Chapter Text
It was a sunny day, a light breeze whistling through the winter-barren trees on the compound of Jujutsu Tech in Tokyo. January had started surprisingly mild, covering the world in nothing but a humid chill, instead of crisp snowfall and biting winds. Yugao strove to take swift and confident steps, even though her stomach churned anxiously. She felt jittery and on edge, but at the same time oddly excited.
It had been almost two years since a mere high schooler became the vessel of the most powerful, most fearsome curse known to mankind: Ryômen Sukuna. An anomaly in the Jujutsu world that the Higherups would rather see eradicated from its existence. This she’d gathered pretty quickly after they’d reached out to her – or rather, after they’d sent their lackeys to ensure she’d get the message that she basically didn’t have a choice.
Anger flared up again, burning and eating away at her insides, as she thought back to the very unsettling meeting she had weeks prior to this day with men at least thrice her age, shriveling and withering away while they talked about their expectations of her, lathering up their orders in a condescending way of politeness that seemed so akin to people having exceeded their expiration date by at least a decade.
They made it clear that she wouldn’t get a say in this. Which infuriated her all the more. Her family line had stayed out of sorcerer’s politics for centuries already, not necessarily by choice, rather because lowlife people like her had always been frowned upon by the prestigious clans of the Jujutsu world. Even though social class hardly mattered anymore in this day and age, the overwhelming gap between her lineage and the Jujutsu sorcerers persisted, leaving her family to a relatively unperturbed life far away from the radar of the council, clan politics and other shenanigans that ensued with enlisting at Jujutsu Tech.
Yugao sometimes thought her family’s life wasn’t that different from Curse Users, taking on their own missions, living by their own rules, with the simple exception that her family had made it a point to use their powers for good, exorcising curses instead of using their malicious nature to harm anything and anyone in the way of personal profit. Hence why the Elders had probably never bothered to take action against her lot. Or recruit them as sorcerers.
It thereby came as quite the surprise seeing black cars with tinted windows turning up at her doorstep, men in suits and sunglasses asking to have a word with her.
“For now, the execution of Sukuna’s vessel has been postponed. However, the risk of Sukuna taking control and going on a rampage still remains, increasing with every finger that is absorbed. You understand that we need to keep control of the situation at all costs.”
The words of the council members resounded in her ears. Sukuna’s vessel. His name was Yuji Itadori, but the old hags wouldn’t bother seeing him as anything but a nuisance at worst, a tool at best. She’d met him. Several times now, actually. The only reason why he was still breathing and not buried six feet under was none other than Satoru Gojo, strongest sorcerer alive and probably biggest pain in the ass the Higherups ever had to endure. She’d yet to introduce herself to him, but after everything that happened in the past few weeks, she was already looking forward to that.
Her steps slowed down involuntarily at the sight of the small building she was instructed to enter. It was located a bit off to the main ones of the compound. Close enough to immediately intervene if things quite literally blew up. Far enough so no one would accidentally catch on to what was just about to happen. Everything would be prepared. She would just have to go in, do her job and leave without another word.
The whole endeavor was meant to be kept secret. Only the Higherups were in on it. As well as Yuji of course. She’d talked a lot with him in the past weeks, making sure that he was okay with everything since it was his body that’d be subject to her technique. Because no matter the consequences for her or her family, she would’ve not followed through with this plan if he hadn’t been okay with it.
It took some time for him to come around (secretly, she’d wished for him to back out), not because he was generally against the whole thing. He’d just been so embarrassed at first (understandably so). In the end, he’d made his decision quickly though, he just needed some time to get used to everything. Eventually, he’d managed to look her in the face again without turning beet-red two seconds after.
She’d found his enthusiasm quite endearing, as well as his embarrassment, since he really tried not making it awkward for her, being especially mindful to not make her feel indecent in anyway, as he’d phrased it himself. She held his consideration in high esteem, even though her technique was the least she was worried about. Making it out alive on the other hand fared much higher on the list of her priorities…
◊
The first thing coming to his mind when Sukuna awoke was mild surprise. It was an absolute first that the boy would give up control over his body without being involved in a fight that pushed him within an inch of his life. The second thing was mild annoyance as soon as he figured out that he couldn’t move. Said feeling quickly flared up to anger when he realized that the ropes around his wrists and ankles couldn’t be torn apart like he expected them to.
