Prompt: Musashi had not expected to drift into the Fifth Holy Grail War with a spear immediately flying at her face, but well, here she was. Her "Master" wore a familiar face to her, that of Senji Muramasa, but he could not have been more different, a hot-headed fool who made even Musashi look cautious. Unable to stop him from being so reckless, Musashi offered to train him so maybe he wouldn't get himself killed by being so stupid... Somehow, that had winded up with her pressed against the wall and Shirou's cock inside of her... How did she get here again?
Tags: Miyamoto Musashi/Shirou Emiya, rough sex, paizuri, mind break, fully consensual
Shirou's hips bucked sharply, driving his substantial length deep into Musashi, whose back was pressed against the cool, hard wood of the dojo's wall. A gasp of pleasure escaped her lips as he filled her completely, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist to give him the leverage needed for his relentless rhythm. Her breasts bounced with each powerful thrust, the sensation sending waves of heat through her body. The sound of their skin slapping together filled the room, a mockery of the sound of steel slapping together that should have rang through the room.
Musashi's eyes squeezed shut as she felt the pressure building within her, her nails digging into Shirou's broad shoulders. "More," she moaned, her voice raw with need. "Fuck me harder, Shirou! I need this!" Her words were punctuated by sharp intakes of breath as he obeyed her command, his grip on her hips tightening as he pushed into her with more force. The feeling was exquisite, like nothing she had ever felt before. She was lost in the sensation, her mind a whirlwind of pleasure.
Her climax hit her like a bolt of lightning, a scream of ecstasy tearing from her throat as her body clenched around him. Her eyes flew open, and she threw her head back, the cords of her neck standing out as she reveled in the intense pleasure that washed over her. "Yes!" she cried out, her voice echoing off the walls. "That's it! Yes, Shirou!" Her legs trembled, and she felt herself go weak as the orgasm subsided, leaving her panting and clinging to him.
As the aftershocks of pleasure began to fade, Musashi's mind grew hazy, trying to piece together how they had ended up in this passionate embrace. She had drifted here...
It hadn't been long after she died. She had shown up to Chaldea, given a second chance by someone- she really hoped it wasn't the counter force- and hadn't gotten to stick around for long enough to even say hi to Ritsuka, all she got to do was leave a message with the "not the missionary" for her. She had made one stop in Honduras and then poof she had been here.
She was thrown into the fire immediately on this drift. A blue Lancer with his red spear charging towards a young man with red hair, lying on the ground behind her. They were in some old shed. She hadn't even gotten the chance to say hello to the cute boy with command spells, that she could only assume were meant to make him her master, before that rude jerk had tried to impale her. She had deflected the blow of course, drawing her swords and pushing him back with ease- but still!
She had then gone on the offensive, and had a fun duel with another servant. He didn't quite measure up to the seven heroic spirit swordmasters, but he was a fearsome opponent. His spear was also an impressive weapon. The sight of his gaping mouth when she blocked that Gáe Bolg thing with her Myoujingiri Muramasa was especially amusing. He said something about it being impossible because it was always supposed to strike the heart... but her Myoujingiri Muramasa had the ability to cut through causality, so it was more than doable for her to block whatever that was. The coward had fled after that, blaming his Master. Musashi was just excited to dance with the unknown Lancer again. She was sure that the use of his Noble Phantasm would be enough for someone else to identify him, Ritsuka certainly would have, but Musashi didn't care about that stuff. She just cared that he was a strong opponent.
Finally alone with the new red-headed teen, Musashi had turned around to greet him, a dramatic greeting on her lips. And she had frozen. "Grandpa Muramasa!?" She gasped in shock. How was he here? And why was that lazy bum lying on the ground while she fought? "I'm not giving you back my sword!"
"Huh?" The man wearing Muramasa's body had responded. He scratched the back of his head adorably. "I'm Emiya Shirou." Oh.. right, Muramasa was a pseudo-servant, it shouldn't be that surprising to see the human he evidently was borrowing at some point in her travels. Uncanny though, it had been just one hop since Shimousa.
