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Madara had had his eyes set on you for some time. He’d spent months trailing you, discovering your habits and intricately learning your routines like clockwork. He’d blatantly put himself in your orbit, making you aware of his presence with the level of comfort he’d gotten accustomed to; and you were none the wiser as to precisely how long he’d been in acknowledgment of your own divine existence.
”Is there any chance you can have an assessment of these done before the end of the week, Hashirama?” Madara inquired, handing over an egyptian-blue mushroom cap he’d stumbled across the other day while on a perfunctory stroll.
”I mean, I can, Madara… any reason as to why there’s such an urgency; though?” A brow of Hashirama’s was arched dangerously high into his hairline, curious as to what his dear friend was up to that required such an expedition from him.
”Just something for leisure.” Madara’s shyster grin was fleeting, coming across vague; yet relaying everything the Senju needed to know all-the-same.
”I cannot make any guaranteed promises, but I will try my best to deliver your results within a reasonably satisfactory period – old friend!” Hashirama was jovial, purposely avoiding prying any further and pocketing the specimen Madara wished him to examine.
”Good. You know where to find me when it’s ready? I should hope so, at least.” Madara was delighted about the wonderful news, having the utmost faith in his long-term friend to have results in a timely manner while hinting to be sought out when it was ready and hastily ending their conversation.
Three days went by with Madara’s mind borderline obsessed over what Hashirama might discover and come back with. He was thankful that he only had a mediocre routine now that he was solely a staple of the hidden leaf’s foundation, instead of some fearsome god of war striking terror into the hearts of other men. The moreover tamed nature of this newfound position provided him with the extra time he’d needed to cross paths with you, after all.
Speaking of…
You were so captivating, kneeled down and plucking wildflowers for the fun of it while Madara scrutinized you from between the gaps of the leaves he was peeking through. You moved with such grace, tucking an ajisai behind your ear and hoisting yourself to a stand after you were content with your pickings. The Uchiha’s scion was entirely entranced by you, his eyes never faltering from your receding form as you ambled back onto the pathway leading into Konoha.
Madara wasn’t too far behind you, venturing off towards the direction of his residence with a growing notion within the pit of his gut alerting him that he’d probably be needed there. Sure enough, he’d be correct when he rounded the corner to his stretch of road and Hashirama was idling as patiently as he could for him.
”Ah, Madara! I haven’t caught you at a bad time, have I?” Hashirama greeted with enthusiasm, his eyes and body language suggesting he’d been hopeful to have the opportunity to go over what he’d been studying the past few days.
”Not necessarily –“ Madara didn’t outright fib to his friend, he only chose to omit a few things…, ”Is there something I can do for you, Hashirama?”
”Awe, come on, don’t be like that, Madara! There’s no need for such formality! Besides…” Hashirama’s mood fluctuated, going from hyperactive to real hushed as he reached down into the depths of one of his pockets and withdrew a vial just enough for Madara to take a gander at.
”Now, that’s something you should’ve started with…” Madara’s tone matched his elation over the object taunting his pits, and he flashed Hashirama a Cheshire grin as he invited the Senju into his residence for further discussion.
”Tea?” Madara offered Hashirama a mug on the off-chance he’d want something a bit warm, coming around and into view so he could accept the cup.
”I’d be a fool to say no to something hot –“ Hashirama was appreciative… Well, more like his fingers were as they hummed in approval once they were being heated back to life after having been chilled to the bone awaiting Madara’s return in the nippy air outside.
”You’ve crushed it into a powder – I see.” Madara was swift to point out his observations over the ampoule stationed in the heart of his kitchen table.
”I also went a step further and had a liquid form manufactured, too!” Hashirama crowed, absolutely chuffed with himself over the speedy revelation of the mushroom’s nature… not that he was about to divulge precisely how feral he’d inadvertently made Mito after exposing her to the spores.
All he needed to know was that it was potent.
With his interests piqued, Madara inclined towards Hashirama and humbly requested a further explanation detailing just how he were to properly utilize his newfound goodies. He was prodigiously attentive as he was given the rundown, being forewarned of the dangers of overusing the substance and instructed on what dosage of each would be appropriate to use… given Hashirama wasn’t a daft man and was highly knowledgeable as to precisely why Madara had wanted this specimen examined by him.
