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angelfoodcake222 · 2 years ago

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Title: Soft!Villain!Bruno x Outsider!Female!reader (Pt. 1/?)

TW [Trigger Warning]: Abuse, slander/villainizing, arranged marriage (not to Bruno), running away, NSFW/NSFS/mature content with just a touch of fluff. Translations at the end. Enjoy

[I know that's Camillo but just roll with it for the story's sake]

You were the woman of Encanto's peaks. The outsider. Of course, the fellow outcast you were playfully fighting with over your mountain-based home's floor, equally tipsy after a few too many glasses of something strong from a dark bottle pinched from Julieta's stash, didn't care in the slightest about such titles.

Such designations were always useless & grew generic over time. The play fighting had started over you two mocking each other's physical integrity in a wrestling match & soon, kittenish slap fighting at your two-person table moved to the floor with rolls & noogies. How had you two ended up here, horsing around in your house, far from the footing of its base that you left in favor of somewhere in your teens, without a care in all of La Encanto? Let's turn back the clock a bit.

You had lived in these mountains since the night your own parents voiced their abhorrent thoughts about you & how they only kept you because of their lack of fertility compacted with the small population of the freshly settled Encanto weighing on their choices. You had been born nearly two years after the Madrigal Triplets, thus you often snuck off from your strict parents to hide in Casita Madrigal with the only near-aged children you knew whenever things were getting to be too much for even you.

It [Casita] always welcomed you with a waving window shutter, tiles tumbling rhythmically, general nice greetings you comprehended to mean love. You learned to cook alongside Julieta, soothe &/or outlast Pepa's rapidly shifting mood-driven climates, but most of all, you learned more about the family's black sheep; Bruno Madrigal. The soul son of Pedro & Alma Madrigal. You learned his habits, interests, likes, dislikes, the names of his little furry friends, but most importantly, you learned more about his gift. Julieta has healing abilities, Pepa has weather abilities, & Bruno has the gift of prophecy; though he referred to it as a curse when out of Alma's earshot.

Yes, he could foresee events before they happen (mostly dreadful ones), but this came at a cost like the other gifts. Debilitating headaches/migraines/cluster migraines, energy plunges, singed fingers from starting the little fire that sat between him & the most likely ill-mannered recipient of his vision(s), chronic nose bleeds. All were bad enough as is, but the people & his own family began villainizing & slandering him even though he was only doing as he was told by his Mámá. This upset you a fair deal, but Bruno assured you he was fine. The placement of his room said otherwise. It was between his sisters' rooms, but it had moved, or rather, shaped itself into a tower.

By the time both of you had reached your late teens, your parents tried to marry you off to one of Bruno's main bullies that had picked on you for sympathizing with the head family's outcast of a son. Obviously, you objected strongly which was met with scathing responses from both of your parents about how ungrateful you were. You snapped back with your long-suppressed thoughts on them & the village you had grown to loathe in your considerably short lifetime at that time. You defended your dearest friend, stating that he was most likely given such a gift to aid the people in preparing for oncoming tragedies in their lives or to brace for it so they'd never have to suffer again as they did not too long ago, at least; a priceless gift when wielded & responded to correctly. Venomous words shot from your mouth until something stopped you midsentence.

At first, you only heard the slap & noticed your eyes' focus had moved from your enraged parent to the wall beside you, the stinging came soon after. When you slowly looked back to your still-scolding parent who was ignoring the equally stunned parent behind them, all you could hear is ringing in your ear. Without eating, you were sent to your room where you found your things already packed up. That is, if they weren't thrown away first, should they not fit with your parent's ideas of "fitting" or "perfect". You sat on your bare bed, spotting the large, handmade, leather overnight bag you had assembled hanging over one of your rocking chair's arms negligently, your ruana you made to be the same as Bruno's but in your favorite colors draped over the other soaking up the last bit of daylight as the sun set rapidly, & the few casual one-piece dresses that had been tossed onto the floor alongside your second pair of casual sandals.

