Note: Explicit content, TW
Watching his wife anxiously beg forgiveness, Tobirama found her knitted brows and her watering eyes did nothing to awaken sympathy in him. Somehow, since they were first married, she always seemed to have the upper hand. Time after time, he found himself humbly hesitating when around her. Even if he was her husband and their patriarchal ways dictated he be the one in the lead, somehow, he rarely felt that he was.
He couldn't even say she imposed that on him. He often found himself enjoying it, finding it endearing when she playfully frowned, demanded, seductively backed him into a corner for a kiss, all the while being by two heads shorter than him. He let her take control, and his father's warning came to him at the exact moment he realized that.
Butsuma had told him months ago to be careful not to let her do what she wanted. Yet, it seemed she had done just that, long before she married him. No wonder Madara agreed so easily to marry her off into their clan. He was almost tempted to laugh. The bastard likely knew she wasn't chaste, and saw fit to give her to him.
An even more upsetting idea occurred to him: What if Madara was the one to take her purity? She spoke so badly of him that it felt personal. Tobirama sighed, hoping to watch his tone, as he really couldn't be sure of it yet.
"Was it Madara?" He asked simply, not bothering to care for interrupting her mid-sentence.
'What?" She whispered, sniffing. "No, no. He wasn't one of them—"
"One of them?!" The shout escaped him before he could get the time to think against it. "There was more than one man?! What were you before coming here? A handmaiden or a harlot?!"
Covering her mouth, her shoulders shook as she proceeded to sob breathlessly, threatening to leave his questions unanswered all the way to the tipping point of his patience. Having felt the urge to get away from her, he got up from the bed, looking down at her from where he stood.
The irony of his situation was impeccable, when he thought about it. He revered honor and nobility to be found in remaining chaste until betrothed, never even considering lying with anyone else. He never had to try for it, either. His late mother and Butsuma implanted such philosophy in him since childhood, and it stuck with him well into adulthood. Even Hashirama had given in to his needs before. But not him, not Tobirama. And in the end, he was the one married to a dishonored woman.
He would have laughed if it was another man taking his place.
"Well?" He urged, crossing his arms.
"The first one was— an honest mistake..." Her wails broke her sentence, her gaze daring to meet his only for a brief moment before dropping to the bed linen yet again. "I regret now, I shouldn't have allowed it b-but… I fell in love, or whatever I thought love was when I was younger…"
"Who was he?"
"A servant from a different household." She sighed. "But you have to understand—"
"No, I don't." Tobirama was quick to crush her idea of him having to understand anything. "So what of the others? How many were there?" Taking a step back, he leaned against the wall to listen. He had no intention of getting anywhere near her.
"Two more." She gulped, glancing up at him once more. "They were noblemen—"
"You've moved up in the world." He mocked dismissively.
"Not exactly." Her hand reached up to wipe her wet cheeks. She sniffed, frowning. "That boy's master found out about us, and…" Sighing heavily, she managed to lower her gaze even further. Her shoulders hunched, tense, making her appear even smaller than she was. "He wanted me for himself…"
Tobirama found himself rendered mute, feeling his anger immediately displace and be directed elsewhere. True, she had willingly shamed herself by giving in to whatever feelings she had for the man she claimed to have loved. But as much as the vision of her voluntarily giving herself to another man infuriated him, it was nothing compared to his rage at the thought of someone violating her. While he was kept busy thinking of all the things he'd do to hurt the person who did that to her, she spoke again, and he faced her.
"The third one was his friend. I'm not sure if he found out on his own or Ha—" She stopped herself from revealing the name, looking up at him for another nervous moment. "Or t-the first nobleman told him."
"Why would he let another man take you from him?"
"He didn't… They—" She bit her lip, delaying, as if she considered not saying any more. "The point is," Her throat tightened, making her voice hoarse. "I made a very stupid mistake, and have regretted it many times. I—"
"You will tell me everything." Tobirama frowned when she shook her head, covering her mouth yet again in an attempt to silence her cries. "What had they done? They forced you?" Her stubborn silence shifted part of his anger back to her. "Sumi…" He warned.
"They shared me, alright?!" She yelled, sitting up on the mattress, seemingly no longer caring whether she looked into his eyes or elsewhere. "However and wherever they pleased! They didn't even need to force me! They just threatened to tell everyone about the servant! All I could do was surrender. Don't make me say anymore… Just…" She sniffed. "Just arrange everything to send me back to my clan. I'll understand."
"How did you make them stop?"
"Mego did. She made me tell her because I was acting strange, and wrote a letter, threatening to tell their wives."
Sighing, Tobirama took a few steps to come closer. Sumi tilted her head to look up at him, her eyelashes heavy and damp with tears.
"I really understand. Once the clan learns of this, sending me back shouldn't jeopardize our treaty."
He shook his head in disapprovement.
