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willows-escape · 9 months ago

Text

Carpe Diem - Musical!Erik x Reader

Pairing: Musical!Erik x Fem!Reader

Summary: You'd received possibly the worst news a high status woman could receive in their entire life time, and you had only one thought and one goal in mind. Erik had a different one.

Warnings: angst, forced marriage, a lot of crying, jealousy, uninformed consent (?), almost getting caught, oral (f and m receiving), finger sucking, vaginal fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, crying during sex, forced mask reveal, mentions of murder, gaslighting, manipulation, kidnapping

Words: 9570

Notes: sorry this took so long, coursework's a pain in the ass and i've written and deleted what i've wanted to write so many times. i've written seven different stories at this point and rewritten them each at least three times. i decided to pull back all the complexity of what i was originally going for and ending up with this thing.

i tried to make the phantom more submissive because i know people wanted to read that but musical!erik just doesn't feel submissive to me, at least not in this kind of scenario. he's just too much of a control freak i feel and i think he would become more of a switch later into a relationship when he grows comfortable.

hopefully i don't take so long to write my next thing in future, and i pray i continue to improve in my writing skills lol.

You were in flight, your heart pounding a thunderous rhythm in your chest, matching the frenzied drumming of your feet against the opera house's ancient wooden floors. Every sinew in your body screamed in protest, yet you willed yourself to run faster, harder. The adrenaline coursing through your veins drowned out all thought, all reason, save for one - you have to get to the rooftop.

Your relentless fate was stealthily stalking you, icy tendrils of fear unfurling down your spine, as you envisioned the pitiless roots of destiny relentlessly chasing you, eager to entangle you within their remorseless clutches. The letter you gripped in your trembling hand was the harbinger of your impending doom, a chilling memento of the ominous vow you had once made.

As you turned the corner, your heart pounded in your chest as you darted up the flight of stairs towards the clandestine meeting point. The anticipation hung heavy in the air, matching the dusky sky's ethereal haze. As nightfall descended, it signalled the time when both of you could shed your public facades and bask in the tranquillity of each other's presence, shrouded in shadows and secrecy.

Every muscle in your thighs and calves screamed in protest, pleading for mercy as you drove yourself onward. You forced yourself through each step. As you pushed through the final barrier, the rooftop door swung open, revealing your destination. A gust of crisp, cold air met your face, a shocking contrast against the sweltering heat of your exertion. The sudden chill cut through the stifling humidity clinging to your skin, offering a brief, but sweet, respite.

"Erik? Erik, where are you?" you called out aimlessly, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath.

The tension of anticipation didn't linger long. Soon, the haunting familiarity of the black suit and porcelain mask punctuated your line of sight. A smile, so ignorant and blissful, graced his hidden face, while your own mirrored nothing but distress. As your eyes met, his smile faltered and a sense of panic ignited within his gaze.

"Has somebody hurt you?" The first conclusion came tumbling out of his lips as he rushed to stand in front of you, hands reaching out to caress your arms.

An onslaught of feelings of safety and security besieged you. The caress of his gentle touch, his sugar-coated words, and the purity of his love stood stark against the frigid future looming ahead - ice-cold eyes, indifferent touch, and a home that was nothing more than an glorified prison. Your vision blurred, as if submerged underwater, with briny tears carving trails down your icy cheeks. Your body convulsed with splutters and coughs, surrendering to the raw unravelling of your emotions.

"My dear, please, who did this to you?" His voice wavered, desperation tinging his plea. "I can't bare to see you like this," he confessed, his heart aching to draw you into his arms, to cocoon you in a protective embrace. Yet, his hands twitched with uncertainty, unaccustomed to offering unbidden comfort and tormented by the fear of making the wrong choice.

Struggling, you gasped for the words that seemed to evade your grasp. Finally, in a pitiful whimper, you managed to choke out the truth, "My father. It's my father."

"He has hurt you?" His words, taut with restrained fury, barely managed to mask the cataclysmic rage broiling within his core. His eyes flamed with the intensity of a thousand suns, pledging an unspoken oath that he would move heavens and earth to guard you from any harm. He would not let this happen again, his earlier leniency was a mistake he wouldn't repeat.

"No... well, yes, sort of," you stammered, every word a struggle as tears choked your speech. Your sentences, muddled and hardly coherent, tumbled out in a rush. He stood there, a silent pillar of patience amidst your storm. "The curtain had just fallen on tonight's performance, when Madame Giry found me, said someone had come to the Opera Populaire with a letter for me. I ventured backstage, and – and –”

"Take your time," he reassured you, trying to keep his tone soft and soothing when he was feeling anything but that.

"My father," you began, your voice trembling slightly, "He sent this to me," you raised your arm, presenting him with the damning parchment that bore the news, "It declares that I have a single week to make my return... and to dutifully submit to his wishes, to bind myself in marriage to a man he's handpicked for me.”

As the words tore from your lips, a deluge of sobs overpowered you, shattering your composure into fragments. You crumpled onto the frigid concrete, your body convulsing with the ferocity of your wails, echoing the raw torment festering within.

"He has already decided my fate, to wed me to Alexander Beaumont, heir to one of the wealthiest fortunes in Paris. But, Erik, I cannot bear the thought! I'd choose the most excruciating demise before even contemplating marrying him!" Your tears began to mingle with your snot, humiliation gnawing your insides, knowing he was bearing witness to your disarray. Yet, you were powerless to stop it, and no amount of snivelling could quell the impending sense of doom building within you.

Erik was consumed by a fury so intense, it was a blinding white light in his mind. Thousands of brutal scenarios played out in rapid succession, each a unique way he could annihilate the man who dared to pull you away from him. The man who had reduced you to nothing more than a pawn, a puppet to be used in his ruthless climb up the social ladder.

"I've met him before, his gaze piercing through me, speaking of me as though I were a mere fly on the wall... If I were to wed him, I'd be reduced to nothing more than a trophy wife, imprisoned within the confines of a household, expected to bear children annually until nature robs me of the ability," you choked out between sobs, bitterly recalling his elaborate discourse to your father about his archaic aspirations for a wife, a die-hard traditionalist to his core.

"The Opera Populaire, an impossibility now. My friends, forever out of reach. And you... you, I shall never feast my eyes upon again." The tears assaulted you, battering you with the unrelenting force of a tempest as the brutal reality bore down, each tick of the clock amplifying the sting of truth.

"Then don't go," he uttered, his words masquerading as a suggestion, yet ringing with the commanding tone of a demand, "Don't return home, do not bend to your father's will. There's always another escape, always."

"Oh, Erik," your voice broke, anguish seeping into each syllable, "I can't." A hard lump constricted your throat, the bitter reality of your predicament sinking in. "My father...he wields power, he has influence. If I dare not return, all of Paris would be hunting me down, a bounty on my head. I'm cornered, Erik. I'm left with no other choice."

Before he could utter another syllable, you swiftly eradicated the residue that had amassed on your skin and surged to your feet. Your eyes were ablaze with a bloodshot hue, stray teardrops stubbornly tracing a path down your face. Yet, an unyielding determination was etched across your features. You yearned for one final moment, one last poignant memory before the unavoidable reality of leaving him forever would consume you.

"Take me," you urged in a hushed plea, your gaze ensnaring him with such profound intensity that he was left with no room to misconstrue your meaning. Your purpose was undeniable, and it struck him into stillness. "Please, I beg you, do not deny me this final experience, this closing moment of exhilaration. For I am to be condemned.”

Your fragility was palpable, an image of vulnerability and innocence that made the idea of your bodies entwining, your souls merging into one, nearly impossible to suppress. Erik was gripped by a relentless thought; this encounter wouldn't be your last. A scheme was rapidly taking shape in his mind, a bold plan that he was awaiting the opportunity to enact. Yet, beneath it all, he was merely a mortal, how could he resist such a sweet opportunity laid before him?

As though your initial plea wasn't potent enough, you read his silence as a stark rejection. With a desperate urgency, you persisted, "I must experience what it means to unite with someone who harbours a profound love for me, and whom I equally adore, before time steals this chance forever. This is my final request of you, please, grant me this.”

Every trace of Erik's reservations - his mask, his insecurities, his lack of experience - evaporated in an instant. His entire being was consumed by the sight of your pleading eyes and enticing lips, desperately imploring him to make love to you. The intensity of your need, your last request born out of the fear of never seeing him again, ignited a scorching fire in his abdomen. His slacks tightened unbearably as his body responded to the raw desire coursing through him.

He didn't respond with words. Instead, his body lunged forward, crashing against yours, his lips desperately colliding with yours in an intoxicating, chaotic ballet. It was flawlessly imperfect, devoid of rhythm or pattern, yet it echoed the sheer intensity of your shared lust and fervour. A surge of electricity coursed through your veins, your skin prickling, your stomach churning with a heady mix of anxiety and exhilaration as you passionately kissed him.

Small, desperate gasps and whimpers escaped your trembling lips as they urgently sought his, the icy chill of Paris causing a cascade of goosebumps to erupt across your skin. You clung to him with a ferocity born of pure, raw fear, as if you were precariously perched on the brink of an abyss and he was the only tether keeping you from plummeting into the void. He was your sole anchor in a sea of chaos, the only force keeping you alive.

The searing heat of your skin beneath his fingertips sent his mind spiralling, the sensation of you - so soft, so yielding under his hands, a staggering, unfamiliar experience. He could feel the rhythmic surge and ebb of your chest, your breath, a hot whisper against his face as your lips clashed and fused, time and time again - he was certain he could feel the pulsating rhythm of your veins as your blood roared through your body. So vivid, so fiercely alive.

Inescapably, the mask had turned into an intolerable burden. Each movement caused it to ruthlessly scrape against your skin, the epidermis painfully inflamed and raw. With a heavy sense of reluctance, you retreated, your eyes slowly fluttering open to behold the breath taking spectacle of your angel, gasping for air, his eyes wide and darkened with intensity.

"My love," you began, your voice barely above a whisper, your fingers nervously fiddling with the lapels of his coat. "I know this is a significant request..." The tension hung heavy in the air between you two. "But, would you consider... removing your mask?" Your heart pounded in your chest as you dared to meet his eyes. "It's been catching on my skin, and it's starting to hurt. If it's too much, I understand! We can find another way. It's just that... I yearn to see all of you, unobstructed."

His expression shifted to one of grave solemnity. Deep within, he had known this moment would arrive, yet he had clung to the hope that it would be delayed, that he could savour more of you and this opportunity before you were cruelly torn from his grasp. Now, his countenance was a spectacle of terror, a sight so horrific that he was certain it would repel you instantly, forever severing any connection you could have had. It was this dread, this fear of losing you, that compelled him to deny your request.

"No," he declared, his voice cold and final, making it clear he had no intention of prolonging this conversation any further.

