#Concert Prelude

[opera-ghosts]

OTD in Music History: Obscure but historically important Armenian-Soviet composer, conductor, and pedagogue Alexander Afanasyevich Spendiaryan (1871 - 1928) -- who often went by "Spendiarov" -- is born in what is now modern-day Ukraine. Spendiarov is a little-known figure today, except in Armenia, where he is still celebrated as the "Father of Armenian Symphonic Music." After obtaining a law degree in Moscow in 1894, Spendiarov traveled to St. Petersburg to show some musical compositions that he had composed in his spare time to legendary Russian composer Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov (1844 - 1908). Rimsky-Korsakov was highly complementary, and, from 1896 to 1900, Spendiarov stayed on and studied music privately with him; according to fellow composer Alexander Glazunov (1865 - 1936), Rimsky-Korsakov always “considered [Spendiarov] to be a serious and talented composer with a great flair for composition.” In the best works dating from his mature years, Spendiarov cultivated a type of late-Romantic Russian “orientalism” in which the elements of folk songs native to the peripheral regions of the Old Russian Empire were adroitly arranged and decked out in the colorful harmonies of the Russian "Nationalist" school of music spear-headed by Rimsky-Korsakov and his colleagues in "The Mighty Five." Spendiarov's relocation from Crimea to Yerevan, Armenia, in in the early 1920s had a significant impact on his creative activities. In Armenia, he focused more of his time on teaching (he was one of the first significant figures to support the young Aram Khachaturian), helped to organize the first symphony orchestra ever assembled in the country, and spent a significant amount of time studying and transcribing Armenian folk music. When Spendiarov died from pneumonia in 1928, he was widely mourned as a national cultural hero. PICTURED: A beautiful publicity photo showing the middle-aged Spendiarov, which he signed and inscribed to a friend in Yalta in 1913.

[franzjpeg]

The Last Dinner Party - Prelude to Ecstasy Tour (Live @ Gretchen, Berlin, 16 February 2024)

📸 Shot on Fujifilm X-T30 II / XC-16-50 MM © Franz Naumann. All rights reserved. Request for reposts.

[mindlessmusicindulgence]

They have AMAZING stage presence and this album was made to be played live

[hidekomoon]

tagged by @userparamore to post 5 songs I'm loving right now <33 thanks bestie

paramore - burning down the house indigo de souza - bad dream olivia rodrigo - bad idea right salle TV - myriamo hayley kiyoko - he'll never love you (HNLY)

and her second tag which is : posting 6 albums I’ve been listening to!

after laughter, paramore // grey area, little simz // prelude to ecstasy, the last dinner party drop 7, little simz // un an ou deux, salle TV // i love my mom, indigo de souza

tagging : @gayjomarch @elletao @mansionghosts @micamicster @vlindervin7 @itconsumesyou @hitmewithlghtning & anyone who's open to it ;)

[dark-raven-feathers]

I’m taking a hiatus from Tumblr and later on probably Discord as well, my schedule legit looks like this rn:

I’ll be back somewhere on the 27th but I kid you not I’m at marching band functions all day for almost the entirety of July and I’m on tour from July 18 to 27

also if you’re in Calgary on the 7th and plan to be there for the parade people who stand closest to the road will have a higher chance of getting a high five :)

[carcarrot]

3 WEEKS FROM TODAY

[rolflovesclassicalmusic]

Concert review, ★★★★½, Piano Recital Jaeden Izik-Dzurko @ Zurich University, Zurich, 2024-04-11 (Musik an ETHZ und UZH) — Liszt / Bach: Prelude and Fugue in A minor, BWV 543 / S.462/1; Liszt: Sonata in B minor, S.178; Rachmaninoff: Piano Sonata No.1 in D minor, op.28

[virgoactias]

anyone seeing tldp in vienna tomorrow 👀

[maraczeks]

+

[opera-ghosts]

