“Sugar daddy” Madara x Nurse!Reader
For my biggest fan @margretesonigiri. I hope you like this chapter! Happy Birthday Izuna, Obito! 🥳🤗 On AO3
Warnings: Romance, flirting, angst, drama, hurt/comfort Words: 4515
Examining yourself in the mirror from every angle, even you had to admit you looked impeccable.
You decided to go pro with your hair and makeup tonight. You wanted to look good for this party. You wanted to look amazing for Madara. A subtle glimmer veiled the eyeshadow, accentuating the shape of your eyes framed by long lashes. Slight contouring brought out the definition on your features, a peachy blush you suspected you won’t need once you saw Madara kissing the apples of your cheeks. Most of your hair was pinned back in an elaborate display of curls and ribbon, with wisps of loosely curled strands coming down the sides of your head ending past the shoulders. It wasn’t like you didn’t recognize yourself, but it was rather unusual for you to spend such time and effort on your appearances. The end result was worth it for this event.
Madara arrived to pick you up tonight at your door, a black SUV with his chauffeur attending downstairs.
Madara regarded you in appreciation. You looked better than good. You were hot, touched by a hint of innocence. The curled strands falling down to frame the sides of your face made you look as if you’d just gotten out of bed, but it was sexy and tasteful. It wasn’t too coiffed and artificial. He couldn’t get enough of the sight of you.
“It seems I haven’t invited you to enough of these events. You look stunning Y/N,” Madara rasped, continuing to appraise everything about you and continuing to discover more to behold. Your gorgeous face, the hair, your dress, the nails. You wore the ruby and gold necklace he gifted you. He meticulously eyed the designs on your legs. Like the first date, he picked up your hand to kiss the back. This time, you didn’t go brain dead. You stepped close, brushing your fingers down his chest and claiming his lips briefly. Madara’s presence went to your crotch. She stirred, as if waking from slumber for the first time in too long. It may have been freezing outside, but neither of you were going to feel it.
“As do you.” He donned a tuxedo for tonight. It had to be tailored for him, the cut hugging his hips and chest, the image of perfection. He was the picture of a sophisticated gentleman, one who exuded a mysterious charm and held an edge of danger. Such resemblance to the knives and swords he created. He was extraordinarily handsome and you couldn’t believe he was your date for the night.
You smiled shyly, allowing him the pleasure of leading you to his vehicle while he gallantly offered his arm.
The privacy display was activated, shielding the driver from whatever the occupants behind did. Madara popped open a bottle of champagne and offered a bubbly chute. “For you.”
You accepted the glass, thanking him for inviting you tonight. “It’s my honour to have you with me,” he replied smoothly. The seats were soft, a burgundy leather. Patterned wood trim framed multiple surfaces in the passengers’ area. Jazz filled this space, the brass instruments setting up a classy ambient atmosphere for the ride.
Gasping, your eyes were trained frantically in the direction of the driver as Madara slid up to you, not touching, but close enough to feel his breath and body heat. He closed the distance between you, a hand sneaking under your knee-length coat and coming to rest on your thigh.
“He can’t hear or see us.” When you didn’t resist, fingers skimmed the surface of your sheer floral-patterned pantyhose, coming inches up your legs until he halted at a location that was still safe enough to be considered somewhat decent. His face was close, discerning gaze carefully watching your expression, as if he was waiting for permission.
Frozen, your mind flew through what was happening. This was Madara who was touching you. You opened your legs a fraction, but that was all he needed. His hand traveled more as he tilted his head before he once again took your lips. Madara was patient and gentle, his touch remaining light. He didn’t grab your crotch like he yearned to. Instead, he stayed tantalizingly at the junction between groin and inner thigh to pet the spot, while his other arm went around your back to pull you slightly towards him.
You didn’t stop him from doing more. From the onset, you were never against a physical relationship with Madara, although your preference was to become more familiar before engaging in such acts. You didn’t realize you were clutching his quads.
“I told you I will wait for you,” he whispered against your temple, pulling his limbs back to himself.
You licked your lips, cursing when you realized you ate some of the lip gloss.
---------------
Stepping foot inside the venue, you looked around in wonder as you entered with Madara. The opulence was astounding. The foyer was incredibly grand, covered in gold-veined marble floors, intricately carved stone statues artistically lining the walls, the ceilings were so high you could barely make out the details at the top. It was like you went back in time to a historical ball. The men were dapper, the women garbed in sumptuous ball gowns and jewels.
You could swear it got quieter as you and Madara arrived. What an attractive pair you made. People were staring. Though Madara was clearly the one who brought you, the one who was personally invited to a gathering of this class, you were the one who attracted these strangers’ attention. Numerous men, some elegant, some appearing haughtier than others, evaluated your appearance and presence, seemingly pleased by what met the eyes. Several greeted Madara and you in polite acquaintance.
It was the women who made you self-conscious. Some studied you in a peculiar way, their shrewd judgment making you squirm in discomfort. You couldn’t discern what they said to each other or their partners, but that didn’t matter.
"Keep your chin up. These people are no better than you." Madara commented flatly, leading you through the palatial grounds. You and Madara exchanged more cordial greetings with multiple other guests before you were led to your seats. A busser nodded at you and Madara in respect, “My lady, what would you like to drink?” You requested scotch. You knew you needed social lubricant again to survive this night. You plucked some hor d’oeuvres from servers circulating around the hall with trays of appetizers.
Madara chuckled, “Already starting with the strong liquor? There’s a long night ahead.”
“Madara! Let me be! I’ve never been to this formal an event before! This is white tie!” You were so worried you’d make a fool of yourself, which would reflect poorly on Madara. Good thing you consulted the professionals with your makeup and hair for tonight.
“Y/N, remember you are with me. Do not accept disrespect from anyone.”
Appreciating his sentiment, you nodded at him, but didn’t feel settled. You nibbled on your hor d’oeuvres and sipped the single malt scotch, reveling in every bite. Wow, the refreshments were tasty.
Madara continued to make light-hearted chatter with you, as if this were merely another casual date, in an attempt to soothe your nerves. He was somewhat successful.
He stood gracefully and held his hand out to you. “Y/N, dance with me.” Oh my, you took a few lessons in ballroom when you were a teenager, but that knowledge was long gone. Neither did you expect your first rodeo in years to be at such a high caliber. Not wanting to disappoint, you accepted Madara’s offer, but warned you weren’t very skilled.
He was so warm, his gaze affectionate as he walked with you to the dance floor where other couples already took their spots. Goodness, there were more spectators now. “Follow me. I will lead you.”
You were stepping to the rhythm slow-quick-quick, slow-quick-quick…this was a rumba. Under normal circumstances, you’d be bopping along to the sensual lyrics, but right now you could only focus on the drums which were keeping the beat, praying you didn’t misstep. You couldn’t help looking down at your feet to ensure their placement.