A lump formed in your throat, a silent reflection of the tension in the air. His features were chiselled, hardened as if sculpted by an unseen force. His eyes, unyielding and intense, bore into you, commanding silence without uttering a single word. You were far from foolish, aware that any protest would shatter the brittle tranquillity of the moment. Respecting his unspoken plea, you held your tongue, allowing the silence to envelop the space between you.

You plunged back into the fervour of your previous kisses, this time contorting awkwardly to keep your face clear of the cold, threatening porcelain weapon. With each passing moment, you fought to maintain the connection, a bizarre dance with a man whose full face you'd never seen. A wave of filth washed over you, a creeping sense you should be drowning in shame, but you found no room for such feelings. Not when his touch set your skin ablaze with desire.

His hands settled on the small of your back, gently rubbing above the fabric of your dress. You naturally moved closer, your soft chest against his solid one. Your hands wandered, touching every part of him within reach.

"Is this what you call a lovers outing, Piangi? It's cold and dirty!" The piercing voice of the renowned prima donna erupted from the rooftop entrance, slicing through the silence. You and Erik froze.

"Ah, forgive me, my love," replied her lover, his familiar Italian accent flooding through his words. His voice sounded awkward and dejected. One could almost imagine his look of shame, realizing his romantic gesture wasn't appreciated. "I wanted to look at the stars with you, but if that's not what you desire-"

"Forget it," Carlotta spat out. The echo of footsteps approaching sent jolts of panic through your veins, your heart hammering against your ribcage. Erik, however, remained calm amongst the chaos. His fingers laced through yours, pulling you urgently towards the shadowed sanctuary of the rooftop's far corner.

"If you get too cold, dear, I have my coat with me. Just say the word and I will give it to you," Piangi spoke, his voice straining with the effort to pierce through Carlotta's gloom.

As their voices clashed in petty discord, a sudden blast of searing air prickled the nape of your neck. Goosebumps erupted across your skin, your hair bristling on end. A whispered command, laced with urgency, pierced the tension, "Stay behind me and follow. Make no noise. Not even a whisper."

With a sense of increasing trepidation, you gave a tense nod. You watched, breath held, as Erik emerged from your concealed sanctuary, prowling the expanse of the rooftop with a predator's stealth. He would intermittently halt, shielding himself within various makeshift hideaways. You hastened to mirror his movements, until at last, you found yourself inside the familiar confines of the opera house. His hand ensnared yours, his grip firm yet comforting, as he urged you onwards into the unknown.

It didn't take long before he ceased his steps, drawn like a magnet to the first mirror you encountered. His grip on your hand slackened for a fleeting moment, his fingers dancing over the wall in a cryptic rhythm. There was a tense hush, then the sharp click echoed in the silence, and the mirror slid back with a menacing grace to unveil a hidden passageway.

"What on earth?" you whispered, a tremor in your voice as you gazed upon the hole in the wall where once a mirror was.

Erik wheeled around abruptly, a sense of urgency flickering in his eyes as he extended his hand to you. You paused, uncertainty clouding your features, "Where does this passageway lead? Where are you taking me?"

"Trust me," he implored, his voice barely a whisper, yet carrying an undertone of desperation.

You swallowed, your throat tight with a mix of fear and anticipation. The situation and context around it weighed heavily on your mind, a potent cocktail of potential consequences swirling before you. The silence was deafening as you deliberated, the seconds stretching into what felt like an eternity. Then, with a deep, steadying breath, you extended a trembling hand towards him, a silent acquiescence. You nodded, a solemn gesture of trust, surrendering your fate into his hands.

He responded with a nod of his own, guiding you towards the opening. The entrance was inconveniently elevated from the ground - not to an extreme where a leap was required - but enough to pose a considerable risk. With a firm grip, he assisted you as you stepped inside, ensuring the voluminous folds of your dress evaded entanglement. He trailed in your wake, the air heavy with anticipation.

With a precise touch, he activated a concealed point on the wall, causing the mirror to slide back into normalcy. The echo of silence descended, the only sound being the synchronization of your breaths reverberating through the confined passageway. A whirlwind of questions swirled in your mind, each one violently dismissed as the realisation of your shared purpose gripped you. Of what you were coming down here to do.

He steered you through a maze of bewildering turns, his whispers of caution echoing in the cold, damp air. His grip on your hand was constant, a lifeline in the suffocating darkness. His familiarity with the convoluted tunnels was unsettling, and a chilling worry gnawed at you, as you wondered what hidden dangers made him tread with such measured care.

Soon you were greeted by a lake, its misty greens and blues shimmering so bright it twinkled like glitter. The view was mesmerising, the many candles scattered around lending the stone walls a glorious golden glow that took your breath away. It was unlike anything you’d ever seen before, the foliage blending together beautifully as it decorated the walls. You gasped.

He guided you towards a gondola which was tethered to a stout wooden stake driven deep into the ground. With a steadying hand, he aided your entrance into the vessel, ensuring your balance as you nestled into the boat's hollow core. Following your lead, he stepped in with calculated caution, his grip closing around a weathered paddle, poised at the ready to commence the strenuous task of rowing.

"What is this place?" You asked, ogling at the scenery around you.

"My home, my hiding place, the Phantom's lair, the sewers under the opera house..." he drawled off, beginning to row, "whichever one you wish to call it. All apply."

"You live down here?" You questioned, your brow furrowed as the icy air bit harshly at your exposed skin. The beauty of the place was undeniable, yet it held a chilling solitude that whispered of profound isolation, making it a daunting place to inhabit.

"Since I was a young boy," he spoke as if the words that spilled from his lips held no weight.

You couldn't shake the thought that something terrifying lurked beneath the mask. He had warned you, but you'd never considered how truly terrible it could be until now. Your eyebrows shot up, eyes dilating as your mind spun wildly with grotesque possibilities. What could be so monstrous about his visage that he was compelled to conceal it in the depths of a dank cellar?

Clearly, you had no intention of broaching the topic; it would undoubtedly ruin your plans for the evening. Yet, as the journey unfolded, you became lost in a whirlwind of contemplation, feverishly imagining the concealed face beneath the mask. Your affection was unwavering, regardless of how horrific his face was you'd feel the same way, but the mystery added an exhilarating layer of intrigue that consumed you.

Within mere minutes of fervent rowing, the silhouette of land loomed ahead, jolting you from your daze back into reality. You remained in the confines of the boat as Erik disembarked with calculated precision. He secured the boat with a swift, practiced motion, restoring the paddle to its rightful place. Then, he pivoted towards you, his hand outstretched in an offer of assistance, his eyes locked onto yours.

You smiled graciously, accepting his helping hand as you stepped out of the boat. You were enchanted, looking around at his home and how it was decorated. It was beyond your wildest imagination, intriguing and enigmatic, labyrinthine and gothic.

You were struck by the vast arrangement of candles. They casted a dim, dancing light which bathed the walls in an ethereal glow, casting long, eerie shadows on the dank stone. There was a majestic, ornate pipe organ, and a big mirror off to the side. All the way in the farthest corner, you spotted a bed, grand and draped in heavy, dark fabrics. You were in awe.

Erik did not give you long to stand and stare, as he was quick to pull you in the direction of where his bed resided. After a long, unfamiliar journey, you found yourself standing at your ultimate destination.

Anxiety, like a shadowy predator, stalked and then launched itself upon you, its claws sinking deep into your psyche. Your blood surged in a torrent, your heart hammered an urgent rhythm against your ribs, and your palms became slick with cold sweat as the full weight of your hasty agreement descended upon you.

"Now, it's my turn to pose the question," Erik initiated, his every footstep purposefully resonating tension as he incrementally diminished the space between you both. Your eyes, wide and alert, mirrored the mounting suspense. "Will you do this with me? Allow us to feel each other, become one, before you are to leave and never return?"

Tears welled threateningly in your eyes, a bitter reminder to the tortuous ordeal that loomed above. A personal hell was waiting, embodied in the stony indifference of your father and the pitiless gaze of your suitor. Discarding caution and fear, you hurled yourself against him with the force of a dead weight. In the face of despair, your inner flame roared back to life, desperation clawing its way to the surface once more.

His arms coiled around you with an intensity that left your breath hitched, his lips fiercely claiming yours. With a sudden, swift motion, he hoisted you into the air, your legs automatically snaking around his waist in response. He gently, yet assertively, laid you upon the cool sheets of the bed. He loomed over you. He began to crawl atop, compelling your legs to part in silent compliance. A gasp of anticipation escaped your lips, swallowed by his own, as you felt the weight of him gradually descend upon you.

As you kissed, the inadvertent brush of his crotch against your core sent a jolt through you, driving your senses into a wild frenzy. The searing heat from his arousal, even through the barrier of his trousers, was palpable, each pulsating throb a teasing promise of what was to come. Your breath hitched, heart pounding in your chest, as saliva-slick tongues ventured into uncharted territories, escalating the tension that hung in the air.

Driven by instinct, Erik's hands made a beeline for your sleeves, yanking with an insatiable restlessness, a silent plea for their removal. You countered his advances, pushing him back, a giggle escaping you at his stubborn demeanour. Undeterred, his lips sought new territory, latching onto the sensitive expanse of your neck, peppering kisses and grazing his teeth in a seductive dance that sent shivers down your spine.

Erik's movements against your aching core grew in intensity as he realised what he was brushing against, threatening to silence you completely. Yet, if he truly desired your uninhibited vulnerability, he needed to grant you the space to shed every layer.

"Erik," you tried to infuse your voice with authority, but it faltered, punctuated by your ragged sighs and helpless whimpers, "I'm laced into a corset, it needs to come off. Release me."

He moved with urgency, moving away from your form and allowing the space for you to rise, your knees pressing into the solid mattress. With a focused precision, you began to unbutton your dress, the fabric gliding over your head with a practiced ease, your focus fully enveloped in the task at hand. So engrossed were you, you failed to notice the predatory way his gaze drank in the sight of your bared skin, or the noticeable gulp that resonated from his throat as more and more of you unfolded before his eager eyes.

Your fingers trembled, struggling against the stubborn knot that held the ties of your undergarments in a vice-like grip. It was a battle you were unaccustomed to, always having the help of someone else to aid you with your corset. Your difficulty was palpable, a silent cry for assistance. Lifting your gaze to Erik, your eyes were wide, desperate pools of plea.

"Would you... could you, do the honours?" you asked through gritted teeth, your fingers clawing fruitlessly at the defiant knot, the bulge in the string a mocking testament to the maid's overly-zealous efforts.

In a silent affirmation, he nodded his head, his hand reaching out with an unspoken authority to rotate your form, granting him unimpeded access to your corset. You felt your undergarments grow increasingly wet under his firm handling, a damp patch steadily spreading across the fabric in response to your mounting anticipation. Heat suffused your cheeks, each accidental graze of his fingers against your back as he navigated the complexities of the female attire sending a shocks of tension through your body.

