#content submission

[britchell]

Hello everyone and happy smutty sunday; happy BCF month too!! weve come with the first anonymous submision of the month! (do you remember the smut roulette?)

Anders' breath hitched as Mitchell's hands traced a slow, reverent path across his bare chest. Every touch felt like an artist tracing across his finest work, each movement deliberate and filled with unspoken admiration. Mitchell's gaze followed the curve of Anders' body, his eyes dark with desire and a profound, almost sacred awe. "You're perfect," Mitchell murmured, his voice low and husky, as he leaned in to press a fervent kiss to Anders' collarbone. "Let me show you just how much you mean to me."

Anders shivered, the warmth of Mitchell's breath across his skin sending a small wave of anticipation down his spine. Moving his arms to wrap around the neck of the other, he could feel the intensity of Mitchell's focus, every kiss and touch an act of pure devotion, pure adoration. Mitchell's lips continued their journey, mapping out Anders' body with a slurry of tenderness and hunger, making him feel cherished in a way he had never known before. Mitchell's hands moved lower, exploring the planes of Anders' abdomen, his fingers tracing the lines of his muscles, the small hills of his bones. "I want to worship every inch of you," Mitchell whispered, his words a promise that sent a surge of heat through Anders' veins. "Will you let me?" Mitchell asked, his focused gaze moving upward to meet Anders'. Anders let out a breathy sigh, "Yes," he barely got out from between his lips, his desperate voice earning a smile from Mitchell. "Such a good boy," Mitchell praised, moving to press another delicate row of measured kisses along the chest of his lover. Mitchell's hands made their way to the edge of the fabric lining Anders' hips, easily finding the button to undo it. His kisses began to press lower and lower on the bare skin of Anders' abdomen, earning small hitched breaths and quiet whines of anticipation.

"You're so beautiful," Mitchell hummed against Anders' skin between these devoted kisses. "Absolutely breathtaking," he swore to the other, one hand tracing his waist, the other unzipping the pants that so desperately needed to be removed. Anders could barely keep his gaze on Mitchell, his cheeks flushing a deeper and deeper red with each comment. "Stop saying things like that already," he murmured, embarrassed at the unsteadiness of his own voice. "I cant. I won't. I crave you. I want you, Anders. Every inch of your gorgeous body. Every valley and hill of your skin. Every blink of your captivating eyes. The caress of your hands, and the patter of your feet across the floor," Mitchell pressed on, sliding the fabric off of Anders' body, observing every bit of him as it was uncovered. Anders' dick sprang forth from the fabric, already hard and eager, with a suppressed moan slipping from the man's throat. "Mm," Mitchell hummed with approval, moving to trace along the inner thigh of Anders. "And I couldn't ever get enough of you," he continued, hands navigating to Anders balls, gently massaging as he looked back up to try to meet the others' gaze once more. The unsteady, nearly drunken gaze that he Anders returned to him gave him his own wave of sheer lust. He could feel his own bulge pressing at the front of his bottoms, begging to be let out, to be inside this heavenly being. "Gods, you're so fucking hot, Anders," his low, lustful voice asserted, hand now moving to grasp at the soft flesh of Anders ass. A stifled moan left Anders as he moved his own hand to grasp into Mitchell's hair. Mitchell's lips now moved along his thigh his breath grazing the beautiful length before him. Anders closed his eyes, basking in the touch and letting these feelings overtake his mind and body. A warm, wet mouth slipping over his dick with a hum strengthened his grasp in the locks of Mitchell's hair and urged his mouth agape.

