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headoverhiddles · 4 years

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Wrapped In Plastic - Marilyn Manson x Reader [Smut]

Synopsis: The new kid at school intrigues you. He’s infatuated too, but beneath that scary exterior, you’ve got no idea what’s in store.

Notes: Era: Spooky Kids! Requested by anon: “High school Brian having a crush on you.”

There he is, sitting in front of the principal again. Brian Warner. You're surprised he hasn't been expelled yet, frankly, even though he just moved here to South Florida recently.

You watch from afar, sitting with your friends. He's making that face. That expression... or lack of expression. He doesn't give a fuck what he got in trouble for, and you, he and the principal know it.

"Hey. (y/n)," your best friend says, "What the hell? Are you listening?"

"Yeah," you mutter, glancing back into the office. God, he would probably fuck like an animal, taking you in some old haunted forest somewhere while spanking you and telling you you're his dirty little slut...

Your friend scoffs when she sees where you're looking.

"That guy is dangerous, quit fantasizing. That isn’t your picture perfect bad boy-- that’s like dating the next Son of Sam killer.”

Your other friend chimes in. “My sister told me she saw him and his pack of weirdos out lighting an abandoned house on fire. My sister’s friend said she hears him jerking off in the washroom every lunch hour. The whole school knows about it. Also apparently in creative writing, he turned in this story about this guy fucking his sister's corpse or something. Seriously weird, probably evil. He's gonna end up in jail, mark my words." You ignore your friend, but turn back into the conversation.

Eventually, the principal gives up, dismissing him. You see Brian join his friends outside the office door, who have been waiting-- Jeordie and Stephen, you think you've heard them called in class. The one with the brown comb-over is called Pogo outside of class, because of his fascination with serial killers. You think it's funny. Those guys just do whatever they want.

Your breath hitches. Brian tucks his long black hair behind his ear, looking up and grinning at his friends. He's describing what he did, and he looks like a gleeful child who just got away with murder as the other two bust out laughing and dig for details. How could anyone think he's evil?

Cold chills run through your body as he meets your eyes. Oh, fuck. He smirks a little bit your way, but you quickly look away. His features harden, and he turns back to his friends. You turn back to yours.

You can't help watching after him as he walks down the hall to fourth period, though... his head nearly reaches the ceiling, and that metal Planet Of The Apes lunchbox makes you smile. You've heard him make a threat or two to beat someone's ass with it, and you believe he'd do it. For every bully who promised him he'd be nothing, there's something about him that promised so much more.

The bell goes, and Brian sits down at the desk.

"She was looking at you."

"Yeah, she was talking to her friends about me," Brian mutters back.

"She looked like she was wetting her panties over you," Jeordie grins, "She looks like she wanted to suck your dick right there in front of Mr. Ogilvie!"

"That'd be the day," Brian sighs.

"Yeah, you'd have beat off material forever," Pogo laughs.

"But she wasn't," he said, "You guys are just fucking blind."

"I don't know, I got some blow job vibes from her,” Pogo says.

“You get blow job vibes from everyone.”

“I’ll blow you for lunch money,” Jeordie mentions. Pogo shrugs.

“I might take you up on that.” His obnoxious laughter rings out as you walk by the door. You recognize it immediately, and look back. Brian’s sitting there, knees tucked under the desk like his legs won’t fit. Shit. In your experience, being this preoccupied with someone meant you were into them... or at least, wanted to see more of them.

Brian looks up again, and sees you staring at him. This time, he frowns. You’re drawn away by your friend, who pulls you toward your next class. As you're walking, someone calls your name.

“Hey! (y/n), right?”

You turn as your friend keeps walking ahead. You scoff slightly as he approaches. “Like you don’t know my name.” You pause, backtrack. “I- sorry. That was mean."

“That’s okay. I’ve been known to be a little mean too,” he smirks, and he flips his hair out if his face. “I guess when you hang around a bunch of catty bitches all the time, it rubs off on you.” His voice is so deep and calm. It throws you off whenever he speaks, but does other things to you as well.

"Hanging out with a pair of delinquents can do the same." Your eyes dart inside the classroom to his friends, who are carving something into a desk. He gives a small smile.

"Touché."

“Speaking of rubbing off,” you raise an eyebrow, “Did you want to talk to me?”

He blushes, then forces his embarrassment away. “That rumor’s not true.”

“No?”

“Nah. I did light that abandoned house on fire though.” He grins, and you do as well, hugging your books closer to your chest.

“So. You’re a rebel, huh?”

“If not putting up with everybody’s bullshit counts as rebelling, then yeah. I guess so.”

“I can respect that,” you nod. “I feel the same way... but I’m not as fearless as you.”

“Are you saying you might commit arson with me, (y/n)?”

“Maybe. How did the conversation progress to lighting things on fire with you?”

He laughs, ducks his head nervously. “Well. Um, I saw you staring like a creep, and... I was wondering if you wanted to be creeps together. Y’know... hang out sometime? Come see my band, or...?”

“Are you asking me out?”

“Yeah, I am.”

You smile, poking his black shirt that read Christianity is Unnatural, Abnormal, and Perverse. “You’ve got balls, Brian.” You look at the clock, and back to his class. “What do you say we fuck off for the rest of the day?”

His eyebrows shoot up. “You wanna skip class today?”

“Sorry,” you walk your fingers up his chest. “I know I’m not quite at your level of rebellion yet, but it’s a start.”

He laughs as he follows you to your locker.

---

“So. Do you have a car?”

“No.” He scratches his head. “We can walk back to my house, though. My parents aren’t home.”

Following that plan, you make it back to his house. For someone hailed as the Antichrist of the school, he's got a relatively normal looking home, white picket fence and everything. All that changes once you get to his room.

"Wow," you say, looking up at everything. He's got serial killer-like writing scrawled on the wall by his bed, lyrics that seem like they're straight out of a porno or a horror film, or both. There are pentagrams drawn on his bed posts, and posters of bands like Nine Inch Nails, Ozzy Osbourne, KISS on his walls.

"I know it's stupid, but I'd give anything to meet those guys," he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck.

"It's not stupid," you say, examining the edges of the posters, freyed from the move no doubt. "I actually think it's awesome. I love Ozzy."

"One day I'm gonna beat his record for most drugs consumed over a lifetime."

"Have you started practicing?" you tease.

"I... well, I haven't had the chance."

"Right. Let me know when you do." You smile, going over to sit on his bed. He looks down at you, seems to have a mini panic attack, then acts cool with it, playing with his lip ring and sitting beside you. You look around the messy floor. He's got a strange mix of stuff that oddly seems to perfectly fit his personality: leaking boxes of black hair dye, various lipsticks and nail polishes, a bag of weed, books on the rise of fascism and Carl Jung's red book, an antique-looking switchblade, a Willy Wonka hat, condoms with little angry faces drawn on them, an old deflated football with "FIGHT" written on it, and... "What's that?" you ask, leaning down. Brian coughs.

"Oh. Yearbook from last year."

You pick it up, looking at all the little drawings of candy, needles, Charles Manson and other doodles he's defaced the book with. "But you didn't go to this school last year."

"I traded my mom's diet pills for it."

"Huh. Hustling already. Must have been some good stuff." You hesitate. The page was open to the photos of you as the lead in the play last year. You smirk, pretending to squint. "Is that a cum stain I see on my face?"

"You wish," he huffs, but he's blushing, hair curtaining around his face. You give him a look, turning fully toward him.

"Why'd you really invite me over?"

"To tell you I hate you, knock you out, and bury you in my backyard." You laugh.

"I mean, if you think about it..."

"It's the perfect plan. Invite the girl you've got a crush on over, assume she's gonna make fun of you, lure her in, then get your revenge." You smile, laying back on his bed.

"You just admitted to having a crush on me."

"Wasn't it obvious?" he asks. "I only ever threaten to kill the people I really wanna fuck."

"And do you really wanna fuck me, Bri?" you ask coyly, crawling dangerously close to him. He swallows, Adam's apple bobbing in his long, graceful throat. "You wanna fuck me right here, right now, while your parents aren't home, make me scream your name while you blare your favorite metal record and act like things'll never change?"

"That sounds good," he groans. His hands wander up your thigh, and you smile, bouncing on his leg. "...I also wanna share my music with you. Read a book over your shoulder. Maybe pop a few pills, key someone's car, grab a milkshake and look at the stars on Special K so we feel like we're floating, you know. Before I bang the shit out of you. Date stuff."

"Is this not our first date?" you ask. His tongue flicks up over his lip ring again.

"I guess you could say it is."

"Good. Cause I never fuck on a first date," you say, "Or so I tell people." He clenches his jaw, and braces a skinny arm beside your head, leaning down to capture your lips. His lips taste sweet, like mint and those sugary rocket candies. He takes his shirt off, and you rub your hands down, feeling a few scars. He lets out a whimpered noise at your touch, shuddering a little.

You make out and grind against one another for a few minutes, your hands pulling his hips closer by his black belt loops and his fingers tangling your hair. Your breath gets faster as he grinds harder, more desperately, and you reach a hand down to help him out, give him something to rut against.

