#manscest

[headoverhiddles]

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

Synopsis: Your boyfriend Brian is horny for you all class, but the substitute teacher, Mr. Manson, is onto you two.   

Notes: Hear me out-- it was a teacher/student au request that got out of hand in my ask box and turned into Manscest. That is all. Enjoy the shameless filthy threesome with... two of them.

Part Two

You had promised yourself you were going to be a good girl, and focus in class today. 

You're less than a model student, and sitting right in front of your boyfriend doesn't help that fact. So today, since there was a test coming up in three days, you had made the productive decision to sit across the room from him. As you all wait for the teacher to arrive, Jeordie plunks down next to you wearing a Bauhaus shirt, hair wild as usual and English books all crumpled and doodled to hell.

"Have you ever seen a turtle take a shit?" he whispers to you. You sigh. So, you wouldn't be getting anything done today either. 

Brian glances over at you from the other side of the classroom, pouting. He likes putting on a tough act, but the truth is, he's a needy motherfucker. Pogo's sitting next to him, along with Scott, or Daisy as you all call him, who's probably the only one in your friend group who actually cares about being here. You stick your tongue out at Bri in response, and he gives you the finger. Smiling, you turn back to your blank page, then look at the time. It's 5 minutes after class should have started, and Mrs. Nordman is never late.

Over on the other side of the room, Brian doodles a couple hearts with spirals in them on his page. Pogo looks over his shoulder. 

“You gonna start writing out “Brian (y/l/n) beside those hearts, dude?” he grins. Brian glares at him. 

“Yeah, right next to you deepthroating a knife.” Defiantly, the eighteen year old draws even bigger hearts, then starts sketching a mutilated corpse. 

The door opens, and an unfamiliar face walks in. Everyone keeps chattering loudly as the man walks toward the desk, and still while he writes and underlines his name on the board. He then turns around, and you get a better look at him. He's very tall, just like Brian, but has more of a fuller figure than Brian's own stick thin frame. He must be at least 20 years yours and his senior. He's dressed in a black suit, has closely cropped black hair, painted fingernails, and sunglasses on. 

Different than most substitute teachers, you note right off the bat. 

"Who does this guy think he is?" Jeordie murmurs. The song Sunglasses At Night fills your head as you watch him in amusement. He's attractive. He's got a subtle purse of his lips (which are filled in with plum colored lipstick) and fingers that are tattooed with alchemical symbols. Definitely not a run of the mill sub. You wonder what your boyfriend thinks of him.

Brian inspects the teacher, admiring his makeup. He looks great-- confident, sexy, and ready to fuck up anyone who disagrees. Everything Brian himself aspires to be. 

"What's with the makeup, man?" someone from the back of the class asks the teacher. "You into dudes?" 

The new teacher finally speaks, looking out around the class and zeroing in on his target. "Why? Do you wanna fuck me?” You smile, and hear Brian choke out a laugh. The teacher turns to him, and despite the playfulness in his eyes, asks the question. "Something funny?"

"No," Brian says calmly with a smile, "That was just a, uh. A good comeback."

The teacher's lips turn up ever so slightly as he takes in the younger man’s goth, slightly extravagant appearance. "I live to entertain." 

He turns away to the board, tapping it. "Mr. Manson. That's what you can call me. I'm filling in for Mrs. Nordman, she had a little too much fun last night and needs a day off to vomit and cry."

"You’re name’s Manson?" Pogo pipes up, "Like the serial killer?" The class laughs.

"Very good, Mr..." he checks the list, "Bier. You know your American history.”

“I’m more partial to John Wayne Gacy,” Pogo responds.

“Gacy was an interesting man. Interesting inclinations. Manson used to be my stage name."

"Stage name?" Brian is suddenly interested, setting his sketching aside. He's started a band of his own with the guys, and is interested in everything to do with music and art.

"Yeah. I used to perform.”

“Were you a stripper?” one kid snickers. Mr. Manson doesn’t seem bothered by the question at all.

“You could say that. Now and then when I'm in between gigs, I do some work on the side, which is why I teach.”

