Latest Posts by kaulitzily - Page 3

I'm so glad that he can do whatever he wants now, I think self expression is the most beautiful thing one can have.

I took this picture btw. 🪽

This tour was everything to me, the outfits were absolutely incredible. I can't wait to see what he's gonna wear on the next one! :)

He's so precious, I love the sound of his voice and the way his mouth moves to the side occasionally at the same time his eyebrows does. I wish I could see him talk all day.

I fear I have something inappropriate to say.

Tom's expression.. dilf dilf dilf. And Bill's black short hair, yum. I love this era so bad. Safe to say it's one of my favorite ones!

Perfection, if you ask me

He doesn't know how to look bad

| He's such a d͟o͟l͟l ♡

He would look much better sitting on my bed

꧁ Love when he s͟i͟t͟s on stage ♥️

It serves as proof that vampires exist

Happy B-day Georg! ཐི♱ཋྀ

Does anyone have the right to torture our poor boy? I'm willing to do anything for him

omg omg please write smut for sub bill i begggg i need more. i have no plot ideas but like mabye smt like hes begging for u to touch him and stuff omdsa IM SO DOWN FOR SUB BILL

mabye like 2007 era orrr smttt idk what eras youll do

-lulu

༺ Tw: NSFW

★ Bill 2007.

★ Female reader.

★ Sub!Bill, Dom!reader.

| Second request, I loved writing this one. I live to think about Bill being a bottom :) I can do any era btw.

—At your mercy.

The lights of the apartment were dimly lit, the only light coming from the bedroom, where you were sitting. Bill walked in after a long day, he had been away from you for what felt years—and he never really gets used to it, he's always whining about it and telling you how much he wishes you could just be with him the whole time. It's like he needed your approval for everything, so it was hard when he didn't have you there with him to guide him. He would occasionally call you for every little thing, wether that was for you to choose which clothes he had to wear or to tell you just how much he misses you.

━╋

The thing is, he'd just do whatever you tell him to do, because he was just like that. For him, you were his anchor, the only one who could ground him when it was needed. He lives for your praise, and dreads your disappointment, Bill would always remain devoted to you, no matter what.

And tonight, it wasn't any different. Once he walked into the room and saw you laying there on the bed, with his favorite black nightgown on—as if you were waiting for him, he felt as if his whole world crumbled and all that existed was you. 'I'm back.' He said, kicking off his shoes to the side, giving you one eager smile.. till you spoke up, shifting around the bed so you could look at him from there. 'You took a little too long, don't you think?' You lightly tapped the bed with your fingers, just to let him know that he could come closer to you. And he didn't even hesitate to sit down next to you, his fingers fidgeting with the silky sheets for a moment, already anticipating what would happen next.

━╋

'Yeah, uh.. no, I came as soon as I could, the rehearsal was longer than we expected.' He tried to excuse himself, fluttering his eyelashes for a moment while his gaze averted down to your legs, taking in the shape of you wearing that one piece.. And then you spoke up, taking his chin between your fingers so he could look into your eyes. 'Oh yeah? I guess you didn't miss me that much then.' You talked, you couldn't help the little smile creeping over your face as soon as you saw his reaction; Bill shook his head frantically, moving himself way closer and placing his head on top of your knees, nuzzling the side of his face agaisnt them, letting you know just how much he had really missed you. 'But I did.. It was hell without you. I swear I'll leave faster next time.' He assured you, his lips pressing gentle kisses on the inside of your knee, spreading them upwards as you looked down at him, moving a hand down to the top of his head, gently stroking a few of his hairs, messing them up.

'Come here.' And as soon as you said those words, he sat back up close to you, his arms still down to his sides, he never touched you unless you allowed him to, he knew better than that. You leaned in to kiss him on the lips, the gloss he was wearing immediately stuck on you as he opened his mouth just to give you good access to it. Your hands moved freely to place themselves agaisnt the hem of his shirt, sneaking her hands under to just lightly touch up the skin on his torso, always so soft. 'Always such a good boy for me, aren't you?' You whispered agaisnt his open mouth, pressing a gentle kiss on his cheek before you heard him gasp, when you started rubbing your thumb against his already hard nipples—'Yes, yes I am. Just for you-' He mumbled in return, his breath already ragged, his desperation growing at your light touches and the way you watched at him with that smug look on your face. 'Hmm, let's see just how much, shall we?' You grinned, and he nodded his head, willing to prove himself all over again, that he was deserving of you, of your touch.

He let his hands grip on the sheets as he leaned back just a bit, holding himself up while he watched your hands slid off his shirt, throwing it away, and immediately going to sit yourself on him, giving him a better view he could ever ask for.. you weren't wearing any kind of underwear so when you sat down, straddling him completely, your pussy brushed against the visible bulge under his tight jeans. 'Oh please.. can I touch you?' He murmured under his breath, his eyebrows furrowing as he watched with a drooling mouth the way your cunt throbbed on him, aching for his touch. You thought about it for a second or two, humming at his pleading words, your hands laying on his chest as you started rocking your hips back and forth, grinding on his erection—your lips immediately parting to let out a moan. 'You wanna touch me baby, hm?' You asked, his head nodding quickly without a second thought, his hand fidgeting with his left nipple for a moment before you caught it in yours, grabbing ahold of two of his fingers to redirect them to his mouth. 'Suck, make 'em wet for me.' After your command, he opened his mouth just as quickly, his tongue out to take his own fingers in, your hand on his wrist pushing and sticking them down with a smirk—making him cough. But he didn't care in the slightest, sucking thoroughly till you let him go, and he reached his hand down to your pussy, licking his own lips to catch the drool on them before he started to dab his wet fingers on your clit, searching for approval with his eyes. 'Like this? am I doing good?' He would ask you everytime he was touching you near your sex, just to hear you say just how good he was, fueling his need to please you.

His touch sent a shiver down your spine, your back arching just enough to give him more acces, your ass rubbing agaisnt his bulge this time around, being more consistent on hearing him moan—his sounds were everything to you. 'Uh mhm, keep going..' You demanded, his fingers moving uncontrollably agaisnt your pussy, searching for your entrance with them, just rubbing along till you suddenly moved your hips up, sitting down straight on his fingers, which made both of you audibly gasp at the same time.

Bill blinked his eyes, biting on his lip at the incredible sight of his drool and some of your juices streaming down your pussy and onto his pants. 'Fuck me with those fingers, c'mon.' And there was nothing else to say, he started moving his fingers inside of you, feeling the way your walls sucked onto them completely, he wanted to feel it so bad on him.. he felt like he couldn't wait any longer, the pleasure already building inside of him just by thinking about it. Meanwhile, your face said it all, his slender fingers hit the spot perfectly as he curled them up, and you kept letting out such lewd sounds, it was making him whimper, his cock pulsing under you. 'Please.. please fuck me, I can't keep going.' He told you, shaking his head no at the simple thought of you not actually sitting on his dick instead.—He needed it so bad.

But you didn't listen, you just kept rolling your hips everytime he moved his fingers in and out of you repeteadly, closing your eyes and grabbing onto the end of your nightgown, also taking it off with a quick move, leaning down to place both hands onto his chest, just so you could whisper closely in his ear. 'Do you think you deserve it, hm? do you think you deserve me letting you cum by fucking my pussy?' Your lips moved down to kiss on his neck, just teasingly dragging your tongue up and down his sensitive skin, his legs already shaking under you.. he whimpered once again right onto your ear, knowing damn well how weak you were for his sounds. 'Please, let me.. I wanna feel you- baby, please. Take them off..' He begged in between whispers, over and over again, his eyes closing as he felt your pussy clenching against his fingers.. he couldn't take it anymore, his precum continuously wetting his boxers.

So you let out a quiet groan, your knees steading yourself up onto the bed just so his fingers would slid out of you, along a soft sound. Then, your hands worked instantly on unbottoning his jeans, his hips also bucking up to help you slid them down along his underwear, his cock immediately bouncing up towards his low abdomen, all hard for you, deliciously looking with precum once again falling off the tip. 'Oh god, how desperate you are for me..' You whispered, your hand going to gently wrap around him, sliding your fingers up and down just gently, spreading his own wetness all over. He was already looking like he was going to cum, with the way he opened his mouth and moaned as you just slightly pumped his dick with your hand. 'Are you sure you can handle me, huh.' You asked, even though you already knew what his answer would be, he was so desperate he didn't care about a single thing—'Yeah.. I promise I- I won't cum yet.' He assured you, already knowing what you meant by your words. His head nodded quickly, his hair falling to his face as he breathed heavily, waiting for your next move.

So as soon as you heard his words, you placed both hands onto his shoulders to steady yourself, and you sat down on him again, this time making his cock push deep inside of you, feeling completely filled by him. Both of you threw your heads backwards, you knew just how much he liked to feel himself inside of you, it always sent him in some kind of trance—you couldn't help but bite you lip at the sight of him trying to compose himself and not cum before you did, because he knew well that he couldn't do so if you didn't give him any sort of permission, and that could lead to you not letting him cum again in days, and even worse, weeks. So he had to hold it in for his own good.

'Feels so good.. so good.' He let out in between loud moans, your skin hitting his everytime you bounced on his dick, leaving him trailing his hands up and down your sides, adoring every inch of skin, every mole, every curve. You set yourself down onto him, instead moving your hips back and forth this time, and he had to hold tight onto you, moving his torso up to meet your upper body, pressing himself agaisnt you. 'I'm gonna cum, please slow down or I'm gonna cum-' He begged once more, looking up at you with half lidded eyes, his black eyeshadow already running down the corner of his eyes. You always managed to make him feel so good, it was like he forgot about everything else, he was useless, completely at your mercy—like everytime you fucked yourself on his dick.

'Aw, you wanna cum so bad.. should I let you?' You started to deliberate, slowly moving yourself back and forth on him, but he looked up at you with those glistening eyes, tears starting to fall from the corner of his eyes all over again, his resolve weakening as he gripped onto your hips, desperate for his release, desperate for you to let him cum. 'Yes! please let me.. I swear I'll be good, I'll be good- oh please.' He mumbled, his eyes rolling back, he couldn't keep it in no more, and as soon as you reached your orgasm first.. your walls clenching this time around his cock, you nodded in approval, digging your nails onto the skin on his chest. 'Cum for me then, c'mon.' You encouraged him, bouncing deeply on him a few times more till he shoot his cum up into you, letting out a needy whimper agaisnt the crook of her neck, where he hid his face.

