
DD—30—She/Her. Here for all the fanfic. It’s not a problem, it’s a passionate hobby 😅 Occasional writer? It’s a work in progress in itself✨Masterlist✨
712 posts
Update About My Plagiarized Fic/ayadrafts (original Post Here)
Update about my plagiarized fic/ayadrafts (original post here)
Tw-fatphobia, violent threats
First, I wanna say thank you to everyone who is showing up and sticking up for me. Eddie stans, Joel stans, writers and readers both. I love and appreciate you so much. I know a good amount of you have reported ayadrafts and that’s awesome. If anyone in the comments is able to let others know how to do the same, that would be greatly appreciated.
To be honest, I’m not entirely sure how to update this so I think we’ll just go through the timeline.
Explanation below.
Last time I talked about this yesterday where I wasn’t responding to an ask, I showed screenshots of ayadrafts’ messages with others, how she laughed at both them and me. I posted and reblogged with screenshots of countless deleted comments. That was in late afternoon. During that time, people repeatedly commented on Ayadrafts’ post calling out her blatant theft of my work and even alerted blogs that had reblogged/liked her post that it was stolen from me. Ayadrafts has admitted to stealing my fic, but simply does not care or feel bad.
What I did not see and what I do not have screenshots of is Ayadrafts telling individuals to k*ll themselves. It seems that she gets a comment, replies to it, and then deletes both within seconds. Multiple people, both friends and strangers have let me know that this was taking place.
As if she could not get any lower. Laughing in my face, mocking my work, and then telling people to k*ll themselves? Absolutely abhorrent and frankly, fucking cruel.
But apparently others who were defending me were cruel right back to her. From what I’ve heard, I believe people who were commenting remained fairly civil, even if ayadrafts herself did not like the comments. I’ve received asks about this and I’m disappointed to hear that people were in her asks calling her a fat cunt and other abhorrent things. That’s a low blow and does not reflect me or my values.
Believe me, I understand the anger. I’ve never met someone so antisocial and uncaring. I am angry too. Fucking livid. But that doesn’t give me or anyone else the right to say something just as heinously cruel back to her. I don’t condone anyone being sexist, fatphobic, homophobic, racist, or hateful on my behalf. None of these things will ever be tolerated by me, even if they’re being used to “defend” me. Not okay with that in the slightest.
Take the high road, don’t give this person any more ammo to be any more cruel and atrocious than she’s already being.
After this, ayadrafts disabled replies on her post of my stolen fic for the night and everything quieted down for the most part. Today, I see that she’s got those replies back on and is likely looking for another fight, blocking and unblocking people. Because, like I said yesterday, it is evident that she has a clear need for negative attention, and all of this is a game to her.
If you wanna participate in that game, you’ve got my consent. Spam the shit out of her, annoy her through posts like this and this. I don’t care, because frankly I am past the point of sympathy with her, and I think I’ve been way too forgiving up to this point. Maybe she’ll cave and delete my fic like I’ve repeatedly asked her to do. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
But it’s entirely possible she won’t, and that she’ll double down even harder, and that by continuing to fuel the fire she’ll only debase herself further and in doing so make us all feel worse. Were you all drained watching this go down yesterday? Because I sure as shit was.
So at some point I might ask you all that we just drop it, for both the sake of my mental health and your own. I think we’re all unbelievably hurt and upset, but we need to be able to walk away at some point. The reality is, we can keep this going forever but hateful, spiteful people like this don’t often thrive long without something to feed on.
I’ve reported her post multiple times, tweeted at tumblr, and I’ve heard nothing but crickets. It is what it is.
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More Posts from Bitchesuntitled
Oh most DEFINITELY Marcus coded! I’m glad you liked it 😍

Paper Rings
Pairing: Marcus Pike x f!reader
Warnings: MDNI blog in general is 18+ go on now, get. Fluff, innuendos, panicked Marcus, cussing, think that's it?
Summary: Marcus wants to ask you an important question.
Mood board made by the amazing @jay-zzle, divider made by @saradika-graphics
Prompt by: @swiftispunk, let me know what ya think!
thank you @notjustjavierpena for taking a look at this and helping me with it! ❤️
Masterlist

Tonight’s the night, Marcus thinks on his drive home. He’s going to ask her to marry him. After their first date, he knew deep down she was the one. Three years later and the feeling hasn’t changed. He’s asked her dad’s permission, the ring has been sitting in his dresser for months now, the reservations have been made at Mastro’s Steakhouse. He clicks the remote for the garage as he pulls into the driveway, taking a deep breath in and out before getting out of the car and going into the house.
You hear the door open downstairs; Marcus must be home. Just in time too; he had told you earlier this morning about making reservations somewhere and to dress pretty like you always do. Working on the finishing touches of your makeup, you see his reflection in the bathroom mirror smiling at you, leaning against the doorway.
“Hey babe,” you greet him with a warm smile, “I am almost done. Is there anything you need to do to get ready?”
“Not much,” Marcus responds, walking away from the doorway to the dresser, glancing over his shoulder to make sure you’re still in the bathroom, and slowly opening the drawer he knows the ring is in, “Need to use the bathroom before we go and might change my suit jacket.” His hand creeps to the very back of the dresser, feeling for that velvet box he knows all too well is there. His fingers touch it, grasping it in his hand, quickly pulling it out, and shoving it into his jacket pocket just as you’re leaving the bathroom. He shuts the drawer quickly and turns to look at you.
“What are you doing?” You ask, giving him a suspicious look.
“Nothing,” he replies, raising his eyebrows, noticing the lone pair of socks on the floor that escaped the drawer as he was pulling the ring out, “Was going to change my socks. My feet feel gross.”