“Can you teach me how to work a pole?” a girl laughs. Mr. Manson rolls his eyes lazily over to her.

“You look like you know how, sweetheart.” This shuts her up, and a blanket of awe falls over the class.

"You can't even take your sunglasses off indoors, how can we expect you to teach us anything good?" another girl scoffs.

"A night of drugs and vodka would prevent you from taking these off too, believe me."

This gets some genuine laughs from the class, and people start to warm up to him. He’s sarcastic, witty, and seems to not really give a fuck what he says and if he’ll get in trouble for saying it. You like that. You look Mr. Manson up and down, smirking, and turn to see your boyfriend chewing on his lip ring thoughtfully. Jeordie leans in.

“Alrighty. He’s kinda awesome.”

Class starts as usual, Mr. Manson adapting to the textbook and teaching what he needs to. About an hour in, a crumpled up note hits you in the head.

I miss you.

You roll your eyes. It’s only been sixty minutes. 

Another note comes your way.  This one bounces off Jeordie's head, waking him up before it hits your desk. He reads it and snorts, tossing it to you.

Come over here and give me a blow job baby?

Bri's also drawn a little doodle of you two in the cartoon style he’s used on all his Spooky Kids band flyers, you with your mouth around his very large penis while cartoon-him leans back and smiles. It's your turn to give him the finger, though it makes you smile when you see him pouting pleadingly. 

Before you realize it, Mr. Manson comes by and plucks the note off your desk. He smirks over at Brian. 

“You sure this is proportionate, Mr. Warner?” 

Brian ducks his head shyly. “I’d like to think so.” 

“Mm. So it’s open to interpretation? All good art is.” Manson tosses the note back onto the table, and gives you a look. 

“Sorry,” you whisper to him, biting your lip.

“Nah, it’s fine. I’d be drawing pictures of my dick too, if it was that big.” You giggle.

"So you're not mad?"

"I’m never mad. Just get back to work. If I turn around and see an empty seat..." he gestures to the note, "I'll know where to look."

You spread your legs a little-- just a little. "I hope you like what you see, sir."

He just turns back to the front of the class, clearing his throat. “Remember, if anybody needs any help with anything, just come up to me. I can’t guarantee I’ll know the answer, but I’ll pretend like I do and... let you all think I’m a good teacher.”

More laughter-- a good cover-up for your comment apparently. When Mr. Manson turns his back, Brian tosses another note to you, this one missing Jeordie's head thankfully, and in exasperation, you open it. More drawings of you two in various sexual positions? You read the note.

Turn him on.

You look up at him, frowning. What? Is he actually giving you permission to get the teacher hard? Brian nods at you, and you look back to the teacher. He'd better not be planning some kind of prank. This seems different though. Brian seems to like Mr. Manson.

Well, you can't exactly deny you want to do this. There are benefits to having the same taste in men as your boyfriend, and both of you get to enjoy those.  Mr. Manson seems pretty level headed. Maybe you'd have to work for it... and the best way was to be a bad, bad girl. You look back to your boyfriend, nodding.

"Sir?" you put your hand up, waving. Manson looks up.

"Mhmm?"

"I've got a question."

You toss a note to Brian. He opens it, and reads your request. He nudges Daisy, and whispers something. Daisy reluctantly agrees, and passes one of his cigarettes and lighter to the guy next to him, who passes it over, over, over, until it reaches Jeordie.

"Thanks, but I don't smoke," he tells the girl who passed it to him, and you whack him in the thigh.

"It's for me!"

"You don't smoke."

"Just fucking go with it, Jeordie!"

He shrugs, and gives it to you. You clear your throat, and hold it between your fingers as Manson finally looks up from his papers expectantly.

"Can I go out for a smoke?"

Mr. Manson hesitates, obviously put off by the question. "You're a respectable young lady, you shouldn't be smoking." It's obvious he's being sarcastic.

"At least I’m not doing lines off my textbook.” You quirk an eyebrow in challenge, a dig at him and his assumed lifestyle outside of teaching. He sighs.

"No."

You feign offense. "No?"

"You heard me, sweetheart," he drawls, "I think it's time someone told a little brat like you no."

