#full height shutter | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sweet-as-an-angel · 2 years ago

Text

Two Ghosts One Stone [Ghost x Reader x Ghost]

Warnings: 18+, Double Penetration, Binding/Restraining, Rough Sex, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Stomach Bulging, Manhandling, Dirty Talk, Name Calling, Degradation (Slut-Shaming), Fem! Reader, Mentioned/Implied Aftercare, The Masks Stay On, etc.

Simon watched, his eyes dark and intentions darker, his pants drawn down his thighs. Behind you, Ghost gripped you by your hips, pulled you back so you could feel something prodding you. You gasped.

“Come on,” said Simon, a drawl in his voice; haste. “Hurry up and take her already – we ain’t got all night.” And, the demand hanging in the air, both Ghosts laughed, a joke between the two of them – one you understood all too well. As if Simon’s impatience rubbed off on him, Ghost’s fingers dug into the skin of your sides, making you wince. And, before you could breathe, you felt him – his girth, his weight – his tip had been at your centre, and now, he was halfway inside. You yelped.

“God !” he strained. You felt his stomach to your back – he was leaning against you, as if for support. His breathing, heavy, gave the illusion of exhaustion; of relent. “Fuck, you’re tight, Princess,” he rasped. Leaning forward now, his lips came to your ear. Even through the mask, you could feel his breath, scorching, against your shell.

“Let’s see how loose I can get you by the end of the night.”

Now, rubbing circles into your hips, he erected to his full height, his front no longer to your back, and pulled out. Time was but a pinprick between then and now as he slammed himself inside you – all of him, all at once. And, just as before, you let out a noise of surprise, though this one was subdued – steeped in the beginnings of euphoria. And, just as before, he was heavy. Thick and veiny, you could feel the veins along his cock, bulging and wide as he took you, his breath shuttering, his head thrown back as he let out a yell, short and sweet, a shriek.

And Simon watched. Watched you grip the bed sheets, trying to catch your breath; watched as your head rose to face him, lips parted. The image of his cum drooling from your mouth, you thoroughly used and enjoyed flashed in his mind. He pumped himself once. Twice. He’d coated himself in saliva; a makeshift solution to his aching problem.

His chest fluttered with every breath, chest heaving as he watched you, pumping himself faster once Ghost took to a rhythm. Ghost wouldn’t let you fall far; his grip on your hips kept you glued to him, his praises of “Good girl, keep taking me,” enough motivation to at least try and remain at your spot on the bed. And to send electric euphoria between your legs. You whined, and Simon, still at the wall, gave a minute gasp.

To begin with, with his founding strokes, Ghost made this task somewhat possible, the force of his hips against yours enough to knock you forward, his strength pulling you back. But, as the seconds turned into minutes and Ghost began to lose himself, his thrusts became…stronger. Insatiable.

“That’s it,” he told you through breathless praises, the feeling of his thighs against your backside becoming more frequent, bruising. “Such a good girl–” He pulled out, almost all the way. You scarcely had the time to scream as he slammed himself – all of himself – back inside, sending a stab of pain through your middle. You choked, your breath catching in your throat, and fell forward, your chest to the bed sheets, Ghost’s grip no longer able to hold you. He was gone. Truly and utterly. You could tell in the way he moaned, low and loud and filling the air with dark electricity – a call to arms. He didn’t even reassure you as you tried to regain your breath, tears burning your throat, warned off by the building euphoria in your centre.

“Fuckin’ Hell, Ghost – be gentle,” came Simon, whose voice, gruff as usual, was sharp with territory. His breathing, though hitched as his hand stroked himself, particularly close to his agitated, reddening, weeping tip. Pre-cum beaded from his slit, collecting on his palm as he slid it down his shaft.

“There’ll be nothin’ left of her the way you’re pummelin’ her.”

Even though he was behind you, you could feel Ghost’s smile beneath his mask, felt a weighted darkness pressing on you.

“That’s the goal.” He pulled out all the way and tore his way back inside. You shrieked, moaned, your mouth pressed to the sheets, muffled by the mattress. As little as you wanted to admit it, you wanted them to destroy you, to fill you so utterly and entirely that nothing else existed except them. And it seemed they wanted that, too. Especially with the blackened gleam in Simon’s eye as he picked up the pace, fisting himself with an almost voracious sentiment, his eyes narrowing as he refrained from succumbing to the tidal euphoria building within.

You felt that the ecstasy building between your legs mirrored Simon’s, exceptionally so when Ghost, still slamming into you, forcing you deeper and deeper into the pillows, ceased, pulled you close to him by your hips, and continued, hitting a hidden, wanton angle. Electricity spasmed through you, and you gasped, letting out a breathy moan. Ghost laughed, sly and slender, his hand sliding up your thighs, straying between your legs, drawing ornate patterns into your skin. You shivered, the feeling of his incongruously gentle touch with his harsh, biting thrusts almost too much to bear. You could feel yourself clenching down on him, lips mouthing his cock as if choking on his girth.

His hand, large, rough, warm, slid from between your legs. His palm rested on your stomach while he rolled slow circles against your clit. The static building in your core spasmed, a phantom tendril lashing out. By reflex, your legs tried to close, but Ghost was having none of it. His other hand gripped your thigh, hooked around it and forced it apart. You wailed, unable to shield yourself from his attack. Not like you actually wanted to.

“Oh no, Princess,” Ghost said, his voice a low purr. Simon’s breath quickened, the slick sounds of his solo excursion the vocals to the symphony of ghost ploughing into you. “I want to see all of you,”

And see you, he did. In fact, he watched, observed you – like an experiment. Not that you could see it, rather felt its palpable presence – Ghost’s stare was sharp, razor. He took in the red, sodden, aching mess you’d become, friction marks from where his thighs met yours in a slapping, thumping manner, crescents where his nails had dug into your skin and kept you tethered to him, to the outcome he was forcing you closer and closer to. You could tell you were soaked; the brief chill hitting your backside and thighs whenever Ghost pulled away gave you a horrendously honest look at how desperate you were for the two men. That, and the collation of fluids collecting and rolling down from between your thighs.

“‘F only you could see her, SImon,” came Ghost. His breath shuttered, wavered as he worked to keep his pace, his skin slapping against yours, his hand becoming drenched between your thighs. “If only you could feel her,” he pressed his palm into the bottom of your stomach. And you wailed. Of course, you’d felt Ghost’s dick weighted inside you, but to have you feel him more, pressing your stomach so you could feel his cock against your skin, felt unreal.

“Bet you couldn’t fill her like this.”

Had your euphoria not built to a point where everything was muffled to you, you may have seen the room darken, the atmosphere grow heavy. But alas, you were past the point of oblivion, innocent to the pointed, glaring, fiery stare Simon gave Ghost, and the immediate ceasing of his strokes. Even Ghost seemed to slow, though kept pumping into you, rubbing you, agonising you.

You didn’t hear Simon’s footsteps, the heft of his boots against the floor as he approached the end of the bed, and, with his free hand, grabbed you by your hair. He yanked your head up to meet his, and while you gasped, a shriek died in your throat as Simon shoved his cock into it, stifling you, choking you. You let out a yelp, tried to retract, but Ghost’s frame behind you and Simon’s painful grip on your follicles made such a manoeuvre an impossibility.

“Suck it up, cum slut,” said Simon. Now, looking up at him through bleary eyes, you saw the steel in his stare. He didn’t let you accustom yourself to his intrusion before he pulled out and slipped back in, protruding deeper into your mouth, the taste of salt smattered against your tongue.

“Yeah, wouldn’t want Ghosty here to get upset,” came a voice from behind. You almost turned around, flashed a pleading look to him, asked him if he were intentionally trying to invoke Simon’s wrath on your behalf. But an ache formed in your jaw as Simon used you as he had his hand prior. And, just like Ghost, he was anything but gentle.

The longer he had you wrapped around his shaft, the more potent the taste and viscosity of a foreign substance coated the insides of your mouth, painted it white, drooled and dripped down your chin like saliva. And all the while, you couldn’t stifle or help the moans Ghost drew from you, the vibrations of which seemed to reach Simon as his mouth dropped open he threw his head back. “Fuck,” he breathed, his Adam’s apple thick and protruding just beneath the lip of his mask. Ghost smiled, lips drawn thin beneath his mask. “Looks like Simon’s close,” he said. You could say nothing in response, to which Ghost gave a short, stark laugh – a scoff. A hand reached up to your jaw, gripped you by the cheeks. And squeezed. You could feel Simon’s cock slick against your gums. And so could he.

Before you could accustomed yourself to this feeling, Ghost’s crushing grip about your cheeks, Simon’s pounding, unrelenting rhythm, Simon twitched in your mouth and, with a lasting, gruff cry, became blinded by ecstasy. The after-effects of which you felt fill and drip from your mouth and down your throat.

As if like clockwork, Ghost, his breathing remaining laboured, began to feel loose behind you. His killing pace remained but there was a softness to it there had not been before – a bluntness. With Simon panting above you, his release dripping down your throat, making your chest sticky, and Ghost’s increasingly rhythmless strokes bringing you both closer and closer to your end, your body scorched, ached where you had been used – where you were being used. You’d have cried for a moment’s respite had it not been for how Ghost’s hand slipped to your breasts, held them, squeezed them to his palms. The way he held you had stray electricity shock between your legs, tipped you ever closer to the edge.

“Go on, Princess,” Ghost rasped. His voice was deeper now, serrated – as if his throat was seared with…something. “Cum for me,”

Not that you’d been holding out for Ghost, but something about the authority in his voice, the fact that you had warranted his permission, sent you spiralling. Still gasping around Simon’s girth, he finally looked down at you, and, instead of pulling out, gripped you by the hair again.

“I wanna feel your screams, angel,” he said, eyes half-lidded yet still piercing. And you couldn’t hold it anymore.

White-hot euphoria took your senses, had you hostage to the whims of the two men before and behind you. You clenched, gripped Ghost, to which he made a strangled noise that not even his mask could contain, filling the dense, moist air with a primal growl. You practically shrieked, the reverberations of your staining voice stimulating his softening, sensitive appendage. He grunted, glowered, sucked breath in between gritted teeth.

“God, Darlin’ – fuck – you’re so tight,” panted Ghost, his strokes becoming slower, almost stilled by the force with which you held him.

The fireworks within evolved, dimming with each wave that flowed from your core outwards, leaving you limp. Simon took the liberty of removing himself from your mouth, stroked your bottom, puffed lip with his thumb. You scarcely made out his praise, him calling you his “Good girl,” between Ghost’s panting, his low moaning, and the static in your head.

“(Y/N) – I-I’m–”

Ghost didn’t have chance to finish his sentence for his climax tearing through him, reaching into his soul and withdrawing from him a deep, guttural moan, breathy yet weighted at its centre. You felt warmth filling you from within, felt Ghost still, his pounding no longer stoking your fire, letting you ride the wave with your cheek in Simon’s hand, eyes glazed and lips parted as you tried to regain your breath.

A stillness settled, rearing its head.

At some interval of this quietude, Ghost pulled out, the only indication being the sound of liquid friction and his weight falling back onto the pillows behind. You’d felt little of this – merely a blunted retraction, your lower half growing numb with every second that passed.

“Almost milked me dry,” said Ghost, and while there was a distinguishable whine to his tone, he wasn’t complaining.

“Yeah,” came Simon, taking a step towards the bed. “Thought you wouldn’t be able to hack it, Love.”

You did little in reply save for a smile, reserved and quiet, but a response all the same.

You hadn’t realised yet, but your body was much weaker than before, being that Ghost had thoroughly enjoyed and used you; Simon, too. But somehow, you knew that wouldn’t let you off the hook, warrant an ‘early night’. No, not if the feeling of Ghost all but sneaking up on you from behind, his arms enclosing your waist and pulling you into his chest was anything to go by.

You whined. Ghost growled, gripped you by your jaw and forced your chin to point heavenward, making swallowing very difficult and making some form of eye contact with him facile.

“Oh no, Sweetheart,” he drawled. “We’re not done with you yet,”

“He’s right,” Simon said. The same Simon whose belt now lay wrapped around his wrist like a serpent, one knee on the mattress, his chest puffed with newfound vigour. “He might’ve had his fill of you,” his eyes flickered down to your stomach, a bump having formed there, the culmination of Ghost’s thick load still oozing from between your legs. “We can’t stop ‘til I’ve had you, too.”

