Chapter Text
“Wait, when did you lose your virginity?”
The question was posed at dinner, a softball enough icebreaker to keep the conversation flowing. Robin didn’t even particularly notice who’d asked. The eight pirates sprawled around the galley in the twilight between a tremendous supper and the night’s activities. Zoro pulled out a sake bottle. “Uh, it was right after I left to start bounty hunting,” the swordsman answered first. He shrugged around a swig but kept the drink moving on in charity. “Dunno his name, not a lot of talking. I was, uh, how old was I? Somewhere around seventeen.”
“Well, that doesn’t count!” Sanji snapped. “When was the first time you slept with a woman?”
“Homophobe with a Tailor thinks it doesn’t count because I took it from a guy? Psh. Get outta here, idiot. When’d you lose yours, huh? If you even have…”
“Gay sex doesn’t count! So you’re still a virgin,” the cook kept needling.
Nami frowned across the table. “So you think I’m a virgin, too? I’ve only been with women. But it was with my friend, uh, Carina, if you really want to know. Sixteen.”
He doubled down, despite the light gush. “Y-yeah, that d-doesn’t count, either! See, my sweet Nami is nothing less than sweet, innocent, virginal—”
“I’ll slap you.”
“Her name was Jezebel; a cold, mysterious woman. She saw me from across the bar back in Syrup Village. Ol’ Jezzy told me that she needed to know how incredible of a lover I was before she sailed away,” Usopp answered with eyes lost to his hazy memories and one of the cook’s cigarettes in hand. “That mistress breezed into my world and was gone just as quickly. But she said it was the greatest night of lovemaking of her life. So good, she left early the next morning with only a note and a whiff of her perfume. I think I have a kid out there. Somewhere…”
“Shut up, everyone knows you’ve never done it,” Zoro chuckled into his drink.
“I-I-I-I-I—” the storyteller faltered, stumbling. “Did I say back home? I meant the other week. When I was, uh, living alone on Water Seven? Yeah. Then. So, I met Ol’ Jezzy at a bar—”
“What, you dudes don’t know Ol’ Jezzy?” Franky laughed as he slid in with the bro-assist. “She’s been a regular around Water Seven for years! Likes ‘em tall, dark, and handsome! No wonder she snatched you up, bro!”
Sanji couldn’t help but crack in laughter. “Okay, so that’s three virgins here. Franky?”
“Nah, I’m totally a virgin, bro.”
“Shut up, no you aren’t. What was her name?”
“You ever heard of a super mysterious mistress named Ol’ Jezzy?”
Everyone burst into a raucous round of laughter. Robin watched them all, lips to her wine glass. She eyed the way the newest crew member had seamlessly integrated himself into the crowd. He giggled with the rest of them in a way that felt so natural. The cyborg’s eye caught her’s and for a second she could have sworn she caught a look of something electrically charged, but it disappeared just as fast. An odd fluctuation caught in her belly as the topic lingered on his history. Curiosity mixed with a nebulous jealousy. She needed to read on.
“Fine, sure,” Franky chuckled. “Uh, it was a while ago, so it’s super foggy. Her name’s Miriam, she worked at her dad’s flower market near the train station. I was, uh, eighteen I think? Probably would have happened sooner, but I was super busy with my apprenticeship ’n the train. It was cool, she was nice. Think it was a thank you for helping her fix her cart? But I don’t really remember it. Like, the first time for everyone always sucks, y’know?”
“Speak for yourself,” Nami cooed under her breath.
“I don’t understand why you have so much ritual around reproduction,” Chopper commented as he started to clear his plate. “I’m not ready to reproduce yet. I can’t be a dad!”
“No one’s asking you to be a dad right now,” Robin laughed, petting the top of his head. “You can take it in your own time, when you feel comfortable and find someone you feel safe with. You don’t wan’t it to be a pressured situation. Some people have a lot of ritual, but sex really just is a part of life. Have it or not, either way, it doesn’t change your value as a person.”
Nami wiggled her eyebrows and bit her lip. “So how did you lose yours, then?” The girl prodded.
Robin opened her mouth to speak. A coherent answer, however, was outside her usually-infinite reach. The words jumbled. Eyes wandered. Franky shot her another look like he was paying close attention to the response, but his brow dropped in worry when she only made a vague series of noises. “W-well, you know,” the devil answered with a faint wave of a phantom hand. “With things the way they were, and—”
“Her name was Gwendolyn, an heiress. She came into the Baratie looking for company after her rich older husband kicked it,” Sanji hopped in to answer with a proper exhale of smoke. His eye caught Robin’s, his lips curled in understanding. Similarly unsettled glances echoed around the dinner table, but they faded as he moved the topic on. “She ordered a spring pear salad with walnuts, a goldenberry vinaigrette, and seared ahi. I sold her on the wine, but she said she couldn’t drink the whole bottle on her own. Took me back to her boat after I got off work. Nineteen. I’ll always love her.”
“No way, also a lie,” Zoro scoffed with disbelief. “Damn. Three virgins, two gay people, and whatever those guys got going on. Wow.” He gestured back and forth between Robin and Franky.
She flushed hard, hoping she could pretend that it came from the wine. “W-what does that m—”
“—Whoa, bro, I dunno what you’re insinuating but—”
“What are we talking about?” Luffy asked as he finally looked up from devouring everyone else’d leftovers.
“How’d you lose your virginity?”
The captain only shrugged, “uhhhhhhhhhhh, I dunno. Can’t remember if I am or not. ’S not a big deal.”
Robin had separated herself once dinner had wrapped up, choosing the evening company of her new flower beds over her nakama. No one seemed to mind. Her mind wandered to the topic from earlier. A question seeded itself—a curiosity. She closed her eyes and secretly savored the shapes on the other side.
“Hey!” A voice called from the library door. Franky’s heavy footsteps thumped over the deck. “You feelin’ super good? You jet before dessert. Not in the mood for somethin’ sweet?” He quickly closed the distance and settled to lean against the railing. Everything stayed amicably distant, a quiet comfort lingering in the fuzzy in-between. If she’d been a little braver, she would have leaned into his exposed chest with her nose nestled to his collarbone. Something had been waiting just below the surface tension with each lingering glance ever since they’d gotten to Enies Lobby, but circumstance had kept the bud from truly blooming. There hadn’t been a time to rest, yet. His spiced cologne and sharp, iron scent lingered amongst the sprouting flowers, even at the distance.
