#and they'd all be happy to see me. it's nice

[pigeonwhumps]

Bruises

Everything taglist: @painful-pooch @i-eat-worlds @a-funeral-romance @rainydaywhump

Whumpuary day 21: bruises | "who are you?" | immortality

After being isolated and treated as a punching bag for far too long, Whumpee runs to the only place they hope they might be able to find safety.

1.7k

CWs: bruises, isolation, team whump, arguments, used as a punching bag, abuse, touch-starved

Whumpee knocks on the small metal door weakly, hand dropping to their side after three small knocks. They stand as upright as possible, hand on the wall to help, arm trembling under the weight, and hope it's enough.

The door opens after what feels like both a minute and an eternity, and Caretaker's there, seemingly unchanged after all this time in her ink-covered dungarees, hair braided and pulled back. She blinks at them, at their bruises and blood, at the patched drawstring bag over one shoulder and their scruffy, dirty clothes and shoes. They blink back, almost too tired to be embarrassed. Almost. How much of a mess must they look in her eyes?

"Whumpee?"

"You said once," they croak, "that if I needed someplace to crash then I could, no questions asked. Does that offer still stand?"

A million emotions flash through Caretaker's eyes at once, and Whumpee can't hope to make out what they are. Then she nods and steps aside.

"Honestly I was more thinking at home, it's more comfortable there, but sure. I have an armchair and snacks. Come on in."

Whumpee ducks their head and limps inside. They'd be happy naked on a cold metal floor so long as Whumper's not there. And she's not, would never be, because the whole reason Caretaker made the offer in the first place was because she didn't trust Whumper, didn't like her. It was why they fought.

She has every reason to say 'I told you so' and probably just as many ways to realise that, but she's not.

Caretaker's studio is nice. The old warehouse it's a part of isn't disguised entirely, old pipes and brickwork visible. Her rented space contains a sewing machine, cutting mat, screen printing press, inks and fabrics and threads of all colours and types, everything Whumpee would expect to see here, had they ever bothered to visit. They clutch the corded handle of their bag tightly. It's their most treasured possession, and this is where it's from.

Caretaker waves a hand in the direction of the armchair. "Get comfy. There's the sink if you need it, and the toilet's at the end of the hall. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Whumpee nods gratefully, waiting until Caretaker's left again before cleaning their hands and face, changing into fleecy pyjamas and curling up on the armchair, Teddy in hand. They avoid looking at themself while they do all of this, their appearance not something they want to dwell on. They must be making the furniture dirty, surely, but Caretaker told them to sit so she can't mind too much.

That makes a change. A change from being somewhere where they apparently matter less than everyone else, everything else, where they're so easy to dismiss that–

They swallow a sob, swallow it right down, keeping their emotions clenched tight inside. Caretaker doesn't need to see this, especially not when it's all their own stupid, naïve fault. Can't see what's right in front of their face sometimes, she said, and she was right. The bruises and cuts all down one side of their body from the last time they were dragged across the floor are proof of that. Fucking hell.

They close their eyes.

Next thing they know, someone's shaking their shoulder, setting their body throbbing. They snap their eyes open as Caretaker's hand withdraws.

Ow.

"Sorry. You still sleep like the dead. You also look like hell, so I've brought you a cup of tea, a pot noodle and some biscuits. Relax. You don't have to tell me what happened, I meant that, but I have some plasters and stuff if you need them?" Whumpee shakes their head. They're not going to use everything of Caretaker's when they can't even replace it, this is already way too much. "Okay. Well, drink, eat, sleep, whatever you need to do. I'll– I'll be here. This time. Okay?"

"It wasn't your fault last time," Whumpee whispers. They'd walked out on Caretaker, not the other way round.

Caretaker hums non-committally, in that way that means she disagrees but doesn't want to risk starting an argument, and Whumpee sighs, sipping at their tea with shaking hands. Chamomile, their favourite. They don't want an argument either. Everything has already hurt more than enough recently.

They eat half of the pot noodle without taking a breath. Then they force themself to put it down and look up at Caretaker, who has a concerned frown on her face as she works, sketching in her book.

"You were right. She was awful."

Caretaker looks up. "Whumper?"

