#phantom reader insert

Pairing: Erik Destler x fem!reader

Warnings: cursing/vulgar language 

Word count: 536

Request by: anonymous

“Hello! Can I please request a fic or HCs where erik is in a relationship with the reader but shes really modern and vulgar for someone living in the 19th century and keeps making him blush? But he really loves it?“

A/N: I love this idea (I connected with this reader just a little bit, TBH)! I wanted to write it right away, so I made it a drabble, I hope that’s okay :) Thank you so much for this request! <3 The words in italics are French curses (or at least the internet says so) and any French is translated to English in the parentheses. (Google translate again, so sorry for any mistakes)

P.S. - I also got your thank you message and thought it was so sweet! Thank you anon!

Request?: Yep!

Requested by who?: Anonymous

AU: N/A

Characters: Phantom, Reader, Andy, Shawn

Warnings: Phantom is a manipulative buttface, I may have cursed, and uh, idk, shrinkage, and not a happy ending.

Words:  1299

A/N: This is Part Two for “Is It To Your Satisfaction?”. This was originally written in first person for my Creative Writing class so I apologize if I left in any I/my pronouns and/or the name I gave the main character (Tessa).

—-

When you wake up, you put on your nicest outfit,, and go back to the bar. You take a seat, the same one you’d taken the night before, and wait. Some part of you hopes that Phantom will come back - he was an interesting man. Shawn smiles, asks you if you’d like anything to drink. You don’t usually drink early in the morning, but you order a scotch and continue to wait.

The magician is back on stage, although if by miracle he’s not half as bad as the night before. In fact, he’s better than any magician you’d ever seen before. Everyone is entranced, yourself included.

“How’s the entertainment today?” You tear your gaze away, and there’s Phantom sitting beside you, leaning against the bar and waiting for your response. You find yourself smiling. “Is it to your satisfaction?” There’s that question again.

“You guys sure do aim to satisfy, don’t you?” You ask, laughing.

“What kind of hotel would it be if we didn’t?” He asked with a wink. “So, the entertainment?”

“Much better.” You hum. “You wouldn’t have anything to do with that, would you?” You inquired, watching Phantom as he swirled a finger around the glass bulb of his cane, seemingly uninterested in the entertainment.

“I might have.” He told you with a smile. “I have a… knack, for helping those with creative outlets.”

“You wouldn’t happen to be able to help a striving artist, would you?” You joked.

“So, you’re an artist?” He asked, perking up a bit. You seemed to have peaked his interest, and he leaned forward, not taking his eyes off of you.

“A striving one.” You said, finishing my drink. You’d drawn ever since you were a kid, but they’re never good enough. Not for you. “God, I would give anything to get better.” You told him, and it was the truth.

You would do anything.

“Anything?” The question sends a chill up your spine, but you nod nonetheless. He stood suddenly, holding out a hand to you. “Come with me.” He said.

You hesitated. You barely knew this man, but seeing how well the magician got with his help, you couldn’t find myself saying no.

When you took his hand, Phantom led you out of the bar. You caught Shawn’s gaze and the look in his eyes shocked you. He looked… sad. You open your mouth to say something, but Phantom kept his pace. He brought you through the lobby, and through a door that read ‘employees only’. It was a narrow hallway with a handful of doors. As the two of you approached the end of the hall, Phantom turned to the left and grabbed the brass knob of a tall dark wood door, pushing it open, and lead you inside.

It was a mess. The light was dim, casting shadows using the piles of papers, and boxes full of books. Drawings and writings and instruments were spread out everywhere, and at the center of it all was large desk. Phantom released your hand, and took a seat behind said desk.

“Please,” he said, motioning to the seat across from him. “Sit.” You did so, waiting for what he had to say.

“So, you wanna be an artist, hm?” He opened a draw in his desk, shuffling through papers and files. “I can help you with that.” He pulled out a scroll, wrapped up in a red ribbon. As the pulled the paper free, it unraveled to its full length. Laid down, the paper covered the width of the desk. Beautiful calligraphy covered it from head to toe, and at the bottom was a signature line.

“A contract?” You asked, eyebrow raised.

“A contract stating that I,” he motioned to himself. “Will help you achieve your artistic dream. For a price, of course.”

“How much?”

“Oh, no, not money.” He said, waving you off. You frown, confused

“Then what?”