Only then did he take his surroundings in for closer inspection. Some poor, unfortunate soul had tied him to a generous double-bed, each ankle connected to one of the lower bedposts, while his hands were tied together over his head, fastened to the wooden wall behind him. They had stripped him of the uniform jacket and shirt the boy typically sported, leaving his broad chest bare to the cool air. The bedsheets were pristine white and evenly laid out beneath him. Sukuna was able to spot the written sealing incantations that wrapped around the ropes at his feet. So that was why he couldn’t rip them apart. He almost wanted to laugh. A pathetic little curse seal. He would so tear the person to shreds that dared cuffing him down like that.
Had the boy been in possession of all his fingers he would have burst through the ropes without so much as a mere flick of his wrists. Unfortunately for him (and his ego), Yuji was nowhere near close to those twenty digits yet, which put a frustrating halt to the tearing-a-miserable-human-to-a-thousand-pieces-plan. Sukuna did not like that one bit.
He tried pulling at his restraints for a few seconds, thinking he might be able to break free by sheer physical force, but to no avail. He then resorted to look around the room for clues as to what piss-poor plan the jujutsu council was trying to execute this time. There were several candles lit. Any windows had been covered by heavy wooden lids, barely letting in any sunlight. Not a single soul seemed to be with him as well.
Right at the foot of the door, which he assumed led outside, he spotted some further curse seals written in black ink on the wooden panels. They stretched around the entirety of the room making it clear that the cursed ropes were not the only thing holding him there. Some one really didn’t want him to get out. And, if he didn’t know it any better what with all that ominous candle glow and the eerie silence stretching on, he’d bet a limb that this was some poorly conducted attempt at either an exorcism ritual or some fucked-up curse experiment.
For a brief second, he wondered if the council had finally decided to execute the boy like they had intended from the beginning. But he tossed that thought away in an instant, being sure that such a decision would have come with much more brimborium than some pitiable shack and a few cheap candles.
His musings were suddenly interrupted by noises coming from behind the entrance door. Someone was approaching, fishing for a key and fumbling with the lock. A lazy smirk appeared on his lips as he patiently waited for the person to enter. Whatever their plans were, he’d unleash his wrath on them no matter the restraints. Because he would find his way out of this, one way or another. And kami forbid what he would do to them once he succeeded.
It would be a lie to say he wasn’t caught off guard at least a little when a girl entered the room. He’d expected a sorcerer at least. Hell, he wouldn’t even have put it past Satoru Gojo being behind all this nonsense.
She seemed young, maybe somewhere around twenty, sporting a short black pleat skirt and a chestnut-colored coat that she slipped out of and dutifully hung on one of the hooks on the wall next to the door. She’d faltered for a moment when entering, her eyes quickly landing on the multitude of candles around them. He couldn’t quite figure out her reaction, apparently more perplexed by the candles than by the King of Curses staring holes into her head.
After she’d gotten rid of her shoes as well, her stocking-clad feet hitting the floor softly, she finally looked at him (an impudence he’d have her beheaded for if it wasn’t for those damn curse seals).
“So, you are Sukuna Ryômen.” It was a simple statement. She sounded quite unimpressed, but he could see right through her. Her shoulders were tense as was her jawline, her eyes watchful and uneasy, anticipating he might jump at her at any second. Which he’d surely done by now if given the chance. She looked small. Dainty with her little skirt and the loose, black button-up blouse. He’d crush her between his fingers like a dry twig.
“And who do you think you are, talking to me like that, you miserable worm?” His voice all but boomed through the cabin, heavy with his growing frustration and the promise of bloodcurdling violence. He did not like to play games. She would find out soon enough.
To his astonishment she had the audacity to smile. And that smile widened ever so slightly when she saw him tearing at his restraints, instinctively wanting to strangle her for it, the ropes biting into the skin of his wrists leaving a burning sensation behind. She now knew that he couldn’t get away, couldn’t harm her. Yet.
The air in the room shifted. He watched as the tension somewhat fell from her shoulders. Slowly, she approached him, barely making any noise, coming to a halt at the bedside to his left.
