Itâs crazy for me the amount of BTS we are getting from âDe Nocheâ. There are so many videos..like..if i am not wrong we didnât have this before, we barely got anything from âBehemothâ
Also..where is Danny??? Itâs like he isnât even a part of this movie đ„Ž
Alright, how hard is for some of you to understand that the man is making a movie that requires of him to be clean shaven? Or are you all complaining for the sake of it. The man is filming!! Many actors needed to change the way they look for the sake of a role! I know not everyone likes the change but complaining for something that is a part of the character he is playing? Like?? What is he gonna do say the production team..oh sorry i need the mustache back cause people hate how i look?
Do you realize how ridiculous it sounds?
Also⊠please learn to separate the actor from his characters! Pedro is Pedro! And itâs his wonderful acting that gave us Joel..Javi..etc⊠he isnât them though so i donât think itâs fair to ask him to be them.
Pairing: Frankie Morales x pregnant!reader
Summary: Frankie wanted to surprise you with something he's been working on. He just wants to make you happy and be the father of your child that they deserve.
Warnings: established relationship, none apart from pregnancy, just pure fluff
Word count: 2.9k
A/N: Let's see how the second try goes! Thank you @berryispunk and @jadesmultifandom for being my beta readers and pulling me back from the edge of a meltdown! (Well, since then I already had that meltdown)
Being seven months pregnant was definitely not as easy as you imagined. Your back was aching all the time, and it seemed like nothing could ease that pain. Your feet became sore, and the little one loved to dance on your bladder, sending you to the bathroom every thirty minutes. But at least, the unbearable nausea faded that you were suffering with in the beginning.
You still had to get used to not being able to see your own feet and ask for Frankieâs help for tying your shoes. And since heâs the best husband in the world, he always crouches in front of you without any complaint, happy to help you with anything that would make your pregnancy easier.
You woke up surprisingly early, earlier than you did in weeks now. A streak of sunlight painted your face in the shade of orange, the clock ticking on the wall and the birds chirping outside in the little tree under your window. You turned on your side with a groan, your eyes still closed as you instinctively reached out for Frankie, but your fingers only bunched up the empty sheets.
Cold. No trace of your husband.
Your eyes instantly opened, looking around the room to see if he was anywhere nearby. But the room was quiet and there wasnât any sound coming from the bathroom either that would indicate heâs in there.
You sat up slowly â another thing that was harder to do with every passing day â and you swung your legs over the edge of the bed, dragging your palm across your face in an attempt to chase away the sleep. It seemed like the baby sensed that you were awake, starting up a whole party in your stomach. One particularly hard kick landed straight against your bladder making you flinch a little. You put your hand over your belly, feeling the movements under your palm.
âGood morning to you too, little Morales,â you murmured before throwing on one of Frankieâs shirts. You slowly waddled to the bathroom â something that Frankie always teased you about â and freshened up, the cold water hitting your face, your body instantly gaining more energy because of it. Your gaze fell on your reflection in the mirror and you shook your head, immediately looking away instead. Itâs gotten harder to recognize your changing body in the mirror.
After finishing up in the bathroom, you wandered around the house searching for Frankie. It wasnât his thing to wake up early, especially not since he did everything to make you feel better, even if it meant running to the diner in the middle of the night when you craved chocolate milkshakes.
When you arrived downstairs, you heard faint sounds coming from the garage, accompanied with low Spanish curses. Of course he was busy with something again, why didnât you think of that? Frankie started fixing and building things after he came back from the mission with the boys. Said it made him feel useful, that he could express himself this way. Obviously, it wasnât as freeing as flying, but it was a good distraction nonetheless.
The door was slightly open, allowing you to peek inside and you saw Frankie hunched over an old rocking chair, his broad back facing you. The chair was old â probably older than both of you together â the paint was chipped, and one of its legs was broken. Frankie had a sanding paper in his hand, working on smoothing out the rough surface of the wood.
You didnât say anything, only pushed the door open a little more and leaned against the doorframe, watching how every muscle flexed in his body as he worked. His messy curls fell in front of his eyes without his beloved cap holding them in place. He was a pleasant sight to see, and it made you feel lucky to call him your husband and soon the father of your first child.
You spent a few more minutes like this, you only snapped out of your trance when he stood up and lifted his shirt to wipe away the sweat on his face, revealing more of his body to you. You decided this was the moment to speak up, and let him know that you were there for a longer time.
âThought you said you donât like waking up early, Mr. Morales.â
He nearly fell face first to the ground as you startled him and he tripped over his own legs, but he regained his balance in the last second. You tried to muffle your laugh with your hand, and he snapped his head in your direction, mock offense flickered across his face, though a small, playful smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
âMrs. Morales, I see youâre up early too.â
He slowly walked up to you, his hands coming around your waist and pulling you as close as your bump allowed. He kissed you softly then rested his forehead against yours, his palm falling onto your stomach. He didnât even wait until you said anything, just crouched down in front of you and placed a kiss on it as well.
