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Tobirama had not known what it was that made Izuna change his mind about the peace. Oh, she did have suspicions, but wasn’t sure she ever wanted to have them confirmed. So instead she just threw herself wholeheartedly into the negotiations, and browbeat any of the Senju Elders who brought up marriage as a way to seal the deal. Firstly, there was no way Madara, the clan head of the Uchiha, would agree to become Hashirama’s second wife, considering the loss in status that would be for the woman. And secondly, there was no way Tobirama would agree to marry Izuna, or Hikaku, or any of the other Uchiha that they pointed out to her. They all had the wrong bits for Tobirama’s tastes. Not that the Elders understood that. And she was absolutely not about to educate them on the matter. Hashirama would have her hide if she tried.
Fortunately, the matter was eventually dropped, and peace went ahead anyway. To the point that they had started to build a village together.
One of the first things constructed was a makeshift administration building, right next to the plot where the actual building would be built once they had quarried enough stone for the foundations. And in that building, Tobirama carved out a small corner for herself, where she had a desk, a chair, and a shelf. And about a gazillion scrolls, with topics ranging from proper bookkeeping, to blueprints of the sewage-system in the capital, with annotations on what would not work for the village and why.
This was where she spent most of her time, when she wasn’t out bullying the various crews into doing things properly and not cutting corners. Hashirama despaired mildly over her acerbic attitude, but he knew he could not persuade her to become more personable. It just wasn’t something she could be bothered with.
In fact, it was a bit of a deliberate choice on her part, to be so unapproachable and rough around the edges. It kept most of the would-be suitors at bay. And those that still dared to try she sent packing with a few pointed comments about their various failings as husband material.
Five weeks into the construction of the village, she noticed that Madara was watching her, and a part of her mind thought that maybe it had been going on for longer than she had realized. Though, in her defense, Madara was always hanging out with Hashirama, so Tobirama had subconsciously ignored the other woman, thinking that her brother would make sure she would not get a chance to harm Tobirama. Now she was not so sure anymore. Madara could probably be far more subtle and conniving than Hashirama could.
Sparing a bit of her attention to watching Madara back, she noticed that the Uchiha didn’t appear suspicious or anything. More like… curious perhaps? What was that about?
It continued for another three weeks before Tobirama’s patience finally ran out and she confronted Madara about it. She picked an open area set aside for residential buildings, making sure that they were in plain sight of at least twenty Senju and about the same number of Uchiha, while still being far enough away that they could not be overheard.
“Why do you keep watching me? I’m not about to do anything to jeopardize the peace now, surely you get that?”
Madara smirked. “Oh, it’s not about that.”
Narrowing her eyes, Tobirama’s lips pinched for a moment, then she growled out. “Then what is it? It’s getting annoying, having you on my back all the time.”
The smirk widened. “Oh, I’m not on your back. If I were, you would not be able to be this wordy.”
Tobirama’s mouth fell open and she just blinked. Had Madara just implied..? Tobirama’s cheeks felt warm, and she struggled against a desire to flee, to escape a situation that was clearly out of her control. What the hell was Madara up to? Surely she couldn’t be interested in Tobirama? Not in that way, right? That was…
Oh. Actually, it made a lot of sense. It explained why Hashirama and Madara never got together. Why Madara was still unmarried at the age of twenty-six. Why all the attempts at seducing the Uchiha clan heir into a scandal had failed over the years. The shinobi attempting the honeypots had been the wrong gender.
Finally feeling like she was catching her balance again, Tobirama folded her arms and glared. “If you think I’ll just spread my legs for you…”
Madara’s expression turned downright predatory. “Oh, I’m sure you will, given time. After all, you and I have a lot of things in common, and now that I know my attentions are not misplaced… It’s only a matter of time.”
Faltering in the face of such blatant confidence, Tobirama’s posture tightened. A part of her wanted to scream at Madara’s audacity, but another part, a shameful part, was sorely intrigued. In the end, Tobirama just spun on her heels and marched off. She was fuming, but whether it was because of Madara, or because of her own reactions, she could not tell.
After that incident, Madara kept looking at her, but now there was something a bit more… intense about the way she eyed Tobirama. Like she was imagining doing certain things to her. Or maybe that was just Tobirama projecting. Because she was struggling to keep her own mind in check.
Having found out that Madara shared her, ah, proclivities, it was almost like a door had been opened, and now Tobirama couldn’t close it again. Ideas kept spilling out. Most of them of a thoroughly indecent kind. And some of them sneaking into her dreams at night. It was utterly infuriating and frustrating. To top it off, Madara wasn’t actually doing anything that Tobirama could call her out on.
In addition, Izuna had started to behave strangely. She had caught him loitering around, looking almost—and she was using this word in the loosest sense possible—shy. It gave her a bad feeling, and she really hoped that it wasn’t some kind of fucked up sibling-rivalry, where she was considered a prize to be won.