Madara was an excellent dancer. It was hard for others to differentiate from a distance, but so close, you saw the edges of his lips were pointed up in a tiny smile directed solely at you. Each step brushed the floor before he set his foot down, pushing your dress aside. He knew exactly where you were and never stepped on your feet or dress. He never looked down, the entirety of his attention focused on you. He signaled to pull you in, push you out. He twirled you. You and him were rhythm. Moving in tune to the beat with Madara’s body was intoxicating, but after one final spin, it all ended too soon. The song was over. There was clapping, even if it was drowned out by the ethereal feeling of you and Madara being the lone occupants on the floor.
The lights struck his figure in such a way. It accentuated the blue undertones of his hair, highlighted the refined arches of his cheekbones. It casted shadow upon his musculature, emphasizing his solid build through the layers of tuxedo. He was excruciatingly beautiful.
In the few moments when you were still in his arms, staring at each other after your first dance, he cupped your face and kissed you deeply in front of everyone. Your eyes were saucers. Madara never claimed you like that in public. Many guests paused to observe the spectacle.
He brought you back to your table and seated you. Bringing his hand to gently stroke the side of your head without tousling your locks, he murmured into your ear, telling you he had to attend to a quick business matter, but he will return to you soon.
He was leaving you alone! You fretted internally, anxiety once again hitting you like bricks, even if you agreed to Madara’s arrangement.
Quietly cutting a piece of the entrée that was served moments ago and gingerly placing it in your mouth, you glanced around the table. Every seat was now filled with men and women as dressed up as the ones you saw when you first entered the building. You nodded in greeting. Two different couples returned the pleasantry and you introduced yourself.
“Y/N? Such a beautiful name. How do you know Mr. Uchiha?” The lady of a kindly-looking couple asked you.
Mr. Uchiha? Sounded silly to you. You avoided the question, not about to disclose the website that brought you back into each other’s lives. “We met at the hospital when Izuna was sick.”
“Do you work at the hospital? Which one? Are you a doctor?” A different woman spoke up, this one immediately setting off a feeling of dislike in you. Her calculating gaze rolled over you in evaluation. It was mocking, the disdain close to the surface. “Please excuse me for my prodding inquiries, we’ve never seen Madara invite anyone other than Izuna to an event before!”
She called him ‘Madara,’ much more informal than the first woman. She must be closer to him or higher in hierarchy than the other guest. “I’m a nurse.”
Yet another pair chimed in. “Nursing is tough these days. It must be extremely difficult for you and your colleagues. Thank you what you do.” There were mutters of agreement from other guests.
You accepted their sentiment with grace.
“A nurse? Such a noble and devoted profession. So giving of yourselves, you even opted to follow your patrons all this way well after your services were no longer deemed necessary. Madara inspires such obsession, doesn’t he?” That beautiful woman you were already wary of offered you a sweet smile.
Pardon me?
You knew this woman was trying to humiliate you for your serving profession, but you weren’t biting. You were proud of and competent at what you did. And in your opinion, your job was vital to society and more important than a respectable number of people’s, including some of the ones seated at this table, even if they may be more finely dressed on a regular day.
She was also calling you a whore. Words were her weapon, carefully chosen to slice with precision like a scalpel. You tried to take the high road.
“Yes, I’ve made a difference in many people’s lives. Seems I can appreciate life more than most people can.” And you believed you did. You’ve seen the best and worst in people, seen as families clung to hope where there was none, and even then the families sometimes forced their will upon your colleagues. They may have screamed and thrown things and legally threatened. You’ve been forced to attempt every possible measure to ‘save’ those patients, because the family still believed their loved ones will pull through and walk out alive, no different from before they were first hospitalized. It was akin to torture, prolonging the suffering of these people for what could be months or more, as they wasted away, growing necrotic, their flesh sloughing off, dying multiple times as you were required to attempt resuscitation, breaking their ribs and continuing the horrible cyclical process over again. All that remained were the empty husks of bodies that still produced vital signs, until eventually even those shut down and the bodies could finally rest.
What you were forced to do was sometimes beyond inhumane.
You could appreciate the preciousness of life in a way many people will never understand. At the end of road, there was no difference whether you were a pauper or filthy rich. You couldn’t take any of that with you when you die. What did this woman know about life, or suffering? How could someone so ignorant even deign to comment on your service? Fury started to build in your mind.
Was life only the vapid pursuit of a hedonistic existence to a portion of these other guests here, whose festivities you’ve intruded upon? Where was Madara? You didn’t like it here. The mood grew tense at this table. You could probably hear a pin drop despite the background clamour of the party.
Deciding you had enough, you rose. “Excuse me,” you stated, before walking off to search for the restroom. You heard tittering as you left and internally scoffed at whoever made that sound, probably a Karen. Very mature. You came here to be with Madara, not to compete in petty rich people duels. You would much rather stumble around in a rumba with Madara than participate in this other type of social dance.
“Karen.” Another guest spoke in warning, but you’d already left.
---------------
Coming out of the single stall, you flattened your dress against yourself. There she was again, the wolf in sheepskin. She was finishing her touchups. Seriously, she followed you here? You groaned to yourself, not wanting to deal with her right now. Or at all.
She pretended your presence piqued her surprise. Snapping the mini compact shut, she stared you directly in the eyes.
“It was a fabulous performance you gave earlier! First time dancing?” She asked with a pleasant tone, yet her expression betrayed her snideness.
“Indeed. First time in a long while.” You replied tightly.
“I’m astonished! I never thought a newborn elephant could dance, it was absolutely enchanting. I’m sure many patrons haven’t been so entertained in some time.” She washed her hands, flicking excess water off, some hitting you, before drying her hands properly on a plush square towel. “Your dress! Excuse me!”
Anger coursed through your veins. She was getting bolder with your meek retorts, not even trying to veil her insults anymore. If you had a single useful thought in your hollow, elitist brain, every day you would learn many new things. How does Madara bear these people?
She insincerely apologized for splashing your gown. “Y/N, I am doing you a favour by approaching you about this. Someone like Madara will grow bored of you once he tires of lowborn novelty. He doesn’t love you. You will only be hurt by attempting to reach too far up.”
Attempting to reach too far up. Gritting your teeth, you replied, "Your bearing should make you much nobler than me, but it’s unfortunate money can't buy class." You gave her a wholly unimpressed stare. You weren’t interested in her pontification. “My relationship with Madara doesn’t concern you.” It was complicated and only between you and him, even if you’ve also been ruminating on the nature of your relationship lately. Finished your business in the restroom, you exited the premises to find your way back to your seat.
She sneered at you, condescension rolling off every fiber of her being. As if speaking with you was beneath her dignity, she snapped. "A commoner should learn etiquette before sullying spaces above her station."
You tried to think quickly, understanding Madara is higher in the social food chain than anyone here. You will likely be forgiven for saying something impolite, yet you wanted to return a witty remark, one that won’t be too crass or embarrass Madara. Your rage won out instead. How dare she. You were tired of trying to wrack your head for false niceties in comebacks.
With your heart pounding, your voice was filled with vitriol. “Are you a bitch just today or every day?”
She smirked derisively, as if she won the battle by making you break face and curse first. Her patronizing smirk transformed into a look of utter aghast in an instant.
