#Erik destler x reader
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#slashers#slashers x reader#michael myers x reader#jason voorhees x reader#ghostface x reader#pennywise x reader#erik destler x reader#memes#horror#billy loomis x reader#stu macher x reader#og michael x reader#jason x reader#phantom of the opera x reader
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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
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PHANTOM OF THE OPERA LOVERS
ERIK SIMPS
I need y’all to know there is a ASMR channel out on YouTube that genuinely does good Erik role play and I love his work- honestly fucking amazing, he sounds genuine and his acting isn’t over the top or anything genuinely good role play ASMR- the channel name is dervampireprince, he has three or four Erik role play audios each one is 30 minutes or more and I adore each one- literally feeding my delulu- please give him love!
#erik destler#erik poto#phantom of the opera#erik destler x reader#erik x reader#phantom of the opera x reader#phantom x reader
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My lord i would give you my firstborn for more Erik content, hes literally my babygirl.
Hello my darling!! I decided to do some cuddling headcannons for you as well as some random tidbit headcannons!!! {it’s extremely unorganized} this can be read as any Erik of your choosing, but some specific phantoms are mentioned once or twice!
I’m not super proud of this, but I felt like I had to feed you guys something.
I am not officially back to my full tumblr writing, but I am hoping to make a steady return! Also, I made a Lerik bot on Character.ai if you guys want me to un-private it and post the link. :)
When you cuddle with Erik, no matter which version, you basically have to plan on taking the first or second half of the day off.
He’s very touch starved, so he doesn’t like letting you go unless he absolutely has to, and even then Erik will probably throw a fit of some kind, too desperate for your touch to even think about how it may affect the rest of his opera house.
He’s not ashamed about voicing his need for you either; if you try to leave, he will drop down to his knees and blubber like a child, begging for you to stay and love on him. If it’s a specific person that is causing you to leave, Erik will threaten to kill them! It doesn’t matter if it is the managers, Meg and Madam Giry, or even Christine (should she stay there after the whole final lair scene and the phantoms activities die down)! It doesn’t matter! They don’t matter! The only thing that matters is you and your love! Erik needs you, (Y/N)! He needs you to love him until he can’t think! For you to cuddle him and kiss him like he’s your beloved pet!
Concerning you being friends with Christine, Erik absolutely despises it! She had already abandoned him for the Vicomte, she can’t take you away from him too! She mustn’t! No, if Christine even tried to advise you away from him, he would make sure she wishes she never approached you!
Please, if he starts on one of his tangents about you leaving him for someone else, make love to him and tell him what a good boy he is. It’s a sure fire way to calm him down, and Erik, even though he is likely significantly older than you, loves being coddled and reassured that you won’t leave him.
you will find that almost all versions of Erik prefer to be held rather than just hold you, with the exception of Cherik. It’s not because they’re selfish! It’s because Erik needs you to hold him in order for things to feel okay, and it feels good that you would hold him of your own free will and kindness. If he was the one completely holding you, he would be worried you didn’t actually want to be close to him!
To expand on that a little more, Cherik is the only phantom that prefers to be the big spoon. All the others want you to press against them from behind and wrap your arms around their waist, pressing kisses into the sensitive skin of their neck. {as mentioned in one of my previous posts, Kerik is a horny bastard and will probably start getting hard if you’re not careful.}
Get them to lay on top of you.
Do it. Well… do it if you can handle them crying from emotional release, anyway.
Laying on top of you will give Erik the feeling of maternal care and nurturing he never received as a child, and it’s bound to make him cry from the sheer love he feels for you and the feeling of love you’re giving him, and even then the abandonment issues and childhood trauma just overflows from him like a fountain of sadness.
For versions of Erik where his deformities are a little more open and wet, like Meriks, you’ll have to reassure him that you don’t mind touching it. That the feeling of his open flesh against your skin doesn’t bother you, and that you’d love to cuddle him regardless.
Phantoms with deformities like Meriks are almost always between a rock and a hard place when it comes to cuddling you because on one hand, they’re worried about you seeing their deformities up close and so they’ll want to lay their bad side on your chest so you can’t see it as well. On the other hand, they’re paranoid about you finding the feeling of their deformities gross against your skin and making you uncomfortable.