âAnd good morning to you too, little one,â he whispered, his eyes never leaving yours as your fingers tangled in his unruly curls. âDid I wake you up?â
âNo, you didnât. But this baby boy was throwing a party inside as soon as I opened my eyes.â
âIs that so?â he asked, then leaned closer to you again. âIs that right, little pea? Youâre not letting your mama sleep?â
You looked back at the rocking chair standing in the middle of the garage, sawdust swirling in the air as the sun shone into the little space. He was still talking to your belly with quite awe, but you were too curious.
âWhat are you doing here anyway?â
Frankie cleared his throat before he stood up, looking back-and-forth between the weathered chair and your form. He nervously scratched the back of his neck, his free hand resting on his hips as he fell into thought. He was clearly contemplating whether he should tell you the truth of what he was working on or not.
âYou werenât supposed to see this yet. I wanted it to be a surprise,â he finally said with a sheepish look, his eyes warm with affection. âFound this chair at a garage sale. Itâs old I know, but I thought I could revamp it. Maybe we could put it into the nursery. Itâs not something newly bought from a shop, but itâs something that has a story behind it.â
You listened to him as he explained it, a smile creeping onto your face. He did all of this â for you, for himself â so you could sit in this chair, rocking your baby in the quiet hours of the night. You didnât wait for him to finish; you cut him off with a tender kiss that he slowly melted into. Your arms came around his neck, pulling him even closer. You stepped back from him, looking up into his eyes.
âIâll go and make some breakfast for us,â you said as you turned, but he caught your wrist. You looked at him surprised as he shook his head.
âI already made breakfast before I came in here. I made you your favourite and also three different types of pancakes because I didnât know which one you would crave today. Just wanted to make sure your day started off nicely.â
You could feel the tears gathering in your eyes, and you silently cursed your hormones for making you so emotional about his thoughtfulness. You stayed silent, and Frankie probably took it as a bad sign, the smile immediately falling from his face as he saw your mood change. His hand tightened around yours, worry etched in every corner of his features.
âBut I can make something else if you donât want pancakes or if you donât crave your favourite right now. Iâm pretty sure we still have some waffles too somewhere, so if youââ
You put your hand over his mouth, shutting him up.Â
âIâm not⊠Itâs perfect, Frankie. Itâs just the stupid hormones,â you informed him, and he let out a relieved sigh before wiping away the stray tears that managed to escape with a soft smile. âThe pancakes sound amazing.â
âCome on then!âÂ
He guided you out of the garage, pulling you into the kitchen where the table was fully set. He gave your temple a quick kiss before he disappeared in the bathroom to wash away the sawdust and dirt from his hands. You sat down until then, already putting together the perfect breakfast. He even made some tea that you reached for.
âThereâs also decaf coffee,â he called out as he came back, now in different clothes. Your head snapped in his direction as he pulled two plates and two mugs from the cupboard, surprise flickering across your face once again.
âBut we ran out of it yesterday.â
âYeah, but I made a quick run to that little shop nearby and bought another package.â He set the tableware down in front of you, making sure you had a little bit of everything on your plate. âSo, I made chocolate, blueberry and strawberry pancakes. Which one?â
âChocolate,â you murmured with a smile, and he looked at you, brown eyes glinting in the sunlight shining through the open curtains, making them look softer than usual.
âWhat?â
âNothing. Youâre just perfect, â you watched as his face turned two shades darker and he let out a nervous laugh. When he sat down across from you, you both started eating in silence. Steam curled from the tea in front of you, and outside, the faint sounds of your neighbors starting their day drifted through the quiet. Your train of thought was interrupted by him calling you by your name.
âSorry?â
âI was just asking if you thought about names yet,â he said between two bites.
You almost forgot that you didnât talk about possible names yet. You swallowed the last bite of your food before looking at him. His eyes were intrigued as he waited for your reaction.
âNot that much. There are names that I like, but I donât know what you would think.â
âIf you donât tell me, weâll never know,â he smiled, encouraging you to share what you had in mind for the youngest member of your family.
âOf all the names I thought about, the one that I like the most is probably Mateo,â you told him, and he set down his fork mid bite. He murmured the name under his breath a few times, testing how it rolled off of his tongue, how it sounded with his family name behind it. He hummed in agreement as he collected the emptied plates and walked over to the sink.
âIt sounds good, baby. I like it.â
âBut I had another one in mind too,â you murmured, and he looked back at you for a second before continuing to wash the plates. âAlthough itâs not that creativeâŠâ
âNow youâre making me curious.â
You stood up from your place and walked up to him, hugging him from behind as much as you could. Your hand rested on his chest, his heart beating rhythmically against your palm.
