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average-dilf-enjoyer · 7 months

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KINKTOBER

Day 3: Roleplay + Bruno Madrigal (Encanto)

Pairing: Bruno Madrigal/f!reader

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 1.5K

Warnings: Fingering, PIV sex, consensual dubcon (is that what you call it??), this is cringe I’m so sorry

A/N: Honestly just expect every fic to be rushed asf and/or slightly late because I have ten million things to do every day 😭😭 literally proofread this at 3:00 am

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You loved the Madrigals, you really did. Hell, you were married to one of them. But they could be a bit… overwhelming.

You and Bruno couldn’t even get a moment alone on your anniversary of all days, despite how much you tried. And oh, you tried, but you were constantly interrupted by people wanting to congratulate the two of you, wishing you happiness in your marriage and even giving you gifts. And when they threw a party for the two of you near the end of the day, you knew it would be late at night by the time you would get time alone. You appreciated it, of course, but all you really wanted to do was get in bed with your husband.

It was near midnight before you finally got to escape to your bedroom. After wishing everyone a good night and thanking them for everything, the two of you rushed to your room before anyone could interrupt again.

As soon as the door was locked he pulled you to him and kissed you. “Mierda, I thought we’d never get away,” he chuckled between kisses. “‘M sorry, mi vida. They mean well, it’s just…”

“Mm, I know. It’s sweet of them to do all of this for us,” you assured him, taking his hand and dragging him to the bed.

Bruno grinned as you pulled him onto the mattress with you, threading his fingers with yours as he laid next to you. “Yeah… I mean, it’s nice, but I’ve been dying to get alone all day,” he sighed, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb.

You cupped his cheek in your hand. “Well we have now, don’t we?”

He nodded, climbing over you. “Yeah… gonna make up for all the time we lost today,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss at your neck.

“Y’know, I was thinking… maybe we could do something different tonight..?” you whispered back, slightly nervous about his reaction to what you’re about to suggest.

He leaned away to look at you, a small smile playing on his lips. “What is it?”

“Um… well…” you took a deep breath, trying to steel your nerves. “Have you ever heard of, uh… roleplay?”

He gave you a knowing smirk, leaning closer. “Yeah..?”

“Um. Well, I was thinking, maybe we could try it?”

He kissed you again, sweet and gentle. “Sounds fun. What’d you have in mind?”

“Well, I was thinking maybe you could play a thief breaking into my home or something..?” you suggested, still shy.

He nodded, fully paying attention, and you had no idea how he wasn’t laughing at you. You felt ridiculous for even mentioning it. “Okay,” he said. Simple, no judgement or amusement in his voice. You would even go so far as to say he sounded excited. “You sure you wanna do this?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Alright then, let’s do it,” he agreed with a smile and a kiss to your cheek.

“You better have been telling the truth when you said your real gift is acting.”

You awoke to a thud from somewhere in your house. You sat up, rubbing your eyes. “Wha..?” you groaned to yourself, getting up to search for the source of the noise. You didn’t even get to the door before you found your answer.

You screamed when the man appeared in your doorway, and he quickly silenced you with a hand over your mouth.

“Shut. Up.” he seethed, grabbing you hard and pushing you back onto your bed. “You're gonna let me have my way, got it?”

You nodded wordlessly, too afraid to speak.

He nodded in return. “Good.”

You watched in terror as he went through your room, knocking things to the ground and searching your drawers.

“This real gold?” he asked, holding up a necklace he found on your dresser.

“Yes,” you said quietly, terrified of what he might do to you if you lied.

He hummed and pocketed the piece of jewelry, then turned to you, eyeing you up and down. "Mierda, you're pretty. I couldn't see you well before, but now that I've got a better view, I think I might take you too."

You felt a chill run down your spine at his words. Take you..? You weren't sure what he meant, and you didn't think you wanted to. He started walking towards you and you squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for whatever he was about to do. What you didn't expect was for his hands to grip your wrists, pushing you back onto the mattress as he climbed over you. Your eyes flew open. "Sir..."

He grinned as you whimpered under him. "I'm gonna make a deal with you. You let me fuck you, I'll leave."

Your eyes widened at his proposal, a mix of fear and arousal swirling in your gut. "And if I don't?"

The man chuckled darkly, his grip tightening on your wrists. "I'll make sure there isn't a single valuable item left in this entire house. Your choice, cariña."

You gaze up at his eyes, now darkened with lust, weighing your options. Surely it would be easier to just let him do this... and you certainly couldn't afford to lose all of your possessions. "You can fuck me," you answered meekly.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," he growled, letting go of one wrist so he could unbutton his pants.

You whimpered involuntarily when his other hand left your wrist to slide up your shirt, running along the skin, "Dios, you're soft..."

"Please don't hurt me..." you whispered shakily as he moved his hands to the hem of your skirt.

"I won't," he assured you, sliding down your skirt and panties, surprisingly gentle. "All you gotta do is lay there and keep looking pretty."

You nodded, eyes wide as his eyes roamed your body, drinking you in. His fingers gently prodded at your entrance, and you hissed at the feeling of his cold fingers on your heat.

His eyes never left yours as two of his long, thick fingers slid into you, watching you writhe and gasp beneath him. "That's it, hermosa..."

The nickname only made you more aroused, gasping and panting as he crooked his fingers inside you. You couldn't believe you were aroused at all. He was stealing from you a moment ago, for God's sake. But you couldn't help it. He was handsome and so gentle with you, the opposite of what you had thought he would be. "Please, sir..." you moaned softly as that oh-so familiar pressure built up inside you.

"Mierda, you're easy, aren't you? I've barely even touched you," he admonished you, pumping his fingers faster.

He had you coming on him fingers in seconds, moaning loudly into the quiet of your room. "There you go, cariña..."

"Sir," you whined after you came down from your high. "Fuck me."

"Needy," he chuckled. "Thought you were afraid of me?" he asked as he slid down his pants, revealing everything the cloth was hiding, and wow, it was hiding a lot. There wasn't anything particularly remarkable about his dick, but it looked incredible, hard and leaking precum.

"I am." You really were. You just also happened to be incredibly turned on, and his cock standing at attention in front of you wasn't helping.

He hummed and notched his tip at your entrance, slowly pushing into you. "But you like it." He said it like it was a fact. And it was. You did like it.

You gasped at the intrusion, grasping at his shoulders as he slid into you. "Ohhh, fuck-" you moaned.

The man hissed above you, fisting his hands into the sheets. "Oh, mierda, that's good." He began thrusting into you, setting a slow pace that quickly gained speed as you got acquainted with the feeling of him inside of you.

"More," you whined, rolling your hips to meet his thrusts, pushing him deeper. "More, sir, please..."

He snaked one hand between your bodies, reaching to play with your clit. His fingers rubbing circles into the sensitive bud had you reeling, unable to focus on anything other than the pleasure rapidly building in you.

"You close?" he rasped, rubbing your clit faster as his thrusts grew erratic. "Want you to come with me, can ya do that, hermosa?"

You nodded, gasping as he speared you on his dick over and over again. "Mhmm."

A moment later he was spilling inside of you with a loud groan, and the feeling of him filling you up was what pushed you over the edge. You came hard, searing waves of pleasure running through your trembling body.

"Bruno..." you sighed as he collapsed on top of you. "Holy fuck."

"I know," he laughed breathlessly, pulling out of you and rolling onto his back.

You turned to him, resting an arm across his stomach. "Happy anniversary, Bruno."

"Happy anniversary, cariña."

#bruno madrigal #bruno madrigal x reader #encanto #bruno madrigal smut #encanto fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #smut fanfiction #encanto smut #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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noellemadrigal · 3 months

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Happy to announce the first chapter of La Rata y el Profeta is now up on AO3, and chapter 2 will follow shortly over the next few days! 😍💚 the next chapter will focus on Bruno’s life in the walls from his rats point of view, so I’m very excited to share this with you all!

Artwork as always by my wonderful friend NS artwork 🥹💚✨

#bruno madrigal #encanto #encanto oc #bruno madrigal x oc #encanto fanart #bruno madrigal x female oc #bruno madrigal fanart #encanto extended edition #encanto oc appreciation #bruno madrigal x female reader #brunomadrigalfanfic #brunomadrigal art #brunomadrigalxselfinsert #brunomadrigalrats #encanto fanfic

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provokedgoalie · 2 years

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18+. minors dni. 🔞

♡ perv!bruno madrigal x reader

♡ a/n: rewatched encanto with the family last night and thoughts were being thunk 😗👉🏽👈🏽 love me some voyeur bruno. (also, reader kinda knows he's watching them)

“Bruno,” you whimpered, as you rubbed yourself harder against your soiled pillow; your hips gyrated until the bed shook, knocking against the wall in rhythm.

The one where he was watching from.

He caught his wrecked sobs with his hand, while the other wraps around his leaking cock— the veins pulsing as he fists himself with vigor upon seeing you throw your head back.

“Oh, fuck. Please,” you pleaded, mouth agape as the grip on your pillow grew tighter.

Your unfocused eyes locked with the hole in the wall, almost as if you were aware of his voyeuristic ways.

He was throbbing in his slick covered palm, painfully aware that he'll come any minute. He never lasted long with you.

Bruno couldn't be sure what brought it on: maybe it was the thought of you putting on a show for him, or the way that you said his name, but he gritted his teeth as he pumped himself a final time.

With a groan, ropes of white coated his stomach and shaking hand. He brings it to his lips, tongue peeking out to kitten lick his fingers— his mind tricking himself into believing it was you cleaning him up.

When he glances up, you're on your back coming down from your high. Your heated cheeks and heaving chest made his cock twitch, signalling for another round.

He moves to tuck himself back into his pants, when he hears you giggle.

“Hope you enjoyed that, Brunito.”

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thatmerlinwizard13 · 2 years

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Under the Stars | Bruno Madrigal

18+, MINORS DNI!!

Summary: After a few months of dating, Bruno takes you to his secret hideout in Casita.

Pairing: Bruno Madrigal x Fem!Reader

Tags: Fluff, smut, asexual, licking, swearing, soft

Word Count: 1729

“I wanna show you something.”

Bruno gently took your hand and pulled you up the staircases in his room. All of them. After a few months of dating and having become a social outcast in town, you grew weird and a little more distant, sometimes going a full day without letting go of Bruno’s hand. And he was very sweet; squeezing your hand and making sure you were okay.

There were days where you would blankly stare at the walls and didn't eat a thing. You had a small breakdown in the bathtub once where Bruno found you, soaked and wrinkled from hours in the water. "y/n?" You hadn't answered him, simply took his hand and held it to your wet cheek. He'd climbed into the bathtub with you, cleaning your back and braiding your hair until you felt calm enough to get out again. You tried to feel Bruno near as much as possible. He was your anchor - he was your haven through this all.

You climbed the stairs and for the first time in your life, you saw the opening to Bruno’s cave. “Are we going in there?” you asked him but he shook his head. To the side, there was a small hole in the ceiling, the evening wind blowing through it. You followed Bruno as he grabbed some stones and hoisted himself up on the roof. “I am actually – kind of sorry, like I always wanted to eh, to show you this place. It’s where I went when things got a little bit too much for me.”

On the roof there were several pillows and matrasses, as the view was of a million stars in the sky. You mouthed a little ‘wow’ as you sat down. The whole floor was just a soft pillow to lie down in and gaze up to the sky. “What if it rains?” You ask as you take off your sandals and sit down cross-legged on the floor. Bruno sits down behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. “Casita always puts a little glass roof over it whenever Pepa has had a bad day. That way, it still feels like you’re outside in the rain without actually getting wet.”

You chuckled. “The stars are beautiful tonight.”

“They are,” he answered after which he pointed to the sky. You followed his finger with your eyes. “Those two,” he said, “the ones that don’t shine so bright.”

You did indeed see two little stars, side by side, that were very dim and sad compared to all the other brilliant crystals shining down on you. “That’s us,” he whispered. You laughed and let your back rest against his chest. “We are pretty pathetic compared to the rest of this family.” He pressed a kiss against your neck and you let the feeling tingle through your body. “Yeah,” he chuckled as he tickled you in your side, “we’re so sad.”

You laughed and tickled him back and for a moment; you were teenagers again – tickling and laughing and playing as you rolled over the roof, throwing one pillow after the next. One landed in his face and he pretended to get knocked out. When you rushed to him to check if he was okay, he grabbed you tight and flung you around. You felt carelessly happy again, maybe the first time in months. “My name is Hernando,” he said, pitching his voice lower than it actually was. You rolled over with laughter from this persona. He raised his arms all creepily as the hood concealed his face. “I am not afraid of you. I’m not afraid of anything!”

