#op caesar clown

[fanaticsnail]

Dreaming of You

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 700+, 900+, 860+, 1,400+

Synopsis: They couldn't help it. You looked so heavenly in their dreams. The way they had you wrapped around their body as a marionette in their minds, dancing for them as they awoke to sticky blankets when they jolted upright. Their thoughts got the better of them, and they are wracked with guilt. Doflamingo, Caesar, Rosinante "Corazon".

Warnings: wet dreams, afab!reader, swearing, masturbation, dub con (Using your image to masturbate to), suggestive content, yandere, obsession, feelings, all individual 'x reader' drabbles, same reader!insert different outcome, NSFW, 18+, MDNI.

Notes: Dreaming of You Masterlist Here, Please read the warnings. I am having a lot of fun with this series, not going to lie. You can sense my favoritism with my word count. First time writing for Caesar Clown. Art link.

Tag list: @sordidmusings @nerium-lil @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @indydonuts @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @carrotsunshine @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training

Legs caging his head beneath you, you drew up your forearm to shield your eyes as the other reached down and braced your trembling hands against his chest. Grinding on his face, his smile grows wider the louder your cries of bliss fall from your lips. 

“I'm gonna-... Mmmgh-... I'm gonna cum again,” you sob, desperately writhing on top of his face in shame. He hooked his large arm over your thigh and braced your lower back over his mouth and held you firmly as he more desperately licked through your body. 

Huffing and panting, he continues driving his tongue between your wet folds and mouthing at your clit. Feeling your whole body tremble above him, he drew his unoccupied hand down to tug at his cock, giving you a show from your position looking down at him. 

His eyes grew black with lust as he watched the involuntary quake of your ass over his face, your voice mewling his name for the fourth time as he chased another desperate spasm of your walls clenching down and contracting in his mouth. 

“Plap, plap, plap.” His tongue greedily bullied your needy cunt, coating his lips, nose and chin in a slicked elixir of your nectar over his face as you desperately sobbed for him. Relentlessly chasing that high of watching you use his body to achieve ecstasy above him, he growled into your body, the vibrations within his mouth causing you to shriek. 

Latching onto your clit, he rolled his flattened tongue over the sensitive bud before mouthing at it in open and desperate kisses. Lapping at your juices, he felt his cock twitch in his hand from pistoning his shaft, squeezing his nob and thumbing over the pearlescent drop of his precum. 

“Can I cum? Can I cum?” you whined for him, gripping his chest and tensing your body above him to halt your eruption from over-encumbering your body in heated bliss, “Please? I'll be good. I'll be so good if you let me cum again?” He growled again into your body, moving both of his hands under your thighs and pinned you to his face by interlacing his fingers. 

As he felt your high approaching, he frantically nodded to give you permission to use his face to usher in the lightning sparks of pleasure over your body. You cried his name, dousing his face in a gush of sickened ecstasy as he hummed up into you. 

“I-I’m cumming,” you mewled, eyes rolling back and grinding down on his face. “I’m c-cumming.” You hummed your praises down at him as you stuttered over his name and sobbed your gratitude. 

Eyes rolling back into his head, he shot rope after rope of cum spattering up onto his torso as you squealed in joy at the display. 

“O-Oh, so much,” you whined down at him, body hands now pressed onto his chest as he slowed down his momentum rolling his tongue over you. “You came so much!” You exclaimed with a soft giggle. He hummed beneath you, softly kissing in open mouthed presses, romancing your pussy with his passionate oscillations. 

He whined against your lips, groaning into you as the aftershocks rush over him in wave after wave of chaotic lightning. Holding you firmly to him, he continued rolling his tongue between your folds like it was the only thing tethering himself to the earth. 

He savored the feeling of your body trapping him with your heat, the way you tasted cumming on his face and drowning him in your ecstasy, as he bucked up with each twitch of his cock spurting his untouched ropes over his stomach and chest.

“Mmm,” he hums into you, flicking his tongue over both his and your lips as he comes down from his high, immediately shocked to see nothing above him in his bed when he opens his eyes. He springs up in his bed, looking around the room for you but finding nothing in his room aside from his personal effects. 

Eyes wide and frantic, he scrambles in his bed and grabs at the bedsheets. Elevating his duvet and glancing down at his bare body, and grimacing at the sticky cum attaching his bedsheets to his quivering cock. 

Doflamingo

“Untouched?” He glared in betrayal at his twitching cock dancing proudly as it deflated, “Untouched?!” He circled his fist over his shaft and choked it within a firm grasp. Beginning to piston his oversensitive cock, he growled at himself. 

“You-...” he pictured the way your pretty little whimpers called his name, beckoning him closer to bliss with each pump of his cock, “...-You little tease.” 

His motions both picked up over his cock, his fist punching his pelvis and balls sucked into his abdomen, as he desperately chased his own release while frantically repicturing consuming yours. He pictured you whimpering above him, your legs shaking like a butterfly loosening the dew from its wings in the morning. 

His eyes rolled black as he continued pumping his shaft, picturing you above him as he did in his dreams before looking to his Den-Den mushi beside him. The sleeping snail snored gently beside his clock, prompting him to grimace at the time depicted beside it. 

“If I'm up and thinking of you,” he growled, reaching his unoccupied hand up to the shell and dialing your personal transponder code, “I'm gonna make you think of me.” As the chatter from the snail awoke, your sleepy tone called over to him from the mouth of the snail. 

“G-... Good morning, sir?” you mumbled to him, the subtle shift of your bed linens rustling caused Doflamingo to roll his hips to the sound, “Why are you calling me at…” you paused to yawn, Doflamingo picturing that cute little squeak you make as you reach the perfect stretch to rid yourself of sleep, “...Three in the morning?”

“Thinking of you,” Doflamingo purred sultrily into the snail's mouthpiece, “Dreaming of you.” You groaned at him, the rustling of the transponder informed him you were moving in your bed. 

“Okay, lord Doflamingo,” you murmured lazily into the mouthpiece, “Got a mission for me? Is that it? Dreaming of me fulfilling some brutal task for you well into the night?” He pictured you sitting up and waiting for him to give you orders, mouth watering as he pictured how eager you'd be to make his vision come alive. 

As the silence hung in the air between you, you offered him one final prompt to offer you a semblance of explanation. 

“Please, sir. Tell me how I can make your dreams come true?” you asked him boredly and sarcastically, “I’ve only just got back from the last mission, carried it out successfully if you were wondering.” He grinned and rolled onto his side and glared into the mouth of the snail.

“You're always so fucking good to me,” Doflamingo praised you, flicking his tongue across his lips, “You'd follow my orders until the day you die, won't you? My dark angel. My deadly assassin. My little muse.”

After a moment of silence, you offer him a disgruntled growl and he pictured you glaring at him through the snail, “What do you need me to do, sir? Can it wait?” He laughed his deep rumble into the mouthpiece before rolling onto his back. 

“You know what you can do, pretty thing?” he purred with a deep rumble into the speaker, “You can listen to me touch myself while I think about you sitting on my face.” His nonchalant attitude had silence falling from your end, prompting him to reconfirm his directions. 

“You hear me, pet?” he snickered at the snail, grasping and tugging at his cock while a sickening smirk split his face in a sinister grin, “Answer me when I give you orders.” A low growl emitted from the other end of the receiver. 

“I am not a concubine, sir,” you snarled your disdain for him into the receiver, prompting him to piston his cock harder in his fist, “Don't treat me like some whore in the night-.”

“-If you were a whore, I'd simply summon you here and ravage your tight little cunt with my cock until I hear you scream my name,” Doflamingo growled into the Den-Den, “Call what I'm asking you to do ‘a kindness’.” He sweetened his tone, purring and cooing at you as if his request was the simplest orders you could ever receive, “All I want you to do is listen to me fuck my fist while I picture you rolling your hips over my mouth.”

