breaking and entering (yandere! Kuroo x fem reader)

21 || light

"I told you I'd be here tonight. Did I lie?"

Chuckling, you pulled him into another hug, "No. But I'm still scared that it's all just a dream," you confessed, bathing in the warm breaths that he let out against your ear.

"I volunteer to pinch you," his hands sneaked under your jacket, tickling the sides of your waist, squeezing ever so lightly to make you laugh harder.
It was a side that he revealed only around you - a touch, he'd ever only use with you. It was so different from the rough 'Iwa-chan' that hit Oikawa in the head, different from the 'Iwaizumi-san' that ruled the court with violent attacks - it was a raw Hajime. A sweet, loving, Iwa.

Catching your breath back, you found another chance to lock eyes. He traced all the way down from your shoulders and to your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours.
You gasped quietly, thinking of any possible way to hide the awkwardness, "Uh... Shall we go home?"

Iwa smiled once again. It was like he couldn't fight against his own face, or his own muscles. But seeing how you were struggling the same, he let a grin shine even stronger, "We definitely shall."

Hand in hand, you two chatted your way through the station, and the journey home. The nervousness slowly slipped off, letting you finally express all of the excitement nested in your heart - it felt so full it could explode at any given moment. So the words spilled like rivers, letters rolling off your tongue like summer hail, until you two found yourselves unpacking Iwaizumi's bag in your room, walking him around the house that you so desired would permanently be only yours and his; like a secure haven filled with affection and security.

As he showered, you hesitated before getting any sheets and covers out of the closet for him. Your eyes jumped from your bed to the soft comforter in your hands, and back to your own bed. It was too presumptious of you, and it felt even wrong.

Even if the two of you had already slept in the same bed in the past, under the light of the new circumstances you were scared of falling back into the rabbit hole of attention-seeking: even if you really wanted him to see you just as romantically as you saw him, you knew that to the male perception you had been dancing on the line between innocent seduction, and straight up giving your body away for a couple of caresses.

Being so caught up into your own thoughts, you couldn't notice Iwaizumi getting out of the bathroom, all clean and ready for a good night's sleep.

"(Y/n)," he called, snatching you back into the present, "what's wrong?"

"Oh," you pulled the comforter out of the closet, ready to defeatedly send him off to Kiyoshi's bedroom, "Where did you want to sleep?" You asked hesitantly, however, still silently praying for him to stay.

He immediately sensed something being wrong, "Can I sleep here?" He tapped lightly on the subject, choosing to tackle it from an unexpected angle, "On the ground would be good."

"Won't your back hurt, though?"

"Most probably."

"Do you want to sleep next to me, then? If it doesn't bother you, of course."
Your shaky voice glimmered with reticent hope, your eyes, however, giving you totally away.

"Since when did we start being so calculated?" He joked, pulling you with him among the soft drapes of the comforter. You two hid under it, however your bodies at a safety distance that he'd wisely thought of.

You sighed, trying to establish even just a subtle contact between you two. "Hug?"

"Hug."

The morning after, you two had woken up pretty late from a deep, peaceful slumber. After grabbing a quick bite from the train station's cafe, you showed Iwaizumi the way to the hospital that had your little brother in care.

You briefly explained his complicated psychological situation to Iwaizumi - there wasn't much to say about his broken legs, but Kiyoshi's psyche had been so heavily affected that he couldn't even talk anymore. 'Post-traumatic mutism's had been thrown around and entertained by all the doctors and pediatricians that had visited your brother.
But if they all agreed on the name of that silence, none had a cure to it, nor did they have a prevision for how long it would last.

But it took Iwa less than a few seconds to crack little Kiyoshi's stolid expression back to life. His eyes lightened up, however, he still struggled to do anything else of his face - until you noticed big, pearly tears hanging on from the sides of his big eyes. And like little snowballs, they rolled on his now deflated soft cheeks.

"Iwa."

It was as feeble as a murmur, but you swore you could hear a groggy child's voice articulating that one quick sound. Even he seemed surprised at the sound of himself speaking once again, but he immediately went back to his state of quietness.

But with a long lost smile and a hand-wave, Kiyo sent the two of you back home with light hearts and immense waves of relief.
He was healing.
Iwa healed you and the people you loved. And he was the one you loved.

As night seeped into your house, Iwaizumi was busy cooking dinner. You had no idea of what was releasing such powerful but mouth-watering smells from the stove, but if there was one thing you knew, was that his hands had been blessed by multiple talents. Others were still to be discovered, but you knew that he knew how to cook - not like Fukunaga, of course, but just enough to make your eyes turn into hearts as he confusedly passed from a pan to another.

Dinner was served, and altough the taste could - to a critic's tastebuds - be questionable, you basked in the flavors that his hands had so lovingly prepared for you. Over laughters and light memories another few hours flew away. And the delicate subjects were also being now inquired.

Iwa seemed to have an insatiable thirst for your life details, as he'd been questioning every single word you used. If you hadn't known any better, you would've though that he was being jealous - and having to exclude that possibility made your stomach sink slightly.

He couldn't have possibly ever liked you, right? This boy, that now fully resembled a man with the slight facial hair growing back in, had seen you at your weakest, and your most broken - there was no was he could find you even slightly attractive.

He'd always been the calm space in your life. And your life had always been a mess. There was no way in hell this man was wiling to call you his - and no way in hell he would be ready to give up on his peace to meet the hurricane of your existence.

He was the clear sky, and you were the hectic stormy clouds that were ready to flip the world upside down with their destruction.

It was normal of you to crave what you lacked - but you knew, you just knew, you two were meant for each other. The quiet and the storm were certainly two distinct aspects that were just as respectable on their own: but you truly believed that to appreciate one, you had to see the other.

And you and Iwa completed each other.

In the inviting intimate atmosphere of the table, you decided to finally voice the thoughts that would always keep you up at night because of fear, and those thoughts that would have you jumping just like a lunatic in front of your phone screen.

The courage just bubbled up from your heart, not leaving you space to let rationality take you back. Now, or never.

"Iwa?"

"Yes?"

"I like you."