You put your face behind your shawl, looking like a mighty sorcerer, or something and laughed like an evil witch. “And my name is Nina, I’m a witch and I’m not afraid of the fearless Hernando!”

Then he attacked you, pushing you down to the ground as he pretended to eat you. You both laughed so hard, your stomach physically hurt. He had pinned you to the ground though. He had won the game. After you had laughed your laughs, Bruno also realized he had pinned you. You took his neck and pulled him nearer for a kiss. He wasn’t pulling away, instead, he let his body melt over yours, letting his fingers run through your hair as he kissed little kisses on your mouth and your eyes and your neck and – wow.

He eventually raised his arms and took off his poncho with a little struggle. You lay a hand on his leg. “What are you doing?” You asked as he also unbuttoned his shirt with fidgeting hands. He stopped with what he’s doing and looks at you questioningly. “I just – I thought that-”

“But are you sure?” You ask him. He’s expressed multiple times that he doesn’t need it. That he’s fine without all of that in our relationship. You feel your ears turning red. He nods softly. “I feel like – I don’t know. I want you to see me. Without boundaries or something.” He sniffed. “I’m just eh… I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to do.”

He strokes your face and you stroke his after which you climb out from under him and take the position he had over you. His giant eyes watch you intently as you take off your dress. You both feel it, the electricity in the stars and between you. You lean forward and kiss him like he kissed you, on his eyes, his mouth – you bit his ear slightly. You have no idea what you’re doing either, but after lots of fumbling and giggles, you unbuckle his belt and help him pull down his pants. “You’re so pretty,” you whisper, the words making him whine as he fixed his eyes on everything you were doing. You knew he loved those little compliments, had him eating right out of your palm.

“y/n,“ he almost whined, rutting up against you as your fingers trailed along the waist band of his underpants. His fingers ghosted over yours, a testing press that made you gasp. “So wet,“ he said mostly to himself. You helped him tug down the last scraps of clothing and took off yours as he sat upright, instantly kissing you again once you were near. You sat on his lap, letting your fingers curl through his hair as he nudged his leg up against your now bare cunt as you rocked against him.

“Bruno“ you said breathlessly, pulling away and holding his face in your hands “need you. Need you right now.“

That breathy whimper left his lips again and it seemed to urge him forward. He turned you over with far too much care but you’d expect nothing less from him, before hoisting you up on a square-like couch in the corner. You shivered slightly, the cool untouched fabric of the pillows a stark contrast to the warmth of his lap.

His lips were on you again, but only briefly.

“Can I taste you? “ he asked, eyes wide and practically pleading. You almost moaned just at the idea, nodding perhaps a little too enthusiastically at his request.

“Yes. Yes Bruno please…” He pressed another kiss to your lips before dropping onto his knees, never letting his hands leave you. He pulled you to the edge of the couch and carefully pushed your legs apart.

His eyes didn’t leave you once as he pressed soft, wet kisses to your thighs. You clenched around nothing just at the sight. This man would be the death of you. Your breath hitched in your throat as he drew closer, his own hot breath fanning over you and making you shiver again. His fingers carefully spread you apart, his nose brushing against your clit. Your head fell back with a soft whine.

“Bruno…“ he was still watching you intently as he licked a slow stripe between your folds, eliciting the most beautiful sounds from your mouth.

“So good,” he mumbled against you, confidence seemingly drowning him as he began to devour you as if you were his final meal. He’d never done this before, you’d never felt this before. But it was heavenly. You were now quite certain that to please you, he’d quite happily give you orgasm after orgasm without even bothering about himself. He’d go at it for hours, making you come over and over until you physically couldn’t take it anymore.

“Fuck- Bruno-” you gasped, hands sliding into his hair and tugging on his curls.

When he slowly slid a finger into you, you moaned so loud they probably heard you two floors down, even more so when a second quickly followed. You quickly slammed one hand against your own lips. His mouth was still preoccupied with your clit, and the mix of his tongue and his thick fingers curling up inside of you was too much. You could never get anything going with your own fingers, but his were magic. “Mi amore,” you whined. “So close.”

He curled his fingers again, hitting the perfect spot that was your undoing and barely a minute later you were coming. Hard. You clenched your thighs around his head, moans and sighs loudly falling from your throat. Bruno continued to lap at you gently, helping to ride you though it and make sure every single second lasted as long as possible.

“¿Estás bien?”

You gave a small laugh and nodded. You ran a hand over his hair and then nudged your fingers under his chin and scratchy beard, urging him to stand again. He stood up from the floor and pulled you along. He kissed you, making you moan into his mouth as you tasted yourself on his lips.

“Shower?“ He asked as you lay your forehead on his shoulder, his small figure perfect for the gesture. “Yeah,” you breathed, your body still tingling with sensation. This was perfect. He was perfect.

Bruno grabbed a big blanket from the floor and tried to lift you into his arms, failing miserably. “Come here,” you said as you offered him a place under the blanket with you. He put one arm over your shoulder and held the other side of the blanket with his free hand.

This way, you both tiptoed to the bathroom with a million whispered I love you’s on the way.

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My Masterlist

#bruno madrigal #bruno madrigal x reader #smut #soft #softsmut #bruno madrigal encanto #Encanto #encanto fanfic #encanto smut #bruno madrigal smut #disney #bruno x reader #encanto x reader #encanto bruno x reader

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daisies-daydreams · 2 months

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Bruno Madrigal x F!Reader Request: Sneak Peak

Hi everyone! Thank you all so much for being patient and supportive while I work on requests. I thought I'd share a sneak peak for a Bruno Madrigal x F!Reader request I'm currently working on for @duckiimo. I can't wait to publish it soon! -Daisy

WARNING: SUGGESTIVE CONTENT BELOW THE CUT

"Do you remember what happened the first time we came here, hermoso?" you lilted while opening your eyes. Your lover's breath hitched as he nearly choked on some fruit. You flipped yourself over and gently rubbed Bruno's chest as he cleared his throat.

"I-uh-I do," he flushed while picking at a blade of grass. You smiled and bit your lip, your breasts peeking out from beneath your lacy, white blouse as you sighed.

"We were both so nervous," you blushed as you slid your hand over his thigh. Bruno's breath hitched as you rested your chin between his ankles, your eyes locked on his crotch as he gulped. "But you did so, so well...made me the happiest girl in the whole Encanto that night," you purred while sliding both of your hands up his legs and beneath his green ruana. Bruno swallowed thickly as he fell back on his forearms, his legs spread out as you pounced on him like a lithe jaguar. His breath quickened as you hovered above him, your barely covered breasts grazing over his chest as you smirked.

"Would you like to relive that moment now?" you whispered as your lips brushed over his.

#encanto #encanto disney #encanto fanfic #bruno madrigal #bruno encanto #bruno madrigal x fem!reader #bruno madrigal x you #bruno madrigal x y/n #bruno madrigal fluff #bruno madrigal smut #encanto fluff

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sunshineofmoon · 1 year

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my random and lost ideas of Encanto fanfics:

(still no name defined) Bruno Madrigal x Fem! Reader

"What do you mean I'm not going to marry Alvaro, but with you, and we're going to have three children?!"

In which, with just a few days to go before your wedding to Alvaro Guzman, you decide to consult the well-known and controversial seer of the Madrigal family, Bruno.

However, the responses and perceptions you received were quite different from what you expected; with the man envisioning nothing more than her marriage, not to her current fiancé, but to Bruno himself.

— the plot is already pretty clear, but I'll add a few more things; takes place well before the events of the film, at the time when Bruno, Pepa and Juliet were teenagers (around eighteen/nineteen). And Reader's marriage to Alvaro Guzman (Mariano's uncle) has been arranged, she is unhappy about it but knows she can't do anything to stop it. Therefore, he decides to consult with Bruno Madrigal, even with his family's warnings about his predictions being, hm...Complex. We'll have a time skip and the rest of the fanfic takes place in the current times of the movie (1950's) and the rest... Maybe someday I'll write.

still no name defined (Camilo Madrigal x Fem!Depressed! Reader

Living in such a happy and colorful place as the village of Encanto, it was not at all expected that you would develop illnesses like depression and, shocking everyone, even try to take your own life; however, it had already happened, and being extremely worried about the direction the case could take and how it would affect the whole city, Alma Madrigal decides to send Camilo, her only grandson with the same age as you, to keep you company and even keep an eye on you and your behaviors. What, in the beginning, seemed totally unnecessary and even irritating, ended up being her salvation and drastically changing her life; and, suddenly, Camilo Madrigal's constant presence in her life didn't seem so bad anymore.

— the synopsis was horrible, but I don't care. It was a first draft just so you guys have an idea of how the fanfic will be. But she's the story I'm most fond of and most likely to write first, so treat my baby well.

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sp-ce-doll · 2 years

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"I'm not coming to dinner tonight."

Bruno Madrigal x Chubby!Fem!Reader

Request from @bloody-bunni666

MINORS DNI!!!! 18+ ONLY!!!!

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Sliiiiiiight breeding kink. Like if you squint lmao. This is very SFW though, nothing graphic.

A/N: This is literally the first fic I’ve ever posted on tumblr. Please be nice >.<

Bruno was sweating bullets, tugging at the collar of his brown shirt as he descended the steps from his tower. It was almost dinner time for the Madrigals, and he was about to announce his absence from the daily family event.

He had only recently rejoined his family after years of isolation, years of sitting in the walls of La Casita watching his sisters raise their children and his mother growing older. At last, he was finally welcomed back and as he entered the dining room, he saw a plate with his name on it already set in front of his seat.

Dolores was already seated, laughing as she watched Camilo shifting his physical form between himself and Alma for her amusement. Julieta and Mirabel were running frantically between the kitchen and the dining room, bringing with them a new plate or pan or bowl with the family’s dinner. Bruno giggled to himself, admiring how his niblings had grown, taking after his sisters’ respective quirky natures. It was going to be hard to excuse himself from dinner.

Alma walked in carrying Bruno’s favorite tamales, followed by his brothers-in-law. Now was as good a time as any.

“Mama,” Bruno said just above a whisper.

“Hm?’ she said, setting down her baking dish without looking up.

Bruno took a breath and let it out.

“I’m not coming to dinner tonight.”

The entire room stopped what they were doing and stared at Bruno wide-eyed. All except for Félix and Dolores, who smiled at each other with a knowing look.

“What?” Alma asked in complete shock.

“I’m not joining the family for dinner tonight. I, uh, I have plans – dinner plans – with someone,” he replied, punctuating his sentence with a nervous laugh.

Alma looked taken aback. She loved and missed her son dearly, despite years of refusing to say his name. She unsuccessfully tried to hide her disappointment while fiddling with the placement of her cutlery.

“I see,” she said, “and who will you be joining for dinner this evening?”

Bruno was flustered and struggled to answer. Félix, however, was happy to help.

“He’s going on a date with the thick mamí that lives next to the bakery.”

The room erupted into whistles and teasing bouts of “Oyeee!” while Bruno tried to hide his face in his ruana.

“Es el tomando mi pelo? I didn’t hear about that!” chimed Dolores. She’s lying, of course; she hears everything.

Alma was unamused. She sat down in her chair and magically whisked Bruno’s chair away from the table with a flick of her wrist. The teasing banter settled down and Bruno came out from his poncho.

“You will be missed, mi hijo,” she said.

“Sorry, mama,” Bruno said.

***

Bruno made his way to your house, so nervous that he forgot to ask Isabela to make a bouquet for you. He didn’t want to show up empty-handed, so he ran into the bakery and got some pandebono, hoping it meshed well with whatever you were cooking.

He finally arrived at your door and knocked three times, whispering to himself, “Knock, knock, knock on wood.”

You answered the door wearing a flour-dusted apron that you felt did not flatter your body. You stared wide-eyed at your crush who was smiling and nervously holding up a bag of bread.

“Bruno!” you blurted out. “I wasn’t expecting you – uh, how are you?” You took the bread from his hands.

Bruno frowned. Did you forget about their date?

He looked down to meet your eyes and mustered up the courage to speak.

“I’m good, yeah, yeah, I’m good. It’s just we had a da- I mean, you invited me to dinner. It’s seven o’clock, haha.” He wanted to curl up and die.

“Oh, Bruno,” you said with a small laugh, “dinner’s tomorrow. I’m preparing everything now.”

Bruno couldn’t possibly be redder. He didn’t know what to say.

Above, the clouds rapidly began to cover the sun and sky, a few drops beginning to fall.

“Oh, it’s raining! Hurry, come inside!” you said, pulling Bruno in by his free hand. He nearly tumbled over, but you were quick to catch his scrawny frame with your broader body. You helped him get to his feet, smiling ear to ear at his embarrassed face.

You turned to grab some water and a plate for him since he’d already made the trip over here.

