#cherik smut

[willows-escape]

Symbolic - 1990!Erik x Reader - Part 1

Pairing - Erik (1990! Charles Dance) x (Female) Reader

Summary - the topic of the mask was the last obstacle in your blossoming relationship, and you were desperate to cross the barrier and become fully intertwined with the man you loved and claimed he loved you too.

Warnings - erik’s deformity is a mix of the deformity we see erik have as a child in the 1990 version and the musical, phantom having a small breakdown, the ✨mask✨topic, poorly dealt with feelings, miscommunication, suggestive moments and reference to genitalia and arousal, descriptions of a gory facial disfigurement, intense self hatred, mentions of christine but she’s long gone in this

Word Count - 4,770

Notes - there will be a part 2 i gotchu i gotchu. should part 2 be smutty or also just suggestive? also i tried writing this in a victorian-esque tone but if you arent vibing with that let me know and i’ll switch it up for part 2. i just thought it would be a nice touch.

give me feedback !!! pleasee !!!!

01 (you're here!) / 02

The nearby sound of trickling water gracefully blended into the ambiance of your surroundings; the towering trees above you resembled a verdant canopy. The quilt beneath you protected your body from the prickly blades of grass and artificial soil, offering a comfortable spot to recline with your hair spread out beneath you, shimmering in the artificial light.

You laid supine, hands elevated above you to cradle a book you had recently begun reading. The words captivated your attention, submerging you in a realm of fantasy and euphoria. Reading was your preferred means of escaping reality, a release you frequently yearned for when the burdens of the world weighed on your shoulders. It all faded away when you became engrossed in the pages of a book.

Regrettably, you were not the only person who was aware of your coping mechanisms. The situation was quite an affair, so you wouldn’t delve too deeply into the small details, but the love of your life had at long last informed you of his reciprocal affection for you. It felt magical and otherworldly to hear that sweet confession escape his enthralling lips, his eyes penetrating into the depths of your soul as his hands tenderly grasped your waist. You had witnessed the words that you only ever seemed to hear in your dreams.

So what had left you so apprehensive?

Well, the man you spoke so highly about, Erik, did not seem to return those high opinions for you. There was a part of himself he laboured ceaselessly to conceal from you, a mask that symbolically and literally kept up a barrier between your world and his world to prevent them from intertwining. You’d exchanged tender sentiments, cried tears of anguish and passion the night you’d finally confessed. You clung to each other as if your lives depended on it and subjected each other to a night of basking in vulnerability and fragility as your secrets long harboured tumbled past your tongue before you could restrain them. The morning after was no less exquisite and that of a fairy tale romance, but the barrier remained.

That mask he wore, pale and icy to the touch, silently spoke of his distrust for you. The final puzzle piece that he adamantly refused to fit into place, even for the sake of your love. Oh, it was a cruel predicament indeed! All you desired was to behold the appearance of the man you held dear, but he swore by the highest heavens that his visage would send you fleeing, and that was the last outcome he desired. To some extent, you understood his apprehension, having heard him recount tales of how numerous individuals he had cared for and adored had reacted abhorrently upon the unveiling of his face. But how could he expect the two of you to spend the remainder of your lives together without even a glimpse of his unadorned skin?

You weren't expecting Prince Charming, and while you weren't entirely convinced by his claims of him having a face of nightmares, you did trust that he might not be conventionally attractive. After all, you had never seen him. Besides his gentlemanly actions and his physique that seemed as if it had been crafted by a divine being, you weren't going to assume that he was the most handsome man in the world. You would love him nonetheless. But no matter how greatly you persisted and promised him you wouldn’t leave despite what he looked like, he truly did not believe a word you said. And it hurt.

“A new book, dear?”

You glanced upward, granting the subject of your grovelling a tight lipped smile as you hastily flicked your attention back to the words on the page. No anger dwelled within you, just painful disappointment, and the ache in your heart made it hard to bare the sight of him. “Of course. It’s Jane Eyre.”

He hummed in acknowledgment, his walking cane planted firmly into the ground below. You internally winced as the silence rang loud in the air. You were not seeking to upset your lover, but also somehow desiring to communicate that you weren't entirely pleased at the moment. It appeared that the message had travelled clear, but the upset was unavoidable.

A moment more passed before he spoke, “I feel a chill coming on. Seems as though it’s about to rain, don’t you think? Come, let’s retreat inside before it starts to pour.”

You arched a suspicious eyebrow, fingers still tightly clasped around the novel you held. If the plastic animals scattered around that Erik had stolen from the props department said anything, everything in this quaint woodsy area was unquestionably fake. From the dirt to the grass to the trees, the animals and the sky. It went without saying there would be no rainfall. This meant he wanted to discuss things with you without the distraction of your nose being buried within the pages of a book. And you weren’t entirely sure how to feel about it.

“And why should I do that?” you questioned, paying him no eye contact as you pretended to continue to read.

“You wouldn’t want your clothing to get wet, would you? I won’t be visiting the laundry room of the opera house for another week, hence it would be wise to avoid sullying a valuable item of clothing,” he reasoned, knowing fully well that he’d drop whatever he was currently doing to run and fulfil any request you asked of him, never mind visiting the damn laundry room.

You parted your lips, ready to jestingly remark about how there would indeed be no rainfall. Yet, in that very moment, a peculiar sensation graced your senses. A solitary droplet of water descended upon your nose, its touch cold and trailing a path of dampness as it glided down your nasal bridge. A gasp escaped your lips as more droplets descended, their frequency increasing with each passing moment. In a hastened flurry, you stood upright, clasping your cherished book to your bosom. You abandoned the forgotten quilt as you sprinted through the doors adorned with stained glass, leading you back to Erik's modest dwelling. He followed closely, not far behind your hurried steps.

You’d have to speak to him about putting up a gazebo. To block out the sun, you’d tell him.

“Guess you were right,” you half-heartedly chuckled, absentmindedly tossing the book onto a table to the side of you.

You found yourself in Erik’s room of treasures, where he stored and cherished his most esteemed items, namely his collection of masks and his grand piano. The ambiance within was of a tranquil and serene nature, causing your anger to gradually dissipate. Yet, the sorrow and anguish still lingered within you.

"Forgive me, have I down something to displease you?" Erik questioned, his steps measured and deliberate as if he were trying not to startle you, akin to approaching a timid creature. With utmost gentleness, he lightly laid his hand upon your shoulder, allowing it to glide downward, tracing the contour of your arm.

"Erik…" you whispered, tearing your eyes away from him. Your heart faltered, your breath catching in your throat as his fingertips delicately brushed against your skin. A fire simmered in your core, your veins rushing with hot blood as the touch of his hand engulfed you, overwhelming your senses with a fervour. “I… do not wish to upset you.”

“The only upset you cause me is by not being honest with your feelings,” he replied, hand reaching up to gently trace the skin of your cheek. Your eyes felt weak, gently fluttering shut as you indulged yourself in his affections. “Please, tell me what is troubling you.”

You paused for a moment, allowing yourself to succumb to his touch for a little while longer. The words settled on the tip of your tongue, ready to escape you and take a leap of faith from your mouth to his waiting ears, but you’d already approached this subject with him before and did not wish to push him to frustration or sorrow.

“I just…” you paused, “One day, Erik, do you wish for us to be husband and wife?”

His eyes widened, mouth agape in shock at your blunt statement. He stammered in surprise, removing his hand from your cheek slowly. He drew in a deep breath before answering, “There is nothing I desire more than to be wedded to you. Where is this coming from? Are you feeling as though our relationship is moving too slow? I just didn’t want to frighten you by pushing for more. Why, I’ll marry you tomorrow-”

“Erik, Erik,” you laughed, hand coming up to cup his cheek with your own hand as he was doing to you seconds ago, “I didn’t mean it like that, though I’ll marry you the second you ask it of me. Maybe not tomorrow, however.”

“Ah,” his nerves tingled, goosebumps rising on his skin at the electricity of your touch. He cleared his throat before continuing, “While that is a great relief to me, may I ask as to why you asked that, if not for the reason I previously thought?”

Taking one last final pause, you readied yourself to confess your true want. “I know you’ve said no, and told me to not bring up the subject again… but my love, how can I marry somebody when I have yet to see their face?”

Erik pursed his lips, his eyes shifting down as he began fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves. You felt dreadful witnessing the unease that the inquiry evoked in him, understanding that it inevitably resurrected distressing memories he longed to forget. Nevertheless, no advancement could transpire between the two of you in your relationship until he allowed you to see his face. You refused to be bound to someone who concealed such an essential aspect of himself, even if you knew the intentions to be entirely pure.

“I can’t do that,” Erik shook his head, walking away from you and moving towards his basket of walking canes. He placed his current one back with the bunch, before busying himself with rearranging his mask collection. He didn’t want to stray too far from you, but also wanted you to drop the subject.

You quietly tip toed behind him, enveloping him in your arms as you wrapped them around his waist and placed your head on his broad shoulder. You audibly heard his breathing pause, feeling him shiver as he relished in your touch. But nevertheless, he pushed on with rearranging his collection, although he wasn’t moving side to side around the table as he was doing previously.

“But why?” you asked.

“You know why, my face is that of nightmares. And I’ve hurt too many by showing them what they believed they could handle. My expectations are realistic.”

“You could never hurt me!” You insisted, your emotions getting the best of you as you retreated from him. He hunched over slightly, hands resting upon the clear spot of table in front of him to steady himself. His head twitched to the side as he bit his bottom lip in thought.

“Dear, I know you think that I exaggerate when I speak of my face, but I can assure you that I do not lie out of simple insecurity. My own father hid me down here due to my appearance, that must speak volumes,” he sighed, coming up once again to stand straight. “Now please, do not ask again.”

“So when I inevitably return to wallowing in my own feelings and escaping to the woods for hours at a time again, will you tell me to not ask again when you approach the subject of my feelings once more?” you tried to reason, desperately wanting him to view the situation from your point of view.

He didn’t respond for a little while, evidently pondering your words that he knew deep down held some veracity. The matter of the mask was evidently causing you distress, and he couldn't fathom any solution that would alleviate your concerns. But alas, he simply couldn't bring himself to do so.

“I’m sorry, my answer’s no.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, shimmering with unspoken pain and longing. Your vision blurred as a single tear cascaded down your cheek, tracing a path of sorrow. Your body trembled with silent sobs, your shoulders shook as you struggled to hold back the flood of emotions that threatened to consume you. The ache in your heart grew stronger, as if each tear shed was a testament to the love and vulnerability you had offered, only to be met with rejection.

“My dear, please, don’t cry over me,” his arms swiftly enfolded you in an embrace, his own frame quivering with an inability to endure the sight of your tears. With a resolute tenderness, he pressed his chilled lips upon your forehead, bestowing a gentle kiss as he cradled your head against his chest. In a steady rhythm, he swayed, seeking to soothe your anguish and stifle the heart breaking sounds that escaped your lips.

“How can I not?” you wept, fingers shaking from how firmly you were clinging onto his white button up shirt. You were grabbing on to him so tight you feared your nails would pierce holes in the delicate fabric, but you couldn’t bring yourself to relinquish your grip no matter how much you internally fought with yourself. Nothing you were doing seemed to be venting your frustrations adequately, leaving you at a loss for how to cope. "My love, the very essence of my existence, the one who breathes life into me, steadfastly refuses to show me his face."

“You must understand- I feel for you exactly as you describe your feelings for me, if not tenfold. That’s why I can’t show you. I’m protecting you just as much I want to protect myself,” he confessed, eyes squeezing shut as his swaying slowed to a stop. His grip was becoming tighter and tighter.

“I know life has dealt you an unfair hand, Erik, I’ve heard your cries and witnessed your heartbreak. I was there for you all throughout Christine, I was there to see your regret and misery as she left you behind. I did not leave your side for a second. I know the great despair and trauma her reaction to your face cast upon you, but please believe not a hair on my head resembles Christine. I will not hurt you the same.”

Erik held you a little longer, his embrace becoming even more so impossibly tighter. He wasn’t urgent to reply, instead allowing himself to bask in your love for as long as he could manage. Your sweet love was an addiction, an ambrosia he craved every single waking hour. But even then you lived in his dreams, your angelic presence blessing him wherever he went or whatever state he was in.

“I love you, Erik,” you spoke, looking upwards towards him as he began to tilt his head to share your unwavering gaze.

“I love you too,” he said.

“So show me,” you whispered, eyes glistening with tears and lips downturned into a subtle frown.

