The night air around the Flower Capital pulsed with life, lanterns bobbing in the breeze like drifting fireflies while music thundered through the streets. The castle's grand hall was the heart of the celebration, alive with laughter, clinking sake cups, and the heady scent of freshly grilled food. After the long, brutal battle atop Onigashima, victory hung in the air like a sweet perfume — the kind that seeped deep into bone and refused to be shaken off. Kozuki banners draped proudly from every wall, their deep crimson catching the flicker of torchlight. Warriors from every corner of Wano mingled with pirates and samurai alike, their differences drowned in sake and shared triumph.
Robin moved through the room with the quiet poise only she could manage, her every step deliberate yet graceful. Her Wano kimono hugged her body in a way that drew lingering glances without a word spoken — white fabric alive with violet blossoms, cinched at her waist with a vivid sash that made her hourglass figure undeniable. The floral pattern flowed with each step, the high cut of the slit teasing a long stretch of thigh that seemed to glow under the warm lantern light. Draped loosely around her shoulders was the black haori with golden floral trim, its interior a striking red that framed her like a portrait. Every turn of her head sent her raven hair cascading like liquid silk, her calm smile a stark contrast to the chaos and revelry swirling around her.
At the head of the room, grown-up Momonosuke sat beside Hiyori and the senior retainers, his height and build now reflecting the maturity his spirit had carried for so long. Even so, there was a flicker of youthful awe in his eyes as he watched the Straw Hats enjoy themselves — Luffy already drunk and wrestling with Yamato in the middle of the floor, Usopp boasting to any who would listen, and Brook strumming an upbeat tune that kept the crowd swaying. When his gaze drifted, it lingered on Robin longer than propriety might allow. She was speaking softly with Jinbe, her voice smooth as silk, her posture a blend of elegance and quiet strength. The faint lift of her lips at something Jinbe said drew his attention not to her smile, but to the gentle curve of her neck, the way the lanternlight danced over her skin, and the subtle part in her kimono where the sash's knot sat high, accentuating her bust beneath.
As the hours bled away, the roar of the celebration mellowed into a deeper, warmer hum. The grand hall smelled of spilled sake and roasted meats, the haze of smoke curling toward the open windows where the night air crept in. Luffy was still in the thick of it, arm wrestling Yamato for the fifth time, both of them shouting loud enough to shake the rafters. Somewhere in the corner, Zoro had slumped over a sake jug, sound asleep, while Brook's music had turned slower, lazier — the kind of tune that coaxed people to stay put and sink into the moment.
Robin had slipped toward the quieter edges of the room, her back to the paper-paneled wall, sipping delicately from a small porcelain cup. Even in the dimming lanternlight, she looked composed, her kimono's floral print seeming to bloom in the shadows. The high slit teased glimpses of toned thigh whenever she shifted her stance, her haori hanging loose enough to hint at the elegant line of her shoulders. From where he sat, Momonosuke watched her in silence, the conversation at his table fading into a distant blur. His body might be newly grown, his frame matching that of a man in his prime, but the pulse in his chest was pounding like a boy's — hot, restless, and curious.
Rising from his seat, he crossed the floor with a measured calm that masked the tension under his skin. When he stopped before her, the crowd's noise seemed to dim even further, replaced by the faint creak of the wooden floor beneath his weight. "Robin," he said, his voice carrying a newfound depth, though still tinged with the softness she'd known from before. Her dark eyes lifted to meet his, one brow arched ever so slightly. "The night's almost over… but I thought perhaps it could end properly." The way he leaned in just enough for his words to be for her alone carried an unspoken boldness, one that made the moment heavier.
She tilted her head, the barest flicker of intrigue in her expression. "Oh? And what would 'properly' mean for you, Momonosuke-sama?" Her tone was even, playful yet cautious, as though she were testing the edges of his intent. His gaze didn't waver, sweeping once — unapologetically — down the length of her form before returning to her eyes. "To test something," he answered simply, his lips curving with the faintest smirk. "This body… it's still new to me. I'd like to know its strength, its… capabilities. I would have you be the one to help me find them." His hand extended subtly toward the corridor leading to the private wing of the castle, the gesture confident without being overbearing.