"We haven't been married for too long, but you should know me better than that." Reluctant, as the mental image of his wife being had by other men still haunted him and possibly always would, he slowly let his hand travel to rest on her cheek. Warm, new tears tickled his thumb as they rolled down. "You don't really think I'd tell anyone? Much less, unmarry you and tell anyone?"
Closing her eyes, a sigh of relief left her lips.
"Thank you." She whispered, taking the hand that cupped her cheek and helping herself up with it. Tobirama watched her. Standing on the mattress she was of even height as him. Using her sleeve, she wiped her face as best she could. "May I kiss you?"
He felt himself frowning, not having expected that. Looking at her, he noted she looked very beautiful while crying for some reason, recalling he thought that once before too. As horrible as the things she went through were, they were past. She was his now, and she seemed to care for him. Tobirama definitely cared for her. He was determined to put everything she had confessed behind them.
She was a good wife, attentive, loving, passionate. She tried her best among his clansmen, and he knew for a fact almost everyone liked her. He gulped, trying to suppress the bitterness of his wounded pride.
"No. Not right now."
He would forgive her. He just couldn't yet.
…..
Nightfall was well on its way by the time Mego and Toya returned home. They joined the other Uchiha women in planting, went to tailor so one of Mego's dresses could be altered, paid her parents a visit and had dinner with her mother. The day was fulfilled just to her liking, and she headed to have a bath immediately, rushing to wash off the sweat and clean the residue mud from her nails.
Drying her hair just enough so it wouldn't drip, she threw on her silky nightgown and made way to her and Madara's bedroom. She was pleasantly fatigued, knowing she'd probably fall asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, however, there was still a conversation to be had with Madara.
"Good night, my lady." Toya gave one of her tender smiles once they reached the door of her room, appearing quite exhausted herself. Returning it, Mego faced her.
"Good night, Toya. Sleep well."
Upon entering her own chamber, she was surprised to see it was dark. Madara wasn't asleep since she could tell the bed was still made. It was empty. Letting herself in, she fumbled around the desk, managing to find a candle pretty soon. Having set it aflame, she turned around to get into bed. It was too dark and she was too sleepy to look for him. With her peripheral vision, however, she took notice of something unusual. The dresser was open.
Coming closer, she illuminated with the candle, eyes wide and her breath hastened at once. Madara's blue robes, his red armor, his sleepwear… All gone. Instantly she turned to look at the rightmost corner of the room, hoping to see the large fan and scythe he always carried. Gone.
A panicked gripe left her throat, as her hand came to cover her mouth in worry. She turned around, baffled, her mind racing in an attempt to find the quickest solution. If he had gone on a mission, he would have told someone. If he wasn't able to tell her where he was going, he always made sure to leave a note with a servant. Silly optimism possessed her, and she thought that maybe he had something very important or secret to do? Then he wouldn't tell just anyone. He'd tell Shime, or even Hashirama.
Subconsciously, she took a step towards the door to go see either of them, stopping in her tracks as it suddenly opened. Tall figure, lush black hair, red armor. Sighing, Mego felt herself shudder in relief. It was him.
"Where are your things?" She asked, her voice refusing to pitch louder than a whisper. Closing the door behind him, Madara seemed in no rush to answer. With a heavy exhale, he faced her.
"They're packed. I'm leaving." He said simply, patiently awaiting her reaction. "I waited for you to come home."
So, that was it, then. They had indeed invested themselves into this village for little over nothing. At the very least, it would be just the two of them who'd leave. The rest of the villagers would hopefully continue to live in peace. She went over to her nightstand, safely placing the candle there.
"Give me ten minutes. I'll pack a few things too. I supp—"
"You're not coming." His words made her halt all movement, her eyes focused on the shadows falling over his face. He couldn't mean that. "I waited to say goodbye."
A sad chuckle escaped her, and she shook her head, refusing to believe he truly wanted to leave her behind. "You can't make me s-stay." Coming tears made her voice break. "If you try, I'll just go after you alone."
"Surely you're aware you stand no chance out there?" She nodded.
"I'll follow anyway." She sniffed, feeling as tears were pooling in her waterline, threatening to fall. "So best just bring me along now."
Making his move, Madara slowly walked past her reaching the wooden desk and leaning back against it for support. Every movement was followed by the rattling of his armor. He bit his cheek, seemingly in thought. He shrugged his shoulders tiredly.
"Why?"
"What do you mean why?!" Mego hurried over to his side before she knew it. Grabbing his hand she held it in both hers. "I love you, I don't want to be parted from you!"
"You're doing well here! You have your parents and Sumi, you have reasons to stay!" She gulped when he yelled back, yanking his hand out of her weak grasp. "Why would you leave all that to go with me—I don't even know where I'm going! There's nothing I can give you!"
She could tell him. There would be no chance as right as this one, and it might as well be her last. She'd likely grapple with her words, feeling how her throat itched and tightened from holding back tears. Still, she could finally say it. Or maybe just kiss him. That would be to the point, and if he got mad he'd just leave her behind anyway.