"You feel so big," you moan, and he runs a hand through his hair, lips falling open.

"I'm gonna..." He makes another desperate noise, and you feel it right where you need him. But since all his condoms in here seem to be used or have faces drawn on them in scented marker, you opt for over the clothes stuff only.

"Use your fingers?" you breathe. He looks like he's about to cum, and you know it'll tip you over as well, what with all the times you had thought of him like this.

He reaches into your jeans, unzipping them, and messily finds your clit. For a teenage guy, he's not bad. He starts to rub, then reaches three fingers down to thrust them into you.

"Fuck, Bri! Three?!" you breathe. He looks into your eyes, not stopping.

"I thought girls were whores for that kind of thing!"

"It's..." you moan, "That's... oh... y-yeah... Jesus...” He really start to work them in, watching your reactions while rutting his clothed erection against your leg. "Fuck, Brian, grab my tits... yeah... this is just how I imagined it when I..."

He freezes for a second, and his whole body convulses. He gasps, and you see him reach down to cover his crotch, face going beet red. He doesn't stop, though. He keeps fingering you, and now that he's not worried about grinding, he can explore you in other ways. He attaches his lips to your neck, and sucks a hickie right below your ear.

“Brian... Bri, make me c--”

"Cum for me, you filthy little slut," he snarls, and you arch your back up, grinding down into his fingers as your orgasm hits. You rock through it, and he kisses you again, sloppy and hot. When he pulls away, he gives you your fingers to lick clean, which you do through a heated stare.

Things calm down into you laying back against his pillows with his stringy body tucked in a cramped position beside you. "I didn't know you were that..." you search for words. "Experienced?"

"What, you thought I was a virgin?”

You giggle. “I didn’t know what to think about you, to be honest. Kinky, inexperienced, I had no idea. Of course, I hoped that you were kinky.”

“I’ve been known to use restraints when asked,” he smirks.

“I’ve got that to look forward to. I thought you were cute too, though. I don’t care if you’re some devil worshipper who parents and teachers everywhere shiver at the thought of." He's quiet for a second.

"I thought you were scared of me."

"That too, a little bit. But what scares me turns me on." He rolls over to face you, a vulnerable position for him, you can tell.

"The way I dress is what I perceive to be beautiful. Looking like this, doing what I want to, it keeps the assholes who like to give my face their own version of plastic surgery away if they think I'm a Satanist who's gonna... cut off their mom's head or something if they fuck with me. Makes the hypocrites who call themselves teachers question their morals too, ‘teaching’ someone like me to be a good little boy and follow society’s rules. It’s all brainwashing, everything they feed us with their sugar and shit, and I’m the bad guy for standing up to it."

You stroke hair out of his face, and he looks up at you, lips pursed. "There’s always gotta be a scapegoat. I guess you fit that role.” You look beyond him. “You think it would ruin your image if those bullies found your poetry books?” He smiles.

“Nah. One day, I’m gonna grow up to be a big rock and roll star. I’ll use my own poetry and turn it into music, and I’ll look ten times more extreme than I do now. Then they can all say they knew me, and I’ll tell them to go to hell.”

You snuggle into him. "Mmm. Speaking of extreme... we should pull a Sandy and Danny. I'll come to school dressed all goth and shit Monday. Throw my friends for a loop."

"Does that mean I have to dress like a cheerleader?" he asks.

"You've got the ass for it."

He grins. "Stop it, you're making it very hard for me not to wanna fuck you for real right now."

"Here's the deal," you say, "I'll show you where I live this weekend. You tell me what your favorite fruit is, because that's a soul searching question. At that point we'll know each other better... and I'll be fair game."

He bites his lip. "I feel like I've known you forever."

"Yeah. Me too."

Just then, there's a knock at the bedroom door. Startled, you sit up quickly, and who you can only assume to be Brian's mom pops her head in. "When the fuck did you two get home?!" Brian blurts.

"About five minutes ago, honey. Don't worry, we didn't hear anything. Jeordie called, said he 'left the smoke bomb under the urinals.' I hope you aren't getting up to trouble like the last school, your father had a heck of a time getting you into this one.”

“Mom.”

“He had to switch jobs too, and with his back, you know how difficult long drives can be. Oh, how rude of me-- hello sweetie, you can call me Barb."

"Mom--"

"Brian, is this the sweet thing you had that dream about the other night?"

"MOM!"

“Hugh, Brian’s got a girlfriend over, we should turn the TV up to give them a little privacy.”

“GIRLFRIEND?!” a voice calls up, “GOOD ON YA, SON. THAT’S MY BOY!”

“Jesus fucking Christ...” Brian groans, burying his face in a pillow. You laugh so hard into his chest you nearly tumble off his bed. Most dangerous guy in school, your ass.

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creativewritingpracticestudio · 4 years

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Pretty Little Pin-Up Girl(John 5 x Reader)[Smut]

@send-in-the-clownss thank you for this amazingly creative request🥺I’m so sorry for the long, long wait, this was so cool to write! I really hope you like it! This is in 1998/99, before Marilyn and Dita got together(so John and him know who she is enough to confuse you for her, but not enough for her to be in the story.)

Description: While performing with Marilyn Manson at a concert, John 5 spots a woman in the crowd with a striking resemblance to Dita Von Teese. He’s immediately intrigued, and he makes it his goal to meet you after the show. The meeting goes..very well, to say the least.

Warnings: Smut, cursing, mentions of alcohol and drugs, typical edgy MM concert stuff

Permanent Taggers: @smokeandmirrorz @overlyobsessedfangirl @holyjunkie @slashevilsister @julessworldd @agroupiewhore @comawhxte666

“(Y/n), do you think Marilyn Manson will notice me in this outfit? Be honest.” You glanced up from your compact mirror and took in your friend’s outfit. Fishnets, black skirt, corset. “Definitely. Just put on some lipstick and you’re good to go!” Your friend nodded and grabbed a tube of black lipstick from her dresser. You finished applying your own blood red lipstick, examined it in the compact mirror, and smiled.

“How do I look?” You spun around once to give your friend a good look at your outfit. You’d styled your hair in a Marilyn Monroe-esque way, done your typical cat-eye and lipstick, and worn an elegant short white button-up cocktail dress with red heels. “Beautiful, but you look more like you’re going to a dinner party at Dita Von Teese’s house than to an MM concert.” You laughed. “Good. That’s what I was going for!”

Your friend shook her head. “You’re a strange girl, (Y/n). But we look amazing! Let’s go, I don’t want to be late. We didn’t get backstage passes for nothing!” She grabbed your arm and almost dragged you out the door, and within minutes the two of you were off. “I’m telling you, (Y/n), Marilyn’s gonna see me and instantly fall in love and break up with Rose McGowan for me!” You laughed. “I think John 5 is cuter, babe.” She playfully rolled her eyes. “Of course you do.”

———————-

The two of you had gotten front row tickets, which came with the passes, and were now standing right in front of the stage. “Dude, this is perfect! There’s no way Marilyn won’t be able to see me from here.” You nodded, checking your vintage pocket-watch. “It should be starting any minute now.” Sure enough, right as you said that, the lights went down and the people of the venue began to cheer loudly.

Your friend grabbed your arm and squeezed. “Marilyn!” You followed her eyes to see Marilyn coming from the side of the stage. You smiled, but your excitement wasn’t peaked until you spotted the blond guitarist himself, John 5, making his way behind Marilyn. You grinned, cheering loudly as the lights came back on and the first song began. They played the most popular songs from Mechanical Animals first.

About halfway through, they began playing Coma White, one of your favorite songs. You cheered, loudly singing along to the lyrics of the song; when the chorus came, you could have sworn that John 5 glanced in your direction and widened his eyes, but when you blinked he had turned his attention back to his guitar playing. Your friend elbowed your side. “Did John 5 just look at you?” You shrugged, slightly shocked.

Although you brushed it off as a one-time thing, this was soon proven wrong when the band began to play “User Friendly”, and John 5 started glancing over at you every few seconds with that same shocked look on his face. Clearly, something about you had caught his eye. The attention made you blush, and when he stared at you for a full 10 seconds during the chorus, you shyly waved at him and smiled. He smirked and waved back, a look of interest now clear on his face. He barely looked away again.

When the show finally ended, you and your friend made your way to the VIP area to meet the band. “I’m telling you, (Y/n), Marilyn looked at me a couple times. He has to be interested.” You smiled as she went on about how her and the singer were gonna get married and have two children together, still thinking about how John 5 had looked at you so much during the show. Surely it didn’t mean anything...right?

The two of you waited in line for about a half hour, excitement brewing up at the fact that you were going to get to meet your idols. Time passed very quickly, and soon enough the two of you were at the front of the line. You walked into a large room, where Manson, Twiggy, John 5 and the others were all sitting at a table with posters to autograph. John immediately perked up at the sight of you, and Marilyn shot him a look. Clearly, they had been talking about you.