The sliding door closed behind them with a muted thud, sealing off the distant sounds of laughter and clinking cups. Momonosuke's chambers were spacious, the faint glow of a single oil lamp casting warm shadows over the polished wood floor and the neatly laid futon at the center. The air smelled faintly of cedar from the beams above, mixed with a subtle note of sake that clung to their breaths. For a moment, they stood there in the hush, the intimacy of the quiet pressing in closer than the revelry ever could.
Robin's eyes moved across the room before settling back on him, her usual composure holding steady, though there was a certain softness in the way her lips parted slightly. Momonosuke stepped toward her with a steady pace, his height now enough to cast her in his shadow. When he reached her, his hands moved to the edge of her haori, fingers brushing the fabric as if testing the permission to slip it from her shoulders. The black and red lining gave way to the full curve of her figure beneath the kimono, the floral fabric hugging her body until his touch coaxed it looser. The sash at her waist came undone with a deliberate pull, the knot loosening until the folds of silk yielded and fell open, framing the swell of her breasts beneath the thin underlayer.
Her hands did not remain idle. As his own haori slipped from his arms, she reached for the ties of his robe, fingers moving with an almost unhurried grace. The layers came apart to reveal the defined lines of his chest, his newly grown body sculpted with a firmness that spoke of training and battle, yet still fresh with youth. The garments pooled around them until there was little between them but the bare heat of skin. When his arms closed around her, the sensation was startling — the solidity of his embrace, the firmness of his hands drawing her in until their bodies met fully.
Her scent filled his lungs, something warm and faintly floral, as he lowered his head just enough for their mouths to meet. The kiss started steady, measured, as though he wanted to memorize the shape of her lips before letting his hunger edge in. His hands traced up her back as her own slid along the ridges of his shoulders, pulling him closer still. The moment deepened, the quiet of the room punctuated only by the faint sound of fabric shifting under their movements, until the kiss was no longer just a meeting of lips but a slow, deliberate claiming — their breaths mingling, her chest rising against his as if to match his pace.
Her lips parted against his, a soft intake of breath betraying the flicker of surprise she felt. The solidity in his arms, the heat radiating from his chest, the way his muscles tensed beneath her touch — it was all so different from the boy she had once known. Back then, their encounters had been tinged with a strange tenderness, almost indulgent on her part, guiding his smaller, inexperienced body through sensations he could barely understand. Now… now there was nothing boyish left in him. Every inch of him pressed against her was firm, honed, and brimming with a virile energy that made her pulse quicken in spite of herself.
When she pulled back just far enough to look at him, the lamplight caught the sharpness of his jaw, the confidence in his dark gaze. Her voice was low, almost a murmur, though her words carried the weight of recognition. "You've… changed, Momonosuke-sama." The corner of his mouth lifted faintly, a flicker of pride in his expression as his hands slid from her back to the curve of her hips, fingers digging in just enough to make her feel the ownership in his touch. "Isn't this what you always wanted?" he murmured, his voice rich, deeper now, yet steady with control. "A man who can truly take you… not just a boy you had to guide."
Her body responded before her mind caught up, leaning into the heat of him as his thumb brushed over her hipbone. She could feel the restrained strength in every subtle movement — not the hesitant fumbling she remembered, but the sureness of someone who knew exactly what he wanted. Her gaze darted lower, catching the outline of his arousal pressing forward, and her stomach gave a subtle twist. This was the same Momonosuke she had taken into her bed before, yet the man before her felt like an entirely new creature — an alpha in every sense, and one that seemed intent on proving it.
