all over your face.
Your forehead.
Your cheek.
The corner of your eye.
Your nose.
Another cheek.
A sleepy frown appeared.
Then another kiss.
And another.
Your eyebrows scrunched together.
Finally, your eyes cracked open.
For a second you looked completely confused.
Then your sleepy brain caught up.
You froze.
“Benicio?”
His grin immediately widened.
“Hi.”
You blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Then suddenly you were fully awake.
“Oh my God.”
The smile that spread across your face was so bright it almost hurt to look at.
Immediately your arms wrapped around his shoulders.
Pulling him close.
“You’re home.”
“I’m home.”
You buried your face into his neck.
He laughed softly.
The kind of laugh that only happened around you.
Warm.
Content.
Happy.
“You smell like airplanes.”
“That’s rude.”
“You do.”
“I literally just changed.”
“You still smell like airports.”
He gasped dramatically.
“After all I’ve done for this relationship.”
You laughed.
The sound instantly making him feel more awake than any coffee ever could.
For several moments neither of you moved.
Just holding each other.
Enjoying the simple fact that the distance was gone.
Eventually you looked up.
“When did you get here?”
“About ten minutes ago.”
“And your first decision was to attack me with kisses?”
“It seemed reasonable.”
“Reasonable?”
“I stand by it.”
You shook your head, smiling.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Yet here we are.”
“Unfortunately.”
He squeezed you closer.
“You missed me.”
“A little.”
“You missed me.”
You sighed dramatically.
“A lot.”
“That’s better.”
He looked incredibly pleased with himself.
You rolled your eyes.
Then immediately cuddled closer anyway.
The room slowly began brightening as dawn arrived outside.
Neither of you made any attempt to get out of bed.
Eventually you ended up tucked against his side while he rested comfortably against the headboard.
Talking.
Just talking.
About everything.
About nothing.
The weeks apart slowly filling themselves back in.
Benicio told you stories from set.
Stories that became increasingly ridiculous.
Stories involving forgotten lines.
Broken props.
Rain ruining filming schedules.
One actor who somehow managed to lose his phone three separate times in one week.
“No.”
“I swear.”
“Three times?”
“Three.”
“Same phone?”
“No. Different phones.”
You laughed so hard your stomach hurt.
“How does that even happen?”
“I have absolutely no idea.”
Then it became your turn.
You told him about your weeks.
The movie you’d watched and hated.
The book you’d finished.
The neighbor who accidentally locked themselves out three times.
The café employee who had memorized your order.
Every story.
No matter how small.
Benicio listened like each one was fascinating.
Because to him, they were.
He’d missed hearing your voice.
Missed hearing about your life.
Missed hearing about anything and everything.
Hours seemed to pass without either of you noticing.
Eventually Benicio suddenly sat upright.
His eyes widening.
“Oh.”
“What?”
“I forgot.”
“What?”
“The pastries.”
Your face lit up immediately.
“The bakery pastries?”
“The bakery pastries.”
You practically launched yourself out of bed.
Benicio burst out laughing.
“I knew it.”
“You got them?”
“Of course I got them.”
“You are my favorite person.”
“Interesting.”
“What?”
“I’ve been home for three hours and croissants already outrank me.”
“They’ve had a strong performance this morning.”
He laughed so hard he nearly doubled over.
A little while later the two of you sat together on the couch.
Still in pajamas.
Still half-awake.
Sharing pastries and coffee while sunlight slowly filled the apartment.
No schedules.
No flights.
No film sets.
Nowhere either of you needed to be.
Just a lazy morning.
The kind that felt rare.
The kind that felt precious.
And every now and then, in the middle of telling another story from set, Benicio would stop talking for a moment just to look at you.
As if he still couldn’t quite believe he was finally home.
And every time he did, you smiled right back.