"Err- right, sorry you look like someone I used to know. I am your serv-"
And then she was interrupted by her stomach growling of all things! How embarrassing. Shirou Emiya had immediately offered to make her something to eat as thanks- not even letting her finish her introduction first. She was still a total stranger and the fool offered to cook for her! However, Musashi had never said no to free food and she was not going to start here.
Accepting his food had been the best decision of her life. Shirou had made udon at her request, and had apologized when he finished that it hadn't come out as well as he had hoped. Musashi's expectations had not been high. And then she took her first bite of the yaki udon.
The noodles, a perfect blend of chewiness and softness, had danced on her tongue as the sweetness of the sauce met the saltiness of the roe. Each bite was a symphony of flavors, each strand of noodle coated in a heavenly concoction that seemed to have been made by a god. The scent of the dish was intoxicating, a blend of the richness of the sauce and the hint of smokiness from the grilled meat. Her taste buds sang with delight, and she had even moaned out of pure satisfaction. Suffice to say, Musashi would have only been happier if she was with her master.
Over dinner she had introduced herself to a baffled Shirou as Miyamoto Musashi and claimed to be his servant in the Holy Grail War. He had insisted that she couldn't be Musashi and had demanded to know who she really was. He also had asked what a Holy Grail War was. It turned out that Shirou knew nothing about magecraft at all- or the existence of parallel worlds. He didn't even know what a servant was! So unlike her master.
Musashi groaned as Shirou withdrew from her and she was pulled from her reverie by the sensation of emptiness, her legs unraveling from around his waist and her feet touching the cold dojo floor. He had been so deep inside her, filling her completely, that the sudden emptiness made her knees wobble. But she was not one to let a moment of passion go to waste. Her eyes, still glazed with desire, took in his engorged member, standing proud and demanding attention. With a mischievous smile, she dropped to her knees before him, her body moving with the grace expected of such a great swordswoman.
Her ample breasts enveloped his erect shaft, and she began to move them in a rhythmic dance around him, her hands supporting the base as she leaned forward to suckle on the sensitive head of his penis. His eyes rolled back in his head as she took him in her mouth, her tongue swirling around the tip before she took him deeper, her cheeks hollowing out with the effort.
The sensation was overwhelming, and Shirou's hips began to move of their own accord, thrusting into the warm, wet cavern of her mouth and the soft pillows of her breasts. Musashi moaned around him, the vibrations sending shivers down his spine as she worked her mouth and chest in perfect harmony. The sight of her, kneeling before him with such enthusiasm, was too much to bear.
Musashi's thoughts grew hazy as she focused on the task at hand, her own desires momentarily forgotten as she sought to bring him to the brink. Her hands squeezed and released, her breasts pressing and releasing, creating a symphony of sensation that had Shirou gripping her hair, his hips jerking uncontrollably.
Her movements grew faster, more erratic as she lost herself in the moment, her thoughts swirling with the memory of that first bite of udon. Somehow his cock tasted better than his cooking.. She felt light-headed, the world spinning around her as she took him deeper, her eyes watering from the effort.
Shirou's grip tightened in her hair as he watched her, his eyes dark with desire. "Musashi," he panted, his voice strained. "You're so...amazing." She hummed in response, the vibration around his cock sending shockwaves through his body. He groaned and redoubled his efforts, his hips moving faster and harder, pushing her to take more of him into her mouth.
Her eyes watered, but she never broke eye contact, her gaze locked on his as she took him deep into her throat. The muscles there tightened around him, her throat working to accommodate his thickness. Each time he pulled back, she eagerly followed, her breasts bouncing and jiggling with the motion. He leaned down, his hand reaching out to squeeze one of her nipples, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. The sensation sent a jolt through her, and she moaned, the sound muffled by his cock filling her mouth.
Shirou's thrusts grew more demanding, his hips pistoning into Musashi's face with a ferocity that left her gasping for breath. Her throat stretched around his thickness, the muscles there straining to accommodate him as he fucked her mouth with an urgency that bordered on desperation. His hand fisted in her hair, guiding her movements as he pushed deeper, his grip tightening with each passing moment.