Robin's breath caught when her palms slid lower along his back, fingertips brushing the hard planes of muscle that hadn't been there before. The boy she had once known — the boy she had guided, comforted, even taken into her bed in hushed, secret moments — was gone. In his place stood a man whose body radiated strength, heat, and an undeniable dominance that made her pulse quicken. She remembered the way his smaller frame used to fit so neatly against her own, his touch hesitant, curious. Now, every inch of him pressed into her with purpose, his chest broad and firm, his arms wrapping around her with the unspoken authority of someone who could easily take control.
Her eyes lifted to meet his, and she saw it there too — the change. Gone was the shy, awkward gaze of a boy seeking approval. What stared back at her now was sharp and intent, the look of someone who knew exactly what he wanted and had no intention of asking twice. His lips curved into a slow, knowing smirk as if he could feel her realization in the way her breathing had grown shallow, her body subtly leaning into his. "You're… different," she murmured, her voice low, almost uncertain, though the heat in her eyes betrayed the flicker of anticipation beneath her calm exterior.
Momonosuke didn't rush to answer. Instead, his hand slid along her hip, fingers spreading over the soft curve before tracing upward, his touch firm enough to remind her how much more power now lay in his grasp. "I told you," he said quietly, his voice carrying a deep timbre that sent a shiver through her, "this body is new… stronger. You'll feel it." The words hung in the air like a challenge, and before she could shape a reply, his mouth claimed hers again — this time without restraint. The kiss was harder, deeper, his tongue pressing past her lips with a confidence that left no space for doubt.
The memories of their past encounters flared unbidden in her mind, but they were quickly overshadowed by the present — the way his chest crushed against her breasts, the raw heat radiating from his skin, the scent of him filling her senses. She had taught him before, led him through his first experiences, but now… now she realized she might be the one learning how far this "grown" Momonosuke could go.
Momonosuke's hands slid upward from her waist, fingers curving around the lush swell of her breasts through the thin underlayer of her kimono. Robin drew in a faint breath, her eyes narrowing with a mix of amusement and heat as his thumbs traced slow, deliberate circles over her covered nipples. "Still your favorite, hm?" she teased, her tone rich and knowing, though it faltered slightly when he squeezed harder — not the tentative touch of the boy she once knew, but a firm, claiming grip that sent a ripple of sensation through her chest.
He leaned in close, his lips brushing the curve of her neck while his palms kneaded and shaped her breasts, occasionally pressing them together as if savoring their weight. "Bigger than I remembered," he murmured against her skin, the rumble of his voice sending a shiver down her spine. Each squeeze and roll of his hands seemed to test her reactions, drawing out subtle gasps until he finally released her, the air between them warm from their mingled breaths.
Without a word, he moved back and lowered himself onto the edge of the futon, his posture relaxed but his eyes fixed on her with quiet command. Robin understood the unspoken invitation, the shift of their dynamic unmistakable. She lowered herself gracefully onto her knees before him, the folds of her kimono pooling around her thighs as she reached for the sash that hung loosely at his waist. With each tug, the fabric gave way until it slid aside, revealing the lean muscles of his hips — and then, the heavy, prominent outline straining against his last layer.
When she finally pushed the fabric aside, her eyes widened ever so slightly. "My… my," she murmured, a faint, almost amused exhale slipping from her lips. He was bigger — noticeably, shockingly bigger — than she remembered, the size and girth of his cock speaking to the transformation his body had undergone. Even flaccid, he carried a weight and thickness that promised a very different experience than the one she'd known before. Her fingers curled loosely around the base, testing the heat and firmness beneath her touch, and the slight upward twitch in response made her lips curve in a sly smile. "You weren't exaggerating… this is new."
Robin's fingers trailed slowly up the length of him, her touch deliberate, as though she were mapping out this new reality inch by inch. She remembered all too well how, even as a boy, Momonosuke had been surprisingly well-endowed — enough to make their earlier secret encounters more than memorable. But this… this was something else entirely. The sheer length of him was striking, each throb under her palm a reminder of his growing arousal, but it was the girth that made her pause, her fingertips barely able to close around the base without stretching.