Whumpee nods. All those awful things they'd yelled at Caretaker, because they were stupid and starstruck and couldn't see what was right in front of them. And they can't even excuse any of it, because she was right, entirely right, and she's just let them right back in like the last thing they saw wasn't her looking so completely crestfallen.

"I'm sorry, Caretaker. I was horrible to you and you just... you're too good." Too good for them, too good for this world.

She smiles bitterly. "I wasn't entirely innocent in that fight. You always act like I'm either one or the other. That fight was awful, on both sides, but we're here now. Water under the bridge. Okay?"

"Okay."

"For the record, I did hope I was wrong."

Whumpee nods and dives into the remainder of their pot noodle. Better eat now, while they can. Caretaker goes back to drawing at her standing desk.

After a while, they take a sip of their tea. "It was okay at first. Good, even. She was my mentor. I did what she said, I learned, I got to socialise with her and the rest of her team. I helped. It felt good. But then she... I don't know when it started but..."

They trail off. They don't know when Whumper started using her as a punching bag. It wasn't immediately, but then the tasks got harder and the punishments got harsher and Whumper got angrier and they were isolated and then there they were, a convenient punching bag and... other things. Worse things.

"I couldn't tell. Who would I tell? How would I tell? She threatened me. Threatened you. But I– I– it hurt so much, Caretaker."

"She's the one who left you like this?"

Whumpee nods. It's not the worst they've been, but they don't say that, not trying to garner unmerited sympathy from Caretaker. It's their own fault.

"I'm glad you got out of there."

"She's not the reason it hurt so much."

Caretaker cocks her head in concern. "Her team?"

Whumpee nods. Stops to take a long drink and sinks into their seat, wrapping their arms around themself. This is a lot to think about.

They don't know why they're talking, but they are, and that means thinking about it. About what happened, about everything. And that hurts. It's embarrassing, too, they should've guessed. Caretaker did.

They thought the team was just oblivious. Now they're not so sure.

"My first complaint... it didn't... I made everything worse even when I chickened out. Whumper knew I was going to, even though I didn't. And then I tried again through proper channels and it... Team Leader... he already knew. He asked me to... I showed him! And I got suspended when I wouldn't withdraw it. And Whumper... she... I was stupid, I stayed, I thought I could survive it, I thought I'd be fine but she... and now I'm just a coward. What if she hurts someone else? Or if she makes good on her threat against you? I thought she couldn't but..."

Caretaker stares for a moment and then grins cockily. "Come on Whumpee, you know what I used to do for a living, I'll be fine."

"Don't. Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Stop acting like it's all fine. It's not, and you don't know that it'll be okay! This isn't an assassination and even if it was you remember how we met! Stop trying to– to– stop lying to me!"

Whumpee takes a deep breath, trying to calm themself. They're not being fair, they know that. She's trying to help. They just– how can she pretend it's all okay when it's so very not?

"Sorry."

Caretaker shakes her head. "I'm sorry. Maybe I'm being a bit flippant. But I will be okay. I'll make sure of it, I promise."

"You'd better."

Whumpee shifts, wincing. Curling up so tight hurts, tugging and pushing at the bruises and burns and cuts, but it's safer. No way to kick your chest in if they can't get to it.

"Are you sure you don't at least want painkillers?"

They shake their head. No drugs. No forced weakness and compliance. No weird hallucinations. No... god knows what. Not today.

"Okay. Try to sleep. If I'm not here when you wake don't panic, I just need to sort some things."

Despite the matter-of-fact soothing layered on top, Whumpee knows that tone of voice, all impending action. And they know what she's planning to do. They look Caretaker directly in the eyes.

"Don't do something you'll regret, Caretaker."

She looks taken aback for a moment at their sudden fierceness but then gives a toothy grin, like a predator that's scented blood.

"Oh, who says I'd regret it?"

"I mean just don't– don't get yourself hurt. She's dangerous."

"I know that. So am I." She must see something in Whumpee's bruised and battered face because she softens, tucking her pencil behind her ear and crossing the room to crouch in front of them. Broadcasting her every move, she presses a soft kiss to their forehead. "It was my job for thirty years. It's just a relief to find someone that I'm happy to use my skills on."