The sounds cascading from the lips of the sweet man above him was all the encouragement Mitchell needed to damn-near suck the soul out of him. The moans, the pleasured shifts and twitches, the waves of uncontrolled swearing and cursing - Anders swore he was dreaming. Anders breath caught as he felt the edge of climax waving over him, his body tensing noticably. "Hmm, what is it, my love?" Mitchell questioned with a knowing smile. "Fuck," Anders breathed as another squeeze cleared every thought but those of the man before him from his head. "I want you," he managed, "I want you to fuck me," he demanded, looking into Mitchell's eyes with near desperation. "I'm working on it," Mitchell assured, "I've got you," he hummed along, shifting his upper body to grab the lube kept on the bedside table. Anders hands in his hair, arms wrapping around his neck, kept Mitchell's gaze on the beautiful face of his lover as he slipped the first lubed digit in. Anders body tensed, but only for a moment - more out of anticipation than anything - before Mitchell pressed further inside, urging a satisfied moan from Anders. "What wonderful sounds you're making for me," Mitchell cooed as the hand in his hair tightened it's grip, the moans in his ear only adding fuel to his burning desire. He continued on like this for a short while, pushing and pulling the digit, before adding another. "You're doing so good," Mitchell praised the other, scissoring the digits, granting him even more of the sounds he so craved. Mitchell kept up with this, Anders dick dribbling both saliva and precum, until he could slip in a third digit and get his lover accustomed to the feeling. "Are you ready, my love?" Mitchell's husky voiced questioned, pulling his fingers from the man and earning a shiver from Anders. "I've been-" A quick but soft shush interrupted Anders. "Shhhhh, my love. Yes, or no?" Mitchell delicately posed, wrapping a hand along the side of Anders side. "Yes," Anders spoke in a near-whisper, watching as Mitchell reached to pull his own cock from the pants sat squarely across his hips. Mitchell looked up once more with a smile across his lips, pulling Anders close and pushing his own throbbing cock into the desperate man. Mitchell started slowly, almost teasingly, to fuck Anders. His pace would quicken as he pressed rough kisses into Anders neck and growl sweet, dirty remarks to his lover. "You feel so good, my beautiful, perfect fuck toy," He wanted to fuck every thought from Anders mind. His could tell he was rather close to achieving this goal by the near animalistic sounds, the desperate, needy moans, the clenching and tightening of his lovers muscles. He quickened his pace once more, a harsh slapping, pounding, rough pace as Anders whimpered and moaned for him, for more, for release. "That's right, Anders, come for me," Mitchell's voice ordered, his own body beginning to crave the same release he desired to entice from the other. His pace becoming uneven, but his ferocity not faltering even a bit, Mitchell pressed deep into his lover. Once, and then again, and once more, earning him the heavenly cries of his lover's climax. He felt the muscles of his partner tighten and tremble around his cock, easily urging his own orgasm forth as he pressed once more, deeply and desperately, into Anders. He let this wave take him, and let out his own shaky, breathy moan as he came deep inside Anders.

[fililoveskili]

SUBMISSION POST!!

We’re happy to announce we got out first ANONYMOUS FiKi submission!! On our FORM

Pairing: FiKi

Rating: M 👀

TW/CW: none

One of the first mandates of Thorin as a king was to name Fili general, with his battle experience in the battle of the five armies, and the trust he gained from the company it seemed like only the most sensible choice; of course because dwarves are folk of their customs. The fact that he was under a hundred years old was the first to bother his troops as well

They never disrespected him mainly out of fear of Thorin Oakenshield himself (and sometimes Dwalin; who would lurk the halls looking for anybody stupid enough to be talking shit in public) but if there was ever a doubt about his character and abilities it usually was during training; the troops would rarely find drills and planning as important as the blonde did; and more often than not would be jittery, waiting to smash thru something with axes or swords.

The troops of the realm of Erebor usually had a better understanding with the other son of Durin

The younger one

A wild and strange creature….tall and beardless and extremely unserious like most warriors where anyway. Kili, like the rest of them, refused to see the importance of a fire drill or a dragon drill, let alone two daily hours of basic war strategy and he makes sure everyone knows about it, not really used to the feeling of camaraderie since it was always him alone back at the blue mountains he may let himself go with his loose comments and agreeing maybe too quickly about the “unnecessarily complicated training”

It's quiet at first, in the end, Kili is still the younger of the two and for whatever reason he respects Fili, so it's just eye rolls and huffs, but it quickly morphs into groans and joining in on the laughs about his “paranoia” and the name they´ve given him “sargeant plan-it-all”.

Of course, Kili means no harm to Fili at all but the way Thorin, Balin and the board see it, Fili is losing the respect of his troop, and a warrior who doesn't respect its captain is a liability to the kingdom.

It all comes crashing down one painful morning, the air already tense about the over a hundred laps Fili had had them do when Kili saunters into the training yard, noticeably late and unapologetically so. His boots scuffing lazily against the stone as he joins the group, his bow slung over one shoulder.

“you're late!”

“Sorry, Fee” Kili says breezily, using the nickname Fili has asked him a million times to keep private, his tone anything but apologetic.

“Well please leave; we’re about to do battle training and since you can't make it on time then you just can’t show up at all” Kili huffs desperately, annoyed as ever, he walks off the field, mumbling his discomfort and something along the lines of “ I figured I’d skip the boring part” and “Just waiting for the good stuff.”which in time provokes the explosion of all the tension built from the prior weeks in fits of laughter. A few dwarves clanging their weapons together in mock applause, while others exchanged shocked little looks, knowing that Kili’s blatant dismissal of his brother's authority was a never before seen event.

Fili tightened his grip on the sword in his hand. His gaze locked onto Kili, who stood much too calm, smirking faintly. The sound of the soldiers' amusement echoed loudly on the yard, drilling inside Fili´s brain.