Her eyes flicked up to his face briefly, catching the faint smirk tugging at his lips as if he already knew what she was thinking. She pressed her thumb against the thick ridge of his shaft, feeling the way it pulsed beneath her touch, then slid her hand upward until her knuckles brushed the prominent swell of his crown. The skin there was hot, almost feverish, and the way it twitched at her teasing touch made a faint laugh hum in her throat.
Will it even fit? The thought flashed unbidden in her mind, a rare note of uncertainty for a woman who had seen — and taken — more than her fair share of lovers across the seas. Her gaze dropped again, her eyes tracing the intimidating heft of him, from the heavy base to the broad head already glistening with the first signs of arousal. It was the kind of cock that demanded space, that stretched and filled in ways most men could never manage. She couldn't help but imagine the way it would press against her from the inside, the stretch so deep and unyielding it might steal her breath.
"You've… grown in more ways than one," she murmured, her voice low, the faintest edge of challenge in her tone. Her other hand joined the first, wrapping just above it so that both hands now worked along his length, the contrast between her slender fingers and his size making the visual all the more obscene. She tilted her head slightly, letting her hair fall over her shoulder as she added in a quiet, almost teasing murmur, "If this doesn't fit, you might have to be… creative."
Robin's fingers tightened faintly around his shaft as she gave it another slow stroke, her lips parting with a soft, almost nostalgic smile. "Momo-chan, you are so big now," she said, the words slipping out naturally, like so many times before when she had teased the smaller, shy boy she once indulged. But the moment the familiar nickname left her mouth, she caught the slight narrowing of his eyes, the subtle shift in his posture as he leaned forward.
"You keep talking to me that way?" His voice wasn't raised, yet it carried a firmness that made her pause mid-motion. The timbre was deeper now, each syllable weighted in a way that left no doubt he expected an answer — or at least a correction. His gaze locked onto hers, unflinching, and in that stare was none of the bashful uncertainty she remembered. It was the steady, commanding look of a man who understood the authority he now held, both as the Shogun of Wano and as the one sitting before her now.
Her breath eased out in a slow exhale as the realization sank in. This wasn't the same little boy who used to sneak into her futon late at night for warmth and innocent exploration. This was the ruler of Wano, a grown man whose body radiated power, whose presence filled the room even more than the walls and lamp light. The playful dominance that used to be hers in their dynamic was slipping away, replaced by a quiet but undeniable command in his tone, in the way he let her touch him only so much before reminding her whose pace this encounter would follow.
She lowered her eyes briefly, her lashes casting faint shadows on her cheeks, then looked back up with a faint smirk that carried just a trace of submission. "My apologies… Shogun," she corrected, letting the title roll off her tongue with deliberate slowness. The way his lips curved in satisfaction told her he'd heard the shift in her voice — the acknowledgment that the balance of power between them had changed. Her hands resumed their motion along his length, but now her touch felt different, more attentive, as if she were offering not just pleasure but deference to the man he had become.
Robin's eyes lingered on his for a beat longer, reading the quiet authority there, before her expression softened into something far more formal. "It seems I've forgotten my place here in Wano," she said in that low, velvety tone of hers, the faintest curve of a smile tugging at her lips. "You are not just my companion tonight… you are my lord." Her hands gave a slow, reverent squeeze around his shaft, as if to underline the words before she leaned in closer. "Forgive my familiarity, Momonosuke-sama."
Her head dipped without breaking eye contact until the tip of her tongue traced a delicate line along the underside of his cock, starting near the base and dragging upward in an unhurried glide. The heat of him filled her mouth even with such a light touch, and she could feel the way his length twitched in response. One hand remained curled firmly around him, stroking in long, deliberate motions, while her other drifted lower, her fingertips ghosting over the heavy weight of his balls. She cupped them gently at first, testing the firmness, then rolled them slowly in her palm as her tongue worked in languid sweeps up and down his shaft.
