“Sugar daddy” Madara x Nurse!Reader
For my biggest fan @margretesonigiri. I hope you like this chapter! Happy Birthday Izuna, Obito! 🥳🤗 On AO3
Warnings: Romance, flirting, angst, drama, hurt/comfort Words: 4515
Examining yourself in the mirror from every angle, even you had to admit you looked impeccable.
You decided to go pro with your hair and makeup tonight. You wanted to look good for this party. You wanted to look amazing for Madara. A subtle glimmer veiled the eyeshadow, accentuating the shape of your eyes framed by long lashes. Slight contouring brought out the definition on your features, a peachy blush you suspected you won’t need once you saw Madara kissing the apples of your cheeks. Most of your hair was pinned back in an elaborate display of curls and ribbon, with wisps of loosely curled strands coming down the sides of your head ending past the shoulders. It wasn’t like you didn’t recognize yourself, but it was rather unusual for you to spend such time and effort on your appearances. The end result was worth it for this event.
Madara arrived to pick you up tonight at your door, a black SUV with his chauffeur attending downstairs.
Madara regarded you in appreciation. You looked better than good. You were hot, touched by a hint of innocence. The curled strands falling down to frame the sides of your face made you look as if you’d just gotten out of bed, but it was sexy and tasteful. It wasn’t too coiffed and artificial. He couldn’t get enough of the sight of you.
“It seems I haven’t invited you to enough of these events. You look stunning Y/N,” Madara rasped, continuing to appraise everything about you and continuing to discover more to behold. Your gorgeous face, the hair, your dress, the nails. You wore the ruby and gold necklace he gifted you. He meticulously eyed the designs on your legs. Like the first date, he picked up your hand to kiss the back. This time, you didn’t go brain dead. You stepped close, brushing your fingers down his chest and claiming his lips briefly. Madara’s presence went to your crotch. She stirred, as if waking from slumber for the first time in too long. It may have been freezing outside, but neither of you were going to feel it.
“As do you.” He donned a tuxedo for tonight. It had to be tailored for him, the cut hugging his hips and chest, the image of perfection. He was the picture of a sophisticated gentleman, one who exuded a mysterious charm and held an edge of danger. Such resemblance to the knives and swords he created. He was extraordinarily handsome and you couldn’t believe he was your date for the night.
You smiled shyly, allowing him the pleasure of leading you to his vehicle while he gallantly offered his arm.
The privacy display was activated, shielding the driver from whatever the occupants behind did. Madara popped open a bottle of champagne and offered a bubbly chute. “For you.”
You accepted the glass, thanking him for inviting you tonight. “It’s my honour to have you with me,” he replied smoothly. The seats were soft, a burgundy leather. Patterned wood trim framed multiple surfaces in the passengers’ area. Jazz filled this space, the brass instruments setting up a classy ambient atmosphere for the ride.
Gasping, your eyes were trained frantically in the direction of the driver as Madara slid up to you, not touching, but close enough to feel his breath and body heat. He closed the distance between you, a hand sneaking under your knee-length coat and coming to rest on your thigh.
“He can’t hear or see us.” When you didn’t resist, fingers skimmed the surface of your sheer floral-patterned pantyhose, coming inches up your legs until he halted at a location that was still safe enough to be considered somewhat decent. His face was close, discerning gaze carefully watching your expression, as if he was waiting for permission.
Frozen, your mind flew through what was happening. This was Madara who was touching you. You opened your legs a fraction, but that was all he needed. His hand traveled more as he tilted his head before he once again took your lips. Madara was patient and gentle, his touch remaining light. He didn’t grab your crotch like he yearned to. Instead, he stayed tantalizingly at the junction between groin and inner thigh to pet the spot, while his other arm went around your back to pull you slightly towards him.
You didn’t stop him from doing more. From the onset, you were never against a physical relationship with Madara, although your preference was to become more familiar before engaging in such acts. You didn’t realize you were clutching his quads.
“I told you I will wait for you,” he whispered against your temple, pulling his limbs back to himself.
You licked your lips, cursing when you realized you ate some of the lip gloss.
---------------
Stepping foot inside the venue, you looked around in wonder as you entered with Madara. The opulence was astounding. The foyer was incredibly grand, covered in gold-veined marble floors, intricately carved stone statues artistically lining the walls, the ceilings were so high you could barely make out the details at the top. It was like you went back in time to a historical ball. The men were dapper, the women garbed in sumptuous ball gowns and jewels.
You could swear it got quieter as you and Madara arrived. What an attractive pair you made. People were staring. Though Madara was clearly the one who brought you, the one who was personally invited to a gathering of this class, you were the one who attracted these strangers’ attention. Numerous men, some elegant, some appearing haughtier than others, evaluated your appearance and presence, seemingly pleased by what met the eyes. Several greeted Madara and you in polite acquaintance.
It was the women who made you self-conscious. Some studied you in a peculiar way, their shrewd judgment making you squirm in discomfort. You couldn’t discern what they said to each other or their partners, but that didn’t matter.
"Keep your chin up. These people are no better than you." Madara commented flatly, leading you through the palatial grounds. You and Madara exchanged more cordial greetings with multiple other guests before you were led to your seats. A busser nodded at you and Madara in respect, “My lady, what would you like to drink?” You requested scotch. You knew you needed social lubricant again to survive this night. You plucked some hor d’oeuvres from servers circulating around the hall with trays of appetizers.
Madara chuckled, “Already starting with the strong liquor? There’s a long night ahead.”
“Madara! Let me be! I’ve never been to this formal an event before! This is white tie!” You were so worried you’d make a fool of yourself, which would reflect poorly on Madara. Good thing you consulted the professionals with your makeup and hair for tonight.
“Y/N, remember you are with me. Do not accept disrespect from anyone.”
Appreciating his sentiment, you nodded at him, but didn’t feel settled. You nibbled on your hor d’oeuvres and sipped the single malt scotch, reveling in every bite. Wow, the refreshments were tasty.
Madara continued to make light-hearted chatter with you, as if this were merely another casual date, in an attempt to soothe your nerves. He was somewhat successful.
He stood gracefully and held his hand out to you. “Y/N, dance with me.” Oh my, you took a few lessons in ballroom when you were a teenager, but that knowledge was long gone. Neither did you expect your first rodeo in years to be at such a high caliber. Not wanting to disappoint, you accepted Madara’s offer, but warned you weren’t very skilled.
He was so warm, his gaze affectionate as he walked with you to the dance floor where other couples already took their spots. Goodness, there were more spectators now. “Follow me. I will lead you.”
You were stepping to the rhythm slow-quick-quick, slow-quick-quick…this was a rumba. Under normal circumstances, you’d be bopping along to the sensual lyrics, but right now you could only focus on the drums which were keeping the beat, praying you didn’t misstep. You couldn’t help looking down at your feet to ensure their placement.
Madara was an excellent dancer. It was hard for others to differentiate from a distance, but so close, you saw the edges of his lips were pointed up in a tiny smile directed solely at you. Each step brushed the floor before he set his foot down, pushing your dress aside. He knew exactly where you were and never stepped on your feet or dress. He never looked down, the entirety of his attention focused on you. He signaled to pull you in, push you out. He twirled you. You and him were rhythm. Moving in tune to the beat with Madara’s body was intoxicating, but after one final spin, it all ended too soon. The song was over. There was clapping, even if it was drowned out by the ethereal feeling of you and Madara being the lone occupants on the floor.
The lights struck his figure in such a way. It accentuated the blue undertones of his hair, highlighted the refined arches of his cheekbones. It casted shadow upon his musculature, emphasizing his solid build through the layers of tuxedo. He was excruciatingly beautiful.
In the few moments when you were still in his arms, staring at each other after your first dance, he cupped your face and kissed you deeply in front of everyone. Your eyes were saucers. Madara never claimed you like that in public. Many guests paused to observe the spectacle.
He brought you back to your table and seated you. Bringing his hand to gently stroke the side of your head without tousling your locks, he murmured into your ear, telling you he had to attend to a quick business matter, but he will return to you soon.