OTD in Music History: Composer, pianist, and pedagogue Ignaz Moscheles (1794 - 1870) dies in Leipzig. Although Moscheles is far from a household name today -- even in many "classical" music circles -- he played a number of important roles in the course of 19th Century musical history, and he is certainly one of the most important "forgotten" 19th Century figures. Student of Muzio Clementi (1752 - 1832)... good friend (and sometimes competitor) to prominent virtuoso pianists Johann Baptist Cramer (1771 - 1858), Johann Nepomuk Hummel (1778 - 1837), and Friedrich Kalkbrenner (1785 - 1849)... trusted helper to Ludwig van Beethoven (1770 - 1827), who was so impressed with the young man's abilities that he actually entrusted him with the preparation of the piano-vocal version of his only opera, "Fidelio"... music teacher to Felix Mendelssohn (1809 - 1847) and Arthur Sullivan (1842 - 1900)... close colleague to Robert Schumann (1810 - 1856) and Franz Liszt (1811 - 1886)... Moscheles knew everyone, and everyone knew Moscheles... PICTURED: An original c. 1828 copy of sheet music for one of Moscheles's virtuoso piano solos -- in this case, a four-hand two-piano arrangement of a popular song, which he dedicated to Cramer. Moscheles has also signed this copy on the front cover. This was known as a "control mark," and it was actually a somewhat common device deployed by composers at the end of the 18th Century and in the early 19th Century (i.e., in the days before a functional international copyright system came into existence) in an effort to help ensure that printed copies in circulation were authentic, and not pirated. The first photo in this series is interesting in that it illustrates a very early metronomic tempo marking: "[eighth note symbol] = 66 Maelzel's Metronome." As this rather unusual terminology suggests, in 1828, the metronome itself was still a new and novel device; Johann Maelzel (1772 - 1838) had only patented the first modern metronome 12 years earlier, in 1816.

The last photo in this photo set also contains another interesting note -- an instruction reassuring the player that they should feel free to disregard any notes indicated in the score that are "found beyond the compass of [their] instrument.”

By 1828, the keyboard element of the grand piano as we know it today had *largely* come into being -- at least in very broad strokes. (Substantial further refinements were still to come, of course, especially regarding the construction of the soundboard and the action.) But just a generation earlier, the pianoforte was still very much an evolving instrument, and the harpischord was still quite popular; hence Moscheles’s keen awareness that many of the keyboard instruments sitting in middle-class parlors across Europe would be earlier models that didn't have all of the latest bells and whistles (or keys) as the cutting-edge models for which Moscheles was composing his music. This instruction is a direct nod to that practical reality.

[count-on-mi]

Masterlist

Mommy's little boy Series

Mommy's little boy Part 1 (Mina) Mommy's little boy Part 2 (Tzuyu) Mommy's little boy Part 3 (Jeongyeon) to be published... Mommy's little boy Part 4 (XXX) Mommy's little boy Part 5 (XXX) Mommy's little boy Part 6 (XXX)

MiSaMo's Anniversary Series

Mile High Club (Mina) Escort in Milan (Sana) Do it for my son (Momo) Duty of Care (MiSaMo)

Daddy's forbidden affairs

Prelude (XXX) Part 1 (Jihyo) Part 2 (XXX) Part 3 (XXX)

One Shots

I hate school... (Nayeon) to be published... Another normal day in dorm (Jeongyeon) to be published... After Concert (Nayeon, Momo, Sana, Mina) Let's Play Ball (Sana) Toy (Sana, Mina) Rumors Part 1 (Jihyo) Rumors Part 2 (Jihyo) Fun in the tour (Jihyo, Tzuyu) Crystal Snow (Mina) (Fluff) Fashion Show (Dahyun) In the name of God (Dahyun) Love of incest (Dahyun) to be published... XXX (Dahyun) to be published... My dear brother (Chaeyoung) Behind the Scene (Chaeyoung) Take off from your crotch, Landing on my face (Tzuyu) Management of Artist (Tzuyu) to be published...

[mindlessmusicindulgence]

I love it when artists have unique merch

[nina-ya]

A/N: I was at a concert and couldn't stop thinking about law as the bassist so I quite literally wrote these headcanons during the concert dfkjsjk so here have them I'm going to my cave and hiding now! Pairing: Bassist!Law x reader CW: NSFW MINORS DNI

Bassist!Law who always glances at you standing backstage, watching as he plays, knowing just what he has in store for you later. Eye contact lingering longer than necessary, a smirk on his lips as he imagines the things he’ll do to you once the show is over. He thrives on the way that your mere presence amps up his performance.