He couldn’t help but admire how beautiful you looked, despite your messy hair and disheveled clothing. Your apron was tied tight around your plump figure and Bruno could see every roll and curve of your body. He knew he probably shouldn’t be undressing you with his eyes right in front of you, but you just looked so delectable and somehow, so motherly.

“She would be such a good mamí,” he thought, quickly shaking the notion from his head so you wouldn’t notice him lusting after you.

You turned around again to face Bruno and nudged your head to the side, signally him to follow you. You led him to your small dining area and placed down a plate of the bread he brought with a glass of water.

“I’m sorry I don’t have much for you now,” you said bashfully.

“No, no! My fault…I probably should’ve looked at a calendar, ha,” said Bruno.

“Well regardless, I’m glad for the company,” you said smiling. You walked back to the kitchen to continue getting ready for the large dinner you planned for the both of you. Lord knows that poor boy needs to eat.

“How is tu familia, Bruno?” you called from the kitchen.

In the seconds since you left him, he had stuffed two balls of bread in his mouth and was working on a third. He panicked for a moment trying to respond you, causing him to choke.

“Bruno?” you called out to him again. There was no answer.

You wiped your hands clean and rounded to corner to check on him and saw as he beat his chest with a closed fist. His face was beginning to turn blue, and his eyes could practically pop out of his head from how wide they were.

You ran to his side, unsure of how to help. You tried to give him a rough couple of pats on his back, but he continued to choke. He looked so scared, and you began to cry from the fear of losing him.

“What do I do, what do I do?” you tried to ask him.

Bruno grabbed at your hands, turned around, and drew your arms around his waist so that his back was flush against your torso. He tried to cross your hands over his stomach, and you quickly got the message. You began squeezing his tiny body in short spurts, eventually dislodging the bread from his throat.

Bruno fell to his hands and knees, coughing and struggling to breathe. You took the glass of water from the table and knelt next to him, offering the cup. He put a hand up, letting you know that he was okay, and pulled himself up on feet using the table for leverage.

He swayed and brought a hand up to touch his head.

“Ay, I’m dizzy,” he said.

You snaked your arm around his and led him to your bedroom to let him rest.

***

Around two hours later, when you had finished preparations for tomorrow’s meal, you took off your apron and went back to your room to check on Bruno. He was lying awake and had the hood of his ruana up, covering the majority of his face.

You gently rapped on your open bedroom door, leaning against the doorframe.

“Knock, knock,” you said.

Bruno pulled his hood further over his face and mumbled a soft, “I’m sorry,” into the fabric.

You walked into the room and joined him on the bed, awkwardly sliding your body behind him, and wrapping an arm around his waist.

“You know you have nothing to be sorry for, right? Accidents happen, amor,” you whispered to him.

“Bruno is stupid,” he said.

You huffed a small laugh and slid your fingers up and down his chest.

“Why is Bruno stupid, Hernando?” You played along with his little act. Bruno loved to bring out Hernando when he was ashamed.

“He ruins everything,” he responded.

“Bruno didn’t ruin anything. Like I said, accidents happen,” you said, sighing a little. “I was so worried about you.”

You could feel Bruno’s heart thumping hard from under his clothes. You knew Bruno liked you, but you were waiting until he was comfortable enough around you to make your move. You planned to confess your feelings to him at dinner.

“Did I ruin it?” Bruno asked all of sudden. You looked at him confused.

“Ruin what, Hernando?”

Bruno pulled off his hood and sighed.

“Did I ruin my chance with you?”

You could cry, he was so sweet.

“No, but you sure know how to keep a girl waiting, amor.”

Bruno shuffled around to face you without you having to move the arm that encircled his waist. He was trying to be brave for you.

“I think you’re beautiful, (y/n),” he said.

You couldn’t think of anything to do or say but kiss him. His lips were soft, warm, and plush against yours. You closed your eyes tight, enjoying the passion between you two, but you could tell Bruno’s eyes were wide open from the green light somehow penetrating your eyelids.

You pulled back, opening your eyes as the green light vanished from his.

“I think you’re beautiful too.”

#krissy stop #bruno madrigal x reader #bruno madrigal x chubby reader #encanto bruno #encanto #bruno x reader #encanto bruno x reader #encanto fanfic

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wyntr-thyms-2sh1ne · 6 months

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El Castillo de Encanto: Que Tú Eres Mi Destino

The Castle of the Enchantment: That You Are My Destiny

Each new gift given by the miraculous candle was meant to strengthen the community, strengthen the El Castillo de Encanto. To make the royal Madrigal family proud.

You work as a personal servant within the Royal Madrigal's family castle, but after the fall of the Castillo and rebirth of the miracle, your work plans change. Time to make the missing triplet feel at home once again.

The dictionary of my spanglish and bad timeline: - El Castillo de Encanto the casita in this version. - Reader is technically 22 years old. - I'm using a mix of a magical democratic monarchy and traditional Spanish, Colombian, and a dash of Downton Abbey

Chapter ambience: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mLWbKf4YcAA

Fifty years ago, a newly widowed mother received a miracle. Pushed out of her home after the birth of her three children by the violent conflict of the Colombian civil war, she and her husband were forced to flee in hopes of finding a new home. Even as many joined them, they could not escape the dangers of warfare. The wife watched as her newly fathered husband was lost to the violence of war. But, even in their darkest moment, Alma Madrigal was given a miracle.

The candle she held became a magical flame that could never go out, and glowed brightly in that dark night. It blessed Alma Madrigal with a refuge in which to live. The magic made towering green, protective mountains over her and her people. It was a place of wonder, an enchantment. The miracle grew, creating a castle for her and her family to live in, El Castillo de Encanto. Their house, the castle itself, came alive to shelter them.

When her children came of age, the miracle blessed them with magic too. Passing down to them a magical gift to match the magical candle Queen Alma Madrigal was bestowed. And when their children came of age, that magic was passed through each generation. Together, the royal family's gifts have made the Encanto, truly, a paradise.

Each new gift given by the miraculous candle was meant to strengthen the community, strengthen the El Castillo de Encanto. To make the royal Madrigal family proud.

Each gift given to the Madrigal’s was just as special as they were.

~~~

When you wake up you do so to the sound of a ringing bell, loud and clanging to purposefully alert the women and men around you. You jump up so fast being so startled and smack your forehead on the wooden panel of the bunk above you. With a small hiss and rubbing your forehead, you stumble out of bed, grabbing at the clothes under your bed frame. The woman above you does too. Everyone around is scrambling to get their royal garb on, whispering in excitement.

Today we move back into El Castillo de Encanto! The Castle!

You had to admit how relieved you were. It was so cramped in this temporary arrangement the servants of the Madrigal family found themselves in while the magic was still weak. This was usually where the nuns from the church would stay.

Truly, a humble celibate life they live… You think to yourself as you use a silvery, shiny ribbon to quickly tie your hair into a low ponytail.

Ten years ago, the village of Encanto fretted over the state of the magic blessing when Mirabel Madrigal did not receive a gift like the rest of her family. Not even 24 hours later, one of the royal magical triplets in the second generation known as “Bruno, la maldición del destino” by most of the town, disappeared.

You were only 12 when this all happened, working alongside your parents as an apprentice of servitude. When you were 13, you were working alone without your parents anymore. You weren’t sure why they passed away so young.

You loved your parents. The Columbian political unrest was too much, most nights they could see the smoke billowing from other towns around them being lit aflame. When your mother got pregnant with you they had a hard decision to make, stay with their friends and family and be in their home, or leave to ensure the safety of their future daughter- you. They thought and thought until your mother was incredibly far along in her pregnancy and the smoke got closer and closer, until they could see orange in the village nearby. The flames licked upwards, burning the homes of innocent families. So, with nothing but a bag with a blanket and a mysterious letter that didn’t have a return address with directions, they set out to find the mysterious Encanto.

You still had that letter. You had practically memorized what it had written on it. In shiny golden metallic font, it stated, “The Encanto, home for anyone looking for refuge or a miracle. Follow the butterflies. Climb the forested mountain. It is waiting for you.” They did. Somehow, they told you, they found it. It was almost like being lost and blinking and suddenly realizing where you’re going. They walked by the butterflies they saw. They took the nights in the cover of the jungle forests. They hiked up mountains.

They actually saw the castle, and almost as if it was meant to be, your mother went into labor. You remembered sitting there and listening to this story as a child with wonder coursing through your veins. The magical royal family was alerted to them as newcomers, and they took pity on your mother and father. You were born inside the castle, brought into the world by none other than her Majesty Juileta Madrigal. The Madrigals favored your parents' perseverance and love for you as their daughter. They were personally assigned to be paid and housed as servants of the Madrigal family.

Which, in the Encanto, was a very good job many of the villagers would be envious of.

Your mother became Juileta’s personal servant. Your father, Bruno’s. You would remember how your mom would come back to the servants quarters with a smile on her face and a treat for you. Your father… Typically would come back looking worried and flop on his bed for a minute before winding down and being his usual self.

When you were 5 that was when the apprenticeship started happening. Nothing really like backbreaking work, the servants usually never had to do that. You followed in your parents footsteps and worked to be a personal servant. The Madrigals had servants for everything. Teachers, babysitters, clothes, cooking, training- anything! A passion could easily be followed. Like your mother and father, from a young age you really liked order. You liked cleaning, putting things in place, choosing outfits and hairstyles or decorating rooms to be more cozy.

When Mirabel came of age for her gift, and the ceremony was a disaster as she didn’t even get a gift, your mother and father seemed both distraught. Then, Bruno disappeared. Your father suddenly and immediately declined. He wouldn’t get up for his servant job from his bunk. He only spoke to you and your mother. You couldn’t even think of how many times he whispered “you know I love you, right?” to you and your mother every night. You knew he blamed himself for Bruno disappearing, perhaps. Maybe he thought he should’ve done a better job? You didn’t know. You were too young to know.

Your mother passed first, however. You remember her waking up really early that day and whispering “I love you mi luna” to your dad, kissing his cheek before leaving. You don’t know exactly what happened. You think maybe a stroke. But your mother passed while working, and it was so quick Juileta couldn’t get to her in time to heal her.

When your father heard the news he was devastated. He held you that night. When you woke up to get breakfast you came back to him cold, and lifeless, still in his bunk. You knew he died of a broken heart.

You wished to have a love like your parents. A marriage like them. But ever since they passed you have focused on working and being the most reliable servant in the Castillo. Because of that, at the ripe young age of 13 you were assigned to La Riena Alma’s biggest mess.

Mirabel Madrigal.

Her Queen Alma Madrigal found the gift-less grandchild to be a pain, invisible, not as special as the rest of the magical family. When she saw how hard you worked even at your age and everything that had happened she grew content with making you the girls permanent personal servant.

You didn’t complain.

By then she was 7. And Mirabel was the kindest, funniest, little girl you had ever met. You practically raised her. You studied with her after her educational servant would let her out for the day, you bathed her and made sure her hair was shiny, you cleaned her glasses and taught her how to step on every stone in the Castillo without putting a foot on a crack.

It broke your heart to see how badly Mirabel wanted to help the family even without a magical blessing like her siblings and cousins. You would go into town with her sometimes and watch the villagers practically ignore her. You hated it. But you tried everything in your power to make sure that Mirabel was happy, gift or no gift. She was special to you. A soul sister.

When you turned 18, because of how well you handled Mirabel, her majesty Queen Madrigal named you head of servants. Honored, and feeling privileged, you worked even harder. But despite everything you did it felt like the family tension with Mirabel and the hush hush about “ese desgraciado Bruno diablo” grew more and more.

Until the magic completely failed.

When Isabela Madrigal had a very unsuccessful, chaotic proposal from the village favored Guzman family son, Riena Alma ordered you to take all the servants away to a temporary housing arrangement at the church. She made sure to scream about how the magic is strong and the candle will never burn out.

It did.

The Castillo literally crumbled to the ground. Turned into a pile of rubble with barely known remnants of what was once a glorious castle. Mirabel disappeared. Horrified you spent hours with the Madrigals searching for her in this devastated state. The magic was gone, the blessing was no more, and it would seem only a miracle could fix the internal damage within the familia Madrigal and the hope of the villagers.

Thankfully. She did come back. On horseback, with her Abuela Alma and a figure no one ever expected to return.

Bruno.

Reunited with her family, Mirabel single handedly encouraged the entire Encanto to hope in miracles again. A month of hard work from everyone made the Castillo be rebuilt in the same glory it was before. And when Mirabel added the final touch of a doorknob, the miracle became restored. The bright golden lights and sparkles and swirls of colors that made their way up through the stone of the Castillo and rooted themselves in the ground under the whole village's feet was a sight to only behold in a state of awed wonder.

It was a day of celebration. You took Mirabel’s hands and danced with her in celebration, cheering, saying “I knew you could do it! You are so much more special than you realize!!” The new miracle bestowed another blessing on the land, one that united everyone in communication and a desire to be better and let go of the biases of the past and make a better future.

You blinked rapidly from your thoughts when your bunk mate called for you over her shoulder, “Hey! Líder sin miedo, c’mon! You’re going to be late moving into your ‘elite servant’ room!”

You laugh and sprint towards her and outside of the cramped sleeping quarters, “As long as I get top bunk this time!!!

