HER OBSESSION, HIS DESPERATION.
PAIRING: bill kaulitz x fem!reader
WARNINGS|TAGS: no use of y/n, dom!fem reader, sub!bill kaulitz, pegging, riding, possessive behavior, obsessive behavior, fighting, vulgar behavior and language, aggressive behavior, blood, praising, marking, mirror sex, bill sucks her strap, fingering m!receiving, rough sex, use of mature nicknames such as mommy, and more.
SUMMARY: bill’s new casual hookup turns obsessive and becomes way more than “casual” after she busts a glass over a man’s head for flirting with him.
NOTES: thank you for reading guys!! i love sub!bill x femdom!reader so much, honestly my favorite trope so anytime i get an idea about it, i’m writing about it. i write consistently lol so i have tons of stuff saved or even in progress (including your alls requests! do not worry, it might take me a bit but they will all be posted, i promise!)
Friday. December 18th, 2009. 11:30PM.
The strobe lights of the club flickered violently, painting Bill and his friends in vivid, dramatic colors. He was having fun, a drink in his hand, sitting in a private booth at his favorite club with his closest friends, unwinding for the night. He was letting loose for once, enjoying himself. He brushed hair out of his face, taking a drink of his margarita he ordered himself, his cheeks flushed, talking to his friend who kept on repeating a story he had heard a thousand times before.
He didn’t mind to listen again. He loved his friends and he loved any time he was able to go out and spend time with them, it being the only time he could ever allow himself a moment to just be himself and breathe without worry. He pressed his lips together, rubbing them together for a split second, his lipgloss spreading evenly, tracing the rim of his glass with his black and white painted fingernail while his eyes followed his friend’s mouth with every word they spoke.
Bill was in his own world. He didn’t notice the woman at the back of the club sitting in a booth, watching him. Her eyes were fixated on him, sharp, unmoving. Her. The girl he had started hooking up with often. He was always a hopeless romantic but he believed someone like her would just want casual sex, so that’s all he took it as. He did not know however, how fucking insane she was.
She watched from across the room, her sitting with her legs spread, a matching black hoodie and black sweatpants on, smoking a cigarette, her hood pulled up, giving her a slight cover. She blew smoke out, keeping a watch on Bill. She didn’t like him being here with just his friends. She didn’t like him being anywhere without her. She knew they weren’t official or anything that she wanted to be. Yet. He was hers in every way that mattered, even if he didn’t know it yet.
A man from the bar approached Bill with his group of friends, offering Bill a pale blue drink that had a dash of glitter in it, holding it out expectantly. He was one of those men who aren’t used to anyone telling them no, men who were used to getting anything and everything they wanted without question. Bill forced a smile, though strained, taking the glass and setting it to the side. He looked away from the man, his polite facade had been pushed, and he was no longer willing to continue playing the apart of the nice boy who accepts drinks from men he doesn’t know.
The man didn’t move. He stayed standing, eyes on Bill, a hunger in them that sent chills all through the friends of Bill’s who watched the interaction with wide, confused looks. Bill shifted uncomfortable, avoiding the man’s stare. The man cleared his throat, speaking up, his voice was rough, pushing, “Hey, you. Look at me. When someone buys you a drink, don’t you think you should thank them? A pretty thing like you needs to learn his place, huh?”
The man went to trail his fingers across Bill’s arm, to make another comment that pushed all sense of boundaries, but before he could even raise a hand, she was there, pushing the man back with strong hands and a look that could freeze hell over, time and time again. She stood there, her hood on her head, her hands clenching and unclenching, she spat at the man, “Buy me a drink, bitch. The fuck you want with him? He doesn’t want you or your attention.”
Bill’s eyes snapped over, his mouth dropping. His mind was racing, a new thought popping into his head every single half second. When the fuck did she get here? How the fuck did she get here? Why is she not bending me over and fucking me on this table? Her hands, fuck, her hands. Is she going to fight him? He had never seen anyone act this way over him, his breathing was shallow. He couldn’t speak, he couldn’t form a coherent thought. He watched, noting the way she circled the man like he was her prey, unafraid, her stance unbreakable.