Now, that she’d gotten closer, he could get a better look at her features. She had an even face, unblemished skin and lips that seemed somewhat tinted, too rosy to be natural. Some strands of black hair had escaped her high ponytail, framing her features in a flattering way. She’d put on light makeup around her eyes, accentuating the green orbs now trained on him. He caught a whiff of her perfume. Something floral.
Even though she’d put in effort to keep it subtle, he clearly noticed that she’d all but dolled herself up.
Before he could make a comment on her appearance though, she climbed on the bed and – in one swift motion – swung a leg over his body to straddle his hips. Her high-waisted skirt, that cinched in her waist, rode up a good deal, revealing some of the lacy trim of her sheer, black stockings. She sat on his lap like it was a throne, looking down on him expectantly, waiting for his reaction. They both stared at each other wordlessly for a few seconds, before Sukuna let out a low chuckle.
“My, my, aren’t you a bold little creature”, he remarked, slightly intrigued by her antics. She didn’t carry any weapons on her (not as far as he could see anyway). While he could sense that she was able to control her cursed energy, she didn’t seem to have much power, which left him wondering what exactly she intended to do to harm him. “I’ll take my sweet time killing you, once I’m out of here. Now tell me what you want and get the hell off me, you cunt.” His tone took on a threatening note, making clear he wouldn’t tolerate any form of disobedience.
She cocked her head to the side, her expression unfazed by his demand.
“But you’re stuck.” That was all she had to say to this.
“You really think some weak-ass seals are going to stop me from ripping out your insides, shoving them down your throat and watch you choke on them at my feet?”
She pursed her lips in thought, her eyes flying to his bound wrists before traveling down his naked torso, following the lines of his tattoos.
“Seems like that’s the case, isn’t it?” she calmly retorted, her eyes still glued to the black markings on his chest.
“Careful, brat. Or I’ll have your tongue.”
Her eyes shot up to his, a wicked gleam in them. “Oh, yes you will”, she all but whispered. “As far as I see it, you are at my mercy right now. So maybe you be careful shooting threats around.” As if supporting her point with it, she slightly bent forward, reaching out and tracing the black lines on his chest. His muscles twitched under her touch, his eyes narrowing at her blatant disrespect. Either she was completely delusional or had a serious death wish. To be fair, it wouldn’t matter as soon as he got his hands on her. He already imagined her screams and the satisfying crunch of her bones. Oh, he would break every single one, once, twice, as many times as they’d give.
Meanwhile her finger traveled lower, over his abs, wandering between the crevices of his muscles, that tensed beneath her featherlight touches. She slowly straightened herself again, placing her entire weight right back on his groin. It was a small movement, seemingly innocent to properly settle back in, but – for a short moment – her hips ground against his in a fleeting motion. It was enough to make his cock twitch like it was awakening from a deep slumber. His eyes shot to her thighs that fit snuggly against his sides, her skirt doing absolutely nothing to cover them.
“You know”, she started softly, her eyes all but drinking his form in, “I should be grateful. You inhabit quite a handsome body.”
As it slowly dawned on him what this woman was here for, her hand glided to his lower stomach, resting on the hem of his pants, resulting in another twitch from his member. And by the way the corner of her mouth tilted upwards, this one she clearly felt as well.
A chuckle rose deep in his chest, slowly turning into what he thought was a cruel laugh. “From all the people they could’ve sent, they chose a whore to try and best me? Tell me, did those cranky motherfuckers from the council grow bored of you or is this all they can muster up these days?”
His next comment was abruptly stifled as she gripped him tightly through his pants. Not a single word left her lips in response to his insults, but her eyes were blazing with suppressed fury and something akin to the hunger of those people who had dared to challenge him in a fight. She gave him a rough stroke, making him clench his jaw in response.
“Insult me all you want. I’ll make you feel good anyway.” Ironically, that sounded more like a threat than most things people had thrown his way who’d been much more powerful and intimidating than her.
She scooted down on him while her fingers worked on the buttons of his pants, the sound of the zipper echoing obscenely loud through the otherwise silent cabin. His cock was already half-hard, straining against its confines. He inwardly cursed at this anatomical betrayal, blaming it on the Itadori brat for never getting laid. Sukuna could not for the life of him say what exactly the sorcerer’s council thought they’d gain from this, but it must’ve been something. And he was hellbent on not giving them anything.
