When someone puts MDNI on a post about a minor

seen from Greece
seen from China
seen from China
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Türkiye

seen from Poland

seen from Türkiye
seen from Poland
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Australia
seen from United States

seen from Singapore
seen from United States
seen from Germany

seen from United States

seen from Libya
seen from Türkiye
seen from China
When someone puts MDNI on a post about a minor
how it feels trying to find a fanfic/imagine about a fandom that’s dead and dry
me laying down in bed ready to read some ”x reader” fics
★┊[ Lights, camera, action
aka… a simple television interview sparking an old flame
warnings ~ actress!reader, reader is implied to be european, set in 2010 era, film reader is in is made up, made the interviewer act like Jimmy Fallon except British and gave him a random name since I couldn't really find an actual interviewer that had the vibes I was going for </3
w/c ~ 1400+
── .✦ a/n ~ first tom fic!! this will become an official AU, so be aware ;)
The bright lights of the studio blur your vision, the loud cheers of the audience causing a loud ringing to appear in your ears.
You don’t think you’ll ever be used to it. Fame.
“You know her, you love her, you wanna be her…”
You feel your heart pounding wildly in your chest.
“Everybody welcome the star of Europe’s new favorite film, the lady you’ve been waiting for–” He yells out your name with a grin as you walk out onto the stage.
You smile sheepishly as you take your seat before Mr. Smith, waving to the crowd as you do.
“Nice to meet you, how are you this evening?” He begins kindly. “Nice to meet you too, and I’m doing just fine, thank you.”
You haven’t ever truly been interviewed. Sure, maybe interrogated by a fan, but not a genuine, live interview in front of an audience.
“Now, we all know you’re the star of the film Scars on My Heart…” For the first little while, all the questions are related to the movie – what filming was like, your costars, etc. Then, they’re focused on your personal life. Favorite music, where you’re from, favorite foods – like highschool icebreakers.
However, one question catches you off guard.
“So, we actually have some images from your high school years we have some inquiries about…”
Your heart early stops
Is he gonna call you a nerd? Make fun of you? You’ve seen the things some interviewers have revealed to the world.
But the real thing might as well be an even bigger shock.
Mr. Smith brings out a photo, one that you vividly remember being taken.
You, six years ago at the age of fifteen, posing for a photo in your algebra class…
… next to rockstar Tom Kaulitz, with his arm around your shoulders.
“Mind explaining this?” He says with a smirk.
You can’t help the laugh of surprise that leaves you.
“Oh–! Uhm, yeah, we did actually go to school together, me and Tom. And Bill and Georg and Gustav.”
“Were you friends in any way? What– what’s the story behind this?”
You laugh nervously once again.
“So, uh, we were sort-of friends. Not necessarily all that close, but I still knew him well enough.” Your eyes fall to your feet. “He was actually really sweet – they all were, the band – and I thought it was cool seeing them slowly gain more fame.”
You’re sort of leaving out some key details, how they had to drop-out due to their fame and bullying. The things you heard people say about Bill. About Tom.
“Really? Did you ever see them when they were small, before the superfans and all that?” Mr. Smith questions.
“I actually was hoping to see them perform at a more intimate venue at some point, but then they got too famous and…” You take a breath. “Y’know, we just… grew apart.”
The crowd gives a united ‘aww.’
“That’s too bad. Now, we all might as well be wondering this, but was your relationship ever more than friendly?” An echo of ‘ooo’s’ verberates throughout the room.
The question catches you off guard.
“O–Oh! No, uh, no… not at all, actually. Well, I thought he was cute, but a lot of girls did. A lot of girls do. Not much else to it.” You’re lying straight through your teeth.
You had the fattest crush on him. From the eighth grade up until Senior year, you had a crush on him.
You longed for something to become of it, but that never happened.
“Oh, really? Okay, so…”
The rest of the interview goes as expected. A couple more questions about Tom and Tokio Hotel, more questions on other random topics, what a typical interview is like.
