#freaky fic

everything they looked for when it came to picking on people. they naturally gravitated towards you whenever they felt like assholes.

they got a kick from shoving you in lockers and shoving their dicks in you—like now.

"choke on it, lard ass"

Geto said cruelly, his hands gripping your oily hair as he thrusted his dick in and out of your mouth. you were on your knees, just in your panties because they had stripped you down. your baggy clothes discarded somewhere along with their clothes somewhere in the empty classroom.

Gojo was to the side, recording the scene and chuckling. he wasn't subtle about it either—his phone flash on and proud.

Geto grunted as he picked up the pace, his eyes locked on you as he fucked your mouth. "f-fuck. keep suckin'" his free hand slapped your cheek roughly.

your throat burned and you were gagging helplessly around his cock, your pudgy hands rested on his thighs in a fist to help stabilize yourself. your eyes closed shut to hide your teary eyes. you coughed around his dick but that didn't waver him, his mushroom tip hitting the back of your throat. that'd leave a bruise.

he suddenly pulled out and came all over your face—groaning at both the feeling and the sight. his white ropes splurting all over your face, coating your glasses and acne face. his cum dripping down the apples of your cheeks like tears. "did you catch that?"

he smirked, glancing at gojo.

gojo had the same sickening smirk

"fuck yeah i did." ending the video and saving it to his album dedicated to just you that him and geto shared.

"gonna do numbers on twitter, aren't ya fatty?" he cooed condescendingly

you tried to catch your breath, trying to clean your glasses and face free of his seed but you were quickly stopped

"ah, ah. you aren't done, slut." getos voice was laced with mischief and something much daker, taking off your glasses and putting them on a desk. "leave my mark." it wasn't a request or suggestion—it was a demand. a rule that he put in place.

your eyes were teary, feeling cold and exsposed. but you would be lying if you said you weren't wet. that your panties didn't have a wet spot seeping through. that you wished for more praise... you were equally as mentally fucked up as them.

"....s'jus l-leave me alone-" you sniffled, you lips forming into a deep frown. your lips were already puffy from being roughly kissed prior to this. but, you did kiss back. you wanted more of those 'sweet' moments.

geto eyebrows raised, his smirk worsening. you were so pathetic, so fat, so adorable...so theirs. like a little fat pup trying to fight back against them.

but he noticed how your chubby legs squeezed together, the smell of your wetness wafting around under their noses—teasing them. they almost felt bad. almost.

"that was round one. He didn't get his turn" geto pointed back at gojo with his thumb. and your eyes followed where he gestured to and met eyes with gojo. him having a stupid grin on his stupid fucking handsome face.

"almost forgot about lil ol' me?" gojo teased with something cruel underneath his voice "guess i have to make you remember me. c'mere, fatty." he started unbuckling his belt, walking closer.

——

"f-fuck! get a c-closer angle-"

he was buried balls deep in your fat pussy, your pudgy legs over his shoulders, smushed underneath him. his muscular chest against your boobs, his abs pressed against your belly. your pubic hair brushing against his v-line with each thrust. he was jack-hammering you.

Geto was jerking off on the sidelines and filming, zooming on the lewd scene of where his dick was disappearing and reappearing from your pussy. your fatass pussy was sopping with your own juices—you were withering and moaning under him helplessly, your toes curling.

"a-ah!-" you squeeked out, your eyes became teary and started to sob from pleasure. not from pain this time.

Gojos face was hovering right over yours, analyzing you. his blue eyes trying to meet yours but your eyes were squeezed shut. he was such a perv. both of them. his thrusts were cruel

"you cryin?" gojos ego was inflating like crazy. he turned his head and gave geto a cocky look. as in 'im better, suck it' kind of look.

geto just scoffed and focused on recording but flipped him off with his free hand.

his thrusts were quick, snappy, and his dick filled you up perfectly, your pudgy legs shaking. you sobbed, tears streaming down the apples of your cheeks, mixing with getos drying sperm.

"s-sh-shit-" you cried out, your hands desperately gripping his biceps as your fat hips bucked wildly. and before you knew it—you squirted. soaking both yourself and gojo.

gojo groaned and fucked your through it before cumming as well. one final thrust and he emptied his sperm inside your womb, biting back a mewl. your fatass pussy was too good. he pulled out, letting your legs off his shoulders.

"fucked this whale good." gojo chuckled, wiping his forehead from sweat

geto stopped the video and stretched. "next time i get pussy." he called dibs before putting back on his clothes.

Gojo stood up as well and got changed. "yeah, yeah.... i don't give a shit. a hole is a hole."

and with that... they left. left you leaking on the cold classroom floor as the post-sex clarity slowly wore off—you felt cold and lonely. you wanted them to come back. to notice you again. you'd have to get their attention next time. you already missed their wandering hands and mean words.

across the kingdoms, the message spread like wildfire through warped pipes and panicked messengers:

“the king of flames has chosen a bride.”

and the name attached to it made no sense to anyone outside the yoshi isles. the princess of the yoshis. you.

most people hadn’t even heard of you before the announcement. the yoshi isles were too far, too wild, too untamed for politics in the mushroom kingdom to care much about. and maybe that was why you stayed that way. no polished court. no delicate etiquette lessons. no royal spotlight.

just you—ruling over yoshi isles in your own way.

your hair was always a mess from the wind and jungle rain. your clothes were layered in clashing colors and patched patterns stitched from travel cloth and island fabric. your crown wasn’t gold and jewels—it was carved bone and decorated with yoshi eggs, passed down like a symbol of survival, not elegance.