“Okay?” You giggle, shaking your head, getting your shoes on, “Weirdo.”
“Shush, you love me and wouldn’t have it any other way.” He grins at you, picking up the socks and going to sit on the bed.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” You grin, “Will you help me with the back of my dress?”
He helps zip your dress up, giving the back of your neck a light kiss, shucking off his suit jacket, and laying it on the bed on his way to the bathroom.
“I’ll meet you downstairs.”
__
“Where are we going?” You ask, looking over at Marcus, waiting for the red light to change.
“Now what’s the fun in telling you when it is supposed to be a surprise?” He says, squeezing your thigh, “Patience.”
You roll your eyes and scoff. The car starts moving again when the light turns green. Marcus is so meticulous in everything he does. Always has a plan, a certain way of doing things, likes to be spontaneous to an extent but usually always a set schedule. You love those things about him, he’s the comfort in the chaos that life can sometimes be. He pulls into one of the fanciest restaurants in Washington D.C.
“Oh my god, Marcus,” you whisper, “How on earth did you get a reservation?”
“I was able to make some calls,” he says, stepping out of the vehicle, making his way to your door. “Had some people who owed me some favors.” He explains, opening your door for you and offering his hand. You take his hand and let him lead you. Handing off his keys to the valet. Walking into the restaurant you are greeted by the hostess.
“Good evening, sir,” she says with a bright smile, “Name?”
“Should be under Pike.”
“Ah yes, right this way.” She says, marking in the book and grabbing a couple menus before leading the way.
You cannot believe your eyes looking around at this place. There is a bar, a live jazz band playing, and plenty of couples sitting at the other tables.
“Is this table okay, Mr. Pike?” The hostess asks when she stops at an empty table.
“It’s perfect, thank you.” Marcus smiles, stepping over to the chair closest to you and sliding it out for you.
“Your waiter will be right with you.” She says, giving a small nod setting the menus down on the table.
You sit in the chair, grabbing the menu, watching Marcus move to the other side of the table to sit down across from you.
“So, Mr. Pike,” you smirk, “What on earth is the special occasion?”
“Just wanted to take you somewhere nice,” he replies, cocking an eyebrow, “Is that not allowed?”
“You’re up to something.”
“I am not,” Marcus grins, opening his menu, “What do you think you’ll have?”
“I’m thinking the salmon, although those crab cakes would be a good start, don’t you think?”
“Whatever you want, baby.”
“Good evening and welcome to Mastro’s Steakhouse, I’m Jared and I’ll be your waiter this evening.” A young man who approaches the table says, “Can I get you two something to drink?”
“I want whatever wine pairs the best with the New York strip, sweetheart?”
“You know, I’ll think I’ll do the same thing he’s doing, Mr. Wine Connoisseur over there,” you laugh, “Whatever pairs well with the salmon dish.”
“Alright, I will ask the chef what he thinks would be the best.”
“Oh!” You say as Jared starts to leave the table, “Crab cakes! We want the crab cakes as our appetizer.”
“Of course, ma’am.”
—
It’s now or never, Marcus thinks. The evening went exactly how he wanted it to, the meal was fantastic, the wine amazing, the dessert ordered to go will be arriving soon. This is the perfect moment to ask her.
“You know,” Marcus says, grabbing your hands, rubbing them softly, “You were right, I do have something special planned for us.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah,” Marcus takes a deep breath in and lets it out, “Babe, I knew from the moment that I met you I wanted to be with you.”
He pulls your hands to his lips and gives them a soft kiss.
“After our first date, I knew you were the one I wanted to be with for the rest of my life.”
He stands up and gets down on one knee. You can hear people begin to whisper around you, watching the scene before you unfold.
“Oh my god” You say holding his hand tighter, “Marcus?”
“Baby, I love you so very much and I—” he says, patting the pocket of his suit jacket. “Fuck.”
“Babe?”
“No, no, no,” Marcus says, frantically searching his suit jacket and pants. “This isn’t how it was supposed to go.”
“Marcus,” you say, holding his face, “Look at me.”
He looks up at you with those big brown eyes you love. “I swear there’s a ring. I changed my jacket not even think—"
“Babe, I don’t care.” You smile, interrupting his panicked ramblings, “Ask me.”
“But the ring?”
“Don’t care, ask me.”
“Will you marry me?”
“Yes!” You say, wrapping your arms around his neck slotting your mouth against his. You can hear several of the other patrons clapping.
“Congratulations!” Jared says, returning to your table with your dessert.
“Thank you!” You say, beaming with joy.
—
On the drive home you can’t stop smiling like an idiot while holding Marcus’ hand. This is everything you dreamed about as a little girl; finding the perfect person to spend your life with and that is Marcus through and through.
“I still can’t believe I forgot the fucking ring!” Marcus says, shaking his head.
“Babe, you could’ve asked me with a ring made of paper and I would’ve said yes,” you laugh, “That’s the last thing I care about.”
“Well, a paper ring would be better than nothing!”
Approaching a gas station on the side of the road, an idea popped into your head.
“Stop!” You yelp, “Stop at that gas station!”
Marcus gives you a sideways look but pulls in regardless. Never one to refuse your requests.
“Cash?” You ask with your sweetest smile.
“Why’d we stop here?” He asks, rolling his eyes while getting his wallet out and handing you a twenty. You just give him a mischievous grin while getting out of the car. The door dings when you step into the gas station, making a beeline to the candy aisle and finding exactly what you were looking for: A bag of ring pops. Unable to contain your excitement, you let out a little squeal while grabbing them and head to the front.
“That’ll be $4.98.” The cashier says after ringing up your candy. You slap the twenty down on the counter and grab the bag running out.
“Thank you! Keep the change!” You shout behind you.