A pristine, white, multi-piece dress hung pridefully on a hook nailed to your door with a veil & brand new wedding sandals hanging on the wall-bound rack beside it. It made you want to burn that house to the ground but then you'd hurt innocent people in a fling of rage when your anger bolted for those guilty of causing it.

"Suficiente es suficiente." you mutter to yourself with clenched fists.

Without raising your parents' suspicions from downstairs, you stood from your miserable cot, packed the leather bag with the discarded dresses & sandals, a brush some ties for your hair, your thick journal you had hidden in the floorboards with many pencils before cloaking yourself in the hooded ruana & snaking your way out of your room's window, silently making your way through the balmy night to Casita.

More specifically, you walked to the side of Bruno's recently formed tower. Its bricks move & shift to your aid as you scaled the side like a scene out of a fairytale. Once you reached one of his opened windows, you see Bruno curled up in his bed with his small companions resting on the pillow beside him. Casita welcomed you into the young man's room with fluttering shutters, as it had done countless times on nights like these, knowing the pain you were feeling better than anyone. You give the pane a doting pat before sliding your feet to the floor.

Your favorite times were when it shifted the stairs up to his room to be a sort of reversed slide that brought you up to & down from his slowly rising room that's been developing gradually over time. The two of you would spend hours going up & down, your coupled laughs echoing in the space around you. You know no one will be able to hear you in his room unless they were there with you or had a superhuman hearing, so you walk normally to his bedside with his back turned to you.

"Psst! Bruno? Are you awake?" You gently give his shoulder a poke. He stirs & rolls over to groggily question why you were in his room so late in the night, rubbing his olive greens to adjust to the moon's soft light filtering into his room through the open window. Once you give an abridged gist of what happened & he sees the darkening handprint on your face, he wakes up fully. If you hadn't managed to calm him down, who knows what he'd done?

When he does start talking angrily, you press your fingertips to his lips softly, silently asking your beloved childhood friend to calm himself before he drives himself into one of his frazzled frenzies. You almost hadn't noticed the peach fuzz there, lining his edges in an almost target-like pattern, that fuzz you had idly fidgeted with when the two of you shared a book he was holding when it had just started growing almost a year ago.

"I came to say that you're the only person in all of Encanto that I can trust. That means you are the only one to who I can say this with all of my confidence; I am going to the mountains & I might not be returning until this agujero del infierno gets any better, maybe less cruel. You may visit me if you wish. I'll set up a hidden path you can use to come & go as you please but you have to be careful so nobody follows you."

You pause to allow your words to soak into his memory a bit better. His face showed many emotions. Too many to be read in the moment. You weren't sure if he was about to talk again, but you were sure of his questions.

Can I come with you? The community may not like him, but you know he'd be miserable without his sisters with him. True, Pepa has been showing some aggression towards him since they were children, but Julieta still loves him dearly. That, & his Mámá would find a seamless way to convince the whole of Encanto to search from the peeks of its encircling mountains to the bottoms of the rivers for the black sheep of the Madrigal triplets, no excuses. That could lead to not only him being punished somehow, but you meeting the non-consented marital trial you were trying to avoid.

Will you be okay on your own? Yes, you had been learning how to survive in the mountains from years of running off for a night or two at times when your parents basically turned the village upside down looking for you, including La Casita Madrigal. Señora Alma was not happy about the sudden searches, not at all. Thankfully for you, Julieta convinced her to let you come back whenever she was baking as the company kept her sane in the more pressured times. Plus, more food meant more healing & less waiting.

Will you visit? Not in the conventional sense. You'd most likely find a tucan that lives in the peaks & ask them to bring him letters you'd probably have to tear from your journal pages for easy carrying. Returning to the place you viewed as a large, enchanted form of imprisonment is a definite no-go. Not anytime soon, at least.

You softly smile at the soul person who treated you as an equal, planting a soft kiss on his warm, peach-fuzz-blanketed cheek & backed up with a meek gesture, sliding from the window to the ground with Casita's (mostly) soundless help. Waving tepidly to the young man who held your heart then & now, you vanish into the mountains to start a life all your own with an inadvertently theatric flair of your ruana's long, laced fabrics.

