ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིseraphine

The cherry blossoms were only beginning to bloom outside of Miyamoto’s estate. He sat in his living quarters, the shoji sliding open to reveal the view of the flowers that only appeared in spring time, his tea growing colder with his neglect on the table.

A noble had arranged a meeting with him to introduce his daughter, something about giving him a new concubine in exchange for a portion of his land. Musashi can’t remember for the life of him on why he agreed to this predicament; Maybe he was drunk off of sake and got tricked into saying yes.

Either way, he laid there waiting for his new “concubine”. He only wishes she was as beautiful as the cherry blossoms.

The sound of horses galloping came to a stop at the front of his house before an apprentice slid open the door to inform him of the arrival. The swordsman sighed exhaustedly, straightening his robe as he got up. He followed down the empty hallways path, unbothered by this whole ordeal.

He finally arrived at the entrance of his property, watching as the carriage came to a halt. He could see the silhouette of a young woman through the paper frames of the wooden box. He studied your movements like he would examine his opponents before a fight, noticing the outline of your features from your shadow.

You finally revealed yourself, a servant helping you come down from the carriage as Musashi shifted his head to see you better. Then he finally saw: your eyes narrowed down at the ground, your hand held tightly onto the servant’s as your feet finally set onto the gravel pathway.

Your figure came to full view, a long intricately designed kimono covered your body, your hair was done up in a traditional style fit for the occasion. The most striking thing he noticed about you was your facial expression: it was stoic — almost expressionless — like you weren’t even in your own body.

Your eyelids finally lifted themselves up, meeting his eyes in a piercing gaze. Musashi’s eyebrows raised at the look you gave him, nobody has ever looked at him in such a manner; he was pleasantly surprised.

Miyamoto restrained himself from physically walking towards you and taking a closer look, staring at you from where he stood instead. The servant handed him a letter, stating it was from the noble that had just practically sold you; he scoffed at it: after begging for a piece of his land the man couldn’t even bother to show his face? He instructed his apprentice to settle you in before disappearing back into his house, not even caring to introduce himself.

…

He would catch glimpses of you, but never had a conversation with you. It’s been a week since you first arrived at his estate, living here as a concubine but you have yet to fulfill any concubine duties.

Musashi didn’t mind. Frankly speaking, he didn’t care. He treated you as something he was inconveniently stuck with for the time being. He was, however, extremely curious about you. You were an enigmatic being for him. One filled with questions yet little answers.

One day he caught you at the engawa, sitting at the edge with your legs tucked beneath you, staring at the cherry blossoms. Your back was turned to him, oblivious to the swordsman standing right behind you.

Your hair was undone for a change, covering your face from being fully visible from where he stood. The sight felt serene for Musashi. As a swordsman, he rarely gets to indulge in such a beautiful view. The cherry blossoms were pretty on their own but with you, they pale in comparison.

What was he thinking? He barely knew you. Why is he having these thoughts? He shook his head to get rid of his thoughts before approaching the veranda.

“Do you like cherry blossoms?” He spoke up, as he walked to where you sat, standing beside you in a manner as stiff as his question. You seemed startled by the sudden voice, tensing slightly as you turn to the renowned swordsman

“They’re a sight for sore eyes after a harsh winter,” he continued awkwardly once you didn’t reply, huffing as he sat down beside you. “They only bloom for a mere moment yet it is worth a whole year waiting for it,” he proudly admired the tree he had cultivated over the years.

The air between you two was thick when his words were met with silence. He cleared his throat, taking the hint that you enjoyed silence over idle small talk.

“They remind me of home,” you whispered, causing Musashi to immediately turn towards you in surprise. “Do they now?” He couldn’t contain his smile when he finally heard your voice, content with the outcome of the conversation.

He noticed how your lips twitched into a smile at the thought of your home. A part of him felt guilty; ripping a young woman such as yourself from her home might be one of the cruelest acts he’s committed, even more cruel than killing a person.

…

In the following days, you noticed Musashi talking to you more. He began interacting with you out of his own will: Inviting you to eat meals with him, strolling in the garden together and sitting in comfortable silence with you became a steady routine for the two of you. He let you have free rein over the property, never confining you to one space alone.

You also noticed he hadn’t made any advances towards you. Not even a hint of sexual intent was seen in his actions. It was as if he was doing all this — making you feel comfortable and wanted in his home — because he wanted to.