Getting back to the car, you see Marcus shaking his head trying to hold in his laughter. You make quick work of opening the bag, getting one singular ring pop out, and opening that as well, tapping on his window quickly, telling him to get out of the car.
“What on earth are you doing, honey?” Marcus laughs, opening the car door.
“You said something would be better than nothing,” you laugh, “Here’s something!”
You hand him the ring pop. He shakes his head looking at it.
“Baby,” Marcus starts looking up at you. “A ring pop? Really?”
“Marcus!” You huff, crossing your arms, “Are you gonna ask me?”
“Here?!” Marcus looks at you with surprise, looking at the ground, “Babe, this is a gas station parking lot!”
“And?”
“Babe, my pants—“
“Marcus Vincent Pike,” You scold, giving him a look that he knows means business.
“Okay, okay,” He says laughing, grabbing your hand, sliding out of the seat of the car with one knee on the ground, “Baby, will you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?”
“Duh!” You say, jumping up and down as he slides the ring pop onto your finger. “It’s beautiful!”
Marcus bursts into laughter as you shove the ring pop into your mouth. “Tasty too!” You say after popping it out of your mouth.
Marcus grabs your hand, lifting it to his mouth, pushing the ring pop in, hollowing his cheeks a little, letting out a soft sigh. You can feel your mouth getting dry while you watch him suck on the ring pop. The makeshift engagement ring makes a soft pop as he lets it leave his mouth.
“I can think of something that’s sweeter,” he says with a sly smile and wink, letting go of your hand.
This most certainly helps! Makes me feel like I’m on the right track as well ❤️ Thank you so much for always trying to help me and others!!!! You’re the best 🤩
Congrats on 500! 🥳🎉 I’m not surprised at all that you have that many followers cause you are a badass and have amazing work 😘
💌-What is your process for writing? Do you do outlines? Do you have certain things you do to prepare yourself to write?
Thank you so much DD!!!
It's been so fun getting to know you and I'm so glad to be able to share this wonderful fandom with you.
Thank you for asking about my writing process! I hope my answer is a little helpful for you (if not a little bit long-winded).
I actually always start my fics by making a moodboard. While I'm making it, I'm thinking about details I want to include (besides the main ideas) and that helps my moodboard take shape and gets me in the right frame of mind. The moodboard can always be edited down the road if details end up getting changed, but that's how I start.
Then I start taking notes. I did an outline once but I prefer to go less formal now because I add details and the outline format was not conducive to that. I write major notes down as I've thought of them and then as I go through it a second and third time, I add in details.
I often think about certain parts of the story like scenes from a movie, and I like to think about them in detail, with specific dialogue. So I will write those things out too (roughly) and then I can go back later to fine-tune that whole scene. I will build my story around these scenes - them being the major plot points - and the rest gets filled in as I go along. I also get to know my characters more as I go along.
As an example - This scene (from chapter 6 of Devotion) - the highlighted dialogue was on my mind from the VERY beginning of this series conception back in December. I wrote it one of the very first days I was making notes on this story. The first picture (in green) is the raw stuff I put into my notes and below it (highlighted with yellow) is the final posted scene.


So yeah... I just take notes and add in details each time I go through, focus on main plot points (or scenes), and then write around them. I hope that helps!
This is so good!!! 😍😍 absolutely love that you made another part for it
Live a Little, Give a Little ... More [Part 2]
Joel Miller x F!Reader
Live a Little Give a Little part 1
![Live A Little, Give A Little ... More [Part 2]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/1cb36e9c5590537ba12c28ce613a18f4/5e186b05bd2d1c27-58/s500x750/cc058d31ae9e2d76e990f1d67b7bc14d4c304561.gif)
Summary: you've got one last stunt in you before you retire to have your baby--will your mystery Baby Daddy make a final appearance?
Warnings: Breeding kink, pregnancy, exhibition, groping, public sex, public teasing, dub con, manhandling, rape-esc situation that may be triggering, unprotected sex, creampie.
18+ ONLY
- - - -
You keep waving to your camera even after it clicks off and stops recording. Leaning back in your streaming chair, you close your eyes.
Well, you did exactly what you set out to do: gained a shit ton of views and earned a mega bonus from your subscribers, rating shooting up thanks to that little stunt you pulled a few months ago.
You peer down, drumming your fingers along the hefty bump that had grown in your belly since then. “Hope you’re a bit more responsible than me, kiddo,” you mumble, smiling softly as you stroke over with gentle fingers.
Getting pregnant was not exactly how you imagined achieving that feat.
In all honesty, the plan was never to fuck a stranger on a crowded train. You were on the pill, but STD and STIs were a thing, so the furthest you had genuinely planned with a few hand jobs and being groped by perverts.
But the second you felt that man on you, felt his cock pulse in your legs, something else over took you. Your whole bodies shivers with excitement every time recalling that day. Trying to etch every single detail into your memory. His callused hands, the firm, broad chest and shoulders that easily could overpower you, his warm thick fingers dancing along your skin, the trace of his breath along the shell of your ear, each beautiful little grunt and groan echoing in your ear like a broken record.
His massive fucking hung horse cock.
You’ve been fucked by big-dicked guys before. But to know how to use it so fucking well that you don’t need to be battered to a pulp just to feel it, is something that no man can compare to your handsome baby Daddy.
Slickness pools in your panties. At some point, your belly is going to be big enough that you won’t be able to touch yourself. But for now, as your hand dips into your underwear and gathers your arousal, you think about him.
If he was here now, would he make you cum on his fingers before you could have his cock buried to the hilt in you? Tell you that you’re a naughty girl, so fertile and sweet for the taking? A cum hungry dumb slut who doesn’t know how to function without his seed filling her up at every conceivable moment. Make you watch yourself in the mirror cum like a whore from his touch as he promises to breed and brand you over and over again for the world to see. You bite your lips, feeling him hot on your skin, balls twitching with each pulse of his seed dumping safely into your waiting womb to take him.