“I look for something much more… spiritual.” You said nothing to that, just raise an eyebrow. He leans forward, as if to tell you a secret and you find yourself leaning in as well. He smiled as the words passed his lips. “Your soul.”

“My soul?” You lean back, certain he’s joking. It’s too cliche you tell yourself, but as your gaze meets his, you can tell he’s dead serious. “You mean metaphorically?”

“Oh no, doll. I’m quite serious.” He says, taking a pen from the same drawer. “You see, I have the ability to enhance the creative parts of people’s souls. I can take an actor and make him a lead. I can take a singer and put her at the top of the charts. I can take a magician and teach them magic overnight.” He holds out the pen, enticing you forward.

You never believed in the supernatural. You didn’t believe that someone could enhance the human soul, but you found yourself hooked on his every word. You couldn’t pull yourself away.

“It just takes one signature.” He handed you the pen, and you stared down at the crisp ink signature line for longer than you could remember. You don’t remember signing the contract, but there was your name, scribbled in black ink plain as day. Phantom handed you a sketch pad and requesting you draw something. Anything you wanted to.

You opened to the first blank page, and with the same pen, began your drawing. You don’t remember how long you sat there, but when you had finished every part of your body was aching.  After a moment, you looked down at your masterpiece.

It was a drawing of him.

Phantom stood, slowly making his way over to you. He leaned on the back of your chair and chuckled.

“I am very handsome, aren’t I?” You set down the pen, your eyes never leaving the drawing. Out of everything I could have drawn, why was it him? You asked yourself “I have always admired human capability,” As he spoke, your thoughts became hazy. It was becoming harder and harder to stay awake. “That’s why I do what I do. I hope there’ll be no hard feelings.” With that, you  blacked out.

When you woke from your daze, you found yourself lying on a wooden floor. You slowly got to your feet and looked around. You were shocked to find yourself concealed in a tall glass dome, from which you had view of an enlarged room - the same room you had stayed in the night before. You could tell because you saw your bag, sitting on the floor.

But it made no sense. You had just been in Phantom’s office. You couldn’t be here - you couldn’t be small like this.

I turned my head, gasping when you realized that beside me another glass jar, one that you recognized. When you’d looked at the knickknacks it had stood out to you - the figurine of the girl in the 50’s dress. But she was alive, and trapped in her glass casing. She sat, knees pulled to her chest, crying. You pressed your hand to the glass, but it wouldn’t budge. You began to panic. You called out to her, but if she heard you she didn’t react.

In that moment the door opened and Andy stepped inside. You called out to him too, but like a robot he moved to the bed, grabbing your bag and putting away what you hadn’t. When he finished, he finally turned to face you. He walked closer and closer until he towered over you. Slowly, he knelt down, and placed a finger on the glass dome, stroking it. He looked sad.

“I am so sorry, miss.” He said in a low tone, then he stood, straightening his tie as he did so. “I do hope you are satisfied.”

Pairing: Phantom x fem!reader

Warnings: blind reader, slightly ‘mystical’ Phantom

Word count: 907

Request by: anonymous

“Hello, I just want to say first of all that I adore your writing! I haven't been able to find a story with this particular idea, so I thought I'd make a request. It's completely your choice whether you want to write a fic of headcanons, but what do you think Erik's relationship with a blind reader would be like?”

A/N: Thank you for the sweet compliment darling and thank you for the request! I hope you enjoy this drabble! I literally smashed it out in an afternoon (this includes the few hours I procrastinated and looked up obscure things on the web). Stay tuned for a NCIS one-shot next!

P.S. - Sorry for the more specific image. You can imagine yourself in the woman’s place. I simply liked the intimacy of their position for this piece.

First of all, thank you so much for the request darling! And I have decided to do a headcanon, a first for me (lowkey super excited about it!!). I made the reader gender-neutral, or at least tried, as you did not specify and I wanted to make it for you as best as I could. 

As for request, rules go, I actually have only one, which is that I won’t write anything that is NSFW, so you are perfectly fine my dear. Anyways, here goes nothing, I hope its what you wanted! 

You were a member of the stage crew for the opera house, doing what was needed to make the opera house run smoothly.

Cleaning, you did a lot of that and a lot of costume repair. 

It didn’t matter what you did, as you weren’t especially skilled at any one thing in particular.

And you were not one that could sing or dance either.