Madara regarded her coldly and she slunk down in deference, but not surrendering entirely. “If a commoner must learn etiquette before showing their face, tell me, are you a commoner?”
She parted her mouth to speak.
“Do you think me tasteless, woman?”
“I would never dare, Madara!”
“You may not address me by my name. You assume to be more familiar than you are. I asked if you are a commoner.”
Madara acknowledged you by glancing down, before his icy furious gaze found its original target again. She hadn’t strung together another eloquent sentence since Madara’s arrival, her previous conceit gone.
“Hn. I suppose a lowborn wretch wouldn’t have the capacity to recognize your betters unless it was spelled out for you. By ‘your betters’ I mean Y/N, who has demonstrated grace and etiquette despite your continued baseless denigration. There is only one commoner here and it isn’t who you thought.”
Guests at the surrounding tables went silent at the exchange, nosy yet uncomfortable with such obvious conflict at a major gathering. The woman gawked, not yet having recovered her meager wits.
Madara maintained his glower at her. “She is with me. That was all you needed to know.” He took your hand and led you away. Madara had no issue with finishing his dinner in an awkward silence at their table. Let them say what they will about him. But you didn’t deserve this kind of poor treatment.
“Do you want to stay here or leave?” He asked you.
Grimacing, you confessed. "I don't like this place. It’s too stiff and the people are like cats."
---------------
Madara summoned his driver and you left together.
The adrenaline rush over, you suddenly felt very small around Madara, the subject of your affections who you were brutally informed was someone that shouldn’t be yours. “I’m sorry if my conversation with that woman was inappropriate at any point and if it reflects badly on you. I said some foul things too.”
You’ve never seen Madara verbally vicious, although you were certain he had it in him. You were aware he was harsher with strangers than you and Izuna. Seeing his wrath was still an experience.
“Don’t apologize for rightfully defending yourself. I shouldn’t have left you by yourself for as long as I did.” You shook your head to inform him he was not at fault. Madara was beyond rage that anyone dared insult or belittle you. That someone found an opportunity to lash you with such venomous words when he wasn’t present to defend you. “I’m sorry you went through that. Are you okay?”
Not looking at him, you asked, “Who was that?” You curled against your protector.
Madara snorted. “No one of importance. She was someone who wanted to arrange an engagement with either me or Izuna long ago, but we never gave her the time of day. Seems she forgot about everything except her unwarranted bloated opinion of herself.”
The woman was way out of line. No one else at the party treated you with such contempt, even if they viewed themselves superior. You understood this, but you weren’t used to conflict. Heart still pounding hard in your chest, you were severely shaken by the confrontation now that it was over, especially when some of that woman’s appalling sentiments were in truth thoughts you also considered.
---------------
You could tell Madara was still livid when you entered his penthouse together and he tossed his keys on the counter. He was already pulling off his tuxedo and loosening the bowtie as he tousled his hair and exhaled forcefully. You stayed close to the grand entrance momentarily before following him inside. You were quiet, slow, and methodical when you removed your winter coat and placed it on a leather chair.
Madara was suddenly in front of you, tucking you into his arms, his lips seeking yours in a kiss harder than he had ever given you. Gasping, you pulled from him and looked away, feeling heavily conflicted.
“Y/N?”
You took several steps back, praying the distance will help clear your mind. It was futile.
Trembling, your voice broke. "She wasn’t completely wrong…I don't belong with you. We're from completely different worlds. You should be with someone better than me. Someone beautiful, elegant, from a higher family more suited to your station."
Madara's face was blank. "Yet I am with you, no?"
You couldn’t find solace in his words. "I’m just a normal person, Madara. And I don't want you to buy me things, I was never cut out to be a sugar baby, it seems. Yet I stick out like a sore thumb even more among your wealthy crowd without those luxury items. I can’t do this anymore."
Tears trailed down your face and you sniffed helplessly, swiping your hands across your eyes repeatedly to remove the salty fluid, loathing your weakness in front of him yet again.
Madara straightened, stiff as a board. His voice was cooler. He didn’t pursue when you stepped away from him. "It was my assumption that was the way those sorts of relationships worked."
He agrees we are on different levels. Your eyes watered more at the confirmation on the nature of your relationship. His money and prestige for your time and sex. You didn’t even put out for him.
Yet…you wanted to be with him, even if it would only be a coupling of bodies and you wouldn’t claim all of him. It hurt immensely, but you couldn't get enough of this man, like you were a moth drawn to flame. From the beginning, it felt like there was something deep, like you were meant to be with Madara. But the more you reflected on your relationship, the more it was apparent it didn’t matter whether Madara was actually fond of you or if he regarded you as paid-for company. The extreme difference in social status wasn’t so easily overcome. Steeling your resolve, you looked him in the eyes, hands quivering as they went to your back to undo the zipper, opening your dress to start slipping it off.
Madara watched you in bewildered rapture at first, his gaze tracing every movement revealing increasing tracts of bare skin. Your delicate lace bra came into view once your top was exposed. He wanted you so much it was painful. But…he also wanted you to want this. He wished for you to enjoy being with him so much you'd keep choosing to return to him whenever you desired intimacy. He hated this nervous look of coercion painted on your features. Hated your tears. This was wrong.
He stopped you part way, grasping your hands in his, then sliding your loose clothing back over your shoulders. "No, not like this. Never like this." His grip was hard.
Something in Madara cracked, his piercing gaze pinning you. “This misplaced sense of inferiority in you is unbecoming. Did you think I let merely anyone into my home? Into my life?” He stalked towards you as you slinked away, until he had you cornered against the walls. “Or that I would turn over one of my properties to someone insignificant to me?”
He had to stop. This was no way to speak to someone he held dear.
Madara closed his eyes, jaws clenched, his frustration flaring. Irritation he didn’t realize he could feel towards you coiled in his chest. He allowed several moments to pass, to collect himself before he could verbalize truly malignant words. After all this time, how could you not know? What was this unsightly self-pity? His mouth pulled into a tight line, gathering his thoughts as he calmed himself. He wouldn’t be cruel, not to you.
"You still don't seem to understand. The intention was never to purchase your company or body. It was always to court you, to persuade you towards becoming mine."
“Meddling fools may be incapable of seeing your radiance and don’t deserve your company. That isn’t our concern. I’d rather you don’t fit in with trifling superficial crowds. What we have was never ‘those sorts of relationships’ you’re assuming.” He glared at you.
You were still gaping with an astonished expression, trapped between a wall and his sturdy body. You were shaking, close to hyperventilating. Madara took in your anguished state. This was agony for him too. He sat you on the floor, pulling you between his legs and into his body. Your heaving breaths eventually slowed and tears dried as you leaned against him, feeling uncertain in his embrace, but not yet wanting to leave. He wants me for me, the obvious conclusion settling in. You huddled up with your head nestled into his neck and he breathed you in.
It was late when you spoke again. “Madara? I’d like to go home tonight.”
“This is one of your homes. This place is yours now in every way except in title.” Madara felt uneasy now that the storm that was his temper passed, hoping he didn’t say too much. He held you more tightly.
