#phantom of the opera reader insert

[nerdyfangirl67]

13. "Just rest, I’m here.” with Miss Christine Daae pretty please?

Pairing: Christine Daae x GN!reader

A/N: I don’t usually write Christine Daae x reader, so I hope this works for you. I wrote it with the thought that the reader was Christine’s sibling but you can read it any way you want. This one is pretty versatile. Alright, I hope you enjoy this one anon! 😊

Christine scurries around you in the dressing room, her nervous energy manifesting into quick movements and panicked questions about where a certain hair pin was or what order the parts of her costume needed to be put on in.

“Christine, relax. You will do stupendously in the show, as you always do.” You say, her steps slowing upon hearing your words.

“But what if I don’t? Et si je rate l'ange de la musique (What if I fail the angel of music)?” She asks, spinning around to face you. Her doe-like eyes are round with worry, her lip quivering just the slightest, meaning she was only moments away from breaking down.

“You won’t.” You say as you lead her to the embellished vanity. “Just rest, I’m here. Have no worry, you will perform beautifully and the angel of music will be more than pleased.” You say as you begin to pin her hair up in the ornate style in which she would wear it on stage.

Her reflection gives you a smile, which you return in earnest. She reaches back towards you, giving your arm a small squeeze as she says, “Merci, tu es toujours là quand j'ai besoin de toi (Thank you, you are always there when I need you).”

[nerdyfangirl67]

hihihi!! I feel like I’ve sent this before but bad memory got me forgetting so apologies in advance!! would it be alright if I request a phantom/Erik with a gender neutral!reader where they are really close friends? Like they’re affectionate n stuff with him and while he acts like he’s annoyed with them, he actually really cares for them back? Kinda like silly friend and stern friend type deal if that makes sense?? sorry if it doesn’t you can totally skip this if it does!! <:]

Pairing: Erik Destler/Phantom x gender neutral!reader

A/N: Thank you so much for the request darling! This one was a lot of fun to write! I hope you enjoy it ☺️

The two of you had been friends for years, ever since you’d come to the Opera Populaire to study music.

He found your skill and drive impressive and had offered to help you develop an even wider skill set.

Since then, you often spend your free time with him, soaking up any musical knowledge he might give you or simply enjoying your time with him.

You, in turn, made it your mission to make him smile, make him laugh, make him enjoy life beyond his music.

This often led to you doing silly things, like wild impressions of the lead sopranos (who you felt were rather stuck up), ridiculous jokes and puns, or funny stories of your past.

You often thought that your antics annoyed Erik far more than they made him laugh.

Oftentimes he would regard you with a quirked up eyebrow, a simple shake of his head, or, if you were being particularly ridiculous, an exasperated “J'en peux plus (I can’t take any more)”.

Despite his annoyance with you, you always knew he cared for you, never letting a day go without him showing you some small sign of affection, or what he passed as affection. As awkward as his attempts at friendly affection where, you still knew he care.

Yet, there had been times when you’d gotten a wry small or a bark of a laugh because of your antics. Those moments, when he let go of that dark exterior and saw the light, those were what kept you going.

Because you’d live every day looking like a fool if it meant that he could find something to smile at, to laugh about.

After all, isn’t that what friends are for?

Tagging: @fae-sedai @calviern  @bluemasque86 @brwnicons @fantrashtic-emily @drakelover78

[nerdyfangirl67]

I don't know if you do scenarios but if you do may I have one where Erik's female s/o gets flirted with by a guy in front of him and Erik gets jealous while his s/o is oblivious that she's being flirted with and ends up having to calm Erik down once she either realizes or is told? (If you don't want to I understand its kinda alot but if you do thank you!)

Here you go darling anon (I hope you see this)! I am so sorry it took so long! I hope this is what you were looking for and I hope you enjoy it!

Pairing: Erik Destler (Phantom) x fem!reader

You felt him press up behind you, a hand coming to rest possessively on your hip.