Musashi felt her eyes water and her jaw begin to ache, but she didn't care. The taste of him was intoxicating, and she couldn't get enough. As she felt herself growing light-headed from the asphyxiation caused by his size, her mind drifted back to their early days together. How reckless he had been, throwing himself into battle without thought for his own safety, only seeking to protect the ones he deemed in need.
It had been two days since Musashi was summoned. Two days of eating the best food of her life for every meal. Shirou never complained when she demanded udon for each meal in the day, the only time he put his foot down was for breakfast. Every time, it had been a different sort of udon, and every time, it had made her moan in pleasure.
In those two days, her only battle had been with the Archer class servant. That one had been fun. He was not like a normal Archer. Before the fight, he had two swords in hand, twin dao. She had been excited to fight another swordsman, but noooo ... Shirou had called her Musashi before they could cross blades, and the coward's swords had vanished. He had replaced it with a bow- and immediately opening by throwing a bomb at her. "My core is twisted in madness" he said. Well, so was Musashi's. Their fight had been more fun than she had expected, with him throwing dozens of different ultra-powerful ranged weapons at her, and eventually he had pulled out his swords- only to be totally useless with them. She wished he talked a little less about being the bone of his sword. It was so unnecessarily edgy! She was certain that even Shirou would one day make for a better swordsman than that wanna-be Saber. He left a giant hole in his gut for her sword!
Shirou had stopped her from finishing off the Archer, claiming that he knew the dark-haired girl Tohsaka that was his master. She had shrugged, not really caring either way. She would enjoy fighting him again. As payment for sparing them, she had advised that Shirou visit the church and officially register as a Master. Two hours later, they had met the priest overseeing the war who felt uncomfortably similar to Limbo and he had explained the war to Shirou much better than Musashi's failed attempts were.
Leaving the church, Musashi had grinned at the sight of the hulking Berserker with the child master who met them at the gates. Her joy had become blissful euphoria when the girl had claimed "Heracles is the strongest." This was Heracles? Musashi might not be the history buff that her master was, but she knew who Heracles was. He was the strongest Greek hero, and according to some, the greatest hero ever. She had dreamed of fighting him for years! He was possibly the strongest opponent that she was waiting for! The thing that would push her beyond the void!
Musashi had not waited for Shirou's command or Heracles to initiate combat. She had charged right at him, unable to contain her excitement. Maybe she had been summoned as a Berserker? Heracles had not made an effort to block her blows, the lumbering giant letting her swords bounce harmlessly off his skin. Then Heracles had gone on the offensive. His giant stone sword swinging down on her with shocking speed. Musashi's twin katana were cut clean in two- not because of the strength of his mishapen sword, but because of the strength of the one wielding it. She ducked under the blow, and rolled out of the way, landing on her feet with perfect grace. Musashi had grinned and dropped her broken stubs. She liked those swords, but they could be replaced. This just required her to take things seriously. Her hand moved down to the sword at her hip. She never got the chance to draw it.
Shirou Emiya had seen Musashi's sword break, and decided that she was in need of saving. So without regard for his own life, he had charged Heracles and put himself between them. "Trace on!" He shouted. And in his hand, had appeared a familiar sword. Musashi had seen projection magic before- that Archer she had just fought used it even. Yet, this was different. He hadn't just summoned any old sword- or even a self-destructing Noble Phantasm like the Archer. He had summoned a sword forged by his own hand- sort of- Myoujingiri Muramasa, forged by Senji Muramasa when he was in this exact body. Musashi had only used the sword once in front of him- to deflect Gáe Bolg that first night, but somehow, Shirou was able to perfectly recreate the conceptual weapon that carried divinity despite being forged by mortal hands.
He held the sword in both hands defensively in front of him, the same position that Musashi took when she wielded it. Heracles struck before Musashi had time to react, swining his behemoth of a sword at Shirou with the intent of removing his head from his shoulders. Shirou instinctively moved his sword to the side to catch the blow. The world froze as the Myoujingiri Muramasa cut through Heracles axe-sword, cleaving the blade in two- leaving the berserker with just a stump. Shirou's sword had cracked and dissolved too, but the damage was done.