Everything happened so fast it may as well have been a technicolour show of memories, time skips and jumps, for during the scuffle (which was really just Ghost forcing your wrists together, Simon tying them, and you whining when Simon forced your legs apart, exposing your already sensitive parts to more punishment) you were bound, restrained and defenceless.

Ghost had finished what Simon had started, prying and keeping your legs apart by digging his ankles between yours, spreading your legs as far as you could allow. Simon slid your bound wrists over the back of his neck, keeping your front open. The look he gave you – veiled almost entirely by his mask – was visible in his eyes; a rabid determination seen only in those with nothing left to lose.

Between the numbness between your thighs and the newfound proofing feeling at your back, Simon edged closer, held himself in his hand, stroked once. He almost twitched, his eyes narrowing.

“Now, Angel,” he said. He leaned closer, his nose an inch from yours. You felt his tip against your lips. “I don’t wanna what any complainin’ or cryin’ unless it’s because your pathetic little cunt can’t take any more of me,” a hand came to your throat, stroked the ridges – your Eve’s apple – still stretched by Ghost’s grip.

You said nothing, but a look of hazy resolve in your eyes told Simon all he needed to hear. He looked past you, to the man behind you, who, when Simon nodded, released your jaw. You almost wanted to celebrate. In unison, they lifted you, Ghost by your waist and Simon by your thighs. The next thing you knew, you were full – painfully so – pressed between two walls of men.

You let out a winded cry, jostled between the idea of leaning against Ghost or taking to Simon’s chest for comfort. The former made the decision for you, taking his hands from your thighs and bringing them to your waist. He shushed you, gently, voice free from condescension and irritation. It was an imitation of comfort, a gesture.

“It’s okay, Princess,” he whispered in your ear. He massaged slow, calm circles into your sides, his hands coming to rest upon your stomach. “It’s alright, breathe for me – there’s a good girl.”

Simon’s expression seemed to mirror Ghost’s, for a softness possessed his gaze, one which encouraged a hand to trail to your cheek, holding it. He wiped a lone tear. “I know, Sweetheart,” he said. “It won’t hurt for much longer, promise.”

Perhaps their altruism was only a show. Perhaps they were true in their comforts, purveyors of their reassurances, for the pain did pass in the minute that followed. And, when you nodded, told them they could continue, the air changed.

Simon and Ghost brought you up and slammed you back down on their lengths, following a rhythm to which, accustomed now, but no longer numb, you tried desperately not to get lost in. Not again.

The embers of your last orgasm ebbed within as the two took you, Ghost’s hands resting on your waist, feeling him and Simon inside you, your stomach swollen. You hadn’t even noticed until you felt Ghost give a short laugh in your ear, and spoke over you.

“God, Simon – have you felt her ?” he said. Simon, looking to where Ghost’s gaze rested, gave a groan. He could see perfectly well what Ghost was talking about; having two men inside you at the same time, two particularly well-endowed men, no less, was bound to have some physical effects on your body, but Simon hadn’t anticipated them to be so immediate, rather assuming them to be an aching between your legs the next day or the inability to walk properly.

You couldn’t help but pay attention to their conversation, one which, while about you, did not include you. Or so you thought.

Simon’s hand came to lay upon your front, and, while he ploughed into you, he felt himself inside you. “God, (Y/N) – ‘m surprised you ain’t burstin’ from the seams,” he said, a deep drawl in his voice. You wanted to retaliate, say that you were, but the vigour with which he slammed you onto him now knocked the air out of you, made arguing pointless. And, as if in competition, Ghost followed suit.

“Seein’ as you’re so eager to get ahead,” said Ghost. “How’s about we see who can ruin her first.”

It wasn’t a proposition.

Simon smiled.

He pulled out, entirely, and threw himself back in. You let out a moan, something between a scream and a whimper. Whatever hopes you’d had of holding out for the whole night were dashed in that instant.

And you couldn’t be happier.

The coil in your centre tightened, the telltale sign that you wouldn’t last another ten minutes if you were lucky. And, given your track record of the evening, you weren’t going to place any bets.

Simon and Ghost’s breathing was deep, heaving, and you had no doubt the masks and the physical excursion did little to help things. Though, the sounds which poured from them – micro-whimpers and whispered moans – existing within the crevices of these pants were too enticing for you to care.

Simon’s hands came to rest on your thighs, where he squeezed your skin, grabbed any conjuration of muscle, meat and fat he could, and uttered more praise to you. “My girl,” he said. “You’ll always be my girl – no one else’s,”

Ghost did nothing to dispute Simon, but the squeeze to your sides suggested he wasn’t agreeing. Or going down without a fight.

A mere ten minutes into this fresh Hell and you already could feel yourself going numb again, the electricity at your centre having grown, your nerves burning with a need for release. You’d have conjured the words if you’d known them, but you feared your mind had been turned to jelly under the competition of the two military men.

You could tell they were close to finishing, what with their breathing growing deeper and more uneven by the second, their thrusts becoming uncoordinated, desperate, seeking any and all solace they could glean from burying themselves within you. And, of course, the praises.

“Doin’ so well, Angel,” one would rasp, while the other would show you their gratitude, moulding your breast in his hand and sucking his mark into your throat.

There came a point where you weren’t even sure you were human anymore, with you still remaining conscious yet limp amidst this exchange. Save for the need to let go, to have the energy inside you now burst free, you felt a mere toy to these men. And you loved every second of it.

“I c-can’t–” you managed to choke out. Simon and Ghost kept at their attack, their pursuit of that which they coveted most; your pleasure. The room, heavy with everything you’d done, was filled corner to corner with your gasping moans, Simon’s guttural growls and Ghost’s grunting. All the orchestra of a dream come true.

“Cum for me, Princess,” heaved Simon. A desperation lay in his voice – one which sought the same release as you, and that only through your climax could he achieve his.

“Yeah, Darlin’,” came Ghost, thick and hot behind you. “Show us how we make you feel.”

And that was the last straw.

You moaned, long and hard, and you came. Your body scorched with fire and electricity, a storm you could hardly keep to yourself as you threw your head back against Ghost’s shoulder, your stomach arching into Simon’s. Your coil snapped, combusted, and you were left a heaving, panting, near-crying mess.

You gripped Simon’s shoulders while Ghost’s front pressed to your back. Within quick succession, one finished after the other, their growled moans carrying through the room and into your mind as, still impaled and overcome with a euphoric exhaustion, you rested against the two men.

You knew they’d take care of you – run you a bath and tend to your every need in the minutes following. But right now, you just wanted to be here with them, feeling their hearts thunder like drums against your skin.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

Taglist: @montenegroisr @projectdreamwalker @animarix @konigsblog @sweetirilly @crystaljade22 [will not be adding ageless blogs]

2K notes · View notes

pin-k-ink · 6 months ago

Text

maelstrom // miya osamu & miya atsumu (pt. 2)

tw ⇢ polyamory/threesome, nipple play, breeding kink, double penetration, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation/name calling, anal sex, unprotected sex, squirting, grinding, dry humping, shower sex, implied marathon sex, kinda rushed ending

wc ⇢ 8.7k

Osamu's ultimatum seemed to suck all residual heat from the stuffy hallway as his words settled over them with leaden finality. For several heartbeats, an oppressive silence stretched burning hot and taut between the twins.

Atsumu's eyes had blown wide at his brother's uncompromising decree, features slackening briefly before that ever-present veneer of bravado snapped back into place. His lips peeled back in a ferocious sneer as he straightened to his full towering height.

"That's your big idea?" he scoffed, voice dripping derision. "Put it all out there and what...just hope for the best? Let the 'pieces fall' and all that overly poetic bullshit?"

Osamu simply watched Atsumu's scathing tirade with an impassive mask, seeming utterly unbothered by his twin's attempt at biting disdain. The muscle in his clenched jaw ticked ever-so-slightly, the only indication he'd even registered Atsumu's barbs.

When he spoke again, Osamu's timbre emerged hoarse but resolute. "You got a better plan besides sneakin' around and steppin' all over each other? Talk is cheap, 'Tsumu. But we both know keepin' up the mind games ain't sustainable."

That seemed to deflate Atsumu's bravado slightly, the fire dimming behind his piercing gaze as resignation gradually crept in. He worked his jaw wordlessly for a moment in clear agitation before letting out a harsh, blustering sigh.

"Look," the blond began again, swiping his tongue across his lower lip. "We both want her, there's no denyin' it anymore..."

He locked eyes with Osamu in a sudden bout of inexplicable courage, daring his twin to rebuke the undeniable truth laid bare between them at last. But the grey-haired twin simply held his stare, seemingly unbothered by such an inflammatory revelation after all this time.

Atsumu pressed on before gathering doubts could fully leech his momentum. "So why don't we both fuck her? See how she really feels when she’s pushed to her limits."

The brazen suggestion very nearly made Osamu's impressively steely facade crumble, if the way his pupils blew wide was any indication. For a handful of charged seconds, Atsumu could have sworn he glimpsed naked vulnerability warring with want and resignation bleeding through the hairline fractures of Osamu's composure.

But as swiftly as the flicker of unguarded rawness appeared, it was viciously shuttered away once more by the grey-haired twin's impenetrable mask.

"You just hear yerself, 'Tsumu?" Osamu rasped at last, the barest tremor of disbelief underpinning his words. "Puttin' it all out there like that...with her? You can't be serious..."

The blond simply cocked one brow in a cocksure display of nonchalance. "Why not? She deserves to hear the truth straight up for once. Instead of us dancin' around it like cowards."

Atsumu paused to let the weight of his boldness fully sink in, watching as Osamu's throat worked subtly around an audible swallow. "We both go all in, show her the whole damned hand instead of keepin' our cards tucked away...Then we let the chips fall how they may."

Silence fell back around them in the wake of his challenge, the brothers simply staring each other down through the dimness. Osamu's expression was utterly inscrutable beyond the tense ripple of the tendon in his corded neck, an unconscious betrayal of the turbulent emotions roiling beneath his careful facade.

When he finally found his voice, it emerged barely above a gruff rasp. "You can't be serious...sharin' her like that, puttin' her in the crosshairs..."

But despite his dubious protests, there was the faintest undercurrent of interest bleeding through the reticence. As if, deep down, the prospect of calling their longtime bluff for real and letting the chips fall where they may ignited a long-dormant spark of possibility.

Atsumu didn't miss the warring desperation and curiosity swirling behind his twin's usually impassive gaze. He knew Osamu had glimpsed the unwavering certainty blazing behind his own eyes and felt the first fluttering tendrils of doubt creeping in through the cracks.

For once, Atsumu understood the magnitude of the moment, the way their entire dynamic seemed to be pivoting on a precarious axis towards...something. Something cataclysmic and inevitable, if the tangible electricity swirling around them was any indication. There would be no ignoring or tucking away this hairline fracture threatening to shatter them from the inside out.

It was time for them both to nut up and confront the undercurrents raging between them, no matter how tumultuous and life-altering the aftermath might prove to be.

"I've never been more serious in my goddamn life," Atsumu rasped in a tone loaded with finality. "No more games, no more pussyfootin' around it. We put everything on the table and give her the chance to finally deal us in...or fold us out for good."

He let the weight of his ultimatum settle between them with leaden finality, watching in eery silence as Osamu's throat worked convulsively around his next inhale. The brothers stared at one another through the dimly lit hallway, the churning riptide of recent escalations and long-repressed wants swirling dangerously in the ether between them.

Only one of them could take the plunge and decide whether they would keep riding the tide towards oblivion, or finally swim for the surface - no matter how agonizingly distant salvation might appear.

The weighted silence that followed Atsumu's bold ultimatum was utterly suffocating. The brothers simply stared each other down through the dimness, chests subtly rising and falling with measured breaths as the magnitude of what Atsumu proposed hung viscous between them.

Finally, Osamu inhaled a deep, steadying breath through his flared nostrils. His pale eyes had taken on a curiously resolute glint, as if he'd already come to some internal reckoning despite the ceaseless war still raging behind that impassive mask.

"You're serious about this," he stated lowly after another protracted pause. It wasn't a question, but rather an acknowledgment laced with something that bordered on...resignation? Acceptance? In that electrified moment, it was impossible for Atsumu to parse the nuances swirling in his twin's carefully measured tone.