Ignoring the throb in your pussy you got from that statement, you keep the act going.

"Fine. If you won't let me..." You snatch the lighter, and before you can really think about what you’re doing, light your lined booklet on fire. Jeordie stares at you in shocked excitement, starting to wonder why the fire alarm hasn’t gone off yet. Stupid broken down old school’s gonna kill you all one day, probably from a prank he initiated with Bri and the guys. 

Mr. Manson's jaw clenches, but you just let the book burn, holding it up. The class is transfixed, unable to look away as you let all the paper burn. Manson isn't about to stop you, the two of you in a staring match. Finally having burned it down to ash, you drop the remains of the book right on the desk, and cross your arms, the action plumping up your breasts over your tank top. 

Manson stares at you, and takes his sunglasses off to reveal smokey, black lined eyes. "You think you're clever, huh?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Test me one more time, honey." 

That sends shivers through you, and over at his desk, Brian feels warmth travel down to his groin. He shouldn't be getting aroused watching his girlfriend talk back and flirt outright with the teacher, but both of you are so sexy. He starts imagining what it would be like fucking you while sucking Mr. Manson off.

More blood rushes down to his cock, and he looks down with a hot blush to see a growing bulge in his black jeans shorts. At least he has the leggings underneath to restrict him, but currently, it's not a great situation. He looks around, biting his lip as he takes the heel of his pencil and forces it against the base of his dick.

Then he looks over again, sees you sitting there, brows furrowed as you say something argumentative, from those soft pink lips. And fuck, Mr. Manson looks so angry, his jaw clenched. What you two could do to him... what he could do to you.

Brian suppresses a whine, trying his best to slouch even further under the desk so that he can hide his boner. He gives himself a quick rub for relief that could easily be passed off as a typical scratch, but his position is making things weird.

"Geez, man," Daisy whispers, nudging him, "At least try to stay awake in class." Brian sighs, staring at the clock and willing the hands to move. One wrong move here and he'd cum in his pants.

"Mr. Warner."

Brian's gaze shoots up. Oh no. "Yeah?" he tries to seem careless and calm in replying. Mr. Manson looks at him.

"You seem upset. You need to see a nurse?"

"A psychiatrist, more like," Pogo interjects, and any other time, Brian would tell his friend to shut the hell up, but right now he's glad for the distraction. Manson abandons the subject as a result, and turns back to his work.

You wiggle in your seat, throbbing and soaked through your panties. You want to get him mad again like that, make him really wanna punish you.

You try to think up what your grand finale should be. You can’t think, however, due to your arousal, so you get up from your desk instead. 

“Mr. Manson?”

“What?”

“Can I use the washroom?”

“You’re not gonna smoke in there and get me in trouble for letting you, are you?”

You smirk, adjusting your hair. “I don’t smoke.” As you head toward the door, you motion inconspicuously for Brian to follow. You hadn’t had him for a few days now, and after all that flirting with the teacher, you're more than a little wet. 

Once you leave, Brian shoots a spitball through a straw at Jeordie, who wakes up again, looking around. He sees Brian motion to him, and through their unspoken best friend code, Jeordie knows what to do.

“Uh, sir?” Jeordie puts his hand up, and Mr. Manson walks over. “Yes, how do you, uhh… know the difference between thee, thy, and thine in Macbeth speak?”

 While Manson is distracted, Brian makes his escape. He darts out the door, and grins to himself, sticking his hands in his pockets as he walks briskly toward the boy’s washroom. He lets his hair cover his face and fall over his Route 666 T-Shirt as he enters, hunched over, just in case there are others who could identify him. It’s thankfully empty… save for you. 

“Baby,” you smile.

"God, I wanted to get my hands on you all morning," he murmurs, hurrying over. "All I could think of was what this pussy feels like, got a fucking erection in class."

"Did you wanna jack off under the desk?" you ask, nipping at his bottom lip. He groans.

"Yeah. Need you, need to fuck you so good."

"Fuck me so we can get back quick," you giggle. He unzips his shorts, pulling down his leggings as well, and he kicks your legs apart, you facing the wall. He tugs your panties down, licking his lips, and teases your folds a little with the tip of his dick. 

