Yandere! Kiyoomi Sakusa General Profile
Yandere! Kiyoomi Sakusa x fem!reader
TW: kidnapping, stalking, drugging, controlling behavior, Kiyoomi is secretly a wee bit of a misogynist, he makes a few comments about Reader's weight but there's no explicit descriptors, allusions to reader purposefully hurting themself, reader suffers a minor concussion but it was an accident, implied noncon, mentions of physical abuse, fem reader, MDNI
I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!
WC: 10K
DARLING PROFILE:
Considerate
Kiyoomi is not an especially generous person. Heâs civil, sure, and adheres to social customs enough to not be considered too rude, but heâs never really understood the need to stick out oneâs neck at the expense of others.
And so Kiyoomi is equal parts intrigued and frustrated by a darling whoâs empathetic and cognizant of othersâ desires and wants. He thinks itâs admirable, if not a bit naĂŻve, but itâs not until they stick their neck out for him that he really begins noticing them.
Itâs small things â offering him the package of communal sweets first so that he can have the first bite, their smile seeming too big when they tell him that they know he hates when other people touch his food first. Itâs the way they always ask about his day, asking about specific details when his blanket statement of fine doesnât seem to be enough.
(And specifically, itâs the way they ask about how he felt, rather than simply what he did. It makes him pause and think, glancing at them like theyâre crazy, but finding himself slightly intrigued because he canât remember the last time someone had asked about his feelings.)
It irritates him, more than anything, but as his friendship with them grows, Kiyoomi finds himself almost growing protective over how invested his darling is in others. Itâs dangerous to be so selfless, donât they know?
Theyâre practically asking to be taken advantage of, and while Kiyoomi tries to convince himself that he doesnât care in the beginning, it becomes harder and harder to maintain that air as his feelings slowly begin festering.
Itâs just a sign of stupid kindness, he thinks, but it nonetheless draws him in, desperation to be seen by his darling insatiable.
Smart
Unfortunately, Kiyoomi is a bit of a snob. And although his profession isnât exactly academic, he still likes to think of himself as a man with decent taste, or at least someone with a good head on his shoulders. And so, having a darling who is equally as intelligent is something that Kiyoomi absolutely must have.
He canât tolerate a ditzy partner, finding himself growing too irritated to stand being around them. Instead, he needs a darling thatâs quick-witted, perhaps even snarky like him to match his wit and challenge him intellectually.
Despite what proves to be a distinctly possessive and controlling edge in his relationship with his darling, he does truly find their intellect and ability to think for themselves wildly attractive.
(He limits this, of course, feeling that his thoughts and feelings are ever so slightly better for his darlingâs wellbeing, but itâs still a significant source of where his attraction is stemming from.)
And because Kiyoomi needs to have been friends with his darling for a significant period of time before his infatuation fully settles in, his darling needs to be smart enough for him to feel like theyâre an equal in a platonic, friendship-based setting.
They donât need to be a genius, but Kiyoomi respects those who are inquisitive and able to foster a healthy curiosity about the world around them. Itâs sweet, and while heâs never given much thought to having kids (because while he feels heâd be a decent father, heâs not sure if he could handle having such disgusting things latching onto his leg or drooling over his shoulder), the mother of his children absolutely must have a good sense of judgement and wits about her.
Itâs just so appealing to him, and even as his obsession festers and grows, eventually trapping his darling away, he still expects to see that fire in their eyes, loving the way they seem to understand what heâs thinking without him even needing to say it.
Flexible
Because Kiyoomi is so particular, in order to develop a friendship with him, his darling needs to be flexible. They need to be able to understand his preferences, and understand that heâs moody.
A stubborn darling that butts heads with him will only lead to Kiyoomi growing frustrated, and instead heâd prefer someone whoâs more complacent with his own desires. Itâs a trait that Kiyoomi is a bit embarrassed to say he finds attractive, if only because itâs an admission of knowing that he can be difficult to be around, but the comfort that his darling provides for him in this aspect is one that makes his feelings grow exponentially.
He wants to feel comfortable and cared for in their presence, and a darling thatâs willing to do whatever he would prefer not only soothes his anxieties, but it spoils him in a way that makes his heart flutter, his cheeks blooming ever so slightly pink and his palms clamming up a bit.
Itâs just so very sweet, and it leaves him feeling only more eager to be in their presence, desperate to spend every waking moment he can with them.
And as his infatuation continues, this is a key trait that allows his feelings to fester and grow to the degree of feeling constantly on edge without his darling in his sight.
Heâs able to insert himself into their life more easily this way, able to control every aspect of their life, keep them away from potential suitors, keep them looking at him and him only.
Clean
This one isnât as imperative, but similarly to matching his intellect, Kiyoomi appreciates a partner whoâs naturally cleaner. Heâs comforted by the knowledge that his darling isnât dirty, that when he gets brave enough to reach out and oh so carefully, hesitantly run his fingertips over the soft skin of their palm, that theyâve washed their hands recently.
He likes knowing that the wonderful, lovely scent of their hair is a mixture of their natural scent and shampoo, making his eyes roll to the back of his head because he just wants to keep inhaling and inhaling, breathing in as deeply as humanly possible to consume as much of them as he can.
Thereâs this subtle sense of pride that settles into his chest when he enter their apartment for the first time, pleased to see the way their living-space reflects his own â perhaps with elements of their personality, maybe more colors or patterns or photographs of friends and family, but itâs almost too easy to see himself pulling his darling into his side on the spotless sofa sitting in their living room.
Itâs disturbingly easy to fantasize about pulling the covers of their well-made bed over his head, black curls brushing against his darlingâs navel as he travels lower and lower, listening to their gasps and moans as he greedily laps at the spot between their freshly washed legs.
Itâs just reassuring, and it only pushes his obsession deeper because he takes it as yet another sign that he and his darling are entirely compatible, a perfect match that heâd be a fool to let go.
GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS:
Gradual
Despite his status as an internationally known professional athlete, Kiyoomiâs habits havenât changed much since his youth. Heâs still not especially interested in any sort of romantic relationship â heâs picky, incredibly so, and it takes him an extremely long time to feel comfortable enough with someone to actually be willing to be open and vulnerable with them.
(Particularly in the context of anything intimate â he needs to be very, very comfortable with them to reach the point where heâd willingly kiss them, touch them, or, god forbid, be inside of them.)
Heâs not fully against the idea, but heâs realistic enough to know that heâd be a hard partner to please, and he just isnât all that interested in finding someone. Heâs got his career to worry about, and with all the traveling he does and his own personal idiosyncrasies, it would just be easier to not have a significant other.
And frankly, this mentality sticks with him â you have to have known Kiyoomi for quite some time before he develops feelings for you. At the absolute minimum, he mustâve been truly friendly with you for three years; that way, he can solidly say he finds you tolerable, that youâre acceptably clean, not too annoying, someone he doesnât hate being around.
And even once his feelings begin forming, itâs a slow process â he doesnât just suddenly wake up and decide that heâs in love with you. No, itâs much more gradual, much more subtle â he doesnât even know itâs happening until itâs too late, after all.
It starts off as little things that he notices; a new haircut of yours (it was just a trim, something small and something even you had difficulty noticing) that he comments on absentmindedly, telling you it looks nice, this hairstylist is much better than the last one.
Heâll notice that youâve changed your style a bit; maybe you bought a new pair of pants and youâre a little nervous about wearing them because theyâre cute, but itâs a new color or a new cut or just a little bit outside your comfort zone. (Heâll blink and stare when you settle into the other chair at the cafĂ©, your nerves getting the better of you as you ask what heâs staring at, only to get the rather flat response are your pants new? I like them.)
He's always been observant, noticing little things about you, but normally theyâre things about your personality, or things about your likes or dislikes. He knows your favorite ice cream flavor, and which brands to avoid when heâs buying you some for your biweekly movie night (something you had to beg him to start, but now he finds himself looking forward to â enough that heâs counting down the minutes in practice that day, dark eyes glancing at the clock every few minutes and sighing lightly at how slowly time is moving).
Heâs always known you were a bit of a klutz, and that your spatial awareness leaves a lot to be desired, just because he knows you. Youâre tight friends, after all. But lately the things heâs been noticing are less platonic and less general, and more relating to your looks.
Heâs never noticed that you have a fleck of another color in your eyes â itâs pretty, and when you turn your head just right in the sunlight, it makes your eyes glow.
Heâs never noticed that you fill out your clothing very well; heâs gotten teased for spending so much time with you, sure, Hinata or Atsumuâs dramatic assertions about how the two of you must be more than friends always making him scoff and roll his eyes, disgusted by the implications. But now he finds himself wondering, late at night, with guilt gnawing at him, what it would be like to actually undergo those implications â being physical with you, that is.
His gaze is lingering on your pants a little more than usual, dark eyes staring just a hair too long at your ass, the jeans tight and accentuating every curve you have.
Heâll force himself to stop thinking about it, wondering where the hell that thought had sprung up from, rolling over in bed and shutting his eyes tightly, praying for sleep to come and for the images of the few, accidental times heâd seen you in your bra to stop flashing through his mind.
He notices that his thoughts towards you are changing a bit, but he tries not to think about it. Youâre friends â aside from Komori and his teammates, youâre his closest companion, and developing feelings for you would ruin the fragile thing you have. Except his denial of his feelings doesnât magically make them go away â heâs noticing how often he touches you, without even consciously realizing it. When you hand him some cash to repay him for some snacks he bought you, your fingers brush against his, and he actually freezes when he feels it.
(Your hands are so fucking soft â not hard and calloused like his, not rough and scratchy from years of smacking rock hard volleyballs.)
He never realized that he unconsciously let his hand rest on the small of your back when you guided him through crowds, trying to find the shortest route to minimize his discomfort. (Heâd always liked that about you â your acceptance of his dislike of large crowds and germs, never making him feel weird or like a freak for it. Youâd even shared an irrational fear or disgust of your own, just to make him feel better â it didnât, but he appreciated the sentiment.)
Small things begin compiling up for Kiyoomi â things heâd never really noticed or thought about before, but now seem to be at the forefront of his mind. And yet, he still represses his feelings â no, he doesnât want a girlfriend, and if he acknowledges his feelings for you, he'll want to push your relationship in that direction, to not suffer in silence because he wants more more more.
And yet, as time passes, Kiyoomi finds that he simply canât not acknowledge what heâs feeling â itâs too much, too strong for him to ignore. His heart physically aches when heâs not around you, his mind racing and whirring with thoughts of what youâre doing, how youâre feeling, who youâre with, if youâre thinking of him.
Itâs overwhelming, and it gets to the point where Kiyoomi literally cannot function without recognizing just how far gone his feelings for you are â it's effecting his playing, his relationships with his teammate, his eating habits, even his sleeping. Youâre just too all-encompassing, his feelings to fucking intense â intense enough to leave him staring at his ceiling night after night, the bright screen of his phone illuminating his bedroom as he scrolls through photo after photo after photo of you.
Always you.
Possessive
Kiyoomiâs feelings, while strong and nauseating and so, so very good, really end up intensifying to an unbearable level from a single, main cause â he absolutely cannot stand watching you interact with other men.
He canât repress the way jealousy claws at his throat, making his mouth taste sour and his gut twist because who the fuck is that man youâre talking to?
All it takes is one instance of a man flirting with you while Kiyoomi is present for these feelings to spark up â frankly, he's shocked that the man had the gall to approach you when youâre with someone as famous and handsome as Kiyoomi Sakusa, but perhaps heâd only felt confident enough because you were smiling at this stranger, standing close to him, laughing at a joke.
