Madara Is Really Good To The S/o

madarasgirl

2 years ago

Twin Flames- NSFW Chapter Five (End)

“I was on that blasted site to find you…You are exactly who I’ve been searching for all these years. And there is nothing in this lifetime that keeps us apart.”

On AO3

For my fan @margretesonigiri. Happy Murder Monday 🔪

Warnings: partially NSFW, romance, drama, conflict resolution, lots of dialogue, gratuitous smut, love making, cunnilingus, 69, face sitting, body worship, unprotected sex, mating press, breeding kink

The smut is under the cut. For readers who don’t do smut/are underage, you can skip the long sex scene and the ending will make sense. SFW version of the chapter here. Words: 7759

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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.

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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.”

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“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.

[Long smut scene under the cut. You can skip to the end if you want]

Gazing at him fondly, you proceeded to start removing your clothing, but was stopped by Madara stilling your hands. He stared back at you hotly. After everything, he was going to undress you himself.

Slowly, tantalizingly, like he was unwrapping a priceless gift, he rolled the hem of your shirt over your stomach. You raised your arms to help him take it off. Reaching for your back, he kissed you as he undid the clasp on your bra, never breaking eye contact.

The sun crested the horizon in your life again. You rubbed your hands against his chest and torso, appreciating the hardness of his body, and carefully unbuttoned his shirt one at a time until it fell open to reveal his skin. You stared reverently at the art that was his body.

He didn’t let your eyes wander for long, unfortunately, eagerly coming back to rest his palms on your hips and pull you to him. You sought his lips again as you ran your hand through his silky hair, pleased with how you finally got to do that. A hand grasped your rear and squeezed. Rolling your butt against Madara’s paw to encourage him, you guided his other hand to the hem of your pants. He dipped his fingers under the cloth to feel the skin on your hip.

Not needing further prompting, two large hands suddenly found themselves beneath your underwear, grabbing, kneading, pulling your butt cheeks apart and smooshing them back together as Madara groped you shamelessly. Flushing in embarrassment, you averted your gaze as you realized you liked his manhandling.

He had you against the wall, not even a few feet into his room when he made you lose your pants and underwear. You stood fully naked, feeling so exposed. Fidgeting, you shyly covered your mound with one hand and draped a forearm across your chest, your cheeks burning.

"Enough. No more hiding or running. Show me," he commanded. Not long ago, it seemed you were getting ready to leave his life forever. Thinking back on that time put an unsavoury taste in his mouth. That didn’t matter anymore, Madara thought distantly. What mattered now was the woman before him, who chose to stay despite his blunders.

You obeyed, hesitantly slipping your hands to the side to reveal his prize.

You felt so self-conscious. Surely he had countless better partners before –ones with a more desirable figure, possessing more experience and who could please him better than you knew how. You felt you didn't belong with him in his inner sanctuary, but tried to reason with yourself. Remember Madara chose me. You squirmed, but remained uncovered for his inspection.

Madara was breathless. He ravenously consumed the spectacular sight of your nakedness, your body perfect to him in every way. Obsidian eyes followed the curves of your figure, enthralled by the angles on your collarbones, the tips of your breasts, and the smooth expanse of your torso. There was so much to see, so much to touch and explore. He will have all of you. His gaze dropped further south until he made acquaintance with your kitten for the first time.

“I want you,” he growled.

His tone woke a primitive part of your mind which shuddered in nervous anticipation. “You may have me.”

Nudging you flush to the wall with his own body, he got to work. His kisses were firm, more possessive than during the day. They demanded you yield to him, greedy hands matching their owner and squishing into your plush breasts and hips. He traveled to provide the same treatment to your buttocks and thighs, sucking your lips as he grabbed wherever his hands could find purchase, molding you into playdough for his enjoyment.

He kneeled before you again, though the mood was much different this time. He tilted his head to flicker his tongue against the surface of your mound as fingers prodded at your vulva, digging into the plump flesh and parting them to discover the treasure within. He salivated from his sampling taste. Bringing his mouth to suck at your clit, he then lapped at your smaller inner lips, the silken skin intoxicating. He had waited so long for this, and at last, here you were with him. Not enough.