The blond simply cocked one piercing brow, neither confirming nor denying. He didn't need to give voice to what was already an intrinsic truth reverberating between their souls like a struck tuning fork.

Of course he was serious - deliriously, uncompromisingly so when it came to the chances of finally shedding these shackles of want, of confronting this all-consuming fire that had steadily burned away any remaining hesitations over the years.

Osamu held his stare for several more weighted heartbeats, the muscle feathering along his jaw ticking rapidly beneath the surface. Then, finally, the grey-haired twin seemed to wilt infinitesimally, shoulders sagging as the burning intensity of his focus dimmed to a resigned smolder.

"Alright then," he rumbled, more to himself than Atsumu. "Why don't you lay out this genius plan of yours..."

"Simple - you and I take turns putting the full court press on (Y/N). Go all out with our...attention and affection for her, while the other watches how she responds," Atsumu explained, voice dropping to a resonant murmur. "Let her feel the weight of our desires separately so there's no deluding ourselves about where her true preferences ultimately lie."

Osamu's throat bobbed with a tense swallow as he absorbed the bold proposal. Atsumu could practically see the vivid implications playing out behind his twin's widened gaze - the three of them entangled in an intricate push-and-pull of heightened tensions and want.

"You can't be serious..." Osamu rasped after a loaded pause, though there was a undercurrent of intrigued curiosity bleeding through. "Puttin' her through that kinda ringer just to scratch our own itches? It's twisted, even for you."

"Is it really any more twisted than this holding pattern we've been stuck in?" Atsumu countered, taking a calculated step closer until their shared breaths intermingled. "At least this way there are no more mind games or delusions. We finally get definitive answers about where she wants this to go...one way or another."

The weighted silence that fell between them was utterly charged, loaded with the unspoken implications of Atsumu's daring proposition. Osamu's jaw worked subtly as he studied his twin through narrowed lids, clearly waging an internal war with himself.

"And if she don't want either of us that way when the dust settles?" he murmured at last. "What then?"

Atsumu held Osamu's penetrating stare unflinchingly. "Then we walk away, lick our wounds like big boys, and move on with the scraps of our friendship intact."

Another laden pause stretched between the brothers as Osamu absorbed the litany of potential consequences awaiting them. Atsumu could see the turmoil and temptation warring behind those stormy gunmetal irises as raw, undisguised want steadily won out over reservation.

Finally, Osamu inhaled a fortifying breath and gave a slow, weighty nod of resignation.

"Alright...lay out the game plan then," he growled, the gravel edge of his tone making it clear this would be a reckoning of cataclysmic proportions, no matter the outcome. "If we're gonna air all this out properly, no more half-measures."

In the days following their heated confrontation over how to finally address the swirling tensions, you noticed a distinct shift in Atsumu and Osamu's demeanors whenever you were around. It was subtle at first - the lingering graze of calloused fingertips trailing over exposed skin as one passed you a glass, or the heated weight of a stare seeming to undress you from across the room.

Little by little, the charged atmosphere steadily amped up each time the three of you occupied the same space. Casual touches that should have been innocent instead carried an unmistakable frisson of suggestion and simmering promise. Weighted looks exchanged over the subtlest of movements that raised the fine hairs along your nape with visceral awareness.

It was as if some unspoken gauntlet had been thrown down between the twins - a sensual game of escalating provocations to see who could stoke your arousal into outright delirium first while the other watched on with rapt intensity.

The first overt move came from Atsumu during a lazy afternoon you'd spent stretched out on the sofa, utterly engrossed in one of your favorite novels. You had been so absorbed in the story, muscles pleasantly lax and unguarded, that you failed to notice the blond's approach until he was looming over you.

"Well now, don't you look pretty as a picture sprawled out like that," he purred in that honeyed drawl that never failed to raise goosebumps.

You startled slightly at the sound of his voice, blinking up at where Atsumu stood haloed by the window light in a way that seemed to set his tawny irises blazing like burnished amber. His gaze slowly trailed from your messy upswept hair down to where your thin cotton top had ridden up enough to expose a tempting strip of flushed midriff.

Feeling heat prickle across your cheeks from his unabashed perusal, you shifted self-consciously and made to sit upright. But Atsumu's palm landed on your shoulder in a stilling gesture as he lowered himself to occupy the sliver of unoccupied couch space beside your hip.

"Don't get up on my account, sweetheart," he murmured, voice dropping into that sinfully deep register you'd never consciously paid much mind to before. "I'm rather enjoyin' the view from here."

He punctuated the suggestive words by letting his free hand ghost down the length of your straightened legs, mapping the supple curves with a heated sort of reverence. You felt your pulse kick up several gears as Atsumu's calloused fingertips traced idle, tingling patterns over your calf working gradually higher and higher up the seam of your inner thighs.

A breathless whimper very nearly escaped as the blond's ministrations inched nearer to unexplored territory. But just before his questing touch could stray too far, a subtle cough from the hallway shattered the heated trance.

Both you and Atsumu whipped your heads towards the sound to find Osamu leaning against the door frame, expression utterly inscrutable as he watched your intimate tangle unfold. You felt a full-body shiver ricochet through you as those simmering gunmetal irises raked over every inch of your and Atsumu's twisted forms from across the room.

For several suspended heartbeats, nobody spoke or even dared move a muscle as the weighted tension rapidly crowded out any remaining oxygen. Atsumu held your gaze boldly, lips ticking up in that same provocative half-smirk while his fingertips continued their scorching caresses mere inches from your core.

Then, wordlessly, Osamu pivoted on his heel and retreated back down the hallway without acknowledgment, leaving that same electrically charged atmosphere swirling in the vacuum of his absence.

Atsumu's eyes burned with banked embers as he refocused his attention back on you, feathering one final searing path down your instep before withdrawing his touch altogether. Still, you found yourself frozen in place on the sofa, utterly transfixed by the oblique game of smoldering provocation that had been unleashed around you.

"You just hold that thought for me, (Y/N)..." the blond rasped in a tone thick enough to lap over your sensitized skin. "That was just the opening salvo, darlin'. Best get ready for whatever encore I have planned next."

With that heated promise seeming to scorch your very marrow, Atsumu rose fluidly and stalked off without another glance - leaving you alone to try and process whatever delirious spiral was unraveling.

The next few days seemed to pass by in a heated daze after Atsumu's bold seduction on the sofa. You found yourself hyperaware of every little gesture and look exchanged between the three of you - searching for any hint of further escalation in their provocative game.

The twins, for their part, appeared to relish drawing out the simmering tension to an exquisite degree. Casual touches would linger just a beat too long, searing your skin with the undisguised promise of something more illicit lurking beneath the surface. Weighted looks were exchanged over the subtlest of movements, drinking in your reactions with rapt intensity.

It was as if they were meticulously priming you, turning up the lowburn of arousal steadily until you were practically vibrating with maddening anticipation of what salacious delights awaited. Simply occupying the same space as Atsumu or Osamu had your nerve endings thrumming with visceral awareness of their virile presence surrounding you.

The breaking point came several nights later as you relaxed in the dimly lit living room with a glass of wine, trying in vain to lose yourself in a book. Your mind kept wandering, utterly unable to focus beyond replaying the memory of Atsumu's heated stare in detail. You could practically still feel the ghosting path of his calluses against your sensitive inner thighs.

You shifted restlessly on the plush sofa, thighs subtly pressing together as a spiral of molten arousal unfurled low in your belly. Attempting to shake off the insistent throb, you reached for your wineglass only to nearly drop it in surprise.

Osamu stood haloed in the entryway with his broad shoulders blocking out most of the hall light. You blinked owlishly, struggling to rein in your rapidly scattering thoughts as the grey-haired twin silently appraised you with That Look - the same hooded, weighted stare that made you feel utterly bare despite being fully clothed.

"O-Osamu," you stammered out on a breathless exhale. "I didn't hear you come in."

Rather than respond right away, the twin simply crossed the room in a few prowling strides to claim the unoccupied armchair positioned perpendicular to the sofa. You watched with rapt fascination as the corded muscles in his shoulders and biceps flexed and rolled beneath the snug cotton tee he wore. Osamu offered no explanation, no greeting beyond admiring the long, lean lines of your body from beneath hooded lids.

Finally, once settled into the chair directly across from you, he spoke in that same deliberate drawl that always sounded like liquid gravel over steel.

"No need to get up on my account, (Y/N)," he rumbled, pupils blown wide enough to nearly eclipse the gunmetal irises entirely. "Just...make yerself comfy there."

You swallowed hard as Osamu's penetrating stare dragged over every dip and swell of your figure boldly. There was no mistaking the undercurrent of heated promise laced through his words, nor the visceral way your body instantly jolted to life beneath that smoldering perusal.

A loaded silence fell over the dimly lit room like a thick veil, seeming to trap the feverish atmosphere swirling between your forms. You found yourself incapable of looking away from Osamu's piercing gaze even as your pulse kicked up into a thunderous cadence against your ribs.

With exaggerated, almost predatory grace, the twin shifted one booted ankle over his opposite knee - a subtle adjustment that somehow made the virile bulk of his densely corded thighs flex and roll mesmerically. Osamu didn't break eye contact as he reached for a small bowl on the side table beside him. Retrieving one of the grapes nestled within, he brought the plump fruit to his lush lips and slowly, deliberately, slid the rounded tip between parting teeth.

A punched-out whimper very nearly escaped as you watched the muscles in his chiseled jaw work to envelop and suck the grape into the cavern of his mouth in one sinfully sensual motion. Osamu's eyes hooded to mere slits as low groan of muffled appreciation rumbled in his broad chest.

"Mmm...so ripe. So fuckin' sweet," he husked before slowly drawing the stem and remnants from between kiss-swollen lips.

You were utterly paralyzed, every centimeter of your sensitized skin seeming to prickle with liquid heat. The tip of your tongue instinctively flicked over your lips as you stared through the dimness, utterly transfixed by the low purr of Osamu's pleasured rumbles and the hypnotic dance of his throat working around each indulgent swallow.

"Y'know, (Y/N)..." Osamu began again in that smoke-roughened rasp you'd never paid too much mind to until this exact rapturous moment. "I ain't had a real, soul-satisfyin' taste in weeks."

He paused to tilt his head slightly, hooded eyes roaming over your body like a physical caress that left molten heat pooling low in your abdomen.

"Care to...indulge me?"

The blatant invitation hung ripe and heavy between you, coiling that slow smolder into an outright inferno in your core. You found yourself utterly at his mercy, unable to look away as Osamu plucked another plump grape and brought it towards those lush, glistening lips in a tantalizing caress.

The weighted silence that fell felt utterly charged, thick enough to trap the feverish atmosphere swirling between your forms in a heated vortex. You watched, utterly transfixed and paralyzed, as Osamu brought the plump grape towards his parted lips in a torturously languorous glide.

His gunmetal eyes remained locked unflinchingly on yours as the very tip of his tongue peeked out to lave a teasing stripe over the taut, glistening skin. A harsh exhale punched from your lungs at the erotically charged display, breath already coming in shallow pants as arousal thrummed white-hot beneath your skin.

"So ripe..." Osamu husked in approval, the deep rasp seeming to reverberate straight through your center. "But I think it's gonna need a lil'...extra flavour to really satisfy this cravin'."

Without breaking your heated stare, he guided the succulent fruit over his bottom lip, leaving a dewy trail of moisture in its wake that made your mouth water uncontrollably. Then, with clear deliberation, Osamu slid the very tip between his parted teeth and hollowed his cheeks around the smallest suckle.

Your fingers clenched spasmodically into the soft upholstery as a rapturous shudder lanced through your core. Every nerve ending felt electrified, as if routing all overstimulated signals directly between your thighs where that telltale insistent throb was mounting toward a fever pitch.

Osamu made an absolutely obscene sound of dark approval around his teasing mouthful - a resonant, filthy purr that punched out your next breath in a broken whimper. Mercilessly, he continued worrying the delicate skin with lips and tongue, savoring every indulgent lap and pull with exaggerated bliss until rivulets of juice trailed over his chiseled jaw.

"Mmm...that's more like it," he growled once the shriveled remains fell from his swollen lips. "But somethin' still ain't quite hittin' the spot yet."

