#Violin maestro | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lovsalvatore · 2 years ago

Text

Your name on the list

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!reader

Summary: After missing a few notes during rehearsals, you have to prove once again to your Maestro that you still deserve a chance.

Warnings: +18, Minors DNI!, smut, nat has a penis, loss of virginity, groping, overstimulation, rough sex, pet names, a bit of manipulation, light choking, unprotected sex, praising, abuse of authority, infidelity, age gap.

Word count: 6.2k

a/n: here's part two for all you horny people. also; comment if you want to be tagged in the next part <3 ✰ series masterlist, main masterlist

"Okay, stop!" the Maestro's loud voice makes everyone stop playing their instruments immediately. Your hands that were previously on the piano keys just rest on your lap, playing with a loose thread of your blouse. "What's going on today huh? Just because it's Friday and you guys want to enjoy the weekend doesn't mean you have to play like a high school band."

When she says this your eyes go directly to your friend on the other side of the orchestra room, Kate. She widens her eyes, and makes a funny face like she's bored. Even though Natasha's words can be a little harsh at times, everyone here is used to it. Especially Kate. You remember one time Natasha just walked out of the auditorium after making you guys play the same song for hours and hours, saying it was still bad, and all that Bishop said was that at least she didn't say it was terrible, just bad, and that coming from Natasha is like a compliment.

You end up quietly laughing at your friend's action, but then Natasha's body get in the way, stopping a few meters away from you, right in the direction you were looking. All you see for a few seconds is her white shirt, but lifting your gaze you meet her green eyes, feeling her strong judgment in you. Fuck. Your smile disappears instantly. "If you keep playing like this, you don't even have to show up on the day of the big performance." she continues, looking away from you and crossing her arms in front of her body. "An empty stage is better than a whole audience listening to whatever this is that you're playing. Because as much as this symphony was composed by me, the way you guys are playing make it sound like shit, and I don't want people to think I compose shitty music."

She takes a step forward, getting out of the line of sight between you and your friend. You look at each other again, and Kate mouths an 'ouch.', exaggeratedly making an offended expression with her face. You again cannot contain a smile. Bishop always finds the fun in tragic moments, and you love her for it. And you know that if Natasha even saw these kinds of interactions that you two have during rehearsals she would be pissed, not out of jealousy, of course she's not jealous of you, but out of the fact that she hates not being taken seriously.

"In the next rehearsal I don't want any mistakes, especially in the violin part, you're not playing in sync." Natasha takes a deep breath through her nose, turning her face to look in your direction, but you’re more focused on staring blankly at the keys of the instrument in front of you. "But for now... you're dismissed." as soon as she says the words everyone starts to get up, walking towards the stairs to go down from the auditorium stage. You follow your colleagues, going to the first row of seats, which is where everyone usually leaves their belongings.

"Today she's in a bad mood." Kate says as soon as you reach her side. You take a quick look at the person she's referring to, she has her back to you, tying her hair up in her usual bun. You tried not to spend the entire night thinking about what happened between you two. But all you could imagine when you closed your eyes was how her cock felt inside your mouth, and how good it felt. You don't even remember when, but your hand was already inside your pajama pants, imagining it was her. You even tried using two of your fingers to mimic the feeling of what it might be like to have her inside you, but it hurt, all you were able to bear was half of just one finger of yours, so you stopped. You already know that she'll want to do something else today, and you think if it will hurt too. Or if she's going to let it hurt.

"I mean, it's impossible for her to be in a good mood."

You ignore Kate — so oblivious to your thoughts that you don't even know what to say to her — before picking up your backpack, slinging it over your shoulder. Every Friday you guys usually go to the bar at the end of the street after rehearsals, but you remember Natasha asking you to stay today again, and the way her mood is you sure don't want to give her another reason to stay even more grumpy. "I... I'm staying a little longer, the Maestro is helping me with some of my compositions." you lie, you don't even compose songs. "But you can go to the bar with the others, I'll meet you there."

"Oh... okay... I'll definitely want to listen to your piece later." she says in an excited tone, closing her violin case. "Just promise not to take too long, the bar is kinda boring without you."

"I promise."

"Okay perfect, and good luck with her." she pats your shoulder twice before walking past you, and you just stand there waiting for everyone to leave the orchestra room. When silence sets in, you realize that you are finally alone with Natasha again. She remains onstage as you grip the strap of your backpack so hard it looks like you want to tear the poor thing apart. You think if you look good, if the outfit you chose today caught her attention, if all the strands of your hair are in place. You’re nervous.

Natasha stares at you for a few seconds, actually, she couldn't take her eyes off you the entire time you were playing the piano, which isn't all that unusual, but this time she knew that at the end of the day she would have you, and that she wouldn't come home just to have to relieve herself alone thinking about you. But she didn't have a good day, you could tell from the way she was harsh with her words throughout rehearsal. Not that she isn't like that naturally, but today she put a lot of work into the insults. So all she wants now is to have something to make this day better. And you are the best option she has to solve this problem.

Her steps get louder as she steps down from the stage to approach you, who still has your back to her when you feel her presence so close to you. "Why don't you drop this, you're not leaving." she says referring to your backpack, and you immediately do as she asks, dropping it on the floor. Natasha smiles, seeing that she doesn't need to ask you twice for you to obey her. "Don't think you're an exception Y/N, you also disappointed me today."

You swallow hard, feeling her smooth the strands of your hair to the side to be able to kiss the curve of your neck. You close your eyes, her breath so close to your ear that you pay no attention to any other sounds in your surroundings. "You're gonna have to work really hard if you still want to be my first choice for the world tour, because with all the mistakes you made today..." she sucks your pulse point after saying this, making sure to leave a mark for everyone to see. "...maybe you don't really deserve this opportunity after all, hm?"

You haven't missed a single note, since you've been playing for her you've never made that mistake. You play the piano since you were six years old, so hitting the wrong key is something very unusual for you. But when you hear her saying that you made a mistake, you end up believing, it's her song, not yours. And Natasha knows it, she knows you played the song perfectly. But she needs a something to make you give her what she wants, even though deep down she knows you'd give in for no particular reason. "I-I... I know I deserve it." you say in a weak voice. "I can prove to you that I'm the best option, I know I can, Maestro."

"Yeah?" you gasp as her strong hands grope your breasts, pulling your body towards her and making you feel her hard bulge against your ass. You tremble in anticipation knowing that you're going to lose your virginity to her today, and you've kind of been preparing for it all day, so maybe that must have caused you to miss a few notes. Yeah, that would make sense. "I can put your name on the list today, you wouldn't have to wait another day to be part of the world tour... but only if you prove to me that you really are the best choice. Would you like that?" she asks close to your ear, and you nod frantically. "Good."

You feel a cool breeze hitting your body as she suddenly pulls away. As you turn to face her, you see her grabbing your backpack from the floor, slinging it over her shoulder before taking your hand. You look at her confused, but let her lead you to wherever she is leading. The two of you enter the hall of the building that you come to every day to stay hours playing the piano. It's dark, probably all the other employees working here are gone by now. You're known as the late-night musician crowd here, the ones that play for more hours straight too, five hours of class in total. So it wouldn't be surprising if in fact the only ones left here are you and Natasha. "Did your parents complain that you were late yesterday?" she lets go of your hand to get a key from her pocket, and unlocking a door she takes your arm to pull you into the room.

