JJBA x Readers Volume 2

Bruno Schoolyard

Bruno defo names his kids with meanings

Signorina Ceasareo, Ceasareo is to cut, she cuts with her words

Stood in the playground again with your youngest at two, Rosabella, on the end of your wrist, you chatted with the other mothers about children and schooling, two universal playground affairs. Everybody knew your husband, Bruno Bucciarati, and it was no secret they were jealous. He was handsome, caring and hard-working, making the mamas swoon in the playground if he turned up to collect them. He always greeted them to discuss children and unfortunately, this made you bait for their envy. He'd been acting on his protective streak and collecting the children with you almost every day ever since, especially through your fifth pregnancy.
However, today was a day you'd encouraged him to remain at work, telling him that you would be fine and though hesitant, he gave in, promising to stay at work if it meant he would see your smile when he got home.

"I saw your husband the other day," a female voice told you, approaching you from the side. Suddenly, the two you were speaking to disappeared with their families, leaving you in the dust to deal with this known repeat offender. She picked on the other families no matter their background. You felt sorry for her children.
"Oh, where?" Attempting to make casual conversation, her snarl prompted you to pull your daughter closer to you, actually lifting her from the ground and holding her at your side. The woman came nearer, grinning evilly as a reaction brewed.
"A dark alley. What else would he be doing in there aside from drugs?" You pouted, swallowing the nasty words you were prepared to scream at her. He wouldn't—Doesn't do that.
"Well, I can assure you my husband doesn't deal drugs," you spat, holding back your p's and q's through gritted teeth. You'd been advised not to buy into such accusations, but when people used the substance that ruined his life to get at him, especially though you or the kids, it boiled your blood. Rumours had flown round she was saying things to other people's children too, not just about Bruno, but the school wouldn't do anything. "He works in recruitment," you lied. You knew full well he was a gangster and it probably wasn't an appropriate career choice around children, but he just did so much for the community, you just fell in love with him more and more every day. Your husband just wasn't like the shitbags the movies painted out mobsters to be like. Bruno wasn't sly, womanising or cold. At least, not to you or the children. His violent tendencies were obvious by the numerous scratches and bruises he came home with more often than not, but he never dealt with work in front of the children, which was more than you could ask for you supposed. There was always a roof over your heads, food on the table and anything the kids required, so you guessed it didn't matter where he got it from. Heating up at the woman's audacity, your youngest, became restless and wriggly.
"Mama, too tight," she complained. You loosened your grip slightly, biting your lip to prevent you from speaking out of turn. If Bruno was here, he'd be telling you to relax. That was the thought that spun round your head.
"Of course he would tell you that, mio caro. Men are snakes, all of them; especially men who claim things like that."
Feeling a presence behind you, you whipped your head round to give the intruder a mouthful but suddenly felt thankful you had been betrayed. Blue eyes beneath the blunt, ebony bob wading in to intervene and come to your rescue. This was the real reason he had been overprotective; this bitch.
"Buon pomeriggio, Signorina Ceasareo."
"Ah, just in time. I've just been telling your wife about how you get aggressive with your clients over white packets. Disgusting scumbags like you shouldn't have children! I have half a brain to report you to child protective services-!"
"What did you just say?!" Handing him the girl, Bruno took her softly and tried to pull you back by your arm at the same time. He was always so calm, stopping you from beating her ass. "Say it again!"
"It's alright, Y/N." Taking a few steps ahead of you, you looked on with eyes like pin pricks. You knew he was a capo and he hurt people, sometimes killing them, but it was also of your understanding they were terrible, evil people and deserved what they got. "If you have a problem with me, we can discuss that."
"What are you talking about?" Setting Rosabella down beside him, the child chewed at her fingers, offering them out to the lady since she didn't really understand. Folding your arms, you stood beside him in wait, biting your lip so hard it was at risk of bleeding. If she escalated this anymore you were going to rearrange her face in front of everybody.
"I'm not finished. If you have a problem with me, we can deal with that together. I invite you to discuss it with me. But don't involve my wife or my children, they're innocent." Breath catching in your throat, you thought about his words. Was he admitting to dealing drugs? Contorting her face, Ms Caesareo bared what was left of her teeth, growling.
"You're scum, Bucciarati."
"Shut your whore mouth up-!!" Lurching forward, he gripped you with both arms and held you back in a half hug. You complied, only so you didn't scare the kids or get escorted off the school grounds.
"Leave it, amore. You're eight months pregnant."

Later, walking home from school, your children roamed a little ahead to play, leaving you and your husband a chance to talk privately. Along with a few pointers not to go to far or run away, the kids were fine just in your sights.
"It's just as well you turned up, I was going to fucking kill her." Pausing for a moment, you matched his concerned gaze as you walked. "Thank you. I would have been sat in a police station, Bruno."
"Bella mio," he hummed, stopping to tilt your chin up through a smile. "I've told you not to get worked up, it's bad for you both." Before you could retort, he pressed his finger over your lips, shushing you for interrupting. Taking your hand, he led you further forward so that the children could cross the road and continue their playtime. "Besides, you don't need to get your hands dirty over scum like that." Cheeks flushing, you felt so lucky to have such a caring man as your husband.
"Come on, Papa!" Rosabella called, gesturing for the pair of you to hurry up. The roads were clear, and Bruno could keep up with the two year-old, so she was allowed to roam a little on the way home.
"Yeah, sorry Tesoro," he answered, picking up the young girl and swinging her around a little to coax adorable giggles from her. Lifting her over his head, she sat on his shoulders and grabbed hold of his head. "Alright, Paolo, hold onto Mama's hand so Romano and Renata can hold my hands. Are you ready, girls?" Cheering, they crossed the street together with a smile, waiting for you to catch up on the other side. Once you made it over, you gripped onto Bruno's arm to steady yourself. The argument in the playground had taken its toll on your already delicate state. Mumbling into the ivory material, his homely scent made you feel safe.
"Papa, what's wrong with Mama?" Renata asked, patting your belly.
"Mama just worries too much," he grinned, silken voice buttering you up as usual. You joined in with the conversation, bending over a little to meet eye to eye with your daughter.
"I'm just tired, Tesoro. Very soon, you'll have to help me look after your new little brother."