He was leaving you alone! You fretted internally, anxiety once again hitting you like bricks, even if you agreed to Madara’s arrangement.
Quietly cutting a piece of the entrée that was served moments ago and gingerly placing it in your mouth, you glanced around the table. Every seat was now filled with men and women as dressed up as the ones you saw when you first entered the building. You nodded in greeting. Two different couples returned the pleasantry and you introduced yourself.
“Y/N? Such a beautiful name. How do you know Mr. Uchiha?” The lady of a kindly-looking couple asked you.
Mr. Uchiha? Sounded silly to you. You avoided the question, not about to disclose the website that brought you back into each other’s lives. “We met at the hospital when Izuna was sick.”
“Do you work at the hospital? Which one? Are you a doctor?” A different woman spoke up, this one immediately setting off a feeling of dislike in you. Her calculating gaze rolled over you in evaluation. It was mocking, the disdain close to the surface. “Please excuse me for my prodding inquiries, we’ve never seen Madara invite anyone other than Izuna to an event before!”
She called him ‘Madara,’ much more informal than the first woman. She must be closer to him or higher in hierarchy than the other guest. “I’m a nurse.”
Yet another pair chimed in. “Nursing is tough these days. It must be extremely difficult for you and your colleagues. Thank you what you do.” There were mutters of agreement from other guests.
You accepted their sentiment with grace.
“A nurse? Such a noble and devoted profession. So giving of yourselves, you even opted to follow your patrons all this way well after your services were no longer deemed necessary. Madara inspires such obsession, doesn’t he?” That beautiful woman you were already wary of offered you a sweet smile.
Pardon me?
You knew this woman was trying to humiliate you for your serving profession, but you weren’t biting. You were proud of and competent at what you did. And in your opinion, your job was vital to society and more important than a respectable number of people’s, including some of the ones seated at this table, even if they may be more finely dressed on a regular day.
She was also calling you a whore. Words were her weapon, carefully chosen to slice with precision like a scalpel. You tried to take the high road.
“Yes, I’ve made a difference in many people’s lives. Seems I can appreciate life more than most people can.” And you believed you did. You’ve seen the best and worst in people, seen as families clung to hope where there was none, and even then the families sometimes forced their will upon your colleagues. They may have screamed and thrown things and legally threatened. You’ve been forced to attempt every possible measure to ‘save’ those patients, because the family still believed their loved ones will pull through and walk out alive, no different from before they were first hospitalized. It was akin to torture, prolonging the suffering of these people for what could be months or more, as they wasted away, growing necrotic, their flesh sloughing off, dying multiple times as you were required to attempt resuscitation, breaking their ribs and continuing the horrible cyclical process over again. All that remained were the empty husks of bodies that still produced vital signs, until eventually even those shut down and the bodies could finally rest.
What you were forced to do was sometimes beyond inhumane.
You could appreciate the preciousness of life in a way many people will never understand. At the end of road, there was no difference whether you were a pauper or filthy rich. You couldn’t take any of that with you when you die. What did this woman know about life, or suffering? How could someone so ignorant even deign to comment on your service? Fury started to build in your mind.
Was life only the vapid pursuit of a hedonistic existence to a portion of these other guests here, whose festivities you’ve intruded upon? Where was Madara? You didn’t like it here. The mood grew tense at this table. You could probably hear a pin drop despite the background clamour of the party.
Deciding you had enough, you rose. “Excuse me,” you stated, before walking off to search for the restroom. You heard tittering as you left and internally scoffed at whoever made that sound, probably a Karen. Very mature. You came here to be with Madara, not to compete in petty rich people duels. You would much rather stumble around in a rumba with Madara than participate in this other type of social dance.
“Karen.” Another guest spoke in warning, but you’d already left.
---------------
Coming out of the single stall, you flattened your dress against yourself. There she was again, the wolf in sheepskin. She was finishing her touchups. Seriously, she followed you here? You groaned to yourself, not wanting to deal with her right now. Or at all.
She pretended your presence piqued her surprise. Snapping the mini compact shut, she stared you directly in the eyes.
“It was a fabulous performance you gave earlier! First time dancing?” She asked with a pleasant tone, yet her expression betrayed her snideness.
“Indeed. First time in a long while.” You replied tightly.
“I’m astonished! I never thought a newborn elephant could dance, it was absolutely enchanting. I’m sure many patrons haven’t been so entertained in some time.” She washed her hands, flicking excess water off, some hitting you, before drying her hands properly on a plush square towel. “Your dress! Excuse me!”
Anger coursed through your veins. She was getting bolder with your meek retorts, not even trying to veil her insults anymore. If you had a single useful thought in your hollow, elitist brain, every day you would learn many new things. How does Madara bear these people?
She insincerely apologized for splashing your gown. “Y/N, I am doing you a favour by approaching you about this. Someone like Madara will grow bored of you once he tires of lowborn novelty. He doesn’t love you. You will only be hurt by attempting to reach too far up.”
Attempting to reach too far up. Gritting your teeth, you replied, "Your bearing should make you much nobler than me, but it’s unfortunate money can't buy class." You gave her a wholly unimpressed stare. You weren’t interested in her pontification. “My relationship with Madara doesn’t concern you.” It was complicated and only between you and him, even if you’ve also been ruminating on the nature of your relationship lately. Finished your business in the restroom, you exited the premises to find your way back to your seat.
She sneered at you, condescension rolling off every fiber of her being. As if speaking with you was beneath her dignity, she snapped. "A commoner should learn etiquette before sullying spaces above her station."
You tried to think quickly, understanding Madara is higher in the social food chain than anyone here. You will likely be forgiven for saying something impolite, yet you wanted to return a witty remark, one that won’t be too crass or embarrass Madara. Your rage won out instead. How dare she. You were tired of trying to wrack your head for false niceties in comebacks.
With your heart pounding, your voice was filled with vitriol. “Are you a bitch just today or every day?”
She smirked derisively, as if she won the battle by making you break face and curse first. Her patronizing smirk transformed into a look of utter aghast in an instant.
Madara regarded her coldly and she slunk down in deference, but not surrendering entirely. “If a commoner must learn etiquette before showing their face, tell me, are you a commoner?”
She parted her mouth to speak.
“Do you think me tasteless, woman?”
“I would never dare, Madara!”
“You may not address me by my name. You assume to be more familiar than you are. I asked if you are a commoner.”
Madara acknowledged you by glancing down, before his icy furious gaze found its original target again. She hadn’t strung together another eloquent sentence since Madara’s arrival, her previous conceit gone.
“Hn. I suppose a lowborn wretch wouldn’t have the capacity to recognize your betters unless it was spelled out for you. By ‘your betters’ I mean Y/N, who has demonstrated grace and etiquette despite your continued baseless denigration. There is only one commoner here and it isn’t who you thought.”
Guests at the surrounding tables went silent at the exchange, nosy yet uncomfortable with such obvious conflict at a major gathering. The woman gawked, not yet having recovered her meager wits.
Madara maintained his glower at her. “She is with me. That was all you needed to know.” He took your hand and led you away. Madara had no issue with finishing his dinner in an awkward silence at their table. Let them say what they will about him. But you didn’t deserve this kind of poor treatment.
“Do you want to stay here or leave?” He asked you.
Grimacing, you confessed. "I don't like this place. It’s too stiff and the people are like cats."
---------------
Madara summoned his driver and you left together.
The adrenaline rush over, you suddenly felt very small around Madara, the subject of your affections who you were brutally informed was someone that shouldn’t be yours. “I’m sorry if my conversation with that woman was inappropriate at any point and if it reflects badly on you. I said some foul things too.”
You’ve never seen Madara verbally vicious, although you were certain he had it in him. You were aware he was harsher with strangers than you and Izuna. Seeing his wrath was still an experience.
“Don’t apologize for rightfully defending yourself. I shouldn’t have left you by yourself for as long as I did.” You shook your head to inform him he was not at fault. Madara was beyond rage that anyone dared insult or belittle you. That someone found an opportunity to lash you with such venomous words when he wasn’t present to defend you. “I’m sorry you went through that. Are you okay?”
