#gaston x reader

[blueninjablade3]

Psssst I got the goods… aka… HOW THE DISNEY MEN REACT TO IT BEING YOUR BIRTHDAY! It’s my birthday in March so I wanted to write this and indulge myself. This was run through Grammarly once so it’s probably not that good. This is also partially my answer to requests from two lovely Anons! I apologize to this anon as I don’t currently write for AMAB unless it’s important to the plot. For example like reader has testicular cancer. Or AFAB birth having issues with their periods! But thank you so much for your sweet words and ask! I really home you enjoy this little section of romantic headcanons 💖

How Do The Disney Men React to it being your birthday!

Jafar

A chance to spoil, show pony, and get in even better graces with his partner? Sign him up! He adores it when he shows off how he’s better than everyone! He gets you flowers, expensive high-quality jewelry, and a few other expensive gifts. He treats you on your special day! He does his best to get work as Grand Vizer done early so he can spend time with you. Also, Iago makes it everyone’s business that it’s your birthday. It’s how he shows his love.

Frollo

After two Google searches, I concluded that birthdays weren’t widely celebrated in France. HOWEVER! This is my house, and I do what I want. Frollo, as always, brings Christianity into the conversation and praises the lord out of left field. He gets you some nice gifts though! A bunch of grapes, wine, and other French delicacies. Also, really wanna cannon young Quasimodo makes you either wooden carvings or l cute little kid's birthday cards. He has a certain glimmer in his eyes as he does so.

Gaston

Honestly? He’s a mix of Frollo and Clayton. He’s like Clayton in that he does all the stuff to celebrate that, ie teaching you to hunt or getting you a nice gift. But like Frollo in the sense birthdays weren’t commonly celebrated yet. But it becomes the ENTIRE village’s problem when it’s your birthday. Not that anyone was really complaining. Nobody celebrates birthdays like Gaston

Alameda Slim

This man makes you breakfast in bed with the Willie Brothers! Just… don’t ask how long it took and how much screaming took place for this to happen. It’s not important anyway! The boys also make you those cute little cards that kids make 🥹. Alameda seems like the type to give you flowers and a handwritten note to his S/O for their birthday. He may or may not have also yodeled Happy Birthday with a huge grin plastered on his face.

Hades

I refuse to hear ANYTHING but he spoils you rotten. He’s a god. He has the funds and when he sees that cute and adorable look on your face?! Priceless! He treats you to anything and everything you want! Doesn’t even have his daily scheming meeting with Pain and Panic! He wants to spend every last hour and drachma on you.

Clayton

Okay, no one can tell me that he won’t at least ATTEMPT to teach you how to hunt for your birthday! Not big game or anything! He tries so hard to convince you but you don’t budge. He still gets you something pretty nice that you would like. I personally like to think he got you both matching rings, he likes to wear his on a necklace chain while hunting. You get your choice of dinner, alcohol (if you're into alcohol), and venue.

Y’all. No Captain Hook this time. This ALMOST feels like a crime. Almost. Anyway have a wonderful remaining scroll

[classic-disney-imagines]

The sorceress

Pairing: Animated!Jafar x sorceress!reader

Requested: @hisokajackson

Warnings: None

Note: Thank you for this request!!!

~

Over the years as a sorceress, you play it by ear when it comes to dealing with your enemies.

That meaning being you let them play you do that you can play them just the same, only more intelligent.

You were known to be a villain; known to be not only very powerful, but very smart, wise, and atop all, calculating. Not only were you all of that, but you were an elegant soul with an attractive personality. The kind of personality that easily attracts people to you, both men and women. Most of the time being men, of course, the kind of men you had no desire to have anything to with him and it was like that for you to believe to be the story of your life. You were honestly prepared to live your life without a partner, or even finding an interest in someone until you met Jafar.

When you first saw Jafar, it was when you started living in the palace as a maid in disguise. You knew all along that Jafar was plotting to become sultan and take over the palace and nearby village. You knew of his diabolical plan, most important, you wanted in on his plan. The only thing is, you have walked by a closed door quite a few times as you listened in before finally confronting Jafar one day of what you know. You were eavesdropping once more and you come to realize Jafar’s plan indeed had reached a good level, though there are changes in it that must be made if he wants it to work, and that’s when you step in. By the time you confront him, you already had a few ideas in mind.

The night Jafar retuned from falsely imprisoning Aladdin, you made the move confronting him and he went quick to deny it at first, but you were quick to change his mind. You were gifted with the power of persuasion and it didn’t take long to persuade Jafar to accept your request.

“Jafar, may I have a moment of your time?” you ask in a loving tone.

“I suppose so. What can I do for you?”

“Listen, I know about your diabolical plan to become the sultan.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle watching Jafar’s eyes widen of this information before he quickly denies your claim.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. You must have me confused with another Jafar.”

That statement had given you the laugh of a lifetime before you could even settle and take it easy, just enough to say where you’re going with this.

“You’re not about to get in trouble by me, I reassure you. Anyways, I know about your plan and I want in.”

Now it was Jafar’s turn to be confused, he couldn’t believe what he had just heard.

“W-what?”

“I want in.” you repeat.

Truth be told, you wanted that kind of power as well and you were willing to just about anything to get it, to accomplish that.

Jafar didn’t agree to it right away, but all it took was for you to share some ideas that you thought would work best if you put both ideas together. You continue to share more ideas that can fit perfectly with his own plans as you explain with reason why working together instead of alone would be the best way to become successful in this plot. Jafar was pleased and impressed with the ideas you had come up with and shared, that helped to earn you a spot next to him as you continue to help Jafar reach his goals.

Another idea had come through to you and Jafar took it for piece it together with his own plan.

“What do you think?”

“I love the way your foul little mind works.” Jafar laughed hysterically.

Jafar’s reaction was better than expected, but it brought a smile to your lips, lighting up your face like a Christmas tree.