"No, I told 'em I was practicing, and they believed." you answer, hearing the door lock behind you. It's a relatively small room, it has a piano against one of the walls, but unlike the one in the orchestra room — which is a grand piano — this one is an upright one. There's a couch with red upholstery, a few other decorations, and then a desk. You walk towards it, running your finger across the wood material from one end to the other. "Is this your office?"

Natasha drops your backpack on the sofa along with her glasses before walking towards you. "No." she answers, and you again feel her warmth behind you. "I have my own office somewhere else, I just leave my stuff here from time to time." her hands go to your hips, sinking her nose into your neck to smell your perfume. "I spent the whole night thinking about you." you understand that she's not here to talk, she just wants something specific from you. You let her grip your body possessively, her hands squeezing every inch of you like she doesn't want you to leave. It's hot, you think that's even a little weird considering the fact that it's winter, but having her so close to you makes it feel like summer. And you can't deny that feeling her gaze on you throughout rehearsal has you completely needy for her, you already know that your underwear situation isn't the best, and you can't wait for her to finally do something about it.

But then something on the desk draws your attention. A ring. Natasha is a married woman, but she rarely wears her wedding ring. She just puts it on before leaving the house to prove her wife that she wears it, but whenever she gets here for rehearsals she leaves the little accessory in this room. There were times when she forgot, and kept the ring on all day, but rarely did anyone notice. Because as much as she loves her wife, Natasha still hates showing everyone that she belongs to someone, and that thought only started when you entered her life, what a coincidence. You bend your body to pick up the accessory, and when you look at it you can see a date engraved on the inside. It has a name too, but before you can read it Natasha snatches the object out of your hand.

"Sorry." you whisper, expecting her to call you names for taking something that isn't yours, but she doesn't. She doesn't have time for that. Natasha puts the ring on her finger, before turning her attention again to gripping your body. You feel bad for a few moments, knowing she has a wife who don't even imagine the things she does to you. But your mind is immersed in desire when Natasha's hand starts to go down between your breasts, to the button of your pants. She plays with your zipper while planting kisses all over your neck, with that, you find yourself thirsting for her with every passing second. "Nat..."

"Did you hear what I said? That you didn't get out of my head last night?" she unzips, and slowly pulls your pants down to your thighs. You feel your cheeks burn, feeling her play with the hem of your underwear. Are you really prepared for this? You think. But also think of the world tour, and the answer becomes clear. "I had to fuck my wife thinking about you to relieve myself." you bite the inside of your cheek, hearing her say such words makes you wet. You feel bad for her wife, yes, but turned on to know that Natasha thinks so highly of you. She thought about you all night, just like you thought about her. Maybe this could be more than just an exchange of favors, no?

With one hand, Natasha spreads your legs apart. You have both of your hands resting against the desk, as her hand starts to move up your inner thigh. "You're always so quiet." she chuckles when her hand reaches between your legs, your body squirms, pressing her fingertips against your underwear Natasha can feel how wet you are for her. This just makes her harder. "Is it because you've never done this before? Is that why you don't know what to say sweet girl?"

"Uhum." you hum, closing your eyes when she presses on your clit. "I just... I just need..."

"What?" in one swift motion she pulls your underwear down, and you end up moaning as her hand goes straight to your slit. You spread your legs a few more inches apart when she starts to move back and forth over your folds, looking down Natasha groans at the sight of your cheeks so close to her covered cock. "What do you need?" she continues to spread your wetness all over your pussy while her other hand grabs one of your breasts, making you close your eyes at the aggressiveness she does. "Do you wanna tell your Maestro what you need from her, hm?"

You want to talk to her, you really do. But it's the first time anyone's touched you like this, and you can do anything but form a complete sentence. You didn't think she'd be this quick, you really thought you'd at least talk before she had all of you, but feeling her fingers slip through your slits makes you not mind too much about that. You just need her, you're practically begging her to finally ruin you. "I really need you to say it so I can keep going." she murmurs, opening your folds with her fingers before teasing your entrance. "Do you want me to stretch your tight little pussy? Want me to be your first?" she ends up sliding just the tip of her finger inside you, and since you tried to do the same last night, the sensation is not so strange for you, but even so, because she’s the one doing it, it makes you feel different type of feelings.

You manage to nod your head at her question, gripping the edge of the table tightly as she switches from teasing your entrance to playing with your clit. You smile trapping your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to follow her movement into your sex with your hips. "I need words baby, please."

"Y-yes, fuck I need you, p-please."

The Maestro smiles, her heart beating wildly inside her chest. She pulls down her own pants and boxers, her hard cock as it springs out brushes lightly against your cheeks. Your hands that were once on the edge of the desk are now both pressed against your low back as Natasha takes your wrists, and with her other hand she forces your body into the desk, causing you to whine in pain when your cheek is pressed against the icy wood material, your breasts practically smashed against the table. You close your eyes for a few seconds at her subtle movement, and think about how easily she can position you however she wants. She's much stronger than you. And she wasn't really planning on ending up being this aggressive, but sometimes she can't help herself.

"Fuck... you're so wet." she says as she pulls back a little just to get a good view of your sex, her hand still holding yours against your lower back. "Who knew you got so turned on in the presence of your Maestro huh? What would your parents think of that? I don't think they would be so proud to hear that you lie to them by telling you're practicing when in reality you're letting yourself be fucked by your conductor."

You turn your head away to hide the embarrassment you feel, but pressing your forehead against the table is even more uncomfortable, so you end up turning your face away again, resting your cheek on the furniture. Natasha uses her free hand to rub her cock against your slits, groaning at the sight of your wetness mixing with her pre-cum. "Natasha... I..." you whisper, remembering that this can hurt. Even though you're so turned on, so wet that you might not feel a thing, you're still tinged with fear, and the red-haired woman can see it too. "I don't know if-."

"Shhh." she silences you, letting go of your wrists to brush the strands of hair that fall over your face. "It's okay, no need to be scared, it will feel good, I promise." you find comfort in her words, and that makes some of the fear go away, even though you know she's not that honest sometimes. The older woman even thinks of getting the lub she brought, but seeing how wet you are she thinks that won't be necessary. A gasp escapes her lips as she continues to rub her cock into your slit, and feeling the heat of your sex only make her more painfully aroused. “Stay still detka.”

You close your eyes tightly as you feel her tip slowly stretching your hole, and you realize it's very different from when you tried to use your fingers. She stays still for a while, and you think it's not that bad, at least not until she starts sliding even more inside you. You grunt in pain when half of her cock enters you, and even though you are wet, it still burns a little, trying to get used to this new sensation. "Fuck, you're so tight." Natasha breathes out the words, moving her hips back and making your pussy clenches around nothing. "Is this okay? Can I keep going?”

"U-uhm y-yes." you open your eyes again when she pulls your head by holding your hair, lifting it slightly but your body still pressed against the table.

"Good... This might hurt a little. Tap my thigh if you want me to stop."

You don't understand why you would have to tap her thigh when you can use your words, but feeling her hand pressing over your mouth you understand why. She uses her hand to stifle the scream that rips from your throat as she thrusts her cock all at once inside your pussy, and it hurts, it hurts like hell, but even so, your hand remains still, making no move to tap her thigh. Your entire body protests Natasha's gross invasion, but you remember she said this will feel good, and that's what you want to believe in. She pulls out, leaving only the tip inside you, before moving her hips forward in a blunt act, causing the table to swell slightly beneath you. "F-fuck." you mumble against her palm, every inch of her stretching your walls, feeling like at any moment she's going to destroy you from the inside by the thickness and length of her. She is indeed really big, you don't know what was on your mind when you thought this would be easy to take.

