#mafia!Bokuto Koutarou

[xlettex]

Deception || tetsurou kuroo Yakuza AU - Chapter Three

From the moment you looked into his eyes, you knew—he was nothing but trouble. Everyone warned you. Stay away from him. Don’t get involved. But you never listened. Tetsurou Kuroo, better known as Kurai, is the infamous yakuza boss of Japan. Just mentioning his name is enough to send shivers down spines and silence conversations in dimly lit alleyways. He is a force of nature—deceitful, ruthless, and dangerously unpredictable. A man who bends the world to his will, leaving chaos in his wake. And yet, to you… he is irresistible. You crave him — his touch, his warmth, the way he sets your skin on fire with just a glance. He makes you feel invincible like you can take on the world. But loving him is a double-edged sword. Because just as he lifts you up, he destroys you.

pairing - tetsurou kuroo x reader genre - action romance, crime romance, dark romance, erotica/smut rating - 18+ MINORS DNI chapter word count - 7.6k content warning - violence, drugs and alcohol, illegal activities, sexual content, and angst. see each chapter for specific warnings.

Authors Note - This fanfic is inspired by the amazing fanart of the tetsurou kuroo mafia au (found image on pinterest, help me find the artist - I want to credit them). Disclaimer- This is a work of fiction, I do not condone the act of illegal activities, violence, or romanticization of the yakuza. Read at your own risk.

chapter two <- chapter three -> chapter four

✯ chapter-specific warnings -violence, references to drugs, alcohol, illegal activity, depression, mention of suicide, anxiety, death, grief ✯

You step onto the street, the morning air crisp, biting at your exposed skin. The streets hum with life—children rushing past you, eager to make it to school, adults briskly moving along the sidewalks, and the faint smell of fresh bread drifting from an open café door. You feel out of place. The vibrant normalcy of the world around you is a stark contrast to the turbulence occupying your mind. You shiver, but not from the cold. The weight of uncertainty clings to you, wrapping you in a quiet, suffocating embrace.

A few weeks have passed since you patched up Tetsurou, his cryptic words and that unnerving smirk continue to haunt you. You haven’t seen him since, but his gaze lingers in your thoughts, like a shadow that follows you wherever you go. Every time your mind wanders, his voice echoes—“I owe you”—and each time, a knot tightens in your chest.

What does owing me even entail? The question swirls around you, relentlessly, as you try to make sense of it all. But every answer you come up with only leads to more confusion.

You barely knew the man. Yes, you helped him in the alley, but surely that wasn’t enough to warrant a debt—especially one that seemed so… personal. It wasn’t some grand gesture; it was instinct, a basic sense of morality. You weren’t the kind of person to leave a bleeding man to die in the street.

The hospital was already buzzing with activity when you arrived. The sharp scent of antiseptic clung to the air, mixing with the faint aroma of fresh coffee from the nurses’ station. The steady beeping of monitors hummed in the background as you weaved through the crowded hallway, nodding at a few coworkers who looked just as exhausted as you felt. Everything about this place was routine. It should have brought comfort, but the thought of Tetsurou lingered, ever-present, like a slow-burning fuse you couldn’t quite extinguish. You tried to push it aside by immersing yourself in the busy chaos of the hospital.

“You’re late.”

You blinked, pulled from your thoughts as Shirabu glanced up at you over the top of his clipboard.

“Only by two minutes,” you said, offering a sheepish smile as you grabbed your scrub cap from your locker.

“Two minutes could be the difference between life or death in surgery,” he said, his voice carrying a touch of authority, though there was no real malice behind it. “You’re assisting with my laparoscopic cholecystectomy. Get scrubbed in.”

“Yes, sir.”

The mechanical motions of getting ready for surgery are second nature by now. The sterile environment, the use of medical jargon—it’s familiar and comforting. You tried your best to only focus on work and for a moment, you almost forgot about what was plaguing your mind. Almost.

Then, during a lull between procedures, your phone buzzed in your pocket, pulling you out of your thoughts. You glanced at the screen.

PAST DUE NOTICE: FINAL WARNING.

Your stomach dropped. You barely dared to open the message, but you already knew. Rent was overdue—again. You had a week, maybe less, before your landlord took action. And with the hospital cutting overtime hours, there was no easy way to fix this.

Your grip tightened around your phone, a sinking dread coiling in your stomach. You took a sharp breath, pushing the screen aside just as Koushi’s name flashed across the display.

You hesitated before answering, trying to push past the uneasy feeling gnawing at you. “Hey,” you said, trying to sound casual. “What’s up?”

“Are you okay?” Koushi’s voice came through, filled with concern and a touch of frustration, stark against the quiet hum of the hospital. “I haven’t heard from you in a while. You’ve been on my mind, especially since.....” He lets out a breath,  “I just want to make sure you’re alright.”

The warmth in his voice should have been comforting, but it only made you feel more torn. You weren’t sure how to explain that you weren’t fine—so many emotions clouded your thoughts, so many things left unsaid. The weight of the chance encounter with Tetsurou was starting to feel heavier by the day.

“I’m fine,” you said a little too quickly, pushing the words out with a forced cheer. “Just been busy with work, you know how it is.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, the silence thick with Koushi’s concern. You could almost hear him debating whether to press further. When he finally spoke again, his voice was softer. “You don’t sound fine. You’ve barely responded to my texts and ignored all my calls. I’m surprised you answered this one. I just... I’m worried, okay? Since what happened a few weeks ago, you’ve been distant.”

You let out a long sigh, leaning back against the counter in the break room as you ran a hand through your hair. Koushi’s worry felt like a heavy blanket, smothering you with its warmth. He was right. You hadn’t been yourself. But how could you explain the unease gnawing at your insides? How could you explain the growing dread that's taken root in your chest?

“I’m fine, Koushi. Really,” you say, your voice faltering despite your best efforts. “Just... work has been hectic. That’s all.”

Another long silence. You can hear Koushi breathing on the other end, his concern palpable, like a soft weight pressing down on your chest. “I get it,” he says, finally, a hint of resignation in his voice. “But you can’t keep ignoring everything that happened. You can’t just push me away. I’m your best friend. I’m here, alright?”

You close your eyes for a moment, pressing your palm to your forehead as if it could ease the weight of his words. He’s right, you know he is. Koushi always knows when you’re hiding behind a mask, pretending everything is fine.

You let out a breath, feeling the familiar weight of your past settle over you like a shadow. You’d never fully allowed yourself to belong to the Sugawara family. They’d taken you in when you had nothing, and given you warmth and comfort when you needed it most, but they could never replace what you’d lost. A small, guarded part of you kept its distance, remembering that people could be taken from you in an instant. Loss had always been a silent companion, one you couldn’t shake no matter how many people surrounded you.

"I... I know," you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them. "But sometimes it’s easier not to feel too much. It doesn’t hurt as much that way."

Koushi’s sigh on the other end was filled with a deep, tired understanding, “Listen, I was thinking we could meet for dinner tonight, my treat. It’s been a while since the two of us hung out properly. Maybe a change of scenery will help clear your head.”

Dinner with Koushi sounds exactly like what you need. You hesitate, staring at the phone in your hand as if it holds the answers you’re searching for. Part of you wants to say no, to remain in this space where no one can reach you, but the other part aches for a sense of normalcy you haven't felt in weeks. The quiet comfort Koushi offers feels like a lifeline you desperately need.

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” you said, more to reassure him than anything. “Let’s do it.”

A sound of relief filtered through the phone, and you could almost picture Koushi’s smile on the other end. “Good. I’ll text you the details,” he said. “Just... take care of yourself, okay?”

You smiled softly, though he couldn’t see. “I will, I promise.”

You ended the call and tucked your phone back into your pocket, forcing yourself to focus on the next surgery. But even as you suited up for the next procedure, The dinner invite with Koushi lingered in your mind. The thought of a quiet dinner and some normalcy beckoned like a distant shore, a place you weren’t sure you were ready to reach but knew you desperately needed to.

At the same time, far above the streets of Tokyo, in a sleek penthouse bathed in the warm glow of the midday sun, Kuroo sat at the head of a polished, modern table. The expansive view of the city sprawled beneath him, a chaotic maze of buildings and bustling streets, mirroring his volatile life. Papers were scattered before him, but his focus was distant, his thoughts miles away. His fingers swirled the glass of whiskey, the amber liquid catching the light, but the real matter gnawing at his mind had little to do with business.

He can’t stop thinking about you.

Weeks had passed, and you still lingered in the recesses of his mind, an echo that refused to fade. Your quiet concern, the hesitation in your eyes when you helped him—it all replayed in his head like a song stuck on repeat. But it wasn’t just your actions that haunted him. It was your face—your eyes, soft and uncertain, yet sharp with something he couldn’t quite place. The way your hair fell, it was messy but somehow still perfect. The way you looked at him as if you saw something more, something deeper. He should have let it go by now. It should have meant nothing. 

But here he was —wondering what it was that made you so different.

A part of him itched to repay you, to settle the unspoken debt that lingered between the two of you. Yet, another part—the one that knew better—was reluctant to. Once he started paying that debt, your life would be intertwined with his. And being involved with someone like you? That was a danger he couldn’t afford to entertain.

The soft click of the door broke his reverie, and Kuroo looked up to find Kenma entering, his expression flat, unreadable. As always, Kenma knew. Kuroo didn’t have to say a word—his friend was sharp enough to see through the mask he wore.

“You’re still thinking about her,” Kenma said, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife.

Kuroo’s eyes flicked to Kenma, a sharp, almost predatory glint flashing in his gaze. He leaned back in his chair, his tone low, tinged with frustration. “It’s not that simple,” he muttered, trying to push the thought of you away. 

Kenma didn’t comment, but the look he gave was enough to say he wasn’t buying it.

Kuroo dragged a hand through his hair, ignoring the faint pull of his stitches. His mind shifted gears, locking onto something else gnawing at him. His eyes fell on the papers he’d been neglecting while he recovered. “Daishou’s attack... it was too messy, too risky. That’s just not his style. He frowned, his grip tightening around the glass. “This isn’t just a turf dispute. There’s more going on here.”

Kenma leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “A drug deal gone wrong?” he mused, his voice calm, calculating.

Kuroo shook his head. “No. If it were, he wouldn’t have played it this way. I have a feeling this isn’t about the usual shit. He may want to take over control—starting by seeing how much chaos he can throw into our organization—and he’s not working alone. The shift in his methods only confirms that.”  His voice turned sharp, frustration creeping in. “So who the fuck is helping him?”

Kenma considered the theory, letting the silence stretch between them. Then, finally, he spoke. “Daishou’s reckless, but he’s not stupid. If this were about taking over, he’d be smarter.” His gaze darkened slightly. “Are we sure he’s even involved, it could be an entirely new threat?”

Kuroo exhaled sharply, drumming his fingers against the glass, the sound filling the quiet space. “Good point. We need to consider other angles.” He shifted, eyes narrowing. “Have Yaku look into that missing shipment from last week. If this is connected, I want to know.”

“Already on top of it.” Kenma’s tone was clipped.

Kuroo exhaled, jaw tight. “Someone’s poking holes in places they shouldn’t. And I don’t fucking like it.”

The room hung heavy with tension, but it wasn’t just business weighing on Kuroo’s mind. Kenma was watching him too closely, and Kuroo knew what was coming next.

Sure enough, Kenma’s voice broke through the quiet, edged with amusement. “It’s been weeks. Why is she still on your mind?”

Kuroo’s fingers twitched. The frustration inside him coiled tighter. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice lower now, rougher. He ran a hand down his face, ignoring how his muscles tensed at the thought of her. “She helped me. But it’s more than that and I can’t figure out why.”

Kenma studied him, sharp eyes assessing, before he tilted his head slightly. “I’ve never seen you like this.” His voice was almost amused, but there was something else beneath it—curiosity, maybe. “Not since… well, ever.” A small, dry laugh escaped him. “A girl’s never gotten you this off-balance.”

Kuroo’s eyes snapped to him, irritation flaring before he smothered it beneath cold indifference. “I’m not off-balance,” he muttered. The words rang hollow.

Kenma let the silence stretch before offering a shrug. “Maybe not. But something about her is fucking with your head. And when you start overthinking, that’s when everything goes to shit.” His voice sharpened, turning blunt. “She’s a distraction. We don’t need distractions. Not with someone stirring up trouble.”

Kuroo inhaled shakily, frustration still tightening his chest. “I told her I owed her for saving my life.”

“You hate being indebted to people,” Kenma said, pausing for a moment before continuing carefully, “I know we all gave you a hard time about her at first, but she’s smart. She patched you up without asking questions and didn’t involve law enforcement. Figure out what she wants, pay your debt, and be done with her for good. Maybe then, it’ll stop fucking with your head.”

