Flaco Hernandez x pregnant!reader
(I was on my period ok I don’t wanna hear nothing about it 😭)
a/n: I wrote this like a WHIIILEEEE ago n looking back I really don’t like the dialogue lol,,, but still this is my first rdr fic I posted so be nice pls 🙏
warning(s): well reader is heavily pregnant guys, fem!reader nothing else, obv I dont beta, google translate Spanish (guess what my first language actually is bc it’s sure as hell not Spanish or English), beyond that this was actually quite sweet (:
Summary; Athurs meeting with Flaco doesn't go as planned.
It started with rustling outside, instantly Flaco stiffened and reached for the gun in his belt. Even though he had been half asleep not even a minute ago, the man was now wide awake and already on edge.
The cackling sound of fire filled the small cabin, along with your heavy breathing as you slept soundly on Flaco’s chest, the two of you covered by his thick fur coat. Flaco didn’t really need the jacket, the fire roaring in the fireplace was more than enough to keep him warm, but with the state you were in now the man was a paranoid mess and even the possibility of you catching a common cold freaked him out.
He laid still, gently stroking your back as he waited for more sound to follow the rustling. Soon enough he heard his men call out from outside, talking to whoever had entered the camp. Flaco shot up, shushing your angry mumbling as he laid you down on the bed, wrapping his coat tighter around you.
“Flaco..” You almost whined, rolling over to blurily look up at the man who disturbed your sleep. You rubbed at your eyes and snuggled deeper into the coat as Flaco’s warmth disappeared from you.
You pouted, looking at him as he approached the cabin door. “Where are you going?” You asked with a yawn, half sitting up on your elbows. He stopped in his tracks, turning around to look at you in all your sleepy glory. He grinned boyishly down at you as he approached the bed again, you looked absolutely adorable like this, he thought. His heart couldn’t help but swell whenever he saw you wearing something of his, especially his coat.
“It’s okay, cariño. Flaco’s just going to check on things, I'll be right back.” He reassured you softly, one hand resting on your tummy while his other came up to engulf your cheek, gently stroking it with his thumb.
You wordlessly nodded and nuzzled into his hand, too tired to question him further. Just as you were about to lay back down, a harsh knock sounded on the door.
Flaco’s usual scowl quickly returned. “Flaco Hernandez! I don’t want any trouble.” A man's voice called out from behind the door. If it was one of the Del Lobos you both would have known by now, but none of you recognized this new voice.
“I’m here to speak with you.. About Boy Calloway.” The man continued, making Flaco let out an annoyed grunt as he turned away from you, retreating his hands from your stomach and face. “I’m unarmed,” The man quickly added, when Flaco didn’t immediately respond.
Flaco’s scowl deepened, making the man you otherwise knew as a big cuddly teddy bear appear intimidating and ruthless. “Stay right there.” He mumbled to you over his shoulder, an edge to his voice that usually came into play when he felt out of control.
His heavy steps made the whole little cabin shake, as he angrily stomped towards the door and threw it open. Cold air and speckles of snow immediately invaded the cabin, making a shiver go up your spine as you pulled Flaco’s coat tighter around you. As soon as he closed the door behind him, you shook the covers off you. Still clad in the coat, you fished your boots up from under the bed and hastily put them on. You struggled a bit, having a hard time bending down to tighten the laces but eventually got the job done.
You staggered out of bed, clinging to the doorframe when you finally reached it, already a bit out of breath. “Here’s your message,” You heard Flaco hiss, followed by the clinking sound of guns being drawn.
You knew Flaco would blow a fuse if you inserted yourself into a dangerous situation like this, but in your state of panic you didn’t even think as you threw the door open, almost as hard as Flaco had earlier. You breathed out heavily, relieved to see none of them had actually started shooting yet.
Arthur’s eyebrows shot up as you came running out the cabin, he was not expecting anyone else, especially not a young woman to be cooped up inside the cabin with Flaco. Maybe you were being held against your will, or for ransom of some kind. The thought made Arthur’s hand tighten around the gun, pointing it directly at Flaco’s head.
But then you didn’t run past Flaco, you clung onto his arm as you breathed heavily and tried to collect yourself. That’s when Arthur noticed your fur coat, or rather Flaco’s he concluded. He had wondered how the man could live up here with just an overcoat and white cotton shirt, without freezing to death. Arthur’s brows drew together in confusion as he observed the scene unfold before him, not understanding how one could get so out of breath from running barely a metre.