After a momentary silence and a sharp exhale of agitation, you growled back at him. 

“If I was rolling my hips over your mouth, you'd be silent and do as you're told,” your blunt response had Doflamingo involuntarily buck into his hand, gasping like a stallion at their first taste of a broodmare. 

“Oh, would I now?” he whispered in a husky tone, thumbing over his nob and groaning at the feeling, “What would I be told to do, mi amorcito? Tell me.” There was another pause of silence between you, Doflamingo waiting patiently to hear how you’d respond to his little taunt. 

“You really want to do this, Doflamingo?” Your harsh chastising broke him away from his harsh momentum of thrusting into his hand and had him stare at the receiver. He hissed out a soft “Yes,” in response, prompting your smirking laugh to rise from the mouthpiece. 

“Then invite me to your suite,” you suggested nonchalantly, “I'd be happy to bully you in person,” you paused, whispering into the receiver with a soft purr, “If you can take it.”

“Oh, I can take it.”

Caesar 

“Wha-...?!” he exclaims in shock, witnessing his cock twitch in betrayal. He sits in silence, staring down at himself in horror. Running his cool digits over the display of lust spurted on his skin and rolled it between his fingers with a grimace. 

“I didn’t-...” his sentence falls short as he looked around his cold room, his lips falling into a soft pout, “...You didn’t even fuck me in my dreams?” His pout deepened, his pointed nose sniffing back a soft sob. 

Rolling out of his bed, he stood tall and winced as he felt glubs of his spend roll down his torso and drop onto the floor. He downturned his smile, sweat pooling at his temple as he walked over to his desk and found a discarded lab coat. Rolling the material over his stomach, he tidied up his mess and sniffed a soft sob back.

“Even in my dreams, you elude me. You run from me,” he looks to a folded manila folder on his desk, opening the crease and looking at your file. The firm words beside your name printed in bold, his blood running cold at the sight. 

With the face of an angel, the softest smile painted on your canceled bounty, he ran his fingers over your printed skin and creased his brows into the center of his head. 

“Doflamingo’s favorite assassin,” he murmured, discarding the lab coat and sitting naked at his desk, “His pretty little pet,” his thumb brushed over your smile on the paper before drawing his palm over the page, “Someone that will never be mine, even if I beg.” 

He whimpered as he stared down at the page, his unoccupied hand circled his cock and squeezed it in his fist. Giving it a testing tug, he sifted through his collection of den-den images of you in the manilla folder. 

Sucking his bottom lip into his teeth, he began to piston his shaft with his firm grip as he focussed on your picture. Your face held such an innocence for someone so deadly: standing beside Doflamingo at a gala, gazing up into the face of Sir Crocodile with a light smile. So pretty, so charming.

So out of his league, you wouldn’t spare him a single glance. 

He began to tug at himself harder, rolling his hips up into his hand as he stumbled upon his favorite three pictures. All so different and holding him hostage to how he could picture your face contorting in pleasure as he chased his high in his hand. 

The first was a simple image he had managed to snap as you sat across him at the table: in your simple Donquixote assigned uniform as you paid attention to every word relayed from Doflamingo. You had an air of confidence, your chin angled high and a soft purse of your lips.

“Hhah-...” he whined through his pants, feeling himself come closer to the edge as he pictured what it could be like to kiss those lips and feel your face against his. Shaking his head, he moved onto the second image in his collection.

The vengeance and wrath written on your face as it was covered in violent bloodlust, your weapon in your hand and standing victorious after landing your final blow. You looked like you would’ve ripped your enemies’ throat out with your teeth to win that fight, and he wanted to be the target of that feral gaze so desperately. 

“Nnnghh-...” he whimpered, his cock beginning to twitch, his balls sucking up into his stomach as he continued to stare down at his collection of pictures of you. His jaw fell slack, him finally finding the last picture of you: one he was sure you thought was destroyed for good. 

The picture was soft, well loved from the firm grip Caesar would hold it in regularly, peeling up at the corners and creased. Your face was flushed, your eyes wide and looking up with an almost adoring innocence, your hair pinned out of your face and dressed in an outfit intended for flamenco. 

Your skin was revealed in a lusting dip, the pink of the material dipping over your chest in a deep 'V' and cinching in the small of your waist and flaring at the hips. The amount of flesh revealed beneath the material held such contrast to the innocence of your eyes. 

“F-F-F-...” he huffed, sucking on his bottom lip and feeling himself spill over into his hand, spurting ropes of hot, sticky cum against the underside of his desk, “...Fuck.” He rocked his hips in time to the spurts, feeling his eyes begin to prick with the similar sting of tears each time he tainted your image in this way. 

Hot rolls of his glassy tears spilled from his eyes and trickled down his cheeks into his quivering lips. Sobs escaped his mouth, sniffing back the heavier cries as he placed your image back into the manila folder and shut the crease closed. He placed his head over the cardboard exterior and his shoulders began to shake with sorrow. 

“No wonder you don’t like me,” he muffled between his whimpered sobs, “I’m fucking pathetic.” 

Rosinante “Corazon”

He sprung up from his bed and immediately stomped over to his bathroom with shock written on his face. He ran the shower, remaining unblinking and appalled at himself as he stepped beneath the pelting water. 

“Silence,” he whispered, clicking his fingers beneath the water and creating a rotund, soundproof barrier within the small cubicle and immediately balling his fist and slamming it against the damp ceramic. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He growled at himself, clenching his eyes shut and haunted by the image of your body using his face to grind and shake on his tongue, “C’mon, Rosinante. You’re a marine, you’re a spy, you’re a double agent, you’re the son of a celestial dragon, you’re-... you’re-...” he looked down at his cock, his shame washing away with the hot water and pooling at his feet before swirling in the drain.

“...-You’re in love?” he tilts his chin to the side as his heart hammers heavy within his chest, “In love with an assassin sworn to kill the likes of you without a second thought.” He huffs, lifting his head in the air and allowing the scorching liquid to hammer at his face. Shaking his hair, the drops cling to his golden locks and coat his forehead and eyes with the damp curls. 

He brings up his hands and cards them through his hair, staring up at the circular shower head and pouting. The drops do nothing to stifle the smoldering embers in his heart, the image behind his eyes are only of you and your smile. 

Drawing his mind back to your encounters of the past, he was touched that you had learnt to sign with your hands to speak and translate for him at meetings to save time and paper. Those signs he loved seeing you flutter at him to entertain him at social galas, the humor of your risque commentary you give him with simple gestures of your hands with a completely straight face. 

Your kindness in such a dark place had been refreshing, especially considering your title of Doflamingo’s favorite assassin led him to assume you were just as horrible as his brother was. He viewed your smile as a gift, your offer of a dance as a blessing, and the protection of your constant rapid dexterity to manage Doflamingo’s temper, and maintain your standing effortlessly, had him immediately targeting you for unintentional aid in his private cause. 

“Fuck,” he whispered, hanging his head and shifting the water to pummel at his neck and shoulderblades, “Shit,” he shook his head and thumped at the shower wall once more. His hand slipped on the condensation, sliding to the side and propelling his forehead to beat against the tiles with a slick ‘thud,’ prompting him to hiss out a curt: “Ouch!”

After showering, drying himself off, dressing and painting his signature smile over his cheeks, he began the soft trudge into town with his hat clasped firmly over his head. A embroidered card with his heart written within the contents, a bouquet of dark red el ceibo, large and soft pink roses, and several sprigs of yellow calafate, and the promise of potentially spending a night together, was propelling him to approach the training room you took.

Knocking twice on the doorframe beside the door, he witnessed you in your training garb pummeling into a hanging boxing bag with your hands bound in wraps, and your ankles strapped. Noticing the knock, you curled your head up at him and offered him a soft smile. 

