breaking and entering (yandere! Kuroo x fem reader)

4 || you

Kuroo stood at his front door going through the freshly printed pictures in his hands, gaze lingering on each enough to take in the most number of details of your immortalized figure. The corners of his lips raised slightly when he found his favorite picture of you - it wasn't anything too lewd or exposing: you were simply crouched down to pet a little black cat, a (f/c) scarf around your neck.
He gently caressed the glossy image, absently tracing the outlines of your figure, lost in his thoughts.

He felt somewhat jealous of the sweetness and care you were showering the little cat with, but still, he found that caring side of yours endearing and real, raw. You naively gave away so much love to your surroundings, and Kuroo just wanted to make sure no one could ever taint that innocence. He wanted to protect you.

Or at least, that was how he tried to justify that sudden and all-encompassing infatuation to the more rational part of his brain. In truth, he wanted to be part of that aforementioned love you spread so unpretentiously - he desperately sought your attention. He too wanted to be babied sometimes, have someone in whose arms he could take shelter and in whose lips he could find the safety of a home. And that someone happened to be you - you had everything Kuroo could ever wish for. You could be his home.

With one last longing sigh, the boy hid all of the photos in his schoolbag before getting into his house. He then quietly closed the door and put his shoes aside, readying himself for the small interaction of the day with his mother.

Kuroo went to look for his mom and found her sitting in the living room, cigarette in hand as she puffed heavy blows of white smoke. She lazily turned her amber eyes to her son, smiling at him lifelessly with full lips all smeared with red lipstick.

Some things never really change, huh?

"Oh, hello dear," she greeted him, putting the cigarette out in an ashtray already full with kissed stubs, "had a nice day?"

"Yeah, thanks," he answered bluntly, drumming his fingers on the doorframe. The lower half of his body was already facing the staircase.

She nodded absently, eyes darting from one side of the room to the other, craving another cigarette. Kuroo observed as she fought that need and instead took off her black blazer and threw it over the sofa's backrest, completely unfazed as she lay down. Loose strands of hair fell onto her face, branching out like black cobwebs - an elegant view that resembled the spiders' glassy threads lacing a withered rose. And even though her now droopy features revealed great pain, her face still held that proud beauty she carried in her youth.

"Ok then, go back to whatever you wanted to do," she chased her son away waving her hand, accidentally knocking over a half-empty pillbox, "Ugh, shit."

He nodded vigorously, letting a mocking chortle escape from his lips, "Yeah, sure."

Kuroo left his mom in her lifeless state on the couch and headed upstairs to his room. He was used to this insignificant daily interaction, so he didn't really worry much about the helpless woman lying on the sofa. It was routine. And by then he had given up hope that her motherly instincts would magically arise from one day to another.

He got the key of his door out from under a big plant pot in the hallway, then locked himself inside his room to get his work done without any intrusion.

He went to the closet and rummaged a bit as he looked for an empty box, then got a big carton out of the limited space and blew the layer of dust on the surface away, watching as the hypnotic swirls of grime twirled in the cold air of his room.

Turning the box around a couple of times in his hands, he thought smugly about the many things it could and was actually going to hold. Chapstick, hair ties, clothes, used lingerie - you name it, he was going to take it.