Under another circumstance, Musashi would have pouted. Instead she ran as fast as she could for the mad hero. She finally got the chance to fight Heracles and he didn't even have a real weapon? He couldn't have been summoned with Marmyadose? How unfair. Alas, she did have the luxury to worry herself about how lame her dream duel had become. Heracles did not take kindly to being disarmed. His hand that had been holding the blade came back around to backhand Shirou.
Musashi wasn't quick enough to close the distance in time. His hand crashed into Shirou's exposed chest and the boy went flying through the air. He flew ten feet and slammed into a tree with a sickening crunch. Musashi's Muramasa sank into Heracles elbow, just a split-second later. Heracles had reeled back with a pained groan.
Musashi looked over at Shirou and then back at Heracles, before turning to the Master of Berserker. "This battle is over. Head home or I will be forced to kill you both." Musashi told herself that this was simply her desire to fight Heracles at his strongest- with a better sword; and her desire for more of that amazing food. There wasn't anything deeper to it- at least that was what she had thought at the time.
The albino child frowned. "As if you could," she laughed to cover the obvious worry in her eyes. "Heracles is still the strongest, even without his sword. He'd squash you like a bug." Her gaze drifted over to Shirou and her features appeared to soften. "But... I want onee-chan to suffer more before he dies... so I guess we're done for today. See you again tomorrow, Saber." She giggled as the Berserker without needing a command, picked her up, and placed her on his shoulder. She didn't wait for them to even turn around before recklessly sprinting towards Shirou's prone form.
Shirou groaned in pain. Musashi had no sympathy for him. "How stupid are you? I don't care what sword you have, do you even know how to use a sword? You don't have the ability to fight Heracles, even if you did." She growled.
"I..." Shirou coughed up some blood. "I couldn't let you die."
"You couldn't let me die? I was totally fine! I had that handled! It was just getting fun! You didn't have to be so reckless!"
"Your.. your sword broke."
"I had another one! As you obviously knew given that you used it!"
Shirou closed his eyes stubbornly. "I don't care. I had to save you."
"And who is going to save you when you don't have the skills to do so? And I'm Miyamoto Musashi, my sword has reached zero. I can protect myself or I will die. There is nothing wrong with that."
Shirou shook his head slowly in disagreement. "I won't let you die."
Musashi huffed in exasperation. "Fine, you won't let me die, whatever. If I'm not allowed to die than neither are you, I need more of your udon if I'm being forced to live. No more reckless stunts like that- trust that my sword can conquer any foe. I'll do all of the fighting."
Shirou gave a pained smile even as he shook his head. "I won't let you fight alone."
Musashi wanted to scream.
Musashi's world snapped back into focus with the sudden intrusion of warmth and wetness at the back of her throat. Shirou's climax had caught her off guard, his cum shooting into her mouth with the force of a geyser. She coughed, trying to keep up with the onslaught, but some of it escaped, spurting out and landing on her cheeks and chin. The taste was salty and slightly bitter, but she found it oddly satisfying, a reminder of the intimate connection they shared.
Her eyes watered as she pulled away, gasping for air. A second rope of cum followed her retreat, arcing through the air like a silky ribbon before it splattered across her nose and eyes. She blinked rapidly, the warm fluid obscuring her vision, and felt a third shot land on her forehead, a sticky mess that trailed down the bridge of her nose. The sensation was strange, almost tickling, as she felt the warmth of his release on her face.
With a chuckle, she sat back on her heels, wiping the cum from her eyes with the back of her hand. Her gaze fell to her fingers, now coated in a pearly white sheen. Curiosity piqued, she brought her hand to her mouth and licked at the mess, savoring the taste of him. It was a bit of a mess, but she found that she didn't mind. It was a symbol of their bond... as master and servant. It felt like a betrayal to call anyone else her master when she was contracted to Ritsuka but...
Shirou was already hard again, his cock standing tall and proud before her. Musashi felt a thrill of excitement at the sight, her own arousal spiking once more. She rose to her feet in a fluid motion, the muscles in her legs flexing and rippling. With a playful wiggle of her ass, she bent over, offering herself to him. He didn't need an invitation, his cock springing forward to meet her wetness. She gasped as he filled her, the thickness of him stretching her once more. The sensation was intense, the friction of their bodies setting her nerves alight.