Not looking at him, you asked, “Who was that?” You curled against your protector.
Madara snorted. “No one of importance. She was someone who wanted to arrange an engagement with either me or Izuna long ago, but we never gave her the time of day. Seems she forgot about everything except her unwarranted bloated opinion of herself.”
The woman was way out of line. No one else at the party treated you with such contempt, even if they viewed themselves superior. You understood this, but you weren’t used to conflict. Heart still pounding hard in your chest, you were severely shaken by the confrontation now that it was over, especially when some of that woman’s appalling sentiments were in truth thoughts you also considered.
---------------
You could tell Madara was still livid when you entered his penthouse together and he tossed his keys on the counter. He was already pulling off his tuxedo and loosening the bowtie as he tousled his hair and exhaled forcefully. You stayed close to the grand entrance momentarily before following him inside. You were quiet, slow, and methodical when you removed your winter coat and placed it on a leather chair.
Madara was suddenly in front of you, tucking you into his arms, his lips seeking yours in a kiss harder than he had ever given you. Gasping, you pulled from him and looked away, feeling heavily conflicted.
“Y/N?”
You took several steps back, praying the distance will help clear your mind. It was futile.
Trembling, your voice broke. "She wasn’t completely wrong…I don't belong with you. We're from completely different worlds. You should be with someone better than me. Someone beautiful, elegant, from a higher family more suited to your station."
Madara's face was blank. "Yet I am with you, no?"
You couldn’t find solace in his words. "I’m just a normal person, Madara. And I don't want you to buy me things, I was never cut out to be a sugar baby, it seems. Yet I stick out like a sore thumb even more among your wealthy crowd without those luxury items. I can’t do this anymore."
Tears trailed down your face and you sniffed helplessly, swiping your hands across your eyes repeatedly to remove the salty fluid, loathing your weakness in front of him yet again.
Madara straightened, stiff as a board. His voice was cooler. He didn’t pursue when you stepped away from him. "It was my assumption that was the way those sorts of relationships worked."
He agrees we are on different levels. Your eyes watered more at the confirmation on the nature of your relationship. His money and prestige for your time and sex. You didn’t even put out for him.
Yet…you wanted to be with him, even if it would only be a coupling of bodies and you wouldn’t claim all of him. It hurt immensely, but you couldn't get enough of this man, like you were a moth drawn to flame. From the beginning, it felt like there was something deep, like you were meant to be with Madara. But the more you reflected on your relationship, the more it was apparent it didn’t matter whether Madara was actually fond of you or if he regarded you as paid-for company. The extreme difference in social status wasn’t so easily overcome. Steeling your resolve, you looked him in the eyes, hands quivering as they went to your back to undo the zipper, opening your dress to start slipping it off.
Madara watched you in bewildered rapture at first, his gaze tracing every movement revealing increasing tracts of bare skin. Your delicate lace bra came into view once your top was exposed. He wanted you so much it was painful. But…he also wanted you to want this. He wished for you to enjoy being with him so much you'd keep choosing to return to him whenever you desired intimacy. He hated this nervous look of coercion painted on your features. Hated your tears. This was wrong.
He stopped you part way, grasping your hands in his, then sliding your loose clothing back over your shoulders. "No, not like this. Never like this." His grip was hard.
Something in Madara cracked, his piercing gaze pinning you. “This misplaced sense of inferiority in you is unbecoming. Did you think I let merely anyone into my home? Into my life?” He stalked towards you as you slinked away, until he had you cornered against the walls. “Or that I would turn over one of my properties to someone insignificant to me?”
He had to stop. This was no way to speak to someone he held dear.
Madara closed his eyes, jaws clenched, his frustration flaring. Irritation he didn’t realize he could feel towards you coiled in his chest. He allowed several moments to pass, to collect himself before he could verbalize truly malignant words. After all this time, how could you not know? What was this unsightly self-pity? His mouth pulled into a tight line, gathering his thoughts as he calmed himself. He wouldn’t be cruel, not to you.
"You still don't seem to understand. The intention was never to purchase your company or body. It was always to court you, to persuade you towards becoming mine."
“Meddling fools may be incapable of seeing your radiance and don’t deserve your company. That isn’t our concern. I’d rather you don’t fit in with trifling superficial crowds. What we have was never ‘those sorts of relationships’ you’re assuming.” He glared at you.
You were still gaping with an astonished expression, trapped between a wall and his sturdy body. You were shaking, close to hyperventilating. Madara took in your anguished state. This was agony for him too. He sat you on the floor, pulling you between his legs and into his body. Your heaving breaths eventually slowed and tears dried as you leaned against him, feeling uncertain in his embrace, but not yet wanting to leave. He wants me for me, the obvious conclusion settling in. You huddled up with your head nestled into his neck and he breathed you in.
It was late when you spoke again. “Madara? I’d like to go home tonight.”
“This is one of your homes. This place is yours now in every way except in title.” Madara felt uneasy now that the storm that was his temper passed, hoping he didn’t say too much. He held you more tightly.
“No, I’d like to go back to my home tonight. I can’t be here right now. Please. I need to be alone.” You pleaded, hoping he’d understand. “I’ll pack my things and call for a ride.”
He snorted, the notion you wanted to pack your belongings to abandon your home absurd to him. “Don’t be ridiculous. I will take you home if you insist. It’s the middle of the night in freezing weather.” He was not letting you go that easily. You were his.
~To be continued~
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Notes:
A gentle reminder that while Madara is softer with Izuna and her, he isn’t soft. Drama finds the drama king, who still wields a way with words like a kunai.
“Sugar daddy” Madara x Nurse!Reader
I heard people enjoy Izuna. Please have some more of him 💕. They were supposed to meet anyways. Happy early birthday Izuna! @margretesonigiri
On AO3
Warnings: romance, flirting, teasing, bratty brother Words: 3905
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“Izuna. You will be tactful tonight. You will not torment Y/N.” A deep voice sounded through the room, commanding the other man.
The younger brother almost busted out in laughter. “Yes, yes. I’ll behave myself. Wouldn’t want to embarrass you in front of your sweetheart,” he snickered cheekily.
“Your opinions are valued when kept to yourself. No one cares for them.” Madara glared disapprovingly at his younger brother. He wondered if it was worth bringing Izuna. “You are only here because Y/N wanted to see you.”
“Aw she cares about me more than your disdain for my presence! You should be careful. Maybe she’ll fall for my good looks when she sees it next to your sour puss! That must be why you didn’t want me here.” He lay fresh slices of a white fish in neat rows on a plate.
A knife chopped hard into the cutting board. You had suggested hot pot for tonight’s dinner, a traditional Japanese winter food, then stated it’s too much for only two people, so more should be invited, people like Izuna. You were excited to see his how his brother was doing.
“You can be at ease niisan. I won’t harass Y/N, she helped save me after all,” Izuna started sweetly. “You on the other hand…” Fair game.
You’d offered to arrive early to assist with the food preparation, but Madara declined, stating they were the hosts and it was okay for you to come closer to meal time. He needed to talk sense into his little brother first.
Madara glowered at Izuna. “Hn. I can handle myself. You should worry about humiliating yourself.”
The bell chimed and Madara went to answer it, his scowl dropping upon seeing you, replaced by a small tilt of the lips. “Y/N,” he nodded, “Come on in.” He moved to help you with your heavy winter coat.
“Madara! Hi! It smells heavenly in here. What are you preparing? By the way, I brought the whiskey you like.” You handed the loot to him and craned your neck to give him a peck to the lips after he turned back to you. Madara blinked. “Is Izuna already here?”
“Good evening Y/N. We’re just about finished getting everything ready.” Izuna appeared from the other side of the foyer, a knowing look on his face as he wiped his hands on the front of an apron.
“Izuna! It’s great to see you again! I’m so happy you’re well.” You smiled at Izuna, holding out your hand to him in greeting.