“No, I’d like to go back to my home tonight. I can’t be here right now. Please. I need to be alone.” You pleaded, hoping he’d understand. “I’ll pack my things and call for a ride.”
He snorted, the notion you wanted to pack your belongings to abandon your home absurd to him. “Don’t be ridiculous. I will take you home if you insist. It’s the middle of the night in freezing weather.” He was not letting you go that easily. You were his.
~To be continued~
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Notes:
A gentle reminder that while Madara is softer with Izuna and her, he isn’t soft. Drama finds the drama king, who still wields a way with words like a kunai.
I know we shouldn't write for the stats, but I caught a cool moment when AO3 didn't update the numbers yet between the Author's Statistics and Works pages
This fic is like my baby and I'm SO proud of it !!! The 666 was gone shortly after.
I have a personal fluffy hc for Alucard in which he uses his shadows to display human feelings. He'd unknowingly wrap his beloved in his shadows of he's either laying beside them or on their lap while their playing with his hair or humming him a tune or talking and he can't help those warm giddy feelings that his mate brings out of him and the next thing they know his beloved has inky shadows crawling around them with a couple of eyes staring at them meanwhile he's purring away in delight 😊
The issue I'd have with a telepathic vampire lover like Alucard is worrying about him seeing all the random thoughts that flit by everyday. The silly, the horny, the ugly, stuff a normal person should already know but I don't. He's gonna find out right away what an idiot I really am
Warnings: romance, drama, conflict resolution, lots of dialogue
For readers who don’t do smut/are underage, the long sex scene can be skipped and the ending will make sense. Words: 4569
It was well over a month before you saw each other again. At first, Madara assumed both you and him needed time to decompress after the last encounter. Madara knew your shift schedule, which you previously provided to facilitate the planning of outings. You also mentioned another wave of school hitting. After weeks of radio silence from you, he figured you likely were very busy lately, but if your lack of contact was your playing of games with him, he wasn't engaging.
So he left for the conference in Japan for several weeks. The trip went well, all things considered.
His mood was foul for much of these last weeks, even while conducting business. The idiot Hashirama thought it was appropriate to venture a joking guess, asking if his ‘gloomy face’ was perhaps the result of the plague of romantic woes. The other brother, shrewd and opinionated, thankfully stayed quiet. Madara swore he would have stabbed Tobirama in the head if he was forced to endure prodding from another nosy Senju.
This was until Izuna decided he could comment on Madara’s life as well when they returned from Japan. Madara snapped back, rudely informing his little brother there was no issue, that his personal affairs were none of Izuna’s concern. The boorish boy dared to jeer at him, emphatically remarking that he should “just go see you again,” as if he made no attempts to contact you before the conference.
Staring daggers at nothing, he thought back on how you tried to return his keys that doomed night when he brought you home from your penthouse. As if he, Uchiha Madara, would take back an item he had gifted another. Your tears had finally ceased and you were disturbingly calm. When he wouldn’t accept repossessing the keys and attempted to reason with you again, your expression broke. You told him “money doesn’t solve everything.” Falling apart once more, you bid him goodbye while stuttering and left those keys on the passenger seat before easing the door shut behind you.
Stubborn woman. Similar to Izuna, there were times when you were childish in temperament. He already showed you who you were to him, yet you didn’t understand and left. Between you and him, someone had to be the adult.
Madara strode across his office, feeling thunderous as he recalled the memories he made with you. It seemed his thoughts were completely occupied by you lately. He thought back on your fingers tangled in his that treasured day when you searched together for Izuna’s gift, how you beamed at him in delight at your house, and your shocked expression during your first kiss with him. He remembered your juvenile jokes, the first time you approached him for a kiss and how you came to relax into his touch.
He relived your tears and self-deprecating words, how you shrank from him when he confronted you, and the way you offered yourself to him, as if that must have been all he wanted from you, before you walked out. Madara glowered bitterly as his mood darkened even further.
Despite everything that happened, time was the master of the heart. Even if he was surly during the initial days following that party and while abroad, after so long, Madara…missed you. He did not want to be apart any longer. Wishing for reconciliation and to bridge the distance that grew between you, he texted, asking if now was a good time to call. To his surprise, you agreed to speak with him.
---------------
You let the remaining seconds on the timer run out before absentmindedly fishing the udon from the broth. Ladling toppings into a bowl and spooning soup in, you poured piping hot liquid onto your other hand. You yelped in agony, hands flying up in shock and accidentally dumping more scalding soup over yourself and the stove.
You ground your teeth together and shouted in frustration. Mentally pushed beyond the limits, you whipped the damned ladle away, sending it crashing into a vase and knocking it over, fine crystal shattering in a flood of water and shards. Your fresh roses spilled onto the dining table. Roses for romance, now laying in a pool of broken glass. You snorted, the symbolism not lost on you.
Everything was a mess. Your home, your mind, your life. You were incredibly despondent these past weeks despite being swamped, consumed with writing several essays for your program. It was stupid BS. Did you really need to be in a Master’s program in anything to know it’s beneficial to be respectful when talking to someone? Okay, you were exaggerating if you said that was all your program was about, but there was so much fluff in comparison to the amount of material that was useful towards your future role as a Clinical Nurse Specialist or Nurse Practitioner.
You were also pushed to distraction by thoughts of a certain man. It was nearly impossible to focus. You cursed your stupidity for ever getting involved with him.
Your phone pinged, the cheerful sound grossly at odds with your turbulent mood.
It was him. He inquired if it was a suitable time to call now, informing again of how much he wished to hear from you.
Ready to turn that page in the final chapter involving him, you had been prepared to never see Madara again, convinced nothing can come out of staying associated except the promise of more pain.
…Clearly you also missed Madara dearly over the past weeks. It was as if the sun disappeared from your life and all that remained was a bleak landscape of dreariness, devoid of warmth and vibrancy. Longing compelled you to speak with him, to hear his lovely voice again.
Your ringtone sounded immediately.
“Hello? Madara?”
“Y/N?” You jolted at his voice from a single word, the part of your heart that was numb throbbing in pain.
“…How have you been, Madara?”
“Hn. I’ve experienced better days in my life. Y/N, you sound exhausted.” Madara’s voice was flat like he was also lacking sleep, yet it sounded as if he was holding back. Like he had much he wanted to tell you.
“Yeah, I had a bad shift today.”
“I thought you didn’t work today.”
“It wasn’t originally on the schedule I gave you, but I picked up. I needed the extra shift.”
Madara was quiet for a moment. Were you financially stressed? He frowned on his end, then spoke up. “I would like to see you again.” He had no desire to throw your relationship away. It must be mended, somehow.
He wanted to barrel back into your life again?! Just when you regained some measure of functionality by throwing yourself into school and work, drowning yourself in your professional life to prevent your personal demons an opportunity to revisit your thoughts, you hear from Madara again. For several weeks, you hadn’t been ready to see him before he went to Japan. By now, you were almost certain he must have gone on his trip and moved on as well.
Besides, what was there to say? After the fiasco that first and last time Madara brought you to a major event, you weren’t even sure how to face him anymore.
