Cupid doesn’t gamble II
Summary: Leon, a mafia boss whose empire dominates all casinos on the west coast, meets a young girl amidst a game of poker. What would happen if he threw all his chips and gambled his love for you?
Warning: Mafia!Boss!Leon x Female!Reader. Eventual smut. Slow burn. Romantic. Leon is a gentleman. Characters are 21+ (plot wise). Researched topics. Mentions of violence. Read at your own discretion.
Word Count: 6,142
A/N: I was giggling and kicking my feet while writing this🤭 holy shit I’ve never written something so damn corny before… I LOVE IT TEEHEE. Ugh I love me some good fluff.
[I][III]
“I gave a second chance to Cupid, but now I'm left here feelin' stupid. Oh, the way he makes me feel that love isn't real. Cupid is so dumb,” - Cupid (Twin Ver.), Fifty Fifty
When Saturday arrived, you dressed yourself in a formal dress. You could only assume he’d want me to dress fancy since he always seemed to wear a suit. You didn’t think you’ve ever see him wear something casual.
The clock marked seven and you patiently waited in your room. You wore a black skin tight dress that reached your knees. It wasn’t from the most luxurious and high brand but it was still quite beautiful. The sleeves were actually a cape draped over your shoulders in a thin sheet of mesh fabric. Even your heels matched your dress. You’ve never been one to dress immodest on the first date. Your hair was done tied down and your makeup was light but not too boring. Everything looked just right.
Leon leaned against his car, his eyes focused on the door of your apartment building. He had been there for a while now, waiting patiently. He was dressed in one of his nicer suits, this one a deep navy blue. Although he didn’t bother to wear his signature red scarf or gloves.
He glanced at his watch, it was a minute before seven. He pushed himself away from his car, his eyes never straying from your door. He’d known Mafia Bosses who had to be punctual at all times, and now, it was a habit.
The neighborhood your apartment was in was on the side of the working class. You didn’t live in the richest part of town so his car stood out like a sore thumb.
Leon suppressed a sigh as he checked his watch again. Seven o’clock, on the dot. He started walking towards the door, his steps slow but steady. When he finally stood in front of your door, he took a moment to straighten his suit before raising his hand to knock, his knuckles rapping against the door three times.
He could already imagine your flustered reaction to seeing him again. He almost smiled at the thought, but his expression remained neutral, his face a stony mask. He waited.
Upon hearing the sounds of the knocking, you quickly made your way to the front door and opened to find Leon dressed so formally. He looked really good, your breath hitched and your heart skipped a beat.
“Leon,” you said with a soft smile, “You made it.”
Leon’s eyes roamed over you as you opened the door, taking in your appearance. The light makeup, the black dress, the tied-up hair, everything about you looked absolutely perfect. He couldn’t help but think that you looked even prettier than the last time he saw you.
He returned your smile with a small one of his own, his eyes softening slightly at the sight of you.
"Of course I did," he said, his gaze never leaving yours, "I said I would, didn’t I?"
He was so gentle, like an innocent lotus that blooms above water. Hence why you couldn’t help the smile you had, “You did,” you whispered as you maintained his eye contact.
You closed the door behind you and walked down the steps to stand in front of him. Even with heels he stood above your height.
“You look very handsome,” you complimented as you gestured for his own outfit. His suit seemed rich and expensive, made with only the best craftsman. Leon’s eyes darkened slightly at your compliment, a small smirk tugging at the edge of his lips. He was used to compliments, but coming from you… it was different. It sent a flutter through his chest, something he wasn’t used to feeling.
"You're one to talk," he replied, his gaze roaming over your figure again, "You look absolutely stunning."
He extended his arm out towards you, his gesture a silent invitation as he waited for you to take it.
His words were sincere, no lie detected. As if he was truly honest, why would he lie to a woman? He didn’t seem the type to try and hook up on the first date. He had manners and etiquette. You gently wrapped your hand around his bicep as he offered his arm to you. You’ve only ever seen this in movies, you didn’t think people still did it in real life.
“Thank you,” you replied softly, staring up at him as the lights from the stars above you twinkled in your eyes. Leon felt the warmth of your touch on his arm, the way your fingers wrapped around the material of his suit. It was a simple touch, but it already felt too intimate. He knew this was dangerous terrain, getting close to you like this, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.
He didn’t miss the way your eyes met his, a warm sparkle in them as the reflection of the stars danced across them. You looked almost enchanted by him, like a doe staring up at a wolf.
But Leon was no wolf. He was so much more dangerous than that.
Leon led you to his car, his arm still intertwined with yours. His steps were steady, his gaze focused on guiding you to the vehicle. The night was cool and yet, he wasn’t even paying attention to the cold.
His mind was occupied with other things, specifically the thought of how to keep your attention on him. Most of the women he’d dated before didn’t stay for long. He figured they were only interested in his money.
But you were different. It somehow felt like you were truly interested in getting to know him, and not his bank account.
When you neared his car, he actually held the door open for you until you sat down and closed it. Such manners! As he began to drive, you couldn’t help but marvel at his car. Even the interior looked expensive, “Nice car,” you commented softly.
Leon gave you a small shrug, slightly amused by your compliment. He was used to women swooning over his expensive assets, his cars, his houses.
But you didn’t do that. And it was refreshing to say the least.
"It's not bad," he agreed, his eyes on the road. He wasn’t looking at you, but he could still sense your gaze on him. He glanced over at you briefly, a small smirk on his lips.
"You’re not very impressed by the car, are you?" he asked bluntly.
Your cheeks flushed a bit and you shook my head, “I actually don’t know anything about cars,” you replied abashedly, “But I like it. It looks nice. Very comfy.”
Maybe he was used to hearing women compliment his assets and his bank account but you weren't used to such a lavish life so you didn’t know much. But it was all still impressive, not because of the price but because the car genuinely looked like it was taken good care of.
Leon chuckled softly at your answer, the sound low and warm. He could tell he managed to make you flustered again, a slight pink tinge on your cheeks that he found endearing.
"You’re the first woman I’ve met who didn’t swoon over the car instead of the man driving it," he said bluntly, his eyes on the road still.
