My New Fic, The Sound Of Snowfall, Is Now On AO3!

Twin Flames- Ch. 2

"My brother’s heart wasn’t the only one that stopped when we saw you."

Warnings: “sugar daddy” Madara x Nurse!Reader, romance, hurt/comfort, dating, handholding, masturbation, Madara’s birthday celebration

Words: 5596 On AO3

You were back in your territory at the hospital. It felt good to be back in control and not like a floundering baby hippo in the presence of the hottest man you’ve had in your life.

Today was just another typical shift. As always, you started off the day already mildly irritated at baseline and it built from there. But you and your coworkers always trudged through it somehow.

You had to remind yourself as your patient’s mother continuously wailed over her son’s state that while it was just another day at work for you, it was the worst period of this lady’s life. You patiently explained to her your observations about her son status, that while he was indeed still very sick, there was no need for immediate panic at the moment.

You exhaled in exasperation once she couldn’t see you. Coming down the hall to inform your charge nurse of the family’s request to be approved for longer visiting hours, you instead found a small group of staff huddled at the nursing station. There was an enormous bouquet with a card and a huge pile of individually boxed and decorated cupcakes from a nearby famous bakery.

Treats! Oh my, Madara knew how to get in nurses’ hearts. Quality treats, not just the usual cold boxed coffee from a bad franchise or the worst pizza the managers could get them. Hmm you considered maybe these gifts could be from Izuna too.

“Look! Y/N! Madara and Izuna remember you too! You’re mentioned in the card. Seems like Izuna is now fully recovered and they want to thank everyone for their care. That’s so kind of them. It’s been years.” One of the respiratory therapists filled you in and re-read the contents of the card.

“For sure. I still can’t believe Izuna made a turnaround. I was sure he’d be gone multiple times,” you replied. It was certainly a nice gesture, even if everyone was just doing their jobs. Their appreciation meant a lot, for instance, reminding you of why you went into this freaking profession to begin with. A part of your heart raged in contempt and disdain for the backhanded slap your local politicians gave in their latest mockery of an interview. Such disrespect.

You plucked a cutely decorated cupcake saying “red velvet” on the box from the table before disappearing into the staff lounge for your break. After heating your lunch, you noticed an unread message. Madara. Since the first date, you and Madara had been on several long phone calls, as well as texting daily.

Madara was asking if you’d taken your breaks yet today and if you liked the cupcakes. You let him know just started your lunch break and will have his treats soon. You thanked him.

“We could never thank you and everyone there enough. You saved Izuna,” his message read.

“We were just doing our jobs, Madara.” You replied.

“Even if you were just doing your jobs, the level of empathy and dedication you’ve shown wasn’t a requirement in the delivery of care. You’ve been above and beyond the entire time. Nothing we do in return will ever be enough.” You flushed, even if he wasn’t there to see it.

“Would you like to come over tonight? I can pick you up after work,” he offered.

Huh? “But it’d be so late! And you never know if I can even leave on time. Something could always pop up, and then I’d be even later! It’d be too much trouble! And I look like a raccoon after work. I woke up at 0500. And I’m usually in a poor mood after work and not sociable. I’d be terrible company!” You rambled. Oh my gosh. You’re going to his place already? Is he trying to sleep with you? The other part of your mind was more preoccupied with how awful you looked after a 12-hr shift.

“I will wait for you. Don’t worry, you’re not inconveniencing me. If you come over instead of us going out, you can shower while I finish cooking dinner. You can rest. I already have food prepared.”

You didn’t reply right away, so he added, “Just dinner, Y/N. No pressure for anything else.”

It was hard to argue with Madara, especially when you would love dinner and not have to scramble after work to figure out what to eat. Your only excuses were your worries about your appearance and visiting his house so soon. It wasn’t even like you were against going to bed with Madara, but you’d be exhausted and feeling raw before the date began. You agreed to see him again tonight anyways.

“Good. I will see you tonight.” He sounded pleased even if it was just a text.

The rest of the shift passed by uneventfully, until the end.

It wasn’t even your patient, but your friend’s in an adjacent room who started deteriorating with only an hour left in the shift. Of course, the witching hour. Caught up in the whirlwind of activity to try stabilizing this patient, you fell behind on your own tasks for your patient. It was 40 minutes after the usual time you’d leave the hospital when you were finished. Oh no, Madara.

You grabbed your belongings and rushed out to the hospital drop-off where you agreed to meet him and spotted him standing with his eyes closed, hands in his pockets and a leg crossed over the other.

“Madara! I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry to keep you waiting this long. I—“ a simple apology couldn’t adequately begin to describe how badly you felt.

He waved off your apology and opened the door for you. “I said I would wait for you, didn’t I?” Receiving such a sincere apology was strange, yet refreshing, to him. “Are you okay?” He suggested bringing you back to his place because he knew you’d be tired. He didn’t want you to worry about your next meal or going out. He didn’t mind waiting on you. The intention was to take care of you so you could rest, not to be a cause of more stress. Irritation tugged at his mind, but his features were practiced and smooth.