This all just felt so right.

~~~

[knoepfl]

The Hunter’s Soft Heart

Characters:

Gaston: The self-assured, brawny hunter of the village who loves praise and attention but is caught off guard by Adeline’s quiet admiration.

Adeline Rousseau (OC): A shy, soft-spoken woman who arrives in the village to care for her sick aunt. Though timid, she admires Gaston’s strength and confidence, feeling safe in his presence.

LeFou: Gaston’s devoted friend and sidekick, always trailing behind to offer compliments and keep his spirits high.

Trigger Warnings: None.

Masterlist

Words: 790

Part 2 Part 3

A New Face in the Village

Adeline Rousseau’s steps faltered as she approached the edge of the village, her heart fluttering with both nerves and purpose. The distant chatter of the market reached her ears, a lively contrast to the quiet town s7he had left behind. She wasn’t used to bustling places like this, but there had been no hesitation when her aunt Margot’s letter arrived. Her aunt had raised her, and now it was Adeline’s turn to return the care.

Though unfamiliar with healing magic, Adeline knew the basics of herbal remedies and hoped to make her aunt’s final months more comfortable. With a small bag on her shoulder and her shawl wrapped tightly around her, she stepped into the heart of the village, hoping to go unnoticed.

But in a place like this, new faces rarely went unnoticed.

-----

Gaston stood outside the tavern, adjusting his collar while basking in the glow of the admiration from a passing group of villagers. By his side, as always, was LeFou, his loyal sidekick, grinning up at him like an eager puppy.

“I tell you, LeFou,” Gaston said, tilting his head with a smug grin, “Belle doesn’t know what she’s missing. But I won’t waste time on lost causes.”

“Of course not!” LeFou chirped, nodding enthusiastically. “Who needs Belle when every other woman in town is dying to be with you?”

“Exactly.” Gaston’s gaze swept across the marketplace, searching for his next source of entertainment. That’s when he saw her—a slender woman with an auburn braid, her head lowered as she hurried through the crowd, clutching a bundle of herbs. She wasn’t giggling or fawning over anyone. In fact, she looked as if she hoped no one would notice her at all.

Naturally, Gaston took that as a challenge.

He straightened his posture, nudging LeFou with a smirk. “Watch this.”

----

“Hello there, sweetheart!” Gaston’s booming voice stopped Adeline in her tracks.

She looked up, startled, meeting the eyes of a man who seemed to radiate confidence. He stood tall—broad-shouldered and imposing—with a grin that practically demanded attention. And beside him, a smaller man gave her an encouraging nod, as if to say, Yes, this is really happening.

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” Gaston continued, folding his arms in a way that made the muscles in his biceps bulge. “What brings a pretty girl like you to our little village?”

Adeline swallowed, her cheeks warming under his gaze. “I—I’m here to take care of my aunt. She’s unwell.”

“Well, well,” Gaston said, leaning in slightly, “you’ve come to the right place. And lucky for you, I’m the strongest man in town.”

LeFou chimed in, “And the most handsome! Don’t forget handsome, Gaston!”

Gaston chuckled. “Yes, yes, I suppose that too.” His blue eyes flickered back to Adeline, who was fidgeting nervously with the herbs in her hands. “And what’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Adeline,” she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur.

“Adeline,” Gaston repeated slowly, savoring the sound of it. “A lovely name for a lovely girl.”

LeFou gave a small cheer, clapping his hands together. “Oh, you’re good, Gaston. You’re really good.”

Adeline smiled softly, her gaze flickering between the two men. “Thank you,” she whispered shyly, lowering her head again.

“You know,” Gaston said, stepping closer so she could feel the warmth of his presence, “I don’t often meet women who aren’t falling over themselves to talk to me.”

“I’m sorry,” Adeline murmured, her blush deepening. “I… I didn’t mean to be rude.”

Gaston chuckled, his grin widening. “Not rude at all, darling. In fact, I like it. You’re different. And you’ve got good taste—seeing as you’ve noticed how strong and handsome I am.”

Adeline bit her lip, looking down at the cobblestones. “It’s hard not to notice.”

That was all Gaston needed to hear. His chest puffed with pride, and he flashed a triumphant grin. “Well, Adeline,” he said, “if you need anything while you’re here—anything at all—you come to me. I’ll take care of it.”

Adeline’s hazel eyes met his briefly, and in that small glance, Gaston saw something that made his heart stir—a quiet admiration that felt unlike anything he’d ever experienced. It wasn’t wild or desperate. It was soft, steady, and somehow far more satisfying.

LeFou gave Gaston a nudge and whispered, “I think she likes you.”

“Of course she does,” Gaston whispered back with a smirk, but inside, he felt something he hadn’t expected—an urge to protect this girl, not just impress her.

As Adeline gave him a small, timid smile, Gaston felt, for the first time, that being admired for who he was—just as he was—might actually mean more than being praised for his looks or strength.

---

Author’s Note:

Thank you for reading! This story is my take on a softer, more romantic side of Gaston. Adeline’s character is meant to offer a contrast to his boisterous personality, showing that even someone as bold as Gaston can find value in quiet admiration and kindness. I hope you enjoyed this little glimpse into their meeting, and I’d love to hear your thoughts or ideas for future scenes!

[pastelpousay]

Disney Villans reaction to reader calling them little omega 💀

A/N:just so we’re all clear..this shit is clearly a joke I just thought this was funny all of this is a joke even the warnings

Warnings: fluff, some cursing..(sorry pook I’m a bit of a sailor)mentions of tough alpha zaddy, mentions of super submissive omega uwu senpapi

Jafar:

Was like actually shocked…

What tf did you just say??

“Excuse me..??”

Little Omega

Bitch wtf

Then when you repeat yourself…

He’s bewildered

“I know for a fact you didn’t just call me that”

HE DOESNT EVEN KNOW WHAT THE HELL OMEGA MEANS

Im pretty sure once he does find out what that means

He’s never gonna look at you the same again

Especially with the given context and the voice you said it in

He just sort of side eyes you now

Okay but on a real note is actually wondering what the hell is wrong with you…

“It’s okay little omega” bitch what????

He just stands there in shock, trying not to cringe

Is still wondering what’s wrong with you

That was so random and it came out of no where he knows your joking and all but like…

That was unnecessary and unneeded 😐

And if you ever call him that in public….

He’s currently fighting the urge to actually kill you

What tf is wrong with you

He doesn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea about either on of you

So don’t call him that in public…or at all actually 😃

Like he knows your joking but also…be normal

“My dear…do you have to joke around like this?? It’s a bit odd my love..”

“It’s okay if you can’t handle these big alpha jokes little omega, you’ll get used to them soon”

“In what world are you the quote on quote “alpha””

“This one”

Every time you call him that be prepared to have a full blown conversation about who would be the alpha

And jafar is dead set on taking that alpha spot 💀

Hades(my man 😍):

He just gave you this super unamused look

He gets the joke, and the reference but he’s actually done with you….

How he gets the reference we’ll never know 🤷🏾‍♀️

Sometimes if he’s feeling playful he’ll play along but that’s in private…..but never do this bs in public

Or infront of pain and panic

He’d actually just end all three of you right then and there

“Hey little omega how was work??”

“…….okay you need to stop, babe..it’s getting out of hand”

“What’re you talking about, are you forgetting I’m the alpha wolf here little one???”

“….—_— get away from me..”

No but like he’s actually done with you

Why

he gets the joke but like….

Like I said before he does play along with you so remember if he gets on your ass about it remember to take note of what he says when he does play along

“Hey there my little omaga…how are you today”

“Good my big strong alpha wolf”

“…….screenshotted!!-“

“Wait what…wtf is a screenshot??”

IM THE ALPHA IM THE LEADER IM THE ONE TO TRUST

And also just like jafar, he likes to fight over which role he is

“I told you before little pup, you aren’t ready to be an alpha”

“Do I look little to you….”

yea, he also sometimes does genuinely wonder if you’re joking are not..

How would he know he’s not a mind reader

It’s like a 30-40 % chance…

He often just brushes the topic aside

I mean it’s weird yes but it’s not like he’ll love you any less

Pain and panic have definitely overheard some of those conversations

Don’t tell hades 💗

Gaston:

His reaction to that information:

No like literally he would make this exact face 💀

He didn’t get the reference or that it was even a joke in the first place

What does ‘omega’ even mean???

I’m pretty sure he’d be the only one to never question you about it and just rolling with it for the hell of it 😭😭💀

He secretly wonders if your joking or not

He sure is hoping so..

He won’t play along with you either he’ll just kinda look at you funny

Or he’ll roll his eyes and or chuckle a bit

Not even knowing what that even is

He secretly questions why he likes you

What drove him to like Such a…

Freak…

Lightheartedly of course 😙

He will still question if there’s something wrong with you

He just now registered that it’s a joke but like

Why can’t you be normal…

What was the reason???

He doesn’t understand it

No matter how many times you explain he’s still confused

Your only allowed to do this in public because he doesn’t understand what an ‘omega’ is

Once he does….

Ngl his goofy ass would probably be shellschocked 💀💀 not even upset about it 💀😭

But like…he’s still salty about it

And if you guys ever have a disagreement he’ll definitely bring that up

Like it’s fucking blackmail 😭💀

“I DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT THE HELL THAT IS!!”

“…that’s why I’m the alpha bitch 🐺🤫🧏‍♂️”

Meanwhile he doesn’t even know what blackmail means probably 💀

He’s so fucking goofy bro- i love him sm

Dr. Failicer

I’m gonna be dead honest….

He knew you had to have been joking…there’s no way you just said that and now have the audacity to laugh about it in his face

“….your ass better be joking…”

He said that in more of a warning tone if anything

Like he’d loose his mind if you were actually being serious

Now that he knows you aren’t(for sure)

He can somewhat live in peace (not really)

Still thinks your a mega freak

Lowkey uses this shit as blackmail

He always gives you that look after you say some shit like that

Like it’s either that 100 yard stare or the “Ik you didn’t” ahh look

“Hello baby, my little omega-“

“Tf is wrong with you-“

He gets used to ur bullshit after a while but like and starts to laugh with you about it

But still don’t do this shit in public with him

There will be an argument about it

Everytime you do it now he just smiles and rolls his eyes choosing not respond with to you bs

“Pookie butt omega…why’re ignoring me 🥺🥺🥺”

“…chér…..just……be normal for once please”

Bro is begging 💀

Don’t get me wrong he thinks it’s funny and all but still 😭😭😭

Your lucky he loves you enough to deal with this type of buffoonery

Hook (ft jake and the neverland pirates cuz jake is his son 🤫🧏‍♂️)

Definitely had to do a double take….

The only thing he got out of that was ‘little’

But still wtf💀

“……what’re you on about dear….”he says pinching in between his brows

He doesn’t even know what that means

Nor will he get the reference

Probably ever

And even then he’s still done with you and your bs

Don’t get caught doing this shit when Peter is around either

Or his crew for that matter

If you do it in front of Mr. Smee they’ll be giving each other that look💀💀

“Are they okay??”

“I think the barnacles are starting to get to them”

💀💀💀

Ngl this shit would probably spread to jake so quick it’s not even funny💀💀

“You don’t get it dad your not an alpha wolf like the rest of us 💪🐺” 💀💀💀

By this point he’d actually just turn a blind eye to it

He’s so done with you

First Mr. smee now jake??

Wow

Might as well the rest of the crew huh??

The only person that knows what an alpha is is probably jake and that’s cause you taught him 💀💀

He gets that your joking and all (now at least)

After a while it’s probably just be such a normal occurrence to the point he just gives up

“Hey little omaga, how are you??”

“Good my…..alpha-“ he shudders at the thought of even calling you that but I digress

Still don’t do this infront of the crew 💀💀

You already got jake in on it he doesn’t need his crew knowing about what a freak you are….but hey he loves that freak right?? 😭😭

Just kidding your not a freak

Just a bit of a weirdo

And talking with you definitely doesn’t get old

Frollo (haven’t watched this movie in a while so forgive me if this isn’t accurate)

Your ass is getting crucified idk what to tell you 🧍🏾‍♀️

Jk(not really)

He’d definitely be baffled

He give you this disgusted look then shake his head before walking away

He needs at least an hour long break from you after that 😭💀

He never would have thought you would’ve done something like this

But whatever

He didn’t register it was a joke but while he’s taking his break from you he’d probably figure it out

He still thinks it’s a really weird joke

It doesn’t even make sense😭

He questions you about it later

In the end he still doesn’t get the point of the joke

“How is that funny in any way shape or form”

“It just is”

“It just isn’t”

“But it is”

“But it’s not”

“Shut the fuck up little omega daddy’s always right🤫🧏‍♂️”

Que frollo fainting

You two will usually go back and forth about this topic

After a while he won’t even care to argue about it anymore it just becomes a borderline normal occurrence

Key word borderline

He still thinks it mega weird no matter whether it’s a joke or not

It’s exasperating for him at this point

“Why must you you be this way?”

“It’s funny to see you upset 🥳”

Another one of villans whos done with you shit

Everytime you do it it gives him a migraine

But hey it’s worth it to keep his love entertained right?? 😭

Maleficent

Her actual reaction not even kidding

What’s wrong with you man??

She just looked at you

It wasn’t even worth it to her to respond 💀

Your lucky she didn’t turn you into a rat after that 💀💀

She knows you were joking

The joke just didn’t land

“…….omega…….?? I’m the omega here???”

“…….sorry pookie🧎”

She soon realizes she made a mistake by not checking you behavior

Because you kept at it

Now the only response you get is her face scrunching up in disgust

It’s so funny bro 😭😭

“How’s my little omega kitten today, mally??”

“…….I should have turned you into a salamander when I had the chance 🤦‍♀️”

There’s not really much else

There’s not really anyone else around that can catch you doing it

But if they were to shed actually just kill you both 💀💀

She’s sick of you to say the least

She knows you joking why can’t you be normal or quiet at least

Definitely questioning why she hasn’t killed you yet or why she loves you for that matters

When you do this you might doubt if she does at all but her not turning you into the rat you are should be proof enough 🥳🥳

I would have added the others but I got hella lazy and I had already spent over a week on this so enjoy little omegas of the world 🥳🥳🥳 I might add more later but who knows

I’m never writing again /j

[t-the-ring-master]

Anyone have a beauty and the beast x reader fan fic recommendations?

Preferably female reader or even gender neutral reader that’s also sfw?

Can be beast or even Gaston. Platonic or romantic. I’ve been hyper fixating on it again and just wanna read something. Or heck, even an AU one where it’s a character as the beast. I just really want beauty and the beast fics rn.

AO3, tumbler, or quotev are all good sites to read on for me. So please give me recommendations!

[motorsportbarbie13]

Post It - Part 7 - LN4

when lando stumbles upon a random tiktok of a pretty american influencer, he can't stop himself from sliding into her DMs. what happens next is more than both of them ever bargained for.

|| - Part 1 || - Part 2 || - Part 3 || - Part 4 || - Part 5 || - Part 6 || Master List

warnings & notes: lil bit of smut at the end. swearing. As always, thanks to @lestapiastrisgirl for the external validation, even if she does forget about me sometimes. 😁 pairing: lando norris x influencer!reader word count: 4.6k words

The blistering Miami heat beat down on the paddock early Friday morning, the humidity hanging in the air thick and heavy. It clung to everything like a damp blanket, even this early. Outside the air-conditioned haven of McLaren’s hospitably, the sun was already blazing hot overhead and you were regretting your choice of spots for breakfast. 

You and Lando sit at a small shaded table just outside the doors of building, half eaten breakfast of fruit and whatever else your boyfriend had chosen sits scattered between you. The air buzzes with the low hum of generators and the distant roar of engines being prepped for the first and only practice session of the weekend. Lando sits across from you, a mix of nervous energy and focused calm radiating off of him as he scrolls through his phone, occasionally glancing up at you as if he’s checking to make sure you’re still there. The moment you two had been reunited yesterday, it had felt like a giant weight lifted right off his shoulders. He’d slept so well last night, better than he had in what felt like weeks, with you tucked up against him, limbs tangled together and his arms curled securely around your middle. 

He felt focused as he sat watching the replay of the weekend warmup show from his phone, prepped after a win in Saudi Arabia and confident from his maiden win here last year. You were just happy to have today off to a better start compared to yesterday, despite the fact that the heavy humidity was already making your skin prickle in protest. 

Just as a comfortable silence settles over the table, punctuated by the clink of cutlery and the distant shout of an engineer, Hannah breezes over, a whirlwind of energy. You hadn’t seen her for a few weeks either, as she had needed to go home to California for a bit but with the race being state-side this weekend, she was able to make it. 

“If it isn’t my two favorite love birds.” Hannah teases as she pulls out a chair before plopping down beside you. “I heard you guys caused quite the PR nightmare yesterday.” 

You scoff, looking pointedly at Lando. “Hey now, that wasn’t my fault!” 

Lando rolls his eyes, dismissing Hannah’s teasing with a wave of his hand. “It’s fine. I made it up to her last night, didn’t I baby?” 

The smug look on his face has Hannah choking on her water and you reaching over to swat at his arm while you shout, “Lando Norris!” 

Lando holds his hands up in a show of mock innocence, “What? You’re going to look at me and tell me that I’m wrong.” 

