#erik fluff

[potol0ver]

Hello! I've really enjoyed your hcs and requests for Erik and I was wondering, could you write one for Erik with a partner who is an artist that views him as a muse? Drawing his masked face and doodling his hands and figure silently all the time even if they don't tell him they find him beautiful outright, it's obvious in their secret artwork

Yessss this is adorable i love this

Tags; GN reader, artist reader, Drabble (I still don’t know if I’m using that word right-)

Even before you and Erik got together, Erik knew about YOURE artistic skills. Always watching you from the shadows as you worked on your next masterpiece. No matter how “bad” or unfinished the project was, he adored it like it belonged in the museum. The older works that you forgot about he stole and put up in his home deep under the Opera house, he couldn’t help it, he needed to be surrounded by your brilliants.

After you two starting talking and interacting with each other he noticed how your works became a little more moody, or take more inspiration from the Opera house itself more. Erik entertained the idea that you’re doing that because it reminds you of him, but he snaps himself out of it thinking that he’s just showing you more of the Opera, of course you’re inspired. It’s not because of him.

Overtime the two of you became an inseparable pair, you can continue to work on your art in his home as well as he can work with you in there to, if anything it’s boosting both of your work ethics. Erik sitting at his piano and you sitting nearby with your sketch book in hand, how can it get any better than this? Perfectly domestic and calm as you two worked on your art. If only he knew, just like he’s writing songs about you, that you’re drawing him as your muse.

Sitting in your lounge chair off to the side of his piano room, you sat sketching him with a charcoal pencil. Slowly but surely capturing his appearance with small strokes and the occasional intentional smudge of the charcoal on the page for definition. You couldn’t help but have a small smile as you take a look at the page, you capture him perfectly in your eyes. His mask, his hair, even the disgruntled look of him as he focuses on his music, leaning over his piano.

Truth be told this isn’t the first time you’ve done this. You’ve say many times in this chair sketching him, let it be just his face, or maybe some anatomy practice where you focused on how he held his body. Like all artists hands were the bane of your existence, but you couldn’t help but try and tackle that subject to immortalize his, whether they’re in his leather gloves or bare, they were always intriguing.

Erik was always a muse to you, even before you ever saw him and only heard his voice. Those drawings of the opera house you did were made to try and capture him. They were always the places and moods that you felt like captured his unique aura and voice. The day you finally saw him even in the shadows you couldn’t help but try your best to get it on paper. Truth is you’re as infatuated with him as he is with you, but he’d never guess that.

Now that you’re spending most days with him, it’s hard to hide the fact you’re drawing him. As odd as it sounds you just didn’t want to be seen as a creep for it. Your sketch book quickly filling up with all the sketches you’ve done of him, and you still don’t feel confident enough to show him one. Maybe, in time when you create a masterpiece as him as your muse will you finally show him, but until then, he’ll continue to be your secret muse.

#erik destler #erik poto #phantom of the opera #erik destler x reader #phantom of the opera x reader #phantom x reader #the phantom of the opera x reader #the phantom of the opera #phantom of the opera fluff #erik deslter x reader #erik destler fluff #erik fluff

[imyourbratzdoll]

Hey I was reading your X-men posts and I just had an idea and if it is possible for you can you write about reader was with Bucky or Steve or both (your choice) but they break her heart and she finds love again with Charles Xavier (James McAvoy) or Eric Lehnsherr (Michael Fassbender) or both (again your choice) and protect her from Steve/Bucky 😅❤️

hi honey! thank you for requesting this, I hope you like what I've written!

summary - love can be deceiving especially with the wrong person, but it's so much more when it's with the right person.

warning - cheating? angst, word whore is used, insecurities, small violence.

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips (deactivated)

Bucky Barnes had been your light since the day The Avengers found you. He had been the one to comfort you when the nightmares would become too much, the one to love you like you’ve never been loved before. So why did it feel like your heart was being ripped out of your chest as you heard him talking to his friends. Why did it feel like the opposite of love?

“I’m so sick of Y/n being attached to me all of the time! And does she really think I love her?! Has she seen herself lately? She’s no Nat or Sharon. She’s just her, plain.” Bucky groans, rolling his eyes and taking a sip of his beer. “Oh, did I tell you that I hooked up with a smoking hot babe last night?” He smirks. “Man could she bend.”

You suck in a breath quietly, not wanting to be heard and also struggling to hold back your pain. You walk back to your room, quickly packing your things and disappearing into the night. You knew it was too good to be true, not once in your life had anything ever turned out good. You always seemed to end up with the short end of the stick. You had nowhere to go, a bag in your hand and the moon shining down on you. You felt stupid, you should’ve stayed, found a place before you left. 

You decided to walk a few blocks, taking a random train, wanting to distance yourself. You had turned your phone off and threw it away at the first sight of Bucky calling you. You couldn’t turn back now, too busy with your head down, looking at the ground you manage to bump into someone. Your bag falling from your hands, hitting the floor with a thump. “I–I’m so sorry!” You go to kneel but stop when you notice your bag floating in the air. 

“It’s not safe for a pretty girl to be out this late. You don’t know who you might end up bumping into.” You blink, your eyes connecting with blue. The random man hums, “Ah, Y/n L/n. What are you doing so far from home? Don’t you know you have many people looking for you? Some good, some bad.” 

You shrug, “I don’t care…” You wipe your cheeks, ensuring there are no tear marks on them. “Who are you?” 

The unknown man stares, face like stone. Reminding you so much of the man you just left. “And here I thought I made a reputation for myself.” He studies you, “Erik Lehnsherr, but I also go by Magneto.” 

You nod. “It’s nice to meet you. If you excuse me, I have somewhere to be…” You lie, you recognise the name, you knew of the people he used to hang around before he fully embraced his dark side. You couldn’t have him handing you back out of spite, you didn’t want to go back. Not after what you heard. 

Erik’s hand flies out, gripping your arm softly. “No, you don’t. But I’m not a total monster, I won’t let a pretty girl like you stay out on the streets all night. God knows what will happen.” He begins to pull you along, ignoring your protests. “Be quiet, don’t make me regret being kind.” 

Your mouth falls open as you stand in front of the X-Mansion, beginning to feel uncomfortable as you realise these people may judge you. You weren’t a mutant, you were a freak, an unloved freak. “I–I can’t stay here!”

“Why not?” Erik looks down at you, “Oh, are you one of those vampires that need inviting in?”

You look up at him with your head tilted, “Huh? What… No. I just, these people are… and I’m me… Plain…” You begin to play with your fingers.

“Hmm, whoever said that should get their eyes checked. Now come. I’m sure Charles is awaiting our arrival.” Instead of dragging you by the arm, he moves his hand and opens it, waiting for you to slip yours into his. 

Months had passed since you had bumped into Erik, Charles had accepted you into their family, proving to you that you were one of them. Erik had come and gone many of times since he had taken you here, and each time you began to dread when he had to leave again. Your relationship with him was okay, it had begun quite stiff and slowly blossomed into a friendship, the only issue is you fell for him. But you knew you weren’t good enough for a man like Erik, Bucky had proved that. 

Today you were excited though, Erik was coming back, and you had decided to wear your favourite dress, remembering the first time you had worn it, and he couldn’t stop staring at it. Deep down your insecurities were saying it’s because he hated the dress and was wondering how someone like you could ruin a pretty piece of clothing by wearing it, but another part of you had hoped it was the opposite, that he liked your dress.

You walk out of your room, smoothing out your dress as you begin to head to the door where you hear voices. A smile forms on your face, ready to see Erik again. You enter the room and your smile falls, he had finally found you. You didn’t want to face him, he was the reason you didn’t think you were good enough anymore. 

‘Y/n, I don’t want you to think I invited him, I tried to stop him, but I cannot do much unless I control someone’s mind and you understand why I didn’t, right?’ Charles speaks into your mind, your eyes connect with his and you nod.

“This is where you’ve been this whole time?! Do you know how worried we were?! How could you be so stupid!!” Bucky growls, moving closer. It’s as though you up and leaving him had struck a nerve, but you don’t know why, he didn’t love you like you did him. 

You hated yourself in this moment, you wanted to stand up for yourself and show him that his words didn’t hurt, but everything was coming back, and you couldn’t move or speak. “I–I…” 

“Take one step closer to her and I’ll shove that arm of yours down your throat.” A voice speaks from behind you, Erik steps out from the shadows, moving closer to you. His hand rests on your lower back, calming you down when you didn’t even know you needed to be calm. 

Bucky spins his arm, glaring. “Who are you?” His eyes fall to where Erik’s hand rests before he looks at you. “Is this why you ran off? Because you’re a whore?” Bucky steps forward, ignoring Erik’s warning causing Bucky to let out a cry of pain as his arm begins to get crushed.

“I warned you to not step closer to her. Yet you ignored that and insulted her.” He moves in front of you, pulling you to stay behind him. “Charles may have not wanted to control your mind because he’s a good guy, but I’m not.” With a flick of his hand, Bucky rises and gets thrown through the door. Erik stalks forward and glares at him. “If you ever come near Y/n again, I will kill you.” He makes sure to watch Bucky leave before he turns and walks toward you before you can even open your mouth to thank him, he grips the sides of your face and pulls you in, bringing you into a passionate kiss. 

Was this what love felt like?

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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[willows-escape]

Symbolic - 1990!Erik x Reader - Part 1

Pairing - Erik (1990! Charles Dance) x (Female) Reader

Summary - the topic of the mask was the last obstacle in your blossoming relationship, and you were desperate to cross the barrier and become fully intertwined with the man you loved and claimed he loved you too.

Warnings - erik’s deformity is a mix of the deformity we see erik have as a child in the 1990 version and the musical, phantom having a small breakdown, the ✨mask✨topic, poorly dealt with feelings, miscommunication, suggestive moments and reference to genitalia and arousal, descriptions of a gory facial disfigurement, intense self hatred, mentions of christine but she’s long gone in this

Word Count - 4,770

Notes - there will be a part 2 i gotchu i gotchu. should part 2 be smutty or also just suggestive? also i tried writing this in a victorian-esque tone but if you arent vibing with that let me know and i’ll switch it up for part 2. i just thought it would be a nice touch.

give me feedback !!! pleasee !!!!

01 (you're here!) / 02

The nearby sound of trickling water gracefully blended into the ambiance of your surroundings; the towering trees above you resembled a verdant canopy. The quilt beneath you protected your body from the prickly blades of grass and artificial soil, offering a comfortable spot to recline with your hair spread out beneath you, shimmering in the artificial light.

You laid supine, hands elevated above you to cradle a book you had recently begun reading. The words captivated your attention, submerging you in a realm of fantasy and euphoria. Reading was your preferred means of escaping reality, a release you frequently yearned for when the burdens of the world weighed on your shoulders. It all faded away when you became engrossed in the pages of a book.

Regrettably, you were not the only person who was aware of your coping mechanisms. The situation was quite an affair, so you wouldn’t delve too deeply into the small details, but the love of your life had at long last informed you of his reciprocal affection for you. It felt magical and otherworldly to hear that sweet confession escape his enthralling lips, his eyes penetrating into the depths of your soul as his hands tenderly grasped your waist. You had witnessed the words that you only ever seemed to hear in your dreams.

So what had left you so apprehensive?

Well, the man you spoke so highly about, Erik, did not seem to return those high opinions for you. There was a part of himself he laboured ceaselessly to conceal from you, a mask that symbolically and literally kept up a barrier between your world and his world to prevent them from intertwining. You’d exchanged tender sentiments, cried tears of anguish and passion the night you’d finally confessed. You clung to each other as if your lives depended on it and subjected each other to a night of basking in vulnerability and fragility as your secrets long harboured tumbled past your tongue before you could restrain them. The morning after was no less exquisite and that of a fairy tale romance, but the barrier remained.

That mask he wore, pale and icy to the touch, silently spoke of his distrust for you. The final puzzle piece that he adamantly refused to fit into place, even for the sake of your love. Oh, it was a cruel predicament indeed! All you desired was to behold the appearance of the man you held dear, but he swore by the highest heavens that his visage would send you fleeing, and that was the last outcome he desired. To some extent, you understood his apprehension, having heard him recount tales of how numerous individuals he had cared for and adored had reacted abhorrently upon the unveiling of his face. But how could he expect the two of you to spend the remainder of your lives together without even a glimpse of his unadorned skin?

You weren't expecting Prince Charming, and while you weren't entirely convinced by his claims of him having a face of nightmares, you did trust that he might not be conventionally attractive. After all, you had never seen him. Besides his gentlemanly actions and his physique that seemed as if it had been crafted by a divine being, you weren't going to assume that he was the most handsome man in the world. You would love him nonetheless. But no matter how greatly you persisted and promised him you wouldn’t leave despite what he looked like, he truly did not believe a word you said. And it hurt.

“A new book, dear?”

You glanced upward, granting the subject of your grovelling a tight lipped smile as you hastily flicked your attention back to the words on the page. No anger dwelled within you, just painful disappointment, and the ache in your heart made it hard to bare the sight of him. “Of course. It’s Jane Eyre.”

He hummed in acknowledgment, his walking cane planted firmly into the ground below. You internally winced as the silence rang loud in the air. You were not seeking to upset your lover, but also somehow desiring to communicate that you weren't entirely pleased at the moment. It appeared that the message had travelled clear, but the upset was unavoidable.

A moment more passed before he spoke, “I feel a chill coming on. Seems as though it’s about to rain, don’t you think? Come, let’s retreat inside before it starts to pour.”

You arched a suspicious eyebrow, fingers still tightly clasped around the novel you held. If the plastic animals scattered around that Erik had stolen from the props department said anything, everything in this quaint woodsy area was unquestionably fake. From the dirt to the grass to the trees, the animals and the sky. It went without saying there would be no rainfall. This meant he wanted to discuss things with you without the distraction of your nose being buried within the pages of a book. And you weren’t entirely sure how to feel about it.

“And why should I do that?” you questioned, paying him no eye contact as you pretended to continue to read.

“You wouldn’t want your clothing to get wet, would you? I won’t be visiting the laundry room of the opera house for another week, hence it would be wise to avoid sullying a valuable item of clothing,” he reasoned, knowing fully well that he’d drop whatever he was currently doing to run and fulfil any request you asked of him, never mind visiting the damn laundry room.

You parted your lips, ready to jestingly remark about how there would indeed be no rainfall. Yet, in that very moment, a peculiar sensation graced your senses. A solitary droplet of water descended upon your nose, its touch cold and trailing a path of dampness as it glided down your nasal bridge. A gasp escaped your lips as more droplets descended, their frequency increasing with each passing moment. In a hastened flurry, you stood upright, clasping your cherished book to your bosom. You abandoned the forgotten quilt as you sprinted through the doors adorned with stained glass, leading you back to Erik's modest dwelling. He followed closely, not far behind your hurried steps.

You’d have to speak to him about putting up a gazebo. To block out the sun, you’d tell him.

“Guess you were right,” you half-heartedly chuckled, absentmindedly tossing the book onto a table to the side of you.

You found yourself in Erik’s room of treasures, where he stored and cherished his most esteemed items, namely his collection of masks and his grand piano. The ambiance within was of a tranquil and serene nature, causing your anger to gradually dissipate. Yet, the sorrow and anguish still lingered within you.

