#Tobiramas footsteps

[moldy-flowers]

Sakura and her comically oversized axes

[epitome-of-an-openbook]

So the thing about Mdtb fanon that really drives me crazy (/pos) is that in most Founder's Era fanon (or at least in most of what I've read), Madara's 3 other brothers some variation of older than him (sometimes all of them sometimes just one of them, point is he's rarely the eldest). And so, particularly in the ones where all three are older than him, the dynamic is literally An Elder Brother Whose Circumstances Have Forced Him to Become the Youngest Brother (Tobirama the second son of four) / A Younger Brother Whose Circumstances Have Forced Him to Become the Eldest Brother (Madara the second to last son of five).

Imagine you are a child and your whole identity revolves around your siblings, you and your brother are the eldest brothers, your job is to take care of the younger ones, only now they are gone and you are now the youngest. That is Tobirama's lot.

Imagine you are a child and your whole identity revolves around your siblings, you and your brother are the youngest brothers, the babies, you don't have a job but you doggedly follow your elder brothers' footsteps because they are who you look up to most, only now they are gone and you are now the eldest. That is Madara's lot.

Now imagine, a boy who was supposed to be a caretaker but had that ripped from him grows up and falls in love with a man who was once a boy that was supposed to be taken care of.

It all makes me feel very much:

[thedarks1de]

Little spy

Tobirama x !uchiha reader

Do not read this if you are under 18 years old.

Ignore the mistakes. I'm not a native English speaker.

Warnings: DARK CONTENT; rape; sex against one's will; gang rape; all characters are adults; feud between clans; spy; sneaky Tobirama; bad ending.

It wasn't easy to infiltrate the Senju clan's territory, but you succeeded. By hiding your chakra and pretending to be an ordinary person in need of help, you managed to infiltrate the enemy's hideout. You needed to steal one scroll that contained important information. You didn't know what was in the scroll or why it was so important, but since Madara-sama had entrusted it to you, you had to deal with it without question.

You didn't say your name, you made up another. You made up a story about your house being attacked and destroyed by bandits, but you escaped. They let you into their territory and gave you a roof over your head, but they were still suspicious.

Tobirama Senju was known for his vigilance and caution. The man had been watching you since you first arrived here. And you knew that the scroll you needed was kept in his house. That's why you had to be so careful. You tried to be as inconspicuous as possible, so as not to attract unwanted attention.

You knew your disguise had to be perfect, but even with all your efforts, you couldn't overcome the feeling that Tobirama was reading your every thought. All his attention was on you, his cold gaze penetrating your soul as if he were reading you like an open book. You began to feel nervous, realizing that Tobirama was slowly revealing your true nature. You couldn't hide your chakra concentration for too long, so you had to finish this task as soon as possible and get out of here before you were revealed, or all would be lost.

Tobirama often attended clan council meetings, where major decisions and plans were discussed. You spent days studying the schedules of those meetings to figure out exactly when to slip into his house and find the scroll. Finally, you found the right time to accomplish your task.

You were willing to risk everything to complete your mission. Quietly and carefully, you entered his domain, fearing every rustle and creaking. It was quite quiet, only the faint whistle of the wind could be heard from the open window. Tobirama's house looked modest but organized. With hopeful anticipation, you began to look through the documents, books, and other scrolls. You froze for a moment when you heard a sound in the other room. Your heartbeat accelerated, and you began to listen to every rustle.

Thinking that it was only your imagination, you continued looking for the right thing, not paying attention to anything. Eventually you found what you needed and quickly left the house. You managed to slip out of the camp unnoticed.Rejoicing in your victory, you quickly ran through the forest, out of breath, when suddenly a kunai with an explosive seal flew in front of you and exploded, throwing you a few meters away. You hit a tree and whimpered in pain.

Suddenly, there was a rustle nearby that sent shivers down your spine. You heard footsteps coming toward you. There was tension in the air, and your heart was beating as fast as if it wanted to jump out of your chest.

It took you a moment to realize that Tobirama himself was standing in front of you. You tried to get up, but pain shot through your body and you sank to the ground. Your eyes darted around, trying to find a way out of the situation. Meanwhile, Senju came closer and closer, his cold gaze piercing you like sharp blades.

«Did you really think you could sneak into my house and get away undetected, little spy?» — Tobirama asked sarcastically. The sound of his voice penetrated your ears, making you tense up even more.

«You were sorely mistaken to think you could fool me. You didn't hide your chakra well, you damn Uchiha». — he whispered.

Tobirama had no trouble taking the scroll from you. He gloated that he knew about your spy mission and had been watching you for a long time. Now it was the end of the road for you.

You fucked the hell up.You didn't understand how he got here. You saw him enter the council chamber with the rest of his clan, and you were sure he wouldn't leave for at least the next hour. You had it all figured out, he wasn't supposed to be here, but...

«You're thinking about the fact that I should have been at the council right now, aren't you?» — he asked, as if he'd read your mind. You remained silent, glaring angrily at him, and then he continued. «Actually, you're not wrong. I'm actually there at the moment».

«What?» — You finally raised your voice, staring at Tobirama in bewilderment. What he was talking about, you didn't understand. How could he be both here and there at the same time?

Senju grinned before making a couple of hand motions, folding the seal. White smoke appeared next to him, which soon dissipated, and now there was not just one Tobirama standing in front of you, but three at once. Your eyes widened in surprise. This was the first time you had seen this technique.

«Shadow Cloning Technique,» — he said, looking at his clones. «A personal development of mine. And I haven't used it in combat yet».

You frowned, expecting him to do something. Is he going to attack you? You were annoyed that you could do absolutely nothing to help yourself in this situation. And what's the point of fighting? You failed the mission anyway.

«Are you going to kill me, or are we going to keep talking like this?» — You asked. You wanted to sound confident, not to show your weakness in front of him, but your voice shook anyway.

Senju pulled out his katana and aimed the point at your throat. You realized now that your life depended on his decision. Death seemed more like deliverance than punishment, and you were willing to accept it to avoid further humiliation. But instead of delivering the fatal blow, Tobirama grinningly moved closer to you, knelt down so he could see your face, and whispered.

«I can find another punishment for a pathetic spy like you».

Your heart sank with fear, your breathing quickened, and goosebumps dined across your body. Tobirama tied your hands behind your back, giving you no chance to resist. Real panic gripped you as he reached for the waistband of your kimono and untied it.

«Hey, what the hell are you doing?!» — you exclaimed indignantly, your face reddening with shame and anger. The kimono crept down, exposing your shoulders and breasts. Senju started pawing at your breasts, as if he was evaluating them.

«Stop it! Don't you dare touch me, you filthy Senju...»

Tobirama ignored your insults as he continued to explore your body with his hands, as if it were just the object of his next experiment.

You tried to move away from him, but his strong arms held you in place. His smirk only made you more anxious, and you became fully aware of the situation you were in.

Tobirama spread your legs in one swift movement. His gaze was fixed on your clothed cunt. You tried to close your legs, but he held them firmly with one hand while he used the other to remove your panties. He abruptly flipped you over onto your stomach, putting you on all fours, and pressed himself against you, his cock resting against your ass.

«Did you really think you could get away from me with impunity after sneaking into our camp like a rat?» — He whispered in your ear, causing you to shiver. Senju had already pulled his cock out of his pants and was rubbing it against your pussy.

«No, no! You better kill me, you bastard!» — you screamed, trying to get out from under him.

You didn't want to show your weakness, but from your hopelessness you had already started to cry. Tears rolled down your cheeks, and seeing them, Tobirama only grinned. He wanted to stuff you with his cock so that you would cry harder and realize your mistake of not getting involved with Senju. He would fill you with his cum and send you back to your clan, humiliated and used by the enemy. The perfect punishment for you.

«Bastard! Damn bastard, how dare you...» — You continued to resist.

«Hey, shut her up,» — Tobirama turned to his clone.

Two of his clones stood in front of you. One of the bottoms pulled out his cock, holding it in his hand, and walked over to you. He took you by the chin and forced you to look at him.

«Open your mouth,» — the clone ordered you. You shook your head negatively, and then he forcefully pulled your lips apart and pushed his cock down your throat.

He took you by the hair and began to move up and down on his cock.

The real Tobirama pressed the head of his cock against your cunt and pushed inside without much preparation. You grunted in pain, choking on the clone's cock. He immediately started moving inside you, causing you more pain and discomfort.

His pace was fast, and you couldn't breathe properly. Tobirama held you by the hips, sinful moans escaping from his throat. He fucked you like he hadn't seen a woman in years.

The clone's cock began to throb in your mouth, and you realized that he was about to cum and wanted to pull away from him, but he pressed your head against his groin and cummed down your throat, then with a pop he vanished, leaving behind only smoke. But no sooner had you relaxed than another clone took his place, and he also put his cock in your mouth. You started to move your head yourself, not wanting the clone to yank your hair, causing more discomfort. You squeezed your eyes shut, moving your head up and down on his cock as he moaned in pleasure.

Tobirama continued to move inside you with inexorable force. You felt as if it would never end, and by sheer force of will you held back your screams and sobs.

Approximately ten minutes passed when this clone, too, cummed and vaporized. Finally, the real Tobirama reached his limit. He came out of your exhausted cunt and cum on your back. Wiping his cock on your kimono, he slipped it back into his pants, and got up from his seat.

You collapsed to the ground without strength. Your gaze was blank, hot tears running down your cheeks.

«I'll see you again, little spy,» — he said before he walked away, giving you one last scornful look.

In pain and humiliation, you tried to cope with the consequences of this cruel punishment. You had lost everything: your pride, dignity, and willpower. You had a great hatred for the Senju clan, and especially for Tobirama. You will take revenge on him someday. You will. But right now, you need to think about getting to your clan.

«What am I going to tell Madara...» — you thought as you walked through the dark forest. You didn't know how you would explain it to him. You failed his mission, it would make him very angry.

@naoyagasm

[inwiste]

saw a post about hashirama potentially having ocular albinism based on his first appearance having light eyes like tobirama... i got carried away

“You overdid yourself again.” 

He anticipates the touch before it arrives. Tobirama’s fingers are cool where they find his temples, fanning out to rest gently on the crown of his head. His eyes remain shut, body relaxing of its own accord. 

“You need to wear the glasses, anija.” There’s a sharp edge to Tobirama’s tone, clear dichotomy to his brother’s careful maneuvering, to the way Hashirama’s head settles in his lap. To the fingers that come to his head once more, working in small circles. “At least in the compound. The mokuton can compensate for a lot, but it can’t help you read.”

They’ve had this conversation a thousand times. He’ll learn, eventually. He’ll try to, at least.

“You could always read the reports to me,” he murmurs. The throbbing ache rattles his skull. His jaw is still locked up, mouth hardly moving. His tongue sticks in his mouth, dry as it is. He can’t remember where his tea went. He knows there was tea—the taste has withered on his tongue but he can still catch a trace of it when he swallows, pain pulsing in time with the contraction. “You’re concise. Know what’s important and what isn’t.” 

Tobirama’s hands drift downwards, pulling him up a fraction before taking the base of his skull into steady hands, pressing pads of fingers into the nape of his neck. 

“I have my own work to do.” It’s not an outright refusal. “I don’t enjoy wearing them either, but I make the concession regardless to minimize situations like these, anija.”

They don’t go away entirely, though. The brain is too complex, chakra pathways too delicate to risk the potential damage that could arise from trying to alleviate the pain. They must live with the days that must be spent in the dark, where his brother can hardly rise on hands and knees before retching, where food and water are a poison to Hashirama’s stomach. It’s hardly behavior fitting of a clan head and clan heir, but things progressed beneath his father’s leadership. The work still got done. Their people were still kept safe.

Hashirama opens his eyes for a brief moment, wincing at the dull, stabbing pain that infects his eyes and spreads out to the sockets. His brother’s face is blurry even from the short distance spanning between them, tattoos standing sharp against pale skin. Closes them just as quick.

The clench of his jaw lessens a fraction, stiff muscles uncoiling. He sighs heavily when Tobirama’s thumbs push firmly against the base of his skull. His breathing deepens. Time slips past him, mind drifting into a twilight zone. He can feel his brother’s hands still rubbing circles into his head, throbbing roots slowly being pulled from his skull. 

“You didn’t have to do this,” he slurs sleepily, tongue grown heavy in his mouth. He doesn’t move, though. He’s resting fully against Tobirama now, into the embrace that holds his head so slightly aloft. “I would have gone to the healers if it got any worse.” 