His touch, as public and dominating as it was, makes you blush.

Not only had he stepped out of the shadows, revealing himself to the small group of people in which you were standing, but he had just shown, just told, everyone in front of you that you were ‘his’.

You try to ignore his hand on your hip as you continue to talk with the orchestra conductor about one of the pieces for the upcoming opera. The score for the opera had been written by Erik and you, over the course of the past year, had fallen into the position of being his spokesperson. The musicians performing his compositions found it easier, less frightening in all reality, to talk to you, rather than the infamous ‘Phantom’.

“Mademoiselle, if you feel that is the best solution, we shall try it.” The conductor says, his tone portraying the doubt he felt.

Erik speaks before you could, his voice dark and rough. “The madame has already told you that it was. You shall not question her, is that understood?” He doesn’t allow for the man to say anything else as he twines your hand in his and leads you away.

His steps, long and heavy, have you rushing to keep up.

“Amour, is something the matter?” You ask hesitantly.

He does not respond for a few moments before whirling around to face you, his cape dramatically flying out behind him.

“That insolent man was enamored with you and trying to gain your affections.” His face, the uncovered part you could see, is twisted in frustration.

Your brow wrinkles in confusion. “Monsieur Bonheur?” Erik gives a tight nod of his head. “Erik, mon amour, he was discussing an issue he had encountered with a section of the music and wanted to hear my opinion.”

He continues to glare at you, making his disbelief of your words evident.

You step closer to him, reaching up a hand to cup the part of his face hidden behind his mask.

“Erik, it does not matter to me because he does not matter.” You pause, making sure you have his attention before continuing. “Only you matter to me. You are the only man who I notice, whose affection I see.” You bring your lips to him, giving him a gentle kiss.

“Now I remember a certain someone promised he would share his newest work with his biggest admirer.” You say, a cheeky grin on your face as you pull him through the tunnels towards the large cavern the two of you called home.

[nerdyfangirl67]

Dark Until I Met You - Phantom of the Opera Reader Insert

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.

You had lived in darkness almost your whole life, both physically and figuratively. Having lost your eyesight at the young age of six due to an infection, and subsequent fever, you had grown accustomed to living your life without one of the senses you had, at one point, depended on most. Being a woman, and blind, in Paris during the late 1800’s meant that you were on the fringes of society. Because of this, you spent much, if not all, of your time alone. During the past few years, the weight of that loneliness had settled over you like a heavy cloud. That darkness proceeded to drain out any beauty in your life, leaving you in a world that had no color to speak of.

It wasn’t until you met him, the infamous Phantom of the Opera, that you experienced a change. It wasn’t something that happened overnight, this change in your life, rather it happened over the weeks following that first interaction you had had with the Phantom. Regardless of how quickly it happened, his presence in your life brought you out of that darkness and into the light. 

---

You walk slowly down the hall, your hand feeling along the wall as you go. Your mind is preoccupied with the new piece you had been composing for one of the upcoming operas when suddenly, you bump right into a hard and oddly warm object.

You realize hands are not resting on a lifeless object in front of you, but rather, a solid chest. You can feel a faint thumping underneath the palm of your right hand. “Ma chérie, tu dois regarder où tu vas (My dearest, you must watch where you are going).” A deep, almost musical voice says. His French is flawless, sounding almost as if it is dancing away from his lips, a rhythmic pattern to the tone he uses. 

“Oh, pardonne-moi (Oh, pardon me).” You say, feeling quite embarrassed that you had just run into this stranger with a mellifluous voice. 

“Is it the music that occupies your mind?” His seamless switch from French to English, as well as a question that he seems to already have an answer to, leaves you reeling as you try to keep up.

“W-W-Why would you ask me that?” You stammer out the question, not thinking about how forward your question may come across.