"Forgive me, have I down something to displease you?" Erik questioned, his steps measured and deliberate as if he were trying not to startle you, akin to approaching a timid creature. With utmost gentleness, he lightly laid his hand upon your shoulder, allowing it to glide downward, tracing the contour of your arm.

"Erik…" you whispered, tearing your eyes away from him. Your heart faltered, your breath catching in your throat as his fingertips delicately brushed against your skin. A fire simmered in your core, your veins rushing with hot blood as the touch of his hand engulfed you, overwhelming your senses with a fervour. “I… do not wish to upset you.”

“The only upset you cause me is by not being honest with your feelings,” he replied, hand reaching up to gently trace the skin of your cheek. Your eyes felt weak, gently fluttering shut as you indulged yourself in his affections. “Please, tell me what is troubling you.”

You paused for a moment, allowing yourself to succumb to his touch for a little while longer. The words settled on the tip of your tongue, ready to escape you and take a leap of faith from your mouth to his waiting ears, but you’d already approached this subject with him before and did not wish to push him to frustration or sorrow.

“I just…” you paused, “One day, Erik, do you wish for us to be husband and wife?”

His eyes widened, mouth agape in shock at your blunt statement. He stammered in surprise, removing his hand from your cheek slowly. He drew in a deep breath before answering, “There is nothing I desire more than to be wedded to you. Where is this coming from? Are you feeling as though our relationship is moving too slow? I just didn’t want to frighten you by pushing for more. Why, I’ll marry you tomorrow-”

“Erik, Erik,” you laughed, hand coming up to cup his cheek with your own hand as he was doing to you seconds ago, “I didn’t mean it like that, though I’ll marry you the second you ask it of me. Maybe not tomorrow, however.”

“Ah,” his nerves tingled, goosebumps rising on his skin at the electricity of your touch. He cleared his throat before continuing, “While that is a great relief to me, may I ask as to why you asked that, if not for the reason I previously thought?”

Taking one last final pause, you readied yourself to confess your true want. “I know you’ve said no, and told me to not bring up the subject again… but my love, how can I marry somebody when I have yet to see their face?”

Erik pursed his lips, his eyes shifting down as he began fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves. You felt dreadful witnessing the unease that the inquiry evoked in him, understanding that it inevitably resurrected distressing memories he longed to forget. Nevertheless, no advancement could transpire between the two of you in your relationship until he allowed you to see his face. You refused to be bound to someone who concealed such an essential aspect of himself, even if you knew the intentions to be entirely pure.

“I can’t do that,” Erik shook his head, walking away from you and moving towards his basket of walking canes. He placed his current one back with the bunch, before busying himself with rearranging his mask collection. He didn’t want to stray too far from you, but also wanted you to drop the subject.

You quietly tip toed behind him, enveloping him in your arms as you wrapped them around his waist and placed your head on his broad shoulder. You audibly heard his breathing pause, feeling him shiver as he relished in your touch. But nevertheless, he pushed on with rearranging his collection, although he wasn’t moving side to side around the table as he was doing previously.

“But why?” you asked.

“You know why, my face is that of nightmares. And I’ve hurt too many by showing them what they believed they could handle. My expectations are realistic.”

“You could never hurt me!” You insisted, your emotions getting the best of you as you retreated from him. He hunched over slightly, hands resting upon the clear spot of table in front of him to steady himself. His head twitched to the side as he bit his bottom lip in thought.

“Dear, I know you think that I exaggerate when I speak of my face, but I can assure you that I do not lie out of simple insecurity. My own father hid me down here due to my appearance, that must speak volumes,” he sighed, coming up once again to stand straight. “Now please, do not ask again.”

“So when I inevitably return to wallowing in my own feelings and escaping to the woods for hours at a time again, will you tell me to not ask again when you approach the subject of my feelings once more?” you tried to reason, desperately wanting him to view the situation from your point of view.

He didn’t respond for a little while, evidently pondering your words that he knew deep down held some veracity. The matter of the mask was evidently causing you distress, and he couldn't fathom any solution that would alleviate your concerns. But alas, he simply couldn't bring himself to do so.

“I’m sorry, my answer’s no.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, shimmering with unspoken pain and longing. Your vision blurred as a single tear cascaded down your cheek, tracing a path of sorrow. Your body trembled with silent sobs, your shoulders shook as you struggled to hold back the flood of emotions that threatened to consume you. The ache in your heart grew stronger, as if each tear shed was a testament to the love and vulnerability you had offered, only to be met with rejection.

“My dear, please, don’t cry over me,” his arms swiftly enfolded you in an embrace, his own frame quivering with an inability to endure the sight of your tears. With a resolute tenderness, he pressed his chilled lips upon your forehead, bestowing a gentle kiss as he cradled your head against his chest. In a steady rhythm, he swayed, seeking to soothe your anguish and stifle the heart breaking sounds that escaped your lips.

“How can I not?” you wept, fingers shaking from how firmly you were clinging onto his white button up shirt. You were grabbing on to him so tight you feared your nails would pierce holes in the delicate fabric, but you couldn’t bring yourself to relinquish your grip no matter how much you internally fought with yourself. Nothing you were doing seemed to be venting your frustrations adequately, leaving you at a loss for how to cope. "My love, the very essence of my existence, the one who breathes life into me, steadfastly refuses to show me his face."

“You must understand- I feel for you exactly as you describe your feelings for me, if not tenfold. That’s why I can’t show you. I’m protecting you just as much I want to protect myself,” he confessed, eyes squeezing shut as his swaying slowed to a stop. His grip was becoming tighter and tighter.

“I know life has dealt you an unfair hand, Erik, I’ve heard your cries and witnessed your heartbreak. I was there for you all throughout Christine, I was there to see your regret and misery as she left you behind. I did not leave your side for a second. I know the great despair and trauma her reaction to your face cast upon you, but please believe not a hair on my head resembles Christine. I will not hurt you the same.”

Erik held you a little longer, his embrace becoming even more so impossibly tighter. He wasn’t urgent to reply, instead allowing himself to bask in your love for as long as he could manage. Your sweet love was an addiction, an ambrosia he craved every single waking hour. But even then you lived in his dreams, your angelic presence blessing him wherever he went or whatever state he was in.

“I love you, Erik,” you spoke, looking upwards towards him as he began to tilt his head to share your unwavering gaze.

“I love you too,” he said.

“So show me,” you whispered, eyes glistening with tears and lips downturned into a subtle frown.

You took one last look into his eyes, before pushing yourself forward and up. Your lips met in a fervent union, a culmination of the deepest desires and longings that had long been brewing between you both. It was a kiss imbued with a delicate tenderness and an irresistible urgency, your mouths moving in perfect harmony. Each brush of his lips sent electric waves coursing through your body, igniting a blazing fire within your soul. In that timeless moment, you and him surrendered yourselves completely, losing all sense of time and space. It was a kiss that spoke volumes, a silent pledge of profound love and unwavering devotion.

As you reluctantly broke the intimate connection, succumbing to the need for a breath of air, your gaze met his half-lidded eyes. His lips were swollen, and his tongue darted out to moisten his bottom lip as he inhaled deeply. A blush crept across your cheeks as you attempted to conceal the rapid beating of your heart, finally becoming aware of his hands that had gradually ventured downward, tenderly tracing the curves of your waist.

He silently took a moment to recover, savouring the lingering taste of your kiss. It was unlike any other you had shared before - no longer innocent and brief, but a passionate embrace that ignited a fire within you. As your lips met, it felt as if the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you in a moment of pure bliss. The intensity of your connection was palpable, like a match being scraped against a stone, creating small sparks that danced and flickered between your bodies. It was a kiss that left you both breathless, your hearts racing with newfound desire and a longing for more.

“If you really insist on seeing my face, come with me to your room. I do not wish to make you feel cornered, but if you are to faint I wish for you to not bring yourself harm.”

You nodded eagerly, your heart pounding with a mix of excitement and anticipation. The kiss you shared made every colour appear more vibrant and the air feel lighter, filling every fibre of your being with pure bliss. As you followed him, each step felt buoyant, as if you were walking on air.

It didn’t take long for you to reach your room. Erik was very against you two sharing a bedroom, stating that he did not wish to make you uncomfortable or feel trapped next to him, when the reality couldn’t be farther from that. But you feared that he might’ve just been projecting, that he was the one who felt uncomfortable and trapped with the idea of you two sharing a room, so you’d left the topic alone for another day. That day still hasn’t arrived.

Erik took a hold of your hand, gently pulling you in and shutting the door behind you. He shook slightly, so lightly that you almost thought your eyes were deceiving you. “Are you sure about this, y/n?”

“More sure than I’ve ever been about anything, besides how much I love you,” you giggled.

“I… will not keep you down here, if you decide you never want to see me again. I’ve learnt my lessons, do not fear you reaching the same fate Christine did when she reacted negatively.”

You wanted to protest his words, state that you feeling negatively towards him was inconceivable and never going to happen. You also wanted to tell him to stop mentioning Christine, just the utterance of her name made you scowl. But you didn’t want to argue at a time like this, so you just nodded your head.

“Before I take this awful thing off… that kiss was everything I’ve ever wanted and more. If after this you no longer love me, please know that your display of love made me feel like a normal, living man, and that I’m doing this because I know I can die happy after the fact, if you were to leave.”

“I’m honoured to be able to make you feel that way, my love.”

He hesitantly extended his hand towards the strings that secured his mask to his head, skillfully undoing the knot he had carefully tied. As he prepared to remove the mask, he couldn't help but steal a final wistful glance at you, savoring the moment before gradually peeling it away from his skin, gripping the edges tightly with his other hand. The air seemed to hold its breath as the mask revealed the vulnerable visage beneath, unveiling a hidden side that had long been concealed.

His face was a grotesque sight, something that defied accurate description. The skin was cruelly stripped away, revealing the raw and twisted muscles beneath. It was a horrifying visage, and it made your heart ache. He was deformed, disfigured; the only parts of his face that were covered in flesh were swollen and bright red, contrasting the pale whiteness of his bone. You tried your best to swallow the gasp that was pushing past your throat, but you were human.

You were sure you could hear the sound of his heart shattering, but you were so shocked you could only watch as he crumbled to his knees before you. His screams and cries made you nauseous, his repeated wails of, ‘why!? why!? why!?’ as he grabbed onto the hem of your skirt, hiding his face in the fabric in his suffering. You snapped back into reality, falling to your knees in front of him.

“Erik, no, please-”

“Go, please. Leave me.”

“No, please, hear me out. I don’t hate you-”

“This is hardly a face you’d want to marry!” he protested, burying his face deeper into the fabric of your skirt, resisting as you tried to pull it away. “You may not hate me, but you’re scared! Is this the face of a man you could wake up next to, spend the rest of your love with, make love to at night before we sleep? Please just go!”

“No!” you cried, relenting on your attempts to tear his desperate self away from your skirt. You wrapped your arms around him, this time cradling him against your bosom as you rocked back and forth. You felt the tension slowly dissipate from his form. “I do not hate you and I am not scared of you! I want to do all those things with you, Erik, please I swear!”

His quiet sobs continued to echo through the air, his scared body shaking erratically. With utmost tenderness, you cradled his quivering form in your arms, holding him close and providing a safe haven for his shattered heart. Gently, you brushed your fingers through his hair, whispering words of love and reassurance into his ear. Your touch and soothing voice offered him comfort and solace, doing your best to remind him that your love extended far beyond mere physical appearances.

In that moment, as he sought refuge in your embrace, you felt an overwhelming surge of love and compassion for this broken man before you. Despite the mask he wore, both symbolically and literally, you saw the depth of his pain and the vulnerability he rarely allowed others to witness. Your heart ached for him, yearning to heal the wounds that had haunted him for far too long.

"You are more than your face, Erik," you whispered softly, your voice filled with unwavering affection. "Your heart, your soul, and the love we share transcends any physical imperfections. I love you for who you are, please believe that."

As his sobs gradually subsided, he looked up at you with tear-filled eyes, searching for a glimmer of hope and acceptance. In that moment, you saw a spark of belief flicker within him, a tiny beacon of light amidst the darkness that had consumed him for so long.

"I… I want to believe you," he choked out, his voice trembling with both fear and longing. "But all my life people have only said different. How can they when I don’t have a face, and only the resemblance of a face?”

You held his face gently in your hands, your touch conveying a tenderness that words alone could not express. "I understand. I’m sorry for reacting like that, please forgive me. I love you regardless of your face, it was just unlike anything I’d ever seen before. That’s all. I feel no differently for you than how I felt before you removed the mask.”

He hesitantly inclined towards your touch, his eyes seeking yours for reassurance and acquiescence. He quivered as a vehement cry escaped his lips once more, bedewing your bodice in his tears. Yet, you cared not the slightest, more preoccupied with consoling the poor man trembling before you.

You both sat together on the floor of your bedroom for an indeterminate span of time, but to you it felt like hours. You cradled him like a mother would her infant, tenderly caressing and comforting him with gentle touches and whispered reassurances. You hadn’t seen Erik shed tears since the evening of your confession, and you could only surmise that all the trepidation and unease had finally reached a breaking point and crumbled along with his composure. It deeply saddened you to know the man you loved so intensely hated himself and had been hated so harshly by those around him. You vowed to never cause him pain like everybody else had as long as you both lived.

Eventually, he withdrew from you, gracefully settling on his knees, his hands still shielding his face from your view, protecting his vulnerability. He wiped away the glistening tears that adorned his cheeks, his other hand instinctively seeking to conceal himself from your gaze. A pensive frown graced your mouth as you hesitantly reached upward, your fingers yearning to grasp his trembling hands, only to recoil as he instinctively recoiled in response to your advance.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ve seen it all now, haven’t I?” you hushed, hands dropping from his hands but instead reaching up to smooth back his hair with your fingers.

He sniffled quietly, “Forgive me, I did not intend on frightening you. I am simply unused to showing my bare face around others, it’s unfamiliar.”

“Of course, I understand, love,” you smiled, gently trailing your hand down the side of his face. Goosebumps littered his skin like a trail.

You moved closer to him, your heart racing with anticipation. You kept one hand on his face, basking in the warmth of his skin that didn't have any disfigurement. Your other hand gently draped over his shoulder as you approached, your fingers delicately tracing the contours of his back. He quivered beneath your touch, his legs extending out from under him to create a space for you to come impossibly closer. As you lowered yourself onto his lap, a surge of electricity coursed through your veins. His breath, warm and intoxicating, caressed your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His hands trembled with uncertainty, itching to remove themselves from his face to come down and touch you instead. You chuckled.

“You can hold me.”

His breath caught in his throat, his mind filled with a whirlwind of desires as he absorbed the words that flowed from your enchanting lips. You couldn't help but chuckle softly, savouring the profound effect you had on the man beneath you.

“I’d like to put on my mask, dear,” Erik finally spoke, “As much as I love having you so close, I’m not ready to show myself to you so unashamedly yet.”

With a nod of your head, you stepped back, allowing him the space he needed to shroud his face from view. Though you comprehended the internal struggle he faced after years of hiding, a bittersweet pang of sadness tugged at the depths of your heart. The poignant reality that he still felt the need to shield himself wounded you deeply. But you tried to keep reminding yourself that it wasn’t personal.

He swiftly and efficiently retied the strings, maintaining his determination, as he stood up following you. You leaned in and planted a brief but meaningful kiss on his lips, savoring the moment before reluctantly breaking away. With a mix of emotions swirling inside, you diverted your attention, attempting to shift your focus away from the recent event that had transpired.