“Stop! Stop, please!” You cried frantically, looking from Flaco to Arthur with tear-rimmed doe eyes. You almost sunk to your knees out of exhaustion, your heavy breathing appearing as big clouds in the freezing mountain air.
Flaco threw his pistol in the snow, not caring that Arthur still had his raised and pointed directly at him as he hoisted you up by your waist. He instinctively tucked you behind him, pushing the coat a bit away from your middle in the process.
Athur’s eyes almost bulged out of his head and he instantly lowered his gun, letting it hang limply at his side. His eyes were glued to your rounded tummy, bulging out from underneath your skirt, making it awkwardly short as it stopped a little under your knees.
“I told you to stay inside, chiquita.” Flaco rasped, scolding you almost as if you were a child, but the fear in his eyes gave him away instantly. You shook your head defiantly, holding onto his arm and hand for support. “And what? Let you die out here? Dumbass men and their guns…” You hissed, meeting his scowl with your own angry pout.
Flaco sighed, looking away from your furious stare as his big hand let go of yours to softly place itself on your swollen stomach. He didn’t say anything as he turned to Arthur, his infamous scowl returning yet again.
For a moment Arthur felt like he could slap himself for having scared the wits out of a young, pregnant woman. But then he cringed, remembering who seemed to have gotten her pregnant.
He looked at Flaco and you for a long time, taking good notice of how you pressed yourself against his side and sinking the growing lump in his throat before speaking. “Is..” He trailed off, not knowing how to find the right words for his question. “Is it yours?”
Flaco stood up straighter, his threatening aura increasing the longer he looked at Arthur. “Oy, cabron! Of course it's mine!” He yelled, taking a step towards Arthur. Arthur let out an awkward cough in response, finally looking away from your round tummy and with a little hesitation, he slipped his pistol back in its holster. When he agreed to the job, no one had told him about Flaco having a girl, much less a very pregnant one.
“What are you doing here? You came to kill old Flaco, eh? Or just stare at my wife, which is it, pendejo?” Flaco sneered and your grip on him got tighter. The two of you weren’t actually married, but since discovering your pregnancy he had referred to you as his wife, or more often ‘mi pequeña esposa’ around the gang. Carrying his child was as close as it got to being bound together for life, anyways.
Arthur met Flaco’s angry stare. “Erh. As I said, I didn’t come to cause any trouble–” Flaco’s loud laugh interrupted him, it was forced and sounded more like long shouts but the few gang members who still stuck around camp, joined in anyways.
“–You don’t want any trouble, you say? So why come to my camp and wave your gun in my face?” He asked, smile growing a bit wider when he saw Arthur’s tense stance. “Estás pero si bien pendejo.” He scoffed, turning his head and spitting to the side, a messy lump of salvia that landed only a few centimetres from the gun he threw earlier.
Arthur glared at Flaco, wanting nothing more than to shoot him and be done with this whole affair, but he still had morals and ultimately came to the conclusion that he couldn’t leave you a pregnant widow. He would just have to say that Flaco had moved camp, that he came all the way up here for nothing.
He opened his mouth to bid the two of you goodbye, but you beat him to it. You stepped a bit away from Flaco, cupping your stomach protectively with both hands. “If you have no business here, please leave sir.” You said coolly, somehow even more doe eyed than before as you silently begged Arthur to follow your orders.
Arthur looked at you one last time before nodding, tipping his hat at you as he turned to leave. “My apologies, ma’am. And, uh, congratulations.” He mumbled, just loud enough for you to hear. You hummed in response, relieved to have an unspoken understanding with this stranger.
He started slowly walking, before stopping in his tracks again. “I ain’t done with you, Hernandez. I’ll be back.” Arthur called over his shoulder, before continuing down the path he came as you and Flaco watched him disappear.
You slightly tensed at his last words, bouncing up the fabric of your dress with your fists till your knuckles turned white.
Flaco scoffed. “I should have shot that cabrón as soon as he turned his back,” He grumbled, kicking the snow with his boot.
You turned away from him, wrapping the coat tighter around yourself. The cold was finally starting to catch up to you and with just your nightgown and Flaco’s coat on you would be shaking within minutes. “Yeah and get yourself killed in the process.” You muttered, resting your hands on top of your belly and fought back the small sniffles that threatened to escape your body.
