#listened to bulldozer again i take it back i love the mmm mmm thing it's got going on

[wongyuseok]

Ok I'm done spamming

[headoverhiddles]

Like A Heretic - Marilyn Manson x Reader [Fluff]

Synopsis: You know Manson from one (1) party, yet he feels the need to drunk text you his obscene propositions at 2 am on a Wednesday? 

Notes: What?? I wrote a fluff fic?? Yea, it’s been known to happen. Shhh. Pale Emperor era. Also, this one is gender neutral, reader can be any gender! 

You collapse into the plush of your down comforter, feeling the fluffy feathers sink beneath you. Smiling to yourself, you clear the day away in your brain, bulldozing over every worry, publicity problem, or stressed manager that could be dealt with the next day. For now, you’re in your bed, and nothing can come between you and a peaceful night’s sleep. 

You cuddle into your pillow. The feeling you’ve got right now is comparable to a the perfect orgasm-- you never want to leave this bed. Your mind starts to drift, and you picture yourself on a beach somewhere, where no one can reach you. No one... no one... except that bee buzzing in your ear.

Groggily, you open your eyes. That’s not a bee. It’s your phone. 

Dammit, why didn’t you put it on silent? You go to turn it off properly, but the text on your screen makes you hesitate. You blink a few times, squinting through the dark at your phone. Were you reading that right?!

Manson: Hey (y/n) psssst. I’ve got a secret can I tell you the secret 

“What the fuck?” you mumble out loud, and sigh, turning on your bedside lamp. Manson? What... oh. Oh, yeah. About two months ago, you had attended a music awards event in New York, and had met a few new people. One of them had been Marilyn Manson. He had been a lot more down to earth than you had imagined he would be, and the two of you hit it off pretty well. 

It struck you as interesting as well, but he had followed you around that night like a lost puppy. He always wanted to be around you, and it had been him who had suggested you exchange numbers, maybe hang out, go see a movie or something. You had excitedly given him your number, but didn’t think much would come of it. He probably got lots of people’s numbers, then forgot about them the next week. 

So why was he texting you at... 2:13 in the morning?! You stare at the same text again. 

Manson: Hey (y/n) psssst. I’ve got a secret can I tell you the secret

You bite your lip, and type out a quick text back.

(y/n): Shoot.

His reply is almost immediate. 

Manson: I wanted to say when I saw you and we hung out at radio city last month you were cute really sexy n beautiful ad I miss you :( :(

You blush a little bit, but type back a cautious text. 

(y/n): You feeling alright? 

Before you can hit send though, another text from him comes in.

Manson: If you think I am drunk and handsome you are correct, i’m both

You giggle a little, and sit up fully. Manson’s drunk texting you, telling you you’re cute? This couldn’t get any crazier if you made it up. 

Manson: Do you know what sexting is? 

You raise your eyebrows. 

(y/n): I’m familiar with it, yes. 

You bite your lip. Should you add a winky face? Before you can, he writes back. 

Manson: what if i told you I wanted to lick your body ad probably do butt stuff with you too? 

You feel yourself heat up even more, and you don’t know whether to laugh or get aroused. 

(y/n): You fucking with me, Manson?

Manson: I would like to fuck you, yes. 

(y/n): So... tell me more, then. What else would you do to me?

Manson: Id cum on your chest

Manson: oops was that too far?

(y/n): No... go on.  

Manson: maybe on your face then if you want that, I wanna be respectful 

Manson: I’d also punish your sex hole. i’m really good at that

(y/n): You sound like a porn bot lol 

Manson: dirty old man in your area looking for hot singles <3 that looks like a pointy dick

You giggle, and are about to sign off so you can sleep for real, but he texts again with something that makes you pause. 

Manson: Wanna cum over? 

You stare at the text, waiting to see if he’ll write again. You wait, and wait. Nothing else is coming in. You type out a few possible responses. Then you finally hit send on your last one, biting your lip. 