The heavy-lidded look he slanted your way then very nearly made you combust on the spot. Equal parts banked challenge and dark invitation seemed to smolder behind those dilated iron-rings boring into your trembling form. As if silently demanding to see how far you'd allow yourself to be tempted...how thoroughly you'd bend to Osamu's will if he proceeded with this sublimely filthy temptation.

"Though maybe you could help a fella out with that, darlin'..."

His voice seemed to caress every single word - an unmistakable undercurrent of suggestion laced through each thrumming syllable. As if already envisioning you on your knees before him, plush lips stretched wide to accommodate something far more satisfying than mere fruit.

You didn't realize you'd whimpered aloud until Osamu's smirk deepened fractionally, teeth catching his lower lip in a display of pure sin. The way his throat bobbed around a heated swallow somehow only made the demonstration even more erotically charged.

"That's what I thought," he rumbled, sounding utterly wrecked with want despite the veneer of outward control. "Now why don't you come on over here and give this mouth of mine somethin' real to savor..."

The unmistakable invitation hung between you, suspended in that electric ether of roiling tension and smoldering desire that had grown too potent to ignore any longer. Osamu looked for all the world like a panther that had finally roused itself to wakefulness in order to enjoy an overdue, hard-won hunt.

And in that breathless moment, you were achingly aware that you represented the only prey desired - one that was no longer keen to evade the inevitable collision much longer. Not when every sinuous line of the predator's powerful form practically vibrated with the promise of rapturous surrender unlike anything you'd ever crave more.

With that intoxicating revelation, you pushed upright from the sofa, legs feeling oddly unsteady beneath your weight. Osamu watched your every move through heavily-hooded eyes, gaze never wavering as you drew nearer to the edge of the coffee table between you.

When you finally sank to your knees atop the smooth wood surface, his breath audibly stuttered at the sight of you spread out before him. You felt a surge of dizzying power at the reaction, at the knowledge that you had the ability to unravel him even when he seemed poised to do the same.

"That's it," Osamu breathed, tongue flicking out to wet his bottom lip with an enticing glint. "Closer now. Right here..."

You let yourself be guided by the warm, firm grip of his hands, allowing Osamu to position you until your legs were splayed to straddle his powerful thighs. The position left the apex of your thighs hovering mere inches above his own, a tantalizing distance that sent sparks of heat crackling up your spine.

"Now...open yer pretty little mouth for me, (Y/N)..."

He punctuated the command by bringing another glistening grape to his lips, eyes darkening further with unbridled lust. The sight of his lush mouth parting around the succulent flesh was almost enough to make you keen with the sheer visceral impact.

Instead, you followed his command, mouth falling open in a silent plea. Osamu hummed his approval, leaning forward until your parted lips were mere centimeters apart. His free hand reached up to gently cradle the side of your face, thumb tracing along the delicate curve of your cheekbone while he watched your reaction raptly.

Then, finally, Osamu tilted his head to guide the grape into the cavern of his waiting mouth, letting the taut skin glide over his lips and the slick, inviting surface of his tongue. He held the bitten morsel between his teeth, the low groan rumbling from his chest vibrating all the way down to your core.

Your own moan caught in your throat as his thumb came to trace a burning path along the seam of your lips, lingering at the center. Then, in an agonizingly slow caress, Osamu leaned in and slid the bitten half of the grape past your waiting mouth.

You were helpless to resist as his tongue chased the delectable offering, curling around your own with a filthy swirl. The sweet, tangy flavor exploded across your senses, making your eyes roll back into your skull. Osamu's tongue continued its sinful dance, sweeping through every crevice in a decadent tease.

Your lips clung together as he slowly withdrew, both of you gasping raggedly. The hand cupping your face slid back to thread into the hair at your nape, holding you steady as Osamu dove back in for another greedy taste. This time, the hand not cradling your face reached up to grip the plump flesh of a breast, kneading the mound with deliberate, torturous rolls.

"Fuck..." Osamu growled against your mouth, tongue dipping out to lick a scorching path along the seam of your lips. "You taste so fuckin' good, baby. And I can't stop cravin' more..."

Your back arched instinctively as his touch slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, calluses catching on the taut peak of your nipple. Osamu groaned as he tweaked and rolled the pebbled flesh, seeming to relish every gasp and whine that tore from your lips.

"I could spend all fuckin' night just drinkin' you in," he growled against the side of your neck, teeth grazing over the tender pulse point. "Tasting every goddamn inch of you, feelin' those pretty moans and whimpers on my tongue..."

You cried out as his lips fastened over a sensitive patch of skin, sucking and licking with devastating purpose. He continued to play with the pebbled flesh of your nipples through the fabric, alternating between pinching and rolling with just the right amount of delicious pressure.

"God, 'Samu...please!" you keened, head thrown back in shameless abandon as your hips instinctively canted towards his. "Need more..."

You felt more than heard the low, filthy chuckle reverberate against your sternum. Osamu's free hand skated down the line of your stomach, teasing the band of your shorts.

"Yer killin' me, baby..." he rasped against the side of your throat, hips bucking up in a filthy grind. "I wanna give you everythin' yer beggin' for. Make you come so many times you'll forget what fuckin' day it is..."

He punctuated the words with a sharp nip, making you jolt and keen at the exquisite sensations coursing through your body.

"But we can’t. Not yet," Osamu breathed, the gravel of his voice edged with a pained undertone. "We need to keep waitin'."

The words sent an icy splash over your skin, cooling the firestorm of arousal into a confused simmer. You blinked your eyes open, staring down at the grey-haired twin in utter befuddlement.

"Wh-what? Why?" you blurted, the question sounding embarrassingly like a whine even to your own ears.

"Because...not yet," Osamu repeated, leaning up to brush his lips over yours in a chaste caress. "Trust me, baby. Just...trust us."

And before you could protest, the twin was gently extricating himself from your entangled forms, leaving you cold and bereft. Your body still pulsed and thrummed with unsatisfied need, and it was all you could do not to drag Osamu right back to the couch.

He simply pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead and brushed a gentle caress down the line of your arm.

"Go on now, get some sleep. I'll see you in the mornin'," Osamu murmured. "Trust me, it'll be worth the wait."

In the aftermath of Osamu's provocative display, you found it increasingly difficult to meet either twin's gaze without a full-body shiver ricocheting through you. The heated memories and visuals they had brazenly etched into your psyche seemed permanently seared on an endless loop.

You tried in vain to go about your normal routines and regain some sense of equilibrium amidst the unwinding spiral you'd found yourself caught up in. But simple, innocuous moments were now weighed down by lingering stares filled with thinly veiled promise. Every casual touch or shared proximity seemed to thrum with a heightened undercurrent of tension building towards...something.

It was only a matter of time until that precarious simmer finally reached its cataclysmic boiling point.

That moment came several nights later as you relaxed in the bathroom's steaming heat, luxuriating in the deliciously hot spray pounding against your tired muscles. Rivulets of water streamed over your skin, washing away the day's lingering stress in soothing rivulets down your body. You tilted your head back with a blissful sigh, allowing the humid caress to lull you into a light, waking trance.

Which was likely why you didn't immediately process the plush bathroom door creaking open behind you. Or the dual masculine presences that materialized within that swirling, vapor-hazed sanctuary a heartbeat later.

"Well now...isn't this just a delightful little surprise," Atsumu's honeyed drawl seemed to reverberate straight into your very marrow. "Here I was thinkin' we'd have to chase ya down to join in the fun."

Your eyes flew open with a full-body jolt, heart rate instantly tripling as the heated realization crashed over you in waves. Both Atsumu and Osamu stood mere feet away, drinking in the sight of your naked, glistening form with raptor-like intensity. Instinctively, you hunched in on yourself in a feeble attempt at covering your modesty - an action that only earned you twin rumbles of dark approval.

"Don'tcha dare go hidin' that gorgeous body from us now, sweetheart" the blond purred, eyes blazing with undisguised hunger. "We've been awfully patient waitin' on you to come around to playin' properly."

You felt a shiver trace your spine at the raw heat dripping from his words, the promise of sinful delights hanging thick in the humid air. As if sensing your body's visceral reaction, Osamu took a calculated step closer until his silhouette was framed in the shower's steamy glass before he slowly pushed it aside.

"That's it, let go and just feel it darlin'," he rasped in that smoke-roughened baritone that seemed to vibrate straight through your nerve endings. "You know you been wantin' this just as bad as we have."

Blood roared in your ears, breath coming in shallow pants as your senses were consumed by the virile, overwhelming presence of them both closing in like twin apex predators. Despite the embarrassed flush heating your cheeks, you found yourself utterly frozen - utterly powerless to resist the pull of their gravity wells as they steadily drew nearer.

"Don't we look pretty surrounded by all this thick, hot steam..." Atsumu's voice was practically a physical caress ghosting over your overheated skin as he crowded against your other side.

Without warning, two large palms whipped up to splay against the edge of the tub - one olive-toned and the other paler. Atsumu and Osamu leaned in until you could make out the blown depth of their hunger-dark gazes piercing through the condensation. The weight of their menacing proximity sent shockwaves of electric awareness thrumming straight to your core.

"It's got nothin' on how goddamn radiant you look flush and dripping wet like this though," Osamu half-growled in a register so deep it raised goosebumps along your arms. "Makes a fella wonder what those pretty lips would feel like stretched wide 'round--"

"Easy there, 'Samu..." Atsumu cut him off with a rumbling chuckle that somehow sounded even filthier than his twin's lewd musing. "No need to go scarin' her off before we even get started, now is there?"

Dazed and utterly drunk on their sinful words and the blistering heat of their stares raking over every bared inch, you could only whimper. The steam and humidity rapidly became a sweltering cocoon around your over-sensitized form until you felt light-headed with want. Desperate, shuddering inhales flooded your senses with nothing but the scorching, intoxicating amalgam of their virile musks surrounding you from all sides.

"That's our girl..." Atsumu crooned in a molten rasp. "Gonna make this so good for ya, darlin'...better'n you could ever dream of..."

Your harsh pants were the only sounds in the swirling steam for several charged moments. Then...

"Last chance to tap out before there's no turnin' back from this, sweet thing," Osamu rasped against the fevered hollow below your ear, one large palm drifting south to splay possessively low on your abdomen.

Their piercing stares seemed to bore straight through your wavering restraint in that eternal heartbeat's suspension before the storm finally hit. You could practically taste the roiling tension, the unspoken challenge thrumming between their equally corded frames.

Both of them were coiled and ready to strike - teetering on that razor-thin edge of control whose final threads threatened to burn away entirely at the slightest provocation. Every molten nerve-ending screamed in sheer desperation for you to simply give yourself over to their merciless onslaught and surrender to rapture.

The decision seemed to stretch on in protracted torment, the universe itself holding his breath in anticipation of your answer. Finally, with a ragged sob of undoing, you allowed yourself to cant back into Osamu's unforgiving heat while reaching out to fist your other hand in Atsumu's shirt, pulling them both impossibly closer.

The harsh groan punched from the blond's lips as your bodies crushed together in a tangle of feverish limbs was pure, wrecked sin. Osamu's teeth sank into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, growling his own unrestrained approval at your blatant capitulation as you arched against them.

"That's our good girl..." Atsumu panted against your swollen mouth, hands roaming in a heated frenzy over every slick, trembling inch of newly bared skin. "Gonna take such sweet care of you, darlin'. Make sure every sinful dream comes true..."

Osamu's chest rumbled against your back in a resonant purr of agreement, the delicious friction of his hardening ridge grinding against you sending white-hot lances of liquid fire licking straight to your core.

"No more holdin' back, no more fightin' what we all been chasin' too damn long," he rasped, dexterous fingers already seeking out the most intimate planes of your shuddering form.

The urgency only seemed to ratchet higher as they began divesting themselves of clothing with frantic yanks and rustling fabric. You whimpered at the unveiled reveal of Atsumu's sunkissed skin and taut musculature as his shirt hit the tiles. Osamu was equally mouth-watering behind you - all granite ridges of powerful muscle sheathed in olive-toned radiance.

Within moments, all three of you were bare and thrumming in the steamy bathroom. Atsumu stepped into the tub first, calloused palms skating up your sides until he could tug you against his body in one sinuous motion. The searing kiss of his cock branding your lower abdomen punched out a desperate mewl.

"C'mere, sweetheart," he growled against the slope of your neck, lapping patterns of liquid fire with his talented tongue. "Let me show you how to fully let go..."