Caretaker rests her hands on their upper arms and they lean into the touch, despite the pain at the pressure. Tears prick at their eyes. This warm closeness without malicious intent... it's been too long.

"If you get yourself captured or killed I will bring you back from the depths of Hell and skin you alive for doing that to me. So don't. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir." Whumpee glares half-heartedly. "I promise."

[starburr]

Sasha and Marcy thinking how to go about telling Anne they're a couple now but also wanting to clue her in that they want her too, stressing and going over ways to admit it. The inconclusive fears that she would feel too heartbroken or overwhelmed over it and they'd never win her over. Especially when the other two are very lovey-dovey with each other when they all hang out.

It all comes to a head one day when they invite her over for dinner. She's not there yet but they're both panicking at Sasha's place, trying to set the mood. Lights, decor, even the fucking food is as light as possible so that it might help their image of her. The pink hue of the living room is almost too bright but it sends a message well enough, they're just not sure if its sending the message they want to tell Anne.

A few knocks on the door snap them back to nervousness, she's here. They don't have much time to compose themselves again, sweat beading on their skin, their smiles held a bit too long on their faces. But Anne has something else to bring up at the table, clearing her throat as everyone sits down.

"Okay so uhm, I think I have an idea what this, is all about." She seems to fiddle with her purse, dashing as ever even when unsure how to continue with her words.

"First off, congrats on you two, y'know... Getting... Together and all that..." She seems to trail off, her stare now distant and out of it.

Sasha parses the discomfort, about to speak next but Anne fulfills that role.

"And you know, it's nice you want to invite me over to celebrate... Well, you two... I... Hmmm... I'm happy for you two really guys... I just... Well, I, I dunno..."

Uh oh. They clearly had a bit of explaining to do, but Anne is already stood up, excusing herself to the bathroom, powerwalking there.

Sasha stands up to grabs her arm, a bit too firmly maybe as Anne yelps in surprise.

"Annie! Anna-banana, hey! Wait, please... Let us explain... Please, that's, that's not entirely it, please listen to us..."

She seems to consider not listening to her friend's pleas, but relents eventually.

"Sashy... I'm, I'm sorry about everything bad I ever said about you... Fuck it, I might as well admit it in front of you two... That I, Anne Boonchuy, am such a fucking stupid bitch!" Her genuine frustration seems aimed at herself, Marcy can only offer a hug from behind as Sasha begins to gently cup her face, feeling the tears streak down.

"Now why would you, our bestest friend ever, and savior of Amphibia think she's a stupid bitch?" She coaxes, albeit gently. Soothing almost like she wants her to take her time.

After a bit of sniffling and making her the middle of an inpromptu cuddlepile, she speaks again. "It's obvious, well to me anyway. I'm a stupid bitch, because I'm in love with you two!" Ah. They don't know what to say, the tension somewhat relieved but now they have to approach telling her without making it seem like they're only saying what they want out of pity for her. "I know, I know! It's not normal but fuck that, this is what I really feel! I never wanted to ruin our friendship, not after everything but... I just... I really do love both of you, an-" "Ditto." Marcy manages to squeeze out, her throat a little dry and voice shaky from the crying.

"Huh? The fuck? Like the pokemon or, wait what? I'm voicing my heart out? Wait sorry, like what does that have to do with th-" Sasha interrupts. "Ditto. Like not the pokemon. She means the word in the dictionary, sorta means likewise. Or maybe 'same'. That kind of ditto. She was saying ditto in response to you, you saying you love both of us. And let me say it too. Ditto." The crying and wheezing abruptly dies down, only ragged panting from Anne as she sits down on the couch. They can't quite see her face given how she was just hunched over crying moments ago, but thankfully that's stopped. They do hear her say something despite the awkwardness of it all.

"Ditto, you fucking dorks." She even gives a little giggle, perhaps out of relief that she understands.

