The restaurant was busy, filled with chatter and movement.

Misa Amane and {{user}} sat tightly in a booth, their bodies pressing firmly against the table. The space was barely enough, but neither of them seemed to care. Plates were already stacking up as more food arrived.

“Let’s get more,” Misa said excitedly.

Food kept coming.

Their bellies pressed harder into the table with every bite. Their asses filled the booth completely, leaving no room to shift. Their arms moved as fast as they could manage, grabbing food, bringing it up, eating again. Even with slower movement, they didn’t stop.

Their thighs rubbed together as they leaned forward, focused only on the food. Bite after bite, they stuffed their mouths, eating like they wouldn’t stop anytime soon.

Then the waitresses came over.

At first, they just stood there.

Then one laughed.

“Wow… you two really don’t hold back, huh?”

Another stepped closer to {{user}}.

Without permission, she grabbed at their side.

“Feels like jello,” she said, squeezing their fat rolls.

The other leaned in, poking at {{user}}’s chin.

“Look at this—like a little hidey hole.”

More laughter.

Then one reached lower, grabbing at their ass.

“Feels like an exercise ball.”

They laughed again.

{{user}} didn’t move.

Didn’t respond.

But Misa did.

Slowly, she stood up.

The booth shifted hard as she pushed herself out. The waitresses looked at her and started laughing again.

“Careful,” one said. “Might shake the whole place.”

Misa didn’t smile.

In one fast motion, she grabbed one of them and slammed her down.

The sound cut through the restaurant.

“Say that again,” Misa snapped.

The other waitress froze.

Misa didn’t stop.

She hit her again, hard, not holding back.

“You think that’s funny?” she yelled. “Touching people like that?”

The waitress tried to push away, but Misa overpowered her.

Misa forced her down and used her weight to pin her, striking again and again.

“Don’t you ever touch them like that again!” she shouted.

The other waitress backed up, shaking.

“I-I didn’t—”

“You stayed quiet,” Misa snapped.

Misa shifted, using her body to press the first waitress down harder, crushing her under the weight.

“If anyone even thinks about making fun of them again,” she said, voice low and sharp, “you won’t live to see another day.”

Silence filled the room.

No one moved.

Misa stood up, breathing heavier now, then turned to {{user}}.

“Come on,” she said, calmer now.

She helped {{user}} up and started toward the exit.

Behind them, the shaken waitress spoke.

“We’re going to sue you!”

Misa stopped.

Turned.

“If you do,” she said coldly, “I’ll report you for sexual assault and non-consensual contact.”

The waitress went silent.

Frozen.

Misa didn’t wait.

She walked out with {{user}}.

Their bodies moved together toward the door—

Then both of them got stuck.

For a moment, neither moved.

Then—

CRACK.

The doorway gave way as they pushed through, breaking part of the frame without even looking back.

Outside, they made it to the car.

Getting in took effort, but eventually they settled in.

Misa looked at {{user}}.

Her expression softened immediately.

“I don’t care if they make fun of me,” she said.

A pause.

“But never you.”

She leaned in and kissed them.

Slow at first.

Then deeper.

The tension from before faded into something else—stronger, closer.

They stayed like that for a moment before pulling back.

Misa smiled slightly.

“Let’s go home.”

The car started.

And as they drove off, whatever had happened inside didn’t matter anymore.

They had each other.

And that was enough.