Because of this, you had been surprised, pleasantly so, when you had caught the eye of the famed Phantom. 

He had left you letters, ones that detailed his feelings for you.

The first letter had simply said that you had drawn the eye of the man called the Phantom.

Every letter after that had gotten longer and longer, each one was more exquisite and beautifully written than the last.

And roses, he gave you so many roses.

Each one had a small, delicate ribbon tied to it. You found them in your work area, in your personal storage drawer, and even lying in areas you rested during your rare breaks.

The undivided and attentive love he had shown you, despite you never having met him, had led to you falling in love with him in return.

It wasn’t normal, at least for him, to feel these feelings. Feelings that he had come to realize were those of love.

He didn’t expect to fall in love with anyone else, not after what happened with Christine. 

But he had, with you. You had come into his vision one day and had never left.

He had slowly become consumed with thoughts of you and a life he could have with you. 

Of course darling! Thank you so much for the request!! And the compliment! I love that I can make something y’all enjoy! <3 <3

Alright, here it goes.

You had been drawing him, or at least what you thought he looked like, for months.

It had started when he had appeared, almost out of thin air, during one of the dress rehearsals, demanding that Christine take the lead soprano role.

After all, as he put it, “This is my opera house, and you fools will listen to me.”

Ever since then, you had been consumed with thoughts of him.

Of his mysterious nature, black flowing cape, deep, dark voice, and the bright white mask adorning his face.

These thoughts carried over into your art.

It started with one small, crudely drawn ‘Phantom’ figure and had become pages upon pages of sketches and drawings that focused on every little detail of his appearance. 

You drew him as you saw him in your mind.

Flawless

Dark

Full of mystery

Obsessed with the music

Furiously composing

Dramatically playing the organ

Looming in the shadows

But also...

Tender

Human

A man

Everything you knew and everything you had heard about him converged together, creating an image of him that you believed to be true.

You soon had a book full of the art you had created of him. Once it was complete, you had placed the book on the small, rickety shelf you had next to your bed at the opera house.

Because you saw that book on your shelf every day, it didn’t take you long to realize it had gone missing. 

After wildly searching for days, you had to give up hope that you would ever find it. You just hoped that it hadn’t gotten into the wrong hands, the hands of someone who would use those drawing against you.

What you didn’t know, was that the Phantom, Erik, had seen you ferociously drawing in it many times and his curiosity had gotten the best of him.

He had taken it, from your room, in the middle of the day, like a common thief.

Something he hadn’t been proud of when he had done it, but seeing those drawings had made him forget all about having stolen your drawings

At first, he had been angry. Unbelievably so.

The thought that someone had watched him and thought they knew who he was, had infuriated him.

But then, he was filled with adoration, pride, intrigue, inspiration, and a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Happiness

He was happy. So much so that he wanted to know the artist behind the work.

You.

He returned the book to its spot on your shelf and waited for you one evening.

You had just spent the entire day working and seeing the Phantom melt out of the shadows of your room, had been a lot to handle.

Once you had gotten over your shock of having the Phantom in your room, you had sat down and listened as he had told you, in very little words, that he had taken the drawings.

He told you how much your creative ability had intrigued and inspired him.

And he had told you that he wanted to know you, the true you, as you had discovered the truest version of himself.

I told @freckled-words that I wrote this and she said “Curse You” and told me to tag her hehehehe

This is the first time I’m writing for Phantom, and his character will likely change the more I learn about him. But I hope you enjoy what I have so far!

I do have an idea for a part two for this, if y’all would like!

Also if you can’t tell, I have NO idea how hotels work XD

Warnnings: I don’t think there’s anything, but please let me know if you see something!

Words: 1119

—-

The hotel seemed nice enough from the outside. It wasn’t broken down or ruddy looking. And the glowing sign out front, while not flickering, didn’t shine to the point that you wanted to gouge out your eyes. It felt rather homey, and homey was exactly what you needed.

There were a few people sitting in the lobby area, and they were decently dresses, nothing too fancy or flashy. Jazz music played softly from a few speakers above your head, and there was a kind man waiting to greet you at the front desk. His nametag read “Andy”.

“Why hello there, how may I help you?” He asked with a smile.

“Well, I’m just hoping for an affordable room for the next couple of nights.” You told him, playing with the strap of your bag. Your only bag.