The quiet hum of her breath against him was almost as deliberate as her touch, her pace steady and measured, as though she were committing every new detail to memory — the thickness beneath her fingers, the subtle vein patterns under her tongue, the heft of his balls resting in her hand. Every so often, she let her lips press softly to his skin, planting small, lingering kisses along the side of his shaft before moving lower to trail over the sensitive seam between his cock and balls. She took her time, not rushing toward the inevitable, savoring the rare moment where she could both serve and explore this new reality.
Her voice came in a low murmur between licks, her breath brushing his skin. "So much more… than before," she said almost to herself, her tone a mix of appraisal and faint challenge, as though daring herself to take the full measure of him. The next slow stroke of her hand matched the deliberate swirl of her tongue at his tip, coaxing another subtle twitch from him before she pulled back just enough to let the anticipation linger.
Momonosuke leaned back slightly on the futon, his hands resting loosely on his thighs as Robin finally closed her lips around the swollen head of his cock. The first inch slid past her mouth with a slow, practiced grace, her tongue curling around him to bathe every sensitive ridge before she eased further down. He could feel the faint suction she applied — not too much at once, but enough to make his breath tighten — and the way her tongue moved in careful, deliberate patterns that spoke of her experience.
Her hand kept a steady rhythm at the base, twisting and stroking in time with the bob of her head, ensuring that every part of him was under her attention. Every few strokes, she would pull back just far enough to let the head slip free, her tongue swirling over the tip before taking him back in again. The soft wet sounds of her mouth working him, combined with her unhurried pace, made his body hum with heat. He found himself watching her intently, the fall of her black hair brushing against his thighs, the way her cheeks hollowed with each downward motion.
"Mm… Robin…" His voice came low and steady, threaded with a tension that made her glance up without stopping. The sight of her eyes locked on his while his cock filled her mouth nearly undid him, but he held himself there, drawing out the moment. "You're so good at this," he breathed, his fingers curling faintly against his legs before finally moving to rest lightly on the back of her head. The warmth of his palm encouraged her to take him just a little deeper, her throat relaxing around his girth with remarkable control.
The steady rhythm began to fray as his breathing grew heavier, his hips making the smallest, instinctive rolls forward. "I'm… about to cum in your mouth," he said, his voice now edged with command, though still threaded with that deep satisfaction. "Swallow it all." The words struck like a pulse between them, and Robin gave no sign of hesitation. She drew him deep one final time, her lips sealing around him as the first hot spurts filled her mouth. She swallowed immediately, the ripple of her throat milking him through each pulse, her hands still stroking the base to coax every drop.
When he finally eased back, she let him slip free with a faint, wet sound, her tongue flicking lightly over the tip to collect the last taste before straightening her posture. A faint sheen of moisture clung to her lips, but her expression remained composed — elegant even in this act — as if swallowing him down was nothing more than her fulfilling the will of her lord.
Robin shifted gracefully onto the futon, the soft rustle of her kimono pooling beneath her as she lay back against the neatly folded bedding. Her long legs stretched out, the slit in her garment falling open just enough for the lamp's glow to catch the smooth line of her thigh. Momonosuke joined her without hesitation, his presence immediately looming over her as he leaned down to capture her breasts again, his palms cupping and squeezing them with the same hunger he'd shown earlier — but now with a deeper urgency. His thumbs pressed firmly over her nipples through the last thin barrier of cloth until her breath caught, and with a tug, he bared them fully, his gaze drinking in the sight before bowing his head to take one into his mouth.
Her fingers instinctively slid into his hair, holding him there for a moment as his tongue traced lazy spirals over her nipple, the warm pull of his mouth contrasting with the cool air on the other. He alternated between them, switching from gentle licks to firmer sucks until her chest rose and fell faster beneath him. Only then did his hands begin to roam lower, trailing down her sides until they reached her hips. With a confident grip, he eased her legs apart, spreading them wide so he could settle between them, the sight of her exposed and ready making his cock twitch with anticipation.