“I’ll be out dusting the statues, you haven’t kept up with them in a while and I’d noticed them on the way in and I think they could really use a clean. I’ll speak to you later.” You quickly retreated from the room without even sparing a second glance.

Erik stood there, mouth agape, unable to comprehend the suddenness of your departure. His mind was flooded with a multitude of questions, doubts, and confusion, hindering his ability to think clearly. As he glanced around the room, an overwhelming sense of awe washed over him, as he tried to process the intensity of the moment and the speed at which you had vanished from his presence. Meanwhile, his body felt an uncomfortable strain, as his arousal pressed insistently against the constricting fabric of his trousers, adding yet another layer of complexity to his already tumultuous thoughts.

You were no less aroused, the tingling sensation in your nether regions proving that you had been mutually affected by your lover. Oh lord, this was going to cause problems.

#phantom of the opera #poto #erik poto #erik the phantom #erik destler #cherik #gerik #gaston leroux #phantom of the opera musical #musical #phantom of the opera x reader #poto x reader #fluff #smut #angst #erik x reader #erik destler x reader #1990 phantom of the opera #2004 phantom of the opera

[xo-bug-ox]

honestly fuck it, Erik Lehnsherr request. Go wild go crazy go “I can fix him” go they fell for him but he fell harder go cottage life Erik go he’s fixed go crazy

Erik Erik Erik Erik Erik

This man and his slutty turtleneck live in my brain rent free I mean I’m not complaining

Raindrops

Erik Lehnsherr x reader

Warnings: none that I’m aware of

A/N: GOD I FUCKING HATE THIS GODFORSAKEN APP also is this slightly self indulgent? Maybe.

Raindrops fell and hit the window you’d positioned yourself in front of, you watched them tapping the pads of your fingers on your thighs to the same pattern as they were hitting the glass a soft smile playing on your lips. You could feel his eyes on the back of your neck making you very aware of Erik’s presence in the room. He was watching you gently rock back and forward eyes flickering up and down to watch the droplets, “Are you having fun over there?” Erik asked, you weren’t sure if he was being sarcastic or not you couldn’t quite tell from his tone. He continued to walk over seemingly stopping close behind you, you nodded ever so gently humming a small, “yeah, it’s nice” still watching it. Erik nodded in response looking from you to the rain. You wanted out. You needed to be in it.

“Is the front door unlocked?” You asked looking up at him. Erik thought for a moment, he looked down at you meeting your gaze. His breath was caught in his throat stumbling out his speech, “I uh, I believe so” he said stepping back. You shot up eyes widening in excitement, he wasn’t quite sure of what you were doing, he assumed you were going to open the door and sit and watch it for a better view. Well, that was until he saw you throw on your raincoat and begin to slip on rain boots, “you’re seriously going out in this?” He asked with a small laugh hoping you were joking. You nodded rather excitedly throwing the door open. The cold breeze ran down your spine before you reached out grabbing his hand and pulling him closer excitement in your voice as you said, “join me! Put on your coat!”

Looking back at him you followed to where his eyes were looking, you hadn’t even realised your hands were still intertwined, was your grip always this strong? Were his hands always this good looking? These thought flooded your mind allowing the both of you to slip out of reality. The two of you were brought back by the lashing rain entering the room and hitting you in the back of the head. Snapping your head towards the door you pulled your hand away from his before running out into the rain. Erik watched you from the door, he watched you spin, he watched you laugh and wipe of the rain that was collecting by your nose and god you looked perfect while doing it. “C’mon!” You laughed calling to him. Erik took a deep breath before leaving the door. Jesus it was freezing out there, he hugged himself for warmth. He could put up with it if it meant seeing you smile.

“Are you crazy?! Go put a coat on!” You laugh gently shoving him. Erik smiled, “If I go back in I’m not coming back out darling” he smiled, your face flushed. Darling. You looked up at him seeing the way his hair stuck down to his face and the way he smiled at you. He looked so perfect like this, “why are you out here?” You asked him wiping the water from your brow, “I don’t really know” he hummed looking around watching the rain hit the puddles. “I could be inside, warm and dry watching you out the window or from the door but I’m out here…in the soaking wet rain without a coat or a care in the world” he smiled taking your hands, “do you want to know a secret?” He asked as he pulled you closer to him. Your heart was pounding in your chest eyes flickering up and down before stuttering a simple, yes, to him. Erik smiled before speaking again, “I’ve always been a ‘kiss me in the rain type of person’…suppose I still am” he hummed looking down at you. Your breath was caught in your throat, “kiss me in the rain will you?”

#erik lehnsherr #x reader #fluff #screaming crying throwing things #asks #fluffy #i love this man #i loaf him #nom nom #magneto x reader #magneto #Erik Lehnsherr x Reader #erik lensherr imagine #magneto x men #Xmen #xmen fanfic #he’s so scrumptious #GOD LOOK AT HIMMM

[ghostsprettymama]

HIS PRINCESS

Headcannons for Erik kilmonger (N’jadaka) in a new series coming due to voting.

Erik loving when you use the Theluji version of Xhosa (the same but its more rich, yet soft and fierce)

WOULD START ARGUEMENTS JUST SO YOU USE YOUR NATIVE TONGUE

He knows xhosa fluently, but pretends to not know it when you confess to him in xhosa.

USING HIS BIRTH NAME !!

it makes him bonkers.

Like. Deadass he loves you addressing him as N'jadaka, using any other name would make him think youre mad at him. you only used that name on him since you were four.

He likes the way it rolls off your tongue, would make you moan it during sex js to make him do what you want

"please Erik i need it please." "use my right name, you what to say baby." "fuck me nice n good N'Jadaka !" n he listens

WEAK SPOTS FOR U

He has a weak spot for when you wear your dresses and formal wear.

likes seeing you all high and mighty, HE LOVES. a woman in control

Making you cry in bed is his turn on, out of bed he gets so soft for you. " dont cry angel, youll get sick. dont let nobody make my Princess cry but me. just let me know who and ill handle it."

his love language?

Okay this man is so confusing

he switches love languages alot

like more then he should.

He would bring,make or buy gifts for you out of love and wouldnt expect anything back. this man will have statues carved for your beauty.

He reclaimed his title as one of the princes of wakanda , which equals to many women being envious, but Erik dresses you nice, then shows you off.

deffinently big on praising and physical intimacy.

for a "scary" guy he LOVES holding your hand or holding you in general, not a love language hes just an ass

EXTRAA

he indeed does sing

an amazing voice too

only sings you to sleep though

Fic : His Princess

#shawtytharula #black reader #mcu shuri #erik killmonger #shuri black panther #tchalla #letita wright #micheal b jordan #erik kilmonger x reader #erik killmonger smut #n'jadaka #black panther fics #black panther smut #mcu smut #mcu fluff #mcu angst #erik kilmonger fic #black reader smut #spotify

[cloudspaintedblue]

Come Rest Your Bones Next To Me, And Toss All Your Thoughts To The Sea

Christine x GN!Reader

Raoul x GN!Reader

The Phantom (Erik) x GN!Reader

(Separately)

What the trio would get you for your anniversary!

Warnings/Notes: I admit I’m a Raoul hater so his part is going to be ass, fair warning

Christine

• Most likely is sneaking away from the Opera House to have an outing with you so don’t expect a super long date if rehearsals are supposed to be going on.

• Something sweet and simple, she knows what it’s like to be.. love bombed.. shall we say so she likes to enjoy the smaller things with you. A picnic as the sun rises or sets, doing each others hair and dressing in extravagant clothing which may or may not be costumes, enjoying sweets and tea somewhere hidden in the opera house so you can be alone (+Erik).

• Singing for you; showing all of her hard work on the newest song she needs to learn, if you are a singer yourself she definitely has a few duets up her sleeve.

• I feel like she’s more of a ‘few meaningful gifts’ kind of person as opposed to spending all of her money on things she doesn’t even know you’ll use.

• If you’ve at any point mentioned something special from your childhood she wants to include that in her gift, maybe she has found a copy of an old favorite book or turned something only you will understand into a necklace; no matter what she will do what she can to bring something you love to life.

• Your favorite flowers, if they aren’t in season she’s had them prepared months before this anniversary. Anything to show you just how much you mean to her.

Raoul

• He’s a fancy rich man, of course he has something planned that makes you feel like royalty.

• Over the top bouquets, expensive meals, a carriage drawn by pure white horses. He goes all out for his lover, everything needs to feel perfect.

• Of course, money can’t get you everything in life. It can however get you that item you’ve seen in shops and adored but don’t have the money for, Raoul is happy to get you this as long as it brings you joy.

• Unlike Christine I feel like he would shower you in gifts, among the pile you would end up with, yes; there would be meaningful and precious gifts but the rest are spoils from his wealth.

• He would try his best to empty his schedule and make all the time in the world for you, if your schedule is the problem he might try a little bribery of your employer to get your being out of work for the day.

• In the end it’s your relationship which is being celebrated, if this means minimal gifts and smaller amounts of time it matters not to him. Well, it matters a little bit. But as long as you remain happy and he feels like he can keep you safe then he will be content.

The Phantom, Erik

• So so freaked out let’s be honest, even making it to a year of being in a relationship has cause for some kind of celebration for him.

• Like Christine he wants to sing with you, even if you don’t sing (unlikely, considering who he is) he wants to show you something that he treasures. He wishes for your praise but is most likely not expecting it.

• The quantity of gifts depends on your preferences, he’s learned that he does tend to come on strong so he doesn’t want to scare you off. If you do like more material displays of affection then he is more than set, he can clearly sew beautifully so if you need new clothes or repairs on old ones he is more than capable. Not to mention the money he gets from the opera house, asking Madame Giry to retrieve the gifts for him so he can stay hidden.

• Writing, of course. Poetry, songs, simply melodies; he has it all, all for you. Music is where he can express himself and really ‘get in the zone’ without fear of judgement. That is until he’s done with the small performance, that’s when he will flush and the anxiety will set in. Praise him too hard too suddenly and he might just burst into tears.

• All in all nothing too extravagant will be happening, all he needs is your love to be happy. His proclamations of love will be given and all he can do is hope that you return them with a smile and kiss on his cheek.

#phantomoftheopera #phantom of the opera #x reader #erik the phantom #erik destler x reader #christine daae #christine daae x reader #raoul de chagny #raoul de chagny x reader #x reader fluff #the phantom x reader #Christine x reader #raoul x reader #phantom of the opera x reader #poto #poto x reader #sfw x reader #sfw

[bewarethewolfarmy]

St. Valentines Day

(THAT'S RIGHT MY BOYS AND GIRLS OF THE FANDOM: I'M BACK!

I just wrote this in the span of an hour and a half just for you, because it's Valentines Day and that means romance. I feel it's not my best work but I tried and I love Erik and I love you and so Happy Valentines Day my songbirds, here's our favorite pathetic man trying his best X3

Also yes i did notice people liked Music so i might be thinking on the sequel to it....)

Erik had never had a Valentine before though of course he was aware of the tradition and no insignificant part of him had not always dreamed of the day he could celebrate the day with someone precious to him. For a long while that someone had been Christine of course but disaster after disaster had rendered that impossible and his own self confidence issues stopped him from ever taking the plunge to even try to ask. He resigned himself then, as he resigned himself in many things, to an lonely unwanted existence and thus did his best to avoid going out even more on that day for the pain of seeing others in love and happy while he was alone and unwanted was far too much.

But then was you. Beautiful, wonderful, kind, loving you.

His heart fluttered with nervousness and uncertainty as he prepared; as with everything with you, he wanted everything perfect, he needed everything perfect. He made a bouquet of only the most perfect roses and had composed for you a love song that though incapable of expressing even a fraction of his bottomless devotion and love for you, he wished to believe could at least let you know he did love you dearly. A romantic dinner for the two of you, always just the two of you, was ready and before going up to the operahouse he made sure to put on his best suit and mask; this was his first Valentines day with you and absolutely nothing could be unseemly or less than beautiful. Well except for maybe himself but he could not change his face and he would simply live with the fact that your valentine this year would be a ghastly ghoul such as him. Still he knew you were kind and warm and loved Erik despite this.

The trip up was never so nervewracking for him and he felt his palms sweat as he went through his secret passages, snuck about the operahouse, listening as he went. Others were plotting for their Valentines day, choosing and sneaking off themselves for rendevouses of their own; some of the men even whispered of asking you, you of all people, and it took all Erik's self control to hold back from killing them. That would ruin your day and he couldn't possibly do that to you, he could never make his sweet songbird sad! But he did glare and silently growl at their audacity, as if they could possibly deserve a chance with someone as wonderous as you. Erik counted himself lucky, undeniably so, in that your smiles and words of love and affection were ever directed at him but they were absolutely not worthy of the same. To save you from being disappointed and upset with him he quickened his pace, as not to be tempted more by the wish to harm those fools who dared even speak your name.

You were, as always, waiting in your usual spot and his breath caught as he looked upon you. Aw you were radiant on any day to him but today was extra special. You noticed him as you always did and smiled, so warm to him he nearly burst into tears in that very moment. You always seemed to know when he was having one of Those Moments and thus chuckled lightly before reaching out and touching his cheek, “Oh Erik...”

He put his hand over yours, leaning into your touch with all the desperation and longing of a man dying of thirst in the desert finding water at last. You couldn't help but think how sweet and cute he was and want to kiss him, as you often wanted to kiss him. But to do so here would surely break the dam and you'd have a crying phantom on your hands, making it harder to hide. So instead you held back and spoke again, “Shall we go?”

He nodded enthusiastically, reminding you now of a puppy. Oh how sweet your Erik could be. He took your hand and lead you away, through passages you knew by heart, through the secret entrance to the lake that you'd gone through so many times, across the lake itself. He looked at you repeatedly and in his eyes was nervousness and shyness; it occurred to you that every time something big was happening, even just in his mind, he became as timid as a schoolboy with his first crush. You never could decide which you preferred: the confident Phantom or this sweet child in a man's body. It was likely you liked them both equally and just as much.

The sight of the roses that filled his living space made you smile and as he rushed to the organ to play for you, filling the air was that angelic music that only he seemed capable of creating, your heart soared and you felt that surely you were in paradise. You could see in all his preparations that he was diligent and devoted, that to him you were the most precious flower, the most beautiful thing. You could not help but twirl and dance as he played, wearing of course the dress he'd given you for your birthday; it seemed only right to do so today. You added words to his song, whatever came to mind, and his heart swelled too to hear you sing for him, his songbird, his beloved.

When the song was done he looked at you with expectation and you smiled at him again. “That was beautiful, Erik, thank you. I've never had such a wonderful gift for St. Valentines Day.”

The way his face lit up made you again wish to cup his face in your hands and kiss him with even just a fraction of the love you felt welling up when he looked so sweet. His heart swelled with delight and happiness and he himself could not help but move to go to you, unwilling to stay apart much longer, before kissing you himself. It was the kind of kiss that could only be had by those who loved each other dearly and it was so wonderful to you whenever he, your shy scared Erik, was willing to initiate.

You both hesitated to pull away but air was necessary even for a phantom and a songbird. But the love in both of your eyes seemed none the dimmer for the action; you giggled, delighted as always to see the way his face flushed whenever you kissed, then stepped away. A small whine escaped him but you reached out, plucking a rose from the massive collection, you suspected he stole every perfect rose in Paris just for you. Returning to him you slipped it into his suit and leaned up to kiss his cheek. “How lucky am I to have such a perfect angel as mine this St. Valentines.”