Before Kuroo could respond, the room door creaked open, and Alisa walked in, her heels clicking sharply against the floor as she approached, her smile laced with sweetness and false charm. The warmth of the sunlight framed her in an almost surreal glow, casting her shadow over the room like a predator preparing to strike. She glanced between Kuroo and Kenma, her eyes gleaming with something far too knowing.

“You two are still talking about business?” she asked, her voice sweet as honey, but with a clear undertone of something far more playful. “How boring. I’d much rather be doing something... fun.” She took a few steps closer to Kuroo, her gaze locking onto him with an intensity that bordered on suffocating. 

Kuroo’s patience snapped, his voice cold, sharp. “Alisa, this isn’t the time.”

“Oh, come on Tetsurou,” she cooed, walking closer, her fingers brushing lightly against the back of his chair, her perfume—a mix of expensive florals and something darkly familiar—clinging to the air like a trap. She stepped in, her voice dropping into a more sultry cadence. “You look like you could use some relief, don’t you think?”

The frustration surged in Kuroo, and before he could stop himself, his voice snapped out, harsh. “Don’t call me Tetsurou,” he growled. His eyes flashed dangerously, the words cold and commanding. “Only a few people get to use my first name.”

Her eyes flickered with something unreadable—frustration? Amusement? It was hard to tell. Instead of leaving immediately, she trailed a slow fingertip along the back of Kuroo’s chair, her nails just barely scraping against the wood.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Kuroo,” she purred, voice dipping into something dangerously sweet. “Didn’t mean to overstep.” She tilted her head, eyes locking onto his with something closer to calculation than hurt. “But don’t forget, darling—some of us don’t like being replaced so easily.”

Kuroo’s patience was already worn thin. He rose from his chair, his towering form casting a shadow over the entire room. “I’m serious, Alisa,” he said, his voice low and deadly. “This is business. If you don't have anything valuable to contribute, leave.”

Then, with one last lingering glance at Kuroo, she turned and walked out, her heels clicking against the floor in sharp, deliberate beats.

Kuroo let out a sharp breath, the weight of his frustration slipping momentarily. He stood still for a beat, trying to shake off the anger that simmered beneath the surface, but Kenma didn’t miss it.

Kenma glanced at the door, then turned his attention back to Kuroo, a sly smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “She’s got a way of leaving an impression. Must be exhausting, dealing with that.” His voice was light, but there was sharp meaning behind it, cutting through the stillness.

Kuroo shot him a look, his eyes narrowing slightly, his voice tight with annoyance. “Don’t start.”

Kenma, clearly enjoying the moment, settled deeper into his chair. 

It wasn’t a secret that Alisa and he had a history—some heated moments, a few quick, messy releases—but frankly, Kuroo couldn’t have cared less about her. Their relationship had always been a mutually beneficial transaction. He no longer had the patience for her games. 

Just as they were about to speak again, the door opened, and Fukunaga stepped in, his expression serious with a clipboard in hand.

“Boss,” Fukunaga said, his voice respectful but urgent. “Are you still set to meet with Bokuto later?”

Kuroo’s focus snapped back into place, his movements smooth and controlled. “Yeah. I’ll meet him later. Make sure the funds are ready to move.” Setting the whiskey aside, his mind clicked back into gear. “We need to move quickly. Withdraw what I need, and have everything prepped.”

Fukunaga nodded. “Understood, Boss. I’ll take care of it right away.”

As Fukunaga exited, Kuroo turned to Kenma, his gaze cold and calculating. “Bokuto had been doing well using the bakery as a front for our drug stash, but now I’ve got him handling our finances. Laundering money, tracking earnings, and keeping the books spotless. If anything gets flagged, we’re done.”

Kenma’s eyes narrowed, his expression hardening as he processed the new information. “We can’t afford a slip-up, not after what happened with the last accountant. Bokuto’s curiosity could spell trouble. Keep him in line—don’t let him start digging into things he doesn’t need to know. One wrong question, and it all comes crashing down.”

Kuroo’s lips curled into a grim smile, his voice low and hollow. “Don’t worry. When I see him, I’ll make it very clear who’s in charge... and exactly what’ll happen if he sticks his nose where it doesn’t belong.”

The evening air had softened, and the usual hum had faded into a peaceful stillness, bathed in the amber glow of streetlights. Above, the sky had deepened into rich indigo and violet, the last remnants of daylight bleeding into the horizon, leaving a canvas of tranquil hues.  The colors seemed to breathe with you, a quiet exhale against the weight of the day. As you made your way down the quiet side street to the restaurant, there was a sense of calm in the air, something that allowed you to finally exhale, as if the world itself had offered you a moment of respite.

Your phone buzzed in your hand, the screen lighting up with Koushi’s name. A small smile tugged at your lips, his presence always managing to soothe the tension that seemed to cling to you lately.

"Hey," you answered, your voice much warmer than it had been earlier.

"Hey! I just parked. I’ll wait for you inside," Koushi replied, his cheerful tone reaching through the phone with ease. You could hear the sound of him settling into his seat as you approached the entrance.

The restaurant was small and cozy, tucked away from the bustling main road. It had the kind of atmosphere that made you feel at home—a haven where everything felt simple and calm. As you stepped inside, the savory scents of grilled meats and roasted vegetables welcomed you, easing the tension that had lingered in your chest all day. Koushi waved from a booth near the back, grinning as he spotted you, and immediately, the tightness in your stomach loosened.

You joined him with an exaggerated embrace, laughing as he gently teased you about your apparent exhaustion. The two of you sat down, and after ordering your food, the conversation flowed easily. But despite the usual comfort of your time together, there was an underlying weight that hung between you. Koushi’s sharp eyes never missed a thing.

“So,” Koushi began, pushing his glass of water aside, his tone softening with concern. “You’ve been distant. What’s going on?””

You hesitated, tracing the rim of your glass, as you struggled to find the right words. How could you even explain the tangled mess in your head, especially with the strange pull Tetsurou had on you? The way his presence seemed to haunt you, even now.

“It’s... complicated,” you murmured, your eyes flicking toward the door as another couple entered. “You remember the guy I helped a few weeks ago? The one in the alley?”

Koushi nodded, his eyes narrow as the memory resurfaced. “Tetsurou, right.”

“Yeah,” you said, your voice trailing off as you took a sip of water. “I... can’t stop thinking about him. The whole situation’s been bothering me. It’s making me feel... off.”

Koushi’s brow furrowed as he leaned back in his seat, studying you carefully. The playful expression that usually adorned his face faded, replaced by something more serious. “Did he threaten you?”

“What… no,” you admitted, your voice quiet. “He had this….presence. Like violence was second nature to him. He warned me—told me not to get involved with him.” You hesitated, fingers tightening around your glass, “Part of me felt like I could trust him, He…. He didn’t frighten me. Not really.”

Koushi exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face before leveling you with a look that was equal parts concern and frustration. “Do you hear yourself right now?” His voice was low, and measured, but there was an unmistakable edge beneath it. “He warned you to stay away. Hell, you just said he was violent. And yet, you’re sitting here telling me you trust him?”

He shook his head, leaning forward, his elbows resting on the table. “People like him—who hide things, who have agendas—are dangerous. You need to stay away from him. I know his type of men, they like to push just enough to make you curious, just enough to make you want to get involved with them. You don’t know him. And you sure as hell can’t afford to start trusting him.” 

His fingers tapped against the table, his expression darkening. “Tell me you’re not planning to see him again.”

You hesitated, and the silence stretched just long enough to make Koushi sigh. “Of course not,” you said quickly, but even you didn’t believe it.

Koushi fell silent for a moment, his gaze shifting toward the window. The noise from the street filtered in, momentarily muffling the restaurant’s ambiance. His lips pressed together as if weighing something in his mind, and then he spoke again, his tone heavier this time.

“You know," He said, his voice tinged with concern, “this makes me even more apprehensive about the area you live in”

Your stomach twisted slightly, but you said nothing, waiting for him to continue.

“What happened a few weeks ago…” He trailed off, glancing down at his hands before meeting your gaze again. “That man —he shouldn’t have been anywhere near you, let alone been brought your apartment.”

You took a slow breath, trying to keep your tone even. “I wasn’t going to leave him to die, Koushi. And I’m fine. I handled it.”

Koushi’s expression softened, but the worry in his eyes didn’t fade. “I know you did. But that’s not the point. Your place—it’s not safe. You deserve better than this. There’s no reason you should be living in a neighborhood like that. The city might not be perfect, but there are safer places you could be.”

You shifted uncomfortably as Koushi’s words settled in. As if I hadn’t thought about that before. As if the reality of my situation wasn’t constantly looming over me like an inescapable shadow.

“I don’t have much of a choice,” you muttered, trying to keep the bitterness from creeping into your tone. “It’s all I can afford on my salary, Koushi. I’m trying my best.”  

What little money you had left over went to groceries and student loan payments. 

No matter how hard you worked, or how many shifts you picked up, they never seemed to shrink. The debt clung to you, a constant reminder that no matter how many years had passed since college, you were still paying the price—literally—for a future you were barely holding together. The idea of moving somewhere safer? Laughable. You were lucky to have a roof over your head at all.

You were doing the best you could. That was the lie you told yourself, anyway. Koushi didn’t the full extent of your financial troubles, and you weren’t about to tell him.

His sigh was heavy frustration evident in the way he ran a hand through his hair. “I know you are,” he said, his voice softer now. “But I’ve seen what happens in places like that. What if it’s worse next time? You got lucky this time. But what if next time, you aren’t?

His words cut deeper than you wanted to admit. I know I got lucky. But what now? Just pick up and leave? With what money? Rent in a safer neighborhood was nearly double what you paid now. Even if you miraculously scraped together the cash for a deposit, how long would it last before you were drowning again?

You stared down at the table, picking at your napkin, as the memories flooded in—of a time when you didn’t have to worry about safety when home was a place of warmth and laughter. You remembered your mother’s soothing voice, how she used to read bedtime stories, the rhythm of her words wrapping around you like a soft, protective blanket. It was the kind of comfort that made you feel safe as if nothing could ever go wrong. Your father, too, had been a steady presence, always in the kitchen, filling the house with the smell of home-cooked meals, humming to himself as he worked. His laughter had been the heartbeat of the house, making everything feel grounded, stable, and peaceful. You used to feel like warmth was something you could reach out and touch.

But that warmth had a way of vanishing when you needed it most. And now, it felt like everything was a distant memory, a ghost of a time when life didn’t feel so uncertain.

“I’m fine,” you said, your voice quiet but firm, pushing back the unease creeping up your spine. “I’ll make it work.”

Koushi didn’t look convinced, but he nodded slowly, his fingers tightening slightly around yours as he reached across the table. “I just want you to know… if you ever need a way out, I’m here. Always.”

You gave him a small smile, grateful for his support, though it didn’t quite reach the growing knot of unease deep inside you. The rest of the conversation passed in a blur, as Koushi tried his best to lighten the mood with stories of his students causing chaos at school. 

His familiar presence helped, but it was hard to shake the weight of the previous conversations you had—your financial strain, Tetsurou, the quiet ache of a home that once felt warm, a family that had been taken too soon. The comfort Koushi offered now only reminded you how much you had already lost; how little warmth remained in your life. You had learned to survive without it, but it still lingered like a shadow, reminding you of what you could never have again.

Unbeknownst to you, as you absentmindedly picked at your food, Kuroo entered the restaurant. His dark attire sharply contrasted against the warm glow of the space, and his eyes scanned the room with calculated care. His steps were smooth and purposeful, but when they landed on your booth, his gaze faltered, a jolt of something unfamiliar surging through him. His pulse picked up, the sensation so sudden and sharp that it felt like fate had nudged him into a direction he hadn’t anticipated.

The last time he’d seen you, everything had been chaos, and even now, he found himself thinking about you more than he cared to admit. There you were, sitting across from the man, smiling, looking so effortlessly at ease. You were—so composed, your laughter light and genuine—made him pause. He admired how the soft glow of the restaurant highlighted the warmth of your expression, the way the light caught your hair. You looked… different, more at peace than when he last saw you, and it struck him harder than he wanted to admit.

The knot in his gut tightened. Something about your appearance, the ease with which you existed at this moment, dug under his skin in a way he wasn’t ready to confront. The sight of you—so unaffected, so natural with someone else—made a strange jealousy flicker to life in his chest. 

Who the fuck was this guy?

Kuroo couldn’t pinpoint what about you had gotten under his skin. There was something there, some unspoken pull that made him want to know more, even though it didn’t make sense. It wasn’t like him to be intrigued by someone in this way, especially not someone like you. But the attraction was undeniable, pulling at him with an intensity he couldn’t ignore. He wondered if maybe this—this encounter—was more than mere coincidence.