“Ah, of course, of course! We can give you room 5-92C! Unless, of course, you’d like a view, than we have room 7-12A.” He held out two keys, each with room numbers on them. “Two nights will be $200.”

“Each?” You asked.

“Nope. $200 total.” Andy jingled the keys. “We always aim to satisfy here, after all. Is the price to your satisfaction?” You couldn’t find yourself saying no - a two night stay for only a couple hundred bucks? Where would you get a better deal.

“Yes,” You say, taking the key to 7-12A. “Yes.” You could faintly remember following Andy to your room, up the stairs, down the hall, past the ice machine. He’d offered to carry your bag, and even though you insisted it was fine, he did so anyway.

“Your room,” He waited for you to open the door and step inside before moving to place your bag on the bed. “If you need anything at all, don’t be scared to give us a ring downstairs. The bar and entertainment room is just past the lobby desk, the ice machine is just down the hall, and the landry room will have to be opened by myself or another bellhop. Please, do enjoy your stay.” Once he’s gone, you start unpacking your small bag, even though you know you’ll just be packing it up again tomorrow.

You take a quick shower, letting the warm water and surprisingly steady, strong pressure flow against your skin. When you finally got out, you put on your cleanest outfit and made your way out the door, key in one pocket, wallet in the other. You really needed a drink.

The bar room was just beside the lobby, as Andy had said. It was a little cramped, a few people seated here and there, drinks in hands. And a stage, where some poor soul was attempting to “pull a rabbit out of a hat”. You rolled your eyes, talking a seat at the bar.

“What can I get for you?” The bartender asked, wiping a glass with a clean towel.

“Anything that can keep me awake though this,” you said while making a small motion to the stage. The bartender chuckled.

“I’ve got just the thing, doll.” And when he finally passed you your drink, you were not disappointed. And you felt yourself buzzing as a man dressed in black and red approached you, tapping his cane against the floor as he hummed an unfamiliar tune.

“Hello there,” he said with a smile. “And who might you be?” He took a seat beside you. You took a moment to look him over, appreciating the tattoos on his arm for a moment longer than you intended to. When you to go his face, he was smiling a cocky smile like he knew exactly what you’d been doing.

“Who’s asking?” You reply, eyebrow raised. He mimics you, motioning to the bartender with one hand.

“Well, doll, the owner of this establishment.” He then made a gesture to the room. He took his drink from the bartender (Shawn, you read his nametag) and tossed it back. “They call me Phantom. What do they call you?”

“(F/N).” You tell him, deciding that a first name would be good enough. “You’ve got a really nice place here… Phantom.” It was a strange name, you would admit, but nothing stranger than names you’d heard before.

“Well, you know doll, it pays the bills.” You watched out of the corner of your eye as the magician was booed off stage.

“Can’t say too much about the entertainment, though.” This seemed to peak his interest, though you felt somehow that wasn’t much of a good thing. He stood.

“Well, doll, I guess we just gotta try a bit harder, huh?” Suddenly he snapped - a sharp sound that seemed to cut the air, the the room fell silent as he approached the stage with such swagger you wanted to slap the confidence off of him. He switched his cane for the old-timey mic at the edge of the stage. He tapped it a couple of times to see if it was on.

A soft melody began playing from god-knows-where and a hum rumbled out of his chest. You could certainly say you were blown away by the mixture of his vocals and the instruments, and overall his short but cocky performer. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him as the lyrics passed his lips, none of it making much sense, but still music to your ears. You barely noticed when the music picked up.

Phantom sent a wink your way as his voice went lower, and you found yourself bobbing your head along to the beat. It was over just as soon as it started and you watched as he practically danced off stage to approach you again.

“How’s that for entertainment?” He asked as Shawn passed him a new drink.

“Not what I was expecting,” You say shortly. “But not disappointing.” He smiles at you.

“Well doll, stick around.” Then, quickly to Shawn. “Her drinks on the house, Shawn.” He begins to exit, waving his cane around a bit in your direction. “Because I swear this, you won’t regret it.”

You didn’t spend much more time at the bar, opting to go back to your room and admire the view you’d been given. Or, at least, attempt to. The sun was already down, and you couldn’t see much, so instead you looked around the room. There were a few little knick-knacks here and there, including a small little figurine in a glass jar. Pretty.

Sleep, your body tells you. Sleep. And so, you change into your sleep shorts, and slide into the big, comfortable bed. $200 for a couple of nights. What a steal.