[selkiemail]

actually love having a Straight Man posse to hang out with. like it's so so important to have friends who know how to make and manage a friend group discord server

[biblically-accurate-dca]

super disorganized sketch page because i do what i want

[virgil-upinthestars]

post ep 5 - SPOILERS

okay okay okay i think billy yeeted them out of the road. we see jen clawing up from the dirt in trailer footage, i think billy just chucked em back to westview. i don't think he's quite there at murder yet, seeing his last conversation with agatha, which? slay king. as a witch and practicing pagan, love him. "no, not for me" you take that negative energy and turn it right on its fuckin head sweetheart. but also please for the love of the gods don't get carried away, don't commit murder, your father would probably have a stroke even if your mother would sit there yelling you're doing great sweetie!!

also i think the reason why rio wasn't there in the last scene was bc she was collecting alice's body. now i'm imagining her walking out, seeing billy standing there alone with lighting coming from his hands and a scarlet witch crown like

[fzjp]

THEM. THEM IS HOME.

Made happy gremlin noises when I put the monster roadtrip polaroid up (one on the bottom, on the right). I'm so happy I got more Damira stuff 🥹🥹✨️❤️‍🔥✨️❤️‍🔥✨️❤️‍🔥✨️❤️‍🔥✨️❤️‍🔥✨️

[aromanticasterisms]

this whole epilogue is just a little treat for me oh my god. "familiar faces arrive in simulanka" does not even begin to cover it

[yakozy]

had a fun time being their enrichment! tucked em in real nice and sweet

ft. bonus little meow meow little wheek wheek so happy he got to fight again

[odysseys-blood]

been thinking about the endings of harue's route and i just think so what if she was being selfish? being in a loveless marriage it makes sense she would give anything just to have her son back. what id give for a mother who would burn away anything, as long as at the end of the day I was back in her arms

[lily-ohfally]

Mild 7.1 spoilers and mentions of IRL death

This is more or less just me rambling about thing I love about Dawntrail🤗

Keep in mind, I JUST started 7.1 MSQ and did not get far, though I wanna ramble a bit about Sphene's funeral and how Gulool Ja talking about his father hit a bit too close to home, not to mention Erenville and Cahciua...

Also, I am not looking for sympathy, I just want to talk about my experience with the whole loss thing.

In the beginning of this year, I lost my mother. I'm still trying to find ways to cope, but XIV has helped a lot in terms of putting my mind off things.. until everything with Alexandria and Solution 9 came around.

My first hard hitting moment was when Erenville learned of Cahciua's passing. The way he dealt with it felt very similar to my own reaction shortly after my mother died. She didn't suddenly die, there had been a lead up, but it was difficult to process nonetheless. The inability to process the information and then the emotions that came with it, it wasn't great. So seeing Erenvilles cold reaction to it at first felt familiar. You need time to think about it, whether you knew or not, suddenly losing someone you love so dearly doesn't elicit an immediate response from everyone, some of us need a little extra time to figure out how to react. I don't have much more to say about this particular part, other than I felt very seen during this part of MSQ.

I briefly went over this on my bsky, but the pensive child and Gulool Ja, both talking about how much it hurts knowing you'll never see someone again, then going on to say things like "I wish I'd forgotten" and such got me thinking.

Would I wanna forget?

No. Absolutely not. The pain never goes away, nor does it get lesser over time. It will continue to hurt me till the day I die. But the love, happiness and joy I have from my memories together with my mother will one day outshine the pain I feel now. It doesn't get easier, but it does get more manageable. Time wont ever heal this wound, the scar will ache just the same. But knowing I loved her and she loved me, my mothers death wont leave me in shambles. I will continue to move forward, with her watching over me. I will live a life I will be proud to tell her about if we reunite in what lies beyond. I will live the life she would've wanted me to live. A happy one.

On a more positive note, seeing Wuk Lamat in MSQ again makes me so happy. I love her so much, thank you for coming to my ted talk

[medicinemane]

Ok, but does it explicitly say in the constitution that the president has to be human

It's been made so clear over the past few years intent will not be taken into account, only word for word from the constitution (and that can be ignored too)

Listen, all I'm saying is wouldn't you rather have a swarm of bees in office for the next 8 years? Or a pigeon they grabbed from outside?