“So wet, huh? All wet for me?” 

“Mhmmm...”

"What about Mr. Manson?" He leans into your ear, warm breath tingling your skin. "You really sold it back there. You wanna see his big cock, don’t you? Wanna suck on it?"

"No more than you do," you tease, and he chuckles, lining himself up.

He buries himself inside of you. "Oh, fuck yeah, baby," he groans, "Fuck, I love this tight little pussy." 

"Fuck me hard Bri, I wanna feel you for days," you moan, bracing your palms against the wall. He starts to go harder, desperate to get you both off with enough time to get back into class, but the door swings open. Brian looks back, his dick halfway back inside you, and he makes a little noise.

"What? Who is it?" you moan.

"I don't recall giving you permission to leave the class, Mr. Warner," Mr. Manson’s low, growling voice says, as the teacher crosses his arms.

"Sir," Brian swallows, "We--"

"No." The teacher stands in front of the door, keeping it shut. "Continue." You feel yourself get even wetter at the thought of the sexy teacher watching you get fucked.

“Y-you... want me to keep going?” Brian asks, voice small. Manson takes his sunglasses off once again, folding them up and tucking them in his suit pocket. His voice is calm and level, but his arousal is evident.

“That’s what I said.”

Brian slowly draws out, and pounds back in as you gasp. You hear Mr. Manson unzip his pants, the sound of clothes rustling alongside Brian's pale, slender hips slapping your ass with every thrust filling the men's washroom.

"You like watching, daddy?" you ask, grinning.

"Mmm," Manson hums, starting to stroke himself at the name. "You think it's appropriate to call me that, Miss (y/l/n)?"

"To be brutally honest sir, I don't give much of a fuck."

Manson smirks. "Good. Cause neither do I."

Brian is working up a sweat behind you, biting his lip as he pounds you as hard as he can.

"Yeah, baby," you whine, "Right there." 

Brian kisses your shoulder as he keeps going. Then he gets an idea. At first he’s a little nervous... but he knows you’ve always encouraged any fantasy he's ever had. He's sure you won't mind-- you may even like it too. "Mr. Manson?"

"Mhm?"

"C-Come and touch me?"

The professor raises his non existent eyebrows. "I could get in lots of trouble for that, Mr. Warner."

"So could we," you laugh. Manson finally saunters over with that confident swagger, and feels a hand down to Brian's ass.

"That what you want? Mm?"

"Oh god..." He presses back into the teacher, eyelids fluttering from the stimulation of his cock inside you while being fawned over by the older man.

"You want to feel daddy touch you? So pretty... such a dirty little thing... dirty little pretty boy."

“Yeah.”

“You could barely hide your hard on in class. Thought I couldn’t see.”

“Oh,” Brian moans.

“I saw your hand on your cock. You needed (y/n) bad.” Brian literally purrs, and Manson shifts his focus. "What about you, sweetheart, how you doing over there?"

"Fuck!" is all you can manage out, and Manson smirks.

"Your boy here really knows how to do the work. He's giving it his all."

"Daddy, please," Brian whines, and you don't think you've heard anything so hot in your life.

"Daddy's here," Mr. Manson growls, feeling down Brian's ass and between his legs. When he grazes your boyfriend's balls, you feel Brian go even harder, and you very nearly sob as he hits your g-spot perfectly.

"Shhh, shhh, babygirl," Manson whispers, coming over to you, "Can't have anyone come, stumble in and find us, hm?" 

"Like you?" you retort, turning your head to the side to face him, and he grins, stroking your chin.

"Like me." He presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth, then to your lips. You open up for him, and he swipes his tongue along your lower lip, his lipstick rubbing against your skin. He lets up the kiss, and you pause to turn around, wrapping your legs around Brian as he sloppily pushes back in. You move forward to kiss your boyfriend now, all messy tongue and hot gasps. You tilt your head back in ecstasy on a particularly good thrust, and Manson takes this opportunity to kiss Brian, the two starting to make out as Brian rocks you against the wall. They finally part. “That lip ring makes it hard to kiss.”