“I’m okay. Just really tired.”

The short ride back to his condo was generally quiet aside from a few more apologies while you were trying to settle in. Madara decided against bringing you back to his main residence in another part of the city. Partly because Izuna was there and he didn’t want to deal with him with you there. And another because this condo was close to your hospital.

He turned into his parking spot and you took an elevator to the top floor with him.

--------------- You stepped into a modern work of art. Minimalist soft leather furniture, floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the downtown lakeside skyline, a spiraling glass staircase that led to what was presumably a bedroom, high ceilings. A waterfall feature cascaded over a crystalline wall in the middle of the room backlit by artistic lighting. Wow, you paused to absorb the sight.

“Your house is beautiful,” you told Madara.

“Make yourself at home.” He held out his arms to help you out of your jacket, hanging it in the entrance closet. The heady aromas of heavy meats wafted into your sinuses and your stomach growled loudly. You were famished.

Madara smiled at you. “The washroom is this way.” He began to head down a hall when you informed him of your lack of alternative clothing. “I will find something for you.” He replied, not even breaking his stride.

---------------

You left the shower feeling slightly ridiculous, but much more comfortable. You were wearing Madara’s t-shirt and shorts, if it could be considered that. It was more like his clothing was using you as a hanging rack, the pieces of fine clothing much too large for your frame. The sleek silk felt luxurious on your skin though. Madara made no comments about your appearance upon seeing you, but he looked amused and pleased with himself, to your consternation.

“Dinner is ready.” He presented a spread of options. Your fleeting vexation vaporized upon seeing what he prepared, your eyes wide and salivating. “Madara, this is way too much!” The scent you nosed earlier was a roast beef tenderloin, too large a portion for only two people. There were also creamy mashed potatoes, some sort of fresh green salad, garlic bread, and an array of appetizers.

“Better to indulge in excess than insufficiency when entertaining. There is dessert as well if you would like.”

“I can’t complain. I am starving. May I help myself?” You were ready to load everything onto your plate.

“Go ahead. I’d be worried if you were left hungry. Would you like a glass? I heard you liked wine.” He popped open a bottle of red while looking at you with a knowing smirk.

Your eye twitched lightly, reminding yourself to mind your manners even if you were mentally and physically worn. Your plates filled, you dug in, accepting a glass of wine from your rather impromptu date of the night. The flavours and textures of every bite was heavenly. You closed your eyes and moaned, a part of you mildly surprised a well-off man like Madara could cook like this.

“I take it the food is to your liking?” He asked with pride.

You made a sound of agreement. “Yes this is amazing.” You continued to sate yourself on Madara’s kitchen creations. “Thank you…for everything you’ve done tonight…” You trailed off.

Adrenaline from earlier still kicked in your veins, but as your mind relaxed, your body now washed and fed after over 12 long numbing hours, you started to feel human again. You looked at Madara funny, an inexplicable feeling taking over you. You felt vulnerable with this powerful man who was still new to you, who still made you anxious and self-conscious. And this same man took care of you like you were precious and worthwhile. Cursing the emotional instability that wasn’t unusual post-shift, you suddenly found yourself in tears.

At first it was only a few silent tears you wiped away when Madara wasn’t looking. The feeling of being overwhelmed and out of your element however wasn’t so easily erased. It wasn’t even a horrible shift. Were you sad? Confused? Just completely worn out and depleted? What was happening?

“Y/N?” Madara asked in alarm and straightened to attention. He stood from his chair and tread over towards you. “What is wrong?” He replayed the events of tonight in an attempt to elucidate what could be the cause of your distress, if there was something he may have said or done as well. Madara brought himself down to your level and took your hands in his. He was equally befuddled.

Cheeks now flaming in embarrassment, you shook your head wildly. “I –I don’t know... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin this or be a bother. I shouldn’t have come here tonight after all. I can go.” Panic set in and you regressed to your way of evasion in times of emotional turmoil. But he didn’t let you flee.

Madara hugged you, distantly noticing the true size difference between you for the first time now that you were so close.

“Don’t go. You can let it out when you’re with me. It’s okay.” Madara was in truth also distressed. But the raging urge to comfort you remained strong despite such a feeling being a rather foreign sentiment in his normal life. His discordant emotions clashed, with the urge to provide comfort to you triumphing over his own unease. He held you more tightly to himself, stroking your back and softly uttering words of encouragement while you kept apologizing.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It wasn’t even like I had a terrible day. I just—“ You tried to remember your training. Despite your current tearful state, you were normally able to maintain your composure even when feeling wild panic during work emergencies. But here with Madara, it was useless. He broke down all your defences.

“There’s no need for you to keep apologizing. We are okay. You’re safe here with me.” Madara settled beside you. He continued to caress your head and back, running his hand up and down in slow laps. You took the intimate position as permission to burrow. Bawling, you delved deeper into his neck to seek refuge in his touch and presence. It felt like you were flayed wide open and he was seeing into your guts.