Brows raised, you have to admit can’t really argue with him. As soon as he had gotten you back to the hotel room late last night, your clothes had been on the floor and had remained there until Lando’s alarm had gone off early this morning. He had pulled you to the edge so many times over the course of the night, in both his bed and this morning in the shower as you were getting ready for the day that you were still deliciously sore as you sat next to him in the paddock. 

“Okay, that’s enough from you two.” Hannah says, nose wrinkled in distaste. “Come on,” She stands before turning to you, hands on her hips. “Can we go find Alexandra? Ferrari always has the best iced coffee, better than anything Red Bull has.” 

You laugh, leaning over to press a kiss to Lando’s mouth. “Yeah, I need some extra caffeine this morning, don’t I Lan?” 

“Enough!” Hannah groans. 

“You’re both traitors.” Lando mutters as he watches you take a few steps away. “McLaren’s coffee is just fine.” 

“Oh stop. You know that is total lie.” You say, hands on your hips. “Ferrari has the best food in the paddock.” 

Lando captures your waist in his arms, pulling you closer. If he was going to suffer the backlash from the comms team after his little slip up yesterday, he was certainly going to enjoy his new found freedom in being able to paw at you openly in public. “Fine, but don’t forget I need a good luck kiss before quali this afternoon.” He says, bottom lip poking out in a over exaggerated pout. 

Hannah rolls her eyes, “You can have her back for lunch, Lando. I told you we’d share custody of her, didn’t I?” 

“Fine, but make sure she’s back in time so I don’t have to send out the authorities to look for her. I don’t want to have to take you to court for modified visitation.” 

“Okay! That’s enough with the divorced parents analogy, thank you!” You grab Hannah’s arm before the two can bicker over you even more. “Let’s go find some decent coffee before you two start drawing up a custody agreement.” 

You and Hannah navigate the bustling paddock, weaving your way though the throngs of team personnel, media, and VIP guests. The air is thick with the smell of fuel and the hum of voices, loud and excited in anticipation of this weekend’s races. It doesn’t take long before you’re standing in front of Ferrari’s hospitality, a hive of activity surrounded by a sea of scarlet and yellow. After a few moments you spot Charles LeClerc’s girlfriend Alexandra sitting by herself at an outdoor table. 

“There she is.” Hannah says, nudging you with her elbow. “Lets go say hi.” 

You’d met Alexandra back in Japan and had instantly clicked with the brunette. You had a lot in common and had instantly bonded over your shared love of art and her dog Leo. You and Hannah approach, exchanging quick hugs and cheek kisses before quickly catching up on the latest gossip, most of which seemed to center around you lately. After catching up in the latest goings on and getting some of the coveted iced coffee you were craving, Hannah suggests a walk to stretch your legs before the first practice session. 

“Let’s see if we can find some shade.” Alex suggests, gesturing towards a less crowded area of the paddock. “I’m already melting, this humidity is so gross.” 

As the three of you stroll along, the noise of the garages fading into a dull roar, you find yourselves walking down a less frequented path towards the back corner of the paddock. The air is still thick with heat, but a slight breeze offers you a small reprieve and you start to feel your body adjust to the heat. 

Suddenly, Hannah stops in her tracks, mouth dropping open when she spots a familiar figure standing a few feet ahead of your group. You follow her line of sight and when you see who she’s starting at your stomach flips very unpleasantly. 

Allegra. 

“What the fuck is she doing here?” You hiss, heart hammering so hard against your ribcage, you’re surprised you don’t bruise something. 

“You don’t think Lando…” Alexandra lets the sentence hang in the air but you’re shaking your head before her thought is even completed. 

“No, he showed me the messages between him and her weeks ago. There was never anything going on.” 

“Well don’t look now but she’s coming over here.” Hannah warns, sliding her sunglasses up into her hair so she can fully glare at the blonde walking towards you with a smug grin on her face. 

You thought it would probably not be a good look if you punched her, but you considered it anyways. As she approached you felt a pang of insecurity rush through you just looking at her long blond hair, wondering how she kept it looking so perfect in the Miami humidity. She was thinner than you, perfectly tanned and was flashing you a blindingly white smile that reminded you of a shark circling it’s prey. 

“Well well,” Her voice is light and airy, the perfect innocent tone that would lull anyone into a false sense of security. “If it isn’t my replacement.” 

Beside you, Alex huffs and you can practically hear her roll her eyes. 

“Replacement?” You tilt your head to the side, studying her as if she’s a strange creature that’s crossed your path. You’ve dealt with mean girls before and have this act down pretty good, even if you have to fake it with the way your heart rate has jumped sky high since you saw her. “Honey, there was nothing to replace. You and Lando were never anything other than a desperate attempt to drum up some positive PR for the both of you, nothing more.” 

To your surprise, Allegra smirks like a cat with a mouse in its jaws. “Then why did he invite me to Saudi Arabia a few weeks ago?” 

You blink, caught off guard at her question. You’d heard through the grapevine that she had been spotted skulking around the circuit and in the city but nothing had surfaced proving that she had been at the race. Had Lando invited her? Your previous confidence in his sincerity waned for just a brief moment as you thought back to yesterday and how you felt like something had been off. Had you trusted Lando too quickly? 

And then Alex spoke up. 

“That’s a bunch of bullshit and you know it, Allie.” Allegra’s eyes flare in anger at the nickname you knew she reserved for Lando alone. “I was at the race all weekend and I didn’t see you at all. Not a single hint of that cheap perfume you’re wearing, and let me tell you, I can smell that shit from a mile away.” 

You blink in surprise at your friend. If there was one thing Alex was, it was quiet. Once you got her alone, she was downright chatty but out in the paddock with the public? She was quite reserved. 

“Just because you didn’t see me doesn’t mean I wasn’t in his hotel room all weekend.” 

Now it was your turn to laugh, the doubt that had been clutching at your heart for the last few moments dissipating as quickly as it had come. “I was on FaceTime with him pretty much any time he was in his room, Allie.” 

“It’s Allegra.” She hisses. 

“What are you even doing here?” Hannah asks, taking a sip of her coffee before flicking her gaze away from the blonde as if she was bored out of her mind. “Did you not see Lando’s interview with Crofty yesterday? Their posts right after?” 

“I know a PR relationship when I see one.” She sniffs but you can tell you’ve unnerved her. Allegra hadn’t totally thought this through. Either that or she was just dumb enough to think that she could have the upper hand here still. 

“Of course you do!” You laugh, swirling the ice around in your coffee. “You spent the last year pretending to date someone who barely tolerated you.” 

As Allegra sputters, searching for a response, your phone begins to ring. “Hi baby.” You say, glaring directly at woman opposite you who has turned bright red in the last few moments. “Yeah, of course, we’ll be right there. We’re just finishing up with a fan. Of course I’ll say hi for you. See you soon!” 

You swear you see steam coming out of Allegra’s ears as you glance over at Hannah and Alex next to you. “Lando got out of his engineering meeting early and apparently feels the need for a pre-practice kiss.” You turn back to Allegra, smirk on your face. “Athletes and their superstitions, am I right?” 

Before Allegra has a chance to respond, you spin on your heel and walk away, leaving her standing in a deserted part of the paddock alone. 

When you’re out of earshot of her, Hannah speaks up, her voice wary. “Should we tell Lando she’s here? Maybe McLaren PR? I don’t think that’s going to be the last time we hear from her this weekend.” 

You shake your head, “Not right now. Lando doesn’t need any distractions. He was pretty anxious this morning about the sprint and I don’t want anything to take his focus away from that. I’ll tell him tonight.” 

The darkened hotel room was a stark contrast to the frantic energy of the Miami paddock that you had spent your day in. The air conditioning hummed softly, a cool, artificial breeze that did little to dissipate the residual heat that was clinging tightly to your skin. Outside, the city throbbed with the sounds of Miami on a Friday night. It felt as though everyone was out enjoying everything that the city had to offer, but in the hotel room that you shared with Lando? The suffocating silence that hung in the air was almost too much to handle. 

Sprint qualifying had been a complete disaster, a series of unfortunate events that included a deleted push lap in SQ3 and getting stuck in dirty air behind George on his second attempt. The difficulties had resulted in a disappointing P7 start for tomorrow, further advancing Lando’s distaste for sprint weekends. He’d carried that frustration back to the hotel, the tension radiating off of him in palpable waves as he laid on the bed in just his boxers. Even with you wrapped around him, his normal playful demeanor was replaced by a dark, brooding intensity. 

You weren’t feeling much better though, to be honest. Seeing Allegra earlier in the day had really spooked you. Lando hadn’t made any indication that he knew she was here this weekend and you still fully believed that he hadn’t invited her to the Saudi race but there was something so unsettling about her presence here. Like she had expected to be welcomed back into Lando’s orbit with open arms. Like you didn’t even exist to her. It felt disrespectful and unnerving to have her in town, even if you felt secure in your relationship with your boyfriend. 

The silence stretched, thick and uncomfortable, broken only by the soft rusty of the sheets as you tracked idle patterns on Lando’s skin with your fingertips. Your boyfriend’s love language was touch and even if he was silent and broody now, you knew that having you here, legs tangled with his, fingers running up and down his tanned skin, was good for his mood. The warmth radiating off of his body felt charged though, almost volatile and you knew Lando was busy battling his own demons, replaying the day’s events over and over in his head, trying to figure out where he went wrong and how he could blame himself even further. 

You also knew you had to tell him about what happened earlier. If he found out from anyone other than you, it would be a disaster. The unspoken tension in the room was becoming unbearable but you knew you needed to tell him, no matter how bad his reaction was. 

Finally, you decide to break the silence. 

“I need to tell you something and I don’t think you’re going to take it very well.” You murmur, shifting so you’re on your side, propped up by your elbow. 

Lando turns to you then, eyes dark and stormy. This was shit timing and you both knew it but you had to get it out in the open. “What’s wrong? What happened?” 

The thought of another shitty thing happening today nearly sends Lando into a tailspin. The way you were talking had him thinking worst case scenario. With the way this weekend was going, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what it was you had to tell him. 

“Allegra is here.” You say, the words hanging in the air like a fragile confession, the weight of them settling between you two. 

Lando’s body stiffens ever so slightly but you notice it immediately, the sudden surge of tension rolling through his body telling you everything you need to know. He turns his head to meet your gaze and you’re struck by how dark and guarded his eyes are. Your normally goofy, playful boyfriend is nowhere to be seen. Unable to resist, you lift your hand to card your fingers through his still shower-damp curls, a move you know calms him and soothes out the rough edges of his anxiety. 

“What? How do you know?” He asks, his voice so low you almost miss the question.

“When Hannah and I went to Ferrari this afternoon we ran into her in the paddock.” 

“Babe, why didn’t you tell me earlier?” He asks, frustration sneaking its way into his voice. 

Biting your lip, you second guess your decision to keep this from him until now. Knowing how shit qualifying had been though, it only takes a moment before you’re firm in your belief that you did the right thing. “I didn’t want you to be distracted. I know how are when you get inside your head and I didn’t want her to ruin this weekend for you.” 

Which is exactly what was happening. 

Lando turns away from you then, limbs untangling from yours. Your skin is instantly chilled after losing his body heat and you have to restrain yourself from moving to follow him across the bed. Lando may be a pretty physical person but you knew how to read his body language well enough to know exactly what he was feeling. Everything that he was communicating to you with the way his shoulders were set, his jaw tight, eyes unfocused on the dark ceiling above him told you that he needed space. 

“Fuck.” He whispers, scrubbing his hands over his face, the slight stubble starting to make its way back on his face after not shaving this morning. 

“Don’t be mad at me.” You plead, unable to keep the anxiety out of your tone. 

Lando rolls back over towards you, eyes soft with regret. “I’m not mad.” He assures you, reaching out to pull you closer to him. You practically sigh in relief when he slots his thigh between your legs, hitching your top leg over his hip. He drags a finger down your jaw as he pastes a smile on his face, one that you know is for your benefit only. You can still see the pain and regret in his eyes as he holds your gaze and you know he’s thinking about how Allegra nearly ruined everything that he had with you. 

“I’m not mad at you.” He repeats himself, more for your benefit than his own. “I know why you did it and I appreciate it. I’m just so fucking frustrated that she’s here. It’s just another reminder of…everything that I’d rather put solidly in the past.” He pulls you closer, nose nuzzling into the crook of your neck where he mouths at the skin there. “I don’t like thinking about how close I was to losing you.”  

Dragging a single finger up and down the toned line of his bicep, you can’t help the smile that finds its way onto your lips when Lando visible shudders at your touch. “But you didn’t in the end and that’s what matters the most, isn’t it?” You murmur, lips finding his in the dim room. Pressing your hips into his, you try to remind him that you’re real, you’re here and you’re not going anywhere. You couldn’t bare to lose him any more than Lando could bare to lose you. 

“It’s just such a mess. A mess I know you don’t want to be brought into. You’ve worked so hard for the reputation you have and here I come, threatening everything you’ve built because I allowed myself to get talked into a fake relationship with a woman I can’t stand.” 

You pull back to Lando’s forced to look at you fully. The anguish you see on his face sends a sharp shock of pain cutting across your chest so brightly it steals the breath from your lungs. “I want you to listen to me, okay?” You wait, staring pointedly at Lando until he nods his head in agreement. “She can come and try to ruin what I’ve built, what we’ve built together these last few months but she’s not going to succeed. You have proof of what she was to you and that was nothing more than a PR thing. Sure, it might be embarrassing for that shit to get made public but we’ll get through it.” You pause to lean forward, pressing your lips to his. “Together.” You murmur against Lando’s mouth. 

Lando pulls you closer to him, deepening the kiss but its you that runs your tongue along the seam of his mouth, a silent ask for him to open for you, which he does immediately. The warmth that floods your blood has you rolling your hips into his, desperate for more friction. You know Lando is in a mood and you’d do anything to smooth out the rough edges of his troubled mind.

 “Please don’t give her one more thought tonight, okay? We’ll figure this out but right now, I want to make sure you feel better. Can I do that? Can I make you feel good?” You murmur against his heated skin as you drag your mouth away from his lips, down his jaw, towards the thick column of his neck. 

You take the moan that rumbles through Lando’s chest as permission to do exactly what you’ve just asked. Usually it’s him taking charge when you two are together like this but tonight there’s something different crackling in the air. You can tell he needs to be taken care of, the combined stress of a tough day and then Allegra’s appearance in the paddock is weight heavy on his shoulders. With a gentle push of his shoulders, you roll your boyfriend onto his back before dragging a heated line down his neck towards the hollow of his throat. 

Lando tangles his fingers in your hair, gently guiding you further down his body. You work slowly, teasing and nipping your way down his chest, stopping briefly to flick your tongue across one nipple. When he gasps at the way your teeth graze the sensitive skin there, you can’t help the grin that finds its way onto your face. 

“Fuck, baby.” Lando breathes as you continue to move your mouth further down his body. The way you feel against his heated skin has the tension melting out of his muscles so quickly he barely has time to wrap his mind around how quickly the energy shifted between you. The way you always wanted to make sure he was taken care of, that he was okay, was something he’d never experienced before and he was certain that he’d do anything to make sure you never doubted his feelings for you ever again. 

You reached the waistband of his boxers, the soft fabric a stark contrast to the heat radiating from his skin. With a slow, deliberate movement, you pushed them down, revealing how hard Lando already was for you. His breath hitched, a low groan escaping his lips as he lifted his hips slightly, a silent plea for you take him in the way he desperately needed you to. 

Your hands graze the thick corded muscles of his thighs as you finally take him in your mouth, the taste of him, salty and musky and familiar to you now, filling your senses. You moved slowly at first, teasing the sensitive tip with your tongue, eliciting a series of soft moans from deep within his chest. You ran your tongue up along the underside of his length, tracing the vein that runs up the underside of his cock. 

“God, that mouth.” Lando moans as he gathers your hair together in a makeshift ponytail to give him something tug on. He knows how much you like that, when he guides you to the places that give him the most pleasure with a rough tug of your hair. It has you squeezing your thighs together, which you barely ignore, wanting to remain solely focused on Lando and his pleasure tonight. 