Oh there were the tears, they always came, and Erik clung to you, holding his precious songbird close. “Erik is no perfect angel, Erik wanted to kill those men who thought they could be close to Erik's songbird, Erik has killed and hurt people before. He's just lucky and blessed that such a wonderful, kind soul would want Erik and be willing to be his on a day such as this. Erik is so grateful, Erik loves his songbird so very much!”

You sighed fondly, lovingly. You reached up and stroked his hair, soothing him best you could. “You didn't kill them though and that's a good thing. I'm glad you didn't; it would make me sad but you knew that and you resisted. You're such a good man, Erik, you really are, and I'm the one whose thankful that I get to be loved and love such a wonderfully sweet person such as you. Now please dry those tears, this is supposed to be a happy romantic day. Let's dance and sing and enjoy each others company instead, hm?”

He sniffled and looked at you all teary eyed and in awe. Sometimes it could be overwhelming, how much he loved you, how much he adored you, but you loved him too, so very very much. You kissed his cheek then a light peck again upon his lips; he hesitated but he released you and with a sniffle he nodded. You were right of course, this was supposed to be a happy day and wouldn't it far better to enjoy it than to cry and feel miserable over how much he felt unworthy? You continued to smile at him and he managed to smile in return; you took his hand and tugged lightly and he led you to the dining room so that you could enjoy the feast he prepared for you two.

Erik was just so thankful that you, you were his Valentine.

#phantom of the opera #poto #erik destler x reader #erik destler #phantom x reader #erik x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #valentines day #pure unadulterated fluff

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Roses Are Red - Erik Destler (The Phantom) X Female Reader

Title: Roses Are Red

Erik Destler (The Phantom) X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Christine, Madame Giry (Mentioned), Meg (Mentioned), Reader's father (Mentioned)

Requested

WC: 1,628

Warnings: The reader has a father, the reader wears a dress, insecurities, and slight family angst, and that's about it

The beautiful fabric felt heavy in your hands. The soft cotton and lace in such unique designs, it was your best work yet. You had spent months on this dress, working long hours after everyone was asleep to complete it before Christine's big night. You'd always been good with a needle and thread but you hadn't ever made an extravagant gown before. Stopping at Christine's dressing room door, you stared down at the dress. Christine was so lucky, getting to do what she had dreamed of doing since she was little, getting to be a star. You only wished that one day you could be like her.

Stepping into Christine's dressing room, you were immediately greeted by the rising singer. She quickly turned around, eyes widening as a gasp left her lips. "Is that it?" She asked, breathlessly.

"Is that the dress?" She repeated as you handed it over to her.

Christine took in a deep breath before taking it in her arms. "Yes!" She cried out happily. "It's perfect!"

You smiled. "I'm glad you like it."

She ran her hands along the material, running them across the delicate lace and soft fabric. "This is so beautiful! I've never seen anything like it."

You smiled sheepishly, "Well, it is a one-of-a-kind dress. Made for you." You joked lightly and Christine nodded with a huge smile.

"You are amazing, Y/N." She said, brushing her hand against your cotton sleeve. "Thank you."

"No problem." You replied with a nervous chuckle.

You helped with the corset and strings as she brushed down the many layers of the dress's skirt. You both worked in silence, enjoying each other's company while getting ready for the biggest performance of her life. When you finished with the last bit of laces, you stepped back to look at the final product. It was beautiful on her, and you were glad you finished it in time.

After finishing up her hair and make-up, Christine was ushered out of the dressing room and backstage. You stood in her dressing room for a moment, sighing as you clasped your hands and bowed your head. You would usually stand on the side of the stage, watching most of the show, and you knew it would be the right thing to do; supporting your friend. But, at that moment, you wanted to be alone.

Heading up the stairs to the dancer's shared bedroom, you headed to the back of the room, where a wooden door stood. Grabbing your key from your skirt pocket, you unlocked the door and headed inside, climbing a smaller set of stairs before arriving at your small room. This was your special place. A place where you could go to feel safe and relaxed. You carefully shut the second door behind you and locked it with the key, before sliding the bolt closed. Lighting a candle and hanging up the lamp, you walked over to your desk and grabbed your violin.

Picking it up, you ran your fingers against the ebony wood and sighed once more. It was your father who also was a violinist like Christine's father. He was long gone by now, leaving you alone to care for my Meg's mother, Madame Giry. While Christine now had a grand room to sleep in, and Meg slept in the room with the other dancers, you had your small room. And that is all you could ever hope for. Closing your eyes, you began to play softly, humming along with the melody. As you continued playing, you noticed your fingers were beginning to ache, but you didn't stop or slow down. You continued to play your deathly beautiful tune, feeling the song flow through your body.