━╋

He let out a few sniffles, pressing kisses onto your neck weakly, his arms going to wrap around your torso lovingly. 'Thank you, thank you..' Bill whispered, all vulnerable—as you moved up once again to slid yourself off his cock, both of your fluids mixing all together and dripping down to his stomach. 'Such a good boy.' You mumbled against the side of his head, pressing a few kisses onto it, soothing him after your little time together, your fingers running through his hair as both of you fell back down onto the bed, with him on top of you, head on your chest. And he just smiled up at you, looking at you through his lashes like you were everything—your thumb gently wiping away the mess that was his face after you were done with him.

︶︶⊹ ୨ Stars in his eyes ᦏ🌟᪔

I could bite off my own legs to look up at Bill from floor to ceiling

Hey so idk if you’ve done anything like this already but could you do 2008 era Bill and he has a gf who’s a lot smaller than him (she’s like 5’0) and he has the biggest size kink? Like he loves to dominate her and pin her down, take advantage of how small she is

༺ Tw: NSFW

★ Bill 2008

★ Fem reader

★ Size kink

| First request, hope you like it :)

—Held in his hands.

Bill has always been obsessed with how short you are, for some reason. Since you two started dating he'd always try to tease you and say he could do whatever he pleased with you, since you were so small you wouldn't even be able to fight agaisnt him. Standing at 5'0, people had always been commenting about your height.. but he doesn't just find it cute, he revels in it.

Of course, you'd try to prove him wrong, 'Don't be dramatic, I'm not even that small.' But your resolve weakened everytime you couldn't reach up for something, and he had to help, secretly losing his mind over it. Or even comparing his hands to yours sometimes as well. In the end, it all resulted in him pinning you down every chance he had or scooping you up like a sack of potatoes, as he used to call it. 'You said what?'

In the bedroom, it was worse, that's when you realize just how deep it runs. Soon, his obsession turned into a hunger.

Sunday, 11:34 pm;

Bill pushed you down onto the bed effortlessly, and with the blink of an eye he was already getting rid of your shirt, throwing it somewhere in the room before starting to work on untying your bra with his expert fingers, the sudden change of temperature making you gasp—your tiny hands reaching for his back, grasping onto the fabric that hugged his skin before he spoke up. 'Look at you, little one. Now I got you right where I want you.' He was so hungry for you, he always was, it almost felt like a predator hunting it's prey.

He leaned down to kiss you on your open mouth, his body completely trapping yours agaisnt the mattress but you didn't put up a fight, you knew it was useless.. you just went with the kiss immediately after, letting out a slight moan when his tongue started to interwine agaisnt yours. One of his large hands managed to sneak itself under your pants, your hips bucking up against the cold touch. His fingers quickly finding their way to your crotch, gently running up and down your already wet panties, which of course made him grin. 'So ready to take me, hm?' He let out, even though they both knew that was just one big lie. You would always struggle to take his cock, no matter how much he'd fuck your brains out, you'd just never get used to his size—And god only knows how much that turned him on.

With a bite of his lip, he pushed down the rest of your clothes, immediately leaving you all naked agaisnt the bed, as his hands worked to free himself from his pants, your fingers slid off his shirt at the same time, touching up his slightly worked torso—softly tracing agaisnt the star on his pelvis. 'Someone's eager..'

And he hovered over you again, you loved to feel him all over you, getting lost under his embrace. His fingers teasingly creeped down between your legs, his hand basically covering your whole cunt. You gasped out at the simple touch of his fingertips just grazing agaisnt your clit. 'Please.' You managed to let out, looking up at him with those big eyes he really liked, those you knew he wouldn't be able to deny.

'Yeah? you want my cock, huh baby. Is that it?' He talked softly, he just wanted to look at you asking for it, to hear you; His hand squeezing your small tit with his fingers, toying with your nipple. You just nodded your head quickly, your arms going to wrap around his neck—your fingers tangling themselves into his hair. 'Hm, yeah I want it.. please.' You responded confidently, wrong idea. You bucked up your hips once more to rub yourself agaisnt his clothed dick, just to tease him back.

━╋

He couldn't help but let out a groan, pulsing agaisnt his boxers before he pushed them down to his thighs, not wanting to waste much time. So he grabbed onto his length, redirecting it towards your small entrance and once he started pushing inside; just below the tip, 'Fuck, no, I can't take it-' — That's what he thought. You cried out immediately, shaking your head no but his hand went to lay over your stomach, pressing you down agaisnt the bed so you couldn't possibly move away.

Then, he leaned down to talk softly agaisnt your ear. 'I'll be fast baby, don't cry.' He assured you quietly, closing his eyes as he pressed a few kisses agaisnt your cheek. And then he forced himself inside you, but you only managed to let out a choked out moan, closing your eyes tight at the feeling of his hard rock cock stretching your insides so good. You couldn't even talk by now, a few tears falling down your eyes but his fingers caught them gently, then he closed them agaisnt your jaw, your small face almost disappearing on his grip. 'You wanted this, and now you say you can't take it, mhm? Oh of course you will, sweet thing. So shut up, and stay still.' He told her, leaving no room for discuss as he kept pushing himself further and further, but it only made you grab onto him tighter on his shoulders, even if you wanted to move, you couldn't—your breath hitching everytime you felt his cock throbbing deep into your walls.

Bill moved his slender fingers back down towards your clit, rubbing in circles with his thumb just to ease you up a bit more; as he watched almost mesmerized how your pussy looked trying to take his cock so well.. he couldn't help but let out a hiss at the sight, his brows furrowing. 'Hmm, look at that aching little pussy.' He let out along a guttural moan, his dick sliding in and out of you till he pushed out slowly right just before his tip, you whined as soon as you felt empty, rolling your hips for a moment as your lips parted—you wanted to feel him again, it's like you needed it, you were starting to get used to him. 'Please, please.' You begged to him again this time along heavy breaths, and of course, he gave you just what you wanted. Pushing inside of you again just as slowly so you could feel his every inch dragging agaisnt your walls, before suddenly slamming the rest deep inside. You let out one high pitched moan, you were so damn tight around him it made his head throw back.

'Aw, you can't handle being empty for even a second? what a dirty little girl you are.' He whispered with a downturned smirk on his lips, his hips moving back and forth tortuously slow as he looked down at the expression on your face the whole time. Of course, you couldn't help the flustered look on your cheeks as he admired the way your tits bounced up and down, his hands moving towards your legs to push them up, making them curl agaisnt your chest, it made you look even smaller than you already were, his own breath hitching at the thought.

━╋

After a few whiny moans, you tried to say something, anything, just to let him know that you were close to the edge—but you didn't have to, he already knew once he saw you rolling your eyes back, your toes curling and your back trying to arch.. but he wouldn't let you, since his hand was still pressing down on your stomach, watching how it showed the bulge of his cock everytime he moved inside of you, picking up some pace.

'You're gonna cum for me already, huh? you wanna cum all over my cock baby.. Then go ahead.' He talked to you once more, encouraging you to do so; And all you could do was let out a weak 'Uh huh', nodding your head a few times. His fingers kept rubbing around your clit, making you moan endlessly and he leaned down to kiss you on the neck with such possession, he owned you and he wanted you to know that. After a few more thrusts, you couldn't take it anymore, you couldn't hold it in any longer so after a loud whimper you finally came all over his cock.. your juices covering him while his fingers went back up to your hips, holding you still as you clenched around him after your orgasm took over, which drove him right to the edge.

'Oh fuck- that pussy is gonna drive me crazy.' He let out before he came inside you with the same intensity as you did, with a last thrust he shoot all of his cum right into you, till the last drop. Your body went completely numb under his, his cock pushing back out of you slowly, both of you letting out a deep breath at the same time.

Then you moved both arms up shakily to wrap them around his torso, searching to soothe yourself after he had successfully rearranged your guts again—And Bill laid right beside you on the bed, his eyes narrowing at the sight of you, so vulnerable agaisnt his touch.. his arms wrapping themselves around you, holding you close before he quietly let out, 'All mine, you're all mine.'

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.

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 ⊹︶︶

'Billy is not ok' album;

I haven't heard the fandom talk about it once in the two years I've been listening to Tokio Hotel, I fear it's terribly underrated.

☆ It's such a good one though, all the songs are amazing, specially 'Odds are agaisnt us'. They all have such a summer/going through a heartbreak vibe to it. It's clear Bill put so much love into this project back then.

☆ I heard there was an official website before, where it sold a vinyl with 'Love don't break' as long as I know of, and a beautiful artbook. (here are some pics) But I don't know if there has been an actual release of the album, I can't find it anywhere.

| ͜ᩘ❀༘ࣧ Do y'all know anything about it?

It turned me on like hell, but I never thought that other works by this gorgeous author would make me commit suicide

༺ Tw: NSFW

★ Bill 2008 x reader.

★ Gender neutral.

★ Oral fetish.

░͟ ₊˚Imagine he's eating you out,

I know that mouth works wonders. I bet he loves giving head and watch you squirming around everytime you feel the touch of his piercing's cold bead on your sweet spot, just to make you taste yourself after you finish on his tongue everytime. 'You're so sweet' he tells you after he licks his own lips, savoring the taste of you once more; completely ecstatic about the way your legs wrap themselves around his head almost automatically whenever he makes you cum, over and over again. He's like a dog, insatiable, desperate for you; He'll even beg and cry for it, he works his tongue like it's gonna be his last meal.

━╋

He likes when you pull on his hair, definitely; searching for your eyes just so he knows it feels just as good, and readjusting his head right where you want him to be. He gets so worked up by just pleasuring you, he can't help himself but to try and grind agaisnt the mattress at the same time, just so you'd end up telling him to wait.

He whines, but he listens because he secretly likes when you handle him. In the end, he'll end up cumming on his pants, letting out a 'Fuck'. under his breath. Completely overwhelmed by your expressions and the way you sound while he's sucking you dumb. ୧ ⊹︶︶

Picture on the left says it all.

Can anyone disagree that it looks magical in this design?

_Closest thing to God I have

𒂭🌑 ever laid my eyes on_

your posts are extremely long , and don't make much sense . you babble a lot and go off the topic of the request .

