Sypnosis: Madara’s attempt at courtship is awkward at best.
Madara is twenty-three years old when he starts thinking about settling down.
It’s not so much the societal pressure that pushes him to (even though he’s aware that when his parents were his age Izuna was already running around kicking and screaming), and it’s not so much Hashirama practicing how to conjure geraniums at will that prods him to either.
It’s looking forward to crashing the Senju brother’s lunchbreak, three days a week, and watching the crinkle of Tobirama’s eyes when he chuckles. It’s the poking and jabbing, deliberately and with glee, at Tobirama over a cup of tea, inciting him until he’s about to throw a kunai at Madara.
It’s a certain smile, a certain head tilt, from a certain hard-headed Senju that certainly sends his heart pounding like drumming song.
Then one day, it hits him.
Madara’s bent forward, winded from a pretty nasty kick to his sternum when he looks up. There is sweat streaking down the marks on Tobirama’s face. His eyes are slanted and focused, vicious red lined with dark black eyelashes. The grind of his teeth promises pain, and the stern line of his jaw promises efficiency.
Gritty, fierce and deadly.
Oh no. Madara chokes on air, breathless for a completely different reason. Oh hell no.
I made this post about what Inuyasha does when Kagome is asleep. So I had to make one about Kagome around her sleeping hanyou:
Watching Inuyasha sleep was something rare. Kagome always thought he didn’t need as much rest as the rest of the group.
With time she realized that it was not that he didn’t sleep as much… it was that he tended to wake up with such an ease that sometimes he looked like he was just resting his eyes.
Once she noticed this, identifying the moments he felt safe enough to sleep became her goal. When they were in the road, it was almost impossible because it seemed that her being awake was enough to keep him alert. Even when she didn’t move. It intrigued her how easy he would focus on her as soon as her eyes were open. Maybe it was the way her heart raced every time her eyes focused on him. Maybe, it was the small sigh she let out every time she found his relaxed face, that happened a single second before he opened his eyes and they zeroed on her.
When they were home things were different. On the nights he came home late, after making an extensive round and finding no threats, he would go to bed first laying on his back with his arms and legs stretched around, covering the whole futon. She suspected it was because that way she was bound to move him to make room for her and he had to wake up.
But she enjoyed those rare nights, when he would sigh and stretch his exhaustion away, yawn until his jaw crack and then make that rumbling sound in his chest–that he insisted it was most definitely NOT a purr– before his eyes closed.
It was adorable how at the same time his eyes closed, one of his ears would always turn in her direction. It sometimes took long, and a lot of patience from her to remain immobile as she waited for what happened after the purring sound, waiting for him to make the sound that announced he was dead asleep. It was the perfect mix between snoring and humming… it meant that as long as she didn’t make a loud sound she could admire and sometimes explore his sleeping form.
Usually she kneeled beside him, smiling at the way one of his fangs would rest on his lower lip. The hardest part was to keep herself from touching him because the moment he felt her, the soft sound would end at the same time his eyes opened.
She never made it long, there was always something unbearably cute about him that made it impossible for her to stay away.
It could be the way he sometimes yelped softly in his dreams. That little thing could be the way he frowned and grumbled something in a way that resembled indignation, before going back to his peaceful sleep. It could be the way one of his ears would twitch and swivel around as if something was tickling it.
Sometimes it was the way he whispered her name tenderly and the corners of his mouth went up in a soft smile, it always filled her chest with warmth and love, and almost always led to Kagome coming closer to his face to whisper his name before snuggling to his side, action that was answered by Inuyasha turning to the side and throwing and arm and leg over her to pull her closer and burrow his face on the crook of her neck doing that not-purring sound.
But the only thing that was excruciatingly difficult to resist was when he turned to the side and started to thrash his legs, and arms around as if he was chasing something at the same time he barred his fangs and growled softly. On the rare occasions he did that Kagome couldn’t help but laugh, loudly. In the next moment he was awake but still growling, knowing what kagome laughed about. After telling her to shut up, repeatedly and increasingly louder each time until she stopped, he would grumpily open his arms with his flushed face turned to the side, wanting her to come to bed. And she always did. Happily snuggling into his embrace.