The trek about the mountains was filled with turmoil, self-degradation, & a deep wish to have a home... With Bruno Madrigal. Yes, he was & is your bestest friend in the world & your only true confidante, but there was something deeper there that you had just been waxing over since you first met him upon his Mamá's insistent attempts for you, the lone undating girl in your family, to have your future read.

You were told your future would be read, not asked. That was one of the many things that drew you two so close together & the fuel to that spark quickly emerging from its nook. If you remember correctly, he foretold you would be separated from your family for your own good, which you prayed for from then to now. So lost in your thoughts of living with that olive-eyed darling, you didn't notice the scenery shifting around you. Much to your astonishment, the mountains act like Casita but with a more nature-like aesthetic. It even spawned you a sort of hut that grew & matured with you over time; from a hut to a small house. A place where you'd be safe no matter what. Your querencia.

Years passed, rendering you into a lovely woman in your mid/late twenties with your Querido Bruno not too far from your age. The search for you was expansive, but the mountains refused to let the party exceed a few paces past its base which effectively trapped anyone explicitly seeking you out. Well, those who sought to entrap you, to ensnare you in their web of demands. Only one man was exempt from such barriers.

Bruno Madrigal; your macizo, your bombón, your amado, adorador amante~. Your recollections tapped out once you found yourself pinned to the floor by said ameante via your palms. Not roughly, just strong enough to get your attention. Bruno & you were giggling up a fit until he can mostly gather himself enough to speak.

"Diosa, Y/N! Usually, you're the winner of these things. What's in that mente deslumbrante of yours tonight?" You chuckle, blushing at the closing proximity, turning your head to the side.

"It's nothing, Bruno. Just a trip down memory lane is all."

"Oh~? Pray tell, what lane did you go down this time?" He rests most of his lower body's weight over your lower self, an act both of you have done many times before, now was no exception, while sipping on the last of his nightcap he had plucked from the table after pining you down. You hesitate shortly, eventually asking if he remembered the first time the two of you had ever met in your youths. He blinks at you, those lush olive oases you have only fallen deeper into since day one not batting or moving from yours for a second until he spoke.

"How could I forget?" He set his drink to the side, slowly rested his upper body's weight on his hands' heels pressing into the floor on either side of you, leaning back to let you turn your head to him after you got the last few chuckles out of your system, then began giving his account of that day. It was somewhere between morning & noon when your parents brought you to have your fortune told. You looked so beautiful, & yet so internally overwrought: A formal maxi dress colored in (your) personally unfavored hues with boring details & trimmings, your hair stylized to fit the occasion, less-than-comfortable shoes despite his Mámá's warnings of the many steps leading to his vision cave though there weren't so many back then. That's not to say there weren't a decent few to climb. The stairs never bothered you, nor the heights, you focused on what awaited you at their end.

You had to go in alone for the reading to be performed as 'perfectly' as possible. 'Perfect', Bruno hated that word more than you did. Something he heard so much that the word & all its implications held nothing for him now. When you arrived at his cave's stone door, it rolling aside for your huffing self, he couldn't take his eyes off of you for a moment. The chastely authentic politeness you expressed to him, a 'being of bad visions, prophecies & sealed fates' as the whole of the Encanto put it, made him so happy to have you there yet grieved over the reading as it would undoubtedly yield a bad vision. You assured him that, since it wasn't your idea in the first place, you wouldn't be mad or upset, you wouldn't even so much as cast a vorpal glare on him. With that & your soft encouragement, the reading began.

In the spirals of green-lit sand, you saw yourself climbing the peaks surrounding the Encanto in a long, hooded ruana like his but in your style & favored hues, its soft-laced ends whipping in the wind as your hood flipped back to show you as a young woman. That was all good & strong imagery, but your eyes were the crowning jewel of the vision; mountainous, Casita-like background be damned. Your elder double's [E/C] eyes were highlighted by [F/C] halos, completely tearing through the ill-illuminated sands as she reached out to who you both thought was yourself at that time.