His brother huffs, chakra taking on an indignant tone. A smile finds his lips. He’s never been able to lie to his brother. Not successfully, at least. 

“If only such a thing were true,” Tobirama says. “Someone has to make sure you don’t end up bedridden. I should leave you to the mercy of Izumi the next time this happens.” 

He won’t, they both know. Such an admission will never slip past his brother’s tongue. Such truths are laid bare between them regardless. 

Perhaps once he would have felt guilty for demanding so much of his brother’s time. The mokuton is enough on the battlefield. It’s enough for traversing the pathways of the compound, it’s enough for the floor of their home. The earth is forgiving. Papers are not. 

Something still sticks in his throat when Tobirama pulls free entirely, dragging him from his reverie. He listens to Tobirama pull the shutters closed. To the soft footsteps that bring him close once more, fabric rustling as he sinks to his knees.

“You should rest, anija.” Tobirama’s voice is soft. The ache has lessened to a dull throb. Exhaustion clings to him, even though there are several hours still standing between them and sunset. 

Knuckles brush his cheek before he feels Tobirama’s hand settle against his forehead. His hand has chilled further, free hand stroking his cheek as Hashirama sighs. 

He grabs Tobirama’s hand as it parts from his skin, thumb tracing the raised flesh on the knuckle of his index finger. A particularly bad scrape during a spar had split the skin. They were children at the time but the scar has remained strong on his skin. 

“Stay until I fall asleep?” 

There is no childish tilt to his tone but he feels the trepidation regardless. Feels the memories of a ten year old boy sink into his skin. Of smaller hands rubbing relief into his skull, soothing cyclical pain. It had become clockwork at a point, he remembers. Before he had gained better control of the mokuton. Before he was able to lessen the burden on failing eyes. He feels them well up in his throat, already beginning to fester on his tongue as he waits for an answer beyond the stiffening of Tobirama’s body behind his head. 

He smiles at the huff that answers him—a small thing. Little more than the lifting of the corners of his lips.

“Where else would I go?”

[grimnisdottir]

Inspired by the many arranged marriages to seal a treaty AU's, and thought, well… no, not quite. Anyway enjoy my twist. ~~~~~~~~~~~

Madara is entirely unsure why a Hatake is sitting at the table, but the way the White Demon seems to relax minutely holds his attention over the tense atmosphere. His eyes seem relaxed, so Madara can see white lashes spread like snowfall over blood. See how he gently leans towards the older man as though awaiting something. If this was to be his Wife, then Madara can at least admit that the Senju is pretty to look at.

Madara flicks his attention to Hashirama and tries desperately not to let a bark of laughter out. Hashirama looks vaguely pale for a Clan Head, and the dark circles under his eyes only seem to pop out more. His old friend looks- Madara sobers. Now was not the time. 

Today they had something important to discuss in the treaty, and the interloper would only prolong the inevitable. 

“Hatake-san, why are you here?” Madara addresses the man directly, annoyance threading into his tone. 

The redhead, and wasn’t that a marvel, tilts his head to the left. If it hadn’t been for the Hatake mon, golden eyes that reminded him of wolves, and the freezing lightning-touched chakra lazily rolling about, Madara would have assumed another clan entirely. 

The Hatake smiles, eyes crinkling in amusement. “Uchiha-sama,” the man addresses him, leaning back and crossing his fingers on the table. It has Madara bristling at the arrogance. "I am here because the Senju can't honor the terms of one important treaty line." 

Madara stiffens along with his brother beside him. Excuse me? 

Mushrooms sprout onto the table as Hashirama groans, capturing Madara's attention faster than a Kunai can strike. "What is the meaning of this Senju-sama?" Madara says through his teeth. 

"Uchiha-sama," The Hatake smoothly interrupts. It's lazy and unbothered by the insult he has given. Golden eyes glitter, and Madara wants to stab. "You react too soon. Tobirama Senju is not just Heir to the Senju. He is also Mine."

What.

Madara blinks. A strangled noise comes from Izuna and what sounds like a choke from Hikaku. He had no idea the Hatake had switched hands. The last he had known, it was still Satoshi Hatake. A devastating man who Madara swears his honored father sneaks out with to go get drinks when the wolves pass by. Though the knowledge they had been able to scrape up about his children was scarce. Only two. One passed, so this must be the youngest who follows in his father's footsteps, Katsuro Hatake.

"I apologize, Hatake-sama. I was unaware that the Hatake had a new Clan Head," Madara says but side eyes a further wilting Hashirama. 

"Forgiven and forgotten. We like to use knowledge and misdirection, especially with your Heir and his talents, Uchiha-sama," Katsuro waves off their apology and gently touches Tobirama's hand. "I named Tobirama my Heir, as agreed upon by the terms made between our clans," Madara can hear the ‘predates yours’ that goes unsaid, "that should I not have children, my sister's eldest child was to be my Heir."

"So, to get to the point, Uchiha-sama. The Senju can not offer you Tobirama's hand in marriage to seal this treaty." The room explodes into noises of outrage but Madara closes his eyes. He should have known where the direction was going. Dealing with Hashirama had been easy. Although the marriage wasn’t ideal - he hadn’t wanted to, but Izuna would have slit the Demon's throat if given a chance, their animosity too strong -  the Elders had demanded it. Made it a stipulation, and the Senju agreed. 

No, Hashirama did. 

Looking closer at the duo, he can spot a pleased glint in their eyes. Sending his senses out, Madara is surprised the soothing cool of Tobirama’s chakra is curling around him, like a cat trying to find the best spot in the sun. It jumps back if noticed, pulling behind the sharp icy chakra of the Uncle. Not that he would be able to tell across the Senju’s face. 

As much as Madara disagrees, he has already resigned his fate to be tied to Tobirama for the sake of peace. “So, what do you suggest?” 

Katsuro finally offers a smile, near smug and self-satisfied. “Hatake hearts need to be won, Uchiha-sama. The candidate in question will have the chance to earn it, as Tobirama will endeavor to earn theirs. If it fails, no harm, no foul, and the treaty continues. We Hatake do not enter into loveless marriages, nor do the Uchiha if I recall. If this is unacceptable as a term, then you may choose someone else to marry.”

Madara can't help but feel like he's stepping into a trap, but too late to stop it. Already the terms have been set, and the Elders will likely agree. The burn of anger alights a fire in him. "Are you implying I cannot earn my Wife's heart?" Madara asks, voice tight and controlled. 

A hand wave, dismissive in nature, is the only response that gives anything away. "If that's the way you choose to take my terms, then do so Uchiha-sama. But they will not change. My Heir is precious and an incredible shinobi. Anything less than loved is a travesty.”

“Fine.” Madara snaps, slashing an arm through the air. “I accept those terms.”

“Nii-San,” Izuna whines lowly, and Madara doesn’t miss how Izuna puts his head in his hands, muttering so low he can’t hear. 

“I’m pleased to hear that!” Hashirama gains life, clapping his hands together, which only makes flowers grow on the table around him. 

In one smooth movement, the Hatake Head stands and gently runs his fingers through silver-white hair. The way it parts under fingers has Madara wondering what it would feel like if it was his hand instead. Was it soft? As the loveliest carmine eyes meet his, Tobirama tilts his head, which shows off a column of pale throat and… was that more red lines?  A teasing tilt to plush lips captures his attention before the seductive song suddenly ends, and Tobirama looks like he normally does. But the image has been seared into his head. Whatever game Tobirama Senju plays, Madara wants to see it through even though he feels much like a mouse would before a cat.

Madara grins, full of teeth and excitement. Tobirama Senju might be a good dance partner, after all.

[matchstixx]

The People We Think We Know

Chapter 5

Pairing: Tobirama x fem!Reader

WC: 2,035

CW: Minor off screen death

Author's Note at the end

Read on Ao3

[Series Master List]

<- Prev Chapter | Next Chapter ->

And then there were three.

Togakushi died sometime in the middle of the night about three months after the raid. The medical staff were already surprised that he had held out for so long that the whole ordeal felt more like an inevitability than hope.

By habit, you still make far too many sweets for too few mouths when you help Yoko cook. The two of you will stare down at the pan with a suffocating pause, before she’ll collect up half of them and tell you to take it to the neighbors.

During this time, it becomes your job to take meals to Madara’s room as he refuses to come out anymore. He opens the door to receive the dishes most of the time and on the days he doesn’t, you don’t push the matter and leave the tray right outside.

It’s on one such delivery of Madara’s dinner where you know that the story has begun. It’s the uncharacteristic thud from the room that takes you off guard. Concerned–and truthfully more curious than anything–you slid open the door just a bit to peer into the room.

Madara has halfway climbed through the window, one of his feet caught on the sill and the other standing on tiptoes while trying to free it. He spits a few curses as you stare at the scene blankly. You take note of his dirty clothes, small scrapes and bruises on his face and hands an angry red. He finally wrenches his foot free, nearly falling over, as he turns around and brushes off his mantle. The boy freezes when he sees you in the doorway. You tilt your head some at him, idly thinking of how the action makes him look like a startled cat.

“WHAT THE HELL?!”

You wince a bit at the screech, face pulled into a grimace of mocking disdain. “What a delayed reaction. Why were you sneaking in–”

Madara practically lunges at you, shushing you with an aggressive hiss. You scowl as you feel the tea cup on the tray tip over as he drags you into the room and slams the door shut.

“Don’t talk so loud, someone will hear,” he says, brows pulled down and eyes flickering as he seems to listen for any approaching footsteps.

“Then maybe you should have done a better job climbing through that window,” you snip back, expression blank but tone sarcastic. “I thought you’re supposed to be a shinobi. What was that performance?”

He drops into a cross-legged sit across from you with a returned scowl and watches as you take the dishes off the tray to set them on the low table.

“Shut up.” Madara perks almost comically, scowl dropping, “Oh, inarizushi.”

You nod with a hum. “Yoko-sam–,Yoko-san, thought it might get you out of your room.”

You pull the plate back as he reaches for it and he glares at you. His frown deepens with more irritation as you continue to slide the plate away with each attempted grasp, his hand smacking the table like a poorly played game of whack-a-mole.

“What the hell is your problem,” he seethes.

You stare at him for a long moment and slide one of the other plates to him. “You should eat your veggies first.” Madara only snatches up the dish with an irritated huff and starts to shovel them down. “Although, it’s…’interesting’ that you couldn’t get the inarizushi from me, and then there was your clumsy entrance through the window.”

His lips pull into a sneer as he sets down his own plate slowly. “Just what are you trying to insinuate?”

The bruises and scrapes are harder to see now in the dim light of the room and the setting sun fading through the window. You had seen them though, taking into consideration everything you knew so far, the lethargy, the injuries, the sneaking in and out, the Naka River. You know the answer to your question. “Where were you?”

“I was at the training grounds–”

“No you weren’t.”

The intense assessing stare that the two of you share feels like that first night nearly four years ago.

Madara’s tone takes on a hard edge, “That isn’t any of your business.” A silent command that leaves no room for backtalk, not for someone of your station and his standing.

You frown, holding his gaze for a moment longer before bowing your head and dismissing yourself. As the door slides shut behind you, a quiet plot starts to form in your head. So many new strings that you’ve been waiting to pull.

—

You’ve found that your seeming lack of chakra isn’t such a bad thing, especially when it comes to sensor-type shinobi. Most shinobi have at least some degree of sensor abilities; once they learn to mold their chakra, they can stretch it in small areas around themselves. Beyond those capabilities are sensor-type shinobi. Some clans are more predisposed for it like the Yamanaka, Hyuuga, or Kurama, while other clans utilize external means to support them, like the Inuzuka, Hatake, or Aburame. Yoko is a sensor, Madara too, and Togakushi was starting to show signs of it in his training. With being in close proximity to so many sensor-types, it’s easy to pick up on the fact that many of them unconsciously rely on their ability a bit too much.

The stronger the sensor, the less likely they are to find you.

Which is how you find yourself staring across the Naka River at a wide-eyed albino boy. He’s tense with surprise at your presence as you subtly scan him.

Tobirama is about 8 now, if you had to guess. He’s lean but softly lined with developing muscle; a frustrating revelation of how young his training must have started. He’s stuck between decisions it seems, hand frozen halfway to the weapons pouch on his hip.

Tilting your head at him ‘innocently’, you break the silence, “You’re…that kid.”

He shuffles in place slightly, stance widening and hand clenching, “What?”