A fingertip pulled back your clitoral hood and brushed directly against the most sensitive spot on your body. Forget playdough, Madara was determined to liquefy you, beginning with your legs. Knees giving out as you bucked in shock, you almost fell on his head. He chuckled as he pinched lightly at the little nub several times in between licks.

You continued to squirm, attempting in vain to escape Madara’s sweet torment by twisting and pulling away, the sensations too much to bear. Madara’s sinful mouth held fast to your crotch and followed your slow descent to the floor, his long raven hair pooling around him on the floor.

“Wait! Madara, what about you? I want to touch you too!”

“Patience. You will have me,” he promised huskily without pause in his actions.

He lay you down and spread your legs, earning his first good look at your pussy after removing your offending hands from obstructing his view. She was so pretty, so little and delicate next to his brutish strength. He softened for a moment and rubbed your calves adoringly to remind you that he was also yours. He eyed your puckered rosebud, promising himself the opportunity another day if you were interested.

Madara was steadfast in his sensuous manipulations of your body. He licked down your body from your throat to your collarbones, journeying down to squeeze and twirl around twin breasts. His trail left goosebumps in its wake. He made his way to your belly, his soft touches unintentionally tickling your senses as he kissed your abdomen and pelvis.

You watched through hooded eyes while he settled his bulk between your legs and ate you, your hands gently caressing his face and scalp. He was hungry, animalistic, his nostrils flaring as he buried his nose and scented your most intimate parts. He fluctuated between light and hard touches to your poor clit, his lips lapping and tugging at your inner labia, sometimes alternating by sucking on your vulva whole. Suddenly he looked up at your face. You gasped, unable to form words as his full appearance registered. His eyes were wide with freakishly dilated pupils, his stare as dark as the abyss. Wild lust emanated from him when he made a show of licking his lips and fingers while holding your gaze.

Maybe the image of the decorous gentleman he presented was only to reel you in.

You whined low in your throat, shaking. Your pussy oozed, the pleasure he pulled from your nether parts did away with all thoughts of decency.

“Madara, please let me see and touch you. I can’t wait anymore! I want to make you feel good too.” You tugged on his bangs to interrupt his meal.

He grinned at you. “You think I don’t glean pleasure from this?” He straightened out on his knees, towering above your splayed form to show you. The huge bulge stretching the front of his slacks was proof enough. “I could eat your pussy every day for breakfast and find myself sated.” He laughed at your awestruck expression upon encountering his clothed erection for the first time.

“But if you insist, very well.” Madara plucked you from the floor as he stood, cradling your cherished form as he strode across the dimmed room and carefully deposited you in his bed. Goodness, his bed was something monstrous. It was surely custom-made and much larger than the standard king sized, silk sheets and pillows adorning the plush mattress. You felt tiny sinking in.

He lay down close by and guided you on top of him, turning you around so you straddled him, but backwards. Your face was at his groin and yours hovered over his face.

“Take what you want,” he told you with a smirk you were unable to see, again running his tongue lengthwise up the inner surface of your snatch.

You jumped with a squeak. Determined to not be outdone entirely, you brought shaky hands to his pants, popping open the clasp and lowering the zipper. Gulping, you parted the opening to his slacks, heart pounding in anticipation as his tented boxers came into view.

“What’s wrong? Stopping there? I thought you wanted to see more,” he taunted with a Cheshire grin. You pouted indignantly, quickly pushing down his boxers and pants past his rear as Madara helpfully lifted his ass to assist your efforts.

A semi-hard piece of meat swung and almost smacked you in the face. It sat proudly in the warm room.

“Oh my God,” you sputtered.

Madara dared snicker at you! “It is too early to pray, Y/N,” he informed you.

The nerve of this man! You were no blushing virgin, even if Madara had you feeling like one. You huffed, dropping your head to peek at his face from between your legs. He didn’t catch you looking because he was captivated by the sight of your cute vagina winking at him from mere inches away. Your opening was barely visible.

His cock bobbed in excitement, pre-cum already beading invitingly at the tip and dripping to his pelvis. The erotic scent of his musk hit you, encouraging you towards depravity. You wrapped a hand around him to weigh his heft and licked from base to tip experimentally. He hissed. His cock was too thick. Your fingers couldn’t enclose his massive girth, making you worry about how he will fit once the main course was served.