The thoughts of the faceless, nameless man who impregnated you on a crowded train during rush hour brings you to orgasm much quicker than any toy or method you’ve tested. Your jaw drops in a silent scream, a slight grin tugging on your lips as you rub your pussy through her little quakes, desperate to feel complete again.
You come down from your high, sticky fingers tracing along your belly as you drift into your current situation, ironically brought on by your insatiable horny lust.
No, you didn’t intend to have sex with a stranger that day. And when you weighed the odds in the nano-second before he impaled you… I mean, even if you got an infection, so what, just this once? What OnlyFans streamer didn’t have a disease or two? (No, please don’t take that advice)
You got tested immediately afterwards, and thankfully everything else came back negative from your fun encounter.
It only took a few more weeks after that of peculiar symptoms to get tested for something else that, to you genuine surprise, was positive.
And you don’t know the father.
The man must have super sperm to have blown past your supposedly unstoppable birth control, which hadn’t even failed you when you did that 5 creampie amateur gang bang porno last summer. Maybe you were only an hour late in taking your dosage on time that one day, too drunk and more concerned about fingering him cum back into you, but still…
You went into shock for a solid week, not sure what to do. Sometimes even now you feel a little jolt in your tummy, and see your body changing, and it just keeps dawning on you that you’re actually about to have a whole ass child.
It’s both thrilling and horrifying shook up in a bottle of hormones and currently sitting on the edge of a cliff. You should scold yourself for how stupid you were, if only you actually regretted it. Even if you’re about to be a single mother who cant explain a thing to your soon to be child about their daddy, you knew you were gonna love you baby. No doubts.
Besides, when you were more financially stable, you DID plan to have kids at some point. So what if it’s a little sooner than expected? Life is full of unexpected surprises!
You decided after the baby is born, no more streaming. You were gonna get a more stable, (more cloth required) job and raise your precious kiddo on your own.
But a few teasing streams until then, just to milk those breeding, misogynistic, baby bump hungry men out there willing to throw money at you if you rubbed milk over your belly, would be worth those extra bucks before calling it quits altogether.
Still, it would be nice feel him just one more time…
-
Joel’s been watching your stream obsessively since that day you brazenly showed your pregnant belly to the world. He’s got notifications going off on his phone every time you upload something.
Even with his cock in his hand, most of the time you just talk to your followers, answer their questions about your pregnancy so far, and about that day.
He sees the way your eyes glint, the corner of your lips curving into an unashamed smile as you retell details about him.
Sure, all the lonely fucks in the chat spam your inbox “that’s so hot”, “god I wish that were me,” “can I use your holes and breed you next? My bus departs in 30 mins ;)”
Honestly, who’s to say you aren’t pulling a total bluff? You’re a porn streamer; it’s your job to feed into men like his fantasies. Maybe you had fucked a dozen guys on the train that day, got pregnant from one of them, and only uploaded Joel’s session because it was the hottest? Maybe you were already pregnant, and you’re just spinning a scandalous story for your followers to hold on to? And who’s to say you don’t already have a cuck boyfriend or husband, who could have been filming or watching you two on the train that day from a different angle?
The thought of you belonging to another man, of the baby you “claim” to his being another’s makes his hand grip his cock tightly, teeth grinding down on one another while staring at your beautiful eyes and smile through the computer screen.
He drops a pool of spit on to his tip before sheathing it over with his hand, lubing his cock. You would usually end the stream with some tease:
“God, my breasts are just getting so sore,” you groan dramatically. You unbutton your blouse and reveal your naked cleavage. “Don’t even have any more bras because they’re getting so damn heavy!” You cup them and moan into the camera, relieving the ache while pinching your nipples.
Joel licks his lips. He had gotten to know you (or the version of you on your stream) a lot more intimately thanks to discovering your blog. He spent hours studying every detail that he missed. Its one thing to have dumped his load into your exquisite pussy, but to be able to see your face, hear your unashamed moans, ogle your gorgeous breasts and body that he had been denied that day makes him yearn to have you one more time.
Your belly had grown just as quickly, drooping over your pelvis just a bit more than before. You’re not at full mast yet. He watches how you maneuver, maybe a little slower or more bulky than before. It fills him with pride, seeing how much you’re having to struggle with his child growing in you. At the very least, you can still reach to get a bulbous pink dildo in your cunt and flash the camera as you masturbate, crying out as you beg Daddy to breed you again.
Joel cups his balls with one hand while the other furiously works over his shaft. His stomach tenses, building towards his release with eyes transfixed on the way that little cunt still has enough room to fit that toy. He would know, you took him with very little prep.
“That’s it baby, come on, Come for Daddy,” he groans. Doesn’t care that he’s jerking off in a dark room by himself to a brightly lit screen of his baby momma that doesn’t even know him. Yet.
You moan directly into the camera, mouth agape as you thrust the dildo in and out, hitting that sweet spot that has your eyes rolling. You spread your legs over the chair, and the skin strewn across your belly tightens as a gush of liquid squirts out of your pussy.
“Fuck Daddy, making my pussy squirt so fuckin good! M so full my cunt can’t hold all my naughty juices, too full with your cock and your cum and your baby!!”
Haggard groans rumble in his throat as his cock erupts into jets of white ribbons, shooting along the computer screen and covering your face as you smile and lick the dildo clean. He milks his sack of the last little spurts of cum before sighing and leaning back against the chair, dreaming about painting your womb white again with his next load.