You didn’t even know why you’re crying. It was hardly the worst shift that could have happened, as mentioned. Perhaps it was the potent mixture of adrenaline, feeling you’ve disappointed the man you like, accumulated nursing traumas, stress about school, general exhaustion, and loneliness.

You stayed in each other’s embrace for an eternity until your feverish breathing calmed, your temple resting against Madara’s chest, lulled by the even, strong thuds of his heart. Reluctantly parting from him, you gazed up at his profile with puffy eyes and running nose. He traced your face.

“Are you still hungry?” He asked. You shook your head to answer in negative.

“Stay over tonight.” Feeling too raw to argue with him, you agreed and in an instant, Madara had you swept into his arms as he made his way to the glass stairs leading up. Madara carefully deposited you in the king bed lined with silken sheets like you were his treasured cargo. He indicated to you the washroom if you’d like to use it again and left you to disappear downstairs.

“Get some rest, Y/N.”

You didn’t see him again that night.

---------------

It was several weeks before you saw Madara again. You and him were respectively preoccupied with school and business in the previous weeks before the end of this year. School work came in waves. After submitting your final essay of the semester, you felt like a free woman. No assignments for a few weeks, no shifts to work this week, you were a new person. Madara had likewise been busy with year-end obligations, according to what you gleaned from his calls and messages.

The air was getting chilly. It was such a festive time of year and besides seeing your family, which you did yesterday, you wanted to spend time with Madara. It really felt you haven’t made as much time for each other as you should have. You parents had been elated to see you again, but incessantly prodding when it came to your love life. They became even more determined when you tried to change the topic.

You sighed. Good thing you moved out. They were so supportive and such lovely people, but there was no such thing as enough privacy when living with your parents as an adult.

Clutching your phone, you eagerly called Madara. You finally felt you could see him again after your incident. You wanted to see him despite that. He never mentioned your breakdown during the past weeks. He was the one who said the two of you were okay, that nothing between you was harmed from your display of emotion. You wanted to believe him. You haven’t known Madara for long, but it seemed to you he had always been straight-forward, even if he softened his words and tone for you.

“Alright. We can head to Yorkdale tomorrow. I have favours to purchase as well.” Madara agreed readily to your next date.

Bursting with excitement, you confirmed the date for tomorrow. Then you timidly asked if he’d like to come over to yours for dinner as well. To celebrate the holidays, but also his upcoming birthday.

---------------

Holiday tunes jingled in the air and the winter chill made your nose run. You bundled yourself deeper in a scarf as you and Madara made your way across the parking lot into the mall.

The atmosphere inside was electric. People swarmed everywhere, the first time they were permitted to shop and celebrate without restriction in two years. Holiday lights and décor flashed. The exhilaration rubbed off on you too. You were just happy to be out and about, not needing to worry about your usual woes right now. Not when there was so much going well in your life at the moment.

You grinned at Madara and grabbed his arm before you knew what you were doing.

“What did you need to get? Is it for a work acquaintance? Maybe I can help?” You battered the man with questions.

Madara smiled lightly at you, his expression going tender. He knew you didn’t realize you were almost dragging him along by the arm. “It’s actually for Izuna. I was thinking of a wool trench coat for him. He doesn’t like the cold either, surprisingly.”

You agreed to help with the search for Izuna’s gift, glad he was fully recovered. You’d learned through your prior conversations with Madara that Izuna was as obnoxious as ever, perhaps even worse than he was before the car accident when he was struck. Apparently Izuna took his recovery as a sign he must have been doing something right. Laughing at Madara’s recollections of Izuna’s troublesome adventures, you arrived at the store Madara had in mind.

You made Madara try on several coats for you even if he already had Izuna’s measurements. You hummed and hah’ed and had him turn to different angles for you. You were having so much fun. Eventually, you and Madara decided on a traditional tan coat that reached the knees. Classic, but posh.

As you strolled the mall, your hands brushed the back of Madara’s multiple times. His fingers slid against yours to grasp your thumb and forefinger, then came around to delicately wrap around your hand when you didn’t shrink from him.

You bought leather gloves for your dad, the gift for your mom already taken care of. He preferred a thinner material so he can grip the steering wheel better when driving, you remembered. You made Madara ‘model’ for those gloves too, roughly estimating the size your dad will require based on Madara’s hands.

Madara’s hand sought yours again as you walked. Feeling good about yourself, you laced your fingers through his. There were toddlers screeching in the background as they were forced to take photos with Santa by their parents, but it didn’t distract either of you. You could feel Madara’s fingers slightly twitching as he discreetly memorized your hand with his touch.

Something shiny caught his eye and he turned, bringing you with him. Sitting there in the display was a gorgeous necklace, several fat rubies in the center each surrounded by a halo of smaller jewels. They were set into a dainty loop of gold. “Do you like that Y/N?” He asked you.

Realization dawned on you, but by then, Madara was already leading the way in.

Omg you were so stupid! A sales representative bounded over immediately to assist, and Madara requested for that necklace for you to try.