You begin to move with more urgency, your hand gripping at his thigh, eyes flicking up to look at him through wet lashes. Lando’s moans grow louder, his free hand reaching down to twine his fingers with your hand, giving it a squeeze to let you know how much he’s enjoying this. He’s lost in the sensation of being surrounded by your wet, warm mouth, the tension that had gripped him all day finally melting away. The way you took all of him without hesitation, whimpering when his hips force his dick deeper towards the back of your throat grounds him, reminding him that he’s got someone to share the good and the bad now, that he’s not alone and you’re in this thing together. 

The way he reacts to the way you take him has heat pulsing between your legs. Unable to keep your fingers to yourself anymore, you let go of Lando’s hand before trailing your fingers down between your legs. It’s not enough to really distract you, but the pressure from your fingers against your clit is enough to dull the aching need that you know you’re going to need to deal with later. 

Lando bucks his hips against your mouth, his moans turning to ragged gasps as you take him even deeper. The way you swallow against him has a desperate whine spilling from his lips in a way that sends zaps of electricity straight to where your fingers are currently working over your wet pussy. He was so close, you could feel it in the way his thighs were tensing beneath the hand that gripped at his taut flesh. 

“Gonna swallow all my cum baby? I’m so fucking close. I want you to swallow every drop of me, can you do that for me?” 

You’re too preoccupied to give him a proper answer, not wanting to let go of the heavy length of him that sits so solidly in your mouth so you just nod, hoping that its enough for him. It’s so grounding, so erotic the way you feel him twitching away in your mouth that you’re pretty sure you could spent the rest of the night with him in your mouth like this. 

And then he’s there, right on the edge of release and you’re flicking your tongue against the sensitive head of his cock and with one last guttural moan, Lando spills into your mouth. The warm, salty cum slides down your throat as you hold him steady, allowing him to fuck up into your mouth as he crests over the waves of pleasure that you brought him to. 

Lando’s eyes, still glazed over with pleasure, find yours as he reaches out to trace the curve of your cheek, his touch gentle, almost reverent. “Holy fuck, baby. Thank you” He croaks out, voice raspy as the exhaustion of the day settles over him. He’s soft and pliant like this and you continue to hold him in your mouth, waiting until he’s fully come down to release him with a soft pop. 

He pulls you up his body, his lips finally finding yours in a slow, tender kiss that says more than he could ever find the words. His mouth works yours over, the taste of his own release still on your lips. “You’re too good to me.” He murmurs against your lips as he tucks you against his side. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll repay the favor, okay?” 

You hum, eyes drifting shut as the warmth of Lando’s body sinks deeper into your muscles. “It’s okay, this is enough for me right now. Go to sleep for a bit and we can take a shower later tonight, okay?” 

“What did I do to deserve you?” Lando wonders before his eyes flutter shut and he allows a deliciously satisfying sleep to pull him under. 

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[n1ght0f-nyx]

hello! I was wondering if you’d be willing to write a Phantom of the Opera request centering around reader’s appreciation for Erik’s hands. I mean… he is a musician and can play pretty much any instrument. Not to mention, he can be so delicate in the way he touches reader while also having strangled men (which reader isnt crazy about but… one step at a time…)

How would he react to them showing him such appreciation? And would it lead to anything more…? if you do decide to do nsfw… how would he feel about reader asking him to (lightly) choke them?

feel free to make this sfw or nsfw as you're comfortable with!

Where Trust Lies

i didnt make it nsfw but it is still suggestive!! erik destler x gn reader warnings/ tags- light choking, not nswf, gn reader, i demand requests!!! word count- 1649 words

Erik’s hands were the first part of him you truly knew.

The gentle curve of his long fingers on the keys of his organ, the quiet strength they showed as he adjusted his scores, the rhythmic flex of his knuckles when frustration gnawed at him—all of it fascinated you. His hands were, in many ways, the truest representation of him: deft, expressive, and disciplined, yet trembling with the undercurrent of a deeper, more turbulent self.

You often found yourself watching them from across the dim room as Erik lost himself in music. Tonight, however, was different. Tonight, you let your admiration slip through the walls you carefully built to keep your thoughts concealed from his sharp, all-seeing eyes.

The candlelight barely reached where you sat on the edge of the divan, but it illuminated Erik clearly at his organ. His hands, ever graceful, moved like water over the keys, coaxing out a melody that was equal parts melancholy and tender. You didn’t know the piece, but you felt it—the notes wrapped around you, luring you into his world.

Your gaze lingered on the pale stretch of his fingers. They danced with precision, pressing and lifting as though the keys were extensions of himself. You’d often admired his hands in silence, but tonight, the sight pulled at something deeper within you. Those hands had given life to the beauty in the room: the music, the carefully inked compositions scattered on his desk, the delicate carvings on the furniture he’d restored.

They were hands of creation. Hands that bore the evidence of their toil, calloused but precise, and you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to feel them against your own skin.

You barely realized you were staring until Erik stilled. The final chord hung in the air before vanishing into the heavy quiet of the underground lair. Slowly, he turned toward you, his movements deliberate, and you realized with a flash of embarrassment that he’d caught you watching.

His dark eyes narrowed, suspicion clouding them. “What is it?” he asked, his voice low and clipped. “Are you displeased with the music?”

You shook your head quickly. “No. The music is beautiful, Erik.”

He tilted his head, his disfigured lips pressing into a thin line. “Then why do you look at me as though you pity me?”

Your breath caught. “I don’t pity you,” you said softly, leaning forward. “I was admiring your hands.”

For a moment, Erik froze. His eyes flicked to his own hands as though seeing them for the first time. He flexed his fingers once, and a soft scoff escaped his throat. “My hands,” he repeated, almost mockingly. “They are as grotesque as the rest of me. What is there to admire?”

You moved before you could think better of it, slipping off the divan to kneel before him. His sharp intake of breath made you pause, but you pressed forward, gently lifting one of his hands between yours. “They’re not grotesque,” you murmured, running your fingertips over the calloused pads of his fingers. “They’re beautiful.”

Erik’s breath hitched, and you glanced up to see him staring at you, his face unreadable. You pressed on, letting your thumb brush over his knuckles. “Your hands create so much, Erik. Music that moves people, pieces that live beyond this place. Even this lair—it’s you. Everything you’ve built is because of these hands.”

His fingers twitched under your touch, and for a moment, you thought he might pull away. But he didn’t. Instead, he watched you, something like vulnerability flickering in his gaze.

“You… you think so highly of them?” he whispered, as though the words were foreign to him.

“I do,” you said, your voice steady. “I’ve always thought so. I’ve just never told you.”

He swallowed hard, his free hand gripping the edge of the organ bench. His breathing grew uneven, and you realized how much weight your words carried. Erik, who was so accustomed to rejection and fear, was staring at you as though you’d spoken something sacred.

Carefully, you placed his hand against your cheek, closing your eyes for a moment. His touch was hesitant, but warm, his thumb brushing your skin in the lightest of caresses.

“Why?” he rasped, his voice breaking. “Why would you say this?”

You opened your eyes, meeting his. “Because it’s true. And because I want you to know how much I see in you.”

Something inside him seemed to shatter at that. His hand cupped your cheek more firmly, and before you knew it, he was pulling you closer, his other hand lifting to cradle the back of your neck.

“Do you know what you do to me?” he murmured, his voice trembling. “To speak of beauty in something I’ve always loathed… You undo me.”

You barely managed to reply before he leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. His breath ghosted over your lips, his hands anchoring you to him as though you might vanish. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Erik’s forehead rested against yours, his breath shallow and uneven. His hands trembled slightly where they held you, one against your cheek and the other cradling the nape of your neck. His eyes searched yours, filled with an unspoken question, as if he were waiting for you to push him away.

But you didn’t. Instead, you reached up to trace the back of his hand, marveling at the strength beneath his pale skin. “Erik,” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the stillness.

“Yes?” His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard, his thumb brushing your jaw in an almost reverent motion.

“I want you to choke me.”

The words hung between you, heavy and electric. Erik froze, his breath catching as if you had struck him. His hand stilled against your neck, the tension in his fingers palpable.

“What… did you say?” His voice was low, laced with disbelief and something darker—a flicker of curiosity.

You shifted closer, your hands resting lightly on his chest, feeling the erratic beat of his heart beneath your palms. “I want you to choke me,” you repeated, softer but no less certain. “I trust you, Erik. Completely. I want to feel your strength—your control. I’m not afraid of you.”

Erik’s expression twisted, his lips parting as though to protest, but no words came. Instead, he stared at you, his brows furrowed, his hands twitching as though he were waging a silent war with himself.

“You… you don’t understand what you’re asking,” he finally said, his voice strained. “I could hurt you. I’ve spent my life as a monster, wielding my hands for harm, not… not this.”

“You’re not a monster,” you said firmly, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “And I trust you not to hurt me. I’m asking because I want this—not because I see you as dangerous, but because I see you as powerful.”

His breathing grew heavier, and he closed his eyes, his grip on your neck tightening just enough for you to feel the weight of his hand. When he opened his eyes again, they were filled with something raw and unguarded. “If I do this,” he said slowly, his voice shaking, “you must promise to tell me if it’s too much. I cannot bear to harm you.”

“I promise,” you said, your voice steady.

Erik let out a shuddering breath, and his fingers flexed against your skin. Slowly, he brought his other hand up to join the first, his long fingers curling gently around your throat. The pressure was light at first, almost hesitant, as though he feared breaking you.

“Like this?” he murmured, his eyes locked on yours.

You nodded, your breath hitching at the sensation. “A little more,” you whispered.

His fingers tightened incrementally, and you felt the strength in his hands, the undeniable control he held over you. The sensation was intoxicating, not because it left you breathless but because it was Erik—vulnerable, conflicted, and utterly present with you in this moment.

“You’re trembling,” you said softly, your hands moving to rest over his.

“I—” He cut himself off, his voice breaking. “I’m terrified. I don’t understand how you could want this from me.”

“Because I trust you,” you said again, your voice steady despite the weight of his hands. “Because I want you to see that you don’t have to hold yourself back with me.”

Something inside him snapped then, a low growl escaping his lips as his grip tightened just enough to make your pulse quicken. He leaned closer, his face mere inches from yours, his breath hot against your cheek.

“You undo me,” he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. “Do you know what you’re doing to me?”

Before you could answer, his lips were on yours—fierce, desperate, and unyielding. His hands remained steady on your throat, a perfect balance of control and care, grounding you in his presence. The kiss deepened, his body pressing against yours as though he couldn’t bear to leave any space between you.

When he finally pulled back, his chest heaved, his hands slipping from your throat to cradle your face. His eyes were wild, dark with desire and something deeper—a fragile kind of devotion.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

You shook your head, your lips curling into a soft smile. “No, Erik. You were perfect.”

He let out a shaky breath, his forehead falling against yours once more. “You are either the most reckless creature I’ve ever met,” he murmured, “or the only one who’s ever truly understood me.”

“Maybe I’m both,” you said, your voice light but full of affection.

Erik let out a soft, breathless laugh—rare and beautiful, like the man himself. And as his hands slid back to rest lightly on your shoulders, you knew that this moment, fragile and fierce, was just the beginning of something neither of you could put into words.

[willows-escape]

My Angel - 1990!Erik x Reader

Pairing: 1990!Cherik x AFAB!Reader (gender neutral pronouns/language)

Summary: You woke up that morning expecting a peaceful, regular day, but you were quickly proven horribly wrong as things began to travel down south. Fortunately, Erik is there to try and relieve some of the pain - even if it is excruciating.

Warnings(/Tags?): menstruation, descriptions of extremely painful periods (adenomyosis/endometriosis), erik is dramatic but its okay he has an excuse, nausea, mentions of vomit but no actual vomiting, early 1900s appropriate period shame, blood and heavy bleeding, brief mention of reader not eating all day but it's only due to lack of appetite, reassurance, fluff!!!!, like TOOTH ROTTING sweetness!!!!

Words: 6.9k

Notes: this isn't what i originally planned to post today, but i have adenomyosis and when my periods come they come bad and the pain is making me feel very sorry for myself. and i did promise something soon. so this is just self indulgent fluff in the mean time.

the other thing i was writing will be entirely gender neutral, so people who do not at all identify with menstruation or just don't want to read about it will hopefully enjoy that when it's done!

DISCLAIMER - this is based off of my experiences with periods, which will not look like most because I have a gynaecologic condition. but if you do 100% relate to this, go see a doctor! like, yesterday!

The morning began like any other, with a restless night's sleep behind you. As you stirred awake, you found yourself alone in bed, but a smile crept across your face as you noticed the lingering warmth on the sheets beside you - a subtle reminder of a certain someone’s recent presence.

Succumbing to the lethargy that clung to your limbs, you reached for the nearest available outfit. The garments were wrinkled and well-worn, but they served their purpose of preserving your modesty. You slipped them on, grateful for the barrier they provided against the cool morning air, despite their less-than-pristine condition.

As you emerged from your bedroom, you stumbled, the door slamming shut behind you with an echoing thud. Your body felt leaden, each limb weighed down as if filled with concrete. Shafts of light piercing through the stone crevices assaulted your eyes, intensifying the dull throb that had begun to pulse at your temples.

"Erik?" your voice cracked, barely above a whisper. The name came out as a hoarse, groggy mumble, hardly recognizable even to your own ears.

Despite your feeble attempt at calling out, Erik appeared before you almost instantly, as if summoned by your whisper.

"Y/N! You're up," he said joyfully, his body adorned in one of his special going out outfits, "much earlier than usual, may I add. I was in the middle of preparing us a picnic before you have to go back up but-"

His gaze finally narrowed onto your hunched form, his previous relaxed expression shifting to one of concern. Your dishevelled appearance was evident - your hair in disarray, your eyes glazed over, bloodshot, and unfocused. It was clear that you were far from your usual self, and to put it lightly, appeared extremely unwell.

"What is the matter?" he asked. You hadn’t noticed it before, but the picnic basket he had been holding clattered to the stone floor, forgotten in an instant as his full attention focused on you.

As though his question was the trigger, a wave of nausea crashed over you. Your chest constricted, forcing you to hunch over even further. Your skin flushed hot in an instant, beads of sweat forming and quickly multiplying across your skin.

"Angel, what's wrong?" Erik's voice trembled, his words tumbling out in a rush. Had you been more lucid, you might have felt a pang of guilt for causing him such distress.

"I'm fine," you mumbled unconvincingly. His hand gently rested on your shoulder, and instantly your body betrayed you. The comforting touch seemed to signal to your system that it was safe to let go, and suddenly, you felt overwhelmed by a surge of nausea and dizziness.

A dull ache blossomed in your lower abdomen. Your breath caught in your throat as you instinctively pressed a hand against your stomach. The discomfort flooded your senses as your face contorted, a grimace etching itself across your features as you struggled to maintain composure.

Within moments, the discomfort escalated from a mild annoyance to an all-consuming agony that left you immobilized.

Shivers began to wrack your body. Your legs turned to lead, a numbing sensation creeping up from your toes. Simultaneously, a searing, deep-seated ache took root in your lower back.

If Erik was worried before, he was panicking now. His eyes widened with alarm, his breathing quickened, and his usually steady hands began to tremble visibly. The calm composure he typically maintained crumbled in an instant, replaced by an overwhelming sense of dread and urgency.

Your legs buckled beneath you, your vision blurring as you felt yourself wilting towards the unforgiving stone floor. Erik sprang into action, his arms shooting out to catch you. The world spun as he scooped you up, your body limp in his grasp. A sharp cry escaped your lips as the sudden movement sent a jolt of agony through your core, the comfort of his embrace overshadowed by the searing pain that threatened to consume you.