“I can sense it, the music running through you.” He says and you can feel him get closer to you. “I have seen you play, ange de la musique (angel of music), and I know it courses through you, consumes you, just as it does me.” His voice is raspy as it drops in volume. You can feel his warm breath fanning across your face, causing your heart to flutter. All you can do is nod, his astute observation leaving you speechless.

“Come with me, ma chérie (my dearest), and I will help you bring the music to life.” He said cryptically and something in you has you nodding your head before you can even think about it. 

You lift your hand from where it was still resting against his chest, trailing it down his shoulder to the crook of his arm. “Mène le chemin mon fantôme (Lead the way my phantom).”

---

You are pulled out of your memory of the past when a heavy hand comes to rest on your shoulder.

“Ma chérie?” He questions quietly, his hand slowly moving from your shoulder to your face. His large hand cups your cheek and his thumb, warm and rough, moves back and forth over your cheekbone. You hum softly in response, getting lost in the feeling of his hand on your face. He doesn’t say anything more as he brings another hand to your face, this one catching a strand of hair and rubbing it delicately between his fingers.

“Play with me?” You finally say, tracing a hand up his arm and using it to balance as you stand. He tucks your hand into the bend of his arm as he leads you over to the organ. Shortly after you had come to his domain, he had taught you to play the organ, seemingly his instrument of choice. The two of you often spent hours in the evening, playing together. Sometimes it was compositions solely of his making, other times they were pieces you had made, but most of the time, the two of you played something new entirely. Your notes flowed together, creating an intricate weaving of music, so elaborate you couldn’t tell where your ideas ended and his began. 

He helps you get set on the right side of the organ, or what had become your ‘side’, before taking a seat himself. “What would you like to play, ma chérie?” He questions, waiting for your response to place his fingers on the keys. You don’t answer, instead, giving him a soft smile before allowing your fingers to fly across the keys. He quickly follows suit, allowing you to lead with the melody you were creating. 

You knew that the man you had come to love wasn’t perfect. He, like you, had his own darkness, darkness that he hid behind the beautiful compositions he created. You knew he harbored deep loathing, and even self-loathing, but that only made you love him more. You chose to drive out the darkness in him, just as he chased away the blackness weighing down on you.

[nerdyfangirl67]

May I please request Erik hugging headcanons and how he would react to a hug? (I just feel like he needs a hug) Thank you and have a great day!

I am so sorry this has taken me so long to write! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it! Thank you so much for the request!!

P.S. - I have a load of POTO requests coming so stay tuned for those and for my next follower celebration (which is coming soon), I have a Morgan (CM) x reader fic in the works.

More Than You Know

You hurry down the damp, cold underground tunnels, the excitement of seeing Erik and telling him the news causing speeding you up even further until you were almost running down the tunnels.

You finally reach the large, lowly lit cavernous room that Erik called his own. A quiet melody greets you as quickly make your way up the few, uneven stone steps. 

He is hunched over the organ, his velvety black cloak flowing out behind him and his hands flying across the ivory keys.

You are so excited that you squeal out “Erik” before wrapping your arms around his neck and shoulders. You press your face into his back, a wide smile growing on your face. 

In your exhilaration, you had forgotten about how Erik disliked having someone else in his ‘personal space’. You could feel how tense he was, his shoulders tight with tension, his fingers frozen in place on the keys. 

You take a quick step back, letting go of Erik as you did. “Je suis désolé mon ange (I am sorry my angel).” You move away from him, giving him as much space as he needed to feel comfortable. 

He slowly turns around and you expect to see his dark eyes filled with anger, but instead, they softly glisten in the candlelight, tears beginning to collect on his bottom lashes.

“Erik?” You ask softly, worried you had done far more harm than good with that hug. You reach out a tentative hand, unsure of how to help.

He slowly grabs your hand, wrapping a hesitant arm around your waist and another around your shoulder. You wrap your arms around him in response, unable to stop the smile that was spreading across your face. Erik never was one to initiate physical contact so this was a pleasant surprise.