You took one last look into his eyes, before pushing yourself forward and up. Your lips met in a fervent union, a culmination of the deepest desires and longings that had long been brewing between you both. It was a kiss imbued with a delicate tenderness and an irresistible urgency, your mouths moving in perfect harmony. Each brush of his lips sent electric waves coursing through your body, igniting a blazing fire within your soul. In that timeless moment, you and him surrendered yourselves completely, losing all sense of time and space. It was a kiss that spoke volumes, a silent pledge of profound love and unwavering devotion.

As you reluctantly broke the intimate connection, succumbing to the need for a breath of air, your gaze met his half-lidded eyes. His lips were swollen, and his tongue darted out to moisten his bottom lip as he inhaled deeply. A blush crept across your cheeks as you attempted to conceal the rapid beating of your heart, finally becoming aware of his hands that had gradually ventured downward, tenderly tracing the curves of your waist.

He silently took a moment to recover, savouring the lingering taste of your kiss. It was unlike any other you had shared before - no longer innocent and brief, but a passionate embrace that ignited a fire within you. As your lips met, it felt as if the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you in a moment of pure bliss. The intensity of your connection was palpable, like a match being scraped against a stone, creating small sparks that danced and flickered between your bodies. It was a kiss that left you both breathless, your hearts racing with newfound desire and a longing for more.

“If you really insist on seeing my face, come with me to your room. I do not wish to make you feel cornered, but if you are to faint I wish for you to not bring yourself harm.”

You nodded eagerly, your heart pounding with a mix of excitement and anticipation. The kiss you shared made every colour appear more vibrant and the air feel lighter, filling every fibre of your being with pure bliss. As you followed him, each step felt buoyant, as if you were walking on air.

It didn’t take long for you to reach your room. Erik was very against you two sharing a bedroom, stating that he did not wish to make you uncomfortable or feel trapped next to him, when the reality couldn’t be farther from that. But you feared that he might’ve just been projecting, that he was the one who felt uncomfortable and trapped with the idea of you two sharing a room, so you’d left the topic alone for another day. That day still hasn’t arrived.

Erik took a hold of your hand, gently pulling you in and shutting the door behind you. He shook slightly, so lightly that you almost thought your eyes were deceiving you. “Are you sure about this, y/n?”

“More sure than I’ve ever been about anything, besides how much I love you,” you giggled.

“I… will not keep you down here, if you decide you never want to see me again. I’ve learnt my lessons, do not fear you reaching the same fate Christine did when she reacted negatively.”

You wanted to protest his words, state that you feeling negatively towards him was inconceivable and never going to happen. You also wanted to tell him to stop mentioning Christine, just the utterance of her name made you scowl. But you didn’t want to argue at a time like this, so you just nodded your head.

“Before I take this awful thing off… that kiss was everything I’ve ever wanted and more. If after this you no longer love me, please know that your display of love made me feel like a normal, living man, and that I’m doing this because I know I can die happy after the fact, if you were to leave.”

“I’m honoured to be able to make you feel that way, my love.”

He hesitantly extended his hand towards the strings that secured his mask to his head, skillfully undoing the knot he had carefully tied. As he prepared to remove the mask, he couldn't help but steal a final wistful glance at you, savoring the moment before gradually peeling it away from his skin, gripping the edges tightly with his other hand. The air seemed to hold its breath as the mask revealed the vulnerable visage beneath, unveiling a hidden side that had long been concealed.

His face was a grotesque sight, something that defied accurate description. The skin was cruelly stripped away, revealing the raw and twisted muscles beneath. It was a horrifying visage, and it made your heart ache. He was deformed, disfigured; the only parts of his face that were covered in flesh were swollen and bright red, contrasting the pale whiteness of his bone. You tried your best to swallow the gasp that was pushing past your throat, but you were human.

You were sure you could hear the sound of his heart shattering, but you were so shocked you could only watch as he crumbled to his knees before you. His screams and cries made you nauseous, his repeated wails of, ‘why!? why!? why!?’ as he grabbed onto the hem of your skirt, hiding his face in the fabric in his suffering. You snapped back into reality, falling to your knees in front of him.

“Erik, no, please-”

“Go, please. Leave me.”

“No, please, hear me out. I don’t hate you-”

“This is hardly a face you’d want to marry!” he protested, burying his face deeper into the fabric of your skirt, resisting as you tried to pull it away. “You may not hate me, but you’re scared! Is this the face of a man you could wake up next to, spend the rest of your love with, make love to at night before we sleep? Please just go!”

“No!” you cried, relenting on your attempts to tear his desperate self away from your skirt. You wrapped your arms around him, this time cradling him against your bosom as you rocked back and forth. You felt the tension slowly dissipate from his form. “I do not hate you and I am not scared of you! I want to do all those things with you, Erik, please I swear!”

His quiet sobs continued to echo through the air, his scared body shaking erratically. With utmost tenderness, you cradled his quivering form in your arms, holding him close and providing a safe haven for his shattered heart. Gently, you brushed your fingers through his hair, whispering words of love and reassurance into his ear. Your touch and soothing voice offered him comfort and solace, doing your best to remind him that your love extended far beyond mere physical appearances.

In that moment, as he sought refuge in your embrace, you felt an overwhelming surge of love and compassion for this broken man before you. Despite the mask he wore, both symbolically and literally, you saw the depth of his pain and the vulnerability he rarely allowed others to witness. Your heart ached for him, yearning to heal the wounds that had haunted him for far too long.

"You are more than your face, Erik," you whispered softly, your voice filled with unwavering affection. "Your heart, your soul, and the love we share transcends any physical imperfections. I love you for who you are, please believe that."

As his sobs gradually subsided, he looked up at you with tear-filled eyes, searching for a glimmer of hope and acceptance. In that moment, you saw a spark of belief flicker within him, a tiny beacon of light amidst the darkness that had consumed him for so long.

"I… I want to believe you," he choked out, his voice trembling with both fear and longing. "But all my life people have only said different. How can they when I don’t have a face, and only the resemblance of a face?”

You held his face gently in your hands, your touch conveying a tenderness that words alone could not express. "I understand. I’m sorry for reacting like that, please forgive me. I love you regardless of your face, it was just unlike anything I’d ever seen before. That’s all. I feel no differently for you than how I felt before you removed the mask.”

He hesitantly inclined towards your touch, his eyes seeking yours for reassurance and acquiescence. He quivered as a vehement cry escaped his lips once more, bedewing your bodice in his tears. Yet, you cared not the slightest, more preoccupied with consoling the poor man trembling before you.

You both sat together on the floor of your bedroom for an indeterminate span of time, but to you it felt like hours. You cradled him like a mother would her infant, tenderly caressing and comforting him with gentle touches and whispered reassurances. You hadn’t seen Erik shed tears since the evening of your confession, and you could only surmise that all the trepidation and unease had finally reached a breaking point and crumbled along with his composure. It deeply saddened you to know the man you loved so intensely hated himself and had been hated so harshly by those around him. You vowed to never cause him pain like everybody else had as long as you both lived.

Eventually, he withdrew from you, gracefully settling on his knees, his hands still shielding his face from your view, protecting his vulnerability. He wiped away the glistening tears that adorned his cheeks, his other hand instinctively seeking to conceal himself from your gaze. A pensive frown graced your mouth as you hesitantly reached upward, your fingers yearning to grasp his trembling hands, only to recoil as he instinctively recoiled in response to your advance.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ve seen it all now, haven’t I?” you hushed, hands dropping from his hands but instead reaching up to smooth back his hair with your fingers.

He sniffled quietly, “Forgive me, I did not intend on frightening you. I am simply unused to showing my bare face around others, it’s unfamiliar.”

“Of course, I understand, love,” you smiled, gently trailing your hand down the side of his face. Goosebumps littered his skin like a trail.

You moved closer to him, your heart racing with anticipation. You kept one hand on his face, basking in the warmth of his skin that didn't have any disfigurement. Your other hand gently draped over his shoulder as you approached, your fingers delicately tracing the contours of his back. He quivered beneath your touch, his legs extending out from under him to create a space for you to come impossibly closer. As you lowered yourself onto his lap, a surge of electricity coursed through your veins. His breath, warm and intoxicating, caressed your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His hands trembled with uncertainty, itching to remove themselves from his face to come down and touch you instead. You chuckled.

“You can hold me.”

His breath caught in his throat, his mind filled with a whirlwind of desires as he absorbed the words that flowed from your enchanting lips. You couldn't help but chuckle softly, savouring the profound effect you had on the man beneath you.

“I’d like to put on my mask, dear,” Erik finally spoke, “As much as I love having you so close, I’m not ready to show myself to you so unashamedly yet.”

With a nod of your head, you stepped back, allowing him the space he needed to shroud his face from view. Though you comprehended the internal struggle he faced after years of hiding, a bittersweet pang of sadness tugged at the depths of your heart. The poignant reality that he still felt the need to shield himself wounded you deeply. But you tried to keep reminding yourself that it wasn’t personal.

He swiftly and efficiently retied the strings, maintaining his determination, as he stood up following you. You leaned in and planted a brief but meaningful kiss on his lips, savoring the moment before reluctantly breaking away. With a mix of emotions swirling inside, you diverted your attention, attempting to shift your focus away from the recent event that had transpired.

“I’ll be out dusting the statues, you haven’t kept up with them in a while and I’d noticed them on the way in and I think they could really use a clean. I’ll speak to you later.” You quickly retreated from the room without even sparing a second glance.

Erik stood there, mouth agape, unable to comprehend the suddenness of your departure. His mind was flooded with a multitude of questions, doubts, and confusion, hindering his ability to think clearly. As he glanced around the room, an overwhelming sense of awe washed over him, as he tried to process the intensity of the moment and the speed at which you had vanished from his presence. Meanwhile, his body felt an uncomfortable strain, as his arousal pressed insistently against the constricting fabric of his trousers, adding yet another layer of complexity to his already tumultuous thoughts.

You were no less aroused, the tingling sensation in your nether regions proving that you had been mutually affected by your lover. Oh lord, this was going to cause problems.

[dick-helmet-magneto]

Erik: I...may be having a panic attack. Charles: And you're calm about that?! Erik: Don't panic. I'm the one panicking. Charles: Lot of fucking good it does saying not to panic. go look in a mirror and repeat that!

[eatommo]

Mindless [e.l./c.x./j."l".h.]{kd26}

group sex/seduction

CW: minor professor kink, dubcon due to readers mutation, mmf, female orgasm, implied group sex, the reader is essentially a succubus so tread lightly.

a/n: I am so far behind on this but some huge changes are happening in my life, hopefully for the better. I will get the rest of the prompts pumped out but please be patient <3, my cherik heart had to put them somewhere so.

Logan might have had the temper of a bear, but you and Erik were being too damn loud.  He had been laying on his bed ignoring the thrash of the headboard against the shared wall rhythmically until he heard a moan.  

“You’re fucking kidding me.” He grumbles to himself, half tempted to barge into the room and embarrass the two of you so you’d at least go to Erik’s room and keep Charles up all night. As if on queue, he hears a familiar British voice in his head, “Don’t be so bitter, join us.”

 His blood runs cold then turns white hot, “Stay out of my head Charles.”  Isn’t this suppose to be a school? What is happening?

“It used to be a school, there’s no one here. Loosen up.” His voice echos through the wall this time, angry Logan wasn’t as fun as flustered Logan, and even the professor knew that.  

You giggled out a laugh, “It can be a school if you want, Charles likes being called professor in bed don’t you?” 

Logan considered letting the bones the jutted from his knuckles pierce his skull so he might have a moment of peace, but as his eyes fell shut you appeared in front of him.  Well, on top of him. 

The projection was weightless, but you stradled his lap.  The expanse of your skin calling to his rough hands.  He knew what you were, a master of seduction by genetic design, every bit of your body called to him.  It felt like if he didn’t get his hands on you, air would cease to fill his lungs, his heart would implode, his mouth ran dry.  

“This isn’t fair.”  His face turned red as he struggled to breathe.  His hands passing through the image of your hips in his brain and settling onto his own thighs. 

“Poor baby, I know its so hard feeling so lonely, let us help.”  Even as you weightlessly shifted across his lap, each word felt like a fire stroking his skin.  “We can be gentle.”  The hairs on the back of his neck stood on edge, like you were dripping ice water down his back, “Or if something more rugged suits you.” 

He’s about to give some half-willed retort when your demeanor shifts, and your body buckles in on itself as you moan “Fuck.” and promptly orgasm.  Your voice echos through the wall as well as into his brain, like some sick illusion, your breathless voice hoarse with pleasure as your body quivers on top of him.  It’s not enough, and he’s made up his mind. 