Okay..? The request only stated that the fic should be with Tom, which means that the rest was up to my choice, which I actually did, deciding how long the post would be and what it would be about. Well, thank you for your opinion..?

do u take requests?? :3

Yes, sure! I want to say that everyone can leave me a request if they want to do so, so go ahead for those who have not done so yet

Do you write about Tom? I love ur writing and need one about him 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

Don't piss me off

PAIRINGS: Tom 2014 x female reader

GENRE: smut

SYNOPSIS: Quarrel – reconciliation – the closed door of the dressing room.

WARNINGS: rough sex, drunk sex, sex in public places, p in v

A/N: english is not my native language! I hope I was able to do what anon asked me to do. By the way, you can also leave your requests!!

You've always hated fan meetings before concerts. A terrifying crowd of maddened girls, pressing worse than a tank and screaming louder than all sirens, once again strove to break through the fence, behind which those that everyone dreams of, those who are unattainable, those who live in some unearthly space and smile at those same girls only from posters on top of torn wallpaper above the bed in frozen, so inanimate poses were about to appear. The girls excitedly waved their cameras, drawings, and albums, looking at a large stand full of images of the album, against which the "Kings of Suburbia" autograph session was about to begin.

Even from afar, it was sickening for you to watch, because such events definitely did not give you joy. Firstly, these fans know no boundaries and can sometimes afford too much. Secondly, the pressure and tension scratching from within does not let go, holding him in a tight prickly embrace – your lover is not at all shy to flirt in response. Of course, of all the famous four, it was he who happened to become an honorary "womanizer." They're just fans who can't even dream of being in your shoes. Their only pleasure is to get an autograph of their favorite idol and take a photo as much as possible so that "all the friends will definitely get jealous." That's how you always calmed yourself down in order to extinguish the growing flames of jealousy inside. The pretense of arrogance at the sight of all these young screaming girls was rapidly transformed into a mixture of suffocation and a kind of despair – oh, how you wanted to come up and just take Tom away from here from prying eyes. From their eyes. And if Bill, Gustav and Georg behave more restrained at the autograph sessions, limiting themselves to just a smile and a short nod of the head, then the elder Kaulitz will definitely throw something out. He will sign with a marker on bare chest, without hesitation, omit a vulgar compliment or wink, deliberately touching lip piercing with tongue and thereby bringing beloved fans to ecstasy. It flattered his ego and elevated his already inflated self-esteem to the skies.

You watched in confusion as the fans came almost right up to the table, where the band members were already sitting, ready to sign CDs, photos, albums, breasts, damn it. It's funny, but there are such fans at every session. And you know everyone's reaction at the same time – Bill will blush amusingly and will put on an awkward smile, Georg will just laugh, Gustav will pretend that he is indifferent to everything as always, but Tom.. He definitely won't refuse such a request to the distraught fans. And it was incredibly annoying.

“Do you have a girlfriend, Tom?”

“I have a lot of girls.”

“Which one of you has the most fans?”

“I have it! And interestingly, they are all girls..”

“I've had sex all over the world. I would have made a great video if I could have chosen the actresses.. But then it'll probably be like porn.”

“Hey, Georg, I can give you some girl numbers so you don't get bored..”

You grinned through your teeth, ignoring the resentment rising in your throat, burning harder than the red-hot lava in the Vesuvius Gorge. Bitch, he'll never admit to reporters or fans. You desperately wanted to believe that he would admit it to himself. Always, absolutely always, Tom's conversations in all interviews were always about girls, which made it impossible to shake your personal balance from the inside. Your balance with him. You knew that all this was just a clever production move to keep the band on top of the ratings for as long as possible. God forbid that the interest of those same girls, who made up the entire fanbase, should fade away. After all, the news that the main seducer of the group had already acquired his faithful would break millions of hearts around the world. Neither Jost nor the label was an attractive prospect, and therefore you were strictly forbidden to go out with Tom together, so as not to fall into the traps of paparazzi cameras and not become a cause for gossip in the tabloid press. Everything was supposed to be kept a top secret, namely Tom's relationship with you, which has been going on for two years. The choice is harsh enough, but you were satisfied with such sacrifices. Although sometimes it seemed to you that Tom would have made a great actor – he coped too well with the role assigned to him.

During your visit to Tokyo and his, he brazenly stared at Japanese schoolgirls and, right in front of the camera, gave out his signature: “Cool short skirts!” With a funny German accent. And yet, sometimes he would show up at his hotel room with you drunk and wearing someone else's feminine perfume on his T-shirt, after which he would fall asleep almost in the hallway, content with the fate of a world-famous musician. And it was at such moments that you tried to make sure that no one could hear your sobs from the bathroom door, which was closed. You batted your eyelashes to blink the sad bitterness out of your eyes and just try to pull yourself together and not go to the younger Kaulitz's room to complain about his brother's drunken antics. Or for sincere conversations with Georg, with whom you have always had friendly harmony and mutual understanding, even in these frenzied tours, studio chores and other worries of musicians. But no, you tried to stand it all by yourself, watching from afar as your drunken body got tangled in your own T-shirt. You held on.

The edge of your worried gaze catches on a couple of girls who came up to the table and dressed quite frankly, as you noted for yourself. Bill signed the album they brought first, smiling with a marker pen, and then pushed it to Tom. The trembling hands of one of these people held the camera uncertainly, while the other whispered something in Tom's ear, which immediately made him smile. A couple photo with an idol? A kiss on the cheek and a click. Irritated by all the threads of your already wound–up nerves, you pursed your lips and watched the reaction of the elder Kaulitz – of course, to wink and sign on the cleavage area, which was specially prepared with a short top - as if to spit. It was hard for you to hold back. Yes, you and Tom were in a relationship, but this was not a reason to declare to the whole world your ownership rights to Tom. This cannot be done. This is prohibited. Now he is a star for whom the stage image is above all. But is it an image?

It went on like this with almost all the fans, even the most obviously scary ones, which made you even laugh nervously. Flirtatious glances, winks, similar insolence in the form of kisses, and most importantly, Tom's disposition and calmness towards all this fueled a raging mess of irritation and jealousy in you. Sometimes it even came to thoughts of breaking off the relationship, because seeing your boyfriend so often in the company of such insolent girls was beyond your strength. Similarly, it was beyond your strength to watch Tom briefly go somewhere with those same girls, and then come back as if nothing had happened, joining the rest of the band to pose for a photo shoot. And these two were whispering about something insanely vulgar, passing by an unsuspecting you.

“I can indulge in sex with a fan.”

The tension grew from the inside, and staff bustled about, ushering out the curious girls, who were still shouting various words of love and delight, most of them addressed, of course, to Tom. And you had a brilliant idea, in your opinion. Well, now you had to retreat faster and make your way to the balcony, from which the stage will be visible in the palm of your hand and you can watch the performance that has already amazed the whole world, so that you definitely do not lose sight of Tom, follow every movement of his strong hands caressing the guitar, and of course look at the blonde soloist in royal robes.

The guys, still under the power of emotions that did not let go after the performance, smile broadly as they walk down the corridor towards the dressing room. You knew how to sneak into the backstage area, bypassing all the guards, and you were already there shortly before the four appeared. Bill and Gustav were the first to appear in your field of vision, waving their hands in a polite and friendly manner, after which they disappeared through the door, followed by Georg.

“Well, Tom, get ready, my revenge will be sweet.” It flashed through your mind.

“Wow, what kind of people.” The bassist stretched out his vowels affably when he saw his best friend's girlfriend.

“Great, he'll play along with me!” You cunningly realized and ran up to the short-haired brown-haired man with emotions, bumping into him with hugs.

“Georg!” You tenderly extend the bass player's nickname, which is already boring to everyone, expressing sincere, genuine delight: “You were just on top! As always, the whole hall sang along with you.. You are simply the best! I am sure that all the MTV awards will be yours this year.” You babbled so fast and enthusiastically, being sure that Tom would definitely notice it.

“My princess, actually, in this group, who is the best and most talented is me.” And here you heard a familiar timbre from behind. He noticed. Wow, his ego and arrogance are right there.

“And the most humble, of course.” You squeezed out through your teeth, casually glancing at Tom, who was coming up from behind. But still pretending that you don't care about him at all, still continuing to smile, looking at Georg.

“Let him suffer.” You were being sarcastic inside yourself.

“Huh, don't tell me, he's Mr. Modesty himself.” The bassist picked up, not missing the opportunity to make fun of the elder Kaulitz.

The unhealthy twinkle in his eyes went through your whole being, causing you to feel an unpleasant chill from the inside. You were still clutching onto the T-shirt on Listing's shoulders, completely ignoring the whole world. The world Tom was in was so close that his gaze created a tremulous excitement. In the huge pockets of his jeans, Kaulitz hid his palms, which had already turned into fists, exacerbating the already tense atmosphere hovering around him.

“She's standing there, bitch, smiling, and Georg is just happy.” Tom thought to himself. “He's too polite to push his bandmate's girlfriend away from him, covering it all up with a strong friendship.”

The soloist's voice came from the dressing room, saying that he couldn't find the damn bottle of champagne anywhere.

Tom got out of the shower later than the others, tumbling out into the dressing room, where his bandmates and you were sitting on low sofas and sipping your favorite stress-relieving champagne. And Kaulitz Sr. even regretted it, entering the room last and finding a rather interesting picture – if his brother and the drummer were sitting close to each other, engaged in some kind of conversation, then you and Georg are together. You were almost snuggled up to the bass player, crossing your legs, thereby lifting the dress slightly above the knees and revealing the graceful legs that he wanted to instantly pick up and spread. He was looking at the charming curves of your figure, which you deliberately tormented with your exaggerated, horribly nauseating acting, inventing involvement in Bill's conversation about awards, nominations, producers and other show business routine for world stars. He absorbed the way your lips pressed against the glass, sipped the sparkling liquid, and then stretched into a smile for all the band members, but especially for Georg. The elder Kaulitz's interior was burning with deadly heat, comparable in temperature to the sun's core, and it could only be cooled with an entire bottle of champagne stored in the minibar. That's it, drink it in one gulp, but you can't get away from the burning sensation from the inside.

“Tom, what are you doing up there?” The voice of his younger brother brought him back to reality, and the guy stupidly blinked in order to tear his eyes away from the idyll involving his girlfriend. “I've already poured it for you.”