You slowly opened your eyes again, your chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. Setting down the violin, you dragged your heavy feet to your bed, falling down onto the scruffy quilts, you shut your eyes and fell asleep.

~~~

You didn't know how much time had passed, but you quickly opened your eyes and sat up in your bed when you heard footsteps at your door. One of the perks of being a light sleeper. You just hoped it wasn't that creepy man who wandered the dancer's room while they were away. Staring at the door, you waited, quietly, watching, only to furrow your eyebrows when a small letter slid under your door. Getting up, you walked over, picking up the letter. It was a soft creme color, with a dark red wax seal, imprinted with a skull. Ominous, yet beautiful. Unlatching your door, you quickly swung it open, only to find no one there. Narrowing your eyes, you hesitantly shut the door again, locking it, before sitting on your bed; the letter in your hands.

Sliding your finger under the envelope's seal, slowly breaking the wax and freeing the letter from it. Setting the envelope on your bed, you unfolded the letter, immediately impressed by the writer's handwriting.

"My dear, you played beautifully. Your talent is something that should be cherished, not hidden. I would love to hear more. - O.G."

Your eyes widened as you stared at those two simple letters. The Opera Ghost had written to you. Complimenting you, wanting to hear you play again. A thrill ran through your stomach. You hadn't expected someone like him to notice you, he was the one who indeed got Christine her role. Flipping the letter, you were surprised to find more writing.

"Meet me in Christine's dressing room."

Your eyes couldn't have widened anymore. Christine's dressing room? Why? Why would he want to meet there? What does he want? Shaking your head, you closed the letter and stood, tucking the letter back into its envelope. Whatever it was, you were too curious to not go. That was your one flaw, you were so intrigued by the Opera Ghost, not even Meg's ghost stories could change your views.

You hurried downstairs, making sure to lock your door behind you before heading downstairs. You paused outside Christine's dressing room, listening for voices, of which you heard none. Stepping inside, you froze. There was no one there. Was this a joke? You figured he would at least be waiting for you, but instead, it was completely empty. Slowly turning around, you found yourself face to face with the Opera Ghost. Hidden behind the large mirror, half of his face was covered with a white mask, cloaked in all black.

He raised his hand out towards you as the glass moved to the side. He held his hand out to you as his light blue eyes silently begged you to take it. Taking a step forward, you hesitantly reached for his outstretched hand. His gloved hand was cool and smooth as he pulled you closer, reaching around to pull you closer as well. You shivered as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close to himself. Looking down at you he whispered,

"Please don't be afraid, Y/N."

You couldn't look away from his eyes; the perfectly blue hues staring right back down at you. "You know my name?" You asked, voice soft, breathless even.

He chuckled, nodding his head. "I do."

"But why?" You questioned as he cupped your cheek.

His smile was blinding, piercing you with its beauty. "I have heard you play long before tonight. Almost every night you play to the ghosts of the opera house. And I've been watching you ever since then." His voice was so low, like silk against your skin.

"Why me? Why am I the one that you've shown your face to?" You asked, unable to look into his eyes, casting your gaze on his black shoes.

The Phantom gently cupped your chin, lifting your face to meet his eyes. "Because I can see you as clearly as if you were standing in front of me. I know how hard you have worked to get where you are today. From being left behind, to finding a place here. And I know you will continue to work hard. That is why I chose you."

You felt his warm breath against your neck as he spoke. "What do you mean?" You asked, tilting your head to the side slightly.

"I want you to audition for my next production." He said simply, "I want you to play my song. The one I wrote especially for you."

You blinked rapidly, trying to process what he'd just told you. "What?" You asked, unsure that you heard him correctly.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, letting his lips linger there before he finally released you. "I'm sorry," he murmured, "I forgot myself. I'm going to take my leave, but please, think it over, my darling." He spoke, pressing a leather folder into your hands.

And, within a blink of an eye, he was gone. You stared into the dark hallway, before exiting the mirror passageway. The mirror slid behind you as you stared at the leather folder in your hands. Unclasping the leather clasp, you flipped it open, eyes scanning the notes on the lines. You began to hum along to the song as you slowly left Christine's dressing room, closing the door behind you.

Christine ran down the hall, holding the skirt of the dress in her hands. "Y/N! Did you hear- what's that?" She asked, noticing the leather folder in your hands.

You looked up at her and back down to the music sheets, closing it shut, "It's... Nothing... I have to go... Congratulations on your big night, Christine." You spoke hastily, before stumbling past her as she frowned, having recognized the leather folder in your hands. She was worried about you, and what the Phantom was planning.

#x female reader #x reader #fluff #slight angst #the phantom of the opera #the phantom of the opera 2004 #erik destler #erik destler x female reader #erik destler x reader #requested #requests #request

[typing-catastrophe]

Erik Lehnsherr - love language headcanons

💕 fluff

showing his love: quality time and gift giving

he enjoys cooking together or playing chess, even just being in the same room together

he makes little trinkets and sometimes even jewellery out of metal

to an outsider it might seem like he doesn't care much or that he's inattentive, but he listens

he makes sure you never run out of your favourite tea, snacks, alcohol etc. and whatever else you mention, will magically appear sooner or later in your room

he is the type of person to come home with an absurd amount of whatever you mentioned liking the day before

also, that man is touch starved as fuck

so while he might not actively reach out to you, in the beginning at least, he does enjoy receiving physical affection

meaning, the way he feels loved/likes to receive love is physical touch

i guarantee you this man will melt when you run your fingers through his hair or snuggle up against him

when you to fall asleep he will hold you close in his arms so that he knows you're safe

he absolutely adores it when you two stand close together and you reach your hand out to cup his cheek, letting him lean into it

whenever sitting besides each other he will put his arm up behind you on the backrest

he would never admit it but he definitely is a little bit disappointed if you don't lean into him when he does it

#erik lehnsherr #erik lehnsherr fluff #erik lehnsherr headcanon #xmen movies #xmen #young erik lehnsherr #erik lehnsherr x reader #erik lehnsherr headcanons #magneto #x-men #x men #xmen first class #xmdc #xmdofp #xmen days of future past #erik lehnsherr fanfic #erik lehnsherr x you #my writing

[machalatte]

Heaven on No Man’s Land

(A VashWood, Trigun fanmix)

~

Bury those skeletons deep beneath the sand.

(Vash and Nicholas carve out a piece of happiness for themselves. Forget the world and all it's burdens for a moment.)

LISTEN: [SPOTIFY] / [YOUTUBE]

Art credit: oniro_ro. Thank you!

~

Tell me our story: are we impetuous, are we kind to each other, do we surrender to what the mind cannot think past? Where is the evidence I will learn to be good at loving?

Let me come back whole, let me remember how to touch you before it is too late. (Summer solstice, by Stacie Cassarino)

Track list under the cut!

"I will not ask you where you came from. I will not ask, and neither would you."

Like real people do - Hozier

Sleep on the floor - The Lumineers 

Hold you in my arms - Ray Lamontagne

My lover - Birdtalker

Call it dreaming - Iron & Wine

Real love baby - Father John Misty

Mystery - Tom Odell

London's song - Matt Hartke

Aging out of the 20th century - Trash Panda

What do it mean - Lord Huron

Lyric selections: here.

#vashwood #trigun #trigun maximum #celebrating the return of having enough inspiration to make playlists with my latest hyperfixation #yeah this is undiluted fluff with an undercurrent of melancholy #aka my favourite flavour #enjoy!! #nicholas d wolfwood #vash the stampede #eriks #not canon but imagining they give living normally a try for a bit #it doesn't last but it was heaven for a little while #machamixes #fanmix

[holy-puckslibrary]

━ 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐟

˗ˏˋ𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ˎˊ˗

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 —grumpy!erik johnson x sunshine!nanny!reader 𝐰𝐜 — 1.1k 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — in erik's absence, his nanny takes over staging the family's elf on the shelf in order to keep the magic alive for his children. results are... questionable.

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — i'm unhealthily attached to this made-up family send help

˗ˏˋ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ˎˊ˗

JOSIE JOHNSON is thoroughly unimpressed by her Elf.

“Snow angels? In sprinkles? Groundbreaking.”

Dissatisfaction narrows her gray-blue eyes as she stands in front of the kitchen island.

Bernard, the Johnson family’s special scout from the North Pole, is lying limp against the marble countertop in a pool of red and green. The sugary spillage is low-effort at best, especially compared to his iPad drive-in movie yesterday and the miniature golf course the day before that.

Dumping a container of cheap sprinkles—and not even the expensive variety with confetti shapes and edible glitter—wasn’t going to cut it.

Someone was going to have to do better.

“Uh-oh! Looks like Bernard had a wild night,” Erik Johnson, her father, announces as he pads in from the dining room.

If he thinks he’s being subtle, he’s doing a terrible job. His daughter can see straight through him; his voice goes all sorts of wonky when he has a secret.

And his dye-stained fingertips aren’t doing him any favors, either.

“Wild for who? A first grader?”

Josie was in second grade now. She is far too smart to fall for his poor acting and, evidently, much too cool to bother with humoring him.

Erik cocks his head to the side. His kid could be snarky, but she typically postponed doling out remarks until the afternoon. Or until he’s had his second helping of caffeine.

Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today, he thinks to himself.

Aloud, though, he opts for a simple joke. “Well, I think it was wild. Do I look like a first grader to you?”

He sets his coffee mug beside the espresso machine and puffs out his chest like a peacock. Erik’s already 6’4 without trying, so when he raises both hands and lefts onto his tip-toes for emphasis, his head nearly brushes the ceiling. He’s grinning, wide and bright.

He expects his daughter to giggle at his antics like she did when she was younger or, at the very least, crack a reluctant smile out of second-hand embarrassment.

She does neither.

Rather than pearly teeth, Erik’s met with the whites of her eyes. If Josie had rolled them any harder, they'd have gotten stuck facing the wrong way. That’s what her older brother, Reese, told her whenever she did it.

The irony of the repeated red-lettered phrase "Be Nice!" on the white background of her Grinch-themed pajamas isn’t lost on him.

“Josephine Johnson, I thought I made myself clear the last time we talked about this; you do not roll your eyes at me. Or anyone, for that matter. It���s very rude,” he reprimands sternly. “What’s gotten into you?”

Josie crosses her arms, unphased, and fixes him with an unwavering glare. She could do this all day if need be.

“What’d she do this time?” Reese asks through a yawn as he strolls into the kitchen.

You, the family’s live-in nanny, are not far behind. You’re rubbing the sleep from the corners of your tired eyes when Josie darts to your side.

She looks up at you expectantly, eyes wide and pleading. Silently, they beg for you to agree to whatever she’s planning to say next.

“Can you be in charge of it again? Please, please, please?” she asks, so sweetly she might give herself a cavity.

Josie tugs on your arm to drive home her adolescent anguish when you aren’t instantly compliant.

Panic fizzles in your chest. There was no way she knew, right?

She couldn’t. No way. You were still a few years off from the dicey reveal. No one in her grade had spilled the beans yet, and the adults in her life were content to keep up the ruse.

Surely, she meant as the Elf’s supervisor or an assistant.

Wrong.

“Bernard looks so much cooler whenever Dad lets you set up his pranks instead of doing it himself. See? Look how lazy he was this time,” Josie explains while tugging you over to the scene of the crime. “All he did was spill my sprinkles all over the counter and set my Elf on top of the mess. Like, could it get any lamer than that? He’s probably all sticky now, and he’ll have to stay that way because he’d drown in the washing machine!” 

“No, I didn’t,” Erik says a little too quickly, tone noticeably defensive. “Bernard—who is perfectly fine and not sticky at all, for the record—must’ve been way too tired when he got back from visiting Santa last night to do anything else. He didn’t even bother making it hard for you to find him this morning. I’d do something “lame” too if I spent the entire night flying home from far, far away.”

Bernard wasn't the only member of their household who spent the night up in the inky sky; Erik had been in an entirely different country only four hours ago. And, instead of going straight to bed like his body urged him, he spent an hour arranging the stupid little Elf into what he thought was a fun scenario for his daughter to find the following morning.

Now, he wishes he had just left Bernard on the mantle.

He blames you. They wouldn’t be in this mess if you hadn’t introduced her to the concept. Fuck your quirky childhood tradition. All it'd caused were problems.

“I’m not a baby anymore. I know Bernard isn’t actually one of Santa’s elves!” Josie shouts, growing angry.

Reese mumbles something to the effect of “Could’ve fooled me…” under his breath, and Josie’s face pinches with frustration.

Like the miniature teenager she’s rapidly morphing into, the youngest Johnson massages the fold between her eyebrows. Then, her outburst matures into an accusation. “I know you’ve been hiding him this whole time.”

Erik balks at the allegation.

Irritated, she continues, “I’ve been sneaking down to watch you do it since I was, like, five years old. It's not my fault you aren't very observant. Or that your footsteps sound like an elephant’s. But I don’t care about that. I don't care that I know, but I do care how much effort you put into it.”

Josie clutches your hand in hers and smiles. She could get away with murder with the deep dimples indented on either side of her mouth —and she knows it, too.

She also knows flattery can get her wherever she wants. “Which is why I want you to take over again. You did such a good job while he was away. The goldfish in the paper pond was super cute, and you even made sure he was watching my favorite movie at the drive-in!" 

“Fine, you know what? You’re right,” Erik confesses, conceding to his eight-year-old with a toss of his hands. “And if it really matters that much, I’ll never touch the Elf again. Okay? I give up full control and responsibility.”

Josie positively beams. She always got her way eventually.

“So, how did you even figure it out, anyway?” Reese asks.

The question is garbled; he couldn’t wait until his mouth wasn’t full of Lucky Charms to make his inquiry.

“How could I not?” Josie retorts. Her facial expression is equal parts annoyance and ridicule. Reese’s eyes loop. His little sister clarifies with a huff, “Obviously, he isn’t a real elf, Reese. Santa needs all the help he can get to make sure everyone on the Nice List gets exactly what they asked for every year. Why would he send an actual elf, who should be building a bike or sewing a teddy bear, to spy on me for weeks?”

Fair point, you think to yourself.

“Wait a minute... If you knew he wasn’t real the entire time, why did you let us keep hiding him?” Erik asks, a quizzical dent in his forehead. 

Josie perks up, apparently thrilled to clue them in on the motivation behind her feigned ignorance. “Mrs. Thornton says even adults need a creative outlet because it makes them happier. Especially when they’re grouchy. Clearly, you’re the exception, Daddy.”

Reese honks, sending milk across the room from his nostrils.

Your sudden amusement is muffled by your free hand.

If it were humanly possible, there would be steam billowing from Erik’s crimson ears.

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────────────

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#the nanny #the nanny verse #the nanny!erik johnson #nanny!reader #erik johnson fluff #erik johnson fanfiction #erik johnson fic #erik johnson angst #erik johnson x reader #erik johnson #erik johnson x you #erik johnson x f!reader #hockey fic #reader insert fic #nhl fic #e. johnson #ej #grumpy x sunshine #nhl blurb #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl fanfiction #hockey rpf #hockey romance #hockey fandom #hockey boys #nhl rpf #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #hockey x reader

[potol0ver]

*cough* you called for a prompt of erik being whipped for his lover? how about his reaction when he wakes up to find his lover holding him and whispering sweet nothings to his presumably asleep form

This is adorable hell yes- also thank you to everyone sending asks/requests, I am glad to take all of them <3 hopefully, I can get one more done tonight I'm loving these prompts y'all are feeding me-

Tags; Erik x GN reader, buckle up this is wholesome and kind of cheesy, fluffy as fuck, reverse comfort, short and sweet

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Erik have quite different schedules in general, he works afternoons to morning, and you work mornings to night. So naturally, there will be moments one of you is sleeping while the other is awake no matter how much time shifting you both do in your schedules.

Currently, Erik is deep asleep in his bed as you lay side by side next to him, running your fingers through his natural hair and adoring him. How he slept hugging his pillow, to the tiniest snores, and even the rare sight of peace on his face made your heart warm. He was just so cute, you couldn't help but adore him.

“I love you, darling,” you praise as you gently trace over the scarred part of his face. “I don't know how long it'll take for you to realize I adore you but I do,” moving towards him just enough for your body to touch him you rant and spill your love to his sleeping figure. In reality, he was awake the moment you sat down on the bed.

Erik didn't move because he didn't want you to stop giving him affection, but now you're saying such sweet words and caressing his face, he can't keep the charade up anymore. His face twisted as he started to cry and grabbed your hand to kiss it before you could pull away.

“How could you ever say things like that about me.” Erik sobbed holding the back of your hand to his mouth. The sight wrenched your heart out, your other hand came up and cradled his head.

“Oh my sweet Erik, how could I not? Come here,” you say pulling him closer to your chest. He gladly let go of the pillow and replaced it with you, crying into your chest holding you tight like you'd vanish into thin air. “I love you Erik.”

“How? I am hideous, maman couldn't even love me because of it.” sobbing his grip tightened as he buried his face more into your chest.

“And she is blind my dear because what I see is a handsome man who is a musical genius,” gently saying to him as you try and coax him with your hand to look at you. “I see a handsome man that has pure adoration and devotion to his lover, not many people have that my love.”

Finally, you were able to turn his head up at you and look him in his tear-stricken eyes. “And I see a handsome man who has had a too harsh of life, please Erik let me love you like you should've gotten from the beginning.” you plead to him kissing his temple.

His eyes widen as his sobbing gains a second wind, this time he didn't cry because he feared you were lying to him or deceiving him, he cried because he finally had someone who loved him. You and Erik laid together embracing each other tightly, giving each other the occasional flurry of kisses as you both eventually fell asleep.

#erik destler #erik poto #erik destler x reader #erik the phantom #erik x reader #phantom of the opera #phantom x reader #phantom of the opera fluff #erik fluff #erik destler fluff #reverse comfort

[herbrattypsht]

Erik coming back from Wakanda to tell reader he’s a prince

a/n; I love this idea sm, did a little self indulgent while writing this but i hope you enjoy

Erik “Killmonger” Stevens x black!fem!reader

TW: mentioning of injuries, slight angst, over all just fluff

* ༶•┈┈⛧┈♛ ♛┈⛧┈┈•༶

Seven months. It had been seven months since Erik had left with a word. You were aware of his plans to take over Wakanda as the rightful heir to the throne, but for him to leave, pack all his things without a goodbye? It hurt you.