It’s a lot to unpack when you cuddle Erik, or even give him attention in general, but you will find that it is well worth the effort. Erik loves you and would burn down the entire world to make you smile, and yet he finds himself feeling he is unworthy of even mere scraps of your attention and love, but you always reassure him otherwise. :)
#yandere erik destler#erik destler x reader#erik destler#phantom of the opera#phantom of the opera x reader#yandere phantom of the opera#yandere poto
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Help him make the music of the night
#this is my final battle cry at trying to get better at sketching#I’ll be making more#phantom of the opera#phantom of the opera fanart#phantom of the opera erik#phantom erik#erik phantom of the opera#poto erik#leroux erik#erik fanart#erik phantom#erik poto#erik the phantom#phantom broadway#phantom of the opera x reader#gaston leroux#leroux phantom#poto#erik destler#erik x reader#opera ghost#phantom of the opera art#charles dance erik#1990 phantom of the opera#erik x oc#phantom fanart#erik destler x reader#poto broadway#poto x reader#poto fanart
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This is giving HEAVY Phantom x Reader vibes.
#Erik Destler x Reader#Erik Destler 1989#Erik Destler#Erik (Phantom) x Reader#Erik x Reader#Phantom of the Opera x Reader
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Bitches be like "if I were Christine I just would have chosen Erik" like he wasn't a murderer, stalker and kidnapper (its me I'm bitches)
#erik destler x oc#erik destler#erik destler x reader#phantom of the opera x reader#phantom of the opera#the phantom of the opera
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haiii.. i stumbled upon ur blog and might i respectfully say I am DIGGING it u literally seem so cool!?!! i also saw ur requests were open, so i wanted to send something!!! umm i am also Too shy to do this on my main. So.
cld i mayb request headcanons erik (2004 movie ver!!!) with a fem s/o who's rlly introverted, soft-spoken and generally scared of people (social anxiety!!).. just general relationship headcanons and such!!! sorry this request is So long! if you'd like, it can be a mix of sfw + nsfw. ty ❗❗❤️
2004 erik x soft/shy reader
synopsis: headcanons with erik x a shy and soft-spoken reader!
characters: gerik (2004 erik)
a/n: tysm <3 and also ty for being my first poto request!! and yea i felt that so hard. i almost never req on main either 😭 also ur request is not long at all dont even worry ab it <3
notes: little tiny bit of nsfw bonus at the end...?!?,@
erik, of all people, knows how that feels.
secretly, he likes that you don't really like being around people as often because that means you'll spend more time with him, down in his lair.
it may be selfish of him... but he needs u :(
but in any case, you end up spending a lot more time down with him than anywhere else, bc that's where it feels safe
really it just gets to a point where people wonder if there are TWO opera ghosts now.
he finds it funny to have you sign off on his letters too
O.G. in his elegant cursive and O.G. II in your loopy, small hand.
he takes you up to box five to watch performances together. sometimes he studies your features and the way you laugh, clap, gasp in surprise at the scenes. he finds it endearing.
especially when it's his own, self-written opera. his pride soars sm
nsfw
he's so soft and sweet and patient
u almost wanna cry
he stops and asks if everything is okay very frequently after realizing you never stop him to ask for anything.
he worries that you're in an uncomfortable position or something and you won't tell him!
lots and lots of praise
you're his perfect beautiful angel <3
sweet and gentle with u always
#erik poto#erik the phantom#poto 2004#poto#phantom of the opera#the phantom of the opera#gerik#gerik poto#christine daae#erik x reader#erik destler x reader#poto x reader
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Hello! If you’re taking headcanon requests, may I please request headcanons for what Count Dracula & Erik the Phantom would be like as husbands?
dracula and erik as husbands !
✧ warnings — some mentions of death and possible spoilers for dracula and phantom of the opera. also like 2 sexual jokes i think
✧ additional info — i got so so excited by this request omg <3 if u wanna id rlly appreciate it if u sent me more requests for phantom of the opera and classic monsters!! also not really specific versions of them but i mainly had the book versions in mind
✧ m.list — nav.