“Corazon,” you halted the swinging of the bag by pressing your hands against the material, “Something the matter, sir?” He noticed your inquisition, your brows immediately furrowing in confusion the moment you looked at his hands. Gulping back his courage, he held out his gifts and darted his apprehensive, hazel eyes between yours.

“Cora…” you look to his hands and back to his face for further explanation, “What are you doing?” He triangulated his brows up, silently begging you to take the flowers and the card from his outstretched offering. You slowly reached your bound hands toward him and claimed the flowers and card from him without tearing your eyes from his. 

Placing the flowers and card on the bench where your bag was, you looked down to his hands and back up to his eyes before narrowing your pointed gaze up at him. Rosinante physically stuttered with his hands, thankful his Devil-Fruit silenced the soft whimper from fleeing into the air. You waited patiently for further information from the tall, silent Donquixote brother, folding your arms over your chest and pointing with your eyes down at his hands once more. 

Rosinante sighed, his hands moving in fluid gestures to depict his thoughts with his fingertips and palms, “I wanted to give you something nice, tell you how I feel about you, and ask if you’d allow me the opportunity to see where we go. If you’re receptive to my advances-.” Stepping towards him, you press your hands over his wrists to halt his flurry of rapid gestures.

“Why are you doing this, sir?” you hush your voice into a low whisper, darting your eyes between his and seeming to panic, “I-... We-...” you trail off, your hands gripping him painfully hard, “...Please don’t do this, Corazon.” 

His own eyes widened in panic, unsure as to why you’re gripping him so hard and seeming to reject him so harshly. Glancing down at your eyes, looking to your lip, your hard mask began to shift as he mirrored your expression. He kicked the door to the training room closed behind him, motioning the both of you out of sight of the den-den-snail in the corner of the room. He held his middle finger with his thumb: uttering a simple word, “Silence.”

Shock wrote itself on your face the moment he spoke and maneuvered you around the room with poised elegance and ease. He gulped back his nerves, uttering a simple few words: “Code: 0-1-7-4-6, Rosinante. Based at Headquarters under Fleet-Admiral Sengoku. Current rank: Marine Commander. Mission: find the ope-ope-no-mi, and stop my brother’s insanity from plaguing the masses. Four years serving under cover.” 

His lip quivered as he darted his eyes between yours, and hoped his assumption was correct. You gulped your own hesitation, clenching your jaw at his admittance before speaking your own. 

“Code: 3-0-1-3-7,” you whispered your name beneath your breath, hardening your resolve further with your brow creased firmly, “Based at sea under Vice-Admiral Garp. Current rank: Marine Captain. Mission: keep Doflamingo from gaining too much dominion over the other warlords, and maintain the status quo as his most trusted assassin. Seven years serving under cover.” 

Rosinante huffed out a sigh of relief, his shoulders physically dropping as if a weight had been lifted from its perch against him. Your lips twitched up in a soft smile, looking between his eyes and releasing his wrists from your grip. 

“You can talk,” you nod at him, huffing out a small agitated laugh, “This whole time, you’ve been making me talk for you by translating ‘sign’ for the others here, and you could talk the whole damn time.” 

“I didn’t make you do any of those things,” he reached up, tucking your hair behind your ear and leaning down towards you with a soft expression, “And I like hearing you talk for me. My words sound prettier spilling from your lips.” You laugh at him, shaking your head and reaching up your hands to his fingers once more. 

“What made you break?” you asked him, darting your eyes around his painted lips and his pointed blue markings beneath his left eye. He gave you a crooked smile, caressing your cheek gently before parroting back your sentiment with, “What made you?”

“I just-...” you huffed out an exasperated breath and straightened your shoulders, “...I couldn’t lie to you, Corazon. You always felt different, somehow. Special, even,” you laughed in a soft pant, “What gave me up?” He smiled, pressing his golden hair against your forehead and closing the distance. 

“You had that look in your eye,” he crooned down in his deep baritone, shooting tingles up your spine, “The one that I just knew you were like me,” he mirrored your laugh, wrapping his arms around your neck, “And I couldn’t lie to you, either.” 

You nod to him, looking at the flowers and card, and back up at him with a curious look on your face, “What made you do this now?” A warm blush grew over his face, prompting him to suck his lips into his teeth and snicker.

“In the spirit of remaining truthful with you,” he rubbed his nose gently with yours, “I have a confession to make about last night…”

[mosi13]

Caesar with his baby (i love Smiley, WHY HE KILL HIM)

The second drawing is older but fits very well lmao 🤓

[melodich4n]

Punk Alt Caesar Clown 💜

[merbear25]

The image of us (Yandere! Caesar)

You just wanted to connect with people. The interests that you couldn't really share with anyone in real life kept you feeling locked up within your own mind. An online community - your online community - was a type of safe haven, but even through all of the comradery, you’d unknowingly put a target on yourself. 

a/n: I'm crazy about him in the least healthy was possible.

CW: NSFW, MDNI, fem!reader, Modern AU, Yandere themes (parasocial relationship, stalking, manipulating into sex, threats to reader’s personal safety), vaginal penetration, filmed sex, rough sex

The seemingly endless support came through the chat the longer you streamed—generous amounts of donations, albeit sporadic, were never left unthanked or unappreciated. Such support only encouraged you to spend more time online—glued to your screen whether it was on the streaming platform or your blog. The constant influx of acceptance was what kept you afloat.

Streaming a playthrough called the most attention to your rising online presence, yet your heart laid with your blog. Despite the outgoing appearance you kept up on camera, deep down you craved a bit of solitude. Allowing yourself to sit comfortably behind your blog, answer questions at your own pace, write your analyses on your favorite characters, shows, and whatever sparked your interest created an environment which was less pressurized.

You were tossing around the idea of cross promotion. Thinking that the increase, potentially even a spike, in numbers would open the floodgates of donations. Admittedly, the attention, no matter how surface level, brought a smile to your face. Even if that joy was skin deep, it was intoxicating to an extent—leaving you wanting, needing more and more. However, the sense of privacy you wanted to maintain was just barely keeping you from biting the bullet.

The viewers, your followers, were secured behind a screen regardless of what platform you showcased yourself on. Letting your personality run more freely through your posts, you frequently engaged with ask games which granted your followers a better opportunity to get to know you.

“Hiiiiii!! 4 please!” A fun, light-hearted question sent straight to your inbox. 

Nothing that required much thought. “I’m a sucker for romance movies. Such a hopeless romantic and love the idea of being swept off my feet.” As you posted your response, glimmers of finding that special someone phased in and out.

The hours passed before you realized—cuing you up to start your evening stream. As the viewers came pouring in, commenting on your gameplay, and scattering donations, the attention never failed to give you a confidence boost.

Putting on a pretty face for the camera sometimes meant giving them a version of yourself that you weren’t even sure was real. You found purpose in it nonetheless.

“What was the last movie you watched?” Chimed in with the jingle you’d assigned to text to speech.

An easy answer. “Airplane! It’s an oldie but a goldie.” With the comments coming, some saying how much they love that movie and others stating that the humor doesn’t hold up, you kept your reactions light-hearted—humorous even.

“No romance movie?” The next one came in from the same user. That question seemed just a bit specific, but you rationalized that to paranoia trying to best you. 

Not allowing it to derail the conversation you were having with the rest of the chat, a nonchalant ‘Nah, not recently’ came out.

With the stream coming to an end, the chat flooded with goodbyes and see you next stream. When you signed off with a bright smile on your face, as soon as you signed off and covered the web camera, the high began dwindling.

There was a certain rush you felt when you were on camera, one that no post you made could ever compete with.