~~~

Your joke earlier was meant as a joke and when you got to the castle everything went even more smoothly. Luckily, you did not need a bunk mate. Upon uniting with their respective Madrigal family members, each servant was either on the giving or receiving end of a magical hug.

Mirabel threw herself at you and you at her, both of you embracing in a fit of giggles, dancing from side to side in the tight hug. When the girl pulls away she pushes her glasses up her face and smiles at you as if she was still the humble, giftless girl she was before and not the restoration of a miracle.

Her humbleness still made her excitedly help you get settled into your quarters. They were nice. You had a room alone to yourself, with a queen sized bed and your own personal bathroom, bookcase, desk, wardrobe, and drawers. Mirabel didn’t shut up the whole time she helped you get moved in, excitedly talking about the magic and then moving on to the most surprising topic to most of the other servants.

Her tío Bruno.

She excitedly explained to you how he was “weird, but not like, weird weird like more like just kinda nutty weird not like super evil weird.” Which honestly made you chuckle a little.

“So master Bruno is awkward?”

“Yeah!” Mirabel lit up, still talking like a madman, which you loved. You really did like it when someone was excited to talk about something. It was sweet how passionate they would get. And you loved Mirabel, and so each nod and hum you gave in reply to her rambling was entirely genuine.

She explained how short Bruno was. How he lived in the abandoned dungeon and the walls of the Castillo, with his only friends being the rats in there. She even explained his embarrassing habit of using them to make his own little personal plays so he would be entertained all cooped up in there.

You giggled, only drawing on what your father’s experience was with him. He explained Bruno was always well meaning but prone to being really unlucky himself. He always tried to convince you as a young girl that Bruno wasn’t as scary as everyone made him seem.

Standing at 5’3, being 50 years old, and looking so skinny for his age- yup. You believed him and Mirabel well over the village folk and Camilo’s shallow seven foot interpretation of his uncle.

Mirabel went on to explain how much he loved the Encanto, the Madrigal monarchy itself, and each and every one of the family members. How he aided her in seeing the future to help save the miracle. She made sure to put a lot of emphasis on how he seemed to be the only adult she had ever met (“aside from present company, of course,” she made sure to add, winking at you) who treated her with respect. Like he understood her wishes and desires and demands and even if he was scared he knew what was for the best despite the wishes of the f amily to remain “fine”. After her emotional banter about him she got more into his appearance.

By then you were following behind her with your back straight, clasped hands held at your belly button height, resuming the perfect personal servant posture as you did before the collapse. Your tied up hair billowed behind you as you kept a strong, certain stride. You wanted to make sure you kept working that hard and pouring everything you had into this job even if the family seemed more lax. You were the Head of Servitude, after all.

“He has this crazy slouch. You know, like the kind you see little gárgolas standing in. Oh! And he always rings his hands or waves them around- real expressive with them, ya know?” Mirabel walked, talking to you over her shoulder, “He is all gangly like he doesn’t know where to put his limbs sometimes. You know what I mean- like a growing adolescente. He seems to not understand where to place his feet.” Mirabel walked the memorized path to her room, not stopping a moment during all of this, “When the castle was rebuilt he immediately went to bed. He wasn’t awake this morning if you didn’t see- in fact I bet he’s still in bed, durmiendo todo el dia, jeez, what an old man. Well I guess it’s not that big of a deal, he doesn’t really like using his gift anyways.”

When she stopped in front of her door she turned to you, a smile still on her happy little face. You chuckled, and spoke, “What a glowing review for your regio uncle.”

“I know right!” Mirabel giggled and moved her hips and legs so her brightly colored skirt swung back and forth. You stepped up next to her with a soft smile, making her turn towards her bedroom door and reach for the handle, “Now it’s your turn to help me move in!” She gave you a sly smile, knowing you would love this detail, “I need a lot of help decorating.”

Your eyes lit up in happiness, your face not revealing it in its entirety but a small smile did form on your lips.

You grabbed the door knob with her, “What are we waiting for then?!”

Mirabel laughed.

The next week went on with the Madrigal family settling back into the Castillo with as much grace and understanding under the new miracle Mirabel had created. Unfortunately, because Mirabel was the creator of this miracle you found yourself not her personal servant as often anymore. It meant you had to resume the extra duties of head of servitude (which, admittedly, were not as fun as goofing around with Mirabel all day).

You usually wake her up most days. It meant a good morning routine and a great way to start off the day as she would sing while you fixed her hair and tended to her curls. Her eyes would scrunch behind her glasses as you scolded her for being such a “wiggly worm” and “oruga tonta”.

So often her Majesty the Queen Alma Madrigal would come into Mirabel’s room in the morning. You would have to take a step back as your mistress would run up to her abuela and kiss her cheek and ask her how she slept. It was clear that they had repaired their relationship and were eagerly growing it as the days went on.

“Might I borrow the room, miss?” Reina Alma had asked of you on the first morning back in the saddle.

You bowed, “Yes your su Majestad,” You kept your head down in proper etiquette with your hands placed together at your midsection, walking past the queen with kindness.

You were anxious. Mirabel was whisked away more and more by her grandmother, and while you were so excited for her you knew what it meant. Less time with you! What you saw as your little sister was finally growing up and it pained you a little. You didn’t know why. You practically felt like her second mom. You watched her grow from lost in the world to understanding her place.

Perhaps you wished to continue to have that life guidance for her. It gave you a lot of meaning.

When Mirabel was advising her grandmother, you busied yourself with the other tasks demanded of your head of servitude job. That included but was not limited to meal preparations, cleaning, making beds, washing laundry, explaining to Camilo that he has to understand that he cannot go into the female servants quarters even if he was “technically a female servant right now”, and finding meaningless ways to make even more spaces within the Castillo aesthetically appealing.

There were a few times in that week you would reorganize a room just for the heck of it to give you some purpose, and Castillo’s tiles and walls would shift, rattling and making a satisfying domino effect, pushing the furniture back into its proper places. This was often accompanied by a sigh, because you knew Castillo could tell you weren’t doing it for your job, but rather, for your own fulfillment.

It was getting boring. You loved your job, but it seemed without purpose. Mirabel was growing up and doing what she was born to do- be the real miracle.

You found yourself often going back to Julieta or Agustin during this time to assist them- Agustin because he was always clumsy and needed help with something, Julieta because you could never shake the feeling that she felt like “mom”. About halfway through the week, an interesting conversation happened in the kitchen.

“Agustin appreciates the attention you’ve been giving him despite the fact he already has three personal servants to keep him out of trouble,” Julieta smiled at you, her down turned brown eyes warm as you mixed dough, her hands busy kneading it.

A lot of servants helped her cook, and they all bustled around with ingredients and bowls and utensils of all kinds. The smell in the kitchen was amazing, absolutely estupendo.

“Of course la dama, anything to help the amazing Madrigals,” You replied, smiling at her work. What a unique gift. All she needed to do was lay her hands on the food at some point or another in the process and have it possess that healing power.

“You might need to get used to it,” Daniela, a kitchen maid, skidded past, only a few years older than you. She put a bowl into the oven, using the fireplace poker to make sure the heat stayed consistent on the food, “I’ve heard Mirabel and her Majesty Reina Alma are getting close. Almost like she is her heiress.”

You paused, shooting her a glance as Julieta chuckled and shook her head a little, “Mamá still has some kick in her and Mirabel is still only a child, una adolescente, she’s just 15. That won’t be happening soon.” She looked down, and you noticed despite her words she had a giant, proud, motherly smile on her face for her daughter. Always in her corner, just like you.

“Still,” María, the second kitchen maid and Julieta’s own personal servant, butted in, “Soon to become a royal advisor I’m sure of it.” The older woman set a cutting board down and began to carefully chop up some fresh cilantro, “Perhaps even her own personal asesora real, considering all the advice she's giving Her Reina already,” María sounded more logical, as if stating the simple facts. She glanced up to look between you and Julieta.

“Probably due to be on the royal court this week alone,” Daniela chirped, ever the dramatic gossiper.

“I’d hope,” You burst, finally speaking up. You beat the liquids and powder in the bowl in front of you with much unbridled vigor that it became mixed as one within seconds, touching the rim and coating one of your thumbs with the batter, “After all these years pushing her to the wayside they finally recognize her talent- oh no! No longer a pequeña oruga, eating up resources and an unpleasant sight. But no, now she's a una hermosa mariposa, glowing with a new miracle… As if she wasn’t already and wasn’t that always!”

The kitchen completely stills. Both maids and her majesty Juileta all stare at you and the paused image of your aggressively beaten batter and downcast gaze.

You take your hands off the bowl, lower your head so your scalp is visible to the royal Madrigal in the room, bowing with your hands clutched at your midsection, “I beg your pardon mi señora, I don’t know what got into me.”

Julieta gives you a small, sympathetic look. She nodded to her two other maids, and both resumed their duties as if not being bothered at all. She turned to you, putting a gentle, caring hand on your tense shoulder, “My dear, levanta la cabeza,” she put a hand under your chin and tilted it up to meet her eyes, “Let’s have a moment, shall we? To the pantry, let’s go.”

Julieta led you with a hand on your back in the most mothering way you could imagine, whispering, “Danos un momento, ladies,” to her maids as she took you into the pantry closet, closing the door behind her.

The smell of spices, fresh herbs, and dried meats and proteins hit your nose the moment you were inside. You turned to her majesty, scrambling, “I’m so sorry. I feel she is slipping away from me-”

“Shh! Shh…” Julieta gently calmed you, rubbing soothing circles on your back, “Honey, I would know how you’re feeling. I’m her mother. Mirabel deserves this, yes, but it feels so whip-lashed for sure.. One moment she comes crying to your side and now she is the heart of the Encanto, what keeps the magic breathing and alive..” she gazed proudly at nothing in particular, before blinking rapidly and looking back at you. “But I know you, and I know this is more than that.”

You sigh softly, “I just… if she moves on, gets all this power and fulfillment… mine will go. What will I do as my job? Will I ever be happy in my job again?” You shrug then turn your head to the side, not meeting Juileta’s gaze, “Would I have to resign as head of servitude? Leave my job?”

“Gracious mija! Calm down…” Julieta frantically grabbed one of your hands, making your head turn back to her.

She gave a worried look, lips pursed and one corner pushed up. Her warm chocolate colored eyes gazed at you for a moment, making sure you were calm and adding extra comfort by being warm and assuring, before she continued to speak, “We all love you here in the Castillo.” She squeezed your hand softly, “If you were to leave I’m sure the other servants and half of the Madrigal’s ourselves would riot-“

This caused you to laugh a little, making Julieta’s smile grow a little bigger. She went on, “You were destined for this, I held you in my hands as an adorable bebita right here in the walls of the El Castillo de Encanto, and you love it! Why leave?”

“Because I don’t know what’s going to happen and I feel out of control,” you breathed, rushing it out as you gazed at Julieta genuinely. Your brows were furrowed so tight in fear of the admittance and the vulnerability you were in at that moment. You knew your forehead wrinkles probably look ridiculous looking back on it.

Julieta stared at you a moment, her eyes almost looking confused before they lit with a spark of understanding, “Ah…” She brought you in for a hug, “Oh mija… do not carry that on your shoulders… you were a little girl… there was no way you could control anything…”

You knew she was talking about your mom and dad.

“You think… that’s where this started?”

“Yes bebita,” she pulled away from the hug with a small smile, “It was how your mother and father coped too. When they were stressed they ran to control.. rules and order. Sí, I think that’s it for you. You like to feel in control because you felt so out of control when that happened. I’m letting you know right now you can relax, honey. The Madrigal’s and Mí Sobregoneta Familia will always take care of you. Come, come, let’s finish cooking dinner-“

You nodded, trying to lean into her words. It made sense in your head but your stomach felt uneasy still. However, logically you knew her majesty was right. Julieta could read you as if you were one of her own daughters.

By the time dinner had been served your rapidly beating heart had quieted and your mind was at a little bit more ease.

However, your boredom and lack of personal servitude would soon come to a screeching halt.

“I now announce you as his majesty Bruno Madrigal’s personal servant.”

Queen Alma Madrigal was smiling with her chin up, crown glistening, and back straight with each of her hands placed together in front of her.