The man was cocky, laughing, attempting to grab her, grabbing her by her hoodie, spraying spit as he talked, “What are you doing, you stupid little bitch? Get out of my face, my cock has room to fuck you next. Let me fuck him first, then you can have your fill as soon as I handle that ass of his.” He was vulgar and his breath stunk of beer and cheap cigarettes, Bill did not even pay attention to the disgusting words he spoke, he did however, pay attention to the way she grabbed the drink he had bought Bill, and smashed it over the man’s head, the man stumbling backwards, blood smearing down the sides of his forehead. The man managed to land a punch, busting her mouth, her lip splitting open. Blood spread down her lips and chin, her hand tilted to the side. Instead of outwardly reacting in fear or outrage, she looked at him, sighing, blood covering her teeth and lips, she smiled, a predator sizing up an inconvenience she could easily get rid of.
For a moment, there was only silence. Bill clearly began to see that, okay- this isn’t casual. This woman obviously likes him enough to the point to where she busted a fucking glass over the head of a man who was being suggestive and overly flirty towards him. Bill stayed silent for only a moment, unable to form words, before he pushed himself up on unsteady legs, gripping her hand, tugging her away, his movements hurried. “Schatz, come on. Come on. The polizei will be here. Please, he’s not worth it.” He was shaking, but he wasn’t leaving her.
She looked away from the man and focused on Bill, her entire posture relaxing, the fight draining from her eyes, her softening, interlacing her fingers with Bill’s, pulling him to her arms. She peppered kisses across his face, her blood smearing across his cheeks, chin, and lips, before she got her keys out, shrugging. “I’m not worried about the fucking police, baby. C’mon. You can come home with me.” She guided him out with a steady hand, Bill leaning heavily on her. Despite the fact she just assaulted a man and caused an altercation in a club he really loved going to where his friends watched them leave with parted mouths and stares full of shock and disbelief, he walked with her without hesitation, his entire body leaning into her without fear or discomfort, content to exist with her, to go wherever she asked.
The drive back to her place was practically silent, Bill gripping her hand tightly as she drove easily, her demeanor calm, as if she did not just fight a man over looking at him, for flirting with him. Bill angled his body towards hers, resting his forehead on her shoulder as she drove, breathing her in. She was fucking crazy, but she was his, and there was no line she wasn’t willing to cross when it came to him. And that in itself should’ve sent him running, back to the safety of his friends and to normal relationships. But, he only scooted closer to her, melting into her touch, her putting an arm around him as she turned onto the street leading to her place, her hand rubbing soothing circles on his skin. She was different than anything he had experienced before, unlike any person he had started a relationship with: But he knew one thing. She’d burn the world for him.
Bremer Straße, Hamburg, Germany.
Her apartment complex. 12:58 AM.
Saturday, December 19th, 2009.
She helped him inside of her apartment, setting him down on her bed, her grabbing wipes, cleaning off his makeup and her blood she had managed to get on his soft skin. Her hands were unlike the ones she used moments ago on the man who pushed his luck with Bill and met his fate with a woman who’d kill over him without a second glance. She took off her hoodie, leaving her in her black tank top and black sweatpants, focusing on Bill and only Bill, cleaning him up.
Bill pushed her hand away, holding her hand in between his, whispering but firm, “You’re the one bleeding. Let me clean you up.” His tone gave no chance for argument, her sitting down as he stood, wetting a warm cloth in the sink, him kneeling before her, looking up at her with those doe eyes she’d spend the rest of her life protecting and saving, destroying and ruining, wrecking and rebuilding. She let him use his gentle hands on her, but the moment he was done, she pulled him to her lap, him wrapping his legs around her waist, her holding him close.
“Why’d you do it?” He was hesitant to ask, but he spoke genuinely, curiously. She looked at him, processing his question, before she kissed him deeply, murmuring against his mouth, “You think there’s a single person in this world I’d let touch you? Take advantage of you? Try and hurt you?” She let her questions simmer for a moment, before she answered for him. “I would fucking kill anyone who tried to do any of that to you, baby. You’re mine. Mine to touch. Mine to love. Mine to do whatever I want with. I own you.”
Bill’s breathing hitched, him shifting in her lap. Her words were bordering on madness, but the heat that washed over him and the way he began to harden against her, his forehead dropping against hers, was every single answer she needed. She might be a batshit fucking maniac, but he didn’t care. He wanted her, even with all the crazy and the way she might’ve been dangerous. He didn’t care. She was right with one thing. She did own him. And he’d never let another own him, never - not in the way she does whatsoever.