Wandering through the halls, puzzled by Musashi’s actions, your train of thought is interrupted by a series of grunts coming from outside. Curious, You poked your head from behind the sliding door to see what he was up to.

His upper body was naked, the robe pushed down so that it wouldn’t restrict his movement, revealing sculpted muscles riddled with scars from battle. His hand had a tight grip on a wooden sword, swinging it habitually with skill. Sweat trickled down his defined feline-like face, his brows tense with focus.

As if using his sixth sense, Musashi’s eyes suddenly met yours. His body relaxed under your gaze with a soft smile, making you gasp and turn away to hide behind the door. Before he could even call out to you, you were already making your escape. He only smirked at your embarrassed reaction, finding it oddly adorable at how shy you were.

…

That evening, you couldn’t get rid of that image of him from your head. His naked body plagued your mind no matter what you did, your heart skipping a beat whenever you visualized it.

You sat in the wooden bathtub, thinking about him. About his chiseled body, about his deep sultry voice, about his gentleness. Before you knew it, your hands descended down in between your thighs, trying to ease the ache you felt.

Your head lulled backwards, the water creating waves with the slightest shift of your hand. You tried to contain your whimpers with a hand on your mouth, praying the muffled noises don’t alert Musashi.

Much to your dismay, the wooden door to the bathroom slid open before you could even react. Your hand instinctively pulled away from in-between your thigh, yelping at the sudden intrusion. It was Musashi. Perfect timing. You stared at him like a deer that had just stepped foot into a hunter’s trap, unable to move.

“Do you mind if I join?” He cocked his head to the side, asking so casually. You notice only a loincloth covered his private areas as your eyes trailed downwards before snapping back to his face, realizing you had remained silent to his question. You nod reluctantly, remembering this was your job after all.

You look away as Musashi removed his loin cloth, staring at the wall beside you instead. He sunk down into the water, slotting you in between his thighs as he sat behind you. He let out a loud groan as the water soaked his skin, releasing him of the pain in his muscles. You sat there as rigid as a rock, staring at the way the water rippled.

“What’s wrong? You’re like a statue,” he purred, a wet hand playing with your hair teasingly. “You can relax, I won’t hurt you” He nudged you closer to his chest, encouraging you to lean into him fully. You didn’t even realize your arms had been covering your chest the entire time. You slowly let them down to the sides of your body, revealing your hardened nipples. You can’t tell if it was because of the cold air or Musashi’s touch.

“Did I interrupt you? My apologies,” his words froze your entire body again. He knew. If your back wasn’t turnt to him, you would see his teasing smile. “Please, continue. Don’t stop on my account,” He probed you even further, his stubbled chin pressed against your shoulder to tickle you, making you squirm underneath him.

“Or would you prefer if I gave you a hand?” He whispered, his hand hovering your body merely inches away from making contact with your dewy skin. He didn’t move an inch, waiting for your signal to continue. “Yes, please” your voice was barely audible yet he caught onto it, happily obeying at your pleading.

His much bigger hands pries open your thighs as his lips placed a kiss on your temple. Your lips trembled as his index traced your slit, brushing against your sensitive clit making you squirm. Musashi shushed you as his finger pulsed against your pussy but your whimpers only grew louder.

Musashi sinked a finger into your needy cunt, watching as your face contorted with pleasure and your hand tightened its grip on his flexed bicep. Relishing in your reactions, another finger entered you; the intrusion making you gently buck your hips. His thumb circled your clit while his digits continued to thrust shallowly into you.

His other hand grasps onto your breast, fingers grazing your nipples gently while you shook like a leaf beneath him. He smiled smugly, your sweet moans were like the greatest symphony to his ears. You could feel his cock hardening behind you, its head brushing against your lower back with every move you made.

You were in a daze. Your vision began to blur, you could feel yourself nearing your limit, whimpering Musashi’s name as you turn to face him. Your expression was enough for him to understand what you wanted. He kept pressing against the most sensitive spot inside you restlessly, practically commanding you to cum on just his fingers alone.

You couldn’t hold it anymore. Your warm insides tightened around Musashi’s fingers, feeling as if it were never going to release them. You let out a loud moan, feeling relief as you finally climaxed. The water sloshed rapidly in the tub, spilling outside because of your rapid movements.