“The pleasure is all mine. Thank you for your care back then. I’m glad to be able to see you again too.” Izuna took your hand, but then pulled you towards him in a hug, his gaze soft. I hope this works out between you and niisan. He saw the changes in his brother over the past months since being with you. He suspected even others who weren’t as familiar with Madara as he was could see as well. Calmer, more willing to talk, happy. Your presence in Madara’s life was a soothing balm to him. “He talks about you all the time.”
You straightened, not expecting such a warm welcome, then relaxed and returned Izuna’s embrace. You were conscious of already feeling relaxed around Izuna, a stark difference from the nervous wreck you were on that first date with Madara months ago. “I hope those are only good things he says.”
“Only compliments, Y/N.” Izuna gave you a wink.
Madara led you and Izuna back to the kitchen, his hand unconsciously on the small of your back as if you didn’t know where the kitchen was. “Have a look. I think you’ll enjoy the menu tonight,” Madara said to you.
A stove was built into the dining table, the large pot on top already simmering. You spotted carrots, mushrooms, and tofu poking through the broth surface. The table was covered in plates of thinly sliced meats and seafood of every variety. Several sake glasses were laid out in waiting with inarizushi and other small dishes to the side.
A mixture of fresh, simple ingredients boiled together in perfect harmony, bringing forth a mouth-watering fragrance that saturated the air as the food cooked. It wasn’t too heavy at all. Madara asked what you wanted and served you first. Once the pot was mostly emptied, he placed the next round of meat to cook, keeping an eye out if you required anything.
“Cheers!” The trio of you clapped your sake glasses together and sipped. You thanked them for inviting you tonight to share this meal.
Madara plopped a piece of inarizushi in his bowl. “There is no need to thank us Y/N. It should be Izuna thanking us for inviting him over tonight.” He gave Izuna a sideways look.
Izuna snorted. “The more, the merrier. Do you not know the first rule of hot pot?”
“It probably isn’t to scoop all the meat for yourself.”
“It’s not my fault you only eat stuffed tofu.”
“Hn. I suppose someone needs more meat on the bones.”
You looked back and forth, then plucked a piece of that yummy white fish, which you learned was Pacific cod, and ate it. You sat back for the show.
The feast continued with shots fired in both directions. The roasts were getting spicy! You glanced between the brothers again, unable to suppress a giggle. If Madara and Izuna continued, you wouldn’t be shocked if they started spitting fire at each other!
---------------
A temporary truce was called for clean-up to happen. You were pleasantly surprised with this other side of Madara, never expecting him to be so silly when his brother was around. It was endearing and you’d love to do this again.
The leftovers were packed and you helped Izuna with rinsing the dishes before loading the dishwasher. You insisted on pre-washing the more heavily soiled plates before placing them in the machine. You had trouble with the cap on the new bottle of dishwashing detergent.
“Madara? Could you help me open this?” You asked, looking across the room at him.
It was only a second, but when he didn’t come over at once, Madara noticed Izuna giving him the hairy eyeball, as if daring him to tell Izuna to help instead since he was closer. The look plainly stated, Brother, you’re so dumb. Madara wordlessly made his way over to the sink where you were. He came from behind, wrapping his arms around you to grasp the bottle, and twisted it open. “You’re welcome,” he whispered against your ear before disappearing back to where he was, leaving you bashful while Izuna tried to stifle his laugh and failed miserably.
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Within the quiet setting of this spacious retreat in the sky, the mood was anything but tranquil. You played a strategic board game with Madara and Izuna while the brothers continued to abuse each other. Placing your tokens, you only realized your error after your turn ended. You scowled at yourself. Madara took out several of Izuna’s units, but agreed to an amiable trade more beneficial to you than himself.
“You two are like a gang,” Izuna complained, “picking on me constantly. There‘s no chance for me this game. I am green with envy for your relationship, but I’m afraid I might have the runs if niisan keeps coming after me.”
“Hmm like this green tea mousse cheesecake we’re having.” You mentioned offhandedly, savouring the delicious taste of your slice.
Madara stared incredulously at your comment. He didn’t need to hear your analogy, only to remember your profession and how you enjoyed these tasteless jokes at times.
You cackled at his expression. “Is the great Madara scared of a bit of poop?"
“We are having dessert.”
"So? I can still eat. What about you Izuna? How's your appetite?"
"I could eat your share too niisan. It’s a great cake," came the cheeky reply.
Madara's lip twitched. You weren’t this willful when you were alone with him. Fantastic, now there were two adult rascals he must supervise. “Izuna, I’m taking you out.”
The game ended with Madara on top, you in the middle, and Izuna losing after having most of his army annihilated by Madara. The victor was exceedingly satisfied with himself. And full of contentment, having spent the night with his two most cherished people in his home, even if one of them was annoying. Too bad he cared for his brother so much.
---------------
“You can use my bedroom tonight. Izuna and I will stay in other rooms.” Madara opened the walk-in and led you inside. “I bought you clothes in case you stay over so you won’t have to wear mine again. We can get more.”
“Madara! You’re doing it again. I brought my own clothing for the night you know.”
He bent down and took your lips, hands coming to your hips to hold you close.
“This isn’t nearly enough. I should be doing more for you,” he murmured against your lips.
Leaning into him, you kissed back with your palms to his pecs, accepting his embrace and the gift, deciding the clothes were a minor concession in the grand scheme of things, then stepped away to shower. Left to yourself, you thought back to how life used to be utterly mundane. The same things, day in and day out. Now you appreciated even the most ordinary, most boring parts of daily life which became colourful and exciting if it was with Madara by your side. It was like the sun broke the horizon and you finally saw the world’s spectacular kaleidoscope of colours in vivid detail for the first time. It was blinding. It was beautiful. Like the night was painted over with dazzling sun.
Exiting the washroom, you saw that Madara was still in the main bedroom with you, sitting on the edge of the bed. Your heart jumped. Izuna is here! And there’s no door! He looked thoughtful.
“Y/N, I have something else for you. Please accept it.” He held up something shiny that jingled. You gasped. The keys to the penthouse.
“You can use this condo whenever you want.” He looked around. “Change whatever you want too, make it yours. I’ve been arranging the paperwork to change the ownership to your name. You just have to sign when they’re ready. It’s yours.”
You were initially speechless. “I –Madara. This is way too much. I already told you no more of these extravagant gifts! I can’t take this.” It’s a penthouse. Downtown. Was Madara insane? This property was worth millions.
His dark eyes bore into you.
“If this is about my role in helping Izuna, stop. I was just one of many. It was my job. I’m not some angel or anything that pure if you see me that way. I’m often not even a good Samaritan.”
Madara’s eyes closed. He knew you would refuse him. He felt disturbingly vulnerable during these moments when he was forced to voice his unfathomable emotions, but he would push through for you. He needed you to understand. “What’s between us is no longer about Izuna.”
“I already have a home. I don’t need another place to live,” you continued.
“This place is much closer to your hospital and school than yours. The commute will be easier on you and you won’t be nearly as tired. I can arrange to have food ready and cleaning too. Let me take care of you. You can build another home with me.” He brushed your face with the back of his fingers and looked at you tenderly.
You stared back helplessly, tears rising to the surface again. But you wouldn’t let them fall this time. Why was he so good to you? Hugging him tightly, you buried your face in his muscled chest, his arms snaking around you to return the hold.
"I will accept the keys, but not the papers." Thank you for everything you do.
---------------
Several days later, you were ending your shift by giving your chemically paralyzed patient a bed bath so he was freshened up for the next nurse. Everything else was already done: extra bags of paralyzing agents and several other medication drips mixed, fluid balances, and documentation completed. The dressings were changed much earlier. After many transfusions and the bedside bronchoscopy, the blood gas values finally improved and he was more stable than in the morning.
Starting at the chest, you scrubbed with medicated wipes, ensuring you got between all the dips and folds on the body, letting them dry before you draped the body with the new gown. You made your way to the legs and did the same, then came back to the crotch with plain bath wipes.