He found it interesting, your lack of reaction to his worldly possessions. Most women, in his experience, fell over themselves just to ride in this car.
Okay maybe it was a bit weird reducing his car to just ‘comfy’ but it was fresh and real. It was an unexpected response but it seemed like he liked it.
You stared out the window, shaking your head once again, “Why would I put a car over a person?” You muttered before you glanced at him driving.
“A car won’t love me back. It won’t wipe my tears off my face,” you continued, “All it does it take from point A to point B. Why would I choose a car over someone?”
Leon's eyes left the road briefly to look at you, his expression unreadable. Your answer seemed simple and honest, genuine even. Most of the women he’d met cared about how much he could spoil them. They wanted fancy jewelry, expensive clothes. They never cared about the little things, the soft spoken words and the caring touches.
"That makes sense," he replied softly, his eyes focusing back on the road.
“In any case,” you muttered, unaware of how your words affected him for the better. You, in fact, did care about the little things. The lingering touches, the stolen glances—you lived for all of that.
“I think if you love someone,” you continued, staring at the road in front of you, “You understand them. You don’t lust after them, you don’t judge them, and you don’t compare them. To love someone, is to love so innocently but also very intimate in the sense that it isn’t sexual.”
“No car can replicate that type of love,” you whispered and glanced at him. Maybe you were being a bit indirectly forward, but you wanted him to know that you didn’t care if he was the richest man on earth or the poorest man, it was his morals and values that mattered.
Leon’s fingers tightened their grip on the steering wheel as he listened to your words. Your explanation of love was sweet, pure. It was almost like hearing a child’s view on the world, innocent and untainted.
It was so far from his own views on love. Love was a weakness, a risk that only ended in more pain and hurt. He had seen it many times, how people would do horrible things, all in the name of love.
But hearing your idealistic explanation of love… it sounded almost alien to him.
Your words felt almost like a revelation to him, a realization that love was supposed to be innocent, and intimate, and so much more than just material things.
He took a deep, steady breath, his mind quietly processing your words, the way they seemed to touch a part of him he thought was long gone.
"You have a way with words," he said, his voice laced with a hint of admiration.
A shy smirk reached your lips and you looked down at your hands on your lap, “Not really,” you muttered, “I just really like to read romance.”
“I’ve read Anna Karerina, Lorna Doone, and Forever Amber,” you listed softly. You loved romance novels, reading about predestined love and star crossed lovers often resulting in a battle of emotions was all so interesting to you.
Leon's gaze briefly flickered towards you, a hint of amusement in his eyes. It was endearing, your passion for romance. It was almost cute.
"Ah, a romantic at heart," he commented, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, "I've heard of those books. Bit tragic, aren’t they?"
He remembered the brief details he’d heard about those stories, tales of love, passion and despair. It all seemed a bit cliché.
“Yes,” you agreed, “It is tragic but what is love if there aren’t consequences? The true enemy of love is not hatred, it’s indifference and doubt.”
“I like to think that love is a double edged sword, a line so thin that divides happiness and depression. It’s our choices that make that sword tilt either side,” you commented quietly.
Leon’s grip on the steering wheel tightened even further at your words. They were deep and profound, making him think of things he’d never pondered before.
“And what happens when that sword tilts the wrong way?” he asked, his voice a little cold.
He'd seen the darker side of love, the way it could make people do things they'd never thought they were capable of. He'd never been a stranger to that kind of love. The kind of love that consumed and destroyed.
“Then you let it tilt until it’s back straight. It’s a rotation, a cycle. Eventually… love will be the right way,” you said.
“Love can destroy and create, not so different from a god. You can create to destroy or you can destroy to create. You can hate to love or love to hate. But in the end, it’ll always be there,” But your view on love wasn’t all happy, it wasn’t all sad either. You’d like to think you had a balance of understanding the good and bad about the subject of love.
Leon chuckled darkly, a bitter, almost sarcastic sound. The cycle of love you described was something he had never believed in.
"Love can’t just fix itself," he replied, "Once it's destroyed something, it can never bring it back. Nothing can."
You smiled and looked at him, “Sure it can,” you replied, “Love *can* be fixed as it can fix others.”
“It’s everywhere. It’s in the trees, in the sea, in our blood—love exists and it hasn’t died. It can’t die. If there is no love, what will there be?” You said softly, “There will be people that hurt you and no matter how much love you give them, it’ll never be enough.”
“But that doesn’t make it the end of the world. It’s a temporary wound in your heart that feels too deep to heal but like all injuries… it slowly heals. Love is time. And you have time to love,” you muttered softly, still staring at him, “And with the right person, you’ll learn,” you said as you hesitantly rested your hand on his shoulder. Leon didn't look at you, his gaze stayed forward, watching the road. But he could feel the lingering touch of your hand on his shoulder, a stark contrast to his cold demeanor.
"You speak so kindly of love," he said softly, his demeanor softening, "As if it hasn't hurt you before."
He was softening, it’s like he couldn’t stay mad forever. “It has,” you whispered, squeezing his shoulder and giving him a small smile, “But I’ve learned to accept that the pain wasn’t just a setback. It was a step for the future.”
Leon's expression softened ever so slightly as you squeezed his shoulder and smiled at him. Your words, your optimism, it made him feel almost guilty for his cold demeanor.
He inhaled a breath, his body relaxing a little. You were a rare one, he had to admit that. In his line of work, he never encountered people like you, who spoke of love with such gentle wisdom.
As you neared the restaurant, it was busy with late night goers. People dressed in nothing but their bestest dresses and suits. It was quite fancy.
-
You had been sitting at your table that he had reserved, spending the time talking about your interests and telling stories. You don’t think you’ve ever laughed as much as you did tonight. He was funny, charismatic, kind, and patient. It was like he had cracked your introverted shell.
Leon's eyes lingered on you as you laughed, a small, warm smile tugged at the corner of his lips. You looked cute when you laughed, he had to admit. He was enjoying your company more than he thought he would. It wasn't just mindless banter, there was an ease in their conversation that he wasn't used to.
Leon raised his glass of wine, silently gesturing for yours to clink against.
"To a lovely evening," he said, his gaze never leaving yours.