ೃ༄ erik destler
he wouldn’t wait to marry you
like at all
the second you show him you’re willing to be in a relationship with him and he’s sure you won’t leave him he’s already planning your wedding
of course if you wanted to take it more slowly he might be a little impatient but he’d try his best for you :)
but he’d be so happy if u were ready to get married as soon as possible
the sad thing is he’d get so stressed while trying to plan it because he’d want it to be absolutely perfect because that’s what he didn’t get with christine
and he’d try to convince you not to worry about it or help plan the wedding becaus he wants it to be a surprise for you
however he’d talk to you about what you want <3
so unfortunately he doesn’t know a lot of people 😭 so your wedding audience consists of daroga, mme giry, and maybe christine and raoul if ur lucky and manage to convince them (but they’ll be a little on edge)
and u can invite ur family if they’d be accepting of erik!
once y’all are married it’s so sweet and romantic ohmygod
he’d make u breakfast and dinner every single day, even if he’s had a particularly bad day
he just loves doing things for you
he’d also love writing even more songs and sometimes even entire operas for you or about you, you’re his muse
before he was able to take breaks from bis work to focus on you for awhile
but now you’re married he just can’t be away from you for two minutes
will sit on the floor and talk to u while u shower
or he showers with u
his love language is spontaneously twirling u around and redoing ur wedding dance in the most random places
also carrying u to ur bed if u fall asleep on him or somewhere else, before marriage he’d just let u sleep there and make sure he doesn’t wake u up
such a sweetheart <3
ೃ༄ count dracula
takes his time to marry you
but that’s only because he takes a lot of time working out when and where to propose and shit
and then probably has the wedding planned before you even say yes
which obviously you do
he’d be a little cocky abt u saying yes ngl cause he already knew u would
but the wedding itself obviously takes place at night and mainly other vampires will show up, but he won’t let them remotely near you assuming he hasn’t turned you yet
if he has then go talk to them!! there’s no risk of u dying or getting turned by someone else!!
he’d also rlly like cooking for u and shit since he canonically had to sprint around his castle to make it seem like he had butlers or whatever 😭😭
how good is fucking amazing btw
like god damn
and obviously he has a comfortable ass vampire bed that he’d let u put 60 pillows on if u want
he’d also like have a thing for ur hair no matter how short or long it is
he likes standing behind u and running his hands through it when u do literally anything for funsies
and his fingers are really pretty and long and cold so they feel nice
he also brushes it a lot esp in the mornings
he also doesn’t even look another persons way when he’s with u
ever.
and his brides are now just. draculas sisters or wtv 😭
unless u want them to be ur wives too he won’t complain
as much as he loves you there’s time where he js like. wants personal time to go kill people think
id also imagine ur very close with renfield
like draculas kinda mean to him but ur rlly nice to him <3
like for example waving at him when u see him or just going “hi renfield!!”
renfields probably the one who found u ngl
i can’t think of anything else for him mb pookie 😔 i’ll add to this later
#mars writing 🧈#dracula#dracula x reader#dracula novel#phantom#phantom of the opera#erik destler#poto#phantom of the opera headcanons#erik destler x reader#dracula (marlees version 🩸)#phantom (marlees version 🎻)
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Despite All My Rage I Am Still Just A Rat In A Cage
Erik Destler(The Phantom) x GN!Reader
Warnings/notes: Mentions to past abuse (of Erik), inferiority complex (Erik). This is a drabble+headcanon post
Erik who’s heart aches when you inform him you won’t be in the lair for days, how is he meant to pass the time without his angel? Perhaps writing ballads of sadness, the compositions getting tears on them from how much emotion he plays on his organ
Erik who cries when you return with gifts for him, he doesn’t deserve them, he begs you not to waste your energy and when you argue he only gets more upset.
“I am not worth this! I beg of you please.. I can not accept such a gift, not for such an unworthy monster..”
Erik who finally gives in after your pleading, sniffling while his hands shake to retrieve whatever it is you have given him. His eyes stinging as he opens it, vision going cloudy before the tears start again.
Erik who falls to his knees, inevitably scuffing them as he clutches the gift in his hands. ‘He is not worthy!’ He repeats, you sit down beside him, reaching out to remove the gift so you can hug him without it breaking.
“No mother please—!” He shouts through tears, not yet realizing his mistake, he’s scared to lose it. A precious gift given to him by his angel, he can not lose it!