With swift strides, Erik navigated the winding halls, cradling you protectively in his arms. He retraced your earlier path, arriving at the door you had just exited moments ago. With a forceful kick, he flung it open, revealing the familiar sight of your shared bedroom.

"I'm going to set you down onto the bed," he explained slowly, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. "I’ll be as careful as I can."

When he gently pulled back the blanket on your side of the bed, you felt a slight jostling. Your attention, however, was abruptly drawn by a sharp intake of breath, his gasp cutting through the silence of the room.

"Erik?" you mumbled weakly. Your words were abruptly cut off as another wave of pain tore through your abdomen, causing you to cry out involuntarily.

Once more, you felt yourself being moved, this time to Erik's side of the bed. Confusion clouded your mind - why the change? But as you weakly lifted your head, the reason became starkly clear.

"Oh god-" you gasped, your eyes widening in shock at the sight before you. The vivid crimson stain on your side of the bed was impossible to ignore, its stark contrast against the pale sheets making your stomach churn with a mix of embarrassment and dread.

“I need to go find Gerard, you need to be seen by a doctor,” he declared, voice urgent and desperate.

He finally lowered you onto the clean side of the bed, and your eyes instinctively sought his face. It was then you realised his mask was off, likely because he hadn't anticipated you waking so soon. Without the barrier, you could clearly see the stark pallor of his unmarked skin and the unmistakable fear etched across his features. His typically composed demeanour had given way to raw, unfiltered concern that was both touching and unsettling.

He turned to leave.

"Erik, wait," you gasped, your hand shooting out to grasp his arm. "The pain is... excruciating, I won't lie. But I don't think—"

Your words were cut short as another wave of agony crashed over you. A strangled whimper escaped your lips as you curled into yourself, your body trembling uncontrollably. The pain was all-consuming, leaving you breathless and disoriented. You clenched your eyes shut, willing the torment to pass, knowing all you could do was endure until it subsided.

"Where's the pain? Can you pinpoint where you're bleeding from?" his eyes darted across your form, taking in your dulled complexion and the sheen of sweat on your skin. "You're burning up. Do you have a fever?"

His questions came in rapid succession, but his touch remained gentle as he brushed your damp hair away from your forehead.

"I... um..." you hesitated, struggling to articulate through the pain. The situation presented a dilemma: discussing such a private matter with a man felt improper, yet the severity of your discomfort and the alarming amount of blood made it impossible to simply dismiss. You found yourself caught.

Another intense surge of pain rose in your stomach, but this one more overwhelming than the last. Your ability to speak fully vanished as your eyes clenched shut. Soft whimpers escalated into frantic, muffled cries as the relentless throbbing in your lower abdomen intensified, twisting your nerves and leaving you gasping for breath.

"Angel, please, tell me what’s going on," Erik pleaded, tenderly taking your hand in his. The desperation in his eyes was palpable as he watched you struggle to form words. “I really believe you need a doctor, please just let me-”

"No, please," you winced, your voice barely audible through gritted teeth. The words came out strained, a mixture of pain and embarrassment colouring your tone. "It's... it's not something I can easily explain," you paused, taking a shaky breath before adding, "it's rather private."

"Private?" he echoed, his voice a mixture of disbelief and concern. "Forgive my being impolite, but you are currently writhing in agony and bleeding profusely- how on Earth is that private!?"

"Erik," you implored, your eyes silently conveying your discomfort with the subject. However, his concern for your well-being trumped any social niceties. Undeterred by your unspoken plea, he persisted with his questions, determined to understand and help.

"If you explain what's happening, I might be able to help," he insisted. You gave him a sceptical look, but he pressed on, "my years in isolation weren't idle, I've acquired a vast array of knowledge from the countless books that have kept me company."

"It's just not appropriate for me to discuss this with you!" you cried in refute, your voice strained with both pain and embarrassment. Despite your best efforts to remain composed, your tone came out sharper than intended.

You silently prayed he would forgive you, considering the fact that you were enduring mind-boggling amounts of pain. Not only that, the fact you could distinctly feel the familiar warm leakage of blood trickling down your thighs and onto the bedsheets below was driving you utterly insane.

Shame coursed through you as your eyes fell upon the stark evidence of your debilitating pain staining the otherwise white sheets. Averting your gaze, you felt utterly exposed and vulnerable. An overwhelming desire to shield yourself from Erik's concerned stare gripped you, making you wish you could simply disappear.

However, your discomfort eased as Erik's touch changed. His firm grip on your hand softened, his fingers now tracing gentle patterns on your skin. Despite the worry in his eyes, you sensed his effort to stay calm for your sake.

Your heart tugged in your chest at the realisation.

"Y/N," he began, his voice tender yet hesitant as he tried to hold himself together. His gaze locked onto yours as he struggled to maintain his composure. "Please, put your shame aside for one moment and let me in- if only so that I can help you. It kills me to see you like this."

His ignorance of the situation was evident in the way his chest heaved and how he chewed the inside of his cheek with a vengeance. It was clear he believed you were in grave danger. You knew you needed to say something to ease his mind, even if it went against everything your instincts were telling you to do.

"Oh," you breathed, wincing as another wave of pain crashed over you. "It's... it's a delicate matter. Not something typically discussed in polite company."

"Do I look like polite company to you?" Erik's sarcastic retort was accompanied by a growing urgency in his previously calm ministrations. His eyes started to dart frantically between the blood staining your skin and your tired, visibly distressed face.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for Erik's potential upset. Despite your fears of his disgust or anger, of him calling you dirty or telling you to leave until you return to normal, a small part of you hoped he might be more understanding than expected. It was this glimmer of optimism that gave you the courage to finally speak.

"Erik," you began hesitantly, "are you familiar with the concept of... menstruation?"

The prolonged silence following your question spoke volumes. When Erik finally shook his head, it only confirmed what you had already suspected.

"Well," you began hesitantly, searching for the right words, "it's a process that occurs in people with uteruses. It involves bleeding and a lot of pain, typically happening monthly for one week out of the month. I don't really know much about the biological reasons behind it, but-"

Your explanation was abruptly halted as another shock of excruciating pain engulfed you. Erik, sensing your distress, quickly offered his hand. You latched onto it, your grip surprisingly fierce. As the agony intensified, your body convulsed against the sheets, and muffled sobs escaped your lips. You desperately willed the torment to stop, but it seemed endless despite your determination to endure.

"Fuck!"

Erik looked taken aback by your cussing, but seeing as you were squeezing his hand so hard he felt like your aim was to tear it off, he didn't focus on it too much.

Eventually, the pain faded back to its baseline ache - which was still extremely unpleasant, but manageable.

"I apologize," you coughed through your tears, your voice strained as you brushed away the beads of sweat trickling down your forehead.

"There's no need to apologize," he reassured, his voice filled with compassion. "I'm deeply concerned for your wellbeing, but I trust your understanding of this situation. If you say it's not life-threatening, I will trust you."

“Yeah, I'm definitely in no life threatening danger," you assured him, "but the pain is so intense, it almost feels like I am."

"It hurts so badly," you whimpered, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over. "Ever since I was young, I've had to live with such excruciating pain and such heavy bleeding that I can barely function or even leave my bed. It's so exhausting and I've lost count of the times I've passed out on dirty floors, lying in my own vomit because of this."

"I know, I know," he murmured, not truly understanding and internally slightly horrified but wanting to comfort you regardless. He gently wiped away your tears as they fell, his touch tender and reassuring.

"I'm so sorry," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "This is terribly embarrassing. You shouldn't have to witness this. You tried to regain composure, but the combination of physical discomfort and emotional vulnerability made it impossible to stem the tide of tears.

Suddenly, Erik began to move. Your attention was so focused on the hurricane of emotions swirling around your body that you barely noticed him shifting to your side of the bed. It wasn't until he began to lower himself onto the mattress beside you that panic set in, causing you to react instinctively.

"No, wait!" you exclaimed, your sudden outburst causing him to recoil in surprise. Realizing your tone, you softened your voice. "I'm sorry, but please don't sit there. I... I don't want you to get dirty."

"Dirty?" Erik repeated, his eyes flickering to the stain beneath him. A soft chuckle escaped his lips. "It's just blood, I mean really- it's not like I haven't been covered in my own fair share of the stuff. This small spot is hardly cause for concern."

"Erik, please, it's not just blood!" you insisted, the shame taking over as you looked at the spot where you'd bled. It didn’t help that you were in too much pain and felt far too weak to even do anything about it!

He raised an eyebrow at you. "How can it be 'not just blood'? Does your blood contain arsenic?"

You couldn’t help but groan at his sarcastic retort.

"Menstrual blood comes from a person's private areas," you grumbled, your cheeks burning with embarrassment as you tried to convey the gravity of the situation.

He paused for a moment, then replied, "well, that certainly wasn't the answer I expected, but it doesn't change my opinion. Blood is blood, no matter where it comes from. Besides, fabric—and people—can always be washed. You don't need to be moving around for the sake of preserving meaningless things, you need to rest."

"But!-"

"Now that that's settled..." he shrugged off the jacket he’d been wearing and eased himself onto the mattress, inching closer to your awestruck form.

You were utterly speechless. He just- and then he- and he said-

"May I hold you? I won't if it causes you pain," he asked, his voice earnest and gentle. His tender concern only added to your bewildered state.

Words failed you as Erik gently pulled you into his embrace. The warmth of his body enveloped you, offering a comfort you didn't realize you so desperately craved. Despite the momentary twinge in your abdomen as he carefully adjusted your position, you found yourself melting into his arms. In that moment, his presence was a bandage to your pain-wracked body and troubled mind.

"Is this position comfortable?" He inquired. His arm gently supported the back of your neck, while his other hand rested lightly on your upper arm, providing a comforting presence without applying pressure. You managed a small nod in response, grateful for his attentiveness.

"Good. Now, where does it hurt?"

As his hand began to drift lower, more particularly towards your thighs, you suddenly realized the direction his thoughts were taking. Your eyes widened in a mix of surprise and mild alarm.

"Wait, not there!" you exclaimed, immediately regretting your sudden outburst as a fresh wave of pain surged through you. You winced, silently chastising yourself for your impulsive reaction.

"Oh. My deepest apologies," Erik said, his voice tinged with embarrassment as he blinked sheepishly. "I wouldn't have touched you anywhere without permission, but when you mentioned the blood's origin, I assumed—well, I thought—"

"Yeah, I know what you thought," you laughed breathlessly, wincing as another flash of pain assaulted your insides. "But contrary to your guess, the pain is mainly in my lower abdomen. Still, I appreciate your... eagerness to help."

His hand, which had been hovering uncertainly, now settled gently on your stomach. The warmth of his palm seeped through your skin as he watched your face intently, searching for any sign of discomfort. Finding none, he took your relaxed expression as silent permission and began to move his hand in slow, soothing circles.

Your mind went blank.

The warmth of his hand on your stomach felt heavenly. The sensation was unlike anything you'd experienced before. While it didn't eliminate the pain by any means, it soothed the intensity more than you thought anything ever could. As his fingers traced slow, deliberate circles on your skin, you felt your entire body relaxing, tension melting away with each careful movement.

Your tears, once born of shame and torment, now flowed from sheer relief.

"Thank you," you sniffled, peace washing over you whilst your body finally began to relax. As your muscles slowly unclenched, the bed beneath you seemed to transform, becoming a soft, inviting cloud that cradled your aching form.

Erik could sense your growing ease just from the shift in your demeanour. He was well aware that the mattress and bed sheets were likely ruined, but your comfort and rest took precedence over any stains—especially ones that no one else would ever lay eyes on. And it wasn’t like he couldn’t always procure new clothes for you if your current ones were beyond saving.

"Rest now, angel," he murmured softly, his hand continuing its soothing motions. "I'll be here when you wake up."

As you drifted off into a peaceful slumber, Erik decided it was probably time to delve into those medical journals he'd long avoided.

What? He just preferred reading fiction, that's all.

As evening fell, you stirred from your sleep, immediately noticing the emptiness beside you. Your hand brushed against the cool sheets where Erik had been, confirming your suspicion—he had left your side some time ago. Disappointment creased your brow as you pondered his whereabouts.

You laid motionless on the mattress, your gaze fixed on the spot where Erik had been before you drifted off. The pain in your lower abdomen persisted, but it had noticeably diminished compared to earlier. Your skin felt clammy, and your throat parched, yet overall, you felt surprisingly okay.

"You're awake," a familiar voice called from the corner of the room.

Your frown melted away as you realized he hadn't left at all. True to his word, Erik had simply shifted to the corner of the room, maintaining his vigilant watch over you.

"It's 7:30 PM, which is quite an unusual time to start your day, don't you think?" he teased. You sat up, observing him sitting comfortably in the chair you two kept in the room for convenience's sake.

This time, he wore his mask, unlike earlier when you had awoken. Your gaze drifted downward, landing on the enormous tome in his hands—the bulkiest book you'd ever laid eyes on. Curiosity piqued, you gestured silently toward the literary behemoth he cradled, wordlessly urging him to elaborate on the book in his grasp.

"I know—this is definitely a hefty one. Thank god for chapter indexes," he remarked, weighing the book in his hands. "However, I must say, its contents are appallingly lacking in knowledge."

"How so?" you prompted.

"Well, this is supposed to be a medical journal, and yet, when I look for information on menstruation, it's woefully inadequate," he scoffed. "It merely states that menstruation is linked to the reproductive cycle and helps the uterus prepare for potential pregnancy. That's all."

"Well, that's still more than I knew before," you said with a shrug.

"It's obscene. I read in another book that it happens to half the population from around ages 16 to 50, and yet so many people have gone their whole lives not knowing why?" He shook his head in bewilderment. "And I thought science had come much further than that."

“You read another book? How many of these have you read?” you asked, astonished by his dedication.

“Oh, just whatever I had lying around. A couple dozen or so,” he replied, as if everyone just had dozens of books on medical knowledge floating around their abode. “But some of them were so old they attributed menstruation to miasma, so I didn’t pay much attention to those. And I also busied myself with books on herbal remedies and pain relief- apparently there’s this new medicine called Aspirin on the market? Exciting, but I can’t get a hold of that right now, unfortunately.”

As he rose from the chair, you noticed the stacks of books surrounding his feet. He hadn't exaggerated when he mentioned "a dozen or so" - they were all massive, thicker than any you'd ever seen! You racked your brain, trying to recall where in the cellars he might have been concealing these enormous volumes, but you couldn't remember ever spotting them before.

"I may be mistaken, but you seem to be feeling better than you did this morning," he observed, neatly arranging the books into orderly stacks rather than leaving them scattered haphazardly.

"Definitely," you nodded. "The pain is still present, but it's significantly less intense now."

"That's good," he replied, humming as he pushed his first pile to the side to work on the next. "You did give me quite a fright earlier. I thought... Well, I'm not sure what I thought."

"It's understandable. I mean, I'm not sure why, but I expected you to have some... slight awareness of the subject," you admitted, awkwardly averting your gaze.

Even though you knew Erik wasn't raised with the same rules and expectations as you, discussing menstruation still felt like breaching a taboo. The topic remained uncomfortable, despite your rational understanding that it shouldn't be.

"I do feel quite foolish for not being aware of it sooner. But then again, how many women do you think I've encountered in my life? Besides my mother, the answer is none. And even that meeting was brief," he said matter-of-factly.

You didn't really know how to respond to that, so you let a comfortable silence settle between you. Erik swiftly finished organizing his books, then hurried out to return them to their proper places. He reappeared within moments.

"Now, unless there are other aspects of your anatomy I should be aware of," he said with a hint of amusement, "I believe a bath is in order." His eyes darted meaningfully towards the bed, drawing your attention to the mess you had somehow overlooked. You were mortified as you realized the extent of the stains, which had spread far beyond where you'd expected, creating abstract patterns on the once-pristine sheets.