Bassist!Law who notices the way your eyes seem to flicker between his biceps and his hands constantly watching them move and flex as he plays, watching as the crowd erupts in cheers when he purposefully uses two of his fingers to grind circles into the neck of the bass guitar just to tease you further, bringing you closer and closer to pouncing right then and there. 

Bassist!Law who is the first to make it off stage as soon as the final note is played, making a beeline to you, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. His lips crash against yours, consuming your entire being with the pent-up emotions building up throughout the performance. 

Bassist!Law who enjoys the feeling of your ineffectual fists pushing his sweaty body away, whining about how wet he is. Your resistance only adds fuel to the burning desire, and the struggle between you is a prelude to the unabashed passion that will soon engulf the two of you. 

Bassist!Law who whisks you away, dragging you back to the tour bus before the rest of the bandmates can follow. Urgency manifested in his drive to claim you in the privacy of the dimly lit bus.

Bassist!Law who has you pinned against the bunk beds of the cramped tour bus, his body caging you in radiating with a ravenous hunger. His breath is a scorching whisper against your ear, weaving dirty promises, each a venomous caress that lays bare his intentions with a clarity that makes your knees quiver and your resolve melt like wax in a flame. 

Bassist!Law who grins at the marks he leaves on your skin, each bruise and bite a proclamation that you are his. 

Bassist!Law whose calloused fingers drag deep inside of you, each flick of his wrist leaving you gasping for breath. His touch is a paradox that emits tenderness and relentlessness, leaving you crying out in sheer wanton abandon. 

Bassist!Law who tears your clothes off, his hands mapping your body as if you were a prized possession. Each inch of you committed to memory, his fingers tracing a trail of fire along your curves and dips. 

Bassist!Law who maneuvers you into the narrow bunk bed, the limited space only heightening the intensity. He flips you over in the tight quarters, positioning you on your hands and knees, his hands gripping your hips with ferocity. 

Bassist!Law who teases you mercilessly, running the tip of his cock along your slick folds, each nudge of his bulbous tip pulling begs from your lips, the pleas bouncing off the walls of the tiny space. 

Bassist!Law who finally pushes into you, burying himself to the hilt. The sensation of him stretching you, the way he bucks into you, bullying your insides with each thrust, has you seeing stars, each and every nerve alight with pleasure, leaving your jaw agape whining panting, and whining with each kiss of your cervix. 

Bassist!Law who loses himself in the rhythm of your bodies, the tour bus seemingly swaying alongside your movements. His grunts meld with your cries of pleasure, the air thick with the intoxicating scent of sweat and sex, a melody much sweeter than the ones he plays on stage every night. 

Bassist!Law who is addicted to the way your hole clenches around him, your body responding to each rock of his hips, every angle change. He adjusts his pace and depth until your senses are flooded with nothing else but him, the only word you know how to say is his name, chanting it as if it were a prayer. 

Bassist!Law who drinks up the sight of you coming undone beneath him, the sight of your gasping, shuddering form driving him over his peak, burying himself deep inside of you, face in your neck, groaning your name as he pains your walls a creamy white. 

Bassist!Law who only waits a moment before pulling out of you, using your own shirt to clean you up as he tosses his own shirt at you right as his other bandmates laughter and chatter approach the bus. He loves the sight of you wearing the graphic tee he wore on stage only moments ago, the fabric hanging loosely on your frame. 

Bassist!Law whose bandmates walk in and immediately catch the sight of the aftermath- the touseled sheets, your embarrassed face accompanying the marks that litter your neck, you wearing Law’s shirt, now leaving his tattoos exposed to the elements. The knowing smirks, and stifled laughter from his friends only fuel his pride. He wraps an arm around you, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes as he revels in the evidence of your shared passion, completely and utterly unashamed. 

[guywrestlingaddiction]

What Turned me Gay: How to Introduce Someone to Gay Wrestling

It's no secret that wrestling turned me gay.  High school wrestling turned into a passion for pro wrestling, which evolved into an obsession with gay wrestling.  Now, while my journey is unique to me, I wondered, how do you turn someone on to gay wrestling? 