“Thanks, Bill, I don't want to.” A rude voice spread in the dressing room. Tom fell down next to his brother on a low sofa, wedging himself between him and Gustav. He already regretted that he had refused a cold sparkling drink, so at least he could get some relaxation. But no, Kaulitz chose to exhaust his self–control by leaning on the back of the sofa and spreading his legs wide in his trademark manner.

“Do you remember how we got drunk after a concert a couple of years ago, so that we didn't even wake up in our hotel?” You sounded cheerful. “Only Georg was sane at that time, and he also brought everyone to their senses..” You turned to the bass player, not letting go of your almost empty glass.

“Oh yeah, how can you forget that,” Bill popped an apple slice into his mouth for a snack. “Only I even woke up with a new tattoo after that incident.” And as a reaction to this, everyone laughed, even Gustav. Tom only managed a nervous, angry smile. Georg. The cloying, unpleasant sound of your cheerful voice, gargling in Tom's ears.

Georg and you were on pretty strong friendly terms, as well as with Bill and Gustav, too. Unless, at the moment, the bass player had no idea that he was the target of your little devious game against Tom. But he couldn't object openly either, because in any relationship with girls he remained calm, sane, as well as good manners and politeness.

“Do you want another drink?” Listing responded sympathetically, seeing the empty glass of his friend, you. You obediently put your glass under a new dose of alcohol, as the bottle immediately ran out.

“Thanks. You are the best friend on earth!” You smiled broadly and, not expecting such impudence bordering on excitement, you gave Georg a short kiss on the cheek. Maybe he blushed funny after that, but you didn't see it, trying to sneak a peek at Tom's reaction. Tom feigns extreme calm, trying not to fill the space with alarmed and angry sighs.

“And what does that mean? Do you want to laugh at me? To make fun of?” It was inside Tom. Kaulitz is twisted from the inside out from fucking impotence and a desire to take revenge on the girlfriend for this unspoken game on his nerves, but between these conversations about "anything" in their group and in a similar situation, it's at least indecent to sort things out. First of all, in front of my brother and colleagues. Fortunately, a good reason came up – you got up, straightening your dress and followed to the mini-bar for a new bottle, while your friends were engaged in conversations about music. And Tom gets up after you, jerking off the couch and heading towards you. Every action, every word directed against him, is hammered into the coffin of his self-love and pride. How he hates it when he is so blatantly tricked like an ignorant fool. Especially if his beloved girlfriend does it, especially in front of others. An unpleasant pressure settles in the head and prompts sharpness and impatience to rise from their inner graves. It turned out to be very ironic in relation to the guitarist. But he's not amused.

“Honey, can I have a word with you?”

Tom's alarmed and angry voice pierced into your back like a spear, while you crouched next to the minibar, taking out a bottle. You clearly felt that the elder Kaulitz was right behind you, waiting for an answer that he was interested in himself. However, he gives himself a grace period only for the first three minutes, and after that he just gets bored. Your nature silently rejoices at such a simple observation- “Oh, he's finally hurt by this. Now he's not just looking at his teenage fans.”

“Tom, wait, I need to open a bottle.” As if you were casually disavowing, continuing to ignore the already pretty angry guy. But you're happy anyway, because you've caused an emotional flurry inside him, which is definitely detonating with frenzied power right now.

”You can wait.” Kaulitz thundered, roughly snatching the bottle from your fragile hands and putting it back on the table. “You better not piss me off.”

You didn't have time to understand anything and even cast a helpless glance at the guys, who were still talking enthusiastically about something, as Tom almost jerked you out of the room and led you towards the second dressing room – the one where the band was preparing for the concert. Without even being able to react, you just followed under the pressure of a tall, strong body that instantly pushed you into an empty dressing room.

“Tom, what are you doing..” Desperately seeking understanding, but such a doomed tone of your voice spreads through the room with a barely trembling vibration. You involuntarily cringed when the guitarist's fingers pressed down on the door latch, and then you leaned your whole body against the wall and were about to move when he abruptly approached you again. It even hurt when Tom grabbed you by both hands and literally pushed you into the white surface of the wall.

“What the fuck was that just now?” Tom's steely voice sounds literally in your ears, but your vigilance is already too blunted by the effects of alcohol on an empty stomach.

“What do you mean?” You're innocently batting your eyelashes to deliberately piss Kaulitz off. You have flaming crimson cheeks, a naive smile and boundless calmness on your face. Tom's grip became stronger, and it felt like your wrists were going to crack under the pressure. You felt uncomfortable that Tom's arms had completely immobilized you. Below your waist, you start to feel a pleasant, but unbearable stretch at the mere realization of what those nimble hands can do. At concerts, all the audience as one look at the immaculate guitar solo played by those strong fingers. But none of these girls under the stage have any idea what else these fingers are capable of besides plucking strings.

“Don't pretend. Since when are you hanging around my best friend's neck? And you kiss him on the cheek? The best friend on earth, then?!” Kaulitz is already literally hissing with genuine annoyance, and you literally regret that he's completely sober.

“Mmm, don't be such a jealous bitch, Tom..” Your index finger traces his cheek, under which the muscles were tense as never before. The sinister gaze seemed to stop, incinerating the negligent girl's nature, but you really enjoyed making Kaulitz lose his temper, as if it gave you extreme pleasure.

“Yes? Are you sure you want to see what else I can be? Or.. Are you really looking at Georg already? Am I missing something?”

“No, Tom, I...”

“What?! Maybe you could have sat on his lap and rubbed your ass? Great, my girlfriend is acting like a whore!”

“Aren't you acting like a whore? So you can pick up female fans all over the world, but what do you suggest to me – just look at it and be happy? By the way, they're hanging around your neck in whole squads, and you're just glad, you damn womanizer!” You were screaming with genuine resentment and awakened seriousness.

“It's part of my image. And you got so fucked up about it that you decided to use my best friend? Eh?! Answer me!” He was openly mocking me, masking it under anger and burning irritation, which literally hurt my ribs. You listened to every word, but you didn't stop smiling, pretending to be interested and even a little afraid. My legs were shaking slightly, losing their footing, but not from exertion, but from something else.

“Well, at least that's how you noticed that I'm not an empty place for you.. But Georg is like that.. Attentive, caring, humble..” The remnants of withered superiority breed audacity, and for this audacity you have to pay a serious price.

“You've pissed me off, my doll.” He grins wryly, pressing your wrists against the wall itself, literally pouncing on you, showing that the victim, cornered by him, cannot escape. You're frozen and waiting, as if the time has disappeared, and everything around you is so inaccessible and so inanimate, and only a couple of coffee pools are intently scanning, twisting the shutter speed of both. Tom forcefully bites into your lips, now holding you tightly by both forearms and showing all the strength that is many times greater than your fragile body, does not even allow you to take an unnecessary protesting sigh, possessively crushing your pliant lips and tasting the still undissolved taste of champagne. How selfishly Tom rejoiced, feeling the subtle mumbling right on his lips and the way you brazenly bit his piercing, asking for even more, and just as furiously responded to him as much as the opportunity and the growing pressure of the guy allowed.

Tom's hands reach lower, stopping at your waist, and then dangerously close to the literally red border. The urge to get rid of it and finish what he started was already overwhelming and so oppressive, even in his loose pants, and you could feel it. Lips with a vulgar smack come off your scarlet-swollen lips, continuing their torment already lower. No matter how many of them there were, it was always not enough, his body was already shaking in feverish heat from mind-blowing desire generated by anger and possessiveness. You cried out at his peculiar kiss on the neck, finally going limp in his grip and holding onto the T-shirt on your shoulders with your nails. This cry of yours, mixed with anxiety and still hovering tension, generates a whole chain of discordant beats of the organ in your chest, which you completely owned. What Tom voluntarily gave you as a tribute, he made the biggest sacrifice of his life. But now he's still unhappy, biting your pale skin and decorating your body with pink and scarlet markings to know exactly who his girl belongs to. You were genuinely surprised that he had so much strength even after the concert, so much so that your legs were crossed at a firm waist, and under your knees it was like a stone. You could have gone limp in his grip and not even been afraid to fall, so tightly Kaulitz picked you up like a piece of fluff.

“Tom..” Your pleading whisper is lost somewhere in his man bun hair, while the guy confidently carries you towards the dressing table and in one hand literally in a second wipes away everything that was on it – plastic cups, napkins, brushes. A stinging roar instantly rang in his ears, but then again, who cared now? As soon as he saw your parted lips and tangled hair, charmingly covering one side of your chiseled, delicate face, Tom again felt how all the blood from his heart instantly rushes to the plexus under his fly, almost to painful urges.

“So you just didn't have enough of my attention, did you?” With a jerk, Kaulitz got rid of his T-shirt and kept his eyes on you, who was sitting on the dressing table by the mirror.

“Was it already impossible for me to chat with your friends and brother?” The equanimity in your feminine voice is indestructible, which burns a fine line on Tom's nerves.

“Bitch, you're looking for trouble.. Big trouble!” Tom's hands are on either side of you.

“So what are you going to do, Tom?” The sweetly drawn-out name in your voice and the subtle excitement in your body are transmitted by micro-impulses to the male nature, concentrating in the bottom of his stomach, so shamelessly cramping the space under his fly even more.

“You're making me angry on purpose, aren't you?” Tom's hand descends on your neck, gently squeezing. “Better not. Otherwise, you'll regret it, I promise.” Now a real, sticky fear rolled down your spine and froze in your throat. Still, it was scary to feel his tense breathing from above and literally not imagine what Kaulitz was capable of in a fit of uncontrollable anger.

”Tom, please..” Your pleading pronunciation is driving him crazy and twisting his steel self-control. Between you and Tom there is a tense impulse of fucking madness because of the dress that cannot be unbuttoned in any way on your back, and Tom angrily gets rid of the unnecessary fabric by simply pulling the zipper and taking off the dress that he himself bought for you in Milan, over your head and throwing it somewhere over his shoulder. You squirm, unable to move, choking out a hoarse “Tom”, surrendering to his ruthless pressure, and feeling the closeness and the urgent need to feel each other more quickly in every sense. You feel so good when Kaulitz presses down on you, forcing you to lie down on the table, and he comfortably settles between your spread legs. He's breathing heavily himself, as if he's played another concert and all the air has been forcibly drained from his concrete lungs. With a superior, mocking grin, he looks down at you, getting rid of the last interfering element, putting all the desire and impatience into these movements.