Shirou's hands immediately found her breasts, squeezing and kneading them with a roughness that she enjoyed. She moaned as he pinched her nipples, rolling them between his fingers as he pumped into her from behind. The sound of their bodies slapping together filled the room, a testament to their unbridled passion. She pushed back into him, eager for more, her hips moving in time with his thrusts.
Musashi's body began to tremble as the first waves of orgasm washed over her. She threw her head back, her long hair cascading down her back, and let out a cry that was a mix of pleasure and surprise. "Aaah, Master! Yes, like that!" she exclaimed, her voice hoarse with desire. Her pussy clamped down on his cock, and she felt his grip tighten on her breasts in response. He didn't slow down, his movements becoming more erratic as he pounded into her, his own need for release growing.
The room spun around her, and she was vaguely aware of Shirou's hand moving down to her clit, rubbing it in tight circles as he continued to fuck her. The added stimulation was too much, and she shattered, her orgasm ripping through her like a tempest. She screamed, her voice echoing off the walls, and her body convulsed around him. Her juices flooded his cock, coating him in her essence.
Through the haze of pleasure, she heard him murmur something about her being amazing, his voice strained with his own need. She felt his cock throb inside her, but he held back, not allowing himself to cum. The pressure built and built, and she knew she was close to her second peak. Her thoughts grew fuzzy, and she lost track of time as the sensations overwhelmed her.
Shirou's hand continued to rub at her clit, his thumb moving in a hypnotic rhythm that had her panting and begging for more. She could feel her walls tightening around him, her muscles clenching and releasing in a desperate dance. The tension grew, winding tighter and tighter, like a bowstring ready to snap.
With a final, deep thrust, she came again, her body arching back as she was thrown into the abyss of pleasure. Her mind went blank, all thought consumed by the waves of ecstasy that crashed through her. She was nothing but sensation, a living, breathing instrument of passion played masterfully by Shirou's skilled hands.
Her cries of pleasure filled the room, a symphony of release that seemed to go on forever. As she came back to herself, she felt his cock still hard and demanding inside her, his hips still moving with a relentless rhythm. He hadn't cum yet, she realized. The knowledge sent a thrill through her, and she pushed back against him, eager to bring him to the brink.
It was hard to believe they had gotten to this point, his hips slamming into hers hard enough to make her moan with every thrust. His cock filling her insides like she'd never felt before. His hands squeezing her tits, this was not the face of the Miyamoto Musashi who had entered the dojo a few hours ago. How had they gotten to this point where she could barely remember his name in her obsession with his huge cock?
"Ready?" Musashi asked as she held two pairs of twin katana at her side. This was her attempt at a compromise. Shirou refused to let her fight alone, too stupid and reckless to trust her, so she would at least put him in a position where he could hold his own for long enough for her to bail him out. She wasn't going to let her personal chef die to his foolhardy nature. They were using live steel- she hadn't used anything else when she trained herself, or with Iori. She wasn't going to do different now. If Shirou wanted to learn to fight against servants, he was going to be losing a lot of blood in the process.
"Trace on," was all Shirou said in reply. Identical katana materialized in his hands. Musashi didn't give him warning before leaping at him. Her swords moving in slow measured and obviously telegraphed movements. Shirou's right hand came up instinctively and managed to catch her blow on his sword. His left followed up by slashing out towards the thigh she had left exposed when going on the offensive. She block the strike, of course, easily twirling around to deflect his blade.
Musashi's eyes widened as Shirou smirked and his right hand thrust out towards her abdomen. It had been a feint? He had claimed he had no experience with the sword! Musashi had to use her full speed to accelerate and push his sword away. His sword was flung from his grip and clattered against the floor, his grip unable to hold up against her enhanced strength.
"You lied to me!" Musashi pouted.
Shirou scratched the back of his head and let out a nervous laugh. "I didn't... I just copied you, I think?"
"That... how? You have only seen me fight on three occasions and with how fast that was... You shouldn't be able to just copy me that easily? It takes years of training to master those techniques!"