You barely had a moment to gather your wits before Osamu plastered himself along your backside, the twin layers of scorching heat utterly suffocating in the most delirious way. His massive palms mapped the generous curves of your hips and thighs in a clear claim of possession before hooking under your knees.

"That's our good girl," he rumbled in your ear as he and Atsumu lifted you in tandem, utterly surrounded and cradled by their virile bulk. "Gonna treat you so sweet, darlin'...make you come apart on our cocks over and over until there's nothin' left but blissed-out boneless."

The thought of being so thoroughly, rapturously undone by these two beautiful demigods had your pussy fluttering with desperate, aching need. You would gladly splinter into a thousand pieces if it meant basking in the furious, unholy blaze of their passions fully unleashed without restraint.

For once, you surrendered to that primal side of your psyche without any shred of hesitation. Allowed the liquid lava flow of yearning to consume every last rational circuit until only raw, blazing instinct remained.

"Please..." you heard yourself keen as your body was slowly lowered onto Atsumu's rigid cock. The exquisite, shuddering breach arrowed white-hot ecstasy straight into your core as you wailed into the steamy air, "Oh god...pleasepleaseplease..."

The answering growls of approval were utterly feral, spilling from between gritted teeth as Atsumu sheathed himself to the hilt inside your molten clutch. Your head fell back against Osamu's broad shoulder, eyes rolling back in a delirious moan at the sensation of being completely, gloriously stuffed.

"Fuck..." Atsumu panted, fingers clenching and flexing against the globes of your ass as he attempted to rein himself back from the edge. "Goddamn, you feel even better than I imagined... ‘Samu, spread her wider."

The grey-haired twin growled his wordless assent, gripping the underside of your knees until you were completely splayed out. You keened helplessly as the position allowed you to feel every exquisite inch of Atsumu's massive, velvet steel buried to the hilt inside your pussy.

"You wanton little goddess, just look at how greedy yer perfect little cunt is swallowin' my dick," he panted, hips flexing up in shallow grinds that had his girth dragging torturously over that swollen bud of nerves. "Can't wait to fill ya up and watch the proof spill outta you later..."

He punctuated the filthy words with a punishing snap of his hips that made you scream and jolt forward. The resulting impact ground your clit against his pelvis in an instant, triggering an electric current of bliss to ricochet through your entire system.

"Fuck yes, right there...you love takin' us both, don'tcha sweetheart?" Osamu growled, lips skimming the shell of your ear as his blunt crown nudged your rear entrance. "Let me feel how fuckin' sweet this pretty little ass is while I fill you up."

He punctuated the command by circling his engorged tip around the sensitive, puckered rim. Strong hands hiked your knees up higher and wider, practically folding you in half until your thighs were pressed flush against your breasts.

The position left you utterly exposed and splayed open - a fact that made both twins growl and buck in tandem as the erotic visual registered. You couldn't bite back the shameless whimper of want that tore from your throat at the sensation of Osamu's velvety hardness slipping inexorably inside.

The twin sensations of being so completely filled by them was almost enough to send you flying apart then and there. But they held you pinned and suspended between their muscular bulk, utterly trapped in the most glorious way.

"Yer so fuckin' perfect, (Y/N)," Osamu groaned, hips grinding against the round globes of your ass as he bottomed out. "So fuckin' gorgeous when yer stuffed fulla our cocks and beggin' for more."

You writhed and whimpered, utterly lost to the ecstasy of their combined presence and the sinfully carnal drag of their pulsing girths. A litany of pleas and babbling whimpers spilled from your swollen lips, utterly incoherent beyond begging for more.

Atsumu and Osamu seemed to read your body like a language they spoke fluently, instinctively knowing exactly how to work you apart in the most devastating way. With a snarl, the blond surged forward, capturing your lips in a sloppy, claiming kiss. His tongue swept in to tangle with yours, coaxing and tasting with filthy swirls and languid flicks.

"Mmm...she's so fucking sweet, 'Samu," Atsumu purred, eyes half-lidded with unadulterated lust as he devoured the sight of your debauched form. "Gotta taste that pretty mouth for myself..."

A sharp nip to your bottom lip accompanied the last word. Without warning, Osamu snapped his hips forward, sheathing himself fully inside your tight ass with one punishing thrust. You threw your head back on a wanton scream, unable to stifle the sounds bubbling up your throat even if you'd wanted to.

The two men set a blistering pace then, fucking into your splayed form with unbridled abandon. Osamu's powerful hands gripped the ample flesh of your thighs, ensuring your pussy and ass were spread wide and stuffed full for every single punishing thrust. Atsumu's fingers dug bruising crescents into the supple curves of your ass as his cock pistoned into you.

Both sets of calloused fingers seemed intent on leaving their mark on your skin - a claim etched into the deepest marrow of your bones until nothing but pure ecstasy remained. The molten-steel heat of their engorged lengths sliding against each other through the thin barrier only made the friction that much more blistering.

"Oh fuck...don't stop," you panted, nails digging into the taut muscle of their biceps as you hung suspended and writhing between their muscular bulk. "Please don't stop...feels so goddamn good!"

Atsumu's groan sounded torn from his very core as his hips snapped up in a bruising thrust. The impact of his balls slapping against your skin sent another wave of liquid fire roaring through your core.

"Yeah, sweetheart...take us both like the good little whore you are," Osamu snarled, tongue licking a scorching path along the delicate curve of your shoulder. "This what you needed so bad? To be stuffed fulla cock and pumped 'til yer stuffed with our cum?"

Your answer was a high-pitched wail, head thrown back against his broad chest as his thick length plunged deep into your ass. The sensation was almost overwhelming - the molten glide of their girths rubbing and stroking against each other in tandem.

"Look at ya," Atsumu groaned, staring down the line of your torso where your body was speared open between them. "So goddamn perfect with yer pretty little pussy and ass stuffed so full...just like they were always meant to be."

His fingers trailed down your belly, ghosting feather-light circles over the skin stretched tight from their relentless invasion. Osamu's free hand mirrored the movement, the contrast of their calloused caresses setting off a chain reaction of pleasure-fueled shivers.

"Fuck yeah, we can feel the head of my dick through her tight little stomach," Atsumu growled, fingers pressing deeper to trace the outline of his shaft buried inside. "You see that, 'Samu? We're fillin' her up so goddamn good."

"Hell yeah," his twin rasped, tongue and teeth worrying at the juncture of your shoulder. "And I can't fuckin' wait to see her pretty belly bulgin' with our cum. Markin' her as ours and ours alone."

The thought triggered another cascade of electric heat to sizzle straight through your center, and you were distantly aware of the wet gush soaking your thighs. They groaned and panted, both sets of hips jackhammering with increased vigor.

"Shit, feels like she's gettin' tighter," Atsumu gritted, eyes locked on the point where he and Osamu were pumping in tandem. "She likes it when we talk about how we're gonna breed her."

Osamu hummed his agreement, large hands spanning the breadth of your lower abdomen to press down on the slight bulge from Atsumu's cock. You wailed at the added pressure, vision tunneling with the onslaught of sensory overload.

"Y'like that, darlin'?" the grey-haired twin crooned, teeth grazing your pulse point. "Gonna keep you nice and full with our cum all night...over and over again 'til ya can't remember what it's like not havin' our cocks buried inside ya."

"And once we've gotcha knocked up with our babies, we'll still keep comin' back for more," Atsumu rasped, watching as Osamu's fingers hovered over the slight swell. "Keep fillin' this pussy and ass 'til yer absolutely stuffed and leakin' with our cum."

It was too much - the filthy, decadent promises pouring from their sinful mouths, the way their powerful forms bracketed and dominated your own, the maddening drag and grind of their twin cocks buried so deep within. The pressure building in your core became a tsunami threatening to drown you under the deluge.

"Oh god..." you sobbed, back arching and limbs quaking as the wave threatened to crest. "I-I'm so close...I can't...please don't stop, oh god...I'm--"

"Fuck, she's squeezin' us so tight," Atsumu groaned, forehead dropping to yours as his hips slammed up in a frenzied tempo. "C'mon, baby. Come for us, let go and come all over our cocks like a good girl..."

His fingers slipped down to circle the throbbing bud nestled in your soaked folds, pinching and rolling. It was too much - the sheer overwhelming perfection of it all. You shattered, falling apart into a million glittering shards as the world erupted into brilliant white.

"Holy fuck!" Atsumu bellowed, the sound echoing in the steam-hazed air as his own release triggered a violent, shuddering cascade. His hips stuttered and punched up in a brutal series of thrusts as he came, the warmth of his spend flooding your core and filling every crevice.

Osamu roared as the twin sensations triggered his own climax, burying himself to the hilt and grinding his hips against your ass. The molten flood of his seed seemed to set off a secondary ripple of orgasmic bliss, and you keened and jolted between them as you felt a heavy rush of liquid gushing out.

"Fuck, she's squirtin' all over me," Atsumu hissed, eyes clenched shut as his head tipped back on a wrecked groan."'Samu, you seeing this? Goddamn, that's the hottest fuckin' thing..."

"Holy shit," the grey-haired twin breathed, panting heavily as his own hips continued to buck up in a reflexive grind. "Never seen anyone fuckin' do that before. So goddamn sexy, baby."

Their praise was punctuated by the steady drip of liquid trickling from between your splayed legs, mingling with the water and their mixed release already swirling down the drain. You were too delirious with the aftershocks of ecstasy to speak, head lolling back against Osamu's slick chest and panting for breath.

"Think you've got one more in ya, sweetheart?" Atsumu coaxed, leaning forward to capture your lips in a languid kiss. His fingers were already stroking teasingly over the swollen bud of your clit, coaxing your limp body back into a fevered simmer. "I want her ass this time, 'Samu. Gotta have a taste of that tight little hole."

"Yeah, think she's good to go, Tsumu," Osamu rumbled, hips still flexing minutely to keep the delicious friction going. "How's it feel, darlin'? Did we wear you out enough yet?"

The question was punctuated by a filthy grind that made your pussy flutter with renewed interest. Your answering moan was garbled and incoherent, but the way you pressed back against Osamu's still-engorged length seemed to signal all they needed to hear.

"That's our good girl," Atsumu praised, voice pitched low and rough with hunger. "So beautiful, lettin' us fill ya up and fuck you until yer a boneless mess..."

You gasped as Osamu's cock pulled free of your ass, leaving a trail of warm, viscous fluid dripping down your thighs. Before you could protest the loss, you felt the blunt tip of Atsumu’s cock nudging against the tight ring of your rear entrance.

"Goddamn, you really did make a mess back here," the blond breathed, sounding almost awed. "Just look at all that cum drippin' outta her. 'Samu, spread her wider. Wanna see everythin' as I take her tight little ass."

With a groan, the grey-haired twin complied, using his grip on the underside of your thighs to pull your cheeks even wider apart. A fresh wave of liquid gushed down your skin, prompting an answering moan from Atsumu as his cock slipped inexorably inside.

"Oh fuck yes," the blond hissed, fingers digging into the supple flesh of your ass as he began pumping shallowly. "You feel so goddamn good, sweetheart. Yer such a good little slut, taking both our cocks like this."

The filthy words made your spent pussy clench, spurring Osamu's fingers into a blur of motion over the swollen bud. His own cock was pressed up along your spine, shamelessly rutting against the slick valley of your back while his brother slowly fucked into your ass.

The rest of the evening devolved into a fevered, filthy haze of sin and sensation. At some point, Atsumu and Osamu shifted you off the shower and back into the bedroom. But you were too blissed-out and overwhelmed to register much more beyond the constant, delicious stretch and drag of their cocks pumping in and out.

Your throat was raw and hoarse by the time Atsumu and Osamu finally declared the marathon over, only once you were utterly spent and covered in a sheen of sweat and drying release. You barely registered being tucked into the middle of the massive bed, cocooned in a nest of soft blankets and wrapped between two solid walls of male bulk.

Sleep claimed you instantly, pulling you into the deepest, most restful slumber you'd had in ages. And you never noticed the silent exchange between the twins, or the shared glance of satisfaction and smug contentment as they settled in on either side.

You were awoken the next morning to the sensation of a pair of soft lips suckling at your nipple. Your eyes flew open with a gasp, only to find Atsumu's dark gaze peering up at you from the valley of your breasts. He flicked his tongue out to swirl teasingly around the pert bud, humming with pleasure as his eyes slipped shut in an expression of rapture.