You and Erik had known each other ever since you were kids. He was placed in the same foster home after his father passed, and y’all just clicked. Erik was always a hotheaded kid who couldn’t express his feelings correctly while you were sweet and understanding, taking the time to listen to him. You understood why he was angry and you were there for him as he was there for you. When you guys got to your sophomore year of high school you decided to try dating, and it was the best decision ever.

Or so you thought.

You were always the first person he said hi to at the beginning of the day and the first person he said goodnight to at night. He told you that you were his world and that he couldn’t wait to live a long life with you. But now, you couldn’t believe a word he said. You were beyond heartbroken and depressed.

* ༶•┈┈⛧┈♛ ♛┈⛧┈┈•༶

“Your majesty, we have arrived “ Ayo said from the front of the all black Rolls Royce.

“ Thank you Ayo” Erik said, quickly unbuckling his seatbelt and hopping out the car. Erik already knew and had came to terms with the fact that he royally fucked up. He knew how you must have been angry and sad. Erik thought it was best to not tell you when he was leaving in fear you would try to stop him.

With two Dora Milaje at his side, he fixed his chain around his neck, adjusting his shades and walked into your apartment building.

Erik was beyond anxious. Had you had moved? Did you find someone new? Were you going to not going to want to talk to him? So many thoughts went through his head as he had made it up to your floor and stood in front of your door.

Reluctantly, he knocked on your door, hoping you would answer and hear him out.

You had just been laying on your couch, hardly paying attention to whatever show was on your TV. You hear the knock and got up, confused as you were not expecting any company.

Without looking through your peephole, you opened the door, and was welcomed with the sight of Erik, with Ayo and Aneka by his side. To say you were shocked was an understatement.

“ I know I fucked up princess, you have every right to be angry with me. You can scream and hit me all you want but please hear me out.” that was the first thing he said while he stood before you. His beard was trimmed, his dreads were a little longer, freshly retwisted and braided back.

“ You have ten minutes to explain” you said with a stern tone, letting him and the Dora inside your apartment.

* ༶•┈┈⛧┈♛ ♛┈⛧┈┈•༶

You guys had sat down on your king sized bed in your bedroom, while Aneka and Ayo waited outside the door, spears in hand.

“ Baby, I know you’re upset, and I don’t blame you, but I did this to protect you” he said, slowly grabbing your hand and interlocking it with his. You stayed quiet, looking at him with glossy eyes. You were so close to bursting into tears but you just couldn’t.

“ When i went to Wakanda to claim my place as king, a lot went down. I was stabbed, hospitalized for a while. And after some time of proving myself, my Auntie made me prince” he didn’t want to go into detail about how he almost killed T’Challa and almost started a war with American.

Finally, giving his hand a light squeeze, you let the tears flow. You hugged him close, sobbing silently into his neck. His held you close, rubbing slow circles on your back.

“ I thought that if you didn’t know when I would be leaving you wouldn’t be able to try and stop me. So many people died because of my actions, and the last thing I ever want is for one of those lost lives to have been yours.” He finally calmed you down, cradling your face in his hand.

“ Erik, please don’t leave again, I can’t do it without you. Ever since you left everything has been awful. Even getting out of bed had been a challenge for me. I needed you. And you weren’t there “ you said, your voice cracking a little from crying.

“ I’m not leaving you ever princess, that’s actually another reason why I’m here, I want you to come back to Wakanda with me, to be my real princess and live the long life I promised you “ he said, holding both your hands in his.

“ You want me to come with you?” You said, only questioning it cause it’s so hard to believe. You were still mad, rightfully so, but whats the worst thing that could happen if you gave him a second chance.

Before he could answer the question, you pulled him into a kiss, a passionate yet soft kiss. He finally broke the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours.

“ You gon’ be my princess, no one is ever taking me from you” he mumbles, looking into your eyes as you finally smile, and oh how he missed at smile. He was so ready for Romanda to finally meet the woman who kept her nephew safe all this time.

A/Not : should i make a P2? Lmk if yall liked this?

#erik killmonger #fan fic #killmonger x black!reader #killmonger x reader #michael b jordan #black panther #erik stevens #marvel #marvel fics #killmonger fluff #erik stevens x reader #killmonger x black reader #black reader

[willows-escape]

Symbolic - 1990!Erik x Reader - Part 2 (m)

Pairing - Erik (1990! Charles Dance) x (Female) Reader

Summary - the last hurdle in your relationship had finally been crossed and erik no longer felt the need to hide such a pivotal aspect of himself away from you anymore. but now all the barriers had fallen and the mask was removed, there was one last thing you craved. and erik, for some reason, was very against participating.

Warnings - erik having major moodswings, apologies and forgiveness, poor self esteem, possessiveness, accidental mask slip, erik panicking, sexual and innocent teasing, teeth rotting fluff, victorian purity culture and potentially misinformed discussions of christianity (oops), y/n knows what she wants and she wants it now, reader isn’t particularly chubby or skinny just average size, virginity loss, breast play, hand jobs (m receiving), unintentional edging, continuous position changing, penetrative sex, unprotected sex because the victorians did not vibe with condoms

Word Count - 9,668

Notes - this is the final part of this little 'twoshot.' i think this is a nice place to wrap it up and end it and move on to make even more erik content because god knows we are all starved. god bless.

feedback is appreciated :) good or bad

01 / 02 (you're here!)

You were not exaggerating when you mentioned that the statues required cleaning. Specks of dust covered every surface of the different fabrics and metals of the stolen display pieces. You couldn't remember the last time you saw Erik dusting them.

You spent a good two hours meticulously cleaning those statues, keeping yourself occupied. A wave of guilt settled deep within your chest as you reminisced about the events that had transpired before your hasty departure. It had been overwhelming for you - the emotional outpouring and the astonishment of finally seeing Erik's face had struck you hard. Not to mention when you recklessly flung yourself onto him, as if devoid of any semblance of control over your own limbs. You were overcome by a sense of foolishness. In that moment, you believed it was the only choice available to you: to fabricate an excuse and flee from his presence.

Your heart constricted as if it were tightly bound by an unforgiving rope, mercilessly pulling and yanking as you sat consumed by your ruminations. The weight of guilt intensified as you contemplated the depth of Erik's sentiments, the vulnerability he had bared before you. Desperately, you tried your best to suppress these thoughts, reminding yourself that you needed time for introspection, or you’d risk an emotional outburst. Yet deep within, you recognized that you ought to have known better, should have conducted yourself with greater propriety. If only you had summoned the courage to articulate your overwhelming emotions and request a moment of solitude, all of this could have been averted. Regret washed over you as you comprehended that you had needlessly transformed a simple circumstance into a tangled web of emotions and uncertainty.

It was quick approaching five o'clock, the time Erik would usually call out to you and say that he was off to gather things for your afternoon meal as you didn't have anywhere to hygienically store food in the little lagoon. You'd not seen him since the time you'd spent in your bedroom, so you mustered all your hope and prayed that he'd show himself to you so that you could vehemently apologise and beg for his forgiveness.

It took a little while longer than five o'clock, but your lover finally emerged from hiding. Your ears perked up, and your hair stood on end as the sound of footsteps approached from behind. They came to a halt not far from where you crouched, and you held your breath, your hands trembling as you continued to wipe down the statue. You found yourself fixated on a minuscule crevice in the metal, desperately endeavouring not to startle him away. The apprehension within you grew stronger with each passing second.

"It seems you're more infatuated with the statues than you are with me," Erik finally said from behind you.

You huffed in amusement, a smile finally reappearing on your lips. You compelled yourself to stand upright and forsake the act of tidying for the present moment, instead pivoting to confront the man standing in your wake. He stood towering and seemingly unfazed, a faint smile playing upon his lips akin to your own.

"You have my whole heart, don't play dumb," you laughed, dropping the duster to the floor.

Erik approached you, gradually closing the distance between you until his presence was palpable against your cold skin. His hands delicately clasped yours, his thumbs tenderly caressing you. You raised your gaze to meet his intense stare, entranced in the depths of his eyes.

"You have mine too," he said, "Which is why I'll forgive you for that little disappearing act. I wanted to give you some space, but as you know the evening is approaching and we need nourishment, so I'll be-"

"I'm sorry. I didn't consider your feelings before I left, and that was cruel of me. You'd bared yourself to me and I walked away because of my own feelings, and that was selfish," you whispered, your eyes slowly trailing down in shame as your head dropped.

Erik shook his head, a hand leaving yours to cup your chin and lift you back up to his eye level. "You can walk away from me a thousand times over, and as long as you return, I'll never bat an eye."

"Erik, that's not right," you replied, removing his hand from your chin to hold it instead, "You aren't expendable, you don't deserve to be left and returned to as it suits somebody else. If I hurt you, please say so."

"Relax, we were both tense and overwhelmed. It's alri-"

"I'm not just talking about that! How dare you say it's okay for me to leave you and waltz back as I please! You matter more than-"

Unlike before, this time it was Erik who sent his lips crashing down on yours. The intensity and urgency in his actions conveyed his feelings and spoke volumes without a single word being spoke. His lips pressed against yours with such intensity and fervour that you couldn't help but gasp. His hands wandered from yours, up the contours of your arms until they were tightly holding your face in his fiery grip. Your nerves set ablaze and your eyes watered as you quickly flung your hands up to entangle your fingers in his blonde hair, unaware that you were interfering with the knot keeping his mask attached to his head.

Erik was completely captivated, his senses consumed by the intensity of the moment. Unbeknownst to him, the ties securing his mask slowly slipped, gradually unravelling until they hung precariously. The only thing preventing the inevitable was the proximity of your faces, maintaining the fragile balance. Just as you pulled back slightly to catch your breath before resuming the kiss, the mask finally succumbed to gravity and fell, shattering the veil.

It happened in an instant. His cry of horror echoed through the room as he violently tore himself away from you, his hands that were once ardently wrapped around you now shielding himself once more. Panic surged through your veins as the realization of what had just occurred hit you like a dagger to the heart, shattering your world into a million jagged pieces. Without a second thought, you instinctively reached down to retrieve his fallen mask, your trembling fingers fumbling to grasp it as he seemed lost in a whirlwind of confusion and despair, unable to distinguish up from down.

You felt awful.

"Erik, it's okay. I didn't see anything, I have your mask. Take it," you instructed, holding it out while also trying to maintain some distance, trying to avoid frightening him further.

He struggled to regain his composure, his hands trembling uncontrollably and his body wracked with violent shudders. His mind raced, desperately trying to make sense of the unfolding situation. It was an absolute nightmare. Twice in a single day, he had been exposed, his mask stripped away and his face studied by a piercing gaze that seemed to penetrate his very soul. There was no hint of malice, no trace of fear in those eyes, and that's what terrified him the most. It was an unfathomable sensation, one that sent waves of sheer terror crashing through his being.

"Erik," you whispered, your voice barely audible. Uncertainty gripped your every word as you grappled with the weight of the situation. A deep sense of guilt washed over you, threatening to consume your thoughts. It was your fault, you knew it. The mask had come loose, revealing a side of Erik that he fiercely guarded. You feared he would believe that you had purposely revealed him, betraying his trust in the most vulnerable of moments. The room fell into a tense silence as you waited, your heart pounding in your chest, unsure of what would happen next.

You observed that he wasn't crying like he was earlier that day, which gave you some relief. However, it was evident that he was visibly distressed. Your heart ached as you observed him and his turmoil. After the intense series of events, you believed that he had experienced enough excitement for one day.

"Erik, I have your mask. Put it back on if you wish and go lay down, I'll deal with dinner arrangements tonight. You've been through so much today."

He frantically shook his head, his face still concealed behind his trembling hands. The urgency in his actions was palpable, as if his very soul depended on it. With bated breath, he inhaled deeply, summoning every ounce of courage within him. Slowly, almost agonizingly, he began to peel back his hands, one finger at a time. Your heart raced as the suspense hung heavy in the air.

As the seconds ticked by, the anticipation grew, enveloping the room like a thick fog. The silence was deafening, broken only by the sound of his quickened breaths. Every nerve in his body seemed to be on edge, as if a single wrong move could shatter his entire world. The tension mounted, building up to a high that seemed almost unbearable. You could practically taste the anticipation in the air, a mix of excitement and nervousness. It was as if time itself had slowed down, stretching out the suspense to its breaking point.

The first glimpse of his face emerged from behind his hands as they subsequently dropped to his sides. Your jaw hung heavy, falling open as you drunk in every little bit of his uncovered self. He stood there, unwavering and self assured, a resolute expression pointed at you. Your ears rang and your palms grew sweaty as you came to the realisation that this was the first time you'd seen his face show any emotion that wasn't gut-wrenchingly disconsolate. You were at a loss for words.

"Erik..."

"I know, a handsome gentleman, aren't I?"

You spluttered in shock, the blood rushing up to your cheeks as you stood there observing him. Simply seconds ago he had been exuberating monumental signs of upset, and now he was... cracking jokes? Not that you weren't attracted to him, but he clearly thought he wasn't handsome. Otherwise you two wouldn't be here right now.

"Well, I'll be taking that off your hands," Erik continued, politely taking his most beloved mask back from you. He quickly resecured it to his head. "I must really go and get food now, otherwise we will go hungry tonight. The kitchen closes around 6 o'clock, as you are aware."

You stood there, utterly astonished, as he placed a quick peck on the back of your hand before walking away. You remained rooted to the spot, completely taken aback by the unexpected turn of events. Oh, how the tables turn.

You remained in this state of stupor for an embarrassing amount of time. You were off in your own world throughout his disappearance- when he returned, once your evening meal had been prepared and consumed, and even now while you were tending to washing your cutlery and plates. Erik did not directly reference the elephant in the room throughout that entire sequence, and you knew you'd have to be the person to bring it up.

Now, you weren't usually the person to address things that required addressing. As you'd demonstrated countless times, you were a run away and ignore your feelings kind of person, not a stay and confront them head on kind of person. Admittedly, though, it was unfair to expect Erik to do the emotional heavy lifting the majority of the time, so you yielded. Just this once.

"Erik," you called out, busying yourself with scrubbing down the little nooks and cranny's of the fork you were holding. His footsteps didn't take long to hear.

"Yes, dear?"

"I'd like to discuss... what happened, with you?"

"Hm? What did happen?"

"Erik," you whined, squeezing the washcloth you were using extra hard as you rung out the dirty water.

"Sorry, I just couldn't believe what I heard. I thought my ears were deceiving me. You want to be the one to discuss things first? The horror."

"Erik, be serious!" you cried out, throwing the washcloth to the hard stone floor with a resounding 'splat!', "I wanted to just make sure you were okay, you switched so fast earlier I thought I'd gone crazy."

"Perhaps you did."

"Erik!"

"I'm just teasing," he smiled, coming to sit next to you. He rubbed your knee soothingly. "I'm perfect. I'm sorry for my little outburst, was just a shock is all. Nothing serious."

"Are you sure?" you asked, holding the hand that was rubbing your knee.

"More than I've ever been in my life."

Erik caught your eye, sustaining relentless eye contact upon saying those words.

"Well, I'll trust you then," you replied.

"How much do you trust me?" Erik asked.

"Way too much,” you giggled. Your smile soon fell upon seeing Erik’s serious expression.

A silence swept over. Your heart was hammering as if it's goal was to send you into a fatal cardiac arrest. Your throat felt as though it was closing up, the incessant twiddling of your fingers your only relief from the heavy air of suspense that wafted over you both like a weighted blanket. You could practically feel your heart in your throat.

"That's all I needed to know."

The hand that was resting on your knee slowly began to crawl up the length of your leg, fingertips lightly grazing your skin as it travelled up and up. You were practically hyperventilating. The sinful intentions behind his touch were palpable, and yet he seemed unashamed, as if he were waiting for you to make the next move.

Soon he reached the curvature of where your thigh met your hips, giving your leg a firm squeeze before continuing even higher up your body. The air was so thick you felt as though you could slice it with a knife and it'd split in two. His hands were so gentle and careful, as if he were afraid one wrong move would make you bolt.

"How about we get some sleep for the night, my dear? I'm quite tired after today, I feel like an early retreat to bed is in order," Erik stated, giving you a coy smile. Your head felt as though it could explode at any second.

"Oh. Alright, then. I bid you goodnight," you quickly mounted your feet, "I hope you sleep well and I shall see you in the-"

Erik quickly scooped you up into his arms, holding you tight and secure as he made his way in the opposite direction of where your bedroom resided. Your eyes widened.

"Erik? Why are we heading to your room? You said it was a bad idea for us to share," you squeaked.

"That was before you'd seen my face. Now we've gotten over that small hurdle, the matter of bedroom sharing is no longer an issue," he replied. "Now, shall we?"

Without saying a word, Erik carried you closer and closer to his resting place. His steps were steady yet quick, and he maintained a firm grip on you. During the journey, you noticed a subtle change in Erik's demeanour. The fire and intensity that once burned in his eyes had started to fade, as if he were changing his mind about something.

As you stepped into his bedroom, your eyes wandered with fascination. It was your first time setting foot inside Erik's chambers, and you were captivated by the opportunity to glimpse into his life as you observed your surroundings. His bed, adorned with little coffins on the posts and covered with neatly arranged black covers, boasted a dark brown wooden frame. It was nestled in the corner of the room, exuding an air of intimacy and comfort. Adjacent to the bed stood a wardrobe, while a meticulously organized desk, adorned with stacked papers and a fountain pen, occupied the space in front. A small bookcase resided beside the desk, completing the ensemble. Though entirely ordinary, the room exuded an atmosphere of tidiness and orderliness, prompting a smile to spread across your lips.

"If you don't have any objections, I'd like for us to share this room together from now on. Your old room can be altered to be a place for your hobbies, interests, whatever you wish it to be. Whatever makes you happy," he said.

"That would be wonderful," you replied. He gently lowered you until your feet could comfortably touch the floor below. However, he made sure to keep an arm firmly sinched around your waist, even as you stood upright.

He nodded, radiating a clear sense of joy and relief. After a final glance around, you turned to face him and met his gaze immediately.