“Enough!” his voice thundered over the commotion, sharp and unyielding. The laughter cut off abruptly, leaving an uncomfortable silence.

But before Fili could say more, Dwalin strode into the yard, his presence was enough to make them all shut up but admittedly, it was a little mistimed, now they would all think Fili needed a saviour. His expression was dark as his gaze swept over the group, lingering on Kili, whose smirk faltered.

“What in Durin’s name is going on here?” Dwalin barks, his voice rough and filled with fury.

No one answers for a while. The soldiers shuffling uncomfortably, their earlier bravado melting under Dwalin’s glare.

He turns to Fili, his tone softening slightly. “Lad, take the rest of the day. All of you.” He cast a meaningful glance at the troops. “You’ll better fucking rest because tomorrow you´re in for it..”

There was a collective groan as the soldiers began to disperse, though none dared to argue. Kili hesitated, his expression unreadable as he glanced between Dwalin and Fili.

“Kili,” Dwalin growled, his voice low and dangerous. “Go.”

Kili opened his mouth to protest, but the look in Dwalin’s eyes silenced him. With a sigh, he slung his bow over his shoulder and followed the others out of the yard, his steps slower than the rest.

As the yard emptied, Dwalin turned to Fili, his expression unreadable. “You’ll get there, lad. It’ll just take time.”

Fili nods, still annoyed, with Kili and whatever ridiculous idea was that of not only turning up late but fully disrespecting his authority. Was he trying to screw him over?

“Tomorrow we're doing triple the physical training, at least. And im forcing them to throw knives, they hate it” He lets Dwalin know of the punishment which is about enough for him to nod, a faint smile of pride in his face

“And Kili?” he asks quietly, his tone knowing.

“I'll take care of Kili” Dwalin’s lips twitched and his eyes went slightly wide with the tone in Fili´s voice, a very dark one that he didn't usually use when talking about him.

News about the accident spread around the council fast after that, soon enough, Fili sees himself being dragged into the throne room where Thorin already awaits for him; his arms crossed over his chest

“Tell me this is some type of misunderstanding,” he starts, his voice cold and clipped, hand flying to rub the bridge of his nose. “Tell me Kili didn’t openly defy you in front of half the troops and you did nothing to him”

Fili tenses, a flash of anger in his eyes. “Kili was out of line, but I had it handled. Dwalin showed up and forced them all to leave. What was I supposed to do?!”

“Handled?” Thorin arches an eyebrow. “You think kicking him out is handling it? And I’m glad Dwalin intervened, mahal knows what would have happened had he not. So you better fix it!”

Fili’s jaw tightens. “I’ll deal with it.”

“Will you?” Thorin leans forward slightly, his voice dropping. “Because from where I stand, it seems Kili isn’t the only one who doesn’t respect your authority.”

his fists clench at his sides. “YOU put me in this position, uncle Thorin.”

“And if you can’t even get Kee to listen,” He presses, his frustration sharpening, “then…”

“Then what?!” Fili snaps, his voice raw with anger.

“Then maybe I made the wrong choice,” he mutters under his breath, each word weighted with disappointment.

Fili exits the throne room before the conversation is over, blood rushing up to his cheeks and ears, feeling even angrier than he did coming in

Why is he getting shit when Kili was the one who acted so weird

Maybe he could fool Dwalin and Thorin, but not him. Whatever that was, it wasn't like him and it wouldn’t fly

The door to Kili´s room flings open and slams hard against the wall, the echo bouncing of the walls, followed very closely by Fili´s deliberate foot steps, his face reads nothing but unpleasantness as he slams the door shut, then flings his swords one by one on the nearby furniture, knocking over books and arrows but not stopping for any of them. Kili´s eyes roll back to his brain in disgust

“no, keep slamming and breaking everything, it's alright”

“shut up”

The brunet freezes in disbelief, turning fully to look at the older heir of Durin from his place, sitting on the bed. The bow he had been re-stringing still in his hands, the tone alone is something he had never hear Fili speak in and it's…intriguing

“stand up”

Kili´s brow raises up and a choked out laugh comes out of his mouth before he can catch it, making the older dwarf´s mouth click in annoyance

“What's with you today huh? you practicing for training or…” another laugh, this time nervous as Fili´s hand grabs the bow from Kili´s hands, yanking it away in a swift movement that forces the brunet to look up at him, losing his focus and dropping the sentence mid saying it

“I. said. Stand. Up” the command comes harsher the second time, accompanied by Fili´s hand clutching his chin, tilting it upwards like Kili can't hear him, his eyes betray pure rage.