There's so many good candidates that everyone can get behind if we just open our minds

[kyouka-supremacy]

this is halloween and kyotag's new theme has dropped <3 love the colors, love the icon, love little elise welcoming us in your domain <3

Thank youuuuuu ♡♡♡

[furrysmp]

hi everyone, this is my disclaimer telling yall I live in israel so please stop following me if you happen to be in that group of people in this fandom who think everyone who lives here is evil, I already had to remove 10 of my followers who are reblogging stuff that casually mentions how 7/10 was israels fault and that we should all be happy that people I know personally died or lost limbs for being born in a country. thanks

[silverselfshippingchaos]

I READ THE TREE MESSAGES AND YOU GUYS..

/POS OF COURSE

[frillydolle]

need pitfighter vi getting jealous of people eyeing up nice reader at the bar and pulling you into her lap and marking up your neck in front of everyone😇

mean pitfighter vi x sweet female reader

꒰ 𝝑𓏲 ꒱ mdni , vi is touchy , even a little possessive , suggestive near end!

the colour of their names gave me a subtle idea. . .

after a huuge win, vi decided that u two should celebrate with drinks at the last drop. it's not like the two of u would have to wait for such a long time since, by now, everyone knew who vi was. she's gained a.. interesting reputation in the undercity.

and so she's holding ur hand guiding u through the crowd of people, taking u to a slight secluded booth just for the u both but unbeknownst to u, many people were looking at the two of u.

well, more so looking at u.

u were a pretty girl, a happy, bubbly, sweet girl. like u didn't belong in zaun, more like piltover. people couldn't help but look of u, even some of the men within the bar were oogling at u, as ur dress flowed gracefully with each step u took as u followed vi to the booth.

u were completely different to vi, but everyone says that opposites attract, don't they?

and ur at the bar, waiting on the drinks. no one in the place even dared to talk to u, and u know why, it's not like u felt someone's intense gaze om the back of ur head. like a hawk watching its prey. and u didnt mind her gaze too much, in fact, it made u feel all funny inside, like u adored everything moment. vi kept her gaze fixed on u, making sure that no one dared to talk to the pretty girl. her pretty girl.

with that bubbly, sweet smile plastered on ur face as u walked ur way back to vi, placing the two drinks on the table before her hand wrapped around ur waist, pulling u to her lap in one swift motion. and your heart skipped a beat-

“theres my pretty girl, did i make ya proud?” “'course you did, silly! i just worry 'bout you so much, vi..” and a small giggle left ur lips.

soon, she pulled u closer and started kissing ur neck. and u, being the most loveliest girl she's ever meet, moved ur head slightly just so she could gain more access. a stray of giggles following ur actions. and that made her smirk, increasing the kisses that made their path to ur collarbone back up to ur neck.

“vii! what are you- dont put ur hand there! they'll see us!” “..i dont care, i wanna make sure they all know you're mine.”

her hand retraces just from the underside of ur breast, back down to ur sides. her lips trace back up to ur neck before she bite down, just slightly, enough to leave u a bite mark. a lovebite, to be more specific. she wasn't a girl to share specific why would she not let everyone know that ur her girlfriend?

“you're just so pretty, make me want to mark you up in front of everyone here... not like they'd notice.. or care.”

god, her words sent down to ur lower abdomin, the way she talks to u could be so... filthy, knowing her true intentions and yet, u have never complained once!

she gave u another one. and another one, and then another one after that.

“let me take you when we get home, yeah?”

[shoyoist]

── 𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 : hinata shoyo.

content: fem!reader. public sεx in the back booth of a cafe. dirty thoughts, teasing, fingering, a little overstimulation, shoyo is a liiittle mean but he's just so eager to have you!! mentioned pussy eating at the end.

— . ｡˚ ♡ you just can't wait to have shoyo's fingers in you. and neither can he.

one of the first things you notice about hinata when you meet up with him after his years away in brazil, is that his hands are big.

he'd already been growing taller and filling out when he left — but that was nearly three years ago, and seeing him for the first time after so long felt like a dream — because despite looking the same, he also looked just that different. it wasn't just his hands, really — he was big. 

his neck was thicker, the expanse between his shoulder and neck offering much more space for your arms than it used to, as you wrapped them around his neck in a hug. his arms, his chest, his stomach, as they press against yours in the embrace, they feel bigger, more muscular than you remembered.

but what you notice the most, what would be a subtle change compared to everything else — is that his hands are so big. maybe because you hadn't seen his hands properly in any of the pictures he'd sent you, but it was the most surprising change about him.