Erik who despite clutching his gift with all his might drops it the second you embrace him, he is too shocked to wrap his arms around you in return—well only for a moment, as soon as he is fully aware of what is happening his arms are around you, gripping so hard one could guess you were his next victim. However that’s not the case, he simply longs for your comfort; longs for your warmth, the warmth he was deprived of a child and deprived of up until recently.
Erik who calms down with the slow rocking of your bodies, feeling your heart beat—the heat from your skin, the comforting words from your lips. It all feels fake, like he is not worth it, but still he clings to it. For if it is fake, for if it is just a dream; he would condemn himself to death so he could live in this dream.
#erik destler#phantom of the opera#poto#the phantom x reader#erik destler x reader#x reader#reverse comfort#gender nuetral reader#female reader#male reader#erik the phantom#phantom of the opera x reader#angst x reader#comfort x reader#erik x reader
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𝒟𝑒𝓁𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓉𝑒
(No TW just comfort)
There he stood across the room not really grasping why you so suddenly came to him without uttering a word even in response to his own, that is until he saw the look in your eyes. His gaze soften upon seeing your melancholy expression, the way your head hung low, and your hands dejectedly falling at your sides. Initially, he was worried he had upset you but upon observing you he knew it wasn’t that, you had something much more pressing going on. Although he couldn’t quite read exactly what was causing you such distress he just knew the emotions you had felt by one look at the way you carried yourself. You hadn’t dared to meet his stare knowing that if you did so everything would come crashing down at once, and the weight of the burden you were carrying would become too much for you to bare. You refused to let the pools that were building in your eyes overflow in front of him. He noticed you holding back, it slightly pained him as he would never want you to feel the need to put up a front around him. He slowly made his way towards you, his eyes fixated on your gloomy expression. Although Erik wasn’t one to typically initiate large amounts of physical affection in the relationship as you both were still fairly new to this however at this moment none of that mattered. All that matters is that you’re in front of him in need of his soft touch and protective grasp. He slowly reached for your hand taking it into his own then lifting it softly to his lips all the while maintaining eye contact with you even if you tried looking away. The way you so helplessly stared at him absolutely broke his heart, he knew you struggled with so many things all at once but to see how truly distraught you are in this moment made it all more real. He stared softly before gently wrapping his arms around you his right hand subconsciously guiding itself to the back of your head to pull you into his embrace, and the other slowly running up and down your back.
“Everything is okay now, I promise you my love I’m here.” He spoke so softly and delicately while running his hand down the back of your head. This was enough to set you over the edge, tears falling rampant from your now reddened cheeks as you raised your hands to grasp the material of his shirt from his chest your other hand grasping the back.
“I’ll protect you I promise, share your burden with me Angel don’t hold back it’s only me.” His voice was so soothing to the burning of your heart, he was so genuine and was happy to comfort you the way you have with him. His delicate words and voice caused you to bury your face into his neck just so you could feel more surrounded by his protective presence. Recalling everything that had caused you to be this way your shoulders shook as you now audibly sobbed into him. It was so much emotion at once, the overwhelming feeling of affection you’re getting from Erik, the sadness you held in your heart, and your gratitude for finally having someone to genuinely try to soothe the wounds of your heart.
Upon hearing your audible sobs he softly shushes you while pulling your body impossibly closer to his own.
“When you’re ready tell me what’s going on but for now I’ll just hold onto you until you’ve calmed.” He softly reassured leaving gentle kisses on the side of your head and the tip of your ear. Although you didn’t tell him what was on your mind that night he still stuck beside you and held onto you giving comforting words here and there without forcing anything out of you. He simply stuck by your side the entire night until you fell asleep in his embrace once he had taken you to lie down, your face still buried into the side of his neck while he held you with both arms. Although it was a simple gesture it was truly all you needed and he understood that happily caring for the person he loved more than absolutely anything.
#2004 erik destler#erik destler x reader#erik destler x you#phantom of the opera x reader#2004 Erik Destler x you#2004 Erik destler x reader#gerik x reader#phantom of the opera imagines#phantom of the opera head cannons#Erik destler headcannons#phantom of the opera fanfiction#the phantom of the opera x reader#the phantom x reader#the phantom/reader#erik destler/reader#poto x reader
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~~~~~
~"𝓡𝓮𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓼𝓪𝓵𝓼"~
(Erik Destler x Fem!Reader Fluff)
Summary: Erik had intended to assist you in rehearsing for the next performance. He soon finds he cannot be near you for long without melting in your mere presence.
