Ayyyy thank ya! And AH Uchiha daddy yes

Madara Uchiha NSFW under the cut

Every time, he convinces himself it’s no reason to lose his temper. Another battle lost only offers more insight, one of his father’s advisors said long ago. Unfortunately, as the years go by, Madara doesn’t settle for that.

Three weeks he had spent organizing the layout for this mission, only to see the entire plan fail at the cost of one of his scouts gathering wrong intel on the enemy. Perhaps in the grand scheme, losing this one battle is a mere scrape in his warfare strategy. It had only served as a means to take the perimeter of a large stream to have the upper hand in terms of landscape. It’s difficult for Madara to decide whether he’s angry because the inadequacy of his subordinates, or because he’s convincing himself that there’s no cause for complete outrage in the first place.

Ultimately, he decides on the latter, and returns to his home, body aching, head throbbing, but restless from some unshakable itch.

She’s waiting for him, as usual. He knows he should count himself fortunate to have such a tolerant and loyal companion, but tonight when she asks him about his day, how he’s feeling… he’s not grateful.

Doesn’t she see the tight expression on his face? Just as grave as the deep cut left on his jaw? And there are many more littering his body, accompanied by a pain that not even the medics could completely alleviate. There’s only one remedy he thinks he needs now.

When he remains silent, she moves to put a hand on shoulder, or maybe to hug him, maybe to kiss him. He doesn’t try to anticipate it.

As soon as she’s close enough, he pulls her in by the forearm and snakes a hand behind her waist. She’s caught off guard, of course. And while he’d usually offer her a moment to adjust, that consideration is far at the back of his mind.

He dips down, crushes his lips hard against hers. At first contact, the heat of frenzy takes over and he knows there’s little room for tact in this situation.

She catches on fast, startled by the impulsivity, but nonetheless happy to oblige. It’s rare that Madara allows his desires to push him this far, but it’s exhilarating, promising. She wonders what’s in store for her, feeling both eager and apprehensive.

He’s pushing her now, his weight pins her against the nearest wall. A hand slides behind her, travels down the curve of her back and squeezes her ass. She yelps against his mouth, and he takes the opportunity to bite her bottom lip, hard, until she’s afraid it may bleed. The pain subsides when he slides his tongue past her lips, and she briefly considers fighting it, only to present a challenge, but she knows it’s not a battle she’d win. Not when he’s like this.

With his mouth occupied, nipping and pressing over hers, his free hand roams. Down her side, against her thighs, stopping in the middle of them to grasp at the sensitive skin underneath her clothes. It pulls another surprised sound out of her mouth, followed by a moan that sends heat to his cock.

She feels the press of it against her abdomen now, hardening with every dance of their lips and every mewl he works out of her. His hot palm slides up and down between her legs, pressing teasingly against her clit. It’s enough to have her rocking against him, providing him with friction to set his own arousal into overdrive.

That’s when the foreplay comes to a halt. His clothes are stifling, his blood is pumping, mind a blur of hot lust. If he’s going to give in to this, he needs to do it now.

She doesn’t even perceive his hands grasping and pulling at her clothes until she feels bare, when the heat of her arousal meets cool air and sends goosebumps flourishing along her skin. His hands dart to her hips, twisting her around and pressing her against the wall.

His breaths come shallow and concentrated, body pulsating with hunger. One hand at her hip holds her fast while the other pulls and bends her down, just until her bare ass rubs against his clothed, twitching erection.

He grunts, the sensation driving his impatience. With a simple tug, his pants drop down his thighs, and she bites her lip as the tip of his hard cock rubs against her clit.

She bites back a whimper when he snaps his hips and thrusts inside her. The wet heat of her insides feels amazing, and he loves the way she contracts around him to acclimate. As expected, he gives her little time for that and sets a fast and rough pace, driving into her over and over, enjoying the sharp sound of skin on skin.

A spark of pleasure courses through his veins every time his hips spur forward and reach deep inside her warm heat. She hears his labored breathing, the occasional groan and hiss escape his mouth whenever her muscles tighten around him. When he grabs her hair she gasps, the sting of his grip pulling at her roots bringing back that discomfort. But it’s hardly a hindrance in her pleasure. She can feel the warmth building, can feel her body tipping over a boundary.