(y/n): What’s your address?  

Shit. Shit shit! What are you doing? Looking back at your bed though, you can’t deny you feel a thrill. This is the shit you moved here to LA to do. 

---

Pulling up to Manson’s address, the place is just like him-- not what you were expecting. It’s a dark apartment above a liquor store, with black out curtains covering the window. You walk over to the stairs, and catch the door when someone walks out. Heading inside, you look down at your phone, and find his number. Apartment 15. 

You knock softly, and wait. When he doesn’t come to the door, you shoot him off another text. 

(y/n): I’m at your door, don’t leave me hanging or I’ll leave you with a hard on

He doesn’t respond, and you hear a moan inside. You frown, and try the door handle-- it’s open. You walk in, forgetting momentarily where you are, and see that the place is a relative mess. Piles high of books, records and movies are stacked along the walls, and there’s like, one dying plant by the darkened window. It’s laughable to assume the poor thing gets any sun, which is also a statement that could be applied to the rock star you’d come to sleep with. 

A bunch of album artwork for his new record, the Pale Emperor, is laid out on his table as well. You take a quick glance at it, before dropping your jacket. 

“Hey,” you call out, “I’m taking my top off! You’re gonna miss it if you don’t come find me!” You hear the moan again, and walk down the hallway. “Oh, fuck.” 

“’M alright...” He’s on the floor, in a puddle, four small cats surrounding him. One rusty colored one is lapping from the puddle. Was this a Jimmi Hendrix situation???

“Please don’t tell me that’s piss,” you mutter, “Cause I am not cleaning that up.”  

One of his four cats meows loudly. Manson just laughs. “It’s vodka. I slipped and broke the bottle.” 

“That I can clean up,” you nod, but first, you help him to his feet. He wobbles a little, and falls into you. Pinned against the wall, his lips are inches from yours... until his head thumps beside yours, lips pressed into your neck. He’s so fucking gone. You look around, and spot the washroom down the hall the other way. You help him slowly, and he keeps talking the whole way.   

“You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous,” he mumbles, “My brain camera remembered you were hot but I didn’t remember you being this hot... mmhm...”

“You still down to fuck me?” you tease, helping him sit on the edge of his bathtub. His eyes widen a bit as he licks his lips and points a swaying finger. 

“Baby I was born ready to fuck. I came out of the womb with an erection.”

You cringe. “That’s... a very disturbing mental image.” 

“You know what else is disturbing? My DICK.” He frowns a little, nose scrunching up. “But not for... it’s not disturbing, it’s just disturbing how big it is... or...”

“Stop, you’re turning me on,” you smirk sarcastically, and get a towel, dabbing his face down with cool water. “How does that feel?”

“Oh baby, you feel so good, fuck,” he moans, and you blink. God damn, he really is wasted. 

“Good to hear.” You plant a kiss on his cheek as you sponge down his arms, and he purrs like a big happy cat, nuzzling into your chest. 

“Do that again?” You smile, and lean in, kissing him again, this time closer to his mouth. Then you kiss him again, and again, each one earning more praise from the god of fuck before you. “Mm yeah-- oh yeah-- yeah yeah, right there-- yeah yeah right there...” He grins, eyes closing. “Mmm, delightful.” He blinks up at you, swiping a hand across his smudged eyeliner. “Will you... be my friend?” 

“Sure. Friends to lovers is always a fun way to go.” He seems genuinely happy with this. “You know, you’re sexy too,” you say, helping him take his shirt off. You glance down his chest and stomach at his tattoos, trying to focus on the project at hand instead of actually picturing riding him right now. “I thought so the night I met you at Radio City, and I think so now.” 

“Really?” he hums, reaching up in his stupor to put a hand against his chin. He suddenly seems bashful, and realizing how vulnerable he’s made himself, hides half of his face. “Even without my makeup?” 