You raised your glass of wine and clinked it against his with a smile, “To a lovely date,” you added before you sipped my glass. Once you put my glass down, you sighed softly and looked at him, “Thank you for this date. I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy before on a first date,” you said with a small laugh.
The corner of Leon's mouth twitched into a small smile again as you thanked him. He was glad to see that you were enjoying yourself as much as he was.
He took a drink from his glass as well, his eyes still studying you, studying that beautiful smile on your face.
"No need to thank me," he said softly, setting his glass down as well. "This night is just as much for me as it is for you."
You leaned forward and rested your arms on the table, “Are you always such a gentleman?” You inquired with interest, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you act differently.”
"Perhaps," he replied, his gaze fixed on you, "I've always been taught to treat women with respect."
“It’s nice,” you whispered with a smile, your cheeks pink from drinking wine, “It’s way better than what modern dating is.”
"Modern dating?" he repeated, arching a brow, "Not into that whole 'Netflix and chill' nonsense?"
You chuckled and shook your head, “Oh, god, no!” You said as you rested your elbows on the table, your chin resting on the palm of your hand, “That’s like asking someone if you want to have sex. And I don’t do it like that.”
“I’d never ask anyone if they want to ‘Netflix and Chill’,” you muttered, “If anyone said that to me, I’d think they were a walking red flag.”
Leon chuckled at your reaction and shook his head as well. It was refreshing to meet someone who wasn't into the casual 'Netflix and chill' culture.
"I'm inclined to agree with you there," he commented, a hint of amusement in his voice, "It's a little too shallow for my taste. I prefer spending time getting to know someone before... well, anything else."
He took a sip of his wine, his gaze still on you, studying your expression. There was something so genuine about you. It was quite rare in his usual line of work.
“I agree with you on that,” you muttered softly as you watched him sip his wine, “I prefer to love than to lust.”
Leon's eyes widened ever so slightly at your words. Your honesty and your perspective on love and lust were a breath of fresh air.
"Love rather than lust, huh?" he replied, his voice almost a whisper. He set his glass of wine back down on the table.
He leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the table, his gaze intense and focused on you, "Quite a profound way of looking at things," he added, a hint of intrigue in his tone.
“Well, yes,” you said, you could feel yourself enter a state of rambling. Of digressing, if you will, “Everyone is so obsessed with instant gratification that we often forget that the process to reach that state is far more rewarding than the feeling itself.”
“It is like walking up the steps of a mountain and your only goal is to get to the other but in order to get to the other side, you must take calculated steps otherwise you’ll slip and fall. And that’s what life is about. To slip and fall but to also pick yourself up in order to achieve a goal, whether it is eternal happiness or a momentous fleet of bliss, the process in which we get there feels more satisfying than the actual feeling of being at the top that can only last a few seconds,” you rambled.
“Love is cherishing all the moments in which led you to be where you are. If we don’t appreciate what we have, someone else will,” then, your cheeks turned a bit pink as you realized you rambled, “Sorry. I went on a tangent there,” you said with a small and awkward laugh.
Leon simply sat back in his chair, a small smile playing at his lips as you spoke. He found himself listening intently to every word you said, captivated by your passion and eloquence.
"Don't apologize," he said, the hint of a smirk on his lips, "I find it endearing when you get carried away like that. You're quite the deep thinker. I like that."
You chuckled softly and nodded once more. You were indeed a deep thinker, a philosopher at heart. Everything that dealt with life, you loved to hear about.
“I just have a lot of thoughts in my mind,” you muttered quietly, “What about you?” You asked suddenly.
“What do you like to do?” You asked as you tilted your head slightly to the side, almost curiously.
Leon chuckled at your question. It was only fair that he be asked about himself. He took a moment to think before responding.
"What do I like to do?" he echoed, a hint of amusement in his voice, "Well, I'm a man of many interests. I enjoy reading, going to nice restaurants, taking walks... and gambling."
He paused, a sly grin slowly spreading across his face, "And you know I'm a pretty damn good poker player."
You rolled your eyes despite your lips curling into a smile, you weren’t all truly annoyed. He was a really good player that beat various times whenever you played for the first time together. The one where you met.
“Yes,” you nodded your head slightly and sat back, crossing one of your legs over the other, “You are a good player. I’m still grateful you forgave what I owed you after the rounds.”
"You know I have a soft spot for pretty girls," he said with a small chuckle, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary.
He reached across the table and gently patted the top of your hand, his gesture both affectionate and reassuring.
"It wasn't a big deal," he continued, his expression growing serious again, "Besides, I knew you weren't just some rich kid wasting your parents' money. That you were being responsible."
Your face softened and you didn’t move your hand away, the action seemingly affectionate and it warmed your heart. He was so gentle, wasn’t he?
“Just thought of spending a few dollars hoping I’d get more, but I learned my lesson,” you whispered before your hand hesitated a bit. You turned your hand over, essentially putting your palm up against his palm.
Your heart was beating fast, just the simple touch from his hand was enough to set your heart ablaze, “I’d never spend my parents’ money… you’re right on that,” you added, your voice quieter as you stared down at your hands together. Leon's eyes flickered down to where your hands met on the table and lingered there for a moment. He inhaled a tiny breath, his mind momentarily distracted by the feel of your skin against his.
The touch was simple, but in his line of work, he'd nearly forgotten the sweetness of physical affection. He gently curled his fingers over yours, holding your hand in a firm but gentle grip.
The touch was gentle, intimate, and tender. A softness of the warmth shared between you as your fingers gently played across his hand, your thumb rubbing his skin in a setting to wake a trail of warmth.
You didn’t know what took over you to do that but for some reason it felt natural. As if you were meant to hold him like a dream. That’s what he was, a dream personified right before you.
Your eyes drifted from your hands back to his eyes, watching as the dim and orange light of the restaurant play across his features in a harmonious and seraphic light. As your gazes met again, he couldn't help but be entranced by the way the soft candlelight from the restaurant played across your features. It was as if they were crafted to perfectly fit the curves of your face, enhancing your natural beauty.
His thumb gently returned the gesture, rubbing against the base of your hand. A silent, gentle agreement.
Unspoken words and unanswered questions lingered but for now, you’d just enjoy the company of each other. As the date progressed, the night became darker and the restaurant slowly became lone.