He suddenly felt her lips on his lower abdomen, kissing him softly, pliantly, her hand rubbing slowly over his growing erection. She pulled the hem of his pants and underwear down an inch, just to place another kiss. His hips bucked involuntarily and this time he swore out loud.
“Get off me now or I swear I will–“ The words got stuck in his throat like the bone of a fish, as she gave him another deep stroke through his underwear, his foreskin pulling back exposing the sensitive tip underneath.
For fuck’s sake, it shouldn’t feel this intense.
Apparently satisfied with his reaction, the girl sat up again pulling his pants and underwear over his hips with a sharp tug. He hissed at the feeling of fabric brushing over his cock before it sprang free.
She took a good look at him, her cheeks slightly tinted pink if from embarrassment or excitement he couldn’t quite tell.
Before he could hurl another insult at her, she took him in her hand, stroking down ever so slowly, making him suppress a groan. She caught on to that, however, and started moving her hand up and down at a painstakingly slow pace.
“I didn’t think you’d be this big”, she whispered tauntingly, the backhanded compliment making him want to bite that smirk right off her face.
“If you think jacking me off will save that pathetic life of yours, you are deadly mistaken”, he ground out between gritted teeth, his breath turning shallow with every thrust of her hand.
She just raised her eyebrows at him, before lowering herself down. “Sure”, was all she said, her tongue darting out to swirl around his tip and catch the single drop of precum that had gathered on his slit.
Sukuna threw his head back into the pillow with a groan, thrusting up his hips to make her fall off him, but despite her size she kept him in place fairly well. Her lips closed around his head sucking lightly before giving the tip another swirl of her tongue. Warmth spread out from his groin area to every other part of his body, crawling up his chest and neck, staying as a slight tint on his cheeks. Every lick, every nip of her zinged through his body like a lightning bolt.
He cursed, when she took him deep down her throat, the wet heat of her mouth engulfing him like a bonfire, before she released him again with an audible ‘pop’.
“Who the fuck are you?”, he spat, breathless, pissed and godlessly turned on by the look of her red lips, slightly swollen from their exertion. He hadn’t spent centuries slumbering as a cursed entity, powerful beyond human comprehension, just to succumb to his vessel’s lowly bodily reactions.
She licked her lips like she already missed the taste of him and smirked, unashamedly. “You already want to call me by my name?” Her hand resumed stroking him lazily, a poor substitute for her wicked tongue. “Is it that good?”
Sukuna growled at her taunting remark. “Better keep that mouth shut, whore.”
“You want me to keep it shut?” she asked, while her hand rested at the bottom of his shaft. “Or wide open?” Not waiting for his answer, instead taking matters in her own hands, she licked him from base to tip, adding a little flick at the top that had him clenching his jaw. Her lips closed around him for the second time, while her tongue treated his head like it was the last piece of candy on earth. The bitch actually had the nerve to sigh, the noise sending soft vibrations to his core, making him shudder. The King of Curses simply did not shudder. At least that was what he was trying to tell himself, while she worked him like a popsicle left out on a sunny summer’s day.
He'd long given up on resisting her at this point, meeting her bobbing head with one thrust of his hips after the other. It had gotten unbearably hot in the room, leaving him to feel like he was on fire. He wanted her to take him deeper, take him faster, just do anything to make it better.
Like she’d heard his thoughts, the girl hollowed out her cheeks, sucking him in just right, while her hand stroked the bottom of his shaft in a rotating motion, sending him reeling over the edge in less than a few seconds.
“Fuck!”
He came hard, emptying himself into her mouth, but she just kept going, sucking him dry, until he felt himself soften. Only then did she release him, slowly straightening herself back up. She looked him straight in the eye, the tip of her tongue darting out to clean off her lips. She’d swallowed every single last drop, he realized, while he lay there still panting.
“Wicked wench,” he breathed, the aftershocks of his orgasm still coursing through his body.
To his surprise, she didn’t grace him with an answer, instead getting off his lap and slipping off the bed effortlessly like nothing ever happened. As she stood next to him, she brushed out the folds of her skirt, checked the fit of her blouse and, finally, tightened her ponytail. Her fingers brushed over the corners of her mouth, making sure she’d gotten rid of all the evidence of her steamy intermezzo.
She gave him one last glance, before turning to fetch her shoes and coat.
“Until next time.”
And she was out the door.