Erk! You had to spend a lot of time scrubbing this man’s cheesy glans, lamenting how so many people even among healthcare workers didn’t know how to wash a dick properly. It gave foreskin a bad reputation that saddened you. You huffed, briefly wondering what Madara looked like in his birthday suit before banishing the thought instantly. It was fortunate you were still required to wear a face mask at work –no one who happened to walk in could see the evidence of your inopportune reverie.
With the shift over, you changed and headed to the pickup with Jasna at your side as you caught up.
“Y/N, I didn’t see you all day. Did you have a good shift?” she said.
“The guy was sick, but it was steady the whole day when I wasn’t on break. Manageable. No catastrophic workload where I had to worry if I might kill someone by accident. Yours?” You responded. It’s been weeks since you worked together, and your unit was such a huge ICU that even when you do, you might not be in each other’s vicinity or see each other.
“Wasn’t bad either, surprisingly. When I received report this morning, I was expecting much worse, but it was just a long series of small annoyances today. Are you still seeing Madara? Any new developments?” She lived vicariously through you.
You offered her a sheepish grin. “I think we’re officially dating now. Even went to his house recently for hot pot to celebrate the New Year and saw Izuna too.”
“Wow look at you! Dating Madara! How did he ask you?” Jasna wrapped an arm around your shoulders, eager to hear more, certain it must be an excellent story.
“Umm, it was a strange day when we were celebrating his birthday on Christmas Eve. Look, he’s here. I have to go now. Bye!” You weren’t going to divulge how Madara talked about seeing inside you, even if it was Jasna. Nope, no way. She would take the conversation in another direction. You slipped out of her grasp and rushed over to Madara.
“Hey wait! I’ll get it out of you eventually,” she snickered. “Have a great night Y/N.”
There he was waiting in the warmth of his car, arms crossed as he watched you in contemplation. Madara observed your spirited, carefree interaction with your colleague, who looked familiar to him. Must be another nurse. It was a stark contrast to your anxiety around him when you first started seeing each other. It had been upsetting when you were stressed from being with him and he didn’t know how to convey to you to relax. Although you remained periodically tense in his presence, he felt encouraged by your growing willingness to seek his touch and banter with him.
He stepped out of his car to open the door for you, nodding at this other nurse in greeting as she passed. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights, her head bobbed before she wished him goodnight and rushed off. You tittered to yourself at Jasna’s reaction to Madara. It was sweet of him to offer to pick you up, even if tonight’s restaurant was a close walk. He refused to let you freeze in this weather.
The short drive was pleasant. Madara inquired about your day, his hand comfortably resting on yours as you recalled to him several funny moments today while he chuckled quietly.
---------------
You caught yourself rambling during dinner and reminded yourself to slow down, even if Madara didn’t interrupt you. You were a grown ass woman with your own place and a job, but still Madara managed to make you feel like a starry-eyed teenager! Feeling silly, you asked him how he was. You were adequately self-aware to realize before today that you gushed at times in your attempts to fill the silence. But despite being acquainted with the major facts about Madara, you didn’t know nearly as many details about him after he shut you down the first time you inquired. It was difficult to convince Madara to speak about himself.
“Hn. Business as usual, although there is an upcoming conference that’ll span several weeks. I’ll be in Japan.” Madara stared pointedly at you to memorize your features as if he’d never see you again. “It’s hosted by the Senju family. They’re prolific builders of all sorts of property, maybe you’ve heard of Senju Hashirama?”
“Never heard of him. Is he famous?” You asked innocently.
Madara chuckled in delight, amused how outside so-called elite circles, regular people were quite unaware of the dealings between the upper echelons of society, even if the Senju family was almost like royalty in their field. The Senju weren’t the worst of them, but wherever big money was, the rich found a way to get themselves involved.
“You’re not missing much. He’s a buffoon.”
“Oh! It’s him!” You giggled, remembering Madara’s uncharacteristic ranting during a previous call following his heated day.
For the Uchiha, they were involved in a plethora of blade-related industries. Their luxury knives, weaponry, and cutting equipment sales were a minor source of income, however successful they were. The real money was from owning the mines where construction materials and quality ores for industrial metals came from and sourcing these vital materials to industries around the world. And knowing how to invest in these resources and other stocks.
“If it’s a property development conference, why will you be there?” You dabbed your lips with the napkin under Madara’s intense scrutiny.
He smiled at you. “Construction requires ample raw materials and cutting equipment, both of which we provide. There’ll be parts dedicated solely to research and innovation for those topics.”
You sighed in disappointment. Another few weeks without Madara. “It seems we spend more time apart than we see each other. I hope you have a successful conference.” You were unable to resist pouting.
The warmth that spread through him at your confession was unstoppable. He gave you a smug look. “It seems as if you’re already missing me, well before I’ve even left.”
“Of course I’ll miss you! I mean, I won’t! I mean… yes, oh, I don’t know!” You blabbed until you stopped yourself in dismay. “You’re riling me up on purpose!”
Look at him! Elbow to the table, squishing his cheek on his fist as he smirked at your expense! He thoroughly enjoyed causing your embarrassment in public!
Madara threw his head back and belly laughed in earnest, the smooth tone reverberating and shaking you to the core. He reached across the table to scoop up your fingertips in his hand. “I apologize Y/N for your distress, but that was much too good to pass up.” He grinned as his eyes twinkled.
“Hmph.” You maintained your air of mock indignance. “Keep it up and I won’t let you drop me off at home. Remind you you’re not being a gentleman tonight.”
“Oh? Here I thought you enjoyed the heated seats in my car.”
Darn, outed. “A little chill will help clear my head of any misplaced longing for you and your teasing ways. The subway is always an option.”
His eyes scanned your face, entertaining your words with the grin still plastered to his. “I can keep you comfortable though,” he purred. You shuddered, not missing the double meaning. Your eyes almost crossed as you gaped at him. Definitely not a gentleman tonight.
Quickly recovering, you rolled your eyes at him and asked, “Have you ever even taken the subway before?” You doubted this fancy man would enjoy the proximity of hundreds of strangers at any time of day.
“No.” Just as you thought, you smiled while shaking your head.
---------------
The bill came, after you and Madara ‘made up,’ not that there were hard feelings from the back and forth earlier. He had backed off and let your mortification die.
“Here.” You waved the server over. Madara’s hand shot out and grabbed your wrist.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting the bill?”
He frowned deeply at the prospect of you treating him for dinner. “What man allows that?” He took the receipt from the server.
"Lots of couples take turns. You are so traditional! Are you from the Stone Ages?!" You tried to snatch the small paper back, but Madara had longer arms and he held it from you.
Madara liked when you challenged him, but not on this. He wouldn’t allow this. He spoke before thinking.
"I wasn't aware this is how the sugar daddy dynamic worked." He stated flatly, distraught by your actions and sentiment, however well-intentioned, the strong desire to care for you overwhelming. He was also the one with greater means after all.
You stiffened. Sugar daddy. Right, that was how you met.
You implored him to at least let you buy your own share of dinner. You needed to.
“No. It is my duty to provide for you.”
---------------
His words hurt, even if you didn’t let on how much they affected you. You and Madara never acknowledged the fact you met on a sugar dating site. The development of your relationship seemed genuine and organic. Perhaps it was awkward to start, but it had grown into something warm and natural. At times he was difficult to read, but you knew this man was kind and caring behind his seemingly indifferent exterior. Being with Madara brought you greater joy than most things. It wasn’t like either of you felt the need to even assign a definitive label to what you had.
Madara’s words were a painful reminder of the imbalance in this relationship, even if he once mentioned you were equals and had been very good to you from the start. How could you be equals when you hailed from completely different upbringings and worlds?
The roads were icy, your breathing creating puffs of fog with every exhale before you settled in the car. Naturally, Madara was driving you home. He insisted, and you craved his company. He looked slightly tense, but didn’t seem he was aware of your brooding.
“I’d like to invite you to a formal party next weekend. It’s a gathering with another major metal-working company in the province.” He glanced at you briefly, once again bringing his hand to seek physical contact with yours as he completed a left turn. It was a high-end formal event, but in his mind, still considered a minor party without the biggest industrial players in the world. Madara thought you might be interested.