But before he allowed himself to think further, his phone buzzed, pulling him back to the reality of the moment. He glanced at the screen briefly, then returned his gaze to the two of you. His attention needed to be elsewhere. As he made his way to the back, where his meeting with Bokuto awaited, the image of you—completely unaware—remained stubbornly in his mind. Fate had placed him here, and something told him this encounter was far from over.

You felt a strange shift in the air, the weight of someone’s gaze on you. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up, a faint prickle of unease crawling down your spine. When you looked up, though, the restaurant was just as it had been—a warm, cozy space, no one staring. But the feeling lingered, nagging at you.

As the night wore on, the city slipped into its quieter hours. The restaurant’s warmth still clung to your skin as you stepped onto the dimly lit sidewalk, Koushi following close behind. The crisp air carried the scent of snow on the horizon, a promise a harsh winter would be settling over the city.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you home?” Koushi asked, his brow furrowing as he shoved his hands into his coat pockets. “It’s late.”

You shook your head with a reassuring smile. “I’ll be fine. It’s just a few blocks.”

Koushi didn’t look convinced, but he sighed, knowing arguing would get him nowhere. “Text me when you get home, all right?”

“I will.”

He hesitated before pulling you into a quick hug, his warmth momentarily shielding you from the night’s chill. “Be safe.”

With a final glance back at him, you turned and began walking, the city’s pulse a steady rhythm beneath your feet. The streetlights buzzed faintly overhead, casting long shadows against the cracked pavement. The occasional hum of a passing car was the only sound accompanying your footsteps.

Despite the quiet, an unease prickled at the edges of your senses. It was subtle—like an itch at the back of your mind, a whisper beneath the hum of the street. You exhaled sharply, shaking off the tension. Koushi’s earlier words lingered in your mind. He wasn’t exactly wrong—your neighborhood wasn’t safe. The flickering streetlights, the occasional sound of distant shouting, the way you always kept your keys between your fingers when walking home—it wasn’t ideal. But what choice did you have?

You thought about the way the city felt like it was closing in, the quiet had settled in with you. In some strange way, it reminded you of a time long ago—before all of this. Back when your world still felt warm.

Your mother had always tried to shield you from the dark things, the struggles that weighed on her silently. At only eight years old, you couldn't comprehend the depths of her battle. Darkness had crept into her mind like a quiet shadow, something you couldn’t see but could feel in the spaces between her smiles and gentle touches. She hid it so well—those smiles, those soft, comforting hands—but beneath it all, the weight of her depression dragged her further and further away. It was as if, despite all her efforts to mask it, something inside her was quietly breaking. In the end, it became too much for her. She succumbed to her demons, ending her own life.

You were left with your father—a man who tried to hold it together for you. He did everything he could to keep things normal, even when it was clear that his grief was consuming him. He wasn’t just mourning her; he was mourning his inability to save her from herself. You could see it in his eyes—how every day felt like a failure to him. But what could he have done? What could anyone have done? In the silence of her absence, you started to understand just how fragile everything was. And that truth hurt far more than any single moment of loss.

When you were ten, the world seemed to shatter again. Your father was diagnosed with lung cancer, and in those moments, it felt like a sick, cruel repetition. You remembered his face, drained of color when the doctors gave him the news, and how it changed everything from that point on. You spent the next three years in the sterile, bitter air of hospital rooms, never really knowing if the next visit would be the last. You were too young to process the gravity of what was happening, but you could sense the finality of it. Your father’s strength faded, just as your mother’s had, and there were moments when you could see the same helplessness in his eyes that you’d once seen in hers. The weight of everything was too much for one person to bear.

When you were 13, you lost him too. And suddenly, the house felt like a tomb—empty and silent. There were no more shared meals, no more laughter or soft hums of comfort in the kitchen. There was just the hollow echo of everything you once had, everything you once were.

That loss, that emptiness, stayed with you. You realized then that you couldn’t trust anyone to stay—no one could be relied on forever. People came and went, and with every loss, a piece of you hardened. You couldn’t bear to be close to anyone without the fear of them slipping away. That fear of being abandoned, of having your world shattered once more, was something you couldn’t shake, no matter how hard you tried. You had learned to keep your heart locked away, to guard it fiercely, because if you didn’t, you were afraid it would just keep breaking.

The cold air bit at your skin, pulling you away from those thoughts. The city, once familiar, now seemed colder—lonelier. The darkness crept around you, and each step you took through the quiet streets felt heavier than the last. Your mind raced, the unease growing in the pit of your stomach. It was as if something was watching you, waiting. You quickened your pace until a strange, unnerving sensation crawled up your spine.

A rustle. A footstep.

You turned sharply, only for a hand to clamp over your mouth, yanking you back into an alley. Panic surged through your veins, but you didn’t freeze. You twisted, using the momentum to stomp hard on your attacker’s foot. The grip loosened slightly, just enough for you to elbow them in the ribs and tear-free. You barely made it two steps before another hand grabbed your wrist, firm but non-violent.

“Relax, doc,” a voice purred, cold and smooth, wrapping around you like a snare. “Didn’t think you were the type to get so feisty."

That voice.

You froze, dread crawling up your neck. Slowly, you turned, already knowing who would be there.

Tetsurou.

There he was, leaning lazily against the alley wall as if he owned it, his smirk wide and confident, his eyes gleaming with something that made your stomach twist. He didn’t move, didn’t even flinch as you took him in—the same arrogant posture, the same gleaming golden eyes that always saw too much, always knew more than you did.

“Don’t touch me,” you spat, heart racing, the terror still clinging to your bones. You jerked your arm, trying to pull free from his grasp. His fingers barely tightened, like he was waiting for you to test the limits of your resistance.

“Why are you out here all alone?” His tone was teasing, amused even as if this was some game. “A little reckless, don’t you think?”

 “What the hell do you want?” you shot back, struggling against his grasp. 

He tilted his head, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I don’t want anything, doc. Just trying to look out for you.”  His lips curled into a lazy grin as he released his grip on you. “You’re making it easy for someone else to grab you first.”

“Easy?” you snapped, voice rising with indignation. “You’re the one who grabbed me, you sick—”

He raised a hand, cutting you off, his expression growing more serious, his gaze never leaving you. “Calm down. I’m not here to hurt you.”

The words had no weight, no comfort. You could feel the tension in the air thickening, the pressure of his presence suffocating you.

“Then what?” You demanded.

His eyes glinted. “I want you to consider an offer.” He took a step closer, invading your space without hesitation. “You’re in over your head. You’re out here alone, on your own, with no one to watch your back. Don’t tell me you don’t know what kind of city this is. People like me… we don’t let people like you wander around without knowing what’s at stake.”

The insinuation hit hard. You swallowed thickly, trying to keep the lump in your throat from betraying you. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I don’t?” He shrugged like it was nothing as if he wasn’t talking about your life, your safety. “You’re struggling, aren’t you?” His voice was suddenly colder, harder. “Money, debts, living in fear, worrying about whether you’ll be able to pay rent next month. I can see it in your eyes, You don’t have to keep scraping by.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “How do you know about that?”

He gave a sly grin, his gaze darkening. “I know more than you think. It’s what I do.” He leaned backward, his eyes gleaming with intent. “I’ve got a proposition for you.”

You furrowed your brow, trying to keep your composure. “A proposition?” you asked, your voice steady, though your stomach churned.

“Mm,” he hummed, a smirk tugging at his lips. Leaning in closer, his presence overwhelming, his voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. “A job.”

“A job?” You laughed, but it came out bitter, laced with incredulity. “What are you going to make me do? Sell my soul?”

His eyes gleamed with something darker, more calculating. “Not at all, doc. I need someone like you. You’re a surgical assistant. You know your way around wounds, and injuries—things people like me can’t just go to a hospital for. You’re someone who can keep their mouth shut, knows how to handle people, and isn’t afraid to get their hands dirty.”

You stared at him, heart racing. The weight of his words settled like a stone in your chest. You had no idea whether you should be terrified or intrigued. “People like you?”

His lips curled into a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes. “People like me… people who have enemies, who don’t have the luxury of going to a hospital when things go south. I need someone who can keep them alive. Someone with your skills. Think of it as being an underground doctor.”

Your mind spun, your thoughts a blur. The words "underground doctor" echoed in your mind, but nothing seemed to settle. He was asking you to step into a world you knew nothing about—a world full of danger, of things you couldn’t even begin to imagine.

“You want me to patch up criminals,” you said, voice flat, though inside, everything was screaming at you to walk away. “To be your medic.”

He nodded, his expression serious now, the casual arrogance replaced with something more intent, more purposeful. “I’m offering you security. A way out of this shithole you’re living in. A way up. You won’t have to keep looking over your shoulder every damn second. No more locking yourself in at night, hoping nobody’s out there.” His voice dropped to a whisper, and the words hit harder than anything he’d said before. “I’ll give you a place to belong. A place where you’re not just a little lost soul trying to survive. You can have more than that. If you’re smart enough to take it.”

Your mind raced, but you couldn’t shake the sense of déjà vu. Koushi had just told you that you deserved better and that you shouldn’t have to live in fear. And now here was Tetsurou, offering a “solution” that felt more like a trap.

“Were you following me?” The words shot out harsher than you intended before you could stop them.

His smirk widened. “No.” He leaned in a little closer, his breath brushing your ear as he whispered, “I don’t need to follow you to know exactly where you are.”

The words hung in the air, suffocating, pulling at you from all directions. You knew the cost. You knew the price of getting involved with someone like him—someone dangerous, someone whose world you’d never understand. But as you stood there, breath shallow and mind spinning, the thought of running from this decision… the thought of facing another night in that shitty apartment alone… made the offer sound almost too tempting.

“Why would you offer this to me?” you managed, barely able to find your voice.

His presence loomed over you, his breath warm against your skin. “I owe you. You saved my life, the least I can do is offer you a better life in return.”

"You think I’d just jump at your offer?" you shot back, trying to keep the bite in your voice, though you could feel your resolve slipping. He was right about one thing—life was wearing you down.

His grin didn’t fade, but there was a flicker in his eyes like he could sense your hesitation. He straightened up slightly, letting the silence hang between you for a moment, before speaking again, quieter this time.

"Not jump. Just... think about it. There’s a place for you in my world. And for once, you won’t have to keep running."

Your stomach twisted. Running. You weren’t sure what unsettled you more—that he saw straight through you or that he wasn’t wrong.

"I don't need your help," you managed, your voice wavering slightly despite your best efforts to sound sure of yourself.

"That's what they all say," he replied smoothly, his tone almost sympathetic, but his eyes never lost their calculating gleam. "But everyone needs a little help eventually."

You hated that he was right. You hated it more because you could see it: the lifeline he was offering, however twisted, while you were drowning in a sea of uncertainty.

Despite everything you knew about Tetsurou—his cold, calculating demeanor, the dangerous air that clung to him like a second skin—you couldn’t shake this strange, irrational trust in him. It was a crazy thing to feel. He was dangerous, no doubt about it, but there was something about him, something you couldn’t quite place, that made you believe he wouldn’t hurt you. 

Maybe it was the way he looked at you—like he saw through all the walls you built around yourself. Maybe it was the fact that, for a brief moment, you felt like he cared. But that didn’t mean you were willing to dive headfirst into his world. You couldn’t forget the price of that trust. The consequences of even stepping a toe into the world he lived in.

"Think it over," Tetsurou continued, his gaze locked onto yours, unblinking, unwavering. "But this offer’s good for 24 hours. After that, it's off the table."

24 hours. That was all you had. A choice that could change everything. Your heart thundered in your chest. The shadows were closing in, and you could feel the weight of the decision pressing on you, suffocating. The life he offered was dangerous, but the alternative... scraping by in fear, always looking over your shoulder—was just as suffocating.

“I’ll think about it,” you whispered, the words slipping out more like a tentative promise to yourself than anything else.

Tetsurou’s lips curled into a knowing smirk. He seemed pleased with your answer. “Good.” His voice softened, almost too softly. “I’ll find you again.”

And then he was gone, swallowed by the night, leaving you alone with the weight of a decision you weren’t ready to make.

The alley felt colder now, the silence pressing in around you.

Koushi’s voice echoed in your mind, warning you, pleading with you to stay away from him.

You should.

You knew you should.

But you weren’t sure you would.

And that terrified you more than anything.

[saipaintsastory]

Take Me to Church

A BoKuro Mafia AU

CW/TW: bondage, mentions of violence, a smidge of attempted murder, a *small* kidnapping, a hint of dubcon, some oral fun and smoking.