When you come down from your high, and the last of the generous tips come flowing in, you usually rub along your swollen tummy. Sometimes it’s subconscious, like you’re comforting your child, other times it’s for the show, twirling around and pushing it out to show everyone how big you’ve gotten. Your voice centers him back to reality.
“And before I forget, I have one final announcement: After our little baby is born, I will be retiring.” You smile softly, but there’s a sense of gratitude mixed with sadness. “I know! It’s been such a great journey, and I’ve never felt soooo good about something as amazing as this, and to share it all with you is more than I could have ever hoped. So as a final send off, I’m doing one last exhibition piece.”
Joel leans, ignoring the stain of his cum drying along his shirt and smudged into his laptop.
“If you’re out there, Daddio, I want to meet you. Catch me in the same area, around the same time—and no I’m not going to tell you all exactly where on here! If you’re there, you’ll know—and if not, I will be streaming the whole thing live this time so don’t miss out! Even if I can’t find my blessing baby daddy, I will certainly still be putting on a show for however many lucky bastards get to grope a pregnant, single slut like me!”
-
You stand along the train platform, anxiously glancing over your shoulder at the random passersby just trying to catch a commute. Some men have definitely eyed you in less than innocent ways already. It’s a cest pool of perverts today.
You contemplate the biggest hiccup in your plan: You know the only chance you have to recognize him is from feeling his huge dick splitting you open again. Cinderella slipper style, if you will. You didn’t have a name, an address, any identifiable features—you wouldn’t even be able to recognize his face if it were right in front of you given that you never really saw more than a blurred partial reflection of it in the first place. That monster cock is the only thing that you’re betting your life on right now to find him.
But for the safety of your baby—you had 0 plans to fuck anybody today. And I mean it this time.
The wind from the train tunnels keeps riling up your frilly dress, the fabric now fitting a little more snug than it did before thanks to your baby on the way. There’s a sense of excitement mixed with disappointment steaming in your flip flops. No, you had no hope of actually finding him again.
But who’s to say you can’t still have a little fun, touch some dicks, get your tits squeezed and call it a successful career?
Rush hour got a bit crazy, and boy were the men just as in a hurry. You bit your lip and smiled at a man who brushed by you, his hand happily squeezing your little ass cheek through your dress. He seemed young, thin, definitely not your man, but his long fingers did feel nice, caressing your hips as he grinned to you as well. Swaying your chest in front of him, he peers over your cleavage. The two of you waited along the platform, the crowd shifting awkwardly around you waiting for the train. You twiddled your hair, angling your phone up so it could capture his hand gently caressing your lower belly.
His eyes widen in surprise: your bump wasn’t entirely obvious under the skirt of the dress, still small enough to be concealed under baggy clothing but very obvious the moment you feel it or pull the fabric tight. You giggle as he eagerly stroked over your belly, and you can barely see the twinkle of a fantasy forming behind those eyes.
The train followed forward a little too soon, and the man got on without another glance at you. Probably his wedding ring might have had something to do with it, but no matter. You remained where you were.
When the cart rushed past again, the wind blowing your dress, you caught the eye of a group of two behind you. You winked at them, lifting your skirt scandalously to show off your bare ass and wiggle at them, before enticing them to follow you behind the stairwell.
You propped your phone up quickly, conveniently cutting off from the neck up to disguise their faces before they too rounded the corner. One was a bit shorter, dark haired, maybe around 40s with a full beard. His hands were all wrong, not your guy, but you didn’t deter him as he stroked along your cheek and down your cleavage, pulling the fabric of the dress tight to see your swollen tits.
The other man, tall and muscular under that tight shirt, blond and younger, pressed firmly along your back, the outline of his cock making you rub your ass along his crotch. You quickly reached behind you and stroked his stiff bulge while they pinched your nipple through your dress, held the weight of your pregnant belly and brushed their knuckles along your inner thigh.
Their faces didn’t matter. Maybe they were your fans, maybe they were just some lucky pervs at the right place at the right time. Either of them could be your mystery man, while neither could be too. You try to brush off your disappointment with a flirty laugh, stroking both of them through their trousers as they breathed in your perfume and continued to touch your body. No, their cocks were all wrong. It didn’t feel this rigid or this plump, his tip was more bulbous than this, and the curvature is in the opposite direction.
You glanced at your camera, making sure you’re getting good angles of your pronounced body sandwiched between these two creeps. They didn’t say much, thankfully, and you didn’t care to talk. Your feed was blowing up, with them none the wiser at behind recorded. It’s not until you peep again at the screen that you see a third man entering the frame behind you.
The other guys shift uncomfortably at his intrusion, but you look up at lucky perv number three. You don’t bat an eye when he boldly put his hand between your thighs and slid up along your skin, thick digits grazing your wet folds. You hum contently. Oh, he’s here for the cake. You try not to go hazy, eying the cheeky bastard while being stimulated all over.
His height was between the other two but that didn’t make him any less imposing. Broad around the shoulders with a bit of a soft tummy, but his denim shirt hugged those biceps so well. And he’s older too, much older due to the wrinkles under his brown eyes and the grays starting to take over in his curled hair and patchy beard—
Your brows furrow for a second, not enough time to process your thoughts before he’s shoving the other two men aside despite their protests and walking you back against the tiled wall, your bum resting on the metal bar there. His torso parts your legs perfectly, and you gasp, hands gripping his shoulders to keep your balance. He only grins, something very knowing behind that look, a secret you feel left out from, and you’re about to call it all off until he rolls that massive THANG between his legs against your uncovered core.
You moan out in surprise, your head falls forward on his chest. He growls something out to the other guys, who end up scurrying away with their palms pressed on their crotches like scared dogs.