“Not tonight Madara. It was a disaster at work and I’m not emotionally sound right now. I don’t want to have another meltdown in front of you,” you told him and laughed in an attempt to make light of the conversation.
Madara wanted to tell you he did not mind if you broke down, that he was there to support you in times of weakness. He held his tongue, figuring that what not what you needed to hear and pushing harder at this time would only serve to drive you away again.
“How about another day? One when you are free and well-rested,” he suggested.
Part of you wanted to refuse him, but after all the care and kindness Madara showed you, how could you do that to this man? If nothing else, you both at least deserved closure.
“One chance, Y/N. Give me one more chance,” he continued. “Please.”
You were weak. With a lump in your throat, you found you couldn’t refuse your love’s heartfelt request.
“Give me a few more days to rest and unwind, then we can meet here.”
You ate your dinner udon in silence amongst the chaotic pile of broken dreams, surrounded by shattered glass, forgotten rose stems, and spilled tears.
---------------
Madara arrived at your house at your invitation, pausing outside to mentally rehearse what he wanted to tell you. He was determined to resolve your differences and reenter each other’s lives.
You opened the door for him. His frustration with the situation was ever-present, but his previous vexation at your actions dissolved upon laying eyes on you for the first time in so long. There you were, dressed comfortably in your pajamas, tiny in comparison to his size. You looked slightly tired and your eyes were mildly swollen, but your gaze was focused on him.
Your mind went blank the moment you heard the knock. Greeting him softly, you blinked at the large plant in his hand. It was a pot of phalaenopsis, or a moth orchid, the most common type of commercial orchid available because it can be tricked into flowering year-round. It was nothing special or exotic compared to your collection, but the gift Madara bore was white. White orchids were a symbol of sincerity. Madara was normally meticulous, but you wondered if he knew that or if the colour was merely a fluke. Your breath hitched when you caught a glimpse at the bundle in his other arm.
It was a dramatic bouquet filled with tulips, lilies of the valley, peonies, and carnations… all flowers of apology. Tulips were perennials that flowered year after year and represented new beginnings and peace, but these tulips were also in red to emphasize it was safe for you to trust Madara. White peonies represented shame for how he acted and a desire to right wrongs, and carnations not in pink, but red, expressed an aching heart and unyielding affection. There was a cut stem of giant cymbidium orchids within the bundle. Cymbidiums could mean many nice things, one of those being pure love.
This was no fluke. You stared at the bouquet to ensure you weren’t seeing things or getting your floral trivia incorrect. Madara was indeed expressing his great regret and a sincere desire to mend wrongs in a nonverbal way which was more natural to him. You swayed when you raised your shocked eyes to meet his. His expression was simultaneously grave, yet hopeful.
You invited Madara inside and closed the door behind him.
He stood by the entrance, not doing anything to remove his dress shoes or jacket. Instead, he watched you, waiting solemnly for you to take his offerings.
It was already late March and spring was quickly approaching, the biting chill of winter not nearly as harsh as the last time you met. Will this be a mistake? New beginnings. With a shaky breath, you accepted the white potted orchid and bouquet from Madara. The plant enthusiast in you wordlessly filled a spare vase with water and arranged the gorgeous bouquet. Once properly organized, it puffed up in a pretty display of red and white –delicate, bell-like lilies surrounded large fluffy flowers, the arrangement dotted with elegant tulips and a strip of pinkish-orange cymbidiums down the middle. Your chest clenched when you contemplated the deep meaning behind its beauty. What Madara wanted to tell you.
Madara continued to stand near the door as he silently observed you tread around your home. “Why are you apologizing so excessively?” You asked, gesturing at the array of quality blooms. “You are not at fault for anything.”
Madara hesitated, aware the minutes ahead will bring him to a position that will make him too vulnerable for comfort. He frowned. Your disposition was too polite, too formal with him. You wouldn’t even look at him. Neither did you truly invite him inside and offer him refreshments like the model hostess you were the last time he came over. It was like you were expecting him to state what he needed and leave.
He resented your aloofness and his part in bringing about this change in your demeanor around him. When it came to his emotions and those softer feelings you evoked, speaking candidly was difficult for Madara. He did not relish exposing himself, but this was a conversation that needed to happen. And if it would help you understand just how much you meant to him…
Madara had thought of what to say over the last two days, but upon seeing you, it was like his preparations vanished into nothingness. Not wanting you to ask him to leave, he needed to find his words again quickly.
“That is not true. There are many assertions I delivered poorly. I should never have been harsh to you, even if the sentiment was honest and that part I will not retract.” It was so like Madara to be painfully blunt even when he was trying to express remorse, it was almost comedic.
“Which part was that?” You asked wearily. Your heart seized, not ready to bear Madara’s gut-wrenching judgment again, but also knowing you and him needed to speak, that avoidance was no longer an option. You glanced again at Madara’s bouquet.
“That your sense of inferiority was unbecoming. I should never have spoken to you in such a way. For that, and the other words when I drove you home, I apologize. I…didn’t want to cause you pain. However, I maintain that that feeling of yours is misplaced and unnecessary. I would not have pursued if I thought you inadequate. We are equals if we are to be together.” He fixed you with a level stare which you returned with uncertainty.
You mulled over his words, remembering your realization at the end of the last confrontation with Madara at his penthouse, before he pulled you into his arms and let you weep. Madara wanted you for you.
You allowed Madara inside, bringing him to be seated at the same couch where he first realized the depth of his feelings for you. You awkwardly pulled out a chair from the adjacent dining table, but didn’t venture closer.
“Don’t you see we are from completely different worlds? Worlds that were never meant to collide if it wasn’t for the stupid dating site. What future is there for us? We aren’t meant to be together.”
Clenching his fists, Madara’s face stayed serene. He sighed, running a hand through his mane.
“Initially, it was Izuna’s bright idea to join that website on my behalf, but I only agreed to such an obscene plan because I saw you. There was no other woman I desired seeing. It was a coincidence that our paths crossed again after so many years, so even if I found the concept of that site distasteful, if there was the possibility to properly court you, I would utilize such a platform.” Madara paused, noting his tension and consciously ordering his hands to open.
“I was on that blasted site to find you. Our relationship was never of the sort suggested by the dating site that brought us back together.” He gritted out. He stood and came over, hand reaching for your face, the need to touch you again driving him to insanity. To his relief, you allowed his touch and made no attempts to stop him.
“Whatever future you desire, we can create together. I want to be with you,” he continued.
Madara stalled briefly, then kneeled before you and took your hands in his, the determination in his eyes unwavering.
“I am not a man of pretty silver-tongued words. You should know that.” Your eyes started to water as you acknowledged Madara’s statement. “Months ago, you said you liked me. Does that still hold true?” He asked.
A relationship took effort from both ends. You remembered every sweet moment you created together and the way Madara always tried for you. You recalled his fierce defence of you from that other woman. And his terrible words in the car as he drove you home, but also how he endeavored to make contact again to work things out while you fled.