You looked similar. A perfect straight back with knees slightly bent in a bow and knuckles white from gripping your hands together at your middle. However, you didn’t have a smile. You knew your eyes were big and face drained of color.

That morning started out how it usually did. How it always did. Waking Mirabel up and singing with her as you gently put oils into her curly hair. You decided to brush it back and keep the top of her hair in a cute little ponytail. The sun was warm, and her giggles were sweet, and she had no malicious intentions in her eyes behind those green glasses while she excitedly exclaimed she had a surprise for you.

When Reina Alma entered the room you bowed as you usually did, not a wrinkle in your skirt nor a stutter in your posture. However, it was when they both opened their mouths and had you rise from your bow that things got very very off schedule.

More so, completely flipped around.

And now her majesty Queen Alma Madrigal has assigned you a whole new job after the one you had exclusively been in since you were a teenager.

“Oh geez please don’t look like that!” Mirabel walked over to you and grabbed your upper arms, making you look at her. She gave her usual dorky smile, “This is literally perfect for you!”

“Mí mijo,” Alma stepped forwards, whispering as she took a more casual stance with you- something so surprising since the Queen really, really cared about her royalty and the whole strict regime that went with it, “He’s… Struggling. He is always late to family dinner. He’s not getting up on time. He’s too nervous to use his gift and to go out into town. We have tried what we can to convince him, and he…” she stopped, swallowing, looking at her granddaughter.

The bright butterfly continued for her royal family member, “He refuses a personal servant. I think he’s just shy. Maybe embarrassed. And probably really scared.” She smiled at you softly, pushing up her glasses and continuing, “He really needs some order and routine right now.”

Okay, now she was clearly trying to cater to you.

Queen Alma stepped forward and stooped down a little to your eye level so you could see her scalp, placing her royal, magical hand on your shoulder and it made you feel so humbled. However, she herself humbled instead, looking into your eyes and meekly begging, “You did such a wonderful job making sure Mirabel grew up, despite my best efforts, knowing she was good enough and could be happy.” You relished a little bit in how the Queen openly admitted her faults when it came to Mirabel, and you relished even more in the small, soft, warm smile the two shared after her words. “You are so talented and wonderful at what you do. You clearly care for the El Castillo de Encanto, the magic itself, and our family. Extend your helping hand to me, once again, but allow me to ask for the betterment this time,” Alma moved to stand up straight, putting her hand under your chin with her fingers curled in so only the knuckle of her pointer finger gently nudged your chin upwards too, “Mí Brunito needs you. I believe your magic touch-“ her lips curled in a small smile making you smile too- “will break him out of his shell and let him relax in his new life. I want more than anything to let my son know he is valued by the Encanto, by our blessing, by our family, and more so, to be proud of himself the way I am now so much more proud of him.”

You let out a sigh exclusively from your nose, shutting your eyes for a moment.

Everything made sense. You had to let go of Mirabel. She is grown up now. You were being put in a position where you were needed most.

You thought of your dad. How he used to take care of Bruno. How he implored people to be kinder, how he saw his master and friends true nature and how it deeply distressed him when nobody would see it too.

You thought of what happened when Bruno disappeared.

You opened your eyes. You wanted to fulfill the legacy set before you by two people just as loving and passionate as you were.

You have a small nod, looking between both of the Madrigals, “I would be honored to take his majesty Bruno Madrigal as my master.”

Both of them smiled. Soon, there were four arms wrapped around you in a hug.

In the distance you heard the faint noise of sand in the wind.

Fair warning, future chapters will have smut. 18+ I will tag it when it's appropriate Correct me on any spellings, bad grammar, and ESPECIALLY on poor translation. Thoughts? Feelings? If you have none: what kind of royal would *you* be?

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butterfly-lies-chase-them-away · 2 years

Note

for the don’t stand so close to me series: the reader and bruno haven’t had the chance to do anything for a couple of weeks, and after seeing bruno with his hair tied back and shirt undone one button more than usual, she snaps and drags bruno into a supply closet and gives bruno a blowjob (maybe a sprinkle of dom!reader if you’re comfy with it)

Don’t Stand So Close To Me (18+) (Part 12)

Teacher!Bruno Madrigal x Student!Fem!Reader

Modern Day!Imagine

Non-Magic AU

Summary: Reader giving Bruno head, lol, just the request

Warnings: Swearing, Agegap, inappropriate thoughts, teacher/student (STUDENT IS OF AGE)

Word Count: 983

Italics will mostly be his direct thoughts, his imagination

Author Note: Hello everyone, I've been away for so long and I do apologise for that. I've just been super stressed out this year with just life and everything that comes with it so I've been very absent from Tumblr and writing so I'm sorry for that but I will try to write more, probably not as frequently but here and there when I can, thank you for everyone for checking in on me and being patient, I really appreciate it :))

Don't Stand So Close To Me (Masterlist) (Part 11) >(Part 12)< (Part 13)

(I do not own this gif)

Bruno POV

Today was a rather hot day. The sun was beaming through the windows, heating up the entire room. There were no air conditioners in my class so I tried opening windows and doors to create ventilation. It was bearable but not preferable. My last class of the day was just before lunch and had my darling lover in it. I smiled at her as she walked in and made her way to her seat closer to the back.

30 minutes in, the class began to heat up again, more than I could handle. I pushed my chair out a bit to get better access to my draw on the side of my table. I open the top drawer and pull out a hair tie I knew I had when Y/N last left one here. Pulling back the majority of my hair, I tied it up in a small ponytail to keep it out of the way of my face. Unbuttoning the cuffs of my sleeves, I folded them up, exposing my forearms to the air.

After another 10 minutes, not even that was enough. I looked up from my desk to see everyone hard at work. Well, almost everyone. She, as usual, was staring at me, lost in thought. I chuckled to myself.

No wonder you always need help catching up.

I looked back down at the work in front of me and unbuttoned the first two of my shirt buttons, enough not to be classified as inappropriate.

I couldn’t help but think about the last time I spent time with my darling Amor.

At least a couple of weeks since we had some quality time together.

I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about the sounds she made when I eat her out. Every little twitch her body made at the small touches I gave her. The moments when she’d wrap her legs around my head as she would orgasm and release sweet sweet juices into my mouth.

Fuck.

I didn’t even have to look down to know how hard I was at that moment.

In class too.

It was as if someone from the heavens above heard my woes because people had already started packing up for the end of class.

Well, time to go home and sort out my problem.

As I was halfway down the hall to leave, my name was called out.

“Mr. Madrigal!”

“Y/N?”

She was jogging down the hall to me.

“Could you come with me, quickly?” she asked, slightly out of breath.

“Of course.”

We didn’t go that far before she pushed me through a door, into a supply closet filled with things like stationary and books.

I had no time to think about what was going on before her lips were on mine. Obviously enjoying the situation, I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her against my body.

“What are you doing, don’t you have another class?” I asked as she made her way down to kiss my throat.

“Not for another hour.”

She wasted no time ripping open my shirt, pressing hot kisses to my chest and down.

“You looked so good in class today, I can’t stop myself,” she said, breathlessly, unbuttoning my pants.

“Your hair, your arms, your chest,” she released my cock from my underwear, “you are so perfect.”

She licked the tip slowly, coating it in her salvia and the view alone made me almost collapse if it wasn’t for the shelf behind me for support. She moved her hand slowly along the side of my shaft, swirling her tongue around the red head of my cock.

“Fuck!” I dropped my head back, closing my eyes.

I felt it as she slowly pushed the rest of my cock into her mouth, coating the entire thing in her saliva. I grabbed the back of her head, not necessarily pushing it further in, just giving me something to hold onto.

She finally released herself from my cock, pumping her hands up and down my dick while looking up at me, proud.

“Does it feel good, sir?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“It feels amazing,” I whimpered.

A smirk rose up her face and she proceeded to put my cock back in her mouth. I had trouble keeping my eye open, so I let them fall close and rested my head against the wall behind me.

I don’t know how much longer I can last.

She had obviously known I was close too because of the way I tensed up under her. I could feel the cockiness radiating off her as she bobbed her head faster. I had to bite down on my hand just so I wouldn’t scream out.

“F-fuck,” I groaned into my hand.

I couldn’t hold back any longer. I spilt my hot cum down her throat, trying not to collapse from my weak legs. She stroked her tongue along my cock a couple more times before pulling it out. I hadn’t even noticed she had swallowed it. As she stood up, I pulled her in by the back of her head, giving her a passionate kiss. I felt her smile as she reciprocated the kiss.

She pulled back, “well! Better get to my next class!”

She grabbed her bag off the ground, hoisting it onto her back.

“Wait- what? B-but what about you? I can’t just leave you without!” I said pushing myself off the wall.

She turned to smile back at me.

“You don’t need to worry about me, sir. I better get to class though, bye!” she waved before leaving the closet.

“Wai-” the door shut.

Damn.

Knowing I had no other classes for the rest of the day, I just slouched against the wall, sliding to sit on the floor. Still quite tired and out of breath, I closed my eyes and sat there for a while. That girl is a wonder.

Author Note: Thank you so much for reading, again sorry for the absence, I hope you enjoyed it. If you'd like to join the taglist, feel free to just leave a comment. :)

Taglist: elfwoodfae diannaey rennaisancebaby fapqueen scarletambitions nik-barinova little-spooky-ghost-girl dylansoldhair r0ck3n1buk11 hoeboat101 nervoussubjectappreciator kuilty biafbunny sad0ni0n alinafaustina elitalover jessicarosequinzelfleck alianacali

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cheesy-cryptid · 2 years

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Had permission from @artsynellyyy to sprinkle some 👁 hints 👁 after i told her im making LMFE fan art again hehe

GO READ “LOVE ME FOR ETERNITY” ON AO3 NYEOWWW AND SUPPORT MY BESTIE 💖😤💖😤 She deserves all the hugs and kisses in the world istg

#encanto #encanto oc #bruno madrigal x reader #bruno madrigal x oc #bruno madrigal #bruno x oc #encanto original character #artists on tumblr #nik's art #encanto fanart #bruno madrigal family #bruno my beloved #oc #original characters #oc evalina #digital art #digital illustration #digital painting #fanfic fanart

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foggyfanfic · 1 year

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Love and Fury Master List

Fic Summary: When the goat herders daughter drops a plate of food in Pepa's lap then immediately asks Pepa's crush to dance, Bruno becomes determined to secure a sincere apology for his wronged sister. On the other hand, Leandra deeply regrets throwing food at Pepa, but when she saw the guy who raped her best friend putting something extra in Pepa's drink she panicked! It was the first thing she could think of to get Pepa out of there. She'll explain the situation to Bruno, she will, but right now he's the only thing keeping her safe from that creep. Pre-Movie AU, Some Darker Themes, No "on-screen" rape

Now on Ao3!

Word Count: 165k (not the chapter list, the fic)

Part 1:

1. Panic! At the Quinceanera

2. Bad Luck Bruno

3. A Careful Dance

4. Book Club

5. Silly Games

6. A Change of Scenery

7. A Gift Exchange

8. Sandcastles

9. Bad News

10. Battle Lines

11. Recasting

12. Uncomfortable Conversations

13. Planning and Fretting

14. Round One

15. Matter of Perspective

Part 2:

16. Round Two

17. Letting Off Steam

18. Round Three

19. Detective Bruno

20. The Gauntlet

21. Tease

22. Listening Ears

23. Poetry in Motion

24. Do or Die

25. The Morning After

Part 3:

26. Call to Action

27. Almost There

28. Can't Spell Party Without Trap

29. Fall Out Niño

30. Trials and...

31. Malidicion

32. The Queen and The Big Bad Wolf (just smut)

33. Tribulations

34. Happy Endings to Come (also pure smut Not anymore oops)

35. Rosalie's Revenge

36. Epilogue: Pepa's Party

Mirabel's Super Secret Adventure

The Jorge Situation

(Still Writing)

One Shots

Poorly Hidden Gems

Of Men and Yelling

Of Mothers and Mysteries

The Labrynth

#Love and Fury #Bruno Madrigal #bruno madrigal x oc #bruno madrigal x female oc #fanfic #and try to keep it updated #the chapters are scheduled and I don't always remember they're going out that day #so it'll probably have a bit of a delay #that said hopefully it'll make it easier for new readers to catch up #I keep having ideas for the characters #Somebody stop me DX

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capypub · 2 years

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hi! could you do prompt 10 “call me selfish” with bruno :) could be with smut up to you !!

#10 “Call me selfish, but I don’t ever want anyone else to touch you.”