The younger stands before he even realizes he's complying to an order, their bodies pressing against each other in the tight space between the edge of the bed and where Fili stands but he doesn't move an inch, opting for grabbing the hair at the nape of Kili’s neck with his other hand in a quick movement that startles a gasp out of him

“Why are you acting this way, Kili?

The question, simple as ever but charged with sweet concern forces Kili to look at blue eyes even if it hurts to pull his face forward, the constant rhythm change in Fili’s voice driving him insane

“I have no idea what youre talking about, Fee” He mumbles dumbly and all traces of sweetness in the captain’s voice and face goes away again.

“Listen to me you little brat” he pulls on the hair harder, bringing Kili down to his knees on the carpeted floor “We both know you're not this stupid or reckless so whatever is going on with you stops NOW. Do you hear me?”

“ow” Kili complains, his hand reaching back to try and pry Fili´s out of his hair but getting nowhere, the older takes a step forward, effectively trapping him between his crotch and the bed. Kili´s cheeks heating up immediately when he notices the bulge on his pants “what do you mean… Fee?”

“don't call me that” he presses his clothed erection to Kili´s mouth, yanking at the hair so he's forced to be stuffed right up to it, breathing in his musk, mouthing the silhouette of it unashamedly, hoping for the weight of it inside of his mouth “I should have known a little slut like you would like this…”

He sighs in fake annoyance, allowing Kili to nuzzle against the curve of his penis before yanking him back “from now on you call me sir. Is that clear?”

Kili´s unfocused eyes make the blonde roll his back before another yank, a warning that makes the brunet look up at him fully and give an answer, if it's in the form of an unceremonious nod that Fili will let slide… for now.

“I wanna make something very clear to you” he brings his unoccupied hand to his belt, loosening it as he speaks “I know you; and however dumb you wanna play, you are not this disobedient. especially not with me so I´ll let that shit you pulled at training slide this time, but if you act up again…”

He stops talking deliberately when his belt is all the way off, a smug smile appears on his face when he notices Kili´s eyes clouding over in anticipation and his urge to fight is completely gone.

“Get up. Turn around and give me your hands” this time, when the command comes, Kili is quick to comply, standing so fast his knee protests and turning away from Fili, cheeks heating up further when the older flushes his body unashamedly against his, the tips of the brunet’s fingers grazing against his penis. Fili takes no time manhandling his hands together and tying them by the wrist with his belt, pulling it tightly so he doesn't have wiggle room before suddenly pushing the top of his back, right at the middle and letting him fall face first on the bed

“oww?” Kili protests disgracefully turning his head back as far as he can to look annoyed at Fili who returns the smug smirk from before, bringing his hand up to the height of Kili’s peripheral vision. After all he is no monster, he wants the younger to know exactly what punishment he’s getting. He lets his palm fall back down on his ass with enough strength to make him yelp out in pain

“You like acting up, Kili? Another smack follows the question, harder this time. Making Kili gasp out for air but nothing coherent comes out of his mouth

“I asked you a question” and a smack in the exact same spot makes the younger write out in pain

“no?” He answers, vaguely remembering the question anyway, feeling the blood gushing up to his ears and cheeks when Fili strikes him again on the other cheek and he can't avoid letting out a moan instead of the normal response to being hit. He tries to wiggle out of Fili’s grasp but he seems to be prepared for it; grabbing him by the back of his shirt and the top of his pants, bunching them up into his fist, and effortlessly picking him up off the bed, then scooching him down closer to him. Striking him four times in a row before leaning over him, effectively pushing his erection up against Kili’s ass so he can feel him

“That’s no SIR, last time I tell you” and a sharp slap in the junction between his butt and legs that makes him want to squirm out of his grasp

“no…sir”

“Put your ass up” he whispers in his ear. Kili complies, fast and uncharacteristic, pushing his face against the bedding and bringing his ass in the air, knees wide apart and hands resting at the low of his back for Fili to grab and pull if needed “see how pretty you look obeying?”

The words take him by surprise pulling out a guttural moan at the praise alone, but he can't dwell on them for long before the blond reaches his hand to the front of his pants, unlacing them swiftly and pulling them down along with his undergarments yanking fiercely with both hands, rough and fast to expose him fully to him, the sensitive skin covered in a coat of red hand marks seems to satisfy Fili if only for a second before he continues on talking

“Do you like undermining me in front of my troops?” He gives four hard slaps, two in each cheek after the question, grabbing a handful of ass on the last one and spreading Kili apart effortlessly, blowing air into his gaping hole, expectant of what's to come

“n-no sir…” Fili shoves two fingers into Kili´s mouth, not really interested in the answer he gives as he circles and jabs his fingers inside him, pulling at the belted wrists with his other hand to keep Kili at an uncomfortable angle while finger fucking his mouth, saliva dripping down from where his tongue is being pushed down by thick calloused fingers in a continuous stream down his chin onto the bed.