You didn’t think of Madara as a “sugar daddy,” but what was he to assume when you agreed to a shopping trip with him?! You were mind-boggled. You couldn’t accept such a gift from him.

“Madara stop. I can’t. I don’t even wear jewelry. All I do is go to school or work. Or stay home. When would I even wear something like this? It doesn’t suit me.” You tried to reason with him.

He frowned. It was stunning on you. The neckpiece wasn’t your Christmas gift. He felt like buying it when you two happened upon it because he thought it’d suit you. What was the point of possessing such deep coffers if he rarely spent any of it for himself? He wanted to gift you pretty things. He also wanted to provide for you.

“Y/N, you don’t need to wear it frequently, but please have it. It’s beautiful on you.”

“You don’t understand Madara, I can’t accept such a valuable gift from you!”

“Do you not like it?”

“It is gorgeous of course, but—“

“Then there shouldn’t be an issue. Y/N, I want to, for you. It would be my honour if you accepted it.”

What do you say to that? You didn’t know. Madara nodded to the salesperson to complete the transaction and took you away.

---------------

You were subdued once again in the car, feeling unsure. What were you, a perfectly normal woman, doing with someone like Madara? Someone who can toss around cash values with more zeros attached than you’ll ever see like it was nothing? You were leagues apart. Worlds apart actually.

Madara sighed as he drove to yours. He took your hand and squeezed. He tried to express what he felt earlier. As he got to know you over the past months, all he felt was a deep goodness in you. He had come to care for you deeply. Even seeing you at your weakest only drove his compulsion to look after you and made him yearn to see you again. He understood the feeling of being so raw it brought you to your knees, like everything was falling apart. He didn’t think any less of you for it.

What would you think if you knew he bought clothes for you too, now stashed at his penthouse? Several articles of clothing he estimated were of your size so if you stayed overnight again, you’d have something more suitable to wear.

“When I’m with you, I’m just ‘Madara,’” he began. “We are equals.”

You looked to him in shock. “What?”

“I’ve seen inside you to who you truly are already.”

“Umm…I’m not sure what to say to that. That night when I cried isn’t how I normally am.”

Madara was frustrated with himself, feeling like he was talking in circles. He tried again. “What I’m saying is, I would like to be with you, if you will have me.”

You were reasonably sure your eyes couldn’t open any wider. “……I like you too…” You glanced away from him, now that you were pulling towards the visitors’ parking at your place. “But you can’t keep lavishing me with expensive gifts like you did today. I won’t have them!”

Madara was so relieved, he conceded. Somewhat. He smiled. “Then I will refrain from spoiling you excessively.”

You liked him. And wanted to be with him too. That was a good enough start for him.

 ---------------

You hadn’t known what to get Madara for a birthday and Christmas present or where to take him out to. He can buy everything himself already. So you decided to invite him for dinner at home. If it was extra special and you put much more effort into the meal, you figured he wouldn’t mind if you combined the two occasions.

Your small home was decorated with lights and a small tree, which was also layered with strings of lights and ornaments. Red and white pieces accented the space in various ways.

The first thing Madara noticed upon stepping inside was the fragrance. It was a complex mixture of florals, chocolate, and vanilla, but not overpowering. Then he noticed the plants. Dozens upon dozens of pots of exotic blooms filled the window and console tables. Some resembled elegant spiders locked in a row. There was one that only had a single reddish-orange flower, which looked like a butterfly. A monstrous plant exploding with small colourful blooms, like dancing ladies. That was part of where the smell came from.

“Hehe. I like orchids a lot, as you can see. When you have enough of them, there’ll always be something in bloom.” You were tremendously proud of your collection. You spent so much time and effort caring for your babies. You brought Madara for a quick tour around your small condo, exuberantly telling him snippets about several specific plants, showing him your bedroom and the second bedroom that also doubled as a den, informing him of your plans to personalize your home more in the future.

He silently took note of your interest in these plants and he studied several more closely. He acknowledged your hobby lent the space a serene, natural feeling. He was at ease here.

“They are beautiful, Y/N. How many do you have?”

“I have around 30-something adult plants right now! Plus the ones under grow lights in the bedroom!” You brought him back to the living room, the walls dotted with several framed paintings of still life you did years ago. Those were excellent too.

“Have a seat! Would you like something to drink? I have options other than wine too.” Still you referenced your blunder on your first date.

Madara smiled fondly and accepted a cocktail you whipped up for him. You owned a collection of proper barware. Seating him on the couch, you returned to the kitchen to finish cooking the dishes you prepared for earlier.

You bustled around the kitchen confidently, chopping extra ingredients, searing some meat, adding extra spices to a pot, artfully plating the dishes, the faucet turning on and off between steps. Madara discreetly watched you as he sipped his drink. You were joyously humming a holiday tune before randomly switching to sing a top-40s pop song. He marveled at the normalcy of being with you. It was extraordinary to him and he loved every moment of this.

Feeling like an addict craving more of your light, Madara came up behind you as you worked and embraced you. You froze. Madara was so warm. Like a furnace was searing you from the outside. Or did you turn the heat on too high? Maybe it was the stove, but it was getting hot.