My knees ached. No, everything ached. Where am I? My eyelids felt like they weighed a 100 pounds as I tried to open them. I tried to recall what happened, but it felt like my thoughts were slogging through mud and just wouldn’t connect. There was only one dim light in the room, but it stabbed at my eyes like a million-watt bulb. I couldn’t see much, but what I could make out didn’t make sense. I was kneeling on a tatami mat; in a place I didn’t recognize. I tried to move but instead only felt the raw burning of rope biting into my skin around my thighs, my hips, wrists, chest, neck, everywhere, it felt like.

I looked down at myself. Bright red rope snaked around my thighs and calves, up between my legs, caging my body up into a collar at my neck and down around my wrists which were secured behind my back. I was also stark fucking naked. What the fuck is going on? My head was still swimming in a fog as I scanned the room looking for any indication of where I was or why I was tied up and naked.

“It’s about time you woke up. I’ve been waiting forever.” A man’s voice came from the darkness to my left. It was soft, but there was vicious edge to it. I know that voice. Shit. There was a shuffle of fabric, followed by slow, heavy footsteps that had me squirming, ignoring the sting of the rope as it tightened with every movement. I needed to get away before this psycho got to me. I tried to ignore the way it squeezed certain places; the conflicting sensations of pain and fear with unexpected pleasure were overloading my still hazy mind.

A figure stepped into the circle of light and squatted down next to me. The smell of his cologne bringing everything back into sharp focus in my mind, like someone had suddenly dumped cold water over me. My body reacted to the scent before my mind could catch up a moment later. A hint of wood smoke and whiskey trailed behind his cologne and the combination had me swallowing thickly. “I thought you quit smoking those stupid cigars, Bokuto.” I managed to force out, my voice hoarse and gruff.

“Well, you know I love a good Cuban after a victory.” He purred next to my ear. I couldn’t stop the wave of goosebumps the proximity of his voice and the heat of his breath on my neck sent crashing over my body. He stroked my cheek with the back of massive hand before whispering his lips over the shell of my ear, sending a shiver radiating down my spine. “Call me by my name, Tetsurou.” He breathed languidly, my cock filling out rapidly as I gritted my teeth against the sensation.

I tried to jerk my head away, but the rope bit into me, drawing a hiss from my lips and keeping me in too-close contact with the psycho in the suit next to me. Bokuto Koutarou; eldest son of the Bokuto clan, one of the Five Families. Childhood friend of one Kuroo Tetsurou, me, the only son of the Kuroo clan, another of the Five Families. That is, until the assassination of the Ushijima clan’s heir, sent the Families into a civil war. He and I were close once, and my heart ached at the memories that cued up in my mind. Young emotions, trampled under familial duty and forgotten over the years of manipulations and warring factions, all flooded back.

I hadn’t seen him since my father ordered the hit on him and his family three years prior.  I still had the scar above my eye from where he bashed my head in, almost besting me for good that day. He was stronger than I was, always had been, but I was quicker and just barely managed to escape with my life back then. This time though, I was at his mercy.  There was no escaping these ropes.

He stood up, slowly stepping in front of me, unbuttoning his shirt sleeves and rolling up the cuffs, his irezumi peeking out as it wrapped around his massive forearms. I remembered when he first got his ink; how the owl in flight that spanned the width of his broad shoulders was one of the most beautiful works of art I’d ever seen. The pang of longing in my chest made me sneer in response to the thought. As he bent down in front of me, I tried to avoid his bright golden gaze, hoping he couldn’t see the weakness I still had for him.  

“Look at me, Testu.” Bo said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. My eyes flicked to his mouth before I could avert them again. He laughed softly under his breath, the sound almost like the purr of a cat, went straight to my already half-hard dick, making it twitch involuntarily. God dammit. I tried to pull my knees together to give myself some sort of cover, but the ropes pulled so tight, it felt like my whole body was in a vice. “Christ Bo, what the fuck kind of knots did you tie?” I choked out as he continued to stare at me with that piercing gaze of his.

I tried to hold still, knowing if I moved any more, I’d probably strangle myself. Bo loosened his tie, popping the top button of his shirt open with a sigh. I hated myself for the visceral reaction my body had to watching him do these simple things. He leaned forward on his knees reaching a huge hand up to the scar above my eye. “It’s a shame that scarred, though it does lend a certain ruggedness to that face of yours.” He purred and I’d be lying if I said the feel of his touch on my skin didn’t make me want to melt into him. “You almost put me down that day, you know.” He continued and suddenly he wasn’t the rival I was sent to kill, but my oldest friend again.

“Bo I-“ I started, my voice cracking under the pressure from the rope. “What did I tell you to call me?” He interrupted and I looked up at him, a little confused. I couldn’t tell if he was toying with me or pleading with me to be the kids we once were again. His gaze was hypnotic and I couldn’t stop myself from falling into those golden eyes, just like I had as a kid. “Kou…” I whispered, transfixed by his stare. The corners of his mouth twitched up for just a moment before he crashed against my lips.

His kiss was hot and bruising and everything I’d ever fantasized about. His tongue split the seam of my lips and swiped hungrily into my mouth, swallowing the groan that escaped me at the feel of him. His hands cupped my cheeks as his fervent kiss enveloped me, body and soul. I’d wanted this for years. I purposely ignored the tiny nagging in the back of my brain wondering why this was happening now to focus on just how soft his lips really were. An eternity of bliss later, he pulled away with a gasp, pressing his forehead to mine. His hands roamed down my neck to my chest where he wrapped his fingers between the rope and my skin, gripping it painfully tight.

“I was supposed to kill you tonight, you know.” He whispered; his tone softer than before. “But just like you couldn’t do it three years ago, I can’t do it now.” I pulled back to look at him. He knew. He knew I couldn’t go through with it back then. I sighed and slumped as much as the rope would allow. “You knew all this time then?” I asked quietly. He put a finger under my chin tipping it back up to his line of sight. “That you lost that fight on purpose or that you were in love with me?” he asked with just the slightest hint of a smile. I could feel my eyes widen at the words, but before I could reply, he was closing the distance between us. “I’ve always known.” He breathed against my lips before kissing me deeply again.

I lost all semblance of thought as his mouth trailed kisses down across my jaw, down my neck, nipping at my collarbone as his hands slipped up my thighs, fingers gripping my hips in a bruising hold, betraying his own need. His touch was like fire on my skin, leaving every nerve exploding in its wake. A shuddering moan slipped from my lips and his grip tightened as he groaned into the skin of my shoulder. “Untie me, Kou. I want to touch you. Please.” I begged, giving up on all pretense. I felt him shake his head slowly against my skin and a thought crossed my mind; did he feel the same or was this all a sadistic game?

He leaned back to look at me, just as the thought cleaved its way through the heady lust that had pulsed through me a moment before. “I finally have you to myself. I’ve waited for this day since we were teenagers, Tetsu. I knew that was your father’s doing back then and while I’m sure they’re hunting for you as we speak, they’ll never find you here. You’re mine for now.” I watched him pull his tie completely off and rip open his shirt, buttons popping off, landing with soft plips on the mat.

He'd become even stronger, more defined since I last saw him without a shirt. His tattoos gracefully covering a chiseled chest, a large scar crossed his tanned abs and without thinking I tried to lean forward to kiss it. The rope bit into my neck and chest and I whined in spite of myself at the lack of connection. His fingers traced the length of the scar. “Is it stupid that I miss you every time I see this in the mirror?” Bo said quietly and I couldn’t help the smile that came across my lips. “So, you think about me a lot do ya?” I said, cocky tone matching my smirk.

He leaned forward, trailing a long finger down my chest to the knot of rope that sat just above my now dripping cock and I gritted my teeth to keep from begging out loud for him to go further. His lips brushed my ear, his hot breath sending waves of want across every inch of my exposed body. “All the time.” He purred and my hips twitched up reflexively. His fingers slowly moved below the knot, teasingly playing with my pubic hair and the need for him to touch me surrounded me tighter than the ropes that held me in place.

He began slowly kissing down my body. “Tonight’s (kiss) my one (kiss) chance (kiss) to have you (kiss) and if (kiss) you’ll let me (kiss) I’ll have you (kiss) seeing God (kiss).” His words punctuated with white-hot kisses had me trembling by the time he got to my thighs. My jaw ached as I tried with all I could to keep from begging him to touch me. My breath caught in my throat as I felt the lightest trace of his fingers run up the length of my aching cock, slowly swirling around the tip, teasing me in the worst and most delightful way. “So, Tetsu, can I?” he asked, his voice heavy with want. I looked down at him. The sight of those eyes staring up at me, lustful and needy almost made me burst on sight.

“Take me to church, Koutarou.” I exhaled, not caring how desperate I sounded. All the air punched from me as he swallowed me to the hilt, wrapping me in tight, wet, heat. I’d never felt anything so incredible in my life. As he worked me in all the divinest of ways, I slipped away into the gospel of Bokuto Koutarou.

[dinosuccessor]

"Drunk on Bokuto Koutarou was Keiji's personal paradise."

From; Yours to worship, yours to wreck.

Peak-a-bo; Heartbroken and abandoned Keiji didn't expect, not in his liquor dreams to devote himself to someone out of uncontaminated selfishness.

Second part is on my ao3!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/46879837/chapters/120041515

[ao3feed-iwaoi]

Happy Days

Read this masterpiece on AO3 at https://ift.tt/e8R09Dg

by noliferr

In the bustling city of Tokyo, the mafia rules the underworld. Lurking in the shadows, they fight each other and many other forces... One day, the sister of Oikawa Tooru, Ren finds herself in the middle of the dangerous business. On the other hand, her brother's girlfriend Kuzuryu Inma seems to be working on something on the background... So I wrote this for my best friend! I decided to upload it to here. The real protagonist is Ren, but this is as much about the other cheracters as about her. Kind of. The two self-inserts (Ren- my friend, Inma - me) can be read from the readers perspective, so you have some "options" if you want to read it as an x reader. If you don't enjoy x readers, self inserts, I tried to write about the boys too. I hope you enjoy it!

Words: 18447, Chapters: 9/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Haikyuu!!

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con, Underage

Categories: F/M, M/M

Characters: Iwaizumi Hajime, Oikawa Tooru, Oikawa Tooru's Family, Oikawa Tooru's Sister, Miya Atsumu, Miya Osamu, Sakusa Kiyoomi, Suna Rintarou, Kita Shinsuke, Kuroo Tetsurou, Kozume Kenma, Haiba Lev, Yaku Morisuke, Tsukishima Kei, Tsukishima Akiteru, Kyoutani Kentarou, Tanaka Ryuunosuke, Tanaka Saeko, Shimizu Kiyoko, Tendou Satori, Ushijima Wakatoshi, Azumane Asahi, Terushima Yuuji, Akaashi Keiji, Sugawara Koushi, Sawamura Daichi, Yachi Hitoka, Hinata Natsu, Semi Eita, Goshiki Tsutomu

Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime & Oikawa Tooru, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou, Kuroo Tetsurou/Reader, Oikawa Tooru/Reader, Ushijima Wakatoshi/Reader

Additional Tags: Self-Insert, Organized Crime, Murder, Haikyuu!! Time Skip, Onigiri Miya Shop (Haikyuu!!), Angst, Fluff and Angst, Smut, Help, For a Friend, Funny, What Have I Done, What Was I Thinking?, Gun Violence, Rape/Non-con Elements, Blood and Violence, Sexual Violence, Past Child Abuse, Bad Jokes, Song Lyrics, Triggers, Blood, Brutal Murder, Suicide Attempt, Suicide Notes, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Self-Harm, Drug Use, Drugs, Drug Addiction, Rehabilitation, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, psychiatric hospital, Break Up, Suicidal Thoughts

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/e8R09Dg

[moons-and-stars-and-shit]

Okayyyy so here’s what I’m Thinking. Bokuto was well known in Tokyo and everyone knew not to mess with him. He met reader at a book shop she worked at. He found her very interesting. The reader is a bit shy. They became friends and started liking each other. She didn’t know that he was in the maifa until she saw him kill someone. He then tired to tell her it’s not what it looked like but reader was afriad of him and ran home. She avoided him for weeks until he showed up at her door with flowers and a bunch of gifts and begged her to talk. - 🍒

𝙼𝚊𝚏𝚒𝚊! 𝙱𝚘𝚔𝚞𝚝𝚘 𝚡 𝚁��𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝙲𝚆: 𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙼𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛/𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑, 𝙶𝚞𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚍, 𝙺𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏 𝚝𝚘 𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 2.5

Oh god

It was moments like these where you wish you could just travel back in time...or at the very least erase your memory...but life won't give you those options, so the only option you have now is to run.