“Definitely. I happen to think you’re beautiful.” He purses his lips.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not! In fact, if you weren’t absolutely shit hammered right now, I’d probably want you balls deep.”    

He groans. “Fuck it if I’m drunk, that’s when I’m in my strongest form!” He slips a little, steadying himself on the toilet as he stands. 

“I would disagree with that, but...”

“Besides, with all those compliments, you’re... you’re making my dick hard, see? And now it’s... ahh, it’s gonna be mad at me if I don’t... you know, fuck you, so...”

“Shh, for now try to walk straight.” 

“Where are my asshole cats?”  

“They were all watching you describe your dick to me,” you say, and he wags a finger their way. 

“Dooon’t listen to daddy, my loves. Nonono. Bad. This is grown up human people talk!”

You giggle. “You must like cats.”

“I am a cat person, I love cats. That’s why I don’t give it doggy style, cause I’m a cat man. The crazy cat man. That sounds like a serial killer...”

You giggle, and guide him back down the hall. “Where’s the bedroom?” He lifts his chin to gesture to it. 

“Last door on the right.” You help him into bed, and he tosses a pillow at a tall vase in the corner, sending it shattering. “Goddamn ghosts in my house, watching me sleep,” he slurs, and points wildly to his closet. “The sex toys are in there, if you wanna get yourself started...”

You smile, politely neglecting the sex closet of the rock star you’d been booty called by. Masturbating in said rock star’s home while he’s passed out shitfaced doesn’t look good for anyone involved. 

“Goodnight Manson,” you sing song, and shut his door. Pressing your back against it, you exhale. What just happened? 

You carefully walk over to the spilled vodka, and check the shards of glass. Thankfully no blood anywhere-- that would have been even worse to clean up. You grab a rag from the kitchen, and start mopping up the floor. One of his cats walks over from the bathroom, and starts to rub against your ankle.

“Well, hi. What’s your name, love?” You check the tag. “William. Very handsome name. Handsome just like your dad.” You sigh, as William follows you around the apartment. You feel like you shouldn’t be here anymore. It was a mistake-- he was obviously too drunk to do anything to or with you tonight. You should just leave. Yeah. Go back home, forget this ever happened and... maybe check in with him tomorrow morning, see how bad his hangover is. If he responds. 

Just as you’re about to leave though, you hear his slurred voice call from the bedroom. “(y/n)--!” 

You hesitate, then walk back in, shutting the door. You walk over to his room, and open the door. “Yeah?”

“...Get into bed with me? Please? Wanna hold someone...” 

You look behind you, and then to him again, where he’s laying, tangled in his limbs, in the large bed. You nod, and close the door to a crack, coming in. You unzip your hoodie, and before you can come to your senses, you get into one side of his king sized bed. You hear him breathing softly, and smile a little at the sudden intimacy of it all, turning over in fetal position. Not how you expected this night to turn out, but it might be even better. 

Just as you’re falling asleep in the bed of the Antichrist, you feel arms wrap around you from behind, and feel his head in the nape of your neck. Beginnings of rare stubble scratch your skin pleasantly. 

“This an okay alternative to butt stuff?” he mumbles, and you reach up to hold his wrists against you. 

“It’s perfect.” 

[camillemontespan]

a week at aunt olivia and uncle leo’s [part four]

Part Three if you want to catch up 

Abso-fuckin-loutely.

A pin drop could have been heard after Lily uttered Mr Big's famous line with a smirk on her face. Her father's smirk.

The phone was silent on the other end. Olivia and Leo stared at the five year old, waiting with bated breath for Drake to roar down the phone.

Lily passed the phone to Olivia. 'Daddy wants to speak to you.'

Olivia groaned and took the phone. 'Hello, Drake.'

'Olivia, why the fuck is my daughter watching Sex and the City and why is she swearing?' Drake hissed.

'Um..'

'Olivia..'