Unwinding after a soothing bath, you flipped on 50 First Dates and mouthed your favorite parts just like you did the night before. You’d slipped into a deep sleep before it ended, missing the ping on your phone.

—------------------------------------------------

“If you’re still doing it, can I ask number 12?”

You blinked at it, thinking that you didn’t exactly have a routine. The one you did have heavily involved your streams. You noted the things that were consistent: getting a coffee, cooking for yourself, home exercises.

Later that day you posted a photo of your regular order while at your favorite cafe—a dash of cinnamon sprinkled on top to stand it apart from other lattes.

Faint hissing had you looking around the coffeeshop. No one else seemed to notice the sounds, though, and they faded shortly after.

With two hours until streaming, your journey home didn’t take you long. Scrolling through your feed, a notification popped up in your inbox. The faint hissing returned as you read:

“What’s your favorite coffee place?”

The question went unanswered.

That same happy-go-lucky smile was painted on once the camera started rolling.

It must have been a coincidence. Even so, that coincidence was still sending a shiver down your spine hours later.

The night was still young, but you couldn’t really be bothered staying up with your thoughts. You called in early, that same noise from earlier visited you, drifting in and out.

—------------------------------------------------

Your head still needed clearing, even after a restful night. The cool breeze and morning sun aided your jog. Passing through the streets, your tunnel vision attempted to block out the world around you. 

Turning a corner, you accidentally bumped into a man. Fumbling an apology, you instinctively checked if he was okay.

The glare he held could’ve burned a hole right through your core, but after those piercing gold eyes scanned your face, his scowl softened. 

After a faint huff, his demeanor did a 180. “Don’t worry about it! Accidents happen.” 

His eyes ran over your body, soaking in each finite detail etched into you. A shiver ran down your spine the longer your eyes lingered on his. With such unique features, you couldn’t help but find a certain appeal to him.

A sly grin slowly stretched across his face, breaking the trance you were caught in. Before you scampered off, he took a risk in asking, “Can I give you my number?”

Rising heat prickled your cheeks. You nodded and whipped out your phone, watching his long fingers linger on the screen.

“I look forward to hearing from you.” He flashed a charming smile before continuing on his way.

Flinging the door open to your apartment, you plopped on your bed, eyeing the new contact ‘Caesar’ in your phone. Not wanting to come off as desperate, you took a couple hours to text him.

Rewriting that first message, the overthinking of each word and tone they could display was putting more pressure on you than necessary. 

“Hey, it’s the klutz from earlier!” You took a deep breath and sent it. Twiddling your thumbs as you waited for a response, you worried if the quirky way of referring to yourself wasn’t at all funny or cute.

With the buzzing signaling a response, the backlight illuminated the relief on your face.

—------------------------------------------------

Each message sent then after felt easy—hitting it off like this was surreal. You had never really gotten along with someone so well so quickly, nearly effortlessly. 

The days following your first encounter helped nurture your feelings for him. Attentive, charming, the way he expressed interest in you: how could you not want to explore your relationship with him? 

You put your heart on the line and invited him out on a date. “A woman who isn’t afraid to take charge. I like that about you.”

With a select few to share your excitement with, you popped by to see your friend who lived in the area. You both spent time gossiping, drinking a bit, and catching up. Seeing as you had waited a while to get back into the dating scene, she wanted to know all about the guy you were talking to, which you gladly informed her on.

The sun had long since set, signaling for you to head home. With the walk being much too far to take alone in the dark, catching the bus at the stop a couple of streets over appeared to be your safest option.

The echoing of your heels clicking on the pavement created an emptiness within the crowded city. Soothing your rising stress, you shot a text over to Caesar, letting him know you were heading home as he’d requested.

Nearing the bus stop, you jumped from the sound of metal falling. Peering down the alley, you thought it best not to investigate, instead hurrying forward. Rushing past the townhouses as fast as you could, you told yourself the bright streetlamp the bus stop sat under would offer a sense of security.

With the flood lights out front being set off by you, each house drew more attention to the woman who was alone and defenseless. Looking over your shoulder in hopes that you’d be met with nothing but the city, the backyard flood lights from the third house behind you went off. Slowing your pace at first, when the next bulb from the back flickered on, panic clouded your mind.

You thought it might be better to try running, but due to your heels, you wouldn’t be able to outrun whomever was following you.

When that familiar hiss crept in, you fumbled with your phone to call your friend. As it rang, the hissing grew louder and the lights from the houses you’d rushed past barreled towards you. The wind was picking up, swirling around your feet and tangling your hair.

You refused to face what was coming for you, fearing that what you would see would be your last. 

“Hello?”

A final gale wind forced over you, taking your breath with it momentarily

“Hello, (y/n), are you there? Is everything okay?”

“C-can you just stay on the phone with me until I get home?”

—------------------------------------------------

“Hey, have you arrived home yet?”

“Did you make it home safely?”

The repeated pings stirred you awake, but the ringing gave you more of a reason to give this person attention.

Giving them a groggy ‘Hello?’, you rubbed your eyes as Caesar expressed his concerns.

“You didn’t tell me when you got home. I was worried something happened to you.”

“Sorry, I…something weird happened and I was too shaken up to remember.”

The silence felt tense. “Were you hurt?”

“No! Nothing happened. I was just spooked by the wind, essentially.”

He chuckled after a moment, the subtle drumming of his fingers on the table were barely audible. “Good to know. Sleep well, darling.”

When he hung up, you were left with your own thoughts—wondering if that final sound was a hiss.

—------------------------------------------------

“You look trusting.”

That statement had been sitting in your inbox for a couple of hours. You weren’t sure whether it would be better to ignore it or to keep the response short. After all, you had no idea who these people were and were nervous that you would make others feel singled out.

“Oh? Is that a good thing or bad thing? haha!” The tone was intended to be comical. However, the follow-up drained any humor from the situation. 

“It depends on the other person. ;)”

Shaking off this comment was proving to be difficult. You only had a few hours before your scheduled stream and needed a way to cool off. On a whim, you reached out to Caesar, thinking that talking to him would take your mind off of things.

“Are you free to meet up? Maybe for a quick coffee or something?”

As you passed by the tall windows, your attention was easily drawn to the tall slender man waiting for you.

The warmth in his smile when he noticed you put your nerves to rest. He got up to greet you, not expecting the hug you gave him. “Well, hello to you too,” his tone was light and airy.

“Sorry, that was a bit forward.” You backed off from the slight awkwardness you’d caused..

He waved off your apology, viewing it as unneeded. “So, tell me. What’s been making you so jittery lately, hm?”

His question tickled the back of your throat, letting the word vomit of your most recent fears spew.

Each situation you described only painted you as paranoid, each fear made you come across as weak, and each inner turmoil you were experiencing gave him reason to abandon you, all of which were suspicions caused by your own insecurities.

He placed his hand on yours, gently rubbing his thumb over the top of your hand. “From an outsider’s perspective, it would seem that your imagination is getting the best of you.” Cocking his head slightly to meet your fallen gaze, when your eyes met his, he gave you a reassuring smile.

You wondered just how pathetic you must sound. “I’m sorry. I probably sound crazy.” Burying your face in your hands, the heat building in your chest rose as you heard him laugh.

“No, not at all.” Even without looking at him, you could feel his eyes on every part of you. “Tell you what. Why don’t I swing by your place tonight? I could keep you company, take your mind off of all those spooky things.”

The two of you hadn’t known each other for that long - only a few weeks, not even a month yet, and he was suggesting that you potentially spend the night together?

You cleared your throat in an attempt to push down your timid nature. “Yeah, we—you could come by.”

Grinning at you with a glimmer of mischief in his eyes, he lightly slapped his hand on the table. “Excellent! We’ll have fun, I promise.” He winked before checking the time. “Oh! Five o’clock already. Where does the time go?”