What turned me gay (not really) ... 

Troy & Brian Baker v Vinny Trevino & Joshua Goodman (bgeast.com)

This post, inspired by the sidelineland.com blog, takes a tongue and cheek look into "what made me gay (not really)" and in thinking about the topic of introducing someone to gay wrestling, it's helpful to go back to the beginning - at least my beginning.

My first exposure to gay wrestling was on bgeast.com and boy do I still have vivid memories of that experience. Those wrestler profiles, the exciting match descriptions, all of it worked to overly stimulate my young imagination.  Reading about those grunting and groaning men made me feel like I was there, in the ring with them and feeling every strained bicep or the pain of a perfectly timed ball claw.  One particular image forever sealed in my memory from that day was an aggressive Brigham Bell flex-straddling a helpless Dino Serra in a schoolboy pin.  Brigham's cocky look, that vain bicep flex all worked to supercharge my interest.

Brigham Bell v Dino Serra (bgeast.com)

Later, after months, maybe even years of research, when I was finally able to buy my first Bgeast DVD, I picked up Tag Team Torture 3 - specifically because of Mr.Troy Baker.  Now it wasn't intentional but what's key here is that I picked a gay wrestling match without the sex.  As it happened, Troy Baker simply didn't do nudity and after all my 'research' there was no stopping me from wanting to see him.  

Troy & Brian Baker v Vinny Trevino & Joshua Goodman (bgeast.com)A gay wrestling match without the gay sex

I mean can you blame me? 

All that to say that my first introduction to gay wrestling was less about guys doing it and more about the wrestling. Of course I visited other gay sites devoted purely to sex, but somehow keeping them separate - gay wrestling and gay porn helped. In fact, it intensified my gay wrestling passion since there was just nothing hotter than being taken to the edge of excitement, only to be denied it.  Gay wrestling wasn't just a cheesy prelude to the sex, it was an epic story of powerful emotions, humiliation, and masculinity.  Needless to say I was hooked. 

Flyboy v Jose (bgeast.com) Another gay wrestling classic without the sex.

I won't go as far to say that I didn't need the release that typical porn had to offer, but what I will say is that the images of hot guys straining their muscles or the guttural moans each fighter made was simply hotter than anything else I had seen before. Whether it was the intense cries of defeat or the shakiness in their voice when the adrenaline was flowing; all of that was heaven to me.

Mars v Bjorn (wrestler4hire.com)

But the thing that did it for me was the intense realness that gay wrestling brought.  The sweat that proved each man was a fighter, the trash talk boasting how they would dominate each other, and the humiliation showing there were real consequences to all this, all worked in concert to fuel what was rapidly becoming my obsession.  

Grant Phelps v Mark Molina (movimuswrestling) Movimus: The most wrestling focused studio. 

At stake in each wrestling match was a piece of a man's masculinity and pride, with the winner stripping the loser of everything they had. Gay wrestling to me was everything but the sex, everything but the climax, all of which made it a thousand times hotter.

So how do you welcome someone to all that gay wrestling has to offer? Following my path I'd recommend jumping into a classic high quality match minus the sex from a studio like Bgeast then alternating between a studio that offers more sex to one that offers more wrestling. 

After awhile you'll figure out where you land on this spectrum (wrestling and sex) and really begin to see where the stars align for you.  Now for me, if I had to guess what the perfect mix would be, it would be something like 75% wrestling and 25% sex, but to each their own.  

Ron Masters v Cody Brooks (can-am.com) Can-Am: The most sex focused studio. 

Jonathan Bennett v J Durango (bgenterprises) Bgenterprises: Sometimes all wrestling, sometimes all sex. 

Logan v Drake (nrwrestling.com) Nrwrestling: The most non-gay gay wrestling studio.

Luke Truong v Mack Mahoney (muscleboywrestling.com) Muscleboywrestling: More sex focused than wrestling. 

Cali Boy v Christian Thorn (wrestler4hire.com) Wrestler4hire: More wrestling than sex. 

Cody v Tanner Ripley (undergroundwrestler.com) Undergroundwrestler: Gay wrestling with everything but the nudity. 

