Nowhere - Part One (Sukunaxreader) EXPLICIT

Nowhere

TW: This story deals heavily with toxicity, violence, aggression, obsession, and non-consent, as well as mentions characters from law enforcement. It's my hope that you're like me, and while you appreciate characters like this in fiction (even absolutely get off on them), someone like this in real life would make you run for the hills. If any aspect of a relationship you're in sounds like what's written here (other than in consensual and predisclosed play), get the fuck out. Community and emergent supports are available free of charge wherever one lives <3

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You waited.

Door locked or not, it didn't matter. He always found his way inside, ever since the first time you'd invited him in.

You were neighbours in the building. You'd only ever intended to be friendly. Maybe a bit more – the first time you met in the mail room you blushed. He was broad and strong. Desirable. His eyes found you, captured yours, a smile curling the smooth corners of his mouth.

"Sukuna," he'd said, extending his hand. He took yours, his tattooed grasp swallowing the bones of your fingers strong and firm, and your blood had raced, your hips bursting into a red throb of longing. You felt his eyes follow you up the stairs and around the corner, felt the touch of his hunger lingering on your body like a fever.

Behind the door of your apartment you shivered. Setting your keys shaking onto the hook, you stripped, threw your stiff work clothes towards the laundry. Naked, you crossed to the fridge and cracked into a beer. Your skin shrilled danger. You wanted it.

He always seemed to be nearby after that. Across the parking lot at 7am, passing in the stairs when you carried groceries, looking down the hallway as you keyed yourself into your unit each evening. Everything about him made you feel alive, made you want to be reckless and bold. But every night you locked yourself inside, cooked dinner, scrubbed the stovetop until it gleamed, and read the same chapter of your book again and again, not grasping a word as your mind raced towards him. Every night you turned the shower as hot as you could stand, so hot it made you cry out as it scalded your skin red and steaming. With your forehead pressing the cool hard of the tile you let your hand drift low, slipping the skin of your pleading slit, and thrusting your hips over the fill of your fingers, you ached into oblivion.

Then one night he knocked. You knew it was him, even without looking. Something about the rap of his knuckles that commanded, arrested you. You rushed for the nearest clothing, dragging an oversized sweater over your body, and opened the door.

"This is dumb," he said with an easy grin that made you stupid, "but do you have a vegetable peeler? I'm prepping daikon and mine has vanished."

"I love daikon," you said. You'd never had it. You invited him in, your hands shaking as you rooted through the drawer for your peeler.

Did he want a beer? Sure, he'd said, leaning his hip against the counter. Could he hear the way your heart galloped? His fingers touched yours as he took the glass bottle, raised it to his lips and swallowed long, his eyes never releasing yours.

He finished his drink, setting it gracefully to the countertop. Suddenly, he threw you to the wall hard enough to shake the pictures, gripping your throat savagely as blood flooded your head thick and dark. His tongue snaked against your ear, his breath hot as he hissed, "You've been begging for this since I met you." Kneeing your legs apart he clawed your underwear aside, and you squeezed your eyes shut as his fingers plunged the secret of your wetness. "That's what I thought..."

He filled you until your knees buckled, until you shuddered and screamed, sinking your back low to the ground, and he unfastened his pants, pushing the violence of his cock into your mouth, stopping your throat, your breath. Tears spilled from your eyes as you choked for air, as his hips forced your head hard against the wall again, again, again, as your pussy drooled over the floor. Then he dragged you onto the carpet, pushed you onto your stomach, fucked you with his hand over your mouth, groaning animal when you bit the dull of your teeth into his fingers screaming, unravelling, coming like an earthquake. He finished inside of you, painting your insides hot and sticky. There was no asking, no care, no caution.