You blinked at him to try stopping the tears that threatened to fall, trembling in his hands. Knowing he appreciated honesty, you replied, “Of course. I never stopped.”
Madara let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His expression completely transformed and a brilliant smile lit up his face. Looking at your hands, he stroked your palms. “Y/N, I will tell you this once: you are exactly who I’ve been searching for all these years. And there is nothing in this lifetime that keeps us apart.” He lifted his gaze back to yours, his face now closer. “I promise I will always take care of you, if you'll let me. You will want for nothing,” he vowed.
“I…trust you…” you rasped, still trying to wrap your head around how someone like Madara would want to be with a regular person like you.
Madara’s entire being rocked with your confession. How he needed to hear those words. “I won’t let you down.”
“Why are you so good to me?”
There was no need for Madara to reply. The answer was in his eyes. You knew. You must have known some time ago that he loved you. You merely didn’t know how to respond to the intensity of his devotion.
“I’m sorry too. I’m sorry for ignoring you all this time even when you tried to make amends before going on your trip,” you whispered.
He leaned in with his head angled up to press his lips to yours.
“Move in with me, Y/N. I'm serious. I was serious from the beginning. Share your life with me."
You made a pained noise and reached for him, hands entwining behind his neck to bring him closer. Your foreheads touched. You too will try harder with Madara. For him, you’ll be better than you are. Instead of giving up now, you will give yourselves another chance to speak each other’s language and understand one another.
“I like bouquets, but next time, don’t buy me cut orchids. Cutting their flowers is a travesty knowing how long it takes to nurture and grow them.” You sniffed, but smiled against his lips.
“Your wish is my command.” He glanced at your collection of exotic plants and tried to entice you with your hobby. “If you enjoy greenery this much, you can plant whatever you like if you move into my main residence with me and Izuna. We can have a lawn full of cherry blossom trees and build a greenhouse, hire gardeners to assist you. Whatever you want.”
“Madara? That might be the most attractive thing you said to me all day.”
---------------
“Stay the night?” Now that Madara was here, you didn’t want him to leave, as if you were afraid you would have to wait another lifetime to see him again.
Madara agreed readily, raising a sophisticated brow when you suggested he take your bedroom while you slept on the sofa bed in the other bedroom. “Just trying to be a good hostess,” you explained, grinning bashfully.
“I would feel your hospitality more deeply if my hostess didn’t disappear,” he teased. You giggled, grabbing his hand and leading him to your room, as relieved as Madara that your relationship remained intact. That not everything was lost and you both fell back into your prior dynamic without the strain with relative ease.
He settled next to you and pulled the sheets up. At first, you lay side by side with some distance remaining between you. Screw it. You missed Madara and he missed you. That much was clear after tonight.
You shimmied up to him and he wrapped an arm around your waist. Bringing his lips to yours, he nipped and prodded, entering your mouth as soon as access was granted.
You were breathless when you separated. “I missed you. I miss this,” you murmured against his ear sleepily.
“Hn,” he grunted in agreement.
Already back to his silent ways. You smiled broadly in the dark.
“Um…are you sweating?”
“Go to sleep,” came the gruff answer.
There was no ignoring the growing damp cold. Realization dawned on you –Madara was always warm. He must be broiling under your linens. Your mouth fell open. “D-do you normally sleep naked? If you’re hot, you…can take off your clothes if you want.” Your wording sounded horrible! Cringing in dismay, you thought about what else you could do for him.
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“There’s no sense in having you suffer this way. You’ll make me a bad hostess.” He was much too conscientious. And in your mind, Madara was already adequately hot. No need to cause him to melt.
Fabric rustled and you felt a breeze touch your face as Madara discarded his clothing somewhere in your room before he returned to you.
His length pushed into your stomach. You knew Madara possessed an athletic muscular build, but being pressed against his bare body was an experience that made you heat up with desire and embarrassment. It wasn’t unpleasant at all.
The interesting, but welcome, turn of events leading to this moment tonight made Madara smile warmly and hold you closer.
Madara’s self-control was unworldly. You basked silently in each other’s presence, secure in the knowledge you still belonged to one another. Slowly, you relaxed into his embrace, your mind slipping into the realm of dreams. There was no funny business to be had tonight.
---------------
Madara invited you to his main house on a day Izuna was not in residence. He had plans for you today; plans he didn’t need his overzealous brother around for.
Gaping in wonder, you turned in a circle. Every new perspective granted ornate wonders. If you thought the ballroom and Madara’s penthouse were extravagant, this manor went well beyond what those venues offered. It was modern in style, but possessed an old world charm that was difficult to describe. Coffered ceilings dropped down to meet carved pillars and paneled walls. Antique Japanese wooden furniture and furs sat on luxury stone or hardwood floors. The choices were tasteful and nothing was overdone.
Madara brought you around the mansion for a tour. After multiple sitting rooms, waiting rooms, offices, guest rooms, saunas, and pools, your head spun as you were led down yet another corridor. Servants who came across you and Madara bowed in deference.
“I am going to get lost here,” you whined. Your entire condo was smaller than one of his closets.
“You will find your way around quickly, I’m sure.” You were sure you would as well if you didn’t want to be the subject of so many curious glances.
Madara made sure you were treated like a queen. You spent the rest of the day with him, curled against him on a velvet sofa while watching an assortment of movies in the home theater and gorging yourself on meals that must have been prepared by a Michelin star chef in the dining room. You washed and soaked in a scented bath that was fit for a goddess. You played foosball together, but of course he didn’t let you win easily.
The door shut and locked behind Madara. You knew why he brought you to his bedroom tonight. You felt nervous, but you too wanted to see this through. This was a long time coming.
---------------
“I love you Madara.”
He looked upon you lovingly, glad to finally be together. It must have been the potency of his love for you that had him undone.
He fixed you with his piercing gaze. “I love you more,” he confessed.
The sun crested the horizon in your life again.
You were enchanted by the intensity of his expression. Madara was fire. His body was warm as always, his love and grace living things that kept the fire bright.
Madara was like the burning sun that lit up the skies and illuminated the world. But for you, he was more akin to a warming fire than a searing bonfire. You did have another home.
Home was wherever Madara was.
Instead of cutting your story together short, you couldn’t wait to turn that page to continue onto the next chapter of your life with him.
---------------
Dance music sounded deafeningly as lights blared in the salsa bar. You were on another date with Madara, but this one was special. Izuna and Jasna joined you and Madara in this group date. When you mentioned you had never been to a salsa bar and Jasna also expressed her interest, Madara suggested she come along. Izuna invited himself. He was a natural, a social setting being Izuna’s innate habitat and Jasna was already at ease conversing with him. You both cackled and mocked Izuna for something he said before sashaying to the dance floor.
Izuna and Madara shared a look as they watched you and your friend dance with abandon, guffawing like hyenas while singing along to the song. The curve of your eyebrows furrowed at a comment Jasna made, then your cheeks pulled up and dimpled as you laughed at your own joke.