Your friend excitedly walked up to Marilyn and began talking at a fast pace about how much she loved him and how great his show was. He looked completely overwhelmed, which Twiggy seemed to find hilarious. You slowly walked up to John 5, who was at the end of the table, and smiled. “Hello.” He smiled back, pushing his blonde hair out of his face as he leaned forward on his elbows. “Hello there. Did you like the show?” You nodded. “Yes, it was amazing! You’re a very talented guitarist, I must say.”

John’s smile widened, and Twiggy elbowed him in the side. “Ow! What?” Twiggy leaned over and whispered something in his ear, and John pulled away, glanced up at you and cleared his throat. “So, what’s your name?” You giggled and stuck your hand out to shake his. “It’s (Y/n). (Y/n) (L/n).” He shook your hand. “That’s a beautiful name. You know, I couldn’t help but notice, you remind me an awful lot of someone but I just can’t put my finger on it.” You smiled knowingly. “Let me guess. Dita Von Teese.”

He nodded. “Yes! That’s it. How’d you know?” You laughed. “I get that a lot. She was actually my fashion inspiration, so it makes sense.” You pulled out your vintage compact and checked your lipstick in it, and then put it back in your bag. John 5 looked impressed. “Good choice. She’s beautiful. Not quite as pretty as you, though.” You blushed and glanced down with a shy smile. “Oh, thank you very much. That’s so sweet of you.” The two of you awkwardly looked at each other for a few seconds, and Twiggy elbowed John again, this time much harder.

John 5 glared at him and mumbled, “Okay, okay, I get it!”, under his breath before turning back to you. “Say, why don’t you stick around and hang out with me for a little while after this VIP thing? Just for a couple hours or so.” You bit your lip in thought, feeling a wave of excitement at the fact that John 5 of all people wanted to hang out with you, and then nodded towards your friend. “She’s my ride home.” John smirked. “Aw, she can hang with Brian for a bit. Isn’t that right, Brian?” Marilyn glared at him warningly, but your friend gasped in excitement. “Yes, yes, fuck yes! Holy shit!”

John 5 had the two of you sit on the bench behind the band’s table while you waited, and your friend spent the entire time whispering very loudly to you about how she was gonna get dick from the Marilyn Manson. It was especially funny when Marilyn glanced back at the two of you with a slightly terrified look, and your friend immediately began whispering about how Marilyn had looked at her and that clearly meant he wanted to smash. The rest of the VIP took an hour, which you spent reading a pocket-sized book that you had brought along. Occasionally, John would look back and smile.

When the VIP was over, John 5 and Twiggy got up and walked over to you. “(Y/n), this is Jeordie.” You smiled and reached out for a handshake. “How do you do?” Jeordie didn’t reply, just smiled goofily and giggled. “He’s high, sorry.” You laughed. “That’s quite alright. So, where are we gonna go? I heard Marilyn say he’s going to the tour bus.” John 5 smirked and looked over at his singer, who was currently being suffocated by your friend. “Actually, I was thinking you and me could go hang out in one of the backstage rooms for a little while.” You nodded. “That sounds lovely. Is Jeordie coming, too?” Jeordie giggled again.

John grimaced and shook his head. “No way. Jeordie, you go with Brian and the rest of the guys.” Jeordie frowned and made a protest, but John shot him a death glare and he finally gave up and slumped away. John 5 held his arm out and grinned. “My lady.” You chuckled and linked arms with him, biding your best friend goodbye and telling her where to meet you at afterwards, and followed him to the backstage area of the concert. He led you to a backstage room, which contained a loveseat couch and a mirror vanity with tons of makeup supplies on it. “This is Brian’s. Don’t tell him we went in here, he’ll stab me with an eyebrow pencil.”

You giggled and crossed the room to the couch, sitting on it with one ankle crossed over the other. John sat beside you, staring at you with an awed look on his face. “What is it?” He shook his head with a grin. “I don’t know, I’m just surprised that someone like you came to a Marilyn Manson concert. You’re so elegant and classy and shit. I mean, most of the people who come to our shows are violent and trashy and all that, so you stuck out like a sore thumb. I like trashy and violent, of course, but you’re a nice change of pace. Do you have a boyfriend or a friend with benefits or anything? I just can’t imagine someone like you doesn’t have people lining up at her door trying to score a date.”

You laughed and shook your head. “No, I don’t have a boyfriend or anything like that. You’d be surprised, I don’t have that many suitors. I think the way I dress and act scares some people. And besides, I have a very specific type.” John 5 smirked. “And what would that type be?” You took out your compact and reapplied your lipstick, and then boldly shut it and smiled. “Oh, well, I’ve always had a bit of a thing for guitar players.” John’s grin widened, and he played along. “Really? Go on.” You crossed one leg over the other and pondered the subject some more. “I also really like blonde hair.” The guitar player raised an eyebrow. “Blonde? Wow. Continue.”

You struggled to contain your smile as the tongue-in-cheek conversation continued. “And there’s nothing I find more attractive than a guy in face paint. Do you know anyone like that? Guitarist, blonde hair, face paint?” John 5 pretended to think it over for a moment and then shook his head. “No, I don’t think I do.” You pretended to be disappointed. “Hm, that’s unfortunate. If I ever saw a guy like that, I’d probably just take my clothes off right then and there.” John 5 grinned and snapped his fingers. “Ah, now wait a minute. I forgot, I do know someone like that, he’s right here in this room!”

“Really?” You played dumb, looking around in confusion. “Where is he?” John reached out and cupped your cheeks in his hands and turned your face to look at him. “Right here.” You grinned, the two of you leaning closer to each other, lips just an inch apart. “Wow. You are my type.” John smirked. “So, what were you saying about taking your clothes off?” You grabbed him by the shirt collar and pulled him up to you, smashing your lips together in a passion-filled frenzy. His hands immediately went up to cradle your face, and yours wrapped around his neck. He pushed you down onto the couch, his body flat on top of yours, and you could feel his bulge already starting to form.

His lips never left yours as he moved his hands down to disappear under your dress, rubbing and caressing your thighs with his slightly rough hands and causing the skirt to move up to your mid-thigh in the process. His fingers lightly rubbed your clit through your panties, and you moaned into the kiss. He finally pulled away, lips slightly reddened from your lipstick, and smirked. “Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do this since I saw you in the crowd.” You smiled coyly. “Do it, then.” John pulled your skirt all the way up to expose your panties, and unbuttoned the front of your dress to expose your lacy bra. He immediately started groping at your breasts, pulling them out of the bra to squeeze them.

You moaned at the pleasure, and he pinched and teased your nipples with his skilled fingers. “Like that, baby?” You nodded eagerly, and he moved his hands away to instead pull your panties aside, immediately pushing a finger inside of you. “Fuck, you’re dripping wet. And your pussy is so fucking tight.” You spread your legs wider, and he pushed another finger inside you. You clenched around the digits and bit your lip. John reached down and palmed at his bulge as he took in your appearance, and you stared at it. “Need help with that, rockstar?” He grinned and nodded eagerly, and pulled his fingers out of you, sucking the juices off as he went to unbutton and unzip his tight pants.

You reached your hand into his pants to help him pull it out, and he moaned as you wrapped a hand around the base. It was at least 9 inches long and decently thick. You slowly pumped a hand up his shaft, rubbing your thumb over the tip, and he moved the head closer to your mouth. You took the hint and leaned closer, wrapping your lips around the tender head and suckling it. John 5 cursed under his breath and jerked his hips just slightly, and you could already taste his precum in your mouth. After a minute or so, he pulled you off his cock and smiled. “Better save it for the best part.”

You leaned back on the couch and relaxed, and he placed one hand beside you on the couch to steady himself as he used the other to line his cock up with your entrance. “Ready, baby?” You nodded eagerly, and he pushed inside you, immediately stretching your walls out as he kissed up and down your neck and played with your nipples to distract you from the slight pain. After a moment, he began a steady pace, fucking you slowly and roughly as he left a trail of hickies from your neck down to your breasts. “Faster, baby, fuck.” John went faster, holding your hips down with hand to steady himself.

You could feel the knot in your belly starting to come undone, and you pulled him down to smash your lips against his; he sucked on your bottom lip and leaned his forehead against yours, a look of pure bliss on his face. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight and wet, baby. So fucking sexy. You gonna cum for me?” You gasped in pleasure as his tip rubbed against your g-spot, and he smirked. “Right there, baby?” You nodded desperately and threw your head back as he began repeatedly hitting that same spot, and you could tell he was as close to cumming as you were. “Baby, I’m so close!”

“Cum for me baby, fuck, I’m close too!” Your pussy tightened around him as you came, moaning loudly as your toes curled and your eyes rolled back in your head. John 5 came almost as soon as you did, biting down on your neck as he filled your pussy with his cum. When the both of you had finished, heavily panting and worn out, he laid his head down on your chest and soaked in the feeling of his orgasm. “Fuck, that was the most incredible sex I’ve ever had in my life. You’re so fucking amazing.” He kissed your neck, and then pulled away, helping you button up your dress and pull up your panties and then helping himself.