But by the end of it, your heart is racing with a newfound realization.
You never stopped liking him.
That stupid crush still weighs heavy in your chest.
God, what are you gonna do?
Across Europe, in Berlin, Tom Kaulitz sits in his bedroom, browsing mindlessly on his computer, when an article appears on his screen with an awfully eye-catching title.
“Rising European movie star reveals some enticing secrets about famed German guitarist Tom Kaulitz, their high school relations, and much more in an interview!”
What the hell…?
He scoffs, before immediately clicking on the link to the interview.
The moment he sees your face, his heart stops.
It's you. And even after six years, he can tell. You radiate the same beauty as you did way back then.
Ten minutes later, after watching the interview, he’s left with a pounding heart and resurfaced emotions.
“Bill! Come here, right now!!” He calls out to his twin.
“What?! I’m taking off my makeup, give me a–”
“No, this is urgent! It’ll be worth it, I swear!”
Tom hears Bill groan comically, then watches as he angrily leaves the bathroom and approaches.
“What?”
“Look at this!”
Bill sits down at Tom’s side, peering over his twin's shoulder at his computer screen.
Almost instantly, recognition appears on his face.
“Oh my god! No way, she’s an actress now?!” He exclaims
“I know! C’mere, lets look at what she said about us!”
Tom skips the video to where she talks about him and Bill, playing with his lip ring subconsciously.
“Just watch!”
The two boys watch attentively as you speak of what your high school life was like.
“So, everyone knows Tom Kaulitz is a total ladies man–"
“Yes, I’m aware,” You laugh softly.
“But, like, was he always? It’s just funny to think about–”
The two of you laugh together.
“Well, uh… He was actually always really kind. Sure, handsome and sassy and – albeit – disruptive, but more often than not he was really quiet. Y’know, the sort of brooding, mysterious guy that a select group of girls was obsessed with.” You go on to explain.
Bill glances at Tom.
“Damn, she’s got some balls–”
“Shhh! I’m tryna listen!!” Tom can’t help getting giddy at the sight of you speaking so positively about him.
“Really? Y’know, I always took him as the troublemaker with less than stellar grades.” Mr. Smith states with a shrug.
“What? No! I-I mean, he might not have been the best student 100% of the time, but who is? He got good grades, at least. He was actually a pretty good guy. I can see why so many girls hang posters of him on their walls.”
This makes Tom’s heart skip a beat. Several, actually.
Him and Bill spend the rest of their night reminiscing about you. The way you treated them, how gentle you were, your general kindness. All of it.
And by the end of the night, he realizes one thing:
He still likes you.
Even after all this time, that stupid, god forsaken crush sticks to him like a moth to a flame.
That same week, Tom and the other members of Tokio Hotel are sitting in a studio, being interviewed for their new up-coming album.
About ten minutes in, a question is asked that catches Tom off guard.
“Tom, we recently got word that you had relations with a certain actress we all know and love…” The interviewer, a stubby man with gray hair and a gruff voice, inquires.
Tom simply laughs.
“Yeah, I, uh, I saw that interview. She was really sweet.” He explains.
“Well, go on and tell us more! What was she like, per say?”
For a moment, Tom quietly debates how he should describe you: in the way you truly were, or in a stupidly flirtatious manner like his agents would want him to?
He decides both.
“Oh, she was a total catch! Man, I don’t think I’ve met a woman more beautiful than her.” He begins, smirking at the interviewer as he plays with his lip ring.
“On top of that, she was so sweet too. She was smart, nice to everyone, and… yeah, just an all around amazing girl.” He grins.
“Oh, really now?” The older man chuckles.
“Yes, really! Bill and Georg and Gustav would agree with me!” The three others nod and giggle to themselves
With that stupid smirk on his face, he turns to the camera.
“If you’re watching this, liebste, gimme a call!” He winks at the camera as laughter erupts in the room.