She felt the way his body reacted to her words, she flashed a smile, murmuring, “Needy baby. You wanna ride my strap, huh? You’ve not been here in a few days.” He let out the softest whine at her words, nodding frantically against her skin. She removed each layer of his clothes with a touch that was entirely reverent, despite the fact she was about to fuck him until he spilled cum across her and her floors, despite the fact he was about to ride her without restraint, with the way she had been ready for him to all night.
She let him sit on the bed bare as she got up, removing the necessary layers, buckling on her strap on and harness, before she walked and sat in front of the mirror beside her bed in a black metal chair, patting her lap. She wanted him to watch himself come undone for her, by her touch and the way she fucked him alone. He sat on the bed, swallowing hard, before he walked over to her, his hands trembling slightly with anticipation.
She reached for the cherry lube, ready to prepare it for him, but before she could, he kneeled between her legs, taking the strap into his mouth, bobbing his head up and down. She could hear him gagging, wet sounds leaving his mouth, and his whole body was shaking. She tangled her hand in his hair, bobbing his head faster. “God, look at you. You’re so good for me. Taking it so well. Preparing it for yourself like a good boy.” She praised him as he took the strap deeper, tears rolling down his face, he looked up at her, and she groaned just from looking at the submission in his brown eyes, her pulling him up to her lap quickly, kissing him hard, her hands tangling in his hair.
Bill straddled her lap, kissing her and touching all over her, his breathing uneven and his touch desperate. She turned him to face the mirror, pressing his back against her chest, his whole body red and she watched as he met his own stare in the reflection of the mirror that showed the way she was about to consume him entirely, and how he was about to let her ruin him for anyone else.
She worked him open with her fingers, him bucking against her hand, his head falling forward, her keeping him up with her other hand aa she prepared him. The moment he was ready, she lowered him onto her strap on slowly, stretching him out, he cried out, relishing in the way she split him opened and covered him in pleasure and pain. She tilted his head up to the mirror, her voice a command, “Watch.”
She bottomed out inside of him, him panting, his body already glistening with sweat. He met her eyes in the mirror, her fingers splayed across his stomach, her other hand on his thigh, she started moving- slow and steady at first. “Take it, baby. Come on. Let me hear you. I know you’ve been needing this. I know you’ve been missing it. I know what a little slut you are for me, doll. Let me hear you.” Her voice was silk and roughened by desire that she held only for him, her bucking up faster as she watched pure overwhelming sensation course through his veins, the way his head fell back against her shoulder.
He was moaning her name, her name a prayer on his lips, begging her to fuck him harder, to treat him like the pathetic whore he is for her. He gripped her thighs, riding her harder, “Mommy, please. Faster. Please. I’m yours, only yours.” His voice was wet and he was whiny, his lower lip trembling as he moved down on her harder, pleading for her to drive up into him as fast as she could, to push him over the edge and send his cum spraying across this mirror she loved to watch him lose himself in.
She drove up into him faster, pinching and circling his nipples with calloused fingers, giving into every single plea and ask he begged from her, her always giving into him, always giving him everything he needs. Her thrusts grew harder, faster, him screaming her name now, his movements less coordinated, no longer matching hers. He was close, reedy high whines spewing from his mouth, him digging his nails into her thighs, crying out her name, his voice raw.
She bit his shoulder, marking him, giving him the final inch he needed to shoot cum across her mirror, his release hot and white, stripes against the frame and the glass, his body going limp against hers, her holding him against her, helping him ride out the waves that flowed throughout his body.
When he finally caught his breath, he met her eyes once more in the mirror, him giving a shy smile, but he was beyond happy, feeling seen, loved, craved, touched in a way that no one else ever had touched him before. He turned to face her, wrapping his arms around her neck, staying connected to her, loving the way she was buried inside of him with her strap. He kissed her lightly, his breath warm against her lips.
“Not casual. Definitely not casual.” She let out a surprised laugh, but her grip around him grew tighter, her holding him against her body, kissing his neck and his shoulder, sighing against him. He reveled in her touch, relaxing completely, knowing as long as he was in her arms, he was safe- nothing and no one could reach him when she was there, and there was no where else he’d rather be.