“L-Look, mister,” you say, and fuck you should be trying to fight this harder. Especially with the jangle of his belt coming undone between you. You don’t want some stranger fucking you—again—that defeats the whole purpose of the tease! You could still shout for help, there’s plenty of other people just around the corner if he tries anything funny. And your baby, your health, your safety— “I don’t —I’m not in the mood for anything—penetrative. But I could satisfy you in other ways,” you huff, dragging your lower lip between your teeth.
He smirks again. His breath is warm, so close to your face you could almost kiss him. He feels so strong yet so soft, holding you securely against him, his hand cradling your belly while his tented cock pressed along your clit. Your hearts racing, beating wildly that you don’t doubt he can’t feel it against his own. Maybe he’s considering it, something willing yet still satisfying. You feel drunk off him despite only sampling the scent of him, not the taste quite yet.
He holds your gaze with his curved nose honing yours. Its intimate.
Familiar.
You should protest at least a little when he flips you around and bends you over. He’s got one hand protectively over your belly, making sure you don’t fall into the wall. You glance up, and the sight of your body positioned perfectly centered at your camera. Fuck—he knew where the camera was? Was he a fan watching your stream before he came over? Your shocked expression fills the screen as his torso and hips press against your ass, yellow dress flipped over your hips for his private view.
Your mind is reeling, unaware of the thick slap of his length against your folds—that jolts your attention. You know that cock…
He thrusts in all at once. No voice escapes your parted lips to convey the cross eyed, fantastic, unbelievable, one in a million stretch that you had been missing for months, now filling you up to the brim and suffocating every available micro meter inside of you, and making you whole again. The same stretch, the one that’s making you cum on his cock right now, flooding your senes as arousal electrifies every nerve in your body.
The man behind you only chuckles, still getting the perfect view of your gaping mouth and furled brows reflected on the phone scream. he hisses lowly between his teeth as you continue to clench around his cock with your sweet wet little cunt. It’s like scanning a membership, and your body finally recognizes the owner of the shop. You pant harshly into the bar, walls convulsing over his thick length buried deep to your occupied womb.
The man that had placated your mind, your pussy and womb for the last 6 months, the man who left the best gift you’d ever received, the man right here in the flesh, that you had almost considered a dream were it not for the growing swell of his child in your womb occupying your delirium…
He leans over you, just enough so that only his lips are visible at the top of the screen, his voice ghosting along your ear: “Hi babygirl. Missed you. Looks like you have a little surprise for Daddy.” You feel his bear palms caress your swollen tummy.
Your lips curl into a delirious smile, lashes fluttering in blissful patterns of love as your entire being welcomes this man into the home he’s already carved out of you.
Even your baby nestled small in your womb wiggles excitedly at the recognition of her Daddy.
Neither of you look away from another as he begins thrusting into you, rocking your body back and forth along his member like the toy you’re so good at being.
He was amazing—no, better than before if it’s possible. Impossibly hard, long, thick and throbbing, all shoved up your pussy with desperate ruts, impaling your soaking pussy over and over again. You had to remind yourself, still lost like a love sick puppy in his eyes, that you were still in public, being fucked raw, pregnant, behind the stairwell of a crowded train station during rush hour. Nosy chatter echoed through the tunnel as the two of you humped against one another, partially clothed minus your genitals connected in a haze of passionate fucking. The phone in front of you is only forgotten, and you can only imagine the comments and tips blowing up at the fact that you’d actually found him.
Despite the openness, the vulnerability of your position, it feels far more intimate, just the two of you fucking to your hearts content. You’ll wonder later about the wondering eyes from trains beginning to enter the station and seeing the two of you in the blurred windows , but right now, you’d be ready to take his second bastard child right this second.
Your handsome hero reaches past you and turns the recording off, flipping the phone down. If he’s going to have you again, really have you, it would be his own little private show. No camera. No show. He abruptly pulls out before spinning you around and nestling himself between your thighs again, his cock aligning to your entrance before sliding right back in. Right where he belongs.
“Oooooh shiiiit. Shit Momma, you’re so good at taking it,” he rasps into your neck. He presses a wet kiss along your throat, each thrust pushing you back but he holds you close and sucks you right into his grasp again. Your open lips hover over one another as he sets his pace again, his tip now kissing your cervix with each kiss of your pregnant belly to his naval.
“It’s mine, isn’t it?” He growls with an edge of desperation. “Tell me it’s mine.” Beads of sweat begin to form along the creases of his forehead, but he didn’t once consider slowing his pace. With the pay your ass jiggles at each slap of skin.
“It’s yours,” you cry. There’s no doubt. your heart screams with joy just as the knot in your stomach snaps. he grips your mouth with his strong hand as your head rolls in ecstasy, wailing out into his flesh with unfiltered moans.
Harsh breaths are forced out of his nose, his lips switching between a snarl and a grin as he nears his end.
“Inside,” you hum into his ear.
He wasn’t planning on putting it anywhere else. With one final heave, he lifts you off the rail briefly, your weight balncing under his arms and your tiptoes on the ground as he bursts inside of you, painting your walls with his hot cream.
You both breathe in the polluted air. Distant echoes of the rafters rattling in the darkened caves ahead while footsteps rustle down the metal stairs behind the two of you. The breeze of the caverned tunnels cools the sweat along both your bodies. He hasn’t let go, still glued to you, holding you close as if you’d slip away.
You sit upright in his lap, trying to catch your breath. You survey one another, pupils blown wide yet calming. The two of you just giggle as your pants slowly sync together. His rough yet gentle fingertips stroke your cheek before brushing away the strands of messy hair that had covered your beautiful face, and for the first time, he can really get a full look at you in person.
“I’m Joel,” he says sweetly. He brings your knuckles to his lips and presses a gentle and long kiss, never once breaking eye contact with you.
