Game of the Insane (Yandere Haikyuu!! x F!Reader Oneshots)

ENTRANCE (Tsukishima Kei)

This was requested on Quotev!

Also, the way Tsukishima finds Reader's location is based on a true story of how a psycho fan found and stalked a Japanese Pop Star named Hibiki Sato.

Title: Infect

Pairings: Tsukishima x Popstar Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, Swearing, Slight incel vibes, not Tsukki stealing you from Yams lmao

Summary: You're different from your bandmates- from every other idol somehow. At least, you are to your biggest, most obsessed fanboy.

entrance

/verb/

fill (someone) with wonder and delight, holding their entire attention.

"Tsukki!"

The blond male sitting at his laptop paused in his typing and sent an annoyed glance to his bedroom door, which had been suddenly flung open by his closest friend.

"Shut up, Yamaguchi. Did you forget how to knock?" Tsukishima's snide comment didn't do anything to put a damper on his friend's grin- if anything, the freckle-faced boy beamed even brighter.

The scowling man didn't bother to ask his companion why he was so happy- he knew he'd find out in a moment. Sure enough, Yamaguchi eagerly brandished a shiny square case, practically shoving it towards him in excitement.

Tsukishima adjusted his glasses and studied the object- a CD case depicting a J-Pop girls' group. The three girls were attractive in a somewhat-cutesy way. They stood close together, pearly-white grins across their faces as they held up peace signs, each of them clad in a different, glittery, pastel-colored dress with matching ribbons weaved into their long hair. The background was a faded pinkish color and covered in different illustrations of candies and sweets. A bold, bright, and cutely scribbled font above the idols' heads declared what Tsukishima assumed was either the group's or the album's name: Candy Cloud.

"What the hell is this?"

Yamaguchi's face flushed in embarrassment as his eyes darted away, his smile fading into a wistful expression. Tsukishima felt a twinge of regret for putting a damper on his friend's spirit but... seriously? What was he thinking, acting so excited over some stuck-up celebrities?

They were all the same. Soaking up the fame and praise like narcissistic sponges when all they cared about was the money and attention their admirers gave them. The personas they showed off to the public were all for show, puppeteered by some publicist who knew what their audience wanted to see and hear.

Female celebrities were the worst- always so desperate to stay basking in the limelight that they would sell their soul to the devil if it meant that no one would forget about them. They'd pump themselves full of Botox and silicone, sleep with the most popular celebrities, and pull asinine stunts if they ever felt like the public wasn't keeping their eyes on them.

The smiles and laughs they forced in interviews made Tsukishima sick to his stomach. So painfully fake. It was fascinating to see how bad singers were with words and how bad actors were at acting when it came to donning the masks their fans wanted to see.

He'd heard enough stories about these "sweethearts" and "oh-so-genuine" celebrities acting like disgusting monsters the moment they thought no one important was watching. Infuriating divas that verbally abuse their staff, condescending assholes that believe they're better than everyone else, backstabbing bitches that no one likes but will never say so...

And what do their fans do when this news comes out? Even when faced with undeniable facts, they'll defend their idol to the death, becoming utter hypocrites and making fools out of themselves. Simping for girls who would probably never know they existed and wouldn't care about them if they did.

It didn't matter to Tsukishima what these girls Yamaguchi was fanboying over pretended to be- he had no doubts that they went back to being self-absorbed bitches the moment the camera stopped filming.

Why would Yamaguchi invest any amount of time and effort into girls that would never know of his existence nor appreciate any support he gave them? Why couldn't he just focus on a girl in one of their university classes or something? Tsukishima could stomach his friend gushing over just about anyone, as long as they weren't famous.

The friend in question was looking at Tsukishima sadly, disappointed in the response he was receiving as it dampened the positive mood he'd been in, "Sorry, Tsukki, I just... thought you'd like one of them. All three of them are really cool and one's your type."

Tsukishima snapped back immediately, "And I'm supposed to believe she'd want to date me or something? They're just braindead celebrities."

Yamaguchi wilted and nodded reluctantly, muttering another apology. He stood there awkwardly as Tsukishima resumed tapping away at his keyboard and finally let out a meek excuse to leave.

"Goodbye," said Tsukishima, not at all sad to see him go. Yamaguchi returned the parting word softly and scurried off, likely to listen to his CD at home.

As the night dragged on, a nagging feeling tugged at Tsukishima's mind, distracting him from his essay. Why does Yamaguchi think I'd like one of them? Which one of those three girls did he think I'd even like?

Before long, the boy found himself typing "Candy Cloud" into the search bar and scanning the results. Sure enough, Candy Cloud turned out to be the group's album name, their actual group being a mashup of parts of the members' names. The first girl wasn't his type, nor was the one in the middle, but the last girl, (Y/n), was just his type.

She wasn't like the other celebrities he'd watched interviews of- she was entirely herself without a hint of deception. She giggled over the awkward moments but never lied, only ever saying "I'm sorry, I can't tell you that!" when asked a confidential question.

Her interests and values aligned with Tsukishima's, to the point that he began to imagine that they agreed on everything. And, as one night turns to one day, turns to a week, to a month, and so on, he begins to delude himself into believing that you know who he is and already feel the way he's beginning to feel.

Tsukishima no longer lets Yamaguchi come over.

He's embarrassed, to a point, by how much you have taken over his living space. Your posters and pictures line his walls, your solos play on repeat, and he has every piece of merch, official or not.

Tsukishima studies the latest selfie you'd posted to your personal social media account. He grins. The name of the train station you're at reflects in the iris and pupil of your big, beautiful eyes. It's nearby. No more than a 15 minute drive and you'd mentioned "walking home" in the text portion of your post.

Soon enough, he'd be adding the best possible addition to his extensive collection.

You.