Warning(s): It is mentioned that the actor the Reader must perform with is perverted (Erik isn't having that dw)
How long it took to write: 4 Hours
~~~~~
The orchestra thundered from above the Phantom's lair, muffled, but loud enough for you and your lover to feel and hear. The world had stopped spinning, this moment in time was the only moment that had ever existed- it felt as though the world had been created just for the two of you. You danced across the floor with the Opera Ghost, Erik, of whose name only was allowed to grace your ears, and to be silenced and secret from all others.
Erik had insisted that he lead your dance rehearsals for this Opera, for seeing you dance lovingly with another man filled his chest with a fit of restricting jealousy so hot that it burned like wildfire. His fury was only heightened further when he had spotted the man earlier, staring at you in a perverted manner just as he had stared at all the other women. Erik would not allow you to be touched by the man longer than you had to on stage.
There was not much room to dance, but it sufficed. Anytime you'd knock a lit candle over, he'd catch the candelabra with a nimble hand without needing to tear his gaze away from your sweet features. His gloved hands guided your movements knowingly, for he had an excellent memory that allowed him to memorize and understand a dance in only a few practices.
After rehearsing the dance three times, Erik had decided he'd grown bored of it. The dramatic steps faded into a basic gentle box step. Erik's gloved hand lifted to smooth back the frizzed baby hairs on your hairline. He leaned in to press his warm lips against your forehead, allowing the kiss to linger. He turned his head to rest his left cheek atop your head. "You dance beautifully. Like an angel."
Your Phantom had compared you to the most heavenly of angels countless times. Although you may have gotten used to it with how often he repeated it, it never lost meaning for him. The masked gentleman truly found you to be the most divine of all. You were his angel, his goddess, his salvation.
You returned his affections by gliding the pads of your fingers tenderly up and down the back of his neck. He suppressed a shudder at the feel of your loving fingertips. How touch-starved he was to shudder at a simple caress. "Thank you," you accepted his sweet compliment humbly, a smile gracing your lips.
~~~~~
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~~~~~
~Love, PinkBoots
#pink's fanfic#poto#phantom of the opera#erik destler x reader#erik destler#phantom of the opera x reader#phantom of the opera 2004#poto 2004#reader insert#fem reader#female reader
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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
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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
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Hi! I have seen your fics that include Erik sucking on reader's nipples. Since stimulating the nipples too much can cause the body to begin to lactate (without being pregnant) after a certain time, I was wondering how Erik would react to causing the reader to milk. Thank you.
The second you start lactating is the second Erik basically becomes permanently affixed to your chest.
Try as you may, you just can’t get Erik’s mouth away from your nipples for more than twenty minutes at a time unless you’re out working in the main theatre, and even then he may beg for you to stop by box five every so often so he can nurse for a few minutes.
Erik, being the way that he is, may actually start to have tantrums of some kind of if he goes too long without nursing, he truly craves to be lovingly nurtured in the ways he missed out on as a child, so letting Erik nurse on your chest is so beyond incredibly intimate and comforting to him that he feels the need to be at your chest at every opportunity.
Erik’s mommy issues are horrendous, so it’s no wonder he’s so needy in your presence, begging you to coddle him like a child and let him drink from your chest.
You know how kittens will knead their momma cat while they nurse? Erik does a similar version of that. If you’re still wearing clothes, Erik will clench his hands around the fabric tightly before releasing and repeating the process. If you aren’t, Erik rubs his hands up and down your sides or hips.
He does this because the repetitive motion helps to soothe him further and also because he just likes feeling you against him.
If you try to pull away before he’s had his fill, Erik is not afraid to whine and cry until you let him latch onto you like a baby again, and Erik is also very prone to absolutely gorging himself on your milk if you don’t stop him.
Ideally, Erik likes to lay on top of you with his lips around your nipple while your hand runs over his head and you coo at him, his eyes half lidded and peering up at you with love.
No matter which version of Erik you’re stuck with, they all have the basic idea that taking so much of your nutrients and not replacing them= bad, so you can be certain Erik will force you to up your water intake and encourage you to eat more.
If you thought that Erik uses nursing solely as a comfort thing and never a sexual thing, you are sorely mistaken.