Once the digits are coated enough, the older dwarf takes them out in a fast movement, removing his hand from the belt so the brunet goes back to the original position in a rough movement; he nudges his knees apart to stand between them and slaps his ass once more, harder before shoving a finger into the unprepared hole, feeling it twitch and clench around him, he starts an unforgiving pace of in and slowly dragging out. In and slow out that he KNOWS drives Kili insane

“You think it's funny to make me look like a fucking idiot huh?” the second finger makes its way into the mix, as unprepared as the first one did, sensing some pull and resistance from inside Kili but not stopping until he is knuckle deep with both of them, then delivering a hard unforgiving slap with his other hand that makes Kili yelp and clench around his fingers.

“ow! Fe…” Then a startled gasp “I meant…” another deliberate slap, this time right next to his hole makes him sob. Fili’s frame covers his own again, whispering close to his ear

“Does it seem to you like it's the time to test me?” He plunges his fingers deeper inside Kili to punctuate his point; Kili’s cock jerking as he feels the tips of the blonde’s fingers reach his prostate

“No…sir I’m so-“ another strung out moan interrupts his phrase when Fili slaps him in the ass for the last time, twisting his fingers inside him at the same time to make him shiver “I’m sorry”

“Let me ask you again. Do you think it's funny to make me look like an idiot?”

“no sir, its not”

“Good boy” he mumbles, slowing the pace of his fingers if only a little so Kili can adjust to the intrusion and actually get to enjoy it.

Fili takes his sweet time opening him up, analyzing every little sound, every involuntary hand jerk and shiver; all the caught- in-his-throat-sighs to reduce Kili to a moaning, begging puddle, hands and legs shaking constantly as he works him over with three fingers and the occasional lap of his tongue over the area.

“please…” the younger dwarf wails out, hands shaking. He needs more, needs Fili to fill him up to the brim and stuff him full of cum and make him regret every single one of his irresponsible actions

“Please what?” Fili doesn’t budge; twisting his fingers inside Kili, carefully sliding over the bundle of nerves for just enough time for him to pant out his breath desperately and then slowly taking them out, the drag of knuckles and calloused skin against his insides feels so good he thinks he might cum right there

“Fuck fee…” He pushes out in a single breath, not caring about the name title he’s supposed to call him or about the way he’s pathetically pushing himself back against Filis fingers, desperately trying to get him to go deeper, faster, to move “pleasepleaseplease fuck me”

“Uh-oh” The older mumbles sarcastically as he drags his fingers completely out; keeping them hovering tauntingly over the hole, slowly circling it with feather touches as Kili shakes under him; wanting “seems like you are not listening again, kee.”

He delivers a playful yet harsh slap to Kili’s right cheek when the brunet doesn’t answer right away, warning a frustration moan out of him as he rocks himself back and forth to get ~something ~ anything at all

“What am I going to do with you?” Two more slaps follow his phrase and he wastes no time fully removing his fingers and wiping them off in his pants; using both hands to spread Kili apart. Blowing hot air into the abused area. The bed dips with his weight as he crams himself on the space behind Kili, leaving bite marks on the skin of the younger’s hips and ass. Ignoring pleas and whispers and “ow” as he starts kissing up his legs and toward the inside of his thigh, were he stops, to leave suction marks “here I am, being nice, trying to give you a chance to redeem yourself”

He bites hard on the soft skin then laps over the area, making a wet fat trace with his tongue from the inside of his right thigh to his testicles, effectively getting Kili’s brain to short-circuit. Pushing back against the wet heat only to be forced back forward, a warning slap to his right cheek “and you have to go and act like this”

The blond takes the opportunity to bury himself deep in Kili’s ass; greedily mumbling his next fake complaint against his skin, Kili can’t understand what he’s saying all he can concentrate on is the feel of soft lips and warm tongue abusing his hole, legs shaking, his breathing comes in short gasps. It wouldn’t matter if Fili was telling him this right next to his ear with an un-busy mouth he still wouldn’t know what’s happening, brain hazy and loopy; all he can think about is more and please and his mouth makes sure to spill that out in desperate little whimpers. When he finally resurfaces from between Kili’s legs, Filis whole lower face is wet with slick and his own saliva; his beard and mustache leave delicious red scratch marks he knows kili wont appreciate later, he spits a big gulp directly into his hole, replacing tongue with fingers, going back to the torturously slow pace, with a prepared entrance it feels like nothing to the brunet who now has opted for apologizing, hoping if he says the right thing Fili will take pity on him and finally fuck him