You smiled bashfully. “That was amazing. You’re not so bad yourself..” You took your compact out to fix your makeup and your hair, and then turned to John, who had waited patiently by the door. “I wish we could spend some time together and cuddle, but Manson and the tour bus are leaving soon. Could I have your number? There’s no way I can just let you go without getting it.” You laughed and scribbled your number down on a scrap of paper, and then handed it to him and followed him out to the tour bus. Sure enough, Marilyn was standing in front of the bus, trying to get your friend to stop hugging him so tightly.

“(Y/n)! Me and Marilyn had so much fun together! What did you and John 5 do?” You and John exchanged a look, and you smirked. “Oh, you know, we just talked. Come on, we ought to get out of here now before traffic gets bad. You guys did an amazing set tonight, thanks for giving us some of your time!” John 5 hugged you goodbye; your friend tried to hug Marilyn, but he hurriedly ran into the tour bus and wouldn’t come out, much to Twiggy’s amusement. Your friend left to find the car, and as you were following her, you stopped to wave goodbye to John 5 and Twiggy, giving John a meaningful look that he returned.

“Call me.” You mouthed, and he nodded hurriedly. “Most definitely.” You blew him a kiss, and he caught it with a grin. You giggled one more time, waved to the both of them, and then turned and walked off gracefully to catch up with your friend. John 5 turned to climb back onto the bus, and Twiggy flashed him a drugged-up grin. “Damn, who was that girl? Looked like that one chick, what’s her name, Dina Van Fleece or something? Pinup girl.” John 5 shook his head with a laugh. “Yeah. She’s a pinup girl, Twiggy.” Twiggy boarded the bus, and John glanced in the direction you’d gone in. You were just a dot now, too far away to distinguish any features. John 5 whispered to just himself. “My pretty little pinup girl.”

#john 5 #john 5 x reader #john lowery #marilyn manson #brian warner #brian hugh warner #twiggy ramirez #jeordie white #ginger fish #tim skold #pogo #dita von teese #nu metal #industrial rock #industrial metal #john 5 smut #marilyn manson smut #marilyn manson x reader #madonna wayne gacy

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awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands · 4 years

Text

Sebastian Bach/Rachel Bolan/ Reader headcanons

A/N: I wanna dedicate these to @smokeandmirrorz becuase Jeordie is basically my brother and I just want him to be happy and he deserves all the good thing

Seb with you

- He's a goofball. He'll find every way to make you laugh, but during the moments when you shouldn't. This comes in handy when you're down. He's always there to cheer you up: usually he loves being a dumbass but sometimes he uses incredibly cheesy pick-up lines.

-He loves having his hair braided by you, and you love doing it. He usually ask you to do it when he comes back from the tour because :" I love Rachie but he doesn't do that like you do!"

-Sebastian is a child at heart, so he will drag you to the most childish places to do the most childish stuff. Not that you are complaining, since one time he took you and Rachel at Disneyland. You and him had the time of your lives, while Rachel looked completely lost and disgusted.

-You two do so many karaoke nights in. He always chooses for you his songs (he finds your voice so sexy), while you choose the most difficult ones for him (he nails them anyway).

-One time Seb heard Rachel singing, and he started screaming and pleaded him to start do it on tour too. The bassist accepted only after a promise of getting all the sex he wanted on the tour bus.

-You steal all his clothes. Maybe more Rachel's one but Seb's hoodies always seem to appear in your closet.

-Usually Seb takes you to a fancy restaurant or on the beach for a picnic. He’s really sweet with you and he constantly tell you how much is going to miss you when he’ll be away.

-This boy loves cuddles. He will constantly hug you, kiss you, pet your hair, tickle you, everything involving physical contact. He’s also a big fan of PDA, and we’ll find any way to make sure everybody knows that he loves you; Rachel sometimes pretends to be jealous and fake a pout, but he just finds it adorable.

-Many drunken nights. You think that the boys had it enough on tour, but they will still drag you to bars, on the weekends; they do the dumbest shits and you can’t help but find it hilarious. One time Sebastian started signing “Like a virgin” and he claimed that he was Madonna.

- He loves dragging you and Rachel to records stores. He’s just a little obsessed with Kiss, so he’s always on a hunt to find a recorder that he doesn’t have; you and Rachel absolutely love seeing him so happy and he spoils both of you with your favorite albums.

Rachel with you

- Rachel is less cuddly than Sebastian, but that doesn’t mean that he won’t show his love to you. He just likes do it privately, when you two ( or three) are alone at home; his hugs are warms and sweet and they are great for whenever you feel down.

- He’s really good with words, so usually he’ll try to cheer you up by reminding to you how amazing and worthy you are. Also he’s great at giving advices and he’s usually the one you go to when have a problem, or if you’ve argued with Sebastian.

- Your dates with Rachel are usually concerts, punk ones to be precise. You adore looking at him having fun and being so invested into music, he also has the little habit to sing quietly all his favorite lyrics. When Sebastian found it out, he teased him all the time, trying to make him sing.

- When you don’t go to concerts, you love to spend time in the house, lazily watching a movie in bed or having deep conversations. When Seb is also around, you three usually play board games or truth and dare; you are down to anything but the question “ Who do you love more?”

- You have basically stolen half of his clothes. Leather jackets? Gone. Leather pants? Gone. Beanies? Also gone. Rachel schools you but in reality he finds you so hot, so he lets you borrow them whenever you want. Actually sometimes he even stole some of your clothes.

- He has a weird obsession with you sitting on his lap; it doesn’t matter that you are in a empty room with plenty of seats, he wants you to sit on him. Sometimes he even takes both of you and Seb and you have still no idea on how he can do that.

- He loves to spend his free days at home, cuddling and watching some movies. He would bring you breakfast in the bed, spending the morning on the couch seeing a movie, ordering a pizza and just generally relaxing.

- He’s as much protective as Seb towards you, he always tries to hide you as much as possible from paparazzi and whenever some assholes tries to hit on you or say something bad, he’s ready to throw fists ( joined by Sebastian, of course).

- You two have this usual hobby of dye your hair with washable hair dye. One time Sebastian came home only to find a green-haired Rachel and a blue-haired you.

-He loves private backstage kisses, not because we wants to hide you from the boys, but because he loves the idea of being just the two, or three, of you !

Sebastian and Rachel

- At first they thought that their feelings were just connected to them loving you. Then one night, when they were both drunk, they kissed. They did it again the next day, but they were both sober this time. Eventually they realized that both also had a crush on each other.

- Rachel is also really protective of Sebastian, and if anybody dares to call him names, they better run. Sebastian had plenty of fights with random strangers because they have insulted his boyfriend; they always ends up cleaning each other’s wounds.

- Also lots of cuddles in the hotel’s rooms, because they will always share one. Sebastian is usually the sweetest of the two, and every morning he wakes up his Rachel with a kiss; sometimes Rachel bear hugs his boyfriend tightly because he loves to feel his warmth.

- Seb loves to display his affection towards Rachel, especially when he has to do it secretly, like during an interview. He'll find every sneaky way to hold his hands, play with his hair or playfully punch him. They’ll find any backstage’s place to share a sweet kiss, just to not be seen by any curious eyes. Rachel loves that, deep down. One time the bassist manages to surprise the singer, by literally giving him a super fast peck on the lips, before an interview.

- They constantly share and steal clothes from each other; every once in a while they found one of your shirt in their case, and they would start wearing it anytime off stage.

-When Sebastian is feeling down, Rachel tends to be as sweet as possible: lots of kisses, hugs, sweet words. Other time he doesn't say anything but just holds him tightly, playing with his hair

- They miss you so much. Even if they love their job and being able to do it together, they still miss you. They will call you at every given chance, reminding you how much they want you to be there, to hug you and to kiss you.

-Both of them will braid each other's hair, when they are in tour. But they both know you are the best one out of the three to do it; they miss that so much, so every time they are back home, they will ask you to do it!

- One time Seb took Rachel on a date to the Eiffel Tower, when they were in Paris; but it was 3.00 am and they were a bit tipsy, so they kissed under it, then Sebastian tried to climb it.

#sebastian bach #rachel bolan #skid #skid row fanfiction #fanfic #sebastian bach x reader #rachel bolan x reader #sebastian x rachel x reader #polyamory #80srock #80s rock band

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skold · 5 years

Note

Are you talking about sexually explicit fanfics with a minor?

i didn’t even know jeordie was a minor until AFTER we had already read each others fics and discussed fic stuff lmao so that ship has already sailed buddy

anyway i know the Tumblr Purity Police are gonna drag me for this but i genuinely don’t feel 16 is an inappropriate age to be writing/reading fictional written nsfw content and i feel that as long as there’s no personal sexual boundary crossed (which there HASN’T and WON’T BE bc he’s a MINOR) it’s okay to discuss fanfic shit with people of legal age at jeordie’s age.

i say this as someone who was groomed into a sexual relationship by an adult using fanfic when i was a minor and he was an adult. i’m cautious with how i handle my friendships w/ minors for that exact reason. i would never want someone to feel uncomfortable.

so yes me and jeordie talk about stuff we’re writing/going to write. but i also openly talk about that shit on here too and i KNOW some of y’all who follow me and read my fic are minors too. so.