“Your family stopped in my village many years ago. Just south of the Capital, by the Shimura-Senju border.” The boy glares at you a bit more. “Your mother went into labor then.”

“We’re a long way from there,” he snaps, you don’t address the nerve you seemed to have hit. “How did you end up here? On the wrong side of the Naka?”

You straighten up with a curious look, folding your hands in front of you. “I wasn’t aware that there was a ‘right’ side of the Naka. I don’t think rivers care much about virtues and vices.”

“That’s not what I meant!” The splotchy red that dusts his cheeks with indignation is amusing. And a little odd considering how he was portrayed in the series.

Laughing lightly, you descend further onto the rocky beach. Tobirama tenses, watching your movements as you balance and jump across the bigger rocks. He slowly follows you as your path takes you up-river.

“Why are you on that side of the river?” He calls across the rapids.

You huff a laugh and give him a mocking wink, “Why are you not on this side of the river?”

He looks away sharply with a pinched scowl, “That’s none of your business.”

“Then it’s none of yours, too!”

The sound of the river rapids fills the stretched silence. Out of your periphery, you can see him still following you in parallel on the other shore. Hoping off the large rock you had just jumped onto, you swoop down to snag a round, flat rock. Tobirama tenses once more as you turn towards him, drawing back your arm and loosing the rock across the top of the water. It skips once before sinking towards the riverbed with a pathetic ‘plop’. The albino gives you an unimpressed look as you frown at the slowly settling ripples.

“Sloppy form,” he quips.

“Like you can do better.”

He frowns and begins to search the rocks on the beach. You watch as he finally picks up a rock, flipping it in hand a couple times before taking up a stance. He reels back and launches the rock across the water. It bounces across the water and river before stuttering and sinking into the shallows on your side. The albino gives you a blank look that somehow still appears to be smug and the irritated pout on your lips isn’t part of your act this time.

You jokingly sneer at him, “Fine, I concede, wonderboy.”

“Don’t call me that,” he snips, nose wrinkling with distaste.

“What’s your name then?” You call back tauntingly. His head whips to the side, lips pressed into a thin line of obstinance. Laughing, you skip further up the shore, “Alright, Wonderboy it is!”

His mouth pulls into a deep scowl, brows down-turned and eyes narrowed as the two of you fall back into pacing in parallel up the rocky shore. A–not quite amicable, but mutually enjoyable–silence stretches between the two of you. You pause every now and then to pick up shiny or smooth rocks, the small hoard clacking in your hand as you roll them absently.

“That was your brother right?” You call out. The lack of response makes you continue as you stoop for another rock, “the one with the bowl cut and, uh, ‘colorful’ personality.”

“You can just say erratic.”

“Well, I wouldn’t take it that far,” you grin, “so, he is your brother.”

“That’s not a conclusion you can draw from my statement.”

You roll your eyes at his bickering, “you’re quite combative, aren’t you. How about this for a conclusion, he was there too when your family came to my village. You two at least grew up together, even if I don’t know the specifics of your relation.”

“I don’t know you. It’s only natural that I wouldn’t give a stranger sensitive information about myself,” he grumps, turning away with a scowl that looks more like a pout to you.

“‘Stranger’?” You laugh, “You could just ask me what my name is, you know. You didn’t even try earlier.”

That same indignant flush reddens his cheeks tinged with a hint of embarrassment. His mouth opens and closes a couple of times, seemingly struggling with giving in to the teasing or refuting.

The screech of a hawk makes your eyes draw up to the sky. Making note of the reddening clouds, you wave to the boy across the river. He pauses, looking put out by the teasing grin you flash him across the rapids.

“I have to get going, so you’ll just have to ask me next time. See you later!”

As you turn to trot back into the woods towards the compound, you laugh at the disgruntled squawk that echoes after you, like the hawk’s call from overhead.

“Who said I would come back here to see you!”

You don’t respond as the shadows of the forest swallow you, an amused grin hurting your cheeks. When was the last time you smiled so genuinely?

—

The room is silent as you slide the door open. You politely bow your head to the boy in the room as you approach the low table with his dinner.

“You’re late,” Madara’s lip curls with suspicion, “where were you?”

You tilt your head slowly, letting the silence draw tension into the air before giving him a knowing smile. You dig into the small bag hanging off your hip. Holding out your hand, you show him the various river rocks and shells you collected. He tenses as he stares down at the smooth stones.

“I was looking for…interesting things,” you say slowly, plucking a smooth stone with a stark white line circling its circumference and holding it out to him. “A wishing stone. They say if you trace a finger along the line, make a wish, and then throw it as far as you can into the water, your wish will come true.”

He remains stock still, jaw clenched with nervousness. You tuck the stone into his stiff hand.

Madara watches you silently as you set out the dishes and excuse yourself. His pallid complexion is the last thing you see as you give him one last sly grin and slide the door closed.

<- Prev Chapter | Next Chapter ->

A/N:

Sorry for the long wait, my power and wifi were out for a couple days because of Hurricane Helene. My family and I are safe, no damage or anything, so don’t worry! I’ve been trying to outline/prep next chapters, but I’ve been a bit busy in my personal life with a few other things, so it has been difficult finding time to write full chapters. It’s been so fun to flesh out Reader’s and Madara’s relationship. Him just being like “you’re not my sister!” and then having the most antagonistically sibling-like relationship with them. I’m living for it.

[theonlyonesora]

CH05: A Tangle of Words and Emotions

The afternoon sun cast a warm glow over Konoha's streets, the soft hum of life filling the air—merchants calling out their wares, children laughing, the quiet rustle of leaves stirred by a gentle breeze. Tobirama walked with purpose, his mind buzzing with thoughts he didn’t want to confront. The day had been unremarkable until Akari’s familiar voice sliced through the mundane, her presence as sharp and persistent as ever.

"I heard you went out on a date. Is that true?"

Her teasing tone carried easily through the air, and Tobirama clenched his jaw without even turning around. He didn’t need to see her to know the smug expression she wore. She was always like this—poking, prying, playing.

"My personal life is none of your business, and I don’t appreciate you making fun of it," he snapped, keeping his eyes on the road ahead.

Akari's light laughter followed, an airy sound that grated against his nerves and yet, somehow, stirred something else deep inside him—something far more troubling. "Oh, come on, Second Lord. Don’t be like that. I bet women are lining up to be the Hokage’s new wife. Even if he is a pain in the ass."

Tobirama growled under his breath, his fingers twitching at his sides. "You're going to annoy me all day, aren’t you, brat?"

"I’m bored. But you’re free to leave."

He stole a glance at her, irritated by the easy confidence she exuded. And yet, even as he turned away, the image of her perched on top of him—teasing, smug, in complete control—flashed in his mind again. It had haunted him for days, creeping into his thoughts at the most inconvenient moments, driving him to distraction.

He stopped abruptly, frustration bubbling to the surface. Before he could think better of it, the words left his mouth. "Come with me."

Akari blinked in surprise. "Huh? Where?"

Tobirama hesitated, cursing himself silently. What the hell was he doing? He didn’t know the answer to that, not really. But the thought of leaving her behind without some resolution felt... wrong. "Just... follow me, and you’ll see."

To his dismay, she shrugged easily and nodded. "Fine, then."

His jaw clenched. Damn it, why did she agree so quickly? He turned sharply and started walking, gesturing for her to keep up. His mind was a tangled mess, his thoughts racing, heart pounding louder than it should have. He couldn’t make sense of his actions, nor could he ignore the tightness in his chest as he heard the sound of her footsteps behind him.

"Hurry up. You’re walking too slow," he grumbled, still refusing to look back.

"I have small legs, okay? Give me a break. Not everyone is huge like you."

He rolled his eyes, biting back a smile. "Huge, huh?" He glanced over his shoulder, catching the smirk on her face. "So, you’ve noticed."

Akari gave him a sidelong look, playful and challenging. "Isn’t it obvious?"

Tobirama actually laughed—a deep, genuine laugh that surprised even him. Damn it, how did she keep doing this? How did she manage to needle her way under his skin and make him react in ways he didn’t expect? "I didn’t know you were paying attention, princess."

Her smirk faltered for just a second, her cheeks flushing a faint pink. "Wait, what did you just call me?"

He grinned, thoroughly enjoying her reaction. "You heard me, princess."

Akari shot him a narrow-eyed glare, her blush deepening. "Are you feeling okay?"

Tobirama’s grin widened. "I’m not dying, if that’s what you’re asking."

The sight of her flushed cheeks pleased him more than it should have. He couldn't deny how much he enjoyed flustering her—it was a rare victory, and one he savored. "What’s the matter, princess? Too embarrassed?"

Akari crossed her arms over her chest, clearly trying to regain her composure. "Just because you’re the Hokage doesn’t mean you can make fun of me whenever you want."

He shrugged, his smirk never wavering. "True. But being Hokage comes with some perks, princess."

Her playful expression faltered, just for a moment, and something more serious flickered in her gaze. "Then why don’t you find someone to serve those perks for you?"

The question caught him off guard, striking a nerve he hadn’t expected. The idea of someone else fulfilling that role—of another woman standing by his side—felt... wrong. Uncomfortable. Irritating.

His steps slowed, and without meaning to, he found himself speaking more honestly than he intended. "Damn, what are you suggesting I do?"

Akari shrugged, her tone casual but her words sharp. "Find a wife to annoy."

Tobirama’s lips curled into a sneer. "I have no interest in marriage."

Her brow arched, her gaze probing. "Are you not interested, or are you just unable to find someone?"

His expression darkened, and the words slipped out before he could stop them. "Marriage is for idiots."

The silence that followed was thick and heavy, and Tobirama immediately regretted his words.

Akari blinked, her face carefully blank, but there was a flicker of hurt in her eyes that she couldn’t quite hide. "Then I guess I’m an idiot."

Tobirama froze, frustration bubbling up as he realized how she had taken his words. "I didn’t mean it like that."

She gave him a small, tight smile—one that didn’t reach her eyes. "Sure you didn’t."

Damn it. He hated this—hated the way his careless words had hurt her, hated the way she looked at him now, guarded and distant.

For a moment, they stood there in awkward silence, the lightness from earlier evaporating like mist in the morning sun. Tobirama struggled to find the right words, something that would smooth over the tension, but nothing came to mind.

He let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Look, Akari..." He trailed off, unsure of how to finish.

She shook her head, her smile softening slightly, though there was still a hint of sadness in her eyes. "It’s okay, Tobirama. You don’t have to explain."

But the thing was—he wanted to explain. He just didn’t know how.

[mayhem-neverending]

What Should Have Been Expected

VII 

Word Count: 824

Warnings: None

Note: I finally decided how exactly I want to approach the sage mode, so I know where to take this now (vaguely). Short and sweet for this chapter. Thank you all for taking the time to read this story. Maybe a little OOC. Also unedited lol. 

Tobirama felt a weight press against him. Instinctively, his eyes shot open to assess the situation. His body tensed, and he strained his ears while his eyes attempted to adjust to the darkness of the room. All he could hear was soft, slow breathi- Oh.

He released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He had rolled onto his back in his sleep, making it easy for you to curl up to his side. He slowly released the tension in his body, relaxing back into the mattress, but not completely. He brought a hand up to rub his tired face. 

He became acutely aware of where your body met his. One of your hands loosely grasped his night shirt, right at his side and one of your legs draped over his own. He shifted his head in your direction, but couldn’t see much more than a rough outline of your dainty figure in the darkness. He took his hand and gingerly brushed his rough fingers across your cheek. The tips of his fingers were electrified from the contact, causing him to inhale deeply.

Not once in his life had he lain with a woman like this. He stared at the ceiling, losing himself in thought. He wondered, if not for the constant fighting, would he have spent his time differently? Would he smile more, be able to relax fully; know how to be a husband?

He sighed quietly. He was a smart man, creative, too. But he felt somewhat lost when it came to you. He wanted to be a good husband to you, to be familiar with you, like Hashirama was to Mito. He knew that he was making himself even more of a stranger than he already was by staying in his office most of the time. It was just difficult for him to interact with you, despite his want to. 

He had never paid much attention to women; a result of all those years of violence. As he laid there, he couldn’t recall a time where he felt more than a passing attraction to someone. He certainly had never loved one. 

He brushed his fingers across your knuckles, heart beating harder in his chest. The way you made him feel was exciting, even if he didn’t know how to show it. He enjoyed your presence, and loved the way his heartbeat picked up when your eyes met. 

He placed his hand on his stomach, close enough to yours that his fingers itched to make contact. He resisted, just barely, and forced himself to resume his sleep. 