6 Months Ago…

"Ah yes there's nothing quite like this" you thought to yourself flipping to the next page of your favorite book. You really loved working in the local bookshop. Your friends would always joke around how it fitted your “aesthetic” so well. Not that you could disagree though, you couldn't deny that you loved evenings like these, where the rain was pouring outside while you were inside the building reading a book. The faint smell of coffee from the coffee shop next door being the cherry on top to this little vibe you had going on. “Y/n! Do you think you could close up shop for me? I gotta go pick up my brother from practice before this rain gets too crazy". You were brought back into reality by your co-workers request. “Oh for sure! Go ahead.i'll take care of it” you said putting down your book. She thanked you before grabbing her coat and heading outside. You looked up at the clock making a mental note to start closing up in about 20 minutes. Suddenly your train of thought was interrupted by the shop's door opening, causing the little bell on top to jingle. Thinking it was your co-worker you turned around to ask what she had forgotten only to be face to face with a man.

Uhm...Hey! Do you mind if i stay here until this storm dies down?” the male asked you. Giving him a quick look up and down you took notice just how drenched he was, from his grey and black hair dripping and sticking to his face, to his clothes that might as well have been dunked in water with how wet they have gotten. “O-Oh of course! Please come in'' you stuttered after realizing you had been staring at him just a second too long. You quickly ran to the back to grab the blanket you and your co-worker use whenever it gets too cold in the store. Running back to the front you hand the mystery man the blanket. “This won't do much for the clothes but maybe you can at least get your hair dry” you say as he takes the blanket. “Thank You so much!” he said beaming. There was a bit of awkward silence as he dried his hair off, but the silence was broken when he handed you back the blanket. “You're not much of a talker are you?” he said with a light chuckle. He made his way over to one of the reading chars and took a seat, motioning for you to do the same. “Yeah uh...sorry I'm a bit shy! Especially around strangers who just happen to walk into my bookshop” you said making your way to sit next to him. Once you had sat down he looked at you with shining eyes and a oh so bright smile “Well if that's the problem” he said holding his hand out to you ”I'm Bokuto Koutarou!”. You laughed a little at his enthusiasm before grabbing his hand “Well Bokuto, it's nice to meet you, I'm Y/n”

That night was the first of many that you'd be spending with Bokuto, in fact after that night he had become a frequent customer at the bookshop, always coming at the later hours, and always keeping you company whenever you started closing up. Hell he's even taken you out for drinks a couple times after your shift. You have never been one to trust strangers, let alone become good friends with them but shockingly enough, you felt rather comfortable around this strange man. Maybe it was his bright personality, or the way his eyes seemed to sparkle wherever he laid them on you, or even the way that his laugh caused a giggle or two to escape from your own lips. Either way you liked this Bokuto Koutarou, and if only you knew how much Bokuto liked you as well. Lucky both of your feelings would come to light on a night similar to the night Bokuto magically waltzed into your life...

Here you both were, sitting on the very same chairs you had introduced yourselves in. Only this time, you were both reading your respective books. However this peace was soon interrupted by a whiny Bokuto. “Y/nnnn I'm so boredddd” Bokuto said slamming his book shut. You put your bookmark in your book before closing it and looking at his puppy dog eyes ``Y'know for someone who comes into a bookshop so often, you're not that interested in books are you?” you told him with a smirk. “Hey! I'm smart enough without the help of your stinky books'' he said tapping the book against your head.. You grabbed the book from his hands and stuck your tongue out, watching as he plopped back on his self proclaimed “personal reading chair”. “Besides, I only ever really come to this shop to spend time with you”. You blushed at his small comment but not wanting your feelings to get the best of you quite yet, you decided to “test” these waters you were trending in. “What? You got a crush on me or something?” you said giving him a playful nudge. Now it was his turn to blush. It was silent for a beat to long and you were about to take back what you had just said, but you were quickly cut of when Bokuto took your hand, looked you dead in your eyes with a look that sent shivers down your spine “Would you hate me if I did?” he asked you in a soft tone, almost like a child admitting they broke something to their parent, a big contrast from his usual loud and confident voice. Instead of responding you simply squeezed his hand and cupped his face with the other “I would never hate you, especially if i feel the same way about you” Not being able to hold back anymore he simply grabbed your face and pulled you in for a soft but passionate kiss.pulling away he looked at you with all the love in the world “Y/n, I really want to be with you, but… there's a part of my life that you've never seen and I don't want to lose you over that” he told you, his eyes beginning to gloss over. Still pretty confused about what he was talking about you only took his face in your hand once more “Kou I will love you no matter what. Even your ugly parts”. Bokuto pulled you into a hug, trying to hide the tears that were falling freely from his eyes now. “Y-You promise?”

“I Promise”

Present Day

Thinking about that night still caused butterflies to flutter in your stomach. But now as you were running towards your apartment as if you were running from the grim reaper himself you couldn't ignore the feeling of dread that was sitting next to those butterflies. Had you really just seen that? Did you really just see your loving goofball of a boyfriend kill someone? It was supposed to be a normal night. You had closed the shop and were beginning to walk back home when you saw familiar spiky hair across the road. Curiosity had got the best of you, so… you decided to investigate. What you didn't expect to see was your boyfriend holding a gun to a man's head. It had all happened so fast first the crack of the gun, then your scream, then Bokuto's horrified expression as he turned and saw you standing there with your hand over your mouth. Before Bokuto could even try to explain what he had done, you ran. You ran away as if he was going to point the gun at you next.

Finally. Finally you were safe in your apartment. Your lungs felt like they were on fire, and your legs felt like absolute jelly. All you could do was collapse to the floor and break down crying. The scene from earlier replaying over and over in your head, causing you to get even more hysterical. Suddenly your phone started buzzing. You picked it up, as if you didn't already know who it was calling. The image of your boyfriend's face appeared on your screen, he looked nothing like the man who you had just seen commit that heinous deed. Suddenly anger took over your senses and you threw your phone across the room, returning to your fetal position to cry all your emotions out, eventually crying yourself to sleep

When you had finally awoken the sun was rising and the birds outside were singing their spring songs. You pulled yourself off of the floor before making your way to your phone across the room. "Damn it" you thought. Of course you had cracked your screen. Turning the phone on you was bombarded by hundreds of missed calls and text messages from your boyfriend. Could you even call him that any more? Would you really look at the man you saw kill and call him your boyfriend? Opting not to answer any of his messages or return any of his calls, you blocked him and went to go make you some tea, hoping to calm your still frazzled nerves”

The next few days were pretty quiet you hadn't even dared to leave your apartment, let alone even show up at work. You had called out telling your co-worker that you came down with a terrible cold and wouldn't be in for a couple of days. Sitting alone in your apartment during this time really gave you time to think about the events you had witnessed that night. Is this what Bokuto was talking about that night he confessed to you? Is this what he was afraid of losing you over? you couldn't really blame him if it was. But still, he could have at least warned you about this part of his life, or at the very least act like he was a cold blooded killer! You still couldn't bring yourself to think that the man you had cuddled in bed with, the man you had taken walks in the park with, the very man who opted to release a spider instead of killing it, would actually have it in him to kill an actual person. Suddenly your thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. Still a little on edge you jumped at the sudden sound before that familiar sense of dread flooded your stomach. “Well gotta face the music some time” you breathed out slowly walking towards the door.

When you had opened the door you were practically tackled into a hug by a very hysterical Bokuto. You froze at the sudden contact “How could a man hug you with the very same hands he took someone's life with?" You thought as you gently pushed him off you. “Y/n I know I'm probably the last person you want to see right now but-” he was interrupted when you raised your hand. “You have 10 minutes to explain yourself then you either need to leave, or I'm calling the cops” you told him motioning for him to come inside. Bokuto practically jumped at the opportunity to finally explain himself to you and hopefully make you understand why he did what he did.

Each of you took a seat at your dining table. It was time for you to get answers... “Ok for starters, why are you here?” you started staring at him coldly. “Well you weren't answering any of my calls or texts and whenever I stopped by the bookshop you were never there, so I got worried” he replied fiddling with his thumbs. You slowly nodded at his answer. “So are you gonna tell me what the hell happened that night or are you just gonna sit there” you spat at him almost angrily. He flinched at your words before taking a deep breath “Well what did you see?” he asked. That was it for you. You slammed your hands on the table, not able to control your anger any more. “WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN WHAT DID I SEE?!?!? I SAW YOU FUCKING KILL SOMEONE KOUTAROU!!” you screamed at him standing up from your seat.”I DID IT TO PROTECT YOU!” he shouted back at you, throwing his hands up in the air. You both stared at each other in teary silence. “Y/n please let me explain… then you can hate me or kick me out i don't care! Just please…” you huffed before sitting back down, doing your best to hold back your own tears. “Ok” he said, trying to find a way to tell you everything “My family has always been a part of the mafia” he started, “When I turned 18 it was time for me to “take over” the family business” your mouth fell open, since he was 18? He's been doing this since he was 18? “When I first met you, I never ever wanted to tell you how much you meant to me because I never wanted you to find out about this part of my life, or even worse...I never wanted this part of my life to find out about you” he continued. You scrunch your eyebrows in confusion. “What do you mean “find out about me”” you asked him. “I mean, that if my rivals found out about you and I, they would start to come after you”. Your eyes widened at this. “S-so that guy you shot-” “was trying to kill you” he said finishing off your sentence. He then looked up at you, visible tears in his eyes. “I'm so sorry Y/n I never wanted to put you in any sort of danger but-” you had cut him off when you smashed your lips against his. All this time you had thought he killed that man out of cold blood. Not once did you even consider he was doing it for you. He kissed you back before pulling you into the tightest hug. “Y-your not mad?” he blubbered out. “Not anymore,” you said, smiling at him. “ I just wish you would have told me,” you said. “But I didn't want to lose you…” he whispered in your ear. One last time, you took his face into both of your hands. “Bokuto Koutarou I love you” you said, letting the tears fall from your eyes. He laughed a soft laugh “even the ugly parts?” he asked you

“Even the ugly parts”

[millya5]

Bokuto for my mafia/cult/yakuza au fic that’s currently in the making.

[001teyu]

hehehehheehhe

[ellillustrations-yt]

Just wanted to draw Mafia BokuAka. This acc took surprisingly long, and I spent more time on Bokuto than I would like to admit😅

[ayatominomusi]

[xlettex]

Deception || tetsurou kuroo Yakuza AU - Chapter Four

From the moment you looked into his eyes, you knew—he was nothing but trouble. Everyone warned you. Stay away from him. Don’t get involved. But you never listened. Tetsurou Kuroo, better known as Kurai, is the infamous yakuza boss of Japan. Just mentioning his name is enough to send shivers down spines and silence conversations in dimly lit alleyways. He is a force of nature—deceitful, ruthless, and dangerously unpredictable. A man who bends the world to his will, leaving chaos in his wake. And yet, to you… he is irresistible. You crave him — his touch, his warmth, the way he sets your skin on fire with just a glance. He makes you feel invincible like you can take on the world. But loving him is a double-edged sword. Because just as he lifts you up, he destroys you.

pairing - tetsurou kuroo x reader genre - action romance, crime romance, dark romance, erotica/smut rating - 18+ MINORS DNI chapter word count - 5.5k content warning - violence, drugs and alcohol, illegal activities, sexual content, angst. see each chapter for specific warnings.

Authors Note - This fanfic is inspired by the amazing fanart of the tetsurou kuroo mafia au (found image on pinterest, help me find the artist - I want to credit them). Disclaimer- This is a work of fiction, I do not condone the act of illegal activities, violence, or romanticization of the yakuza. Read at your own risk.

chapter three <- chapter four -> chapter five

✯ chapter-specific warnings -smoking, alcohol, reference to drugs, violence, implied threats, illegal activity, depression, references to death & loss, manipulation, coercion, stalking & surveillance ✯

Kuroo had made a mistake.

Not the kind that got people killed—not yet, anyway—but the kind that stayed, coiling around his thoughts like smoke, refusing to clear. He hadn't meant to offer you anything.

It hadn’t been part of the plan. Hell, there was no plan. You weren’t supposed to matter. He should’ve just given you a generous payout and called it even, letting you fade into the background of his memory, just another face in a city full of millions.

Yet here he was, standing on the balcony of his penthouse, the cold night air biting at his skin, cigarette smoldering between his fingers, and—no. He wasn’t thinking about you. Not really.

He was thinking about loose ends. About mistakes. That’s all this was. You weren’t supposed to be anything more than a fleeting thought. An oddity. Something he’d eventually forget.

He flicked the ashes over the balcony railing, watching them disappear into the darkness below. His fingers curled round the glass of whiskey beside him, and he took a sip. It should have burned when he swallowed, but it didn’t. Despite his best efforts, his mind kept drifting, back to that alleyway. Back to you.

At first, he told himself it was curiosity. Nothing more. But then he saw you—alone, vulnerable, scraping by in a city that would chew you up and spit you out—and something in him shifted. He didn’t like that feeling. He shouldn’t have opened that door.