'Fine, I was a little drunk- I mean, giddy - last night and decided to put the show on. Don't worry, I fast forwarded any dodgy bits so Lily didn't see -'

'She's fucking four!' Drake shouted. 'She should be watching Peppa Pig, not fucking Carrie whats-her-name with the horse face!'

'Look, I'm sorry,' Olivia said, trying to calm him down. 'It won't happen again.'

'Damn right it won't happen again,' Drake thundered. 'As of now, you're not babysitting her again!'

'Not babysitting her again?!' Olivia cried, genuinely upset. She felt her heart sink and she realised that she had caught feelings for her god-daughter.

Leo rested his head on the kitchen table. Lily was staring at Olivia with her eyes wide. Olivia could see that her bottom lip was starting to tremble.

'Uhh, Drake..'

'No more, Liv! This is fucking ridiculous!'

'Look, she enjoys being with us,' Olivia said. 'I'm sorry I showed her that programme but we've been having a good time -'

Lily launched herself across the table and pulled the phone out of Olivia's hand.

'Daddy I don't want to leave Aunt Olivia and Uncle Leo's,' she said, her voice shaking. 'I love them.'

Olivia could hear Drake speaking to his daughter in a soothing voice, probably trying his best to turn Lily against them. But what Drake couldn't see was the stubbornness in Lily's eyes and the tears that were starting to spill down her cheeks.

'No, no, no!' Lily shouted, her voice cracking. 'I want to stay with them and have meatballs and watch TV and have bath time and play dress up!'

Olivia could see the conversation was getting out of hand so she gently took the phone from Lily, who was now shaking all over and hiccuping in between sobs. Leo had got up and sat on the chair beside her, pulling her onto his lap. Lily burrowed into Leo's chest and hiccuped while Leo smoothed her hair back, whispering, 'Shh it's okay, love.'

Olivia took the phone and went out into the hallway away from Lily. 'Drake, its me.'

'Thank you Olivia for making my little girl scream at me down the phone,' he said dryly. 'I thought this would happen when she turned fourteen but hey, I love surprises.'

'Drake, will you stop being a dickhead?' Olivia burst out. 'I know I fucked up. I'm sorry. I'm genuinely really sorry. But you haven't trusted us the whole time she's stayed here! How do you think that makes us feel?'

Drake attempted to interrupt but Olivia ignored him, bulldozing through.

'I actually fucking adore that little girl,' Olivia said. 'She's cute and funny and she lights up the room. We have fun together. She's having a good time and by the way, it might be interesting to note that your precious baby girl hasn't even mentioned you once since she's been here.'

Drake was silent. Olivia heard Camille whisper and the phone jostle.

'Liv, its me,' Camille said, her voice calm.

'Hey, babe,' Olivia sighed, siting down on the stairs.

'Okay, so while I don't like the fact that my four year old has watched Sex and the City and has learned an interesting way to swear, don't listen to Drake,' Camille told her. 'Just please, no more inappropriate TV shows, no swearing, no falling down the stairs.'

'Camille!' Drake hissed. 'You're being too gentle -'

'Shh, Drake!' Camille hissed back. Olivia smiled. She liked how Camille handled him.

'Lily really loves you,' Camille continued. 'Seriously, she goes on about you all the time, it's adorable. She's having a good time and from what I've heard, you are taking her to playgroup, sorting out bath time and feeding her. You're looking after her in your own way but you're sticking by my rules.'

'She's ignored every rule, Camille!' Olivia heard Drake protest. 'For God's sake, Lily's learned the F word!'

Camille sighed and put the phone away from her mouth. Olivia heard her whisper, 'Do you want to go home and be a dad again or do you want to stay here and be the Drake you were before responsibilities? Because after this phone call, I'm getting naked. You're welcome to join me or you can worry about our daughter who is FINE by the way. Its up to you. '

Olivia whistled. 'Damn, Camille.'

'He's been worrying all fucking week,' Camille whispered. 'I'm trying my best to make him calm down and enjoy the freedom.'