About half of the time he’s nursing, Erik’s cock will harden and so he’ll start grinding against your legs, trying to find some form of relief.
Position Erik so that you can reach under him and start to pump his cock without separating him from your nipple. He whimpers and moans against you whilst holding you tightly in his arms as he tears up and starts rutting into your hand.
You can bet your soul that this fuels his mommy kink to an extreme.
Musical!Erik
I feel it in my soul that this version of Erik is much more shy when it comes to both his mommy kink, and his need to suckle on your chest.
But once you reassure him that you love him regardless and you’ll indulge him if he simply asks, he’s just as obsessive with it as his book counterpart.
The first time you let him nurse from your chest and milk came out, Erik immediately felt a sense of ease and sleepiness hit him like a carriage. He may have also shed a few tears because of his mommy issues, but he isn’t nearly as bad as his novel version.
With his lips being so puffy due to his deformities, I would say you would be much more comfortable with him sucking harder on your chest than his book counterpart, as you have more padding from his teeth this way.
Kind of reiterating what I said earlier, when Erik is around you and he’s stressed or angry, he’s prone to what can only be described as temper tantrums and he cries out for you to love on him, and usually the only way you can calm him down is by lovingly holding him or letting him suckle on your chest while you call him a good boy.
Seriously, the relief that crosses his face once he has you in his mouth and your milk trickles down his throat is as instantaneous as the embarrassed blush that coats his cheeks and ears once he realizes, that yes, he did just have a meltdown in front of you, and yes, you had to calm him like one would an infant, but he finds himself too relaxed to pull away from you. Erik will hide his beet red face in your chest until you reassure him that it’s alright and that you don’t think any less of him.
Musical Erik is also more easily aroused by suckling on your chest than his novel counterpart.
It just feels so good to be wrapped in your arms and to be nurtured, to finally be taken care of after decades of being on his own, so good that it often manifests itself in Erik getting hard and needy.
You need not fear that you will be left unsatisfied, Erik is more than happy to take his lips from your nipple as long as he can place them between your thighs for hours a little bit, but when he’s done vigorously eating you out, Erik is immediately going back to nursing.
Novel!Erik
I truly believe that the first time you let him nurse from your chest, Erik full on bawled.
All the mommy issues and childhood trauma came bursting up to the forefront of his mind. And yet through his tears, Erik nursed almost greedily, as though he were afraid you would take yourself away from him at a moments notice.
It took about fifteen minutes of you cooing at him that he was alright and how much you loved him for the tears to stop falling, and even then it took an extraordinarily long time for you to get his mouth off of you, making you about an hour late to entering the main opera populair.
The whole time you could feel him watching you from box five, and the second you were somewhere more secluded, Erik cornered you and began to beg for you to let him suckle on your chest more.
Yes, Erik has absolutely no qualms about conveying his need to suckle on your chest, and while his musical counterpart won’t throw quite as elaborate tantrums if he can’t nurse, this Erik surely will.
He’s not afraid to mess with backdrops, cause sandbags to fall, and just overall sabotage the crew of the opera house until you can calm him down.
Erik really is a menace to all who know him, but when it comes to you, he can’t help but let his more childish tendencies come out as he clings to you.
Novel!Erik is extremely prone to over gorging himself on your milk. He won’t stop when he’s full, he’ll drink until he physically can’t anymore, and even then you’ll have to practically pry him away from your chest.
Because of his reluctance to separate himself from your chest, Erik may actually try to push back against your hands when you try and ease him off of your nipple. Of course, this results in him getting milk splatter all over his face and paired with the tears rolling down his cheeks because you took him away from you, Erik paints quite the pathetic picture of himself and he knows it, but he simply doesn’t care.
With how he jumps at the opportunity to nurse, you may have to remind him to calm down and not suck so hard, Erik’s thin lips don’t offer much in the way of comfort when it comes to him being needy whilst nursing.