Kid Leopard v Sean Cannon (bgeast.com) Bgeast: This studio has everything on the wrestling-sex continuum. 

When I first started watching gay wrestling there were really just a few options but now there are countless variations to entertain yourself with. Some of you may prefer more sex, others more wrestling, but whatever the type of gay wrestling you ultimately become interested in, it really is up to you. You see this story, this journey of how I came to obsess over gay wrestling is unique to me as it is to every other person's passion and without a doubt something that turned me gay (not really).

[discordantwritings]

Rock Hard (Rock Band! Cross Guild x Reader)

Part 4. The Drummer

Prelude // The Vocalist // The Guitarist // The Drummer

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, gn afab! Reader, Crocodile is an asshole (I mean it), Crocodile calls you a whore in a derogatory sense but you straighten him out about that, possessive Crocodile, light choking, desk sex, PiV sex, creampie

WC: 2.5k

Summary: Of course Crocodile finds out about you and Buggy. And you and Mihawk. Because that’s just the way your life is going. He seems to be taking the news extremely poorly.

Notes: y’all wanted mean Crocodile, you get mean Crocodile

Tagging: @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @keiva1000

You contemplate never going to work again. Preferably faking your own death, creating a new identity, and starting over in some small European country where they don’t have internet and you can just be a sheep farmer. That seems like the more reasonable solution- as opposed to getting out of bed and facing Mihawk or Buggy. You could call in sick but for some reason that’s worse than any of the previous options so you begrudgingly peel yourself out of bed to get ready for work.

Your only saving grace is that you’re working with Crocodile today and ironing out sponsors for their first concert- a task that shouldn’t involve either of the men you’re desperate to avoid. If you keep your head down you should be able to artfully dodge them.

And by artfully dodge you mean using the stairs and fast walking though hallways as you don’t bother to stop at your own desk- opting to start your day in Crocodile’s office. You hover at the door to his office, listening to make sure there’s no one else in there (like other pesky band members) before knocking. He tells you to come in and you do, relieved to see he’s alone.

“Did you get the papers I left on your desk?” Is his first question and it has you cursing under your breath.

“Sorry- I must have missed it-“ You know your lie is caught the second he looks at you with one eyebrow raised.

“I came straight here, I was running late.” Another lie, but a better one that Crocodile seems to accept.

“I’ll have Daz grab them off your desk in a bit, there’s something I need to talk to you about first.” He motions for you to sit at one of the chairs across from his desk.

You hesitate, walking closer but stay standing behind the chair. “Something wrong with the venue?”

“No, everything with that is going fine. It’s something more personal.”

Shit.

“Last night I had to stop a fist fight from breaking out between Buggy and Mihawk.”

Fuck.

“Would you happen to know anything about why that might have happened?”

You can tell by his tone of voice his question is rhetorical, and you wish you had followed through with your plan on faking your death. Taking a deep breath, you dig deep to find some sort of reasonable response.

“I’m sorry. Some of my actions have been incredibly unprofessional.” You keep your eyes glued on the chair in front of you but you can still feel Crocodile’s glare burning into you.

“Unprofessional? Look if I had know you’d be such a whore-“

That last word has you seeing red and your gaze snaps up to meet his. “Excuse me? I understand that I fucked up but that gives you no right to call me that. If you’re going to call anyone a whore look at your bandmates and take your pick. Buggy begged for weeks and Mihawk couldn’t stand the concept of Buggy having something up on him that he dragged me into a closet. Get your fucking facts straight before you decide to start throwing names around.”

Standing up to him throws Crocodile for a second, and you watch his glare falter into surprise for a second before coming back as he stands up and rounds his desk. “Oh, I’m sorry, is weak willed more appropriate? Degenerate? Pathetic?”

He’s standing over you now, large frame crowding yours in an attempt to make shrink back. You don’t.

“Does saying that make you feel better? Or do you just get off on talking like that to your subordinates?” Anger and adrenaline fueled your words, not backing down even when his body moved to cage you against his desk.

“What makes you think you can talk to me like that?” His prosthetic, an expensive robotic hand, slams into the desk by your side but you don’t flinch.

“You’re already going to fire me. I might as well keep what’s left of my pride.” You answer honestly, not breaking eye contact.