She shook her head. “No, I’m alright. I just needed some time alone to think.”
He inched a degree nearer to her side, more of a subconsciously shift than anything else. Franky licked his lips before he spoke and looked at her with a steeled expression. “Thinking about what we were talking about? The virginity stuff? Sorry if any of it was upsetting. I know it ain’t always a super nice topic for everyone. It… I… If you ever need to talk about it, I’m here, is what I’m trying to say,” he said with a rush of his words.
“R-really?”
“Of course! You’re my friend, Nico Robin. If there is anything you ever wanna work through, I got you. It’s super cool. Promise. You’re safe.” His hand rose and for a second she thought he was going to brush her hair behind her ear. Instead, he only ruffled her fringe in a playful sort of jest.
Robin collapsed with an exhale, relenting to the instinct in her heart and coming to rest against the thrumming machine. He tensed at first as her face pillowed into his exposed pectorals. It didn’t take long, though, for his posture to similarly relax. His palm tenderly cupped her hip in a way that felt excessively natural for a cannon.
“You’ve had sex before,” the historian stated as fact.
“Yeah, I have,” Franky chuckled in agreement. He stared down at her squishy form in the middle of an iron embrace. His facial features fluctuated as he tried to piece together why she would make such a statement, and what it would mean for her next inquiry.
“Would you…have it again?”
“I—I mean, sure. I’m not exactly super ready to resign myself to monk-hood just yet. I ain’t celibate, it’s just been a minute since the accident.” He looked up to the stars to hide his emotions, but his excited smile cracked through his next follow-up question. “Why do you ask, Nico Robin?” Metal fingers twitched at her hip.
She cautiously exhaled from deep in her belly. She’d been here before with others, gotten this far, but the standard urge to flee now threatened to evaporate in favor of the desire to keep going. Robin looked up at her crew mate with a question in her heart, though she did not know how to ask it without sounding foolish. Unknown discoveries lay just within her grasp. She needed to learn more, craved the act of novel discovery. He shifted to look down at her with a bright, cheeky smile that goaded for an answer. Franky knew what she was asking. And he knew generally why she asked. The tips of his ears and the high points of his cheekbones burned bright in anticipatory excitement.
“I have noticed something strange about you,” she finally responded after a long few minutes of seemingly telepathic eye contact.
“Eh? And what might that be?”
“That when I look at you, I think about sex. Not even always with you. Mostly just the general concept.”
Franky cracked into laughter. He eyed his own torso up even with the woman leaning against it. “I mean, it’s kinda what I’m totally going for, babe. These fake abs took a super amount of work to sculpt, ya know. The swimsuit’s brutally honest. And look at these fucking things!” He waved an arm prosthesis in front of her face, wiggling his fingers like he was trying to hypnotize her. “They’re porn hands by design. But if ya ever see me with my hair erect for more than forty-eight hours, ya might wanna call a doctor. Well… well maybe not our doctor. But one of ‘em. Wait a sec, what’d’ya mean not even always with me?”
Without another word, Robin stepped into a spin, her extra hands guiding the dual twist. She stopped only when her backside connected with the taffrail. He’d moved in time with her, dancing the second she offered him the cue like he’d been watching for it specifically. Anticipating the change. Counting on it. Hand to waist, hand to bannister, knee between her thighs, a larger-than-life man pinning her over the balcony’s safeguard.
“I’ve never trusted anyone the way I trust you,” she breathed. An ocean breeze delivered the secret letter to her most-adored.
“That’s all I needed to hear,” Franky purred the further he leaned in, the final syllable so close that it already brushed the soft skin of her bottom lip.
And of course, that was all it took.
Robin gasped, new delight brewing from her depths. She didn’t quite remember how they’d gotten from the garden to the ladies’ cabin, but she didn’t particularly care. Soft lamps illuminated the sight of the nearly-naked man in her bed, beneath her legs, under her wandering hands. She straddled his core, doing her best to account for his oversized body. Lips crashed in maddening arrival. They writhed. Her heart welled for an even deeper breath, only coming when he drifted to explore her jaw.
“Can I mark?” Franky asked directly into her vocal cords, voice hoarse with need.
“What do you mean?”
He caught the faintest fold of skin in between his teeth, nipping her in gentle example. Then, he kissed higher to suck on a secret patch of skin near her ear. “Like that.”
“Why?” She asked, though her curiosity melted into a building moan. One of his hands dragged up her thigh, each groove of his fingertips catching on her skin. Her nerves crested in a wave the higher his caress rose and crashed when he pushed up her dress. Hot machines held on carefully to her ribcage.
He parted from her neck and swiftly returned his attention to her lips. Kisses once again preoccupied focus. Hands took a cursory exploration. Skin received initial mapping. “‘Cos it can feel super good for you,” Franky groaned as he broke again for breath. “Or it can feel super good for me. Tradeoff is we walk into breakfast in the morning and everyone’ll know we fucked. They’re gonna find out one way or another. I don’t care, mark me the fuck up. It’ll only show up on my back, but you can be as rough as you want with my front. Fuck, you’ve got to be into some freaky fucking kinks, don’t ya? I gotta see it, show me the fuckin’ devil. Where do you wanna start, the sadism or the masochism?” He kissed her with the full force of pent desire. One hand roamed to tease the lining of her bra. His other thumbed lower down her navel.
Robin tensed. Franky caught the feeling, tremor running through his prostheses as he held her between each palm. The kiss released with a slight pop. They blinked at each other, nose to nose. “That was a joke,” he frowned.
“O-oh.”
“Shit, sorry, where’s my fuckin’—” the cyborg pat his chest, like he was locating his keys, “—Damn. You’re so sexy I misplaced my manners. Super uncool of me. Uh, but seriously, we’re both grown-ups, we can knock the chat out fast if it’s chill with you. So, quick rundown on me. I’m all good, it’s been a few years since my last test because I—uh, it has to do with my accident, it’s a long story. I’m going to have to take it a lil’ slow, actually. I haven’t done this since replacing most of it, so there’s a couple things I’m lookin’ out for. Gotta stay safe.” He sat up, readjusting so that she straddled his lap. “Uh, but we should talk about the elephant in the bedroom—”
Robin gulped, a wad of worry that dragged down the walls of her throat. Something tightened further between her legs.
