#the plant is the yew tree which has a meaning of death and resurrection in Celtic culture

[onigirintarou]

Congratulations on your milestone, Hazel! You absolutely deserve a 100 followers and it is always such a pleasure seeing you on my dash 💜💜💜

And I would love to join your event! Can you maybe do Kuroo + Hecate (she always seemed like such a cool, badass goddess)? Since Hecate is typically associated with the night, do you think you could maybe write a drabble where reader and Kuroo get into some fun late night shenanigans and they both realize their feelings for one another? Thank you!

Late Night Drives

WC: ~900 CW: nothing, this is straight up fluff, Kuroo can't drive

“Kuroo, you really have to loosen up a bit,” you can’t help but mention after looking over at the driver’s seat to find your friend with his arms straight out and his hands exactly at 9- and 3 o’clock positions on the steering wheel.

“What do you mean? I’m loose! I’ve never been looser!” his voice continues to rise in pitch. “See this?” he says as he takes his left hand off the wheel. “So loose!”

You raise a brow at his antics. He was clearly losing it, if he ever had it to begin with.

The car begins to swerve left and right as he struggles to maneuver with only one hand on the wheel.

You would be more scared, but this is the fifth late night driver’s ed session you’ve held for your friend. Near death experiences were pretty much old hat by now. Getting flashbacks of your life got old quickly after the second time Kuroo nearly caused both of you to crash into a median.

“Kuroo,” you say sternly. “Put both hands back on the wheel.”

“Aye aye cap’n,” he responds shakily as his left hand darts back to the wheel. His knuckles turn white as he holds the steering wheel in a death grip.

You sigh in your seat as the car’s path stabilizes.

He spares you a quick glance. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too. I don’t know how I can help you any better.” Your hand absentmindedly makes its way to pat the top of his thigh and the next thing you know your whole body is jerking to the side as Kuroo makes an abrupt stop at the side of the road.

“What the-?!” but before you can finish the expletive, he cuts you off.

“You make me nervous, okay!” he exclaims as he unbuckles his seatbelt.

You nearly sputter. “What?”

He shuts his eyes and groans into his hands. “I cannot believe I just said that.”

“Neither can I,” you respond. “Am I that bad of a driving instructor?”

He groans again. “No, it’s not that at all! Kenma was right.”

You lean over to rub small circles onto his right shoulder. “Hey, I’m sure he was but right about what?”

He mumbles something under his breath.

“You’re going to have to speak up, pal,” you tell him.

He takes a deep breath. “I’ll tell you, but I need you to drive me home so that if you take what I’m about to say like how I think you’re going to take it, I can just turn tail and run up to my apartment.”

You hold his gaze and can see the uncharacteristic fear and nervousness behind his eyes. “Alright,” you unbuckle your own seatbelt and open the door.

Silence from Kuroo Tetsurou is not something you’re used to, but you’ve driven for about twenty minutes now and the only thing that’s been keeping you company has been the sound of the radio. You’ve always loved driving, especially without the hustle and bustle of the typical daytime Tokyo traffic. Driving calmed you down, but with the oppressive silence, you can’t help but find your thoughts scrambling. What was it that he wanted to wait to tell you?

“You make it seem like magic,” he finally comments as you pull into his apartment’s garage.

“Driving?” you ask and he nods. “Well, it wasn’t always like this, but the more you do it, the more confidence you get. I know you’ll get there eventually, and even if you decide driving isn’t for you, you know I’m always willing to drive you around.”

He chuckles wryly. “You might want to reconsider that after what I tell you.”

You grasp his hand in yours. “I promise you I won’t.”

He gives you a weak grin before entwining your pinky with his.

“I think I might have non-platonic feelings for you,” he finally blurts out.

You’re glad you’ve already parked because you’re sure that you would have crashed your car.

“Define non-platonic.” He gulps as your eyes search his.

He groans and covers his eyes. “I don’t know. I think I’ve felt this way for a while now,” he starts. “But I look at you and I just feel like I belong. I want to go on dates where we argue about who’s going to pay. I wanna go on drives where I can keep one hand on the wheel because the other is holding yours.”

You don't know how to respond, so you don't.

"And now I've just gone and made a mess of things haven't I?" he mumbles morosely.

Your hands move to gently pry his from his face. You gently tilt his head so that he’s left with no other choice but to face you.

“Do you want to kiss me too?” you can’t help but ask with a teasing grin.

“You’re the worst!” he exclaims. He tries to move his hands back to cover the blush on his face, but you keep them in yours. “I can’t believe I’m pouring my heart out to you, and you think it’s a good time to joke around!” he complains with a pout.

You give his hands a soft squeeze as you laugh at the adorable flush on his face. “I’ll tell you a secret too. It's only fair after all,” you say as you lean in.

“I’d like to kiss you,” you whisper.

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