After an intense struggle, he conquered the knot, crafted by your maid's expert hands. But victory left him bewildered.

"Now that it's undone, what's the next step?" His gaze bore into the corset's lacings, a new challenge awaiting him.

With a chuckle rippling through the tension, you interjected, "Allow me." Swiftly, you unhooked the busk at the front, stripping the garment from your form. It cascaded to the floor, disappearing from view.

Bare and unshielded, your form was revealed from the hips upward, only your undergarments veiling what remained. There you were, a portrait of vulnerability, kneeling in anticipation yet turned away, placing a blind faith in him, trusting his unspoken intentions.

His hands seized your hips with an assertive grip, drawing you into his sphere, letting you tumble back onto the mattress as you laid facing him. Your breasts bounded with the abrupt motion, your soft contours and supple skin devoured by his relentless gaze. He studied every detail, every curve and secret of your figure, etching them into his memory.

"You might find this... somewhat audacious," you stammered, your gaze darting around the room, evading his intense stare, "But I've come across something in a book. And I have this... this urge to experience it."

Erik seemed to snap out of a daze, his brows furrowing in curiosity. "And what might that be?" he asked.

You dropped your gaze, a blush creeping up your cheeks as you attempted to muster the courage to voice your desires. "Are you familiar with... cunnilingus?"

A silence fell over the room. Erik appeared shell-shocked, his lips parting but no sound escaping as he tried to comprehend the salacious request that had just spilled from your lips. His experiences with carnal pleasures were extensive, more so after meeting you- he'd spent countless nights engrossed in books filled with varying degrees of erotica. He'd envisioned you and him as the characters, and his fantasies of caressing, embracing, and making passionate love to you had kept him awake many a night.

"Briefly, why?" He asked, his voice steady but his façade barely concealing the turmoil within.

"I want... I want you to do that to me," you managed to utter, swallowing down the embarrassment that threatened to choke you. "My betrothed, he... he wouldn't. I need to know, just once, what it feels like."

A dark shadow passed over his face at your words, the mention of the man you were intended to wed igniting something within him. His lips met your skin with a ferocity that stole your breath away. His body was pressed against yours, a desperate attempt to meld into one, to erase the space that separated you. His kisses trailed a scorching path from your neck downwards, each mark he left with his teeth due to the simmering anger that consumed him.

His hot breath teased against your core, creating a whirl of anticipation that caused your legs to twitch restlessly, your back to curl off the bed. An tingling sensation flowed from your core to the tips of your legs, prompting your thighs to instinctively tighten. He exerted his dominance, forcibly parting your legs to the sides, his chest pulsating with a primal pride as he observed the clear signs of arousal staining your underwear. The thin fabric did nothing to veil your desire for him.

His lips embarked on a deliberate exploration around your intimate area, strategically withholding the direct contact you craved, fueling a desperate need within you. He relished in your quiet pleas, in your desperation for him, for his touch. He wanted to hear it again - your voice, filled with longing, confessing your need for him, your love for him.

A few teasing kisses and feather-light licks over the fabric of your underwear were enough to reduce you to a state of complete disarray. Your head thrown back, lips parted in a silent plea, you begged, "Please, God, please."

He was relentless, persisting in his torturously slow pace and feather-light touches. He was prepared to play this drawn-out game; after all, he'd been fantasizing about moments like this since the dawn of his adolescence. He could wait an eternity if needed.

By the time he finally conceded, you were a whirlwind of emotion, eyes squeezed shut, body writhing as you grappled with an overwhelming sense of embarrassment, struggling to voice your feelings. You appeared as if you had been plucked straight out of a painting, your body seemingly sculpted by celestial forces, the ethereal glow on your skin from your sweat rendering you nothing short of angelic.

His fingers danced along the delicate straps of your underwear, tracing the curve of your hips as he meticulously slid them down your legs. Your underwear was discarded with an impatient kick. He admired how your lips glistened with your wetness, eyes wide and mouth agape as he inspected your parts. His cock felt like it was suffocating in it's tight confinement, begging to be released. He subconsciously rubbed himself against his quilt, hips driving him harder and harder into the fabric.

He didn't allow himself to spend an excessive amount of time simply staring, his fingers gingerly parting the folds of your intimate area as he gradually moved ever closer to the spot where you craved his touch the most. His tongue hesitantly emerged, like a tentative explorer venturing into uncharted territory, testing the waters as he gradually grew accustomed to your unique taste. It was an intoxicating, addictive flavour that he found himself drawn to, your evident arousal dissolving on his tongue like the sweetest candy. As he became more familiar with your body's reactions, his actions started to grow decidedly bolder, his initial cautiousness melting away.

The smooth, cold porcelain of the mask, right where his nose should have been, made direct contact with a particular spot on your body. It was a spot so sensitive, so responsive to his touch, that it turned you into a trembling, moaning mess. Each touch was like heaven, each movement a wave of pleasure that washed over you. It was a sensation you had never experienced before, and it left you weak, gasping for breath.

He pushed himself further into you, his movements becoming more desperate, more needy. His tongue, warm and insistent, ventured into every hidden corner it could find. It was as though he was trying to memorize you, to imprint the taste of you onto his very soul. He was consuming you, devouring you in a way that was both terrifying and exhilarating.

The side of his face that wasn't hidden behind the mask was growing wetter with each passing moment. Each new wave of your arousal either swallowed by him or adding to the wet mess on his face. His eyes, dark and intense, never left your face, watching your every reaction, feeding off your pleasure.

With each passing moment, you found yourself teetering on the edge of exquisite pleasure, its intensity growing with a fervour that rendered you breathless. As cries of delight spilled from your lips, your fingers curled into the fabric of his bedsheets, clutching them with a strength that threatened to rip them to shreds. Now that you had experienced such ecstasy, you were unsure how you’d ever live without it again.

The pressure swelled within the depths of your abdomen, escalating dangerously as your eyes lost focus, surrendering willingly to Erik's touch. The burgeoning tension coiled within you like a heated serpent, until it could no longer be contained, compelling it to uncoil and release the pent-up passion that had been simmering within. Everything let go.

Erik's lips found your most sensitive spot again, sucking on it gently, coaxing a symphony of soft whimpers and quivering gasps from deep within your throat.

The intense sensations that flooded your body soon became far too much and left you with no other option but to gently, albeit reluctantly, push him away from your soaked cunt. His visible cheek and chin bore the shiny evidence of your pleasure, an erotic testament to the intimacy that had just transpired. His lips, swollen and red, were slightly parted as he laboured to catch his breath, the aftermath of your intense encounter leaving him just as breathless as you were.

He planted a single kiss on your thigh before he rose, drinking in the sinful sight of you lying beneath him. Your chest heaved, and the intimate area between your thighs was slick with a mixture of saliva and arousal, a mess he alone was responsible for. He was in disbelief at the sight before him - a woman who had pleaded for his touch, who had permitted him to venture into territory he was not meant to traverse.

You felt utterly winded, struggling to regain your breath as your mind remained in a dense fog. As you sat up, the ringing sensation of blood rushing in your ears was almost deafening. You gave him a once-over and let out a weary pout.

“Why am I naked and you are still dressed head to toe?” you playfully whined, clumsily rising up to fiddle with the buttons of his dress shirt.

A wave of panic washed over him. While a less sensitive subject than the removal of his mask, he was still hesitant about the concept of somebody seeing him disrobed. His hand swiftly intercepted yours, worried eyes looking directly into yours.

“We don’t have to do this,” you reminded him, “Removing clothes is quite necessary to engage in intercourse, so if that’s off the table, that is fine and we do not have to go any further.”

The looming threat of your sexual endeavours coming to a halt was so disconcerting that it pushed his fear of being seen nude into a corner of his mind. If you managed to bare all in front of him, then surely, he should be able to do the same. No horrifying disfigurement marred his body, save for a few scars and marks, which offered him a semblance of comfort amid his anxiety. Yet, it felt so extraordinarily odd - prior to you, people avoided him, disdaining him as a bizarre outcast to either laugh at or run away from. But you, you wanted to see him. You saw him.

With his consent, you delicately unfastened the buttons of his shirt, your fingers tracing the contours of his body as you gently slid it off along with his coat. The anticipation heightened as you unbuttoned his trousers, a sense of awe overtaking you as you noticed the visible sign of his desire pressing against the fabric of his underwear. With a slow, tantalizing motion, you slid his slacks down, pooling them around his ankles, leaving him to step out of them. The sight of him in such a state had your mouth watering, the subtle twitching under the thin fabric not going unnoticed. You glanced up, your eyes silently asking for permission before you proceeded to remove his last piece of clothing.

He was perfect - not too intimidating, yet not too modest. A balance that promised pleasure without the prospect of discomfort. A smile graced your lips as your hands were drawn to him, appreciating the prominent veins that adorned his underside and the swollen tip that seemed to crave the soothing touch of your lips. You didn’t have a second thought before you ducked down to take him into your mouth.

The moment that his length was enveloped by the soft, velvety embrace of your mouth, he felt an explosive sensation, as if he might shatter. The intoxicating blend of your warmth and the slippery wetness was an overwhelming sensory overload, causing his eyes to flutter closed as he savoured the sensation in its entirety. His low, primal groans amplified into a resonant hum of pleasure as you explored his length, your tender hand caressing the parts your lips had yet to discover.

You surfaced for air, drawing in a deep breath before giving him a seductive smile. Your hand continued to stroke him, maintaining the rhythm you'd established, "Have you heard of this one too? It's called fellatio. I've heard from men that it feels quite pleasurable, so I wanted to give it a try."

His brows knitted together in confusion and a hint of possessiveness, "Who's been talking to you about things like this?" he hissed, his fingers entangling in the roots of your hair. He didn't tug or pull, but simply let his hand rest there, grounding himself in the sensation of your touch.

“No one, I just overhear a lot,” you winked, a playful glint in your eyes.

Finding yourself drawn back to your prior task, you returned your mouth to its position, delicately licking around the sides and base of his manhood with a renewed vigour. You made a point to explore every contour, every ridge, leaving no part untouched by your careful ministrations. As you took him into your mouth once more, you hollowed your cheeks, creating a tight, welcoming space that made him gasp. You allowed your tongue to wander, tracing the map of protruding veins that decorated his length, making him shiver at your touch. You took your time, adjusting slowly but surely to accommodate his length.

Over time, you found a rhythm that was as steady as it was sensual, each movement drawing forth intoxicating sounds of pleasure from your lover. Your hand was rendered unnecessary, forgotten at your side as your face pressed closer, your nose brushing against the heat of his skin. The taste of him, the intimacy of the act, left you breathless, saliva slipping past your lips. The symphony of his escalating moans and guttural grunts echoed in your ears, signifying the mounting pleasure coursing through him.