After paying, you walked out of the said place and strolled through the sidewalk as you made your way to his car. In the middle of crossing a bridge, the moon’s light reflected on the water beneath you, a shine so bright that you had to stop by the railing and stare at the full moon. Leon's footsteps slowed to a stop as you paused to stare at the moon. He stood beside you, leaning against the railing, his gaze fixated on your face as you looked out at the reflection of the moon shimmering on the water below.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” You asked quietly as you kept your eyes on the moon, a soft breeze blowing by you two.
He glanced up for a moment, taking in the sight of the full moon in the inky black night sky, "It is," he agreed quietly. But as he looked back at you, he found himself thinking that there was a sight even more beautiful right in front of him.
You didn’t even notice his lingering gaze, eyes spoke so many volumes. It’s what makes humans vulnerable, the eyes never lie.
You stood there for what felt like an hour but really it was just a couple of minutes. Your skin chilled with goosebumps as the night breeze brushed over you, once again reprimanding yourself for being cold.
It was a pattern, huh? You being cold and him bringing you warmth. A balance between you. The irony didn't escape him. In any other circumstance, he would consider himself the colder one, and yet, standing beside you right now, in this moment, he could only think of you as the warm one.
He shrugged, then, without missing a beat, he gently draped his coat around your shoulders, the warmth from his body transferring to the fabric.
A smile plastered on your face as you felt the fabric with an all too familiar scent of his cologne. One that you didn’t even realize you had missed so much.
“Thank you for tonight,” you muttered softly, bringing his coat closer to your body, “It’s one of the best dates I’ve ever been on.”
He nodded his head in response, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips, "It was my pleasure," he replied, his tone genuine.
He paused for a moment, his gaze lingering on you once more, "And in all honesty," he continued, "I had a good time as well. I hope there'll be more nights like this soon."
You nodded and your smile widened, just the thought of seeing him again on a night like this made your insides flutter with joy and excitement. A candid and innocent feeling.
“Yes, I hope so too,” you muttered and stared up at him. It was just the two of you, standing under the moonlight as the sound of water splashed underneath you from below the bridge. Leon couldn't help but smile softly. Your expression was full of innocent excitement, your eyes sparkling in the moonlight.
The sound of water below you two and the soft sounds of the night's insects and the rustle of leaves echoed in the air around you, but all he could focus on was you. You, standing there with his coat draped around your shoulders. You, who, in that moment, seemed more beautiful than ever.
His heart skipped a beat in his chest, and he couldn't help but reach out and gently cup your cheek in his hand.
Your breath hitched, his touch was that of a soft caress. Of an artist admiring their piece of art that had been inspired by their muse. To which in this case, he was the artist and you were his muse.
The night ended perfectly. You had gone to his car to take you back home, although you didn’t really want to leave him just yet. The night felt young but you didn’t want to be selfish and greedy. The drive back to your apartment was quiet and peaceful. There wasn't an ounce of awkwardness, just the comfort of each other's presence. Even as Leon parked the car in front of your home, a part of him wished the night could have lasted just a little longer.
“This is it,” you whispered as you remained sitting in his car while he parked in front of your apartment. You didn’t want to say goodbye, what if you didn’t see him again?
He turned off the engine and turned to you, watching as you spoke the words neither of them wanted to say.
"I guess it is," he replied quietly, his thumb absentmindedly tracing circles against the steering wheel.
You took off his coat and gently placed it in the cupholder separating our seats. Then, you glanced at him. Goodbyes weren’t easy when you didn’t know if you’d see each other again.
A thought occurred to you, you rummaged through your purse and pulled out a small piece of napkin, which had your lipstick stain on it, along with a pen. You wrote your number on the piece of napkin and then handed it to him, but not before you stole a kiss on his cheek. Leon's breath caught in his throat as he felt the surprise kiss against his cheek, the heat of your lips sending a shiver down his spine.
“Call me soon,” you whispered as you stepped out of the car, rather anxiously and a bit hastily. He took the napkin, his gaze flickering to the numbers written on it. He held it in his hand, almost like a lifeline, watching as you stepped out of the car.
"I will," he called out, a hint of something in his voice, as if he was reluctant to let you leave, "I'll call you soon," he repeated, a promise, an assurance to you, and himself.
As soon as you entered your home and closed the door behind you, you let out a breath you had been holding in after kissing his cheek. It was bold for you and it probably caught him off guard but you didn’t regret it one bit.
You felt your heart quicken, now that he had your number, you can definitely keep seeing each other more often. All was not lost tonight.
Leon sat in his car for a moment longer, staring down at the napkin holding your number with your faded lipstick kiss next to it. His mind was racing, his heart still thudding against his chest.
Your kiss was bold, unexpected, yet it sent a spark through him that he hadn't felt in so long. It was like a promise, a declaration that something had shifted.
He folded the napkin and put it in his pocket, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He started his car, heading back home with one thing in his mind. Soon, he'll call you. Soon.
-
For a couple weeks, you’ve gone out on more dates. Dinner dates, walks along the beach, even taking you to a carnival. He was always such a gentleman; holding the door open, carrying you in his arms bridal style if your feet ached from your heels, always stubbornly paying for your food.
And you had no say in anything, he was assertive but gentle. As if he only wanted to take care of you and not make you work or move a muscle. You didn’t mind, of course, but you always made sure to offer to pay for dates (even if it made him reprimand you).
For the first time in my life, you felt happy. Genuinely happy. He was everything, the only reason you woke up all happy was because of him. You were no longer your old self, he converted you into this happier version that you didn’t know you could be.
“Eyes locked on the target, Sir.”
“Good, go on right ahead, bring the captive alive.”
The worst thing imaginable had happened. A man broke into your house, the window crashed and you left your room to investigate.
When you made it to your living room, a figure from behind you suddenly pressed a piece of cloth right under your nose, forcing you to inhale whatever was on that.
Your vision blurred and you slowly felt your body become weak and disoriented. The man kept his grip around your arm tightly, preventing you from moving. When you had finally passed out, he gently laid you down on the floor to communicate with another person.