His fists clench up, dark brows drawing tight as he watches, the bustling cafĂ© too loud for him to pick out exactly whatâs being said. Seeing the way another man looks at you makes his gut sink, and even once you return back to him (with the food youâd ordered for both of you, since you know how much he hates talking to strangers), he canât shake off his sour mood. From that moment forward, Kiyoomi is forced to confront his feelings â specifically, the ugly, twisting mess of emotions he feels whenever youâre around another man.
He grows possessive of you remarkably fast, hating when your attention strays from him, particularly if the new target is another person. Another man, really. It makes all these insecurities begin sprouting up in his chest â things he thought heâd long moved past, doubts and self-criticisms that make him feel weak, helpless, pathetic.
When he sees you catch eye contact with the man passing you on the sidewalk, your smile and small good morning makes him think about whether this stranger can stand being in a crowd for longer than three minutes. (He probably can, something Kiyoomi canât â this man could take you to all those concerts you talk about, and he could take you to fun amusement parks and be in the crowd at sporting events and museums and all sorts of things that Kiyoomi canât.)
When he sees you laugh and apologize to the man you nearly ran over with your shopping cart in the grocery store, Kiyoomi canât help but notice how easily the manâs smile comes, his entire aura radiating positivity and happiness, the little tease and joke he makes in response to your apology making Kiyoomiâs hair bristle, unease sitting in his chest because no matter how hard he tries, he just canât be so carefree and socially comfortable.
(Would you prefer someone more confident and natural in social settings, someone who can make you laugh so easily and introduce himself to strangers, shaking their hand and telling them with any sort of honesty that itâs nice to meet them? Kiyoomi hopes not, please be no.)
He grows pessimistic at the prospect of you interacting with others, because Kiyoomi recognizes that he probably isnât your type. It makes him feel insecure, worthless, ugly, but more than anything it makes him panic, his fingers shaking and his knee bouncing because he absolutely cannot allow another man to come along and sweep you off your feet.
He needs to do something â and do it quickly, because youâre beautiful and gorgeous and funny and sweet and smart and so fucking perfect, and surely another man will realize that soon and youâll be gone forever, all while heâs left to watch and stand by, forever regretting that he let this happen. And so, Kiyoomi decides that his only option is to try and limit your time with other men â meaning, he needs to monopolize more of your time, keep you with him, your company limited to only your family, coworkers, and him.
Itâs the only way â and while heâs never been particularly subtle about anything, even you will be shocked at how blatantly he acts on this desire.
He's calling you up more, sending texts with flying fingers asking if youâre busy tonight, if youâd like to move your movie night up a few days, if youâd like to go get lunch at the ramen shop Bokuto wonât shut up about, if youâd like to stay the weekend with him at the VRBO heâd already rented on a beautiful little lake.
(He wonât tell you heâd chosen that one specifically because there was both a lake and a hot tub present, meaning heâd get to see you in your swimsuit hopefully more than once, but still.)
He becomes desperate to get your attention solely on him, and while youâll be surprised, you wonât give it too much thought. Kiyoomiâs always been a little strange, and if he wants to further your friendship, you wouldnât put up a fight.
But then heâs also scowling when you bring up the name of any other man, even when youâre alone â talking about any of your friends or any of his teammates gets him clenching his fist so hard his perfectly manicured nails dig into his palms, sometimes even pressing hard enough to draw blood.
Youâll notice his discomfort, the way he tenses up, how his voice gets terse and he talks less than normal, and when you ask him about it, heâll only bite out an I donât want to talk about another man with you. Itâs cryptic, kind of, and itâll take you aback, but youâll respect his wishes, mentally noting how odd his behavior is.
And really, thatâs how itâll all progress â youâll write off Kiyoomiâs strange, possessive behavior, which only makes him further push the envelope, not allowing you to talk about another man in his presence, or even look at them or stand close to one. Itâs too much, and itâll make you uncomfortable, but Kiyoomiâs too far gone.
And frankly, before you pluck up the courage to actually seriously confront him about it, itâs too late â your mouth is already being covered with the chloroform rag, your body going limp and landing in his arms, the sound of him deeply inhaling next to your hair and the low whimper he lets out making you dread when youâll awaken even more.
He just wants your attention on him, and even more than that, he canât accept the idea of you leaving him â youâre close, youâre friends, even though the word makes him spit, and he wonât let you leave him. You arenât allowed to, he wonât let you. So donât even bother trying.
Controlling
Tying into his more possessive traits, Kiyoomi slowly begins morphing into someone you hardly know.
He becomes blinded by his obsession with you, allowing himself to become more and more omnipresent in your life, worming his way into every little aspect of the way you live, from who you spend your time with to the clothing you wear. Though heâs not particularly subtle, the beginnings of his more controlling behavior will actually spark up long before he realizes how he feels for you.
Much before heâs come to the conclusion that he wouldnât mind waking up with you wrapped in his arms every morning, heâs telling you that you really should consider waking up at a more reasonable time. It doesnât matter if youâre a chronic oversleeper, or if you rise with the sun every morning â youâre always doing something wrong, really, and Kiyoomi will point it out to you.
(This is done in a genuine effort to get you to healthier, though. It doesnât really feel like it when heâs criticizing you for your lack or overindulgence in sleep, his words snarky and cutting, but the motivation behind his prodding into your sleep schedule is to make sure that your body is getting the appropriate amount of rest. To make sure that youâre taking care of yourself, really â because Kiyoomi simply doesnât trust that you know how.)
Long before he realizes that he wants to press kisses against the column of your throat and feel your soft, warm pulse underneath his lips, Kiyoomi recognizes that you donât take perfect care of your skin. You could always use a better moisturizer, a better toner, take more time in the mornings and evening to make sure your skin is glassy and smooth and soft.
(He wonât insinuate that youâre ugly, of course, because Kiyoomi is many things but not a liar. But that doesnât mean he wonât make comments about how he thinks youâve gotten more pimples recently because your creams are expired, dropping skincare recommendations on you unsolicited and without batting an eye. And when they arrive on your doorstep the next day, shipped with the fastest service possible that you know costs nearly double the regular speed, you canât even truly get mad at Kiyoomi â after all, his skin is perfect, and maybe he does know more about skin care than you do. The least you could do is try the new products, right? It would be rude not to.)