Erik was teetering on the edge, every fibre of his being screaming for release. Time had lost all meaning; all he knew was the burning desire to break down your defences and claim you as his own. He tugged urgently at your hair, a silent plea for you to relinquish him from your mouth. His ego soared at the sight of your ravenous gaze and ragged breathing. Sweat was pooling uncomfortably beneath his mask, creating a stifling heat that was nearly unbearable. Yet, he would not — could not — remove it. For your love, he would endure any torment.

With a gentle persuasion, he coaxed you onto the plush solace of the bed, a wordless request to which you surrendered willingly. His fingers, rough yet tender in touch, traced the shape of your lips. You accepted them eagerly, lavishing them with a soft suckle until he withdrew them. Setting off on a slow, teasing journey, his fingers embarked on a path that danced across your lips, before descending the length of your neck. His touch was electrifying, a trail of shivers marking their progress.

His fingers continued their southern movement, drawn to the inviting warmth of your most intimate area. As he approached your yearning core, your breath hitched, a silent supplication mirrored in your eyes as you awaited his touch. He relished the anticipation, playfully circling the edge before carefully penetrating you with one of his fingers. The sensation of being filled by him was intoxicating, your eyes fluttering in sheer overwhelm as he moved in a rhythm that was leisurely and gentle. Every part of your being was tuned to his touch, each motion sending ripples of pleasure cascading through your body.

"Erik," you moaned, unaware of how you just moaning his name made his arms feel like jelly. He pushed through, eager to please and show you how good he could make you feel.

He cautiously inserted another finger, gradually stretching you out around his digits. He was utterly enchanted by the soft, plush feel of your walls, which seemed to welcome him in their embrace. He explored you curiously, his fingers gently probing, reaching deeper and deeper inside of you. It was like he was charting a course through a previously unexplored territory, each new discovery making him yearn for more.

The sounds that escaped your lips - cries of pleasure, of anticipation, of need - were music to his ears. The way your body responded to his touch, the way your breath hitched every time he moved, the way your fingers clung to him - everything about you made him feel weak with desire.

He didn't keep his fingers at work for very long, just enough time to make sure that you were adequately warmed up, ready for what would come next. With a simple gesture, he signalled for you to move further up the bed. He wanted to make sure you were comfortable, so he guided you to position your head against the plush softness of the pillows that lay strewn at the head of the bed.

His gaze was fixed on you, watching intently as you took the next step. Without needing any words, you communicated your agreement to what was about to unfold. You spat into your hand, a simple but intimate act, sitting up before carefully spreading the moisture over his length.

You allowed yourself to lay back down, your body welcoming the coolness of the sheets beneath you. Erik carefully positioned himself at your sopping wet entrance; his eyes, filled with a mix of anticipation and desire, locked onto yours as he began to push against you. You could feel his bulbous tip as it slowly pushed past your entrance, a sensation so new and unfamiliar that you couldn't help but squeal, your body jolting in response to the sudden intrusion. Erik's mouth hung open in a silent gasp, his breath hitching in his throat as he felt the first part of him slide inside you.

With a slow, cautious movement, he pressed forward further, sinking into you bit by bit, deeper and deeper until he was fully nestled within your warmth. Every inch of him was surrounded by you, his breath hitching once more as he adjusted to the velvety sensation.

For you, it was a fervent blaze, a primal burn that seared through every nerve. His manhood was a stark contrast to his previously tender touch, an unmerciful comparison that seemed impossible to reconcile. A soft whimper of pain broke free, a silent begging for him to pause his movements and allow your body to accommodate his invasion.

You lingered in the throes of this discomfort, each second diluting the initial shock and morphing it into a thrilling wave of bliss. It was a leisurely metamorphosis, a sultry dance between pain and pleasure, until all that was left was pure, unadulterated desire that left you gasping for air and craving more.

Once your body had succumbed to this new sensation, you gave him a silent nod of approval, a signal that he could resume. Erik let out a breath he seemed to have been holding, and his initial gentleness gave way to a carnal rhythm, each slow, deliberate thrust sending ripples of ecstasy that cascaded through your very being.

“So this is what it feels like,” you chuckled, less talking to Erik and more so thinking out loud.

Erik was so utterly focused on you and the indescribable sensations your body was offering him that he found himself unable to formulate an appropriate response. He was completely entranced by the way your intimate area, slick with your abundant arousal, enveloped him so thoroughly. He was lost in the feeling of you, engaged in an internal struggle between wanting to see the expressions of pure pleasure that danced across your face, or to look down and observe the erotic sight of his own manhood disappearing again and again into your inviting warmth.

He draped himself over you, his form a sanctuary, shielding you from the world beyond. His face nestled in the junction of your neck and shoulder, an alcove where he could inhale your scent. The cool porcelain of his mask contrasted with your heated skin, tempering the dew of perspiration that glossed your body. Underneath the mask, he endured the humid confinement - a necessary sacrifice for the exquisite torment he was bestowing upon you. Each powerful thrust sent ripples of ecstasy through you, rendering you breathless and dizzy with delight. The potent heat was all-encompassing, filling your consciousness with nothing but unadulterated, exquisite pleasure.

"I love you," you breathed out in a whisper, your voice dripping with desire. Each word was punctuated by a soft moan, the sound of it causing shivers to cascade down his spine, your hot breath against his ear igniting a fire within him.

As if his struggles weren't already overwhelming enough, your words seemed to only add more fuel to the already blazing fire within him. It was as though every syllable you uttered stoked the flames, pushing him further into a realm of passion he had never known before. His arm, strong and certain, forced its way behind your back, pulling you up to hold you close to him. It was a closeness that was almost palpable, almost too much, as he thrusted inside of you.

“I love you too,” he groaned, his words saturated with an intense, raw emotion that welled up in his eyes, the tears threatening to cascade down his face in an uncontrolled torrent of feeling.

You, on the other hand, were no better off, your own tears of sheer joy and devastating heartbreak pooling in your eyes until they were beyond their capacity to hold back any longer. They overflowed, running down your face like precious diamonds, a display of the depth of your misery. Making love to somebody who genuinely loved you back was a concept so beautifully simple, yet tragically forbidden. It was an experience that brimmed with a love so deep, a care so nurturing, and a passion and compassion so profound that it was unparalleled.

You knew you would never encounter such a feeling again in your lifetime. You were merely attempting to stave off the inevitable end, attempting to shield yourself from the stark reality that awaited your return to the surface world. Each moment was a battle against the clock, each second a desperate attempt to extend the blissful ignorance of the impending conclusion.

In that moment, you belonged to him and he to you, your bodies intertwined and connected as the flames consumed you both. You held onto him with a desperation that mirrored your own, your arms wrapping around him, hugging him close. You were a lifeline to each other, two beings lost in a sea of passion and desire, holding on to the only solid thing in a world that was spinning out of control.

With every pulsating sensation, you tried desperately to prevent the impending climax that was steadily building within you. You wrestled against it, mustering all of the strength and willpower you possessed. You didn’t want this magical night, this passion and desire, to end. The thought of the experience drawing to a close was unbearable, and yet there was nothing you could to do stop the familiar building pressure in your abdomen.

And you knew, in the deepest recesses of your mind, that you shouldn't have given in to the temptation- that you should have exercised restraint and kept your wandering hands to yourself. Despite this, you were a prisoner to your own overwhelming curiosity, a force so powerful it threatened to consume you whole.

The haze of pleasure Erik was weaving around you kept intensifying, it ebbed and flowed into every crevice of your consciousness, distorting the boundary between the tangible world and the intoxicating euphoria you found yourself spiralling into. Your hands, as though guided by an insatiable yearning that was wholly their own, found their way to the mask that resided on his head.

Your fingers, trembling with anticipation and anxiety, began to play with the thin string keeping the mask firmly in place, protecting his true form. The tension in your body was mounting, your anxiety and the impending orgasm that threatened to shatter your very being reaching the same intense peak.

The familiar ball of pleasure that had been steadily growing within you finally burst, sending shockwaves of pure ecstasy coursing through your veins. You could feel Erik's hot semen spurt inside you, marking you as his. As the intense waves of your climax washed over you, you summoned the last of your strength and ripped the mask off his face, revealing the man beneath.

You had comprehended the profound severity of Erik's disfigurement when he confessed that he had been residing here since his tender youth. Why else would somebody feel so compelled to withdraw from society? You had determined then, with unyielding resolve, to love him irrespective of his appearance. Your conviction remained unwavering as his visage came sharply into view. His eyes, dilated with raw fear, his mouth trembling on the verge of speech, and his hands, once securely encircling you, now trembled and twitched uncontrollably.

A sigh escaped you, a bright smile lighting up your face as you gazed at him dreamily. You leaned in, your hand tenderly cradling the side of his face which had remained disfigured and concealed until this moment. Tears which had been threatening to spill from his eyes now fell freely, and your own followed suit as the realization of parting hit you.

With a gentleness that belied the depth of your feelings, your fingers traced the lines of his marked skin. Your lips had found his in a passionate kiss, the tears that slid silently down your cheeks mingled with his, a silent symbol of the connection of your souls, a joining so profound that words failed to capture its essence.

With reluctance, you pulled away from the warmth of his body, rising slowly from where you were entwined with him. You wiped your tears away. A wince crossed your face as you felt Erik's softening length slip out of you, the sensation of his release dripping out of you, serving as a lingering reminder of the intimacy you had shared.

"Do you not take issue with that you see?" His voice was laced with an unnerving intensity, his eyes never leaving your form as you searched for your scattered garments. You assumed his weird behaviour was due to his feelings about your impending departure.

"Not when it's you," you confessed, a poignant smile pulling tragically at the corner of your lips, laden with unspoken emotions.

It didn't take long for you to find your garments. You fastened the corset around your waist, making sure it properly supported your bosom. Despite pulling the laces tightly, you found that you needed additional help. Each time you tried to tie the laces, the corset loosened.

"Could you lace this up for me, Erik? I'm struggling," you chuckled, turning back round to find that he had already put his underwear back on. "Corsets are tricky things. I often need someone else's help to put it on and take it off."

"You don't need it," he declared, his face a stoic mask, eyes unblinking and filled with unwavering resolve.

You hesitated, uncertain of how to respond or process his words. You thought he might not understand the full purpose of your undergarment. "I can't be amongst with people without wearing my corset. It's indecent. Without it, people could see my breasts," you said.

"And that's precisely why you don't require it," he shot back, his hardened face rigid with confrontation, eyes locked onto you as you blinked, wrestling with the weight of his words. "You aren't going anywhere."

"What? Erik, I have to leave," you leaped towards him, a wave of dread washing over you as he remained unaffected, "My father wields a lot of power and influence, a fact you're well aware of. Search parties will be dispatched and they'll hunt us down."

Erik's laughter echoed ominously around you, his jarring mirth only amplifying your unease, "He will not pose a threat, my dear. Act as though he doesn’t exist."

"How can you be so sure?" You shot back, eyes narrowing into slits as you regarded him with deep-rooted suspicion.