“Target acquired, returning back to base,” the man said before he picked up your body and threw it over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
-
Leon was slowly falling hard for you. Seeing you happy, laughing, smiling was becoming an addiction for him. Every passing day that he spent with you, he found himself getting more and more attached.
He would do anything for you, pay for everything, pamper you, as long as you were happy and content. Seeing you smile because of him, brought him more joy than anything in the world.
He was falling in love, even if he didn’t quite realize it yet. His heart belonged to you now, whether he admitted it or not.
“Boss,” the voice of a man rang out in Leon’s office. As he had gone on dates with you, he didn’t neglect his duties as the mafia lord.
“Kyle was found dead in the casino. The arms case was missing as well,” he said to Leon. But it wasn’t just a random death. No, it was the act of an enemy mafia group just from the other side of the city. One that had many times tried to assassinate Leon and take over his empire.
Leon's expression darkened as he listened to his underling's report. The news of Kyle's death and the missing arms case was nothing but a nuisance, but the fact that his enemy mafia was behind this bothered him even more.
"Damn it," he muttered, his fists clenching at his sides, “Those bastards are getting bold."
He pushed himself up from his chair, his gaze hardening as he listened to his underling, "Any leads?"
The man shook his head, “No, sir. The body was missing so we couldn’t find the cause of death. But we found a card with the initials of Santo 'The Suit' De Lucchi.”
Santo ‘The Suit’ De Lucchi was a long time enemy of Leon. He was the man that had been targeting Leon ever since he became a Mafia boss. Santo was given the nickname ‘The Suit’ because he always played a tricky game.
He was obsessed with card decks, often always leaving behind a suit card on a bloody crime scene after murdering his own enemies. He’d leave the four types of cards behind depending on the message he tried to convey. This time, he had left an 8 of Spades card, meaning that he had a powerful group of men at the ready.
Leon's jaw tensed at the mention of the name. Santo 'The Suit' De Lucchi. He knew that name all too well, and it was never for a good reason.
The mention of the 8 of Spades card made his eyes narrow. It was a warning, a declaration of war. And it was personal.
"How nice of The Suit to leave a calling card," Leon said, his voice laced with anger. "He really wants my attention, doesn't he?"
“What do you want us to do, boss?” The underling asked Leon. War between mafias wasn't uncommon. Almost everyday, there were news of men found dead in the streets from crime and mafia activities. But to prevent panic among the citizens, the police simply said they were civilian disputes. Nothing more. Nothing less.
Leon paused for a moment, his mind racing with thoughts and plans.
"I want you to gather more information about his men, his operations, his every move," Leon ordered, his voice sharp and commanding, "But more importantly, I want to know why he's making a move now. This isn't just some petty feud, it's a message."
Leon's eyes narrowed as he thought, "He's playing a game, and I need to be ten steps ahead if I want to win it."
“On it, boss,” the underling then left Leon’s office, leaving him alone to think to himself.
It was suspicious how The Suit made a move now after years of feuding with Leon. What changed? Who was their next target? The Suit wasn’t going to stop there, no, he won’t. It would only be a matter of time before he went after something Leon cared so deeply about.
As the door closed behind his underling, Leon let out a sigh, leaning back in his chair.
He knew The Suit’s next move wouldn’t be a direct attack at him, no, that was too risky for someone like The Suit. He’d want to hit Leon where it hurt the most.
Leon’s thoughts immediately turned to you. His chest tightened at the idea of you being hurt, being targeted somehow. He had to make sure you were safe. Protected.
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heyy hope you’re gonna take this request, can you write something about canon kuroo confessing?
No time skip please. Like with a female reader which doesn’t act in love with him like the rest of the girls, she’s not pick me or stuff like this.
So Kuroo can do nothing but finally talk to her because he can’t stand the fact that she’s different from other girls.
I can’t really picture canon Kuroo confessing, that’s why I’m asking, I really like your writing!
Thank u so much
Notice me Please!!!
Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader
— Summary: He has his eyes on you, but for some reason you don't look back.
— Tags/Genre: Fem!Reader | Fluff
— Warnings: None!
Kuroo drums his fingers impatiently on his desk, and with one hand resting on his chin, he stares at your figure across the classroom. You seemed quite entertained listening to music, which he has no idea what it is, but that sight makes him feel something inside him.
Frustration. He admit that he can't stand seeing you like this, because you're never like that when he tries to talk to you, and that made him feel a kind of jealousy, even if it was for something inanimate.
Every time you talked to him, you seemed indifferent, almost as if you were uninterested. Damn, why don't you look at him with the same twinkle in your eye when you're listening to something on your stupid headphones?
It's been a while since Kuroo started to have strong feelings for you, your heart skips a beat every time you pass each other in the school hallways, with Kuroo always looking back when you pass by him. But he never revealed that to you of course.
And no matter how many bad jokes or flirtations he told you, how many little gifts he left in your locker or on your desk in secret and then hinted that he was the one who left them there, it seemed like you never cared about his desperate actions for your attention.
At first, he thought this was just the way you acted, that you were more shy and reserved. But then he noticed the giggles you had with your friends, how talkative you seemed to be around them.
Now he thinks the problem is with him, that maybe you hate his presence, or just don't care about him.
He is a relatively popular person at school. His volleyball team reached the Nationals, which gave great prominence to all the team members, especially him. So it's no surprise to hear girls gossiping about Kuroo in the hallways.
To tell the truth, he didn't care much about it, sometimes he would even tease Yaku for having more fans than him, but that was it.
The only person he craves attention from is you.
But he doesn't know if you feel the same way, or at least care about his existence.
So that's why today would be the day he would bring the whole truth to light. His only option now would be to confess to you. Maybe it was a last choice made out of desperation and doubt, but he can no longer bear your indifference towards him.
Your club activities are over, so you can finally go home after a tiring day of boring classes and uninteresting people.
Now, you were walking towards the school exit, but you soon stopped when you saw a certain boy with a peculiar hairstyle standing at the gate, almost as if he was waiting for someone.
You figured he was waiting for Kenma to go home since they were best friends, so you didn't care much about it and continued walking to the exit.
"Hey, [Name]!"
A familiar voice calls you. And as you turn to the side, you see Kuroo walking towards you, waving at you.