He didn’t exactly skim over the side effects that came from consuming either (liquid or powder), delineating how the solution activated quicker than the other, and that both would extract the same result: yielding in an amplified sense of arousal, and an inebriated sense of being that could not be quenched until fornication transpired; promptly curing those afflicted.
A Cheshire grin graced Madara’s features, and to ensure Hashirama knew the full extent of his gratitude, he gifted him one of his finest bottles of sake before sending him back home to enjoy it with Mito’s company.
Madara bid his time luring you in with the charm he reached deep down for and eventually won you over with. He’d been on his utmost best behavior in regards to you in the following weeks after his courtship's success, too (and much to his dismay). He’d, also, been exceptionally attentive to the subtleties of your body language in the moments you’d gotten alone: sultry, yet coy and aloof whenever he’d attempt an advance towards you. Almost as if his time and efforts were some funny game to you.
It came as irksome when sentimental time shared together didn’t quite produce the results Madara had been after, and tonight he’d been intending on speeding things right along with the powder Hashirama had supplied him. The substance blended nicely into the tempura batter he’d whipped up earlier, and you were eagerly consuming every ounce of it he’d baked into what you were highly complimenting him over.
”I’ll bet you have many hidden talents, huh, Madara? This is wonderfully delicious – thank you.” You teased a bit, scooting your plate over and allowing your gut a chance to process what you’d just eaten.
”My pleasure… and, yes. Although, I’m not inclined to say what they may be. They are hidden talents – after all.” Madara humored you, clasping a hand around his unaltered drink and taking a swig of it as he waited for you to start feeling a bit off.
Which didn’t take too long.
It initiated as an unusually glacial chill you merely shrugged off as a fluctuation in the temperature. You were certain Madara was sporting a rather smug smirk beyond the double vision you tried rubbing away, and you squirmed a tad in your seat as your insides gradually warmed. A thin sheet of sweat dotted your flesh, while your cunt clenched around the nothingness you were suddenly becoming utterly desperate to change.
”Something the matter?” Madara feigned concern, offering you some water that you declined.
”No, I don’t think water is what I’m after…” You blurted, your eyes widening and resembling saucers over your rather saucy admission.
”Oh? Then what are you after that I can possibly provide for?” Madara’s tone held a glimmer of teasing, causing you to promptly fold a leg of yours over the other over the acute fun being had at your expense.
”Ah, ah! Be a good girl –“ Madara’s breath ghosted along the shell of your ear, inducing a deep shudder and forcing a needy moan to bubble up and out.
You weren’t entirely sure how you’d shedded clothing so quickly, and you weren’t even about to admit how much you simply wished for Madara to drive his cock right into your awaiting pussy.
”I’ll be anything you need me to be.” You sounded pitiful, and Madara took one of his hands and squished your cheeks together with it after ensuring your body was anchored beneath his on the table.
It was hard to fathom how you’d been splitting a meal over the very piece of furniture you were frisking each other up on less than thirty minutes prior, and Madara wasn’t too far behind you after having taken a sip of his own off your spiked drink. If he had to take a wager, he’d bet that the liquid had been the more mighty of the two based solely off of how badly he desired to break his table fucking you right into it.
”Good. Now you’re behaving the way I like.” Madara purred, hooking one of your legs around his waist while his other hand gave his shaft a few strokes – fully solidifying himself.
He glossed his tip along your slick seam, and your cunt suctioned him in without Madara having to exert much effort. The sudden kiss of his pelvis against yours evoked husky groans from both parties, and your other leg flew up to hug his waist as he continued to pound you into his table.
”Nngh, I’m so wet…” You kicked your head back, ignoring the dull throb in your dome and the smack it took as you pawed at the arms pinning your shoulders down, ”Fuck! keep it up and I’ll cream soon!” Your whine was shrill, and your eyes were dilated with tears to accompany your sobs that Madara licked right off your face.
”Not yet. I didn’t say you could cum, did I?” Madara abruptly stopped, still lodged so deeply within your sweet pocket and forcing you to quiver around him.
You moaned at the abrupt loss of Madara as he pulled out, and you weren’t permitted the time to comprehend being flipped and bent over before you felt him re-enter. You released a keen coo over being stuffed again, and your pussy gave a squeeze around his cock once you felt a hand of his press into your back: keeping you in place, just as he liked it.