you weren’t built for palaces. you were built for islands that fought back.

and now—

now you were in one.

the chamber was enormous, carved into black volcanic stone. lava light flickered through tall windows. a bed sat in the center like it was trying to convince you this was comfort instead of containment. the doors had no handles on your side. the walls hummed faintly—alive, watching.

a beautiful cage. and you hated how carefully it was made.

standing across from you was him, bowser!Sukuna—but not the version stories used to describe.

this one felt… sharper. heavier. like something ancient had settled into his bones and decided it deserved the throne of everything.

the air around him felt wrong in a way you couldn’t ignore. he was grinning. that same arrogant, entertained grin he probably wore while burning kingdoms.

his voice filled the room like a collapsing ceiling. "don’t look so angry.” a low, rumbling laugh followed—sharp enough to sting. “i only conquered half your kingdom.”

he stepped closer, slow and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world. you didn’t move back.

your body refused.

that only made his grin widen.

“no one even knew your name a week ago,” he continued, tilting his head slightly. “now the world can’t stop repeating it.”

he gestured vaguely at the chamber, at the fortress, at everything. “you should be honored. most kingdoms beg for this kind of attention.” the heat in the room wasn’t just from the lava outside anymore.

it was him.

you clenched your fists.

“you didn’t choose me,” you said. “you just took me.”

a pause.

then that laugh again—low, satisfied. “of course i did.”

he leaned forward slightly, eyes glinting with something far more dangerous than anger. not rage. ownership. "that’s what kings do.”

the chains along the walls shifted faintly, as if reacting to the sound of his voice alone. “and now the world gets to learn something very important,” he said softly. his grin returned—wider, sharper “everything eventually becomes mine. even something so ugly as you." the chamber felt smaller than it had a moment ago.

but you didn’t step back. you just stared at him. and for the first time—his grin didn’t fade… but it did sharpen with interest. your body felt stuck on the bed, sat up and shoulders hunched. "why pick me... you had plenty of other options. prettier ones since you wanna comment on m-my looks.."

the stutter in your voice gave away your fear. you immediately regretted trying to talk back.

He only stepped closer, eyeing your body. you reminded him of a goomba. plump but in an odd way. he made a mental note to make sure he'd get his servants to do something about your appearance on the wedding day.

"the other princesses are too... needy and all about their looks." he watched your face, seeing it scrunch up. you didn't take that kindly. i mean, he was basically saying you didn't care for your looks—which you didn't but still.

"C’mon, princess. you know m'right." he chucked darkly before adding "you look just like a goomba—it only makes sense for you to be the queen of them."

He was well aware he was stooping very low and out of his league for a thing like you. chubby n round, hair that needed to be brushed, smelt not so pleasant, and not to mention those little bumps on your face that resembled little lava mountains—acne.

you only felt angered and offended but you couldn't deny his attractiveness as he moved like he owned the space around him—which he did.

sukuna stepped forward slowly, heavy footfalls echoing through the stone chamber like finality itself. his body was massive, but controlled—each shift of his shoulders and arms calm, deliberate, certain. when he stopped, the room felt smaller.

then he reached out.

his hand extended toward you, slow and steady, not rushing to grab—just closing the distance like it was already decided. the air between you felt tighter as his fingers hovered near you, close enough to make the message clear without a single touch. his hand ghosting your cheek before caressing it

"i could take you right now… ruin your fat cunt. bet you're already wet." he said, his voice laced with threat and sick mockery. "bet your pubes are wet with your own slick." he added. and he wasn't wrong.. in some twisted way you felt heat start to rush in both your cheeks and in between your thighs. you instinctively pressed your thighs together to try and stop it.. but it only got worse.

"h-how do you know?-" you said with slight panic in your voice. how would he know whether you were shaved or not. you scooched back, making his hand fall off your face. his grin widened, letting out a sick laugh. "lucky guess. a king isn't bothered by some hair. a prince is." but his grin turned into a scowl as you moved away, his fist clenching. “don’t mistake my restraint for mercy." he was ticked off. all princesses were so dramatic and feisty. but you caught his eye with your... unique appearance. you're the perfect piece of chub to stand beside him.

"i w-will never l-love a monster like you!.." your eyebrows furrowed and lips turned downwards to a frown. you felt so vulnerable. so... ugly. you were aware you weren't pretty nor skinny but it hurt to hear. you felt caged in by him, his massive body intimidating that most certainly did strike fear in any toad or goomba. but he only responded with a growl, standing at the edge of your new bed now.

"you might not love me but your ugly cunt sure does." he said cruelly, knowing that he could get any princess wet if he wanted. you should be kissing his feet that he was gonna marry an ugly duckling like you. he saw how you didn't back down and instead scooched away.. again. "go on. keep fighting me and acting like a brat. nothing will save you from our wedding day or night." he chuckled as he already planned what he'd do to you on the wedding night.

"you hate me, and still you can’t look away. acting so tough while eye-fucking me."

he scoffed, his lips pressing into a thin line as he was clearly holding back. he suddenly turned and walked towards the door before speaking up. "i'll make sure to put you in your place tomorrow. you should feel honored. i don’t keep things that bore me.”

and with that he left your room. you heard a few locks click—leaving you in the room both scared and horny. you were dreading your wedding night while also getting yourself hot n bothered thinking about him. gosh, you were sick.

I know it's time to close Ao3 when I start with a wholesome found family fic. and end up with a kid who killed, cooked, and served his boyfriend as soup to their friendgroup.

I'm going to go lie in my grave, gazing at the stars. as I ponder my purpose in this universe that i have materialized in.