Heâs always been a bit controlling about how he wants things done, but where youâre concerned this is only amplified â itâs a response to caring about you more than anything. He loves you, feels such deep, horrible yearning for you that he feels he must have a say in your life. Heâs a successful man, with the last puzzle piece of his life missing being a sweet, loving wife who dotes on him and he on her in return.
And perhaps itâs a coping mechanism to make up for all the years of feeling ostracized, having minimal friends and even less romantic pursuits, finding himself suddenly feeling the pressure to make sure that everything is absolutely perfect because canât fuck up what he has with you.
Heâs become too dependent, too reliant on your presence in his life, and he becomes all-consumed and paranoid at the thought of accidentally doing something to dissuade you from wanting to spend time with him. He wonât change himself for you (or, at least, not too drastically â just enough to keep you interested in him, just enough to keep you in his life), but Kiyoomi is putting every possible effort into making sure that everything goes according to plan.
Expensive dinners are meticulously analyzed, dark brows furrowing at each potential obstacle as he mentally rehearses for the date.
(Heâll order to smoked fish fillet, and youâll have either the pasta or maybe the salad. But wait. Is it rude to recommend the salad to you? Would you perceive it as a comment on your weight? He wants to see you eating more vegetables, but he doesnât want you to think he finds your body displeasing â absolutely not, not when he spends most mornings with a hand pressed against the shower wall, water mixing with sweat and dribbling down the curves of his back, other hand feverishly pulling and tugging at his cock, your name slipping between his lips like some sort of prayer.)
He's planning out who will attend your wedding, the seating arrangements, the colors and flower choices, even what your dress will look like and how youâll style your hair. (It sounds sweet, really â except that it isnât, because if things donât go exactly how heâs expecting them to, Kiyoomi will panic, worry eating away at him because no no no! Everything needs to go according to plan, otherwise things will fall apart and youâll look at him with disappointment and just the thought is making it hard to breath and he needs to see you right now and reach out and touch you and hear you say his name fuck fuck fuck -)
He becomes overly concerned with every little behavior that you exhibit, always making a comment on this or that, his eagerness for your approval (and your obedience) making it difficult for him to notice the way you roll your eyes or how you hesitate, slightly offended at the way he tells you to stop eating like youâre poor, chew slower.
Everything is done with the intent of trying to better your relationship, to make sure the two of you are as compatible as possible, but the execution will leave you often times feeling as if heâs purposefully belittling you, your irritation and anger growing but then tapering out when he looks at you with those eyes.
Itâs hard to stay mad when youâre nearly his only friend, the authenticity in his voice when he says that he loves you making it hard to stay mad at one of your closest friends. Just donât say that â itâll have his eye twitching, something ugly clawing at his chest because in what fucking world are you two just friends?Â
DEALING WITH RIVALS:
As a general rule, Kiyoomi does not handle jealousy well. Heâs always been an envious person, but once his attachment to you forms and he becomes aware of just how badly he needs you â both emotionally and physically â his jealousy only increases, his intolerance of other people greedily sucking up your time lowering monumentally.
Because really, thatâs what it is, isnât it?
Other people â worthless, unknown, people who donât even really know you like he does â wanting your time and attention all for their own selfish, gluttonous desires. Itâs disgusting, frankly, how these people think they have any right to see your smile, to hear your voice, to feel your hand brushing against their own when youâre handing something to them.
(And oh, what an experience that is â Kiyoomiâs entire body stiffens up when he feels your skin against his, his mouth feeling dry and his pupils dilating because god, youâre so soft and warm and heâs never felt this urge before â the urge to reach out and take more, to keep touching you and feel his way up your arm, to press against the curving bones of your collarbone, to thumb over the plains of your ribcage, to take a handful and squeeze what heâs sure are two very, very soft and supple breasts⊠Just the thought has him breathing heavily, staring at you with this look that makes your skin crawl ever so slightly, the intensity and the concentration nearly scaring you.)
His possessive streak is bad enough that he finds himself actively seeking out men who may be interested in you when heâs in public with you â youâll be happily chatting away, animatedly waving your arms as you tell him about the latest episode of your show youâve been watching, and while he wants to be listening, to give you his full, undivided attention and watch the way your mouth moves when you speak, how your eyes light up, hear how you occasionally say his name, the lilting Ki-yoo-mi making his knees weak, he canât focus.
Instead, heâs glancing around the cafe youâre sitting in, mentally noting every man and what theyâre doing â thereâs a brunette in the corner with his laptop open, what looks like email after email being fired off with rapt, quick fingers flying over his keyboard.
An irrational pang of fear shoots through Kiyoomi â do you ever receive emails at such a rapid pace? How often do men email you, and is truly as professional as you claim? How well do you know the mind of a man looking at you as nothing more than a walking pussy?
Another man is sitting near the fireplace, his phone in hand a scowl sitting across his features. Heâs practically yelling into the receiver, telling off what Kiyoomi presumes to be his secretary because of some misplaced papers. Kiyoomi winces, grinding his teeth and clutching onto his coffee cup tighter because has any man ever yelled at you like that? Have you ever been screamed at, wrongfully blamed for something, or have you ever cried because of some horrible, lousy man?
(Kiyoomi isnât a particularly violent person, but the mental imagery of leaving the manâs face purple and blue makes something warm and fuzzy and good settle in his chest, a sense of satisfaction and a rush of adrenaline nearly making him dizzy.)
Even the cashier has Kiyoomi on edge â heâs smiling like an idiot, greeting each customer with that infuriating, chipper tone of his, and itâs immediately making your coffee partner irritated, wondering with only the smallest big of insecurity whether youâd like that more â someone more outgoing, someone more friendly, someone less difficult than him.