“—So, I’m infertile,” he continued. “Uh, it-it’s been rebuilt, like a lot of the rest of it. I think I did a super good job. But I’m not going to be like anyone else you’ve ever been with. Sorry, in advance. Sometimes there’s little problems. It might take me a while to finish, or it’ll take like, thirty seconds. Also, it’s super rigid when it’s stiff—I mean, you can already feel that,” Franky laughed as he rolled his hips against her’s. “Uh, what else? I’d prefer if you rode, it’s easier on my elbows and knees in the long-term, but I’m down for pretty much a bit of anything. Think that’s it for me. You?” He smiled, kissing her softly again.
“Y-yes. That. That, t-too.” She answered in her fog of lust.
“What?”
Her brain caught up to the rest of her body, logic awakening just long enough to fell the demon of lust and actually answer his question. “I haven’t b—I haven’t been with anyone s-since my last medical screening, it was all fine. And you being infertile answers any question to the o-other element. Do you still want to wear a condom? Just for…cleanliness?”
“You mind if I don’t?”
“F-fine,” she said as she sat back. Her hips estimated his size again, straining through the stretchy material of his swimsuit. “Is that all we say?”
Franky relaxed against the headboard and brought her up to kiss her in languid pulls. “Um, I just gotta ask,” he tread gingerly, after a breath of quiet intimacy, “is there anything you don’t want me to do? Like, any hard no’s, any stuff I shouldn’t go near?”
“Why?”
“Well just… I don’t wanna pry. But with dinner, and… I don’t care about history,” he said. The archeologist in his arms gasped in faux-offense, making him chuckle. Both his hands hugged her ever closer. “I do need to know if something’s going to kill the mood. So, can you think of anything?”
“N-no, I don’t think so,” she shook her head simply.
“Really? Okay. Just let me know if something comes up, if something starts feeling weird. We’re keepin’ it super chill tonight. I’m here for you, yeah?.”
Robin beamed, nervous static finding shape and form and mass in the fray. “Yes,” she agreed. “Thank you.”
“‘Course! I’d so much rather have a good time for a long time than a shitty time with you once. Cool. Okay! Damn, phew. I’m super excited, are you super excited? You’re awesome. This is gonna be radical!”
Franky slid from the recline to nestle within the pillows. He guided her with him until they both lay fully down. The kisses slowly connected once again and built in desire until they picked back up where they had let off. She moved to lay atop him, remounting the engine. His hands continued to discover prickling territory just under her dress. The craftsman’s fingertips brushed her nipple, moving to fully pull once she’d hardened. The shocking sensation was only amplified by the mechanical man, making her spine straighten and her hips tremble. The tease repeated, then changed in a new pattern.
“Oh, you’re super sensitive,” he chuckled into her cheek. “Here, what if we…”
One big hand pulled her dress over her head, the other snapped her bra’s hooks with ease. Robin blinked and she was naked. “Oh!” She startled, sprouting two hands to cup her chest on instinct. A second later, they cautiously disappeared once she’d remembered the shared nature of their activity. Heavy breasts fell. Franky lay before her, desperately drinking in the sight. Cheeks burned.
An old instinct in her gut told her it wasn’t too late to call the whole thing off, that she could end it how she always had before. Turn him on, leave him hanging, survive as he begged for more for the rest of their time as crew mates. But everything so far had felt like winning the opportunity jackpot. If it was going to be anywhere, it was going to be here and now. As good a place as any—she’d always assumed it would realistically be in a ship’s cabin, at the minimum. A nice room, a nice man. It was much more than she’d ever dreamed of at many points in her life.
Robin lingered in the twilight between decision and action.
She trembled from her core, involuntary reverberations of the tides within. Franky cupped the side of her face and offered her one more comforting kiss. His mouth moved again, this time past her collarbone and down to her breasts. His other hand, toying at the edge of her underwear, finally succumbed to the pull. Fingers dipped beneath the fabric. Robin gasped before he had even touched her.
“You aright? Can I keep going?” He asked, pulling slightly away from her nipple, a lingering silk string of saliva still connecting them.
“Y-yes. Please.”
His fingers made easy contact and his lips latched once more. Little sounds bubbled in Robin’s heart, escaping in a way she could not control. None of it felt quite as she’d expected it to feel, though the only response her body offered was a craving for infinitely more and a pooling of hot slick between her legs. She practically burst into laughter the very first time he brushed her clit. The pitch in her exclamations made him chuckle, too. “You’re way more sensitive than I thought you’d be,” the man said as he switched from one breast to another. “We could have s—whoa, hold up, you okay? Robin, you’re shakin’. Do you wanna stop, take a minute? What’s up?”
“No, please don’t stop,” she nearly broke, eye squeezing shut and willing the nerves to subside. Franky moved to rescind his contact, but she blossomed enough hands to keep him in place. They all quickly disappeared once he’d lingered. “I’m just so excited to be with you.”
“O-okay,” he hesitated, though he seemed like he could tell that there was more going on. After a breath of consideration, his face buried into her bust once more. The pad of his finger followed bold lines, creases, and folds, until he’d lined himself up to her core. She pulled him out from between her breasts with her fist tangled in his hair. He looked blissed, a desperate need growing behind his eyes. She kissed his lips in brimming ardor, and he drank in her outpouring with lips welded to her’s.
Robin whispered, “please.”
On the next pass of his touch, he pressed into awaiting lips.
She winced for the briefest of breaths and hoped he didn’t catch the sound.
Every sensor in the machine had locked onto her reaction.
“Whoa, no. Let’s slow, babe.”
“Please,” she pled as she kissed him, hips shifting along his fingers out of need. “Please don’t stop. I want it to be you, I want it to be now. I need to know what it’s like.”
Franky watched the way she rolled, saw the way her brow involuntarily scrunched at any slight pressure between her legs. He fully removed his fingers, catching the briefest streak of—
“Robin?”
“H-hm?”
He kissed her, lips to temple to bangs to cheek and back to lips. “Robin. Robin. Robin. Robin. You said you want to know? You said you trust me? Have you ever… trusted anyone else before?” His chest stuttered, little tears sparkled in his lashes. Puzzle pieces connected and interlocked in his whirring brain.