The next time he woke, you had rolled away from him, facing the windows. It was just beginning to be light outside. The tired man rose slowly, careful not to wake you, and slipped out of the room. He padded to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water before he headed to his office to change and begin work.

As he headed to the door, he felt almost compelled to lay next to you once more. His hand hovered over the doorknob. Logically, he knew that wasn’t the right course of action. His body, however, begged him to go. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the feeling, and opened his office door.

He worked in relative peace for a couple hours before he heard your quiet footsteps on the wood floor. He found himself focusing intently on your movement, his pen hovering over a document as he stared at it blankly. He realized his action after a minute or so and mentally chastised himself. 

He finished the scroll after what felt like a painstakingly long amount of time. It had to be written properly, but he had a hard time focusing. Tobirama reasoned, after he set the paper down, that the touch the night before was causing him to have an even greater interest in you. He rubbed his temples, and tried to push the feeling down so that he could do his job. 

His internal battle, however, was interrupted by a soft knock at his office door. He stood abruptly, nearly knocking his chair over in his haste. Tobirama’s body moved on its own, and he was opening his door in an instant. 

He looked down at where you stood, a foot or two beyond the doorway. Your eyebrows were raised slightly in mild surprise, and he felt a tinge of embarrassment at his speed. 

“Breakfast,” your voice was soft and warm.

He nodded, and walked down the hall and out to the table while you woke your brother. You joined him shortly after he sat and took a sip of your coffee. Once you were settled, he caught your eye.

“Thank you,” 

You picked up your coffee and took a sip, eyes never leaving his. The way you looked at him was different than before. It made him feel warm and comforted. Was it affection? 

“You’re welcome,”

[parafic]

Typhoon Island and Kagami demands rescuing! I'm loving those so much!

Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying them!

Typhoon Island:

Izuna darts forward, sharingan spinning, and drops through the opening.  Hikaku follows. Hikaku pauses at the opening, using chakra to hold onto the stone so he can see from overhead.  It’s… distracting, hearing Tobirama’s footsteps approaching quietly behind him, but he tries to focus on Izuna instead. Through the hole is a large cavern, shaped like an inverted bowl with perfectly smooth floor and sides.  Two adults are huddled together near two burning lanterns, and two others are at the other side of the cavern, among over a dozen children, ranging from toddlers to early teens.  One of the toddlers is clinging to one of the bloodline thieves, too young and too scared to realize who she’s clinging to.

Kagami demands rescuing:

It’s fine.  “Let’s sit down,” Hikaku says, and glances up at the three Senju—they look annoyed and disgusted in varying degrees, but none of them make a move to stop him, so Hikaku sinks down to the ground. It doesn’t feel any better, actually.  But now he won’t fall. They wait.  The seconds feel like agony; Hikaku can’t bring himself to turn off his sharingan even as it drains his already low chakra.  A breeze stirs the leaves high above them; insects crawl and flutter by.  The Senju breathe and shift and watch them.  The minutes feel like they aren’t passing at all.

[belit0]

Hello 😏 can I request primal play? “Run. If I catch you, I fuck you.” With IzuTobi? And if it’s not too much trouble either in a separate post or this same one, the same prompt but with indra

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSS, I LITERALLY LOVE THIS SO MUCH

(this is a combined post, Tobiizu and Indra x reader, separately)

Please, TobiIzu lovers, let me know what u think about this one cause I really liked it🛐👀💕

Tobirama x Izuna

"You have three days. Run, flee, hide. If I catch you, I'll fuck you wherever you are, no matter if there are people present or not." Tobirama's words bounce off every wall of his mind, exhilarating and terrifying in equal parts. Izuna eats his rice leisurely, watching the owner of the tavern he managed to find as a refuge wander back and forth. There is not much work to be done as the place is a proper shithole, but he moves as if he had to attend to 500 people at the same time.

72 hours is a huge advantage, considering the rules include the impossibility for the Senju to use his Hiraishin. If he wants to catch him, he will have to move like a normal ninja, ignoring the possibility of teleporting with his seals.

Izuna is convinced of having done a good job, putting between them at least a good few kilometers of distance and having used every hour of advantage in his favor, without wasting a second to get as far away from him as possible.

It all started as a stupid fight between the two, arguing about the past, particularly that time Izuna almost lost his life. They debated who of the two was faster before the albino developed his stupid technique, both claiming to have been superior to the other.

The decantation of this conflict ended in a terrifying bet, where Tobirama proposes to hunt down the Uchiha before seven days have passed. Giving him three days to escape felt like a joke, but he secretly appreciated it.

As the time limit he had to flee expired, he decided to set up his hideout in a lost village in the middle of nowhere, non-existent on the map, far from any popular road. He spent a good amount of hours covering any kind of trail he might have left, hiding his chakra so as not to be detected.

The Uchiha believes he has done an excellent job, relaxing and enjoying a plate of hot food from the decaying shelter he found. Everything seems to have gone perfectly, and he must stay there until the end of the bet, safe and secure.

On the fourth day, Izuna gets bored and decides to explore, finding a lake where he can take a bath in the open air and soak up sun. Life is sweet and easy without the constant nagging and fighting of his enemy, but damn he misses the bastard. He can even picture how Tobirama would fuck him against the rocks, half-body submerged in water, and his mind flies. He only returns to the shelter to masturbate with that idea in mind, not wanting to dirty the place with his business.

The fifth day is filled with uncertainty, the moment he calculated Tobirama would be nearby. He planted false evidence in the opposite direction, carefully planned footsteps and speed marks strewn along other roads, seeking to throw him off and waste his time. His strategy is flawless, and he figures he has found a way to make him swallow dust.

The Senju will lose.

The sixth day dawns with pure peace and the taste of being close to victory palpable in his mouth, imagining how he will rub in his enemy's face his uselessness for tracking and how bad his sensory skills are.

Tobirama turned out to be much ado about nothing, empty threats.

Izuna goes back to sitting at the same table he always occupies to eat, greeting the old man who runs the business of that destroyed place as if a close friend and devouring the food placed in front of him. He looks out the window as he finishes plate after plate, anxious to go back and laugh in the Senju's face.

He leans back in his chair when he feels like his belly is going to explode, and thinks he's crazy when he hears the old man talking to another customer. Since he arrived, he has never seen another person stop there, not even enter through the door, travelers having no idea of the place's existence.

Their conversation happens behind his back, and he listens intently without turning around. "Always wonderful meals from this place, one could expect nothing less from you." A deep male voice speaks calmly, complimenting the poor old man's services.

The person speaks as if a frequent visitor to the place, and that is what makes Izuna understand the seriousness of the matter. No one knows this site, no one can find it on the map because it literally does not exist, and there are no villages nearby.

"Lord Senju...you make this old man feel special, you are welcome here any time you please."

He has been found.

It takes not even a second for him to get up and run, violently opening the door and quickly moving deeper into the forest. It can't be, there's no way he's found a lost, non-existent spot and not fallen for any of his traps.

There is absolutely no way Tobirama could have read his strategy and discovered his plan so easily, without even announcing himself when finding him. How long has he been there? Was he waiting for Izuna to notice it on his own? Wasn't he intending to act?

He has no time to think as he jumps from branch to branch, suddenly agitated and with the urgent need to flee. Breathing hard only because of the surprise of the situation, he is desperate to get away from the place and make him lose trail of him.

Food rises and falls in his throat as he uses all his strength and runs, focusing on making his legs move to their maximum capacity. He swallows a few times to avoid having to stop to vomit, unable to waste time.

He has to run.

If he really sets his mind to it, he can manage to disappear, mislead him with quick strategies, and just move. Hell, he might even resort to hiding under his brother's skirt if he really wants to win, tempted by the need not to hurt his own ego.

Izuna feels how his enemy follows close behind him, too near for his liking, and hurries even faster. His legs burn from the effort and sweat runs down his forehead, but he has no time to stop. He'll have to struggle for a few hours to outrun him, figure out where to turn and which way to go-

BOOM!

The Uchiha unexpectedly falls to the ground, a sharp blow to the throat that robs all the air from his lungs and doesn't let him breathe. He writhes in the dirt and leaves, clutching his neck and feeling himself suffocating, struggling to get oxygen into his body.

What the actual fuck? Tobirama was behind him, how can this be?

As soon as he manages to open his throat again he violently coughs, almost vomiting (again) in the process, unable to focus his attention on understanding what happened. There were no obstacles in front of him, no high branches, why is he suddenly on the ground?

"I thought you'd be better at this, after the way you filled your mouth talking bullshit." His rival speaks with a teasing tone, mocking and towering his form with arms crossed. He looks at him calmly, smirk adorning the corner of his lips, taunting.

He can't find the strength to reply with sarcasm, still worried about being able to breathe normally, but he'd tell him to fuck off if he could.

A second Senju joins the meeting, a perfect clone that looks at him with the same condescension as the original Tobirama, and the Uchiha understands what his strategy was. The albino hid in the route he assumed Izuna would use as an escape path, years of knowledge gained from war and combat giving him clear information on what his enemy would do once aware of the danger, and sent his copy to make him run straight into him.

He simply had to hide and wait, let him sprint directly towards his arms.

Fucking cheating bastard.

"You said I couldn't use my Hiraishin, but you didn't say anything about other techniques." One of the two Tobiramas towering in front of him flips him over on the ground, pulling down his pants and exposing his ass to the air. The original hovers down on top of him and whispers in his ear "you'll take me twice today, just for being a pain in the ass." He can feel his erection against his bare skin, and the moment the Senju rises up and spits out his hand.

The rest is history.

Indra x Reader

An hour is not enough time when talking about being chased by Indra Otsutsuki himself, but he was kind enough to only walk in order to hunt her down. He will not hurry or rush the pace to capture her, only striding.

(Y/N) runs away as fast as she can, but nothing seems to provide space between her predator and her. She looks back and sees him moving calmly, straight in her direction. It is terrifying and distressing, unable to understand how it is possible that even when she runs as fast as she can, nothing manages to give her an advantage, to get away.

He didn't give her much time, an ever impatient man desperate to get what he wants, and the exhaustion the girl feels from having spent the last 60 minutes rushing is real.  People stare at her passing by quizzically, wondering what she's doing and where she's going in such a hurry.

The Uchiha compound is large, spacious, but she can't find anywhere suitable to hide. Indra knows every nook and cranny of each part of his own territory, completely internalized with the place he built, leaving her with no options.

They have been in this insane game for quite a while, and Indra seems to rejoice every time he seizes her in his hands only to allow her to try running away again.

She simply devotes all her effort to maintaining a high pace, forcing her legs to keep moving, not letting her intensity or guard down. (Y/n) is convinced she will manage to lose him if she keeps up her rhythm, ignoring the fact she had her time to escape, yet Indra caught up with her in a matter of minutes.

He didn't reveal what would happen if he captured her, but the malice with which he implied it would be in her best interest not to fall into his hands filled her with a terrible urgency, desperate to get away, save herself.

When she looks back, Indra is only a few steps away, smirking with anticipation for whatever it is he has in store. It looks as if he might touch her just by stretching out his arm, but he just keeps on making her run.

The horror of being hunted by such a determined and cruel person creates deep emptiness in her stomach, her body giving up and slowing down little by little. She doesn't want to be caught, she doesn't want to face the consequences of it, but her legs scream for a break and her feet can no longer stand the effort.

In tears, she decides to slow down, and feels the exact moment when the Otsutsuki towers behind her, waiting for her to turn and face him. "You have failed." Is all she hears before a hand closes over her mouth and she senses the man's chest against her back, a choked scream on his skin, and pure panic in her veins.

The scene suddenly changes, a moment of movement that seems unreal, vision blurring in her eyes and quickly adjusting again. The setting changes completely, and now she finds herself in a room, facing a bed. "Three times I've allowed you to run away, three times I've captured you. It's now time for me to collect my reward."

She is pushed mercilessly to the mattress, while Indra looks at her with satisfaction and derision as he takes off his robe. "I mentioned running behooves you, yet instead you dismissed my warning as a game. Now, on to the business at hand."