Every time he's with you, the constant feeling of sizing up the other men in the vicinity is always weighing him down, the fear that you could potentially lose interest in him and instead develop an attraction to someone else leaving his paranoid and quite frankly scared â you wouldnât leave him, would you? You wouldnât abandon him, would you?
The thought is enough to make him guide you towards a less crowded area, back towards his apartment, back to where itâs just you and him â how it should be.
Kiyoomi knows he shouldnât have let you talk him into coming to the supermarket. Thereâs a reason he pays for his groceries to be delivered to him â itâs too busy, too loud, too many unaware people walking around with no regard for personal space or respect. Itâs irritating, really, but youâd been looking at him with those pearly eyes and fucking pouting, and how could he have possibly said no to that?
Not when you were saying his name with that low tone of yours, practically purring it, making it nearly impossible for him not to snap and tangle his fingers into your hair, to pull you as close as physically possible and suck hickey after hickey into the sensitive, delicate skin of your neck. Heâd been a goner the moment youâd brought it up, and itâs only now, as heâs standing at your side in the bread aisle, that Kiyoomi feels the full regret of his decision.
After all, the rather attractive blond man at the end of the aisle certainly hasnât slipped his notice â the manâs tall (though not as tall as Kiyoomi, of course), decently muscular (though Kiyoomi knows he has much more definition in his quads, the lines dancing along his thighs and calves drool-worthy compared to the strangerâs), and staring rather intently at the shelved loaves in front of him.
It makes Kiyoomiâs eye twitch; heâs purposefully placed himself between you and the stranger, hoping that this vantage point blocks as much of the man from your view as possible. Youâre too engrossed in your selection process to really notice, Kiyoomi knows, but that doesnât stop him from worrying, the nagging voice in the back of his head urging him to minimize your chances of even acknowledging this mildly attractive stranger.
Heâs still got that familiar unimpressed look in those dark eyes (mixed with a touch of adoration as he watches you bite your lip and furrow your brows, the sight pulling at his heart and almost, almost making him forget all about his jealousy), and that look only darkens as he hears footsteps on the linoleum flooring behind him.
He moves closer to you, opening his mouth to tell you that you should just grab the nearest loaf and leave, but the man beats him to it. His voice is timid, scared, even, and for just a split second it leaves Kiyoomi feeling smug â for all this manâs physical attractiveness, surely you wouldnât want such a meek, submissive man. Not when you could have someone like Kiyoomi â someone stronger, more masculine, more dominant, more of a man.
The manâs question is innocent, all things considered â he reaches towards the loaf of bread youâd already stashed away in your shopping cart, pointing a finger and asking where did you find that?
Immediately Kiyoomiâs stiff, every muscle in his body going taut because no matter how you react to the manâs question, he wonât like the result. Your mouth parts into an adorable little âoâ that gets Kiyoomi biting his lip, before you smile and point towards the opposite end of the aisle, answering with a chipper, oh-so-fucking-cute response of right down there!
Kiyoomiâs brows knit together as the man thanks you, moving forward to go in search of the loaf youâd guided him towards. As the man passes, those dark eyes settle on his figure, leaving him to pick up his pace, the heavy weight of Kiyoomiâs stare making him noticeably uncomfortable.
As soon as the man is out of earshot, Kiyoomi snatches your wrist, his grip tight and making you nearly wince, his other hand reaching out to grab the loaf youâd been eyeing. Come on, weâre leaving, is all he says, walking with purpose in the opposite direction of the man.
Youâre out of the grocery store before you can blink, Kiyoomi slipping his credit card back into his wallet and guiding you towards his car. Youâre confused, really, and as you blabber on about how he didnât need to pay for your groceries and ask about whatâs gotten into him, Kiyoomi can only usher you into the front seat, throwing the grocery bags into the trunk and taking a final glance around him. The man seems to still be in the store, and Kiyoomi clicks his tongue, a small pang of relief racing through him.
As he settles into the driverâs seat and puts the car into reverse, he glances over at you, soaking in the sight of you in his car with his old sweatshirt on. His lips quirk up at the edges, the smile small, before stepping onto the gas, driving away from the store and trying to forget the sight of your smile being aimed at someone else.
He grips the steering wheel hard, focusing on the sound of your voice to calm him â your voice saying thank you for the ride, Kiyoomi, youâre the best.
(A sound replaying over and over and over in his head later that night, with the too-bright screen illuminating your photographed face and casting shadows over his naked body covered in a light sheen of sweat. The best, huh?)
TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:
Really, as soon as Kiyoomi realized that his feelings for you were something so much deeper than he could ever imagine, heâd begun planning for your eventual relocation to his home. Thereâs a variety of reasons why heâs so eager, so insistent: itâs easier, and it makes more sense.
Because really, while Kiyoomi doesnât want to steal you away, he doesnât really have much of a choice, does he? Youâre too independent for your own good â youâre always going out and doing things, seeing people, putting yourself in a position not only of meeting potential love interests, but also one of danger.
 Kiyoomi rationally knows that youâre strong and can make informed decisions, but thereâs a part of him that slowly grows to doubt your abilities. Itâs not that youâre incapable, but more like you arenât the most qualified to make choices about your own health and life.
And really, doesnât it make more sense for him to guide you? Kiyoomi, who is successful, wealthy, the pinnacle of health and fitness, and much more calm and collected than you. Surely he knows better â and youâd agree, wouldnât you?
You always seem to support his choices, laughing and telling him that heâs so predictable and logical whenever he rants about his teammates and general annoyances. You always sound so in awe of him, the praise and tone going directly to his head, making his palms feel a little clammy and his voice getting a little hoarse because oh, being seen and complimented by you feels very, very good.
And so really, it only makes sense that Kiyoomi steals you away â heâs already controlling, but he isnât with you at all hours of the day, and can you really be trusted to be constantly making smart, responsible decisions every waking moment?