“I'll fuck you in every corner of this damn dressing room.. To make you realize that you belong to me.” The logical stress on the last word bites into your thin neck with a fairly noticeable bite. You answer him again with a ragged half-scream, even wincing at the pain of the sensations, as Kaulitz abruptly bit into your neck like a vampire, and then he touched your fresh wound with his heated tongue, without apologizing and adding to the already stuffy atmosphere even more degree. The penetration of Tom's first strong finger into an already insanely wet, heated womb paralyzes you like a discharge of twenty thousand volts, makes you sparkle like a bare wire at a power plant. For Kaulitz, your mumbling becomes the second music pleasant to his ears after the songs of his own band. It's the way you pitifully and strangled repeat his name, impaling yourself on his second finger, begging him to move more sharply, but Tom deliberately delays, plunging into your wet and narrow captivity.

“Beg me louder.” Kaulitz has the upper hand now. Tom himself understands that this is just a postponement to the most cherished, and that he himself will not last long, feeling tight under his fly. You lift your head up, wriggling like a snake, and Tom seems to take pity on you, massaging sensitive points and moving two trained fingers more actively and curling his lips in a half-sneer. He lifts your fragile back with his other hand, prompting you to change the angle, and better allow yourself to hear your precious moans, which are such a sweet balm to his ears and the pride you swatted away. You squeeze tighter, squeezing the man's strong back with your nails for support, tasting the full range of sensations in colors, as his fingers move more nimbly and actively inside you, bringing you to a peak moment. And even now it excites you to think that these fingers are meant just for you. An intense desire wakes up in you to speed up the pace, lean against his wet chest more tightly, scratch his entire back and hear a personal dose of irritated growls and half-moans in your ear.

“Please..” Clutching his shoulders, you get lost in the sensations of the inappropriately slowed pace of Tom's strong fingers from the inside, ready to whine in despair. Tom takes advantage of this and gently bites you in the neck again, planting a new hickey and licking the wounds he had already left on you. And briefly glancing at the mirror behind you, he almost shamelessly cums from the view that opened up to him – your petite back, legs spread apart, loose hair falling to your waist. “It's like she was made for porn.” He thinks cunningly and plunges his phalanges inside you again. He is excited by the thought that now his beloved will not be able to cover his own marks in such a prominent place while it is the height of summer outside. Therefore, it consolidates its success by going down to the collarbones. With a low moan, you slashed your nails across the swarthy glossy skin, causing him to whimper softly. Tom is unhappy. Tom is unhappy because you might cum right now, judging by the ragged pleading whine, and there's absolutely no need for that. In retaliation for this, you want to bite him back, but he doesn't give in, cunningly turning his head, and you have to feel the ticklish touch of his hair strands escaping from man bun on your inflamed skin.

You almost moan into his lips, which dig into the trembling centimeters of pale, moist skin with a new force from the explosive mixture of fear and pleasure. Tom quickly removes his hand and plunges both phalanges into your mouth to make you feel your own sweetness. With his other hand, he hastily pulls down his pants along with his boxers, releasing the cause of his painful urges, already hard, tight and stony, which is unbearable to endure any longer.

“Mine.” With one thrust, he plunges into you abruptly and unceremoniously, grabbing your hips tightly and holding you firmly at the right angle. “Mine..” Then he gently slaps your pale thigh, begging for a moan. You don't have time to adjust to the pace, you get lost in sensations bordering on pain and pleasure again, as from the very first seconds Tom began to intensify his thrusts, penetrating his stone penis literally to your brain cells, to the rainbow scattering in your eyes. Being in a comfortable position under a man's body and crossing your legs at his waist, you cling to his back more tightly than before as the last support, furiously catching his lips, expressing a desire to become one with him, feeling every red-hot cell of his body, every breath, every moment. Kaulitz pushes back roughly, crushing your hips hard, until it hurts, while you cling to his slippery skin, moving on to the scattering of his hair on the back of his head. Tom's strong hand grabs your already wounded neck and turns it to the side so that you don't miss the chance to look at yourself from the outside, even out of the corner of your eye, for a moment your breath even caught, and Tom, sensing this, loosened his grip on you, clinging to this place on your neck with parted wet lips.

“Look carefully!” A hoarse exhale wounds the silence with Tom's characteristic commanding tone. You squirm, accepting all his rudeness, watching as his guitar-worn hands land on your hips with a soft slap, and how exactly your and Tom's doppelgangers in the makeup mirror repeat all these movements. Your wet strands of hair are tangled between his tense fingers, and, trying to get rid of the madness that has come over him again, Tom makes a new forward movement and grabs the ends of your hair tightly, pulling. The fucking necessary power required right now blows his mind and encourages him to cling to your sweet neck, collarbones, breasts to prove who's in charge here. He doesn't even look at the range of emotions on your face, just wanting to restore his superiority and irreplaceability. He may be a stupid little boy, afraid of losing you, but that's exactly what he is, the real one. He breathes raggedly almost into your lips, moving higher again, tracing invisible patterns on your body, and once again pushing inside the seductive warmth with his aching, thirsty cock. And you're pleased to see him, so naked, even helpless, but always strong, domineering, loved, damn it, with two contradictory personalities living inside. You take these emotions and feigned frenzy for granted, completely adapting to his insatiable, thirsty rhythm and listening to his sighs, becoming one with him.

The undulating bodies moving on top of each other, glittering in the light of the lamps, completely repeat the movements from the mirror surface. And as soon as Tom catches sight of it, a desire awakens inside him to continue, but more sharply, like the surf hitting the rocks with a loud noise, so much so as to make you freeze with pleasure from each of his movements, already increasing in amplitude and frequency, like a starved beast gutting its victim writhing on the dressing table, pitiful squeaks, taking millimeter by millimeter of burning skin into its power, biting your neck, scorching your collarbones with his breath and holding your graceful legs tightly crossed on his strong male belt under your knees.

You pressed yourself into his neck, leaving a small retaliatory hickey as Kaulitz temporarily let his guard down. You beg, plead with him to move faster, to really make your eyes bloom with bright rainbow colors. You loved having sex with Tom in places like this, because the extremes, his own pressure, and peculiar risk aroused you better than various foreplay. You're still whispering his name next to his ear, exhaling painfully into his wet, scratched shoulder. His sighs form into full-fledged moans in response, and you realize that he is already close. Because that's how Tom moans, only when discharge is already close and approaching by leaps and bounds. But he's still pressing into you, also holding you under the small of your back for the best angle, breathing hotly into your collarbone and barely audibly sobbing from touching your nails to the fresh scratches covered with perspiration. He thrusts greedily, exploding under the onslaught of his own hot nature, still not losing his goal to break so deep that the whole corridor can hear your deafening, longed-for scream. And he doesn't care what his brother, bandmates, or the rest of the staff say later. He doesn't care about that. With a loud growl, Tom comes, holding your unresisting body more tightly under him, not moving himself for a while, but still pulsating inside the coveted, warm tightness that is designed specifically for him, exploding with another chain of micro-explosions, like bright fireworks on a dark night, flowing between your thighs with a whitish viscosity. And you and Tom were still motionless, both of you, catching your frantically ragged breath. And now he gives you the opportunity to look into his eyes clouded with flaming sweetness and hug him by the neck, touching his hair in an already disheveled man bun, pull him closer to you and give him a warm, now truly tender kiss.

“Tom..” You emit directly into his lips, tracing the contour of his face with your finger, tickling your own skin with his beard, tracing all the perfections and non-existent imperfections, admiring the perspiration on his forehead, long fluffy eyelashes that are still trembling anxiously, admiring how he is now, exclusively for you alone, not at all for those girls who flirt in vain at concerts and they'll never get a thousandth of the kind of heaven that's reserved for you, and you're thrilled about it.

“Do you understand now that it's better not to anger me?” Tom's smiling exhale and his fingers on your chin, encouraging you to look directly at him.

“Mm, I'll think about it..” You're flirting jokingly, tilting your head to the side. “If you don't piss me off anymore first.”

“You're shameless..” Kaulitz's quiet voice stirs you up from the inside to little goosebumps on your skin, turning into a long kiss on the shoulder. “And I really love you like this.”

“Which one is it?”

“When you're ready to show how much you love me, you come up with something like that, my princess..”

You want to memorize every relaxed emotion of Tom, touch his face with your fingers again. And he means by his whole appearance that he likes this kind of game. And you want to admire forever how his eyes burn even brighter than all the heavenly stars in almost black pools and share their endless warmth that will cover even in the most dank cold.

“But it doesn't have to be done at all. I am only yours..” He whispered affectionately, plastering his cheek against your palm like a kitten, tickling you with his beard again. Tom leans over you, watching the humility and then complete acceptance flounder in the palette of your gaze, carefully stroking the skin of your cheeks, delicately running his thumb, removing the interfering dark strands behind your ear and simply admiring you.

“The sly one!” A kiss on his lips and now complete calmness. “Then.. I'll try to make you more angry next time..”

Path to Redemption

PAIRINGS: Bill 2010 x female reader

GENRE: fluff & smut

SYNOPSIS: The young man's dry lips touched your neck with a smeared kiss, and the man's hand rested on your narrow waist, feeling the pleasant silk fabric under the pads of his fingers. “Am I forgiven?” Bill asked hopefully, continuing to kiss your slender neck. “I don't know,” You said mockingly, turning your head to the side, meeting the black eyes opposite.

WARNINGS: drunk sex

A/N: english is not my native language! It's a bit short and without details, sorry. I want to thank everyone very much for such activity, it's the first time for me to receive so much attention, thank you all very much!!

A light breeze gently penetrated into the bedroom, bringing with it the freshness of springtime. The silence, interrupted from time to time by the passing sounds of cars, created a calm atmosphere. The wall clock, which had already marked one o'clock ten minutes ago, reminded of the passing time. In the midst of all this, in a comfortable hotel room, you were quietly falling asleep, comfortably wrapped in starched snow-white blankets. You were breathing peacefully, periodically turning from one side to the other. But the sound of the door opening, as well as the attempt to close it as quietly as possible, was clearly a failure, because your sensitive hearing detected the appearance of someone else. This "someone" clumsily tried to take off his huge black shoes, and also grumbled with displeasure at the next setback.

