(lmao let's try this again)
SO! I haven't been able to draw lately because orchestra work over the past few months crunched me up and threw me in a corner, but I did finally manage to finish THIS project of mine which has been in the works for literally half a year. Please enjoy my arrangement of Neuvillette's theme for 6 cellos, performed by myself!
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OK HEAR ME OUT.... slightly older reader (AN OBVIOUSLY LEGAL AGE GAP!!!!) who is Anton's music tutor and she feels so uncomfortable with him because he is a slight incel so he's always staring at her blankly in like a mean way or with pure rage because he's perfect at music so why must she teach him anything? But his parents spoil him and just want the best for him so he goes along with it but subtly gives reader hints that he hates her. The looks of hate, the curtness, he's naturally quiet but even more quiet with her, etc etc. But at the same time he likes her as much as he hates her. And that makes him hate her even more.
Then one day he forces himself on her to "get it out of his system." because he's a loser and he has never dated or had sex or been with a woman. But the one time is obviously not enough. He fucks her multiple times that day and then the day after and so on. He never lets her go.
moved to: @riizeblr
rating: 18+. mdni.
content: noncon, anton x reader
anton had to do it. a primal need to fuck you flowing through his veins from the second he saw you. weeks and weeks of pointless lessons only strengthening it. you were teaching him nothing, as he suspected from the beginning. he knew it all but you still sat there, going on and on about things anton already knew, leaving him with nothing better to do than look at you.
he didn’t enjoy it at first. he was uncomfortable by the smile that never left, the eyes that never wavered even under his blank gaze of clear distaste. it made him think that you must really need the money.
the realization made anton’s mind finally wander to places it didn’t allow itself before. there was only one thing you could teach him. one thing you would really useful for. his parents paid you generously, much more than you deserved for pointless lessons.
so why couldn’t he get his moneys worth? what else were they paying you for anyway?
you weren’t happy about the idea, only making anton feel annoyed. you were in no position to complain, to push at him and claw at his nicely pressed shirt, to squirm and reach for whatever was around you. to your dismay, it wasn’t much work for anton, leaving you shocked and crying pathetically when he twisted your wrists. it made him think of the time you raised your eyebrows when his mother mentioned that he was working hard at the gym. of course you would question it. there was no way some boy like anton could be anything less than that. a boy.
despite that, the experience was unfortunately euphoric. he couldn’t get enough. the feeling of being sucked into your tight, hot walls making the air leave his lungs. the way you milked him dry by the end of the night, leaving him shuddering and lightheaded.
it made sense that one time just wasn’t enough.
you had still come back, not a minute late to your scheduled meeting. but you avoided his stare, mumbling instructions as you took out a pen. anton didn’t do as told, instead letting his hand slither up your skirt, watching the way your eyes widened in alarm.
your eyes flashed as you shook your head, lightly pressing your hand on his. anton would have been impressed if it wasn’t you, the scratchy texture of your fingertips were just like his after years and years of meticulous practice.
he wasted no time, bulge swelling as soon as the resistance began, craving swimming downwards. you were smart enough to know what he wanted, but not smart enough to just let it be. you struggled against him again, causing anton’s eyes to roll.
his soft voice made you shiver as he spoke, “what’re you fighting me for? I’m making your lessons worth the money.”
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Natasha: Alright, have either of you played an instrument before?
Yelena: Do instruments of torture count?
Natasha: No, they do not.
Kate: I can play the cello.
Natasha: Alright. You’re dismissed, Yelena. I just need Kate for this.
Yelena, sharpening her knife: (gasps) That's unfair. Look at all these knives.
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I thought about the idea of Gren and Amaya being mentors for Corvus on the breach and now it’s consuming me btw
Imagine if you will. Fourteen year old Corvus. Commoner kid taken in to a shady military cadet training program. He’s passed off as older and sent to the Breach to work under Gren. Gren is like woah this kid is definitely not seventeen. And Amaya absolutely destroys the program head for it but can’t send Corvus back to the program, so the breach just sort of like. Adopts him and he does odd jobs.
Either he learns to play cello there from one of the soldiers in his free time, or he already knew a little bit and he gets practice playing when the soldiers have small parties to keep spirits up. He doesn’t talk much but he’s fond of the Breach.
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