*“When marimba rhythms start to play Dance with me, make me sway Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore Hold me close, sway me more”
“Like a flower bending in the breeze Bend with me, sway with ease When we dance, you have a way with me Stay with me, sway with me”
Your rhythm was correct, even if your steps were wrong for the kinds of dance this song demanded. You and Jasna made up for it with childish enthusiasm. You twirled each other and Jasna dipped you down to the beat. You were so silly, so dazzling. Madara laughed in earnest with Izuna, your light blinding in the darkness of the room.
“Other dancers may be on the floor Dear, but my eyes will see only you Only you have that magic technique When we sway, I go weak”
“I can hear the sounds of violins Long before it begins Make me thrill as only you know how Sway me smooth, sway me now”
There was no one else he wanted to spend his life with. He would do anything it took to keep you happy. Madara sauntered up to you, the crowd parting before him. Your eyes met. The power behind his stare was like he had you hypnotized with his gaze, but that was of course impossible. Your heart filled with warmth at the sight of him. Others may not see him for who he truly was, but for you, loving Madara was as natural as breathing.
His next words would forever etch themselves into your soul.
"Dance with me."
~End~
---------------
Notes:
I am incredibly proud of myself for finishing this story! First fanfic I’ve written in well over a decade! I hope you found the ending believable and satisfactory. The premise of this story was simple from the beginning. One theme I wanted to highlight in this story was good relationships where the partners do not communicate their love the same way and the difficulties that can arise. When you were with Madara, whether that was cooking for him and lavishing him with attention, or spending quality time together, that was when he felt your affection most. Whereas for her, those things were important, but she was indeed feeling inferior with this man who was larger than life. She also needed the words to confirm Madara’s feelings at a time when she was ready for the conversation. As we know, Madara is more a man of action than words, until he is pushed to speak his deepest thoughts.
While there are many unhealthy relationships with glaring red flags that should be promptly cut off and discarded, I sincerely believe there are many people too willing to hastily throw away what they have before even attempting to fix what’s there. Getting into a relationship isn’t the destination, but only the beginning. Maintaining the relationship is the difficult journey requiring hard work from both sides and an ongoing process. “Journey before Destination,” my friends.
Yes Madara can be so petty (and a STUBBORN hypocrite) until his heart told him he couldn’t stay away any longer. His cold shoulder backfired hard on him 😆
Writing Madara in his different moods (the spectrum ranging from romantic, to awkward, silly, angry, frustrated, regretful, horny, and completely, utterly elated and in love) was challenging and I hope I did him justice. The goal was to have him still behave like Madara even when he was feeling fluffier.
I hope you enjoyed the journey between Madara and his nurse over the course of these past weeks! What a great month I had bringing them to life! 💖
*The lyrics at the end of the fic is of course from the legendary song “Sway.” The version in my mind is sung by Michael Buble.
Wow I am blown away by the reception to my two Hellsing fics! Thank you for everyone's support! It feels like Alucard x Reader fans are very thirsty, but then again, so am I! Ideas starting brewing for both of my two Alucard stories.
"A Night for Hunting" was intended to be a one-shot, but will now be expanded into a series of (probably short) chapters that will be like cutscenes showing how the relationship developed between Alucard and his Reader, from being her uninvited yandere stalker to becoming her lover.
"The Queen/Music of the Night" will be a (probably long) one-shot that is the alternate happy ending to "Without You." Here the Reader will make the choice to turn into a vampire and stay with Alucard forever. It will also be an incredibly emotional story.
Right now I'm equally invested in both stories and working out the details, which I want to get down while the passionate creative juices are still flowing. The poll below is to let me know which story you're more interested in and I'll dedicate more time to that one first. Madara asks will still be answered in between story-writing.
Happy Valentine’s Day! Madara doesn’t celebrate! So we bring Valentine’s to him.
Tried to come up with words to some letters that are a bit different. Have fun!
A- Asking you out
He’s quite awkward but acts nonchalant and indifferent. You were possibly unaware he was romantically interested. He knows he isn’t a great flirt, so he hides this by being forward and blunt like he normally is, making a date invitation sound a lot more like an order.
B- Body part (Favourite)
Are not his eyes. While he acknowledges their power and utilizes them to devastating effect, each Sharingan upgrade was derived from significant personal loss. His Sharingan is a reminder of his greatest losses and failures. Even his Rinnegan was only obtained after a lifetime of exceptional bitterness in his heart.
His hands are more favoured. Not only do they get him through regular stuff like the activities of living and taking care of you, they help him carry out many of his amazing feats, like forming hand seals, performing taijutsu, and wielding weapons.
C- Cuddles
He is affectionate in private with you when he no longer has his public image to maintain. He enjoys lengthy, wordless hugs anywhere in the house, as long as it’s with you –by the entrance, lying together on the couch, in the shower. He’s the one who will nuzzle you and hold on for a few more moments when you’re ready to part and do the next thing in your day. Your presence and touch drive his demons away.
D- Dominant MADARA is uber dominant. That’s what the big “D” in his name stands for, aside from the obvious. He likes making the major decisions in the relationship and would be upset if he wasn’t consulted. He is however easygoing on the more trivial choices in daily life and readily goes with whatever you decide. Careful, he will take advantage if you’re too agreeable with him. Don’t be his doormat. Remember, he likes to be challenged so he can prove he’s right.
E- Emotions
Expresses his feelings through physical or practical means. That includes defending you from enemies, acts of service (ensuring your coffee is made the way you like it in the morning, taking care of laundry from time to time so you won’t have to worry about it), sex, and through lingering non-sexual touches. Madara ensures you are clothed, fed, and have a safe place to sleep. You will be provided for and know you’re loved, even if he doesn’t gush about it. Madara isn’t the best with words unless he’s waxing deep philosophy or roasting someone.
F- Fighting with S/O
Madara’s not going to hit you, because let’s be honest. If he were to strike you in an argument, you would likely get seriously injured and/or die. This drama king often practiced conflict resolution through battle and getting himself beaten up (which sometimes he let happen, like with Gai so he could get his adrenaline rush), so he will let you hit him, on the other hand. I don’t advocate abuse from either partner, but Madara would let you hit him if you chose to out of anger until eventually, either he stops you or you run out of steam. At this point, he’ll try to talk things through, even if he is harsh and blunt (with no clue how to make his words sound nicer) and this first attempt may not resolve your differences.
G- Good Morning (how does he wake you up) Usually he gets up early and leaves you sleeping after giving you a kiss. On other days, if neither of you have anywhere to be that morning, he stays in bed with you in his arms until you wake up naturally at an hour when you’ve had enough sleep. After memorizing your waking expressions, he kisses you all over despite your attempts to dodge him because you have morning breath.
H- Hypertension
Something that irritates and gives him a high blood pressure is a messy environment. Madara is an orderly person who probably has OCD. If you’re messy, he will try to rearrange your stuff and teach you about organization, until you can’t find your stuff due to his meddling. Since Madara wants you in his life and you’re not changing your ways, eventually you and him will call a truce in some areas of the home/in life where you get to have your way and he will turn a blind eye.