[n3on-graveston3s-calling]

Burn For You

[ A Madara Uchiha / Fem! Tobirama Senju fanfiction ]

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 5,854

Characters: Uchiha Madara, Senju Tobirama

Summary:

“If you keep looking at me like that, I might just think you actually fancy me, Uchiha,” Tobirama had taunted, a smirk curling wine colored lips as she glanced over. However, unlike their normal banter, he hadn’t responded. “... That was a joke. You’re supposed to laugh now. Ha-ha.” She mumbled, lips turning down into a pout as she turned her gaze back to the papers. “Senju.” His voice was soft, low- nearly resembling a growl as he stepped closer. Instinctually, her legs spread, the cloth of her kimono parting with the movement, feet barely meeting the ground. Prepared to run, to bolt, Madara noticed. Or perhaps to fight, with how her hands gripped the edge of the table. “You’re a nuisance, you realize that, yes?”

Author's Notes:

This was inspired by Burn For You by Abigail Barlow! It suits Tobirama and Madara really well, imo. Also, this is just fourteen pages of smut. I hope you all enjoy this! This is an old repost, you've probably seen it before; I've had it on my ao3 for about two years. Figured I should share it here, too. <3

It all started with a confession.

“I burn for you.”

The admission had taken her off guard. She’d agreed to stay behind after a meeting, going over the development plans for the Nara clan to settle in the North Eastern part of the village outside of the gates so that their deer would have plenty of space to roam and not fear the wrath of hunters. Madara had additional ideas that needed to be looked at by a different pair of eyes- constructive criticism before presenting it officially to the council. The night had grown long, the candles burned so long that they were more melted wax than actual candles. She’d ended up sitting atop the table, her legs crossed as she read over Madara’s ideas, comparing them with her brother’s. Truth be told, Hashirama seemed to be distracted- his plans were barely finished, whereas Madara’s were completely finalized. It was nice to see work actually getting done.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I might just think you actually fancy me, Uchiha,” Tobirama had taunted, a smirk curling wine colored lips as she glanced over. However, unlike their normal banter, he hadn’t responded. “... That was a joke. You’re supposed to laugh now. Ha-ha.” She mumbled, lips turning down into a pout as she turned her gaze back to the papers.

“Senju.” His voice was soft, low- nearly resembling a growl as he stepped closer. Instinctually, her legs spread, the cloth of her kimono parting with the movement, feet barely meeting the ground. Prepared to run, to bolt, Madara noticed. Or perhaps to fight, with how her hands gripped the edge of the table. “You’re a nuisance, you realize that, yes?”

“A nuisance?!” She exclaimed, eyes widening in surprise. “You've some nerve, calling me- what are you doing?” All heat vanished as he settled between her spread thighs, his hands braced upon the wood of the table on either side of her hips. “Madara, are you ill? Is something the matter?” A hand reached up to touch her wrist to his forehead to see if he’d come down with a fever, only for his hand to capture it-

And press a searing kiss to her wrist.

“I burn for you,” he murmured against the pale skin, lips brushing so gently, delicately- as if afraid that the mere movement would cause her pain. “I burn for you, day in and day out.”

“Madara-” her voice was barely above a whisper, chest rising and falling quickly as her heart began to race. When he looked up at her, her breath halted all together: three black tomoe stood out against ruby irises, yet she could not look away. Heat gathered in her cheeks- and lower, much lower, to her own embarrassment. “This is- inappropriate.” Even so, she did not pull her hand away.

She leaned closer.

That is, until the sound of footsteps approaching had Madara backing away, Tobirama cradling her wrist delicately as the door opened, revealing Mito. “Pardon the intrusion,” she murmured, giving a small bow. “My husband forgot his files, and instead of coming back himself, he sent me.” A sharp roll of the eyes showed her annoyance, even if her smile was soft.

“You could have told him to fuck off,” Tobirama stated simply, shoulders rising in a shrug.

Mito let out a bark of laughter at her sister-in-law. “I think that would have given him a heart attack!” Shaking her head, she flashed the pair a smile before turning on her heel. “Don’t work too late, you two.”

“We won’t,” Madara called after her, though his gaze was trained on Tobirama. The only way she could describe what she saw in his gaze was hunger. Pure hunger.

A fire had been started- and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to douse the flames, or fan them.

“We should… Head home for the night, yes?” Tobirama asked, scooting off of the top of the table to settle her feet on the floor once more, gathering her scrolls. She could sense Madara lingering behind her, yet he did not touch. His gaze was akin to their famed fireball jutsu, scorching the back of her neck. “Do get some rest, Madara.”

“You as well,” Madara murmured, though he made no move to follow her out of the door. Her footsteps were calm at first, until she was outside of the Hokage’s office. Only then did she sprint, pressing chakra into her legs to make her move faster, to get back to the Senju compound quicker. Alone, she needed to be alone to process what just occurred.

That had been a fortnight ago. Ever since, she’d been busy overseeing the building of the Nara compound while Madara saw to his own clan, making sure they were comfortable as the Uchiha compound began to expand. And every night since, her thoughts had been consumed with the feeling of his lips against her skin, his gaze boring into her own, the feeling of his hips settled between her thighs-

A sharp shake of the head causes wild snowy locks to sway with the movement. Not now, not while she’s reading reports. Even so, her foot tapped on the floor, a movement that spoke volumes of her unease, her need to get up, to demand to know why he’d done it. His office was across from her own. All she’d need to do is rise from her desk, walk across the hall, and demand an answer.

Burn for you.

The words held weight, especially for an Uchiha- known for their innate ability to control fire. To burn for someone is to be completely overwhelmed by the flames of passion, of lust. To think only of them.

Her thighs pressed together beneath her desk.

“Fuck,” she groaned, leaning back in her chair, head flopping back as her eyes closed. This was annoying, she decided. A nuisance. Yet, the Uchiha had kept her thoughts entertained. The night prior had been spent with her face pressed to her pillow, her hand between her thighs, working herself over and wishing it had been something much thicker.

The current bane of her existence knocked on the door before opening it, his gaze settled upon the paper he held. “Did you know that Hashirama put in for an expansion of the Senju compound?” He asked, annoyance clear in his voice as Tobirama forced herself to focus.

“I had no idea,” she replied dryly, her brow furrowing. “We don’t need more space. We’ve got plenty already.” Her gaze drifted, studying Madara for a moment. He wore no armor- they never did when in office. The summer yukata did little to hide what lay beneath.

Perhaps that was why her underlings were so distracted.

“Hm,” a sigh escaped his lips as he set the paper down onto her desk, only to pause for a moment. “Can we speak?”

“We’re speaking now.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m afraid you’ll need to be a bit clearer.”

“About what I said.” Madara caved, shaking his head at the Senju. “It was uncalled for, and I was out of pocket-”

“Tonight,” Tobirama cut in, raising a hand, causing Madara to pause. “Meet me in my quarters tonight, and we will talk about what you said. Not now- I’m busy.”

“Busy.” He repeated, gaze trailing over the stack of papers to be signed. “Right. Tonight, then.”

“Tonight,” Tobirama agreed, her gaze never lifting from her paper. “You’re dismissed.”

“Dismissed?! I-”

“Out of my office, Uchiha.” She snapped, feeling a touch smug as Madara turned on his heel and marched out, all but slamming the door on his way out. A snort escaped her as she leaned back. Tonight, they would speak. Tonight, the truth would come out- one way or another.

The day had passed quickly, leaving her spinning in the aftermath. Tobirama drug a hand through her hair, down from it’s normal high ponytail, the wild, curling tresses free for once. Her footsteps carried her across the room in a quick pace, her heart a staccato beat within her chest. Any moment now, she’d be able to feel the familiar flicker of Madara’s chakra entering the compound. To the East, Mito sat with Hashirama- no doubt the pair beginning to bed down for the night.

There, at the southern edge- the flicker of warmth, of red-tinged chakra that felt like standing too close to a bonfire. Her breath skipped a beat as she turned, studying her reflection in the mirror across from her bed. The sleeping yukata did little to give modesty. In a last moment effort to try to compose herself, she snags a robe and quickly ties it around her waist.

The sound of footsteps had her turning, studying the door the moment before it opened, revealing Madara. “Right on time,” she commented idly as she reached back, pulling her hair out from beneath the robe, inadvertently causing the fabric of both robe and sleeping yukata to rise.

“I hope it’s not too late?” Madara asks, head tilting, gaze drifting to the pale skin that was revealed. The barest hint of red on those thighs- did the tattoos stretch that far down? “I’m afraid I was caught up in clan business.”

“Not too late at all,” Tobirama replies with a shake of her head. “Please, come in- close the door, too?” She adds as an afterthought, moving to where she’d set up sakazuki. Her room was nice- it got the morning sun, and the afternoon shade, causing it to be cooler compared to the other sections of the compound’s main house.

Madara walked over to the low table, settling down into an improper sitting position, crossing his legs. Tobirama settles across from him, easing herself into a polite seiza, though the yukata and robe part to reveal how her thighs press together. Such pale skin… “I’m surprised you would even want to meet to discuss what was said,” he commented idly, head tilting as his gaze tracked her movements; sake was poured first for him, and then for herself. “I’d figured you’d want to ignore it.”

“Why ignore it,” she asked as she raised her sakazuki to her lips, careful not to spill a single drop, “when it’s the truth for myself as well?”

Madara nearly choked on the sake- and not from the taste. “Pardon?” He asked, blinking rapidly. “I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

“How did you phrase it?” Tobirama’s head tilts, her gaze narrowing, ruby hues settling upon Madara’s face- flushed, eyes wide, caught off guard. “I burn for you.”

“You burn for me?”

“I burn.”

“You… Burn,” he murmured, gaze growing heavy- hungry. “For me.”

“I burn, day in and day out,” she nodded, sipping her sake once more. “I would be lying if I said I hadn’t envisioned you in my quarters.”

A moment of silence passed before Madara was reaching across the table, taking hold of the collar of her yukata to tug her over, their lips meeting in a kiss that was equally teeth and lips. Biting, hungry, her hands reached up to tangle in wild dark locks, tugging none-too-gently. A groan spilled free from Madara as he pulled back, her lip caught between his teeth in a gentle bite before he released her.

“You’ve no idea how long I’ve pictured this moment,” his words were barely above a growl as Tobirama rose to her feet, the robe discarded, the collar of her yukata disheveled, baring a pale collarbone and shoulder. “How many times I’ve thought of you in my own quarters.”

“I think mine are more comfortable,” she teases as she settles atop his lap, her arms wrapping around his shoulders, her nails gently scraping at the back of his neck. “After all, my bed is made to fit… Multiple.”

Multiple. Oh. Madara’s gaze grows distant as he envisions just what she insinuated for a moment, lips parting slightly. “Multiple.”

“Come now- you didn’t take me for a prude, did you?” She murmured, leaning in to kiss along his jaw, lips trailing up to his left ear. “After all, you just admitted that you’ve thought of me. Tell me, Madara- what have you thought of? What positions?” The shell of his ear is nipped before he reaches up, gripping her jaw to tug her head back.

“Do you truly want to know?” He asks, leaning back as if surveying her. His other hand reached up to brush her hair back from her face before his fingers began to drift, tracing the collar of her yukata slowly, gently nudging the fabric to cause it to fall back, baring more pale skin and red ink.

Such flimsy things, yukata.

“Senju Tobirama wants to hear how I’ve thought of her at night?” His fingers leave her jaw to brush knuckles gently against her cheek. “How I’ve thought of her on her knees beneath my desk, her lips around my cock? Or how I’ve pictured her laying on her back, pleasuring herself in front of me?” His lips quirked into a smirk as Tobirama whined softly at that, her eyes fluttering shut. “Or how I’ve spent so many nights picturing you laying beneath me, begging for my cock, begging for me to fuck you harder, faster?”

“Please,” she whispered, eyes opening into slits, her cheeks flushed. “My fingers could never be enough.”

Fingers. Her fingers? Oh- oh, a groan spilled free as he leaned in, stealing a kiss that had Tobirama’s head swimming. His hands smoothed down her back, pulling her closer, causing her to rise onto her knees. No words were exchanged as his hands slipped to grip her thighs, holding her up as he rose to his knees, then his feet.

Huh. Tobirama pulled back from the kiss to glance down at the floor for a moment. “... One day, take me against the wall.” She spoke quietly, as if to herself, though it got a chuckle out of Madara as he carried her to her bed.

It was large, he noted- larger than his own. “Anywhere you want,” he murmured as he settled her down, not bothering to part as his lips began to kiss and bite a scorching trail down her neck. “Your office, mine- my compound- wherever you want, just say the word.” A soft moan filled the air as his hand came up to settle atop her left breast, gently massaging through the fabric of the yukata. Her hands tangle in his hair as she keens, her eyes closed, head tilted back against the pillows. He pulled back long enough to make quick work of the tie that held the yukata together before parting the thin fabric, baring Tobirama to the chill of the room. She doesn’t cover herself.