You donât know whatâs best for you, and in order to have you in peak health and keep you utterly, completely his, this is the only way. But to Kiyoomiâs credit, he gives you ample opportunity to willingly come to him. His attempts to ask you out are, objectively, not particularly romantic, but his requests for you to stay the night are met with little resistance from you.
Itâs typical, after all, for you to stay over at his place in his spare bedroom after youâve drunk just a bit too much, sleeping off the tipsiness because Kiyoomi will be damned before he lets you out on the road in the wrong state of mind.
(Not for the safety of others, of course â solely for you, because if you were to get injured or, god forbid, die, Kiyoomi genuinely thinks he may never recover, the pain and guilt of losing you driving his mad with grief. Besides, you look very, very enticing all tangled up in his spare sheets, your pretty body so scantily clad in the t-shirt heâd loaned you and a pair of workout shorts that ride very, very low on your hips. Enticing enough to have him standing in the doorframe of the room, entirely motionless as he watches you slumber, swallowing thickly and not letting his eyes drift from your form for sometimes hours on end, just watching and waiting.)
But then those requests to spend the night start happening more days out of the week than youâre comfortable with, happening multiple nights in a row, so much so that youâre starting to spend more time at Kiyoomiâs place than your own â and so when you start denying his requests, he resorts to one final tactic.
Of course, it doesnât feel good to be unscrew a few things under your bathroom sink as he âuses the restroomâ, but itâs necessary. When you call in a panic later that day about how your apartment is flooded and your landlord is furious over the water damage, Kiyoomi will try his best to be sympathetic, to not sound as flat and mildly pleased when he offers to let you crash at his place for a few days until it all gets sorted out. Heâll mess with your piping first, then your thermostat.
(Heâll tell you on the phone that losing your heating during the height of winter isnât a joke, I donât care how many blankets you have youâll still freeze to death â and whoâll have to organize your funeral? Me, so donât be selfish.)
Then heâll go so far as to start stealing things out of your apartment â of course, heâs always been a bit heavyhanded in âborrowingâ your things (mostly inconsequential things that he knows you wouldnât notice, like little knick-knacks or pairs of clean socks â things that make him feel more connected to you and are the perfect size to fit underneath his pillow at night, of course), but then he starts looting away more serious items. Your books go missing, your jewelry, cups from your cupboards, even going so far as to steal your laptop or your speakers or anything else he knows youâll miss.
And when youâre running to him and telling him that someoneâs targeting your apartment, that youâre feeling unsafe, that you think someoneâs been repeatedly robbing you and breaking into your apartment, he'll only sigh and tell you that youâd be stupid to not live with him for a while, that youâre practically asking for death by staying in that tiny little thing you call an apartment for any longer.
And in the event that youâre still planning on living on your own after all these attempts to force your dependence on him, Kiyoomi will see no other option â having you live with him is like his own personal heaven, and heâll be damned if he loses the feeling of falling asleep under the same roof as you, of hearing your pretty snores and seeing the peaceful expression on your face as you slumber.
Youâre just too damn perfect, and so you really, really shouldnât be too surprised when Kiyoomiâs got the rag held over your nose, his words cold in your ear as he tells you to stop struggling, youâre only making this harder. After all, heâs made himself perfectly clear â itâs not his fault you didnât pick up on the signs.
As a captor, Kiyoomi retains a lot of his mannerisms from before stealing you away. Heâs still a bit harsh with you, his tongue biting and cold, but the difference becomes that Kiyoomi doesnât bother trying to hide the nature of his feelings anymore.
Youâd been aware that his interest shifted from a more platonic to romantic nature sometime along the way, but now thereâs absolutely no way to misinterpret his actions â not when heâs resorted to making you sit so close to him on the couch, those dark eyes expectant when you donât immediately shuffle into his side. Heâll stare for a while, before sighing, like itâs all some big chore, then grabbing you and forcing you to practically sit in his lap, all the while grumbling about you being so damn difficult, arenât women supposed to love cuddling?
Heâs making you take all your meals with him, forcing you to sit at the modest wooden dining table, the rather bland meal of white rice, fish and a roasted, unseasoned vegetable looking less appetizing with every day.
(He wonât let you cook, however â his protective tendencies show most when it comes to you being in the kitchen, if only because he doesnât trust you to not injure yourself. Thereâs just too many possibilities â you could cut yourself, burn yourself, use the cheese grater or the potato peeler to tear off a layer of skin, you could squeeze lemon juice into your eyes or get jalapeno residue at your waterline. Thereâs just too much that could happen, and while Kiyoomi would absolutely love to have you entirely dependent on him if you were to become injured, the idea of knowingly letting you hurt yourself makes something bitter tinge in his mouth, his legs getting restless and his fingers twitching because he needs to do something to prevent that from happening.)
Heâs curating a wardrobe for you, making sure to dress you in his favorite colors, rich fabrics, comfortable designs, things that he thinks will make you happy but still fit his tastes. (And besides, youâve always complimented him on his own fashion choices â surely youâd trust him on this too, right?) Thereâs lots of complimentary colors and designs to match his own clothing, enjoying the way you two look right when youâre together, a smile gracing his lips and prompting him to twirl a lock of your hair around his finger, bringing it up to his lips and letting his tongue dart out ever so quickly, just to catch a small taste of you.
Heâs controlling, always dictating what you do, what your plan for the day is while heâs gone, but itâs always done with the intention of trying to keep you safe and what he hopes will make you happy.
Heâs investing a large portion of his very generous salary to getting the best supplies of any hobbies you have (as long as they revolve around music, art, anything that couldnât possibly hurt you), always demanding you show him the progress youâve made that day. Itâs a desire to get you to interact with him, but it also makes pride swim in his gut to know that youâre getting better using the things he bought for you.
(And perhaps, thereâs even some small part of you thatâs improving to impress him⊠Just the thought makes him gulp heavily, having to shift his pants ever so slightly because the idea of you wanting to impress him, to seek his approval, to make him happy gets him hot under the collar.)