"Err... sorry?"
Musashi grinned, dismissing the meaningless questions she had just asked. "Actually, you know what, it doesn't matter. You should be emulating my style given that we are the same size and equal blend of speed and power. Congrats though, you're a prodigy! That just means I don't have to hold back at all in your training!" Shirou looked more than a little concerned as he traced a new sword to replace the one he had lost his grip on. He took up a stance ready for combat.
It was cute, he was trying to replicate her stance. His right sword rested across his broad shoulders and his left hand one was extended and facing away from her in front of his stomach. Musashi took up the same position and smirked. He was trying to copy her, but he was coming up short. His torso was slightly open and his feet were a bit too wide. He had tried to copy her, but his rear flank was exposed and a wide slash towards his exposed side would cut him in half with how he had restricted his own mobility. Perhaps she had overestimated him, he wasn't a complete prodigy, he had just memorized one of her combos and somehow duplicated it.
Musashi shifted her grip on her sword so that only the flat of the blade would strike Shirou. She was trying to teach him after all, not kill him. She lunged out in the tight slash out around towards his flank, a move he had no chance of blocking... And was shocked to find her sword getting pushed away by Shirou's.
Her jaw dropped. How had he managed to block that? He had been so clearly exposed and he lacked her speed, even while holding back! The only way he could have blocked that was to... oh. Musashi's eyes narrowed and she let out a growl of frustration. That stupid boy! Even she wasn't that reckless!
Musashi's swords were a blur as she slashed at Shirou's swords- not him without holding back at all. It only took two blows in quick succession for the swords to shatter and dissolve into prana. Shirou went to trace more swords but Musashi cut him off by stomping her foot.
"Enough! What the fuck was that Shirou!?" She snapped at him. "Are you trying to get yourself killed!"
Shirou at least had the decency to look ashamed. "I thought that leaving an opening like that would let me predict where you would attack so I would always be able to counter."
With someone else, Musashi might have laughed and encouraged such a risky style. A month ago and she would've even with him. But she couldn't lose him- HER CHEF . "That is the stupidest idea, I've ever heard. If I hadn't been holding back, I still would've cut you in half."
"At least being able to anticipate would have given me a chance," his jaw was clenched. Stubborn boy with his suicide style. "I didn't have the speed or strength to keep up without controlling the pace of the battle."
"You will get yourself killed! You are risking your life!"
"If it let's me save someone, then I don't care how risky it is."
Musashi may or may not have thrown her swords into the wall when he said that. She would never tell a soul which it was. How could anyone be so stupid? "And what about you!? Do you think that matters if you die in the process!? You can't save anyone when you are dead!"
"Yes."
"You fucking idiot! Think about the people who care about you!" Musashi was a hypocrite for saying that after Shimousa. "Do you want to hurt them?"
"They will be fine without me. They don't need me." Shirou's words were hollow, and empty. He clearly believed them with every part of who he was. His amber eyes were dull and lifeless. And Musashi understood it all. This had been her a month ago- believing that no one needed her or would know if she was dead. Her circumstances had been a bit different, she literally did not have a home, but she too had been in that place of believing they had no value to others. And she was proven wrong when Ritsuka had to watch her die. And it had tore at her heart more than anything she had felt since she first left her world all those years ago.
"They won't... I won't..." Musashi whispered. "Oh fuck this!" She marched up to Shirou and balled her fists in his shirt and then she had smashed her lips into his.
"Oh, fuck!" Musashi moaned as Shirou's thick cock slammed into her g-spot with the precision of a master swordsman. Stars exploded behind her eyes, and she saw the room spin as she felt the intensity of the pleasure threaten to overwhelm her. Her body tensed around him, muscles tightening like a vice as she rode the wave of ecstasy. Had she really been the one to kiss him? And then one thing had lead to another... his unreasonably large erection hardening against her hip... she was the one to push them into sex too, wasn't she?
Shirou's hands gripped her hips tightly, his fingers digging into her flesh as he pulled her back into each thrust. She could feel his warm breath on the back of her neck, his panting matching the rhythm of their lovemaking. Her own breath was coming in short gasps, her moans echoing through the dojo like a symphony of passion.