(if this makes you uncomfortable or distrustful of me you’re welcome to unfollow because i understand, but i feel i’ve explained myself and my intentions enough)

#Anonymous

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legal-lost-boy · 6 months

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Happy halloween! 🎃👻🕷️

#me and my bestie wish you a good spooky week #saw #saw I #halloween #corpse paint #halloween costume #reverse bear trap #jeordie says shit

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trentsleatherboots · 2 years

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Dr. Strange: ITMOM was such a Sam Reimi film, I love that for him.

#also awesome bruce campbell cameo heehoo #the fact that he got to make a marvel movie with another evil witch book is so funny to me #evil dead all over again #and all the zombie/demons as well #VERY sam reimi #fuckin awesome #jeordie says shit #also FUCK yeah shoutout to America for having two moms and a lgbtq flag pin on their jacket

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starfxckersinc · 1 year

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+ idk, im sick in bed so I just need to vent today but he rlly did just treat me like garbage, repeating a lot of the same things jeordie said abt me and slamming me to his friends and it’s just like idk why we ever tried to be friends again. you literally took shit she said to me and threw it in my face and tried to guilt and bully me and it’s just. sad. bc now we have a lot of mutuals and I can’t just talk on my insta where all my friends are :/ bc I don’t want the drama and I don’t wanna lose a lot of cool ppl who r definitely never going to believe a word I say

#aberdeen spoken word

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headoverhiddles · 4 years

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You and Me and The Devil Makes 3 - Marilyn Manson x Brian Warner x Reader [Smut] - Part II

Synopsis: Both you and Brian can’t get the substitute teacher off your mind. Thankfully, Brian needs some extra help before an upcoming exam, and your regular teacher still hasn’t come back.

Notes: Long ass title. Anyway, someone asked for a sequel, so here’s more filthy Mancest ft you! IT’S FILTHY! We could all use the porn.

Part One

You bring your lips to your boyfriend’s, lazily making out after an hour of stressing the springs in his mattress.

A KISS record plays in the corner of his room. The afternoon sun seeps in over the countless Judas Priest and Nine Inch Nails posters all over the walls through the blinds that you’ve kept unturned. Both of you like the thrill of knowing Brian’s Christian neighbors might see you and your “filthy sex acts” again. Barb, Brian’s mother, hadn’t been too pleased after receiving that phone call, but Brian’s dad Hugh found it quite funny.

His parents liked you, called you a sweet girl. They don’t know much about Brian, and they don’t make much of an effort to—they know he’s into some dark music and he has a band, but they don’t know he’s interested in guys too, and they don’t know how far he wants to take his musical persona.

You’re also anything but sweet, but Barb and Hugh are well meaning, and you love them to death, always appreciative of the cake Barb feeds you when you visit the house. You think the two of them have some kind of idea that since Brian is almost finished high school, he’d take you somewhere and settle down with you. Neither of you want to settle down, but as far as either of you have shared, you have no plans of breaking up after grad.

You move your kisses down to Brian’s neck, and he keens under the attention, before reaching up to pull you back to his lips.

“I want you again,” you whisper, and Brian stares up at you.

“We just went four times, you brat.”

“But I’m horny.”

“And I’m soft, roll offa me. Gonna have to… watch some porn or something to get hard again…”

“This is better than porn,” you grin, unhooking your bra, and he pauses in his act of drinking down his bedside water glass, smiling too.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he laughs, and smoothes his hands up your rib cage to cup your breasts and fondle them. You lean down to drag them against his bare chest, and his hands move down to once again get himself ready to fuck again.

“So. We gonna talk about what happened on Friday?”

Brian’s breath hitches as he jacks himself to hardness again. “Do you want to?”

“I certainly think it raises some new… things, that we’re both obviously into.” Brian flushes a little, and you grin, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “Hey. You know you can be comfy with me.”

Brian nods, thrusting up into you finally with a hiss. “It was hot… the stuff he did.”

“I know,” you breathe, shuddering as you slide back down over him, “I just wanted the two of you to double team me forever.”

“So is this a thing, then?” Brian whispers, “Like, a third person?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, “We could explore a polyamorous relationship. But for now, I’m okay with secret threesomes involving hot teachers.”

“You think he’s still there?”

“I think before he left on Friday, he mentioned he’d be around for another week. Mrs. Nordman wasn’t just hungover, she had the flu or something. Why?”

“I mean… we’ve got that English exam coming up soon.”

You smile. “We could use the extra help, hm?” He groans at that, pushing up into you harder, and you tilt your head back, riding him into his bed.

---

At school on Monday, you meet Brian at the front doors. He’s standing with Daisy, waiting for his friend to finish smoking, and doodling something on his hand. You see it’s a bunch of needles and lollipops.

“You know, you should’ve been an artist,” you smile, taking his hand.

“I am an artist. Different kind.”

Pogo approaches, swinging himself up onto the railing. “Morning, you sad fucks. How’re the losers today?”

“Depressed,” Daisy answers.

“Good to hear. I myself am in a fucking marvelous mood, seeing as I banged not one, not two-- but THREE chicks this weekend at a college tit party. THE MAD CLOWN HITS HOME AGAIN!” He lets loose his usual flurry of crazy laughter, the sound that could tell anybody the bald student was coming from a mile away.

“How’d you manage that?” Brian mutters, amused.

“Sorry, Mr. Big Dick, some girls have refined taste, unlike (y/n) or Mr. Manson in there, don’t argue, I know you fucked him.” He pauses his manic rocking, leaning forward. “I also told them I was in a wildly successful rock band.”

“There’s the kicker,” you nod.

“I did not fuck Mr. Manson,” Brian protests. Everyone turns to look at him, and he smirks your way. “He fucked me.” Laughter erupts.

“No smoking on school property, you goth weirdos,” some kiss-ass cheerleader snaps as she walks past, and Pogo catapults Brian’s pen at her head.

“We’re gonna be late, hurry up.” Brian nudges Daisy.

“This is my last one, and I’m too broke to afford another pack until I get my next paycheck,” Daisy complains, savouring another drag.

“Here, lemme have a puff,” Pogo says, motioning for it. Daisy passes it over, and Pogo flicks it into the grass, pulling everyone inside. “Problem solved!”

You giggle as Daisy shakes his head, and all of you turn when you hear screaming. There’s Jeordie, running toward the school like an idiot.

“I’m gonna make it! I’m gonna make it!” he’s shouting, then the bell goes. He tosses his backpack to the ground, kicking it. “SHIT!”

---

It’s an uneventful Monday, until the last class. When you get in and sit down, Mr. Manson is at the front of the class already, writing the day’s class plan out. Today, he’s dressed in a black button up, with a black vest over top of black pants. His hair is brushed back in a fairly respectable style, and… he turns around. His lips today are a soft coral pink, with black and blue eyeshadow. Brian stares at him, in awe once again at the man’s swaggering confidence and style. Why is it that with bisexuality, it’s always a question of if he wanted to be the other guy, or be in the other guy? Or have the guy in him, as the case may be.

“Alright. Before we start, does anyone have any questions about today’s makeup?” Manson’s tone is playful, and a light titter of laughter comes from the students. He grins. “Alright. You sure?” More laughter. “Okay. Today, we’ll be covering a new chapter of literary theory, and applying it to the first act of Hamlet.”

His dark eyes sweep the classroom as he marks off attendance, and when they come to rest on you, he looks up. “Is there a reason why you and Miss (y/l/n) were late today, Mr. Warner?” Your entire friend group looks at the two of you. Your boyfriend just shrugs.

“Yeah, there was a reason.” You raise an eyebrow right back with a smirk, and Brian leaves it at that. You’re surprised when Manson accepts this without a cheeky little order to see him after class, but that’s fine. Brian has an excuse to see him anyway.

While Mr. Manson is talking, Brian writes out some lyrics for a new song he and the Spooky Kids have been working on. He nudges you, and taps the paper, which has a verse written out.

VCRs and Vaseline

TV fucked by plastic queens

Cash in hand and dick on screen

(who said god was ever clean)

He’s drawn a big question mark under it, so you give a little check mark on the paper, with the note:

Hot.

“I know this shit is boring, but pay attention,” Manson says from the front of the classroom, glaring daggers at you two.

“Imagine that lipstick all over my naked body,” you whisper in his ear. Brian glares at you.

“Stop trying to get me hard in class.”

“Why?” you tease.

“Cause it’s fucking working.”

“Do you one of you guys have an eraser?” Jeordie whispers (far too loudly) from behind you. You pass him back yours, and look at him sternly.

“Don’t pick it apart like you did all my other ones.”

“What did I just say?” Manson snaps from the front of the class.

“We were just—!” you try to protest.

“No talking. Last warning.”

You and Brian exchange looks. He’s in a mood today, and you can’t wait to see how the two of you can test him even more after class.