"Because he won't live to witness the week's end, fortunate if he survives the night," he sneered.

You were petrified, frozen in terror. The uncertain veracity of his words hung heavy in the air, but the fury etched in his gaze was unmistakable. It was a chilling declaration that bulldozed your defences, sending frigid lashes of fear snaking through your bloodstream.

“No, no,” you whispered, face twisted in dread.

"You said it yourself!" he yelled, seemingly unaffected by your flinch. You lifted your hands, ready to protect yourself if needed, but you knew that if he truly wanted to hurt you, you had no chance. "He was the one who tried to separate us, to spoil our love! How can I let him manipulate destiny? It's a sin!"

"Sin or not, he is my father!" you retorted, tearing off your corset and swiftly pulling your dress over your head. You let it fall over your figure. "I have to go."

“You forget yourself,” Erik's voice echoed ominously from the shadows, untouched by your retreat. “Was it not you pleading for me to awaken your senses to the touch of a genuine lover? Were you not weeping to me over the wreckage your father's deeds would cause in your life? Does Monsieur Beaumont need to be added to the list? Is that what you desire? I am merely aiding you!”

Trying to block out his taunting, you jammed your underwear down your bodice and clung to your corset like a lifeline. Panic was on the verge of consuming you, your thoughts spiralling out of control, too swift and chaotic to grasp. The realization of your own foolishness hit you like a punch, a bitter and unforgiving truth.

In your hour of fragility, you had sought solace in the one individual you deemed a sanctuary, a cure to your torments. But he, like a concealed predator, exploited your vulnerability, shrouding his true motives to feast upon your innocence and cast you into never ending isolation. The dread lay not in his visage, but in his very being, a monstrous revelation.

“Even if you escape, your father cannot. He has to pay for what he's done,” he hissed, his voice becoming a menacing whisper, fading into the background as you distanced yourself.

You were approaching the familiar boat, stepping carefully over the wooden structure. You untied the rope and with the paddle in hand, you prepared to set off on your journey.

CLINK, SLAM.

You froze.

“Besides the fact that you have no idea where you’d be going around the sewers and passageways and would probably end up fatally mutilated in one of my many traps,” he spoke once more, trailing off as he watched the light leave your eyes, “You don’t know how to open the gate. Unfortunate.”

What had you done?

any feedback is appreciated! sorry it ended there, i started writing this at 12pm and it's now 5:21am the day later. i have not had a break. it had to end.

#phantom of the opera #phantom of the opera musical #poto #erik destler #erik the phantom #gaston leroux #phantom of the opera x reader #musical #poto x reader #smut #angst #erik x reader #erik destler x reader #ramin karimloo #the phantom x reader #phantom x reader #1990 phantom of the opera #phantom of the opera 1990 #2004 phantom of the opera

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phantology · 10 months ago

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pet names

— the pet name that the ghouls call you most often. [swiss, dewdrop, phantom, rain, aether, mountain]

a/n: this is my first time writing for ghost, so apologies for the short length. just wanted to get a feel for it before i started writing longer things :)

DEWDROP ━━━

you could hear the half-walk, half-run of your favorite ghoul before you heard his voice. his gate told you he was happy about something, whatever it was.

your theory was confirmed a few beats later as he walked into the room, guitar in tow.

“i take it practice went well?” you smiled.

“tiring, but it went well.” dewdrop set his guitar down, then made a beeline for you. “although, you know that i missed you, doll.”

PHANTOM ━━━

the word that slips off of phantom’s tongue is… foreign, to say the least. it almost felt heavy. he seemingly said it without realizing it, tagging it on to the end of his sentence as though it was your name. whatever he had said to you doesn’t even register.

“what did you say?” you finally ask.

“i asked what you were up to?” he responds, sounding a little confused.

“no, what did you call me?”

he seems to think about it. after a few brief moments, he finally looks back up at you. “i called you… i guess a translation would be something like ‘my darling?’”

AETHER ━━━

“good morning, darling.” aether’s voice was starkly chipper to how you felt. it was a little too early in the morning for you taste, but sleep evaded you.

despite the tiredness still clouding your mind, you smiled at the ghoul. you plopped yourself down beside him and laid against him, allowing him to maneuver the both of you so that his arm fell across your shoulders. as he began to rub small circles into your skin, sleep finally found you.

RAIN ━━━

it was quiet. not that you minded it, just that most days spent around the ghouls were the very opposite of quiet.

“hey, sweetheart?” the familiar, calming voice of rain caught your attention. you looked from the reading you were engrossed in to the ghoul who offered you a small smile.

“hey,” you responded. “where is everyone else?”

he shrugged absently. “out. doing something or the other. i figured we could do something? stay in, if you want, or we could go find something to do. whatever you wanted.”

SWISS ━━━

“baby..” swiss dragged out the name, purposefully making his voice whiny to get your attention.

you looked up at him. you didn’t say anything, but the look on your face communicated what you meant. in all honesty, you’d forgotten what you were feigning being upset about, but swiss’ attempts at earning your forgiveness were becoming comical.

MOUNTAIN ━━━

the mug made a clink noise as mountain set it on the desk. inside of it was coffee, made just the way that you always liked. mountain had a weird way of remembering little things like that: the way you made your coffee, the way you wrote certain letters, the way you organized. it was odd to you sometimes, but other times it was useful.

“hopefully the coffee helps.” mountain started. he paused for a moment before continuing. “but… you need sleep, my love. you’re sure there’s nothing i can do to help you finish your work?”

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n1ght0f-nyx · 3 months ago

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hiiiiii i'm a big phantom of the opera fan. Could i please please please request a fic where the reader works in the opera house and she has a panic attack but the phantom sees her and sings to calm her down <33333

Song in the Dark

erik destler (the phantom) x gn reader!

The reader, working in the opera house, has a panic attack and hides in a dark corner. The Phantom finds her, sees her distress, and sings a calming song.

warnings- not a realistic panic attack, anxiety

word count: 889 words

divder by kodaswrld

The grandiose halls of the Paris Opera House echoed with the sound of rehearsals. Dancers glided across the stage, singers belted high notes, and behind the scenes, the workers were bustling—adjusting props, fixing costumes, and preparing for the upcoming performance. You, one of the backstage hands, found yourself moving at a rapid pace, trying to keep up with the demands of the day.

But something was different today. There was a tension in your chest that hadn’t been there before. The pressure of work, the fast pace, the noise—it all began to blur together, and suddenly, your world felt as if it was spinning out of control.

You stumbled into a shadowy corner near the labyrinthine hallways beneath the opera house, clutching your chest. Your breaths became shallow, your heart raced, and your mind was swirling with thoughts you couldn’t quiet. You had read about panic attacks before, but nothing could have prepared you for the overwhelming feeling of dread. Your hands trembled as you slid to the ground, tears welling in your eyes.

Suddenly, amidst the darkness and chaos in your mind, a voice emerged from the shadows. Soft, soothing, and hauntingly beautiful, it called out to you.

"Do not be afraid, little one. You are safe here."

The voice wrapped around you like a gentle embrace. Though your heart still raced, you couldn’t help but focus on the sound. A figure stepped into the dim light, cloaked in shadows, yet unmistakable—the Phantom. His white mask gleamed against the darkened walls, and his presence, though intimidating, was oddly comforting in that moment.

He crouched beside you, his voice low and melodic. "You must breathe. Listen to me."

You tried to take a deep breath, but the tightness in your chest remained. Your vision blurred with tears, and you found yourself sinking further into the panic. Sensing your struggle, the Phantom leaned closer, and without a word, he began to sing.

His voice, rich and deep, flowed through the narrow space. The melody was unfamiliar, but it was calm and gentle, like a lullaby meant to soothe a frightened child. The notes filled the air, wrapping around you, coaxing you to focus on the sound rather than the chaos inside your mind.

“Close your eyes,” he whispered between verses.

You obeyed, closing your eyes and listening to his song. The tension in your chest slowly began to ease, as if the weight of your panic was being lifted by the very sound of his voice. You could hear every note, every gentle rise and fall in the melody, and it felt like the world around you had stopped spinning.

The Phantom continued to sing, his voice a balm to your frayed nerves. He wasn’t just singing to calm you down—he was singing for you, as if each note was crafted with you in mind. His presence, once feared by so many in the opera house, felt like a lifeline in your moment of vulnerability.

Gradually, your breathing steadied. The tightness in your chest loosened, and the tears that had spilled over your cheeks began to dry. The panic that had gripped you so fiercely was now fading, replaced by a sense of calm, and the comfort of knowing that someone had been there for you when you needed it most.

When you finally opened your eyes, the Phantom had stopped singing. He was still close, his eyes fixed on you, though half his face remained hidden by his iconic mask. You swallowed hard, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over you, though you weren’t sure what to say.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

The Phantom’s lips twitched into a faint smile, though there was something unreadable in his gaze. “There is no need to thank me. The music has always had the power to heal... to calm the soul.”

He rose to his feet with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly and extended a hand to you. Hesitant at first, you took it, allowing him to help you to your feet. Even after the panic had subsided, there was something grounding about his touch.

"You should rest," he said, his voice softer now, almost tender. "The opera will still be here when you are ready."

You nodded, still feeling the aftershocks of your anxiety, but the weight had lifted. The Phantom gave you a final, enigmatic glance before turning away, his figure melting back into the shadows from which he had emerged.

As you watched him disappear into the darkness, you couldn’t help but feel that something had changed within you. Perhaps it was the Phantom’s song, or perhaps it was the realization that, even in the deepest corners of the opera house, even in the midst of fear, you were not alone.

And somewhere, deep in the bowels of the opera house, the Phantom sang on.

#divder by kodaswrld #phantom of the opera #poto #erik x reader #erik destler x reader #erik the phantom #poto art #the phantom of the opera #poto musical #gaston leroux #phantom of the opera x reader #christine daae #x reader #phantom x reader #gerard butler #charles dance #erik poto #request

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spookyghostjelly · 1 year ago

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Sweet Sickness - Phantom x f!reader

Warnings: MDNI 18+, pure smut, pnv sex, ghoul in heat, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink, biting, Phantom is baby

Thank you @whatawonderfulexistence--blog for proofreading this, you're the best ❤️

You bid a couple of siblings good night as you finally got to your room's door. You had thought about curling up in front of the fireplace with a book all day, and you smiled softly to yourself as you opened the door. You fully expected to come upon the sight of your cozy and empty bedroom but what your gaze came upon instead had your heart nearly jump out of your throat. A ghoul, Phantom more precisely, was pacing nervously back and forth in front of your bed, wide panicked eyes looking up when he heard you come in.

"C-can you close the door please?" He stutters, fidgeting nervously as he comes to a stop.

Your initial shock finally wears off, and you do as he says, closing the door hurriedly behind you. You step towards him, but stop when you notice the way his body tenses.