"Forgive me if this comes across as strange, but I've kept some nightclothes for you in here since we started our relationship. Just in case," Erik gently squeezed your waist before stepping away and opening the drawers at the bottom of his wardrobe. Delicate lace and pristine white fabric peeked out from the open drawers as he continued, "Everything will be brought over from your room tomorrow, tonight just wear these."

He reached into the drawers and carefully retrieved the aforementioned night clothes, placing them on the bed beside him. With deliberate movements, he pulled open the doors of the storage unit and extracted a long night shirt. Excusing himself, he quietly stepped away to find a private space to change. As he left, you seized the opportunity that presented itself. Swiftly and silently, you exchanged your blouse and long skirt for the nightgown he had prepared for you.

He returned not long after you'd finished closing your top button, door squeaking as he slowly shut it behind him. He took a deep breath before raising his hands to untie the knot behind his head, allowing the mask to slip off. Seeing you have no reaction, he reached out, waiting for you to place your hand in his before guiding you to the side of the bed. He wrapped you in his arms before lifting you once more, pressing a quick kiss against your forehead before lowering you onto the mattress below. You sunk into the bed as if you were laying on clouds.

He busied himself with removing the blankets from beneath you, bringing them up and over to envelope your frame. He ensured that every inch of your skin was covered and unexposed to the chilly lagoon air. Reaching up, he tucked your hair behind your ear, slowly trailing his fingers down until he stopped at your neck. He gave you another quick kiss before retreating.

He blew out out the candle on his desk before he carefully crawled up onto the bed. He tucked himself away into the corner while you laid on the outside. His arm slithered underneath your neck, pulling you into him with his other. You rested your head on his chest as you turned, nuzzling into him as if he were a giant teddy bear. You thought his heart were about to leap from his chest from the rate you could hear it hammering.

"Goodnight," you said.

"Goodnight."

Many evenings were spent in such a manner. Before long, your former room was emptied and filled with new, exciting things. It had transformed into a new sanctuary, replacing your secluded spot in the verdant woods outside. Now, you possessed a haven to house your cherished items; somewhere to store your books, a cozy nook where you could recline and immerse yourself in literature for hours, and a table for you to engage in the art of crochet, a repository for yarn, and a showcase for your completed projects. It has everything you wanted, precisely as he promised.

Your sentiments for Erik were blossoming with each passing day. His comforting caress, his unwavering commitment to your happiness, his tender manner of adoration - they propelled your emotions beyond what you had deemed imaginable. As a child, you could not have fathomed that dwelling in a modest subterranean abode would be where you dreamed to be in life. Yet, now that you were settled in this lagoon, the thought of never encountering him seemed unfathomable. He personified a sense of belonging, amalgamating all that was exquisite and comforting. He was your haven, the epitome of beauty and security.

But as Erik's love and devotion enshrouded you, there existed an alluring charm concealed beneath the surface. It beckoned you irresistibly, drawing you closer, its presence palpable. You could discern its essence in his tantalizing touch, his possessive grasp, as he ensnared you with an insatiable hunger. It was as if he held you under a bewitching spell, your body a mere marionette swaying to his carnal desires. The longing in his eyes spoke of an urge that transcended innocence, a primal yearning that flouted the conventions of morality. And you, consumed by the same passionate flame, yearned for him with equal fervour, unbound by societal expectations or righteous inhibitions.

So why was he resisting?

He was your everything, your entire world consumed by his presence. You did believe yourself to be the keeper of his heart, and he, in turn, was the keeper of yours. No other soul could ever compare to the ardour you held for him. He was the very essence of your existence, the driving force that propelled you through each passing day. It was not about what he did for you or what he provided; it was simply him—the embodiment of all that you craved. You were willing to endure the depths of hell itself just to remain at his side. There were no limits to what you were willing to bestow upon him, not even your own purity.

It was truly mortifying how excessively you fixated on this minuscule detail. From the moment you had first shared a bed, weeks or even months had elapsed. The atmosphere crackled with an undeniable sexual tension and an insatiable yearning that permeated every interaction, overwhelming you to the point of metaphorical asphyxiation. If only he did not desire it, then you would accept it and never mention the subject again or indulge in surreptitious tantalizing touches. But it was evident that he did indeed want it. His body language screamed what his own lips dared not speak.

So tonight, you had a plan. Either he would relinquish his defences and claim you, as you could discern the fervent desire in his eyes, or he would quash all notions and prospects of intimacy for the indeterminate future. A straightforward affirmation or denial was all you sought, to then bring an end to your torturous overthinking.

To start your plan, you deliberately selected sleepwear that exuded desire, surpassing the usual modesty of your night clothes. It was exquisitely crafted from elegant and feather-light fabric, delicately caressing your skin in a manner that mirrored your desires for your beloved's touch. Its slender straps gracefully extended from the bodice, adorned with sheer breast cups embellished with intricate floral lace. Just below your bosom, a dainty bow served as a liaison between the upper portion of the gown and the gracefully flowing, undecorated skirt. While not lingerie per se, you believed it would at least catch his eye. Hopefully.

As per his usual routine, he entered the room once he had finished dressing for the evening. Lately, he had taken to leaving his mask aside unless he had to venture into the opera house or he was planning to receive a visit from Gerard. Hence, you had the opportunity to behold his expression in its entirety when his gaze fell upon you. His eyes widened, and his mouth fell agape, unabashedly scanning your figure as you discreetly feigned obliviousness to his direct scrutiny. In that moment, you felt acutely aware of your own immodesty, your cheeks aflame with a profound sense of embarrassment.

"I haven't seen that nightdress before," he commented, finally picking up his slack jaw. He moved closer to you, hands coming to rest on your hips as he lips edged near to your ear.

"It was at the back of my closet, I hadn't noticed it until today," you lied, knowing that you'd been very aware of it, and just had no reason to wear it. Until now.

"You look heavenly," he whispered into your ear, sending shivers ricocheting down your spine. His presence was dizzying.

You hadn't thoroughly pondered the plan it seemed. You had hoped that the execution would require minimal effort on your part, yet you had neglected to determine your response for this inevitable situation. Shaking your head, you realized the need to gather your wits. Retreat was not an option now that you had made a commitment.

"Do I?" you asked, hesitantly placing your hands upon his. You needed to act like you knew what you were doing. "You should feel the fabric, it's heavenly to touch as well."

You sensually and enticingly glided both of your hands up your torso, relishing every moment as they caressed the curve of your waist, skilfully manoeuvring them to rest seductively beneath the swell of your bosom. A startled gasp escaped his lips, his breath catching as he realized the audaciousness of your gesture. Your confidence surged with every passing second.

"Y-yes, it's quite nice. I see what you mean," he tried to remove his hands, but you clutched him tighter in response. He clearly didn't really want to remove his hands either, because he didn't put up more resistance than that.

"You touching me is quite nice, too. Although I'd prefer your hands higher."

Each breath that escaped his lips resonated loudly in your ear, his yearning becoming increasingly apparent as it ardently pressed against your backside. Instinctively, you drew your body nearer to his, eliciting a deep groan from behind.

"Or lower. I'm not fussy."

Erik felt as if he were on the verge of bursting. Every ounce of blood in his body was frenziedly surging downward, his throat parched as sweat dripped down his skin. His fingers yearned to comply with your request, but his mind vehemently protested, urging him to resist and refrain from succumbing to such feeble-mindedness. He couldn’t treat you like an object, only something he used to fulfil his devilish wants.

"My dear, I know you may not intend to have this affect on me, but I am a man and... your words stir things in me. Please allow me to remove my hands so we can retire for the night."

"What if that is my intention?" you teased.

Erik hesitated. Did you truly wish for him to treat you in such a manner? Perhaps you did not fully grasp the implications of your actions. For an unwed woman to partake in the act of intimacy was deemed the utmost disgrace, an indelible blemish that would tarnish her reputation indefinitely. Although Erik knew that their secret would remain hidden, he did not wish to lead you astray into the depths of sin. While he may not believe in a higher power, he understood that most individuals clung to faith, and you were no exception.

"I couldn't do that to you," he replied, "You are my lover, not something for me to vent my unholy desires upon. I hold too much respect for you to allow that to happen."

You sighed. "Is that why you kept running away? Because you do not wish me to be a damned woman?"

"Yes. It is already too late for me, I have done too much wrong and I have hurt too many. But you can be saved."

Carefully considering his words, you shrugged, "I can always repent."

Erik gawked at your words, eyebrows furrowing as he processed what you'd uttered. Did you not understand the severity of the situation? Were you not thinking straight at the moment? Why were-

"I may believe in God, but I also believe you aren't going to heaven. So why would I want to go there either?" you explained, tightening your grip on his hands. "If I end up changing my mind, and I regret my decisions, I shall repent and hopefully God will forgive me. But if I marry the man I had premarital sex with, is it really so bad?"

Erik found himself descending into a state of turmoil. He grew exasperated, unable to comprehend why you could not understand that he was doing this for you. He yearned for you to grasp his intentions, to comprehend that his actions were driven by a desire to shield you from sorrow and remorse. Simultaneously, a sense of bewilderment overcame him. As you expanded upon your reasoning, the fortress around his emotions began to crumble, revealing a vulnerability that he had long concealed. With each passing word, he felt his defences wane, his carnal desires surging forth, beckoning him to abandon propriety and surrender to the depths of his impure thoughts. The allure of gratification grew stronger, compelling him to yearn for the freedom to explore the depths of his desires, to caress you with an intensity that bordered on ravishment, and to claim you as his own.

"So, Erik," you spoke, "Will you take me right here and right now, or will we forget this ever happened and go to bed, as if nothing ever happened?"

Erik let out a strained sigh, feeling his composure shatter like delicate porcelain. He offered no words in return, only a meek inclination of his head, which you could discern from the proximity between you. Your heart soared with a mixture of elation and trepidation.

You spun around and launched yourself at him with an enthusiasm you never knew you possessed. Every fantasy, desire, urge, and longing surged to the surface, your lips conveying everything you had kept locked away until this moment. Oxygen ceased to matter, the world dissolving into nothingness as you clung to him with every ounce of desperation. The bed seemed impossibly distant.

With a sense of urgency, you propelled yourself forward, gently but firmly directing Erik until his knees collided with the plush mattress. Wasting no time, you pressed your delicate hands against his chest and gracefully pushed him back, momentarily breaking the connection of your lips as he tumbled onto the bed beneath. He hastily settled into a proper position, while you, with a mix of excitement and apprehension, gracefully climbed on top of him, your legs straddling his form.

Too much time had been squandered to concern yourself with trivial matters like being gentle and slow, you needed him now and you had no intention of lingering. You centre settled upon his pelvis, sensing the warmth of his length beneath his night shirt. Your hips circled around the bulge poking through the fabric, moans and whimpers escaping your lips as you took everything he was willing to give you. He definitely did not object.

Your kisses grew increasingly fervent and frenzied as time wore on, losing yourself in the sensation of his proximity and knowing that by the morning, your connection would have deepened and exceeded all of your expectations. Reflecting upon yourself a month prior, when Erik finally granted you the privilege of seeing him whole- witnessing the profound transformation that had taken place between the two of you since then was nothing short of dizzying.

The straps of your nightgown were slowly beginning to falter off of your shoulders, loosely hanging as if begging him to finish the job and strip you entirely. You’d imagined countless nights of lying beneath him, skin bare and free for him to explore and observe as you basked in the glory of his gaze. So with that thought, you took the hands that were currently clinging onto your hips for dear life and placed them on your shoulders, saying exactly what you wanted without uttering a word.

Erik appeared to understand your desires, for with trembling hands and lips that faltered, he withdrew himself to assess the situation. He gazed up at you, seeking your approval with a nervous and hesitant air, fearful of making a wrong move that would propel you away from him and back to square one. However, your reassuring nod and an intensified grinding of your hips against his spurred him into action more swiftly than a racehorse urged on by the whip. He wasted no time in discarding the delicate straps that confined your form, liberating your body from his prying gaze.

As your nightgown fell to bunch at your legs, Erik felt as though his lungs almost gave out. Your body was unlike anything he’d ever seen in the paintings he collected, every mark and curve of your skin displaying a radiance he didn’t realise was possible. With a thrust of his hips, he gestured for you to move back so he could continue diligently removing the last of your clothing.

The moment your last inch of skin emerged from the confines of the fabric, Erik gently nudged you to recline. You should have felt more shy or apprehensive about being bare and vulnerable beneath him, yet the only sensation that coursed through you was the fire that blazed within your core. You let out a soft whine about no longer being able to remain on top of him, but your grievances were swiftly silenced as his hands swept you up, swiftly manoeuvring you beneath him.

“Wait, can I see you too?” You asked, hurriedly sitting up before he had the chance to properly position himself above you. He seemed taken aback by your eagerness.

“Are you sure? I’m nothing special to look at, don’t feel-“

“Take your shirt off!” You demanded.

Erik seemed even more speechless than you thought possible. His eyes were blown wide in astonishment as if you had begun conversing in a long-forgotten, extinct tongue. While somewhat entertained by his disoriented state, you delicately extended your hand and commenced the task of unfastening the buttons of his nightshirt with the utmost precision and unwavering determination, as if you’d done this many times before. Even if that couldn’t be less inaccurate.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he reminded you, “It’s okay to go slow.”

Slow was a word that had no place in your dictionary at this present moment. However, you eased your grasp and lessened the ferocity of your actions, aiming to appear slightly less forceful in your demeanour.

After the last button popped free, you hurriedly removed the garment from him. Discarding it to the side, you reclined slowly, unable to tear your gaze away. His figure exuberated a powerful presence, every inch meticulously sculpted as if by the hand of a master artisan. Though littered with small scars and scratches, the striking juxtaposition between his celestial physique and his disfigured visage was utterly captivating, leaving you utterly intrigued.

He could feel your eyes penetrating him, and he resisted every urge screaming at him to shrink away. He was done hiding from you, he wanted to feel the warmth of you enveloping him, holding him, loving him until the day it was no longer possible. He wanted to give you all of him and never let go. He was done with thinking he didn’t deserve to be loved wholly, because you were right here offering everything he never believed he could possess. You had defied all of his meagre expectations and made him a new man.

You were so pliant and pure beneath him, the rise and fall of your chest and the slight nibble on your bottom lip betraying the hidden worry within. He wasted no time in leaning forward above you, his lips desperate as they sought to kiss away every fear and trace of hesitation you harboured. He bestowed a trail of delicate kisses down your forehead, across your cheeks, and along the graceful curve of your neck. His fervent kisses then graced your shoulders, tracing a path around your collarbones, each touch so delicate and reverent, until finally reaching the soft expanse of your chest.

His lips hovered, waiting for the right moment to strike and send you into a frenzy of pleasure and bliss. He bestowed tender kisses upon the delicate curvature of your breasts, attending closely to the sounds that escaped your parted lips. He observed the signals your body conveyed, observing the hastened rhythm of your breath and the involuntary movement of your legs, the way you were drawing them closer to create friction where you craved it. His own longing became unmistakable, his cock standing tall and achingly rigid, tantalizingly grazing against your abdomen.

His mouth was progressively nearing your nipples, delicately encircling your areola and occasionally darting out his tongue to deliver a teasing lick. Despite his inexperience, he performed with an air of seasoned confidence, as though he had engaged in such intimate encounters countless times before. He knew exactly where to lick, kiss and touch to elicit the most erotic responses from you. His lips slowly closed around your nipple, testing the waters with light sucking and flicks of his tongue before experimentally grazing it with his teeth, his cock turning red and angry from how much blood was coursing through his veins.

You cried out at the peculiar sensation, quickly calling out for him to not be too rough with his teeth. He nodded against you, his tussled hair tickling your skin as he consumed himself with teasing and playing with your breasts. It felt so scandalous and immoral the way he played with you, the way his hands caressed and pressed against you as he familiarized himself with the curves of your body.

As his fervor increased, your sensitive buds responded with heightened sensitivity. The intense and eager caresses caused your nipples to swell, becoming puffy and tender. The sensation was so overwhelming that tears threatened to well up in your eyes, the stimulation evoking a sharp, piercing ache. Eventually, you found yourself asking him to stop, and he promptly complied upon hearing you.

"Are you alright?" He was panting, saliva coating the surroundings of his mouth.

You nearly laughed, but could only manage a whimsical giggle. The sight of him so concerned yet utterly spent at the same time stirred emotions within you that you dared not confess. Your essence overflowed, moistening your inner thighs as it trickled out like a stream. The influence your lover had on you was profound, surpassing anything you had ever imagined. Even the most daring of literature that you’d read did not evoke such a powerful surge of arousal and longing within you.

"I'm perfect," you smiled, "but my breasts were beginning to hurt, and the feeling was becoming much too overwhelming. Besides, I'd like to return the favour."

You sprung up, lifting your back off the bed before he even had time to brainstorm his response. You jumped at him, twisting both of you until he was back beneath you. You gave him a sloppy kiss before pulling away, venturing down until you reached his shaft. It was longer than you expected. Your old, more outspoken friends who boasted of their premarital escapades always mentioned men's genitalia to be around four or five inches, but Erik's seemed more like six or seven. His girth seemed to align well with their descriptions, so you decided he must just be a bit more gifted in the length department. You gulped.

