Schwerelos By Devilish

He's so adorable, I could eat him

♱ Georg Listing appreciation-post |

I highly recommend for y'all to come up with your own posts and fics. I promise it's way better to get feedback about something when you do it yourself :)

Long story short, stop copying me or you will be blocked! 𝜗ৎ

Was she breathing the same air as them and complaining?

Oh how I wish I was Georg, I'm gnawing at my own arm right now... he didn't do this when I went to their concert, he definitely knew I'd faint.

They call me Superman

PAIRINGS: Spider-Man Bill 2010 x female reader

GENRE: smut

SYNOPSIS: However, if listen closely, can hear muffled moans, growls and body slaps, resounding smacking, teeth clanking against the piercing iron ball and a quiet, quiet declaration of love.

WARNINGS: rough sex, p in v

A/N: english is not my native language! The name doesn't fit the story a bit, because I decided to name it after a song by Superman (Eminem).

The sun was smoothly disappearing into the horizon, spreading the long rays of an orange sunset across, sinking into the sharp corners of skyscrapers, reflecting off glass surfaces and painfully cutting into the eyes with a bright warm light. The streets of London are extremely crowded. Long snakes of cars that stand in endless traffic jams, crowds of people walking outdoors, eating in local bakeries or enjoying the nature of parks.

You were twirling a fresh newspaper in your hands, reading the same headline over and over again. A bold inscription on gray paper reads: “An unknown man in a mask saved our city again! The fight that took place between Spider-Man and Vulture took place in the central clock tower of Big Ben. A lot of damage was done to the building.”

The lines cling to the soul, forcing you to hold your breath for a moment, and then take a deep breath. It was as if there wasn't enough oxygen in your chest, so you went to the panoramic window and opened it wide, letting a cold stream of wind into the apartment. It was already rapidly getting dark outside, the whole of London was in the cold shadow of the night, streetlights alternately began to illuminate the path of passers-by.

You sat down on an armchair, grabbing a color photograph from the coffee table with a masked man who gracefully sat on the roof of one of the buildings. You took this photo a long time ago, but you still didn't dare send it to the press, because it became unpleasant from the realization that this guy would be slandered in the future, as always.

Suddenly, a rustle was heard from the window. You frowned and walked over to him, resting your palms on the windowsill. There was no one there, but your hands slipped, and you almost fell out the window, but someone else's strong arms grabbed you tightly by the waist, pressing your back against your elastic chest. You sighed in surprise, grabbing the savior by the venous hands. Looking down, you saw a dark blue fabric with a strange and rather familiar pattern.. Is that really it?..

A sob escapes from your chest by itself, and you immediately push away from the rescuer. Of course, it was none other than Spider-Man himself. The mesh of the "spider web" on his suit shone beautifully from the light of the street lamps. His sharp features cast bulky shadows, and there was a grin on his plump lips. You stumbled back, eyes wide. There was a photo on the floor that you had been looking at earlier. He squatted down and picked up the photo, letting out a mocking laugh. His gaze was directed entirely at you, and his eyes flashed unkindly.

“It's not a bad photo, is it?” His low voice made me start up. Right now you felt like a real prey in the hands of a predator.

You swallowed hard, a sticky ball of saliva, watching him intently, afraid to move once again.

“Come on, why are you acting like we don't know each other?” A voice came to your ear, and you screamed, recoiling from the hero who suddenly appeared next to you. He laughed and grabbed you by the waist, roughly and closely pressing you against his hot body. And you knew why and why he came to you. After all, it was you who turned him over to the press, photographed him from under the silence and allowed people to slander him. Maybe he's taking revenge like that. Rather, it's not possible, but that's for sure.

You tried your best to resist him, push him away from you and scream with all your might, not sparing your voice, but by doing so, on the contrary, you amused the young man, he laughed and wrapped your long hair around his fist, forcing you to throw your head back. Your heart was pounding, your blood was pounding in your veins, and you were extremely short of breath. Your head was spinning from the imbalance, it felt like it was all unreal, like it was a damn dream. You desperately wanted to push Spider-Man away, but your body was shackled by fear, and you were unable to move. Probably the only thing that kept you from falling was your nocturnal guest, who held your waist and hair tightly.