Life will become very monotonous with him. Itâs a routine, with any deviation planned out in advance, Kiyoomi finding comfort in the order and consistently. It helps quell the anxiety stirring in his gut when heâs away for tournaments or away-matches, his knee always anxiously bobbing as he imagines what youâre doing.
Heâll whip his phone out nearly ever five minutes, tapping into the multitude of cameras he has set up around the apartment just to keep an eye on you, visibly relaxing when he sees you tucked up into bed, stepping out of the shower, or even reading on the sofa.
(Heâs harsher than normal when Hinata bounces up and asks what heâs looking at, his words dripping in an extra layer of venom as he tells his fellow spiker to get away from me, itâs a private matter. Because heâll be damned if he lets anyone see you in any sort of intimate, raw way â youâre for his eyes only, and Kiyoomi would rather cut off his left hand than let the redhead get even a glimpse of you.)
Kiyoomi is omnipresent, a trace of him present in every aspect of your life, and while itâs exhausting, humiliating, enraging, youâll eventually grow tired of trying to rebel. Heâs a patient man, but you can only handle so many derogatory comments, so many failed escape attempts (he has the best, most up-to-date security measurements around the apartment, of course) before you decide it may be better to simply accept this as your new fate.
After all, Kiyoomi isnât that bad, right? Youâd been friends for years â you know heâs a good person, and perhaps this is just a lapse in his judgement. Maybe heâs not thinking clearly. Maybe heâll lose interest in you, or decide that what heâs doing it wrong.
Youâll cling onto the hope, repeating the mantra over and over in your head, but by the fifth year of living under his lock and key with a baby nursing at your breast, itâll be very, very difficult to pretend that this isnât your reality.
So really, itâs in your best interest to just accept him, to accept this â youâll be happier this way. He promises. Â
PUNISHMENTS:
In general, Kiyoomi is actually remarkably patient with you. Somewhere deep down, below all of the twisted, dark manifestations of his feelings, he does truly love you. And while his controlling behavior and the way he expects you to give him all of your time, attention, energy, and focus is exhausting and at times dehumanizing, Kiyoomi never truly wants to hurt you.
And as a result, itâs unlikely that heâll ever lash out in a way more substantial than verbally. Heâd never physically hurt you, as seeing you with even the slightest discoloration or bruise makes him near inconsolable, anger seeping into every part of his body because you absolutely cannot be hurt, not when heâs the one whoâs supposed to be your perfect, caring, protective partner.
He wonât take away your basic rights, either â though, in all fairness, theyâre effectively gone once he realizes the depth of his feelings for you. He forces you to spend all your time with him, share meals and wear the clothing that he picks out for you, and so aside from forcing himself to be present while you relieve yourself or perhaps feeding you with his own hands, there really arenât too many personal rights that he could take away even if he wanted to.
Kiyoomi does have a tendency to be a bit mean when he gets frustrated or afraid, however. Youâve always known this about him â his snarky personality is what initially drew you to him as a friend, but thereâs something more cutting and biting about the way it feels when heâs looking at you with a mix of such devotion and anger, the love pooling in those dark eyes scaring you even more than the way they crinkle at the edges, wrinkling dotting his forehead as he frowns and scoffs at you.
Itâs hurtful, really, when he makes comments about things he knows youâre insecure about â perhaps your weight, your smile, your curves, your laugh, your intelligence, anything and everything because he needs to make you understand how youâre making him feel, how it hurts him just as much as it hurts you.
Itâll make your eyes sting, the venom in his voice enough to make you crumple in on yourself, and itâs only after Kiyoomiâs left and calmed down enough to breath normally again that he realizes just how truly devastated his comments make you. Heâs softer, after that, approaching you with shaking hands and a tone thatâs laced with something almost akin to fear, calling your name and pretending that it doesnât slice through something soft and vulnerable and weak inside him when you flinch at his touch.
Heâll be kinder after that, spoiling you with your favorite foods (even the unhealthy ones, which would normally never be available to you, what with Kiyoomiâs obsession with keeping your diet squeaky clean), watching hours upon hours of your favorite movies and shows, even material purchases of new clothing and expensive jewelry.
Itâs not enough to truly make you feel better, but as time passes and the realization that Kiyoomi is truly all you have in this lonely penthouse apartment of his, youâll grow to appreciate it, even if his words still echo in your head.
But really, what primarily sets Kiyoomi off is your disobedience â his controlling tendencies are so ingrained into him by the time that heâs stolen you away permanently into his home that he simply cannot handle when you arenât utterly compliant with his every whim and wish.
In his fantasies of you living with him and staying by his side, fueled by possessive need, youâre always so eager to please, doing anything and everything you can to make Kiyoomi happy. And when you contrast this idealized version of your behavior, itâs a rude awakening for him that you arenât truly happy with him yet, that things arenât as perfect as he wants them to be. And so, as a defense mechanism he lashes out, spitting out words and lies that make both of your hearts hurt.
But truly, what really warrants the term âpunishmentâ is what happens when something even bigger happens â when you hurt yourself. It doesnât even have to be purposeful; it still results in utter, blind panic consuming him, his heart racing in his chest and a cold sweat dripping at his brow because youâve somehow managed to cut your thumb while he was at practice.
It makes him see red, desperation tinging his movements, making his hands tremble and his feet practically flying as he rushes you into the bathroom, applying too many anti-bacterials and wrapping your thumb tightly enough to nearly cut off the circulation. Itâs pure, unadulterated dread that seeps into his bones, a panic like heâs never felt before, and this leads to the most extreme reaction Kiyoomi will have to your behavior â that is, he doesnât like slipping the pill into your food, but your body needs time to rest. You need time to rest. He needs time to simply hold your limp, unconscious body in his arms, clutching onto you like a lifeline and pressing you as tightly against his body as possible just to prove to himself that youâre here, that youâre alive, that you havenât left him.