You were staring at your feet when he asked. Would you belong? You peered over at your man longingly, chest tightening. Your hand flipped around to clutch his properly.
“I will be there.”
~To be continued~
---------------
Notes:
This chapter 3 got long, so I cut it in two.
I’m of the group who thinks the S/O is initially more smitten than Madara, but he falls way harder. “Acts of Service” is his main love language, so he’s quite preoccupied with taking care of her. Madara doesn't do half-assed measures. It’s over for Madara, even if he hasn’t said the words yet. He’s hers 💖
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.
Read on AO3
Warnings: modern AU, “sugar daddy,” romance, alcohol consumption, eventual smut but smut is not the point, Madara x Nurse!Reader
What was life if not mundane? Until one day he barreled into your life and flipped it over. Nothing will ever be the same. You didn't belong to the same world, but the heart will yearn for what it wants.
-----------------------------------
The idea for this story (which will be part of a larger work) came from after an annoying shift at work when my friends and I were joking about what we were doing with our lives. This should be the most light-hearted part of the series I have in mind. Thinking of Madara as a sugar daddy was hot to me, so I needed to somehow get you to him. By no means am I encouraging anyone to become a sugar baby or glorifying these relationships with inherently unbalanced power dynamics in real life. And definitely don’t do anything potentially unsafe. DNI IF THIS THEME OFFENDS.
Inspiration was also drawn from the beautiful epic song "Star Sky," by the amazing group Two Steps from Hell. It is about two mirror souls reincarnating and finding each other through lifetimes, even if separated from age to age by time and death. The style of music renders the lyrics hard to elucidate, so you may need the lyrics separately on the side to make them out.
Word count: 4596
You were so pissed after this night shift, everything that could have gone wrong going wrong. It was like the stars tried to align and screw you over. At least it was over, until next time. Fire in your veins, you stomped through the locker room to change. Part of you wanted to scream, while the other wanted to cry. Perhaps doing both wouldn’t be inappropriate either, given the circumstances. You stopped your turbulent rampage, trying to calm yourself so you didn’t slam something.
“Y/N. Let’s go out. We deserve it after all that,” your beloved friend Jasna said.
“Are we day drinking now? Here I was thinking there are still some things we are above doing.”
“Buddy, I meant breakfast. You’re already skipping ahead to tonight.”
You were about to make some sort of excuse to escape any social obligations at this time, but the alternative of going back to your empty home to collapse and bawl your eyes out the moment the door closed, which you knew you were going to do, held equally little appeal. Your stomach growled at you in disapproval, reminding you of your neglect since early yesterday evening.
You sighed, “Fine. Let’s do it. We have to eat sometimes anyways.”
“Hehe! I knew you still had some reason in you after your earlier outbursts!”
----------
Your party of two sat down at your favourite breakfast diner and ordered. Suddenly you were bone tired now that you had a chance to sit. What were you even doing with your life? Day in and day out, the same thing, 'saving people.' Were you even doing that? It was so often just one hopeless case after the other, like keeping bodies ‘alive’ while they slowly flushed themselves down the drain until they finally croaked. Such was nursing. It was soul-crushing work at times. And so meaningless at others.
“—And they even doubled my assignment. ‘It’d be a good double,’ they said. The moment they say that, you know it’s over! I was sent to OR at the beginning of the shift with my first patient while my other guy kept trying to pull his lines out. Luckily he didn’t get to his dialysis line or his central line or it’d be an even bigger disaster!”
Jasna was right. It wasn’t a good double. There are still way worse assignments. Your train wreck of a patient died, and you and whatever help the unit could muster last night spent hours using every resource trying to resuscitate a body you knew was long gone. Your back was STIFF from the CPR.
The workload only ever got heavier with no relief in sight. Only the sense of comradery with your fellow coworkers, especially the best nurses in the world, kept you going. You trusted them to have your back when things spiraled downhill with your patients’ lives and even with your own, if you were ever to end up a patient. They were always the only ones who truly understood when you needed to rant to each other.
Jasna suddenly snorted at you when you made a disparaging comment about her last patient. “Y/N! Shush, don’t let the higher powers hear you!”
“Well fire me then! I DARE THEM!” It was true. The ‘higher powers’ were more desperate for nurses to work than they had nurses wanting to work. “What are we even doing with our lives? We only keep going back because we hate ourselves but we want to see our work friends. And to put some food on the table.”
“If they’d just pay us more instead of themselves, they wouldn’t have half the problems they have. But of course, we just work there and nothing ever makes sense with the administration.”
"What else could we do?” You exhaled in exasperation. “I’m already in school again for my Master’s, but it’s only making things worse. I can’t take as many shifts as I used to.”
“I guess the only option left is to marry rich, ha!"
You rolled your eyes. “Any more sensible suggestions?”
“It’s plenty sensible,” Jasna huffed. “Try a sugar dating site…sometimes a girl needs to eat.”
You got quiet, remembering the trying times of being a nursing student, when between the needs of studying, preparing for exams and assignments, the long hours of clinical placement, and a part-time job, making ends meet was an almost impossible challenge for those without a safety net. Jasna had none, and needed to live, obviously.
“I am too old to be a sugar baby."
"Stop saying that! 29 isn't even old. I'll be your age in a few years." She played at being indignant.
To be honest, Jasna’s situation then was not quite different from your current predicament. Your Master’s of Nursing program was even more expensive than her Bachelor’s. The scholarship covered most of the tuition, but you still had to live. Rent to pay, food, any number of other miscellaneous items. Hospitals wanted more Nurse Practitioners and other specialized nurses, but there was no financial assistance, not when they also needed more nurses to toil at the bedside. With your course workload, even going from full-time to part-time at your current job left you in a rut. Not enough time for school. Not enough time to work and garner wages. You were at an impasse. And so, so tired.
You had no more fire in you for tonight. You sighed, thinking back on when you used dating apps in your early adult days, swimming through countless messages spamming "Hi" or "Baby you're hot, let's fuck" to find one decent message. Clearly nothing came out of it. How disappointing and tedious it all was.
“You’re thinking about it. I can tell.” Jasna gave you a knowing look.
“Nah. As if I want to make more time for something like dating. Clearly, time is what I’m always short on.”
“You do whatever you need to, I’ll be here. You could always just start a profile to check it out.”
The two of you wrapped up your meal and said your goodbyes. Until the next time you worked together again.
You stepped into the shower when you got home, steaming water erasing the grime of the night. The hot water temporarily soothed your worries and eased the tension from your muscles. It felt so good to be out of those dirty scrubs. Finally relaxing, your mind wandered back to your conversation with Jasna. You could just make an account, she was right, and flip through a few profiles. It was the kind of low commitment you could adhere to for awhile. It felt like a lifetime ago since you’ve last been with a man in any capacity.
It will be the same, just expect nothing. If the bar of expectation was already on the ground, there was only ‘up’ to go, so you couldn’t be disappointed, right? And you could just ignore whatever unsavory messages that came your way.
----------
“Brother, you need to go out more. You look more and more like an old man day after day, always so serious and disapproving. Your wrinkles are going to start showing.” A handsome young man stepped into the opulent study, raven hair down, freed from the ties of its usual low ponytail.
“And you need to dedicate yourself less to my extracurriculars, and more to business now that you’re feeling well. There are contracts to be negotiated.” Sharp eyes turned to acknowledge the newcomer to the room. The man at the huge mahogany desk put down his fountainpen, elegant script dancing across the plush papers he worked on.
“I would if you had extracurriculars to speak of. As it is, I feel obligated to arrange activities for you, lest you rupture an aneurysm in your old age and stress.”
“Old age?” He was in his thirties.
Izuna grinned, knowing he was getting under Madara’s skin. And knowing equally well he could get away with things when it came to his stern brother, things that he wouldn’t let slip with others.
Madara was mildly irritated, but he’d play along, for now. Staring down his nose at his brother, he asked, “Hn. Then I’ll amuse you. What do you have planned for this old man which might alleviate his woes?”