Crocodile laughs- honest to god laughs at that. “Well, I guess I can appreciate that.”

Silence hangs in the air as his body continues to press the backs of your thighs into his desk. You’re not sure what to say, only that you’re not going to try and slink away and lose this fight.

“I had to stop Mihawk from denting Buggy’s painted face in. Buggy was getting awfully descriptive to get under his skin.” Crocodile muses and you grimace.

“I’m going to kill both of them.”

Crocodile doesn’t respond but as the silence stretches on you notice the way he’s carefully looking over you, gaze dragging down your face and neck. His hips are square with yours but hovering just out of indecent range and then it all clicks.

“You fucking hypocrite.”

“Excuse me?” Crocodile tone lowers, clearly pissed.

“You’re just like them! Probably mostly like Mihawk if I had to guess.” You stand up straight, chest pressing into his. “You’re mad that Buggy had something up on you. You insecure, petty-“

You’re cut off as his hand shoots up and grabs your jaw, forcing your face to keep staring up at him but giving him more control. You flinched back at the move but try not to let it scare you- the second he actually hurts you your knee is perfectly set up to hit his groin.

“You can dish it out but you can’t handle it?” You fire back, voice slightly muffled by the way his fingers dig into your cheeks.

“I would never get jealous over anything involving that clown. And I can take a lot more than a few rather tame insults.” His grip tightens. “What I don’t appreciate are brats.”

“The way you’re looking at me suggests otherwise.”

Your knee, which was previously itching to debilitate him, creeps up slowly and you can feel his hard length straining against his pants. He makes a noise almost like a growl when you press down and you grin wide. The grip on your jaw turns slack as he grinds his length against your knee before settling even closer to you, pressure held against his cock.

“Just admit it Crocodile.” You whisper, tilting your head so it’s laying gently in his hand. “Admit that you’re jealous.”

“Fuck you.” Despite his words his thumb caresses your jaw and his hips slowly grind into your knee again.

“I’ll leave. You need this more than I do. Say it.” You press you knee in further, getting close to hurting him with the amount of pressure you’re exerting.

“I’m not jealous.” He restates, but there’s less bite to the statement.

“Fine.” You straighten your leg back out and his reaction is immediate.

“Fuck- wait a damn-“ His grip on your face tightens once again and you feel his other hand grab onto your hip.

Despite him holding your face he doesn’t look at you, eyes focused downwards as he works through the thoughts in his head. He moves your jaw, tilting it slightly to the side as he leans down to bring his face to the column of your neck. His breath is hot as it fans over your skin and his nose slightly nudges you.

“I’m not jealous.” You’re about to wrench out of his grip but when he continues you still. “I’m competitive. I’m possessive. Just like Mihawk I thought about you under that fucking clown- and then with him-“

“You probably didn’t even like me until Buggy-“ You begin to snarl but Crocodile cuts your off by finally moving to look in your eyes.

“I’m not a toddler and you’re not a fucking toy. You’ve had my gaze for some time why do you- I remembered you from Marines. I spotted you then and I remembered you and that’s why you’re here. You stood out to me and I chose you to be my manager. I chose you.” There’s a sincerity to his words that catches you off guard- a sharp contrast to the argumentative push and pull.

Your eyes scan his face for any trace of deceit but you can’t find it and you find yourself floundering as the game suddenly changed. You find yourself melting into his strong grip almost against your will.

“Don’t lie to me.” You whisper, now afraid of the emotional weight added.

“I’m not. I haven’t. I won’t.” He promises.

And you believe him.

“Tell me you want me.”

“I want you.”

You surge forward to close the small gap between you two, mouths roughly meeting. His hand slips down to your neck as your tongues and teeth clash in the messy, heated kiss. His teeth tug at your bottom lip as the hand around your neck grips loosely, just enough to feel that he has control over you.

With one of your free hands you reach down and slide a hand roughly underneath the waistband of his pants to palm at his erection. He groans into your mouth as he moves his hips to grind into your hand. Before you can reach your fingers around him your hand is yanked out and Crocodile is stepping away.

“Pants off. Now.” He barks and while your hands automatically go to the fastenings on your pants you pause once you think about it.