"Let's go home together, shall we?" you look around, and then you look at him again, raising an eyebrow. "Aren't you going with Kenma?" "He said he needed to go somewhere else to buy a new game, something like that. And since I'm alone... I thought about going with you."
He gives you a smile that would make anyone fall in love immediately, but it never seemed to have any effect on you.
You looked at him with an enigmatic expression, almost as if you want to read him through his actions and words. "Um, sure." You say as you adjust your backpack hanging on your shoulder, soon starting to walk, with Kuroo by your side.
Your house wasn't that far from the school, but in the situation you were in, it felt like an eternity had passed since you left the school gates and started walking.
Neither of you exchanged a single word, except for Kuroo who was humming some random song.
"Y'know..." he says after a moment, which made you direct your gaze to him, who was still staring at the path ahead.
"I once heard you listening to this song. You turn your music up so loud that anyone who passes by can hear it coming from your headphones." your expression changes to one of surprise.
"S-Seriously? I never realized that..." you laugh awkwardly, looking away to the floor.
"Yeah... but it's not because of music or headphones that I called you to walk with me." Kuroo stops walking unexpectedly, making you stop too.
Looking back, you notice his expression is more serious, almost as if he is a little nervous.
"Actually, there's something I wanted to talk to you."
His tone of voice seemed to have changed too, which left you confused, or even a little nervous, as much as you didn't want to admit it.
"I...like you, [Name]." As he uttered these words, it was almost as if a weight had been lifted from the boy's shoulders, his previously tense posture allowing himself the luxury of relaxing, even if for a brief moment.
However, the opposite seemed to manifest in you. Previously unconcerned about what this simple walk would offer you, it was almost as if your breath was suddenly caught in your throat. Your heart soon feels like it's leaving your body, hammering in your chest in a fast, nervous rhythm.
"Huh?" you say in disbelief at what you heard. Shock quickly turns to annoyance, his eyebrows furrowing in disbelief. "Look... don't think this kind of joke is funny, because you won't hear me laugh about it."
"Joke? Why would you think that?" Kuroo says this right after with a nasal laugh.
He walks closer to you, and you instinctively step back, until your back is in contact with a large tree that was close to the sidewalk. He stops right in front of you, and looks at you with a touch of doubt, almost as if he had heard something incredible.
"Why do you think I would make fun of something like that? You- my feelings for you... would never be a joke to me." he says with an affectionate tone, his eyes softening for a moment as he maintains eye contact with you.
"Maybe this could have been just a challenge your friends arranged for you, like in those cliché movies." your tone conveys sarcasm, but with a touch of bitterness "Or maybe some pretty girl rejected you, and is now looking for solace in anyone even remotely close to you..." "Or even-"
Your words are cut off as you feel Kuroo's lips land tenderly on your cheek. His hand reaches out to cup the other side of your face, and the other lands on the tree behind you, pinning you there.
"I like you, [Name]." he whispers in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "And I will tell you this until you can't prove otherwise."
Kuroo takes his hand off the tree and takes your hand, then looks at you seriously. "And I mean it."
You feel your cheeks heat up, but you quickly compose yourself, and a small smile appears on your face, but this time it's genuine.
"Hmm, so you want to win me over, huh?" you push yourself away from the tree, placing your free hand on his shoulder. Your sudden closeness makes Kuroo surprised, making him suddenly feel shy.
"Only words won't convince me... you better work hard for it, Tetsurou." you move away from him, and start opening your backpack, looking for your headphones.
You give a small wave to Kuroo, but without turning towards him, focusing only on the path in front of you.
Dumbfounded, Kuroo waves back, his cheeks dyed with pink in embarrassment.
"Thank you for accompanying me, but I can go on my own from here." You say as you fit your headphones onto your head, putting on a random playlist that you made in honor of your little crush, who is definitely not Kuroo Tetsurou (it is).
— A/N: Uh........hi........I'm back.............
First of all, I want to apologize a thousand times to whoever sent me this request, I'm really sorry it took me SO LONG to post this. In addition to apologizing to everyone who follows me here, for not having given any sign of life for more than a month....😭
I really don't have a real excuse for doing this other than a total of 0 creativity and several hours of my life in hell (school), so I really needed to take this time for myself, until I felt more comfortable coming back here again.
I'm currently feeling quite creative artistically, mainly because I'm watching MHA again (which I'll probably bring here on my page) and also because I'm reading the Haikyuu manga. Plus, I passed pretty much every subject at school, so I don't have to worry so much about grades.
So...I'm officially back now!! I apologize again, and in compensation for this, I am already writing 3 more new things for you (2 are from MHA😜😜🤪); and I also won't open requests until I finish writing these, so stay tuned!!
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The one where Matty reads smut to you
I don't know what to call this but it was fun to write! Shout out Matty reading part of 50 Shades of Grey in like 2015
Fem! Reader
Contains: dom! Matty, him making fun of her shitty romance novel, Matty reading smut to her, recreation of book scene, fingering in front of a mirror, blink and you miss it pussy spanking, praise (good girl)
WC: ~2.8k
—-------------------------------
Matty discovers his girlfriend’s secret reading habits and can’t resist recreating one of the scenes.
—-------------------------------
You can feel Matty’s eyes on you without even having to look up from the pages in your hands. A smile twitches at your lips. It’s like a little game, pretending you can’t feel his gaze drinking you in, admiring the way the sunlight streams through the window. The way the light graces you, bathing your skin in glowing warmth. For a man who prides himself on his talent with words, he finds himself speechless. He doesn’t mind it one bit.
You’d been immersed in your book for hours. Admittedly, it’s not high-brow reading in the slightest. But when life is so serious, sometimes a shitty, steamy romance novel is exactly the remedy you need. Sometimes, you like to disappear into the dynamics of someone else’s life where things are simple and clean-cut. Predictable.
Unhurried, Matty pushes his weight off of the doorframe, padding across the floor to you as you lay on the couch, your book comfortably resting in your lap. He leans down, his necklace dangling in front of your face as he brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear. Your eyes flicker away from the pages when you feel his lips press to your forehead with such tenderness that your heart swoons. You listen to his soft hum as you reach up to cup his face, your fingers naturally finding their place against his jaw.