You poorly concealed your panic. “I have to go. I’m sorry, I’ll call you when I’m ready for you to come over.”

“I look forward to it.” 

Your shyness was more attractive than you gave yourself credit for. With you tucking your loose hair behind your ear, your bashful nod paired well with his confidence. He chuckled as you clumsily ran out the door, watching you until you disappeared down the street.

You were running short on time before the stream was supposed to start, so you didn’t have time to glance at the question that popped up in your inbox. There were three more pings before you silenced it.

You maintained your natural presence in front of the camera: smiling, friendly, open.

“How often do you check your phone?” A text to speech came through.

“I mean, I check it whenever I can, but obviously when I’m streaming, I don’t unless it’s an emergency.”

A few minutes passed.

“So are you ignoring my earlier question?” Came through and read as aggressive.

“What do you mean? I haven’t received any other questions here. At least, I don’t think so.”

“Check your phone.” As the chat started going wild, asking what exactly was happening and wanting to know what was on your phone, you felt yourself buckling under pressure.

You turned the lock screen on. There were more than thirty messages sent to your inbox. Scrolling through them, they were all asking the same question: “Do you feel safe where you live?”

“So, are you going to answer my question?”

In spite of the chat demanding your attention, you felt like you had no other choice—you had to end the stream. “Sorry, guys!” Your mask of positivity wasn’t as convincing as you thought it was, “I have to end the stream early! I forgot I had something planned. Um, yeah, sorry.”

You ran to your windows to ensure they were locked and then pulled the blinds over them. Dialing his number, you practically begged Caesar to come over as soon as possible.

You gave him the address and informed him to text you when he was there, so that you could buzz him in because the intercom wasn’t working properly. 

Pacing back and forth, you peaked out your windows every now and then to keep tabs on any suspicious people.

When a knock came at the door, you ran to open it. “You got here fast,” you breathed.

“I was already in the area.” You stepped aside to welcome him in.

He took a look around your place, nodding at certain things and raising his eyebrows at others. Turning back to face you, your disheveled appearance left little else to discuss. “You’re looking…worse than earlier. What happened?” 

“I’ve been getting just these creepy fucking messages flooding my inbox.” ‘Creepy? How so?” He wandered over to your windows.

“I mean, look for yourself.” You put your phone in his hands and intently watched his expression as he scrolled through them.

“Wow…”

“Yeah, it’s really… God, I feel like I’m being watched.” You rubbed the sides of your arms in a failed attempt at self-soothing.

“Hey, hey,” he came to your side to comfort you. “Don’t freak yourself out. I’m here now so if anyone dares try anything, they’ll have to get through me first.” You melted in his arms as the condolence washed over you.

“Why don’t we make ourselves comfortable on the sofa and watch any movie of your choice.”

“That sounds lovely,” you hummed.

“Yeah?” He cooed at you, stroking your cheek with his thumb. As you nodded and fluttered your eyes at him, he resisted the urge to take you right there and then.

“Can we watch 50 First Dates? It’s my favorite.” You held a sense of embarrassment in your request.

“Of course, darling.”

Making sure you were comfortable with enough blankets, he plopped down next to you, lazily slinging his arm over the top of the sofa. You took that as an invitation to scoot closer to him.

Mouthing each quote you mesmerized from your favorite scenes, you were so lost in the story that you didn’t even notice Caesar’s subtle smile as he admired you. 

“You’re a hopeless romantic, aren’t you?” A question hinting at the amount of affection he had for you.

“I just love love.”

His laugh was louder than usual. “That’s a very cute sentiment.”

Although the humor he saw in it stung a bit, you chose not to make a big deal out of it.

“By the way, what’s your answer to that question?”

That came out of the blue and caught you off guard. “What question?”

“The one that was spammed to you.” He side eyed you as you processed the situation. As that moment lingered between the two of you growing strained from the impatience he held, that dreadful hissing noise faded into the room.

The rise and fall of your chest indicated your rising stress. Your eyes darted around his face, realizing that you were sitting next to a stranger.  “How did you know which apartment is mine?”

“What kind of question is that? You gave me the address.”

“But I didn’t give you the apartment number.”

A long agitated sigh left him. “So I take it that you don’t feel safe here?”

Your instinct took over when he took his arm off you and leaned down to get the remote. Before your body had barely lifted off the cushion, he had you pinned to him. Your shrill shriek from his tight grip was followed by him shushing you.

“I don’t want to hurt you. Just don’t scream and you’ll be okay.” His arms were wrapped tightly around you. He stroked your hair and rested his cheek on the top of your head, tenderly kissing it periodically.

“You’ve always been my favorite, you know. The others… they just ended up not being who I thought they were.”

“What did you do to them?” Regret replaced curiosity as soon as you asked.

“You won’t have to find out, so long as you’re honest.” He could feel your rapid pulse as his fingers traced your neck. “You’ll be fine, darling.” He placed a firm kiss on your temple. “None of the others made it this far.” He murmured against the side of your face, “You’re so perfect.”

Tears had been building up in the corners of your eyes and were streaming down your cheeks. “What do you want?” Shaky and vulnerable: you were delectable.

“To be with you, you silly thing!” As he pulled you closer against him, you were too afraid to resist. “I’ve been following you for quite a while now, on both of your platforms. That sweet face beaming for the camera and that more tender side you showed on your blog, you had my heart from the get go.”

His hands roamed over your legs, favoring the fat on your inner thighs. When you trembled and your breath hitched, he trailed kisses along the back of your neck. “I know how lonely you are, my dear, because I know that pain all too well. You spend every moment online, barely going outside. It’s not healthy, especially for someone who’s so in love with love.”

He took your silence as a sign to continue pushing you. “Let me love you,” he groaned as his hands traveled further up your thighs, feeling the heat between them. “Don’t disappoint me now, not after making it this far.”

The ominous tone blanketed you. “I won’t.”

Tasting your tears as he pressed his lips against your cheek, his voice was thick with need. “Good girl.” His fingers found their way to your clit with ease, having you squirming in his arms. “Such a good little thing, aren’t you?” He nipped at your earlobe and licked the shell of your ear.

Shockwaves coursed through your core, earning him a few gasps and regrettable moans from you. Your nails dug into his thighs as he grinded against you. Running his fingers over the wet patch shamelessly pooling in your cotton panties, his eyes rolled back at his realization.

“It’s been a while since someone touched you, hasn’t it?”

He smiled against your neck as you squeaked out a yes. Sinking his teeth into your shoulder, he was quick to lather the sore spot with his tongue to soothe the pain.

As he tugged your panties aside and relished in the silky warmth he’d been dreaming of, he nipped at your neck, sucking at the markings that were sure to leave bruises.

While you writhed against him, he matched your motions with his hips. Pressing himself against you, allowing you to feel just how desperate he was for you was causing him to pant from his insatiable lust.

“I need you. I need you right now.” He growled in a nearly threatening manner.

The faintest compliance you showed had him sweeping you up in his arms and carrying you off to your bedroom. He put you down in front of your gaming chair and ordered you climb on.

You began to derobe, but he pushed your hands away. “Just get on the chair.”

Sounds of him fumbling with your equipment got your attention. “W-wait, no, what are you doing?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to stream us. Just going to record. Besides, you seem like you really enjoy putting on a show for the camera.” The cocky grin he wore exuded the assurance he held in his depiction of you.

Your skirt wasn’t leaving anything to the imagination in this position. Gripping your hips, he groaned seeing how much your pussy was eating your underwear—completely soaking them.

Blind siding yourself to what was happening behind you, all you heard was the swift stripping of his belt and pants.

Teasing your entrance, the longing for this moment was beading at his tip, “Are you ready for me?”

“Y-yes,” your nerves made your confidence in coming out of this in one piece falter.