“If you want them off so bad-“ You don’t get the rest of that bratty thought out of your head before Crocodile is manhandling you.

He turns you around and pushes between your shoulder blades until your chest hits his desk. Before you can even complain your pants and underwear are yanked down to your ankles and his foot kicks yours so your legs are spread wide.

“Smart fucking mouth- gonna make you shut up-“ You hear the click of his belt and the unzipping of his pants and that keeps you glued to the desk.

“Look at this. So fucking wet. You love getting pushed around?” You feel his tip drag along your entrance and you moan, but that’s not good enough. “Use your words.”

“Yes-“ You whine and are rewarded when his tip presses into you.

“That’s right- that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You try to think of some clever retort but lose every single thought in your head when he pushes himself all the way into your in one sharp motion. Both of you moan loud as he bottoms out inside of you. There’s a sharp pain that makes you feel like you might be ripped in half but as he grinds himself in and grips your hips it quickly fades into pleasure.

“That’s it- just needed to be stuffed full with my cock- fuck-“ The grip on your hips is bruising as he starts to move, thick length dragging out and then snapping back in.

The sharp thrusts force your thighs to dig into the hard corner of the desk but the pain adds wonderfully to the flood of sensations. Crocodile sneaks one of his hands around your neck and pulls you back just enough so he can bite into your neck, another pain that makes your head dizzy with pleasure. You know exactly what he’s doing- marking you so the other two will know exactly what happened. The thought is electric as you imagine what Buggy and Mihawk’s reaction will be.

“You’re so fucking tight around me- can’t wait to feel you cum all over my cock-“ The hand around your neck grips tighter, not cutting off your air in any way but keeping you firmly locked against him.

His other hand reaches down and presses into your clit causing you to moan and clench around him. You know you’re close but you can’t tell him, all you can do is moan and whine as he pounds into you.

“Tell me- either of them cum inside you? Did they claim you like that?” He asks and you shake your head no- the correct answer. “Fuck- that’s right- gonna fill you up- make you mine-“

You cum hard around him, vision whiting out as he keeps relentlessly thrusting into you.

“I’m- fuck-“ He swears loud as he stops buried all the way inside you, his cum shooting out deep into you.

He holds himself in there, grip around your neck still keeping you up. Both of you pant and you can feel both of your cum sliding out of you and onto the desk below, but you can’t bring yourself to care about the mess. Crocodile kisses your neck right where he bit into it before letting you go and you let yourself lay on his desk while he slides himself out of you. You hear him shuffling around and after a few moments you feel him lightly wiping you off with some tissues.

“Thanks.” Is all you can manage, looking over your shoulder to give him a tired smile.

“You can lay down on the couch.” He offers, head tilting towards the ridiculously expensive couch off towards the side of his office.

“Not kicking me out?” You ask, half joking, half not as you take up his offer and wobble over to lay down.

“Of course not.” He straightens up some of the papers and pens you both scattered everywhere. “I don’t- I would hope this could be more than a one time thing.”

“You were serious.”

“Of course I was.” He stops what he was doing to walk over to you, bending down as he holds your face.

You’re confused, you’re tired, you’re overworked, and you just got fucked within an inch of your life. You were not ready for something that seems so serious. Crocodile seems to pick up on that and can’t hide a twinge of disappointment coming over his face.

“I don’t- I’ve had a long few weeks and I’m not saying no. But-“ You sigh and nuzzle into his hand. “Is this really a good time?”

He sighs, you’re right. “We really need to be focused on this first concert.”

You nod, pressing a kiss to his palm. “You will do the concert and then after we can seriously work this all out.”

“I knew I hired a good manager.” He gives you an uncharacteristically soft smile before straightening back up again. “Rest all you need today but tomorrow it’s all work.”

“Yes sir.” You respond, and you don’t miss the way his gaze snaps back to yours at the title.

“Next time, that’s the only way you’ll refer to me.” He says like a promise before returning to his desk and getting back to work.

You got comfortable on the couch, pulling one of the pillows under your head to get comfortable and rest a bit before you had to get back up. But every time you thought your head was clear thoughts of all three men flooded your head.

Again the only thought you had was of how truly fucked you were.