With one final, deep thrust, she shuddered in his arms, her pussy spasming around his cock as she came harder than she ever had before. She could feel him swell inside her, his grip tightening, but he held back, not yet ready to release his own pleasure.
Spinning her around, he kissed her greedily, his tongue delving into her mouth as if he could devour her very soul. She kissed him back with all the pent-up passion and desire she had been holding back, her hands fisting in his hair, pulling him closer. Their bodies pressed together, skin to skin, their hearts beating as one.
Shirou's hands slid down her body, tracing the lines of her muscles, feeling the heat of her skin as his kisses grew more insistent. Musashi's eyes fluttered open, and she met his gaze, the fire in her eyes mirroring the passion in his own. Musashi's left hand drifted down to caress his chest, her fingers tracing the contours of his abs, feeling the strength beneath the softness of his skin. She moaned into his mouth in pleasure.
With a gentle tug, Shirou pulled Musashi to the floor of the dojo, their bodies tangling together in a mess of limbs and passion. He positioned himself between her legs, his cock standing tall and proud, ready to claim her once more. Musashi's breath hitched as she felt the tip of his shaft press against her swollen entrance, and she eagerly opened herself to him, craving the feeling of him inside her. He slid in, slow and deep, and she let out a cry that was half pleasure, half surrender.
Their bodies moved together in a dance as old as time, each thrust and counter-thrust speaking a language of desire that transcended words. Musashi's breasts bounced with every impact, her nipples hard and sensitive. She wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him deeper, her moans growing louder with each stroke.
"I love you, Shirou," she murmured between gasps, her voice thick with need. "I love your cock. It's so... so perfect." She could feel him smile against her neck, his teeth grazing her skin as he took her words as the highest praise. Her walls clenched around him, milking him, begging for his release. But he held back, his own pleasure secondary to hers. "I'm yours, Master!"
The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, punctuated by their cries of passion. Musashi's orgasms rolled through her, one after the other, each one more intense than the last. She felt like she was being split apart, reborn with every pulse of pleasure that shot through her body. Her fingers dug into the tatami mats, her nails leaving little half-moons in the material as she tried to find purchase. Shirou's cock was a living, breathing thing inside her, stretching and filling her in a way that she had never felt before.
"Fuck, Shirou, yes, like that!" she screamed, her voice hoarse from her repeated climaxes. Her legs were wrapped around his waist, her ankles locking together at the base of his spine as she pulled him deeper into her. He didn't need to be told what she wanted; he was already giving it to her. His thrusts were deep and powerful, his cock hitting her g-spot with a precision that made her toes curl. She could feel his muscles straining with each movement, his body a finely-tuned weapon of love.
"You're so tight, Musashi," Shirou grunted, his eyes squeezed shut in concentration. His hand reached between them, his thumb finding her clit and applying just the right amount of pressure. "I'm going to fill you up with my cum."
Musashi threw her head back, her eyes rolling into the back of her head as she felt the beginnings of another orgasm build. "Do it," she gasped. "I want all of it."
Shirou's hips picked up speed, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he approached his own climax. His breathing was ragged, his heart racing like a wild animal. He could feel her pussy tightening around him, her muscles spasming as she neared the edge. "I'm going to cum," he warned, his voice a low growl.
Musashi tightened her grip on his cock, her walls clenching around him as she rode the waves of pleasure. "Do it," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of their lovemaking. "Cum inside me, Shirou."
With a final, powerful thrust, Shirou released his seed, filling her completely. Musashi's body arched off the floor, her back bowing as she screamed his name. Her orgasm was like a storm, all-consuming and unstoppable. She felt herself being filled with his warmth, her body shaking with the force of it.
Shirou's own release was like a dam breaking, a flood of pleasure that washed over him and left him trembling. He collapsed onto her, his cock still twitching inside her, his breath hot against her neck. They lay there, their bodies still joined, for what felt like an eternity, their hearts beating in sync.