[itsdynotdaddy]

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier, Erik Lehnsherr & Charles Xavier, Raven | Mystique & Charles Xavier, Emma Frost & Erik Lehnsherr, Emma Frost/Erik Lehnsherr Characters: Charles Xavier, Erik Lehnsherr, Raven | Mystique, Emma Frost Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Porn with Feelings, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Smut, Shameless Smut, Public Sex, Public Blow Jobs, Foot Jobs, In Public, Oral Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Awkward Boners, Charles Xavier Needs a Hug, or sex he needs both, yes they really doing it under the cafeteria table, before you come at me erik not really dating emma, Smitten Erik Lehnsherr, erik uses too much pet names, frat party, everyone is drunk, no beta reader we die like raven in dark phoenix Summary:

Charles knows damn well that he is nothing more than just a friend to Erik. He knows his place. He can't cross the line unless he wants to ruin everything.

So he has decided to live only in his fantasies until somehow one of them becomes true.

Maybe it is his lucky day?

But also, could it be possible if Erik has actually been sharing the same feelings as him all this time?

[a-teeny-tiny-peen]

hey girls, gays, & theys. finally published a fem!cherik fic i’ve been sitting on for a while. not nearly enough genderbent cherik out there, so i’m doing my part 🫡🫡🫡

Read it Here

Its basically 7k words of just PWOP but it’s also pretty fluffy. oh and there was only one bed 👀👀👀

please like and comment if you’d like to see more

happy reading :-)

[justalittebitoffandom]

I swear I have no shame irl but I'm so scared to start a conversation about fanfiction with you guys

[citrus-wall-paint]

this is my last desperate cry for help to find a Cherik rp partner 😭 i can play either, do whatever prompts or aus - as long as it’s preferably based on the prequel versions of them (mcavoy + fassbender)

this fandom is so dead and i am suffering greatly

[dandan-thegayman]

OKAY OKAY CHERIK FIC/ ONESHOTS IDEA!!

inspired off "Its Been A Long, Long Time" by Harry James

---

IDEA 1: fluff

okay so erik is like this army guy right? he and charles met and fell in love before he got drafted and basically the main piece is written as if you are given the notes he and charles wrote to eachother during the time period erik was serving. super sweet at sappy

IDEA 2: fluff (+ maybe smut)

basically, first part is erik coming home and they have a whole steve and peggy moment, listening to "Its Been A Long, Long Time" by Harry James. maybe they do stuff (b/c of that one implied sexual part in the song).

IDEA 3: angst

either format from IDEA 1 or 2 but maybe after a while of not getting any letters from erik, charles gets worried and he gets a visit from an officer telling him the bad news.

[queerolddad]

Here I deliver my second Phantom fic — a 10K pwp Operatic Polycule one-shot featuring Daddy Dom Erik, Mommy Dom Christine and Puppy Raoul because…well. I can do what I want 🥸

[poormeowmeowcollector]

No One Will Hurt You Again

Relationship: Charles Xavier/Erik Lehnsherr

Warnings: implied smut, trauma, smoking, alcohol, antisemitism, language, canon typical violence

Summary: Charles finds a mutant wrecking havoc at Miami because he's thirsty for revenge. So, he adopts him. (X-Men: First Class retelling but with Maneskin lyrics)

Notes: part of Lu Creative Time Challenge, song of choice is Coraline by Maneskin. Regarding Loki and Two Kings And One Guard, I don't know when I will finish it and go back to writing Loki, but I will see what I can do.

read on AO3

After Erik's interrogation was done, the CIA agreed with Charles' wish to keep him on the mutant team with a ground total of 3 people. The director told them they'd stay in a motel for the night. Moira and the others still distrust Erik, so Charles offered to take a room with him, insisting that he can keep a close eye on him. He didn't lie, but he didn't clarify what eye he'd be keeping.

Italian: Coraline bella come il sole / Guerriera dal cuore zelante / Capelli come rose rosse / Preziosi quei fili di rame, amore, portali da me

English: Coraline beautiful like the sun / A warrior with a zealous heart / Hair like red roses / Those copper-like wires, love, give them to me

The cheap motel room (possibly to avoid suspicion) only has one king-sized bed and no couch or even armchair. Charles freezes, taking turns staring at the bed and at Erik.

“Should I ask if we can get another room? One with two beds?” he asks. He might know basically all about Erik, but that's not mutual, there's no guarantee he'll be comfortable sleeping with a stranger. Instead, Erik glares at him like the suggestion was the worst of insults.

“Why are you asking?” he growls, like he's expecting disgust but is still willing to fight it. Charles needs a second to decode why Erik would snap, and his eyes widen when he realizes.

“No, no, no issue with you. But, we don't know each other…” he trails off, trying to save something. Erik's stance relaxes slightly, the furious fire in his steel cold eyes toning down but not disappearing.

“One night won't kill us, and I trust you are not stupid enough to attempt anything,” he shrugs, kicking off his boots and claiming one side of the bed. Charles sits on the edge, focused on untying his shoes, peeling off his clothes until he's left with a shirt and pants, and hesitantly gets in the bed.

Of course, Erik just lies on his back, head turned away from Charles and to the door, his breathing slow and steady as he sleeps. Unaware that Charles can't take his eyes off him, his lean yet firm body, the soft curls of his auburn hair that the moonlight allows Charles to see.

Erik's not like Charles. He's not a telepath. How could he know? How could he know that he's not the only gay man in the motel room, that Charles's dreams that night were filled with that skilled body, that soft voice, that beautiful copper hair? And how could Charles tell him?

Charles is famished, so he just drags Erik to the closest restaurant and sits down. Erik doesn't even bat an eye, it's not the first time since they started recruiting, and he knows that Charles' telepathy is making him need more calories than a baseline human. And, to be honest, Charles is not the only one who requires a bit more to manifest his powers properly.

Italian: Se senti campane cantare / Vedrai Coraline che piange / Che prende il dolore degli altri / E poi lo porta dentro lei

English: if you hear bells singing / You'll see Coraline crying / Taking the pain of others / Carrying it inside of her

When they receive the menu, Charles smirks slightly at Erik's surprise.

“You will let me order for you,” Erik orders, his voice having that tone that's excluding no from the acceptable answers. Charles nods and watches Erik inspect the menu and then order what sounds like enough food for five people, not a single word familiar to Charles' ears.

“Please don't poison me,” Charles mumbles after the waiter leaves with the menus. Erik shakes his head, a playful smile on his lips as he takes off the leather jacket that has become an extension of his skin despite the heatwave.

“Why would I poison the only tolerable person on the planet?” he snorts and watches Charles laugh at the reaction. Then, they sit in silence, both enjoying Erik's ease with the place, like he finally found where he can breathe. Just because he happened to be dragged to a Jewish owned restaurant during Charles' crusade for food.

“Can I ask you something?” Charles hesitates, he doesn't want to spoil Erik's mood. It's the first time he sees him so unguarded, and it'd be a shame to ruin it. Erik shrugs, waiting. “How long has it been since you last ate what you ordered?” he watches carefully for a negative reaction, but it never comes.

Charles knows that Erik has stopped believing. It's something he found out when he searched his mind that night with the submarine. And, by his refusal to cook anything other than fried eggs and pasta, he knows that his cooking skills are barely existent. Yet, he asks.

“Oh, well…” Erik mutters, trying to remember. His memory is usually better than most, so that's not a good indicator. “Since I was… 8-ish? It was harder for my mother to find ingredients after we fled after Kristallnacht, and I never really learned how to cook on my own,” he doesn't sound upset, not really. But Charles knows that the low hum of his mind is the same grief as every time he mentions his mother, his life before Shaw or the camp.

Erik keeps that hum as private as he can, letting it slip only whenever he thinks Charles is asleep, well after midnight. And Charles knows how to identify that hum only because he searched Erik's mind. But Erik is now letting that hum play, in a public place. Charles doesn't see the angry man everyone sees right now, just someone deprived of comfort, and he's willing to deliver.

“Then, I am sure you'll enjoy them,” he smiles, his eyes gleaming when he notices Erik's smirk, the hum getting more quiet. They're quick to fall into a familiar trance, sharing a comfortable silence that's interrupted only by judging the bystanders.

All until the food arrives.

Erik likes to present himself as a cynical man, someone untouched by whatever happened to him and whatever happens to people around him. He's exceptionally good at this, so good that even he believes it to be true. But after that night in the dock in Miami, Charles knows that he's the exact opposite. If he hadn't been in his mind, he'd also believe what everyone else does, that Erik is cold and emotionless.

And if he did, watching him stay frozen at the sight of the full of food dishes would be completely unexpected. But he knows better.

“Erik?” he asks, his voice low as he tries to not startle him. Erik still tenses for a split second, the dull knife on his right turning towards Charles. He shakes his head, tries to speak, but stays with his mouth agape before forcing it shut. One hand goes to his face, tries to rub off something from his eyes, Charles needs time to realize he’s wiping tears.

“Pardon me…” Erik's voice is barely audible as he gets up and escapes to the bathroom. Everything inside Charles screams at him to follow, to make sure Erik's okay, not alone, anything. But he knows that Erik doesn't exactly welcome emotional support, that he'll just go elsewhere until he recomposes himself.

The food is cold when Erik returns, untouched, even though Charles' body begs for food. He still manages to eat most of the table, Erik nibbling from here and there between taunts at how nothing will disappear if Charles breathes between bites. But Erik's voice is deeper, tinted with that sadness the low hum indicates, and his mood won't lift until the next morning.

“You can read me whenever you feel like it, you're always welcome,” Erik says, still coming down from the high, pressing Charles' naked back against his bare chest. His voice is a murmur, easier to feel than to listen. Charles's head isn't in a better state, he doesn't question. And even if he did, Erik would be asleep before he could answer.

Italian: Però lei sa la verità / Non è per tutti andare avanti / Con il cuore che è diviso in due metà, / È freddo già. / È una bambina però sente come un peso / E prima o poi si spezzerà

English: But she knows the truth / Not everyone can carry on / With their heart split in two / And it's cold already / She's a child, but she feels a weight / And sooner or later she'll break

He still meant it. Never offended or scared as Charles brushes through his thoughts. They would stay silent together, their minds mixed into one, like colors during a sunrise. One would use the link instead of speaking, either for privacy or because he didn't dare break the silence.

And Charles loves Erik's mind. It shines among the others like a diamond among gravel, attracting his telepathy like the most powerful magnet. He doesn't know if it's part of Erik's mutation or just the way he is, but there's no complaint. There's a pleasant mix of everything in Erik's mind, like a busy but cozy room. A harmony of languages, memories, ideas, and emotions, all one intertwining with the other as if threads of a luxurious piece of fabric.

But Erik's mind is not always the best place to be.

Charles's telepathy can sense trauma, spot it with ease. In most minds, it's like a flood of memories and feelings, threatening to tear apart everything with the most simple tap. Erik's mind is unique even in that way. It's not a flood, never a flood. Not even when he is overwhelmed or upset. It's like a pipe with a small leak, drop after drop hitting his mind, the erosion slowly doing its work but never stopping.

Charles is welcome in Erik's mind, but Erik still has areas that are restricted, protected by walls, areas the erosion has affected. Charles doesn't mess with the walls, averts his attention whenever he gets close, and he knows that Erik avoids these places as well.

Only a few times they touched these areas, when Charles was keeping the link while they were both tired and drunk in their motel room. At that moment, the walls were thin, and Charles's presence in Erik's mind was the tap to break them down.

Within moments, both men were reduced to hyperventilating messes, clenching onto one another like their lives depend on it. They tried to soothe each other, Charles apologizing for messing with his mind and Erik insisting that it's just a memory, that he knows how to handle it, but it's something new for Charles. They'll need almost two hours and five packs of cigarettes to manage to calm down relatively, but sleep is long forgotten.

Charles is still invited in Erik's mind, but he knows to keep the walls at arm's length.

Charles is reading in the leisure area on the base, enjoying the few moments of privacy. Until Moira comes in.

Italian: E la gente dirà: "Non vale niente / Non riesce neanche a uscire da una misera porta" / Ma un giorno, una volta, lei ci riuscirà

English: And people will say: “she's worth nothing / She can't even walk out of one stupid door” / But one day, some day, she'll do it

“We need to talk about Erik,” she drags a chair right in front of Charles, stubbornly sitting in.