She cries out and he loves the sound of it. The slick heat of her insides makes his thrusting even easier, even more pleasurable. He peers down to watch as he shoves in and out, cock coated with her arousal, muscles gripping him tight.

His cock brushes every sensitive spot, drives in at the perfect angle, and her knees are weak. He tugs hard at her hair again, and is pleasantly surprised when her insides clench even harder. Even she’s amazed at her body’s reaction. She wants to rock back against him, but knows it’s best to let Madara’s hunger take its course, and take control.

Breath ragged, chest heaving, body tense with desperation, Madara takes her without restraint. This is what he needs. Seeking release in her tight heat and fucking away the frustrations.

Her legs tremble, endurance shattered by the relentless pounding that draws heavy moans and cries from her lips. The hand still curled in her hair tugs in tandem with his thrusts, the sharp sting fading into a background nuisance when the pleasure creeps over her body. A hard grunt escapes his throat, a silkily moan falls from her lips. The iron grip of his hands will undoubtedly leave bruises, but she’s happy to carry the marks of his lust.

Fuck,” he rasps, barely able to muster the breath from his excruciatingly dry mouth. “Oh fuck­—“

In return, she attempts in vain to answer with a moan, but manages only a weak whimper that’s actually much more telling of her submission and ecstasy. Her legs tremble, body longing for climax but giving in to torment and enjoying the buildup. Such a strenuous effort should be enough to overwhelm the pleasure but it’s not, it’s impossible with what Madara’s giving her. She empathizes with whatever frustration drives this desperation through his hard thrusts alone.

It almost makes her wish he comes home like this every day.

He fucks with reckless abandon, fast and brutal, pounding her body against the wall until that dull ache is hardly in her plain of existence. Her moans are like music to his ears, and they’re accompanied by a sweet cry as his urgent thrusts finally guide her to a hard orgasm.

She shakes and jerks, riding back into him to reach more of the pleasing, erratic heat. He fucks her through the heavy climax, grunting and moaning low when her walls tense harder and harder around his aching cock.

“Yes—“ he just barely whispers, voice so pungent with lust and exhaustion that he hardly recognizes it. It’s accompanied by a more merciless pace that shifts her dull pain back to life, and the press of the wall on her elbows is sharp, unforgiving.

He finally alleviates the pressure in order to step back and adjust, unfurling the hand from her hair so it can join the grip on her hips, using the leverage to pound into her at a new, deeper angle.

She cries out, alarmed by the burn of hypersensitivity, but nevertheless loving his wild thrusts. It’s a struggle to lay her palms flat against the wall for leverage but she does, only in order to find the right position to arch her back just as she suspects another orgasm gripping her body.

But she can already tell it’s a lost cause when sighs and heavy groans spill from his lips without restraint, all at once, rushed, unadulterated. He buries his cock all the way inside her with a quick snap of his hips, muttering obscenities, throwing his head back. Something that sounds like a low, strangled growl struggles out of his throat, then he’s shuddering. His hips jerk once or twice before he completely stills, waiting until his cock stops pulsating, waiting until he knows he’s filled her.

She can’t decipher all the sensations in her body. Greed, passion, heat, excitement. With the pleasure finally fading, she’s more aware of the burn inside of her body, the ache of her arms and legs. But she doesn’t know where the pain begins and the pleasure ends.

He slips out of her and she presses her legs together quickly after. The way he runs his glistening cock across her ass one last time is enough to make her shiver, then he brings his pants back around his hips and carefully tucks the sensitive length away.

Sweat threatens to fall into her eyes and she closes them for clarity. She hears him give one final, heavy sigh before he sinks forward and rests his forehead against the wall. His added weight is almost enough for her knees to give out, but luckily a strong arm slides across her waist and holds her close.

His body is still twitching with lingering pulses of heat and pleasure, and he can’t move. It’s much too hot, he’s much too sweaty. If his mind wasn’t so clouded by euphoria he’d probably have the sense to go bathe, to wash away the dried blood and now the dried remnants of his arousal, staining his skin and hers. But all he wants for now is this, and she doesn’t seem to have any complaints. So he rests against her and waits to catch his breath, no words spoken, and no words needed.