No, her legs settle down against the silken sheets. Nothing beneath. Oh, she’d been prepared for this! The realization draws a chuckle from him as his hands smooth across her thighs, marveling at the way the red ink settles into her skin. Her chest- oh, how it encircles both breasts, ending in a circle in the center of chest. The bands around her biceps, encircling her shoulders, how they encircle her throat. That’s why she preferred the high mandarin collars. The ink stretches further down, encircling both thighs. His fingers trace their paths, drawing forth gentle shudders that dance across her skin.

“Beautiful,” Madara whispers, leaning down to press a kiss in the center of the circle that laid upon her chest. “Every inch.”

“Who knew you’d be a sap?” Tobirama teased, though the flush in her cheeks gave away how affected she was by his ministrations- and the slickness between her thighs.

She receives no verbal response; instead, he continues to kiss a trail lower, feeling her stomach tense beneath his lips. A smile curls them as he glances up, meeting her gaze the same moment his tongue lolls out, dragging a slow trail back up towards her chest. His lips enclose around her right nipple as his fingers begin to toy with the left, pinching gently the same time his teeth graze against the other.

“I always- oh- knew you had a thing for breasts,” Tobirama snickers before flinching at the swat he gave to her thigh. Huh. “What with how much you try to- watch your damned teeth-” another swat, though he pulls back from her breast, “-try to peek down my clothes.”

“What can I say?” Madara muses, a cheeky grin curling his lips as he leans in to steal a kiss, his hand soothing the area he’d swatted mere moments before. “I’m a simple man with simple likes.”

“Gross.”

“Fuck off.”

“Take your yukata off and I will,” Tobirama mutters, reaching out to drag her nails down the portion of his chest that was revealed. “I’ve always wondered if you’ve got the dick to back up how cocky you are.”

“You little shit,” he hissed, falling for her words as he made quick work of his yukata, leaving him in his undergarments- which hid nothing, Tobirama noted, her eyes widening in surprise. “Ha! See? I can actually back my shit- oh,” whatever he’d intended to say died on his tongue as Tobirama had reached out, palming at him through his underwear, her eyes wide in curiosity.

Wordlessly, she sat up, gaze intense as she leaned in to lick a slow line down the center of his abdominals- a mirror of what he’d done to her, he realized belatedly. “Lay down,” she murmured against the sensitive skin of his stomach. He obeyed, settling back against the large bed, hair spreading out beneath him like a dark halo. She went to crawl between his legs, only for Madara to grunt.

“No.”

A blink. “Why not?”

“Come here.”

“Wh- oh.” Realization struck, and her cheeks burned as she swallowed roughly. “Right,” carefully, as if afraid she’d somehow crush him, she crawled up and turned. It was an intimate position, one that she didn’t often find herself in with her previous partners, yet Madara didn’t complain. This way, it left them both open- vulnerable, but gave her the perfect angle to reach out and tug his underwear down far enough to free his cock. “... Are all the Uchiha built like this?” She asked, half joking as she gazed down at it.

She couldn’t lie- it wasn’t a bad dick. Not at all- no, it was veiny, but not outwardly awful to look at. Thick; the stretch would hurt, she had no doubt about that. But a part of her thrilled at the idea of the pain. A jolt danced through her, drawing forth a startled gasp at the feeling of his tongue licking a slow stripe up her slit. “No, we aren’t,” he finally answered as his hands raised, settling on her most intimate part and spreading her wide. “I’m just fuckin’ lucky.”

Her eyes rolled, but any retort she had died the moment his tongue pressed against her clit. Gaze closing, she enjoyed the feeling for a moment longer, hips grinding back against his mouth, moans spilling free. Damn him- he was talented. Perhaps the rumors she’d heard were true. Reaching out, she cupped his cock, giving a light stroke before leaning forward, tongue lolling out to give sweet kitten licks at the head, enjoying the way his thighs tensed at the feeling. Two could play at this game, she decided as she opened her mouth wider, taking the head in to suckle on.

Madara groaned against her, lips closed around her clit before he pulled back for a moment, letting his thumb circle her clit in quick, tight circles. “What, is it too big for you?” He teased, only to eat his words a moment later as wet heat encircled over half of his length-

And she swallowed around him. His head fell back against the pillows, a groan filling the room as she began to bob her head in earnest. His fingers didn’t pause, tormenting her clit. Neither would last like this, not with how pent up they were. And as tempting as it was to let her finish him off like this, or to have her finish against his mouth-

That could come another time.

“To-Tobirama, stop, stop,” he murmured, tapping her thigh gently to get her attention. One last slow lick is given before she lifts her head.

“What?” Was she not good? She hadn’t gotten any sort of complaints before, but there was certainly a first time for everything. Her answer was given the next moment as he rolled her off of him.

“As much as I’d love to continue this,” he mused, pushing himself up, his gaze drifting over her form, “I’d much rather have you coming around my fingers than my tongue. This time, at least.”

A shiver danced across her skin at the implication that there would be more than just this. That this wouldn’t be a simple one-night stand. A smile curled her lips as she adjusted herself, settling back against the pillows. Reaching out, she snagged his wrist and tugged him closer, pulling him in for a slow kiss, much more sensual than their initial- the heat still there, certainly, but no longer a fight of dominance. Her hand slipped beneath her pillows, retrieving the small glass vial of oil. “I’m sure you know what to do with this,” she murmured into the kiss, giving his bottom lip a nip.

A chuckle rumbled free from his chest as he plucked the vial from her grasp, settling back on his knees between her thighs. “I think I have an idea,” he agreed, uncorking the bottle with his teeth before letting the oil drizzle out over his fingers, coating two and letting a small stream drip onto her already-soaked cunt. With his clean hand, he replaced the cork before carefully setting the vial aside.

Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to the inside of her left thigh while his right hand continued to work, thumb rubbing clockwise circles against her clit as a second finger eased in beside the first, stretching her out. She was relaxed, sure- but not enough, not to his standards. “Tobi,” he murmured, watching as her gaze fluttered open, brows draw inwards, lips parted to allow soft moans and whispers of “Yes,” and “right there,” to spill free. “Eyes on me,” the command had her tightening around his fingers, a pulse of arousal. He felt the shift when his Sharingan activated, the strain on the veins around his eyes and within as everything swam into a sharper view.

It might be needed again later.

His clean hand settled atop her thigh, massaging it as he eased a finger in, drawing a pleased gasp from Tobirama’s lips. Her eyes fluttered shut, cheeks a rosy hue as he crooked his finger, slowly drawing it back out before pushing back in- a slow pace. She was soaked- realistically, he didn’t believe she needed much prep, but he’d dreamed of this moment for too long to even consider speeding through this.

He wanted to remember this.

“The great Tobirama Senju, getting fucked by none of than Uchiha Madara- her sworn enemy,” he taunted, crooking his fingers up, pressing against the most sensitive part of her. A whine- loud, long- escaped, her thighs tensing on either side of him as his hand sped up suddenly. Wet, so very wet. “How lewd,” he crooned, giving her thigh a nip, enjoying the way the muscle jumped beneath his touch. “So fucking wet for me already- listen, Tobirama.”

“Sh-shut up,” Tobirama gasped, her hands gripping at her chest. Good, so good- she was drawing close. “Stop- ‘Dara, stop, too close,” she warned, but his fingers didn’t slow down. “Madara- oh, Madara, there, there, don’t-” her words cut off as her orgasm swept over her. Her head fell back against the pillows, snowy tresses spread about the dark sheets like a halo as she pulsed around his fingers, coating them and his hand.

A pleased hum rumbled free as Madara leaned down, pressing a kiss to her over-sensitive clit. “Good girl,” he murmured, giving it a lick, succeeding in drawing out a broken whine as his fingers withdrew. Sitting back, he reached out to grasp the vial once more to open it, using the remaining oil to slick his cock up. He gave it a few slow strokes, thumb drifting over the sensitive slit in the head to gather the bit of precum that had gathered.

“Don’t treat me like I’m made of glass,” Tobirama murmured, reaching out to take hold of one of Madara’s hands. “I’m anything but glass.”

“I’m aware,” he replied, scooting forward to settle his hips against hers. A groan fell from both at the sensation of his cock rutting against her cunt. “You’ve never been glass. Iron is a much better word to describe you,” murmuring, he took a moment to enjoy the sensation of being so close to her. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze as his other guided his cock to her entrance. A slow push of his hips had the head slipping in, a gasp breaking free from Tobirama’s lips, her eyes squeezing shut at the intrusion.

Not made of glass, but still very much human.

The stretch was wonderful- the slight sting of pain eased by his thumb on her clit, by his hips slowly moving forward and not deciding to seat himself in her all at once. So much- almost too much, but she’d be the last to admit that. His hips settled against her own, his hand leaving hers to grip at her hips instead, thumbs rubbing small circles into the soft, unscarred skin. “Good,” she whispered, gaze opening to reveal hazy ruby hues. A moment passed as they both grew used to the sensation- her to how filled she felt, him to the wet heat that encased his cock. Curiously, she shifted her hips, a low moan leaving at the feeling of him moving within.

Madara took that as his sign, hips drawing back before shifting forward slowly, testing the waters. Tobirama’s breath hitched, her brow drawing inward, hands slowly gripping at the sheets beneath her. “Please,” she whispered, tongue slipping out to wet her lips. “Fuck me.”

“Gladly,” he grinned, shifting his knees before he began to thrust harder, faster, causing Tobirama to moan- a much louder sound than anything she’d given him before. Wordless little sounds, but gaining in pitch as his hips met hers, as he pulled her back onto his cock. “If I didn’t know any better,” he panted, gaze trained on her face, “I’d almost mistake you for a common oiran.” The way she tightened around him at the slight degradation had his hips slowing for a moment, much to her annoyance. “Oh, yes, I could see it so easily,” he continued, hips grinding, barely pulling out before pushing back in, rubbing against that spot that had her breath catching in her throat. “You in one of those little Tea Houses that have settled here, wearing a pretty little kimono, your lips stained red- laying on your back just like this, letting men use you like the whore you really are,” his voice dipped into a growl as he leaned forward, resting his weight on his forearms while the position shifted, her hips rising with his.

Bordering so closely to the mating press, he noted in the back of his mind. But that didn’t matter, not with Tobirama gasping out his name. “Madara,” she whined, a hand rising to cover her mouth- as if it would hide what they were doing. “Don’t stop, sweet Gods do not stop, ah-right there!” Her thighs tensed around his hips, her cunt pulsing around his cock. Oh, she wouldn’t last long- but that was fine.

He would.

His fingers dug into her hips as he pressed close, hips grinding against hers. A moment to catch his breath- and to have her last just a touch longer. Being so close, he could just… Tongue lolling out, he licked a slow stripe up the valley of her breasts, drawing a surprised gasp from her lips, a breathless smile rising to settle across her features. “I could stay like this for ages,” he murmured against her skin, pressing lingering kisses to the smattering of scars across her chest- small, given by shrapnel during their darker days, “just like this, fucking you until you cried, until you can’t remember your name.”

Tobirama shifted her hips, brow furrowed as Madara spoke. She could hear him, certainly- could understand him, but the words didn’t register, not with how close she was to her own end. “Then do it,” she whispered, reaching down to cup his cheeks, drawing his face up- and for once, didn’t flinch away from the triad of tomoe within his ruby gaze. “Make me forget my name. Make me only remember yours.”

Something seemed to switch, then- as Madara studied her flushed features, the way her hair spread out beneath her head like a silver halo and wings. Leaning in, he captured her lips in a slow, sensual kiss that ended in him nipping at her lower lip as he shifted, his hands smoothing up her sides before settling atop the blankets, holding his weight up. This position was far more intimate than their previous positions, yet he found that it didn’t bother him. No, rather, he preferred this- to see her face so clearly, to hear her whispers of his name as he began to thrust once more. Her legs shifted, coming to settle around his hips, her ankles crossing at the small of his back.

Closer, stirring the embers of the flame that had been waiting to come to life for some time, now. What had been a small campfire was quickly spreading, consuming like a wildfire, flames licking at their skin, settling in their veins.

His lips brushed against her chin as her head tilted back, the position allowing for Madara to push deeper. “Tobirama,” he murmured, brow furrowing. Perhaps he wouldn’t last long, not now, not with how she gripped his cock. “By the Gods,” he gasped softly, hips rolling, chasing both hers and his own release. Her hands reached up, one tangling in thick onyx locks, the other scrapping blunt nails down the expanse of his back. The sharp shock of pain drew a surprised groan out of him, much to her amusement.