She fully pulled back, losing her fight against the flee instinct in her heart. Her body dropped to sit between his knees. Her head hung, nervous trembling replaced by proper teary shakes. “No. I didn’t want it to matter. It shouldn’t matter. But—but…”
Franky shot up to meet her, a thousand pounds of steel knocking her into a deep hug. “Oh, Nico Robin. You’re alright. You’re safe. It doesn’t matter…and it does. I would have done things super differently if I’d known. Are you sure about this? Me, really?” He half-scoffed in mild self deprecation. Robin rolled the both of them over so they lay back down amongst the knit blankets. His hands stayed locked to her bare waist and his eyes cooled into something more serious.
“It’s not that I never wanted to,” she said. “But I-I think initiating the right s-situation wasn’t something I could research my way out of. It always just felt like I’d missed my train. Oh, sorry. I guess I just wanted someone who knew what they were doing and could talk me through it, but it also felt too late for me to ask. Pirates and bounty hunters aren’t well known for holding your hand through the process. So I kept my guard completely up instead. One of the problems with always being on the run, I suppose. Even on my own, I never fully felt like I could let myself…relax. So I just never got in the habit. I tried a few times, but couldn’t get the timing or the touch right. It was never a motivation. At least, that was until the other week when I saw you run through a city naked and now I feel—I feel—possessed! I couldn’t even stop myself from touching you in the moment! And it’s-it’s filled my brain ever since. It’s the only thing I desire; I see it when I close my eyes. I’ve never had anyone before, but I need you. I know it doesn’t matter, but I’m twenty-eight, and I was starting to think that maybe I was just a—”
He kissed her with lemon-puckered lips, the taste of sweet vanilla and spices passing from him to her. “You’re just-a-nothing, Nico Robin. You’re super, whatever way you are. Are you really asking me to show you?”
“Show me what?”
“All of it. I’d be fuckin’ honored to be the first person to show you how it feels, if you’ll have me.”
She didn’t answer, only nodded into his cheek. Lips coupled once more. Franky twisted their bodies so that Robin could lay back. He positioned her carefully, one of his hands holding behind her head, the other resting just between her legs. His fingers swirled carefully into her soft, dark hairs. The stimulation hardened her nipples. “Here’s what I’m thinkin’,” he said, eyes washing down her bare body as his plan formulated. “I actually think we probably shouldn’t fuck tonight, sorry. One thing at a time. It’s better this way, I’m super nervous about using my body, too. So I’ll show you with my hands, and then that’ll help you get used to the feeling.” He caught the fractional flash of disappointment in her eye. “Oi, oi! None of that! I just think it could be super fun to do something nice for you if we have time to plan. But I need you to know if you like it, first. And then you can consider yourself properly super deflowered next time,” he winked. “I’d redo my first time if I could, just knowing all I know now. I want this to feel super incredible for you.”
“That’s why I knew I wanted it to be you. I knew I’d be safe, you’d be looking out for me. I can ask you questions and you’ll be honest in return,” she smiled. A comforting hand bloomed to caress his sideburn, though she did not summon any others. Her look fixed into one of studious curiosity, always ready to learn.
“Oh, totally! I’m here for you. I’ve never been…I’ve never been someone’s first time before. My first was her showin’ me. Hope I’m an alright enough teacher. Is, uh, is there anything you’ve always wanted to try? Where’s your curiosity stem from, Nico Robin?”
She shifted to get comfortable, removing her underwear down her legs. They were cast aside to leave her exposed beneath wandering hands. He stared at the woman like he had never seen such a sight in his life. Eyes glowed. “Could you… make me…” Robin started in nervous worry, biting her lip until her words faded away.
“Oh, I’m makin’ ya come no matter what. That’s a promise,” Franky chuckled into her temple. He kissed her sweet, breathing with her until her trembling slowed. His fingers resumed their longitudinal tracing. “Just trying to figure out where to start. How does it feel when I touch you here?” His hand lowered from her cheek to her breast to feather over one areola.
“Y-yes that is—” Robin gasped sharp, her bust rising in a jolt of desire. “I liked when you used your mouth.”
“I’ll use it again once you’re properly on fire. But I can’t get distracted just yet, I gotta figure out what makes ya tick, first. You’ve got my full attention. How about here?” He brushed over her collarbone until he reached the tan line from her swimsuit. He followed the string’s ghost up to her neck. Her gaze stayed locked in tandem with his. His visage became her anchor, long lower eyelashes fluttering, lips pressed in scientific focus. Robin’s mind was hazy, yet fixated on the soft patina staining the bridge of his nose like a rusted nebula, vaguely gesturing toward freckles. The corner of his eyes creased in delighted little folds.
“That feels good, but not quite as—mmmm,” she nearly whimpered when he brushed her hair behind her ear. Velvet fringe scattered over her forehead.
He pulled back, his fingertips drawing a line from her jaw, down her neck, and between each breast. The touch traced the soft skin of her stomach. Robin pealed in laughter, jittery enough that she twisted in response to the contact. Her giggles only encouraged him to tickle her harder. His fingers poked at her waist until she exploded around him in breathless delight.
“Can I ask you about marks, again? Now that I know more,” Franky repeated, still giddy.
“Everyone will know I’ve had sex?”
“Yeah, or at least they’ll assume. You wanna see the look on Sanji’s face when you show up to breakfast covered in lil’ hickies?”
Robin closed her eyes, imagining the cook’s head exploding from shock when he turned to give her her coffee in the morning. There’d surely be a lot of blood. Curiosity toward cause and effect built on her tongue. “One,” she finally answered.
He didn’t need to be told twice. Bodies reshuffled so that he could lay with his lips to the side of her neck, though he only pressed little butterfly kisses into her skin to start. His hands continued to drift over her waist, hips, thighs. “You wanna see the stars, Nico Robin?” Franky asked. Fingers meandered over trembling flesh back to where he had started.
“Show them to me.”
Lips latched to her jaw with more focused intent, now sucking like he needed to pull a part of her off to keep for himself. His middle finger moved to fill the space between her legs. Suction on her throat prickled, a sharp sting as she felt fractalizing capillaries pop. Her knees squeezed together on instinct, but he gently spread her open for him. The near-electric feeling lingered just along her valleys.
Robin moaned, “this feels incredible.”
