Wild Horses

Lovecat

A/N if you read my other jjba hot garbage dumpster fire about part three, then you might notice a similarity between my oc's stands. Sorry my imagination is dead, yall. 🤡

Bucciarati came back a week later to pick up his re-tailored suit and one-of-a-kind bespoke lace undershirt. And Fugo came with him. "FUGO!" Lira jumped from behind her sewing machine and went to hug him. "Where the fuck have you been? You think being in the mafia now you can avoid me?"

All color left Bucciarati's face and his mouth hung open slightly when he heard Lira say "in the mafia."

"LIRA! You can't just shout things like that," Bucciarati hissed smoothly. Their eyes met for a few seconds before she grumbled "sorry" and motioned to the clothing rack. Bucciarati's eyebrows raised at the realization that Lira had known the entire time about his involvement with Passione. Last week when she had been fixing my zippers, taking my measurements, telling me that I needed a new undershirt - she knew I could be a dangerous and powerful man, yet she didn't seem fazed, he thought.

"Your new, um, lingerie is over there," she motioned sarcastically, mentally trying to rib him for being so serious. And she just called my new undershirt 'lingerie,' Bucciarati thought. She's either really brave, or really stupid.

Bucciarati stepped over to the rack, ignoring her remark. Both Lira and Fugo eyeballed him as he pulled his old shirt over his head and hung it neatly on an empty hanger. Then they caught each other staring at Bucciarati and struggled to stifle their giggles.

"What's so funny?" Bucciarati asked suspiciously as he pulled the black lace onto his torso and checked himself out in the full length mirror. He put on his jacket and made Lira and Fugo turn around while he changed into his white pants. "Lira, this is beautiful. Oh my, I feel like an angel from the Sistine Chapel," he cooed before dropping a thick billfold on her desk. She tried not to gawp at the amount of money that just landed with a thud. They had never discussed payment, but Bucciarati made sure Lira was taken care of. It was then the brown cat waltzed into the room from the back apartment and nuzzled into Bucciarati's leg.

"Oh, hello little kitty," he acknowledged it briefly. "I have some business to take care of that shouldn't take long. Fugo, stay here and help Lira design that new suit you've been talking about and I'll be back shortly."

After he left, Lira turned to Fugo. "Is he your boss?! Oh my god Fugo, he's so fuckin fine!!"

"I KNOW!" Fugo panted. "Mama mia, I almost lost my composure when he took his shirt off." The two of them giggled. "That silk lace on him, oh my god Lira, you've just made the whole neighborhood a better place!" They continued laughing, thinking about the little old ladies who would be drooling over the mafioso. "Hey, when did you get a cat?"

Lira stopped laughing. "You can see her?" Fugo nodded before saying "Bucciarati did, too."

"I thought nobody could see the cat except me. She's a ghost or something."

"Lira..." Fugo paused. "When did you get a stand?"

"A what? She just appeared a few days after you joined the mafia. I haven't seen you since, you know."

"Holy fuck," Fugo said, "We have to tell Bucciarati. What's your stand's power?"

"Stand power? She's just lucky, like if she rubs on someone, they'll come into the shop. And she helps me upsell services and stuff like that. She just helps is all."

"That sounds like some sort of mind control," Fugo said seriously. He wasn't wrong, Lira thought.

"Yea, I mean, people kind of do what I want them to I guess, if I can persuade them. But only when the cat rubs on them. Then the persuasion is definitely going to work."