“Pleaseplease” “I’m sosorry” “I’ll be good” “i’ll be so good” he moans against the sheets, globs of overwhelmed, overstimulated tears running freely down his cheeks; as the fingers find just the right spot to spark pleasure but not to tip him over the edge of his orgasm. “please fee”

“I want to believe you, Kee” Fili mumbles, carefully licking a stripe over Kili’s perineum and testicles, making him yelp in surprise. He laps over the area, pumping his fingers at the same time while waiting for the brunet to be able to muster up anything other than ‘fucks sake’ or ‘please fili’ or whatever promises of being nice and being early he had to say, occasionally spitting directly into the place where two of his fingers keep kili spread out, waiting for any friction, any introduction “but you just can’t seem to behave yourself”

Kili’s whimpers turn to sobs, he rubs his face on the mattress to wipe away the tears and the snot and saliva; swallowing hard, tingles going up and down his body, red and hot with both overstimulation and need.

His suffering it’s not enough to convince the older tho; who has found a new fun game inserting both his calloused, thick fingers inside of Kili; deliberately slow, completely ignoring his prostate to then scissor them just to make him squirm under him. “So this is all you get, no cumming for you until you can behave…and let me catch you masturbating cause then itll be worse. Do you hear me?”

“no please I’ll behave”

“Oh…poor baby. You wanna cum so bad don’t you Kee?”

“Please? I’ll be good”

“I’ll believe it when I see it” Fili says simply, getting up from the bed letting the younger dwarf settle into this position, tied hands still behind his back in what he imagines is a very uncomfortable contortion. Whatever. The maids will help him out if it “I asked you if you heard me”

Kili is almost tempted not to answer out of pure rage, he sobs hard letting the tears stream down his face, biting his lip hard

He wants not to answer but he does anyway

“Yes sir”

[becharm-27]

Solo & Team Missions: January 2024

Website work will be on pause tomorrow while I'm out of the house. Still, lots of updates to be made and any help would be amazing. Read more about that here

[lowpolyanimals]

Pill Bug by @roxyspamcake

[britchell]

“You Probably Won't Live Through It.”

Read it on AO3

[lowpolyanimals]

Horseshoe Crab by @ohshitseveralrats

[noirscript]

chasing the light

Pairing: Nicholas Sterling III x Reader

WARNING/S: YANDERE. Noncon. Psychological Abuse. Obsessive Behavior. Emotional Manipulation. Violence. Physical Punishment. Pregnancy Manipulation. Coercion. Forced Submission. Stalking. Chase. Intense Psychological Terror. Controlling Relationship.

Note: Full story of Descent Into Madness. From the drafts! ^^ 8k word count 🫡 but will divide it into two three parts enjoy! Tags will be added later. After all parts are posted. Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Sequel

Tip Jar | Commission

You lay rigid in his arms, your breath coming in shallow bursts as his words settled deep into your bones.

You’re not going anywhere now.

The weight of that truth pressed down on you, suffocating.

Nicholas exhaled, slow and patient, as if he could feel the way you trembled beneath him. His hand never moved from your stomach, palm warm, fingers splayed possessively over the barely-there swell. You weren’t even showing yet—had barely begun to grasp the reality yourself—but he had already claimed it.

Claimed you.

"You still don’t understand, do you?" His voice was gentle, but there was something dark beneath it. Something dangerous. "You’re mine, sweetheart. Both of you."

His thumb brushed slow, lazy circles over your skin. You hated how effortless it was—how he touched you like you already belonged to him, like he had every right.

"You ran." The words were thoughtful, absentminded, as if he was working through the pieces himself. "Twice."

You swallowed hard, unable to speak.

Nicholas shifted, pressing closer, his body heat bleeding into yours. "I should punish you for that."

A fresh wave of panic shot through you, your body tensing on instinct. His fingers flexed in response, gripping your hip, keeping you still.

"But," he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, "you need to be careful now."

Your pulse pounded in your ears.

Not a threat. A warning.

"You wouldn’t want to do anything… reckless." His hand pressed firmer against your stomach. "Would you?"

Your breath hitched.

He was smiling.

He was enjoying this.

You tried to jerk away, but the shackle around your wrist dug sharply into your skin, yanking you back. Nicholas’ grip tightened in an instant, his fingers curling against your waist as he let out a low, displeased hum.

"Still so stubborn," he mused, tilting his head. "I should break that."

The words sent ice through your veins.

"But," he continued, as if the thought was amusing, "not yet."

A slow, dragging silence stretched between you.

Then, his hand moved.

Lower.

A deliberate, agonizing descent down your stomach, fingers ghosting over the curve of your hip.