The sands fell all around & over you, distracting you from Bruno plucking a pane of emerald-like glass from its levitating position that neared him, using it as a shield against the plummeting grains. Being his first decent (not bad/horrible/disastrous) vision, Brunito was stunned, to say the least, your sporadic hug of thanks stunned him further but he found it in himself not to cower back or shove you off. Habits that swiftly formed for obvious reasons.

After you went back to your parents, he stashed the vision & followed in your shadow, keeping hidden from everyone with a bit of Casita's help as you slow to a full stop ahead of the table where your parents & Senora Madrigal sat waiting for you, cups of respective drinks before them. When asked about your experience, he tensed in preparation of the usual slander but true to your initial nature, you smile.

"I'll be living a healthy, happy life with my beloved." Your cheery smile & dancing steps made the three adults sigh in relief. The rest of your youth was spent adhering to your parents' wishes & doing as you were told until the night you left for the mountain, just as Brunito predicted. He hated seeing your beautiful visage singed by the scathing words of those around you, so much to the point where he was willing to commit to the vision himself, family name be condemned.

Bruno had stuck to the background, ever as pleased as the first time when you'd stop to speak with him. He still has that vision safely stashed away in his room somewhere. He finishes the tale off by noting how much he despised your parents & his confusion about how someone as sweet as you came from a couple of sour Tiranos like them. You smirk, asking him how someone as [adorably] imperfect & scruffy came from someone like Señorita Eterna Perfeccionista, earning a stalemate of chortles. The giggles stop once Bruno stands & hoists you to your bare feet.

"Come, My Lady, let's take another stroll before we end our night together." You obliged merrily, slipping ahead while pulling him through the now-opened door of your home. The walk was lovely; a crescent moon, stars as far as the eye can see, nothing can be heard but the natural lullaby of the local fauna surrounding you both. On one steep incline in front of your front door, one you had adapted to quickly, you turned around to extend your open hand to assist Bruno past that spot. However, he froze there, staring at you in awe. You blink, nervously laughing at his bizarre shift in behavior until you simultaneously connected the dots. He spoke, whispered:

"La visión era de nosotros!"

Translations:

Mámá = Mama/Momma, mom, mother, etc.

Casita = house/home.

Agujero del infierno = Hellhole (???)

Querencia = haunt.

Querido = dear.

Macizo = solid, strong (???)

bombón = like chocolate, scrumptious

amado, adorador amante = beloved, adoring lover.

Diosa = (fem.) "Jeez!"

Mente deslumbrante = dazzling mind

La Encanto = The Enchanted/Enchantment.

Suficiente es suficiente = Enough is enough

Tiranos = Tyrants

Señorita Eterna Perfeccionista = Miss Eternal Perfectionist

La visión era de nosotros! = "The vision was of us!"

A/N: WHOO💨!!!! This took way too long to do! 😵‍💫 I hope y'all enjoyed it! Sorry if this came out too mild for an M rating but I was just being cautious. The next part will be spicy, scouts' honor. I might write some more of this if it gains enough traction, but we'll see. Leave requests in the comments here or message me. You can find me on Wattpad by the moniker of Angel_Foodie_99.

Buh-bye~!

#mature #writers on tumblr #reader insert #just thinking #fanfiction writer #bruno madrigal x reader #bruno madrigal #prompts #I need to brush up on my Spanish #Bruno Madrigal brain rot #prompts needed

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julietsf1 · 2 months ago

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Post-Race Snuggles - Franco Colapinto x Reader

Summary: After an intense Singapore GP, Franco’s idea of the perfect cool down is snuggling up in his girlfriend’s lap; very fluff <3

warnings: possibly incorrect Spanish?

AN - I can't keep lying to myself I think I am not just on here to read anymore lmao, this one is just 1k but I have another longer story coming tomorrow or so! enjoy my lovelies

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The sticky warmth of Singapore’s night air clung to me as I sat in Franco’s motorhome, waiting for him to return. I flicked through some post-race coverage on my phone, knowing how drained he must be after a race like that. The screen showed him smiling during the interviews, but I knew better—Franco’s green eyes gave away just how tired he was.