“Madara?”

He mumbled something about needing this against the back of your head before releasing you and returning to his seat, leaving you perplexed.

“Umm…I’m almost done cooking. We can eat soon.” You went to open the window for some fresh air, hoping the winter chill will help alleviate your reddened cheeks. Darn your traitorous skin tone for revealing those emotions so easily.

“Take your time. There’s no rush.” Madara was a patient man. He can wait.

---------------

“As you told me that time on the phone, about that long-haired man you liked calling a buffoon. You told him off saying he was causing too many issues with his idealistic idiocy. I had something similar happen for me recently at the hospital too, with a family member.” Dinner was ready, many dishes littering the table, and you were excited for Madara to try your food.

“Hn? I didn’t say that,” Madara denied.

“You did! Those were almost your exact words. At least you said you did.” You laid the final dish on the dining table and invited Madara to join you.

“I wouldn’t speak so crudely, not in front of a client or a business partner.” He knew exactly who you were currently referring to.

“Eh. This is why I prefer texting. You usually insist on conversing over the phone, but I would be pulling up the evidence of what you said right now if we had this discussion over our messages.” You harrumphed at him.

“Texting is no way to have a proper conversation. I still don’t understand why you favour it.” He spooned a large piece of butter and garlic roasted lamb and eggplants, seasoned with herbs and a truffle-infused balsamic vinegar, onto his plate.

You looked at Madara like he was an alien. “Because I can answer at a time that suits me best. And I’d have eternal evidence of the things you said.” And because I can think about my words before I reply so I don’t sound like a complete fool to you.

Madara didn’t look convinced.

You sighed. “I’m a Millennial, it isn’t unusual to prefer texting over speaking live on a call. Actually, you’re a Millennial too.”

“Hn. I am older inside.” He closed his eyes to savour the taste of your cooking.

What an old man, you pondered affectionately.

“A year older now. Happy birthday Madara.”

---------------

“This is for you.” Dinner was over, much of it devoured by Madara, who seemed to truly enjoy what you prepared. He took out a wrapped package and handed it to you.

It was early, but you opened it anyways. It was a beautiful complete set of Japanese handmade Damascus steel knives. Madara’s company made blades, among other things, and these were top of the line. They were stunning. The waving patterns on the blades mesmerized you, the wooden handle graceful, and the feel in your hands was balanced perfection. You’d be using these extensively in the kitchen.

You teased him, "Are you already trying to invite yourself over for more of my cooking?"

He frowned. That wasn’t the intention of his gift at all. Based on what he learned about you, including your love for cooking, he thought you’d enjoy a more practical gift like quality knives than the jewelry he bought you today.

You snickered and let him off the hook. “I’m only joking Madara! Don’t be so serious! I love these. Thank you for such a thoughtful present.” You held the boxed set close to you. “I will use them every day. And you are invited to come for a meal again.”

He was quiet when he gazed at you again, pleased you adored your gift. And glad you were comfortable enough to jest with him. “You’re welcome,” he replied simply.

You led him to the couch for a movie of his choice after refilling your beverages. Madara honestly didn’t care what you watched tonight, but he selected something to humour you. When you extinguished the lights, he spent more time watching you watch the movie than he paid attention to the plot. It was dark, but his eyesight had always been good, and with the screen light, he was able to observe you well enough. You jolted at certain scenes, the jump scares so ridiculous anyone should have predicted something coming. Your eyebrows popped up before smoothing back to their original position.

You crept closer to him as the movie played, your posture rigid. Madara leaned into the couch, shifting his weight so he was also closer to you. He put an arm around your shoulder, but you were too distracted with scaring yourself silly to notice. A jarring scream boomed and you lurched, crumpling against Madara’s side as you continued to stare at the screen with horrified wide eyes through splayed fingers.

Madara would have laughed at your useless visual barrier if he’d been in his right mind. He bent down, tilted your face, and kissed you.

HUH?! One instant, you were freaked out over some un-killable ninja zombies with superpowers. The next, you were just as stupefied to be locking your lips flush with Madara’s. He brought a hand up to cup your face and rub his thumb to your cheek, his soft lips staying in place over yours.

The kiss went straight to his pants. He turned more and wrapped his arm around you, wanting you close, yet trying to keep the kiss chaste. Madara reminded himself to be a gentleman and not to let his hand wander from your waist. You felt something stiff poking into your thigh and you tense, pulling your leg slightly away while your lips stayed connected. He pecked you several times before taking your bottom lip between his again, running his tongue over it and suckling.

With your foreheads touching, you ran an uncertain hand down his chest, tentatively tracing a finger down the front of his pants with the lightest of touches. You pressed your thighs together. Madara chuckled.

"I will wait for you," he said.

---------------

Madara returned home. He settled into his bed while thinking back on you. You were radiant, beaming at him in hospitality, dressed as comfortably as you could be in sweatpants and t-shirt.