You froze, every muscle locked in place.

Nicholas chuckled, the sound soft—too soft. "Shhh, sweetheart." His touch skimmed back up, tracing the shape of your ribs. "You’ll learn."

A breathless, shaking exhale slipped from your lips.

"One way or another."

The room felt smaller with every passing second, the air thick with something oppressive—something inescapable. Your pulse pounded against the weight of Nicholas’ hand, still resting over your stomach, his grip firm yet deceptively gentle. Like a collar around your throat, a leash you couldn’t pull away from.

He knew.

And now, there was nothing left to hide.

His fingers curled slightly, pressing against your skin, as if savoring the feeling of your body beneath his touch. You could feel the satisfied hum reverberating in his chest, a sound that made your stomach twist in knots.

"You’ve been so difficult lately," he murmured, his lips brushing the crown of your head. "Running. Lying. Acting as if you had a choice."

A slow, deliberate exhale left him, warm against your temple.

"But now," he continued, fingers tracing slow, idle circles against your stomach, "you don’t."

Your throat felt too tight, like you couldn’t get enough air.

His grip shifted, splaying wider across your abdomen, possessive. "Do you even realize what this means?" His tone was almost soft, but the quiet undercurrent of dominance sent a fresh wave of fear through you.

You tried to twist away again—instinct, desperation—but Nicholas’ other hand slid up, wrapping around your throat just enough to still you. Not squeezing. Not yet. Just holding.

A warning.

"Don’t," he said simply.

The command settled over your skin like iron.

You swallowed, pulse fluttering beneath his palm, and Nicholas sighed like a man indulging a child’s tantrum.

"You never should’ve left," he murmured, thumb brushing along the hollow of your throat. "I was going to be patient, you know." A quiet chuckle, dark and knowing. "I was going to wait."

His fingers flexed.

"But you made this difficult for yourself."

A shiver wracked through you as his lips ghosted over your temple. "I wanted to give you time," he continued, as if he were confessing something intimate, something vulnerable. "Time to come to me on your own. To realize that there was no one else who could take care of you the way I do."

His grip on your throat tightened—just for a second, just enough to make you gasp.

"But now… I can’t trust you to make the right decisions."

The truth behind those words settled in your bones like a sickness.

Nicholas’ touch drifted downward again, possessive and slow, fingers skimming across your stomach. His breath fanned against your ear, voice sinking lower.

"I won’t let you make any more mistakes."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.

"You’re staying right here, sweetheart." A pause, his lips pressing just beneath your jaw. "With me."

A sharp, shuddering exhale slipped from your lips.

Nicholas only smiled.

"Don’t fight it." His hand flattened against your stomach once more, pressing firm and unyielding. "You already belong to me."

The days blurred together after that night.

Nicholas kept you close, never letting you out of his sight for long. If you weren’t in his arms, you were within reach—tethered by the invisible leash he had placed around you the moment he discovered your secret.

And now, everyone knew.

His mother had been the first to call, her excitement so palpable you could hear it through the speakerphone. “Oh, darling, why didn’t you tell me sooner? We have so much to prepare! You need maternity clothes, baby supplies—Nicholas, be a dear and bring her to the mall this weekend. We’ll get everything sorted.”

He had been reluctant at first, but she had a way of insisting that even he couldn’t refuse.

So now, you found yourself seated in the passenger seat of his car, staring blankly out the window as the city passed by in a blur. His hand rested lazily on your thigh, thumb rubbing slow, absentminded circles against your skin. A constant reminder that he knew you. That he could feel the tension in your body.

That he was waiting for you to try something.

You forced yourself to breathe evenly, fingers curling against the hem of your sweater.

You had planned this carefully.

Your excuse was simple—restroom. A normal request. Something he wouldn’t think twice about. And the moment you were out of sight, you would slip into the crowd, blend in, disappear before he could stop you.

Nicholas turned to glance at you, his sharp gaze assessing. “You’re quiet.”

“I’m just tired.” The lie came easily, your voice smooth despite the pulse hammering in your throat.

He hummed, fingers flexing slightly. “You should be taking it easy. No unnecessary stress.”

You swallowed. I know.

The mall was bustling when you arrived, filled with families, couples, people too absorbed in their own lives to notice the woman quietly planning her escape.

His mother greeted you with a warm hug, her excitement almost dizzying as she led you toward the baby section, chatting about cribs, strollers, things you couldn’t bring yourself to think about.

Nicholas stayed close, his hand never straying far from your lower back, his presence a shadow at your side.

You waited.

Bided your time.

And then—

“I need the restroom.”

Nicholas barely glanced at you, too occupied in conversation with his mother. “Go ahead. I’ll be here.”