“If it's about the leftover incident, he said your food is, and I quote, so unseasoned she could be eating paper and never know unless she started farting confetti, so I doubt he'll steal from you again,” Charles tilts his head, book closed on his lap.

“He is a liability, he won't hesitate to go rogue upon seeing Shaw,” she informs Charles, her eyes scanning him. “And we don't know if he's in position to help,” she adds, hesitant. Charles needs just one glance in her mind to find what made her suddenly so unsure about Erik.

The CIA has files on everyone, Erik Included. She opened it, found out about Erik's history with Shaw.

“I assure you, Moira. Erik is dedicated to stopping Shaw, powerful enough to do so and in his right mind,” he smiles, trying to brush off her concern without using his power. She doesn't seem to listen.

“Charles, he was in a camp! He met Shaw there! You can't possibly think it's a good idea to have him involved,” she insists, more upset about the information she received than about the strategy. Charles pauses for a bit, tries to think of his next move.

“I hope that you understand that this means that Erik is the one insisting on this, not that he is not in the state to confront Shaw,” Charles leans forward, smiling as Moira's mouth is agape.

“You can't possibly trust him! He's…” she trails off, and everything clicks.

“I think, if you have any argument about Erik's presence, he should be present to listen to your criticism,” he points out, watching Moira's blood leave her face. “Unless, of course, you know he'll be angry at your ideas, and for a good reason,” he smirks as the woman stays speechless.

“Listen to me well, Moira. You could drop the Shaw case, and so could I. Erik will either kill Shaw or die trying. On this mission, he is the most rigid of us, the most likely to take this to the end. And, if your bigotry gets in our way, I'll have him informed, and I assure you, he has no mercy for people like you and I have no reason to put some on his head. So, either you keep those words to yourself and assist us in stopping Shaw, or we continue without you, and I leave you unprotected to Erik's will. Do we have an understanding?” he watches satisfied as Moira struggles to find words, as she glances at the door, waiting for Erik to storm in.

“He will die trying,” she whispers, her confidence gone. At this, Charles chuckles.

“It's more possible for the sun to rise from the West,” he knows very well that his smile as he forms the words isn't because he won the argument.

No one is up at that hour. Moira and the rest of the kids have long fallen asleep. But Charles still feels the buzz of a mind keeping him up. When he realizes that the mind will just not shut up, he takes matters into his own hands.

Italian: E ho detto a Coraline che può crescere / Prendere le sue cose e poi partire / Ma sente un mostro che la tiene in gabbia / Che le ricopre la strada di mine

English: And I tell Coraline she can grow up / Take her things and then leave / But she feels a monster caging her / And covering her path with mine

He doesn't need to wander around, but he does have to look up at the roof to spot Erik sitting on the roof tiles and gazing at the woods.

«I suppose you are not looking for company, right?» Charles asks, his eyes on Erik as he drifts his gaze from the horizon to the balcony, to Charles.

«This doesn't mean you should go,» he pushes the thought away, a faint smile barely visible in the dark. Charles smiles back, swiftly climbs up until he's sitting by Erik's side.

“I didn't have you for such a good climber,” Erik smirks, eyes back to the forest.

“I grew up here, Erik. I know how to go anywhere in this house. The question is, how did you get up here?” he asks back, his eyebrow raised instinctively as he watches Erik.

“You have your tricks, I have mine…” he sighs, his fingers tapping the metal ashtray he somehow managed to get up here. Charles takes a deep breath, hugs one leg without thinking about it.

“You know, I have been thinking…” he trails off, testing the waters. He knows Erik won't like it, but he can present it lightly.

“You do that quite often,” Erik hums, one hand holding Charles's, tracing lines. He looks calm, that's a good sign.

“Are you sure you need to take down Shaw? You don't owe it to anyone. I understand it's what you built your life on, and it's definitely within your abilities. But Shaw's death won't lessen your pain, won't bring you peace,” Charles is careful, scanning Erik. He doesn't tense, doesn't emit rage like whenever Moira tries to discourage him from continuing. He just stays silent, then slowly brings his cigarette to his lips for a long drag.

“Peace was never an option,” he turns around, his gaze locking with Charles's. “And even if it is, it's not available to me. It's not an option I can follow. This… it's all I know, Charles. All I am. Whatever light you say is in me, you brought back to the surface, it's just there to push me forward, to… help me form an idea of what I want to create,” Erik speaks about a time after Shaw for the first time. Charles didn't even know that he had a plan for after Shaw. He can't help but smile, despite the promise that Erik will kill Shaw.

“And… I want you to be part of it, Charles. That monster may have made our paths cross, but we can make something great out of it,” Erik cups Charles's hand, his eyes moving all around Charles's face. An alliance, a common goal beyond Shaw. A life with Erik.

How can Charles say no?

They don't know how long they've been on that roof, just enjoying the silence, but Charles can see the sun rising between the trees. He turns, watches as the morning light illustrates Erik, makes his hair slowly get back its reddening tint, his eyes claiming that odd color, not quite blue but not quite green. He's never been so glad that his telepathy gives him an incredible memory, that he'll never forget that image.

Italian: Sarò il fuoco ed il freddo / Riparo d'inverno / Sarò ciò che respiri / Capirò cosa hai dentro / E sarò l'acqua da bere / Il significato del bene / Sarò anche un soldato / O la luce di sera / E in cambio non chiedo niente / Soltanto un sorriso / Ogni tua piccola lacrima è oceano sopra al mio viso / E in cambio non chiedo niente / Solo un po' di tempo / Sarò vessillo, scudo / O la tua spada d'argento

English: I'll be your fire and your cold / Your winter shelter / I'll be what you breathe / I'll understand what you have inside you / I'll be the water you drink / The meaning of good / I'll even be a soldier / Or your light in the evening / And in return I ask for nothing / Just a smile / Every little tear of yours is an ocean to my face / And in return I ask nothing / Just a little time / I'll be your banner, your shield / Or your silver sword

“You know, you don't have to do it all alone. I am here for you,” Charles doesn't think before he speaks, holding his breath in case Erik doesn't take it lightly.

Maybe it's the warmth of the moment, or the sleeplessness, but Erik laughs. His shoulders are shaking, his feet closer to his chest as he wipes tears.

“I thought that this was already established,” he breathes out eventually, leaning back until he's laying on the roof. There's something in that glint behind his eyes, that toothy smile. Charles can't help but find himself just as relaxed.

“No, I mean… you can talk to me about things… you can… I won't be just an ally to your fight. I want to be more. Your… your support… your serenity. Erik, if you let me, I'll be anything you need,” he pierces Erik with his eyes, watching as he rubs his face, lazily stretches his legs.

“Can you be just Charles? That's all I'll ever ask you to be…” Erik manages to hide a yawn perfectly, but his sleepiness is loud to Charles's mind. Charles chuckles, offering a small nod as an answer.

“Sure, but can we get down before you fall asleep on the roof?” he playfully nudges Erik, who in return rolls his eyes.

“I'm not tired, you're tired. You just… throw your tiredness into my mind,” the half-baked claim is accompanied by a series of vague gestures on the space between Erik's and Charles's head. It just makes Charles laugh more.

“Whatever, say that when you start snoring,” Charles slowly moves to the edge, watching Erik follow.

He doesn't say a word, just carefully goes down to the balcony and drags Charles with him to their bedroom. Neither bother to change clothes, just to kick off their shoes and collapse on the bed. Charles feels his eyes heavier, maybe Erik wasn't wrong about him being tired as well.

“Charles?” Erik mumbles, face plastered in the pillow, but he doesn't care enough to turn around. Charles gives him a small hum, eyes closing. “You really mean it? You'll be there?” he asks, not alert enough to have that conversation.

“Of course, I love you,” Charles doesn't think before he answers, and doesn't care if Erik reacts negatively.

“Mmm, I love you too,” Erik's words are barely there, he falls asleep before he could see Charles smiling.

They had found comfort in sleeping side by side, on the same bed. Charles feels less lonely with Erik's warm (always warm, always buzzing with life, always beautiful) body at arm's reach and Erik feels safe with Charles's power protecting him, for the first time since he was a kid.

Italian: E Coraline piange / Coraline ha l'ansia / Coraline vuole il mare ma ha paura dell'acqua / E forse il mare è dentro di lei / E ogni parola è un'ascia / Un taglio sulla schiena / Come una zattera che naviga in un fiume in piena / E forse il fiume è dentro di lei, di leip

English: And Coraline cries / Coraline's anxious / Coraline wants the sea but is afraid of water / And maybe the water is inside her / And every words is an axe / A cut on the back / Like a raft sailing on a raging river / And maybe the river is inside her, inside her.

But Erik still can't sleep, can't even close his eyes.

Tomorrow's the day they'll fight Shaw, when he'll kill him or die trying. He feels the coin burning in his jacket's pocket, he doesn't know if it's his imagination or his powers.

Killing Shaw will not bring you peace, Charles had said to him some time ago. Charles, who's now sleeping by his side, blissfully unaware. But can Erik have peace? After everything he's seen, he's gone through, and he's done, is he worthy of peace. Does he even know how to live a peaceful life, when he barely remembers his life before the camp?

He knows very well that his mother wouldn't want to see him get drowned in violence, and he knows Charles expects more, knows that Erik is more. But no matter how hard Erik wants to be that more, he doesn't know how. He has no clue how to be something other than his anger, and then his guilt. He's trapped in the life of vengeance that he formed, a cage of his own creation.

He doesn't know when he started crying, he wasn't even aware of it until Charles is awake, his huge blue eyes filled with worry. “Erik? Come here, please,” Charles raises one hand, laid on his side. Without a second or even a first thought, Erik sinks into the embrace.

He doesn't like people watching him cry, or show any type of vulnerability. And he's sure that Charles has only seen him tear up, shed a tear or two. But tonight, he lets it all out. He lets himself sob, weep, dig his hands on Charles's bare skin as his body and the metal bed frame are shaking. Charles stays there, traces flowers on Erik's back, mutters sweet nonsense with his soft posh voice until Erik can breathe again.

Erik doesn't push Charles away, but Charles lies on his back, makes Erik put his head on his chest, feel the telepath's heartbeat as his feet from ankle down are hanging over the bed. He closes his eyes, focuses on the air going in and out.

“You know, you don't have to know how to live a peaceful life. You can learn and adapt. And I'm sure you'll do great,” Charles muses. Others would be offended by Charles's snooping around, but Erik knows it's his natural state, and he would never kick Charles out. He doesn't have the words, but he does his best to send a wave of gratitude to Charles. By his smile, Erik assumes it's a success.

Son? Son?!

Italian: Coraline, bella come il sole / Ha perso il frutto del suo ventre / Non ha conosciuto l'amore / Ma un padre che di padre ha niente / Le han detto in città c'è un castello / Con mura talmente potenti / Che se ci vai a vivere dentro / Non potrà colpirti più niente

English: Coraline beautiful like the sun / She lost the fruit of her womb / She never knew love / She has a father that's nothing like a father / They told her there's a castle in town / With such strong walls / That if you live in there / Nothing will hurt you again

The asshole had the audacity to call Erik his son?! After he killed his mother? After he experimented on him?

Erik feels his blood boiling with rage, every fiber of his being ready to kill Shaw. Charles, still in his mind, screams at Erik that he's better, that he doesn't have to.

Charles says he's been in Erik's mind, that he knows. He doesn't know shit.

Shaw is frozen in place, holding the helmet. A helmet against telepaths, against Charles.

A helmet that will keep Erik intact, that will never allow anyone else inside.

A helmet that will keep him safe from harm.

His hands are slow as he puts it on, as Charles fades with a scream. Now it's just him and Shaw, as Erik pushes the coin inside the fucker's skull.

It's all done. He took his revenge, he's free. And with his helmet, he's free from everyone.