You recognized that grunting and barely heard swearing in German right away. Sleepily standing on the cold floor, you gave up trying to find your slippers, going to the source of the sounds with your bare feet. The culprit of your unlucky dream was leaning on a locker in the hallway, trying to keep his balance, which obviously wasn't going well. The young man was standing with his back hunched over, and the familiar light windbreaker had long been lying a little apart from the shelf. You crossed your arms, watching your boyfriend's clumsiness, as well as his futile attempts to do something.

“Help?” Suddenly, a woman's voice made Bill start and turn around sharply. You were standing nearby in a dark blue nightgown, watching with a barely visible grin.

Exhaling in relief, the guy broke into a drunken smile. “Baby, you scared me.” He replied hoarsely, straightening up.

“Can you imagine how you scared me with your loud bang? I thought someone was after me!” You chuckled, coming closer.

“I'm sorry. I really tried to be as quiet as possible..” With typical Kaulitz sincerity, he apologized, lowering his head.

You softened your gaze by taking a man's hand in yours. “I heard you got hurt during the concert today, does it hurt much?” You asked with genuine concern, running your fingers over Bill's bandaged hand.

“It's okay, but I almost fainted from the sight of blood.” The brunette giggled.

“And you decided to forget what you saw with the help of booze? Or what? You usually prefer not to drink too much, but now you can't even take off your shoes on your own!” You shook your head, squatting down, helping him out of the high platform of his favorite boots.

“I didn't mean to. The guys just insisted and wouldn't let go!” Somehow taking off his uncomfortable shoes, the guy continued: “I told them that my princess was waiting for me, but they didn't believe it..”

“Just don't suck up now. You know perfectly well that I'm angry!” You furrowed your eyebrows, continuing: “I was hoping that at least today we would spend the evening together, but instead, you're back with your band, which you're almost married to!” Rolling your eyes, you blurted out, walking back towards the bedroom.

Kaulitz immediately hurried after your departing figure, tripping over the damn carpet in his manner. A guy on his own often bumps into something, and if he's not sober, he can fall or injure himself out of the blue. Cursing the stupid carpet, Bill followed you into the bright bedroom and saw you sitting on the edge of the bed with your back to him. And he's willing to bet that you're frowning at the panoramic window right now, pursing your lips into a thin line. After standing at the door for a while, he slowly walked deeper into the small room, sitting on the edge of the bed on the opposite side. The singer's head was spinning now because of the whiskey he had drunk, and nothing came to mind but to crawl up from behind and hug the fragile female shoulders, circling, hugging.

“Well, I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to upset you..” He apologized softly, hugging you tighter, burying himself somewhere in your collarbone. You didn't say anything, still sitting with your arms crossed. “Do you want to come back here to Paris after the world tour? Just you and me. What do you say?” Kaulitz was already taking more significant actions. If only the ice between you would melt and you would stop sulking.

“Really?” You asked the question softly, with a less caustic tone.

“It's really true..” The brunette whispered in your ear, feeling the girl's tense shoulders relax, meaning that the guy had found a point of contact. The young man's dry lips touched your neck with a smeared kiss, and the man's hand rested on your narrow waist, feeling the pleasant silk fabric under the pads of his fingers.

“Am I forgiven?” Bill asked hopefully, continuing to kiss your slender neck.

“I don't know,” You said mockingly, turning your head to the side, meeting the black eyes opposite: “I still have an unpleasant sediment.” Your slender hand touched the singer's sharp cheekbone, gently stroking.

“I will do everything so that you no longer feel this "sediment".” The young man said reassuringly, before clinging to your parted lips. The native taste with notes of the distant sensation of "Glenfarclas" on the tongue surprised you. How long does Scottish alcohol last that even after such a long time you can catch the familiar taste of bitterness. Every touch of the skin, every movement of the lips is perceived by your senses, making you tremble from the energy that permeates from the inside. Bill ran his hot tongue over your lower lip, as usual, pulled in your upper lip, and then deepened the kiss to the bright stars in your eyes.

Kaulitz gradually moved to your sharp collarbones, slightly biting the pale skin, leaving small marks. You tilted your head to the side, giving more space for the greedy kisses that the German so passionately gave. Soft moans escaped from your lips, your eyelashes trembled slightly with pleasure, the thin strap of your nightgown was brazenly lowered under the influence of Bill's hands, exposing elastic female breasts. Completely relaxed, you leaned against the guy with your whole body, and, placing your head on his shoulder, moaned once again when Bill's cold palms touched your erect nipples. The contrast between hot breath on your neck and cold hands on your chest made your head spin, and Bill's arousal pressing against your lower back made it clear that you weren't the only one in a difficult position right now.

The manicured nails of the guy scratched the inside of your thigh, adding sharpness. Bill bit his lips until they bled, just not to moan with you in unison, because just the feeling of a pliant body in his own hands, caressing sighs full of pleasure, and the damn strong pressure of tight jeans pushed him to whine pitifully with impatience. Cold hands picked you up and laid you on the bed, and Kaulitz himself hung over you, looking at you with undisguised lust. He wanted to tear off the remnants of the rags hiding your seductive girlish body, and with the same fervor squeeze you into himself, taking everything without a trace. But instead, the brunette slowly lifted the hem of your dress up, throwing the already noticeably wet underwear aside. You were incredibly glad that the lights were off and you wouldn't have to be embarrassed by your nakedness again. But even so, the singer still stared there, licking his lips hungrily.

“Devil! Bill, stop looking! How many times have I asked!” Shyly squeezing your eyes shut, you tried to close your thighs. But the man's hands crossed the desire to hide, spreading your legs back anyway.

“It's not the first time we've done this, so why are you still so shy?” The German chuckled, continuing: ”You're just very beautiful..”

“God, spare me such compliments, especially those made at such a moment!” With your eyes fixed on the side, you asked.

“Good. I will not. Just don't stop looking at me.”Cuddling between my thighs, the guy gave me an ultimatum. Your eyes met the deep black depths again, into which it seemed it would be ideal to plunge and stay forever in this mysterious darkness.

“And why do you get so bold when you drink? You don't set any conditions for me when you're sober.”

Kaulitz didn't say anything, just gently brushed his lips over your inner thigh, knocking your breath away. The coffee-colored eyes still seemed to stare into your very soul, and the rough tongue stroked your crotch tightly, tearing a sweet moan from you. The wet flesh took the caresses extremely well, constantly contracting as his metal piercing bead teasingly slid over your sensitive spot. Pressing his fingers against the front wall of your vagina, Bill found the G spot and continued to stimulate your clitoris with his tongue.

The room was filled with wet sounds, vulgar smacking and feminine sighs. The hot tongue collected the plentifully flowing lubricant, preventing at least one drop of the thick liquid from leaking. Your hands are buried in the guy's black, coarse hair, generously varnished, pulling his face closer. Your hips instinctively moved towards him in order to enhance the sensations. The pace increased and the moans became louder each time, signaling that very soon you would reach the peak. Kaulitz knew all your weaknesses too well, and he took advantage of them. Not a single movement of the nimble tongue remained unnoticed, causing an irresistible range of emotions.

“Bill..” You whispered his name, thereby tearing down the German's tower completely. He fucking loved it when you moaned his name uncontrollably. “I'm going to..” Your toes curled up, your back arched, and a high-pitched scream indicated that you had reached your climax. You collapsed back onto the pillow, panting and squinting your eyes. Bill pulled away from your limp body, finally licking the remnants of lube on his lips, looking with shining eyes at the work done, and the result, without words, was excellent. Kaulitz's trademark half-smile formed by itself, too pleased, cat-sweet.

“Do I deserve your forgiveness now?” He whispered, running his nose over your cheekbone.

“Quite.” You chuckled wearily. Your gaze dropped to Bill's jeans, which were still bulging with an erection, causing a quiet laugh. “Come to me..” You pulled him towards you, luring him into a kiss.

The whole night is still ahead.

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.

Art of Loving

PAIRINGS: Bill 2009 x female reader

GENRE: fluff & smut

SYNOPSIS: “Your mom hates me..” She'll definitely yell at him if she sees all those hickeys you gave him. Bill laughs with you, snuggling closer to himself. “Don't worry,” he starts, playing with your hair. “My mom hates me too..”

WARNINGS: sex, p in v, poor relationship with mother, eating disorder, self-esteem issues

A/N: english is not my native language! I'll say in advance that there is a time discrepancy here, since Bill's piercing described in the story was done later.

A strong wind and heavy rain were running through the streets of Magdeburg. Thunder roared in the thick clouds, and lightning frolicked somewhere nearby. The streets of Magdeburg are damp and fresh. People are gloomily walking about their business, busily holding colored umbrellas over their heads. But you and Bill are in your warm, cozy apartment, drinking raspberry tea and sitting on the balcony, watching people and dogs jumping merrily through shallow puddles.

“Hey, Schatz?” Bill's hoarse voice distracted from the dampness of the city.

You flinch and look at him. “Yes, Bill?” There's a cigarette smoldering in your hands. You and Bill.. Old friends.

His pale honey-colored eyes are directed into yours, and he asks with full seriousness, frowning: “Would you love me if I were a worm?”

You laugh out loud, hiding your face in your hands. Bill is still serious. Through your laughter, you say, “Listen, have you been taking anything?” You put out your cigarette on the iron railing of the balcony.

The brunette mutters indignantly, “I'm just curious! Well, answer me seriously!” He frowns and purses his lips resentfully.

“Okay, okay. Yes Bill, I will.” You smile and kiss Bill's broken knuckles, his wounds contrasting strongly against his pale skin. You're frowning. “Where did you get your knuckles hurt like that?”

The grin on his pale face began to play. “I hit the wall, Schatz. Because I'm an angry teenager.”

You let out a small laugh and stroke his hands. “An angry teenager who is 19 years old? Very interesting.” Bill rolls his eyes and clucks.

“And why did you hit the wall? She didn't do anything to you.” You mock him, you smile.

The brunette shakes his head, leaning his hands on the railing, rubbing his painted eyes. “She called me a jerk. What an idiot. Can you believe it?” He looks at you hopefully. You shake your head, laughing, and pull him by the back of his head, gently kissing his mole under his lower lip.