He had only said that because he didn’t think you’d be watching.
Little does he know, you were.
You stare at your computer screen, cheeks flushed with surprise. He remembers you? After all this time, all this fame, he remembers you?
With shaky hands, you open your email, typing in his email with bated breath.
“You free for coffee this weekend?”
(1/9/26 edit: I USED THE WRONG TOO WITHIN THE FIRST LIKE FIVE SENTENCES. SOME1 KILL ME.)
[ 🏷️ : none currently! send a dm or ask to be added <3 ]
I was thinking abt this for a week but what if 2010 tom pounding into reader nonstop like HIM WITH that tight sweater if you know what I mean🤤
if your comfortable!!
SPECIAL ATTIRE - TOM KAULITZ
girlfriend!reader x boyfriend!tom kaulitz
word count: 907
contents: 18+, fluff
Please please please clingy tom headcannons🙏🙏
𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ at first he was cold, nonchalant, careless, but as the months passed and the relationship grew serious. his hidden clinginess bursted out unexpectedly, the gifts only got more lucrative, the cliche gestures became more frequent, the love sounding profoundly louder.
𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ in the beginning of your relationship, he was very cautious of bringing you to any press events because of how crazy the fans can be but, now he makes sure your at every single one. he makes sure to always walk the carpet with your hand in his, his eyes only on you.
𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ unlike his brother, he isn’t shy about talking about his lover. during interviews he always manages to bring you up, the interviewer could be asking an upcoming tour and he just starts talking about how much he can’t wait to be home with you.
𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ tom keeps a folded up picture of you with him at all times, he calls it his “good luck charm” and a way to keep you by his side even when your not near.
𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ he’s very touchy, hands on you at all times. whether it’s his hand resting on your waist, a hand on your thigh, fingers playing with the hems of your clothes. he loves touching and feeling every part of you.
𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ during tour he’s literally miserable, he’ll never admit it but he once cried from how much he missed you. he thinks of you constantly, calls you before and after a show, and sends you flowers atleast twice a day.
𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ when you two are together after not seeing each other for a while, you are not leaving his sight not even for a single second. he’s all over you like a needy puppy, begging for every ounce of your attention.
𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ tom quite literally craves you. if he’s gone an hour without feeling your body on his, or being within your beautiful presence, he’s like a drug addict feining for his next fix of you.
𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ during paparazzi moments, he always kisses you, turns to smile at you, or kisses your cheeks.
𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ he never addresses you by your name, it’s always “baby”, “schatz”, “prinzessin”, or whatever he’s feeling. you’ve grown accustomed to only responding to his sweet names.
𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ you are his safe place, tom tells you everything and anything, most things he wouldn’t tell a soul. he usually struggles opening up but with you it came easily.
(requests are open, send away and ill make sure to get them out to you shortly!)
In season
✏️ theme : smut; (tom kaulitz 2010/11 × reader ) ✏️ includes : hybrid wolf tom × hybrid bunny reader, heavy reference on animal mating, masturbation, pillow humping, knotting during sex.
a/n: hellooo oh my god it's WAYY past october and goodness I am so fucking sorry everyone, but I've had big exams and it's like, currently the biggest one of my life. I haven't been motivated either and I just rather watch tom edits than write SOO 😬 but anyway this was a sexy request i got if you scroll...but it's done and JESUSS idek what im writing!! slightly taboo fiction, scroll if uncomfortable!
Heat was inevitable. And when it did hit, it was the most dreadful experience—however, that didn't prevent it from being the most satisfying thing, especially when the right person was there to help finally ease the ache.
Tom knew his season was coming. The all too familiar signs were emerging slowly but surely, and he knew he had a secured girl to deal with it, but the only problem was simply the wait. He was a wolf hybrid—soft brown ears atop his head and a long fluffy tail of brownish hues. He almost went insane during his heat sometimes, but he overcame it, usually.