“Good boy,” she teased, only to gasp a moment later at the feeling of teeth digging into the sensitive flesh of her neck. “Mad-” her voice cut off by a loud moan as he moved his weight onto one arm, his free hand slipping between them to brush against her clit. Wordless sighs and moans spilled free as she rolled her hips against his, creating a wonderful fiction that had them both beginning to become consumed with the flames that threatened to burn them alive.

Madara pressed heated kisses along her throat as he felt her shudder beneath him. “Close, darling?” He murmured in her ear, lips brushing against the shell as she whimpered. “Will you be a good girl and come for me, then? Come around my cock like I know you want to?” His voice was no longer smooth, growing more haggard as his own completion began to burn at the base of his spine. “Come on, Tobi, you know you want to.”

“Shut- shut up,” Tobirama panted, even as she tossed her head back as he gave a particularly hard thrust. So close, so close. “Don’t stop, Madara- oh- oh, there! Please,” her voice pitched into a whine as her hand abandoned his hair to clutch at his back. Her walls pulsed around him once, twice, three times before she stilled, her back arching, mouth dropping open to release a sob of his name, tears spilling free at last from garnet hues.

Madara pushed himself up to watch, searing the image of her coming around his cock into his memory. The way her cheeks were flushed red, her brows furrowed, her nose scrunching up- she was beautiful in that moment. She was always beautiful, but this was a new type of beauty, something so delicate and precious that he hadn’t ever imagined being privy to. He moved slowly, the thrusts dragging against her walls, dragging out her pleasure and inching him close to his own. It hit suddenly, coming over him like wildfire consuming brush that lay in its path. He stilled above her, his head hanging low as he groaned out her name like a prayer.

She lay beneath him, panting and whining at the feeling of him filling her- hot, so very hot, it threatened to send her over the edge by the feeling alone. Shaky hands reached up to brush through surprisingly soft onyx tresses as he began to slowly gather himself. A moment longer, she thought to herself- let this last for a moment longer. The feeling of him settled over her, shuddering, panting, the heat that radiated from his skin so very pleasant, it had her relaxing into her bed.

But all good things must come to an end. Madara was careful as he pulled out, rolling his weight to the side to settle beside her with a breathless laugh. “Oops,” he hummed, reaching over to drag his fingertips along her thigh, watching as her leg jumped. He traced the red tattoo up, along the top of her thigh and onto her hip. “Was I supposed to pull out?”

“Doesn’t matter,” she murmured, reaching over to brush her fingers against his cheek, brushing away his hair. So messy… “Mito taught me how to make tea that will… Ensure it won’t take.”

“How soon do you need to drink it?” An innocent question as he rolled onto his side, propping his head up on his palm.

Tobirama hummed, shifting and grimacing at the feeling of his seed leaking. Oh, that’s why she hated it. “I’ll have it with my breakfast,” comes the simple response as she dips a hand down between her thighs to drag her fingers through the mess. “No wonder why there are so many of you Uchiha,” she comments idly.

A snort escapes Madara as he sits up, gaze drifting to the apex of her thighs. “Could always clean it up for you,” his fingers tap a slow rhythm on her thigh.

“Who said I wanted to be cleaned up?” Tobirama shoots back, legs slowly spreading. “Or are you just a one-and-done kinda guy?”

A grin spread across Madara’s lips as he slipped back between her thighs, pressing kisses along her stomach. “Do I look like the kind of man to leave a woman unsatisfied?”

“No,” she sighs, reaching down with her clean hand to brush his hair back from his face. “I feel that I will never be unsatisfied with you around- oh!” The feeling of his tongue brushing against her slit had her jolting in surprise, a chuckle rising to meet her ears.

Fires are awfully hard to extinguish once they grow out of control and consume everything within its sight.

[nardo-headcanons]

Sorry for bad formatting! I’m on mobile! Also English isn’t my native tongue sry

Thanks to @seikosenju for requesting!

Short Comfort Scenarios for Madara and Tobirama!

Fluff, light angst, grief, sfw

Pronouns used: she/her

Comforting Madara Uchiha after the loss of Izuna

Madara sat on the stairway of his porch, a storm brewing around him; resembling the hurricanes he felt in his heart. Like a sweeping wave trying to throw him around like a pebble on the ocean floor. Why was he feeling that way? He wasn’t supposed to have thoughts like these. Why couldn’t he be.. normal?Raindrops were hammering on his skin. But he didn’t care. Madara felt an indescribable, agonizing feeling.

And it wasn’t because of the death of his younger brother, he was angry at himself. He had seen his cold, lifeless body being lowered into the ground. He had seen the surprise and terror on his face when he was struck by Tobirama’s deadly blow. And yet, he did not want to acknowledge what had happened. Izuna is still out there somewhere, he can’t be gone forever. Yet the only thing remaining were his eyes, now a part of his big brother.

He remembered training during a storm similar to the current one, not stopping until he had mastered that Jutsu he wanted to utilize. Izuna would then come into the muddy inner patio of the Uchiha mansion. “Madara, father says you must come inside now, it’s no use training in the rain like this” Madara ignored him, still practicing hand signs. Izuna crossed his arms. “Get inside or you’ll catch a cold, idiot!”

Now there was no one that could convince him to come inside. Anyone who tried to cheer him up was either ignored or sent away. The ones that didn’t left him sitting in the cold rain all day, as they thought, Madara had taken Izuna’s eyes by force.

He sensed someone behind him but didn’t bother to turn around. Footsteps approached him along with the sounds of raindrops falling on an umbrella. “Haven’t I made myself clear?! I don’t need anyone telling me what or how to-“ as he realized it was y/n, a girl who attended Izuna’s funeral, he fell silent.

She sat next to him, shielding him from the rain with her umbrella, shyly looking into his direction. She inhaled to talk, but when she saw Madara still focusing the ground in front of them, she ceased. Minutes, feeling like hours, were passing by. Y/n, collecting all her courage, uttered to him: “You know, everyone grieves in their own way. I just don’t want you to catch a cold, you know? Please don’t forget to take care of yourself, you deserve it!”

Madara didn’t want to admit it, but the kindness and sincerity of y/n’s words touched him deeply. It wasn’t often people aside from his little brother showed genuine care. He felt his eyes warming up, becoming hotter and hotter, filling with tears.

After an eternity of bottling up his emotions, he allowed himself to cry for the first time in a while.

Taking care of a wounded Tobirama

“It’s always those darn Uchihas..”, Tobirama groaned. After battling the Uchiha, he was deeply wounded, with every joint and muscle fiber aching. “Tell me about it”, y/n answered while tending his wounds. Her expertise in medical jutsus allowing her to heal his wounds quickly and efficiently. While Tobirama recounted to her about the battle, y/n pulled a little glass bottle of iodine solution out of her medikit. After he had finished his story, y/n smiled softly at him. “Now, this might hurt a little bit, I’m sorry” A loud groan emerged as she poured the solution over his bleeding wounds. “I’m disinfecting your wounds before healing them so you don’t have to deal with later complications”

When she used the mystic palm technique, Tobirama could feel his energy levels returning to normal. He closed his eyes, trying to enjoy the brief moment of closeness he had with her. Her touch was so gentle and loving, making him forget his anger and bitterness for now. After y/n bandaged him up, he got up quickly, trying to maintain his tough persona.

“Well, y/n. Thanks for your care.”

Flustered at him looking directly at her, y/n’s cheeks went a little red.

“Come see me anytime”

[ellorypurebloodculture]

FSF

Tobirama Senju (Courting/Omiai)

Senju Tobirama kneels in seiza on a zabuton beneath a sakura tree, awaiting whomsoever the Daimyo's matchmaker has chosen to be his companion for this omiai; he would rather be anywhere else than where he currently is, but denying the Daimyo's whims has never served any shinobi clan well politically--the Senju Clan, even as great as they are, cannot afford to anger the Daimyo of Fire Country.

His kimono has seven layers--almost so many as to impede his movements, which is unacceptable--and the kanzashi in his silver hair are needlessly extravagant; Tobirama can adapt to any situation, for he is a superb shinobi, but he does not enjoy such frivolities--food and medicine are a much wiser and more efficient use of the clan funds.

The footsteps behind him are silent, which does nothing to disguise the identity of the person approaching him--not when Tobirama has felt Uchiha Madara's chakra burning like a raging wildfire against his senses for as long as he has lived.

"Lord Tobirama," Madara greets, his wild mane tamed with gold bells and glass-blown hair pins, and a wealth of smug delight in his chakra as he kneels on the zabuton beside Tobirama's--a perfectly acceptable distance between them for civilians, but much too close for a shinobi.

As a thread of Madara's chakra snakes out to tease across Tobirama's own, he cannot help but wonder what great service the Uchiha performed for the Daimyo without Tobirama learning of it to request a boon as frivolous as this--for, it is now apparent what led to the Daimyo's decree for Tobirama to present himself at the capitol for omiai--and strictly reminds himself not to give into temptation as he inclines his head and says, "Lord Madara."

[lordsecondsenju]

There was very little time for Tobirama to think as he could hear and sense the approaching footfalls of the enemy. What had been a normal mission to the borders to scout and make sure that nothing was out of the ordinary had now turned into a desperate battle for his life. And things were not going in his favor.

While patrolling a small section of the border, he had stumbled upon a group of hunting Uchiha. Or, they had stumbled upon him. He had sensed them coming, but he still couldn't catch them before they struck, and he'd taken quite a few wounds- both lacerations and burns- before he'd been able to get away. Some of his clothing wash shredded, and even his armor had been damaged in a few places, though those wounds underneath the armor were mostly superficial. There was also the nasty head wound he'd received when he had been knocked to the ground by a tripwire. It bled just above his right eye.

The blood loss was starting to get to the albino, and he stumbled behind a tree. Focusing on the seal he'd stored in his lab at home, he had enough wherewithal to put his hands together, almost like a prayer as the footsteps grew closer. As no less than eight Uchiha hunters began to surround him. 'Let this be enough.'

With a final breath, he activated his jutsu.

However, when he opened his eyes, he didn't recognize the area. Or the sounds. He was laying flat on his back, looking up at a sky lit by a setting sun. Funny, it had been midday when he'd run into the Uchiha. Had he passed out? No, he couldn't remember losing consciousness, and nothing about his body sent up signals that he had. Bizarre. He sat up and winced, holding the worst of his still bleeding wounds. He was going to get quite the talking to from his elder brother about not abandoning the mission right away when he realized he was outnumbered so heavily. He realized that the soil underneath him was now damp with his blood. Fantastic. He didn't realize he was bleeding so heavily. Could he even stand without getting lightheaded? Only one way to find out.

With a grunt, Tobirama was able to haul himself to shaky feet, looking around. A small garden. He was in a garden. Not his lab. Well, this was a problem already.

Closed for @senjumimi

[justsomeoneunordinary]

hi! for the prompt list, either 19 with Izuna, or 9 with Tobirama?

Thank you for the prompt! 😘😘 Prompt is from this list (I still accept more).

——————

“In my defense, I really wanted to.”

The unimpressed glare Tobirama gave Izuna would’ve been infuriating on any other day, but the twitch of annoyance in his left eye sent a jolt of giddiness through Izuna’s body. Peace between their clans had made his daily life bleak and boring; he didn’t miss war, and certainly didn’t miss all the funerals that war brought, but he did miss the challenge that the crossing of his sword’s blade with Tobirama’s offered him over the years. Fighting the Senju was many things, but never boring.

Getting on Tobirama’s nerves to the point his left eye finally started doing its little twitch of barely suppressed irritation was one of the few joys he still had left during these times of sunshine and rainbows his brother and the bark-brain practically oozed out of their pores nowadays.

It took quite some prodding to get Tobirama to that point (Hashirama was exceptionally good at it), so every time Izuna managed such a feat, he performed a mental victory dance. Just like he was doing now.

“Aren’t you supposed to be an elite ninja and a spymaster?” Even the tone would’ve driven Izuna up a wall on any other day, had it not been for the fact that Tobirama audibly gritted his teeth as he all but hissed at Izuna, clenching his hands into fists as if to prevent himself from strangulating Izuna on the spot.