You’d never been so relaxed around him before. You had been buzzing around your home, expertly pulling different ingredients and tools from their assigned spots to create magnificent dishes for him while chattering and humming your favourite songs. You were so eager to be an excellent hostess; to ensure he was comfortable as well.

You were adorable. He leaned into his pillows, picturing your earnest smile as his hand travelled over his flat stomach. Further south. He palmed himself. And yet you were shy when you kissed. He could still taste you when you tensed and your eyes opened in surprise. You tasted like honey. So sweet and delectable.

He imagined you beneath him, with the buttons and ties on your clothing loose, hair sprawled over the pillows in his bed. It was glorious.

Madara tugged himself in languid strokes with only his thumb and first two fingers around the top and underside of his shaft. He resisted the urge to fist his member and pump hard, preferring to savour the image of you in his mind. He stroked your belly under the shirt, your clothes came off. He was inside your hot, wet cavern, your moans echoing through the bedroom as he made you his.

He spilled himself into his foreskin, holding it shut with his index finger and thumb to contain his release. His fluid flooded the small space, warming his sensitive head and giving him another buzz. Some of the bountiful load escaped his fingers’ confinement and seeped from the loose skin, oozing down his cock.

Madara couldn’t wait to see you again. He was determined to make this work.

~To be continued~

---------------

Notes:

Madara is an intensely private person in my mind, and quite easy-going as well with his loved ones. He prefers quiet places, like home. To him, a great time is time spent with those he cares about. He would not enjoy receiving a lavish gift in return. A gift that the person (S/O, family, or anyone he cares for) spent time creating with him in mind, like a special dinner, is much more meaningful to him, especially when it can be shared. He loves stuff like that, spending quality time and/or doing activities together.

Thank you very much for the virtual hugs, all those compliments are a reality, you are simply incredible and so is your work! :)💖

I understand that you are afraid of "spoil" the story since I'm almost sure that most of us readers of your fanfic were looking for something a little spicy and romantic when we started reading the story haha, more than anything I was surprised by the level of crudeness in the one in which you wrote the chapter, I didn't expect it but that doesn't mean I didn't like it.

And yes you are right, although the world can be a beautiful place, it is also ruthless and cruel and in a war is where this dark and miserable part of the human being is most reflected, I love history in general and it is interesting study wars but it is still depressing to read all the horrible acts and consequences of war, that is something that hellsing executed very well. (Especially the Nazi issue) 😥

Wow, you really took the time, it shows that you are taking this seriously and it is admirable. I understand that it is stressful since there are many themes and historical references within hellsing, cheer up!

I hope I don't bore you with so many questions but I'm curious... Have you read the novel Dracula by Bram Stoker? I know it's a bit silly because you are literally making a fanfic of Hellsing and Dracula himself but maybe you haven't read it, I honestly haven't read it since I want to read it from the physical book haha.

Uhh last thing, I love that the reader does have a role in the story and is not just "in the way", I also like that the secondary characters also have a leading role, it was sad to read the death of the reader's bodyguard 😢, Thank you very much for answering my questions! 💖

I don't speak much English so I'm sorry if the question isn't very understandable. 😓

Never apologize for your English! I understand you perfectly well and in fact, you are more articulate than some native English speakers 😊! I think it's very admirable when people read in different languages, especially unfamiliar ones, to improve your language abilities. And I live for long questions/comments 😘.

Yes there is an element to not wanting to ruin the story when it is going well. I think the themes up until now have been generally 'safe' for a majority of the audience. However, another reader asked me sometime last year whether Millennium will feature and I decided to include them in this fic. Ever since I made this decision, the plan was always to go big with Millennium and have them do terrible things on screen. It just took awhile to get there. So the audience indeed got some of that spice and romance...and now MORE! The entire spectrum of feels! Muahaha. It probably was very surprising to see some of those less appetizing new tags, but this was how I envisioned the story going and I'm thankful for you and the other readers who are still here.

Sometimes I need a break from reading what war crimes happened. Or I do a double-take to check if I read correctly. People seriously do horrific things to each other, monstrous things. It'll be a reoccurring theme with Millennium. I also understand that some people wouldn't enjoy seeing the Reader sexually assaulted when it's technically supposed to be them. At the same time, I just can't see her getting out of this scot-free. It'd be unrealistic for nothing to happen to her as a Nazi prisoner.

Okay so funny thing is, I didn't read the Bram Stoker novel. I make fun of myself for exactly the same reason, but at this point...ignorance is bliss 😬. That saying where "the more you learn, the less you know" applies. I'm scared I'll learn something huge and feel like changing something this far into the story haha. Instead I just Google specific facts I want to know from the novel. Also, while the Reader can be interpreted as being like Mina Harker, I myself would rather not be Mina, a reincarnation of her, or any descendent of her. I am me (accidental Major quote) and I'd rather self-insert as myself. One day I'll read Stoker's novel and poke more fun at my fic.