Especially now when he had you, a cute bunny girl with snow white ears and an adorable furball for a tail. It most excited him when your heat hit—it only made you extremely desirable, knowing you were fertile and undoubtedly in need of his service. It was almost too good to see you rolling around distressed when you needed nothing more than his cock to sate that irritating hunger that gnawed at your very being during that time.
It was exquisite.
And so when he woke up one morning hyper-aware with his senses tickling at every familiar smell and movement that made him feel overstimulated—he knew it was here. There was an ache in his groin, a quickness in his breath. It hadn’t gone full on, but the effects were there. You had gotten out of bed previously, and that left the spot next to him empty.
With a whine, he dragged himself out of bed and washed up before stepping downstairs to look for you.
Happy and unaware, you had prepped breakfast for yourself. “Morning, Tommy,” you greeted, and he grunted as a response.
He grabbed himself some water before going to join you on the couch, where you happily ate your usual meal that had you starting your day.
“Why’re you so sad?” you asked, taking in the look of his slightly flushed face and rather reserved demeanour. But you were too silly, had a weak nose that hardly detected the heat of another being—not in the way his nose did, where he could've smelt your heat from a mile away.
“Nothing,” Tom murmured. “Just tired.”
“Well don't be sad,” you attempted, reaching over to scratch him around his ears, feeling for the fluff there. “You know, you can always take another nap.”
And God did he feel it, reacted to it instantly that he almost felt his eyes roll into the back of his head. He tilted his head, providing you better access to his ears as you scratched behind them. A low, rumbling growl escaped his throat, a sound of pure pleasure and contentment while his tail thumped eagerly against the couch. A clear sign of his growing excitement and arousal.
To you, well, you knew he had soft spots that he loved to be touched in generally. So, realistically you didn't think to stop—only until he pulled away, a desperate whimper that he had tried to conceal escaping his throat.
“Is something wrong?” you pouted. “Maybe you do need that nap.”
“Maybe,” he managed, clearing his throat.
Feeling slightly awkward, you finish up anyway and proceed to the kitchen counter. His eyes, ever so alert at this moment, watched you sharply; your every move, every twitch. And when you leaned over the counter to wipe the marble top, his ears twitched and perked up with interest, his eyes fixated to the way your tail moved ever so slightly as you cleaned.
His tail wagged, his pants tented. It was hitting him hard, the way he could feel himself trying to detect whether your season was close on instinct, desperate to get you in bed with him. His hand subconsciously moved down to the growing buldge giving himself a rub like some perverted idiot. His eyes rolled in, his breath caught in his throat. He was watching, unbeknownst to you. But as any obedient dog would—he had to wait.
Discreetly he got up and left, and rushed to the bedroom to simulate his so-called nap that you had suggested. He closed the door, and crawled onto the comfort of the bed, instead reaching down to palm himself through his sweatpants. He felt himself sweating, his body turning warm as he desperately wanted to relieve himself, even just for a little while. He reached into his pants, finding himself already slick with the precum that beaded at the tip.
With a clenched jaw, he stroked himself eagerly, staring slow but gradually picking up the pace. He pictured you bent over that perfect little countertop, the way your tiny bunny tail twitched as you moved, the way your ears were a perfect little handful to grab when he took you from behind.
His face was flushed, and soon enough he ached for the real thing even more, needing to simulate the act. Desperately, he got up and he grabbed his pillow to place before him, fishing out his sore cock to rub against the fabric. He rubbed gently, picturing the lump of stuffing to be you—your perfect little body for him to hold and rut into. He then began to dry-hump it, his tail wagging excitedly with his arousal as he thrust himself against the pillow pathetically, his ears lowering with the force of his pleasure.
He whined, mouth slightly agape as he relished in the small act humping his pillow, enough to suffice his needs of the real thing, at least, until you wanted it. He pictured knotting you, tying you to him as you begged, the way he'd keep you full and satiated for the next few months, possibly enough to provide him a litter with your fertile body.
