Accelerated [Madara Uchiha X Reader]

[6/30]

—OFFICE—
You groan internally, and the urge to display your displeasure is gigantic: is he serious? This guy needs anger management, and help with much other management. Like, how about he learns to manage his "orders". He has most definitely told you to create a bar chart; why would he even want a pie chart? Just yesterday he talked about how much he hated cake! Why then order a diagram, which reminds him of something he doesn't like in the first place? Madara is surely the most confusing being you've ever encountered, and by now you're not all too sure whether you're intrigued or annoyed. It's probably a mixture of both.

You walk behind him with the papers in your hands. He marches up front, expressing his leading position; you just stare at his back: it's broad, looks muscular even through the suit and damn you're wondering if there are any scars. Yeah, you must be suffering some sort of schizophrenia; your opinion on him changes more often than you your underwear. But can you help it? He is attractive, give him that definitely, and he's smug, arrogant, self-confident, intimidating, masculine and mature (more or less); and curse yourself, but that's exactly what you like, that's exactly what you want. He can suck whatever grudge against you up: he's so going to be yours.

A smirk forms on your lips as you enter the office, shutting the door behind the two of you. Your eyes follow Madara, who is suiting himself on his desk; there's even a new sign reading BOSS; fancy, Mr. Madara Uchiha, now, aren't we?

"What are you grinning about, [last name]?"

"What are you even sulking about, Madara?"

"That's Mr. Uchiha for you. Watch it." You chuckle, sitting atop the desk, legs crossed. There's a trace of a knowing smile on his lips; he's sure trying hard to keep his act up.

"Oh, I watched. Not sure if what I watched was it. But now tell me, Mr. Uchiha, what's the real reason you called me into your office?" His expression changes not a single bit, however, he raises his arm up to your face, his thumb and index finger grasping your chin. With his obsidian eyes he stares into your, and his face nears your. Your body heats up at the proximity, but his mouth find your ear more than your lips.

"Whatever reason you want it to be."