“Ah, chica, give Flaco a chance! They don’t call me terror of the grizzlies for nothing, I'm damn good with a gun and you know it,” He said smugly, pressing himself up against your back. You huffed and turned around in his grip, pushing at his chest to get away from him. He gave you a puzzled look as you normally accepted his affection happily, but stepped away from you again.
Your pout had returned, lower lip quivering as you looked at his feet. “I’m serious!” You said, a bit louder than intended. “What am I supposed to do if you go and get yourself shot? What if.. What if..” You trailed off, warm tears forming in your eyes at the thought of what you were about to say. “What if you die before the baby’s born? I can’t raise a baby alone, and what do I tell them? That their stupid brute of a daddy got himself shot in a mindless standoff? God, you men are so daft! All of you!” You turned from Flaco to glare at the remaining men in camp, as if you weren't yelling loud enough for even the people down in Strawberry to hear. Some of them awkwardly rubbed their necks, while others flushed and refused to look in your direction entirely.
“What.. What am I supposed to do? What do I.. You– I–” You started to yell again, but it quickly died down when the sniffles got too strong and tears started to freely fall from your eyes. Hot, warm tears that melted holes in the snow around you as it fell.
Flaco didn’t argue back, just stood there with a stoic expression and listened to your harsh words. He knew you didn’t truly mean them, he knew you were just scared and overwhelmed and he really couldn’t blame you. The man would never admit it, but he shared your fears. He truly thought he was gonna die alone, old and forgotten, but then you came into his life and soon enough you would also bring a wonderful baby along, too. His baby. He knew he didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve someone as sweet and loving as you, but he would fight tooth and nail to keep you.
“Hermosa..” Flaco gently cooed at you, eyes softening as he reached out to brush a strand of hair from your wet cheek. “C’mere,” He opened his arms for you, pulling you in by the back of your neck.
You shook your head. “Don’t touch me.” You whimpered pitifully, softly banging your fists on his chest as he hugged you tighter, resting his chin on your head. You cried harder when your forehead collided with his chest, fists clinging to his shirt while you cursed at him for scaring you.
“Sh, shh.. Flaco’s right here, chiquita. I ain’t going nowhere.” He shushed you, stroking your back with his big hands and slowly started to sway the two of you back and forth. He did this every time you cried, not being able to stand the sight of his beloved so upset. Soon you were calming down, softly hiccuping as you nuzzled into him. The two of you stood like that for a long time, Flaco was way beyond the point of caring if his men saw him being soft with you. They already heard almost anything that went on in Flaco’s tiny shed anyways.
Some of his men smiled as they walked past, happy to see their leader so content for once, any traces of his usual scowl completely erased. None of them would ever dare to say it out loud, but they all knew that Flaco was just a big, grumpy, teddybear.
Suddenly you gasped, feeling a bump from the inside of your stomach. “Flaco!” You whispered, trying to detangle yourself from his arms. He grunted, having almost fallen asleep in the position you were in.
“Flaco! Come on, let go!” You giggled, grabbing his wrists and moving back to place his hands on your belly, where the bumping was strongest. His eyes were still closed, until he felt a kick against his hand. He instantly shot up from his slumped position, wide awake as he looked down at you with wide eyes.
He opened his mouth as if to say something, but nothing came out. He felt around your tummy– a big, goofy grin spread across his face, completely out of character. You laughed as your child kicked again, happily following their fathers hands with their small feet. “They can feel you,” You hummed and Flaco nodded enthusiastically, eyes and hands glued to your stomach, pure amazement spread across his face.
The kicking died down, but Flaco’s happy grin remained as he gently stroked your belly. You gently brushed your fingertips over his big hands. “I think they fell asleep,” You said quietly, sighing contentedly at the feeling of your lover's hands on your body.
“Let’s go back inside, hm, cariño?” He asked, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. You nodded tiredly and leaned up against him, letting him lead you back into the small cabin for some well-deserved rest.
a/n: hi, can we talk about the TRAUMA from having to shoot old man pookie? Like for a while I genuinely didn’t know you could spare him lol and I felt so bad about having to shoot him 🤨 I only play rdr2 for the aesthetic, Flaco being that aesthetic lol.
So anyway I hope y’all like this bc I was honestly kinda embarrassed to post it??? Idk, but I really hope to make more rdr stuff in the future bc I have so many ideas cooking rn (I’ll also get back to the Judd stuff but there’s so much I wanna re do with it).