Kaulitz lifts the corners of his lips. “I don't deserve you, Schatz. You're amazing.. I'm just a piece of trash.”

“Stop it, Bill. Your depression shouldn't affect my attitude towards you in any way. You're wonderful.” You easily lift his black sweater, run your fingers over his protruding ribs.

Bill is painfully thin.. He smiles, wincing slightly at the tickle. “Okay, okay, but I still don't understand how you can love me after all that I've done. You're crazy, Schatz. You're an alien.”

“You've revealed my secret!” You laugh softly and kiss his thin, pale neck, removing his dark dreadlocks so as not to interfere.

Kaulitz lifts you up in his arms, holding you by the buttocks. “Come on! I've been waiting for this for so long! Give me your sweet lips..”

You shake your head and frown. “Bill, I'm fat, don't lift me up.” You kiss his neat nose. You can't kiss, it'll cloud your minds, blow your mind off. You feel like he's putting you on the balcony railing. Dangerous. Nice.

Bill presses his weathered, rough lips to yours, the taste of nicotine and berries in his mouth, the wind blows harder, hugs your shoulders, plays with the hem of your shirt, under which only underwear is. “You and I are such good friends, aren't we?” You're smiling, mocking me again.

You feel Bill kissing your neck, gently but biting. See how his hands are shaking. Just a second ago, you were just standing there and having a heart-to-heart conversation. He kisses you wetly and buries his long fingers in your hair. The night sky is covered with stars, like rhinestones on a black velvet fabric.

You wrap your long legs around his pelvis, wrap your frozen fingers around his neck. He holds you tightly by the waist, preventing you from falling from the tenth floor. Your short hair is blowing in the wind, his eyes are completely black, the pupil overlaps his bright amber iris. Tears are streaming from your eyes, you don't understand why.

He whispers, breathing heavily, “I.. Love you..” Lips are joining, rain and wind are hitting in the face, teeth are trembling from the cold. Your bodies are hot despite the cold outside. The skin touches, burning each other. You can feel him biting your tongue and lips. Heartbeat is pounding in temples, and ears are throbbing. Bill's hands creep under your thin shirt, stroke your delicate skin, he does not leave your lips, kisses are more and more ragged, dirty, wet.

Your chest is heaving. Both of them have wet hair from the rain. Bill looks into your eyes, and.. Smiling. You smile back and hold him close, massage his scalp, catch a sigh from his lips. You drop your head on his shoulder, breathing heavily.. You laugh and kiss his bare collarbone: “Your mom hates me..” She'll definitely yell at him if she sees all those hickeys you gave him.

Bill laughs with you, snuggling closer to himself. “Don't worry,” he starts, playing with your hair. “My mom hates me too. She always hated all my girlfriends. She still wants me to be with that empty-headed blonde from my school, her friend's daughter. But I don't give a fuck.. I'm not doing this for her, but for you.” He hugs you tighter and kisses you on the forehead.

You smile and kiss his plump, bitten lips. “Stop biting them, seriously.”

“I can't, Schatz.” He gently kisses your neck, the touch of his lips makes goosebumps run through your body. His hair tickles your body. Some gloomy passerby shouts at you, calling your actions disgusting and depraved, and that you shouldn't do it, because people see them.

Bill pulls away from your lips, looks at you coldly and gives him his middle finger. He looks back at you and kisses you on the forehead. “Do you want more, Schatz?”

“Pervert.” You kiss his nose. Bill has tongue piercings, eyebrows, septum, and snake bites lips. You gently run your thumb over his lip piercing. “Your mom scolded you for the punctures, didn't she?” You're smiling slyly. Bill gently kisses your finger.

“She tried to stop me, but I'm 19, and I do whatever I want with my body. With her screams, she even gives more reason to disobey.” He lets out a chuckle. Bill's mother thinks you're spoiling him. You have a lot of piercings yourself. He lifts his hands under your shirt and runs his icy fingers over your hot skin.

“By the way.. How's your math score? Does your mom already know?” You stroke his face, kiss his forehead, and remove the strands of hair that get in his way.

“She doesn't know yet. The mother will scream, again. She's always screaming about everything.” He kisses you behind the ear, and softly whispers, “Let's skip school tomorrow? Let's say you're sick. We'll be alone in my room all night. Just you and me..”

“I'd love to, but this will be your fifth absenteeism in a month. You'll be expelled, and your mother will hate me even more.” You smile and laugh briefly, even though it's not really funny at all.

He kisses your whole face. “I don't care. I absolutely don't give a fuck about my mother and my studies, I'm so tired of this shit. The only thing I care about is you. You and my desires. Will you stay with me tomorrow, or are we going to continue our argument all night?”

“I love you.” You're kissing his own plump lips. “But, let's take all the exams for five first, okay? I'll help you fix the deuce. Especially considering that you've already passed 4 exams perfectly! Now pass the math and that's it!” You stroke his hair. “What are you going to do after school?”

He strokes your face and kisses your ear, whispers in a hoarse voice: “I haven't decided yet, I have at least a month ahead of me. But first, I'm going to do some wonderful things with you tonight..”

You smile and slap him on the forehead. “You're good at drawing. Why don't you go to an art academy? Like me.”

He kisses you and squeezes you like you're a toy. Finally he pulls away. “Well, I'll think about it. But I don't know. Maybe I'll accept your offer.”

Three weeks have passed since that day. Bill's mother kicked him out of the house when he told her that he was going to art academy, and not to study medicine, as she wanted. Actually, it was expected, so now he lives with you, in your apartment.

Today is an important day - Bill's graduation. You stand and stare at him when he comes on stage to collect his red diploma for his patience and hard work. You're very proud of him.

He was dressed in a classic black suit, and a dark red tie stood out against his snow-white shirt. Yours, by the way. A short jacket was draped over his shoulders, loose trousers were put on, and he tied his dreadlocks into a low ponytail, not wanting to annoy the director with his appearance even more. He was so incredibly handsome and terribly uninterested in the praise of the director and the many teachers who came out to say their last words to him. Most of the students in the junior, middle and senior grades were crying from the realization that they would not see him again.

His father is standing next to you, and on the other side is Tom, who has already collected his diploma. The mother of the twins did not attend the ceremony, being offended, because besides her, everyone supported your relationship with Bill. His family is very proud of him, looking at him with smiles on their faces.

Bill catches your eye and winks, waving his hand at you. He fascinated you with his appearance. You smile and wave back at him, playfully blowing him a kiss. Bill is embarrassed when he finally picks up his "cherished" diploma, he comes down to you, and you meet him with a large bouquet of white daffodils. He takes your hand, smiling happily, and takes a step back, pulling you in so that you don't interfere with the other graduates and their parents. You rise on tiptoe, you feel his happy, loving gaze on you. He kisses you on the cheek, blushing, and you can hear his sweet laugh for a couple of moments, as if the world ceases to exist around you, as if you are alone in the whole boundless universe. You hear loud screams and applause. The boys from the twelfth grade released a pair of white pigeons into the sky.

“Congratulations, my graduate!” You're smiling.

Bill's father and Tom come up to Bill and hug him tightly, patting him on the shoulder, congratulating him on graduating from high school with excellent grades. Bill smiles sheepishly. Many of his friends and acquaintances also congratulated and said goodbye to him. But his eyes were only on me.

“I did it only because of you, Schatz. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have graduated with good grades.” He kisses your cheekbone with his rough lips, and then you can feel them on your lips.

“I'm proud of you!” You kiss him on the forehead, hugging him tightly.

Time has passed, Bill is already in his second year of fashion design, and you are in your third year of architecture. You're sitting together on the bedroom floor in your cozy little apartment. Bill makes sketches for his new collection of clothes, and you build accurate building plans. Kaulitz leans towards you, keeping his hand on your hip. You see that he uses you as a reference, like a living mannequin.

You stare at him and blush when he looks up at you with his piercing brown eyes. “What are you drawing, Bill?”

“I'm painting you, Schatz. You look like a model.”

You bend over to him and kiss his temple, seeing his satisfied smile. He wraps his long fingers around your face and lowers himself down, kissing your neck, whispering in your ear: “You don't even know how often I draw you.. You are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. And this beauty exists only for me. You're like a rare diamond that I'm hiding in my hands..”

He kisses your neck again, going down to the hollows of your collarbones, his hands slide up and down your thighs, gently scratching them with his black nails and squeezing, leaving barely visible traces. You smile and kiss his cheeks, stroking them with your thumbs.

“We should not be distracted from our work. The session is coming up, which means that the teachers won't be very happy if they see that we haven't drawn anything yet.” You touch your lips to the mole under his lower lip.

He clicks. “We can't, you're right, but I can't concentrate when you're next to me, honey. Your presence is already making me forget everything. You are my universe.” You can feel his hot lips on your neck, again. He whispers, scorching your thin skin with his hot breath: “My dear..” He kisses you on the line of your lower jaw. “My love.” His lips slide sideways, onto your adam's apple, biting weakly. “My diamond.” He's grabbing your artery with his teeth. “My everything.” He runs a wet path with his tongue. “I love you, Schatz.”

His lips are right next to your ear, his tongue is playing with the auricle, and his lobe with several metal rings is being playfully bitten. A wave of goosebumps envelops your body. You pull him by the back of his head and kiss his sweet, plump lips. You feel him sitting you on his lap, running your fingers over his chest through his black T-shirt, gently massaging his tense, tired shoulders. Bill either sighs or moans, throws his head back, wraps his arms around your waist, running his fingers along your back. His tongue slides between your lips, moistening you better than any lipstick, he lays you back on the cold floor, strewn with your sketchy works. Some of them stay under you, but it's not that fucking important. The only thing that matters to you right now is him. And the works can be redrawn.

Your bodies are pressed against each other, his lips don't leave yours, and you can feel him breathing heavily. He pulls away from you, but he's still holding you tight. He takes off his T-shirt, and you look at his big tattoo on his left side. Beautiful. Your legs were wrapped around his pelvis, your body trembled with anticipation in his arms. He smiles at you tenderly, picks you up in his arms and gently lays you on the bed, taking out a lubricant and condoms from the bedside table. He's kissing you again.

“What would you like to do today, honey? Standard or..” His lips stretch into a twisted grin.