"Fuck baby, you're so tight, how am I supposed to move inside you hm?" Natasha's fingers continue to wrap around your hair as she presses your face back against the table, while her other hand grabs your hips to keep you still. She starts to fuck you slowly but hard at the same time. Her every thrust is aggressive, some things on the table even move with every move she makes against you. You palm your hands to the side of your body as that aching feeling inside you starts to turn into a feeling you didn't know would feel so good until now. "Do you think you can take more? Want me to fuck you hard?"

You clench around her dick at the thought of her fucking you harder than she already is, and the sensation this causes around Natasha's length makes her moan in pleasure. "Oh that's it... clench around my cock, fuck you're so hot." she sinks her nails into your hips, pulling you closer to her. "Do you want me to continue? Want me to fuck you mercilessly?"

"P-please." you beg, even deep down you want her to take it easy at first, moving your hips back when she stops suddenly with her movements. "Keep going, feels so good."

"Hm?" you feel her strong hand against your throat, pulling you up and making your body fully erect again. You feel the relief this caused on your cheek, but what holds your attention the most is the way Natasha's cock starts to fuck you from behind. "Like this? Want me to treat you like a slut?" your arms are pulled behind your body while her other hand is still around your throat. Natasha fucks you while preventing you from moving your arms, and at the same time making it difficult for oxygen to rise to your brain. You arch your back, your eyes rolling as you feel her hit against the deepest part of your pussy.

She's rougher with your cunt than she was with your mouth, sinking her thick cock into your tight walls and making you moan over it. It still hurts, you didn't have time to get used to its size completely, but you get wetter with each thrust that gets easier and easier for Natasha to fuck you hard. You feel your pants sliding down your legs with every pound of her, and it's not long before it falls to your ankles. "You wanted this didn't you?" she asks tightening her fingers around your neck even more. "I bet this isn't the first time you've wanted this from me, tell me, did you touch yourself thinking about me too? Did you use those talented hands of yours to imagine I was fucking you?” she wants to hear it from you, she wants to know that she wasn't the only one doing this all these months that you've been her apprentice.

"I-I, yes." you admit it, even though it's not true. Even if you had impure thoughts about your Maestro you've never really touched yourself thinking about her, but if that's what she wants to hear, that's what you'll say. And again, a big mistake you just made. "Fuck. it. hurts." you end up saying it out loud between labored sighs, feeling the tightness in your throat loosen.

"Want me to stop?" you shake your head from side to side quickly, feeling embarrassingly closer to the edge. Natasha slows down her thrusts inside you as she lowers the hand that was previously around your throat to massage your clit. She fucks you slowly, while making circular motions on your bundle of nerves at medium speed. With her light movements you can feel better the way she moves inside you, not just hard thrusts. You feel her cock sliding over your walls, and how her fingers work so well on your clit.

That's much better, slowly and carefully. You throw your head back, not understanding how you can still stand when the way she fucks you makes you feel boneless. "S-so good." you murmur, your arms move a little when you feel her ridge digging deep into the spongy part of you, but natasha holds them tighter, pulling you against her, almost making your back press against her covered breasts. She again feels your perfume invaded her senses, and thinks how she never wants to try anyone's scent but yours.

You didn't imagine that your first time would be in a random room, with a woman much older than you, and whom you admire so much. But now you don't think how it could just be better that already is. It's just wonderful the way her dick enters you carefully, as if this whole time it was meant to be. You wonder if it's normal to feel so ecstatic so quickly, you didn't think that anything other than your hand would be able to pull you over the edge so fast. And you want to hold on longer, trying to prolong her pleasure as well, but it gets hard when all you can feel is her thick cock sliding in and out of you, as your clit begins to grow sensitive to her touches. “You’re doing so good.” she whispers close to your ear, increasing the stimulation on your nerve just a little bit, only to pull you further towards the climax.

She hates that it took you so long to give yourself to her, and even though you're not completely hers yet, she already feels that way. She's wanted this for a long time, and now that she finally has what she wanted, it's going to be hard for her to let go. She rolls her hips over yours, and it's torturous but perfect at the same time.

Natasha has a hard time keeping her movements slow, all she wants is to abuse you until you can't walk the next day. But she also wants to make you feel good, she wants to make your first time worth it. And it's working. You feel the orgasm starting to build, and you know you won't be able to hold it back for long because of the way she makes you feel like you're out of gravity. "I... fuck... I'm so-." you don't even know what to say, you just try to control the moans that insist on coming out of your mouth. "Fuck I think I'm-."

"Come for me pretty girl, come on, I know you're close, come on, I got you."

It doesn't take long for you to reach your peak, and unlike when you're alone, this time feels totally different. You close your eyes tightly when the pleasure is all you can feel in every muscle in your body, Natasha rests her forehead on your back as she feels you squeezing her cock, feeling the wetness that spreads on her hand as she keeps stimulating you. "That's it..." she stops inside you, pressing her finger against your clit and feeling your sensitive area pulsating on her fingertips. Your breathing is uncontrolled when you finally break out of the trance, feeling your body sweating even though she did all the work.

It feels like you're drugged, and you're afraid you'll end up becoming addicted to her. And this was only the first time, you don't know if there will be others, but really hope so. With time she stops completely, waiting for you to get back together. And you thank her for it. It was so good, you want to go again, and again, until you can't take it anymore. You didn't know it would feel this good, you really were afraid that it would just hurt, but even though it did, in the end it was worth it.

You stay that way for a few moments before Natasha slowly pulls out of you, and you suddenly complain about the emptiness. Your legs are shaky as you turn your body to face her, her eyes showing nothing more than desire as they look directly into yours. "You okay?" she asks gently, cupping your face in her hands. You nod, staring at her parted lips. You try to bring your face even closer to kiss her, but the Maestro holds your jaw, preventing you from getting any closer. "No... no kissing."

"Why?"

"Oh detka, we're not trying to fall in love here, are we?" she speaks in a subtle way, even though she knew those weren't the words you wanted to hear. But you end up agreeing with her, it's really not what you're looking for, it's just an exchange of favors. You force that thought into your head, feeling the tip of her cock pressing against your bare sex. You look down, seeing the length of her glistening with your fluids, she imitates your act, this time getting a perfect view at your pussy. Is certainly one of the best views she's ever had. "Gonna keep fucking you okay?" she warns, running her fingers over your slits to make sure you stay wet, You shiver as she runs her finger over your clit before returning to your entrance. She pulls two fingers inside you, wetting them before leading them to her mouth. Natasha hums while feeling your taste on her tongue, and you think it wouldn't be possible for a scene to be this mesmerising, but ends up being anyway. Being completely aware of your arousal she quickly gets back to work.

Natasha groans, lifting one of your legs up to her hip to continue. She hasn't come yet. You weren't expecting it when she pushes her cock back inside you, and unlike how she was doing it a few minutes ago this time she just uses you like a fuck doll. And that's what you are to her, just someone to fuck, not someone to create emotional bonds with. At least that's what she's trying to get herself to believe in.

"You don't know how good it feels to have you squeezing my cock... my god how tight you are." you'll never get tired of hearing her tell you this, it just works the way you feel around her even more. The sounds you two make aren't low by any chance, and you're grateful that there's no one around to know what the two of you are up to behind closed doors. "You're so fucking beautiful, you're perfect."