'I am enjoying the freedom!' Drake cried. 'Just not when my little girl is falling down stairs!'

Camille ignored him and continued to speak to Olivia. 'We're back in two days anyway. Just no more Sex and the City, no more swearing and just make sure there's no accidents. Got it?'

'Got it, boss,' Olivia confirmed, relieved that Camille had given her a second chance. 'Um, she got a little upset when Drake told her she wasn't staying with us anymore. What will help her feel better?'

'Tea parties,' Camille said instantly. 'Play tea parties with her.'

Olivia felt dread creep up in her stomach.

                             **********************************************

It wasn't that Olivia didn't want to play tea parties with Lily. Far from it. It was because she had never played those types of games growing up. She didn't know what to do.

Playtime for Olivia growing up involved archery, karate and defense skills. She never played with dolls or make up or tea sets.

Swallowing, Olivia went back into the kitchen where Lily was still sat on Leo's lap. The two of them were talking very quietly.

'So, I heard that someone like tea parties..' Olivia said loudly, making her voice bright. 'How about it, babe?'

Lily's eyes lit up and she nodded eagerly, memories of the past fifteen minutes gone. 'But I don't have my tea set!'

Olivia chewed her lip then went to the kitchen cupboard. She brought out three wine glasses. 'These will do.'

Leo groaned. 'Liv, have you not learned from your telling off from Drake?'

'I have,' Olivia said, 'and I listened. Lily likes tea parties. We're having a tea party.'

Lily jumped off Leo's lap and followed Olivia out to the living room. Olivia set up the three wine glasses on the coffee table and stuck some cushions on the floor.

'Um.. What else do we need for a tea party?' Olivia asked, out of ideas.

'Chocolate!' Lily squealed. She ran back to the kitchen, shouting for Leo to find chocolate.

Olivia sat down on a cushion and sighed. She didn't know what to do next.

                        **********************************************

It turned out that Olivia didn't need to worry because Lily took control.

She was the perfect hostess - Camille had taught her well. She asked if Olivia and Leo had had a lovely day, what had they been doing and to make themselves comfortable.

She had chocolate milk which Leo poured into the wine glasses, not keen to let Lily pour herself as the liquid might end up on their expensive rug.

'So what happens at tea parties?' Olivia asked awkwardly.

'Everything!' Lily said. 'We have fun. Ooh, I need my Teddy bear.'

She jumped up and rushed to her room to find Teddy. While she was gone, Olivia grabbed Leo by the arm.

'What the fuck do I do?'

Leo chuckled. 'Calm down, babe. Have you seriously not had a tea party before?'

The look on Olivia's face made him realise how stupid a question that was.

'You just drink chocolate milk and eat chocolate,' he said. 'Whatever Lily wants to do, we do.'

'That could be anything!' Olivia hissed. 'I'm not cut out for this! I thought it was a good idea but come on, Leo, I don't even eat carbs!'

'Do it for Lily,' Leo whispered. 'Just swallow the chocolate milk and pretend it's the most glorious thing you've ever had in your mouth. I won't be offended.'

Olivia stared at him. 'Are you referencing your dick at a tea party?'

Leo shrugged. 'My tea parties are a bit more grown up.'

'I dread to think.'

'Maybe later, we can have a tea party on our own..' Leo murmured. 'Special invitation, you and me-'

'THIS IS TEDDY!' Lily shrieked, bursting into the room holding her favourite Teddy bear aloft. She also had Olivia's old bear, Ernest, which Olivia had given to her to combat her fear of the dark.

'Oh wow, is that your old bear, Liv?' Leo asked.

Lily sat down and placed the two bears on either side of the table.

Olivia nodded. 'I gave him to Lily to help with her fear of the dark.'

'I'm not scared anymore,' Lily said seriously. 'Thanks to Ernest.'

Leo patted Ernest on the head. 'Good work, Ernest.'