Italian: Non potrà colpirti più niente

English: Nothing will hurt you again

~~~~~

Taglist: @lucywrites02 @electroma89 @wrenhyperfixates @rorybutnotgilmore @hybrid-in-progress @weirdfangirl2416 @darkacademicfrom2021 @nicoistrying @twhiddlestonsstuff @kozkalovesloki @thewindandthewolves @gaitwae @leucoratia

[willows-escape]

Symbolic - 1990!Erik x Reader - Part 2 (m)

Pairing - Erik (1990! Charles Dance) x (Female) Reader

Summary - the last hurdle in your relationship had finally been crossed and erik no longer felt the need to hide such a pivotal aspect of himself away from you anymore. but now all the barriers had fallen and the mask was removed, there was one last thing you craved. and erik, for some reason, was very against participating.

Warnings - erik having major moodswings, apologies and forgiveness, poor self esteem, possessiveness, accidental mask slip, erik panicking, sexual and innocent teasing, teeth rotting fluff, victorian purity culture and potentially misinformed discussions of christianity (oops), y/n knows what she wants and she wants it now, reader isn’t particularly chubby or skinny just average size, virginity loss, breast play, hand jobs (m receiving), unintentional edging, continuous position changing, penetrative sex, unprotected sex because the victorians did not vibe with condoms

Word Count - 9,668

Notes - this is the final part of this little 'twoshot.' i think this is a nice place to wrap it up and end it and move on to make even more erik content because god knows we are all starved. god bless.

feedback is appreciated :) good or bad

01 / 02 (you're here!)

You were not exaggerating when you mentioned that the statues required cleaning. Specks of dust covered every surface of the different fabrics and metals of the stolen display pieces. You couldn't remember the last time you saw Erik dusting them.

You spent a good two hours meticulously cleaning those statues, keeping yourself occupied. A wave of guilt settled deep within your chest as you reminisced about the events that had transpired before your hasty departure. It had been overwhelming for you - the emotional outpouring and the astonishment of finally seeing Erik's face had struck you hard. Not to mention when you recklessly flung yourself onto him, as if devoid of any semblance of control over your own limbs. You were overcome by a sense of foolishness. In that moment, you believed it was the only choice available to you: to fabricate an excuse and flee from his presence.

Your heart constricted as if it were tightly bound by an unforgiving rope, mercilessly pulling and yanking as you sat consumed by your ruminations. The weight of guilt intensified as you contemplated the depth of Erik's sentiments, the vulnerability he had bared before you. Desperately, you tried your best to suppress these thoughts, reminding yourself that you needed time for introspection, or you’d risk an emotional outburst. Yet deep within, you recognized that you ought to have known better, should have conducted yourself with greater propriety. If only you had summoned the courage to articulate your overwhelming emotions and request a moment of solitude, all of this could have been averted. Regret washed over you as you comprehended that you had needlessly transformed a simple circumstance into a tangled web of emotions and uncertainty.

It was quick approaching five o'clock, the time Erik would usually call out to you and say that he was off to gather things for your afternoon meal as you didn't have anywhere to hygienically store food in the little lagoon. You'd not seen him since the time you'd spent in your bedroom, so you mustered all your hope and prayed that he'd show himself to you so that you could vehemently apologise and beg for his forgiveness.

It took a little while longer than five o'clock, but your lover finally emerged from hiding. Your ears perked up, and your hair stood on end as the sound of footsteps approached from behind. They came to a halt not far from where you crouched, and you held your breath, your hands trembling as you continued to wipe down the statue. You found yourself fixated on a minuscule crevice in the metal, desperately endeavouring not to startle him away. The apprehension within you grew stronger with each passing second.

"It seems you're more infatuated with the statues than you are with me," Erik finally said from behind you.

You huffed in amusement, a smile finally reappearing on your lips. You compelled yourself to stand upright and forsake the act of tidying for the present moment, instead pivoting to confront the man standing in your wake. He stood towering and seemingly unfazed, a faint smile playing upon his lips akin to your own.

"You have my whole heart, don't play dumb," you laughed, dropping the duster to the floor.

Erik approached you, gradually closing the distance between you until his presence was palpable against your cold skin. His hands delicately clasped yours, his thumbs tenderly caressing you. You raised your gaze to meet his intense stare, entranced in the depths of his eyes.

"You have mine too," he said, "Which is why I'll forgive you for that little disappearing act. I wanted to give you some space, but as you know the evening is approaching and we need nourishment, so I'll be-"

"I'm sorry. I didn't consider your feelings before I left, and that was cruel of me. You'd bared yourself to me and I walked away because of my own feelings, and that was selfish," you whispered, your eyes slowly trailing down in shame as your head dropped.

Erik shook his head, a hand leaving yours to cup your chin and lift you back up to his eye level. "You can walk away from me a thousand times over, and as long as you return, I'll never bat an eye."

"Erik, that's not right," you replied, removing his hand from your chin to hold it instead, "You aren't expendable, you don't deserve to be left and returned to as it suits somebody else. If I hurt you, please say so."

"Relax, we were both tense and overwhelmed. It's alri-"

"I'm not just talking about that! How dare you say it's okay for me to leave you and waltz back as I please! You matter more than-"

Unlike before, this time it was Erik who sent his lips crashing down on yours. The intensity and urgency in his actions conveyed his feelings and spoke volumes without a single word being spoke. His lips pressed against yours with such intensity and fervour that you couldn't help but gasp. His hands wandered from yours, up the contours of your arms until they were tightly holding your face in his fiery grip. Your nerves set ablaze and your eyes watered as you quickly flung your hands up to entangle your fingers in his blonde hair, unaware that you were interfering with the knot keeping his mask attached to his head.

Erik was completely captivated, his senses consumed by the intensity of the moment. Unbeknownst to him, the ties securing his mask slowly slipped, gradually unravelling until they hung precariously. The only thing preventing the inevitable was the proximity of your faces, maintaining the fragile balance. Just as you pulled back slightly to catch your breath before resuming the kiss, the mask finally succumbed to gravity and fell, shattering the veil.

It happened in an instant. His cry of horror echoed through the room as he violently tore himself away from you, his hands that were once ardently wrapped around you now shielding himself once more. Panic surged through your veins as the realization of what had just occurred hit you like a dagger to the heart, shattering your world into a million jagged pieces. Without a second thought, you instinctively reached down to retrieve his fallen mask, your trembling fingers fumbling to grasp it as he seemed lost in a whirlwind of confusion and despair, unable to distinguish up from down.

You felt awful.

"Erik, it's okay. I didn't see anything, I have your mask. Take it," you instructed, holding it out while also trying to maintain some distance, trying to avoid frightening him further.

He struggled to regain his composure, his hands trembling uncontrollably and his body wracked with violent shudders. His mind raced, desperately trying to make sense of the unfolding situation. It was an absolute nightmare. Twice in a single day, he had been exposed, his mask stripped away and his face studied by a piercing gaze that seemed to penetrate his very soul. There was no hint of malice, no trace of fear in those eyes, and that's what terrified him the most. It was an unfathomable sensation, one that sent waves of sheer terror crashing through his being.

"Erik," you whispered, your voice barely audible. Uncertainty gripped your every word as you grappled with the weight of the situation. A deep sense of guilt washed over you, threatening to consume your thoughts. It was your fault, you knew it. The mask had come loose, revealing a side of Erik that he fiercely guarded. You feared he would believe that you had purposely revealed him, betraying his trust in the most vulnerable of moments. The room fell into a tense silence as you waited, your heart pounding in your chest, unsure of what would happen next.

You observed that he wasn't crying like he was earlier that day, which gave you some relief. However, it was evident that he was visibly distressed. Your heart ached as you observed him and his turmoil. After the intense series of events, you believed that he had experienced enough excitement for one day.

"Erik, I have your mask. Put it back on if you wish and go lay down, I'll deal with dinner arrangements tonight. You've been through so much today."

He frantically shook his head, his face still concealed behind his trembling hands. The urgency in his actions was palpable, as if his very soul depended on it. With bated breath, he inhaled deeply, summoning every ounce of courage within him. Slowly, almost agonizingly, he began to peel back his hands, one finger at a time. Your heart raced as the suspense hung heavy in the air.

As the seconds ticked by, the anticipation grew, enveloping the room like a thick fog. The silence was deafening, broken only by the sound of his quickened breaths. Every nerve in his body seemed to be on edge, as if a single wrong move could shatter his entire world. The tension mounted, building up to a high that seemed almost unbearable. You could practically taste the anticipation in the air, a mix of excitement and nervousness. It was as if time itself had slowed down, stretching out the suspense to its breaking point.

The first glimpse of his face emerged from behind his hands as they subsequently dropped to his sides. Your jaw hung heavy, falling open as you drunk in every little bit of his uncovered self. He stood there, unwavering and self assured, a resolute expression pointed at you. Your ears rang and your palms grew sweaty as you came to the realisation that this was the first time you'd seen his face show any emotion that wasn't gut-wrenchingly disconsolate. You were at a loss for words.

"Erik..."

"I know, a handsome gentleman, aren't I?"

You spluttered in shock, the blood rushing up to your cheeks as you stood there observing him. Simply seconds ago he had been exuberating monumental signs of upset, and now he was... cracking jokes? Not that you weren't attracted to him, but he clearly thought he wasn't handsome. Otherwise you two wouldn't be here right now.

"Well, I'll be taking that off your hands," Erik continued, politely taking his most beloved mask back from you. He quickly resecured it to his head. "I must really go and get food now, otherwise we will go hungry tonight. The kitchen closes around 6 o'clock, as you are aware."

You stood there, utterly astonished, as he placed a quick peck on the back of your hand before walking away. You remained rooted to the spot, completely taken aback by the unexpected turn of events. Oh, how the tables turn.

You remained in this state of stupor for an embarrassing amount of time. You were off in your own world throughout his disappearance- when he returned, once your evening meal had been prepared and consumed, and even now while you were tending to washing your cutlery and plates. Erik did not directly reference the elephant in the room throughout that entire sequence, and you knew you'd have to be the person to bring it up.

Now, you weren't usually the person to address things that required addressing. As you'd demonstrated countless times, you were a run away and ignore your feelings kind of person, not a stay and confront them head on kind of person. Admittedly, though, it was unfair to expect Erik to do the emotional heavy lifting the majority of the time, so you yielded. Just this once.

"Erik," you called out, busying yourself with scrubbing down the little nooks and cranny's of the fork you were holding. His footsteps didn't take long to hear.

"Yes, dear?"

"I'd like to discuss... what happened, with you?"

"Hm? What did happen?"

"Erik," you whined, squeezing the washcloth you were using extra hard as you rung out the dirty water.

"Sorry, I just couldn't believe what I heard. I thought my ears were deceiving me. You want to be the one to discuss things first? The horror."

"Erik, be serious!" you cried out, throwing the washcloth to the hard stone floor with a resounding 'splat!', "I wanted to just make sure you were okay, you switched so fast earlier I thought I'd gone crazy."

"Perhaps you did."

"Erik!"

"I'm just teasing," he smiled, coming to sit next to you. He rubbed your knee soothingly. "I'm perfect. I'm sorry for my little outburst, was just a shock is all. Nothing serious."

"Are you sure?" you asked, holding the hand that was rubbing your knee.

"More than I've ever been in my life."

Erik caught your eye, sustaining relentless eye contact upon saying those words.

"Well, I'll trust you then," you replied.

"How much do you trust me?" Erik asked.

"Way too much,” you giggled. Your smile soon fell upon seeing Erik’s serious expression.

A silence swept over. Your heart was hammering as if it's goal was to send you into a fatal cardiac arrest. Your throat felt as though it was closing up, the incessant twiddling of your fingers your only relief from the heavy air of suspense that wafted over you both like a weighted blanket. You could practically feel your heart in your throat.

"That's all I needed to know."

The hand that was resting on your knee slowly began to crawl up the length of your leg, fingertips lightly grazing your skin as it travelled up and up. You were practically hyperventilating. The sinful intentions behind his touch were palpable, and yet he seemed unashamed, as if he were waiting for you to make the next move.

Soon he reached the curvature of where your thigh met your hips, giving your leg a firm squeeze before continuing even higher up your body. The air was so thick you felt as though you could slice it with a knife and it'd split in two. His hands were so gentle and careful, as if he were afraid one wrong move would make you bolt.

"How about we get some sleep for the night, my dear? I'm quite tired after today, I feel like an early retreat to bed is in order," Erik stated, giving you a coy smile. Your head felt as though it could explode at any second.

"Oh. Alright, then. I bid you goodnight," you quickly mounted your feet, "I hope you sleep well and I shall see you in the-"

Erik quickly scooped you up into his arms, holding you tight and secure as he made his way in the opposite direction of where your bedroom resided. Your eyes widened.

"Erik? Why are we heading to your room? You said it was a bad idea for us to share," you squeaked.