“Don’t worry. I’ve always got your best interests at heart. We could set you up for a moonlit dinner date–“
“Out of the question. Why would I suffer the presence of some blathering fool? You should know I haven’t the time for frivolous activities such as—”
“—I even made you a dating profile on this website.”
“You did what?”
His brother, ever the cunning fox, grinned again as if he was feeling sheepish. “You’re now publicly an eligible bachelor looking for a lucky lady friend to spoil on a sugar daddy dating site. Would you like to know your username?”
“…” For once, Madara was at a loss for words. Out of all the ridiculous antics Izuna pulled over the years, never had he done anything on a public platform. They hailed from the Uchiha family for goodness sake. They had an image to maintain, even if not on principle, then at least for the unsullied reputation demanded in their business relationships.
Izuna was starting to sweat. Did he go too far? But this time, it wasn’t just a childish prank. “Look, I even found several excellent potential matches.” He pulled out his phone and booted the app to show Madara.
…It was you.
“Do you see something you like Madara-oniichan?” the brat was trying hard not to let the corners of his lips lift in mirth and failing miserably.
“…I think I should like to put you back in the hospital myself if you’d like to see your nurse so badly.” He glared furiously at his little brother, who was at times more trouble than he was worth. If he could kill with just a glance, Izuna would have combusted on multiple occasions already.
His mind jumped back to those months in the hospital long ago. In retrospect, he wished he got to know you more when he was visiting. But he was so overwhelmed by Izuna's state of injury, he was completely unavailable and nothing would have reached him at the time. Everything began with Izuna. Everything revolved around Izuna, his only remaining living member of family.
There had been a huge healthcare team involved in Izuna's recovery, and multiple units too, though they spent the longest in the ICU. After many months in the ICU, they made it to step-down, then transferred to the wards, and finally months of rehab. It’s been several years since then, and Izuna is finally looking as he did before the incident.
Throughout that time between healthcare facilities and units, Madara recalled countless smart, attractive nurses both young and older, professional despite the mistreatment by patients, families, the administration, and the system itself. You still stood out to him though. You were also pretty, but the way you carried yourself demonstrated you weren't even aware. You were all the more alluring for that.
Professional, competent, and kind. That was how he remembered you. He recalled when you eased him into a corner of the room as his brother died onscreen to explain what everyone was doing, gently reminding him that others in the room couldn’t hear important communication to each other when he screamed. You calmly explained why no one was shocking Izuna when there was no heartbeat, what medications were being given. There was a way of being firm in your demeanor without being disrespectful. You were so attractive to him. Too bad you were his brother's nurse and he wasn't in the headspace to pursue then.
“Just go for her! The worst that could happen is her rejecting your grouchy ass. What if some other lucky man snatches her up first?” Izuna started. "You see yourself? You've been alone for too long. I can't leave you all by yourself if something were to happen to me again."
Izuna had been drugged out of his mind to help control his pain, ventilation, and agitation. When eventually his sedation medications were weaned off and he woke up, he remembered how tender you were with him. Even the small details, where you saturated his wounds with saline before carefully peeling them back so the old dressings wouldn't rip against his healing wound beds. How you so sincerely apologized for each harder tug and each of his winces, as if you were the one hurting.
He was high as a kite, but some things he still remembered. Like how his brother would sometimes watch you as you worked when Izuna himself was a bit more lucid so Madara would be worrying less about him. No one else would have noticed these minute changes in his brother's behaviour, but they didn't escape him.
“You’re lucky brother. It’s this Saturday at 1900.” He pulled Madara out of his reverie.
“Now what? What’s this Saturday?”
“Your date of course. I already contacted her and she agreed to see you.”
A fountainpen flew with speed and embedded itself in a thick wooden door as it slammed shut and a cackling laughter disappeared into the distance.
----------
HOLY SHIT. It's HIM. You knew his name. You knew his face. It was Uchiha Madara, older brother to Izuna.
Every member of staff remembered these two. Izuna was a trauma patient transferred from another hospital for more advanced support after the trauma surgeons were finished with him. The extent of injuries was startling. Izuna was on ECMO to bypass and support his non-functional heart. He was also on every other mode of life support: maxed out on multiple pressors, continuous dialysis, massive transfusions... His survival was a miracle.
You remembered how Madara would come day after day to sit quietly by Izuna's side, sometimes bringing his work. He was polite to the staff despite how gravely ill his brother was, and that by itself already earned him a place in your memory. The only time you recalled an outburst from Madara was the first time Izuna coded and his primary nurse and others successfully brought Izuna back to life while you talked to Madara. Over the course of months, everyone on the staff agreed in the most objective way that these brothers were very fine male specimens.
You were anxious and unsure, but of course you agreed to see him at his invitation.
----------
Madara ambled through his large closet, stocked from floor-to-ceiling with enough finery to dress a king. He pondered several outfits, weighing each option against another. A suit and tie? Much too formal. A nice pair of jeans? He couldn’t run the risk of appearing sloppy. A dress shirt? Possibly. He picked up a few other options to match when he heard a click behind him. The pest was back.
“I know how to dress for a woman. I don’t need your help.”
“Relax. I’m only here to see how you’re doing.” Izuna was enjoying himself. It wasn’t every day one got to see Madara mull over his appearance as he did now.
“Did you need to use such a lame pickup line?”
“It worked! It was perfectly fitting. I thought it was cute.” Izuna picked up a brush and ran it through his brother’s locks, as he used to do when they were younger. With just the two of them left in their family, they had no one else but each other. They would take care of each other.
Madara relaxed back into the strokes, even if his mane was already perfectly brushed through and detangled. “It was bordering the boundaries of good taste.”
“But it applied for both of us. She can’t even accuse of me pretending to be you. Can you at least commend me for my genius? And why are you still here? Don’t you need to pick her up?”
“You were masquerading as me. Milady insisted on meeting directly at the restaurant.”
“You didn’t manage to convince her of otherwise? She’s already playing hard to get? Fantastic. Good luck with your courtship!” Izuna performed an exaggerated, swooshing bow with a toothy smile. He wondered if you might eat his softie of a brother alive if he didn’t accidentally scare you away first. It’d be funny, but he hoped you’d be brave enough to endure cracking through his stubborn outer shell and too kind to make his beloved brother suffer too much.
----------
Just on time! You stepped out of your Uber, treading carefully down the steps in kitten heels to ensure the first thing you did wasn’t to face plant in front of your date. You let the hostess know of the reservation Madara made and followed her to a more private section of the lavish restaurant.
Upon making another turn, you didn’t need to be led anymore. It was quieter, not due to the total lack of other people, but because of him. His presence took up the whole room, like it dragged out all the air and it left you breathless.
He was handsome and well-dressed as always. Faintly patterned navy blue dress shirt fitting snugly, outlining the definition in his arms and chest, dark trousers well-tailored, brown dress shoes tying his look together. He was the picture of elegance. Long fingers lifted a glass of wine to his lips and he sipped as he suddenly turned his gaze towards you. Your mouth ran dry as his eyes roved over your body, carefully taking you in.
He wasn’t even trying to hide it! You were at once extremely self-conscious from the intense scrutiny. Does he like what he sees? You continued your stride towards your destiny, even as a million insecurities bloomed within.
Madara couldn’t look away. His eyes traced your form-fitting black dress, following the lines of your bare legs up to your hips and arms, stopping at a graceful neckline to briefly dip back down to stare at the swell of your breasts. His mouth watered into his glass and he was aware he was being vulgar. He put his wine down before he could drop it and ripped his stare towards your face.
You were dazzling.
He took in your pink face and delicate features enhanced by the lightest touch of makeup. He gave a small genuine smile and pushed out of the cushioned chair.
“Y/N. It’s good to see you again. Thank you for coming.”
“Yes thank you for the invitation. I hope you weren’t waiting long.” What were you supposed to do now? How do you date again? He’s a businessman and talks to important people, important people shake hands, right?
You extend your hand towards him in greeting and add, “It’s good to see you again too.”
Madara chuckled and took your hand in his paw, brushing the backs of your fingers with his thumb before bringing your hand up and pressing his lips to the back.