@sloppyzengarden
@groovy-lady
#erik destler x reader#yandere erik destler#erik destler smut#erik destler#yandere phantom of the opera#phantom of the opera#phantom of the opera smut#phantom of the opera x reader
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THE PHANTOM | ERIK (multi iteration)
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“An Amati to be Worshipped” (Erik Destler |The Phantom of the Opera x Fem!Reader)
| Erik just can’t keep that mysterious demeanor about him when it comes to you. Or his temper. Or his lust.
| NSFW, 18+, minors dni, violinist!reader, (TW: stalker!erik, non con voyeurism, masturbation) questionable history/depictions of 1800’s French culture (I tried)
| picture source: shots from Ben Crawford & Emilie Kouatchou’s run as The Phantom & Christine on broadway
| 1k+ words
In one word Erik was miserable.
His truest obsession, his sweet violinist, was out sick and as such he didn’t get to peer down upon her from box five as she drew those elegant fingers across her bow and string.
He missed her sun worshipped skin like a starving man missed food. She stood out like the brightest star from the pit. Playing her violin like it came as easy as breathing, much in the way Erik himself played his many well versed instruments.
Watching the performance earlier that night had been truly disappointing. Not even Christine’s voice could make up for the lack of the melodic rises and falls that came from his violinist’s strings. It was a clear missing puzzle piece in the whole show. One that irked him down to his soul and made him vow to gut the hapless fool in your place while you recovered.
And he wanted to curse that too.
The newest stage hand had forgone cleaning up the stage after pre-rehearsal a few days ago and you, his greatest muse, had slipped and fallen.
Your decent from the stage to the pit had almost made him reveal himself from his elevated position in the rafts. You’d dropped so abruptly, so thoroughly, that you’d screamed. A wretched sound forced from your mouth that had made even Erik gasp and want to reach for your fallen form.
Erik himself, with that fear and fury still thriving through his very spirit, had only just come from doing what he promised when he saw the tears tracking down your face. He’d gutted DuBoi within an inch of his life, the worm wasn’t worth being taken to his torture chamber, and left him to rest for his remaining hours as he chocked on his own tongue.
He stomped through his passage ways now, in search of you of course. After avenging your ails he was near giddy to get back to what he’d taken up doing since your most unfortunate injury.
He rounded the narrow corner to your bed chambers in the sick bay and hummed lightly as his eyes finally lay upon your form.
You were exquisite.
He could watch you for hours, and did. With the opera house quieting down after the night’s lackluster show and Christine not being due for a lesson, his presence was not needed anywhere else as twilight descended.
You mostly read, books from Senegal that were in a French dialect he was too unfamiliar with to read easily, and worked on your music. That was always his favorite part of the night.
Whenever everyone retired to their shared quarters you would sneak off, usually to the roof, lean against the Angel statue and pull out your beaten pieces of sheet music to write on. You’d hand draw the measure lines with steady hands and the finest ink you owned and then you’d be off.
Many a night Erik had watched as you embarked on the painstaking, and very familiar, process of writing your own music. You wrote, playing on your violin to check your song, until your eyes started to droop and the sun began to peak in the horizon.
You’d cringe, sigh, laugh and celebrate on the roof at your melodies, good and bad, and Erik would watch and wish to celebrate alongside you. To help guide you into finding your musical voice. To embrace you in your combined cheer.
He longed like no other to feel the touch of another. Of companionship.
There’d been many nights that he’d fantasized of stealing you away. As far as he was concerned the light of mundane people didn’t deserve to be blessed by your darkness. A darkness that he’d cherish. That he’d compliment, even.
Your songs weren’t amazing by any measure, you were clearly a beginner, but they were yours and he lived to hear you.
He’d read you music, even hummed your baby masterpiece in his free time. Tweaked little bits and sung it to you until the subtle change in tune got stuck in your head and you’d put the tweaks to paper. Even twisting them again yourself to fit your song more preferably. He always liked your changes immensely, and was honored that you mixed parts of him into that bit of your soul.
You were doing that tonight, in fact. Last night he played a new idea on his own violin. Behind the walls as you’d slept he’d had the pleasure of serenading you and now that his melody had sneaked into your subconscious mind you were writing away.
Erik closed his eyes as you began to play. Even bedridden without an audience, and your own choppy tune being strung together, you were amazing.
He listens to you for hours. Ear practically up against the wall Erik stays up and then subsequently falls asleep with you.
When he wakes he can tell the sun hasn’t risen yet by the dead silence that meets him but he knows you’re asleep. When he rises from his seated position in the cramped pathway and looks through the peephole to the sick room he confirms his guess. The area is still lit but you yourself are passed out, having seemingly been in the midst of playing until the moon’s siren song pulled you under.