When the door creaked open, I glanced up and saw him there, looking utterly exhausted, his brown hair messy and damp from the heat. His race suit was unzipped, hanging loosely around his waist. Franco didn’t say anything—he didn’t need to. He walked over with heavy steps, wrapped his arms around me, and buried his face into my shoulder.

“Hi there.” I laughed softly, reaching up to run my fingers through his hair. It was fluffier than usual, curling slightly from the sweat and humidity. “Tough day?”

He let out a low groan, not bothering to lift his head. “Si…” His voice was muffled, and I could feel the exhaustion in the way his body leaned into mine. “So tired.”

I smiled softly, running my hand down his back, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath the fabric of his suit. Suddenly, Franco shifted, pulling back just enough to take my hand in his. His eyes, though heavy with fatigue, met mine for a brief moment, and without a word, he gently tugged me down onto the couch beside him.

With a quiet sigh, he laid back, guiding my body to follow his until I was leaning into him. His head found its way into my lap as he settled in. I felt his hand resting on my waist first, a soft, grounding touch, before it slid down to rest comfortably on my thigh. His thumb moved lazily, tracing small circles, as if he needed to hold onto me even in his tired state.

“You want me to make you something? Mate, or a snack?” I asked quietly, brushing my fingers through his hair, feeling the warmth radiating from his skin.

He shook his head slowly. “No, just this. Esto es todo lo que necesito.” His voice was soft, the Spanish slipping out naturally as his eyes fluttered closed. His arms loosened slightly around my legs, his thumb brushing lazily against my thigh, the lightest touch, as if even that small movement required too much effort.

I chuckled, running my hand through his hair again, smoothing it down where it stuck up in odd places. “You did amazing today. P11! I’m so proud of you.”

A faint smile curved his lips. His breathing started to slow, the tension melting away as I continued stroking his hair. This was my favorite version of Franco—the quiet, soft one who didn’t need to be witty or flirty. Just the one who wanted to be close.

Franco’s weight settled fully against me, his eyes were shut now, his messy curls resting in my lap. His thumb continued its slow, lazy patterns on my leg, the sweet small gesture sending warmth through me. His skin was warm from the heat of the race, his hair slightly damp, and I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he looked, even when he was this tired. His lashes were long, his green eyes hidden behind them, and his lips, parted slightly as he breathed, were soft, with the faintest smile still playing there.

“You looked so good out there today,” I whispered, knowing he probably couldn’t hear me in his tired state. “Fast, confident… and you know, kind of cute with all that sweaty hair.”

He let out a soft, breathy chuckle. “Most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”

I grinned. “Don’t get used to it. I’m only nice to you when you’re too tired to remember.”

His lips twitched into a smile, but he didn’t respond, his breathing evening out even more. The motorhome was dimly lit, casting soft shadows, making everything feel even cozier. The sounds outside—people moving around the paddock, the distant hum of engines cooling down—faded away. It was just us, tangled up in the warmth of each other’s presence.

As I stroked his hair, I could feel him relax completely. His body was fully at ease, and I knew he was almost asleep. He looked so peaceful, his usual spark of energy tucked away for the night. I smiled down at him, my heart full. These moments, after the chaos of race days, were our little slice of quiet, where it felt like the world didn’t exist outside this motorhome.

Franco shifted slightly, nuzzling deeper into my lap. I thought he was fully asleep until his voice broke the silence, soft and raspy.

“Te amo,” he murmured, his eyes barely open, heavy with exhaustion.

My heart skipped a beat. He’d said it before, but hearing it now, with his defenses down, made it feel different. I glanced down, expecting to see him fully asleep, but instead, those green eyes peeked up at me through his lashes, tired but full of something deeper.

I felt a rush of warmth fill my chest. “I love you too,” I whispered, leaning down to kiss his forehead again, my fingers gently running through his hair.

His eyes fluttered shut at the kiss, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Más que a nada en el mundo…” he mumbled, his voice trailing off into sleep, the weight of his words lingering between us like a quiet promise.

I stayed like that, holding him close as he drifted off completely, my hand still in his hair, thinking about how easy it was to love him—especially in moments like this.

#formula one #franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto #fc43 x reader #franco colapinto imagine #f1 x reader

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