“Pervert..” You lightly pinch his forearm and feel how he roughly turns you over on your stomach, lifting you up, forcing you to arch your back. Bill carefully places several pillows under you, adjusting the height that is comfortable for both of you.

“That's what I'm talking about, Schatz.” He presses his chest against your naked body, biting and kissing the back of your neck. He kisses your ear, bites your earlobe. You can feel the young man descending lower, showering your entire back with kisses and hickeys, leaving traces of his teeth in some places. His belt buckle is cold, metallic, pressed against your belt. Kaulitz sinks lower, you can feel his hot breath below.

Bill bites his buttock, kisses it, and massages the other with his strong hand. His lips slide down the inside of your thighs, to your bent knees and calves. He rises higher again, his lips touching you below. You're trembling with pleasure. He savors it, running his tongue between your labia and collecting moisture, smacking his lips, stroking your thighs and buttocks. His cold tongue piercing touches your clitoris, and with a loud groan, you jump up in bed as if you've been electrocuted. You can hear him chuckle.

Bill kisses slowly, wetly, sucks each crease in turn, and you feel his piercing ball gently sink into the hole, making you sob. Bill slides his hot and damn long tongue into your vagina, making you moan. His tongue slides over the wet walls, draws patterns, rubs the barbell in his tongue. You bury your face in the pillow, sobbing loudly and moving your hips towards it. Bill penetrates you with his fingers, without removing his tongue, and leaves a slap on your buttock as you lean forward, slipping away from him. His fingers spread inside in the manner of scissors, stroking the walls, moving like a wave, while he kisses your back, whispering reassuringly in your ear. You can't make out anything anymore.

“Princess..” His fingers work faster and rougher, penetrating deeper, scratching the walls. You sob loudly and move your hips towards him. You're close to the peak, and Bill knows it. He smiles slyly and slows down terribly much. His lips travel down your spine, leaving wet trails. Soon his fingers leave you altogether, with an indecent squish. Impatiently, you hear his belt buckle rattle and his jeans rustle as he throws them away.

You can feel him opening the lubricant and gently sliding his cold, greased fingers into you. A groan escapes from chest. Bill puts his cock in, sliding slowly and carefully deeper and deeper, making you moan. His hands gently stroke your hips, and he begins his movement. His thrusts are smooth, sensual. Bill carefully pulls your short hair into a ponytail and kisses your neck. You swallowed hard, your adam's apple twitched, and Kaulitz ran his long fingers curiously over it. He squeezed your throat experimentally, and you sob, throwing your head back in pleasure, closing your eyes. You want it to never end.

His thrusts gradually accelerate, the bed starts to creak softly, and Bill thrusts into you more fiercely. With each strong thrust, his hand tightens more noticeably on your neck, pulling more and more moans out of you. His rhythm is frenzied, the skin of his thighs collides with his buttocks, creating indecent slaps, natural lubricant and purchased oil mix and squish. Bill breathes raggedly, occasionally does not hold back and moans, driving his cock deeper, sharper, whispers compliments, kissing and biting hard on your shoulders, his voice occasionally breaks. He slows down abruptly, trying to catch his breath, teasing, barely swinging his hips. Holds you firmly in place, not giving you the opportunity to move back.

“Ask me, honey.. Ask for it, Schatz..” He's breathing heavily, his hands are shaking, squeezing your hips.

“Bill.. Bill, please.. please..”

He smiles contentedly and starts thrusting roughly, squeezing your ass and thighs painfully, moaning. The moment of climax overtakes you at the same time, he abruptly enters you as deeply as possible, and through a thin condom you feel his hot sperm. You're breathing heavily. You feel Bill pick you up in his arms and carry you to the bathroom..

You're both tired but happy, you're lying on Bill's chest, tickling him with your wet hair. His black T-shirt absorbs moisture. You're slowly falling asleep. Your drawings were still lying on the floor.

“Thank you for this wonderful evening, Schatz.” He kisses you on the forehead, smiling like a fool. You kiss the corner of his mouth and bite the guy's lower lip, gently pulling back his piercing and releasing it, fully kissing his plump lips.

“I love you.”

“And I love you more, baby.” He takes your hand and gently kisses your fingers. His lips slide to your wrists, nibbling lightly on the thin skin. You bury your fingers in his damp hair, and you feel yourself finally falling asleep.

The only thing you hear is this.. “Good night, Schatz. You deserve it. I hope you'll see me in your dreams.” He lifts the corners of his lips and you pass out.

Still, it's a good story.

Just about the two of you.

Guardian of Shadows

PAIRINGS: guardian angel Bill 2009 x female reader

GENRE: smut

SYNOPSIS: Bill is a young man who crashed in a terrible accident 30 years ago. Bill is always smiling, patient and calm. He is vulnerable, romantic and once happy but.. In the last years of working, being your guardian angel, he only feels despair, deep despair, regret that he cannot show himself to you, cannot touch you, cannot feel the heat of your body. Because it's wrong, it's so far away and it doesn't matter.

WARNINGS: gentle sex, p in v, voyeurism

A/N: english is not my native language! I wanted to write an angst, but it turned into something that I was ashamed to write, especially for the first time

The room is shrouded in thick darkness, obscuring all objects in the room, and only a laptop with unfinished project work was still on the bedside table, with the screen turned into the wall - you didn't want to stumble upon pervert hackers.

You are lying on a cool bed, a young girl, gently clutching the sheets and breathing heavily. Your thoughts are spinning in your head at breakneck speed, and your shoulders are so tired of the burden of educational materials and the endless work of the florist. You decide to let yourself relax a little, at least to distract yourself from the annoying problems with finances and philosophy debts.

A woman's hand gently and weightlessly slides up and down the clitoral mound, while soft sighs escape from heavy lungs. Hips kept swinging weakly, and at particularly sensitive moments they jumped above the tenderness of the sheet, however, this was not enough, not enough. Couldn't get enough of everything that the hand was doing, would have liked something more, not so childish and innocent, something sharp, harsh, rude.

Wavy, short hair was scattered on the pillow in different directions, eyes were closed and eyebrows were pulled together. Chest and flat stomach often heaved, as if they were swinging on a child's swing, and loose shorts slid closer to the groin area, exposing thighs due to knees bent at an acute angle. Fingers tried to wander faster and sharper, but the desired relief still wouldn't come. A sigh of despair escapes from chest, circling in the air, and beckoning him.

He heard how bad you were. He was always there for you, always gently squeezing your shoulders, trying to cheer you up, but you never saw or felt him. And it was so frustrating, it made suffocate in despair and slip back into the dark corner of the room, watching from afar. Maybe it was a chance to help. To make you finally see, finally feel his presence next to you.

Bill is a young man who crashed in a terrible accident 30 years ago. Bill is always smiling, patient and calm. He is vulnerable, romantic and once happy but.. In the last years of working, being your guardian angel, he only feels despair, deep despair, regret that he cannot show himself to you, cannot touch you, cannot feel the heat of your body. Because it's wrong, it's so far away and it doesn't matter.

You're about to turn 20, and it's been 20 years since he's been your guardian, and 20 years since you even knew he existed. There is a limit to everything.

He rushes towards you, from the dark corner of your room, exhausted by the desire to touch your girlish body. Bill was the same age when he died, when his whole family mourned him at the coffin, while his portrait smiled at them from the tombstone.

You shudder and your eyes open wide in disbelief, your cheeks burn with shame and your hands tremble under his tenacious grip. You know him. He came to you in your dreams and made you happy. He's sure that you imagined his image when you were satisfying yourself. But now it's his turn to make you feel good, to make you scream his name. And don't care what the Supreme Court says, don't care what the celestials and God say. He's finally going to be with you.

Your slender hands bury themselves in his dark white dreadlocks, pull his hair back and he moans, pressing his whole ghostly body against you. He kisses you softly, runs his tongue over your tender bitten lips and collects tiny droplets of blood.

You pull him towards you and whisper. “You haven't appeared in my dreams for a long time.. I was worried.”Of course you were worried. And he personally saw how every morning, waking up and not seeing him next to you, you cried into your pillow, hugging tightly and imagining that it was him.

Bill kisses you soothingly on the forehead and gently pulls off your clothes, enjoying how damn cute you are, embarrassed, trying to cover up. He takes your hands away and kisses you, gently and lovingly, taking your wet fingers into his mouth. You sigh, tremble all over, and breathe convulsively into his neck. He explores your whole body, without taking his dark eyes off your face, sinking lower, lower, lower..

You jump as if you've been electrocuted, and strong arms hold you in place. The bulky cold rings on his fingers painfully dig into your delicate skin, but this is offset by his plump, hot lips on you, below. His lips pull in the bead of your clitoris and gently, gently kiss your folds, running his sharp tongue between them.

He gently strokes the inside of your thighs with his long fingers, tracing patterns on them that are invisible and only understandable to him, his tongue penetrates inside. Bill is pleased to hear you repeat his name over and over again, like a mantra or prayer before God. Although.. To hell with God. Today he is your god, and no one else.

Your warm thighs gently squeeze his head as he connects his angelic fingers with tongue, penetrating deep into your heart, sucking your tenderness with his tongue. Your hands slide between his strands of hair, gently massaging his scalp and drawing contented sighs from him, which immediately mix with your own.

Your whole body is covered in his bites and the scarlet spots that he left you as a gift. His own shoulders were completely bitten, and it was a stigma, the best stigma of his life. Better than what God left on his left forearm. Much better.

His angelic robes are lying on the floor, in the darkness of the room, mixed with your short shorts and a black T-shirt. You are innocent, and he knows this better than anyone, because he was with you 24/7, all 168 hours in seven days. You sob as he slides smoothly into you, trying to move away so as not to feel the pain, and he whispers in your ear, holding you tight and letting you get used to him.

You run your fingers through his hair, examining every inch of his body to memorize forever. You jerk your hips and Bill gets blown away..

The room is stuffy, the bed creaks and both are breathing heavily. You squeeze his strong shoulders, hold him as close to you as possible, and whimper. Beads of sweat roll down Bill's back, and he nuzzles your neck, kissing and biting your artery. The fact that both of you are doing this is taboo, it is a mockery of religion and an insult to the almighty, because all angels are innocent. Or it's just an illusion.

You dissolve into him in a long moan, he pours onto your thigh, pressing his whole body against you.