He started off slow, savoring how you felt around him. The more he pushed into you, however, the more it felt like he was forcing himself.

“T-too deep. You’re too deep!”

“Shhh, just relax, my pet.” As your walls spasmed around him, he began steadily pumping in and out of you. “That’s right. Just like that.”

Each of your moans fueled the fantasy he had of you, encouraging him to push you past your limits. He tangled his fingers in your hair as he leaned down—his breath hot against your ear. “You’re just how I imagined.”

With that he tugged your hair, forcing you to arch your back. Granting himself more dominance over you, he pushed further by wrapping his other hand around your throat and squeezing lightly.

He angled your face towards the webcam. “Look at how gorgeous you are when I fuck you.” Watching the screen with you, he couldn’t have missed the way your eyes rolled back. Witnessing the sheer euphoria wrecking your body, his own climax was just within reach.

Your strangled cries and gasps, the way your body trembled and quaked, feeling your tears fall onto his hand: he couldn’t hold back much longer. 

His voice was husky and thick with his fast approaching peak of ecstasy, “Scream my name. I want to cum to your voice raw from screaming my name.”

You cried out for him, pleading for him to cum. Your screams resembled choked sobs as you felt him tensing up.

With a final thrust, he streamed a rope of hot cum into you, coating your walls entirely with his obsession for you. Letting you out of his grip, you collapsed on the chair. While he leaned back on your desk, he basked in the sight of you dripping with his seed.

He ran his hand over your hip, making you quake and whimper. “Still so sensitive,” he grinned at the display of power he had over you.

“Don’t worry, my pet, I’m far from done showing you how much I love you.”

[answers-of-the-heart]

@ask-caesarclown-shurororo

[jadeinretrogrde]

is this too niche? pls tell me i'm not alone

[fmlopla]

Punk Hazard Arc!

I have many more episodes to go but I just couldn’t help myself

[gasolineclown]

Caesar got laid and had two kids

(Revamp)

[stillxnunpxidintern]

All of the Caesar Clown that I have on Treasure Cruise

[foxnikki]

Ok, but what's your favourite One Piece laugh?

Mine is this for now ->

[vincentpchriswolf]

wahoo

Yeahh!!!! MERRY love this dude

Also him , what it says there

Same horn type

[fanaticsnail]

Aphrodisiac: Caesar Clown

Birthday Celebration Masterlist

Word Count: 2,600+

Themes: Caesar x f!reader, gendered terms used, aphrodisiac (reader), dub con, crying, whimpering, kissing, breeding mentioned, creampies, oral, multiple orgasms, angst, fluff, unrequited requited love, mdni, smut, 18+, nsfw.

Notes: It is @imveryyellow's birthday! Happy birthday, you absolute darling. I am so happy to share this fic made for you. I hope you like it! Art source from One Piece.

The crude squelching of hips snapping against hips echoed throughout the laboratory at the base of the Charlotte's keep. Pace set in an impossible rhythm, all fast and jagged, Caesar Clown exhaled in shaken pants and huffs of breath with every in-thrust.

“C-Caesar-!” you whined, cupping his hand gripping your thighs to hold him close while he stapled you to his desk, “Please, fuck me harder! I can't take much more of this!”

Caesar couldn't agree more, his stamina slowly depleting the longer he held you against himself. It was agony for him, each muscle contracting while his knees creaked and begged him to stop.

With the backs of your thighs against his stomach, holding both knees against his much larger chest, he continued driving in his extremely larger cock into your tiny cunt while sobbing out your name. With each buck forward, your breasts rippled and bounced for him.

Paper flying over the desk, several bottles of unmarked, cloudy liquids scattered on the floor, Caesar felt his edge approach once more. Your walls gripped and contracted around him, fluttering innocently like the wings of a butterfly while you began milking him of his release.

“Breed me, Caesar! Give me your cum. N-Need it!” you whimpered, tears beginning to pool on your waterline and sting at your creases. “Please fill me up. Please, please, please.”

“O-Oh, sh-sh-shit-!” Caesar cried in defeat, immediately flooding you with thick ropes of white, viscous splashback pooling at your entrance and painting his stomach with his release. Your vision split with a crack of lightning, abdomen contracting and squirting on his crotch as his tip flicked a switch deep within your body.

Both riding through your highs, he curled his body against yours and tested the flexibility in your legs and back. Holding his cock within your pussy, Caesar looked down at you with eyes holding the greatest sympathy.

He didn't mean for this to happen. Neither of you did. Lying beneath him, nipples pebbled, skin erupting in a sheen of beaded sweat, and goose-flesh puckering at every follicle on your body, your brows furrowed and eyes clenched while you caught your breath.

“How are you feeling, miss?” Caesar asked you softly, laying your legs either side of his hips and gently caressing your cheek.

“I-I-... I-... I need more,” you whimpered up at him, leaning into his touch and already feeling another wave of need rise in your gut and hold onto his cock. Caesar clicks his tongue empathetically before groaning at the way your pussy began squeezing him.

“I know, I know, I'm sorry. I wish it was anyone else-... That I was anyone else,” he admitted softly, attempting to stuff you with his rapidly reducing cock to no avail. “I promise, not much longer. I'm doing my absolute best for you.”

You sobbed when he retracted his cock from your needy core, but your cries morphed immediately to moans when he knelt between your legs and began kissing apologetically against your overly sensitive cunt. Kisses moved to swipes of his tongue flicking against your clit before moving down and drawing his former release out and consuming it alongside your arousal.

Each movement he made was an apology against your body. Each time he bobbed and swiped his head against your core, his honey coloured eyes flicked up to watch over your features. He read your body like a book, a scientist using your wriggles and bucks as a guide for testing his hypothesis regarding your pleasure.

Encouraging your hands down to grip his horns, he allowed you to guide him to move exactly as you needed him to. Feeling you once again close to your release, he chased your ecstasy while you reined him in.

“G-Gonna cum again-!” you warned him, shouting as your thighs shook over his ears, “Hghnmmm- Caesar!” Caesar gripped the desk beneath your ass, his knuckles swelling with white from the firm grasp while you abused his head by bucking into his face. He couldn't help the way his cock began to swell at the moment you coated his face with your transparent cum.

Slowly mouthing at your sensitive clit before drawing down to your slit, he romanced you with skilled ministrations against your quivering pussy. You released his horns from your grip and slumped back onto the wooden desk. Paper stuck to your back as you moved to look at the man kneeling beneath you.

Finally pulling his lips away from your pussy, he peered up at you through humble and innocent lashes.

“Any better?” he queries, his lips glistening with your slick coating it in a heavy sheen. “Worn off yet, or do you need more?” He rose back up before falling back onto his swiveling office chair.

You took a moment to drink him in, noting how worn and haggard his expression was. Eyes half-lidded and lips pouting, Caesar was exhausted, but his cock bobbed up invitingly against his abdomen.

“More.”

Working as the administrator for the Charlotte family, it was your job to personally oversee the progress Caesar Clown was making on the remedy for Big Mom's predicament. The impossibility she had found herself facing was the fact that, while she could continue making more and more children, her sons needed incubators for their seed to sprout into new life. They were impossibly large, and no spouse she found for them were fearless enough to take them.

She tried everything to bribe their partners into getting in the mood for them. Money, sweets, alcohol, time away from her island, returning home to their families as a bargaining chip for whether they become pregnant - but nothing worked. All out of resources, she procured the infamous scientist, Caesar Clown, to produce either a sufficient option for external insemination, or the easier option: an aphrodisiac.

Caesar went with the latter option.

Extracting spores from mushrooms, pollen from flowers, and remedies from herbs growing throughout the island: he bound them together in a centrifuge before fermenting them in demijohns beside his desk.