"Good morning, sweetheart," he purred, the silky timbre sending delicious shivers through your form.

"Morning, Tsumu," you whispered, the words catching in a gasp as he took the nipple fully into his mouth, suckling and swirling.

The action triggered a fresh rush of moisture between your thighs, and the blond growled as he felt your hips instinctively cant up against his hardness. His palm skated up your bare side, cupping the other breast and rolling the stiff peak between his thumb and forefinger.

Atsumu was suddenly yanked back, and you found yourself blinking in dazed confusion at Osamu's looming presence as the grey-haired twin's arm pinned his brother to the mattress.

"I told you to let her sleep in," Osamu snarled, his baritone even rougher with sleep. "You've been rutting against her all damn night and need to learn some goddamn self control."

His eyes shifted to your startled form, and his gaze instantly softened. You could practically see the gears turning behind those stormy depths, the way he was mentally cataloging your disheveled state and assessing the situation. "Besides, we’re supposed to let her decide who she wants, once and for all."

You sat up slowly, your mind still hazy from sleep and the events of the previous night. Confusion etched across your features as you looked between the two brothers, trying to make sense of Osamu's words.

"What do you mean, 'decide who I want'?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Atsumu managed to wriggle out from under Osamu's arm, sitting up and running a hand through his tousled hair. "We had a deal," he said, a hint of mischief in his eyes despite the tension in the room. "We both wanted you, so we agreed to let you choose between us after last night."

Osamu shot his brother a glare. "You make it sound like some kind of game," he growled. "This is about her feelings, not just our own."

As the twins bickered back and forth, you felt a sudden surge of clarity amidst the confusion. "Wait," you interrupted, your voice cutting through their argument. "Do I... Do I really have to choose?"

The room fell silent, both brothers turning to look at you with surprise. Atsumu's eyes widened for a moment before a slow, suggestive grin spread across his face. "Well, well, well," he purred, his voice dropping to a low, seductive tone. "Looks like our girl might be kinkier than we thought, 'Samu."

Osamu's gaze met yours, a flicker of understanding passing between you. "Is that what you want, sweetheart?" he asked softly, his voice laced with a tender warmth that made your heart flutter. "You want both of us?"

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks, but you held Osamu's gaze steadily. "I... I don't know if I can choose," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I love the both of you so much, and last night was..."

Atsumu's grin widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Hear that, 'Samu? We rocked her world so hard, she can't even pick a favorite."

Osamu rolled his eyes at his brother's antics, but a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He leaned in closer to you, his hand gently cupping your cheek. "If that's what you want, baby girl, then that's what you'll get," he murmured, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. "We'll just have to make sure you're thoroughly satisfied... by both of us."

Atsumu chuckled, his fingers trailing teasingly along your arm. "Hope you're ready for round two, princess. And three, and four..."

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader smut #miya osamu x reader smut #miya atsumu x reader smut #miya osamu smut #miya osamu x reader #miya atsumu smut #miya atsumu x reader

363 notes · View notes

heian-era-housewife · 7 months ago

Text

Not in a Thousand Years

Synopsis | Ryomen Sukuna, King of Curses, thought he had seen and heard it all...until now.

Content | Fluff, brief Sukuna tears

Word Count | 657

While no day on earth with Ryomen Sukuna could ever truly be considered "normal", this one was, you thought to yourself quietly, as normal as they ever may come. And while you reveled in awe at the unique and utterly unparalleled situation from which your relationship with the King of Curses was blossoming, this simple moment, free of transcendental fanfare, was easily the best you could remember.

Ryomen Sukuna, creature of the night, God of the Heian Era, looked out of place -- anachronystic -- sitting beside you on a park bench, four crimson eyes squinting against the warm afternoon sunlight. Your feet swung slightly as you traced the veins in his chiseled hand, humming softly into the rugged arm on which you were leaning.

All day long a seed of affection had been growing within you, and as you sat there drinking him in, feeling his warmth, both of you here in this deliciously ordinary moment, you found yourself smiling up to meet his gaze, words spilling beyond your lips before you could fully comprehend their weight.

"Ryomen...I love you."

=CRACK=

In an instant the glowing sunlight was sucked away, replaced with darkness that threatened to swallow your soul. Dumped harshly from the park bench, you landed on hands and knees, bloodying them from the intensity of the impact. Your brain reeling from the sudden change, you barely registered that you were kneeling in water that reflected the skulls and bones strewn about the darkened chamber.

Fear shot through you in panicked waves. Not from your gruesome surroundings, but from the sudden realization you were no longer beside Sukuna.

Wide-eyed and half-crazed you strained your eyes against the darkness. Had he been attacked?

"RYOMEN?!" You cried.

Getting up from the sodden ground, you spotted his shadowed form against the chamber's scarlett glow. Footsteps echoing as you splashed your way toward him, you watched as the King of Curses, knelt on all fours as if wretching onto the ground, lifted a powerful hand and struck himself brutally across the face.

"RYO!!!" You shrieked, closing the gap with inhuman speed and reaching out to take his face in your trembling hands. As you cupped his graven cheeks, something warm and wet met your palms. You tilted his face toward you to find four delicate streams of salty tears glazing his stricken face.

"Ryo... I-"

Closing his eyes against the shame of being seen in such a pitiful state, he lifted a single imposing hand to halt your faltering words.

Eyes still closed, he spoke to you in a low and gravelled voice.

"Forgive me." A phrase the King of Curses seldom dared to utter.

"Ryo where are-"

"I've brought you to my domain." He answered before you could finish the question.

Swallowing hard and drawing a shuttering breath, he drew himself to one knee, water rippling around his robes, as he took one of your small, worried hands into two of his.

"I have been alive for over a thousand years." He continued. "Housed in vessels across the eras. At times, sealed away biding my time with nothing more than my own thoughts. I've seen war and famine. Peace and prosperity. Ruled a nation. Basked in the awe of worshipful subjects...I thought I had seen and experienced all that was and ever will be."

He drew another breath as he lifted his face to meet your mournful gaze.

"But never once, across a hundred lifetimes, has anyone spoken those words to me."

Your expression grew quizzitive as you fought to keep up with what he was saying. Seeing the question in your eyes he drew himself to full height, wrapping his arms around you, engulfing you fully in his towering embrace.

The darkness melted away as he released his domain. Sunlight shone beyond your closed eyelids. Warmth rejuvenated your trembling body.

Placing a tender kiss upon the very top of your head, Sukuna answered, "I love you too."

#jjk x reader #jjk sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna #sukuna

183 notes · View notes

juliasgoodusername · 2 years ago

Text

Sometimes a girl has to go a little crazy. Sometimes a girl has to make a book-accurate floorplan for 300 Fox Way. These things just happen, sometimes.

Obsessive annotations under the cut ✨ but be warned, there's a LOT

Exterior

Okay first of all, I'm no architect, and my only knowledge comes from work experience in the real estate industry + a lot of Sims. The style is sort of neo-rural French colonial. I didn't set out to adhere to that standard so much as I made an amalgamation of homes in Blue Ridge Mountains-adjacent towns in Virginia. Specifically, my headcanon Henrietta template is Orange, VA (I'll save that explanation for another post) so I took inspiration from real estate listings from there.

Alright alright I know there is supposed to be one bathroom, but I simply can't tolerate that in a house with 6+ residents. I can't. There was a possible contradiction in the descriptions of "the single shared bathroom" that I used as an excuse to add a 3/4 bath, and I threw in a powder room for free. Because technically there is still only one full bathroom! But seriously with that many women over 30 most of them probably have IBS or chronic constipation and I'm not making them all share a toilet.

Officially we only have 4 bedrooms listed in text: Blue's, Persephone's, Maura's, and Calla and Jimi's shared one. Everyone else gets rooms that don't qualify as bedrooms via Virginia residential building codes (such as the attic, obviously, which falls below the combined ceiling height and square footage requirements). That really just leaves Orla unaccounted for but I'll get to that later. Other aunts and friends seem to visit during the day and live somewhere else, because in The Raven King only Jimi and Orla were described as needing to move out of the house during the demon stuff.

I designed the entire interior floorplan before I even touched the exterior, so there's a few issues, like how I'm totally missing shutters on the windows that functionally need them most. 🫶 I didn't feel like making the windows smaller to fit them, and I could have added faux-shutters but I think those are stupid. 😘

First floor

"This house is lovely. So many walls. So, so many walls," Malory said as Blue entered the living room a little later.

- Blue Lily, Lily Blue, Chapter 30

Right off the bat, we have an insane number of doors and walls. Old colonial houses are pretty much the opposite of open concept. Functionally I believe that's because it's easier to control heat with closed off rooms, but Virginia is not particularly cold so idk. As for the number of doors, I mean....😤😤😤 I prefer archways/doorless frames in small high-traffic spaces, but every time I thought I could get away with it Maggie would specifically describe doors opening and closing (For example BL,LB Ch 41 gives the reading room double doors, and even the living room gets one in Ch 11. What kind of living room needs a door???). I'm actually missing one of the doorways described in canon, but if you know which one I'm talking about I DARE you to find a place to put that thing!! But I digress.

“Mom," she said as she jumped down the crooked stairs.

- The Raven Boys, Chapter 3

I'm liberally using "crooked" to establish the corner turn stairs. Blue steadies herself on the stair railing when she identifies Gansey for the first time (TRB Ch 15), so I wanted the stairs to have good visual access to visitors. It also sort of has a feng shui-ish effect of separating the public and private energy zones in the house. If that statement made zero sense, I think one of us doesn't know enough about feng shui 👀 and it might be me.

I'm also using that quote to establish Maura's room downstairs, if Blue generally expects to find her mother there, but mostly because everything else was upstairs and it was getting hard to fit. Granted, at one point Blue leads the boys "up the stairs to Maura's bedroom" (TDT Epilogue) but since they were just arriving at 300 Fox Way those stairs could easily be the outdoor ones. There's a handful of little things to support me here, such as Adam grabbing a scrying bowl from Maura's room to use in the reading room (BL,LB Ch 41) implying that her room was the closest place to find one. And speaking of Maura's room-

Calla was overwhelmed by how much shit Maura had in her room at 300 Fox Way, and she told Blue this.

... The mess was taking years from her life. ... Maura liked chaos.

... The psychic hotline rang in the room next door. Calla's concentration fluttered away.

- Blue Lily, Lily Blue, Prologue

Maura is my favorite hypocrite. She claims to detest clutter (TRB Ch 34) and yet her room is literally described as chaos. She probably treats her room like a college student and moves the furniture every time she gets bored/stressed. Thus, I gave her the most insane furniture configuration I could think of while still matching all the contents described.

The phone ringing next door might imply that she neighbors the phone/sewing/cat room, but that area is pretty well described and Maura's room is never mentioned there in any other instance. That leaves us with the kitchen phone (TRB Ch 27) which I put in the hallway with kitchen access as a compromise so it would technically still be in a room next to Maura's.

In the reading room, the man looked around with clinical interest. His gaze passed over the candles, the potted plants, the incense burners, the elaborate dining room chandelier, the rustic table that dominated the room, the lace curtains, and finally landed on a framed photograph of Steve Martin.

- The Raven Boys, Chapter 13

There are so many quotes about the reading room that I just don't feel like citing them, but other details include the mismatched chairs, the shelves, doors etc. It's also described specifically as Maura's "front room" (TRB Prologue) so it's one of the cornerstones that I designed the rest of the layout around. Because of the plants, it makes sense that this room would be south-facing too. (Although idk how much light they get with the wraparound porch awning in the way. Oops lol!)

The outside suddenly seemed vivid in comparison to the dim kitchen. The April-bright trees pressed against the windows of the breakfast area, ...

- The Raven Boys, Chapter 3

Blue Stormed into 300 Fox Way's kitchen and began a one-sided interrogation with Artemus, who was still hidden behind the closed storage closet door.

- The Raven King, Chapter 9

Likewise, I'm using the particularly dim kitchen to place it on the north side, where we also know there's trees in the backyard.

I'll say the kitchen layout is weirder than it strictly needed to be because in the Virginia homes I referenced I adored all the strange kitchens, especially with old timey 'servants area' vibes where laundry kitchen and pantry are all connected. Instead of a kitchen island, they get one of those rolling kitchen carts which I doubled as a bar cart for the drinks they have in the living room.