But he had.

And Kuroo never let go of what was his.

Thirteen hours

That’s all you had left.

The steady beeping of monitors, the low murmur of voices, the shuffle of hurried footsteps against the tile. Sounds that should have anchored you, pulled you back into the reality of your work. Instead, they blurred together, a constant buzz at the edge of your consciousness.

You weren’t thinking about him.

You weren’t.

You were thinking about your shift, about the patient in Room 307 who needed their bandages changed, about how you hadn’t eaten since this morning—

"I’ll give you a place to belong."

Your fingers tightened around the clipboard. Stop.

 It wasn’t an offer. Not really. It was manipulation, wasn’t it? A setup. A game you hadn’t agreed to play. 

You clenched your jaw, shaking the thought away, forcing yourself to focus on the clipboard in your hands. You were being ridiculous. It was just an offer. You had been offered jobs before. Granted, none were from people with smug smirks and promises that felt more like traps.

You should have laughed in his face. Should have walked away. But you hadn’t. Because you had hesitated. And that was what scared you the most.

A chill crawled down your spine as you scrawled something on the chart, barely aware of what you were writing. Why were you even thinking about this? Why were you still letting his words get to you?

"Are you even listening?"

The sharp voice snapped you back to reality, and you flinched, blinking up at Shirabu, who stood in front of you with his arms crossed, eyes filled with thinly veiled irritation.

Shit.

The clipboard in your hands suddenly felt heavier, like it was condemning you for not paying attention.

“I—yeah, sorry,” you said quickly, straightening. “What did you say?”

Shirabu exhaled sharply through his nose, pinching the bridge of it like you were giving him an actual headache. “I said if you’re going to zone out on the job, at least don’t do it in front of the interns. You’re setting a bad example.”

Heat rose to your cheeks, shame prickling at the back of your neck like needles. “I wasn’t zoning out,” you lied, forcing yourself to meet his stare.

Shirabu gave you a flat, unimpressed look. “Oh? Then explain why you just marked a patient with a broken wrist as needing an appendectomy.”

Your stomach dropped. Your hands moved before your brain caught up, flipping the clipboard around, and scanning the notes. And sure enough, you had scribbled the wrong notes without even realizing it.

Shit. Shit.

A cold sweat crept down your spine. You never made mistakes like this.

Shirabu didn’t say anything for a long moment, just watching you with that same clinical expression, like he was waiting to see if you’d crack. Finally, he sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “Fix it,” he muttered. “And whatever’s going on in your head? Get it together. We don’t have the room for screw-ups.”

You nodded quickly, biting the inside of your cheek as he walked away. As soon as he was gone, you let out a slow, shaky breath, pressing your fingers to your temple. You needed to pull it together. This wasn’t you. You didn’t get distracted like this. You didn’t lose focus.

But Tetsurou and his damn offer kept replaying in your mind, his words repeating like a whisper that dug deeper, embedding itself in your thoughts.

And now, you were questioning everything. Your job. Your sanity. Your whole life. It was like the world had shifted on its axis, leaving you unbalanced, floating between decisions you weren’t ready to make.

With each passing minute, uneasiness crawled under your skin, settling in your chest like a knot you couldn’t untangle. You weren’t so sure anymore. About your choices. About your future. The walls around you, once solid and dependable, were starting to crumble, and the idea of what might come next—the unknown—was both enticing and terrifying.

It was becoming clearer—if you didn’t get a grip soon, you weren’t just risking your job. You were risking everything you’d worked for, everything you thought you were in control of.

Nine hours.

That was all he had left before your decision would either seal your fate—or destroy the fragile offer he’d extended. He had never been a man to let things linger, but for some reason, this felt different. He couldn’t shake its weight, the pressure building inside him tightening like a vice around his chest.

Kuroo sat in his office, staring at the half-empty bottle of scotch in his hand, the amber liquid swaying gently as he rotated it. The alcohol doing little to numb the thoughts that kept creeping in—the thoughts of you. You weren’t supposed to matter, and yet here he was again, unable to stop himself from thinking about you.

Nine hours. 

He tried to push it aside, but that number kept echoing in his mind. 

Nine hours.

He took another long sip, the sharp liquid doing little to dispel the restlessness in his gut. His mind wandered back to the alley, to the way you’d looked at him—vulnerable, cautious, yet willing to listen. Something in you had shifted. Something he wasn’t ready to fully understand. The idea of you walking away, of not choosing him, was haunting.

A knock on the door snapped him out of his thoughts. The door opened, and his capos filtered in—Yaku, Kai, and Kenma, as expected. There was no greeting, just the usual quiet tension that always settled around them. They were waiting for him to speak first.

Kuroo set the bottle down, its cold glass a stark reminder of how much he’d already indulged. He needed to focus. Business. Now was not the time to dwell on the complications.

“Let’s talk shop,” he said, his voice breaking through the silence like a sharp knife. “The meeting with Bokuto went smoothly. No surprises. The finances are clean. Everything checks out. Money’s in order. No problems there.”

Yaku gave him a nod, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Good. We needed that.” His voice had a certain bite to it like he was already looking for the next thing to tackle.

Kuroo didn’t waste any time. “What about the missing shipment? What did you dig up?”

Yaku shifted forward, his demeanor all business. His hand ran through his hair, the only outward sign of agitation. “Daishou’s the one who took it,” he said with a tightness in his voice. “We’ve got confirmation on the movements, and his guys have been pushing it through smaller channels. Nothing major yet, but it’s definitely under his control.”

Tension coiled in Kuroo’s stomach at the name. Daishou.

That bastard.

The more he thought about it, the clearer it became. This wasn’t a random move—it was a challenge. Kuroo’s jaw tightened as he exhaled through his nose. Daishou had struck. Twice.

First, the attack. Then, the shipment.

“Daishou…” Kuroo’s voice dropped, becoming colder, more calculating. “He’s behind the attack on me too. Kai identified the guy who stabbed me—he’s tied to Daishou. No question.”

Kenma, who had been silent until now, let out a soft sigh. “So, Daishou’s making his move, but he’s not working alone. Not with that level of coordination.”

Kuroo nodded, rubbing his temple. “Exactly. There’s something bigger going on here. He’s not making a move without a reason. Whatever this is—whatever he’s planning—it’s bigger than a territory grab. Stay on it. We need to know everything. Where he’s hiding, who he’s working with, and what the fuck he’s after.”

Yaku’s eyes gleamed with resolve as he pulled out his phone. His fingers moved quickly over the screen, tapping out the next set of orders. “Got it. I’ll dig deeper.”

But Kuroo barely heard him. His mind had already shifted gears.

Kuroo had always been a strategist—a man who unraveled his enemies thread by thread, leaving nothing behind but regret and a grave no one would visit. He liked the slow game, the methodical dismantling of power.

But patience had its limits. And Daishou was about to learn that firsthand. Kuroo wasn’t interested in playing anymore. He reached for the knife on his desk, letting his fingers ghost over the handle. It wouldn’t be too difficult. One word to his men, and Daishou would disappear. No theatrics, no warnings—just a body dumped where no one would find it.

Or, he could make it look like an accident. Or better yet—a message. But where was the fun in that? No. Daishou wasn’t getting an easy exit.

Kuroo wanted him to watch as everything Daishou built collapsed. As his people abandoned him, his name would become nothing more than a whisper before it was entirely erased. And when nothing was left—Kuroo would decide if he deserved to breathe.

Kuroo tapped the blade against the desk, slow and deliberate. The logical move was to kill him now—clean, efficient, final. But logic hadn’t built Kuroo’s empire. No—the best way to destroy a man wasn’t to end him. It was to leave him breathing just long enough to wish he wasn’t. Daishou’s time was coming.

Soon.

Kuroo exhaled slowly, shifting his focus back to the room. His gaze flickered to the bottle of scotch fighting the urge to reach for it. Not yet. There was something else that needed to be said. Something trickier.

“I offered her something,” Kuroo said, his voice low but firm. His capos went silent at the words.

“Her?” Kai raised an eyebrow, a knowing look passing across his face as he processed the situation. His voice was a mix of disbelief and caution. “You’ve been doing this long enough, Kuroo. Don’t tell me you offered her protection—security?”

“I did,” Kuroo's gaze hardened, his tone blunt. “She hasn’t agreed yet, but it’s on the table.”

Yaku’s sharp gaze cut through him. “You know what this means, right? If she agrees—if you pull her into this— she’s in the crossfire. She’ll know too much. You sure that’s what you want?”

Kuroo leaned back in his chair, the weight of their questions settling over him. “She doesn’t know what I do. She only knows me as Tetsurou.”

Kenma's eyes shifted to him, a cold flicker of skepticism in his gaze. "You’re pulling her into this world... and she doesn’t even know who you are?"

“No,” Kuroo said, almost biting off the words. “I’m not dragging her in blind. She knows I’m into something, but not everything. Not the full picture.”

The tension thickened in the room, pressing down like an unbearable weight, as his capos exchanged looks, the air crackling with the weight of unspoken thoughts.

“You think that’s good enough?” Kai asked, his tone more cautious now. “You think that’ll be enough to keep her out of danger when it all comes crashing down?”

Kuroo hesitated. His capos were right to be concerned. It was messy, it was dangerous, and part of him was wondering if he was overestimating your ability to handle it. But he couldn’t help it. He wanted to believe you could be different. He had to believe that.

“Yeah,” he muttered finally, looking them each in the eye. “I do. She’s not in it yet. If she agrees, I’ll keep the chaos away from her as much as possible.”

Kenma’s eyes narrowed slightly as he shook his head, a quiet, almost imperceptible sigh escaping him. “You’re treading dangerous ground, Kuro.”

“I know,” Kuroo snapped, standing up abruptly, his voice cutting through the room like a blade. “This is my decision. I’ll fucking handle it.”

“Just be careful,” Yaku said, his voice quiet but firm. “The moment you let someone close—truly close—they become a liability. We all know that.”

Kuroo’s lips tightened into a thin line at Yaku’s words. He didn’t need the reminder. He had lived by that rule long enough to understand the danger of attachment, of letting anyone in. But Yaku didn’t know the full story.

He sat back in his chair, eyes cold as he stared down at the bottle of scotch in front of him. “I know,” he said, his voice almost flat. “I’m not an idiot, Yaku.” His fingers traced the rim of the glass absently. “But sometimes, you make decisions because the other factors outweigh the risks. Not everything’s black and white.”

His gaze flicked to Yaku’s, sharp but unreadable. “You think I don’t know what happens when you let someone get too close? I’ve been playing this game long enough. I’ve lost enough people to know the cost.”

The tension in the room lingered, thick and suffocating, before Kai let out a low, measured breath. “We can’t afford to lose focus on what matters. Daishou’s proving to be unpredictable. If we don’t figure out his next move, all of this—” he motioned to the room “—could go up in flames.”

Kuroo’s jaw tightened as the weight of his responsibilities pressed down on him. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by you right now—not with big threats looming on the horizon. But as the conversation carried on, and the capos fell into their rhythm, a nagging unease settled in Kuroo’s chest a feeling that he couldn’t ignore

Nine hours. 

Nine hours until your decision. And that decision? It would either break him—or drag you deep into a web he had already begun to weave, a web he wasn’t sure he could ever let you escape from.

Five hours.

The ticking of the clock on the wall echoed through your mind, each second passing like a hammer to your chest, a reminder of how little time remained.

Five hours to decide whether you wanted to walk away from everything, from him, and stay safe in the fragile life you’d built, or to step into a world so dark you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to find your way out. You didn’t want to make a decision. You didn’t want to choose between what was safe and what was real, but the weight of Tetsurou's offer pressed down on you like a vice.

It paralyzed you. His words—those damn words that kept echoing in your mind like a twisted lullaby—“I’ll give you a place to belong.”

It sounded so... simple, didn’t it? Like something anyone would want. A place to belong. A place to stop feeling like an outsider, like you were always on the edge, never really a part of anything. You’d spent years watching everyone around you live their lives, wondering what it would feel like to be a part of it. Koushi had tried, had opened his home, his heart to you, but you couldn’t let him get too close. You’d been taught not to. The more you let someone in, the harder the loss when they are ripped away. 

And they always were.

Your parents. Your childhood home. The people you loved. Gone. Just... gone. And you were left picking up the pieces, always alone, always pushing forward, never allowing yourself to rely on someone because you knew it was never worth it.

Death followed you, like a grim reaper, always lurking in the quiet halls of the hospital. With every patient who passed through your care, they left behind nothing but empty rooms and the cold weight of their absence. Loss was inevitable, a constant that you had learned to brace for. So, you kept your heart guarded, and distant—attachment only led to pain.