His feet nudged at yours, silently requesting your legs spread a little more and rewarding you with a nip to your shoulder when you complied to his demands. Your nails did fine work leaving behind evidence of scuff marks, and the hand that sought purchase on and squeezed Madara’s thigh did little to ease his roughness with you.
Madara’s idling hand wasn’t gentle weaving into your tresses, winding the strands around his limb and pulling it taut enough to tug your head back to gaze up at him. It wasn’t sufficient that you were a blubbering mess squirming beneath him. No, he craved more contact with that voluptuous body of yours.
Snaking an arm underneath, he hooked himself and latched a hand onto a tit of yours: hoisting you into a standing position and plunging the deepest he’d gone so far.
Your mouth hung ajar, and your expression was one of sheer rapture as you squealed and chanted Madara’s name like a ritual; as if he were a god you were calling out for. He reveled in the way you screamed for him, rotating his hips again to slam up and into yours with enough force to briefly lift you up and off the floor. He was hasty about making you sing for him again, and his sharp thrusts did more than just make you shriek!
It initiated itself as a light trickle running down your legs. The orgasm paled in comparison to the ones you’d be having later, and Madara reached a hand of his down to scoop up some of your essence. He brought it up for you to inspect, too, rolling the substance between his fingers after having ceased his relentless pounding.
”What’s this? And here I was thinking you were being so good for me…” Madara wagged his fingers dangerously close to your lips, and a strained whine crawled out of you over it, ”I didn’t say you could do this, did I?”
Madara dared you to speak up, his grip around your torso tightening as you floundered to even come up with a piteous excuse for him. He chortled at your shame, and without forewarning you, Madara plucked you up (dick still plugging your core) and carried you back to his chamber.
Madara’s treatment didn’t differ once you were plopped down onto his mattress. Laying on your side, he straddled a thigh of yours and loosely dangled your other leg over a shoulder of his, enjoying the closeness and how deep the position allowed him to maintain as he jackhammered into you.
”Look at me.” Madara requested, his tone authoritative glancing down at your squinched expression being half-obscured by the mattress you attempted to burrow your face into.
It was easier said than done, but from your side you managed to shift your head enough towards Madara so he could gaze into your vast pools. The connection was electrifying, sending tingles down your spine and making your walls flutter around Madara’s cock. Another knot teetered on the cusp of snapping, and a hand of yours flew out to clutch onto Madara’s thigh as you struggled to withhold your impending release.
”I wanna cum, please let me cum!” You begged between the intervals where you weren’t spewing nonsense from that filthy mouth of yours, your nails biting into and drawing pebbles of blood to the surface of Madara’s leg.
It wasn’t enough that Madara had barely been granted consent. It wasn’t enough that he’d willingly taken advantage of your muddled mind. Oh, he’d let you cum – alright!
Madara was swift, shifting positions so that you were now on your back with your legs splayed for him and loosely dangling over his shoulders. He inclined forwards until your knees kissed your chest, and his knuckles dug into the mattress at your sides as he began his assault of your sopping pussy once more. He pounded until your screams were heard above the grunts and groans of his own, until the headboard of his dared to damage his wall.
Madara felt your walls hug him with a vicious squeeze that damn-near choked his cock, and with a few more pumps of his you were having to warn him that you couldn’t hold it in much longer. It didn’t matter, though, with how his shaft swelled as a marker of his own release around the corner.
”Cum for me, y/n.” Madara commanded through labored breathing, his tone a touch deeper and his eyes locked with your own.
Your wails of ecstasy reverberated around his room, and his name couldn’t quite leave the tip of your tongue: chanting it up until you felt the eventual pop and ejection of Madara emptying his spunk into you. Your look of surprise didn’t deter Madara from completely expelling his seed and teetering to a stop, hovering above you and glancing down to see himself ooze from where you were still conjoined.
You wriggled beneath him, your noggin spinning and trying to grapple with consequences of what the sticky substance trickling down your thighs meant as it dribbled down onto and stained the sheets below. Your legs still trembled around Madara’s neck, and the predatory look in his endless pits told you that this night was far from over.
”I may have forgotten to mention; I had no intentions of pulling out.” Madara chortled at your expense, earning a lowly groan from you before you were finding yourself being flipped onto your hands and knees, ”Don’t worry. You’ll be beautiful so swollen with my seed –“
You weren’t free to go, and Madara was determined to ensure you never would be again.