Omg thank you so much! Technically, reader-inserts are supposed to be a 'less active' blank slate. At the same time, in a longer fic, it doesn't make sense to me for her to be completely passive with no personality, a passenger to her existence in her own story, so to say. That would make the story bland and uninteresting. It is also impossible to create a Reader who would behave as every single person who reads this fic would. Instead, I guess the audience can think of her as an OC without the physical descriptors and name? At least that is how I experience other writers' reader-inserts. She's still a little bit of a damsel in distress, but I like it and think it can be forgiven in her case, since she's just a civilian human mired in the world of the supernatural.

Gareth the bodyguard was a good guy. I'm not sure if you are familiar with the 2001 Hellsing TV series. That is where Captain Ferguson, Andrew, Gareth Henderson, and Chris Pickman come from. They are elites and 3 of them were great men. I liked how the Hellsing paramilitary from the TV series was an actual trained force that dealt with ghouls and vampires, unlike Ultimate where it felt like Hellsing's troops were all fodder besides Alucard, Seras, and Walter. It was a fun watch until the final villain, imo!

Thank you for such sweet encouragement! I do feel better about all of it 😁. Thank you so, so, SO much for these messages!!!!!

But Madara would take this by a long shot 💓

"You remind me of him, Uchiha Izuna." ... we are not the same, you won't be able to understand my pain.

I hate to say this, and like, rain on everyone’s parade, but after scrolling past three posts about it on a writing tag …

If you are looking up synonyms to exchange words out in your story with the purpose of sounding smarter, more sophisticated, or complicated to your reader, you are probably abusing the thesaurus.

Now, if you *want* to do this, I mean, you can write whatever or however you want! But I just want you to know that this is frowned upon if you are trying to write at a professional level.

I have an old article on this somewhere …

If you want to look at the original article…

https://www.septembercfawkes.com/2018/08/how-to-use-thesaurus-properly.html

septembercfawkes.com

How to use the Thesaurus Properly

Some authors say to never use a thesaurus. But guess what? I use one all the time. Why do some authors say that? Because a lot of people in

Discussion #1

SPOILERS BELOW ‼️

"I still see the same spirited young woman I met fifty years ago, Your Majesty. In fact, to my eyes, time has made you even more beautiful, Your Highness."

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so fucking precious. they were the only two people within that room during this moment and no one else mattered. i loved their bond in this scene, and the way he sighs calmly when her fingers wrap around his face — almost as if he was saying "finally." he's such a charmer with his words, and so incredibly sweet for still finding the beauty in olden flesh, reassuring elizabeth that she had absolutely nothing to worry about regarding her appearance.

same thing could be said about the moment he returns thirty years later, telling integra that he saw nothing wrong with her when her hair was fading gray and her skin crinkling. he most likely felt passionate about her even greater, especially after witnessing her eyepatch, adoring her ability to withstand a life-changing blemish all the while he was absent. ( i always admired how integra took that bullet from major like it was NOTHING. one of the baddest bitches in anime hands down. ) and the moment when he addresses walter, calling him and his new vampiric body ugly and telling him that he looked much better before he committed his betrayal.

this made me create a headcanon that alu always finds the beauty inside of his significant other's insecurities, no matter they be wrinkles, stretch marks, cellulite, acne, love handles, scars, etc. basically all things that society's standards deem hideous as if they aren't natural or humanly. alucard appreciates humanity and its attributes to an extent, so i don't see him being bothered whatsoever over someone else's physical self-doubts or self-hatreds. i imagine him instead taking the time to remove his glove just to gently trace over and feel his partner's stretch marks and/or scars, telling them, "You worry so much over how you look, but to me, my dear, these are the very features that make you who you are, and you dare be ashamed of it," referring to their individuality and uniqueness. this is quite similiar to what he tells the Queen, right? because that is the kind of person he is deep down. he's so respectful and mature when it comes to matters concerning those he cares about.

this is personally why he's my main comfort character as well, because i have my own insecurities ( we all do ) and the fact that he finds beauty in something that many do not, i feel so much better about not only myself, but loving this man in general lmao. he definitely has his own insecurities, being that he views himself as nothing more than a monster, not only because almost all of the enemies he encounters are literally throwing that into his face 24/7, but that he regrets his past decision on becoming one. this also leads me into creating another headcanon where he adores receiving assurance from his partner. telling him occasionally here and there that he's handsome or beautiful in their eyes, though he may refuse to believe it more often than not, would let him know that not everyone cowers in fear at his mere presence and finds him to be this disgusting, rancid beast. he would feel accepted. welcomed, for once.

and that's another thing; he's just such an appreciative character. for example, in ova 10 when he feels himself disappearing after absorbing schrödinger, he begins to reminisce his previous death as he looks on and admires the sun — the sun is a symbolic piece in this entire series to me, because it represents what he turned his back on during his time as a human, officially declaring him a creature of the night. you would think that he ( a vampire ) no longer cares for the sun, and he even claimed to hate it and its light, but towards his final words, he states, "And each time I think . . . how lovely that sunlight, which I forsook so many centuries ago . . ."  which affirms that he still finds beauty in the earth's nature and in life itself despite what he is and what he's been through. that is another example of his humanity prying through his well-believed "monstrosity."

hirano did an absolutely amazing job in fabricating his ambiguity and behaviors. this version of dracula is unlike most of any version's psychology and morals. i could go on and on all day conversing the depths of alu's mindset and his view on humans in particular, but i'll save them for more future discussions!