Rating: M (contains mature content, readers agree they are 18+ by continuing to read)

Bruno Madrigal was not a materialistic man. He needed very few things to be content and comfortable in his space. Perhaps it was from years of living in a confined hole in the wall or perhaps it was the deeply-ingrained mindset of putting everyone’s needs before his own for the sake of the Encanto, because he was gifted, because he was a Madrigal.

The few valuable possessions he did have, he cherished for one reason or another. Everyone knew this about the prophet, especially when it came to his beloved wife. She was his most prized possession in a way, a testimony to the saying that “good things come to those who wait,” in the form of his happiness when he’s with her. Bruno was not one to consider his wife as an object which literally belonged to him, but rather a source of strength that balances parts of him in a way that he hopes he helps balance parts of her. For example, no one knew that under the mild-mannered, unassuming, socially awkward exterior of Bruno thrummed a passion and intensity that others would find shocking. Bruno was shocked when it first came forward shortly after meeting his wife. Her presence alone brought out a fierce desire to protect and care for as well as a fiery passion that required frequent affection given and received.

“Bruno, stop it,” she laughs, pushing his hands off her waist.

He snickers, ignoring her weak attempts at keeping his hands off of her. Gripping her hips, he lightly pulled her back until she leaned into his chest. Ducking his head, his mouth lingered along her neck, ghosting kisses along her skin. His second-day stubble scratched against her skin in a way that he knew excited her.

“Bruno,” she attempts to warn again, but this time it comes out almost like a sigh as she leans more into him.

“Mi conejita, so pretty, so sweet,” he murmured into the crook of her shoulder, his hands sliding forward across her abdomen until his arms locked around her torso, keeping her firmly pressed into him, groaning as he nuzzled the side of her head.

“Bruno, really,” she giggles, recognizing his tone, “we’re about to leave, mi amor,” she adds softly, laying her hand over his.

“I can’t help it, you’re addicting, I always want you,” he practically whines into her ear, his hands inching up towards her chest.

“Later, amor, you’re mother will have both our heads if we’re late,” she insists, turning in his arms to face him, “plus I’m not going to be the one to explain to Mirabel why her uncle was late either,” she adds, leaning up to peck his lips.

She steps back as he huffs with a pout and an eye roll, unable to admit he would never forgive himself for missing a part of his favorite niece’s sixteenth birthday. They’d been working together for weeks to prepare him for the amount of people about to be drinking and dancing around him. Since his “return” he’s gotten better about socializing and interacting with people but crowds were still a challenge, especially rowdy ones.

With another huff, he followed his wife downstairs. Most of the family has already gathered, greeting the early arrivals. Mirabel would be coming down any minute. Bruno went to make sure the camera was set up for the inevitable picture his mother would want of the family.

“Something to calm your nerves?” she offered, coming up to him after collecting two glasses of wine.

“I don’t think drinking is going to help my nerves, amor,” he scoffs lightheartedly, but still accepts the glass.

They mingle, well she mostly mingles and Bruno does his best to at least attempt to provide input to the various conversations they engaged in before the actual party began. Some groups he was more comfortable in than others and it showed by how much he spoke.

As the evening progressed, the entire house, literally, was in awe of Mirabel, who looked stunning in her handmade dress, her hair done up with flowers complimentary of her sister and the lightest touch of make-up on her eyes and lips. Bruno felt a pang in his chest, remembering the little child who would toddle after him around the house while he tried to keep up with her sisters’ endless energy. Now a beautiful young woman stood before him, a bright and ambitious woman who would continue to do amazing things.

“Dance with me?” his esposa asked softly later into the evening, when most of the food had been eaten and the band had gathered a crowd of dancers.

“You tempt me too easily, conejita,” he chuckles, but leads her towards the dancing mass of people.

They stay towards the back edge of the crowd, moving fluidly together. Bruno was not as theatrical as his sister or as poised as his other sister, but he carried himself well. He held her close, keeping his head low to whisper his desires against the shell of her ear, sporadically nipping at her earlobe or kissing her neck. Having the creativity of an artist meant Bruno spun pros of passion so easily when directed towards his lover. She still swoons and blushes when he weaves naughty desires with intense declarations of love.

“I need you under me, amor, writhing in pleasure while I worship your body,” he growls, feeling how she tenses in his arms, shuddering afterwards.

“Bruno, stop it,” she now whines at him, her tinted a faint pink, only growing more intense as he continued to whisper into her ear while the party carried on, oblivious to the storm of sexual tension building between the quiet couple.

“Perdóneme,” a voice interrupted them, cutting Bruno off mid-sentence.

They stopped swaying, turning to see a man, perhaps in his early thirties, standing in front of them. He offers his hand to his wife, nodding to Bruno briefly. She hesitates, obviously confused by this man.

“May I steal the lady for a dance, señor Madrigal?” he asks, his warm smile showing off a row of sparkling teeth.

“Oh,” she chirps, obviously surprised as she smiles politely, but remains still.

“My wife,” Bruno emphasizes, moving his body so that she stood partially behind him, blocking half of her body from the man’s view, “is actually not feeling very well, I was just about to take her upstairs to rest,” he says, his tone cool and collected, but she knew him well enough to notice the tension in his shoulders and the slight grit in his jaw.

“Ah, of course, my apologies,” the man nods, deflating at the refusal, “I wish you a fast recovery, señora,” he adds respectfully before walking away from them.

He feels her looking at him before he sees it, already prepared for the slight scowl and questioning arched brow. Pulling him aside, they found a quiet hallway free of other guests where they could talk. She crossed her arms over her chest, smirking. He felt a small bit of relief knowing she wasn’t mad at him.

“What was that about?” she finally asks after waiting for him to explain himself.

He shrugs begrudgingly, dropping his gaze to the floor. “I just didn’t like the look of him,” he muttered, his hands slipping into his pockets as he slouched a bit into himself.

“Bruno, he was nothing but respectful, what actually bothered you?” she asks with a chuckle, tugging him by his shirt sleeve closer.

They were both silent as she took a step back, pressing her shoulder blades into the wall and pulling him forward until his chest brushed the lace accents on her dress. She stared at him with wide eyes, a mischievous and almost cocky smirk contrasting the innocent gaze. Lifting his arms, he planted both palms flat on the wall on either side of her head, enclosing her space further.

“You’ve never gotten jealous before,” she commented, toying with the top button on his shirt, undoing it and the one right below until a small patch of his dark chest hair poked past the fabric.

“Call me selfish, but I don’t ever want anyone else to touch you,” he growled, his gaze sharp and glowing faintly as he leaned in and traced a line with his tongue from her pulse to her earlobe, chuckling darkly when she exhales a shuttered breathe.

“Bruno, don’t say such things, I can’t control myself when you talk like that,” she cooed before biting her lip seductively, batting her lashes and pushing her chest up and into his to emphasize her breasts.

“Mi dulce conejita,” he sighs, brushing his nose along her temple, closing his eyes and dragging his hands down from her shoulders to her waist, nimbly gathering the fabric at her hip and slipping his hand underneath, caressing the soft, warm skin of her thigh.

“You’re going to get us in trouble,” she teases, but continues to lean into his teasing caress.

“Maybe you’re worth it,” he replied against her neck, biting more frequently now.

“Ah,” she gasps when the hand that had been squeezing and rubbing her thigh slipped past the hem of her underwear, his long and nimble fingers rubbing at her clit.

“Oh, you’re enjoying this,” he chuckled darkly, feeling her practically dripping, “does the risk turn you on, conejita, hm? The chance of getting caught so exposed with your husband’s hand under your skirt getting you excited? Que traviesa,” he smirked, adding more pressure to her clit as she whined into his shoulder.

“Bruno, please,” she chokes out, her nails digging into his forearm as she grinds into his palm.

“What is it, mi vida? Do you want to cum like this, on my hand? Let everyone in this house know you’re only mine to touch?” he thought aloud, doubling his efforts as her breath became more ragged.

“I need…inside, ah, Bruno, please, please,” she gasps, eyes squeezed shut as she lightly ruts against his hand.

“You want my fingers inside?” he asks, already knowing the answer, just wanting to see her get more worked up for him.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she’s practically sobbing as the intensity of her release grew and grew, “I need you, please Bruno, mi amor,” she whines.

“Such a good girl, asking so sweetly,” he said with a smirk, slipping his middle finger into her pulsing heat.

“Oh, f-fuck…yes, yes, yes,” she begins to pant, her movements becoming more frantic as he slips in his index finger and begins stroking her walls, brushing that spot deep inside her that would bring her release.

“Let go, amor, mierda, I could finish just by watching you come undone like this,” he groaned, rutting his crotch against her thigh as she trembled against him, eyes shut tight as her mouth opened partially in a silent gasp.

Bruno kissed her passionately when he recognized the telltale signs of her approaching end. She cried out against his mouth, her whole body jerking and shuddering as she came around his fingers, her legs wobbling slightly until he used his free hand to help support her.

“Such a good girl,” he praises her, slowly removing his fingers from her heat, admiring the shiny slick coating his hand.

“Only for you,” she purrs, bringing his hand to her mouth and sucking his fingers clean, slowly and seductively, her eyes never leaving his as she cleans his fingers thoroughly.

“I married quite the temptress,” he groaned, pressing his aching length into her leg.

“I’m sure they wouldn’t miss us if we got some air for a bit,” she suggested, toying with his belt buckle.

“Definitely not,” he eagerly agreed, grabbing her hand and quickly leading her upstairs before anyone could notice.

Thankfully the band drowned out most of the noise in the house, the lull of the partygoers drowning out the passionate noises of a couple lost in the throes of desire, frantic and primal, their few minutes of air quickly turning into hours of wanton pleasure as the night turned to morning.

#bruno madrigal #bruno madrigal imagine #bruno madrigal fanfic #bruno madrigal fluff #bruno madrigal smut #bruno x reader #bruno madrigal x reader #bruno madrigal x female reader #bruno madrigal x of #bruno madrigal x ofc #encanto imagine #encanto smut #encanto fluff

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noellemadrigal · 2 months

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If you’re lost you can look and you will find me, time after time ✨💚

#bruno madrigal #encanto #encanto oc #bruno madrigal x oc #encanto fanart #bruno madrigal x female oc #bruno madrigal fanart #encanto extended edition #encanto oc appreciation #bruno madrigal x female reader #brunomadrigalxselfinsert #encanto bruno #bruno madrigal fanfic #bruno x oc #bruno encanto #bruno madrigal x reader #brunomadrigalrats #brunomadrigal art

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chibipeachu · 8 months

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When are going to update the saving a miracle

..after a year or two of not posting an update, I've posted the final part on my wp so if you wish to read the rest of the ending its there!! I hope you all enjoyed reading the story as much as I enjoyed writing it!!

#bruno madrigal x reader #bruno madrigal x female reader #encanto fanfic #bruno encanto x reader #bruno madrigal x y/n

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estoniacobaltpayne · 2 years

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The Mystery of Your Loneliness

Pairing: Bruno Madrigal X GN! Reader

Warning: Angst, Cursing, Mentions of Heavy Drinking and Alcohol

A/N: So this is a semi sequel to Goodnight Sweet Prince, both of these can be read on their own. I’ve been trying to finish this one for forever, so thanks for your patience. I credit Bruno’s birthday on the 17th the inspiration for finishing it. Be warned, as this has some bits that go into the dark depths of Bruno’s psyche while in the walls. Anyways, enjoy.

Dolores Madrigal liked to think of herself as a practical woman. A “don’t ask, don’t tell” kind of woman. After all, 7 plus years of hearing everything someone says or does- down to their heartbeat- tends to wear on one’s ability to care too much about the trivial little “he said she said”’s constantly being tossed about the small Encanto, of which there were many. She’d heard too much, starting at far too young an age, to be bothered with who’s having an affair with who, or the gossip that was spread across the dinner tables of the village.

No, instead, Dolores tended to save the announcements of revelations brought to her attention via her gift for the big things, for the important things. Like when the astonishingly old Señora Vasquez took a tumble off of her one and only porch step again, Dolores knew she’d need to relay the situation to her tía Julieta, who’d rush off with a plate of buñuelos to aid the fallen woman.

Not many things held Dolores’ attention for too long, and it took a lot for her to be surprised by something.

So when she had awoken the morning after her little cousin Mirabel’s failed gift ceremony, she had been shocked to find that she had been taken completely by surprise.

Her tío Bruno had simply… vanished, and it was the first time Dolores ever truly hated her gift. Somehow, in the middle of the night, Bruno had disappeared and because she was in her room when it happened (the only place which granted her relief from the never ending onslaught of noise), she hadn’t heard him slink away. And as the months passed, Dolores watched as the rest of her family and the Encanto began to turn their backs on the hope of finding their lost fortune teller. Their lost tío. Their lost hermano. Their lost friend. No amount of familial pressure, nor no amount of family feuding had ever disappointed Dolores about her family like their willingness- their eagerness- to forget Bruno had. And casita, it seemed, had agreed with her.