Throughout all this, Hashirama appeared oblivious, happy to have his good friend back. Tobirama had noticed that Mito skulked around for the first three weeks, but she had stopped after that, and Tobirama was uncertain what had changed, as she had not heard about any confrontation between the wife and the friend. Had Mito caught on as to where Madara’s true interest laid? Possibly. She had made no comment to Tobirama about it, and given that Hashirama was still behaving just as before, she had probably not mentioned it to him either. Tobirama certainly was not about to ask. Especially as she could not point to anything Madara was doing that was suspicious.
This inaction went on for days, dragging out into weeks, and Tobirama had started to think that Madara wasn’t going to do anything. That it had merely been a taunt or a mind-fuck.
Then one day she arrived at the temporary administration building just as Madara did, and the Uchiha pushed the door open, and held out a hand, allowing Tobirama to precede her into the office. Except, she had not opened the door fully, leaving only just enough space for Tobirama to squeeze past her. And then she inhaled just as Tobirama was slipping sideways through the door, causing her chest to lift, and the tips of their breasts to brush against each other. In her shock, Tobirama froze, staring wide-eyed at the Uchiha clan head. Who smirked at her. “Tobirama-chan. I hope you have a lovely morning.”
Hurrying to move away from the awkward situation, Tobirama could still feel that smirk lingering as Madara watched her retreat. Throughout the rest of the day, that incident played on repeat in her mind, and she ended up getting less than half of what she had planned to do actually done. Going home and falling face first onto her futon, she was not sure if she wanted to scream into her pillow, or stuff her hand down into her pants for some relief.
In the end she did neither. Which was probably a mistake, since she woke up before dawn, gasping and so horny that she nearly quivered. The dream had been intense. And it was all Madara’s fault. This could not go on.
She waited until around lunchtime, when she could sense that Madara was alone in one of the cleared areas that had been set aside to become a training ground, then she threw on her fur-edged haori over her work-clothes and stomped towards that fiery chakra signature.
Emerging from the sparse treeline that remained, she froze. Madara had clearly been training hard, and at some point she had shed several layers of clothing, leaving her in just her chest-bindings and a pair of pants. Even her sandals had been discarded, in favor of digging her toes into the grass. With her hair flying wild around her head, rather than up in the usual ponytail, it made Madara look a bit like a yōkai, untamed and unapologetic.
Before Tobirama realized what she was doing, she had squeezed her legs together and made a little unf noise. Madara spun, hair whipping around her, and their eyes met. As soon as Madara was no longer in motion, Tobirama strode over to her, jabbing her finger into Madara’s chest, opening her mouth to cuss her out for being so disruptive to Tobirama’s peace of mind. That was not what came out however. Instead, Tobirama was distracted by the fact that the flesh underneath her fingertip yielded softly, wobbling slightly with each jab. Her eyes lowered from Madara’s face, missing the smirk spreading there. Instead Tobirama focused on the pale flesh that not even the bindings could contain adequately.
Uh… She was supposed to do something. Take Madara to task for being so busty. Wait, no! That was not… Tobirama forced her eyes up, and finally caught on to the smug look on Madara’s face. She wanted to wipe that smirk off that unfairly pretty face. Preferably with her mouth. Which… Well, Madara was strong enough to fight her off if she didn’t want this. Tobirama took a step closer, grabbing Madara’s biceps, sparing a brief thought to firm they were, then she crashed her lips against Madara’s.
The Uchiha made an appreciative hum, then her arms wrapped around Tobirama’s waist, pulling her flush against Madara’s body. The kiss was sloppy, inexperienced, but desperately hungry. And neither of them were eager for it to end.
Tobirama forgot about paperwork, workers needing oversight, Hashirama asking her to fill out some forms, and whatever else it had been that she should have been doing. All that remained was Madara, in her arms, eagerly kissing her back.
It took them another three weeks before they finally admitted that, yes, okay, they were seeing each other. In that time there were plenty of kisses in dark corners, or up in the trees, hidden behind the leaves, or even at one point, in the kitchen of Hashirama’s brand new home.
Then came that awkward moment when Madara realized that she would have to tell Izuna, because she didn’t want him to find out by meeting Tobirama in the hallway one morning.
That in turn led to Tobirama trying to find a way to tell Hashirama. Which… Was tricky. They put it off, time and time again. After all, they were shinobi. They could be sneaky. And… Neither of them were really comfortable with their brothers knowing. Not while things were so new.
Konoha sprang up around them, the seasons changed, Hashirama was elected Hokage, Mito had another kid, and Tobirama looked at the little boy, wondering what a kid with her and Madara’s features mixed would look like. That was the moment where she realized that this was it for her. That she loved Madara. And that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with the Uchiha clan head. Wanted to raise children with her. To be a family.