It was as if death itself was an omen, an invisible force that haunted every corner of your existence. It felt like you were cursed, destined to watch people disappear while you remained, alone, untouched by the comfort of peace. You could almost hear its footsteps following you down every hallway, reminding you that it was only a matter of time before it came for you, too. 

But now… now there was Tetsurou. His offer felt like a pull, drawing you away from the confines of death, tempting you with something that felt like a way out. It was like a drug you never thought you needed, but the moment you tasted it, you realized how deep it had already sunk into your veins. A poison, sweet at first, but you could feel it spreading—slowly, insidiously—until it consumed you from the inside out. You knew the danger and the cost, but it didn’t matter. 

You could have everything with him. Power. Money. A life. A world where you weren’t just a nameless face, an invisible figure walking through the dark. He could give you everything. And yet, something in your gut twisted at the thought. His world wasn’t yours. You didn’t belong there, and even if you tried, it was a dangerous game. The kind of game that could swallow you whole without a second thought.

It wasn’t just him —it was the darkness that shrouded him, suffocating, inescapable. His world would eat you alive. And yet, you kept stepping closer, drawn like a moth to a flame you knew would burn. You wanted to believe, just for a second, that you could escape from this never-ending void of loneliness.

You imagined what would happen if you said yes. If you accept his offer, allow yourself to be swept into his world. The power, the control, the belonging it could give you. For a moment, you allowed yourself to picture it—the warmth of a place that was yours, the security you’d longed for, the sense that maybe, just maybe, this time you could belong.

But that was a lie. You knew it. The moment you accepted, the moment you gave in to that pull, you’d be his. Owned. A pawn in his game. And once you were in, there was no getting out. Not without consequences. The kind of consequences you didn’t want to imagine. You’d seen the aftermath of what happened to people tangled in that life. Bodies brought in after gunfights—blood still fresh, faces barely recognizable. You’d witnessed the hollow stare of victims who’d been tortured, their bodies mutilated beyond recognition. The whispers in the hospital—those hushed tones about people who had been marked.

The first time you saw it, you thought it was just a tattoo. But the lines were too jagged, the skin too raw—like someone had burned it in. The patient barely spoke, but when his eyes met yours, you felt a rush of something—pity mixed with something hollow, as if you were seeing a part of him that had been irreparably damaged.

Later, when you asked the nurses, they exchanged uneasy glances.

"He won’t be here long," one muttered under her breath. "They never are."

You didn’t ask what that meant. You weren’t sure you wanted to know. But now, remembering that symbol, something clawed at you.

The shape. The way the lines curved, like some ancient, vicious thing. A mark burned into flesh, raw and unforgettable. our gut twisted, as if something deep inside you was trying to warn you. You’d seen that symbol before—almost as if it had been seared into your memory. Where had you seen it?

Your hands were shaking now, and you cursed under your breath. This was ridiculous. Paranoia. Overthinking. You understood now what the nurses had meant. The people who bore that symbol—the dragon, they called it—vanished without a trace. The truth was simple and terrifying: those who were marked disappeared the quickest.

The morgue had its own stories, stories about bodies that mysteriously vanished, no records to explain where they’d gone. They were just... gone. And you knew, deep down, that the price of stepping into that world wasn’t something you could come back from.

It wasn’t just the violence that scared you—it was the way that life consumed everything in its path. You knew what happened to people who crossed that line. They didn’t just get hurt. They disappeared. You could almost hear the echoes of their names, trailing off into nothing. If you accepted his offer and joined that world, you wouldn’t even be a person anymore.  Just a tool. A weapon. Disposable.

The thought made your skin crawl. You weren’t sure if it was fear or something else. Something darker. Something that twisted inside you, urging you to take the risk, to embrace the chaos, to stop being the passive observer and become the player. You hated it, but you couldn’t deny the pull. A sickening feeling washed over you, making you wonder if maybe you were already too far gone.

Five hours. That was all you had. Five hours to make a choice that could kill you in ways you couldn’t even comprehend.

The fear tightened in your gut. Tetsurou’s world was dangerous—but staying in yours? Staying small, safe, invisible? That terrified you more. A life where you were just… there. Existing, but never alive.

Could you afford to say no? Could you bear another lifetime of emptiness, of wondering what it would’ve been like if you’d taken the step into the unknown?

You squeezed your eyes shut. The weight of the decision crashed over you like a wave, suffocating, relentless. You could feel yourself cracking under the pressure, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t find the strength to walk away.

Because in your gut, you knew. You had always known.

The darkness was calling to you. 

Three Hours.

The city outside pulsed with neon and noise, but none of it felt real. The hospital break room, dimly lit with the hum of overhead fluorescents, was a world apart from the chaos just beyond the glass. Your fingers curled around the cold, untouched cup of coffee, its steam long gone, as you stared out the window.

Your reflection stared back at you from the window—a ghost of yourself caught between choices you weren’t ready to make.

With a sharp breath, you reached for your phone, the weight of your decision pressing against your chest. Your fingers hovered over the screen, fighting the urge to back out. You press Koushi’s name.

It rang once. Twice.

Then his voice came through, warm but tinged with exhaustion. "Hey. What’s up?"

You opened your mouth, but for a second, nothing came out. What were you supposed to say?

Hey, Koushi, I might be making the worst decision of my life, but I don’t know how to stop myself.

Instead, you settled for the simpler truth, though it still felt like a lie. "I just… needed to hear your voice."

A pause. Then, softer, "That bad, huh?"

You swallowed, rubbing your temple, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts you couldn’t quite piece together. "I don’t know. Maybe."

You could almost hear him on the other side, the quiet exhale as he tried to steady himself, maybe running a hand through his hair, brow furrowed in concern. “Talk to me.”

You closed your eyes, feeling the weight of everything pressing on your chest. "If you had the chance to change everything—your life, your future—but it meant stepping into something dangerous… would you take it?"

Silence.

After a long moment, his voice broke through, sharp, cutting through the tension. "This is about Tetsurou, isn’t it?"

Your stomach twisted. You didn’t answer fast enough.

Koushi inhaled sharply, exhaustion vanishing in an instant. "Why would you go looking for him?" His voice was still gentle, but beneath it, concern turned into something deeper. Disbelief.

You hadn’t gone looking for him. He had found you.

He grabbed you with a sense of ownership like he had every right to. You didn’t know why you stayed, why you didn’t run. His voice had wrapped around you like a tendril, pulling you closer, winding around you with a pressure you couldn’t escape. It slid down your spine, every word tasting like a promise, each syllable pulling you closer. You didn’t push it away. You couldn’t help but be drawn in, unable to resist how his voice penetrated your skin, settling in places it shouldn’t feel so...warm.

The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, before Koushi spoke again, quieter this time. “Do you even know anything about him?”

You closed your eyes, guilt crawling under your skin. No. Not really.

You knew the way he smiled—a sharp thing, like a predator’s grin, like he knew the ending of a story before you ever reached the first page. You knew the feel of his voice, smooth and dangerous like it could slip under your skin and make you forget where you stood. You could sense the weight of him, the power that hung around him like a dark cloud, making people both fear and respect him in equal measure.

But the rest? The truth? You didn’t know. And part of you didn’t want to.

Koushi exhaled, something raw and jagged in his breath. “What did he offer you?”

Your fingers tightened around the coffee cup, knuckles turning white. The words felt heavy on your tongue like admitting them out loud would make them real. But the silence stretched too long, the weight of his unspoken question pressing down, demanding an answer.

Finally, your voice came out small, barely a whisper. “A better life.”

Koushi inhaled sharply, the air between you thick with the weight of his concern. He didn’t respond right away, but you could feel the shift, the subtle tension tightening around his words. “A better life,” he repeated, his voice soft but unreadable. Then, quieter, “And you believe him?”

You squeezed your eyes shut as if that could shut out the truth. "I don’t know.

“You don’t know?” he echoed, his voice searching, like he was trying to understand it himself. You heard the faint rustle of him shifting, his breath coming slower like he was trying to steady himself.

Then, he whispered your name. But something in the way he said it made your chest ache like his heart had cracked just a little.

"You know what guys like him do, right?" His voice was gentle, but firm. "What his world is like?"

You swallowed hard, staring down at your hands. "I know enough."

"Enough?" Koushi let out a quiet, humorless laugh. "No, you don’t. If you did, you wouldn’t even be considering this."

Something about his words made frustration bubble in your chest. "You don’t understand—"

"Then make me understand."

You hesitated, biting your lip. How could you explain what you barely understood yourself? That for the first time in years, you didn’t feel the constant pull of exhaustion, the weight of simply surviving? That Tetsurou’s offer felt like the first thing to stir you awake in a long time? That it was a hand reaching out in the dark—and you weren’t sure whether it was meant to pull you to safety or drag you under.

"I just…" Your voice cracked, a shuddering exhale escaping. "I feel like I’m drowning, Koushi. And for once, someone’s offering me a way out."

The silence on the other end of the phone was different this time. It wasn’t disbelief. It wasn’t frustration. It was fear. Raw, unfiltered fear.

Something in Koushi’s voice cracked when he spoke again, his words faltering with emotion. "I don’t want to lose you."

Your throat tightened painfully. You tried to breathe, but the weight of it was too much.

"I don’t want to lose me either."

The words hung between you like a dark promise, too heavy, too real to take back. You could almost feel Koushi’s breath catch, the way his heart seemed to skip a beat, but you couldn’t make it stop. There was no going back now.

The time to decide was dwindling. And every second that passed only made the decision harder.

“I’m not going to abandon you,” Koushi said, his voice raw with desperation. “Even if you take that step.”

His words—steady and unwavering—should’ve been comforting, but they weren’t. They only made the storm inside you intensify. You closed your eyes, trying to find peace, but the lump in your throat wouldn’t budge.

Another long pause. The air between you is thick, suffocating. You could feel the weight of what you were about to do pressing down, starting to consume you.

Koushi’s voice broke through again, quieter now, more resigned, but still holding on to something fragile. “I promise I’ll always be here for you,” he said, each word cutting deeper than the last, carving out the space between you and everything you once believed.

The sincerity in his voice shattered whatever wall you’d tried to build. A sob caught in your throat, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. You wanted to scream, to tell him this wasn’t how it was supposed to be. But the words wouldn’t come. You could only choke on the overwhelming weight of it all—the decision, the loss, the fear.

For a second, you almost asked him to stop you. To talk you down from the edge.

But you didn’t. 

Instead, you whispered the only thing that felt real—raw and unshakable. “I love you.”

And then you hung up.

One hour and thirty minutes 

The room was dimly lit by soft moonbeams filtering through the blinds. Kuroo sat on the edge of his bed, running a hand through his messy hair, the cigar dangling loosely between his fingers, the smoke curling upwards like a lazy wisp. The quiet of his room was almost suffocating, but his thoughts were louder—you were somewhere out there, tangled in your doubts and questions. 

After the night you saved him, Kuroo had tried to leave you alone. But the urge to know you consumed him.

He started looking into your life. It wasn’t hard—he knew the right people. He dug deeper than you could imagine, uncovering the cracks you’d tried to hide. Your mounting debt, overdue rent, the life you were struggling to hold together. It all came to him in a rush, and as he saw the weight of it, he knew what to do. 

He set the pieces up, but never thought they’d fall into place.

Seeing you at that restaurant weeks later felt like more than a coincidence. It was as if the universe had aligned the stars ensuring he didn’t miss the opportunity. You were there—smiling, laughing, playing the part, but Kuroo could see through it. Beneath the carefully constructed facade, he saw that you were broken, exhausted, barely holding on to the scraps of hope you had left. And it hit him like a truck. This was it. Everything had led him to this moment, he could finally seal the deal.

He knew the offer wouldn’t be just an escape for you. It would be the only way out, the only way you’d feel you could survive. Kuroo didn’t do subtlety. He didn’t care for it. What mattered was making you believe that you were in control, that the decision was yours—when, in reality, the game was already rigged.

You thought you were making a choice. He had made sure you weren’t.

He flicked the ashes from his cigar, watching them scatter into the dim light of his bedroom. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He already knew who it was before he checked.

Inuoka

“Yeah?” Kuroo’s voice was low, with a calm edge to it.

Inuoka's voice crackled through the phone, steady but with a hint of urgency. “She just left the hospital.”

Kuroo smirked, taking another slow pull of smoke, and exhaling it into the still air, right on time. “Keep eyes on her,” he said, his voice a casual command—like he was ordering a drink, not orchestrating a surveillance operation. “But don’t let her notice. I want to see where she goes.” He ended the call without waiting for a response, knowing the game was set in motion.

All he had to do was wait.

When the clock ran out, he'd collect what was already his.