"Phantom, what's wrong?" You ask, worry seeping into your tone. You'd never seen the ghoul look so restless.

"I… I don't know" he resumes his pacing. "I don't know what's going on, I'm feeling all weird and hot and feverish…" he looks back at you with pleading eyes. "I'm sorry I got into your room without permission y/n, I didn't know what else to do…"

Your heart squeezes at the sight, he looks so genuinely scared, you just want to help him in any way you can. You take another step towards him but he stops his pacing immediately, staring at you, his eyes visibly narrowing on your every move. You stop again.

"Can I get close to you? I just wanna check your temperature." You ask in a soft tone.

His stare is hesitant for a moment before he finally nods, you can see he’s trying to keep himself from fidgeting. You approach him and reach carefully for his forehead. His dark eyes follow your movement with apprehension and once your hand finally comes to rest on his skin, a high pitched whine leaves his lips. A whine that seemingly surprises him just as much as you, if his suddenly horrified expression is anything to go by.

"I-I'm sorry, I don't know why I did that!" He stammers, his cheeks flushing.

In any other situation, you'd find this incredibly adorable, but the ghoul before you is burning hot to the touch, which is making you a little worried. Ghouls sometimes had a higher body temperature than humans, but Phantom was even hotter than Dew right now, which is unusual. Then, just as you go to withdraw your hand from his skin, his hand is quick to snatch your wrist and bring it to his cheek.

"Can you please keep touching me? I don't know why, it just feels better…"

His wide pleading eyes are staring into yours and you can't help but get lost in the lavender swirls of his irises for a moment, a soft smile pulling at your lips. What brings you back to the moment is a low hum, sounding very nearly like a growl, that comes from Phantom when you mindlessly rubbed your thumb on his cheek. You nearly pull back, afraid you'd hurt him somehow, but his hand still gripping your wrist keeps you from doing so and his whole body tenses.

"It's okay Phantom," you try to sound reassuring despite the little nervous wobble of your voice. "Now, did you tell any of the other ghouls about what's going on?"

He shakes his head and you hum thoughtfully. Truth was, you didn't know much about the ghouls' systems, in their human or demon form, you don't even know if they can actually get sick.

"Are you feeling any kind of pain?"

He thinks for a moment.

"Burning… feels like I'm burning from the inside- it's not painful, I think? But it's…", he pauses as he seemingly searches for the right term, "consuming."

The last word comes as a harsh whisper and suddenly you realize how he had somehow moved closer to you without you even noticing. His body now had you trapped against him and your bed and he was so close, you can feel his body heat wash all over you. You also hear the way his breath is getting heavier with each passing second.

"Phantom? Are you ok?"

Your worry is only increasing when no answer comes. Instead, his head shifts to the side a bit, bringing his lips mere inches from your wrist, and he inhales deeply. His eyes close and a groan escapes his lips while you stare dumbly at him, confused as to what was going on.

"Phan-" you begin but stop abruptly when you feel sharp canines brush your sensitive skin.

"Fuck, I'm sorry, I don't know what's going on, but you just smell so good-" he whispers, his breath so feverishly hot on your skin. "Please let me touch you, I feel like I need it so bad…"

His pleading gaze comes back to yours and they are filled with such longing and need you can almost taste it. Despite worry still being present in your mind, you find yourself wanting to indulge him. You'd had a soft spot for the new ghoul ever since you'd first met him a few months ago, just after his summoning, and your feelings only grew with time. He can be a little clumsy at times, and sometimes looked up a little too much at Dew as an example. But, unlike the grumpy fire ghoul, Phantom is sweet, a little shy, and always so eager to help and learn. A little nibble at your wrist pulls your mind back to him, and you realize he is waiting, or rather craving, for an answer.

"Yes", you breathe out.

The word barely makes it past your lips, his hands are cupping your cheeks and his mouth is crashing on yours. He kisses you like a starving man, his sharp fangs brushing against your lips and his tongue delving into your mouth to tangle with yours with a deep moan. You grip at the collar of his uniform shirt while his hands frantically travel down your body to grab your hips, claws digging in slightly as he presses you impossibly further against him. You whimper against his lips as you feel just how hard he already is. Just as you feel yourself getting dizzy from the lack of oxygen, his mouth quickly trails down to your neck where he leaves a myriad of hungry kisses and nips. The broken moan he pulls from you seems to delight him, judging by the purr that rumbles deeply in his chest.

"Fuck puppy, I need to have you, right now"

You squeak as he suddenly tears into your habit and underwear, ripping them all from you, his claws cut through fabric like a knife through butter. Before you can even fully process that you're now bared before him, he's already tearing into his own clothes. In less than seconds, you both stand naked and he's pushing you backwards, until you're laid out on the bed and he eagerly climbs on top of you. As his eyes explore the length of your body, you notice the way his pupils are blown so wide, the purple of his irises can no longer be seen. He's looking down at you like he's literally gonna eat you, and at this point, you think you would actually let him do so. You inhale sharply when he suddenly dives down, his lips sealing around a nipple while a hand goes for the other. Your body arches against him as you cry out his name and he growls lowly. His tail travels softly up and down your legs, a sharp contrast to his ravenous mouth. He then proceeds to leave kisses and bites all the way down your stomach, while his hands flitter from one part of your body to the other, like he's trying to explore everywhere all at once. You're squirming under him and the urgency of his actions has your head spinning. Before you know it, his mouth is now lined with your heat, his breath so hot on your most sensitive parts as he inhales deeply. His eyes look up to yours as his tail curls around one of your ankles and you gasp loudly when his tongue finally laps at you. Your hand flies to his head instinctively, grabbing his horn at the base. He whimpers so loudly, you think you might've hurt him or something, but the second you try to remove your hand he grabs it to keep you from moving. You look down at him and you see the way he's already humping the mattress, desperately looking for any type of relief, all while staring up at you with the hungriest look you've ever seen. He doesn't give you any more time to settle as he then laps at you frantically, like his life actually depends on it. He's going back and forth between plunging his tongue as deep as he can within you, to circling your clit, all while moaning and groaning obscenely. Your grip tightens onto his horn as your head falls back, a mix of his name and swears spilling past your lips. You can't even align proper thoughts anymore, and you know he's far from done with you. His tongue feels sinful in the most delightful of ways and it's sending your mind into complete ecstasy. He then proceeds to plunge two of his fingers within you, pumping them in and out at a vicious pace. He manages to find your sweet spot in record time, and the stimulation of both his tongue and fingers has your orgasm hit you like a freight train. You scream out his name, your grip on now both of his horns tightening as your body shakes. You barely notice the way his eyes roll into the back of his head as he drinks you up eagerly. He continues to lap at you until your body spasms and you whimper from overstimulation. He comes back up to meet your lips with his, kissing you deeply. You moan against him as you taste yourself on his tongue.

"Puppy, need to be inside please, tell me you want me," he begs when he parts from you, the tip of his cock already brushing at your entrance.

"Want you Phantom, please yes," you answer immediately, already desperate to feel him inside you.

He wastes no time as he bottoms out in one go, barely giving you any time to adjust to his size before he starts thrusting into you harshly. You're both panting against each other's lips, both moaning and groaning loudly. He kisses you again while his tail comes up to flick at your nipple and you clench around him, which in turn drives him to fuck you even harder. He's hitting that spot repeatedly again and you're seeing stars, you'd never felt so good. His head falls forward, his lips now brushing against the skin of your neck and you dig your nails into the skin of his back.

"Puppy, I need to bite you, please, please, please!"

He's babbling and pleading loudly but your foggy brain doesn't even manage to fully understand what he said before you suddenly feel his teeth digging in the flesh at the base of your neck. You screech at the sudden spike of pain, pleasure and surprise, a completely overwhelming mix. He releases the skin before hungrily lapping at the blood that now flows from the wound.

"Fuck, that's it, you're mine now puppy, I won't let anyone else touch you… I love you so much!"

He's rutting into you harshly, his hips slapping hard against your skin. You feel tears coming down your cheek, a sob ripping from your throat from the overstimulation and pleasure.

"Phantom, please!"

"Yes puppy I'm right here, I'm gonna fill you up, stuff you full of my kits! You're gonna be such a good mommy…"

He's panting loudly into your ear and you feel yourself clenching around him.

"Cum again for me please, my sweet, I know you can g-give me one more."

As he says so, he angles himself to hit your cervix with every thrust. You're screaming by now but you can't bring yourself to care, not when his cock feels so good. The coil in your stomach is winding tighter and tighter with each of his thrusts, and before you can even process that you're close, you're already screaming his name on repeat as it snaps violently.

"That's it puppy, oh f-fuck, you feel so good, I-I'm gonna-"

He doesn't even manage to finish his sentence as he cums deep in you, stuffing you more full than you've ever been. Praises and swears are tumbling past his lips uncontrollably, nearly incoherent. You feel his cock kick for what feels like minutes and he whimpers and hisses each time your walls clench around him. Finally, his body relaxes and you squeak when he grabs you and flips your positions so you're laying on top of him. You both stay like this for a while, until your quick pants become deeper, calmer breaths. You look up at him only to find his eyes already on you. His pupils are still blown wider than usual, but now you can faintly see a rim of purple around them. You feel his hands against you fidgeting and he's now chewing on his lip worriedly.

"Phantom? What's up?" You ask as you bring a hand to his hair, brushing it back from his face.

He purrs and leans into the touch, eyes closing slightly.

"It's… it's true you know…" you cock your head slightly at his words. "I love you…" he adds hesitantly in a whisper, his eyes darting away from yours.

Your lips part in surprise at his confession. Even after all this, you thought it was probably nothing more than some heat-induced babbling, not an actual confession from him. You feel the way his body tenses at your silence.

"I wasn't planning on telling you like this I swear, I had a whole thing planned in my head, I'm sorry it just came out! I couldn't help it, I think it's because of the weird and stupid sickness, I just-"

You cut off his nervous rant by quickly pressing your lips to his and the muffled gasp that comes from him makes you smile against his lips. He still responds eagerly, quickly turning the kiss into something much more heated. You reluctantly part from him when your lungs scream for oxygen.

"I love you too" you finally breathe out, your heart fluttering in your chest as you do.

He stares at you for a moment with wide humid eyes, his gray skin darkening as he flushes. Then you feel him stir slightly against you, and you notice he's growing hard again.

"Puppy, I-I'm sorry, I think I need help, I'm still feeling…" he trails off, whimpering when you press your hips against his.

"It's ok Phantom, I'm here to help you with your heat," you answer with a smile and you giggle at his confused stare.

"My heat?" You see the realization dawn upon him a few seconds later, then you sink upon him in one quick motion. "Oh fuck, puppy!" He screams.

It would be a long night, that much you knew, but you had to admit, there was no one else you'd rather spend it with than the ghoul you loved.