When the class is finished, you all wait until the rest of the students are gone. Pogo looks back at you two from the door, making obscene blow job gestures. Mr. Manson doesn’t look up from the desk.

“Did you need something, Mr. Bier?”

“Not me!” Pogo snickers, dashing off to go catch up with Daisy and Jeordie.

“Mr. Manson?” Brian asks, “I need a little bit of help with studying for the upcoming exam. I dedicate a lot of time to my band, and… don’t study as much as I should.”

“Mm. And (y/n)? You just gonna watch your boyfriend... ask for help?” Manson asks.

“I might learn a few things too, by sticking around,” you say, and lean forward against your desk. Manson’s eyes roam down to your cleavage, and he closes his book, getting up. He walks over to the door, locks it, and comes back over.

“The English exam. Yeah. As you know, I don’t know much about your curriculum, or really, about the exam itself.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t try to help us out,” you say. “Please sir? We really need help.” Mr. Manson looks at you, blue and black shadow making his hooded eyes seem supernatural.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Brian walks over to his desk, chin jutted out in confidence that will be lost as soon as Manson looks him in the eye. Sure enough, when the substitute gives your boyfriend one of his looks up and down, sweeping his entire body as if he’s a meal about to be devoured, Brian shudders. But he’s not about to lose his cool.

“See… I don’t get the whole psychoanalytic theory,” Brian says, putting the book down in front of Mr. Manson, “I don’t see how it applies to Hamlet.”

“Of course you pick the Freudian thing.” He sighs. “Well first, you have to understand psychoanalysis.” Manson looks over to you pointedly. “I’m sure you know all about Freud and his phallic symbols. You two had a lot of fun drawing them on your notes last Friday.”

Brian laughs a little at that. Wrong move. Manson gets up, and in one quick stride, he has your boyfriend pushed down and bent over the desk, ass up.

“What the fuck?” Brian mutters, but you can hear the whine at the end of his protest. Your legs rub together as your finger grazes your lower lip… you want to see how this turns out.

“Here’s what I’m gonna do,” Manson says slowly, “I’m gonna help you two, since you fuck around in class all the time and never pay attention.” He leans in close to Brian, and your boyfriend glares up at him for holding him in such a vulnerable position. Manson just smirks, and gets out a ruler from the desk. “Our angel over there is gonna answer some questions of mine, baby. Got it?”

“What do you—?” A sharp slap echoes, as Manson hits the desk with the ruler hard.

“You say yes sir, and no sir, or this desk will be that pretty little ass. Understood?”

“Yes sir,” Brian breathes, laying his face down on the desk. You raise an eyebrow, spreading your legs just a bit.

“You really have enough confidence in me that I know these answers?” you grin.

“Nah. I’m counting on you not knowing a single one, baby girl,” Manson smiles, and traces the ruler up Brian’s back. “But try your best. He’s counting on you.” Manson gets the ruler ready again. "Tell me what the basis of psychoanalytic theory is."

"It's a theory that draws from psychoanalyzing the behavior of the characters in the... in the story," you say, eyes trained on Brian.

"Good start," Manson nods, rubbing his hand up Brian's back, "Saved you this time, sweetheart." Brian makes a noise, akin to a moan, and Manson looks at you again, expectantly, from the depths of that eyeshadow. "What are some examples?"

"There's... a response to modern day literature from a new and improved perspective."

"Wrong," Manson says, "That's postmodernism."

“Aw. Guess that must’ve slipped my mind.” You shift in your seat, reaching down to touch yourself. Manson sees this out of the corner of his eye, and lifts his chin.

"Mr. Warner?"

Brian obediently pulls down his leggings just enough. Not satisfied with this, Manson pulls them down to his knobby knees, and hits him hard with the ruler. Brian's hips rut against the desk, and your pussy clenches as you rub faster circles.

"Again, sir," Brian whimpers.

"You want another one?" Manson asks.

"Yes, sir."

"(y/n)... your boy here's a bit of a slut."

"I'd have to agree," you grin, head rolling back as a moan is drawn from your throat.

"I guess I should know that by now. Have you ever tried fucking him?"

Brian's breath hitches, and you think about this. "He's never asked."

"Imagine how that'd feel, hm?" the teacher whispers in Brian's ear, "Her fingers inside of you... filling you up. You like that?"

"Fuck, fuck," Brian groans, hips pushing forward against the desk. He's painfully hard.

"Gonna cum in your pants?” Manson rasps.

“No...” Brian clenches his jaw. “Ugh...”

“What if she fucked you with three fingers? Spreading this perfect ass wide open?" he continues to tease, snarling, "What if I did? You like the pain, don't you? It turns you on." Manson spanks him again, harder, and you can see the red imprint he’s left.

"Yeah..." Brian moans, his usual grumble raising in pitch. "I want you both to fuck me."

"First, you get to watch." Mr. Manson looks over to you, and beckons. You make a show of teasing back, mouthing 'me?' Before Manson has a chance to threaten, you stand, walking over to the teacher. He stands a full few feet taller than you, the height difference still as hot as it was in the washroom the other day. He takes you by the shoulders, and brings his lips to yours. The kiss is sloppy and heated. You moan, sliding your hand down to cup his cock through his black slacks. You can feel the hefty erection respond to your touch, but you want to feel it inside you, fucking you. Brian watches, and reaches down to give himself some relief.

"Ah ah," you break away from the kiss to say, "Someone's being naughty." Brian shoots you a glare for ratting him out, and you blow your boyfriend a kiss as Manson turns to look at him.

"Do I have to tie you up, baby boy? Or can you stop those hands from wandering, hmm?" Hearing that in Manson's deep growl is such a turn on. You pull him back to you.

"Let him stay like that. If you spank him again, he's gonna cum all over the desk."

"Disgusting," Manson chastises, licking his lips, "Filthy filthy, Mr. Warner."

"At least I didn't take out my cock in class and start stroking it for you to see," Brian mouths off.

"I'm sure you would've loved to do that," you smirk, going back to stroking Mr. Manson through his pants.

"Mm. Yeah. Bet you would’ve loved to take it out, show everyone how hard you were. How ready you were for your girlfriend and your fucking teacher to take turns on you.”

"I..." Brian groans.

"Use your words, slut."

"Yeah," he breathes, "I might... I don't know, get embarrassed, but--"

"Sluts don't get embarrassed," Manson says sharply. "Besides, as a big rock and roll singer, I'd imagine that you do much worse onstage. Or am I wrong?”

“Tell him all the shit you've done onstage," you moan.

Brian shifts his hips, recalling everything he'd done during a show. Mr. Manson was right-- when he was onstage, it was as if he became a different person. A persona. Someone darker, maniacal even. Someone who's willing to do anything.

"I've fucked (y/n) onstage," he growls. "Fucked her til her tight little cunt couldn't take it anymore."

Mr. Manson takes his cock out of his pants, starts stroking it himself as you lay back on a desk in front of him. You watch his cockhead disappear in his fist with every stroke, licking your lips.

"What else?"

"I stripped her down naked in front of everyone... and ate her pussy."

"Oh god," you whine, picturing that night. You had both been so high you had forgotten there was even an audience.

"That must have felt good." Manson looks to you.

"It did. It did, and I love it," you murmur, glancing down to your exposed breasts, "Just like him. I wanna be filled by you, sir. Just like Brian fills me up."

Brian rolls his hips against the desk as Mr. Manson slots himself between your legs, dragging his cock between the folds of your pussy. "So fuckin' wet. It'll be so easy to get into you, baby girl."

"Please, Mr. Manson," you moan, “I need you.”

"Fuck her," Brian gasps out, "She's such a fucking cockslut, she needs it." You nod. Manson reaches his hand up to cup one of your breasts as he slides in, filling you to the hilt.

"Oh god," you manage out, hands grabbing at the edges of the small desk. Manson’s cock isn’t as long as Brian’s, but it’s thicker, so thick you can feel the pain of the stretch.

"Fuck," Brian whines, watching Manson pull out almost fully then pound back into you. He’s frustrated—he can’t touch himself, and his cock is heavy and weeping against the desk. He could cum from any little touch at this point.

"If you even think about touching your cock, the punishment will be unimaginable," Manson growls to your brat of a boyfriend. Brian groans in complaint, resting his head against the desk as he continues to rock his hips and watch. "Tell me more about how you fuck (y/n)," Manson says, thrusting in hard. The desk skids back a couple of inches, and you gasp. "Ah, nope. The principal could still walk by, baby girl. Don't want him to hear the three of us acting out our own little porno, do you?"

"No, sir."

"No. That's right. Mr. Warner? You were saying?"

"I fuck her all the time," Brian says, words tumbling out of his mouth as he loses his grip. "We fuck between classes, before class, after class. She always wants my dick.”

"Yeah?" Mr. Manson asks, humming low in his chest. "Seems like you just can't get satisfied baby, hm?"

"I get satisfied," you reply, grinding your hips down obscenely, "I just love his cock so much that I want it all the time. I love feeling full."