“Babe, I’m not even inside you, yet,” he laughed before returning to bruise the corner of her neck. Excited hands whirred along her slit. “You’re super wet. Wow. You’ve been waiting such a long time to be thoroughly fuckin’ pleasured, haven’t you? And how does…this feel?” He swiped one finger up though her dripping heat. She gasped, but he wasn’t finished. The slick touch rolled her clitoris and caught the uncharted nerves beneath her hood.
“Oh, oh, oh what is that?” Robin squirmed. “You did it earlier, too, wh-wh—”
“Does this feel good?”
“Do it again.”
Franky repeated the action to test every little variable. The woman he coaxed swore under her breath, head falling back and spine arching. A deeply held moan rumbled from her core. “I’d be willing to bet she liked that,” he joked with a kiss to her lips. The budding hickey on her neck went ignored as he devoted his focus to making her body burn brighter.
“Mmhmm-mmmmm,” she started to reply, but lost the thought when he sped up the persuasion. Stuttering patterns etched into her nerve. Her flesh grew erect and taut, peeking out from under the hood. His fingers caught each side and stroked down the length. Her slick lubricated his fingers once more, a pen refilling its unwritten words in the well. The craftsman knead her bulb with an eye for precision until her knees began to tremble. Machines coaxed her quickly, nearly vibrating. “Oh, oh, oh, Franky that’s—I—oh,” Robin melted, feeling herself inch toward some unseen ledge.
All contact suddenly withdrew. A look of betrayal flashed in the devil’s eye when the pleasure dared to stop. “I’m not about to let you finish that fast, just wanted to give a little sneak peek of what you’re in for. We got way more to try,” he laughed, low and mischievous against the corner of her lips.
“M-more? Was that not an orgasm?”
“Did it just feel super good, or did it feel like you were exploding?”
She thought hard with a frown. “It was very good, better that I’ve felt. But—”
“You’ll know when you’ve come, don’t worry. Just relax. I’m gonna try goin’ inside next. Is it cool if I get extra lube? I don’t want this to hurt you,” he comforted with a proper kiss. Robin only nodded in agreement without dropping the coupling, making both of their heads bob.
“Sh-should I be touching you?” She asked, her closest hand reaching for his tented swimsuit.
Franky chuckled. He caught her wrist and returned it to her side. Once he’d moved her, though, he cupped his own erection, pulling it out from beneath slick briefs. “Nah, we can get all complicated with it later. Just enjoy yourself for now, it’s all about you. But, uh, this is gonna look super weird. Sorry. There’s only one way to get the lube out. But it’s just lube, I swear,” he laughed, eyes averting in mild embarrassment. His hand pumped a few times.
Robin watched him touch himself, her lip bit and a quiet voice in her mind craving to discover more. His penis looked much the way it had the first time she’d seen it in his great escape from Water Seven, though now flushed and heavy with arousal. His hand glided over the external organ. A milky bead began to form on his tip, thumbed and reused in a quivering pull. The sound grew viscous the harder he worked. Instinctive action indicated a consistent repetition of self-satisfaction for the cyborg. After a moment, he let go and showed her his hand. A thick, glossy fluid clung to his fingertips. “Oh!” She exclaimed. “Can I ask a question?”
“Anything.”
“Would you mind telling me what it tastes like?”
“Wanna try?”
“Am I able to?”
“Oh, yeah!” He beamed. “When we’re playing like this, you’re totally able to chase that lil’ curiosity. If you want to try something, or if you think something might feel good, just say it. Worst thing that would happen is it just isn’t for you. You don’t like it, we don’t do it.”
She brought his sticky hand up to her face, inspecting closely. “What if it’s weird, though? What if I say something wrong, or I like something strange?”
“Yeah, that’s part of being vulnerable with each other, it ain’t ever perfect. It’s not a matter of if you’re into something a lil’ weird. It’s more like figuring out what type of weird you inevitably will be. If you open yourself up to the process, you’ll find out more about yourself. And you’re gonna figure out a lot about me. There’s sort of a reason I assumed you’d be a bit of a freak, but we can ease into it. Don’t worry, that’s Sex Ed 401, you’re still in the foundational course. Or, maybe I’m wrong and there’s absolutely nothing weird about you. But I think if that were the case, you wouldn’t be asking the super cool cyborg to be your first.”
Robin burst into laughter, then brought his coated pointer to her lips. She lightly licked his tip before properly suckling on his pad. The taste wasn’t quite what she’d been expecting—sweeter through the middle notes, nasal iron in the soprano and briny seas in the bass. Warmth spiced her throat. “That is a good point. You really made this?” She asked without releasing him, lapping again.
“Yeah, you would believe how many nights I lost gettin’ the consistency just right,” he laughed, an exasperated eye roll in academic sympathy. “You wanna see how it feels?” He pulled back from her lingering tongue, though he bopped her gently on her bottom lip on his way out. The slippery sensation met the growing wetness between her legs. Robin moaned when her clit was excited once more, but he moved on before she could enjoy herself too much.
Franky held her closer as he aligned himself with her vulva, though he looked like he was preparing to give another longwinded diatribe in preparation. Impatient to start, Robin pressed her hips down before he could open his mouth further. She tensed, waiting for the sting, but the slick plasma coating his finger helped alleviate the burn. Instead, she was filled with the sensation of the push, the pull. Muscles sizzled like a deep stretch, one that leaves one breathing lighter in the end.
“Oh,” Robin heaved. Jaw dropped, lips split, brow cinched.
Once she’d taken a fair amount of him, he paused. They held in simple expression as she acclimatized to the feeling. Franky’s fingers didn’t move. Everything slowed. He whispered small encouragements, guiding her toward pliant tranquility. He kissed her between his words—once for how beautiful she was, once for how wise she was, once for how brave she was. As he verbally wandered on and on, she allowed her mind to float. Each quiet assurance loosened her heart’s tight corsetry.
A pent shout built in her throat, but at the first curl of his finger, she transformed the shape into a gasp of joy.
That old voice, one of instinct and flight, screamed that this was far too open, far too vulnerable for her. Robin’s eyes glossed over despite the internal nagging. She settled into the mattress— her own bed in her own room on a ship with a crew she knew would not leave her behind. Home was a place where she did not have to worry. At home, she was at peace.
“Are you about to arrest me?” She whispered.