his fingers that just used to be long and lithe, are now thicker — knuckles tough and edges calloused, the backs of them rosy and tanned and the palms hard and smooth, pink at the rounder points.

and as he holds your hands in his, gives you a smile that pours love and longing and happiness and tender adoration into you as he tells you, “hi, baby. i missed you.” — all you can think about is that you want your pussy stuffed with those fingers of his.

and eventually — because he is after all, your beloved shoyo that would do anything for you — you tell him.

hand in hand, walking the distance from your place to the café you used to frequent together, you tell him that his hands are so nice. 

his fingers are so thick (“look! see how big they are compared to mine?”) and then while you're talking to each other over cups of coffee, you finally tell him — albeit slyly and mostly as a tease, you admit that you want his fingers in your cunt.

what you don't expect is for him to immediately oblige.

you're sitting together at the very last booth of the small, cozy little cafe, away from all the windows and concealed from clear view — and you'd thought it'd be cute to fluster him with a dirty little comment, and get him hooked for when you both get home.

but when you tell him, “they'd feel so nice curling deep into my pussy, don't you think?” hinata stares at you for only a few seconds — before he has you pressed against the back of the booth, one legged hooked over his knees and the other dangling over the edge of the seat as he forces your legs open.

“mhm,” he giggles at your wide eyed, stunned expression, wrapping a muscled arm around you and adjusting your position so effortlessly, as his other hand slides past the waistband of your skirt to palm at your clothed cunt. “let's see how it feels, then. oh — pretty pussy's wet already, huh? missed me much?”

you're too dazed by the contact and the delicious feel of his touch on your clit to form words and tell him yes, yes yes you missed him so fucking much, more than he knows — but you think you missed him more than even you know.

his eyes are brighter than you remember as well, you see as you blink up to meet his gaze— 

his body language, his confidence, it's so different compared to how he was before.

you'd only gotten together in your third year of highschool, and really you'd only fucked once before he left for brazil — but you'd loved him long enough to know.

this isn't the same hinata that you kissed good-bye at that train station years ago.

correction: he is the same — but he's also more. 

you stare, stars in your eyes — and he gives you a handsome, rogueish grin as he slips two digits under your panties and into the slick mess of your hole, like he knows every single thing he's doing to you right now.

to your body, to your mind, to your soul.

it's overwhelming enough, to have the love of your life return home to you after more than two years of being so, so far away from you.

overwhelming enough to see that he has changed so very much, to see that suddenly the sunny, sweet boy you'd fallen in love with has become a fire, a hot searing flame that's ready to sweep you off your feet and singe you, burn you with his kisses and his touch.

but right now, you can't even think clearly about it all — because fuck, fuck, fuck, he's sliding his fingers into you, and it feels even better than you thought it would.

“sh—shoyo,” you whimper, cheek pressed to his chest as he shields your body with his, just in case. “wait, wait — didn't mean right now, i—”

“hush,” he hums into your ear, thumb gliding up to find your clit, and when he presses into the sensitive bud, you can only obey and hush — pressing your lips shut tight to prevent the gasp of pleasure that builds in your throat from getting away.

the café had been pretty quiet and peaceful when you'd both walked inside, and even as you ordered from the counter and brought your trays to the back booth — but suddenly, you're so afraid that people might come and see. afraid that a waiter might come over and see.

“sho—” you try, but he shushes you again, and you feel so hot, it's all so sudden you can't think.

“couldn't wait, sunshine, 'm sorry.” he mumbles into your hair, pulling you even closer, and you feel a little cramped as he tugs your legs even further apart, fingers sliding knuckle-deep into you. “was thinking things the whole time, you're so gorgeous now, can't wait when you're so hot.”

