What's Wrong With Tumblr Trying To Censor Me.. Is This Happening To Anyone Else?!

I SCREAM INTO THE PILLOW, TRYING TO SUFFOCATE MYSELF WITH IT

Lust at first bite

schwerelos by devilish

'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?

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.

SHE'S BACK

Lol I know this is random again..🌚 I just have a few words to let out (im also feeling really nostalgic right now and it hurts!!)

I am “pa1n-0f-l0ve” yes, it’s me, AGAIN. I highly doubt this community is even active anymore and if it is I know it’s not the same. I know you guys are probably sick of me coming and leaving but I just wanted to apologize.

I want to apologize to anyone I ever made uncomfortable or feel upset. I know I said and did things under the persona of “pain of love” that could’ve made people feel a certain way and feel disgusted and I’m sorry. I used this community as an outlet for my hypersexuality at the time because it was getting hard for me to deal with as it was only getting worse. Yes, I still love writing and from time to time I catch myself writing privately and making ideas for stories to write. I would love to write again publicly but I don’t know if that is for me anymore since I’ve changed my style in writing from smut to more narrative and consistent plots. (Yes I still write abt tokio hotel duhhh)

Feel free to get in touch with me about anything if you’d like! No drama tho!! I’d rather not put up with that again haha

BILL IS SO CHARMING THAT I DON'T KNOW IF HE'S AN ANGEL OR A DEMON, BUT IT DOESN'T MATTER. ANY HEAVEN WILL BE TOO SCORCHING AND TORMENTING NEXT TO HIM. ANY HELL WILL BE ALLURING AND VOLUPTUOUS NEXT TO HIM. AND BILL IN THIS ERA LITERALLY MAKES MY KNEES HIT THE GROUND EVERY TIME I SEE HIM

I was used to the way her scent made me feel—

The dry ache in my throat, the hollow yearn in my stomach, the automatic tightening of my muscles, the excess flow of venom in my mouth.

✧ ۪۪My TH Collection.

+ Sneak peak of some of my posters.

I'm still trying to grow out my collection a bit more, even though I'm pretty proud of it. I still want the humanoid version in German, though I can't find it anywhere sadly! and the 2001 album, then I'll be more than happy.

By the way, most of it I got it off Vinted!

— If you don't have that option, there's a few resellers on Amazon too :)

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..”