Positioning himself, he guided his length to her entrance, letting the thick head press against her folds in slow, teasing circles before beginning to push in. The stretch was immediate — hot, tight, and unyielding — and Robin's eyes widened slightly as her lips parted with a quiet gasp. Inch by inch, he fed himself into her, the sheer girth forcing her to relax around him until finally, with one last deliberate roll of his hips, he was seated fully inside. For a moment, neither moved, both of them simply feeling the way he filled her completely, his tip nudging deep in a way that made her nails curl into the sheets.
He lowered himself over her, his hands braced beside her head as his mouth found hers, their lips meeting in a deep, consuming kiss. The first slow thrust came with the kiss still locked, his hips grinding forward until her breath spilled into his mouth in a soft, muffled moan. Then another thrust — deeper, heavier — and her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer. His pace began to quicken, the sound of their bodies meeting echoing softly in the room, until he shifted his weight and pressed her knees up toward her chest.
The new position left her folded beneath him in a full mating press, her breasts pushed up against her chest and his cock spearing into her at an angle that made her nails dig into his back. Her fingertips left faint red trails down his skin with every hard roll of his hips, her voice breaking between moans and short, gasping breaths as he drove deeper. His mouth moved along her jaw and neck, nipping lightly before returning to her lips, each kiss hungry and claiming while he kept her pinned beneath him, every thrust a reminder of just how much he'd changed.
Robin's head tilted back against the futon, the heat and pressure of him deep inside making her thoughts blur — but somewhere in the haze, a memory stirred. That night she and Nami had decided to "teach" young Momo, guiding his inexperienced hands, showing him where and how to touch, letting him taste pleasures he could never have imagined back then. She had thought it was harmless indulgence, maybe even a bit of fun between the three of them. Now, with his cock pulsing inside her as he pumped his release into her in thick, hot waves, she realized just how much that early training had taken root. Every measured thrust, every instinctive grind of his hips told her he had learned well… maybe too well.
When the last pulse spilled into her, he pulled back, his cock slick and still achingly hard. Without warning, he shifted forward, swinging a leg over to straddle her torso. Robin propped herself up slightly on her elbows, her breasts bouncing gently with the movement, only for his hands to immediately seize them — one in each palm, squeezing firmly as he pressed them together around his shaft. The sheer size of them made an almost perfect tunnel of soft flesh, and the moment he thrust through, the slickness from her pussy clung to her skin, adding a sinful glide to every motion.
"Mmm…" His voice was low, savoring the sight below him as his hips moved, the thick head of his cock sliding in and out between the pillowy mounds. "Your giant boobs are a perfect fit for my cock," he murmured, his thumbs brushing over her nipples with deliberate pressure. Then his smirk deepened, eyes glinting with a mix of mischief and certainty. "I know that Nami's will do it too."
Robin's lips curved in a faint, sly smile, her breath warm against the underside of his shaft each time he pushed forward. "Oh? Do you plan to do it to Nami too?" she asked, her tone calm but edged with a knowing lilt, as if already picturing the scene herself.
"Of course," he replied without hesitation, his pace picking up, the wet, lewd sound of her breasts sliding around him filling the quiet. The certainty in his voice left no room for doubt — to him, it was not a question of if, but when.
Robin shifted beneath him with fluid grace, rolling onto her side before pushing up onto her hands and knees. The movement made her breasts sway freely, her kimono slipping down her back until it bunched at her hips. Momonosuke's hands immediately found her waist, thumbs brushing the curve before he gripped firmly and pulled her hips back toward him. The head of his cock pressed once, twice against her soaked entrance before sliding in with a deep, smooth stroke that made both of them exhale sharply.
The sound of their bodies meeting filled the room, a steady rhythm that grew heavier with each thrust. His hands roamed from her waist to her ass, squeezing and spreading her as he drove into her, the angle forcing him deep enough to make her gasp with every roll of his hips. At first, she still held her posture tall, her arms steady, but the longer he kept his pace, the more her back arched and her head began to dip, her breathing turning ragged.