Your legs feel like jelly, still trying to fully recover from your last orgasm, and noticing your difficulty standing up Natasha holds both your thighs, pulling you to sit on top of the desk, while thrusting her cock even deeper inside you.

She grips your jaw tightly, forcing you to look deep into her eyes as she fucks you. You see the darkness that consumes her, so lost in desire it makes your body convulse. "You're just a tiny little talented slut aren't ya? Look how good you take me all in." her breath hits against your lips, and you try to control yourself so you don't end up realising it again, feeling overstimulated by her every second. "So... so good for me, only for me.”

You rests both your hands on the table, wrapping your legs around Natasha's hips feeling her fuck you quickly and aggressively. Her hands grip tight on your thighs, and she tries to maintain eye contact with you, but she wants to see how she fucks you, she wants to see the scene of her destroying you from the inside. She lowers her sight to focus on the way her cock disappears inside you, how you take her so well even being your first time. "Gonna come so deep inside you." she whispers, feeling closer with her own words. "Gonna fill you up so good baby."

You feel the heat getting more unbearable, as it seems the walls of the room get smaller around you, one of your hands going towards her shoulder for better balance. You expect the table to break at any moment, just like Natasha is doing with your insides. And unlike her, you keep your eyes glued to the expressions on her face; how her eyebrows furrow up, how she tries to keep her moans from being audible. "Oh fuck... fuck... keep taking it... that's it..." you feel her nails digging deep into the skin of your thighs, and you know you're going to be bruised all over, but the thought of it makes your heart warm. "Is this making you feel good? Oh I bet so. Want to tell me how good I make you feel?"

"Y-yes... you make me feel so good." you say in uncontrolled breaths, squeezing her shoulder hard as you feel yet another orgasm slamming against your body like a brick. But still Natasha doesn't stop, even noticing the way your walls tighten around her cock, she still keeps pushing inside you harshly. "Fuuuck... fuck I don't think I can... Nat... p-please-."

"Shhhh, yes you can, I'm almost there, keep taking it." her hands lift your shirt up to your breasts, and she grunts at the sight of them covered by your bra. All she wanted right now was to get that stupid piece of clothing off your body, but being content with what she has she just squeezes them, your breasts fit perfectly into her palms, and she gropes them so hard it seems like your skin burns with her touch.

Your legs fall from her hips, feeling so overstimulated you don't have the strength to keep them wrapped around her. Natasha also finds it difficult to keep pushing inside you because you're so tight, and you try your best to keep taking her. That pain that had passed comes back, making you cry when you realize that you won't be able to hold on. "Please... please!" you beg, squeezing her shoulder and making Natasha hiss from the strength you do it. "Nat please I can't… it hurts.”

"Baby, begging isn't going to get you anywhere... you didn't ask me to stop, so keep quiet hm?" you nod your head realizing that what she says is true, you didn't actually ask her to stop, you just begged, but for nothing in particular. You feel so sensitive, her cock feels so big on you that it really hurts, but also a pain that feels really good. Fuck, it hurts so good you even feel ashamed to admit it. It feels like you're going to pass out, the room grows dark and your breath gets shorter. And the Maestro sees the tears running down your cheeks, and that's the last straw for her. With a few more thrusts you feel her warm fluid being released inside you, painting your inner walls all over. "Yeah... that's it... fuck… you feel so good."

Natasha practically collapses on top of you, resting her head in the crook of your neck as she continues to fill yourself with her cum. She moves her hips slowly to fuck the cum inside you, and you hate to admit that the wet noises of her action are so arousing. She closes her eyes for a few seconds feeling her dick throbbing inside you. "Nat..." you whine as she pulls away, and then taking her cock outside you you can feel the liquid seeping through your slits. You sigh with immediate relief, and only then do you realize your face is wet with your tears. Natasha grabs her shaft, rubbing it in your pussy and watching as her white juice spreads through your folds. She slides the tip back inside to keep every last drop that’s left in you, before going back to rubbing the end of it on your clit. Natasha is mesmerized, and even though she wants to continue she takes a step back.

"You did so good, I'm proud of you." she runs her knuckles over your cheeks, wiping the tears away. You close your eyes in her caress, feeling your pussy throbbing. "You were perfect."

And then the room is back to its normal size, the walls aren't suffocating you anymore, and the heat isn't so unbearable. Natasha picks up your underwear on the floor, and passes them by your feet to help you put them on, and you end up getting up from the table so she can pass the piece of clothing to your thighs. She doesn't say anything as she picks up your pants as well, holding them out to you before running her fingers over the strands of her hair. She's still hard when she tucks her cock into her pants, and as soon as you're fully dressed again you approach her. "I can help you with that..." you say directing your hand to the bulge in her pants, but Natasha shakes her head no.

"No, it's okay sweet girl." you smile when you hear her call you by the nickname, then just nod as she starts walking towards the door. She unlocks it, and holds it open for you to pass. As you move you can feel some of her cum that was still inside you wet your underwear, and then it hits you, you really did it, it doesn't even seem real, and the worst of it is that you liked it more than you should have. After you pick up your backpack on top of the sofa, you two begin a silent path through the corridors. You feel your legs weak, and you fear it will only get worse when you wake up the next day. But as has been said before, it was all worth it. When you're next to her, you see Natasha fiddling with her phone, talking to someone in messages. You also notice the way she squeezes her cock over her pants, the discomfort you left her in still isn't entirely gone. "Are you gonna get an uber or something?" she asks as soon as you step onto the sidewalk outside of the building.

"Uhm... no... I'm gonna go to a bar with my friends at the end of the street."

She just nods, not taking her eyes off her phone screen. You tighten your backpack straps, rocking your body back and forth not knowing if you should just walk away or wait for her to say goodbye first. She types quickly to whoever is talking to her, and you see the way her brows furrow, like she's worried about something. "I uhm... I should go." she says before finally looking up at you, giving you a weak smile. "Are you okay with what happened today?"

"Yes." you answer immediately. "It was... really good."

Indeed it was, you could do it for hours. You didn't know sex could feel this good. Or at least the sex with her definitely was.

"Okay good." she's relieved that she didn't make you do anything you didn't want to, even though she knows the real reason why you actually did it. "And... I'll talk to you next week about what I told you earlier."

"What?" you ask, not really knowing what she's talking about.

"The list... Your name on the list."

Oh, this.

For a moment you even forgot about it, you felt so good in her presence that you didn't even remember that in fact all of this was for other intentions. "Oh yes of course… okay." Natasha stares at you for a few more seconds before walking towards her car, leaving you alone. When she drives away you follow the vehicle with your eyes until it completely disappears from your view. And then you're back to reality. And what a shitty reality.

taglist: @kksalexa @madelineleong @shaniaauld03 @natashafanatic @gayerthanevertbh @wifeofnatasharomanoff

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oliversrarebooks · 19 days ago

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The Rare Bookseller Part 74: Fitz's Metronome

Previous > Masterlist > Next

tw: mind control, body control, emotional abuse, torture, captivity, hypnosis

September 1905

With a cold, stiff hand resting just on top of his head, Fitz was marched out of the dank basement like a marionette. He couldn't even find relief from being done with Lex's torture -- for now, at least -- because he was drowning in terror at his own fate, wondering if he'd ever control his own body again.