He watches you silently. Eyes tracing your figure. Your dark skin just about twinkles under the harsh lights. The yellow lighting of the gas lamp doesn’t do you justice and yet somehow you manage to enrapture him still.
Your shut eyes flutter as he looks upon you. A smile graces his lips; you're enchanting. He wants to be able to speak with you. To mark the creases of your smile up close. To trust you with the secrets of why he hides in the shadows. To feel what it'd be like to have and to hold you.
To feel you succumb to him.
Completely.
He can’t help it. Almost against his wishes his mind turns to thoughts of you beneath him. To the way your skin would yield to his hands and his to yours.
To the arch of your bodies pressed together and the sounds he would siphon from your plush lips.
It makes him squirm in place as he watches you with different eyes. Sinful ones.
His eyes travel down your body and instantly Erik knows how he’s going to spend the rest of the opera’s still hours. You’re allure too strong and Erik too weak for you.
Unable to tear his eyes away from your breasts, Erik can only desire the pleasure of the flesh having his sweet violinist would bring. Your satisfaction has long been made a priority of his after all. It would only make sense for him to satisfy your more…sexual needs.
Even though he could only dream of it currently.
He imagines himself in there now. How he’d start by putting his hand to your cheek, the first touch of another’s skin he’d have in decades. He closes his eyes as his breath stutters out of him.
He would challenge the very God Christine prays to every night, a fool's errand perhaps -but one he would happily embark on, for the chance to see the stark contrast of his skin against yours.
Once more he opens his eyes to gaze upon you. He imagines after he touches your cheek he’d let his fingers trace down your throat and sternum before pausing just above your breasts. Trembling slightly, Erik thinks of caressing and cupping them, of running his thumbs over your dusk nipples. Marveling at how lovely they felt in his hands. Of the gentle sounds you’d give him in return.
Not letting himself think, he lets his hands travel over his own body, cape falling to the floor as he unclips it. He pictures leaning down, putting his lips around your right nipple, and beginning to circle it with his tongue while gently pinching the left one.
He imagines the way your eyes would flutter as he stimulates you with his mouth. Tongue gently sweeping over the stiff peaks of your nipples as you sighed your satisfaction.
Thereafter is when he allows himself to fully succumb to his rampant imagination. All his dreams of whimsy coming through in his mind's eye.
He thinks of you waking up, of skilled dark fingers moving to gently lift his head up, of the smile you’d give him.
“Was last night not enough? Have you come back for more?”
“Whatever you will give me.” Erik sends his own smile back. An action his face is largely unused to but that he is happy to make happen for you.
Your fingers run over the top of his head, through the few skant hairs there.
“Then give me your full devotion,” you say and Erik’s heart sours before he’s going back to your chest.
He says, "With pleasure," and lightly bites your nipple, pleased to feel you shudder.
He’s had the pleasure of learning recently that you were extremely responsive to touch and by god does he wish to apply that knowledge.
Erik then allows himself to fully be given to conjured images of you giving way beneath him. To him delving between your folds and the heavenly noises you make for him.
The thought of you crying out his name is what finally has him spurting into his hands, stuttering gasps falling from his mouth.
When Erik next opens his eyes, the scene of you so beautifully coming undone seared behind his lids, there are tears stuck to his lashes and pooling in his eyes.
His breath hiccups from his chest as he relaxes his hold on his cock. The spent organ flopping onto his thigh.
Erik allows himself to gaze upon you once more, something near shame threatening to claw through him as a few droplets cascade down his cheek, before the morning settles and he is once again back to the reality of being known no longer.
A monster forever bound to his faith hidden in the looming loneliness of shadows as his only company.
Its only shining light being you.
NOTES: Ohhhhhhhh. I hope y’all liked this. I just live for Erik being a needy pathetic simp.
P.S: I won’t respond cause this is a side blog but I do like comments, you can leave one.
#erik poto#erik destler#black!reader#black y/n#the phantom of the opera#erik destler x black!reader#phantom x black!reader#the phantom of the opera x black!reader#erik destler x reader#phantom x reader#poto imagines#the phantom of the opera x reader#18+#phantom of the opera smut
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