You shake your head and laugh, offering your name to him as well.
Although, at this point, with his cock still impaled deep inside, his baby growing in your womb— its safe to say the two of you are well past such a redundant formality.
-----
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Ohhh!!! How did you know I’d wanna see something from Frankie and Mouse?! 😍🫠😍🫠
Beeeeef!!!!! I’m so proud of you for reaching 900 followers! You deserve it so much ❤️ You are so talented with the way you can word things, write the best chubby!Pboy, and I’m so glad that I’m getting know you better! 😍
Now! Show me something you’re working on!!! 🍳

I love how you meet my feral-ness and push for more. So glad we met, Deedle!
You wanna WIP? Lemme see what I have in in the ol' Test Kitchen... Ah yes! From deep in the cellar, we have a sample from something called: FM - WIP #15 - Vacay - CF&M... [i know.. i need to work on the title... but that's future kiki's problem]
Yours in sin,
Beefro👌🥩💜
When you and Frankie had agreed to completely letting him go wild on your all-inclusive two-week cruise, you couldn’t have imagined this. Not in your wildest dreams. It was the end of day two and Frankie was currently sitting back, leaning against the headboard of your king-sized bed, belly completely distended. For two days straight, he’d done nothing but eat at the buffet and bask in the sun, and it showed. His skin was a beautiful bronze, and his stomach was round and taut. “Mouse, baby… can you grab me a beer? I’m thirsty…”, he asked with a sheepish smile. You raised an eyebrow and crossed your arms in mock-irritation. “Oh? Can’t get it yourself?” He chuckled, his tummy bouncing a bit as he did, then he winced and rubbed his hands tenderly along his sides. “Baby… please…”, he whined. You smiled and grabbed a beer from the mini-fridge, walked over to the bed, and crawled onto what was available of his lap. You popped the lid off the beer and handed it to him, your hands then gently rubbing his very full tummy. “Feeling pretty full…”, you cooed as you applied gentle pressure to his tummy, under his belly button, and gave it a bit of a bounce. It didn’t move all that much. “You sure you got room for a beer, Frankie? Belly’s feeling tight…” He took a drink and nodded with a grin. “Yeah… I got room. Didn’t eat that much.”
Im so glad you liked it! @heareball ❤️

Paper Rings
Pairing: Marcus Pike x f!reader
Warnings: MDNI blog in general is 18+ go on now, get. Fluff, innuendos, panicked Marcus, cussing, think that's it?
Summary: Marcus wants to ask you an important question.
Mood board made by the amazing @jay-zzle, divider made by @saradika-graphics
Prompt by: @swiftispunk, let me know what ya think!
thank you @notjustjavierpena for taking a look at this and helping me with it! ❤️
Masterlist

Tonight’s the night, Marcus thinks on his drive home. He’s going to ask her to marry him. After their first date, he knew deep down she was the one. Three years later and the feeling hasn’t changed. He’s asked her dad’s permission, the ring has been sitting in his dresser for months now, the reservations have been made at Mastro’s Steakhouse. He clicks the remote for the garage as he pulls into the driveway, taking a deep breath in and out before getting out of the car and going into the house.
You hear the door open downstairs; Marcus must be home. Just in time too; he had told you earlier this morning about making reservations somewhere and to dress pretty like you always do. Working on the finishing touches of your makeup, you see his reflection in the bathroom mirror smiling at you, leaning against the doorway.
“Hey babe,” you greet him with a warm smile, “I am almost done. Is there anything you need to do to get ready?”
“Not much,” Marcus responds, walking away from the doorway to the dresser, glancing over his shoulder to make sure you’re still in the bathroom, and slowly opening the drawer he knows the ring is in, “Need to use the bathroom before we go and might change my suit jacket.” His hand creeps to the very back of the dresser, feeling for that velvet box he knows all too well is there. His fingers touch it, grasping it in his hand, quickly pulling it out, and shoving it into his jacket pocket just as you’re leaving the bathroom. He shuts the drawer quickly and turns to look at you.
“What are you doing?” You ask, giving him a suspicious look.
“Nothing,” he replies, raising his eyebrows, noticing the lone pair of socks on the floor that escaped the drawer as he was pulling the ring out, “Was going to change my socks. My feet feel gross.”
“Okay?” You giggle, shaking your head, getting your shoes on, “Weirdo.”
“Shush, you love me and wouldn’t have it any other way.” He grins at you, picking up the socks and going to sit on the bed.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” You grin, “Will you help me with the back of my dress?”
He helps zip your dress up, giving the back of your neck a light kiss, shucking off his suit jacket, and laying it on the bed on his way to the bathroom.
“I’ll meet you downstairs.”
__
“Where are we going?” You ask, looking over at Marcus, waiting for the red light to change.
“Now what’s the fun in telling you when it is supposed to be a surprise?” He says, squeezing your thigh, “Patience.”
You roll your eyes and scoff. The car starts moving again when the light turns green. Marcus is so meticulous in everything he does. Always has a plan, a certain way of doing things, likes to be spontaneous to an extent but usually always a set schedule. You love those things about him, he’s the comfort in the chaos that life can sometimes be. He pulls into one of the fanciest restaurants in Washington D.C.
“Oh my god, Marcus,” you whisper, “How on earth did you get a reservation?”
“I was able to make some calls,” he says, stepping out of the vehicle, making his way to your door. “Had some people who owed me some favors.” He explains, opening your door for you and offering his hand. You take his hand and let him lead you. Handing off his keys to the valet. Walking into the restaurant you are greeted by the hostess.
“Good evening, sir,” she says with a bright smile, “Name?”
“Should be under Pike.”
“Ah yes, right this way.” She says, marking in the book and grabbing a couple menus before leading the way.
