Twisted Obsession [Yandere! Izaya x Reader]

Thirteen

        Timorous hands pointlessly twisted and pulled at the tub's rusty faucet. Your plan was to immediately take a long, scorching shower, but of course you discovered that your water had been shut off. A very common occurrence in your apartment complex, however the timing was enormously inconvenient. With each effort a small, audible screech would resonate. The sound mocked you. All you wanted to do was wash away the vile remnants that monster's touch left. Rid the stinging sensations of where his greedy lips and hands had sullied.

You felt so...dirty. You were encrusted in your own dry blood, and sweat along with filthy ignominy.

M I N E

You gave one final heave on the valve before pitifully sinking to the chinked tiled floor. Despite the pain in on your stomach, you brought your legs to your chest, wrapping your arms securely around them. You buried your face into your knees, and tears freely gushed from your weary eyes. Choked sobs grew louder, your body rocked hectically back and forth, devastated from the endless anguish.

What could you do?

"I'm getting closer~."

The upsurge of traumatizing shock had oppressed both your body and mind, completely pushing out an important notion such as getting in contact with Izaya. With the little strength you possessed, you hauled yourself off the cold floor and out the restroom. Bare feet drag about the dirty floorboards of your apartment until you finally stumble across your phone.

The crack diagonally on the screen generates a throb on your temple, and you wince. To your dismay, your stalker had deleted all of your contacts. His petty, jealous attempt to make sure you had no communication with anyone else but himself.

There is a notification of a missed call, and fortunately, it is from a number you recognize. It is Izaya's number and he not only called, but he left a voicemail as well.

"Hey [Name]-chan~! Did you sleep well? I hope so~. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I won't be able to make a trip to Ikebukuro today. I have much more important things to take care of. But maybe you can come visit me for a change? Miss you. Bye~."

Without delay, you press the redial button, nerves in a frenetic uproar with each ring that emits. It rings and ring, your heart inflates with helpless dread when the voice that answers is not Izaya.

"The person you are trying to reach – "

"No!" 'Please Izaya. Pick up, please. I need help...'

Every attempt is met with the blasted automated voicemail, and you grow vastly more apprehensive. Adamant, your shoulder locks the receiver to your ear as you bustle to apply fresh bandages.

This couldn't wait. You had to talk to Izaya. You needed to see him.

Who else could help you? After the deviant left you that 'love' letter, you couldn't go to the police. You had also contemplated taking your containers of water to be tested. To prove your suspicions that someone was breaking into your apartment and unlawfully drugging you. Unfortunately you had finished the remainder of the gallon the night before. Besides, what good would it do? Your stalker was sure to interpret the action as a sign of disobedience, and your parents would have to pay for your defiance.

Unless...

Maybe there was something you could do after all...

*

He was falling deeper and deeper in love with you.

Gleeful, the informant spun around in his office chair, idyllically reminiscing the special night he shared with you. His fingertips blazed when he made contact with your soft skin, exploding like wildfire, in and out of his entire being. But the fire did not burn him to cinders and ash. No, these flames zealously danced within him, enrapturing the info broker in its heated passion. It was exhilarating! Even Izaya Orihara, with all his boundless knowledge on humankind, could never have anticipated such an intense effect from merely touching another person. Oh, let's not forget the taste! Unconsciously, he licked his lips, savoring the very last bit of your addicting flavor. He shamelessly gormandized. Kissing, biting, and sucking the supple flesh that had been available to him. The delectable noises you made just for him only seasoned the appetizing tang.