You silently closed your eyes, squinting and waiting for the subsequent punishment, trying to focus on controlling your own breathing, because at this rate you could easily have hyperventilated your lungs, at least. A strong hand moved higher, circling your chest slowly and gently, massaging your tense shoulders. It seemed to you that his touch left hot traces on your body, burning you to ashes. You felt a whole range of emotions that fell on your fragile shoulders in the form of male hands, but you were distracted from your thoughts by the low voice of the hero.

“Come on, don't be afraid, baby,” He whispered in your ear, his hot breath burning your earlobe. “I really liked your photos. You're probably a professional here, aren't you?” Bill grins, continuing to stroke your girlish shoulders and collarbones with one hand, holding your coiled hair tightly with the other, forcing you to tilt your head to the side, revealing a beautiful, neat neck.

Your body was shaking either from fear or pleasure. Your lips were pursed into a thin line, you finally stopped trying to escape. You began to concentrate on the guy's stinging touches, completely throwing all unnecessary thoughts out of your head. Your body was burning with desire, and you were trembling all over. The young man leads you to a chest of drawers and makes you bend down.

“Look in the mirror. Do you like what you see, mm?“ The hero's low, hoarse voice whispers in your ear, his lips glide over your earlobe and neck, biting and sucking, pulling your thin girlish skin into his mouth.

You stare intently into the reflection, and there you see a brunette who is barely standing on her feet, leaning weakly against the white wood of the chest of drawers, her hair is in disarray, her face is red, and her chest is heaving heavily. Strong, venous hands glide over her chest and waist, smoothly tracing all the curves of her body. He playfully hooks the hem of her T-shirt, unhurriedly lifting it higher, scratching her ribs with his short nails, kissing her neck..

Soon, a T-shirt with a print of some German rock band flies back, by a lucky chance falling neatly on the bed.

“Wow..” A faint chuckle can be heard from the guest. He smoothly outlines the outline of a red lace bra, licks his own lips and plays with the tongue piercing ball, tapping it against his fangs, moving it from side to side. Surely something unthinkable is going on in his head.

He takes out your polaroid camera from somewhere and takes a picture. You immediately start up, perplexed, trying to free yourself from the guy's hands, but he just clicks and thrusts his hips, roughly pushing against your ass, creating an imitation of a push. It made you collapse against a white tree and groan.

Bill, in turn, grins and shakes the photo, making the picture appear. His hand soothingly strokes your thigh, clad in a plaid skirt.

“Well, well, baby.. You have my pictures too, don't you? I'll keep this as a keepsake..” The photo immediately disappears somewhere, and Spider-Man turns all his attention back to you. “Remind me where we're staying..?” he says playfully and abruptly lowers both straps of your bra, making you cry out.

“Shh.. Well, what didn't I see there? Although.. You'll probably look a lot better than the ones I've already seen..” Bill's fingers deftly unfasten the lace element, throwing it away. His lips press against your delicate back skin, biting and licking, making you collapse with your chest against the cold surface of the chest of drawers. The hero slides his hot palms over your bare thighs, crawling under the worthless fabric of skirt, mercilessly scratching the skin of legs, rising higher, higher, higher..

You make a squeak and jump in someone else's arms when calloused fingers touch the most intimate, pushing back the edge of your panties...

You don't even notice how nimble fingers take turns penetrating you, driving deep and rough, contrasting with slow and gentle thrusts. He shamelessly pushes your hot walls apart, doing something incredibly obscene that makes your legs cramp and your knees tremble. His thumb simultaneously caresses the bead of your clitoris in circular movements, forcing you to moan loudly and continuously. Your shoulders were covered with red marks, and Spider-Man was whispering something very vulgar in your ear, constantly touching and squeezing your soft, rounded breasts with his free hand.