"Ugh, yes," you grimaced, suddenly noticing the uncomfortable layer of blood on your skin. "A bath is definitely overdue. But what about you? Have you had a chance to clean up?"

"You've been out for eleven hours. I bathed ages ago," he stated. "Just give me half an hour or so to boil some water for the bath. That way, you won't be freezing in there."

While you appreciated Erik's thoughtfulness, the sensation of dried, itchy filth on your skin was unbearable. The prospect of waiting even a moment longer to cleanse yourself seemed more daunting than enduring the bite of cold water.

"Don’t bother," you cringed, "I can't bear this feeling any longer. I need to wash off immediately, even if the water's cold. The discomfort of icy water is preferable to this... filth."

“Have some patience. It’s the late evening in a cellar right next to a lake, you’ll die from cold exposure,” he deadpanned.

Though you understood the logic behind his words, you couldn't suppress a playful pout. Erik's eyes rolled with amusement as he approached you on the bed. Leaning over, he tenderly pressed his lips to your forehead, the gentle gesture melting away your feigned disappointment.

"Are you sure you're not in too much pain right now? Tomorrow I'll ask Gerard to procure some herbs, but until then I have a few remedies I can try with items lying around," he asked, straightening up to look down at you with a raised eyebrow.

"It's bearable," you affirmed.

"Good," he said, moving towards the door. "Stay here while I set up the bath. If you need anything, just call for me."

“Trust me, I won’t be going far anytime soon.”

Thirty minutes later, Erik returned as promised. During the wait, you occupied yourself with daydreams and silent lamentations about your bodily predicament. You couldn’t help but be stuck on the thought that you’d be stuck like this until you were 50—you weren't even halfway through!

"Can you walk alright?" he asked, concerned about you putting any unnecessary strain on your body.

After considering your current condition, you replied, "I think I could manage, but would you mind carrying me to the bathroom anyway? I've heard blood leaves quite stubborn stains on stone."

Wordlessly, he obliged, gently cradling you in his arms. One arm supported your back while the other nestled beneath your knees. As he carefully lifted you, his eyes fell upon the crimson stain left behind. The sight of such copious bleeding caused a flicker of concern to cross his face, though he tried to conceal it.

You were supposed to bleed that much every month for a week straight without dying?

Pushing aside his alarming thoughts about your potential demise, he carried you carefully to the bathroom, his movements slow and deliberate. As he cradled you, you realized this level of attentiveness was something you could easily grow accustomed to. You made a mental note that future menstrual cycles would be spent here in the cellars, rather than hiding from him in the Opera Populaire as you'd done before.

"Thank you for today," you whispered, your voice filled with gratitude. As you spoke, you instinctively burrowed closer, finding comfort in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear.

He let out a low chuckle, tinged with self-deprecation. "Thank you? I've barely done anything noteworthy," he scoffed, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. You couldn't see his expression, but you sensed the frown in his words. "To be honest, I feel rather inadequate. I wish I could have been more helpful to you in this situation."

"Don't say that," you insisted, nudging his chest with your head in retaliation. "You've gone above and beyond what most people would do. You've read dozens of books today just to understand me better. You've prepared a bath for me and prioritized my rest over your bedding. Most men would have either shooed me away or fled in your position."

A door creaked open, plunging you into momentary darkness as Erik gently lowered you to your feet. Your voice softened with emotion as you whispered, "your kindness and attentiveness mean more to me than words can express."

The gas valve hissed softly as it turned, gradually illuminating the bathroom. As your eyes adjusted to the light, you noticed a plush black towel draped over the edge of the tub, ready for use. On a nearby rack hung a set of fresh clothes—their style unmistakably reminiscent of Erik's wardrobe—waiting patiently for you to don them after your bath.

He cleared his throat loudly, a gesture you'd come to recognise as his way of masking his flustered state. "It's nothing extraordinary," he mumbled, his voice tinged with a mix of modesty and discomfort at the praise, "just basic human decency."

“But-“

"Is there anything else you need before I go to clean up?" he abruptly asked.

You sighed, giving him a pointed look for interrupting you. Deciding to let it go, you allowed the shift in conversation.

"I can manage from here, thank you," you hummed. "But would you mind fetching my sanitary belt from my bag? I'll need it after the bath."

“Sanitary belt?”

"Yeah. It's a belt that wraps around your waist and holds a sanitary towel in place to collect the, um, blood," you explained, awkwardly gesturing with your hands to illustrate. "You'll recognize it when you see it."

With a tender kiss on your forehead, Erik departed, promising to return with what you need.

The moment he left, you wasted no time shedding your clothes and depositing them in the nearby basket. Eager for relief, you eased yourself into the bathtub, a contented sigh escaping your lips as the pleasantly warm water enveloped you. The soothing heat melted away any lingering discomfort, allowing you to immerse yourself fully in the task of cleansing. With meticulous care, you began to wash away the day's troubles, savouring the unexpected comfort the bath provided.

He returned shortly after, placing the belt on the rack alongside your other necessities. Once again, he inquired about your well-being, prompting you to playfully scold him for his constant concern. Nevertheless, you reassured him that you were fine, adding that the warm bath water provided more pain relief than you had anticipated.

He seemed on the verge of making a sarcastic comment—likely along the lines of "I told you so"—but thought better of it. Bidding you a final goodbye, he left to strip and prepare the bed, allowing you to finish cleaning up in peace.

You continued this until the water was doing you more of a disservice than it was cleansing you. Pulling the drain cover open, you allowed the dirty water to flow out and empty the tub. Silently, you thanked Erik for installing this modern convenience in his home—one of the few upgrades he'd chosen, despite his ability to afford many more.

A chill crept over your damp skin, urging you to hasten your routine. Goosebumps prickled across your body as you quickly patted yourself dry with the towel, appreciating how he'd made sure it was black and not white. You then clumsily secured the sanitary belt around your waist, wincing at its familiar discomfort.

Immediately after, you slipped into the night shirt he had provided. The loose-fitting trousers were a blessing, their gentle embrace and soft material accommodating your tender midsection without adding pressure. Once you finished dressing, a sense of satisfaction gleamed in your chest. You felt refreshed, clean, and rejuvenated.

You made sure to brush your teeth before finishing up in the bathroom, when the horrific cramps returned once again. Doubled over and jaw clenched, you shuffled towards the door with painstaking slowness. Your quivering hand fumbled with the gas valve, finally managing to shut off the light. The room plunged into darkness as you walked out, door falling shut behind.

Groaning softly, you shuffled back towards the bedroom, where you found Erik fluffing the pillows on your freshly made bed. He wore his night attire, and despite your discomfort, you couldn't suppress a smile. Even doubled over in pain, the sight of him warmed your heart.

He swiftly noticed your presence, helping you onto the bed to spare you the effort of weakly propping yourself up. He then approached the dresser, where a mysterious lump lay concealed beneath blankets. Unfolding the coverings, he placed his hand on the hidden object and nodded with satisfaction.

He refolded the blankets over it before walking over to you. Curious and confused, you tried to maintain an inquisitive look while fighting off the storm raging in your abdomen.

"I anticipated the pain would return once you started moving again," he said, gesturing for you to lift your shirt to reveal your belly. You complied, though your confusion deepened. "This is called a 'hot water bottle,’ a recent invention. Gerard suggested I try one to ease some discomfort from my... condition. It doesn't help me much, but it might work for you."

"How does it work?" you asked, flinching slightly as the bottle touched your skin.

"It's made of rubber and filled with hot water to transfer heat efficiently," he explained, helping you pull your shirt back down over the bottle to keep it pressed against your skin. "Since you mentioned the warm water helped, I thought this might be worth trying."

"So it's like a hot water pig, but made of rubber instead of stoneware and more convenient?" you hummed thoughtfully, resting your hands over the bottle for an extra layer of added security.

“Precisely,” he nodded.

As the warmth from the hot water bottle gradually permeated the blankets, you found it soothing but not quite potent enough to fully alleviate your discomfort. The heat offered a welcome respite, yet you yearned for more intense relief from the persistent ache.

"It does take the edge off the pain," you admitted, biting your lip pensively, "but would it be possible to remove the blanket? I think more intense heat might help even more."

"Absolutely not," he said firmly, his tone brooking no argument. "Direct contact with the bottle could result in burns. The blanket stays."

After a moment's consideration, you decided that the risk of burns did indeed outweigh the potential relief from your cramps—at least for now. You nodded, opting to keep the blanket wrapped around the water bottle, appreciating its safer warmth.

A sense of contentment washed over you as you marvelled at how this day, which had started so unexpectedly, had blossomed into something truly special.

You were with the love of your life, freshly bathed and dressed in his clothes, tucked into a clean bed with a soothing hot water bottle warming your skin and fighting against what usually was traumatic levels of pain. Tears welled in your eyes as pure bliss coursed through your veins, overwhelming you before you could even process the feeling.

As the first tear rolled down your cheek, Erik instinctively sprang into action. You couldn't help but laugh through your cascading tears, raising your hands to signal him to relax. Though hesitant, he wordlessly complied with your wishes.

"I'm okay," you sniffled, your words punctuated by small sobs. "I don't know why I'm crying. I'm just so... happy. I think I'm really, truly happy."

His eyes widened behind the mask, a mixture of surprise and awe flashing across the few of his visible features. Unable to resist, you reached up, gently grasping his hand and guiding him to lay beside you on the bed. He remained motionless, seemingly caught between disbelief and anticipation. Your heart racing, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his in a tender, affectionate kiss that conveyed all the emotions words couldn't quite express.

Wiping your eyes with the sleeves of your night shirt, you clutched the water bottle tighter and rolled onto your side. You nestled into his chest, his arm instinctively wrapping around you as you melded into his trembling form. Yearning for closeness, you draped your leg over his hips, your body seeking every possible point of contact.

"But—" He stammered, shaking his head in disbelief. Bewilderment dripped from his voice as he continued, "You haven't eaten all day. Surely, I should prepare something for you—"

"No," you replied, your tone firm yet affectionate.

"You must-"

"Nuh-uh," you teased.

"Really I should-"

"Shh." You leaned closer, your faces mere inches apart as you rested an arm over his waist. He tensed at the contact, despite the familiar porcelain barrier between you. "Just stay with me like this for a little while, please? Afterward, you can make all the cold meat sandwiches your heart desires."

"You told me you liked those," he grumbled in playful accusation.

A soft laugh escaped your lips as your eyes shimmered with unbridled affection. If Erik were to meet your gaze, all he'd be able to see was the pure, unadulterated euphoria radiating from your smile.

"I do," you agreed with a nod, “but only because you make them with so much love."

"So, you don't?"

You hummed thoughtfully, tilting your head back as if deeply pondering the culinary merits of cold meat sandwiches. "They're good, but they could use a little something extra," you mused. "Maybe some cucumber for crunch? Or a slice of mozzarella for creaminess?"

He scoffed in mock offence, "That completely distracts from the flavour of the meat."

"Flavour?"

"I'm glad you agree."

You pursed your lips before releasing a long, deliberate sigh. Your eyes flicked from his face to the clock. The time read 9:45 PM, yet an unwelcome wakefulness clung to you—undoubtedly a lingering consequence of your excessive eleven-hour nap.

"I’ve completely ruined my sleep schedule, haven’t I?" you mumbled. "It’s late in the evening, and I’m nowhere near tired.”

Erik paused thoughtfully before replying, "I can make you something to aid with sleep, if you'd like."

"What do you have in mind?" you asked, curiosity evident in your tone.

He thought over the matter before deciding.

"I have some dried valerian root that I can steep into a tea," he offered. "I've tried it on rare occasions. It's quite bitter, but I can add some chamomile to sweeten the taste."

"You're so lovely," you giggled, unaware of how he tensed at the compliment. "So kind and thoughtful—you call me an angel, but I think the real angel here is you. My Angel."

He paused, visibly stunned by your words.

His voice was soft and hesitant as he asked, "you believe that?"

You nodded, a soft hum of agreement escaping your lips. "I do," you said sweetly, your voice brimming with unwavering certainty.

You felt the rise and fall of his chest as he took a deep breath, seemingly trying to steady his racing heartbeat. His hold tightened around you, drawing you even closer. A radiant smile spread across your face.

"So," he stammered, clearly flustered by the compliment, "is that a yes to the tea?"

"I'd love some tea," you nodded eagerly. "But could you stay with me for ten more minutes first?"

He nodded, and you both settled into a comfortable silence—a respite he seemed to appreciate. Your fingers traced idle patterns on his palm, while his gently wove through your hair.

Ten minutes passed in this tranquil state, and you quickly realised that maybe the tea was unnecessary after all. Every thirty seconds or so, you found yourself stifling an uncontrollable yawn—a gesture you noticed Erik unconsciously mirroring.

Your eyelids grew heavy, the combined warmth of his body and the water bottle proving irresistible. You drifted toward sleep at least five times, always jolting awake at the last moment before you fully succumbed. Despite your drowsiness, you yearned to savour this moment just a little longer.

"Do you still want that tea?" Erik asked, his voice heavy with exhaustion.

You shook your head and nestled closer to his chest. "I'm fine now," you murmured contentedly.

"Good," he replied, his hand gently smoothing down your flyaway hairs. He seemed on the verge of saying more, but fatigue clouded his thoughts, and he let the moment pass.

He yawned once more, momentarily pulling away from you. You whined in protest, but he shushed you as he reached behind his head to untie his mask. Attempting to place it carefully on the bedside table, he misjudged the distance, and it slipped towards the floor.

The mask remained intact, though the sound it emitted was sharp enough to make you flinch. To your astonishment, Erik seemed unconcerned by the possible harm. Instead, he calmly readjusted your position so you were laying as before, then closed his eyes. A surge of emotion swelled in your chest.

Erik had grown comfortable with you seeing him without his mask, though he typically preferred to keep it on unless taken by surprise or during the quiet hours of the night when you were both sleeping. His current indifference toward the mask could mean one of two things: either he was too exhausted to notice its near demise, or he had become so deeply at ease with you that he no longer felt the need to shield himself behind it.

Erik possessed other masks, but they could never replace his favourite. His primary one was treated with the utmost reverence, as fragile and irreplaceable as a feather. It was the one he felt most secure in and allowed him the most normalcy, therefore it was always his first choice regardless of other options. Yet now, without hesitation or concern, he had allowed it to fall away, as though its significance had vanished entirely, as if the bond between you had rendered it unnecessary.

You felt the urge to cry again, but not wanting to disturb his sleep, you suppressed your tears as you contemplated the significance of this moment for both of you.

"I love you," you whispered, your voice cracking with emotion. Though it could be mistaken for tiredness, the tremor in your words betrayed your overwhelming desire to burst into tears of joy.

After a moment, one bleary eye opened as he turned to face you. His lips curved into a genuine smile as he whispered, "I love you too."

'hot water pigs' are what people used to call hot water bottles, or at least their versions of them, just so you know lol. writing these fics always requires so much research into old terms and the existence of things that are now regular everyday items, it's kind of crazy. like trying to figure out how much was known about periods in the late 1800s early 1900s was a challenge.

[seaslugfanclub]

Smee: Why does (Y/N) call you babygirl?

Captain Hook: How about we stop talking for a while?

————————————————————————

*(Y/N), taking the stage after the Villains took over the House of Mouse*: Clap if you ever wanted to kill somebody

*The Villains devolving into claps and cheers*

————————————————————————

(Y/N): I don’t think we ever got over that language barrier…

Ernesto De La Cruz: No, no, it’s not your fault

(Y/N): What the fuck, you speak English?!

Ernesto De La Cruz: Of course I do

————————————————————————

(Y/N): I’ve got to get back home before James realizes I’m not in bed

*Hook, back at (Y/N)’s house*: (y/n)?..(Y/N)!?

————————————————————————

(Y/N): How old are you?

Gaston: Wait… guess.

(Y/N): 36?

Gaston: WHAT!? 36– THAT WAS SO FAR OFF

————————————————————————

[classic-disney-imagines]

A big mistake

Requested:

From anonymous

Fandom: The Lion King (2019)

Pairing: Scar x human!reader x Shenzi x human!reader