The Maestro had carried the weak lantern with him, so that Fitz could see a bit of the manor surrounding him. The oppressive patterns of the wallpaper, the dark wood door frames with their yawning openings, the intricately carved wooden furniture, all of it seemed to swallow what little light there was. The main floor of the manor was less obviously a prison than the basement where Lex had been chained, but it was a prison nonetheless.

Was this where he'd spend the rest of his days, in the dark, cold gloom? Would he die here?

His new master led Fitz into a room which seemed slightly more welcoming than the others. It was a music room, and what he could see was filled with antique instruments in perfect condition. Polished horns sat in neat brackets on the walls, violins and other stringed instruments rested in their stands, and an antique piano occupied the center of the room.

Fitz's body came to a stop in the middle of the room, standing as still as a statue, with Fitz hardly even able to blink. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Maestro pull a measuring tape from his pocket. He measured the circumference of Fitz's chest and stomach, the lengths of his legs and arms, the length and width of his feet, and more, while Fitz's automatically body shifted to accommodate the measurements.

It reminded Fitz of the last time he'd been measured so thoroughly, that night in the auction house where he'd first met Lex. He'd been scared out of hits wits then, too, but he'd also had hope, hope that his charm and charisma and ability to look great in a red velvet ballgown would earn him a permissive master. Fitz couldn't muster up any such hope now. There would be no softening of Lex's sire, no manipulation to earn privileges, not when he wasn't even allowed to speak.

The Maestro sat down at a nearby desk, leaving Fitz standing stiff as a board in the middle of the room. He dipped a pen in ink and wrote out a note, then rang a small brass bell. A moment later, a tired-looking older man in a modest black suit appeared at the door.

"Fetch clothes appropriate for these measurements. I have another new thrall this evening."

His eyes flicked over to Fitz very, very briefly. "Yes, sir," he said, exiting the room as swiftly as he appeared.

Another new thrall? Fitz wondered how many he had. But he didn't have much time to wonder, because the Maestro stood before Fitz again, running an icy hand below his chin and tilting his head up to meet his eyes.

His eyes were as deep as the ocean and as dark as a moonless night, and Fitz couldn't look away from them, even as he felt their pull. He was being enthralled. His new master wasn't simply content with controlling every movement of Fitz's body. He was trying to control Fitz's mind too. Fitz could feel himself scrabbling for purchase, trying to keep his grip on his thoughts even as they began to slip from his grasp.

"That's it, child," he said in that dreadfully melodic voice. "You will look deeply into my eyes, and you will lose yourself. Your mind, your body, and your will are all mine, to do with as I must."

He slipped. He was falling, falling, falling down a pitch-black well that seemed to go on for miles and miles. His thoughts began to empty as he sank further into a daze, unable to resist the thick blanket of control that was smothering him.

"Fitzwilliam de Hastings. Third son of the de Hastings family and an abject disappointment in every conceivable way. Am I correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"Despite that unfortunate history, you may be excellent raw material." A porcelain thumb stroked Fitz's cheek just below his eye. "Your parents didn't have the strength, the knowledge, or the time to mold you into anything better than this pathetic creature, did they? Despite having little understanding of humans, I can be certain that they did not love nor care for you. If they had cared for you, they wouldn't have left your talents and better qualities to rot and spoil."

Fitz was sinking so deeply under his spell that he couldn't muster even an internal denial to any of this. No, his parents most certainly didn't care for him. They probably thought it was just as well that Fitz was gone, if they even gave it any thought.. His heart ached with the jealousy he'd felt each time his father praised his golden older brother, praise that Fitz would never hear himself.

"If someone had cared about you, they would have corrected your personality."

No, that wasn't right, couldn't have been right. Correcting Fitz was all his father ever did, and he knew that his father hadn't cared about him, would've just as soon not had a useless third son.

"Make no mistake, child, I certainly don't care for you either. I would be incapable of such a thing, even if you did deserve such tender treatment," said the Maestro, pulling Fitz in slightly closer. "I don't care for you, but I have time. All the time in the world, and some dim flicker of curiosity. Curiosity to see if I can mold something like you into something perfect. That is why I am prepared to do you a great mercy."

"Mercy…" Fitz's voice came out as a pleading whine.

"Yes, a mercy. I will be the one to correct your vile personality. Despite your deficiencies, I think you understand that it has brought you nothing but suffering. A lifetime of poor choices and waste."

Fitz wanted to deny it, but it was his choices that brought him here, wasn't it? If he hadn't pursued the stage, if he hadn't taken Miss Lily's bet, if he hadn't charmed Lex…

His master suddenly broke his gaze and released Fitz, who was still falling, lost in his spell. The servant from earlier had arrived silently, and handed the Maestro a set of neatly folded clothes with a deep bow. The Maestro looked over the clothes and nodded at the servant, who exited the room with an unnaturally rhythmic gait.

Fitz knew that would be him, a puppet on strings, fit only to serve, and the cruel voice in his head whispered that maybe it was all he was good for.

The Maestro turned back to Fitz and began unbuttoning his shirt, one button after the next. His chest was exposed to the cold, damp air of the manor, but under his master's power, he could hardly even shiver. There was nothing he could do to resist as one leg lifted, and then the other, allowing the Maestro to remove his shoes and socks, followed by his pants.

As his clothing was removed and set aside, Fitz was reminded that he was wearing his stage magician's costume. He'd had a performance just earlier tonight, his last. It already seemed like ages had passed since them.

And then he was standing utterly nude before his new master, body fully controlled and mind ensorcelled, with no protection and nowhere to hide.

Fortunately, the Maestro didn't seem to care for Fitz's nude body. He wasted no time dressing Fitz in the clothing the servant had brought. The drab suit was scratchy and uncomfortable, and it was such a small thing, but Fitz couldn't help but despair at it. A lifetime in uncomfortable, stuffy clothes.

Once Fitz was dressed, the Maestro examined him this way and that, pinching at the cloth here and drawing it upwards there. "This will require some tailoring, but that can be handled later. It's an improvement for now." He tossed Fitz's old clothes to the side like rags and rang the bell once more. The servant arrived to collect them, and then the only possessions Fitz had left were gone.

The Maestro gestured to the piano, and Fitz's body moved to sit on the bench. He was going to have to play, and Fitz already knew his meager skills and repertoire of popular ragtime tunes wouldn't satisfy his master. There was a metronome with a shining brass arm sitting on the top of the piano, a surprisingly modern touch.

His master reached past Fitz's shoulder and started the metronome in a slow rhythm, and Fitz couldn't help but watch it and listen to its tock-tock-tock. His fogged mind wondered when the Maestro would make him start playing, but as the minutes dragged on, he realized that he wasn't going to play. No, all he could do was sit there and watch the metronome.

Almost experimentally, he tried to turn his eyes away, and found that he could not. His master had taken hold of his very eyes, keeping them glued tightly to the metronome's arm. Now he was aware of the way his eyes were being forced to follow, and he couldn't help but try to resist it, with a spike of panic. Resisting it was like walking through a wall, or struggling against thick chains, and it only made his pupils jitter strangely, the metronome's arm going briefly out of focus.

"You will allow the rhythm to enter your head," said the melodic voice near his ear. "You will allow it to govern your thoughts, your movements. You will allow your own thoughts to fade."

Fitz could feel it, the way his thoughts were slowing and swirling in time with the metronome, the way his emotions were growing dim. He dug in, determined to stubbornly fight it as long as possible. Even if it was futile, he didn't want to go out easily.