The kitchen has a doorway to the hall (TRB Ch 13) and the living room is within view when Blue's on the kitchen phone (Ch 27).

Speaking of chapter 27, that's when we get the description "The morning light through the windows turned the drinks a brilliant, translucent yellow." So I put the living room on the east side of the house, where the rising sun would cast really strong light like that.

Second Floor

When she woke up, her normally morning-bright room had the breath-held dimness of afternoon. In the next room over, Orla was talking to either her boyfriend or to one of the psychic hotline callers.

- The Raven Boys, Chapter 3

Blue headed toward the red-painted door at the end of the hall. On her way, she had to pass the frenzy of activity in the Phone/Sewing/Cat Room and the furious battle for the bathroom. The room behind the red door belonged to Persephone, ...

- The Raven Boys, Chapter 11

Blue's room and the Phone/Sewing/Cat room are our cornerstones for this floor. In several examples we know that the Phone/Sewing/Cat room faces the street and has a window (TRB Ch 15, BL,LB Ch 4). While Blue's room is "morning-bright," we also get descriptions of guests at the front door "backlit by the evening sun," (TRB Ch 15) so once again we're probably talking about south windows if it's sunlit at both times of day.

Adam sat awkwardly on the edge of Blue's bed. It felt strange to have so easily gained access to a girl's bed- room. If you knew Blue at all, the room was unsurprising - canvas silhouettes of trees stuck to the walls, leaves hanging in chains from the ceiling fan, a bird with a talk bubble reading WORMS FOR ALL painted above a shelf cluttered with buttons and about nine different pairs of scissors. Against the wall, Blue self-consciously taped up the drooping branch on one of the trees.

- The Dream Thieves, Chapter 49

We get some great descriptions of Blue's room (especially TRB Ch 43), although the above one is my favorite (#wormsforall). Every piece of furniture is accounted for exactly as described except the desk which I added because it seemed practical, and Blue is nothing if not practical™.

Persephone's room is also very well-described, all the way down to the furniture and lighting placement (BL,LB Ch 4 and TRB Ch 11) and it's surprisingly similar to Blue's room, if not a bit smaller. Her room gets strong afternoon sunlight, so I put it on the south too (BL,LB Ch 43).

Calla and Jimi share a room that's also upstairs (TRK Ch 16). Because they are the only two who have to share a room, I have justified that it must be the "master bedroom" (sorry for using that term) and is far bigger than the other bedrooms. I managed to fit two queen beds in there, but some scholars [me] would argue that Jimi and Calla might also share a bed because they are in love. Can you prove me wrong? No, you can't.

As for the bathroom, remember when I mentioned a possible contradiction? Famously, Maura draws the ley line symbol in the steamed up shower door (TRB Ch 1). However, much later we get Maura, Orla, Calla and Jimi all sitting in the bathtub for some kind of ritual (TRK Ch 9). No matter how I picture it, I can't put 4 full grown women in a bathtub together without someone partially sitting on/spilling over the side. But that would be impossible in a combo bath/shower enclosed by glass doors!! Thus, I gave The Bathroom a nice tub and put a small shower in the en suite of Jimi and Calla's room. I know this is a stretch but I don't really care.

Attic

Blue had never been a big fan of the attic, even before Neeve moved in. Numerous slanting roof lines provided dozens of opportunities to hit your head on a sloping ceiling. Unfinished wood floorboards and areas patched with prickly plywood were unfriendly to bare feet. Summer turned the attic into an inferno.

... In one of the narrow dormers, two full-length, footed mirrors faced each other, reflecting mirrored images back and forth at each other in perpetuum.

- The Raven Boys, Chapter 34

Trying to fit the attic access in after everything in the second floor was my biggest challenge, because stairs normally take up a lot of space and you have to be careful about head room. I'm the end, I decided it was one of those fold out attic doors that you have to reach from the ceiling of the hallway. We might get a lot of instances of the attic door being opened (😤 seriously, Maggie... 😤) but technically a trap door in the ceiling is still a door!

Dormers pretty much cemented the French colonial style for me. And you know the drill by now: a hot room probably means a lot of sun, which means I give it a south facing window!

Mud Room/Cellar/Basement

This cellar has absolutely zero mention in the text, but my justification is based in the architecture. So far we've got a funky old colonial house, built without a garage, lots of walls etc. Especially in a low-income/semi-rural area, it's not crazy to assume that 300 Fox Way was built before most residents had refrigerators (1930s-40s). Besides iceboxes, a major way to keep food fresh was root cellars. Modern renovations for old homes convert these to concrete basements, but that's why the basement is so small and connects to the kitchen.

My headcanon is that Orla originally shared a room. Pick whoever you want: Maura, Blue or Persephone, any of them would easily be such a chaotic roommate that Orla snapped and in a fit of teen girl rage moved herself down to the crummy dark basement. Over time, she made efforts to glamorize it, such as a vintage dressing screen to hide the flood drainage pump. The privacy also allows her to bring boyfriends over, even sneaking them through the mud room.

This is really just my artistic license, but I swear it makes a surprising amount of sense in context. There's cases of Orla sneaking into the kitchen (easier if she has a back entrance) and she's almost always using the phone upstairs or in the kitchen (because a basement would get bad reception) even though her calls get kinda ~intimate.

Aaaaaand I think that's everything. Sorry it doesn't look like the photo from the wiki at all, but I couldn't find a source for it and Victorian style wasn't super common in the areas I researched. Let me know if I missed anything major! I'll probably cry myself to sleep if so.

#happy hyperfixation friday everyone #January was a weird month for me ngl this was one of my more hinged projects if you can believe it #please don't let this flop tho like this definitely took longer than any drawing I've ever posted here #trc #the raven cycle #the raven cycle fanart #300 Fox Way #Blue Sargent #the raven boys #my art #trc unraveled

3K notes · View notes

woodcraftshutters · 9 months ago

Text

Full Height Shutters

Discover the elegance of Full Height Shutters by Woodcraft Shutters. Elevate your space with timeless design and customizable options. Crafted with precision, these shutters offer privacy, light control, and insulation while enhancing the aesthetic appeal of any room. Visit our website for more information.

#Full Height Shutters #shutters near me #Woodcraft Shutters

0 notes

calamiitywrites · 3 months ago

Text

— qimir x reader

trigger warning: graphic scenes and descriptions of violence, blood and death. please proceed with caution.

request via ask: "I actually would like to request a one shot or maybe even a story where the reader ( or an oc doesn't matter ) is hunting Jedi for her own reasons and is on her way to becoming a sith, but she's terrified of her force because it's not only powerful, but full of rage so needless to say it stems from the dark side. I don't want her to replace Osha or Mae, in fact I want them included in the story. however, I do want Qimir to end up teaching this character. Add some seduction of course, some mystery and I want it from the character's pov. I know this idea is all over the place and I'm not giving you much to work with but I would definitely like to see him interact with this character who could learn a lot from him but has the potential to be a stand alone character herself."

note from author: I think I understand the gist of what you're requesting so I will definitely interpret it in my own way. Please let me know if this is what you had in mind :) also, sorry it's so long, I had to introduce the character first haha!- calamiity

There's a distant hum that tickles at her brainstem and finds itself traveling down to the pit of her stomach. she should be weary of this sensation because it was nothing more than the force riddling through her body. decorating her veins in a fire that could coat the 7 levels of hell in different degrees of flame. What kind of beast had she become to worship a power that made her feel this way? The moonlight, a silvered blade slicing through the night did nothing to hide her or shield the outside world from seeing what she truly was, a beast in human form. it whispered to the stars about her, but the sky was her only companion. Without judgement, It listened to her battle cries and the pleas of the Jedi that she cut down mercilessly. Crimson clung to her robes and dripped slowly down the exposed pieces of her face outlined by the fabric that covered her nose and lips. the deep red of it was in complete contrast to the darkness reflected in her irises. She had allowed the force to nearly consume her from the inside out and the eerie abundance of obsidian that nearly took over her entire vision told her that she had gone too far tonight. Her power — a forbidden curse with a seductive allure. The force must be exercised and properly managed, but the emotions beneath the surface of her consciousness were far too powerful for tradition. Wrath, Loss, Pain and Vengeance. They all danced the danse macabre within her soul, drenching it in affliction. there was no turning back now. Her veins were like molten lava, but they were chilled by the sound of the whimpering jedi that lay at her feet. Before she could stop herself, her eyes wandered to the delicate skin under his chin and she could feel the power of the force expand and contract around his throat. It took half of a second for her to realize that he was choking. a gentle tilt of her head was the only give away to her true curiosity. could she really end his life this way? how long would it take? A thread, a piercing silver stream of light slid through the forefront of her mind and she followed it. It broke off to her left and her eyes caught movement behind the shop window that sat uncloaked. It occurred to her that the 4 jedi she had murdered in front of the shop window was witnessed by someone. rather or not she was wearing a mask didn't matter, the idea of being seen in her most volatile state nearly made her shutter. however, there was no turning back now. With the distraction of the hidden bystander, the once choking jedi had gotten up and began sneaking away. She couldn't let that happen. Refocusing, she retrieved his lightsaber and ignited it with deliberate slowness. Aligning her gaze with his position, she extended her left arm to match his height, letting the dark blue blade hover above her other hand. Once she was certain of her aim, she harnessed the Force and propelled his saber like an arrow. It flew straight and true, embedding itself in the center of his back and causing him to collapse lifelessly where he stood. She turned back to the glass in search of the movement that she had seen before, but there was nothing. although she was sure that the person was still there, there was no reason to pursue them. instead, she flexed her force once more to create a smoke screen and vanish into the night where she had come. The night’s embrace was both her refuge and her torment, and as the echoes of her power faded into the void, she was left with the haunting realization that the greatest battle she would ever face was not against her foes, but against the seduction of her own darkness.

Her ragged gasps were the only thing that filled her ears as she removed the bloodstained robes that clung to her skin. A bath would do her some good, but it wasn’t until she was completely bare that she noticed the weight missing from her belt—the sai dagger made from cortosis was gone. Panic surged through her as she realized she must have dropped it during the chaos. however, she couldn't go back to that shop now. the bystander from before had already seen her cloaked figure, if she chanced it now then he would most likely get a glimpse of her. her best bet would be to return in the morning disguised as a merchant.

At first light she followed through with her plan to return to the shop where she had committed the atrocities from the night prior. it was strange to see that the fallen jedi had been removed, the ground cleaned and the sound of murmuring voices questioning if the chaos they heard about last night was even real. "I heard it was a rumor." said one store vendor. "No way, there have been many Jedi killings over the past few days. You heard about that cloaked figure that went after Indara a few nights back?" another spoke.

She paused for a brief moment at the name, she had never killed a jedi named Indara....perhaps there was another seeking out revenge? either way, it made her job easier. one less monkey for the zoo.

"I heard it was a drunk bar fight that went wrong and that they turned on each other." she chimed in. if everyone was going to put out some gossip, she might as well add her tidbit to throw them off a bit.

"There have been a lot of them spotted at the pub lately." the older woman agreed.

She hid the half hearted smile that graced her lips when she turned away from them, but her heart sank as she locked eyes with her missing dagger prominently displayed, as if it were for sale, in the window of the shop from last night. The idea of it being displayed as a trinket for someone to snag it nearly made her mouth run dry. She knew she had to retrieve it before the blade—or its significance—fell into the wrong hands. but how?

#qimir the acolyte #qimir x reader #qimir fanfic #mae x qimir #osha x qimir fanfic #osha x qimir #star wars qimir #the acolyte spoilers #the acolyte fanfic #the acolyte #manny jacinto fanfic #manny jacinto

73 notes · View notes

mymegrokosmos · 14 days ago

Text

"You good?"

Your head whipped around at the voice, the laughter warm in every word. He was smiling when you craned your head from where you knelt, struggling with the zipper on your backpack, to look at him. Of course he was. Jeong Yunho, class clown and unofficial prince of your whole cohort.

You snorted, rolling your eyes at the pretty man fiddling with the strap of his bag. "I'm fine. You can check off your quota of helping out damsels in distress for the day and find someone else to fulfill that requirement."

His expression shuttered at your harsh tone. The deadpan way you parroted the words like you were reading them off a script while your fingers worked furiously in an attempt to charm the zip unstuck. It was silent for a minute and you almost thought he'd left, only you hadn't heard any footsteps.