Momonosuke could feel it — the subtle shift in her body language, the way her hips responded instinctively to his pulls, the faint tremor in her thighs each time he bottomed out. Her composure was softening, breaking apart under the weight of his control. He leaned over her, his chest brushing her back, and with one hand still on her hip, the other rose to her chin. Slowly, he turned her head toward him, catching the faint glimmer in her half-lidded eyes before his lips found hers in a quick, hungry kiss that stole her breath.
When he pulled back just enough to speak, his voice was warm but steady, carrying the authority she now fully recognized. "I love you, Robin."
A faint smile curved her lips despite her panting, and she answered without hesitation, her tone soft but reverent. "I love you too… my lord."
Robin's breath was still ragged when she let out a quiet, sultry laugh, her hand sliding along his forearm as he held her in place. "It's a shame," she murmured, glancing back at him with that sly, knowing look, "that Nami was the one to take your virginity back when you were just a little boy…" Her tone softened then, her smile curling into something more genuine. "But I'm happy… and honored… that you chose me to be your first now, in this body."
Her words seemed to stir something in him. His hands moved with purpose, gripping her hips firmly before sliding upward along her sides to the curve beneath her breasts. With a sudden, deliberate pull, he drew her upright until her back pressed flush against his chest. Robin's gasp was swallowed by the sheer sensation of him shifting deeper inside, the new angle making his cock sink further than before. The stretch forced her thighs to tremble, her fingers curling against his as his grip molded to her curves.
She arched slightly into him, her head tipping back to rest against his shoulder, eyes half-lidded from the overwhelming fullness. The closeness allowed him to feel every small shiver that ran through her, and he held her there for a moment — impaled completely, her body molded to his — as if claiming her in a way words could never match. His breath was warm against the side of her neck, the quiet control in his hold leaving no doubt she was exactly where he wanted her.
Robin let out a slow, shuddering breath as the last inch of him settled inside her, the sheer fullness making her toes curl against the futon. Her back pressed tightly to the unyielding wall of his abs, every hard ridge of muscle felt against her spine as if they were carved for the sole purpose of holding her there. The heat radiating from him seemed to wrap her completely, each pulse of his cock inside her matching the steady rhythm of his breathing.
She lifted her arms in a smooth, deliberate motion, draping them back over his shoulders and locking her hands behind his neck. The movement bared her chest completely to him, her breasts rising and falling with each breath, the soft weight of them framed perfectly for his touch. Momonosuke didn't waste a second — both of his hands slid forward from her hips, cupping the generous swell of her breasts with a greedy, claiming grip. His thumbs brushed over her nipples, drawing slow circles that made them harden under his touch, before giving them a firmer squeeze that pressed her back even tighter against him.
Every grope carried an unspoken possession, his fingers kneading her like he had all the time in the world, rolling her breasts in his palms while the heavy heat of him throbbed inside her. Robin tilted her head to the side just enough for her hair to fall over his arm, giving him a clear view of her profile — the parted lips, the faint flush on her cheeks, and the subtle arch of her body offering herself to his hands.
Momonosuke kept her firmly in place, his hips pressing forward in slow, deliberate pulses that made her feel every bit of his length lodged deep inside. His hands roamed over the soft weight of her breasts, alternating between gentle caresses and firmer squeezes, each touch coaxing another breathy moan from her lips. Every sound she made poured into his ears like confirmation — not just of her pleasure, but of her surrender.
Her moans came more freely now, unguarded, each one accompanied by the subtle shift of her hips in time with his movements. He could feel the way her body reacted without her even realizing it — the tightening around his cock, the slight arch of her back to press herself more fully into him, the way her head rested back against his shoulder as if she no longer wanted to fight the rhythm he set.