And then he came.
Tom spent hours doing it, jerking off to the thought of mating, finally getting his fix of the season. And shit, you didn't even know. It was painful, very painful. He was in distress, whining and groaning as his body craved your presence. He knew that if he neared you, he'd jump on you. And he didn't want that.
So when late evening hit and he had showered to wash some of his distress away, his nose inevitably caught a whiff of a smell that could never go unnoticed. And with how he felt right now, he knew he wasn't wrong.
Clueless, you crawled into bed that night next to him, unaware of the whole masturbation session that had happened previously. His pupils practically dilated at the smell, leaning in to kiss you on the neck in an attempt to get another reassuring sniff. And still, obediently, he knew he would wait. Of course, you were simply dumbfounded.
It wasn't a surprise to you when you realised the next morning you felt yourself get weak in the legs and warm to the skin. You woke up flushed, ears flopping at the familiar feeling—the feeling of your heat. Although it hadn't hit you fully, you knew what was to come throughout the day was inevitable. Tom was simply waiting for when it hit the strongest.
He noticed your jerky movements. The way you twitched and perked up at the sound of his voice, the testosterone of his male being. By day two, Tom was already furious with his body. But he relished in the sight with you, his cock erected and his mind buzzing.
The day was dreadful. But somewhere in the late afternoon, you restlessly went to lay in bed, hips slightly lifted, your panties soaked with arousal. A part of you dreaded this deeply. But Tom, oh, he could smell it. It made him crazy, the smell of a female in heat. And as you rolled around in distress, he finally came into the room, his senses alert at the sight that almost made his mouth water.
There were no exact words—just the act playing out. He crawled over your fertile body, caging you beneath him. You whine in distress as you lay there on your stomach, aware of his body above yours. His face hid into the crook of your neck, giving you a nice smell, one that made him groan against your skin with delight.
“Tom,” you practically moaned, your hips pushing up against his own hips on instinct, imitating the act of mating.
“I know,” he murmured, eagerly shoving your nightie up and out of the way, fingers hooking onto your panties to pull them down, the mere look of your clear arousal sending him over the edge. He was leaking in his pants, he knew, and fuck, he knew he couldn't go further without what he needed.
Tom’s hands worked at his pants as he stared at the welcome cavern between your legs, pinkish and swollen as it ached for something to fill it. It was a familiar sight of a female in need, in clear sign of her heat. His tail wagged excitedly, instantly thinking with his dick as he mounted over you, grasping for your hips and you waited on your fours.
Shoving his cock deep, he began to thrust, a choked moan escaping his lips. You were stuck, your cunt clamping around his dick with need. He leaned down, panting heavily as his eyes fluttered close, his hips pistoning erratically into the warmth of your pussy, something he had been craving more than anything.
“Nghm—Tom!” you squealed, hands grasping for the bedsheets beneath. Tom only sought to reach that one spot, something that completely fixed everything. He could feel his cock swelling, hissing at the sting of how quick he was going. But he was close and he knew it.
It wasn't hard for you to come—in this state, nothing felt better than his cock stretching you out and fixing that irritating ache. You didn't even realise when you climaxed, how you practically squirted, too focused on the pleasure and the way your body stiffened and jerked. You had thought you pissed yourself, feeling liquid spill down your inner thighs.
His nails dug into the skin of your hips, a low moan escaping his as he neared his orgasm, feeling every need to fill you with his warmth. And you knew with a certainty that you could feel it, the way his cock swelled before it would ultimately lock him to you.
“Mm—shit, I'm gonna come,” he whined quietly, his expression pinched as he focused on his upcoming orgasm.
And then it did. It stung, made you want to pull away, but he held you firmly in place as he came, his cock knotting you perfectly as he filled you with his cum. He let out a soft gasp, his body going slightly limp against your own, but nonetheless, he knew he was secured, and now, for the next few hours, he had the upper hand.