Dolores had noticed a whole new set of sounds emanating from within the walls of Casita, bemoaning the loss of a beloved Madrigal. Little creaks, small cracking sounds, even little sighing sounds as the house moved and settled. She’d never heard these sounds coming from within Casita before, but given that the house was… sentient, for a lack of better words, Dolores simply attributed the sounds to Casita’s mourning of Bruno.

It wasn’t until one night about 6 months later, where she had been up much too late, unable to sleep as her mind stirred restlessly with the predicaments her family were facing and fighting about, wandering the unlit halls of La Casa Madrigal when Dolores realised that the heartbreaking little sounds coming from the walls were not, in fact, the house itself. As she descended the stairs and entered the dining room, Dolores heard what she could only assume was someone… moving furniture? And with such a peculiar sound, how could a bright, young 12 year old not investigate?

As she listened more closely, she began to realise that the sounds, aside from the scraping of furniture across the floor, sounded all too familiar. A little “hmm” here, the shuffling of sandals there, and every so often, a “fuck!” hissed under a breath. And a heartbeat. To Dolores, it almost sounded like-

“Tío Bruno?”

Suddenly, all the noises behind the dining room wall stopped. No shuffling, no humming. Only the heartbeat remained, which grew increasingly louder and faster.

“Tío, I know it’s you.”

Bruno was silent for a minute, hoping that Dolores would turn around and walk away; hoping that she’d think she was mistaken and never think back on this moment again, or that she’d wake up the next morning and just assume that this was all a strange dream she’d had. But he knew better. His months of isolation hadn’t ruined his mind yet. Finally, he responded.

“You should be asleep, Dolores.”

But Dolores wouldn’t have that.

“Where have you been? The entire family was looking for you!”

“Dolores-“

“And then Abuela got tired of hoping and she was so angry and she gets mad whenever anyone talks about you now and-“

“Dolores! For someone who can hear to the ends of the earth, I would have thought you’d be able to listen better!”

The young girl was instantly embarrassed. I’ll never talk that much again, she thought. But she was angry. How could he sit back there, hiding from a family that was losing hope in him?

“I’m sorry, Dolores, I shouldn’t have said… Dolores, I need you to do me a favor; promise me that you won’t go and tell the family I’m here. For their sake. If they find out that Mirabel-“ Bruno cut himself off.

“Look, just know that this is for them. For the Encanto. For my miracle.”

Dolores was confused. How could abandoning the family possibly save them?

“But tío Bruno, we can save the miracle if we work together as a family!”

But this time, Bruno didn’t respond. At least- not verbally. Dolores could hear the quiet sobs that her uncle tried to muffle into his hand. She could hear the desperation that shivered down his spine with each shaky breath he tried to take in.

“No, Dolores. Not the miracle. My miracle.”

For a minute, Dolores was only more confused. But as she thought about it more… how could she forget, Bruno’s dearest friend, the one that spent so much time at La Casa Madrigal, the one Bruno had been too afraid to say “I love you” to? The one who had been to every Madrigal birthday and supported her and her brother and cousins their whole lives? The all-hearing girl had always been a hopeless romantic, and she always knew the bond her uncle had with his closest companion went far beyond friendship. Dolores always knew that what her tío and his friend possessed for each other was a deep, understanding, and desperate love. Dolores was pulled out of her pondering when her tío finally gathered himself together enough to speak coherently again.

“We finally told each other, and wow, do we have god-awful timing. Literally right as I was leaving.”

Dolores chuckled, “serves you right for the time you told me I’ll suffer from unrequited love my whole life.”

Bruno scoffed theatrically, “blasphemy! Slain by mine own kin! You put thine own self-serving words into my mouth, girl! Never did such an utterance leave my lips! But lo, I shant deceive thee, that mayhaps I had proclaimed that one day, a gent with whom you may or may not find yourself smitten with, shall propose matrimony unto a maiden yond is not thee!”

The two were resolved into a fit of quiet laughter over Bruno’s goofy Shakespearean acting, and for a moment, Dolores felt like she had her uncle back; that he wasn’t hiding behind a wall that was both literal and figurative.

Unfortunately, the gravity of the situation wouldn’t allow them to dwindle in that moment for long.

“All I have left is this portrait photo from few winters ago. At the time, I thought… I thought I’d have more time to say ‘I love you,’ but… well, we know how that turned out, don’t we? And when I left, I just figured that I’d dragged down the reputation of the one person who really cared about me enough; that maybe, if I was gone, I could give back what my miracle gave to me- a chance at something new. But then we kissed that night and I knew I’d always be a selfish son of a bitch. Oh, sorry! You didn’t hear me say ‘bitch!’ Oh shit, I did it again!”

As Bruno voiced his inner tangent about his cursing in front of his young niece, Dolores started to feel bad for her uncle; but she also couldn’t have been more proud to call him family in that very moment. He’d spent so long chasing after love, be it from his family, his community, or his miracle, only to have love ripped from him when he finally caught up to it. He willingly gave it up to protect everything.

“Can I ask for one more favor?”

“Anything, tío.”

“Can you… update me, from time to time? Just to let me know that everything’s ok. Just to make sure that the light doesn’t die. In either miracle,” Bruno added with a hollow chuckle.

“You have my word.”

Bruno sighed out, “thank you, Dolores,” and looked at the picture to his left. Various belongings he’d brought with him or had snagged when he snuck out at night had been littered across the floor, or piled up on crates he’d stacked up along the walls in lieu of bookshelves. His little room in the walls was disorganised and hodgepodged. But the picture of you he’d told Dolores about was proudly displayed on the only tidy part of the room- the little table he’d made for himself that sat attached to the wall he shared with the dining room. Bruno had placed the photo there, across from his seat where he’d crudely drawn the image of what was his family dinner plate, so as to seem that you were there with him while he ate, smiling not at the camera he had been holding when he took the picture, but at the current him; the Bruno that was hiding himself away. It was a good picture, too. You hadn’t realised he had taken it the time, and maybe you never would. You had stubbornly claimed you didn’t need a sweater that day because “you were never cold.” But then, you were cold, and so Bruno, who’d come thoroughly prepared as he was always cold, swept off the ruana he’d been wearing and angrily slipped it over your head, muttering about how ‘he was right’ and that ‘you should have brought your damn sweater.’ But one look at you, and he knew he’d never blame you for forgetting a coat again; in fact, he swore he’d make sure you’d forget it every time, just so he could keep relishing in the image that was you in his clothes.

But for the present Bruno, the photo was beginning to grow bittersweet; every glance he took at it reminded him of the fact that he’d most likely never get to see your face in person again. He’d never get to be playfully angry with you again. He’d never get to kiss you again. And as the weeks turned into months which turned into years, Bruno found that he couldn’t look at that picture much at all. And as much as Bruno told himself that forgetting you altogether would be so much easier, he knew that for one, he’d be utterly incapable of forgetting you, and two, it wouldn’t be fair to you. And so, Bruno suffered in near silence, save for Dolores’ occasional updates on your wellbeing.

And, according to his niece, you weren’t doing all too bad. You still spent time with your friends and family. You still went to the same bar the two of you frequented together (although sometimes you apparently spent a little too much time there). You still visited Casita to see his sisters and their families; a few times he’d even caught little glimpses of you through the holes in the wall, and it made it so much harder to remain hidden when he did.

But he was never more tempted to leave the walls for you than he was on the night of his 45th birthday. Alma had of course thrown a birthday bash for ‘Pepa and Julieta’ (it was no longer a birthday party for ‘the triplets,’ something that deeply wounded Bruno at first, but as the years dragged on Bruno found himself growing numb to it). The sisters had opted for a smaller affair than normal, with Pepa being suddenly pregnant again and unable to consume the alcohol needed to quell her nerves around large crowds.

Amongst the close friends and family in attendance was you, and with the party mostly taking place over dinner, Bruno got to watch you through the wall for most of the night. Dolores’ remarks about your worsening drinking habits were, to Bruno’s chagrin, true, as he saw you drink enough for both yourself and Pepa. Your drunken charades didn’t go unnoticed either; as everyone else trickled out for the evening, his mother pulled you aside.

“I’m worried about you,” he heard his mother remark to you. He watched as you cast your gaze away towards the wall, anywhere to escape her scrutiny. Little did you know that you were inadvertently staring into Bruno’s eyes through the unnoticed crack he used to peer out of.

“I’m fine, Alma. Just… passing time.”

Passing time until what? Bruno mentally inquired. Alma, it seemed, didn’t need to ask to know the answer.

“I know you had feelings for… him, but I had hoped you would have found someone else to warm your heart by now.”

The air grew stiff. The thickness penetrated even the walls, rooting Bruno to the spot. “Don’t say it” resonated between each of you. Everyone, including yourself, could feel that you wanted to say it, and your pause made it clear you were trying to hold your tongue, but it seemed the alcohol diminished your ability to do so.

“Bold words coming from you of all people, Alma.”

Alma, for her credit, took it far better than Bruno would have thought she would have; less personally than he thought she would have.

“All I meant was that you should seek happiness. That you should start thinking about your future beyond today; beyond this week, beyond this year.” You scoffed, bringing up the bottle of tequila you’d been nursing throughout the evening to take a sip of what was left of it. “But it’s hard to look that far into the future with a bottle of reposado permanently attached to your lips,” Alma encouraged, taking the bottle from your hand.

But you just cast your eyes downward, a far away look looming in them as you slurred your response.

“I spent so long dwelling in the future. For once, I want to just wallow in the past.”

Bruno didn’t miss the double entendre in your ‘future’ comment, and the thread of hope that you’d eventually be happier without him completely unraveled. After all, wasn’t one of the main reasons he’d hidden himself away to give you the chance for better? He spent so long pining after you. He spent so long knowing you loved him too, and spent too long being too much of a damn coward to say it aloud to you. And he almost risked it all in that very moment; almost hacked down the whole damn wall that kept you from him and oh, how it would have been the sweetest birthday gift he’d ever gotten, too.

But then he thought of the vision.

He thought of the miracle breaking. He thought of the house breaking. He thought of little Mirabel trying her hardest but eventually breaking herself.

He thought of you breaking.

And unlike Mirabel, not just in terms of your psyche.

No. No! He couldn’t dwell on that, it would devour him. No, he had to save you.

He could do this, he could stay away. He could save you from himself.

When Alma left the room, you remained behind, staring at the faded painting of Bruno on the family tree.

“Oh, mi amor. I hope that wherever you are, life’s easier for you than it is for me right now.”

You sunk to the floor and sobbed. “Happy damn birthday, Bruno.”

Had you been more sober, you’d have heard the “hush, amor, I’m always with you,” that came from within the walls.

As the next few years passed, you started coming around to La Casa Madrigal less and less, your presence an awkward reminder of what was and what could have been. When you did, you remained vacant; unexpressive and unimpressed, your brows permanently drawn upward in a passive resolve while your lips pulled downwards and deepened the frown lines around your mouth. Your eye sockets were deeper, your cheeks more hollow. Your weight fluctuated and your posture grew increasingly more slouched. But despite all that, your beauty never diminished in Bruno’s eyes.

It was the final years that were the hardest. It was as if he’d completely ceased to exist in not only the eyes of the Encanto, but in the eyes of his family. No one uttered his name, actively avoided it, really. Stories that involved him were not discussed, and any sentiment previously felt regarding him or his disappearance seemed to dissolve entirely. His name felt foreign to even his own tongue at this point, and with the passing years, the characters in the stories Bruno wrote to occupy himself started becoming synonymous with his own psyche; Bruno was no longer just Bruno. Bruno was also Hernando, the brave, the valiant, the suave. Bruno was Jorge, sturdy and practical. He was also Mateo, the laidback friend who always had weed. He was Teodoro, the honest. He was Andre. He was Roberto. He was Alejandro. The one person he was not? He was not Bruno. Never Bruno. Not anymore. Bruno was gone. Gone like… it didn’t matter. Bruno was useless when he was alive. Better off dead. Don’t think about him. He couldn’t scavenge the food at night like Santiago could. He couldn’t work the pipes to make some semblance of a shower like Jorge could. He’d never be good enough, like Diego was. Don’t think about it, shut it out. Shut it out! Keep the house standing. Let Dante write the stories so the rats can have something to do. The rats. The rats! Feed the rats! Another wall needs patching so the magic doesn’t break. Always the magic. Protect it. Protect them, Hernando! Oh, and don’t let Carlo spiral. He spirals. Spiral bad. Get food. Don’t fail them. Don’t fail them, don’t fail them-

“Can someone please just tell me about tío Bruno?”

Bruno, Bruno who?

“We don’t talk about Bruno!”