"Do you understand now, Master?" Musashi asked softly. "You do have people who care about you, people who want to stay by your side forever. And you have to be alive for them to do that." She might have been speaking in the plural, but she was only talking about herself. If only she could actually stay here, forever. She was happy laying there with his cock inside of her. She didn't need to go back to Chaldea, or explore anymore. She could push her craft with her prodigious student and surpass zero by fighting Heracles or Dead Apostles or something! It was a nice dream, even if an impossible one.
Shirou pressed a kiss to her collarbone, causing Musashi to shudder. "I can't do nothing. If I can fight, I will. I will save everyone"
Musashi sighed. "You can fight, Shirou, but not like that. Don't fight by endangering yourself. Let me teach you the right way, I'm Miyamoto Musashi! The sword who has surpassed zero! Let me teach you to fight like a true samurai, and surpass every opponent."
It took a moment, but after some brief consideration, Shirou nodded.
Musashi squealed and crushed her lips against his in celebration.
A/N: I'll be honest, I mostly wrote this initially because Musashi is hot, and I wanted to write a fic where Shirou gets to be happy after writing 2 prompts where he is cucked. Instead, this pairing became maybe my favorite pairing for Shirou amongst all characters who he has never met or has reason to meet. Shirou and Musashi have so much in common.
From their desire to just be a sword, to the fact that their height and weight are pretty much identical. Both of them struggle with relationships- Musashi's relationship with even Iori is much less personal, but views him more as a student and sort of pet even. Musashi has only ever had a deep connection with Ritsuka, hence why she holds Ritsuka so close. Shirou has always struggled with that, aside from the love interest of X route. Even Sakura, his closest companion, is often treated more as a thing than a person. He views people as things to be saved, not people, with few exceptions. Archer calls him out on that, and Shirou admits that Archer is right, even if he still stubbornly clings to the ideal.
They would but heads because they are the same, and in a full story that would force each other to recognize their own flaws, and grow around them. They would absolutely lean into Shirou's Hero of Justice side, but I also think that he would be able to push Musashi down the path of being Heroic in her pursuit of being one with her sword. Beautifully broken together as wandering vagabonds doing good and getting stronger by fighting strong opponents. Used Musashi post-Shimousa, so she was ahead of Shirou developmentally. Kind of want to write a longer Musashi/Shirou story, but I want to write a lot of things that I won't so...
Prompter wanted mindbreak, but really felt like it didn't fit the dynamic I had written, so it sort of shifted to it being about no longer desiring to return to Chaldea, and more specifically Ritsuka. To the best of my knowledge, even in Samurai Remnant, Musashi never uses the title of Master for anyone but Ritsuka- and she does reference Ritsuka indirectly a few times. She is very attached. It is very significant for her to decide that she would rather stay here with Shirou as her master then find Ritsuka again. It's a more subtle mindbreak, that I think qualifies, but I doubt that everyone will.
Shirou is far more competent than he should be at this point in the story of Fate. We'll pretend that he opened his magic circuits years ago, I mostly did it because I needed his recklessness to not be so fruitless. Shirou has experience in Kendo obviously, but Musashi does not consider that real experience using a sword. Musashi saying he is more skilled than Archer is a tongue in cheek thing by me, she does not recognize that Archer is Shirou, and was going all out against Archer. She was quick enough to slip past his guard before he could block despite his anticipation, hence why she thinks nothing more than his style, but he left a giant hole in his gut! She holds back against Shirou, despite her claims to the contrary, so his style looks stupid, but is at least effective, and she can recognize his intent.
Shirou can trace the Myoujingiri Muramasa because it was literally forged by his alternate future self as the pseudo-servant vessel of Muramasa, and it's strongly implied if not outright stated, that said blade was forged in Shirou's reality marble. That sword is innately one that resonates with him on such a high level, in spite of it having achieved divinity. If he used it's true name, his body would die though- just like with Muramasa. Cutting through even steel is a base level function of the blade though.
Experimented with a new format this time, going back and forth between the flashback and sex. It flowed decently well, but it also felt a bit too much like edging. Let me know what you think, but most of my future posts will go back to a more linear style. I will probably try this again at some point though, because it was kind of fun.
Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think of the new format! Comment all of your prompt ideas below and follow/fave both this post and my account for more Fate smut!