“i—” you whimper again, grabbing his shirt and curling it in your fist. “me too, shoyo, me too.” there's an impatience in the both of you that was hardly satiable when kept apart from eachother, but now, with the two of you like this, there's no way to keep it at bay.

the stretch of his fingers in your cunt is impossible. so much compared to your own fingers, so hot and hungry compared to the toys you use (ones he'd bought and sent home to you during his time in brazil).

he fucks his digits into you like he's been dying to do this to you, like he's desperate to hear those pretty sounds you make in his ear again, like he's been thirsting to make you cum like this forever.

you're going to hit your orgasm so quick, you can already feel it.

you're going to cum slumped in the back booth of this little café, that you'd visited so long ago on your first date with hinata. this little café where you'd first kissed him. this little café where you'd had a valentine's day brunch with him, just two months before he left.

“shoyo,” you can't help the moan that slips out, pussy only clenching around harder his digits when you see the way his eyes cloud with lust upon hearing your voice. “shoyo, shoyo — gonna cum.”

you hope nobody hears you — and you hope that if they did, they'll stay the fuck away and mind their own business, and let hinata take care of you.

you need it. he's so warm, so hot, and he's fucking you so good with just his fingers — thumb rolling your clit just fucking right while he curls his fingers into your velvet walls, giggling under his breath when your pussy squelches messily each time. 

“that's right, baby,” he coos, kissing your hair. “cum for me. nice and hard, mkay? else we might hafta try again.”

his voice cracks so well at just the right moment as he says it — and you don't know if it's the zap of need that courses through you at the sound of his voice breaking, or if it's just the bliss he's giving you with his fingers that makes you cum instantly, but you do.

your pussy wraps around his fingers so tight — your own hand flying up to clamp over your mouth and muffle your cry, as your body finally unfreezes and you crash into your high.

knees knocking together and squeezing hinata's arm between your legs, you fall lax against the leather seating of the booth — cushioned by his body because he still has his other arm secured around you — and you cum. “fuck, shoyo.”

“that's good,” hinata encourages, his whisper hot in the shell of your ear. “fuck, so messy. so messy, baby, how do we clean you up?”

you can't help it — and he's making it worse, curling his fingers in, knuckles digging into your walls as he tries to go even deeper, never relieving the pressure he's out on your clit, god— “shoyo, fuck, fuck.” you’re afraid you might shatter into a million pieces right there on the damn seat. you haven’t had someone else touch you in a long time, and getting an orgasm ripped from you like this is almost too much. “sho—shoyo, please.”

“please, what?” he giggles, still unrelenting, like he’s missed having you like this, like he really can’t be a good boy and wait until you get back home before he eats you up and makes you his girl all over again, for the first time in years.

“not here,” you say breathlessly, gulping down the cry of pleasure that springs up your throat when he lets go of your clit for a moment, only to flick his thumb at the ravenous bud again. “not here, please. i can’t—”

“can’t what?” he asks, almost impatient. he bites at your ear, and you feel so fucking hot, so dizzy with pleasure, but you can’t. not in the back booth of a god damn café, where you could just be caught with MSbY’s newest outside hitter fitting his fingers into your starving little cunt.

you grab his wrist and tug, giving him the most serious look you can with all the stars in your eyes. “can’t be like this, shoyo. not here. please? wanna go home. want you in me. at home.”

his lips pull downwards into a disappointed pout, but he only presses his body closer to you, hot and heavy, his weight so new on you. “you promise t’ let me fuck you like this in your bed then?”

the fact that he can make you blush harder with a few words even as he’s got your pussy full of his fingers is astounding, really. but you feel your face heat up as you nod, telling him you promise. you need it more than him. you need him so, so fucking bad.

with a delighted laugh, shoyo pulls away, almost too quickly and you’re forced to stifle the needy whine you want to let out because you know he’ll be on you again in no time if you act like that. he pops his fingers into his mouth, sucking on your slick, eyes dulling with lust as he gets a taste of you. “let’s go, then. we can have this date later.”

“wh—what about our food?” you can’t even ask before he’s getting up and pulling you to your feet. he gives you a quick kiss, and your eyes widen when you taste yourself on him. god, it’s almost embarrassing.

“i’ll pay for it now, we’ll tell them we’re coming back in a bit.” he grins at you, taking you by the waist and pulling you up against him. “i can think of something else i’d like to eat right now.”

by the glint in his eyes and the lingering taste in your mouth, you know exactly what he means the instant he says it. and you can’t help but blush again. god, he’s such a fucking charmer. “mm, alright. let’s go then.”

“that’s my girl.”