He laughed, not realizing she hadn’t been joking. “Oh, Miss Cherry Popper over here wants to talk super kinky role play the second I’m inside her? We’ll break out the cuffs another time, I dunno if they’ll even work for you. But you can arrest me any time ya want, ma’am.”
The joke, the wink, the lighthearted brush of the topic. He hadn’t even considered a future where he sold her out, a wholly impossible scenario in his universe. Her chin trembled. She reached to cup his cheek.
“Hey, ya hurt?” Franky rushed to worry when her eyes welled. “Am I moving too fast?”
“N-no, I feel so good, thank you,” Robin sniffled, blinking away diamonds. “I just never thought that I would have a chance in this life to feel like this. I never thought I’d find a person to show it to me. Thank you, Franky.” She gasped again, eyes rolling.
He still fussed, though his hand built the pace of its massage ever so slightly. “Are you super sure? Because—”
“Franky!” She grabbed his cheeks between two blossomed palms. “Franky, what I need you to do right now is to finally make me come.”
“Love a direct woman,” the cyborg rumbled. He sat up, lowering her head from his forearm to the mattress with a final caress. Then, he moved to sit on his knees near her hip. The hand inside her pressed the furthest he’d gone yet, making her groan in rolling tension. A pooling sensation filled the humid atmosphere as she properly eased in all the emulsifying slick. Simply to add even more moisture, Franky raised his newly freed other pointer finger to his lips. He held her eye contact as his mouth worked to wet the digit. Her lover seemed to savor in the way each twitch of his finger reverberated through every cell in her body. She watched him as he sucked, trying to figure out his next step.
“So,” he finally began after making her writhe for far too long, “one of the things about gettin’ super good at sex is figuring out how to multitask with hands ’n mouths ’n all that junk. It’s a skill that I think you—” Franky punctuated the word by bringing his lubricated finger to her clit, “—will be super adept at! You could probably do some crazy stuff once you’ve practiced a bit.”
“How do I practice?”
He looked away in a casual, nonchalant shrug. “I dunno. Like, it’d be totally rad if you had like, a super chill crew mate that was like, into doin’ it and would totally be down to help ya. Like a cool pornstar-handyman type work guy. It super sucks that you don’t know a single dude like that out here on the sea.” The bit lip betrayed his cool.
Both of his hands built the pace of their work, machines each serving in a different function. One finger dipped in to open her, and the added one swirled around her clit. The alternating syncopation lifted her hips. He knead her carefully, gaze locked in focus on the sensitivity at his robotic fingertips. His lips part, eyes crinkled in a smile as he mirrored her emotion. Elation bounced off of him and returned to its source, the full moon glowing in the sun’s rays. One finger sped to fuck faster, shortly followed by the second. A master of the craft deeply satisfied her curiosity in the pleasure.
“I-is it supposed t-t-to feel l-like this?” Robin fought to speak through all the other little involuntary noises she made. She convulsed in petite exorcism.
“Depends,” he said.
“O-on?”
“What’s the feeling feel like? Tell me about it. Is it nice?”
“It’s—It’s incredible, but it’s more than I c-can say. There’s,” she moaned as she closed her eyes, “there’s a s-star, a star for just m-mmmm-me. Wide a-and warm and r-round. I c-can feel its heat. Oh, oh, oh and it's g-getting closer, it wants me to delight in-in the fire. E-Every time you touch me, it reaches out. It wants to fill me, fill my heart and mind and and I-I-I—I’ve never felt like this, oh.”
He chuckled from above. Shoulders set, and he flared with the same look he got in his eye when he locked in to make upgrades on his masterpiece. Pectorals heaved. The woman he satisfied with finesse couldn’t tear her eyes away from him. Pure delight in the task oozed from his bare shoulders, and he’d armed himself in full bodied confidence. Franky was having the time of his life showing her the time of her life, and he wanted her to know it.
The sight of him glowing in her light excited Robin to no end. Her sight wandered, scrolling down his body from his face to his abdomen, and then—
“Franky can—ah—I ask you another q-question?”
“Always!”
“C-can I touch you now?” She fought through her ecstasy to ask, her hand reaching for the novel object of her desire.
“Oh, now she asks,” Franky laughed. “I let it slide the first time ‘cos the memory’s been gettin’ me off nonstop for weeks, but now that we’re here, you can’t just grab ‘em outta the blue any more. If you break ‘em off, only person losin’ out is you. I’ll show you how to properly touch when we have our next lesson. But you can check it out. Gently.” With that, he repositioned so that he was close enough to grip. A few more hands than expected rose to investigate his cock. They palmed the soft, synthetic skin, and wrapped just enough around his thighs so that her fingers could hold his sack in mild tension. She squeezed slightly and watched his desperation grow in response, similar to how he’d been testing her all night.
“You’ve been thinking about me—mmmm—touching you?” Robin asked, torn between the desire to investigate his body and his offering of gratification to her’s. “You think about it when you t-touch yourself? It wan’t a sensual touch, I-I hurt you.”
He closed in, leaning without slowing his fingers’ encouragement. “Super fine line between pleasure and pain, once you go looking for it. You wanna know something, Nico Robin?” Franky asked, his lips finding her cheek once more. Words rumbled directly into her skin. “I have had the wildest dream every night since the day I joined this crew. I’m always working on building a ship on the scrap island, but then I remember I’m late for school. So I drop what I’m doing, turn around, and run back through the city. But wouldn’t ya know it,” he chuckled as he kissed her properly, dragging his touch down soft walls until she gasped. “I realize I ain’t wearin’ any pants. So after running through the city naked, I burst through the door to the classroom. It’s always empty, everyone’s already gone home, but the professor is sitting at the desk. Super sexy fuckin’ lady, tight skirt, hair pulled back, buttons on her blouse holdin’ on for dear fuckin’ life. So I storm into the classroom, and she stands up and stares at me. You know what she always does next?”
“H-hmm?”
“She grows two arms from my hips and tries to rip my balls off.”
“You have a v-v-v-very active imagination and I cannot imagine why your brain would pop-populate such thoughts. What happens next in your dream?”
“It always goes from her making me scream from the other side of the classroom to me making her scream bent over her desk,” he said into her ear. Dense fingers brought her closer to such a point in the more material realm. “Skirt all rucked up, nylons ripped open, tits free, hair super messy, moanin’ my fucking name. Well, until…”
“Until?”