Izuna kept the grin spreading on his face at bay with some effort and fake-innocently fluttered his eyelashes. “Why, I’m merely keeping you on your toes, Tobi-kun” (—ever since Izuna found out Tobirama was a few days younger, he hadn’t stopped making fun of it, even if it earned him a kunai aimed at his face more often than not—) “lest you grow stagnant in these quiet times of peace.” The way Tobirama’s face turned red in anger only made Izuna’s grin widen. It was a wonder he didn’t start steaming out of his ears.

“By ringing the alarm on an espionage mission?!”

“Well, what was I supposed to do? Walk past the giant bell and not strike it with the hammer?” One could hardly blame Izuna for giving in to that temptation, really.

“Yes! What are you, five?!”

“My, my, Tobi-kun, one could think you’re too scared to fight some lowly Iwa-nins,” Izuna couldn’t help but taunt, the imperturbable grin now virtually splitting his face in half.

“Why, you—” but before Tobirama could get any closer, he suddenly froze in his movements, furrowing his brows in concentration and muttering, “Fuck” under his breath before jumping off the roof without any warning.

Well, that was rude. Izuna didn’t need to ask what that was about though, because at that moment he heard the approaching footsteps and had to silently agree with Tobirama’s previous statement: fuck indeed.

Without further ado, Izuna leaped after Tobirama, caught the kunai Tobirama had aimed at him mid-air, and threw it with precision into the throat of one of the pursuing shinobi behind him. Heh.

“I hate you,” Tobirama growled, still in a dive.

“Aw, I’m so happy to hear that! It’s been a while since you told me that; I almost started to think you liked me now.” For good measure, Izuna blew him a cheeky kiss. The way Tobirama’s left eye twitched anew felt like victory. Maybe he’ll even do a real dance once they’ve dealt with that hassle Izuna had impulsively caused.

[rainbowfey]

Day 6: Jutsu gone right

This is a series written for @madatobiweek.

This time, Tobirama didn’t even try to suppress his curse. He quickly retreated, getting at least a small distance between him and Madara whose face was twisted into a downright heinous grin. He carelessly stepped onto the outer line of the spell circle, seemingly not even noticing it. His lips curled into an amused smile when he stared at Tobirama.

“Look at you, feeling so strong with your ridiculous little book and your even more ridiculous spell circle. Even if I was a demon, you wouldn’t stand a chance with this crap,” he said, his voice changing more with every word. Had he sounded like a poor imitation of Madara before, his voice now took on a whole new quality. Even his intonation of the words changed and if Tobirama had closed his eyes, he would have never known that it was Madara standing in front of him.

“Well, even if you’re not a demon, you sure as hell aren’t Madara either,” Tobirama said, straightening his shoulders. Whatever this was, it was clearly malevolent and somehow, this steeled his resolve. He wasn’t keen on harming Madara but he would if he had to in order to keep the village safe.

Madara shrugged and gave another high, clear laugh that sounded nothing like him. In fact, it didn’t even sound like a man at all. “You might be right about that,” he chuckled. The corners of his mouth twitched in amusement but his eyes remained entirely blank.

Tobirama slowly shook his head. He had been so sure that he was dealing with a demon that he hadn’t even considered any other explanations. The thing had made it clear with its last statement that it was indeed not Madara but yet he was fairly sure that it was his body. Tobirama tilted his head and quickly thought it through. Whatever the thing was, it didn’t seem to want to attack him immediately. Instead, it seemed more like a cat that wants to play with its prey before killing it. And this was something he could take advantage of. He crossed his arms and glared at the thing that was not Madara. “So, how do you control his body?” he asked, tensely awaiting a reply.

And the thing walked right into his trap. “You know, it’s not even that tricky,” it said with a bubbly laugh. “But I’m not going to share my secrets with you.”

Tobirama forced himself to remain expressionless while triumph rushed through his body. This was the confirmation he had needed. He was indeed standing in front of Madara himself, just that his body and mind were controlled by someone or something else. But his triumph quickly faded away when he realized what that meant. If this body was indeed Madara’s body, he couldn’t fight properly if he wasn’t willing to risk Madara’s life. And even though he couldn’t stand him and would prefer to never have to interact with him again, harming Madara wasn’t an option unless there was no other way to keep the village safe.

Tobirama gritted his teeth and tried to control the thoughts and ideas rushing through his mind. In the meantime, the thing had stepped closer to him, a condescending smile on its lips that would’ve looked exactly like Madara if it weren’t for the blank stare in his eyes. “Oh, you poor thing. Look at you trying to come up with an escape plan,” it sneered.

Tobirama glared at it and weighed his options. It was possible that the thing was lying and it was indeed a demon but that didn’t seem very likely to him. Since it seemed to entirely override Madara’s own mind, it was also unlikely to be some kind of infection or parasite. Whatever it was, it had to be something clinging to Madara’s mind or body – and there was one thing Tobirama knew that would possibly be able to make a difference.

He retreated into the shadows and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the footsteps coming closer. He focused all his willpower on what he wanted to achieve and quickly formed three hand seals. The footsteps grew closer and he opened his eyes again, only to spring forward and tap Madara’s hand that was already grasping at him. He felt Madara’s warm breath on his skin when he stopped mid-movement, his dead eyes wide opened.

Tobirama slowly took a step back and then another one, keeping a close eye on Madara who looked like he had been snap-frozen. It was an eerie sight and even though it was exactly how it should be, it sent a shiver down Tobirama’s spine. Up until the last second, he hadn’t been sure whether his genjutsu had worked. It was a rather simple one but it was easy to make a mistake when in a tight corner. But since Madara didn’t move a single muscle, he quickly moved on to the next step of his makeshift plan. The second genjutsu required more hand seals and in his haste, he almost forgot one of them. He managed to catch himself in time and finished the sequence of hand seals just in time for Madara’s eyelids starting to flutter. His first genjutsu had been a rather simple method to paralyze the opponent for a short while during which one could prepare his next move. Madara himself would have never let himself be affected by a jutsu as simple as this one but apparently, the thing wasn’t as good of a shinobi if one at all. Tobirama’s second genjutsu was the one he set his hope on. He had barely finished the last hand seal when Madara burst into action, charging at him with his teeth bared. Tobirama had to force himself to wait until the last second, clumsily dodging his attack so that Madara’s fist only grazed him. But when they touched, Tobirama hissed at him – and Madara started screaming when flames set his body ablaze.

Tobirama quickly backed off and his hair stood on end when he watched Madara squirming and writhing, screaming in agony as the flames consumed his body. And even though he knew that it was only a genjutsu, his heart dropped to his guts while listening to the splitting screams. He knew that the flames that were only visible to Madara engulfed his body, burning him alive. Only the certainty that the real Madara would know that this was only a genjutsu kept him from ending the jutsu right there and then. Madara dropped to his knees, writhing in pain while his screams took on a desperate tone. But suddenly, his whole body jerked and his eyes widened. Tobirama’s heart skipped a beat when he suddenly saw a pained expression in Madara’s eyes.

“Don’t … stop … now,” Madara squeezed out, fighting for air.

And just like that, the expression left his eyes again, leaving behind the eerie blank stare that didn’t want to fit the panic in his face. He groaned, digging his nails into his skin, leaving bloody marks all over his body when he clawed at the imaginary flames seething around him.

Tobirama’s hands started trembling and it took him everything he had to stand by and watch as Madara squirmed in pain, his screams getting more high-pitched with every passing moment. But when he started clawing at his face, Tobirama couldn’t hold himself back anymore. He jumped forward and grabbed Madara’s wrists, keeping him from scratching at his face even more. Before Tobirama had reached him, he had already scratched his cheeks, forming two red lines from his eyes down to his jaw. Two thin trickles of blood ran down his face, almost like bloody tears. He struggled against Tobirama and almost broke away from him, but Tobirama’s grip was ironclad. He flinched when Madara’s head jerked up, shaking violently. Something flickered in his eyes and suddenly, he saw the anger and despair in his gaze.

Madara’s nails dug into his wrists as he gasped, “Destroy it … destroy the amulet!”

And only a split second later, his eyes were bottomless pits again. But this time, the thing seemed to notice Tobirama and it clawed at him, hissing hatefully. “You’re going down with me,” it snarled, its fingers almost piercing Tobirama’s skin.

He yelped and tried to pull back but this time it was the thing holding on to him, keeping him from breaking free. One hand clasping his arm, it freed its other hand and pulled something from Madara’s pocket. Tobirama threw himself back when he saw the silver of the kunai flashing in the moonlight. A sharp pain shot through his body when the kunai slashed his skin, barely missing his throat. And with the movement of his arm, Madara’s jacket opened a crack, revealing a silver amulet with an obsidian in the middle of it.

Tobirama’s eyes widened and the thing followed his gaze. When it saw the amulet, it hissed furiously and shoved him away. Tobirama stumbled backwards, his gaze still fixed on the amulet. Thoughts raced through his mind and he barely managed to dodge the thing’s next attack when it charged at him, swinging the kunai wildly. For a moment, he thought about explosion seals which would most definitely destroy the amulet – but also Madara himself. And when the thing attacked him again, he finally had an idea. He quickly retreated until there was enough distance between them. And while the thing raised its arm, aiming for his chest, Tobirama formed five hand seals.

Tiger, rat, horse, snake, dragon.

Then he clasped his hands and a stream of water shot out of his mouth, thundering against Madara’s chest, bringing him to his knees. The faint crack of metal was almost drowned out by his splitting scream. In the same moment, something hit Tobirama’s shoulder and he staggered backwards, wincing in pain. He allowed himself a quick glance at his shoulder and cursed when he saw the kunai that had pierced deep into his shoulder. After he had made sure that his injury wasn’t immediately threatening, he quickly looked up – and froze when he saw Madara laying motionless on the ground.

“Fuck,” Tobirama squeezed out and rushed towards him. For a split second he considered whether this could be a trap but he had to make sure that Madara was still alive. He had tried to keep his jutsu weak enough so that it wouldn’t cut right through Madara’s body but in the heat of the moment, he wasn’t sure whether his plan had worked out.

His heart started thundering in his chest when he dropped to his knees next to Madara who was laying on his back, his eyes closed. Tobirama quickly put two fingers on his neck, searching for a pulse, while hastily opening Madara’s jacket with his other hand. The jacket revealed the amulet that was cleanly broken in two pieces, the crack running right beside the obsidian, but Tobirama shoved it aside carelessly, desperately palpating Madara’s chest. Relief washed through his body when he couldn’t find any injury except for where Madara had clawed at himself, leaving bloody streaks. Tobirama closed his eyes and held his breath, fearfully focusing on his right hand. And slowly, very slowly he started to feel a faint heartbeat under his fingers. He carefully pulled his hand back and looked at Madara’s face for a moment. He was still unconscious but Tobirama could see his chest moving softly with every breath.

With a sigh of relief, he let himself sink down next to Madara and closed his eyes for a moment. The sharp pain in his shoulder grew with every minute and he clenched his teeth, grabbing the hilt of the kunai with his other hand, trembling at the thought of what he had to do next. He took a deep breath and pulled at the hilt. Tobirama couldn’t stifle the groan when the kunai slid out of his flesh with a squishing sound. He dropped the kunai to the ground next to him carelessly and pressed his hand on the wound, his blood feeling warm against his skin. He needed something to bandage the wound immediately, otherwise he’d not be awake much longer. He had already lost quite a bit of blood during the fight but now that he had removed the kunai, the wound was bleeding heavily.

Tobirama had just made the decision to rip the other sleeve of his jacket off when he heard footsteps approaching rapidly. He barely had the chance to lift his head and recognize who was running towards them through his increasingly hazy field of vision when he already heard someone screaming at him.

“What the fuck is this about?” Hashirama’s voice thundered through the night, drilling into his skull and Tobirama winced. He blinked wearily and somewhere in the darkness above him he could see Hashirama’s horrified face.

“It’s not what it looks like,” he muttered, his voice sounding more washed-out with every word. His body started feeling cold and suddenly he felt the urge to lay down next to Madara and close his eyes.

“What’s going on?” his brother asked and Tobirama thought about replying but he couldn’t find the resolve in himself to do it. Instead, he shrugged helplessly and yelped when another wave of pain surged through his body at the movement.

Hashirama’s voice took on a concerned tone and Tobirama saw him towering over him, his eyes wide opened. His voice was trembling when he asked, “Tobi, are you hurt?”

Tobirama blinked and he felt a hysterical chuckle bubble up in his throat. “I’m fine,” he mumbled, giving his brother a crooked smile.

The fear in Hashirama’s eyes was the last he saw before the world turned black and he felt himself fall.