As you made your way towards his office, you were in your own head about everything balancing among your duties. Seek out Caesar, organize a delivery for sweets, find the kitchen staff and stock take inventory, likely return to Caesar once more to check up again, visit with Oven and Katakuri to get progress on their away missions, organize tea with Brulee and Pudding, hire a new groundskeeper to replace the one Big Mom was unsatisfied with, visit Caesar again to triple check his development: all to be done in a well timed manner and coinciding with tea and biscuits in the main hall with Big Mom to fill her in.

Big Mom has been working you to the brink of insanity, and you have been neglecting your most basic needs. Although eating and drinking, you barely got any sleep and you had no time to seek out any romantic interests of your own. You were no longer your own person. You lived and breathed to serve the Charlotte's, and you wore that title remarkably well.

The only person outside of the Charlotte's you got to see regularly was the clown working away at his desk. You saw no point in procuring him initially on a permanent payroll for the Charlotte's, but the fact he was attractive, and he was very easy for you to look at and talk to, meant a lot to you while you interacted with one another daily.

Everything was always: ‘yes, miss,’ ‘no, miss’, ‘not yet, miss’, and ‘as you wish, miss’ with him. He would look up at you, regardless as to how much smaller you were than the giant, and hold you on a pedestal as his only interaction with the outside world of late. You could tell he liked you, and you truly had no intention of ever taking it further than that…

…Until you knocked over one of the demijohns and spilled the unmarked liquid all over yourself.

The reaction was immediate: Caesar hastily sprinting to his feet and finding clothes and towels to dab it from your flesh while cursing, not at the loss of liquid, but how you were immediately exposed to it. He babbled out about how he was yet to find a remedy for the brew, and how there was only one way to dispose of the substance from your body.

You were barely alert to his words. As soon as the scent fled to your nose and fogged your vision in lustful clouds, your panties immediately splashed with the haste of your arousal. Without even being touched by an external source, simply the wind Caesar produced against your body while hastily drying your skin and cleaning you up was enough to have you climax immediately.

The mewls and cries you expelled, your pussy spasming in euphoria without ever being touched, was enough to inform Caesar that his product was well in motion and coursing through your veins.

“Miss, are you alright?” he asked softly, disposing of the rags immediately. His hands clasped around your ankles to check in on you, but your mind was in such a daze that you couldn't do anything other than suck in a shaken breath. Your knees buckled and you dropped a stack of paperwork you were carrying on the floor beneath you.

“C-Caesar,” you whined for him, attempting to clench your legs shut to provide your pussy with stimulation. “What the fuck did I just knock over? C-... Fuck-... Caesar, I n-need-... I need-...”

Immediately, you leaned down and captured his lips with your own, morphing them needily against his while reaching towards your clothes and peeling them from yourself. Caesar muffled a cry against your lips, scampering backwards and attempting to pull himself away to save you from using him to defile yourself with.

In lieu of calling you the little title he'd bestowed onto you, he whispered your name against your lips to gain your attention. Using his chin to pry himself away from your lips, he tried to have you see reason. He knew there was truly no use, the potent aphrodisiac now taking to your bloodstream through your respiratory system, and in search of one thing only he could truly give you.

You needed to be filled with his cum, and you needed to ride it out for as long as your pulse beat with the aphrodisiac flooding your system.

Caution to the wind, Caesar attempted to be as careful as he could with you in aiding you to a comfortable position, but he halted as soon as your hands began touching his cock. He was nowhere near as aroused as you were in your heightened state, but your enthusiasm for him caused his cock to immediately spring up in attention.

Caesar’s empathy was unmatched in this situation. He knew what Big Mom wanted, and this batch was extremely potent. Although he found you attractive and adored spending time with you, he knew that you would never want him the way he wanted you without this.

As he removed your arousal-soaked panties, and peeled off his garb, slowly placing your back against the desk, the only phrase he repeated was two words to depict his honesty intentions.

“I'm sorry.”

Using the reserves of your strength, you moved to stand on jellied legs. Hastily closing the distance between you both, you straddled his lap and sunk down your dripping pussy onto his cock and sighed in relief at the merger. Caesar groaned out and gently began rocking you up over his shaft by clapping a hand on either side of your ass.

He was so much larger than you, even from this position, your faces could barely touch. Opting instead to nuzzle into his chest, you both lazily rolled in time with one another while you felt the need once again bloom in your abdomen and spur you on.

“I'm sorry,” he again whispered, moving one of his hands to cradle the back of your neck into his chest, “I'm sorry this happened, and I'm sorry it's me helping you through it.” Caesar's tears began to fall, soft sobs spilling from his lips which ticked up at the edges while rolling his hips in time with your own. “I'm sorry for everything. You deserve more than this.”

You couldn't help but giggle at his admission, not so much laughing at his devastation, but reactionary to the situation currently unfolding between you. You, an administrator to Big Mom, being impaled on the cock of the man she hired to create an aphrodisiac so potent it would make any partner willing to be used as a depository for her children’s cum.

And he was the best lay of your life.

You were uncertain whether it was the aphrodisiac, or whether he truly was as skilled to make you see stars every time his mushroomed tip kissed your cervix. Planting your hands on his shoulders, you felt the aphrodisiac begin to wear off at the sides of your mind. Despite the need no longer incurring, you felt yourself truly wanting to continue riding him.

“What's-... What's so funny?” Caesar sniffled out, causing you to look up at him while you continued bobbing on his lap. You darted your eyes between both of his, and smiled broadly.

“You're… You're not half-bad at this, is all,” you giggled, “Regardless as to how brief the interactions are between us, I do enjoy your company, Caesar Clown. I'm glad it's you.” You drew your arms down to clutch at his waist, driving yourself harder on his lap and riding him with a hastened pace.

“Oh, fuck,” he whimpered, moving his hands to both girdle your waist within his thumbs and forefingers, “I love talking to you, too. You're the highlight of my day each time I see you down here.” He matched your rhythm, feeling his balls begin to twitch and quiver in his gut.

“You are mine too,” you admit, feeling your need begin to split at your vision, knowing this was truly an eruption fostered by your own needs, without the influence of the aphrodisiac. “I actually find you quite delightful. Y-You're also really fucking good at this. Fuck, a little slower please? Can you please fuck me harder too?”

“Yes, oh fuck, yes,” he gasped, using his much larger frame to slowly slot you down in timed rhythm on his lap. “I-... You-... Fuck, I've thought about this since I got here. D-Didn’t want it to be like this.”

As you felt your vision begin to tip over the edge, you moved your hands from his lap and hooked them around his neck. Drawing him closer to you, you pressed a needy and passionate kiss against him. All tongue, lips and teeth, you christened his cock in a crown of lust while you tasted yourself on his tongue.

He moaned in your mouth, feeling his abdomen tense up and his cock immediately shot up a lighter expulsion than the one he had moments prior. You came with a soft whimper against his lips, both of you slowing your movements while you were engulfed by his frame.

Breaking away from his kiss and gazing down at him, you smiled with a soft promise uttered from your lips.

“That's okay, Caesar. There's always next time.”

After cleaning one another up and sealing the soft pact with a kiss, you made it through your duties in a timely manner. With a small spring in your step, you had a progress report regarding Caesar’s success for Big Mom’s consideration prepared with an anecdotal, first-hand experience of how the concoction truly worked.

Finally seeing a future for the generations of Charlotte's, she was in such a delightful mood, she dismissed you and Caesar both from the remainder of your duties for a longer weekend. Using this time to navigate your budding feelings for one another, you truly enjoyed getting to know him better as a man rather than a coworker. You became quickly infatuated with him, and he was obsessed with you and the way he could make you smile.

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory @jadeddangel

🎶Happy Birthday to Me🎶

If you would like to celebrate by indulging my caffeine and bubble tea addiction, my Kofi link is here.