Olivia picked up her wine glass with chocolate milk. She eyed it warily, aware that Lily was watching her, and forced it down. God it tasted.. Nice.

'Mmm..' Olivia hummed, genuinely. 'Yum!'

Lily burst out laughing when Olivia put the glass down. Olivia looked at Lily then Leo, seeing amusement on Leo's face. 'What? What's so funny?'

'You have a chocolate moustache!' Lily told her, giggling.

Olivia wiped her upper lip and sure enough, chocolate milk came away on her finger. Leo laughed and leaned over to kiss her.

'Ewww..' Lily muttered. 'No kissing at the tea party table.'

Leo let out a laugh. 'Oh, sorry Madam! Olivia, no kissing at the table!'

Lily stuck out her tongue and then cleared her throat. 'Teddy is going to tell a story.'

Leo and Olivia clamped their lips together and listened to Lily as she picked up Teddy and pretended to make him talk. She told a story about a princess with long red hair and a pet dragon. The princess was brave and rode around on her dragon all day, saving people from bad things like ogres. At the end, she called the princess Olivia and Olivia had to drink more chocolate milk to distract herself from the warm emotions she was feeling.

                               ********************************************

For dinner, Leo got Lily involved with helping to make burgers. He taught her how to roll the patty while they sang along to music. Olivia passive aggressively filmed them on her phone as she sipped her wine before sending the video to Drake, captioning it: 'Lily's having an awful time, as you can see.'

Okay it wasn't passive aggressive. It was just pure aggressive. Being passive wasn't in Olivia's nature so why start now?

The thing was, she understood why Drake was mad. His little girl had watched a TV show about women who always talked about sex and don't even mention Samantha Jones, the most vocal of them all.

But it upset Olivia that Drake didn't trust her. She knew she wasn't the most friendliest of people. She wasn't rainbows and cookies and constant cuddles but damn it, she was a good aunt when she needed to be.

Olivia felt like someone worthwhile when she was around her god-daughter. Call her pathetic but aside from Leo, Lily was the only person in the world who saw Olivia for who she was. Lily didn't judge Olivia on her passion for knife throwing or the fact that she always had resting bitch face. Lily didn't let any of that cloud her thoughts. She just accepted it with a shrug and then begged her to play dress up.

It was in stark contrast to when Olivia met Camille for the first time and the two of them didn't see eye to eye. Or when she grew up in court with Drake who avoided her like the plague. No matter how hard Olivia tried to change people's minds about her, they didn't listen. They still saw a hot tempered, violent, sarcastic woman.

It had taken Olivia months to become friends with Camille (true, Olivia had been a bitch but Camille was American and a commoner and just.. Ugh, forget it) and when she was asked to be Lily's godmother, it had been a huge surprise followed by an unexpected thought: 'I have friends.'

Drake was tougher to crack. They got on much better now because they both somehow managed to pull down their walls. Their relationship mainly consisted of trolling on Instagram, insults and the occasional hug. Very occasional. Once a year hug.

But right now, Olivia didn't care because she was tired of being told she couldn't look after Lily. She would show him.

                          **********************************************

That night, Olivia put Lily to bed after her bath. The little girl smelled of lavender and her hair was pulled up into a ballerina bun to stop it getting tangled as she slept.

As Olivia tucked her in, Lily bit her lip. 'Aunt Olivia..'

'Mm?'

Lily snuggled into the duvet, wrapping her arms around Ernest the Teddy Bear.

'I'll miss you when I go home,' she confided.

Olivia smiled. 'I'll miss you too, babe. But you'll see us next week anyway, it's not goodbye.'

Lily nodded, looking very thoughtful. 'Aunt Olivia..'

'Yeah, babe?'

'Can we have a pizza party tomorrow? Maybe I could invite Milo?'

Olivia ignored her usual thoughts about carbs and pressed a quick kiss on Lily's forehead.

'Of course, babe.'