Kiyoomi doesnât necessarily like drugging you, but itâs the only way to keep you from hurting yourself again for the next day or so, the only way to make sure you donât have a repeat offense.
You hadnât meant it â really, you swear you hadnât â when youâd left the shower curtain a little too open. The water wasnât supposed to be splashing out and leaving a puddle directly outside of the tub.
You know how Kiyoomi gets â irritated by the mess, those dark eyes clouding and frustration settling across his features because youâre so damn clumsy, canât you notice when the shower curtainâs wide open? As you glanced at the clock sitting against the stark white walls of the bathroom, you bit your lip. He would be home any minute now from practice, surely needing to be in the exact space you currently were, aching to get every bit of sweat off his skin.
The towel clutched in your hand wasnât absorbing as much as you needed it to, the gray already turned a dark, near black color despite how much water was left on the tiled ground. Cursing, you sat back on your heels, resigning yourself to needing to dirty another one and having to deal with Kiyoomiâs multitude of questions.
But as you shifted your weight, hands braced against your thighs to sit up, the sudden impact of the back of your head against the edge of the marbled countertop make you cry out, the stinging sensation followed by a dull thud making you collapse down. Clutching at the injured area, tears pricked at your lashes, body curling up into a feeble position despite the water now absorbing into the freshly clean clothing youâd just changed into.
Your vision was hazy, everything looking warped and bent, and you only very distantly hear the sound of the multitude of locks on the front door opening, Kiyoomiâs grumpy Iâm home resounding through the apartment. His footsteps are heavy as he wanders through the rooms, slowly growing in speed and weight as he begins worrying, unable to find you.
But you do hear when he gets to the bathroom doorway, wide gaze catching sight of your curled-up form and the slew of curses falling past his lips as he immediately drops his bag and stumbles down to you. Youâre clutching your head and through your bleary eyes you can see the way all color has drained from his face, eyes blown wide.
He doesnât bother asking what happened as he scoops you into his arms, adrenaline coursing through him and forcing him to run through the apartment to your shared bed, settling you down as gracefully as possible. Before you can orient yourself heâs already pressing cold cloths against your scalp, shoving thermometers into your mouth and compulsively checking your pulse points, terror still running through him.
Heâs muttering under his breath, what sounds like your name mixed with mantras of sheâs okay, sheâs okay, sheâs okay, though it sounds less like a statement and more like a hope.
It doesnât take long for you to slip into unconsciousness, only being awoken a while later by Kiyoomiâs thumb stroking at your cheek, his eyes red and watershot, as if heâd been crying. Drink this, he tells you, holding a glass of what looks like water out to you.
When you donât move, he grimaces. Please.
Your sips are slow, your head feeling like cotton, and Kiyoomi watches with baited breath, a hand still placed high on your thigh over the covers of your shared bed.
Those dark eyes are still fixed on you as you lean back, sudden exhaustion rolling through you, your own eyes fluttering closed once more. Itâs hard to tell how long youâve been out once you wake up, but itâs early morning now, from the looks of the barred window, and as you slowly come back to consciousness, trying to ignore the sharp pain in your head, you notice Kiyoomi standing at the end of the bed, seeming to loom over you.
He doesnât say much, only rushing forward to grasp at your hand and once more check your pulse, sighing with relief when it comes back steady and normal. He doesnât let go for a long time, still silently staring, watching the way you squirm and wince as your headache throbs. And when you eventually wander out of the room that night to see him making dinner, you wonât bother asking why the calendar shows that two days have passed, nor why there seems to be a thick rubber padding on every desk, table, and counter corner you see. Itâs not worth it, really, because you already know the answer.
And as Kiyoomi spots you, the small smile that spreads across his lips makes your skin crawl, your thighs shifting weight as the lacy panties you know you didnât have on previously tickle against your skin.
Sit down, love, dinner is ready.
And he can only smile when you do, something flickering in his heart at the sight of you looking at him with wide eyes, all confused and pretty and so very pliable. Sure, your concussion is no small injury, but the way youâd been sleeping so soundly in his bed, the smallest snores slipping past your lips and your body seeming to mold against his when heâd pulled you against his chest made him almost grateful for your clumsiness.
Stupid girl, he chides to himself. This is why you need me, canât you see?
OVERALL DANGER:
8/10
 While Kiyoomi himself isnât inherently dangerous, what makes him such an intense yandere is his blatant disregard for hiding his feelings from you. He doesnât care whether you see how deeply obsessed with you he is, whether you become aware that he wants nothing more than to keep you with him forever and ever.
Kiyoomi is resourceful and follows through with his plans and goals, so once youâve gotten his attention, you can kiss any ounce of freedom goodbye. Heâs controlling and possessive, and itâll almost feel like you arenât even yourself anymore, but Kiyoomi will always be there - looking down at you with an impossible to read expression, before a small flush will coat his cheeks and heâll gently flick your forehead, telling you that he loves you and that heâs happy to have you with him, where you belong.
Of course, itâs not like you have a choice in the matter, but thereâs something deliciously pleasant about pretending that you want to be here, something that makes his heart race and blood rush to both his cheeks and between his legs.
Kiyoomi is a tricky case, because your initial friendship with him and the odd charm of his strange idiosyncrasies will leave you naively blind to the way he slowly devolves into a deeper and deeper state of obsession. You canât see the way he begins losing himself, all his time and focus beginning to shift only to you, and by the time you truly realize just how far gone he is, itâs too late to get away from him.
Because Kiyoomi has thought of absolutely everything â itâs practically impossible to get away from him, and really, can you so easily disregard years of friendship once the warning signs become clear? Are you so inhuman and cold as to pull away from your closest friend once he starts acting strange?
Perhaps youâre the crazy one here â a sentiment that Kiyoomi will only encourage if it means getting you to touch him, if it means you saying yes to spending the night at his apartment, if it means you say yes when he tells you that pregnancy would suit you.
But really, it doesnât matter â after all, youâre Kiyoomiâs now, and absolutely nothing will change that.