“‘Till a train crashes through the blackboard, running us over. But that’s just how all my dreams end,” Franky chuckled. She joined him in laughter, belly releasing pent worry. Her lover pivoted when he felt her desperation. “Hey, Nico Robin. Can I ask ya a question? I got a curiosity myself.”
“O-oh? I can’t imagine you having a-anything to learn.”
“Would ya mind telling me what you taste like?”
“I—I don’t know.”
He grinned wide, kissed her for safe travels, and then pulled away from her face. “Can I find out?”
Upon her nod, he twisted along her side so that his lips could find her hip. After a breath, he leaned in, tongue outreaching hungrily for her overworked clit. Muscle swirled along her flesh. A wet heat filled her with potent sunshine. Every little twitch of his persuasion brought her closer, closer, closer. The unseen cliffside appeared all around her once again, but this time she could not pull away. Instead, though, Franky pulled back. His mouth soon disappeared in favor of a swirling finger.
“Why d-did you stop?” She practically pleaded, too close to a whine for her own liking.
“‘Cos I can’t watch your first proper come from down there. I’m super glad to know what you taste like, and trust me, I will be back. But this is a rare lil’ sight. Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Oh, you look super good, fuck. I’m so excited for you!” He grinned, wide and genuine. Playful delight shook his shoulder. “You’re having fun, feeling good? You wanna do more in the future?”
“Please!”
“Yeah, I think she’s there. I wish you could see this from where I am. You look like you feel awesome, don’t’cha? Fuck, I can’t wait to fuck you,” he moaned a little, bucking slightly into her hand out of reflex.
“W-what do I do next?”
“Just let go, sit back, allow yourself to just enjoy, just be. Let that big ol’ sun consume you. All you gotta be is you.”
Robin’s eyes squeezed shut, but it only helped to harness a supernatural evocation. The darkness of the abstract shapes behind her lids shifted as a new eye opened out of tangible instinct. The pinhole grew, inverted camera obsucra of her own comfortable cabin reflecting through her mind. Franky didn’t notice her open an eye on the ceiling, but then again, very few tended to. She was discreet. Two dozen remained anchored around the ship, even in her plentiful distraction. The habit toward cautious local omnipresence was one not so easily dropped.
The warmth of the bedroom filled her mind’s focus, setting itself apart from the background monitoring. The low lamps kept an ochre cast radiating over her own slicked body. She looked as she felt; twisting with each twist and rolling with each roll. Pillows and soft blankets nestled her exposed form, cocooned further still by an impenetrable fortress of iron and turrets and wandering lips. Welded musculature locked into place. He hunched, protective—no. Focused. The machine only had one duty, but the man behind it had even bigger plans.
Oh, what an excellent teacher. Exactly what she’d been waiting for. Knowledgable. Patient. Creative. Kind.
The sight of the act filled her eye. Franky perched halfway on top, though he held himself in a way that never pressed his bulk against her. Perhaps he’d been right about additional strange curiosities inevitably surfacing. The hands that grasped him in delicate curiosity grew slicker by the second. Dozens of her fingers felt him buck. He leaned close to her body in a contortion that wouldn’t have worked if he hadn’t been eight feet tall. His doting eyes, cut with scientific curiosity but sanded in love, blinked just centimeters from her jaw. She felt his lashes whisper, but would have not known the look of adoration they draped if she hadn’t been watching from the outside. Her lover bit his lip in growing anticipation.
“Y’know, I can’t wait to really love you how you deserve to be loved,” Franky said. His gaze never faltered. The vision finally caught her. A singular tear dropped from the ceiling, seen by none.
For the first time in her history, Nico Robin felt fully and truly safe.
The instinct toward the spark was quieter than she’d ever expected it to be. Hidden, barely a whisper. The thought rolled in Fibonaccian unfurling, starting in a curious corner in the back of her mind and prickling up her crown. The delight gained speed once it had rolled to the peak of her brow. It crested and crashed from the tip of her nose and the peak of her cupid’s bow. The drop fell, thick honey that unspooled in dripping trails. Her ripple continued to effloresce from there, a seed rooted in her epicenter heart. Everything stirred just under her skin. Franky was too enamored by the way her face looked—fringe slick with dewing sweat, brows lifted high, eyes squeezed tight, nose crinkled, lips part, jaw dropped. Tight but without a worry in the world. A face she’d never seen on her own face before. A wondrous scream resounded from her heartstrings.
“Oh,” she seized, losing total control before she could even realize it was too late to stop the chain reaction. “Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! OH!”
“And there she is. Enjoy the ride, babe.”
The wave running just below her flesh continued on its path, gaining momentum by the second. She watched Franky watch the etherial shudder manifest from the front row seats. He grunted under his breath and strained to keep his eyes open. It wouldn’t be until much later that she’d know for certain that he’d fallen apart in her hands at the sight of her. Her own joy traveled in a realm beyond light, dimension, time. It reached the bounds of her body, the threshold between her self and the rest of the world.
And then
it continued on, reaching out in the next realm beyond that. The ripple of Robin’s joy spread like colonial quaking aspen, an overgrown forest all sprouting from just one body. Her consciousness followed the roll beyond herself, a shudder that ran into her box springs, then down through the floor, across the rugs, and up the walls. She continued on, feeling the release of freedom too overwhelming in all the rooms she’d hidden eyes in. Spatial potentiality engulfed her, or she engulfed it. Scattered crew mates—all cleaning and writing and making out in pantries—suddenly stopped and recoiled at the sight of the something fleshy vining in the shadows. Verdant gardens swiftly burst from her overflowing soul.
The wave bounced over the deck, her body at one with the vessel, physically connected through the devil’s power, both tethered by the equal adoration of one very devoted craftsman. Eventually, the bountiful sea of her hands met the sea they sailed upon, and any remnant expression into the aether was lost to salt and sin.
Her billowing pink petals filled the entire ship with her jubilation.
For a brief blip of space and time, she was everywhere. She was the world.
Nico Robin awoke, though she did not remember how she had fallen asleep. She did not hear a sound. None of her safeguard eyes nor ears were open; the tense film of her surveillance had broken and the constant chatter reduced to. silence.
She could feel a drumming heart beat lingering between her legs, a spot she’d never known before.