"That was before you'd seen my face. Now we've gotten over that small hurdle, the matter of bedroom sharing is no longer an issue," he replied. "Now, shall we?"

Without saying a word, Erik carried you closer and closer to his resting place. His steps were steady yet quick, and he maintained a firm grip on you. During the journey, you noticed a subtle change in Erik's demeanour. The fire and intensity that once burned in his eyes had started to fade, as if he were changing his mind about something.

As you stepped into his bedroom, your eyes wandered with fascination. It was your first time setting foot inside Erik's chambers, and you were captivated by the opportunity to glimpse into his life as you observed your surroundings. His bed, adorned with little coffins on the posts and covered with neatly arranged black covers, boasted a dark brown wooden frame. It was nestled in the corner of the room, exuding an air of intimacy and comfort. Adjacent to the bed stood a wardrobe, while a meticulously organized desk, adorned with stacked papers and a fountain pen, occupied the space in front. A small bookcase resided beside the desk, completing the ensemble. Though entirely ordinary, the room exuded an atmosphere of tidiness and orderliness, prompting a smile to spread across your lips.

"If you don't have any objections, I'd like for us to share this room together from now on. Your old room can be altered to be a place for your hobbies, interests, whatever you wish it to be. Whatever makes you happy," he said.

"That would be wonderful," you replied. He gently lowered you until your feet could comfortably touch the floor below. However, he made sure to keep an arm firmly sinched around your waist, even as you stood upright.

He nodded, radiating a clear sense of joy and relief. After a final glance around, you turned to face him and met his gaze immediately.

"Forgive me if this comes across as strange, but I've kept some nightclothes for you in here since we started our relationship. Just in case," Erik gently squeezed your waist before stepping away and opening the drawers at the bottom of his wardrobe. Delicate lace and pristine white fabric peeked out from the open drawers as he continued, "Everything will be brought over from your room tomorrow, tonight just wear these."

He reached into the drawers and carefully retrieved the aforementioned night clothes, placing them on the bed beside him. With deliberate movements, he pulled open the doors of the storage unit and extracted a long night shirt. Excusing himself, he quietly stepped away to find a private space to change. As he left, you seized the opportunity that presented itself. Swiftly and silently, you exchanged your blouse and long skirt for the nightgown he had prepared for you.

He returned not long after you'd finished closing your top button, door squeaking as he slowly shut it behind him. He took a deep breath before raising his hands to untie the knot behind his head, allowing the mask to slip off. Seeing you have no reaction, he reached out, waiting for you to place your hand in his before guiding you to the side of the bed. He wrapped you in his arms before lifting you once more, pressing a quick kiss against your forehead before lowering you onto the mattress below. You sunk into the bed as if you were laying on clouds.

He busied himself with removing the blankets from beneath you, bringing them up and over to envelope your frame. He ensured that every inch of your skin was covered and unexposed to the chilly lagoon air. Reaching up, he tucked your hair behind your ear, slowly trailing his fingers down until he stopped at your neck. He gave you another quick kiss before retreating.

He blew out out the candle on his desk before he carefully crawled up onto the bed. He tucked himself away into the corner while you laid on the outside. His arm slithered underneath your neck, pulling you into him with his other. You rested your head on his chest as you turned, nuzzling into him as if he were a giant teddy bear. You thought his heart were about to leap from his chest from the rate you could hear it hammering.

"Goodnight," you said.

"Goodnight."

Many evenings were spent in such a manner. Before long, your former room was emptied and filled with new, exciting things. It had transformed into a new sanctuary, replacing your secluded spot in the verdant woods outside. Now, you possessed a haven to house your cherished items; somewhere to store your books, a cozy nook where you could recline and immerse yourself in literature for hours, and a table for you to engage in the art of crochet, a repository for yarn, and a showcase for your completed projects. It has everything you wanted, precisely as he promised.

Your sentiments for Erik were blossoming with each passing day. His comforting caress, his unwavering commitment to your happiness, his tender manner of adoration - they propelled your emotions beyond what you had deemed imaginable. As a child, you could not have fathomed that dwelling in a modest subterranean abode would be where you dreamed to be in life. Yet, now that you were settled in this lagoon, the thought of never encountering him seemed unfathomable. He personified a sense of belonging, amalgamating all that was exquisite and comforting. He was your haven, the epitome of beauty and security.

But as Erik's love and devotion enshrouded you, there existed an alluring charm concealed beneath the surface. It beckoned you irresistibly, drawing you closer, its presence palpable. You could discern its essence in his tantalizing touch, his possessive grasp, as he ensnared you with an insatiable hunger. It was as if he held you under a bewitching spell, your body a mere marionette swaying to his carnal desires. The longing in his eyes spoke of an urge that transcended innocence, a primal yearning that flouted the conventions of morality. And you, consumed by the same passionate flame, yearned for him with equal fervour, unbound by societal expectations or righteous inhibitions.

So why was he resisting?

He was your everything, your entire world consumed by his presence. You did believe yourself to be the keeper of his heart, and he, in turn, was the keeper of yours. No other soul could ever compare to the ardour you held for him. He was the very essence of your existence, the driving force that propelled you through each passing day. It was not about what he did for you or what he provided; it was simply him—the embodiment of all that you craved. You were willing to endure the depths of hell itself just to remain at his side. There were no limits to what you were willing to bestow upon him, not even your own purity.

It was truly mortifying how excessively you fixated on this minuscule detail. From the moment you had first shared a bed, weeks or even months had elapsed. The atmosphere crackled with an undeniable sexual tension and an insatiable yearning that permeated every interaction, overwhelming you to the point of metaphorical asphyxiation. If only he did not desire it, then you would accept it and never mention the subject again or indulge in surreptitious tantalizing touches. But it was evident that he did indeed want it. His body language screamed what his own lips dared not speak.

So tonight, you had a plan. Either he would relinquish his defences and claim you, as you could discern the fervent desire in his eyes, or he would quash all notions and prospects of intimacy for the indeterminate future. A straightforward affirmation or denial was all you sought, to then bring an end to your torturous overthinking.

To start your plan, you deliberately selected sleepwear that exuded desire, surpassing the usual modesty of your night clothes. It was exquisitely crafted from elegant and feather-light fabric, delicately caressing your skin in a manner that mirrored your desires for your beloved's touch. Its slender straps gracefully extended from the bodice, adorned with sheer breast cups embellished with intricate floral lace. Just below your bosom, a dainty bow served as a liaison between the upper portion of the gown and the gracefully flowing, undecorated skirt. While not lingerie per se, you believed it would at least catch his eye. Hopefully.

As per his usual routine, he entered the room once he had finished dressing for the evening. Lately, he had taken to leaving his mask aside unless he had to venture into the opera house or he was planning to receive a visit from Gerard. Hence, you had the opportunity to behold his expression in its entirety when his gaze fell upon you. His eyes widened, and his mouth fell agape, unabashedly scanning your figure as you discreetly feigned obliviousness to his direct scrutiny. In that moment, you felt acutely aware of your own immodesty, your cheeks aflame with a profound sense of embarrassment.

"I haven't seen that nightdress before," he commented, finally picking up his slack jaw. He moved closer to you, hands coming to rest on your hips as he lips edged near to your ear.

"It was at the back of my closet, I hadn't noticed it until today," you lied, knowing that you'd been very aware of it, and just had no reason to wear it. Until now.

"You look heavenly," he whispered into your ear, sending shivers ricocheting down your spine. His presence was dizzying.

You hadn't thoroughly pondered the plan it seemed. You had hoped that the execution would require minimal effort on your part, yet you had neglected to determine your response for this inevitable situation. Shaking your head, you realized the need to gather your wits. Retreat was not an option now that you had made a commitment.

"Do I?" you asked, hesitantly placing your hands upon his. You needed to act like you knew what you were doing. "You should feel the fabric, it's heavenly to touch as well."

You sensually and enticingly glided both of your hands up your torso, relishing every moment as they caressed the curve of your waist, skilfully manoeuvring them to rest seductively beneath the swell of your bosom. A startled gasp escaped his lips, his breath catching as he realized the audaciousness of your gesture. Your confidence surged with every passing second.

"Y-yes, it's quite nice. I see what you mean," he tried to remove his hands, but you clutched him tighter in response. He clearly didn't really want to remove his hands either, because he didn't put up more resistance than that.

"You touching me is quite nice, too. Although I'd prefer your hands higher."

Each breath that escaped his lips resonated loudly in your ear, his yearning becoming increasingly apparent as it ardently pressed against your backside. Instinctively, you drew your body nearer to his, eliciting a deep groan from behind.

"Or lower. I'm not fussy."

Erik felt as if he were on the verge of bursting. Every ounce of blood in his body was frenziedly surging downward, his throat parched as sweat dripped down his skin. His fingers yearned to comply with your request, but his mind vehemently protested, urging him to resist and refrain from succumbing to such feeble-mindedness. He couldn’t treat you like an object, only something he used to fulfil his devilish wants.

"My dear, I know you may not intend to have this affect on me, but I am a man and... your words stir things in me. Please allow me to remove my hands so we can retire for the night."

"What if that is my intention?" you teased.

Erik hesitated. Did you truly wish for him to treat you in such a manner? Perhaps you did not fully grasp the implications of your actions. For an unwed woman to partake in the act of intimacy was deemed the utmost disgrace, an indelible blemish that would tarnish her reputation indefinitely. Although Erik knew that their secret would remain hidden, he did not wish to lead you astray into the depths of sin. While he may not believe in a higher power, he understood that most individuals clung to faith, and you were no exception.

"I couldn't do that to you," he replied, "You are my lover, not something for me to vent my unholy desires upon. I hold too much respect for you to allow that to happen."

You sighed. "Is that why you kept running away? Because you do not wish me to be a damned woman?"

"Yes. It is already too late for me, I have done too much wrong and I have hurt too many. But you can be saved."

Carefully considering his words, you shrugged, "I can always repent."

Erik gawked at your words, eyebrows furrowing as he processed what you'd uttered. Did you not understand the severity of the situation? Were you not thinking straight at the moment? Why were-

"I may believe in God, but I also believe you aren't going to heaven. So why would I want to go there either?" you explained, tightening your grip on his hands. "If I end up changing my mind, and I regret my decisions, I shall repent and hopefully God will forgive me. But if I marry the man I had premarital sex with, is it really so bad?"

Erik found himself descending into a state of turmoil. He grew exasperated, unable to comprehend why you could not understand that he was doing this for you. He yearned for you to grasp his intentions, to comprehend that his actions were driven by a desire to shield you from sorrow and remorse. Simultaneously, a sense of bewilderment overcame him. As you expanded upon your reasoning, the fortress around his emotions began to crumble, revealing a vulnerability that he had long concealed. With each passing word, he felt his defences wane, his carnal desires surging forth, beckoning him to abandon propriety and surrender to the depths of his impure thoughts. The allure of gratification grew stronger, compelling him to yearn for the freedom to explore the depths of his desires, to caress you with an intensity that bordered on ravishment, and to claim you as his own.

"So, Erik," you spoke, "Will you take me right here and right now, or will we forget this ever happened and go to bed, as if nothing ever happened?"

Erik let out a strained sigh, feeling his composure shatter like delicate porcelain. He offered no words in return, only a meek inclination of his head, which you could discern from the proximity between you. Your heart soared with a mixture of elation and trepidation.

You spun around and launched yourself at him with an enthusiasm you never knew you possessed. Every fantasy, desire, urge, and longing surged to the surface, your lips conveying everything you had kept locked away until this moment. Oxygen ceased to matter, the world dissolving into nothingness as you clung to him with every ounce of desperation. The bed seemed impossibly distant.

With a sense of urgency, you propelled yourself forward, gently but firmly directing Erik until his knees collided with the plush mattress. Wasting no time, you pressed your delicate hands against his chest and gracefully pushed him back, momentarily breaking the connection of your lips as he tumbled onto the bed beneath. He hastily settled into a proper position, while you, with a mix of excitement and apprehension, gracefully climbed on top of him, your legs straddling his form.

Too much time had been squandered to concern yourself with trivial matters like being gentle and slow, you needed him now and you had no intention of lingering. You centre settled upon his pelvis, sensing the warmth of his length beneath his night shirt. Your hips circled around the bulge poking through the fabric, moans and whimpers escaping your lips as you took everything he was willing to give you. He definitely did not object.