You continued your explorations. Running a finger down his length to trace several veins, you petted his penis and scrotum, playfully jiggling the firm orbs in their loose sack. You giggled and tried to take him deep in your mouth, failing early from his sheer mass rapidly occupying the space, your lips stretched to their fullest and his tip hitting the back of your throat, making you gag. You made a discontented sound, resolving to practice much more with Madara until you could suck him back whole.

He moaned in a quiet exhale, pausing his slurps to your clit and vulva briefly.

The sensation of a thick muscle sliding into your hole drove you into a frenzy. Your keens and pants filled the room. Madara twirled his tongue inside you, needing to taste all of you as he continued pressing skilled fingers to your bud. There was no more embarrassment from you, a base need possessing your mind as you were at last skin-to-skin with Madara.

You rode his face, soaking him in your slick. You were distracted from the sensations Madara elicited, no other man having ever come close to bringing you to this point before. What was this feeling? You couldn’t focus enough to keep blowing him. You massaged his member, pulling until silky skin wrinkled and sliding it backwards to retract it. Burying your face into his lower pelvis with your nose against his privates, you could only manage a few swipes of your tongue to Madara’s shaft as he devoured you like you were his buffet.

The act of drinking his goddess’ nectar directly from its source shot through his caveman brain to his rod, now harder than steel. He split your legs wider and you held the position for him to feast. You were like a honey pot.

He slipped a finger inside your needy cunt and quickly added a second. You were tight. He groaned. It was going to feel so good in there. Your lover rubbed the pads of his fingers around and curled them to investigate the ridges of your walls, to begin his lifelong study of the altar that was your body. He pressed into the furthest reaches of your sheath to trace circles around your cervix, making you whimper.

You remembered through the fog. “The string you feel at the back is my implanted contraception,” you told him.

“Hn. Good.”

Madara lay beneath you, one hand plundering your hole and rubbing your clit. His other hand found a breast, teasing the nipple until it formed a pebble. He relished the soft moans he coaxed from your lips and causing your uncoordinated movements as you attempted to stimulate him in return. It wasn’t necessary tonight, but he appreciated your efforts. Tonight was all about you. He was rock hard regardless of what you did.

You gasped and writhed, begging for mercy as you were driven into sensory overload. Yet you gyrated against Madara’s lips, sitting on his head hard and sucking his balls, you grabbed his face and humped it. You smeared his face all over your slimy cunt, needing more pressure to get yourself over the ledge.

Madara was drunk from feeding off your need. He held onto control by the thinnest thread as he continued to let you use his face and tongue for your pleasure and fingered you intermittently. He had to get you stretched if there was any chance you would accommodate him. Having waited this long, he would certainly show you the best of times.

Hooking your legs around his head, you moaned, trying futilely to bring his tongue and fingers deeper. You were kneeling on his hair, unknowingly pinning Madara to the bed, the range of movement for his head severely limited without yanking on his locks. Your voice reached a fever pitch as the dam broke. Gasping, you unseated yourself from his face. He was drenched, even down to his forehead and bangs. The musk of your release saturated the air. It was quiet. Did you drown him?

Madara finally remembered to breath and started panting in dumbstruck wonder, grinning from ear-to-ear. After falling over on the mattress in a mumbling, boneless heap, you were still at his mercy. You had been so pliant in his hands. Pleased with his work, he wiped his mouth with the back of a hand.

Your eyes met briefly as Madara maneuvered your loose limbs into a different position. 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. He looked almost feral. Now he was going to claim you.

You tensed as you felt you should ask. “Madara? Do you have a condom?”

He frowned. “I don’t.” Shit, he thought. Were you going to ask him to stop?

A decision had to be made. “…I’m clean,” you told him.

“As am I.”

“…I trust you.” As you expressed your faith in him again, Madara only felt cozy affection through the haze of his arousal. He bent down to press butterfly kisses along your jawline.

Your eyes bulged as he positioned himself by your entrance and started pushing. He was thick! Even with your flood of lubrication, it felt like he was knocking the breath out of you. Unconsciously, you rippled against Madara in your attempt to accommodate his intrusion.