You cannot believe your eyes looking around at this place. There is a bar, a live jazz band playing, and plenty of couples sitting at the other tables.
“Is this table okay, Mr. Pike?” The hostess asks when she stops at an empty table.
“It’s perfect, thank you.” Marcus smiles, stepping over to the chair closest to you and sliding it out for you.
“Your waiter will be right with you.” She says, giving a small nod setting the menus down on the table.
You sit in the chair, grabbing the menu, watching Marcus move to the other side of the table to sit down across from you.
“So, Mr. Pike,” you smirk, “What on earth is the special occasion?”
“Just wanted to take you somewhere nice,” he replies, cocking an eyebrow, “Is that not allowed?”
“You’re up to something.”
“I am not,” Marcus grins, opening his menu, “What do you think you’ll have?”
“I’m thinking the salmon, although those crab cakes would be a good start, don’t you think?”
“Whatever you want, baby.”
“Good evening and welcome to Mastro’s Steakhouse, I’m Jared and I’ll be your waiter this evening.” A young man who approaches the table says, “Can I get you two something to drink?”
“I want whatever wine pairs the best with the New York strip, sweetheart?”
“You know, I’ll think I’ll do the same thing he’s doing, Mr. Wine Connoisseur over there,” you laugh, “Whatever pairs well with the salmon dish.”
“Alright, I will ask the chef what he thinks would be the best.”
“Oh!” You say as Jared starts to leave the table, “Crab cakes! We want the crab cakes as our appetizer.”
“Of course, ma’am.”
—
It’s now or never, Marcus thinks. The evening went exactly how he wanted it to, the meal was fantastic, the wine amazing, the dessert ordered to go will be arriving soon. This is the perfect moment to ask her.
“You know,” Marcus says, grabbing your hands, rubbing them softly, “You were right, I do have something special planned for us.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah,” Marcus takes a deep breath in and lets it out, “Babe, I knew from the moment that I met you I wanted to be with you.”
He pulls your hands to his lips and gives them a soft kiss.
“After our first date, I knew you were the one I wanted to be with for the rest of my life.”
He stands up and gets down on one knee. You can hear people begin to whisper around you, watching the scene before you unfold.
“Oh my god” You say holding his hand tighter, “Marcus?”
“Baby, I love you so very much and I—” he says, patting the pocket of his suit jacket. “Fuck.”
“Babe?”
“No, no, no,” Marcus says, frantically searching his suit jacket and pants. “This isn’t how it was supposed to go.”
“Marcus,” you say, holding his face, “Look at me.”
He looks up at you with those big brown eyes you love. “I swear there’s a ring. I changed my jacket not even think—"
“Babe, I don’t care.” You smile, interrupting his panicked ramblings, “Ask me.”
“But the ring?”
“Don’t care, ask me.”
“Will you marry me?”
“Yes!” You say, wrapping your arms around his neck slotting your mouth against his. You can hear several of the other patrons clapping.
“Congratulations!” Jared says, returning to your table with your dessert.
“Thank you!” You say, beaming with joy.
—
On the drive home you can’t stop smiling like an idiot while holding Marcus’ hand. This is everything you dreamed about as a little girl; finding the perfect person to spend your life with and that is Marcus through and through.
“I still can’t believe I forgot the fucking ring!” Marcus says, shaking his head.
“Babe, you could’ve asked me with a ring made of paper and I would’ve said yes,” you laugh, “That’s the last thing I care about.”
“Well, a paper ring would be better than nothing!”
Approaching a gas station on the side of the road, an idea popped into your head.
“Stop!” You yelp, “Stop at that gas station!”
Marcus gives you a sideways look but pulls in regardless. Never one to refuse your requests.
“Cash?” You ask with your sweetest smile.
“Why’d we stop here?” He asks, rolling his eyes while getting his wallet out and handing you a twenty. You just give him a mischievous grin while getting out of the car. The door dings when you step into the gas station, making a beeline to the candy aisle and finding exactly what you were looking for: A bag of ring pops. Unable to contain your excitement, you let out a little squeal while grabbing them and head to the front.
“That’ll be $4.98.” The cashier says after ringing up your candy. You slap the twenty down on the counter and grab the bag running out.
“Thank you! Keep the change!” You shout behind you.
Getting back to the car, you see Marcus shaking his head trying to hold in his laughter. You make quick work of opening the bag, getting one singular ring pop out, and opening that as well, tapping on his window quickly, telling him to get out of the car.
“What on earth are you doing, honey?” Marcus laughs, opening the car door.
“You said something would be better than nothing,” you laugh, “Here’s something!”
You hand him the ring pop. He shakes his head looking at it.
“Baby,” Marcus starts looking up at you. “A ring pop? Really?”
“Marcus!” You huff, crossing your arms, “Are you gonna ask me?”
“Here?!” Marcus looks at you with surprise, looking at the ground, “Babe, this is a gas station parking lot!”
“And?”
“Babe, my pants—“
“Marcus Vincent Pike,” You scold, giving him a look that he knows means business.
“Okay, okay,” He says laughing, grabbing your hand, sliding out of the seat of the car with one knee on the ground, “Baby, will you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?”
“Duh!” You say, jumping up and down as he slides the ring pop onto your finger. “It’s beautiful!”
Marcus bursts into laughter as you shove the ring pop into your mouth. “Tasty too!” You say after popping it out of your mouth.
Marcus grabs your hand, lifting it to his mouth, pushing the ring pop in, hollowing his cheeks a little, letting out a soft sigh. You can feel your mouth getting dry while you watch him suck on the ring pop. The makeshift engagement ring makes a soft pop as he lets it leave his mouth.
“I can think of something that’s sweeter,” he says with a sly smile and wink, letting go of your hand.