Something elastic is openly poking into your lower back, which made your cheeks flush with shame. Bill removes his hand from your chest, hurriedly and impatiently trying to get rid of the belt plaque on the loose cut of his jeans. You decide to help, and putting your hands behind your back, you quickly relieve the young man of the heavy burden of punk jeans. You wrap your manicured hands around him through the fabric of his boxers, and he even chuckled at the interesting contrast of his white underwear and your black nails, but your hand squeezing his cock immediately dispelled all the notes of mischief, from which he throws his head back along with his mohawk, moaning for a long time and stopping the movement of his fingers inside you for a moment. He growls and pulls off his boxers with a jerk, lifting your skirt and leaving a slap on your smooth buttocks, which made you scream. His fingers sloshed out of your warm interior to your disappointed whimper, but something much more substantial immediately rushes in to replace them.

The venous penis of a young man of considerable size fits completely inside you, you whimper and moan, moving your hips, wanting to feel it in action. And Bill lets you. He grabs you roughly by the hips and begins a smooth movement, staring intently at the reflection and grinning.

His organ is engulfed by the unbearable narrowness and warmth of your body, he growls and pushes into you rougher, sharper. You painfully bang your hips against the side of the chest of drawers, and the young man decides to make you arch so that it doesn't hurt so much.

His balls slap against your bulging ass, his fingers leave red marks on your delicate skin, and you whimper, giving back. Bill tilts his head back, crystal clear beads of sweat slowly trickle from his forehead, stroking his sharp cheekbones and jaw, as well as trickling down his clearly visible adam's apple and muscular chest with dark dots of nipples. His abs are tense, and a wild desire arises in the area of his pubis to fuck your soul out. To get back at you for making him look like a villain in front of the whole of London, for daring to take pictures of him from under the silence, for being so fucking beautiful..

He fucks you roughly and continuously, making you scream and squirm, clench your own hands and leave bloody crescents of nails on your palms.

“Oh my God!” You're screaming, clutching Bill's big hand tightly in your hand as he presses his prominent chest against your back. He grins.

“God? Huh.. They usually call me a street bully,” He roughly punches you into a chest of drawers, hissing in your ear through his teeth: “Or a looter, a murderer, a vandal, a monster.” His cock slides a lot harder and deeper, as if trying to get back at you for all the labels they put on him because of your fault. “Do you know who came up with all this? In the next newspaper, should I expect the headlines to say "god" instead of all that filth, huh? Tell me..” Kaulitz's hips are hammering more often, the thrusts are becoming more and more erratic. You come with a deep, long moan, unable to stand this guy's rhythm any longer. He quickly slips out of you, roughly bringing you to your knees.

“Will you apologize properly, baby?” Bill gently strokes your head, pushing you, who has not yet had time to recover from orgasm, into action. You obediently open your mouth, ready to take it completely. Your hot tongue slides over the flushed head of his cock, collecting the remnants of your own semen. You play with the tip of your tongue on his urethra, making him moan loudly and squeeze your hair. You circle his venous penis, not missing a single irregularity, passing deeper into your hot narrow throat. Bill licks his lips, shaking convulsively. He wrapped your long hair in his fist and began to roughly fuck your mouth, moving his hips. You stroke his thighs, scratch with your long nails, take him deeper.

After a couple of deep thrusts, Spider-Man pours into your mouth, looks at you through his fox squint from top to bottom, arrogantly watching as you swallow everything without a trace, finally running your tongue along his entire length, collecting the remaining layer of semen on the surface.

“Good girl..” He breathes heavily and swallows the saliva that has accumulated in his mouth, picks you up by the hair and kisses you wetly, deeply and passionately, after a while he pulls away and grins. “What about the second round?”

The sun has long since disappeared into the horizon, spreading the long rays of an orange sunset across, drowning in the sharp corners of skyscrapers, reflecting off glass surfaces and painfully cutting into the eyes with a bright warm light.

The streets of London are completely empty.

There are no longer those long snakes of cars that stood in endless traffic jams, there are no crowds of people who walked in the fresh air, eating in local bakeries or enjoying the nature of parks. Everything was replaced by bright signs of clubs and restaurants, light from the windows of multi-storey apartments and the rays of a large yellow moon. Fast motorcycles and the sound of water from fountains can be heard on the street. However, if listen closely, can hear muffled moans, growls and body slaps, resounding smacking, teeth clanking against the piercing iron ball and a quiet, quiet declaration of love.