I- In Labour (and Delivery) He’s a nervous wreck and a bit of a monster, even if it isn’t the first child you’re having. Madara already lost too many people and he’ll be damned if he loses you too. It doesn’t matter to him if childbirth is much safer today than in the past. He yells and glares at all the people trying to help you, feeling helpless because he isn’t useful in a medical setting. This is his way of attempting to exert some control over the situation. He’s a disruptive menace and would have been thrown out long ago if anyone was capable of such a feat. Depending on your demeanor and stage of labour, maybe you snap and demand he leave. Otherwise he will bear your crushing grip on his hands without a single complaint and whisper words of encouragement and love to you throughout the entire course of labour. He’s civil again only after mother and baby are safe. Wait, but then he’ll be in over-protective papa mode. Never mind!
J- Juvenile
Madara is silly when he’s happy, which admittedly isn’t often. A friendly spar gets him going, while challenging him in dumb things (ex: a race, whoever can eat more of something, etc) will bring out his sense of competition and more childish side, provided whoever he is competing with provides some sort of resistance. He loves a good fight, even if it isn’t really a ‘fight.’
K- Kiss
Madara is a passionate deep kisser when given the choice. He prefers taking the time to explore you properly and unwind, which he only does in private. On rare occasions in public, he may pull you aside for a chaste kiss when he’s feeling emotional for you. He’s a visual man and likes to peek at your kissing face.
L- Little ones He loves children despite their fear of him. It’s one of the only times he has any semblance to being soft. Madara would love to have his own children with you. He is also the type to adopt kids and be a mentor to them. He is involved in his children’s lives, ensures they are trained properly, disciplined and is a firm, yet fair father (or father-figure). He will not be as cruel as his own father, not wishing to perpetuate the harsh style of upbringing he endured.
M- Macho
This silly man is a dramatic show-off. At home, he’s casual about his strength, offering to help lift heavy things and open tough objects. Whenever you happen to catch Madara training, he flaunts flamboyantly and needlessly performs much fancier techniques to flex for you when he’s sure you’re watching.
N- No (Deal breaker)
Do not lie or betray him. Madara highly values his bonds. It took so much for him to trust and become open with you. Therefore, he holds you to a certain standard. He expects you to reciprocate and be loyal and honest with him. He will give you the world and all of him in return.
O- Openness (when does he start revealing things about himself?)
Not any time soon. This man is paranoid and only trusts himself and a few of his closest kin. In fact, you should feel honoured if he even deigns you worthy enough to speak more than a few sentences to at a time. Madara telling you the deepest secrets of his heart? You’re more valued than you’d ever understand. Now that you got him to open his mouth, be prepared for an earful and him to not shut up.
P- Protect
Madara is at his heart a protector. Everything he does is about protecting others, even hypothetical future generations (which later morphed into a twisted plan to take responsibility for all humankind and forcing them into a dream world). He loves having people depend on him, which gives him purpose. He is generally peaceful until anything threatens those he swore to protect. He will ruthlessly destroy those things without remorse.
Q- Quizzes (how much does he remember about you?)
Everything, including all the small details about you and even if he’s quiet when you tell him things casually in passing. You’ll be the one to forget anniversaries or that you have an appointment tomorrow where you are supposed to bring extra shoes, not him.
R- Random Headcanon
Madara takes care of stray animals, sometimes bringing them into his home for the ones in direr need in order to feed, medicate, wash, and care for their injuries before releasing them. He’s a kind man at heart and someone has to care for those weak, forgotten beings. His previous rescues occasionally visit him in the garden. He doesn’t let his falcons out when his small animals are visiting.
S- Serious
He is seriously serious about his relationship with you, once he figured out he’s romantically interested, wants to be involved, went through asking you out, and is actively courting you (plus the other steps). He’s extremely committed and will try his best. I’ve mentioned before that once you’re his, he’s also yours. It would take a lot for him to give up on you and your relationship, likely a betrayal of unforgiveable magnitude on your part, which he would never get over.
T- Talent(less)
Madara is talented in almost everything and can learn basically anything he sets his mind to. Possessing the Sharingan is a useful shortcut for those endeavors. But what about the opposite? Madara is a terrible fit in any sort of therapist profession where he has to give advice related to people’s issues. Try picturing him as a psychologist, psychiatrist, or a marriage counsellor.
Madara actually has the perfect tools set up to make him successful in each of those fields –a deep understanding of human nature, excellent analysis and critical thinking skills, heck he can look into his victim’s mind with the Sharingan! He sees the problem very clearly. His issue comes back to his lack of talent in social interactions. His delivery of his diagnosis to patients would be interesting. It's way too blunt, and when coupled with his amazing insults, his patients end up more traumatized and with more problems than they started with. Perhaps his help leads to a divorce.
U- Unrequited Love
I am (very) biased, but how can anyone not love Madara once they get to know him as a person beyond his reputation? He has so many great personality traits once you get over a few of the less positive ones haha.
Unrequited love will be very painful for Madara, even if he’ll be accepting of this. He dwells on his undesirable aspects and why you shouldn’t be together. He holds this pain to himself and lets it fester, but goes on with his life and ambitions, keeping an eye out on you from a distance. No one loves harder than an Uchiha. There will likely never be anyone else who’ll replace your position in his heart even if he wants to forget you.
V- Vulnerability
Madara presents a stoic facade, but he’s truthfully very sensitive and prone to be hurt by the ones he loves most. He remembers all your interactions, even your conversations down to the exact wording. Depending on the conversation and the health of your relationship at the time, he ruminates over your words and may take things out of context. Beyond the tough exterior, there’s that sensitive man who feels excruciatingly deeply. This vulnerability leads to him feeling hurt, even if he doesn’t show it until much later, when his emotions boil over and he pettily throws your past words back at you in spite.
W- Wanderlust
Madara enjoys traveling. He is more open-minded about people from different backgrounds than other shinobi from the Warring States generations. If there was peace and he wasn’t wandering the world as a bitter missing-nin, if he didn’t have the responsibilities as clan leader and was not founding a village, he’d be very interested in experiencing different cultures and customs.
If he could hide his scary aura and murder vibes, he’d appreciate the anonymity of people not knowing who he is and getting to live with some normalcy. If he had his beloved Izuna (somehow) and S/O with him, this would already be picture perfect to Madara.
Y- Yearning (what he does when missing you) When he’s away on missions, he replays his Sharingan memories of you. Some of these were captured during random endearing moments when he was feeling especially soft for you. They keep him warm on his darkest days, reminding him there’s still someone at home waiting for him, someone who needs and loves him for who he is. They give him strength and help him stay sane. He can’t wait to come home to you.
Z- Zzz (sleeping)
Madara doesn’t sleep much. Have you seen his eye bags? When he finally gets some shut-eye, he’s the model shinobi. It’s as light as a cat’s. You can’t sneak up on him. Even if he was sleeping, he wakes and knows when you stir in slumber and when you’re dreaming. It’s almost impossible for him to sleep at all without you.
mermay alucard i accidentally put more effort than intended oh well
yes theres 3 animals in there
30sF- Headcanons, scenarios, stories. East Asian, Canada
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