~~~

For as long as you can remember, you have always been passionate about animals, especially the ones that roamed in the Savannah.

The thing is, you were never scared of hyenas until one tried to get you alive. As a child, you went on camping trips with your parents and siblings in the Savannah. There was one camping trip in particular you will always remember because well, you somehow got lost in the Savannah.

You had a gift handed down to you at birth, the ability to talk to animals and when you had run into Mufasa, Scar, and even a few of the hyenas, they were able to help find your way back home, to your family. Not only had this been the last time you ventured off into the Savannah, but it was also the last time you’ve seen them. Those animals who had become your friends never slipped your mind, not even once. You were determined and dedicated on going back to find them, and you waited for that opportunity to seize. Finally, you were able to seize that opportunity when you were invited by some friends of yours on a trip back to the Savannah, the very same place where you met Scar and the hyenas. You made the whole purpose of the trip to find them, but to avail. No sooner did you arrive, you were already looking at your last day, wrapping things up with a campfire and friends, talking about the trip and feeling that it was successful.

Although you did not meet your goal, you still remained optimistic. It was still a difficult pill to swallow, but you were quick to learn to accept it. A lion’s roar disrupted the gathering around the fire, a roar that seemed to be close by. All of you knew there were quite a lot of lions around and other predators, but no one had brought some form of protection, specifically a gun. Knowing there were lions close by, your friends worried about you sleeping outside instead of in a tent. Every night you slept outside, and when your friends protested, there was no changing your mind. Yes, predators were nearby, but you weren’t going to sleep in a tent, that would soon become a big mistake. All you had to sleep in was a sleeping bag and a cheap mosquito net. With some protection, or so you thought, you would put camping chairs around you before falling asleep.

After everyone had turned in for the night, you were fast asleep when Shenzi wonders into your campsite, looking for things that might have been thrown out after dinner when she stumbles upon you. Not realizing it was you, Shenzi goes in for the attack and next thing you know, you are waking up to Shenzi attacking you. Once you realize this was a hyena attack, your blood runs cold as you immediately begin to fight back, and you were good at it, too. You had no idea this was Shenzi, thinking it was one you didn’t know. You put up a fight as she was trying to drag you off into the same bushes where many others have met their end, and you were next. You were next, but you weren’t going to be next if you could help it. On instinct, you try to stand, but that was highly impossible as Shenzi was much stronger than you. You were crying out for help, and with Scar being nearby, he heard your cries and recognized it to be you and made his way over. Scar got there and was furious when he saw Shenzi attacking you, he is quick to intervene and that’s what had saved your life.

“Shenzi! (Y/n) isn’t your enemy! Let go of her and don’t come back!”

Shenzi is taken by surprise as she realizes it’s you and releases you right at the same time your friends rush from their tents to aid you, after being woken up from the commotion taking place.