"Exactly. You have no actual reason. You've just gotten used to me. But that's alright." Madara pushed himself away from the desk, accepting her silence for an answer. "You'll get used to me not being around just the same."
She found his eyes, even darker than usual in the weak candlelight. What if she does it and he hates her? She nearly shivered at the thought. He might be disgusted by the prospect of his brother's widow making such advances on him, and then she'd lose all hope of him taking her along. Her skin cowered once he stood tall before her, leaving barely ten centimeters between them. She looked up to face him.
"Obey me one last time, and stay here." He spoke softly, his hand coming to rest on the side of her neck. "You can be happ—" Her lips silenced his. She gave them a gentle kiss, not bothering to retreat after it ended. Instead, she let them linger, let their skins brush together for another long moment. Parting from him, she finally dared to open her eyes.
He was frowning, watching her intently, his hand still warming her neck. Her panicked heartbeat calmed down once she felt his thumb caressing her throat, and his head lowering to an angle where they could easily kiss again.
Mego felt her cheeks burning with all the improper ideas she was getting, blood rushing at the realization she'd finally get to act upon them. Returning her focus to his mouth, she gave him another short peck, and one more. Madara's free hand traveled over the fine silk, up her underarm and to her waist. The armor clattered as his arm came to hold her, pressing her against him and her whole body nearly limped at the excitement of being so close to him.
The silk of her gown grazed against the metal plates of the armor, and her body trembled at the touch, her breasts enjoying the rough, coarse contact. Watching him, she noted he was reluctant, his breathing uneven, excited. But he was holding her. He wanted her.
An uncontrollable smile came to her face, evolving into a mild laugh, and she let her hands cup his cheeks, feeling free to touch and gaze upon him as much as she pleased. His own expression smoothed, as his fingers left her neck and came to brush away damp hair from her forehead.
"Will you take me with you now?" She whispered.
He nodded, lifting her chin so their lips could collide once more. She gasped against him when his lips attacked hers, nibbling, licking, smacking against them. He seemed to have trouble containing his craving now that it came down to it just as much as she did. Wrapping her hands around his neck, Mego walked them back towards the desk, turning around so she could sit on the surface.
"We should get going." He breathed against her, his actions doing the very opposite from his words, as his right hand slowly reached under her gown, brushing upwards until it reached her outer thigh. Mego shook her head.
"We have time." She muttered lowly, observing his parted lips for a few moments before going back to them. She felt him chuckle once she slid her tongue inside, sensually massaging against his. His grip tightened around her, and he gently spread her legs, standing between them.
The plates scraped, and most likely bruised her sensitive skin, but she found herself growing even more aroused from it, adjusting her position to better feel it. Abandoning her lips, Madara moved on to her neck, spreading tender kisses all over, in perfect contrast to the sweet ache the armor caused for her inner thighs. His hands traveled to her shoulders, peeling the silk from her skin and letting it slip down on its own until it came to pool around her waist.
Sparing a second to look at her, he came back to hungrily kiss her neck. One hand landed on her bosom, caressing and toying with an erect nipple. The other made a brief return to her thigh, tracing upwards, making her breathing grow more and more erratic as it inched to her crotch.
When he touched her, she made him leave her neck so she could face him, watching him watch her enjoy herself. His fingers moved, tenderly teasing her before picking up their pace. Mego gasped and sighed lewdly under his gaze, leaning her head back at the waves of pleasure he brought her.
"Let me remove my armor." He said, offering a tiny kiss before parting, but she held him. She shook her head no.
"Leave it on."
"Huh." A tiny laugh escaped him, and he came back to her. She let her hand travel under the front of the armor, felt him through his cloth, touched him until she felt he was ready. Meeting his gaze, a sudden wave of shame reddened her cheeks. Their relationship had been platonic for so long that she couldn't help but see what they were doing as obscene, scandalous. She smiled. Like the love stories she so loved to read.
Pulling her closer to him, Madara let the front plates rest on her belly while he positioned himself between her legs. His hand lowered the waist of his pants just enough, and she sighed feeling how solid his sex felt against hers. Finding his eyes again, she observed the eagerness in them, smiling when his hand came to interlace their fingers.
A quiet grunt erupted from her throat as he began entering her. It's been a long time, and she needed a few moments to get used to the feeling. Once he felt her relax, Madara moved his hips, stretching her further, watching her reaction hungrily. He moved again. Mego closed her eyes to enjoy it as he kept going. Again, and again, gently, evenly, while the plates wounded her inner thighs with every movement.
She sighed at the blissful sensation of him inside her, while Madara moaned lowly, looking down at her through lidded eyes. His pace quickened abruptly, before he regained control and slowed down again.
"I love you." He whispered. "I don't even know—" A sharp exhale broke his sentence. "What I'd do without you."
Mego couldn't help but laugh, thinking back to his stupid attempt at leaving her behind. She squeezed their fingers together. She didn't say anything, she didn't have to. For now, she just wanted to surrender to the feeling of being fucked by him. They had forever to talk. She planned to never part from him, anyway.