A slow, confident smirk spread across his face as the realization settled in. The woman who had once guided him, taught him, and indulged him was now yielding to his lead entirely. He no longer had to coax her or match her pace; she was following his without hesitation. His hands moved over her breasts like they belonged to him, and the way her body melted against his told him she had already accepted that truth.
Her voice trembled on another moan as his grip tightened slightly, his breath brushing the shell of her ear. She's mine now, he thought, the sense of control settling deep in his chest — a control not just over her body, but over the woman herself.
Momonosuke's thrusts stayed deep and unrelenting, each one rocking Robin forward slightly while his hands held her steady against him. His voice came low but firm, carrying that mix of authority and intimacy that had defined the night. "I am a very lucky man," he said between breaths, "to have met, on the Thousand Sunny, two such incredible women as you and Nami. Nami has been like a big sister to me… and you, Robin… like a mother."
Her breath caught, a faint tremor of emotion flickering in her voice even as pleasure laced her moans. "Ah… I'm so glad to hear that, Momonosuke-sama. And you… you have grown into a splendid son. Your mother… is so proud of you." She turned her head slightly, her cheek brushing his as she whispered, "I'm just… sad I will no longer be able to be your mother."
His grip on her tightened, his hips driving forward with a force that made her gasp. "You have been my mother," he said with quiet certainty, "but from now on… you will become my concubine." His tone sharpened with intent. "Tonight, I will impregnate you. And hopefully, your womb will soon give birth to the next shogun of Wano."
The weight of his words stunned her for a moment, and she drew in a shivering breath, her body still moving with his rhythm. "Momonosuke-sama… I… I am not worthy of such an honor," she murmured, her voice wavering between humility and disbelief. "I am a pirate… a foreigner to Wano. I've been a fugitive… a mobster… a prostitute…"
He didn't falter for an instant, his voice steady and absolute. "None of that matters," he replied, punctuating his words with another deep thrust that made her moan despite herself. "The children of two kind, beautiful, and clever women like you and Nami…" He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. "Because yes — Nami too will carry my children… and they will surely be gifted. They will be good leaders for Wano."
Momonosuke lay back on the futon, chest rising and falling heavily, the last ripples of pleasure still coursing through him. Robin, still flushed and glistening, lowered herself between his legs without a word, her black hair spilling over her shoulders as she took him into her mouth. She moved slowly, tenderly, her tongue tracing every sensitive ridge while her lips sealed around him, drawing away the last drops with practiced care. When she finally pulled back, she let the tip slip free with a faint, wet sound, her eyes lifting to meet his.
"You're the best, Robin," he murmured with a lazy grin, his voice hoarse but warm. "You've completely drained my balls." She responded with the faintest curve of a smile, leaning forward to press a final kiss to the base of his shaft before settling beside him. The heat of his body, the quiet weight of the room, and the exhaustion of the night wrapped around them until sleep claimed them both.
At dawn, a soft pale light filtered through the paper screens, casting faint gold patterns over the room. Robin stirred first, her eyes opening to find him still asleep, his expression calm and unguarded. She leaned in close, brushing her lips softly over his in a fleeting kiss, savoring the quiet moment before she slipped from the bedding. Moving silently, she gathered her kimono, the silk whispering against her skin as she dressed, tying the sash with precise, practiced hands.
The castle was still wrapped in silence as she padded down the hall, her bare feet making no sound on the polished wood. Sliding open the door to the garden, she stepped into the cool morning air, the faint scent of dew and earth greeting her. She paused beneath the pale blossoms of a cherry tree, her gaze drifting over the mist-softened hills of Wano. For years, the sea had been her world, the Straw Hats her family… but now, something had shifted.
Her journey as a pirate had ended last night. Her future was here, in Wano — at the side of Momonosuke, her lord and master. She let her hand rest lightly over her stomach, the thought stirring a quiet, almost secret smile. Perhaps a new life had already begun inside her… one that would grow to lead this land, born of the man who had claimed her, and the woman who had chosen to stay.