He was still there when you glanced up again, chewing on the end of one of the strings hanging perfectly from the talisman of truth hanging off the shoulder strap of the beat up messenger bag he wore slung over one broad shoulder.

"Are you always this mean?"

You shrugged.

"I'd say I understand why you have no friends, only that isn't true. You always have those two wolves hanging all over you. Your pack maybe? That would explain why they put up with you."

You sighed. "Do you always speak every thought you have out loud? It's rather annoying. I'm trying to focus."

Instead of leaving like you hoped, because why on earth would you ever be so lucky, he knelt beside you instead. Talisman forgotten completely as he ducked his head to get a better look at what you were doing. He nudged your hands aside and with a few deft movements of his own he had your stubborn zipper sliding back into place in no time.

"You didn't have to make that look so easy."

He wiggled long fingers in a way that sparked something familiar in your brain. You knew those gestures. Or, you should know them, anyway. You recognized a sigil of smoothing and a charm of repair. You sighed. Why did he have to be good at all the subjects you shared?

"Thanks."

You didn't spare the man another glance as you stood, swinging your newly functional again bag over one shoulder. He sprang back up to his full height with a grace you usually only saw in shifters and you remembered he was also an athlete. Of course there wasn't anything the golden boy of year 9 couldn't do.

You suppressed another roll of your eyes, just barely, and glanced over at your desk to make sure you'd gotten everything. It wouldn't do to leave any of your things behind, not here. It would be easy for any of your classmates to read too many secrets into any notes or objects they found lingering around. You couldn't have that.

You turned to leave, narrowly avoiding bumping right into Yunho's sweater clad chest. You put a hand out to stop yourself colliding with him, hand landing right on the soft cheery yellow fabric, and quickly pulled away at the little electric zap that followed. He frowned at you. You didn't stop to explain, just pushing past and angling your hip so no more of your body brushed against his as you hurried out of the room.

"I'm Yunho by the way. If you even care to know."

You threw the steely haired man a look that you hoped conveyed your disdain. Something you weren't entirely sure you were feeling but he didn't have to know that. The faux flame lighting crackling overhead along the lecture hall ceiling gave the silver of his hair a blue tone you found oddly appealing. You blinked those thoughts away and shook your head to clear it.

"I know who you are Jeong."

"Good, then can I call you by your first name next time we meet like this?"

"There won't be a next time."

You'd have to make sure of it. You couldn't afford friends. None besides the two you couldn't shake anyway. You really couldn't afford any distractions. Yunho was a very very big distraction in the making. You didn't give him time to get any more words in. This was the first, and last, conversation with Jeong Yunho you'd ever have.

Or so you told yourself.

#ateez #ateez drabbles #jeong yunho #yunho #yunho x reader #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #fic snippet #magic au #witch au #snippet #ateez fic #fic ideas #fic drabble

44 notes · View notes

multiwreckedmess · 1 year ago

Text

Kinktober Day 9

Prompt: Stuck in Wall Pairing: CampusCrush!Wooyoung x fem!reader WC: 1.8k Summary: Instructions unclear, stuck in the new IKEA Bestå. This is a work of fiction, it does not represent Wooyoung or any Ateez member. On top of this it is an 18+ work. For my comfort and boundaries please if you are under age do not interact with this. TW/CW Under the Cut!

TW/CW: just so fucking stupid. little bit of ass fixation, slight dry humping, protected sex, really fucking stupid

“I cannot believe I’m stuck in some cheesy porn script. Oh this sucks. Oh my god this sucks,” you yell. The assembly instructions for your new television console clearly stated that it was a two person job and yet, you were stubborn and went ahead. Now, almost two hours later, you’ve somehow pretzel’d your way through one of the cubbies with no way out. “Wooyoung help! Can you hear me, you moron, help! You’re going to go deaf if you keep listening to music that loud you little-SHIT,” a sharp slap to your ass interrupts your tirade. “WOOYOUNG!” His witch cackle gives him away. Presumably somewhere behind you, your leg kicks blindly back. “I dropped the screwdriver and now- it’s too heavy I’ll get squished if I knock it over,” you gesture at your predicament. He cackles again. The cold snap of a camera shutter echoing in your mind. “Did you just take a picture of my ass?” You practically scream. “Help me or the second I get out of this thing I’m going to end your entire short twink-y life you GREMLIN.” Sighing, Wooyoung places his phone on the kitchen counter. Appraising what exactly had you helpless in front of him. “You can just go back the way you came?” “No moron. If it was that easy I would've done it. Now can you please PLEASE pull me?”

One hand bracing the frame of the console, the other holding your waist Wooyoung pulls. You don’t budge an inch. He huffs, blowing a tendril of hair up and away from his face. You bounce on your tippy toes with frustration, the fat of your ass jiggling alluringly. You don’t even know you’re doing it as he’s chubbing up inside of his sweats. “Help me out on this would yah?” Wooyoung asks as he readjusts his arm placement. “I”m holding the shelf just focus on pulling back with me, three, two, one, GO!” Both of you tug down, your ass grinding into him, adjusting the height as you push back harder and harder. Still you stay trapped between plywood boards and what’s worse is you can feel him slowly hardening in his loungewear and you don’t hate it.

You’d had a soft spot for Wooyoung, how could anyone not. Handsome with the right amount of self awareness and unique strange charm. In part you wanted to surprise him with the fully built furniture as a way of impressing him, showing him how sufficient you were, as if singlehandedly setting up the entire apartment would win his heart. Dumb, but crushes make you do dumb things. “At least your ass looks great like this,” Wooyoung laughs, taking a handful of flesh in his grasp. “God, I never understood how people could be into those cheesy porn plots but… damn. Really is all out there, vulnerable and whatever.” You stamp your feet, “Wooyoung it isn’t funny.” It wasn’t how you wanted to catch his attention but if it was working who were you to stop it. “What am I gonna do?” Having had a fondle with one hand his other joins, grabbing the opposite cheek, massaging in large slow circles. “Maybe if you relax a bit,” he trails off. “Take advantage of the situation, meditate…or something.” As if hypnotized by his own languid touches, his hips drift forward to meet your butt. He rests there just leaning into you as blood rushes from his brain to his dick.

You aren’t doing much better, practically melting in your pants from even this slightest of touches. It was ill advised to move in with him, but you thought that living together would kill the small flame you’d been carrying. Instead the spark had become a full kitchen fire and now it was spreading to the living room. Your head swimming with his suggestion to “take advantage” of your current predicament. “I’m not very good at meditating, could you help me relax?” “You know, it’s really convenient that I’m home right now. Right when you’re building this. If I’d gone out you’d really be out of luck.” Wooyoung’s teeth catch his lower lip, fighting back a moan as you adjust yourself, ass rubbing against him in the process. “Here’s the problem. I also need help with something,” he pauses, leaning forward and pressing his bulge into you harder. “I think you know what with.” “Mhm,” you nearly whine, lips pressed together hard, making a thin line across your strained face. “It’s sort of your fault, if you think about it. So you should be the one to help me. Take responsibility and all.” He fully settles his clothed bulge between your cheeks, dragging them along his length. “Yes, really, god yes. It’s totally my fault,” you capitulate easily, voice tightening as need sinks heavily into your core. “However you want me to take it, I will. Responsibility I mean. Take responsibility. I can take it in whatever way.”

Wooyoung is ready, just waiting for your word before he drops his waistband to his thighs, a small damp spot already formed in his underwear. Running the length of his shaft along the smooth spandex of your tights gives him goosebumps, a tremor of elation passing through his spine. Tentatively he presses the head into the stretched fabric, watching it dimple and pucker under his microthrusts. “You can take it however I want you to?” His cheshire smile spread wide across his face, tinting his tone. “Even if it’s just this?” “Mhm,” you desperately want more than just this. Fingers gripping the slats of wood as he jostles you. A short sad wheeze escapes through your nostrils. Despite your best efforts to tamp down your desire your body betrays you. Wooyoung laughs again, a short outburst, hand coming down hard on your ass before wrapping you in a hug, as best he can. “You sound so distressed! How will you relax if this is all I give you?” Hand snaking south he presses on your mound, the wet squelch of soaked underwear against his fingers sends another shiver down his spine. “You really want me, don’t you?” “Fuck Woo, yeah I do.”

The response of your pussy to the telltale crinkle of foil is almost pavlovian, walls fluttering in anticipation of fullness. Feeling the warmth of Wooyoung’s palm on your lower back you can picture the packet between his lips, tearing it open with one hand, not wanting to be too far from you. The console rocks as he roughly pulls your leggings just under your ass, just enough to give him access to what matters. Strings of your wetness cling and shine as his fingers slide along your slit. “I was going to prep you but-” he wiggles two fingers in, your walls sucking him deeper. It’s enough to interrupt his train of thought, his persistent teasing. All he can think about is the comfort of your sex. How inviting it is, how ready you are, how much you must want it. “-fuck that’s hot.” “Please Woo, please, hurry.” You beg. You don’t need to as he quickly replaces his fingers with his cock. Grabbing the frame of the furniture he pulls you back onto him in one smooth thrust. The fullness twists in your gut, knocking the breath from your lungs. “OH! Shit, you feel-why are you so big?” You sound almost offended as you moan, adjusting to the pressure. “You don’t know that,” he kneads your lower back, rocking closer. “God I wish I could grab your tits. They’ve always looked so fucking delicious. Just sitting there, taunting me.” “Grab them later fuck me now.” You groan, swirling your hips on him. The wood of the console keeps you from doing much more than rocking and twerking on him. “Show me how much you want it.” He demands. “I know you can do it. You set all this up. Show me how much you need me to fuck you.” Whining you arch your back, wiggling your hips side to side. It barely shifts him within you. He still doesn’t move to fuck you. Bouncing on the balls of your feet, you try humping back on him as best you can. Jaw slackening a dry hiccuped sob escapes you. “I’m stuck, you have to. You have to!”

With a smirk he grabs your waist, tugging back on you to hold you in place. Leaning back and away he rolls his hips, the ridges of your walls dragging along his length. Driven by crazed lust, it isn’t enough to feel how you grip him, he needs to see it. Wooyoung holds the hem of his shirt between his teeth, watching how his abs flex as his bodyline rolls again, your lips tugging with the slow thrust of his cock. “Woo,” you moan as he slowly fucks you. It’s nice to moan his name aloud for once instead of just in your head. “God damn it Woo. Ssooo good.” “Hmph,” his response is muted by the cotton shirt. Speeding up little by little. Your eyes glaze over, mind hazy. Getting fucked by your crush in the living room you shared. Nothing matters except for the insistent drag of his cock against your walls. His hips feel like magic, melting your tension with each stroke. Your leg shakes as your orgasm builds, the entire structure swaying. Wooyoung’s hands migrate from you to the wood, gripping it and using it as leverage to pound into you harder than before. The ripple of your ass with each percussive slap of his hips has him hypnotized. Lost to the friction of your walls, he thrusts deliriously with abandon, uncaring of the precious nature of the situation. Chasing the delight of your punched out moans and groans. Core contracting, air is forced from your lungs. The wave of pleasure crashes over you, every muscle bracing as it hits hard. At the same time the console creaks, your top half jolting free. A choked yelp escapes you, unable to warn Wooyoung. The structure crashes forward, fear clamping your walls tightly down on him. “Shit!” He yelps, eyes wide he spills into the condom unceremoniously. “Fuck!” He continues a steady stream of swear words as he pulls from you, stumbling backwards as you crumple to your knees, panting. “Can’t believe that worked-” “I came,” Wooyoung sounds dejected, red and panting. “FUCK! I came so quick.” Your eyes dart under the sofa, a glimmer of the a loose screw hiding underneath. Looking from Wooyoung to the screw you scoot and reach your arm towards the glimmer, instead grabbing the crossbar of the couch. “Uh…I hate to say it Woo but-” His eyes twinkle, “you’re stuck? What a dummy, getting stuck twice. I’m going to start thinking you’re doing this on purpose.”

I just love giving Wooyoung the most ridiculous of prompts. He’s fun to write for me.

#wooyoung smut #jung wooyoung smut #ateez wooyoung smut #ateez smut #atz smut #ateez kinktober #atz kinktober #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kpop kinktober #kpop smut

235 notes · View notes