"Everything you are, everything that is not me will fade away. You cannot fight this. You will not fight this. You are weak and you know that you will slip."

He tried to pull whatever happy memories he had from the recesses of his mind, one last moment of fun before the doom. Taking his bows to raucous applause. Laughing and drinking with fellow actors after a show. Bluffing his way to a poker jackpot.

"The only sound in your head is the rhythm. The only thoughts in your mind are mine."

tock - tock - tock

Dancing in the music room with Lex. Lex holding him while he fell asleep. The night he'd finally got up the courage to kiss him.

"The only desire left to you is servitude. You will submit."

No --

"You will submit. Blank. Empty. A doll on which to impose my will."

Lex wouldn't want him this way. Lex wanted him just the way he was.

But…

As Fitz was kissing Lex in his mind's eye, he saw that handsome face with a silver knife jammed into the eye, dark blood dripping from the wound in a rhythm like

tock - tock - tock

Fitz knew he wasn't worth it. Fitz could never have been worth all of that.

tock - tock - tock

"You will feel relief as you are washed clean. It is the only relief you will have for some time, so I suggest you savor it."

His mind swirled with the images of Lex's tormented body lying motionless on the basement floor.

tock - tock - tock

Relief. Yes, he wanted relief. He didn't want to see that any more.

"No more thoughts. No more wants. No more needs. No more distractions or decisions. You are my doll to pose, to mold, to break. My empty vessel. You are better this way. Far, far better."

One more memory flashed into Fitz's rapidly fading mind. His father looming over him, so tall and so stern, and all Fitz wanted was to please him, but he never did. He grabbed Fitz's arm too tight. It hurt, and Fitz bit back tears. "Why can't you just do as you're told?"

He wanted to. He wanted to just do what he was told so badly, but he couldn't.

"Yes, Fitzwilliam," said his master. "You will never again have to despair at not doing what you're told. I will make you do what you are told, always. I will make you perfect."

Tears were dripping down his chin in the same rhythm as the metronome. "Thank you, sir."

Previous > Masterlist > Next

Next week, Vivian is on Alexander's trail.

Thanks so much for reading this story. The feedback I get always brightens my days.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin

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#whump #whump writing #vampires #mind control #hypnosis #vampire whump #rare bookseller #fitz #maestro

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thedeviltohisangel · 3 months ago

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All The Things I Did (Interlude): Happy Birthday, Flyboy

@gloryofroses19 reminded me over the weekend that it was John's birthday so I had to write a little interlude. this takes place circa 1951 while the Egan's are living in Japan. I hope you all enjoy it, it is nothing but fluff fluff fluff with maybe a little bit of sexy flirting sprinkled in. love you xoxo

Cass craned her neck in the mirror to make sure she had gotten the hair at the back of her head into her curlers. She had tried to pack her entire vanity into her suitcase but hadn’t been completely successful. And she could tell exactly what was out of place in front of her as she sat in front of the mirror. She was missing her eye shadow brush that was tapered at her preferred narrow angle. The other three laid out in front of her just weren’t the same. Same for the two blush brushes that were different than the one she knew must have been left at home and the pan of eyeshadow that wasn’t the shade of pink that she had thought she’d packed. She sighed, knowing it was probably smeared over Penelope’s face by now.

When it came to biding her time, the toddler was most certainly taking after her mother. She knew how to be patient. How to observe for a weakness. How to act innocently for forgiveness. It worked on John like a charm. Their daughter knew how to play him like a maestro on violin and he fell for it happily every time.

“I thought you were going to take a bath with me before dinner?” John bent down to kiss the top of her head but paused when he couldn’t find an opening in the curlers. His hand wrapped under her chin and tilted her head back. “I don’t like when things get in the way of kissing you.” His thumb stroked over her throat as their lips connected.

“I said I would take a bath with you after dinner. We would never make it to dinner if I took one with you before.” They were spending John’s birthday weekend in a villa with a stunning view of Mount Fuji. The morning had been spent in the natural hot springs and the evening promised a beautiful dinner by candlelight. The relaxation they needed with only a few months left before Imogene’s first birthday brought a new wave of activity into their home. “And don’t distract me from trying to get ready! I haven’t gotten dolled up in a while and I’ve been looking forward to it.” She turned back towards the mirror and the various creams and serums and powders with a huff.

“Have I told you how much I love you recently?” Cass blushed. After four kids and six years of marriage, she would never tire of her sweet man.

“It’s been a couple of hours I think…” she mused as she tried to focus on curving the bronze tone around her eye just right.

“I guess I should fix that then.” She giggled as he dropped to his knees before her and wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her robe-clad figure to his lips. His nose nudged open the fabric and kissed at the skin of her stomach that was bare, smiling as she squirmed slightly from the tickling. “I love you so much. You’ve given me the four most beautiful babies in the entire world. You’ve allowed me the honor of being your husband. You moved across the world so we’d never have to be without each other’s touch. Telling you I love you can’t even begin to capture the extent of what I feel for you.” She held his face in her hands.

“It’s your birthday. I’m the one who should be making such wonderful speeches about you.” John shook his head and pressed forward to kiss her.

“You’re the only reason I’m even here to celebrate my birthday, Spook. The only reason I even have it in me to be happy.” It wasn’t lost on him that he could have been alone for this birthday. That he could have been spending it at the dining hall on base with his men trying to cheer him up, rereading the letters from Cass and the kids until his sorrow allowed him to find a restless sleep.

Instead, three months after the birth of Imogene, Cass had packed up their family and their home and moved to Tokyo. She was Chief of Operations at Tokyo Station. John had been promoted to Colonel. They were busy and they were exhausted but they were happy. They were in love. And most importantly, they were together.

“I love you.” It was her simple attempt at trying to capture everything swirling in her heart. There would never be the words for the feelings. They hadn’t been invented because a love like theirs had never occurred.

“I love you, too, baby. I love you so much.” She puckered her lips and he pecked a kiss against her gently.

“Now if you don’t mind…”

“Fine, fine. I’ll leave you to your potions.” He rose with a grunt, Cass biting back her remark about him becoming an old man but holding back her ogling when his fingers scratched at the hair that disappeared into his boxers. “I offered a bath, Cassandra Ann Egan. You don’t get to say no then look at me like that.”

“My full name?” she gasped. “As if I could say I changed my mind and you wouldn’t be on me in a second.” She pointed a makeup brush at him for effect. His head poked back into the bathroom instantly.

“Have you changed your mind?”

----

Every nerve in her body felt on fire as their fingers danced together in the middle of the dinner table. Their last course was being cleared before dessert but her husband looked more appetizing than anything they could put in front of her.

He hadn’t let go of her hand once the entire meal. Had stroked his thumb over the top of her hand. Traced a heart onto her palm. Twisted their fingers together in a waltz that had her breath stolen and heart skipping. She loved the way their fingers slotted together like they were carved from the same rock at the center of the earth. Like he was made just for her to love.

“You look very handsome tonight,” she hummed.

“It’s a wonder I even have the sanity to sit at this table, Cass, with how beautiful you look tonight.” The champagne urged a giggle from her lips and he smiled triumphantly. “How’s it possible to love you more everyday?” His question was sincere. His eyes soft and curious as he regarded her like the eighth wonder of the world.

“I wish I had the answer. But I love waking up every morning and learning that it remains to be true.” Cass brought his hand to her lips and kissed each knuckle before bringing it to her cheek. “Happy birthday, Johnny.”