âWhat if we had a little Francisco?â
His movements stopped, his whole body going stiff under your touch. The plate clattered loudly in the sink as it slipped from his hold. He quickly regained his composure, wiping his hand on a cloth before turning around in your arms. His hand unconsciously fell on your bump, and he opened his mouth, but no sound came out, the words completely stuck in his throat.
âI donât⊠I donât understand,â he mumbled, shaking his head in disbelief. Your hand came up to caress his cheek, the rough stubble scratching against your skin.
âFor the name. What if we named him Francisco, just like his papa? Or maybe as a second name? Mateo Francisco Morales.â
âThatâs⊠I donât know what to say, cariño.â His voice was low, choked with emotion. You saw how his eyes fogged up, but no tears fell. He leaned into your touch, his thumb drawing circles on your belly, where his hand still rested.
âYou donât have to say anything right now, just think about it.â
He gave you a nod before he leaned down and captured your lips with his. The kiss wasnât hungry or desperate, it was full of love and affection instead. Your arms came around his neck, your fingers tangling in the dark brown curls at his nape as you pulled him closer. It felt like the kiss lasted minutes, though in reality, it was only a few fleeting seconds. In the end it was you who pulled back and smiled as he let out a nervous laugh.Â
âMateo Francisco Morales,â he whispered, looking down between your bodies where your bump met his stomach. Your baby boy chose this moment to remind you that heâs still there, landing another powerful kick. Frankie jumped back a little, letting out a disbelieving laugh. âThat was a hard one.â
âBelieve me, this wasnât the worst.â
âGo back to bed and sleep some more, cariño. You deserve it,â he placed a kiss on your forehead before he leaned down to your stomach. âAnd you, little pea, let your mama rest for a little while, alright?â He only got another kick in return, and Frankie took it as a sign that he understood him. Then he quickly spun you around, guiding you back into the bedroom before he went back to the garage to work on the chair.
â-â
The next time you woke up it was way past noon. The sun was already high above the sky. You tossed and turned around in the bed for several more minutes, not really finding the energy to move yet. When you finally did, you waddled down the hall to check on Frankie, who possibly was still working in the garage, but you had to stop in your tracks when you saw the nursery door half open on your way there, soft humming coming from the room.
You walked up to it as quietly as possible and peeked inside. The sight that you saw almost made you forget everything else in the world, only this moment remaining.
Frankie was sitting in the finished chair, softly rocking back and forth. He was holding a teddy bear that he had insisted on buying for your baby, close to his heart, eyes closed. The humming was clearer now, muffled words leaving his lips too. But you still recognized the melody, something that he used to sing to your bump every night before going to bed. A song his mother used to sing to him when he was little.
You were completely mesmerized. The man you loved preparing to be the best father in the world.
A sob tore out of you, and he instantly looked in your direction, his eyes snapping open. There wasnât any point in hiding anymore so you stepped into the nursery, closing the door behind you. He extended his arm in your direction as an invitation to come closer to him, and you obliged without any second thoughts. When you were close enough, he spread his legs wider and pulled you into his lap, the chair creaking under both of your weight.
Neither of you said anything for a suspended minute, only sat there in silence, looking at the white clouds painted on the walls. His palm was resting on your belly while the other one was still clutching the bear close to him. His forehead was resting against your shoulder, his breath warm on your skin.
âI canât wait to sit here and rock with Mateo in my arms,â he murmured into the quietness, the name rolling off of his lips easily like it was second nature. âTo teach him everything. How to be a good man, how to treat his mama right, how to treat other people rightâŠâÂ
He fell quiet for a few seconds before he continued, this time with a warmer tone. âHow to be better than his papa.â
âFrankieâŠâ your voice was soft, but the warning tone in it was clear.Â
âNo, no. Itâs the truth. I donât want him to do the same terrible things I did in the past,â he confessed, and hugged you a bit tighter, burying his face in the crook of your neck.
âYouâre going to be the best father in the world, you already are, Frankie.â He let out a quiet laugh at that, so you continued. âYou've been taking care of us since the day you found out that Iâm pregnant. Youâre cooking for us, doing the laundry, building things for the baby, youâre even willing to try the weirdest cravings with me.â
He lifted his head to look you in the eyes, a smirk creeping into the corner of his mouth.
âItâs true that they can get very weird sometimes,â he said, which earned him a playful slap on his chest. He tried to look upset with you, but the laugh lines soon creased beside his eyes, and before long, the most beautiful laugh broke free from his chest.
âThe chair turned out perfect, by the way,â you murmured as your fingers carded through his unruly curls that were getting out of hand at this point.
âYeah, it turned out perfect,â he whispered too, but his eyes werenât trained on the rocking chair, he was looking at your bump instead, caressing it with uttermost care. âIt turned out really good. Better than I expected.â
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