Your kisses grew increasingly fervent and frenzied as time wore on, losing yourself in the sensation of his proximity and knowing that by the morning, your connection would have deepened and exceeded all of your expectations. Reflecting upon yourself a month prior, when Erik finally granted you the privilege of seeing him whole- witnessing the profound transformation that had taken place between the two of you since then was nothing short of dizzying.

The straps of your nightgown were slowly beginning to falter off of your shoulders, loosely hanging as if begging him to finish the job and strip you entirely. You’d imagined countless nights of lying beneath him, skin bare and free for him to explore and observe as you basked in the glory of his gaze. So with that thought, you took the hands that were currently clinging onto your hips for dear life and placed them on your shoulders, saying exactly what you wanted without uttering a word.

Erik appeared to understand your desires, for with trembling hands and lips that faltered, he withdrew himself to assess the situation. He gazed up at you, seeking your approval with a nervous and hesitant air, fearful of making a wrong move that would propel you away from him and back to square one. However, your reassuring nod and an intensified grinding of your hips against his spurred him into action more swiftly than a racehorse urged on by the whip. He wasted no time in discarding the delicate straps that confined your form, liberating your body from his prying gaze.

As your nightgown fell to bunch at your legs, Erik felt as though his lungs almost gave out. Your body was unlike anything he’d ever seen in the paintings he collected, every mark and curve of your skin displaying a radiance he didn’t realise was possible. With a thrust of his hips, he gestured for you to move back so he could continue diligently removing the last of your clothing.

The moment your last inch of skin emerged from the confines of the fabric, Erik gently nudged you to recline. You should have felt more shy or apprehensive about being bare and vulnerable beneath him, yet the only sensation that coursed through you was the fire that blazed within your core. You let out a soft whine about no longer being able to remain on top of him, but your grievances were swiftly silenced as his hands swept you up, swiftly manoeuvring you beneath him.

“Wait, can I see you too?” You asked, hurriedly sitting up before he had the chance to properly position himself above you. He seemed taken aback by your eagerness.

“Are you sure? I’m nothing special to look at, don’t feel-“

“Take your shirt off!” You demanded.

Erik seemed even more speechless than you thought possible. His eyes were blown wide in astonishment as if you had begun conversing in a long-forgotten, extinct tongue. While somewhat entertained by his disoriented state, you delicately extended your hand and commenced the task of unfastening the buttons of his nightshirt with the utmost precision and unwavering determination, as if you’d done this many times before. Even if that couldn’t be less inaccurate.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he reminded you, “It’s okay to go slow.”

Slow was a word that had no place in your dictionary at this present moment. However, you eased your grasp and lessened the ferocity of your actions, aiming to appear slightly less forceful in your demeanour.

After the last button popped free, you hurriedly removed the garment from him. Discarding it to the side, you reclined slowly, unable to tear your gaze away. His figure exuberated a powerful presence, every inch meticulously sculpted as if by the hand of a master artisan. Though littered with small scars and scratches, the striking juxtaposition between his celestial physique and his disfigured visage was utterly captivating, leaving you utterly intrigued.

He could feel your eyes penetrating him, and he resisted every urge screaming at him to shrink away. He was done hiding from you, he wanted to feel the warmth of you enveloping him, holding him, loving him until the day it was no longer possible. He wanted to give you all of him and never let go. He was done with thinking he didn’t deserve to be loved wholly, because you were right here offering everything he never believed he could possess. You had defied all of his meagre expectations and made him a new man.

You were so pliant and pure beneath him, the rise and fall of your chest and the slight nibble on your bottom lip betraying the hidden worry within. He wasted no time in leaning forward above you, his lips desperate as they sought to kiss away every fear and trace of hesitation you harboured. He bestowed a trail of delicate kisses down your forehead, across your cheeks, and along the graceful curve of your neck. His fervent kisses then graced your shoulders, tracing a path around your collarbones, each touch so delicate and reverent, until finally reaching the soft expanse of your chest.

His lips hovered, waiting for the right moment to strike and send you into a frenzy of pleasure and bliss. He bestowed tender kisses upon the delicate curvature of your breasts, attending closely to the sounds that escaped your parted lips. He observed the signals your body conveyed, observing the hastened rhythm of your breath and the involuntary movement of your legs, the way you were drawing them closer to create friction where you craved it. His own longing became unmistakable, his cock standing tall and achingly rigid, tantalizingly grazing against your abdomen.

His mouth was progressively nearing your nipples, delicately encircling your areola and occasionally darting out his tongue to deliver a teasing lick. Despite his inexperience, he performed with an air of seasoned confidence, as though he had engaged in such intimate encounters countless times before. He knew exactly where to lick, kiss and touch to elicit the most erotic responses from you. His lips slowly closed around your nipple, testing the waters with light sucking and flicks of his tongue before experimentally grazing it with his teeth, his cock turning red and angry from how much blood was coursing through his veins.

You cried out at the peculiar sensation, quickly calling out for him to not be too rough with his teeth. He nodded against you, his tussled hair tickling your skin as he consumed himself with teasing and playing with your breasts. It felt so scandalous and immoral the way he played with you, the way his hands caressed and pressed against you as he familiarized himself with the curves of your body.

As his fervor increased, your sensitive buds responded with heightened sensitivity. The intense and eager caresses caused your nipples to swell, becoming puffy and tender. The sensation was so overwhelming that tears threatened to well up in your eyes, the stimulation evoking a sharp, piercing ache. Eventually, you found yourself asking him to stop, and he promptly complied upon hearing you.

"Are you alright?" He was panting, saliva coating the surroundings of his mouth.

You nearly laughed, but could only manage a whimsical giggle. The sight of him so concerned yet utterly spent at the same time stirred emotions within you that you dared not confess. Your essence overflowed, moistening your inner thighs as it trickled out like a stream. The influence your lover had on you was profound, surpassing anything you had ever imagined. Even the most daring of literature that you’d read did not evoke such a powerful surge of arousal and longing within you.

"I'm perfect," you smiled, "but my breasts were beginning to hurt, and the feeling was becoming much too overwhelming. Besides, I'd like to return the favour."

You sprung up, lifting your back off the bed before he even had time to brainstorm his response. You jumped at him, twisting both of you until he was back beneath you. You gave him a sloppy kiss before pulling away, venturing down until you reached his shaft. It was longer than you expected. Your old, more outspoken friends who boasted of their premarital escapades always mentioned men's genitalia to be around four or five inches, but Erik's seemed more like six or seven. His girth seemed to align well with their descriptions, so you decided he must just be a bit more gifted in the length department. You gulped.

"What are you doing? Please, just focus on yourself. I need nothing in return."

You shook your head teasingly, rolling your eyes with a small smirk on your face. The vivid images that had danced in your mind about how on earth that was supposed to fit inside you were quickly dismissed. You gathered all the saliva you could muster in your mouth, spitting it onto your hand. You’d read about that in a book once.

Erik looked utterly astounded, captivated by the strings of saliva that cascaded from your lips. He was about to inquire about your intentions and where the destination of that saliva globule was going to be, but his curiosity was quickly satisfied when your delicate fingers enfolded around his manhood and you tentatively began stroking him up and down. Your movements lacked the refined cadence of experienced hands, occasionally faltering in rhythm and fluctuating in pressure. Yet through perseverance, you eventually established a steady and pleasurable pace, accompanied by a grip that elicited delightful sensations and heightened pleasure.

Sighs of ecstasy escaped his lips, his eyes fluttering closed as he became enveloped in the sensation of your caress. He felt a stirring deep within his abdomen, a tension coiling tighter and tighter until it would inevitably release. His skin glowed with perspiration as he tilted his head back, his moans growing louder and louder, harmonizing with the sound of your saliva squelching as your hand traversed his shaft.

He was no stranger to desire and impure thoughts, long before he had met you he still yearned and had fantasies of what it would feel like to touch and be touched by another. However, he refrained from indulging in such pleasures, deeming it a frivolous waste of his time. Little did he know that the allure and intensity of self-pleasure had eluded him. Oh, how he wished he had been more enlightened back then.

Something was building inside him. Unaware, you continued your steady pace, looking into his eyes with a sweet smile. He felt something akin to a rubber band stretching in his abdomen, reaching its snapping point, pulling further apart. Instinctively, his hand reached up to grab your free hand, squeezing with a force that you knew would cause pain the next day.

Your arm was beginning to seize up, your muscles cramping worse than you’d ever experienced before. His hand practically crushing yours didn’t help, and eventually, you had to relent and withdraw. A frustrated grunt escaped his throat, his eyes clenching shut as his hips bucked. The snapping sensation in his abdomen gradually subsided, the build-up disappearing as if it were never there to begin with.

"That was... different," he heaved.

"Good different?" You tentatively asked.

"Good different," he confirmed.

A profound stillness enveloped both of you as Erik struggled to regain his composure, his erection throbbing with a vengeance. He clenched his jaw, the distressing ache seeping into his bones, sending tingles down his limbs and leaving his mind in a dizzying haze. The rush of blood roared in his ears as he lay there, gradually returning to the realm of consciousness.

You were filled with trepidation. Had you committed a grievous error? Why did he seem so discomposed? His eyes were shut, and his chest rose and fell with alarming rapidity. He appeared to be in a state of distress. The books you read had failed to prepare you for such a sight!

"Are you alright, love?" You fussed, cupping his cheeks in your hands in concern, "Do you need anything? Water? To stop?"

"No, no, no," he instantly denied, waving his hand. His arm came to drop over his eyes. "I'm just... a little overwhelmed, I suppose."

Hearing that he wasn't about to enter sudden cardiac arrest, you threw your leg over his stomach. Your warmth pressed deliciously against his well-toned abdominal muscles, sending electrifying sensations up your bones. He appeared more at ease now, his hand that wasn't thrown across his face reaching up to caress the skin of your thigh with his fingertips. Quivers reverberated through your body, as if a gentle breeze had swept through the room, carrying with it a delightful shiver of pleasure.

You leaned forward, pressing your lips against his with utmost delicacy. His other hand joined in, but instead of gently caressing your thighs, he grasped your flesh firmly, guiding your hips in a swaying motion. Your mind turned to mush, the undulating movement causing your senses to ignite. Sparks flickered between your bodies, every touch sending pleasurable jolts through your form as he manipulated you to his desires.

Every pitiful moan and whimper was swallowed by his intoxicating mouth, every breath shared intermingling into one. He kept you restrained at a steady pace, even as you attempted to push against it and yearned for a more vigorous rhythm. One amused glance sent a rush of crimson to your cheeks, a blush of embarrassment that betrayed you.

"Can I put it in?" You whispered. You wanted to get your upper hand back and fast.

He paused for a moment, his pupils dilating and a gasp escaping his lips as he absorbed your words. His eyes turned upwards towards yours, staring deep into your soul as if attempting to decipher your thoughts. His unyielding gaze was slightly intimidating, and you found yourself questioning if you had spoken inappropriately.

"If you wish," he replied.

Sucking in your lower lip, you cautiously descended. The sensation of his tip brushing against you made you unconsciously bite down, feeling the connection of your most intimate parts. He elevated himself to a seated position, pressing his arousal even closer to your entrance. The wetness that coated his tip, combined with your own slickness, allowed for ample lubrication as it trickled down.

He gave you one final questioning look, to which you responded with a confident nod. He returned the gesture in understanding. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you slowly lowered yourself until the tip naturally found its way to your opening, gently teasing and exploring. You bit down on your lip so hard that you could taste blood, but you pressed on. His hand reached down to assist in guiding himself inside you, and both of you gasped as his bulbous tip slipped past your entrance.

The sensation was indescribable, pleasure and discomfort waging a battle as your body came to a halt. Erik pressed tender kisses along your shoulder, his hand resting on your back to ease your tension. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced, the feeling of your purity being tested by his manhood was intense and sent a fiery heat rushing through your core. Your face twisted as you summoned the strength to sink further, enduring the initial sting as best you could.

"We can stop at any time, just say the word," Erik gently reminded you, nestling his head against you as he patiently waited for you to adjust. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt for indulging in such pleasure while you were clearly in pain. He made a concentrated effort to conceal his contorted expressions and stifle his moans and grunts.