[lilserketfics]

akaken + 22 “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.” >:)

The night was growing late at the bar.   Akaashi held a gentle smile listening to his right hand man as well as best friend speak to another friend of theirs.  He could feel a pair of eyes on him.  He shifted, his eye’s looking towards the side, meeting oblivious gold until he turned his head.  ‘Kozume Kenma,’ he thought swirling the ice in his drink, the two toned blond snapping his head away.

Kozume Kenma was the last person he thought would stare at him like that.  He chuckled lightly, turning back, taking a drink.  He had to be careful if he wanted to get close to the kitten.  His head turning, tracing the bar before landing on sharp hazel eyes.  Kuroo Tetsurou, Kenma’s right hand man.  His lips twitched downward turning back around.

“Bokuto,”  Akaashi spoke just over the music and drunks in the bar, his friend immediately looking at him.  “I need you to distract a certain cat.”

“Oho?  Which cat?”  Bokuto asked with his usual grin as the younger made a small hand movement.  “Leave it to me,” the older’s grin widening as he left the bar.

The younger chuckled into his hand, hearing his friend shout Kuroo’s name.  The two were much closer than he and Kenma.  

But…

He felt those golden eyes on him again, this time twisting all the way around.  He watched as the faux blond jumped like a cat, running off to another part of the bar.  Normally he’d let the kitten go, but this owl was ready to hunt. Akaashi’s lips twisted into a smirk, moving swiftly from the bar.  He followed after the male, others quietly pointing him in the direction he had gone.

Akaashi’s footsteps were light, the music fading away as he went up stairs, thankful that no one was up here with them.  He stopped, taking in Kenma’s back side as the male looked over the railing, down at the people below.  Now was the time to strike.  

Soft.  His footsteps were soft, walking across the wood floor.  Sneaking up on male.  If he was trying to watch him, surely he will be surprised he was followed.  Akaashi lifted his hands, one resting on the male’s waist, the other wrapping around Kenma’s front, holding onto his jaw, pressing him closer to his body, noticing the jolt of shock.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice,” Akaashi’s voice was low and smooth, whispering into the other’s ear, feeling him relax in his arms.

“Your eyes are bad,” Kenma whispered back, a faint blush on his cheeks, feeling the other squeeze his hip, his chin tilting back.

“No, you’re just easy to read.”

“Are you going to kill me?”

Akaashi frowned, turning the other around, pressing him against the railing.  “No, I want you,” he confessed, both hands on Kenma’s hips.  “I want you to become ally’s with Fukurodani,” he told him, his thumbs jut barely under the other’s shirt, rubbing the soft skin there.  “And maybe get to know each other.”

“I don’t do ally’s,” Kenma moved his head, his hair falling in front of his face.  “Nekoma is fine on its own.”

“Nekoma is good at creating poisons, and drugs,  Fukurodani is best at explosives, we can infuse poisons into the explosives…we could become unstoppable,”  the younger pressed their hips closer, his hand moving, lifting the older’s head, his hair falling away from his face.

“Unstoppable huh…and if I say no?”  Kenma’s lips twitched up, his eyes meeting steel gray.

“Then I’ll just have to win you over,”  Akaashi purred, leaning forward, there lips nearly touching as the sound of a gun cocked and loaded pressed against his back.  He moved, lifting his hands into the air as another gun was loaded. 

“Maybe it’s best you send an email, or letter to us instead on alliance instead of trying to attract our boss,”  Kuroo muttered, watching the younger turn towards him.  He could feel the barrel of Bokuto’s gun in his own back.

“I will,”  He smiled as the older lowered his gun from his chest, Bokuto following, placing them back into their holsters.  “I will be waiting for your answer,” he added turning back to Kenma.   “Maybe we can make a date of it.”

“Hmm…maybe,” Kenma hummed looking away as the Fukurodani mafia boss moved away from him.

“You’re not actually thinking of taking him up on his offer…” Kuroo frowned looking back, watching the two leave.  “We’ve only had one alliance, and you remember how that turned out.”

“A date sounds nice.”

“Kenma…”

[iwaishouto-blog]

here is a sweet sweet bokuaka that im writing because. .. . . .i miss writing fanfiction and i love bokuaka

if u like mafia and just some good angst and fluff and romance go ahead and uhhh give it a click leave a like u kno, yall do u i guess 

[annakaashi]

haikyuu halloweek day 5,6,7

an angel on my right, a demon on my left

what am I, your maid?

three times Kuroo annoyed Daishou and one time Daishou retaliated

@haikyuuhalloweek

[ao3feed-iwaoi]

When you were young...

Read this masterpiece on AO3 at https://ift.tt/JU61WpX

by Momo_667

- Little Kageyama Tobio meets little Hinata Shouyou

- Oikawa Tooru has to deal with Shiratorizawa

- Natsu and Shouyou go on a siblings date

- Oyabun Sakusa Kiyoomi has a meeting with the clan heads

Snapshots of Yakuza Haikyuu!

Words: 8483, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 3 of Mafia/Yakuza AU...♡

Fandoms: Haikyuu!!

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: Gen

Characters: Hinata Shouyou, Kageyama Tobio, Sugawara Koushi, Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime, Sawamura Daichi, Kuroo Tetsurou, Bokuto Koutarou, Kozume Kenma, Sakusa Kiyoomi, Akaashi Keiji, Shimizu Kiyoko, Hinata Natsu

Relationships: Hinata Shouyou & Kageyama Tobio, Hinata Shouyou & Sugawara Koushi, Hinata Shouyou & Kozume Kenma, Bokuto Koutarou & Hinata Shouyou, Hinata Natsu & Hinata Shouyou, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru

Additional Tags: mafia/yakuza, Assassins & Hitmen, Murder, Violence, Blood and Violence, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Guns, children assassins, Assassin Training, Karasuno Family, very foul language, Crow mama Sugawara, BAMF Hinata Shouyou, Mentions of Ushijima Wakatoshi - Freeform, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, No Beta, can you tell, Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Ship what you want they'll be moments with everybody

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/JU61WpX

[hykuluv512]

Love Amidst the War AU Akaashi & Yamaguchi

Summary:

Yamaguchi Tadashi is the elusive Redback Spider, an assassin who kills strictly on the command of Sawamura Daichi the leader of the Miyagi Crows. The recent death of the Fukurodani Owls' leader, Bokuto Koutarou, left a power vacuum in the Japanese Mafia that Daichi aims to exploit. Bokuto's predicted successor, Akaashi Keiji has become Daichi and the Redback's latest target. When Miyagi's Redback and Fukurodani's Akaashi cross paths their encounter is explosive.

Chapter 1 - Party Like There's No Tomorrow

It was a hot night in July when Akaashi first noticed Tadashi. It was a rooftop party. They had just finished a big job and the Owls were celebrating. He was telling war-stories with his buddies when he went to get a drink and passed by a man who glanced up at him, held eye contact for a long moment and flashed the cutest dimples Akaashi had ever seen. He did not smile in return and that seemed to make Dimples smile even bigger. With drink in hand, he returned to Kuroo who was an ally, a member of a friendly faction and a trusted compa. "Who's that guy?" He asked when he realized that he was still being watched. "He's a Crow." Kuroo raised his eyebrows and looked at the smiling, smaller man. "What's he doing here?" Keiji couldn't keep his eyes from sweeping across the room back to where this Crow was standing, talking to several other soldiers. "He's here for you." Kuroo said with mischief in his eyes. Clearly unworried as the much larger and highly skilled Akaashi could handle himself. "Really?" He smirked and looked down at the ground. "Well, there are worse ways to go," he thought. He stared hard, waiting for his would-be assassin to turn around. When the other man did, Akaashi was not disappointed to see those dimples crater inwards. Akaashi lifted his drink from the oak table and sauntered towards the Crow. Without stopping or bothering to turn around he gave a quiet affirmative when Kuroo asked if he knew what to do. Oh hell yes, he knew exactly what to do and couldn't fight the smile that broke out across his face when the smiling assassin grinned at him. Immediately intercepted by Suna, one of his most eager and ambitious

guards, he bit back an exasperated sigh when he heard, "Sir, that man is a Crow." Suna's voice lifted barely above a whisper and Akaashi patted him on the back. "Don't worry, I know." Suna risked a side glance to his boss's face, "Then you know why he's here. Who he's here for."

Akaashi, "Yes, of course I do." His guard had identified the Crow emblem tattooed on the assassin's left wrist. This emblem, filled in with a violent red, indicated he was a not only a Crow but a reaper which alarmed Suna who had heard chatter that the Crows had sought to exploit the lapse in leadership the Owls were currently experiencing after the devastating loss of their leader, Bokuto Koutarou. As the distance between the Owl and the Crow grew shorter with each long stride Akaashi took, Suna became increasingly desperate to intervene and protect his leader.

"Let me handle this for you, Sir," Suna practically begged, but Akaashi wouldn't hear it. "It's gonna be okay. Go on, Suna-san, have a good night."

"But sir..." Suna blocked his leader by slightly angling his body directly into Akaashi's path.

"You're dismissed." With that Suna walked past the smiling assassin and flashed his own silver as he passed him by. The assassin merely raised an eyebrow as though he was insulted but Suna didn't care, he wanted that man to be aware that he was keeping a close eye on things and he would be on him the moment he attempted to harm his boss.

The man with the dimples crossed the last few yards and stood face to face with Akaashi, "Your friend is not very hospitable." Smirking at the beautiful killer, Akaashi apologized for the hostility and offered a drink to make it up to him. He gestured at one of the cocktails servers who caught his eye when his guest accepted.

While they waited for the drinks, he asked, “Do you know who I am?”

Dimples cratered in amusement. "Ay ay, captain."

Akaashi chuckled, "I'm not the captain...yet."

The assassin casually sipped on his straw and said, "But you're gonna be. Do you know why I'm here?" He flashed playful eyes at Akaashi.

"You're here to stop me." Akaashi said, plainly as he casually sipped his cocktail, then asking, "Who's your boss?" under the assumption that he must work for Asahi Azumane if he was given this high-profile of a mark.

“Daichi Sawamura,” The dimples exploded as he watched Akaashi’s pupils blown for just a moment while he was outwardly calm. He found that extremely impressive, while most others would have signaled for help, not Akaashi. He took this information in stride, which the assassin found extremely sexy.

“It’s you..." Akaashi said referring to the infamous hitman, The Redback Spider. Momentarily meeting the worried eyes of Suna, who was standing fifteen feet from him, while giving nothing away.

Watching Akaashi intently with only a satisfied grin to confirm his identity, his eyes sparkled at being recognized for the danger that he presented, for the reputation that precedes him and for the fact that he was doing this in the Nesuto. Akaashi was convinced this small man had the biggest balls ever to come into Owl HQ and threaten the de facto leader of Fukurodani.

"I’m honored.” Akaashi said with a huge smile to match, while a cold shiver went through his spine. He’d never concerned himself much with his death. It was inevitable. Still knowing when and being able to anticipate his demise was a little uncomfortable.

The Redback Spider, an assassin who was up til now unknown, chuckled feeling high from revealing himself to his target, assured him, “The honor is mine, Akaashi Keiji." He bowed honorably but when he straightened up, the gleeful smile was back. He laid a hand on Akaashi's wrist and said, "But first, I have a question.”

“Are you gonna ask me how I wanna go?” Akaashi said playfully as he finished the last of his drink.

“Uh uh. I was gonna ask if you care to dance." The Redback drew a finger down the center of Akaashi's chest and pulled on his tie as he moved towards the packed rooftop dance floor.

A loud and surprised laugh burst from Akaashi's belly and he said, "What the hell," as he followed the Redback under Suna's anxious and Kuroo's amused eyes.

After an hour of dancing, the two took a break tucked into a table in the back where they could talk in private. He couldn't remember the last time he had this much fun. He usually just sat and drank at these parties but now his shirt was damp with perspiration and he felt loose and relaxed. Which was the complete opposite of what he should be feeling with this predator knocking at his door.

"Mmm they didn't exaggerate, you Owls do know how to party." The Redback wiped his neck with a damp towel.

"I was just thinking... I never do this. I haven't danced in so long, I think my moves are lame." Akaashi sighed watching all the writhing bodies moving to the reggaeton beat that the DJ was playing.

"Uh uh. Your moves are sexy." Yamaguchi said, leaning in and pressing a palm to Akaashi's thigh, inching up toward the bulge in his pants. "I like you, Akaashi. Tu as envie de coucher avec moi?" Tadashi said, lowering his lashes to reveal the gold shimmery liner that dotted the black along his lids. Akaashi was mesmerized, swallowing hard he lifted Tadashi's hand and rose from his chair.

"Come with me," said Akaashi.

"Lead the way,"said the Redback.

[mint-tan]

#bkaktober day 12: Mafia AU 🔫 ohgod i missed 6 days of inktober 😂😂