With your small lips rhythmically clutching at him, Madara was addicted to the feeling of your pussy sucking him in. He pressed onwards slowly, not wanting you to request him to stop or worse, to injure you. Those were unfounded worries. Your quivering ridges fluttered on his cock as he slid home.

You held onto his shoulders, but otherwise lay still in ecstasy. The mind-blowing stretch from Madara’s entry was ever present, but it was no longer a cause for panic. As he pushed to the hilt and stayed seated within you, the stretch eventually dulled to a pleasant sensation of fullness. You were whole.

Madara needed to slow down. He wanted you to like this, no, to love this. He wanted you to reciprocate his hunger and keep coming back to him for more. He growled, fantasizing about making love to you every night, in every position, against every surface in the house. In each of his properties. Until there came a point when you were loosened up and could take him easily. Staring at your dazed expression, he thought of marriage, your belly swollen with his child, and building a life together. His euphoric mind ran through scenarios as he stayed motionless to allow you to get accustomed to his body in yours. His reveries were interrupted when you spoke up.

“I’m okay. You can move now Madara. But please, go slowly!” You whispered.

What a delicious, torturous texture from your walls. Control was slipping. Madara wanted to be gentle… his eyes fell shut.

He had to fuck you now.

Madara withdrew his hips, studying your expression attentively as he snapped back in. You bounced and gripped him tighter, earning a quiet grunt from Madara. He repeated his motions.

Madara obeyed your request: the pace of his thrusts slow, but each plunge was hard. You mewled, fingers slipping between your thighs to rub at Madara’s jewels. You wanted this, wanted him. You wriggled, hips moving on their own to assist with your penetration. You met him thrust for thrust with fervor, gazing back wantonly as you pulled his hips into your core.

He moved his arms from the sides of your head, which prevented him from crushing you. Primal need approaching the top of a crescendo, he pushed your knees to the mattress to fold you in half and got on his haunches, each drive now more frenetic and impossibly deep. It was an exquisite angle, hitting a gratifying spot that sent electricity coursing through your body.

Madara continued to squat into you, sinking in so his balls slapped your arse lewdly with every drive. Your soaking pussy slurped at his cock battering her, sucking at him instinctively to milk him of his essence. You couldn’t move or do anything at all except take it. The thought of your naughty position made you delirious. You were stuffed, each wet slap driving you higher towards nirvana.

You looked up at him submissively and stroked his cheeks that were baptized in your juices as he rutted like an animal. “I love you Madara.”

Your soft words seemed to break his concentration. He stared passionately, the sight of you impaled on his shaft clouding his thoughts with arousal and desire.

As your climax crested, another decision to make was at the tip of your tongue. “…I won’t get pregnant.”

“…” He grunted, the purpose of this brief discussion already dawning on his frenzied mind.

“…If you want, you may finish inside me…” You whispered while staring at the man you loved.

Your words made Madara’s brain do cartwheels. He missed a beat and almost came right there. It was an affliction of the wealthy, but the warnings about women who tried to baby trap other rich men momentarily crossed Madara’s mind. It was terribly inappropriate timing. He also knew you weren’t that sort of women and felt guilty even involuntarily associating such a situation with you.

But Madara would love to have children with you and certainly would not mind if you baby-trapped him. He looked upon you lovingly, glad to finally be together.

He picked up the pace, pushing deep and fast, his focused expression in stark contrast to your blissful, fucked out countenance. He rubbed your nub frantically. Moaning softly, you finished a second time, the strength of your release washing over you in waves.

The spastic jerking of your walls pulsed on him. Uncharacteristically, Madara could not hold on for much longer. It must have been the potency of his love for you that had him undone.

With a soundless roar, Madara came to the thought of how deeply he felt for you and the fantasy of fertilizing your eggs. His cock twitched, sending vibrations through your pouch as his seed flooded you. With nowhere to go but out, his batter escaped, seeping down to coat your crack in your combined fluids.

He fixed you with his piercing gaze. “I love you more,” he confessed.

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~

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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.

Twin Flames- SFW Chapter Five (End)

“I was on that blasted site to find you…You are exactly who I’ve been searching for all these years. And there is nothing in this lifetime that keeps us apart.”

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