Bruno Bucciarati : "I'll Know If You Stop Smiling"

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Names:
Paolo Bucciarati
Renata & Romano Bucciarati
Rosabella Bucciarati
Tino Bucciarati

Family fluff 🙏👪😭

"Come on, it's bedtime!" He heard you shout through the ceiling of the house. You cradled your youngest son, baby Tino, in your arms, awaiting the pitter patter of four pairs of tiny feet running down the stairs. First to fly in was Paolo, the firstborn named after his father, followed by the youngest daughter, Rosabella and finally, the twins, Romano and Renata. Excited, they danced and jumped around the kitchen, definitely not ready for bobos.
"We wanna wait up for Papa!" Rosabella announced. Tilting your head, their puppy eyes always won their father over, but you saw through it.
"But its seven o'clock, you know," you replied. You have school in the morning and you'll be sleepy.
"But Mama, I want to see Papa before I go to sleep!" Sighing over cheers of agreement, your eyeroll accomplished by a flash of grinning teeth told them they had gotten away with a late night again - or so they thought. The tell-tale key in the door sent them flying towards their male parental figure, greeting his babies with open arms. Chuckling in the hallway, Bruno slipped off his shoes and walked into the kitchen as if he was trudging through thick sludge, the children clinging to his legs and back in fits of giggles.
"Aha!" you exclaimed. "Seems the bedtime king has arrived to put you all to sleep!"
A collective awww broke your husband's heart as he gazed down at his perfect family.

Later in the other room, the children gathered round their father for a story before bedtime.
"I wanna hear the one about the mould monster!" Bruno's head bounced from one child to the other, each one requesting a different bedtime story.
"No! The one about the train is better!"
"But Papa hasn't told us the airplane one in ages!!"
"The one about the golden man on the bus is the best one, though, Papa!" your youngest girl whined. Smiling through trembling lips, the Italian took a hand and stroked his smallest's face.
"Rosabella, I told you that one last night,"he chuckled, considering his options. Rosabella, the youngest, wanted to hear about his first encounter with Giorno, whilst Paolo loved Cioccolata's tale about the underground man he kept as a pet. Of course, the twins always asked for either Prosciutto and Pesci's attack on the train or the nightmare Carne begun on their flight to Sardinia. They began to bicker, fighting over what they wanted to be told. Bruno was about to try and diffuse the situation when you appeared in the doorway, a tired smile on your face. You were ready for bed, awaiting the children to have their story and go to their own beds themselves.
"Why don't we see what Mom wants to hear," he proposed, attempting to coax you in to your room. He always told them stories on your shared bed before leading them to their rooms to tuck them in. You padded through, pressing your palm to Paolo's head and threading your fingers through his noir hair, inherited from his father.
"You shouldn't tell them such things, Bruno. They'll have nightmares," you sighed meeting his eyes with your own before giggling. "Though I suppose you could tell them the one about the shark."
They'd never heard the tale of Squalo and Tiziano, a good choice for sure. It was a hit, and the evening ended with you and your husband snuggling up in bed, resting up for the new day.

"Tesoro, I have to go now." Shuffling, you hesitantly opened your eyes, day's blinding light overpowering you.
"What...? Wh- Bruno, darling, what time is it?" Pressing a finger to your lips with a chuckle, he perched himself on the edge of the bed.
"It's eleven. You were fast asleep so I took the children to school."
Gasping, you flew forwards, shocked at how long he had left you to sleep! Throwing an arm out, he stalled you, preventing you from getting up. "Hey, steady on," he lulled, voice a mere whisper as he took your chin in his fingers, eyes locked on your pout. Tilting your head up to face him, he pressed his lips to yours sweetly, reminding you he wasn't running away, he was just sorting out something and coming back.
"I'll be back before that smile can drop from your beautiful face." You went to protest when he switched his finger to a thumb, stopping you from talking with a soft sound. "And I'll know if you stop smiling."

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