Iwaoi one shots

Russian Roulette (mafia)

I read other Iwaoi stories and I really don't know if I'm spelling Tooru right.....I keep seeing Toru which is his name and now I feel so stupid butttt Im not changing how I spell it :)

Warning: Guns, kidnapping, abused Iwaizumi, homophobic slurs, swearing, older Oikawa but Iwaizumi is 18 so not under age.

"So Mr Iwaizumi, I'm gonna ask you again. Where. Is. My. MONEY!" Oikawa growled as he crushed his long lasting cigar underneath his black, toe-capped oxford's, the ash bursting from underneath the shoe.

Struggling desperately, the middle aged man, squished against the iced marble floor, whimpered as the ash was too close to his face for comfort.

"I told y-you....I don't have it. I spent it! I c-can make it back...just give me a month." Grubby hands gripped at the hem of Tooru's midnight black Gucci pants in plea. The brunette shook the hands off, pulling a disgusted face at the man, before snapping his slender fingers.

Oh please, he only stole the wad yesterday, there's no way he spent it.

His right hand man, Matsukawa, released his hold on the dead-beat, walking round his shaking body.

A loud crunch sounded the room.

The horrifying scream that came after didn't phase the men in black. After all this was their job. Mattsun resumed his restraint on the elder.

After lighting up another cigar, the mob boss crouched down in front of the whimpering man, no sympathy shown anywhere on his face.

"Touch me again and it'll be more than just your fingers..." He inhaled a great deal of smoke as he thought. "How about your son?" Sunken eyes snapped towards the younger, an unreadable emotion swirling around in the darkness of them.

"No sir, please! Leave him out of this!" The alcoholic screamed, struggling harder to get from the vice grip of Mattsun. Tooru's pale hand gripped at his captor's chin, watching in amusement as the other's tremors tripled. Taking another drag from his cigar, Oikawa's face neared the man's, adrenaline rushing through his veins as he enjoyed the fear radiating in waves from his highest debt owner.

The Boss blew his long held smoke into the bastard's pried open mouth, snickering and releasing the man as he choked.

Oikawa stood with a sigh, tipping ash onto the hacking prick, held against the floor.

"For someone so hell bent on abusing your son, you sure do wanna save him from me." A chuckle escaped the brunette when he watched the writhing man still.

"Bring him in." Oikawa muttered, throwing his barely used cigar across the room, still watching the bastard with a sinister smirk. His messy haired friend nodded as he made a signal towards a one way mirror behind him.

The door to the small room creaked open, chains rattled and in came another guard with pink hair, cold features and a smaller stature. Behind him was a teenager, raven locks like the man in front of him and tear marks leaving clear streaks down his bloodied face.

Tooru's smirk faltered slightly as he saw the blossoms of painful colours littering the trembling boy's gorgeous tanned skin.

He was slowly led across the room by the chain in the hands of the black clad pinkette. Oikawa's anger grew towards his captor, as the boy's inflicted injuries became more prominent the closer he got. Then the broken boy was left to the brunette's demand and chain handed over.

"P-please don't do this..." the older Iwaizumi coughed as Matsukawa's foot pushed against his back, evidently squashing his ribs against the hard floor.