Brian gives him a dark smile, getting off on being just as bratty as you. “I don’t live my life to please older guys like you.” Manson looks at him in amusement. 

“You in a punk rock band or something? You seem like you’d be perfect for one.” 

“I am, actually,” Brian says, running his tongue along his bottom lip, over his piercing just to make a point. 

“They’re magnificent,” you moan, rocking down on your boyfriend. “They go all out on stage.” 

“Mmm. I bet Brian fucks you nice and rough after his shows, (y/n),” Manson says. 

“Oh, he does,” you grin, “Nice and rough.” You look down and smile at Manson's hand in his pants, moving in quick, deliberate jerks. "You like what you see, sir?" you grin, and Mr. Manson growls.

"Little fuckin' troublemaker."

"I wanna see it," you moan out. Manson lifts his chin, and lifts his top up just above his belly button, revealing more tattoos on his deliciously soft stomach, and his cock underneath, the head weeping into his hand. "Keep touching it," you breathe. He doesn't break eye contact with you as he drags his fist up his hard cock, up and over the swollen head, and back down as he picks up his pace again.

It's your turn for another request, and you ask it properly, biting your pinky. "I want you both to fuck my mouth."

"Filthy," Manson murmurs, "You've got a girl who fuckin' knows what she wants."

Brian lets you down, and you get on your knees in between them. You're used to sucking Brian off, but having Mr. Manson's cock in front of you as well makes you flush.

Brian reaches for you first, grabbing your hair and shoving you down over him. You deepthroat him immediately, choking a little, and Brian keeps jerking your head back and forth by your hair, making sure you're good and used. You can taste yourself on him as you suck around the head, absolutely getting off on how rough he’s being. 

"Take it," he hisses, sneering, and you moan. Eventually, you switch to give Manson some attention. He's waiting patiently, and you're the one who holds him at the base as you slide your lips down over him.

"Mmmm. Perfect," he grumbles, "Good girl." You work him, taking him all the way down and back up, and you reach back to jerk Brian off as well. You pop off Manson, and alternate between the two. After a moment, Brian takes initiative, and takes Manson’s cock in hand with his, pumping them together as you kitten lick them both. Brian bats his eyes up at the teacher, and Manson takes over, jacking the two of them off. Brian lets out a choked out cry as he finishes over your lips and in Manson's hand, but the teacher doesn't stop. He continues to stroke your boyfriend as he encourages you to get up.

"Not outta the game yet, angel." The teacher shoots you a smirk. Brian's half hard again in minutes, and he picks you up, sensitive from his first orgasm but just as feral and desperate, long black hair plastered to his face and neck. He pushes back into you, and you bury your face in his neck, craving your building release.

"I'm... fucking close," Brian breathes. Manson saunters close again.

"C'mon, baby. That's it. Give her your load, you know you want to," he whispers in Brian's ear, grinding his own cock against the young man's ass, against the material of the black denim, "She wants you to." Mr. Manson traces your lips with his fingers, and slips them into your mouth for you to suck on. You do so gratefully, moaning. "She's a little cumslut, you know it. Aren't you, baby girl? Sweetheart's a whore, wanna get filled up like a little whore?"

"Mhm," you moan desperately. 

"Fuck, fuck!" Brian gasps, and cums deep inside you again. Manson gives a small groan, rubbing himself to completion with his free hand, and you're hit with your own powerful orgasm, riding it out on your boyfriend's throbbing cock. 

When the three of you finally stumble away from the wall, you start to realize what just happened.

"Well. That was better than study hall," you smile, taking Brian’s arm. He's still catching his breath as Manson looks at the two of you, fixing his suit jacket. He tucks himself back up into his boxers, zips his fly, and looks in the mirror. He uses a finger to clean up his lipstick a little, and puts his sunglasses back on.

"Okay, would it be too cliche of me to say I'm giving you both As?"

"Yeah," Brian grins, shoving his hand in your back pocket affectionately, "But we earned that shit."

As Manson turns back to keep fixing his makeup, he notices the twisted heart he had been doodling earlier, tattooed on the older man's wrist. Huh. Some kinda serendipitous coincidence.