She could hear the drumming of some complex machine, an unknown bulk that supported a whole lot of man. One who cared, who taught her without judgement, who she’d trusted. He’d curled around her as she’d rested, similarly lost in the quiet haze.
And she could hear the drumming of boots on the deck.
“Robin!”
“Where are you?”
“We’re under attack!”
“What the hell was that?!”
“A ghost!”
Both adults in the bed jolted, practically falling on the floor in the mad scramble for pants. Franky only needed a quick snap and a pull to swing everything on. The cyborg angled himself casually on the couch in a half-assed attempt at not looking suspicious. Robin quickly smoothed a dress over her head and a robe atop that. She checked her bangs in the mirror just as the knock arrived. A phantom hand opened the door, allowing six other pirates to come bursting into the bedroom.
“Robin! What happened?” Someone asked in the pile of tumbling body parts.
She smiled sweetly, trying her best to distract while extra hands hid any remnant evidence of their activity. “I don’t quite know, I’m sorry to scare everyone. I’d gone to bed early and fell asleep, but I must have had a nightmare. They don’t usually manifest like that, it was…quite the intense dream. Please forgive me. I don’t think that will—that will happen again,” she said with a clearing of her throat.
“We just want to make sure you’re feeling alright. You’re having nightmares? How can we help?” The cook frowned in his brimming worry. The doctor fret. The captain looked displeased.
“Were you helping her out, Franky?” Usopp asked, the question starting an unknown domino fall. The navigator perked, suspicion confirmed that someone else had also noticed that the shipwright had already been in the cabin.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. It was a story told in a snapping series of glances, lightning relays of pure bits. Nami looked to Robin still wholly out of worry, but latched immediately onto
the mark.
Cause, effect. Ah. Right.
The look snapped back up now, right as Franky finally answered with a lie about being at the helm and running down quickly to check on her first by a minute. Nami’s brow didn’t believe him, but at least her lips were enjoying themselves. The glance ricocheted, looking for the next mirror to reflect the light. Zoro didn’t catch the thief’s eye, too focused on making sure the crew was safe. Sanji was a similar bust. Luffy caught her look, but couldn’t quite tune his transceiver to the information she broadcast. Chopper had already run off for the medical kit.
Right as she was about to give up hope, Usopp caught her cast from across the pond. He frowned, realizing that there was something to realize, but not knowing what he didn’t know. Robin watched him squint closer at Franky. Everyone else still asked her too many questions, refusing to believe that she was actually, if anything, more than fine. Usopp made a little gasp, presumably catching the wild way the sides of the ducktail had flared, or some other skewed detail. The look of confirmation returned. Yes? No! No? Yes. Yes! No. Yes? Yes! A doubles tennis match of volleying accusations plonked across the four in real time. Usopp’s call. The set up or the mischief? Lil’ bro instinct fought against little brother instinct. He sent it to Nami. She lobbed it to Robin, a long slow question. Interruption, continuation? Her choice in the end.
Robin’s reflexive smile and blush did all the talking for her, when reduced to such a microscopic communication. Nami grinned wide even though Robin hadn’t felt like she’d actually answered the question. The glance locked in when it returned to Usopp, presenting itself as undisputed fact when finally delivered back to Franky.
The cyborg had obviously seen the whole second conversation play out, too, but frowned deep. “Well, uh, if Robin says she’s fine maybe we shouldn’t—”
“Everyone out!” Nami declared, cutting him off and shooing the boys out of her room. Usopp acted as line leader after an overdramatic wink to his big bro. Everyone else still grumbled in worry over Robin, but none raised their doubts against the little redhead. Right as all but three remained, Nami paused and thought to herself. “Actually,” she verbally announced, “I’m going to go take a shower. Feel better, Robin. Let me know if you need anything!”
With that, she waved, pretending as if she could not see the large man still standing in her quarters. Muffled voices spoke to break the remnant crowd up outside. Soon, silence had fallen once again.
Robin giggled. A tinkling, harmonious little thing that broke out amongst the flickering lamplight. She locked the door with a grown arm as she wandered back toward her bed. In a matter of moments, her cheek met the pillow, though a steaming machine and squishy shoulder similarly cradled her head. Franky slid in under the blankets at the same moment so that he could hold her tight. Once they’d settled, he finally began to laugh alongside her.
“Now what do we do?” She asked.
“Nothin’ particular. Just this, just holding ya. Hey. That was, hands down, the craziest orgasm I’ve ever seen. So congrats on a record shattering first! You have a super good time? Was that what you wanted it to be, even if the best’s yet to—heh—come?”
Her quiet giggles burst into full shaking laughter. She rolled onto her stomach, laying atop a steel abdomen. His hands guided her higher for a kiss. “I think these will be very useful lessons. And I’m not one to squander a learning opportunity! Can we meet like this again soon?”
“Babe,” he chuckled low, “you can show up any time that itch starts to get to ya, nine times outta ten I will be free to scratch it for ya. One more question of curiosity, Nico Robin.”
“Yes?”
“How did you always want to lose your virginity? What’s the dream scenario?”
She paused, never having expected the question. She’d spent so many years lost and distant from her body, she’d rarely dared dream of a realm where it was good. But he’d proven himself in the initial round of trust; she had no reason to doubt him. So, she opened her mouth and let her imagination flow. Her mind recalled every steamy little moment from countless pulp novels that made her knees rub.
There was a quiet lull once she had done fantasizing. Her lover’s hand found her thigh once more. He played with the hem of her skirt in working thought. “Yeah, alright,” Franky finally said. “Gimme like, a week to find the right island. We’ll study up plenty in the meantime.”
She bit her lip around a laugh when she felt his hand slide higher up the inside of her thigh. Heat bloomed in her belly once more, even though she was still getting used to the new feeling. “We don’t have to do that. It was just a fantasy. I’d rather have you sooner.”
“Nico Robin!” He gasped, jumping to pin her to her own bed. The mattress squeaked, hiding the similar noise the woman made. He kissed her just enough to get the pulse properly racing, and thick fingers traced the budding familiarity beneath her robe. “I will have you know, I will not be taking your virginity in anything less than the most super radical way I can think of. It’ll be awesome, trust me. And that’s a fuckin’ Franky Guarantee. Now, you all studied out for the night, or you think you can—ha—cram a bit more? ‘Cos I think we miiiight have enough time to go over Lesson Two: Refractory Periods, and your total lack of one.”