[lord-of-leeches]

Pathetic freak /pos

[diy-dentistry]

Caesar Clown

[merbear25]

Been thinking a lot about Caesar...

Been thinking about how difficult it'd be to set your suspicions aside. Despite his calming and inviting demeanor, his actions deteriorate those around him—decay and peril extending out of his finger tips.

A talented mind being applied to such chaos and suffering: when paired with a wide grin, doubt in his sincerity blanketed over you. Fearing what could happen if you were caught off guard, planning precautions ensued. However, he'd be keeping an eye on you, even when you thought you were alone.

You were refraining from getting too close to him; you'd witnessed too many fall victim to having the life sucked out of them or being overly trusting, leading them to nightmarish experiments. Naivete was acting as an opiate—omitting any sense to resist, making them malleable.

Keeping track of what exactly set him off, you'd jot each one in your notebook. In doing this, you were picking up on certain habits of his, which were ones that might be seen as endearing if it were anyone else: babbling to himself if he made a careless miscalculation, how animated he'd get around certain people, and the way he threw his hair up in a huff while working.

Danger comes in all shapes and sizes, though. Unbeknownst to you, he was just as cautious of you as you were of him. Having his fair share of trust issues, he'd been keeping tabs on you since you waltzed into his life. He kept an eye on everyone, but you and your most recent behavior set off alarms.

Lurking behind each corner, staying just out of sight, so as not draw your attention to him, he observed you. Distrust made his chest heave, while watching you scribble something in your notebook. Forboding casted itself, consuming any ability for reconsideration.

Hissing from what sounded like a busted pipe caused fear to wrap around your heart, making you break out in a cold sweat. Shortly after the first signal of his presence was released, the gas clouds trailed up and over your body and dispersed around you.

Too nervous to turn around to face him, you calmly closed your notebook and waited.

"What have you been up to?"

There was no malice in his words, yet you knew better than to take him at face value. "I was just finishing up the notes from earlier. You know, before I forgot."

Locks of his hair drapped over you as he leaned in. He whispered, "How long did you think you'd be able to hide this from me?"

Attempting to suppress your rising heart rate, you assured him you'd been keeping to your work as normal.

He placed a hand down firmly on the table next to your notebook. Going wide-eyed at his sudden falter in patience, you peared down at what contained all that you'd written down on him.

"In that case, you won't mind if I take a look, will you?" His other hand snaked around from the other side.

When he threw the cover open, you shut your eyes, not being able to bear witnessing death closing in on you. After a few moments passed, you were shaking from anticipation of the punishment he'd surely cast down on you—but nothing was happening. Cautiously, you opened one eye to see which page he'd opened to: those of his personal habits, along with the little hearts doodled next to some of them were glaring back at you.

Not knowing whether you would've preferred to be slain for plotting against him or from your own humiliation, you sat where you were—staring at the pages that'd betrayed you.

Breaking the silence, he let out a chuckle, "Had no idea you were the type to get 'love sick'."

NSFW below the cut!!! fem!reader, teasing, fingering, vaginal penetration

Shell shock still effecting you, you weren't able to muster an excuse.

"Don't worry, dear. Your little secret is safe with me," he laughed a bit harder this time, the irony was too sweet not to torment you with. Calming down from that outburst, he leaned in again and brought his hands nearer to you. "That is, on one condition."

With surprise replacing your fear, you'd unfortunately allowed yourself to fall pray to his trickery just as the others had. "What is it?"

Tilting his head up to ponder, he laid his hands on your shoulders saying, "Hm, I may have a suitable solution." Offering his hand, he lured you in with a simple command, "Follow me."

Finding yourself in his bedroom made you halt in your tracks. "Did we...take a wrong turn?" Denial passed over your lips of what was about to unfold.

"Surely you can't be as naive as the others." Grinning down at you, he ran his hand over your dress, cupping your breast just before you pulled away in disbelief.

"Don't tell me you were scribbling hearts in your journal next to my name as a bluff."

While backing away, you stumbled and tripped onto the floor. Having fallen on your tailbone, you winced from the sudden pain.

Cocking his head at you, he sighed, "You may, however, be more hopeless than the others." In one swoop, he tossed you on the bed. Not having enough time to process what was happening, he took advantage of your vertigo—climbing on top of you, releasing spores of arousal with each shift he made.

Having picked up on your nerves, he started out slowly: rubbing your legs, running his hands up your dress, and circling his thumbs at the top of your pubic bone. He was observing your expressions and body language, all of which were hinting that you were getting rather excited.

Laying down next to you, he had you wrapped in his arms. Opening your legs, he ran his hand over your panties, which were already set to be rung out. Witnessing the affects he had on you, he pressed his hardening member against your leg while twirling his fingers around your clit.

This was proving to be too much for you; you were feeling overwhelmed from the rushes of lust and uncertainty towards him. "I don't know if I can do this," you breathed heavily, trying to avert your eyes, which had already begun to blur from the much awaited release you'd secretly been after.

He nuzzled against the top of your head, caressing your weeping slit. "Your body is calling out for me though. Why should it be denied what it's obviously craving?"

You bit at your bottom lip as you felt him grind up against your thigh again; your chest was falling and rising from the build up which you were hanging on by a thread.

Sensing you were cracking, the drive to push you past your limits took over; he forced your delicates to the side, partcially exposing your needy pussy. Sliding his fingers inbetween your slick lips, he grinned at the sight of you: clinging to the sheets, already thrusting against him; you were still trying to resist, although your will-power was hurridly reaching its breaking point.

Watching you deperately chase after your repressed lust, he ripped the top of your dress down, revealing your breasts. Greedily grabbing and clenching them, care was especially given to your erect nipples. You whimpered as he pinched them, testing how easy it'd be to make you crumble from ecstasy.

Rutting against his stiffened length, your hand latched onto his hip to steady yourself. Paying no mind to how he'd been watching you, you failed to notice his dark fantasies coming forth.

Him abruptly tugging your panties off made you gasp―the material left behind red spots from the sudden force. Your shrieks only added to your delectable vulnerability.

After seeing him chuck them off to the side, you felt his bare cock proding you. Pressing against your thigh, the motions from him preparing himself jolted across your lower half.

He forced your legs further apart; a faint whimper came from him when he realized your lower half had been coated in your disgraceful abandonment of morals.

After taking a minute to admire the view, he promptly thrusted inside you. Knowing it'd cause some pain, the sadist in him still yearned to see you squirm. The initial twinge of discomfort wore off, now just fragments scattered amongst your spasming walls.

You both new you wouldn't be able to hold out for much longer. Settling on twirling your pearl against the pad of his finger, he allowed himself the pleasure of watching your breasts chaotically bounce and slap against each other.

Your self-control was failing you: slipping away with each thrust he rammed between your creamy lips. Your breath was shaking as your vision speckled. Feeling you unravel on him unexpectedly forced his own willpower to collapse―joining you in your rapturing frenzy.

As he eased out of you, you let the cum spill out; watching it drip down, you kept the tingles of bliss prickling at the sight of it a secret from him.

You looked over at him to catch a devilish look appear on his face. Forgetting what'd gotten you into this predicament, you casually asked what that look was for.

"Hm? Just thinking about the next secret you'll try to hide from me. You're constantly scribbling in that damn thing, so there should be plenty to blackmail you with."

Your cheeks reddened when thinking back to the incriminating ideas you had. When you shrank away from him, he alluded to his hunches, "This will surely make for a good compromise."

[onepiece-birthdays]

It's April 9th

Happy birthday to Pepper, formerly of the Usopp Pirates! He is 11. Happy birthday to Marguerite of Amazon Lily! She is 18. Happy birthday to Captain Yorki of the Rumbar Pirates! Happy birthday to Caesar Clown of MADS! He is 55. Happy birthday to Momoo! He is 16.