They were sitting on Madara’s futon, both naked and sweaty from vigorous sex, and Tobirama was combing through Madara’s hair with her fingers when she asked, completely out of the blue; “Would you marry me if you could?”
Madara spun around, wincing briefly as Tobirama’s fingers caught on a snag, but then she focused wide-eyed at Tobirama. “What? Would I..? Yes! Yes, I would!”
Wringing her hands a little nervously, Tobirama bit her lip, looking up at Madara through her lashes. “Ah, I may have… Made a proposal for a new law. One that, if ratified by the Hokage, will allow for same sex marriages. I mean, there’s precedent. The Aburame allows it, and their marriages have never been challenged by the daimyō.”
Tobirama fell flat on her back as Madara all but threw herself at her, kissing her enthusiastically in-between heaping praise on her. “You… wonderful… sneaky… brilliant… woman!”
Nothing more was said, but it was understood by them both that they were unofficially engaged. Three months later, it was made official, and four months after that, they were married. Hashirama cried. It was a very different picture than it had been when Tobirama first told him she was getting married to Madara. Then he had been surprisingly overprotective, first trying a kai, which had made Tobirama feel insulted on Madara’s behalf, and then he had stalked off to find his friend and question her. Tobirama had trailed after, ready to douse her anija with water if he became too aggressive.
There had been shouting from all three, but it quickly became clear that Hashirama was more insulted by the fact that they had not told him earlier than about the fact that they were actually tying the knot.
Izuna’s reaction had been a surprise. He had just raised an eyebrow and told Madara “Took you long enough, aneki.”
Then, while Madara was spluttering, Izuna gave Tobirama a small bow. “Welcome to the family, imouto.”
It turned out that he had caught on to Madara’s interest far earlier than either of them had suspected, and that he had never been shy, but rather embarrassed. Embarrassed to know that his sister fancied his rival, and uncertain what to do with that knowledge. In the end it was probably for the best that he had done nothing, and just trusted that Madara would figure things out on her own.
He did move out of Madara’s house, and Tobirama moved in. It took them surprisingly little time to arrange their lives in such a way that they slotted neatly together.
And everything was lovely. Though, that little thought in Tobirama’s head, about children, would not leave. That was how they found themselves, a year after the wedding, in a situation that Tobirama could not have predicted two years earlier.
Lying on her back, ass up on a pile of cushions, Tobirama’s head was bent so she could watch Madara between her legs. “Okay, this… feels so weird, and I do hope you realize that I’m only doing it because I love you.”
Madara nodded, not looking up from what she was doing. “Yeah, I know. And if it’s any consolation, I too feel weird about it. But if it gets us a kid… It will be worth it.”
“I still think we could have asked Hikaku.”
“But he’s not of the main line. The Elders wouldn’t approve.” Madara sounded very matter of fact, but the small wrinkling of her nose told Tobirama a lot about Madara’s feelings regarding the meddling of the Elders in this matter.
Letting her head fall back, Tobirama stared at the intricately carved ceiling. “Ugh, I know. But I still feel icky knowing that you are putting Izuna’s seed inside me.”
“Please don’t mention his name while I’ve got my fingers inside your pussy.” Madara’s tone was nearly whiny, something the Uchiha hardly ever succumbed to.
Not understanding why this was taking so long, Tobirama groused “Just press the plunger down. It won’t hurt me, and it certainly won’t hurt the seed. They are meant to be shot out of a tube after all.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Don’t get snippy with me! I’m the one with my ass up and a syringe inserted into my ho-ha.”
“Your… what?” It had worked, as Madara now sounded more amused than anything else.
Still, Tobirama wouldn’t let on that that was what she had intended. Scrunching her face up in a pout, she let her tone sound a touch plaintive. “Don’t laugh at me! I feel weird enough as it is.”
“Sorry, just… I’ll be good. Now, that was it. It’s done.” Madara threw the syringe to the side, to be sterilized in case they needed more attempts. Then she stuck her fingers back in. “Elder Umeko-san insists that an orgasm will help pull the seed further in, so just lie back and relax.”
In a teasing tone, Tobirama asked “You are not using your tongue?”
Madara’s whole face twisted into a small grimace. “I… No. Just… No. As you so helpfully pointed out, that’s my brother’s seed inside you. I’m not keen to… No. You’ll have to settle for my fingers for this time.”
Smiling softly, Tobirama let herself sink back against the pile of pillows, enjoying Madara’s deft touch. “Hmf. Yeah, I get that. And just so you know, I still think we could convince anija to donate for you to carry one as well.”
“I’ll think about it. If your pregnancy goes well. Now, relax, and let me take care of you.”