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[ also. i understand that him and the queen have simply a close friendship and that he praises anyone's growth into old age regardless, but i also love to think that he was lowkey flirting with her here LMAO. like his expression in the picture below. i would internally melt if he looked at me like this, oh my lord. there is something about the look in his eyes that is so titillating. ]

A Night for Hunting Ch.20 -Millennium

T/W: 18+, NSFW, Alucard (Ultimate) x F!Reader, pining, Nazis, war crimes, canon-typical violence, kidnapping, sexual assault, implied gang rape of minor, forced oral sex, torture, executions, psychological horror. Dead Dove Do Not Eat. Words: 5408

Some people will find certain scenes in the upcoming chapters upsetting. Real Nazi war crimes are featured. In no way are the actions of Nazis glorified, but their inclusion acknowledges the atrocities that were committed and the senseless suffering caused by war. I believe these scenes fit into the violence typical of this series, but I updated the rating of this story to “Explicit.” These parts aren’t cute at all, but are meant to be horrifying because that’s what Millennium is like in canon, even if the anime made the characters seem comedic in their evil at times. The Hellsing OVAs are rated 18+ in many countries to begin with.

An excerpt below the cut

“Come on……Ugh!” Both of you groaned as the ball dropped on an odd number and you had to fork over your chips. So there was no strategy in roulette for a novice like yourself, only leaving your fortune up to fate as the wheel spun and decided how to land, and your luck sucked tonight. Even the lowest risk picks were a loss.

You sighed and decided to opt in for just one more round before calling it a night.

Screaming drifted through the room. Spine-curling howls echoed in the distance, followed by the banging of heavy objects crashing to the floor. It was reminiscent of Alucard dropping his coffin lid on the ground to let you in whenever you went to pillow with him. 

Silence belonging to a funerary procession hung over the crowded space as the stunned guests stared at each other like lost sheep while trying to pin the unnerving sounds to a source. The unmistakable sputtering of machine guns broke the hush and several bodies crumpled to the floor like bags of sand amidst more terrified screeches.

“That's more like it! Fucking Rip, taking forever to get onboard. It was getting boring waiting around in a box!” Someone announced loudly.

Beside you, Chris cussed under his breath as you saw Gareth scanning the room from a distance. You didn’t catch who spoke as Chris grabbed your arm and hauled you to another aisle.

What was going on?!

Glassware shattered as they slid from the bartop and met the floor in a shrill explosion of shards. A brief disorienting sensation caught you by surprise as you quickly adjusted to avoid toppling over from inertia. The ship was rapidly putting on the brakes.

A man stumbled forward blindly, trying to pull his intestines back into the gaping cavity as he bled out. You’ve seen this kind of sordid violence and butchery before. Chris wheeled you around.

Terror was a cold, icy feeling that was almost paralyzing. Somehow you knew whatever horrible thing that was occurring had to do with Alucard and Hellsing. It was like watching a gruesome sequence unfold in a video game, or when you dissociated from what happened on missions –you barely noticed the pandemonium as the guests began to panic and scatter.

The bodyguard tugged you along and you traipsed through the aisles. In the unlikely event anything was to happen, you were to pose as the significant other of either Chris or Gareth. If any unscrupulous party was to be seeking you, the act was less suspicious than for a nameless civilian to have two military-trained bodyguards. It was crazy that the unimaginable scenario was now playing out.

Unspooling viscera tumbled from fever hot tissue as more people were cut down from the frenzied crowd to dissuade stampeding. Your thoughts sputtered as fractures of terror resurfaced. Chris stopped behind a set of slot machines and you peered out at the clearing ahead where a dark-skinned man with a giant eye on his hat pointed a rifle at a woman’s face.

"We’re looking for a vampire's bitch. Is it you?" 

"No! I don't know anything!" She replied in a hurry.

The man cackled as he reached for her face. “Then you’re useless, ‘ey? Slut.” Her skin sagged in the iron grip as she was smashed headfirst into the floor over and over and over, a sticky wet slurp accompanying each impact.

“Hey Jan, that’s a woman. We are lookin’ for a woman. Can’t be killin’ ‘em yet,” someone else muttered.

‘Jan’ paused in dashing his victim’s brains across the carpet as he considered his actions. “Something like this is part of The Doc's science, no? I'm just helping add to his nutty data set!” He laughed with a familiar tone, one that desired more gore.

The facts from your training came to you quickly. These were certainly vampires, not ghouls. Their purposeful actions suggested it, but their supernatural strength confirmed the suspicion. 

The nightmare had only begun to unravel.

~To be Continued~

Ch.21 -The Monster of Legend

me: I'm going to write a fic to my own entertainment

also me, writing said fic: