#izayaxreader

I know this probably wasn’t meant that way, but I feel that burn deep in my soul. Lol. I mean I HAVE written stuff for other fandoms at times... (Check out that list of fandoms: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonSilk)

But I am admittedly a Kaiba fangirl! So I guess I can’t blame you guys for that. :D

Anyway... here goes an effort at Izaya! I hope it doesn’t fail!

Sitting in the dark, you keep your breathing shallow. The only movement that you allow yourself is the wiggle of the blade in your hand. Otherwise, you keep still. You’ll wait as long as you need. You’ll stare at the door until it opens. 

And then you’ll aim straight for his dumb face. 

“What are you doing in the dark~” 

The voice whispering in your ear throws you off balance, but then you straighten up and spin around, lashing out with the knife in your hand. 

In the dark, you can make out Izaya’s shadow. You miss him. Then a hand wraps around your wrist, squeezing and twisting to force you to drop your knife. You let your knees give out, trying to force him to let you go as you drop to the ground, but instead he pulls you toward him and forces you to spin around. He dips you down, arm wrapped around your back now, and his lips ghost over your own as he says, “Was the knife for me darling~” 

You headbutt him, and that’s a mistake because pain shoots through your skull right before your back hits the ground. 

“You’re not still mad are you~?” 

“Of course I am!” You push yourself up, trying to seek out his shadow in the dark. As the pain subsides, you curl your body into a crouch and feel the ground around you, looking for your knife. 

Then the light clicks on. You hiss as your eyes adjust. Then you look around to find Izaya relaxed on the couch with his feet propped up. He rubs your knife against the cushion. Your eyes narrow as you try to focus on the knife. 

He winks and tosses the knife up into the air. You dash forward, intending to grab it out of the air, and find yourself pushed down onto the couch. Izaya looms over you and his hands press down on your shoulders. He smiles, and the knife lands next to your face, piercing the couch.