"Why don't we make good and sure you're nice and full then?" Manson beckons Brian over, not stopping his thrusts for a second. Brian’s surprised for a moment that he gets to move or do anything, but quickly complies. Manson’s belt jangles as he grunts, balls slapping your ass. "Give our baby girl a mouthful."

Your eyes light up, and Brian's lips quirk up. He loves watching you get used, and being a part of it is almost too much for him. He stands, and gets over top of your face, willing himself not to blow the minute he pushes between your pretty pink lips.

"Lemme see that nice cock, baby boy," Manson rasps. His breath hitches when Brian strokes his fist all the way up the length, over the head, and back down. "Mmm, perfect. Give her some, she looks thirsty."

"Take it, baby," Brian whispers, biting his lip as he smacks his cock against your lips, "C'mon, you know you want it."

"You know her safe word?" Manson mutters. Brian nods. You open wide for your boyfriend, and he slides his cock into your mouth, stopping before it hits the back of your throat. He raises his eyebrows down to you, and you nod again, feverishly. It's almost too much, the older man fucking you into the desk so hard and your boyfriend using your mouth to get off. But you love the thrill, and you're getting closer to your climax every second.

"You're doing so good," Mr. Manson says to you, stroking down your pelvic bone to caress your stomach, your clit, down to your inner thighs. Your hips buck. "Shhh. Taking us so good, sweetheart."

"Isn't it "so well?' You are an English teacher, right?" Brian asks, grinning. Mr. Manson shoots him a look daring to go any further with that. Brian knows his place, casting his eyes downward.

"You like to piss people off, don’t you?" Manson asks.

"Yeah. It's part of my, uh... my thing."

"Your thing right now is to quit being a smart ass, fuck your girlfriend's mouth, and do what your told."

Brian sucks his cheekbones in, biting his bottom lip hard as he feels his cock throb. "Yes, sir!" He gives a sarcastic mock salute with a big dumb grin, and that does it.

"Back over the desk."

"What?!" Brian's eyebrows furrow angrily.

"You heard me. Get back. Over. The desk. Now."

Brian whines, and removes himself from your mouth. As he's walking back over though, the fearless streak continues. He fondles Mr. Manson's bare ass as he walks by, clucking his tongue. "Damn, daddy. Great ass, for an old man."

You smirk, knowing it'll get a rise out of the teacher. But he just goes back to fucking you-- albeit much faster.

"Oh... oh yeah. Oh god," you hiss, trying still to keep it as quiet as possible. Mr. Manson's short black hair falls from his coiffed mohawk and into his eyes as he starts to get close. "I'm gonna fucking cum," you moan, tits bouncing in your bra. Manson pushes in one more time, and you cum hard on his cock, mouth falling open.

He pulls out of you when you're finished, and Brian comes over, kneeling down and taking Mr. Manson's cock into his mouth. He suckles for a few seconds, then takes him down all the way as the older man shudders, buries his fingers into your boyfriend's hair, and cums down his throat. Brian swallows, blinking up at the teacher, and Mr. Manson looks down at him, at the teenager’s painfully swollen cock resting on his thigh.

"You've been a good boy," he mumbles, “Helped daddy cum. I think you deserve something.” Brian's eyes flutter shut, and Manson strokes his cheek. With a gasp from the touch alone, Brian suddenly cums untouched all over his leg and the floor. You watch him convulse through every wave of his orgasm, then rest back on his hands when he finishes.

Manson sits on the edge of his desk, and you stand, helping Brian clean up. He runs a hand through his long black hair, and fiddles his tongue against his lip ring.

"You know... you should come check out the Spooky Kids in concert sometime."

Manson runs a hand through his hair, making sure he looks his best-- comfortably disheveled. "Your band?"

"Yeah. You were in a band yourself, weren't you?" Brian smirks.

“Yeah.”

"As long as you bring some good, uh... you know, nose candy-- gotta make the sacrificial offerings to the band-- then feel free to show up."

“He doesn’t do nose candy, bring some ring pops and lollipops and that’ll be more than sufficient,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“What makes you think I've got drugs on me anyway?" Manson deadpans. "I'm a fuckin' high school English teacher." Brian stares at the debauched man with lipstick smeared down his chin and hair standing up from all angles. Manson bursts into what can only be described as giggles. "Yeah. Well, I’m not about to give my drugs away to a group of 18 year old musicians. Then you’d turn out just like me.”

“That wouldn’t be so bad,” Brian teases, tugging slightly at the silver skull brooch on Manson’s lapel. Manson strokes his knuckles.

“If I'm still in town, I'll see if I can make it to a show. You seem like you’d be good. Like you’ve got rock star in your blood.” It’s as if Brian’s whole body blushes—it’s freaking cute you think, as you fix your hair. “--But only if I get to come backstage with the rest of the groupies."

"Oh," you smile, approaching to fix Mr. Manson’s black tie, "We'll be waiting for you."

“Who else is in this band?” Manson asks out of curiosity. “Anyone else from this class?”

“Stephen, Scott, Jeordie. Another kid named Freddy, doesn’t go here.”

“Bier is crazy enough to be in a band, I’d believe that. Putesky, that’s interesting. He doesn’t seem the type. He seems like he’d be the type to yell at people like you to turn the music down.”

Brian nods, “Yeah, we tell him that all the time. He looks like someone’s grandpa. He shreds on the guitar, though, you’d be surprised. So does Jeordie.”

Manson huffs, getting his bag together, “Jeordie? That doesn’t surprise me as much.” The substitute teacher lets you two out of the classroom, and checks the time. 4 PM now. “Well. I hope you feel ready for the exam. I didn’t do shit to help you, but...”

“We got what we needed to,” you say, fixing your skirt with a small smile.

“Good. Cause I think you’ve got a pretty good idea of what’ll happen if you get a fuckin’ F.”

#marilyn manson #marilyn manson x reader #reader x marilyn manson #brian warner #brian hugh warner #brian warner x reader #reader x brian warner #spooky kids #spooky kids era #marilyn manson and the spooky kids #heaven upside down #heaven upside down era #mancest #by request #teacher student #teacher au

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creativewritingpracticestudio · 4 years

Text

Leave You Low(Twiggy Ramirez x Reader)

Era: Mechanical Animals era(1998).

This one is based on the request of @headoverhiddles <3 sorry it’s not great but I’m learning!

In this, you are Twiggy’s girlfriend and a guitar player for the band. The both of you are addicted to drugs, although you heavily deny it. One night, the drugs result in you and Twiggy having meltdowns on stage, and you’re forced to come to terms with the fact that you can’t continue this behavior.

Remember to send in requests for more Marilyn Manson x readers and Twiggy Ramirez x readers! Smut warning. This ones long, sorry.

Of all the places you want to be right now, performing on a brightly lit stage in front of tons of people with deafening sounds all around you isn’t one of them. You and Jeordie have just got done with another “date night”. That is, snorting lines, binge-eating, vomiting, and fucking.

Your head is pounding, body aching, stomach turning, mouth going dry and metallic. You feel like you’re gonna pass out. Looking at your boyfriend, he isn’t doing much better. Even for an experienced drug user, he’s done too many lines in one sitting. Unfortunately, there are no sick days in rock and roll.

You stumble over to your boyfriend, who is laying out on the dingy couch, eyes half-lidded and fingers twitching. “We’re on in 15, baby.” You lean down and pull him up from the couch. He staggers around for a second, and then leans against the wall, eyes closed. “Think we overdid it?” He shakes his head, and mumbles under his breath. “Wanna see a magic trick?”

You nervously say yes, and he steps away from the wall and lazily holds his arms out at his sides. “Ta-da.” Is that the trick? Holy shit, you two have definitely gone too far. “Um, very nice, baby. Good job.” He grins gleefully at the praise, and then promptly turns, leans down, pulls his hair back, and vomits on the floor. You flinch, and then quickly walk to comfort him. This is far from a rare thing.

When he’s done, you wipe his mouth off with a napkin and rub his head as he leans against your shoulder. “Sorry, baby. I think I did too much.” You shush away his apologies. “It’s okay, baby. We need to go now, Brian is probably pissed at us.” He agrees, and the two of you walk out of the room to find the rest of the band, heads spinning and arms on each other’s shoulders for support.

Brian automatically knows that the two of you are fucked out of your minds. “Where the hell have you two been? We’re on in 5. How much cocaine have you assholes done, you look fucking awful.” Jeordie looks hurt, but you roll your eyes. “Chill. You do cocaine all the time.” “Yeah, but I know my limit. You assholes fucking don’t. Now come on, dickwads. You better not pass out on stage. Vomiting is fine. But no passing out.”

You roll your eyes as he saunters on stage. What an asshat. Jeordie pipes up, his head resting on your shoulder, sounding on the verge of tears. “Is he mad at us?” You look down at your doped-up boyfriend, smile reassuringly, and shake your head, ignoring your own dizziness and naseua. “Of course not, baby. He’s just in a bad mood. Come on, let’s go.” The two of you stumble on stage, and you brush off Brian’s harsh words. Brian’s just paranoid. You and Jeordie are fine. Everything is fine.