“Hi, baby. What have you got there?” he says softly, trailing a hand down your arm absentmindedly.
“Just a silly romance book,” you answer, marking your page before handing him the book.
He takes it from you, motioning for you to scoot over on the sofa to make room for him. Curled up at your side, Matty runs his finger down the spine of the book, observing the cover with a squinted, analytical stare. You already know he’s going to have plenty of opinions just from the art on the front alone.
“You’re not gonna like it. I’m sorry, it’s not philosophical, foreign literature,” you joke, causing him to scoff.
“Oh god. Don’t start with me, miss,” he murmurs, his eyes flickering over the title, “Well, I certainly don’t read about kissing and stuff but I’m not above trashy reading sometimes. I suppose I always thought these books were for grandmothers and like, desperate housewives.”
“They’re not just for grandmas and housewives!”
“Alright, alright. Forgive me,” Matty chuckles, kissing your shoulder apologetically, “What’s this one about then?”
You give him a look. An untrusting one. Matty looks at you right back, cocking an eyebrow.
“You’re gonna laugh at me.”
“No, I won’t. I swear. Tell me.”
Sighing, you watch as he cracks open the book, beginning to leaf through the pages, smirking to himself as he scans over words with eager eyes. He nudges you with his elbow expectantly, waiting for a synopsis of the story that feels increasingly dumber and more cliche the more you think about how to explain it. But, damn it, you’re allowed to read something silly and romantic in your free time if you want!
"She's a princess and he's the knight bound to protect her. He's kind of roguish, and she's never really experienced anything, she's bound to the castle most of the time but she’s still a badass. They fall in love even though they know they can't,” you mutter, watching his smirk grow wider, clearly amused.
“Ah, I see. Classic, cheesy, forbidden romance shit,” he nods, glancing over at you with a glint in his eyes (one that means he’s about to say something stupid). “Is the knight hot? Does he have a big sword?”
“Yeah. Huge,” you snort, making Matty cackle in response, flipping through random pages, only making you feel more on edge. You should survive this as long as he doesn’t come across a few particular parts…
He scans over a passage, his brows furrowing slightly as he goes, seeming thoroughly unimpressed by the author. You listen as he mutters the words to himself under his breath, practically being able to see how he’s mentally tearing it to shreds as his eyes catch over the sappy dialogue and paragraphs of woeful yearning.
“Christ. How many times is she going to use the word ‘longing’? This is… terrible.”
“Would you stop being a critic for once? It’s sweet,” you protest, finding the pining endearing. You’ve always been a slow-burn lover at heart.
Matty groans, yet he continues to read on, underwhelmed but curiously hooked at the same time. Just as you’d begun to lay your head on his chest to relax, he lets out a laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners with mirth.
“Oh, he’s not just protecting her, he’s ‘trailing his calloused hands down her curves, his hands rough from years of wielding his sword’,” he reads before making an exaggerated moan, fanning himself with his hand dramatically.
You feel your stomach drop. You know exactly what chapter he’s reading from and it only gets more indecent from there. You pick your head up, feeling heat rise to your cheeks as, to your horror, he begins to read directly from the pages.
“‘Her breasts heaved as he unhooked her corset, his rough hands against her pale skin as he lays her on the silken sheets’. Wow, I take it all back, this is better than I thought, you didn’t say they fuck.”
You sputter, realizing you should have known better than to let him get his hands on your novel. You’re never going to hear the end of this now. God help you, the look on his face is absolutely wicked.
"But it's not just physical between them! He loves her more than anything and wants to show her what she’s been deprived of,” you shake your head, trying to snatch the book back to no avail, “You don’t get it, it’s for the girls, Matty.”
Matty rolls his eyes, chuckling at the heated scene that is unfolding on the pages before him, holding the book out of your reach. “Sweetheart, you can defend it however you want, this is absolutely filthy. You’re sitting here, casually reading pornography. Doesn’t matter if it’s ‘girly’.”
He leafs through the pages with the intent to get you thoroughly worked up, jabbing his finger at the page when he finds a particularly lewd section. He’s having far too much fun with this and he knows it.
“I mean, seriously, listen to this part. ‘His stare was piercing through her as he let her feel the stiffness of his pulsing member.’ Babe,” he chuckles in disbelief, “Horrid word choice there, so unsexy. I mean, just say dick.”
“Matty! Are you seriously doing this right now? Give it back,” you protest with heated cheeks, trying to reach for the novel just for Matty to hold it further away from you.
“No, no. We’re just getting to the good parts now, lemme see,” he grins wolfishly, curling up closer to you so his lips are brushing against your ear, “‘Maneuvering her to sit in front of the tall, gilded mirror, the knight slips her silk nightgown over her waist. With his fingers on her delicate jaw, guiding her gaze forward, he lets his opposite hand smooth down her body…’”
You can feel the air between you change as the detailed, obscene words begin to slip from his lips with ease. He has one hand holding the book while the other slides over your waist, stirring warmth inside of you as he gently moves his fingers back and forth. His tone has dropped down to a low, sultry murmur, a shiver racing down your spine at the slight rasp in your ear, the hairs standing up at the back of your neck. The tips of your ears burn every time he emphasizes dirtier words, rubbing little circles against your hip as he drawls to you about how the knight is tearing off her panties. The chapter is salacious enough as is, but the way he reads it to you makes it feel downright foul.
“... ‘She could feel an unfamiliar pressure building inside of her as he slowly curled his calloused finger upward, his thumb rubbing in tight circles against her heat, staring at her through the mirror’s reflection’,” Matty whispers, his breath hot, fanning against your skin.
He’s having a harder time focusing on the words when he can feel you getting increasingly warmer as you cling to his side, the heat radiating off of your skin from beneath your clothes. He doesn’t miss the way your hips squirm slightly, the crackling tension thickening the air between you as he reads. Matty can’t help but glance at you periodically, the unmistakable lust in your lidded eyes making him ache.
You can’t take it any longer, it feels like your entire body is buzzing with need, warmth coursing through you endlessly, pooling deep inside of you. You cut him off mid-word by turning your head and pressing your lips to his heatedly. Matty moans into your mouth, letting the book tumble to the floor as he moves to roughly grasp your hips with both hands, pulling you flush against his frame.