He steps in closer, leaning in to whisper, “Je vous remercie (thank you). It means more than you know.”

[nerdyfangirl67]

When You Are Hurting - Phantom of the Opera Reader Insert

Pairing: Erik (Phantom) x fem!reader

Warnings: hurt/comfort, I also made Madame Giry a bit of a b*tch in this one (sorry)

Word count: 771 (a short one, sorry y’all)

Requested by: @ofserien​

“hi love! ❤️ i was wondering if i could request an erik x reader? just a hurt/comfort with some soft Erik, maybe set in poto?? maybe one where the reader is having a tough day?? please take your time!!! i know you’ve got a busy schedule :)”

A/N: Hey y’all! FINALLY, something for you guys to read! I have a few more POTO one-shots/headcanons on the horizon, as well as my upcoming follower milestone fic (Derek Morgan x reader). I hope y’all enjoy it!! (I know I have him playing the organ, but I liked this GIF for this one) I put the translations of the French in parantheses.

You stare at the rough wooden planks beneath your feet, trying to blink back the tears before it became evident that you were crying. You dig your fingernails into the palms of your hands, looking for something, anything to distract you from Madame Giry’s harsh voice in your ears.

“How can you call yourself a dancer? Le déshonneur (disgrâce)!" She waves her hand wildly, her long braid swinging around over her shoulder as she comes to a stop in front of you. You lower your eyes, not wanting her to see your tears and deem you weak or vulnerable.  

“This is an esteemed opera house and your épouvantable (terrible, appalling) dancing is distracting from the singing of the leading soprano. Go practice your steps.” She spits out at you before turning and striding away. “Je ne sais pas ce qu'Erik voit dans cette fille (I do not know what Erik sees in that girl).” You can hear her mutter as she walks away, the words she did not speak to you hurting more than the ones she had.

You furiously wipe away the tears from your face as you move back towards the open area of the back stage, intent on practicing until your feet bleed, if only to keep Madame Giry from ever talking to you like that again. You pull off your wool cardigan, revealing the thin costume you were required to wear in the upcoming opera, and retie your pointe shoes. After a few stretches, you play the music in your mind, letting the steps of the dance take over your body. You dance long past the time the other dancers leave to return to their rooms, long past the time the maids come through and clean. You would have kept dancing had a dark figure not stepped away from the shadows.

“Ma chérie, it is time for you to rest.” His deep voice pulls you from your mind, causing your steps to falter before stopping. “You have been dancing for hours.” A hand comes to rest gently on your shoulder causing a small shiver to run down your spine. He slowly turns you around, using a hand to lift your face to his. You stare into his dark eyes, the faint light bouncing off the sheer white of his mask making his eyes appear softer than normal as you lean into his hand.

You do not see him untie his cloak, but you feel him slip it over your shoulders. “Come along, ma chérie (my dearest). You need rest.” He wraps an arm around your waist, leading you to one of many hidden doors to the catacombs beneath the opera house. His arm stays around you the entire walk back to his cavern of a room, only moving to help you onto the red velvet covered chaise lounge. You wrap his cloak around you tighter, watching as he moved to the organ, only a few steps away.

His eyes meet yours, the darkness in their depths melting away as he gives you a soft smile. He does not say anything, his eyes saying more than his words ever could. The devotion, the affection, the love he felt for you shone through, comforting you. Despite the harsh words of Madame Giry, you knew he saw something in you that no one else did, that something that you kept hidden from everyone else because it was the purest form of who you were.

His music filters through your thoughts, bringing you back to the present. He had chosen the one composition that you never tired of, the one that reminded you of the gentleness and loving nature that you knew he possessed, that he showed no one else. You slowly stand, closing the distance between the two of you as you sit down next to him.

He continues to play, not turning to look at you as his hands fly across the keys. You lean your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes and letting the music wash over you. You are unsure of how long he plays for, but you are almost asleep on his shoulder when he stops.