“Thank you, baby.” He leaned across the table to kiss her and was about to ask her to ditch dessert and head back to their villa when the manager appeared next to their table.

“Colonel Egan, Mrs. Egan, I apologize. We have your children on the phone at the front desk.”

“What?” Cass pushed back from the table with a preternatural speed. “Is everything okay? Oh my God!” John jogged after her as she made a beeline for the front desk.

“Mommy?”

“Penny? What’s wrong, my love? Where’s Joan?”

“I want to talk to Daddy.” Cass handed the phone to her husband, pressing her chin into her chest so she could listen.

“Hi, Princess.”

“Happy birthday, Daddy!” John smiled and the tension eased from Cass’ muscles. “Gale and Lillian and Immy are asleep but they say happy birthday too.” Penelope knew it was tomorrow but was resolved to be the first of her siblings to say it to her father.

“Thank you, my love. And why aren’t you asleep?”

“Too hard. I miss you and mommy.”

“We’ll be home tomorrow and I want so many hugs and cuddles from you as my birthday present.”

“Tea party?” He chuckled and hugged Cass closer to his chest.

“A really big tea party.” Penelope squeaked with delight on the other end of the phone…Before she was quieted by the muffled sounds of the nanny discovering her in the kitchen.

“Bye Daddy. Love you.” The line was clicked off before he could even respond.

“Well, Penny knows how to use the phone,” he mused. He apologized as he handed the phone back to the front desk.

“She’s going to be a menace as a teenager.” John kissed the top of his wife’s head as he pushed her chair in for her, back at their table after the momentary distraction.

“That’s why we have Gale to balance her out. Maybe the two of them can meet in the middle some day.” Where Penelope was fire and brimstone and spinning on every axel, Gale was quiet and patient and observant and measured in his approach to everything.

“But they're both so full of love. All of our babies are.” Cass’ voice was dreamy as she thought of the precious little Egans that were at home. “I miss them.” Immy in particular was still so little. A tiny baby that clung to her parents and was just happy to tug on Butter’s ears all day.

“I miss them, too. But we’ll have them back in our arms tomorrow. And you deserved a couple nights to focus on yourself. You put them first and are the most wonderful mother in the world, Cass. It’s okay to give yourself a full night’s sleep once in a while.”

“I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to balance it all, as hard as I try. But I love this life so much, John. The life we’ve built together.”

“You thrive in the chaos, baby,” John teased with delight in his eyes. “Actually-” Cass clapped as he was interrupted by the appearance of a chocolate cake with a litany of candles.

“Happy birthday, Flyboy!” It was simply sinful coming out of her mouth. Made his cheeks burn hotter than the flames dancing on the cake. Made him shift his hips to try and quell his growing desire for his wife. “I could sing for you…” He hummed as the cake settled in front of him.

“The song of a siren. You can sing for me in the bath.” She rolled her eyes.

“You and that bath.” He merely winked, closing his eyes to make a wish before blowing out the candles. “I love you.” Cass leaned across the table to meet him halfway in a kiss as the cake was taken away to be plated for them.

“Are you going to let me feed you cake like it’s our wedding day?”

“Is that what you wished for?”

“We can have another wedding if you want, Spook.” He’d marry her every single day. Every version more opulent than the last if that is what she wanted.

“Maybe in a few years. I want to just relax and enjoy Immy as a baby. Enjoy all our kids exactly in the stage of life they are now.” They thanked the waitress who returned with cake and John tugged Cass’ plate away from her. His fork cut through the sponge and extended towards her lips and she made sure her desires for what she truly wanted between her lips were known through her eyes.

“Just like that,” he whispered in a daze as he didn’t even try to control the lust coating his gaze. He was a selfish man, wanting this angel all to himself. But he had no interest in ever sharing. The world had already taken so much of her. The pieces that remained were his to cherish. His to protect. He wouldn’t fail her again. He couldn’t fail her again.

And it was that thought that woke him violently from his sleep only a few hours later. A cool sheen of sweat across his skin. His chest heaving with the struggle to bring in oxygen.

“Baby?” Cass pinched her face together where it rested on his bare chest as his turmoil woke her from her slumber. “What’s the matter?” she slurred.

“Nothing…Just…” Germany. Wisconsin. Flashing through his mind at a dizzying speed. The level of anger he had held for her. The near hatred that had watered in his mouth when he saw her in that camp. How the word divorce had fallen from his lips that night in his childhood bedroom. How his actions could have led down a path that didn’t end here.

“Bad dreams?”

“Memories.” He didn’t ever want to forget the horrors they had been through together. Ever let the ache in his chest at putting her through what he did escape him. He needed to remember so he could be sure to cherish the moments they had now. Cherish the gift heaven had given him by keeping her in his universe.

“And they’re just that. In the past.” Cass kissed at the patch of hair over his heart and rested her chin on her hand, gazing up at him.

“I’m sorry. For how I treated you in Germany. For everything I said to you that night in Wisconsin.” She sighed and shifted so her elbow was resting on the pillow next to him. The nightmares of the war plagued both of them. Woke them from sleep less frequently than they had before but often enough they’d had this conversation many times.

“You’ve made up for it four times over with our babies.” Her fingers wrapped with his as she pressed kisses to each of his knuckles. “You’re loved, John. You’re endlessly loved.” She had forgiven him years ago. Received his forgiveness in kind. But she would remind him of that every night if he needed. Anything to bring him the peace he had earned.

John leaned forward and pressed kisses to her bare shoulder, collarbone, up her neck and to her lips. “If I give you another baby, am I forgiven five times over?” Her leg was over his hip with a breathless laugh, his hands steadying her at the waist.

“When Immy is older, we can talk about it.” Considering John’s apathy for condoms, it might happen sooner.

She guided him into her with ease, sighing at the feeling of him stretching her out. John needed this. The physical reminder that she was his and here and not leaving. The reminder that they worked together better than they ever had. “I need you, always.”

“You have me, always.” Her blue sky. His north star. A compass he’d follow anywhere knowing it would lead him home. It wasn’t a place, it was a person. His wife. His own corner of the universe that was his to seek solace in.

No one could take this from them.

It was theirs. And they'd protect it with all they had.

No matter what it may cost them.

#john egan #masters of the air #john egan fanfiction #masters of the air fanfiction #john egan x oc #callum turner #cass and bucky

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opera-ghosts · 5 months ago

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Leopold Auer and Jascha Heifetz

Today: On the anniversary of his death, enjoy this short c. 1920's colorized silent film clip showing hugely influential violin pedagogue Leopold Auer (1845 - 1930) "coaching" one of his greatest students -- legendary 20th Century super-virtuoso Jascha Heifetz (1901 - 1987).

Auer himself studied under the celebrated virtuoso Joseph Joachim (1831 - 1907), and by the time he was 23 years old, he was already actively teaching.

By most accounts, Auer was an exceptional concert violinist. Pyotr Tchaikovsky (1840 - 1893) in particular was very taken with his playing, noting in a published review that Auer possessed “great expressivity, thoughtful finesse, and poetry of interpretation.”

Nevertheless, Auer’s lasting claim to fame undoubtedly lies in his incredible pedagogic legacy. Auer’s pupils included some of the greatest 20th Century violinists, including Efrem Zimbalist (1889 - 1985), Mischa Elman (1891 - 1967), Jascha Heifetz (1901 - 1987), and Nathan Milstein (1904 - 1992)… an "honor roll" that could easily be extended...