“Dirty girl,” he mumbles against your lips, kissing you with enough fervor to make your head spin.
Your hands cling to his shirt, letting his tongue slip past your lips as his eager fingers roam, groping and feeling you as he pleases. Your breath shudders as Matty pulls away to mouth under your jawline, alternating between heated kisses and nips of his teeth.
“Does it get you hot when you’re reading it, babe? Thinking about the knight fucking his princess?” he rasps, grabbing a handful of your ass.
You can only whimper in response, your head tilting back to give Matty more room to continue his loving assault on your neck, kissing and sucking at your sensitive skin.
“Yeah, I bet it does,” he mumbles, laving his tongue over a faded love bite just above your collarbones.
Matty slides his hands to the backs of your thighs, scooping you up with your legs around his waist. As he carries you from the couch to your bedroom, you can’t resist grinding a little against the front of his gray sweatpants, feeling him twitch beneath the fabric. He digs his fingers into your hips, you’re not quite sure if it’s as a warning or to encourage you. You love it either way.
Just as you think he’s about to lay you down on the crisp sheets of your bed, Matty lowers you to the ground in front of your floor-length mirror, pulling you to sit in his lap with your legs spread, just like in the book. He taps your thigh, signaling for you to lift your hips, allowing him to slide off your pajama shorts.
With an approving sigh, Matty smooths his hands out over your inner thighs, making a shiver skitter down your spine with tingling warmth. He coos, settling his chin on top of your shoulder as he stares at your body through the mirror.
“Aw, you really liked me reading to you, baby. Look at yourself. You’re soaked through,” he admires, parting your legs wider to allow you a look at your dampened panties.
Matty skims his hand up your thigh with a murmur of “don’t look away” as he starts to feel over the darkened fabric of your underwear. You shudder, your lashes fluttering at the sensations that begin to stir at just the light brush of his calloused fingertips. You can feel your cheeks flush brighter at this new perspective, watching the two of you in the reflection of the mirror, seeing not only Matty’s reactions but also your own. You get to see the expressions that Matty loves so dearly when he’s making you fall apart, telling you how pretty you are. You do look pretty like this, with your skin flushed and your chest heaving with desire.
Agonizingly slowly, he presses two fingers against your panties, rubbing in little circles over your clit just to make you squirm in his lap. Matty kisses from the top of your shoulder to right under your ear, his breath hot as he watches you from the corner of his eye. His eyes are intense, darkened with urges.
Steadily, he hooks his fingers under the fabric, sliding the soaked material to the side with a groan that rumbles against your back. A gasp is ripped from your lips as he parts you with his fingers, exposing you to him with frustratingly gentle pressure. You can tell he’s restraining himself tonight. Even though he’s itching to have you writhing, he slowly dips his thumb into your pooling arousal, his digit slick as he finds your clit with practiced ease.
Your eyes roll at that feeling of first contact, sensations coursing through you as you get your first lick of relief. Matty traces firm circles, his other hand moving to grasp your breast, thumbing at your nipple over your shirt.
“Matty, faster, please,” you pant, your voice wavering with need.
“Shh, this is how it went in the book, hm? He was so gentle with her, isn’t that right?” he mutters, dismissing the way your hips jump, aching for friction. You can’t stand it. He’d whined about how awful your book was, but now he’s treating it like gospel, refusing to stray from how the scene was written.
Once he’s satisfied with how long he’s been lazily circling your clit, Matty picks up the pace just enough to make you whimper, still in control of your pleasure. His brows pinch together as your hips rock heedlessly on top of him, both of your eyes glued to his hand between your thighs. You can feel him, stiff and twitching beneath his sweats as the heat continues to bloom between you. Slowly, he starts to sink one finger inside of you, curling it just so. It’s obscene to watch.
“That’s it. Show me how much you like it,” Matty whispers, dragging his lower lip along your earlobe, “What does he do next?”
“What?” you mumble, too caught up in the feeling of your brain melting down your spine to understand the question. Matty smirks with the satisfaction of rendering you wonderfully dumb.
“In the book, darling. What does he do to her next?” he finishes, landing a firm spank on your cunt, relishing in your cry, “You didn’t let me finish readin’ ‘cause you got impatient, didn’t you, sweet girl? Always just gagging for me.”
You try and gather yourself enough to speak as Matty presses on your clit, your head lolling back against his shoulder. He moves his hand from your tits to your inner thigh, holding open your trembling legs in his secure hold.
“C’mon, talk to me,” he says with a kiss to your neck, encouragingly rubbing his thumb against your soft thigh, “I know you remember.”
“He… he has her look into her own eyes as he makes her cum.”
Matty whistles lowly, impressed, sounding like he’s sorry he didn’t think of doing that to you first. He reaches for your chin, grasping it to tilt your head down, watching you meet your own stare in the mirror.
“Good girl, stay like that for me,” he murmurs, keeping his fingers splayed across your jaw.
You watch as your eyes widen the moment Matty begins to swiftly move his thumb, pumping his finger in and out of you. Your brows furrow with a shuddering moan, your mouth dropping open. You grasp his wrist with urgency, feeling yourself approach the edge almost mortifyingly quickly as you pant and writhe on top of him.
“See how pretty you look when you’re about to cum? I fucking love that look. I live for it,” he grins, “That’s it, just let it happen, my love.”
He tightens his hold on your jaw, reminding you to watch your face as you feel it wash over you in waves of relief through your whole body, your expression contorting with pleasure.
“Ah, fuck!” you cry, listening to him mutter breathy sighs of “Good fucking girl” and “Yeah, that’s right” in your ear.
Once you go slack against his body, Matty withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his lips to suck them clean, obscenely sliding his tongue between them while you catch your breath.
“I reckon I did it better than him, what do you think?” he smirks, his voice muffled around his digits. You shake your head hazily as he lets go of them with a wet popping sound.
“You’re insufferable…”
“You love me. You looove me so badly,” he sings, grasping your sides lovingly as he presses his lips to your cheek.
You do love him. Badly. Even if you’re never going to hear the end of how terrible your book choices are.
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