———————————————————————

As it would turn out, everything is not fine. Things start to go downhill from the moment you and Jeordie get on stage. The lights are extremely bright and the fans and instruments are extremely loud, making your migraines and stomach aches worse. You haven’t gotten a migraine from drugs since the first time you and Jeordie used it. Not to mention, Jeordie’s so out of it that he almost misses several notes. If it weren’t for muscle memory from playing the songs so much, you two would be messing up almost every other note.

The stage is spinning, the fans are spinning, you’re spinning, Jeordie’s spinning. When it’s time for the finale, you know that you and Jeordie are absolutely fucked. The lights and strobes become 10x more intense, the fans scream as loud as they can, the song is the loudest one possible: Angel With The Scabbed Wings. Brian’s been giving you and Jeordie angry looks through the performance. Jeordie looks like he’s gonna throw up his entire stomach and intestines. You feel your legs start to give out underneath you. Oh Shit.

About 30 seconds before the song ends, everything finally comes to a head. Jeordie slams his bass down on the ground repeatedly and violently retches on its remains before tripping over his feet and falling flat on his back, legs up in the air. The crowd cheers louder, and you realize with a start that they think it’s an act. Which makes sense. Jeordie does stuff like that a lot.

Knowing you’re about to pass out, you follow suit, slamming your guitar violently on the ground, falling to your knees and throwing up. The song ends. Brian looks back to see why you stopped, and you can already tell you’re gonna be in for some deep shit for your little stunt when you get off the stage. But, he goes along with it and turns back to the fans, milking the finale for all it’s worth. As the crowd continues to cheer, Brian throws his mike down and storms off the stage.

The rest of the band have smashed their instruments in a panic to hide that the outbursts weren’t planned. Ginger hurriedly helps you to your feet, and John hoists your skinny boyfriend over his shoulder and carries him off the stage as he mumbles something about dog clothing and cupcakes. As soon as you’re out of view of the crowd, Brian kicks over a speaker and whips around to face you as you clumsily attempt to get your wasted boyfriend on his feet. “What the actual fuck was that?” You grit your teeth and turn away from his scary glare.

“Relax. The crowd thought it was a part of the show. Twiggy’s thrown up before, and we smash shit all the time.” Jeordie falls on his ass and stares up at the ceiling. “Yeah, and that shit is planned. That just looked stupid. Twiggy doesn’t usually get carried off the stage when he does that, and now we’ve wasted the instruments we were gonna smash in the next show. I don’t even care about that. You two need fucking help.” You blink. “What?”

“You two need fucking help. I wasn’t gonna say anything until after the tour, but this shit has to stop. You two have a fucking drug problem. I don’t care if you snort cocaine, just don’t do it so often it melts your fucking minds. I swear, every time I turn around you’ve got a straw up your fucking nose. Only addicts use straws. I’m getting you two checked into a rehab facility first thing after the tour is over. I’m not firing you and I’m not asking. You two are getting clean.”

You stare at him. “Brian, it’s not like we haven’t smashed shit and thrown up on stage before, you’re overreacting-” “That’s not the only thing I’m talking about, goddamn it! You two literally live off of cocaine, it’s all you ever do! You’re both addicted and you need fucking help. I’m not arguing with you. I don’t want to lose another band member to this shit, I already lost Brad. Both of you get the fuck out of here now and go back to your hotel. You’re not staying for the after-party. You start rehab in a week, I already have you both scheduled to check in.”

You start to fire back, but stop. It’s pointless to argue with Brian. You grab Jeordie from the floor, pull him up, and lead him out the door. As you walk out, you hear Pogo start to try and reason with Brian. You know it won’t work, but you appreciate him trying. The hotel is across from the venue, so the two of you stagger across the street, wincing at the bright lights of the passing cars. You go up to your room, and Jeordie slumps onto the bed and curls up into a ball. “You okay, baby?” You glance at him with concern.

“Yeah. We really fucked up, didn’t we? Do you think he’s right?” You sigh, and go to your bag to grab you and Jeordie’s pajamas. “Honestly..I think he’s got a point. We’ve never been that fucked up on stage before. And I don’t think there’s been a single day in our relationship where we both weren’t high. I mean, for God’s sake, our date nights are just snorting lines, binge-eating, throwing up and passing out. Going to McDonalds and shoplifting at Walmart if we feel romantic.”

Jeordie is quiet for a minute. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” You’re trying not to cry, but your shoulders are starting to shake. Jeordie sits up, alarmed. “What’s wrong?” You wipe your nose with your arm, walk over to the bed, and sit next to Jeordie, hugging him tightly. “He said he doesn’t want us to end up like Gidget did. I don’t wanna end up like him. We really can’t do this anymore, Jeordie.” He just nods, and hugs you back tighter still. After a minute, you pull away.

“He’s right. We have to go to rehab. It’ll be okay..we’ll at least be together. And we can still smoke weed. And he’s not firing us. It’ll only take a few months. Let’s just get some sleep, baby.” You get up, walking back over to the crumpled nightgown on the floor, and peel off your tank top and jeans. “Fuck.” You turn around, and Jeordie’s hardcore staring at your naked body, his bulge obvious through his tight dress. He gives you a puppy dog look.

“Jeordie, baby, it’s late.” He whines softly, grabbing at his hard-on. “Please? It’s been so long, and I get really horny when I’m high, and you have the greatest tits I’ve ever seen on a-” You interrupt him by sitting on his lap and pulling him in to kiss you. He groans against your lips, grabbing your hips and moving your body against his aching cock. His hands tangle up in your hair, and you pull away long enough to fumble with his dress, hurriedly throwing it aside.

He lifts up so you can wriggle him out of his boxers, and you quickly wrap your hands around his dick, feeling it harden even more in your warm grip. You pump your hands up and down, twisting over the head and rubbing the tip with your fingers, his precum allowing for quick movements. His eager moans egg you on, and you feel your pussy clench, knowing you’re already getting wet. After a minute, he stops you. “Can you put your mouth on it, baby?”

You nod eagerly, and he gently pushes your head down. You force as much down your throat as you can, swirling your tongue around the head and licking long lines up and down his shaft and squeezing and rubbing his balls in your free hand. He throws his head back, moaning loudly and forcing your head down more. After a few minutes, his breathing becomes erratic and he pulls you off. “Can’t cum yet, hehe.” He gives you a goofy grin, and you playfully roll your eyes.

He goes for your bra, pulling it off and lovingly admiring your breasts before leaning in, licking and sucking on your nipples as you squirm and whine in his lap. You push his head closer to your body and stroke his hair as he leaves a hickey between your boobs and gently pushes you down onto the bed, moving down to your hips. You clench your thighs together, moaning softly at the pleasure. He rubs two fingers against your wet clothed pussy, and your moans get louder.

He pulls your panties aside and mumbles appreciatively. “You’ve got such a pretty little pussy, baby.” You gasp at the words, face heating up with lust and slight embarrassment. He sounds almost sober. He leans down, a hand on each thigh, and runs his tongue along the outside of your dripping wet heat. You squirm and instinctively buck your hips against him, and he repeats the action, licking up your wetness and gently pushing a finger inside of you as he teases your thighs with his tongue.

He works on your g-spot with his finger as his tongue works around your clit, and then adds another finger. Maybe it’s the drugs, or how tired you are, or just how desperate and horny you are in the moment, but you cum quickly, much quicker than usual. He cleans your pussy out, and licks his lips before aligning his cock with your hole and pushing in. “Oh fuck! Holy shit, Jeordie, harder! Fuck me harder, baby!” He grins at the encouragement and obliges, his hips snapping against yours in a quick pace.

His hand closes around your neck, and he presses down just slightly. God, you love it when he does that. “Who does this pussy belong to? Who do you belong to?” “Y-you, baby! Only you! This tight little pussy is all for you!” His hips begin to stutter, pace going erratic. “That’s right. Fuck, I’m about to cum. Say my name, baby.” “Jeordie!” His hand tightens around your neck, his hips slam into you roughly, his other hand begins to finger your g-spot again. You feel a heat form in your belly. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby!”

“That’s right, baby, cum for me. Cum on my cock, baby.” You throw your head back, gasping his name one more time as your orgasm washes over you. He cums at the same time, and you feel it dripping out of you as he sighs and tiredly lays his head against your neck. “Thank you, baby.” You rub his back, lightly scratching it with your nails. “I need to get up and pee, baby. Come with me, we can shower and clean up.”

He nods, and you pull him up. He, surprisingly enough, doesn’t stumble. “Are the drugs wearing off?” He nods. “You know, being sober probably won’t be all that bad. I feel pretty sober right now. Not too bad. Thirsty, though.” He picks up a bottle from the counter and chugs half of it down.

“Jeordie, you just drank perfume.”

#marilyn manson #marilyn manson and the spooky kids #brian warner #brian hugh warner #twiggy ramirez #twiggy ramirez x reader #jeordie white #jeordie white x reader #rock music #industrial rock #industrial metal #madonna wayne gacy #marilyn manson x reader

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