One infamous incident from Auer's career is worth recounting: Tchaikovsky initially wanted to dedicate his famous Violin Concerto to Auer, but after Auer tactlessly informed Tchaikovsky that he regarded the work as “unplayable,” a furious Tchaikovsky withdrew the proposed dedication. (Auer later changed his mind, and Tchaikovsky's Violin Concerto came to occupy a prominent place in his extensive repertoire.)

In addition to his pedagogic activities, Auer also penned several books late in life, including “Violin Playing As I Teach It” (1921), “My Long Life in Music” (1923), and “Violin Masterworks and Their Interpretation” (1925). They remain worthwhile reads for violinists.

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cordelika · 1 month ago

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Happy Birthday, Maestro Antonio!!

Ahead is chaos, behind is the mad devilish laughter of the violin

#арт #artists on tumblr #artwork #артист #art #digital art #my art #nail art #русский арт #диджитал арт #Antonio #antonio paganini #antonio idv #антонио #антонио Паганини #скрипач #violinist #violinist idv

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athanasius-symposium-of-writings · 1 month ago

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Happy Birthday, Maestro Antonio Paganini

With tears in my eyes im trying so hard not to miss the birthdays but im so busy sobs

Rated: Mature | Warnings: the reader is male and based on my oc

Antonio Paganini was born on October twenty-seventh in the year seven hundred twenty-five. You remember this day since you were four years old and mark it on your calendar.

Every morning, you begged the maid to help you bake a cupcake to celebrate the birthday of the world's greatest violinist! The maid seemed to not mind, but then again, she was paid to service the family, so… You made them match the color description in old newspapers. Every morning, the driver would take you to the park, where you would watch a free performance by a college orchestra playing a few of Paganini’s short pieces.

When you turned seven, your father bought you a puppy with dark brown fur, and dark brown eyes; obedient and well-trained. Your puppy was bought on Antonio's birthday but given the name Mozart (you did not want to be on the nose with naming the old girl). Your father rolled his eyes, not amused by the name. Your mother thought it was cute and helped you raise the puppy.

The puppy would accompany you until her passing.

When you celebrated the violinist's birthday again, now thirteen, your father gifted you a Stradivarius! Highly sought after and rumored to be one type of violin Antonio Paganini used— Then you told your father it was actually a Guarneri violin… He was very cross!

You played this violin when visiting where Antonio Paganini died, his final piece placed with practiced skill and minimal mistakes.

As you grew older, becoming part of the Royal Orchestra and the bane of your father's existence, you could no longer bake a cupcake or watch the college students perform or play a piece in his honor, you could at least honor him by raising to the challenge as first chair of the first stand! You pride yourself in your skill, talent, and undying passion.

Your passion however leads to this cursed manor— Though you found your glowing silver lining in man you have admired the moment his piece performed in a recording by the Royal Orchestra was played by your mother. You could not help not being too afraid of him, well, you are during matches but outside of them you are admired just as you were as a young child.

Which meant you had embarrassed yourself quite a few times (you wished not to bring up old unpleasant memories) Antonio is pleasant to speak to.

“Hmm?” He saw the cupcake brought to him by the peeper, a card next to it. The handwriting of his last name is all too familiar as Victor had been diligent in delivering letters between you and the Violinist (an idea given to you by the postman when you were drunk and pouring your heart out to the awkward man).

Happy birthday, Antonio. This is a bourbon chocolate cupcake. A taste with more to be had.

No surprise you know his birthday, it has become humorous as he knows your fascination with him is akin to one admiring Becker or the Kreiburg boy's father.

The cupcake is eaten with enjoyment, the demon voicing its usual nonsense before it took control for the match, Antonio at least got to enjoy the treat.

The card was taken with him before the match started.

During the match, the smell of your cologne on it, he could smell it as he walked around.

Antonio did not have it in him to put his full attention on hunting, the demon was annoyed by how the man's heart was “warm and fuzzy” though it no longer beats and he is no longer warm. It seems being in a good mood and thinking about the little cellist is not allowed.

The Violinist went friendly though the tendrils of hair did swipe at anyone who got too close to bother him. The taste of high-quality bourbon still lingers in his mouth, the chocolate sweet enough but not too overpowering, the flower cute strawberry an artistic touch.

The match ended quickly as the two decoders did their jobs and left immediately. The other two followed when Antonio had scared one (the thief is an annoying yapper when with the lawyer) enough with a music note.

A loss, he can let the demon have its fun later.

You were in the wine cellar, a spot the Violinist and yourself often meet in when there are no celebrations going on linking the hunters’ and survivors’ manor. There are key spots where those who work between the manors walk around, these spots are the only places linked between manors constantly.

Manor magical nonsense most call it and don't think about it.

You stand near the area where they prepare the bottles and glasses, a nice clean space, and two seats with a small table for idle chatter as the wine bottles are made. You wonder how Antonio or Joseph have not drunk this cellar dry yet… Maybe more manor magic nonsense.

Thin arms wrapping around your chest, a cheek rubbing on yours, and you already know he is bending over to be at your height to hug you from behind like this. His lips kiss behind your ear down to your neck causing the lovely sound of soft giggles.

You did not panic or jump because you heard this approaching the second the cellar door opened.

“Oh, so you want that sort of birthday gift?” Your hand reaches up to touch his other cheek as you turn your head slightly to kiss the corner of his lips.

“Hmm,” A chuckle from the taller man, “Was I misreading your words, (Name)?” Fingers lifting slowly the tucked-in shirt you are wearing.

“Not at all! I have a batch left of the— Haha, I'm joking!” Laughing as those thin long fingers started tickling your sides, “Mercy, haha!” Grabbing his wrists as he does not relent in toying with you. You squirm in his arms as you laugh more and louder the higher his hand goes up underneath your shirt. The sharp inhale of air, his and your body bent slightly forward, and your chest moving up and down from laughing and the lack of air.

You are quick to turn around in his arms, hands holding his face as your lips meet his, the tendrils of his hair keeping you both from falling forward. Antonio meets the kiss tenfold as one hand is on your lower back and the other on your thigh, you lift it as you invite him to place his leg between your legs. The wall is made of brick and you are going to feel the scraps from it later; later being so far away as you grind against the Violinist who is enjoying his birthday gift.

“You are overdressed.”

“And you should compliment my overdressed state. New suit.”

“Very lovely suit,” Unbuttoning your vest, “However, it would look more appealing on the floor.” Fortunately, the vest only has two buttons and the dress shirt is going to be torn open because unfortunately, the buttons are too many and too small for his patience.

“Then you best start unwrapping me, maestro.” Wrapping your arms around his neck, “Leave the ribbon.” There is a ribbon wrapped around your neck, bright purple, hard to miss.

“Of course.” Because every gift needs a ribbon announcing its importance.

The many times they have had their between the sheets, in secluded places during matches, and a few times playing footsies under the table while having dinner during autumn festival, it never ceases to lose the charm between them. The fun they have, the way for a moment they forget about the horrors of this place (and the devil within Antonio), they are just two men in love.

In love, celebrating a birthday in the wine cellar and soon to have no clothes on.

#idv #reader insert #identity v x reader #idv x reader #identity v #identity v x you #idv x you #violinist x reader #idv violinist #identity v violinist #violinist x you #antonio paganini #antonio x reader #antonio x you #idv antonio

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