#phantom x reader #phantom ghost #phantom ghoul x reader #ghost band fanfic #fanfic smut #reader smut #smut #mdni #the band ghost #phantom ghoul #my writing #fanfiction #ghost fanfiction #ghost bc #ghost

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potol0ver · 1 year ago

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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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wolftoken · 5 months ago

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phantom ghoul cuddly headcanons

a/n: these were meant to be aether headcanons but they turned into phantom lol

• masterlist •

phantom is a cuddly ghoul. he loves to hold you and feel you with him; you’re a calming presence when he needs it. whenever he starts to feel overwhelmed or stressed his mind immediately goes to you, what you’re up to, if you’re missing him as much as he’s missing you. as soon as he’s done with his duties for the day he makes a beeline to your room.

he’s a big softie for you. when you’re together he always wants to touch you, no matter if you’re in public or not. he likes to feel your hand in his, your thighs pressing together when you sit with him, your head on his shoulder when you get tired.

when you fall asleep on him, he feels like the luckiest ghoul in the world. he can’t believe he gets to see you like this, so at peace and vulnerable with him. he wonders about the dreams you’re having, what each twitch or noise you make means. he can’t help but lay a gentle hand on your cheek and brush any stray strands of hair out of your face. sometimes you wake up, and he’d feel bad but the second he gets to look at your sleepy expression he just smiles and presses excited kisses to your face.

he loves when you touch his horns and tail. they’re sensitive in different ways - smoothing a hand over his horns makes him purr and wag his tail, but touching his tail tickles him like nothing else. phantom’s giggles are the best you’ve ever heard.

#phantom ghoul #phantom ghoul x reader #ghost band x reader #ghost bc x reader #nameless ghoul x reader #nameless ghouls x reader #ghost x reader #ghost band fanfic #ghouls x reader #phantom x reader #my writing

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quaildoodle · 1 year ago

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for all my phantom enjoyers <3

#art #the band ghost #drawing #ghost bc #ghost #nameless ghouls #phantom ghoul fanart #phantom ghost #phantom ghoul #phantom ghoul x reader #phantom x reader #papa emeritus iv

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xxcallmemaryxx · 1 year ago

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Phantom who’s newly summoned ghoul boy brain sees you and is just like needyouneedyouneedyouneedyouneedyou

He wants to touch and grab and feel you and scent you and you’re his you’re his you’re his

The other ghouls have gotta remind him that humans take time to warm up to stuff like this, he needs to be patient

But you’re right there. And he’s right here. And his fingers twitch and his chest tightens and his knees feel funny and he just wants

He wants so intensely.

He thinks about everything you two could possibly do together. He thinks and thinks and thinks about all the possible scenarios that could occur between you two. He’s dreamed of a million different interactions he could have with you. Knowing with the utmost confidence that when they finally play out he will be so prepared to sweep you off your feet.

And then you talk to him and he just gawks at you. Words don’t work because pretty pretty pretty human too pretty too pretty can’t stop looking at pretty human his pretty human.

And you just know you will be soon, his.

#hi phantom brain rot #hehehehhhh he is very nice to write I like writing phantom #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #phantom ghoul #phantom ghoul x reader #phantom x reader #mary’s headcannons

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ourfatherwhoartinhell · 6 months ago

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Phantom: Just got diagnosed as your wife. Yeah no, they said it's terminal. We have to stay together forever until I die.

#queue be thy name #the band ghost #ghost band #nameless ghouls #ghost ghouls #incorrect ghost quotes #incorrect ghouls quotes #phantom ghoul #phantom x reader

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katz-rambles · 5 months ago

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I've been sick lately so I got too thinking.. how would the current ghouls and ghoulettes treat their S/O who's sick.

(headcannons, gn!reader, fluff/comfort(?), mentions of puking, mentions of being naked but no sex, I think this is it!)

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰

• He's going to make fun of you. A ghouls immune system is so much stronger than a humans. So he won't really understand what to do, but he gets an A for effort.

Dewdrop/Sodo

• You may have to straight up tell him what to do. He probably won't listen if you aren't right out with it.

• Though, when he does understand what he has to do, he is right by your side the whole time. He won't let you out of his sight. What if you suddenly feel worse and he's not there to sooth you?

• He gets a little (lot) protective over you. You're in a vulnerable state. Someone could hurt you. :(

• If you have the chills or are just cold, he will use his element to help you warm up. Just cuddle with him for a bit, and you'll start to feel better in no time.

• If you're worried about him getting sick, there's a high chance he'll laugh at you. He's a ghoul, baby. He won't get sick that easy. You don't have to worry about him.

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊

• He's the type of guy to make you chicken noodles soup when you're sick. Such a sweetheart.

Rain

• He will help you with anything and everything. You have chores to do, he's on it. You need something from the store, sweetheart, he's already there. You just need your meds, he's got them and a glass of water plus some food for you to have with it.

• He's so helpful and so so sweet. He's got everything you may need. A damp cloth if you have a fever, a blanket if you have chills (and himself, of course), a bucket just in case, any type of meds you may need. He loves you and wants you to get better as soon as possible.

• Please cuddle with him so he knows you're not going anywhere. He fears that, because you're a human, you may get worse, and he's practically terrified at the thought of losing you.

• He may read to you if you ask nicely, especially if you like classic literature, then he may be persuaded. (I fucking love classic literature so now everyone had to suffer because of it.)

• He will also take you to the lake during the day when it's warm. You can relax in the water and get some sun, it's a win-win.

• All together, Rain is a sweetheart and will do anything and everything in his power to make sure you have a speedy and smooth recovery.

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊

• Sweetheart 2.0

Phantom

• He makes sure you're doing okay, and his way of doing this is not leaving your side. He basically makes sure you don't leave until you're all better again, even if you do just have a common cold.

• Will put on a movie/show and cuddle with you to try and help you feel better.

• He may even play his guitar when he's with you. Just rest and let him play (show off).

• If you end up puking he's the type of guy to pull you hair back (if it's long enough) and rub your back while telling you it's all going to be okay and you'll start to feel better soon.

• He almost likes knowing that you can get sick. It reminds him that you're a human and that no matter what, you always will be. He loves that about you, even if you're sick. He rarely ever gets sick, so it comforts him knowing that you do.

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊

• Will 100% take you for a walk in the garden while he picks herbs to make a tea that will boost your immunity and help you recover faster.

Mountain

• He will also cook for you. He's amazing at it, and maybe one day he'll teach you his secrets.

• Will also take you to sit out in the sun with him, you need your vitamins after all, and what better way to get them than to cuddle in the sun with him?

• Another guy who helps you out if you have to puke, he will even help you clean up after. Don't worry if it's gross. It's natural for humans to get sick like this. He understands and wants to help you with it. He can also, if you're okay with it, of course, because consent is key, bathe you. He doesn't want anything sexual to come from it, just you two spending some time together.

• He encourages you to nap/sleep more. You need your rest! He also just likes to nap with you, but that's not the point.

• And don't worry about your chores or anything. He's already spoken to Copia about your condition, so you have as much time as you'll need to recover.

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊

• He's also going to make fun of you. But, considering it's Swiss, we should already know this.

Swiss

• He's going to make sure to check in on you. He won't be there by your side all the time, but he's there most of it.

• He makes sure to bring fun little games, bored games, cards, and anything else you may want to help you feel better.

• He gets Mountain to help him make a tea or something since he has no idea what to do. He can cook, kinda, but it's the idea that counts. He's trying his hardest for you.

• If you catch him searching up your symptoms on Google and then cuddling you and not leaving your side... no, you didn't.

• All together, he will be amazing towards you. Although there may be occasional teasing, he cares so much about you, you have him whipped for you.

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊

• She's one of the best people to be sick with (second to rain, but I'm very biased towards him), she will make sure everything is okay for you.

Cirrius

• No hesitation on pulling your hair back and rubbing your back, holding you close to her. She doesn't give two fucks about if it's gross or not, as long as you're okay, nothing else matters. She will also bathe you. She likes pampering you, whether you're sick or not.

• Big on getting sun while you're sick, she will also give you those vitamins gummies to help your immune system. If you're up for it, you two will sun bathe. Just you two and the sun, a relaxing afternoon to help take your mind off your current state.

• She will help you with your chores, but she also believes in exercise while you're sick to help your body, even if it's just doing your chores.

• Lots of sleeping with her, she's so comfortable. She also loves to just hold you close to her so she knows you're doing okay, so if you're sick and she suddenly pulls you away for a cuddle session, don't be surprised.

• Will do night in with you when you're sick, except they're modified. So you two will have soup and movies while doing facemasks and makeovers with you. She's so sweet, she loves you.

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊

• She will probably know you're sick before you know you're sick. She can just sense it.

Cumulus

• But when you do actually get sick and know it, she's got you. Damp cloth, bucket, soup, blanket, ice packs, she has it all.

• She's an amazing cook, like better than Mountain, and she knows how to make practically anything.

• If you want to get out and get some fresh air, she's all for it. You two could be out getting groceries or just out in the forest relaxing in the cool grass. She loves being outside, and if you feel good enough, you bet most of your time will be spent outdoors.

• I feel like she's a big cat lover, so you two will be down at a cat cafe or just hanging out with strays around the church. You both get to be outside, and you get to see a bunch of cute cats, win-win!

• Please watch movies with her, she knows you need some rest and relaxing time, and what better way to relax than to watch some movies with her?

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊

• She's very helpful, like Swiss she won't always be by your side, but she's there enough that you know she cares about you and wants to make sure you're doing okay.

Aurora

• She will 100% bring you outside to relax, right in the grass. The sun on you both and the cool grass underneath. It's perfect, and she can't think of a better way to help you get better than relaxing.

• If you want to do something, she's down for it, but she won't let you be out too long when you're sick. She doesn't want you to get worse just when you're starting to feel better.

• But don't you worry, she has plenty of ways that she can help you feel better. Most of these consist of sleeping and relaxing. But that's okay, you need it.

• She will do arts and crafts with you. It may sound childish, but you're sick and don't really want to do anything, so what better way to do something that's not too hard than arts and crafts. Glitter jars, painting, bracelet making, making a time capsule. She's down for it.

• Please let her pamper you. She needs to do it, it'll help you feel better because you won't have to do anything. She has everything taken care of, your chores, your nausea, fever, chills, and everything is taken care of.

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊

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multi-fandom-of-madness · 1 year ago

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Nameless Ghouls X Angel!Reader Headcanons

These are headcanons of how you - an angel - would meet the ghouls, and them realizing you were their mate.

Ghouls included: Dewdrop, Rain, Mountain, Swiss, Aether, Phantom, Cirrus, Cumulus, Sunshine, Aurora (if you want other ghouls, feel free to request)

Warnings: Injuries, mentions of blood

Notes: So these are a bit long, but I'm also going to make this into a series - read here on Ao3 - once the little stories have been written, I'll link them to each ghoul and put a color on each name, so you'll know who has a little story written

Dewdrop

You disguised yourself as a ghoul to get close to the Church, saying that you were a ghoul from another ministry sent to help around.