“No, not long at all. I arrived shortly before you did,” he lied.
Lips parting in shock, you froze. This was not the reception you expected! The useless software in your brain ground to a halt, leaving you at a loss for what to do. Seeing your pause, he chuckled deeply again, the sound going straight to warming your face further, and he pulled out the chair for you, already the perfect gentleman. “I apologize if I was too forward.”
You were already flustered and the date had just begun. You gulped and almost uttered a short prayer to yourself to wish for strength. “Umm, no, we’re okay.” You quickly sat down, as if afraid you might fall over after all and looked away to admire the decor. There were thick silver curtains draped intermittently along the walls, chandeliers setting the mood from high ceilings, everything highlighting the centerpiece of the room, the baby grand piano. It was a gorgeous establishment.
He went around the other chair to present you with a masterfully crafted bouquet of fresh, exotic florals. “This is for you.”
When was the last time you received flowers? You were aware of this date originating from a sugar daddy/baby dynamic and Madara was just playing the part, but you still couldn’t help being slightly flattered. “Thank you. They are beautiful.” You accepted the gift and took a sniff of a particularly large bloom and smiled at Madara.
“Good evening ma’am. How are you? My name is Carlos and I’ll be your server tonight. Could I start you off with something to drink?”
“Yes,” you answered a bit too fast and eagerly. Heavens knew you needed something to give you liquid courage. The words barely registered as you looked over the drink menu before ordering the first thing that sounded good. Carlos paused at your request, but ultimately repeated your order before disappearing. Madara was looking at you thoughtfully.
“How have you been?” You asked him.
“It’s more of the usual business. Deals to negotiate, meetings, paperwork. It’s rather unexciting to talk about me. How have you been these past years?” Madara’s reply was brief, curt. He had his chin on his hand, resting his elbow on the table as he scowled with eyebrows furrowed.
Thinking of the Senju and how Tobirama tried to press him in negotiations only this morning left a foul taste in his mouth. Izuna was the one who was the wordsmith and would never lose to a Senju when it came to creating contracts. But Izuna was only recently back in the game and his priorities were backwards. The first thing he did was set Madara up on a date instead of dealing with Tobirama. No matter. With Izuna by his side again, things will take a turn for the better. The date.
He looked up to see you quiet and staring back at him with wide eyes. Shit. He forced his face into a more neutral expression.
“Here is the white wine you ordered ma’am. It is a French wine from the region of Alsace. It starts with notes of orange blossom and honeyed orchard fruits before building into a richer flavour on the palate. It is a delight.”
You eyed Madara’s glass, then looked over the table and groaned. Madara was already drinking wine. And there was already a bottle of opened wine at your table. Great. Now he thinks I’m a bumbling idiot and a drunkard.
“We could use a second bottle at our table, right? I could drink that,” you deadpanned and grabbed your glass, swirling it quickly before tipping it back. “Delicious.” You take hold of the dinner menu to start studying it, still too flustered to be ready to try talking to Madara again. Madara kept a straight face even if he was crestfallen at your anxiety.
This wasn’t going well anymore. Madara cursed himself. He thought they started off alright, but now? He was used to people being nervous in his presence, but he didn’t want you to be so stressed around him. You looked to him like you wanted to run or melt into the scenery. It didn't feel right. He tried to open himself up and appear softer. He uncrossed his arms.
“Don’t worry about the wine, Y/N.”
Should you not? He looked so disapproving and judgmental. You knew some wine was nothing to a man of Madara’s status, but still, you didn’t want to keep embarrassing yourself. You licked your lips when his eyes stayed focused on you.
“I won’t. I could drink that, as I said.” You resisted the urge to face palm yourself, disbelieving of how you just told a man you’re seeing for the first time in years you drink bottles of wine by yourself. Guess who isn’t getting a follow-up date?
He chuckled again deeply in his chest and you wanted to die at how he kept laughing at you. “Let’s get something to eat first,” he said. The two of you resumed your study of the dinner menus and placed your orders.
Madara watched you again, unhappy at your squirming under his gaze.
“It’s been a long time. How have you been, Y/N?” Hopefully talking about yourself, a more familiar topic, would help ease your nerves. He read that in a psychology book long ago.
“You know, still working at the same hospital. Same annoying problems. I went part-time recently since starting my Master’s.” You hoped he didn’t notice your use of the word “annoying.” It wasn’t like you were calling his brother, a former patient, an “annoying problem.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, to make more time for school. I think I want to leave the bedside and get more specialized so I can either teach or become an NP instead.”
He was happy for you. He’d always respected those who had goals and tried to make more of themselves in life. He was genuinely interested in what you had planned for yourself. He sat back in his seat and asked, “That is fantastic news. How do you like your program so far?”
You and Madara continued to make pleasant conversation. Madara was incredibly interested in what you’ve been up to the past years, but he tried not to let his curiosity sound like an interrogation. He was relieved as you appeared increasingly relaxed as dinner went on.
As the meal came to an end, you declined dessert, stating you were already full. Madara went to get the bill, even if you resisted, stating you will pay for yourself. He dissuaded you of such a notion before completing the transaction, leaving you mildly distraught.
“Come. I will bring you home.” Madara smiled warmly at you and offered his arm, observing as you stepped gingerly down the stairs outside the venue while using him as support, ensuring you wouldn’t trip. He opened the door on your side to his fancy car and closed it after you.
You were both quiet in his car, you fidgeting with the hem of your dress and not looking at him, returning to your previously skittish state. Madara was hyperaware of your presence. You really weren't aware of the effect you had on men around you. Even during dinner, multiple men looked your way to bask in your beauty and grace. While he was also taken in by you, all of you and not just your appearance, he wasn’t anxious himself. He wished you wouldn’t be nervous around him –you had nothing to worry about when you were with him.
He pulled up to the drop-off at your condo.
“Thank you for tonight. I haven’t had such a pleasant time in a long while.” His time was filled with either work, managing Izuna, or merely by himself in peaceful tranquility. Madara was sincere.
“Thank you again for inviting me. You were wonderful.” He really was. Despite your blunders, Madara had been kind the entire night.
You glanced up at him, unsure again, but he looked so dashing you couldn’t help it. Would he let you?
You shyly leaned over towards him and Madara immediately took the invitation. His face was mere inches from yours, when suddenly you chickened out and pecked him on the cheek instead. You wished him goodnight and a safe drive home and scampered away, screaming at yourself and how lame you were as you closed the door to your condo.
Madara stared after you, fingers on his cheek where you were moments ago, at first stunned, then beaming in delight.
~To be continued~
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Notes:
I tried to capture the discomfort a normal person would feel when first getting to know Madara. He's seriously intimidating! I’d be nervous too if Madara suddenly dropped into my life, even if he wasn’t trying to kill me and was just being a normal guy. Such is Madara’s presence. Way too intense. I also tried to convey how Madara appears differently in front of loved ones like Izuna and a relative stranger, even if he’s already romantically interested. He really doesn’t know how to express himself well, but he tried. He ended up kind of cute in this one.
By the way, the Reader in this story isn’t me. I’m an ICU nurse in real life, so there are aspects to the character’s thoughts that may resemble mine, particularly with regard to the healthcare system. The frustration and anger there is real, given the current healthcare climate. I sincerely hope I didn’t turn anyone away with my ranting. The Reader is more an amalgamation of different real-life nurses in terms of personality, quirks, and life circumstances which hopefully still comes across as somewhat relatable.
It’s much more realistic for a Registered Nurse who needs extra $ to take a gig with a private nursing company than to go looking for a sugar daddy haha, but I wanted us to meet Madara.
Izuna should have died from his injuries due to cardiac arrest/sepsis/multi-organ failure and be missing parts of his limbs from the epinephrine (one of the pressors that would have been used), but this is fiction and I want good things for him and Madara. So Izuna lives. Come on, as if Madara would find himself on a sugar dating site of his own accord. Of course Izuna was involved.
P.S. This is my first time writing a real fanfiction with a plot in over a decade. I guess Madara inspires me. I found this lighter tone a bit hard to write. Please let me know what you think!