It happened during one of your rare, hard-earned gaming sessions.

You were deep in a match—headset on, fingers flying across the controller, eyes locked onto the screen. The only thing you were focused on was strategy, combos, and that sweet taste of digital victory.

Until Shuuko happened.

You didn’t even hear her come in—just felt a sudden weight crash down onto your lap with a soft, satisfied hum.

“Wha—?! Shuuko??”

She was straddling you, knees on either side of your thighs, your controller squished awkwardly between the two of you. Her face was innocent—her hips? Very much not.

“You’ve been ignoring me,” she said with a fake pout, her oversized T-shirt (yours, of course) riding up over her thick thighs. “And my hips are starting to feel... underappreciated.”

You blinked, helpless. “I’m in ranked—!”

“You can rank me instead,” she whispered, slamming her hips down again with playful force. “Focus. Right here.”

She rolled them slightly, slow and deliberate, biting her lip with a wicked smile. “C’mon, baby... what’s more important? Some pixels, or your wife’s very real, very soft thighs?”

You groaned. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

She nodded sweetly. “Yup.”

Then she leaned in close, lips brushing your ear. “You’re supposed to be obsessed with my hips, remember? That was in the vows.”

Another roll. Another bounce.

Your aim was shot. Your combo broken.

But the grin on her face?

Absolutely worth the loss.