︶︶⊹ ୨ Stars in his eyes ᦏ🌟᪔

I'm bragging about my friend ;)

PLSSS CAN YOU DO A BILL FICTION INSPIRED BY ONE OF THEIR MUSIC VIDEOS?? YOU CAN CHOOSE WHICH ONEEE

IT WOULD BE SO COOL<3

★ Fem!reader x Bill Kaulitz 2016

★ Tags: Angst, fluff.

| Summary: Bill and his girlfriend have been going through different rough difficulties in their relationship for a long time now, they both know it's useless to keep being together. None of them tried to do anything about it till he decided to put an end to it.

— 1st Chapter: Love don't break me.

"I need to get home, but I keep on holding on."

• Bill narrates;

I can't believe I'm here again. I want to hold her and tell her that we'll be okay, but I don't know how cause even I don't know the answer to that.

I look around the dark room, the blinds shut, I predict it's around 2 in the morning. My arms are around myself, unable to move after another successful fight; this time seeming worse than ever, after reproaching each other about every stupid little thing there is in the book.. even though this time they weren't just a few misunderstandings—It was much more than that.

I furrow my left eyebrow, once I hear the faint sound of her sobs in the background, hitting my eardrums. I hate seeing her cry, she knows that well, as much as I also know how I shouldn't cave in. But she's already scooting closer to me, wrapping her arms around my body loosely, tightening even more the second I tried to move.

My head fell to the front, a few of a blonde-platinum strands of hair pushed to my face. I sigh as she tries to comfort herself while in touch with my skin, 'Please, don't.' She mutters as she feels how I'm starting to stretch out my limbs to stand up this time, a thing I can't get through with because my body simply won't respond.

But I'm angry, so why are my arms moving around her, why are my eyes filled with tears when I keep hearing her say over and over how sorry she is? Maybe I don't really want to go.

Why can't my heart and my head work at once?

I open my mouth to speak, her face is buried on the back of my neck, and so are my fingers in her hair when I reached out to finally touch her. 'Why do we do this?' Is everything I manage to say—I can't understand how we've gotten to this point; The fighting, the aggressive make-up and when you think you're done, more fighting again.

I want to tell her that I won't be here forever, laying on her bed—completely wrecked and thinking about all the times we've been okay together instead of living the moment. And I've got a feeling that she doesn't want to be stuck in this back and forth for much longer.

But how will we move forward? we still love each other, there's no doubt, and even if we've been told that our love is gross, we'd always managed to prove them wrong.. this time we'll make it again, right?

She looks at me, untangling herself from the grip she's had on me before—I've got a feeling that she knows what I'm thinking about by the way she's shaking her head at me. 'Don't say you're gonna give up on me.' The look on her face said it all; regret, even fear, dispair... everything at once—like she expected the worst.

But I didn't say anything, I didn't dare. I couldn't get my mind to work, everything oh so overwhelming. Till her voice pushed me off my trance. 'Say something!' It was only natural she would react like that after getting no reaction out of me, so that's when I finally managed to push myself on my feet, looking around for the shirt I discarded earlier god knows where before this argument started, to slid it back on.

'I'm tired of fighting.' I said, bitter tears still stinging the corner of my eyes as I put on the rest of my clothes, pacing around the room to pick everything up, anything that I must be forgetting to grab while I make the feint of leaving.

I sniffle from my nose, and from one moment to another she's standing up from the bed, looking completely hysterical, not even bothering to put her shirt on as she tried to get ahold of me, eyes closing tight.

'You can't leave like this..' She said again, trying to change my mind, but this time I can feel myself getting a little bit of impulse, ready to leave it all behind. The black eyeshadow that I know is staining my under eyes, I wipe it off with my knuckles.. now I'm the one who's shaking his head. I can't listen to her this time, If I keep doing so I know I'll never leave. I know I'll never run free from this golden cage that we named love.