As you felt the side of your face, you knew there will be stitches needed and you’re a long way from the nearest hospital. While Shenzi takes off with the other hyenas, Scar stays behind and makes sure that you’re getting taken care of by your friends and once you’re taken away, Scar takes off in the same direction of the hyenas, not expecting for you to show up again, but you do.

~~~

It’s not until a few months later that you show up, and when you do return, it was easy to find Scar and the hyenas.

After just one look at the result of your injury, Scar was furious once more. Not at you, never at you, but towards Shenzi. His fury towards Shenzi struck a drop of fear in you, as you didn’t want anything to happen to your old friend even though you are more cautious from now on around them. You told Scar even though the attack had struck some fear of hyenas through your veins, you reasoned with Scar, and although he was reluctant to, he agreed that no one would get hurt over this incident.

When you requested to see Shenzi, he hesitated but agreed to let you see and talk to her. You followed as he led the way. Scar stood next to you as if he was your guard once you got there, you kept distance and the moment Shenzi had come out to see you, she immediately begins to apologize to you for her mistake.

Scar stood by you the whole time.

“(Y/n), I’m sorry. I didn’t know that was you.” Shenzi apologizes.

“It’s okay, Shenzi. I just wanted to come and let you know that. I also want you to know that I don’t blame you at all and I would still like for us to be friends.”

Shenzi looked up at you with a smile and a nod in agreement.

~~~

“So, did that go as you pretty much planned it?” Scar says.

“Certainly did.”

As Scar accompanied you on your way out, he was surprised to learn of your point of view during the sudden attack.

He’d be lying if he had said he wasn’t impressed after telling him that you don’t blame Shenzi at all and even more so when you mention the fact it was your own doing for not listening to your friends to shelter yourself during the night, as you can never drop your guard on the Savannah. Upon saying all that and meaning it, Scar only respected you more, while wishing there were more like you in the world today who truly cared.

You explain the attack to your old friend in the best you could, in a way that might help him to understand it.

“Scar, I really didn’t feel a thing during the attack. At least, not at first because it all happened so fast I didn’t have time to process what it felt like. I didn’t feel anything until I went in to get treated for it.”

“What did that feel like than?”

“Well, I had to get stitches on the right side of my face, and because I couldn’t be put to sleep during the procedure, I was held down on the table by my friends while they did the job and that was very, very, very painful.”

As you continue to go on with the conversation, you don’t mention the most gruesome part of the attack, and that was temporarily losing your ear, literally.

That was the first to go when it started, but it was still in one piece by the time the ordeal had ended. The only thing you said or acknowledged anything about it was admitting to Scar your biggest fear was of losing your hearing and how that might bring you nothing but more loss. For example, what if you could no longer do what you loved doing most because of it?

But once it was saved and you healed, you go onto reassure him that your hearing had been restored and you were able to continue to what you loved, Scar found it amazing that despite of everything, it was truly amazing you still want to help care of and protect all animals as others would turn their backs.

Truly incredible.

Truly inspiring.

~~~

A/N:

Here you go, anon!

I hope this is done justice for you and thank you for this request!

[knoepfl]

The Hunter’s Soft Heart – Part 2

Characters:

Gaston: The self-assured hunter of the village, wrestling with new and unfamiliar thoughts about Adeline.

Adeline Rousseau (OC): A shy, soft-spoken woman whose quiet admiration lingers in Gaston’s mind, drawing him toward her without effort.

LeFou: Gaston’s loyal friend and sidekick, always there to offer encouragement and observations, even when Gaston doesn’t ask for them.

Trigger Warnings: None

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 3

Words: 766

Restless Thoughts at the Tavern

The dim glow of the tavern’s lanterns flickered against the wooden walls as Gaston leaned back in his usual seat by the fireplace, a tankard of ale resting in his hand. The air was filled with the familiar scent of roasted meat, spilled beer, and smoke from the hearth. Around him, the chatter of villagers buzzed—boasting farmers, drunken hunters, and women casting longing glances his way.

But Gaston wasn’t paying attention to any of it.

He tapped his fingers against the side of his tankard, staring at the foam as it fizzled and popped. For the first time in a long while, Gaston’s mind wasn’t on himself—or on anyone else who might admire him.

It was on her.

“Adeline,” he muttered under his breath, testing the sound of her name again. It had a softness to it, like the brush of wind through autumn leaves. Not grand or impressive—just simple and sweet.

Across the table, LeFou watched Gaston curiously, sipping his own drink. “Alright, Gaston. What’s on your mind? I’ve known you long enough to tell when something’s eating at you.”

“Nothing’s eating at me,” Gaston grunted, setting his tankard down with a little too much force. “It’s just… strange.”

“What’s strange?”

Gaston swirled the drink in his mug, his brow furrowing. “That girl. Adeline. She wasn’t like the others.”

LeFou tilted his head. “You mean, she wasn’t falling all over you?”

“Exactly!” Gaston exclaimed, pointing a finger for emphasis. “She wasn’t fawning, wasn’t giggling, wasn’t begging me to marry her.” He paused, thinking back to the way she had blushed when he smiled at her, the way she looked down shyly instead of meeting his gaze. “But she still noticed. She liked me. She just… didn’t show it the same way.”

LeFou grinned, leaning forward eagerly. “So, you do like her, then?”

Gaston scoffed, crossing his arms. “Like her? I don’t even know her.”

But even as he said it, Gaston knew it wasn’t entirely true. There was something about Adeline—something in the way she had quietly admired him, without demanding anything in return—that lingered in his thoughts.

He liked how soft she was. How shy. How, when she looked at him, it didn’t feel like a challenge to conquer but a quiet moment of appreciation. It was… peaceful.

And that unsettled him more than he cared to admit.

LeFou gave him a knowing nudge. “Admit it, Gaston. You’ve got her on your mind.”

“I don’t have anyone on my mind,” Gaston muttered, though his scowl was half-hearted.

He picked up his drink again, taking a long sip as if it might wash away the strange, unfamiliar feeling creeping into his chest. He wasn’t used to thinking about someone—especially not after just one conversation. Usually, women came and went, their faces blending together in his mind. But Adeline’s face… that one stuck.

It wasn’t just her looks, either, though she was pretty in a quiet, unassuming way. It was the way she made him feel—important, but not in the way he was used to.

For the first time, he wondered what it might be like to see that soft smile of hers again.

“Well,” LeFou said, breaking into his thoughts, “if she’s not on your mind now, she will be soon. You’re not exactly the kind of man to leave things unfinished.”

Gaston gave him a sharp look. “You think I’m chasing after her?”

LeFou shrugged. “I think you want to see her again. And honestly, Gaston, I think you like the idea of being admired by someone who isn’t trying to show off for you.”

Gaston opened his mouth to argue, but no words came.

LeFou wasn’t wrong. Adeline hadn’t tried to impress him, hadn’t put on airs to win his attention. And somehow, that made her admiration feel more… real.

He grumbled under his breath, annoyed with himself. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. He was Gaston, the strongest and most desirable man in the village. Women were supposed to be obsessed with him, not the other way around.

And yet, here he was, sitting in the tavern, thinking about a quiet, shy woman who had only spoken a handful of words to him.

With a frustrated sigh, Gaston leaned back in his chair, glaring at his tankard as if it had personally offended him. “This is ridiculous.”

LeFou chuckled. “Maybe. But it looks like she got under your skin.”

Gaston scowled but didn’t deny it.

The truth was, he couldn’t get Adeline out of his head. And the more he thought about it, the more he realized he didn’t mind.

---

Author’s Note:

Thank you for reading this second part! Here, I wanted to highlight Gaston’s inner conflict as he begins to realize that Adeline’s quiet admiration has impacted him in ways he didn’t expect. I also enjoyed showing LeFou’s playful dynamic with Gaston, as his friend nudges him toward facing his emotions. Stay tuned for more as this unlikely relationship unfolds!

[do2faj]

Help him make the music of the night

[viridescentelf]

can someone draw elliott in gaston‘s clothes when he opens his shirt in the song

you know

for science

:‘)

[gojoforever69]

NAH THIS WIIILLDD. YALL NEED TOO CHIILLL.

Credits to og owner

[lolawritesfanfic]

Yandere Gaston x Female Reader

Concept: Gaston loves you, but you mostly talk to Lefou more then him, you mostly ignore Gaston and the bimbettes are all over him any chance they get.

TW: Murder, use of the word slut. Enjoy reading.

No One's Pov: You had moved into a little house recently ( Belle's House because her and her father moved into the castle.) you only moved recently plenty of space for your books and projects, you had met most of the village in days. You like talking to lefou. His idiot friend Gaston is a bit annoying to you because he keeps trying to woo you but your not interested, you see triplets glaring at you from how much attention Gaston is giving you and you ask Lefou about them. You asked 'if they are normally like that' He said 'dont worry about them they are just after something they cant have' as He said that He pointed at Gaston, you nod your head putting the dots together.

Gaston keeps trying to get your attention you just ignore him your not interested he didn't like that. he tried everything to get your attention like talking to you in the square and sweep you off your feet, literally he arranged with the tavern for just you and him. you somehow got convinced in going you enter the tavern at the time you were told to, you see candles everywhere creating a warm cosy atmosphere you see Gaston by his chair he comes over to you and gives you his usual smile, you don't know what to do so you just look around, Gaston steps closer. "you look radiant." you smile " thank you did you do this." He nods and leads you to a table, you follow and sit, he sits across from you. " you know you'd be perfect as my wife." he says leaning forward, you shake your head " you know I'm not ready for that, and you have the bimbettes they are three of one person" you say still looking around at all the candles. He holds your hand He's getting frustrated that your not accepting his advances "the bimbettes are a bunch of sluts they are nothing compared to you." He says looking at you, you notice some red liquid on the floor "what's that?" you say moving closer to it, Gaston moves in front of you. " what's what?" he says making you look up at him so your not looking at the red liquid, as you look up you look past his head and see Lefou's corpse on the antlers dead and bloody, his blood was dripping on the floor, you back up from Gaston until your back hits the bar. " are you alright my dear-?" He says looking fake concerned, you nod and turn around to face the bar, you see the bimbettes body's are there and they have been brutally mutilated behind the bar, before you can react Gaston grabs you and covers your mouth so you can't scream "don't worry darling they were just in the way of our love soon you'll be my wife and no one will come between us." He sounds manic when he says it. You grip on to his hand on your mouth and try to pry it away. you notice this and lets go but still keeps you close to him "what did you do to them!!!!" you say panicked he looks at you and kisses your neck and jaw, " what was necessary my darling those three sluts kept trying to keep my attention from you and you were always with Lefou and not me, I couldn't stand it" you look panicked and stutter "s-so you k-killed them" you look like you're about to throw up, cry and everything in between.

Gaston holds you in place " this is perfect for us darling just you and me and no one coming between us." he says in your ear. you fight him, you manage to get out of his grip and go to run before you can make it to the door, he pins you to it and threatens "if you leave it's your family next!" you freeze you don't know what to do you don't want your family killed "G-Gaston" you stutter "you wouldn't" you say as tears fall down your face, Gaston smirks and cups your face wiping away the tears " I wont if you stay with me and be my good little wife-" He says getting in your face and his voice getting lower and deeper "or everybody dies" you look terrified you have no choice, "ok" you said.

A couple of years later.......

You and Gaston have been together for a while now everyone was surprised but happy and you had two children and one on the way Gaston comes home from hunting with something big he takes it to the kitchen and then comes to you "Have you been good" He says tilting your chin up to look at you "yes" you say sounding convincing "Good, and your not doing anything to harm the baby" He says kissing you "No" "Good" you know, you can't leave you've given up trying You're Gaston's Good Little Wife.

Finished.

[persnicketypomelo]

Hello! I'm not sure if your requests are open but I absolutely adore the way your write Leroux!Erik he's so in character so I want to ask your opinion on how he would be with a partner who is an artist and would like to dedicate art pieces to him or draw him? Thank you!!

My requests are permanently open for now. :) I may add open/closed status depending in the future if I feel too overwhelmed.

Content warnings: disgustingly sweet

Erik with an Artist Reader

It would be very flattering for him

He fully expects to be the artist, of sorts, in your relationship by default

Someone that matches him on that front is unexpected, but not unwelcome

I'm interpreting artist--in this case-- as a visual artist, maybe a painter or something of the sort

Say you wanted to paint a portrait of him

Like in many of the other scenarios I've written, it would require some time, coaxing, and support in building self-esteem

I think the time you spend together in the process of your craft could be deeply bonding in a way that may be incomparable in other scenarios

There may be times when you go for extended lengths without speaking as you work on your respective pieces

But the silence is a comfortable between two people so accustomed to each other, that words aren't necessary

Especially if you are a visual artist, I can imagine your finished works populating and slowly consuming his walls

In your early days with him, it will just be one or two pieces

But once you've been with him for some time, his walls may very well become your own gallery

Erik would enjoy not only your artistry, but each painting is your fingerprint

It shows that you live here, with him, a reality he can still scarcely believe

And on a more personal level, your paintings spread across his home reinforces to him that you are utterly his, and he is forever yours

However, just because you are also in some field of art, that wouldn't change the fact that he wants to dedicate his every piece to you

He still searches for your eye, checking to see that you're paying attention to him and his work

In pursuit for your own creation, just make sure you spare some of your energy and admiration for his, as he will, undoubtedly, for you