“Her words are outrageant (insulting) Y/N.” His voice is soft, making you blink open your eyes and look at him. “There is no end to what I see in you.” His words bring a warmth to your heart as you place a soft hand on his forearm.

“Thank you Erik. Your words mean more that you know.” You whisper, stretching up to press a kiss to his cheek before you lean back against his shoulder and listen as he plays.

[nerdyfangirl67]

Here is my headcanon for Christine x BFF!reader (platonic) for the anon that asked about it. I hope you enjoy it darling!

Pairing: Christine x BFF!reader (platonic)

Since the first day you had met Christine all those years ago, in the large theater of the Opera Populaire, the two of you had been close friends.

You, unlike Christine, hadn’t come to the famed opera house to deepen your musical skill. You had come to the opera house in hopes of finding a job that offered room and board, at the very least.

Albeit a bit young to be on your own, you had been cleaning in various buildings around Paris for the past year. 

Regardless of the clear differences in your upbringings, the two of you had found that you had many things in common.

The two of you shared a passion for music, a dream for a prosperous future, and a shared admiration of the Angel of Music.

The years passed and Christine’s musical abilities flourished, bringing her into the limelight and into the adoring eye of the Vicomte de Chagny.

And you had long since left the Opera Populaire, finding a position that not only provided room and board, but a little money in pay as well, but returned frequently to see Christine.

Yet, despite the two of you having more obligations than you had in the past, neither you nor Christine ever missed your weekday strolls through the cobblestone streets, bakery fresh croissants in hand. You visited her many times at the Opera Populaire, enjoying any opportunity to revel her gift of music. 

After she finished rehearsing, she would flit down off the stage and settle into the seat next to yours. The two of you would talk for hours about anything and everything, conversation never running dry.

 You knew, that whatever life had to throw at the two of you, you would always be friends.

[nerdyfangirl67]

Hello! May I please request something with Erik and platonic!reader please? (Feminine or neutral pronouns) In which Erik gets to experience friendship stuff like someone being around him just because they wanted to, or giving without expecting anything in return? Our boi would be so soft for his bestest friend

First of all, thank you for the request! You are so right (!), Erik would be so soft for his best friend🥺😊 I hope it’s okay I’m writing this as a headcanon and I hope you like it!

Pairing: Erik x gn!reader (platonic)

You never expected to find a friend in the infamous Phantom of the Opera Populaire. In fact, you never expected to know him as more than a teacher. 

You had heard of his previous student, the celebrated soprano Christine Daaé, and how her skills had flourished after being taught by the mysterious figure hidden in the dark. 

When you had first met him, as intimidating, dark, and full of himself that he was, your only thoughts had been about improving your musical abilities.

After a mere week of knowing him, your focus had shifted from solely being on your music to trying to find some way to connect with him as more than a student.

After a month, he was more than just a teacher to you. He had become a friend. And you could tell that he hadn’t had many of those in his life.

So you went out of your way to make sure that you could be the kind of friend he deserved.

Outside of the music teaching, you made sure to spend time with him, even if that time was just the two of you sitting together at the organ as Erik (he had told you his name, his real one, after the first week the two of you had spent time together) scribbled notations on his compositions. 

You started leaving things behind after you left. It started with little notes, ones thanking him for the help, reminding him to look to the good in the day, or ones that simply said you were thinking of him. You eventually started leaving behind little melodies, ones you had created that combined your new compositions and your favorites of Erik’s. 

After trips outside of the opera house to the streets of Paris, you would stop in Erik’s cavern and set a flaky croissant or a small fruit on his writing-table to remind him you were thinking of him.

Erik always thanked you profusely after he found whatever it is you left behind or as the two of you would part ways after spending time together. He always said the same thing, “Thank you Y/N. I am not worthy of this friendship you have given me, but I appreciate it. I appreciate you.”

His gratitude always reminded you just how truly special this friendship was, to both you and him.