'I'm sorry, It's over.' And I didn't even stutter this time, It felt like I've been holding those words inside me forever, like I've been meaning to say it for a long time now. A big relief rushing through my veins, as if I could breath properly again.

But she didn't look relieved, she didn't look like it had been taken a big weight off her shoulders like I thought it would. She was silent, still.. It was even frightening. I wanted to turn to her and say something else, my hands even itching to touch her one last time, but I knew it would just make it worse than it was already.

So I went away, with broken wings.—I picked up my dignity, all my pride and I walked out.

But was I doing what was the best for us? wasn't I making it worse? what if I just regret all of this in the future?

I guess I'll never know.

Inspired by the 'Love don't break me' MV. For a better experience, listen to the song while you're reading.

[ I made this, all fanfics posted here are original ideas by me. ]

Nada tienen de especial, dos mujeres que se dan la mano. El matiz viene después, cuando lo hacen por debajo del mantel.

Luego, a solas, sin nada que perder; Tras las manos el resto de la piel. Un amor por ocultar, aunque, en cueros no hay dónde esconderlo.

Lo disfrazan de amistad, cuando salen a pasear por la ciudad. Una, opina que no está bien. La otra, opina que, ¿qué se le va a hacer? Y lo que opinen los demás está de más, ¿Quién detiene palomas al vuelo? Volando a ras de suelo,

Mujer contra mujer.

I'M BILL GIRL I'M BILL GIRL I'M BILL GIRL I'M BILL GIRL I'M BILL GIRL I'M BILL GIRL I'M BILL GIRL I'M BILL GIRL I'M BILL GIRL I'M BILL GIRL

I had to change my clothes after that, I'm not kidding

༺ Tw: NSFW

★ Bill 2010 x reader.

★ Gender neutral.

★ Breeding kink.

★ Sex in public spaces.

—I want you so bad.

Bill is always asking for your body, no matter the time, no matter the place. He always wants a piece of you, and even though you'll tease him and tell him how dirty he is for always wanting to touch you, to feel you; He doesn't care, he knows he's gross, he knows he's an addict for you, but he won't hide it, as a matter of fact, he doesn't give a damn. He'll grope you no matter what and tell you to be quiet when you try to 'resist' him, even though you don't really put up a fight. 'Don't play dumb, sweetheart. You know you like to take me.' He tells you, already out of breath at the sight of you looking up at him with those eyes, those eyes that he swore drove him right to the edge.

━╋

But In his head though, it's entirely your fault, the way you sway your hips when you walk, the way your clothes hug onto your body. You're the one who's setting him up all the time, making him the way he is, a rabid dog for you, desperate, you can't get that off his head. So whenever you two are alone, no matter how short that moment is, wether that means backstage before a concert, or a reunion with friends.. He'll push you up onto anything close to both of you and beg you over and over to use you. Because he knows how much you like him to beg you, even though he knows you'll give in everytime. 'Come on.. just this once, we won't make any noise, please.' He promises, even though you already know that's not true.

━╋

So of course, you'll end up letting him. Bill would unbuckle himself immediately, pushing down his pants along his boxers, barely to his thighs, they were already messed up with his precum. You couldn't help but lick your lips at the sight. 'Look at what you do to me.' His cock is always hard and throbbing for you, ready to stick it in you whenever he likes; just enough to having to slide your panties to the side and push himself into you immediately after.

━╋

He would throw his head back everytime, no matter how much he got to fuck you, it always sent him in a trance. 'So tight.' Bill loved to feel how he was filling you up, it was most probably one of the best things in the world [according to him] He'd curse under his breath whenever his thick cum dripped out of your hole, he just watched it, as if he was almost mesmerized—mouth wide open, trying to make the less sound as possible, even covering your mouth at the same time, wanting to pound into you over and over again just to see how much of his cum you could hold inside of you. 'God, look at the mess you made'. He snickered, everytime he saw you squirm around his cock as he kept it inside; still pulsating, aching to feel you all over again. 'Wanna make me cum again, hm?.' He'd tell you once you were a shaking mess under him, but he wasn't done with you yet.

Not at all. ୧ ⊹︶︶