Yeah, we don’t talk about Bruno!

“Please, I’m going to save the miracle! But I need to know about Bruno if I’m going to do that!”

But the miracle is fine, Jorge patched it yesterday. Spilled spackle powder all over the floor, too. Why does Mirabel need to know about… who?

“If you want to know about Bruno, you should talk to his Miracle. Lives on the other side of town. The green house with the really tall palm tree.”

“Thank you, Dolores!”

Ah, Bruno. The one that belongs to his miracle. Bruno, the hopeless romantic. Bruno, who left to protect his family. Bad luck Bruno. Bruno the broken. Bruno the coward.

It was the first time he’d heard his name- his real name- in so long, over ten years. It was nice, grounding even, to hear it. And as… Bruno, watched Mirabel run off in search of his long lost friend, he felt like himself for the first time in a decade. And it was this clarity that told Bruno that his vision, the vision, was about to come to term. He could only hope he did enough to protect the magic, his family, and you.

Isabela Madrigal liked to think of herself as a cooperative woman. A woman of grace and sophistication. After all, 17 plus years of being everything someone else wants you to be- down to the smallest hair in place- tends to wear down on one’s ability to be anything outside of the preconceived perceptions placed upon them, completely complacent in the “I think you should”’s and “you must be perfect for”’s they’ve heard day in, day out.

But in this very moment, Isabela wanted nothing more than to break her reserve. She wanted to scream, shout, do anything to tarnish the image of her. After all, it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that whatever occupied the minds of her father and Mirabel seemed to be more important than her engagement dinner; an engagement dinner she had bemoaned the arrival of, nonetheless. She didn’t want to be here. She didn’t want to marry Mariano. She knew of Dolores’ feelings, and she held no real sentiments of romance toward him. So why not Dolores? But no, it couldn’t be Dolores that he was marrying. It had to be her. And as she watched her father and Mirabel pull strained, tight smiles and hurriedly encourage Mariano to propose, Isabela knew that no one in her family would ever even entertain the notion of her freedom. It was preposterous. Isabela? Her own person? Unacceptable.

Even her own mother was now preoccupied with Mirabel’s secret that Dolores undoubtedly told to the rest of the family. Julieta would never need to be concerned about Isabela; there was nothing to fix. She was already perfect. But Mirabel? Poor Mirabel, the gift-less one, the one that required all of her parents’ attention. Did they not realise that their eldest 2 daughters were flailing? Did they not realise that they needed fixing too?

When Isabela saw the reassembled shards of her long lost tío’s vision, she lost it. Poor Mariano, an innocent bystander of the disaster that was the Madrigal family, as a vine shot out of the ground and smashed his nose in. Of course, it was about Mirabel. Of course, the magic would only recognise Mirabel’s suffering. Of course she’d be the one to break the magic.

But what about everyone else? Was their suffering not enough to break the magic too? What about her tía Pepa, who had to suppress every negative emotion lest she wipe the town away with a wind storm? What about Luisa, who laboured tirelessly and without rest? What about her tío Bruno, who’s unfortunate gift was exploited to the point that he ran away? Did no one see their pain?

No, Isabela did not find it fair. She did not find it fair that, upon a closer look at Bruno’s vision, everyone was terrified of losing a magic that only seemed to create stress amongst the family, and she didn’t find it fair that her tío, wherever he may be, was about to lose everything.

“She’s back! She’s back!”

The cries of scared and flustered townsfolk rang through the air, signalling the return of Mirabel, who’d ran off in the aftermath of La Casa Madrigal falling. The horse sped through the streets, despite the weight of three people. And as Bruno looked around at the town he hadn’t seen in a decade, he was glad to see that most of the town went unscathed from the cracking of the mountain. A few houses here and there had a wall or two fallen in, two houses had even lost parts of their roofs as well. But nothing the town couldn’t pull together and fix. But none of them compared to the absolute ruin that was Casita.

“Mirabel! We looked everywhere for you! We were so worried!”

Bruno watched his sister embrace her daughter, watched on the side as the whole family came together for his mother to apologize. It was all a daze. He prayed that that part of his vision ended up not coming to fruition.

“My miracle… wasn’t at Casita when it fell, right?”

Everyone’s attention shifted towards him. He watched in slow motion as his sisters ran up to him, embracing him for the first time in 10 years. He remembered a round of apologies exchanged between the three of them. But he couldn’t focus. Not now. Not when-

“I need to know, please. The vision… my-“

“Not at Casita,” Mirabel exclaimed, “maybe at home, but not here. Looks like we can’t call you ‘back luck’ anymore, eh tío?”

Bruno wasn’t put at ease. His visions always came to pass, as much as he tried to stop them.

“Then where…” he trailed, his mind and stomach churning. There was a resounding chorus of “who”’s and “what”’s from his family, especially the younger members who did not remember the most important person in Bruno’s life. His sisters tried to pull him back, tried to console him. But his mind was elsewhere. His vision explicitly showed his miracle; showed the crumbling green wall-

The green house!

Bruno raced off, leaving his family confusedly chasing after him.

Bruno always figured the green wall in his vision that tumbled down on you was that of his tower. It would be fitting that he’d be your ruin; after all he’d done to try and tear you down in your youth. But never did he think that it would be your own house. He never thought the house he’d spent so much time in when he was a young adult getting to know you, watching shit novelas and drinking shit wine would have the wall that committed the crime. A home. Your home. The home he’d spent so much time imagining the two of you wasting your days away in, laying in each other’s arms. The home he’d carry you into after your wedding; he wouldn’t want to stay in La Casa Madrigal, no, he’d want his privacy with you. The home where he’d christen every surface with the essence of the two of you on your wedding night, taking you over and over and over again until the two of you collapsed from euphoric exhaustion. The home you’d come back to after long days, just to relish in each other as you got to work on making dinner together; eating together; washing the dishes together. The home where he might even imagine a boy and his younger sister playing in the yard as he hung up the laundry to dry; he always liked the names Joaquin and Naomi. Little Naomi, she’d be his headstrong little girl, she’d have your nose and his eyes and hair. Joaquin, the son he’d be so proud of, the exact opposite in features. The home where he’d have the rest of his life to be with you.

But all the fairytales of this home-to-be came to a crashing halt when he reached your house.

It was one of the two buildings whose roofs had caved in, and the scene was more brutally grotesque than his vision could have ever prepared him for. Two opposing walls had been split by the cracks in the earth, collapsing in on themselves, sending the roof above crashing to the ground. Rebar and wooden support beams were poking out from the broken drywall, and split bricks and shattered terracotta roof tiles littered the ground. And somewhere in all of this mess, was you.

At first he couldn’t move. All he could do was stand there and process. Move, you idiot, you have do something, the one person you could always count on is counting on you now! Bruno thought urgently, but his feet remained frozen. This couldn’t be happening, his vision must have been wrong. Please let it be wrong, just this once!

By this point, the rest of his family had caught up to him, taking in the pile of rubbish that was the fallen house. They knew whose house it was, they knew it’s significance. They knew what was about to come. They told Camilo and Mirabel to take Antonio back up the hill to Casita.

Finally Bruno moved, with the encouragement of his niece Luisa, as she took his hand and helped guide him in the process of cleaning up the rubble.

Bricks were moved, and with the help of Agustin, Luisa, and Felix, the larger chunks of wall were set aside. No stone left unturned. Bruno didn’t think he heard or felt a single thing the entire time they were cleaning up the mess. He was just looking. For a sign. For anything. He needed to find you. You were all that mattered. Sure it was great to have his family back, but he didn’t think that would matter all too much if you weren’t part of the package.

“Bruno,” he distantly heard Julieta say to him, and his heart plummeted to his stomach. Fat, hot tears broke free from their confines and rolled down his cheeks. He didn’t want to look. He saw the vision. He saw the wall that fell and inevitably crushed you. He knew what he was about to see. He couldn’t see this. He couldn’t see you dead.

“I can’t, Juli. I don’t think I can see… not like this.” He shut his eyes tight. He didn’t think he could handle this. It would break what was left of him.

He felt his sister’s comforting hand on his shoulder. “Bruno, I think you should turn around. Open your eyes,” she coaxed. But Julieta knew that her brother, as sweet as he could be, was stubborn. Annoyingly so. And so Bruno remained stalk still with his eyes closed, his breath held and his head empty. He couldn’t face this. He wouldn’t. You were fine. You were still on the stairs of a perfectly fine Casita, in his arms and your lips on his. You weren’t beneath the wall.

“Wow, after 10 years, it should be me standing here refusing to look at you, Bruno Madrigal.”

Suddenly, Bruno’s heart thawed. It couldn’t be…

But then he turned around, and there you were, as if you hadn’t been under the wall at all. Except you had been beneath it, clearly, as bits of drywall and dust powdered your disheveled hair. You had scrapes along your arms, hands, and face, and your clothes had suffered a few tears. But aside from that, you were fine. You were alive.

Bruno could only stand there and gawk, the bottom half of his jaw hanging slack in disbelief.

“But… I saw you! The vision… How?”

“Well, the wall did fall on me, but luckily it collided with the adjacent wall on the way down and it mostly shattered by the time I ducked under my kitchen table. The part of the roof that fell wasn’t even over me, for the most part. Wasn’t too hard to get myself out of the debris, either. Doesn’t say a lot about the quality of my house, though,” you quipped.

Bruno smiled. Your ability to make jokes at expense of the severity of intense situations used to piss him off sometimes, but now it was refreshing. Or maybe it was the way you were smirking at him. It could also possibly be the fact that you, save for a few greying hairs and the years starting to wrinkle your skin, still looked exactly like you. Still stunning. Or maybe it was a combination of all of these things, and it was the entirety of your presence that Bruno found refreshing.

But Bruno figured he could think on these things later. Right now, he had bigger fish to fry. After all, he had been separated from you from 10 years, and Bruno knew he couldn’t wait a minute longer to kiss you again.

And so he started walking over to you. You started walking towards him, but you stride was bigger, and it seemed like you were going to meet him 3/4 of the way.

Like you always did. You met him 3/4 of the way down the bar. You met him 3/4 of the way up the stairs. But Bruno was done with that. He was ready to take whatever this was that had spent so long growing between you all the way. So he ran in order to make the distances the two of you travelled equal.

When he finally reached you he wasted no time in grabbing your face and smashing your lips onto his. Your hands fisted into his ruana and hair, and the hand that wasn’t holding your head in place snuck down to wrap his arm around your back, pulling you into him. He couldn’t possibly fathom what was happening outside of the little world the two of you were in, making him acutely aware of what was happening inside of it. He could feel his tears mingling with yours as your lips melted together. Your lips were just as chapped as his. Your tongue tasted faintly of añejo and orange. Your eyelashes were soft and feathery against his cheeks, and every so often his nose would collide with yours. Your skin was rougher with age and hardship and it was perfect as it rubbed against his stubble.

Bruno was grateful that for once, time seemed to stand still for him. There was no future. There was just now. Now with you.

Eventually, the realisation that most of Bruno’s family was standing behind you seemed to seep into your consciousnesses, so you reluctantly pulled away with embarrassed chuckles.

Bruno wrapped his left arm with your right. “C’mon, I have a prophecy to fulfil.”

You didn’t need to ask to know which prophecy he was referring to.

Bruno didn’t bother turning backwards before he spoke, and with a confidence he’d never used but surely inherited from his mother, he addressed his family.

“Julieta, run to the jeweller’s shop and pick up that pair of gold rings she has in the window but no one ever wants to buy because they don’t like that the bride’s band has an emerald instead of a diamond. I know she hasn’t sold them, they’ve been there as long as we’ve been alive.”

The Madrigal family stood stunned and confused. What was Bruno on about? Surely there were more pressing matters at hand than jewellery. But Bruno continued.

“Felix and Agustin, go to the tailor’s and get me a guayabera. Something smart but comfortable. Oh, and a new pair of pants, these have more holes than the sky has stars,” Bruno laughed as he began to lead you towards the center of town.

“Isabela and Dolores, go with them. Find the most stunning garment for my Miracle to wear, and maybe some flowers. Mama and Pepa, go back to Casita and get the kids. Luisa, if you could, run ahead of us and fetch the Father; you’re the fastest runner. Tell him we’re on our way and to have everything ready for us.”

Pepa spoke up first. “Bruno, what is going on?”

The prodigal son only looked at you and smiled.

“Isn’t it obvious? We’re getting married.”

The rest of the family stood in excited silence.

“But... why now?” Alma questioned.

Bruno only pulled you closer, and you looked at him with pride and love in your eyes.

“No time like the present.”

#bruno madrigal x reader #bruno madrigal #bruno likes tequila #reader likes tequila too #encanto #encanto fanfic #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction

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