Once in, you met Dewdrop.

He was already suspicious, but he recognized you as his mate immediately. Thank Lucifer his mate was a ghoul.

Slowly, he started to realize how weird you acted. You tried explaining that you were just new to Earth, and that you were still figuring things out.

But he caught you.

He saw you alone, in the spot of the gardens where you two would hide, wings stretched out with an ethereal glow surrounding you as you prayed to God.

He is not happy about this at all.

What do you mean he’s mated to an angel?

The argument he had with you was one for the books. He was beyond upset, and you didn’t know how else to react, so you argued back, desperately trying to explain that although you lied, you truly loved him.

He will literally do everything in his power to avoid you until he physically can’t resist you, and once he does run back to you, you’re so kind to him, which stuns him.

He eventually softens and welcomes you into his life with hesitantly opened arms.

You’re very curious about his lifestyle and other things on earth that you’ve never seen from your above view in Heaven.

He actually explains things to you in such a gentle manner.

After being kicked out of Heaven, you immediately run to find him.

He’s shocked. The only bad thing you ever did was hang around him.

He was responsible for your fall, and this hurt him. He tried avoiding you again, but you wouldn’t let him.

He held you so tight every night, especially the ones where the memories of Heaven would flood back in.

You were his angel, and he wasn’t letting you go now that he’s let you in.

Rain

You weren’t even at the Abbey. You were in the middle of a random city because you were following Ghost’s tour.

One of the head angels sent you to keep tabs on them, which, looking back on it now, was a big mistake.

You were at a small, local coffee shop when you caught that first whiff of petrichor.

Oh, you were head over heels immediately.

Rain noticed you, but tried his best to keep his attention off of you. No way did he just catch the eye of an angel.

He left the coffee shop as soon as his order was ready, trying so desperately to escape your intoxicating scent, but it followed him.

Well, technically you followed him. You weren’t sure where he was even going, but you followed him anyway. And he let you.

He knew he would get in so much trouble, but tempting an angel? Now that was too good to pass up.

Once he put an end to the game, he confronted you. He explained the feelings both of you were hardly fighting, and you just kind of stared at him like a lost puppy.

He was so confused by you. Why are you – an angel – so entranced by him? Shouldn’t you be running? Shouldn’t he be ripping you to shreds? Apparently, neither of you cared enough to find out those answers.

You continued following him from city to city in a Romeo and Juliet kind of way.

Your secret meeting spot was coffee shops. It was away from ghouls, from angels, from anyone. The only reason the ghoul’s figured out what was up was because Rain always came back smelling…ethereal.

You fell once the head angel realized what happened when you kept visiting him after the tour ended.

You immediately ran to him, and he held you while you cried.

He was going to help you adjust to your new life, and he would fight for you to stay with him.

Even fallen, he loved you far too much to let you go.

Mountain

The most collected about this.

At first, he was so put off by it, but once he realized he wasn’t going to escape his feelings, he wanted to keep you.

His only concern was your purity. He didn’t want anything bad to happen to you, so he pushed you away.

It was such a conflicting feeling, and as much as he wanted to make you his, he just…couldn’t hurt you. He didn’t actually hate you of course, but he couldn’t see you ruin yourself for him.

He acted as though he hated you, so you pushed him. This was affecting your purity, and every visit made your feathers darken (metaphorically).

You fell on purpose, and he almost resented you for that.

Your life had been so good, why would you push yourself to him?

Heaven wasn’t as kind as people assumed, but you never told him that.

You just wanted to be near him, but Heaven was holding you back. Why couldn’t he see that?

He wanted to pull you close and protect you, but he was so conflicted.

He couldn’t decide what to do, and he punished himself by staying away, and punishing you all the same.

Once you told him about Heaven and how it wasn’t what was good for you, he was shocked.

He was angry.

He couldn’t believe that anyone would do anything so cruel to you…until he realized that he did.

He isolated you when you needed him the most, and that rubbed salt in the wound.

He held you so close and vowing never to leave you and that he wasn’t going to let anything hurt you again.

Swiss

He’s so protective of you.

Probably the most protective actually.

He couldn’t sleep. He just didn’t have a good feeling about the day.

So he went for a walk in the woods, which is where he saw you all bloody.

You were so scared. Scared of being kicked out of Heaven, scared of the ghoul you heard coming closer, scared of where you were, scared of everything.

Swiss couldn’t hurt you. You were his mate. You were in too much pain to put two and two together.

He brought you back to his room to patch you up. He was too hesitant about everything, but cleaned you up and even allowed help from some of the others.

He growled, snarled, snapped his fangs, and whatever else he could when any ghouls who weren’t actively helping you got too close.

You were his angel. Even if you were technically a fallen angel, you were his angel.

The other ghouls were ready to get on his ass for letting an angel in, but

Aether

He full on panics

He’s Papa’s favorite. He’s righteous. He hasn’t done anything for this to be his fate.

An angel? His mate? Wrong. Absolutely not.

You felt a pull to him. Like you just had to be next to him at all times.

He didn’t like it at all and constantly tried to force you away from him.

But you stuck to him like a fly in a glue trap.

He would snap his fangs, snarl, growl, show his claws, and even threaten to use his quintessence.

But you stayed for no reason other than to feel that static you felt when you were around him.

When Heaven found out about your attempts at getting closer to Aether, you were cast out.

And he…didn’t help. He freaked out again and left you.

It was a lot to pin on him, but he felt that he did this.

It might not have fully been his fault, but he believed that he was the cause of your misery.

He wanted to help, but he could feel every ounce of pain that Heaven inflicted onto you, and he couldn’t stand it.

It wasn’t until one of the other ghouls forced him to see you that he really let himself try to patch up his mistakes.

He was absolutely terrified seeing how much pain you were in, but he slowly began to help.

But trusting him was hard…it happened slowly, but he helped you and you couldn’t help but let him in.

And he promised never to push you away. He promised to never let you get hurt. He promised to never leave you again.

Phantom

Once he finally got control of his glamour, he was allowed out of the Ministry.

Swiss had taken him to a shopping mall, letting him explore and choose his own style (on Copia’s dime of course).

They were taking a break at an Auntie Anne’s when he smelled something absolutely fantastic – and no, it wasn’t the cinnamon sugar pretzels.

Even as Swiss tried to reel him back, he walked over to you. Apparently he needed to get more than just his glamour under control to hide his ghoulish tendencies.

He came up and sniffed around you, making sure that the scent was indeed yours.

He was intrigued, and began asking you millions of questions in the middle of the mall.

Swiss finally pulled him away and took him back to the Ministry, and you…you didn’t know why, but you followed. Secretly, but you still followed.

You roamed the gardens at night, and he came out when he realized that the smell wasn’t just in his imagination.

His ghoul form entranced you, and you decided then and there that you wanted to fall.

There were nightly visits for about a month before you got the warning from Heaven.

He didn’t want you to fall. You were so pure and beautiful…but then he thought about you being a fallen angel. No limitations to your relationship.

So you fell. It was a painful break, but he was there for you.

He held you as you cried, did his best to cheer you up, and helped you find your place in the Ministry. He helped you find your place in the world.

Cirrus

It’s a situation similar to Mountain’s.

You were trying to fall. Trying to give God a reason to cast you out.

When she meets you, she’s confused and doesn’t know what to do.

She doesn’t know whether to push you away or pull you in.

It’s a lot of fighting and a lot of back and forth.

The two of you almost hated each other, but you couldn’t stand to be away from her.

You had already fallen, but there was something about you that was still so heavenly, and she couldn’t stand it.

She was one of the toughest ghouls, but slowly, her hard exterior began to chip away.

You broke her down and forced her to show her vulnerability.

And when she did, you saw just how scared she was.

But you were there to help her, and she was going to help you.

Cumulus

You were just a curious little thing, and she was excited to help.

Everyone thinks Cumulus is soft, but she was beyond thrilled to make you fall.

She’s decently possessive, and Heaven had their claws on what belonged to her.

She helped you learn Earthly ways while sneaking in her own corruption.

But when you did fall? She was terrified.

You were hurt, and she caused it. She didn’t want to see you.

She let the pack tend to you and your wounds.

She only saw you again when you made your way into her room, nothing but a blanket covering you.

She sobbed at the sight of you, and held you so tight.

You were her angel, and she messed up. Even though you’d forgiven her, she felt that she messed up, and she wasn’t going to forgive herself.

Sunshine

This happened in the weirdest way.

She was literally watching Lilo and Stitch, and that one scene where Lilo is praying. Sunshine thought it would be funny to try it out herself.

Walking over to the window, she kneeled down in front of it. “Maybe send me an angel. The nicest angel you have,” she repeated, folding her hands and giggling heavily.

Well giggling until she heard a very chipper “hello” from her bed.

And there you were: wings, golden glow, even pretty robes.

“What the fuck!” “Well that’s not very nice.”

There is an angel. On her bed. And a really really pretty angel at that.

She’s insanely curious as to who you were, and why you chose to come to the call of a demon in a satanic church.

You explain that you were sent to help the sinner in question (her) repent. Because obviously that's why she called you.

She had to explain that she was just joking of course, and that honestly just confused you.

You were very curious about the demon, and she was very curious about you.

There were visits at least once a week to each other after that.

You were given a warning, which is extremely generous of the head angels to give. They only gave you one more chance to stop your visits.

You began feeling guilty about lying, but you stopped visiting. Until you heard that same call. How could you resist?

You came back to her, and she managed to get you to stay the night.

You woke up earlier than her, and quietly rolled out of bed. As you looked in the mirror, you saw the feathers in your wings. Some still white, others graying, and others pitch black. You had fallen.

She felt so guilty, but honestly was more glad. No more restraints from Heaven keeping you from her. She was going to be your forever protector.

Aurora

Similar to Sunny, she summoned you on complete accident.

Sometimes, ghouls will read the bible for shits and giggle, and she was reading random scriptures. In between the pages was a random paper scribbled with incantations on how to summon an angel.

She watched Hocus Pocus one time, and decided that being a witch was her new favorite thing, so of course she decided to play around.

She was curious, and wanted to see what would happen.

So she summoned you on a random Tuesday.

Your curiosity matched hers perfectly.

She taught you all of the human things that she was taught.

She was so proud of herself!! She even showed you off to Cirrus.

Cirrus gave her a look of “what the actual everloving fuck?” and told her that you had to go.

Both of you refused, but soon, you felt a tug pulling you back to Heaven.

It was months before you returned.

Aurora became very depressed, only coming out of her room when forced. Heaven realized that you were feeling the same way over a demon.

They kicked you out immediately.

Cirrus was the first to find you after you fell, and immediately took you to Aurora.

Aurora immediately curled around you, keeping you protected and safe from the atrocities Heaven committed against you.

You were pulled from her once, and it would not happen again.

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