The cold wind of Konoha blew gently across the fields surrounding the newly formed village, carrying with it the fresh scent of trees and damp earth. The moon hung high in the sky, illuminating the silent streets. Inside a modest house, between scrolls and flickering candles, a burning tension spread like fire consuming dry wood.

You felt your heart race as the intense gazes of Madara and Hashirama weighed upon you. The young writer had never imagined your life would take such a turn, but there you were, caught between two of the most powerful men to ever exist. They, who were opposites in almost everything, had one thing in common—their overwhelming desire for you.

Madara had always been darkness—intense, dangerous, dominant. His eyes glowed red under the candlelight, like embers ready to consume you. Hashirama, on the other hand, was the storm—strong, warm, possessive in a way that made your body tremble. You knew of their rivalry, but you never imagined you would one day be at the center of such an... intimate dispute.

"You knew this would happen, didn’t you?" Madara’s voice was a low, seductive purr. He was leaning against the table, arms crossed, as if daring the night to deny him what he wanted.

"-chan..." Hashirama stepped behind you, his presence warm and firm. His hands slid gently over your shoulders, his lips hovering dangerously close to your ear. "You don’t have to choose."

Your body tensed. Your face flushed violently as realization struck you.

"What do you mean... not choose?"

Madara smiled, a dangerous, predatory smile. He stepped forward, leaning in until his lips were mere millimeters from yours.

"You want us, don’t you? Then accept it. Be ours."

The proposition was insane, sinful... and desperately tempting.

Your heart pounded like a drum, your legs wavered, and it was Hashirama who held you firmly against his chest. His touch was different from Madara’s—not any less intense, but filled with something you couldn’t quite name.

"Let us show you how much we can make you happy..." Hashirama murmured, his lips brushing against the warm skin of your neck.

Desire spread through you like a sweet poison, your senses dulled by the heat of the two dominant presences surrounding you.

You wouldn’t have to choose.

You could have them both.