Finally, you managed to lower yourself fully into his lap. His cock was nestled deep within your intimate depths. You took deep breaths, determined to overcome the discomfort and replace it with the exhilaration you knew could await. It felt as if you were being impaled, your arms clinging to him with increasing intensity as you willed yourself to relax and surrender to the sensations that enveloped you.

You were practically restraining him, keeping him trapped inside of you to the extent that he felt unable to move even if he desired to. The tightness was approaching discomfort, his soothing and calming touches attempting to coax you into relaxing your muscles and embracing the sensation.

After a few moments of acclimation and striving to ease your muscles, you soon sensed the inferno below gradually transform into a thrilling excitement. A surge of adrenaline coursed through you as you comprehended your current location and the nature of your actions.

Testing out the waters, you gingerly lifted your hips, wincing at the sensation of your walls contracting as you raised yourself further off of him. His swollen tip caught on your entrance, prompting you to cease ascending. Erik released his grip around you, reclining back on his hands to observe the spectacle.

The eye contact was overwhelming. He dared not divert his gaze from you for a single moment, your partially closed eyes battling to remain open as you lowered yourself back down. A strangled cry threatened to escape your lips as the exquisite stretch overwhelmed your senses, your mind empty and your vision wavering. His tip was nearly grazing your cervix. Every fibre of your being was consumed by the sensation, your mind black and vision wavering.

You pushed yourself up and down a few more times, willing yourself to adjust and adapt. Gradually, you found your rhythm, moving with grace as your walls glided along his cock. The sound of your flesh meeting echoed softly in the air as you fervently rode him. He was buried deep within you, overwhelming your senses and leaving you dizzy with desire. Erik wasn’t any better off.

"Oh my god," you whined, fucking yourself on him as if you had never been more desperate for anything in your life. "I've been dreaming of this for so long."

"Me too," Erik grunted.

Your breasts undulated in perfect harmony with your motions, practically demanding Erik to divert his gaze towards them. In any other circumstance, you would have teasingly chastised him for his audacity, yet a deeper blush coloured your cheeks as you beheld him intently studying your form. He reclined further upon the bed, his weight supported by his elbows, his eyes filled with a fervent longing.

Your hands instantly found purchase on his chest, using him as leverage to move faster and rougher on top of him. He was engrossed in the way your body moved and responded to him, his hoarse moans only serving to make you even more hot and bothered. Your faltering stamina almost made you want to burst into tears, because the last thing you wanted to do was stop.

Erik soon caught on to your stuttering motions, noticing the way your hair stuck to your forehead from the copious amount of sweat.

"I love you, I love you so much," you cried, sniffling from the overload of emotions that were bubbling to the surface. The love, the infatuation, the relief, the pleasure, the euphoria- everything was rising inside of you abruptly and without warning.

"I love you too," he moaned, relinquishing his elbows to rest upon the bed. He grabbed your hips, bringing you to a pause. You sobbed. "Are you getting tired?"

"No, I'm perfectly fine," you protested, attempting to resist his hold in order to resume your agitated movements. He would've rolled his eyes at your stubbornness if he wasn't distracted by the feeling of your hole swallowing his cock.

He forcefully pulled you down, pressing your body against his chest as he exerted his dominance. With a swift motion, he flipped you over, positioning himself on top. In the process, he momentarily withdrew from your cunt, but without hesitation, he re-entered your inviting warmth. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, and your arms enveloped him as you surrendered to him, reclining in submission.

Your mouth formed a perfect 'o' as you endured his pounding, setting a fervent and punishing cadence as he plunged inside of you with all the strength he could summon. Your world spun, your lungs yearning for air as you let out moans and cries with every motion he executed.

His whispered curses and sounds of pleasure were hot against your ear, every slide in and out enhanced by how close he was pressed against you. It was intoxicating, his embrace crushing you so tight that you couldn't distinguish where your body met the mattress and where his body met yours. Everything dissolved into one.

"Does this feel good?" Erik questioned, pace merciless as he pulled away to look at you directly.

"Yes! Yes it does!" You wailed.

"Who's making you feel good?" He growled.

"You! You!"

"What's my name?"

"Erik! Oh!"

"That's right," He let out a deep and guttural groan, diverting his gaze from you for a fleeting moment. With a firm grip on your thighs, he effortlessly folded you, positioning your knees so close to your ears that it bordered on the extreme. "Who do you belong to?" he gruffly inquired, his voice laced with a hint of possessiveness.

"Ah! You, Erik! You!"

"You," thrust, "belong," thrust, "to," thrust, "me."

Ecstasy surged through your being, the sensation of being filled to the brim overwhelmed your senses. Your every nerve tingled and quivered, your body contorting and your eyes fluttering in pure pleasure. Your walls fluttered around him as you uttered his name in breathless gasps, your voice choked with desire. The tightening in your core reached a crescendo before finally giving way to an intense release.

Erik was going crazy. The feeling of you contracting and spasming around him made his body tremor as his desperate pace transitioned into aimless jerking. His resolve came undone as white ribbons shot out of him, painting your walls white. Your cunt was practically milking him.

"My god," Erik sighed, huffing as he recovered from the aftershocks of his climax.

You were in no better a state. Tears streaked down your face, and sweat had practically glued your bodies together. Erik withdrew himself from you, guiding your limp legs back onto the bed. He laid beside you, his form exhausted and his arousal gradually subsiding, as you both took a moment to regain composure.

You swallowed, surprised at how parched your throat was. "Was it good?... Was I good?"

"Better than I ever imagined," he affirmed.

It didn't take long for Erik to rise, hastily donning his nightshirt before exiting the chamber and venturing into the lagoon. In a swift manner, he reappeared, clutching a moist towel in his grasp. With delicate precision, he gently glided it over your sensitive areas, meticulously cleansing the semen that had spilled out of you, ensuring that no traces of your sin were left behind.

A damp patch had formed beneath you, causing the fabric to become stained and the bed linens quite uncomfortable to rest upon. Erik gently lifted you and settled you onto the chair positioned in front of his desk, attending to the task of replacing the soiled bedsheets so that you would not have to sleep upon the concoction of your arousal and his release.

"I'll prepare baths for us tomorrow. For now, I think it's best for you to get some sleep," Erik tapped your cheek, laughing as your droopy eyelids perked up at his touch.

You grumbled at him, your dishevelled hair and pouting lips evoking a sense of charm that made his heart soar. He scooped you up once more, cradling you in his arms with care as he escorted you back to your shared bed. With haste, you scurried beneath the fresh linen, seeking solace and warmth within the confines of the quilt that shielded your immodest frame from the chill that seemed to permeate the air. Erik casually discarded the used towel into a corner alongside the dirtied sheets, joining you on the bed and tucking himself away behind you with his back to the wall.

He drew you closer, his arm slipping beneath your neck as he nestled you against his side. You gazed up at him, a smile gracing your lips, but inside, a vexed frustration swelled as you silently cursed his attire. Why must he remain clothed while you, in this moment, were so undressed?

"If I'm naked, then you're naked," you playfully stated.

"Is that so?"

"Yes, strip right now."

He complied silently with your request, and your internal vexation turned to jubilation as his flesh made contact with yours. You resumed your former position, nestling yourself once again into his embrace as your wearied eyes finally succumbed to the burden of your fatigue.

Then it was ruined.

"Will you marry me?" Erik implored, his voice filled with anticipation and a touch of desperation. As your disapproving gaze met his, he hastily continued, "We've already consummated our love. What's the harm? We agreed on this months ago."

Snickering under your breath, you retorted, "Get me a ring first, then I'll consider."

The comforting hum of Erik's complaints and attempts at convincing you to please please marry him carried you softly and sweetly into a deep sleep.

[b0rtney]

What none of u seem to get is that Charles is still the pov character when he is the pov character. A bunch of ppl write him w interjections, other ppls thoughts, and it always reads a little clumsy. It feels like other ppl are speaking over the narrative, which can be a very powerful literary tool, but it’s rarely used as one. Let this man have his own pov narrative!!!! Unless speaking in direct quotes, would u put quotation marks around the gist of what someone said? No? Crazy! Don’t do it w telepathy either! It will feel so much more natural to have his own narrative peppered with his observations of other ppls thoughts just as he has observations of his physical surroundings, the smell of Erik’s fucking aftershave or whatever yallre so obsessed w. Stop forcing other ppl to constantly interject on Charles pov and let him tell the story himself. This is one of those show dont tell moments.

[neijah]

sooo…anyone knowing who wrote this?

[gerec]

Hello, I just want to say thank you so much because you’re one of the main reason I’m back into the Cherik hole again after 8 years :Đ (I’m still having a lovely time here). Also, would you mind if I ask you for some fic recs of 1. Alternative first meeting where Erik and Charles meet/flirt with each other at the bar and 2. Smut fics that included dirty talk about breeding/pregnant kink but no actual mpreg. I know it’s a lot but I hope you could help :Đ Thank you so so much for still being here!

Hello darling Anon! Sorry for the delay; it took a while for me to search for recs based on your criteria! I've got some good ones for their first meeting at a bar, but I was only able to think of/find one fic with dirty talk that didn't include mpreg (the other one is rule 63). Anyway I'm so glad you're giving Cherik another go around it's wonderful to rediscover an old love :D :D :D Hope you enjoy!!!

First Meeting at a bar (there aren't many canon verse fics I know of, but there are many great aus):

In Plain Sight by Lenore

As it happens, Charles does know how it feels to hide who he is. A stranger in a pub sees right through him.

Bloodbound by ikeracity

Finding himself strapped for cash at the start of his senior year, Erik decides to become a donor at TypO, a blood bar where vampires come to drink fresh blood from consenting donors, safely and legally. There, he catches the eye of Charles Xavier, vampire, telepath, professor at Columbia, and quite possibly the most alluring person Erik's ever met. Their first meeting sets into motion a bond much deeper than they can understand, one that neither of them had ever expected.

Hitting If Off by niniblack

Erik meets the perfect guy at the bar. Too bad Mr. Perfect is on a date with someone else...

Twinks, Daddies & Bears. Oh my! by Villain

Charles is fresh back from Oxford and new to the gay scene in New York. On his first night out at the clubs with his best friend Hank, he sees the Big Bad Wolf; otherwise known as Erik Lehnsherr.

Punk Rock Boy by Not_You

Charles goes to a punk gig for an anthropology paper, and things get crazy.

A Telepath Walks Into a Bar by ximeria

Erik hates it when drunk idiots interrupt his flirting.

United We Stand, Divided They Fall by ximeria

The prompt was "the only two people at a bar rooting for the same football team au". And that's more or less what it is.

99 bottles of beer on the wall by orphan_account

It's been years since the accident that paralyzed Charles, leaving him wheelchair-bound and shattering his carefree life of drinking, sex, and loose telepathy. Raven finally guilt's Charles into going to a bar with her, only to have them run into a rather unsavory Mutant and Disability fetishist.

And One For Yourself? (Let Me Take You Home?) by meh_guh

Charles has had it with academia. He's sick of Boston, sick of teaching Bio 101, sick of Nathaniel Essex's guerrilla campaign against his lab time. So of course, the only thing to do is to move back to NYC and open a bar. It'll be a lark.

And Tony's there! Scads of guilt-free, friendly sex is never to be frowned upon.

Of course, the bewitching lunatic behind the bar complicates matters, but Charles is hardly new at seduction. He'll win Erik over in a matter of weeks.

A month at the outside.

Really.

Baby, You're A Hit by mutanitys (chekov)

"How to not make it up to the cute professor you mistakenly punched at a bar" by Erik Lehnsherr.

(Erik still punches the wrong guy, but this time the hospital doesn't seem to be an option.)

-------

Fics with dirty talk about breeding/pregnant kink:

serendipity by intentation

Charles runs into his professor at a sex club. How can he possibly resist?

Perfection by LadyLustful

Charlotte Xavier didn't think she would be into being bred but here she is, getting off on hearing how she's perfect and will give Erik perfect babies.

[fullmetalcarer]

Rank your own fics cause i literally know them all and i want to see which one you like more

love love love that you know them all @inmymagnetoera

in no particular order:

The Most Beautiful of All The Angels (Remix of Sin City) - Charles is a youthful mob boss and Logan is his enforcer- xavierine with a suggestion of possible cherik.

Raven’s Brother Has Got It Going On (Remix of Notorious DILF) - disaster Xavier siblings, bamf murder ball wheelchair user Charles, smitten erik.

What’s Money When You Got Love? - 1930s prohibition era first person fic (yeah I know) - Shaw is a mob boss, Erik is his reluctant enforcer who falls for musician Charles- tremendous amount of horrific violence but our boys get away (tho not unscathed)

Adventures in Yoga- this is my most kudoed fic and it is just the crackiest smutty filthy silly cheerful cherik nonsense and shaw gets punched in the face so that’s nice.

Lord of the Flings - Erik is an incompetent Nazgûl, Charles is a horny hobbit, why are you looking at me like that?

What Dreams May Come- extremely dark David 8/Walter/Charles Xavier fic - heed the warnings and read the tags.

Purple is for Emperors- 76k words folks and the longest thing I’ve written. AU where they are mutants but almost everyone aligns as Dom or sub. The Dom might not be who you expect and might not engage with their sub as you might expect. A lot of smut and fun and humour BUT also sorrow and terrible things. Cherik wins thru in the end.

Sorry there are no links but my device is buggered

thanks for the ask :)