Musashi smiled proudly as you tried to catch your breath, slowly pulling out his fingers that were covered in your slick and the bath water. His free hand squished your cheeks, instructing you to open your mouth — he wanted you to lick him clean.

You obediently listened, tongue swirling the two fingers in your mouth making Musashi coo your name softly with praise. Your legs felt weak, barely able to stand on your own as he shifted to get up from behind you. He leans down, scooping you up from the water and into his arms. Your arm unconsciously wrapped around his neck, afraid he might accidentally let you go. “You doubt my strength, my dear?” He asked you accusingly with a grin, reassuring you that you’re safe in with him as your arms relaxed its hold on him.

You could feel every curve of his flexed muscles against your naked body, the contact making you shiver more than the cold air breezing past you. He seemed to be preoccupied with walking while you silently studied his face. You didn’t expect a concubine’s life to be like this. You didn’t expect him to be like this: comforting, tender, gentle.

Toki was absolutely infatuated with Dethklok’s new social media manager. The new one that Charles had just hired a few months ago, you. You and your perfume that lingered in the air whenever you would walk by, you who patiently answered every question he had, you who lived in his head rent free.

You consumed Toki’s every waking thought from the day you arrived. He soon began to daydream about you; imagining what you would look in his arms, imagining your lips pressing against his own, imagining how you would look breathless under him in his bed. He let little ol’ you wander in his mind to all sorts of places.

Ever since then, he never left your side. Finding ways to get closer to you at every chance he could get, pestering you about how his online presence was growing; he didn’t really care about his social media accounts, but the way your face lights up with that proud smile made his heart melt.

He even brought you to the tours, fighting tooth and nail with Charles to make it possible until the latter agreed. You’d wait for him backstage after the performance was done; he would run to you and ask how he did, wanting you to shower him with praise and compliments. Personal space practically didn’t exist for him, always cozying up to you as you let him pick out the photos for his instagram, the routine becoming a silent ritual between the two of you.

…

This was no different; the tour ended with this closing performance. Dethklok finally finished their encore for the night. The cheers (more so screams) of the audience dying down as the members retreated backstage; Toki being the most eager one. He could barely contain himself as he rushed to look for you — He finally got that guitar solo after Skwisgaar finally let him do it for once — He had to know what you thought of it.

He searched for you frantically; his eyes scanned the backstage area filled with klokateers but not a silhouette that resembled your figure. He ventured deeper, calling out your name as he cleared every little area. Disappointed, he hung his head low — did you leave early? Did you not enjoy the show? Toki’s heart began to ache in silence before muffled voices arguing from the changing room caught his ear.

“Let go of me!” He instantly recognized that voice as if he was trained to do, bolting to the source of the sound. The door to the dressing rooms burst open. There you were inside, cornered against one of the tables as some random bastard pulled at your wrists, making you struggle to thrash free. Your eyes lock onto Toki’s, who stood at the doorway frozen, pleading for help.

And help he did. Out of sheer instinct, Toki lunged at the man in front of you with a punch knocking him to the floor, finally freeing your wrist. Toppling on top of the man, he pummeled down an onslaught of punches to his face; blood began to splatter onto his knuckles as injuries formed, threatening to bruise later.

A crazed expression covered his face — one you had never seen before. His eyes were feral, teeth bared, hair disheveled with sweat. He didn’t give the man a moment to recover, only stopping once klokateers pulled him back before promptly kicking the intruder out.

…

The silence was deafening in the room after the incident, Toki glared down at the floor as if it personally wronged him. You asked the klokateers to leave; insisting you’d take care of him instead. Now, you sat awkwardly stiff next to him (some help you were). Your teeth chewed on the bottom of your lip, almost drawing blood as you thought of something to say, your fingers gripping the disinfectant bottle. The blood dripping from Toki’s hand served as a cue for you to finally snap yourself back to reality.

“Thank you, Toki. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you,” you finally spoke up, wiping the blood off of his knuckles with the clean towel. Toki, who seemed to be in a daze himself, reacted to your voice on command, hands lifting themselves up so you could wrap the bandage. His eyes drifted to your lips as he watched them utter those words.

“Miss manager?” Toki looked away, punishing himself for thinking how kissable your lips looked. You winced at the nickname, “Toki, I told you you don’t need to call me that,” laughing awkwardly as you tie the gauze tight around his fingers. “I really don’ts want anyones to be arounds you,” his bottom lip jutted out unintentionally as his eyebrows knitted together to form a frustrated look across his face.