"What are you doing? Please, just focus on yourself. I need nothing in return."

You shook your head teasingly, rolling your eyes with a small smirk on your face. The vivid images that had danced in your mind about how on earth that was supposed to fit inside you were quickly dismissed. You gathered all the saliva you could muster in your mouth, spitting it onto your hand. You’d read about that in a book once.

Erik looked utterly astounded, captivated by the strings of saliva that cascaded from your lips. He was about to inquire about your intentions and where the destination of that saliva globule was going to be, but his curiosity was quickly satisfied when your delicate fingers enfolded around his manhood and you tentatively began stroking him up and down. Your movements lacked the refined cadence of experienced hands, occasionally faltering in rhythm and fluctuating in pressure. Yet through perseverance, you eventually established a steady and pleasurable pace, accompanied by a grip that elicited delightful sensations and heightened pleasure.

Sighs of ecstasy escaped his lips, his eyes fluttering closed as he became enveloped in the sensation of your caress. He felt a stirring deep within his abdomen, a tension coiling tighter and tighter until it would inevitably release. His skin glowed with perspiration as he tilted his head back, his moans growing louder and louder, harmonizing with the sound of your saliva squelching as your hand traversed his shaft.

He was no stranger to desire and impure thoughts, long before he had met you he still yearned and had fantasies of what it would feel like to touch and be touched by another. However, he refrained from indulging in such pleasures, deeming it a frivolous waste of his time. Little did he know that the allure and intensity of self-pleasure had eluded him. Oh, how he wished he had been more enlightened back then.

Something was building inside him. Unaware, you continued your steady pace, looking into his eyes with a sweet smile. He felt something akin to a rubber band stretching in his abdomen, reaching its snapping point, pulling further apart. Instinctively, his hand reached up to grab your free hand, squeezing with a force that you knew would cause pain the next day.

Your arm was beginning to seize up, your muscles cramping worse than you’d ever experienced before. His hand practically crushing yours didn’t help, and eventually, you had to relent and withdraw. A frustrated grunt escaped his throat, his eyes clenching shut as his hips bucked. The snapping sensation in his abdomen gradually subsided, the build-up disappearing as if it were never there to begin with.

"That was... different," he heaved.

"Good different?" You tentatively asked.

"Good different," he confirmed.

A profound stillness enveloped both of you as Erik struggled to regain his composure, his erection throbbing with a vengeance. He clenched his jaw, the distressing ache seeping into his bones, sending tingles down his limbs and leaving his mind in a dizzying haze. The rush of blood roared in his ears as he lay there, gradually returning to the realm of consciousness.

You were filled with trepidation. Had you committed a grievous error? Why did he seem so discomposed? His eyes were shut, and his chest rose and fell with alarming rapidity. He appeared to be in a state of distress. The books you read had failed to prepare you for such a sight!

"Are you alright, love?" You fussed, cupping his cheeks in your hands in concern, "Do you need anything? Water? To stop?"

"No, no, no," he instantly denied, waving his hand. His arm came to drop over his eyes. "I'm just... a little overwhelmed, I suppose."

Hearing that he wasn't about to enter sudden cardiac arrest, you threw your leg over his stomach. Your warmth pressed deliciously against his well-toned abdominal muscles, sending electrifying sensations up your bones. He appeared more at ease now, his hand that wasn't thrown across his face reaching up to caress the skin of your thigh with his fingertips. Quivers reverberated through your body, as if a gentle breeze had swept through the room, carrying with it a delightful shiver of pleasure.

You leaned forward, pressing your lips against his with utmost delicacy. His other hand joined in, but instead of gently caressing your thighs, he grasped your flesh firmly, guiding your hips in a swaying motion. Your mind turned to mush, the undulating movement causing your senses to ignite. Sparks flickered between your bodies, every touch sending pleasurable jolts through your form as he manipulated you to his desires.

Every pitiful moan and whimper was swallowed by his intoxicating mouth, every breath shared intermingling into one. He kept you restrained at a steady pace, even as you attempted to push against it and yearned for a more vigorous rhythm. One amused glance sent a rush of crimson to your cheeks, a blush of embarrassment that betrayed you.

"Can I put it in?" You whispered. You wanted to get your upper hand back and fast.

He paused for a moment, his pupils dilating and a gasp escaping his lips as he absorbed your words. His eyes turned upwards towards yours, staring deep into your soul as if attempting to decipher your thoughts. His unyielding gaze was slightly intimidating, and you found yourself questioning if you had spoken inappropriately.

"If you wish," he replied.

Sucking in your lower lip, you cautiously descended. The sensation of his tip brushing against you made you unconsciously bite down, feeling the connection of your most intimate parts. He elevated himself to a seated position, pressing his arousal even closer to your entrance. The wetness that coated his tip, combined with your own slickness, allowed for ample lubrication as it trickled down.

He gave you one final questioning look, to which you responded with a confident nod. He returned the gesture in understanding. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you slowly lowered yourself until the tip naturally found its way to your opening, gently teasing and exploring. You bit down on your lip so hard that you could taste blood, but you pressed on. His hand reached down to assist in guiding himself inside you, and both of you gasped as his bulbous tip slipped past your entrance.

The sensation was indescribable, pleasure and discomfort waging a battle as your body came to a halt. Erik pressed tender kisses along your shoulder, his hand resting on your back to ease your tension. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced, the feeling of your purity being tested by his manhood was intense and sent a fiery heat rushing through your core. Your face twisted as you summoned the strength to sink further, enduring the initial sting as best you could.

"We can stop at any time, just say the word," Erik gently reminded you, nestling his head against you as he patiently waited for you to adjust. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt for indulging in such pleasure while you were clearly in pain. He made a concentrated effort to conceal his contorted expressions and stifle his moans and grunts.

Finally, you managed to lower yourself fully into his lap. His cock was nestled deep within your intimate depths. You took deep breaths, determined to overcome the discomfort and replace it with the exhilaration you knew could await. It felt as if you were being impaled, your arms clinging to him with increasing intensity as you willed yourself to relax and surrender to the sensations that enveloped you.

You were practically restraining him, keeping him trapped inside of you to the extent that he felt unable to move even if he desired to. The tightness was approaching discomfort, his soothing and calming touches attempting to coax you into relaxing your muscles and embracing the sensation.

After a few moments of acclimation and striving to ease your muscles, you soon sensed the inferno below gradually transform into a thrilling excitement. A surge of adrenaline coursed through you as you comprehended your current location and the nature of your actions.

Testing out the waters, you gingerly lifted your hips, wincing at the sensation of your walls contracting as you raised yourself further off of him. His swollen tip caught on your entrance, prompting you to cease ascending. Erik released his grip around you, reclining back on his hands to observe the spectacle.

The eye contact was overwhelming. He dared not divert his gaze from you for a single moment, your partially closed eyes battling to remain open as you lowered yourself back down. A strangled cry threatened to escape your lips as the exquisite stretch overwhelmed your senses, your mind empty and your vision wavering. His tip was nearly grazing your cervix. Every fibre of your being was consumed by the sensation, your mind black and vision wavering.

You pushed yourself up and down a few more times, willing yourself to adjust and adapt. Gradually, you found your rhythm, moving with grace as your walls glided along his cock. The sound of your flesh meeting echoed softly in the air as you fervently rode him. He was buried deep within you, overwhelming your senses and leaving you dizzy with desire. Erik wasn’t any better off.

"Oh my god," you whined, fucking yourself on him as if you had never been more desperate for anything in your life. "I've been dreaming of this for so long."

"Me too," Erik grunted.

Your breasts undulated in perfect harmony with your motions, practically demanding Erik to divert his gaze towards them. In any other circumstance, you would have teasingly chastised him for his audacity, yet a deeper blush coloured your cheeks as you beheld him intently studying your form. He reclined further upon the bed, his weight supported by his elbows, his eyes filled with a fervent longing.

Your hands instantly found purchase on his chest, using him as leverage to move faster and rougher on top of him. He was engrossed in the way your body moved and responded to him, his hoarse moans only serving to make you even more hot and bothered. Your faltering stamina almost made you want to burst into tears, because the last thing you wanted to do was stop.

Erik soon caught on to your stuttering motions, noticing the way your hair stuck to your forehead from the copious amount of sweat.

"I love you, I love you so much," you cried, sniffling from the overload of emotions that were bubbling to the surface. The love, the infatuation, the relief, the pleasure, the euphoria- everything was rising inside of you abruptly and without warning.

"I love you too," he moaned, relinquishing his elbows to rest upon the bed. He grabbed your hips, bringing you to a pause. You sobbed. "Are you getting tired?"

"No, I'm perfectly fine," you protested, attempting to resist his hold in order to resume your agitated movements. He would've rolled his eyes at your stubbornness if he wasn't distracted by the feeling of your hole swallowing his cock.

He forcefully pulled you down, pressing your body against his chest as he exerted his dominance. With a swift motion, he flipped you over, positioning himself on top. In the process, he momentarily withdrew from your cunt, but without hesitation, he re-entered your inviting warmth. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, and your arms enveloped him as you surrendered to him, reclining in submission.

Your mouth formed a perfect 'o' as you endured his pounding, setting a fervent and punishing cadence as he plunged inside of you with all the strength he could summon. Your world spun, your lungs yearning for air as you let out moans and cries with every motion he executed.

His whispered curses and sounds of pleasure were hot against your ear, every slide in and out enhanced by how close he was pressed against you. It was intoxicating, his embrace crushing you so tight that you couldn't distinguish where your body met the mattress and where his body met yours. Everything dissolved into one.

"Does this feel good?" Erik questioned, pace merciless as he pulled away to look at you directly.

"Yes! Yes it does!" You wailed.

"Who's making you feel good?" He growled.

"You! You!"

"What's my name?"

"Erik! Oh!"

"That's right," He let out a deep and guttural groan, diverting his gaze from you for a fleeting moment. With a firm grip on your thighs, he effortlessly folded you, positioning your knees so close to your ears that it bordered on the extreme. "Who do you belong to?" he gruffly inquired, his voice laced with a hint of possessiveness.

"Ah! You, Erik! You!"

"You," thrust, "belong," thrust, "to," thrust, "me."

Ecstasy surged through your being, the sensation of being filled to the brim overwhelmed your senses. Your every nerve tingled and quivered, your body contorting and your eyes fluttering in pure pleasure. Your walls fluttered around him as you uttered his name in breathless gasps, your voice choked with desire. The tightening in your core reached a crescendo before finally giving way to an intense release.

Erik was going crazy. The feeling of you contracting and spasming around him made his body tremor as his desperate pace transitioned into aimless jerking. His resolve came undone as white ribbons shot out of him, painting your walls white. Your cunt was practically milking him.

"My god," Erik sighed, huffing as he recovered from the aftershocks of his climax.

You were in no better a state. Tears streaked down your face, and sweat had practically glued your bodies together. Erik withdrew himself from you, guiding your limp legs back onto the bed. He laid beside you, his form exhausted and his arousal gradually subsiding, as you both took a moment to regain composure.

You swallowed, surprised at how parched your throat was. "Was it good?... Was I good?"

"Better than I ever imagined," he affirmed.

It didn't take long for Erik to rise, hastily donning his nightshirt before exiting the chamber and venturing into the lagoon. In a swift manner, he reappeared, clutching a moist towel in his grasp. With delicate precision, he gently glided it over your sensitive areas, meticulously cleansing the semen that had spilled out of you, ensuring that no traces of your sin were left behind.

A damp patch had formed beneath you, causing the fabric to become stained and the bed linens quite uncomfortable to rest upon. Erik gently lifted you and settled you onto the chair positioned in front of his desk, attending to the task of replacing the soiled bedsheets so that you would not have to sleep upon the concoction of your arousal and his release.

"I'll prepare baths for us tomorrow. For now, I think it's best for you to get some sleep," Erik tapped your cheek, laughing as your droopy eyelids perked up at his touch.

You grumbled at him, your dishevelled hair and pouting lips evoking a sense of charm that made his heart soar. He scooped you up once more, cradling you in his arms with care as he escorted you back to your shared bed. With haste, you scurried beneath the fresh linen, seeking solace and warmth within the confines of the quilt that shielded your immodest frame from the chill that seemed to permeate the air. Erik casually discarded the used towel into a corner alongside the dirtied sheets, joining you on the bed and tucking himself away behind you with his back to the wall.

He drew you closer, his arm slipping beneath your neck as he nestled you against his side. You gazed up at him, a smile gracing your lips, but inside, a vexed frustration swelled as you silently cursed his attire. Why must he remain clothed while you, in this moment, were so undressed?

"If I'm naked, then you're naked," you playfully stated.

"Is that so?"

"Yes, strip right now."

He complied silently with your request, and your internal vexation turned to jubilation as his flesh made contact with yours. You resumed your former position, nestling yourself once again into his embrace as your wearied eyes finally succumbed to the burden of your fatigue.

Then it was ruined.

"Will you marry me?" Erik implored, his voice filled with anticipation and a touch of desperation. As your disapproving gaze met his, he hastily continued, "We've already consummated our love. What's the harm? We agreed on this months ago."

Snickering under your breath, you retorted, "Get me a ring first, then I'll consider."

The comforting hum of Erik's complaints and attempts at convincing you to please please marry him carried you softly and sweetly into a deep sleep.

#phantom of the opera #poto #erik poto #erik the phantom #erik destler #cherik #gerik #gaston leroux #phantom of the opera musical #musical #phantom of the opera x reader #poto x reader #fluff #smut #angst #erik x reader #erik destler x reader #1990 phantom of the opera #2004 phantom of the opera

[xo-bug-ox]

Ahh hi! I just wanted to say I LOVED your last Erik fic and I was wondering if you could write another? If you can’t that’s fine :)

Maybe him and the reader have a cottage and it’s after everything he’s been through and they’re finally happy and just spend a quiet evening together? Feel free to change anything and if you can write this tysm in advance <3

Omg what Bugs is writing a fic again?? For the first time in over a month?? Crazy I know, but here I am. And yes ofc love!!

Strawberries

Erik Lehnsherr x reader

Warnings: none that I’m aware of!!!

The air was cool as you lay down the soft blanket onto the grass in your back garden, you sat on it calling for your husband to come join you, he came out holding a book in one hand and a cup of tea in the other, Erik sat down on the other side of the blanket to you. As he opened the book you crawled over to him cuddling up into his torso, “now where did we leave of?” He asked. You thought for a moment, “chapter 12 I think” you hummed reaching over and popping a strawberry into your mouth pulling out the leaves and placing them into a separate bowl. Erik smiled down at you before taking a deep breath in and beginning to read aloud to you. His voice was soft and calm as he read, you gazed up at him watching him speak for a brief moment before gazing towards your little house.

It was a quaint little cottage, stone walls with vines crawling up its side and windowsills, you knew you should cut them before they covered the actual window itself but you couldn’t bring yourself to ruin perfect scene. Eriks chest fell up and down with each breath he took as he spoke, you continued making your way through the small bowl of strawberries repeating the same motions of pulling out the leaves and placing them in the bowl until you’d finished. Erik had stopped talking, “You stopped” you said looking up at him, “well I didn’t think you were listening, plus we finished two chapters” he smiled kissing the top of your head gently. Your face flushed smiling at Erik.

“Have you done something different with your hair?” You asked pulling back from his chest to inspect him, he sat still for a moment before a gentle laugh fell from his lips, “it’s just messy from today that’s all. Why? Do you like it like this?” He asked running his hands through his hair, you nodded happily telling him, “look pretty, it suits you as well”. Erik blushed before he felt a drop of rain it his hand, he looked up eyes meeting the deep grey rain clouds above the two of you, you followed his action feeling the rain start to come down on you two. You laughed slightly picking up the blanket and small bowls of fruit as you and Erik ran back instead laughing together.

You placed the bowls and blanket on the table looking out the window at the rain that was now pouring down, “it’s raining cats and dogs out there” Erik hummed wrapping his arms around your waist, chin resting atop your head as the two of you watched out the window. “I love cats and dogs”

#x reader #screaming crying throwing things #fluff #asks #fluffy #i love writing fanfic #erik lehnsherr #erik lehnsherr x reader #magneto #magneto x reader #magneto x men #cottage vibes #fix it fic #he deserves happiness #let this man rest #let him be happy #please god please let him be happy #I literally haven’t posted a fic in over a month wtf

[textsfromthefifthbasement]

POTO Fluff Week 2024 Masterlist

Fanfiction

Garnier Manor by @brendadaaedestler, rated G, E/C

no less brittle then beautiful by winter_writes, rated T, E/C

The Artist by me, rated G, E/C

beyond words by @kotaka-kun, rated G, E/C

Things One Finds in the Shadows by @nerdywriter36, rated G, E/C

The Ocean in a Siren's Eyes by @brendadaaedestler, rated G, E/C

Brass and Red Velvet by winter_writes, rated T, E/C

borrow your kitchen by @kotaka-kun, rated G, E/C

Automata by me, rated G, E/C

Illusion's Domain by @nerdywriter36, rated G, E/C

Loneliness by me, rated G, pharoga

The Amazing Spider-friend by @intothemertensverse, rated G, E/C

care not by @kotaka-kun, rated T, E/C

The Rosy Hours by @nerdywriter36 and @brendadaaedestler, rated G, E/C

An Angel's Confidante by @enigmawritesstuff, rated G, E/C

his duty as a knight by @kotaka-kun, rated G, E/R

I've Become Rather Fond of Fools by @nerdywriter36 and @brendadaaedestler, rated G, E/C

her Erik by @kotaka-kun, rated G, E/C

Love Goes On and On by @brendadaaedestler, rated G, E/C

Differential by me, rated T, E/C

So Familiar a Gleam by @nerdywriter36, rated G, E/C

the smell of blood by @kotaka-kun, rated T, E/C

What the Forest Hides by @nerdywriter36 and @brendadaaedestler, rated G, E/C

Snow White Domino by winter_writes, rated T, E/C

The Tower by me, rated G, E/C

a sense of hope and joy by @kotaka-kun, rated T, gen

The Voice in the Stables by @brendadaaedestler, rated G, E/C

Trick and Treat by @thewanderingspacefish, rated M, E/C

Spirit Box by me, Rated T, E/C

Winged Victory by @nerdywriter36, rated G, E/C

Fanart

Christine as American Girl's Caroline by @britishchick09

BG3-Inspired Sims by me

#poto fluff week 2024 #phantom of the opera #the phantom of the opera #e/c #e/r #uncommon aus #pharoga #erik #christine daae #raoul de chagny