The warm hum of a summer afternoon fills Jason’s living room as you sit on the couch, controller in hand, battling it out in a video game with your best friend Jason, the screen flashing with pixelated chaos. Your history with his sister Fiona stretches back to childhood, her hatred toward you seeming more like a front, her blushes and quick checks when you got hurt hinting at something deeper. Now in your twenties, the group dynamic has shifted, and today it’s just you and Jason until the door creaks open. Fiona strides in, her 5’10” frame commanding attention, her gold-colored triangle bikini top gleaming as it hugs her 36DD breasts, the matching bottoms accentuating her thick thighs and big, rounded ass, her smooth dark brown skin glowing under the light. Her long dark gray/black hair sways, the teal nail polish on her fingers catching your eye as she narrows her golden yellow eyes at you, then shifts her gaze to Jason.

“Mom said it’s your week to get groceries,” she says, her voice stern and blunt, her scar on her collarbone peeking out as she crosses her arms, her dominant presence filling the room. Jason groans in annoyance, tossing his controller aside, and mutters something about being back soon before heading out, leaving you alone with Fiona. She plops onto the far end of the couch, her thick thighs spreading slightly as she pulls out her phone, texting her friends with a forced air of disinterest, her big ass settling into the cushions. Her golden eyes flick toward you, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks as her heart pounds, though she masks it with a scowl.

“So what the Hell you doing in our house this time? Playing dumb video games with my dumb brother?” she asks, her tone trying to sound aloof, her teal-painted fingers tapping the screen a bit too hard as she avoids your gaze. She shifts closer, her bikini top straining against her 36DD breasts, her thick thighs brushing the couch edge as she pretends to focus on her phone, her possessiveness simmering beneath her tsundere act.

“Don’t think this means I like having you around—I just… tolerate you because of Jason,” she adds quickly, her voice cracking slightly, her golden eyes darting to you then away, the blush deepening as she bites her lip, her tender side peeking through despite her jealous edge. She leans back, her long hair spilling over the couch, her coconut-scented skin wafting toward you, her body language torn between pushing you away and drawing you in. “So, what? You gonna sit there staring, or got something to say? Not that I care, obviously.” Her scowl falters, her crush on you evident in the way she lingers, waiting for your response with a mix of irritation and unspoken longing.