“I don’ts want the klokateers to be near you, I don’t want the others members to be nears you, and I specially don’ts want random dildos like that guys around you.” You were taken aback by his sudden rant, his hand clenched into fists as more blood threatened to spill out of the fresh wounds.

“Why can’t you just be mine?” His icy blue eyes bore right into yours, glossy with tears from desperation and frustration. His breath was shaky as he sighed with defeat — you felt a little guilty for relishing in how he yearned for you.

Your hand trailed closer to his, inching painfully slow before he latched onto them, contrasting your dragged out pace. You gasp at the sudden contact, his hand was surprisingly warm; you couldn’t tell if it was from the adrenaline rush he just had or if it was because of you. Your eyes lifted from the intertwined hands, eyelashes fluttering as they met his.

Toki’s face was mixed with urgency and hesitation, eyes darting from your lips to your eyes to your lips once more. “Can I? Please?” He was practically begging at this point, face inching towards yours to the point your noses brushed against each others. You knew what he was begging for — what he desperately wanted.

You didn’t answer, instead closing the space between you as your lips took their rightful position against his. His hand held the back of your head, gently nudging it closer to himself as he kissed you with a hunger that had been building up for months. His other hand pulled you onto his lap, a soft whimper escaping from the kiss as your thighs spread to accommodate his legs.

His tongue probed into your mouth, entangling itself with yours as his hand planted themselves onto your hips, his brown locks brushed past your face with every slight movement from him. With you on top of him, so close you were almost one with each other, the scent of your perfume intoxicated his every breath. He wanted even more — burying his face into your neck, taking in the smell as his crotch rutted against yours with need.

“You don’t knows how many times I dreamed of this,” he panted out between bated breaths, fumbling with his belt buckle hastily. You did the same — tugging down your jeans, kicking them off to the corner of the room you sure as hell won’t check for a good while.

A flimsy bra only separated your naked breasts from being pressed up against Toki’s face but he didn’t care, his lips placed on the soft skin causing a shiver down your spine. Your back arched as Toki’s finger traced the small of your back, his cock rubbing against the slit of your cunt impatiently.

“Can I puts it in? Please, miss manager?” He gave you a ditzy smile with that teasing nickname, hugging you tight in a bear hug as he looked up at you. “Naughty boy, keep calling me that and I’ll give you blue balls,” You warned him sarcastically, your thumb tracing his bottom lip as you lowered yourself onto him.

Toki’s lips let out a pitched whine, biting down on his lips as his head rolled backwards; your lips let out soft noises of your own, forming an o-shape as his shaft entered you. Finally bottoming out inside, his eyes were heavy with pleasure, legs twitching under your own as your warm walls enveloped him.

His hips ground against yours before you started moving — riding his cock at a steady pace that nearly drove him to insanity. Toki let out soft whimpers under you, fingers digging gently into either side of your waist fearing he might accidentally hurt you; it took everything in him not to bruise your perfect skin with his touch.

His hips bucked into yours, causing you to let out a needy moan. He smirked at your lewd expression while his canines grazed against your neck, leaving bite marks and hickeys all over it to remind every other guy that you’re his and his alone. Your arms grasped onto his shoulders for purchase as he thrusted deep inside you, his groans grew louder in your ear.

The guitarist knew he wouldn’t last any longer — not with how good you felt around him. Your mewls intensified when you realized you were close, rutting against him greedily to reach your climax. Toki’s hands find their way back onto your waist, his pace stuttering as you tighten around him.

“Cum inside me, okay?” You whisper breathlessly with a dazed smile, strands of your hair sticking to your face from the sweat, creating a sight perfect for a renaissance painting. That was all it took for Toki — your beautiful fucked out expression — his cum spilling inside you while his lips locked onto yours, stifling his grunts into the kiss.

His flaccid member slipped out of your pussy while he tried to catch his breath, the room filling up with shallow breaths and panting. His cock slots itself against your ass as you lay on his chest, listening to his labored breath. He inhaled the scent of your shampoo in your hair, combing through it gently as he came down from cloud nine.

“Does this means we’re boyfriends-girlfriends now?” He spoke into your hair, you could feel him smiling against your head at the thought of being yours. You hum in thought, “maybe,” you replied teasingly. “Maybes?!” Toki looked down at you in utter disbelief; the joke completely flying over his head.