Slowly, he lets you rest. You lay down with him, his cock nestled nicely inside you. He panted gently against your skin, his tail thumping against the bed as his body overcame his climax.
“Fuck, Tom,” you whimpered, feeling slightly uncomfortable. But it wasn't unfamiliar for sure, the way every movement triggered the feel of him locked to you. And for hours you were like that, in bed with his cock plunged deep into you as you drifted off, simply waiting for when he truly was done.
Guilty Pleasure-
Tom jerking off at the thought of his girlfriend-
Summary: you just left tom’s house and he can’t stop thinking about you, a good hit below the belt…
Contains: female reader x tom kaulitz, masturbation, mention of penetration, groping, nickname, head.
INSPIRED BY: Guilty Pleasure- Chappell Roan
———
You’ve just left Tom’s place, but your scent still lingers on the sheets where you sat for an hour.
You had just stopped by after class to hang out for a bit, like you usually do.
But this time, Tom couldn't help thinking about it.
So there he is, lying in bed, breathing in your scent, his gaze fixed on the ceiling.
He tried to hold back, but he couldn’t; he pictured you, the way you had kissed him before leaving, your hands brushing against his, your soft laugh, as his heart raced.
He couldn’t just ask for sex, it would’ve been awkward.
And now you are gone, leaving him with the memory of you.
He tried to think of something else—anything, just anything. But his mind kept returning to you.
He couldn't help but notice how hard he was.
"Shit..." he murmured, looking at the bulge beneath his jeans.
He blushes at his wildest thoughts, which make him melt.
He keeps berating himself for letting his imagination run wild, yet it is indeed he who is picturing you.
First, he remembers the way your fingers brushed against each other a few minutes ago, then the taste of you. He imagines trailing kisses down your neck.
Taking your shirt off, seeing you in bra, is it a lacy black? Or a pink with bows? or maybe none ?
He wasn’t an expert, he pictured him taking it off whatever color it was, to suck on your nipples- no, no no no.
He tossed his hands over his red face, groaning. Why does he have to be so perverted. You wouldn’t like that, he thought… or maybe you would.
He so hard it hurts.
“She’s not really going to make me-..” he thought about it, he thinks about it so much it’s the only thing in his mind.
He sigh, letting the pressure on his chest go. His hand found his bulge, caressing it through his jeans.
He thought back to what you said. And how much it sounded dirtier when he think about it, or maybe it’s just the moment, or maybe its him and his deranged mind.
He opened his jeans.
You, arching on his lap as he lick your tits, groping them with both hands, anything. He bet they’re soft.
His jeans slide down to his knee.
Him taking off your panties with his teeth. Before opening your legs wide.
He slide a hand in his boxer.
“Fuck..” he whispered closing his eyes so hard he could literally see you.
He would lick it, taste it, suck it, bite it.
He start stroking slowly.
“Mmh-..” he pictured you doing it, taking his length into your soft hand, the one that touched his cheek minutes ago.
His breathing grew shorter.
He is finally stroking himself properly, his dick springing free.
He's already imagining himself taking you forcefully. How he thought you would ask: roughly, yet gently at the same time.
He throws his head back with a soft moan, his hand moving faster.
What if it was your mouth? Too much for him... Damn, he wants you so badly.
How would you moan his name, would you call him “good boy” or “daddy”?
He doesn’t care, he just wants you enjoying him.
He is on the verge, and his mind keeps racing.
He is leaking pre-cum that helps him going faster.
“Oh shit~” he said weakly. What if you were here for real?
He fantasized what you would do.
He even thought about how you touch yourself.
Too much. Too much.
He caught himself whimpering your name as he cum. He looks at his stained hand and sheets.
“Fucking hell” he said breathless taking a wipe.
He lay there, he felt insane.
His phones buzz, it’s you.
— I’m home baby!
— you give me guilty pleasure
— ???