You nodded, turning on shaky legs, moving with forced calm toward the restrooms.

Then, the second you were out of sight—you ran.

Heart pounding, you weaved through the crowd, slipping past distracted shoppers, turning sharply into an empty hallway leading to the emergency exit.

Freedom.

You could taste it.

Your hand reached for the door—

And then—

A sharp vibration.

An unmistakable chime.

Your stomach dropped.

Panic seized you as you heard it—his smartwatch. The alert echoing like a death knell through the air.

Nicholas had stopped talking mid-sentence.

The realization was immediate.

You barely had time to react before his voice rang out from somewhere behind you. Low. Unyielding.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

A choked gasp ripped from your throat as a firm grip closed around your wrist, yanking you backward. You stumbled, breath hitching as Nicholas caged you against the wall, his body pressed flush against yours.

His expression was unreadable.

But his eyes—his eyes were burning.

He lifted his wrist slightly, letting the dim glow of his smartwatch cast a cold light over your face. The screen displayed a blinking red dot.

Your tracker.

The one implanted in your arm.

"You really thought I wouldn’t notice?” His voice was dangerously soft, his hand sliding up to grip your jaw, tilting your head just enough to meet his gaze. “Did you forget what I told you, sweetheart?"

A slow, deliberate pause.

"You can’t run from me."

Your pulse thundered against his grip.

His fingers tightened.

His lips ghosted over the shell of your ear, his breath warm as he whispered—

"You’re never leaving me again."

A shudder wracked through you as Nicholas’ grip tightened, his fingers digging into your wrist like iron shackles. The emergency exit loomed behind you, so close yet completely out of reach. Your pulse pounded against his touch, a frantic drumbeat that only seemed to amuse him.

“You must be getting desperate,” he murmured, his voice a dark hum of amusement. “Running in broad daylight? In public?” His fingers flexed against your jaw, his grip firm yet unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world to teach you the lesson you clearly hadn’t learned.

He tilted his head, studying you. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice the moment you left my side?”

A harsh, shuddering breath slipped from your lips. Your free hand pressed against his chest, trying to push him away, but he didn’t budge.

Nicholas chuckled, low and knowing. “Sweetheart, you really don’t understand, do you?” His other hand lifted, the cool metal of his smartwatch grazing your skin as he traced the faint outline of the tracker buried beneath your arm. His touch was deceptively gentle, a sharp contrast to the possessiveness in his voice. “I don’t need to follow you.” He exhaled, slow and deliberate. “You belong to me already.”

Your breath hitched, panic clawing up your throat as you fought against the growing sense of dread.

“Let go,” you rasped, twisting in his grasp, but his hold only tightened.

Nicholas’ expression darkened, the amusement flickering from his eyes like a candle snuffed out. "Is that what you want?" he asked, his tone dropping to something colder. "To make a scene?"

Your stomach churned. The hallway was deserted, the noise of the mall a distant hum beyond the corridor’s walls. But if you screamed—if you fought—someone would hear.

Wouldn’t they?

Nicholas smiled as if reading your thoughts. "Go ahead." He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "Scream for help. Let’s see who comes running."

You froze.

And he knew he had you.

His hand slipped lower, pressing against the small swell of your abdomen, his touch infuriatingly gentle despite the cruel mockery in his eyes. "What do you think they’ll do when they see you like this? Hmm?" His thumb traced slow, idle circles. "A pregnant woman, being rescued from her loving fiancé?”

The word fiancé nearly made you flinch.

"Or maybe," he continued, tone softening in a way that only made the sick feeling in your stomach grow, "they’ll see a hormonal little thing having a panic attack while her partner just tries to calm her down?"

Your throat closed.

"You wouldn’t," you whispered, barely able to force the words out.

Nicholas chuckled, the sound vibrating against your skin. "Wouldn’t I?"

And then, before you could react—

A sharp tug.

Your stomach lurched as he pulled you forward, his arm locking around your waist as he all but dragged you out of the hallway. You stumbled, legs nearly giving out beneath you, but Nicholas didn’t slow. His grip was firm, unrelenting, his strength a quiet reminder of just how little power you had in this moment.

You barely had time to register your surroundings before you were back in the store, back under the warm, artificial glow of the overhead lights.

His mother turned at the sound of approaching footsteps, her face brightening. “There you are! We were just—”

She paused, her gaze flicking between you and Nicholas.

Nicholas, who still had his arm wrapped so tenderly around you.

You, who couldn’t stop the slight tremble in your frame.

For a brief, fleeting second, hope sparked in your chest.

Did she see it? Did she notice something was wrong?

Then Nicholas sighed, the sound heavy with exasperation. "She got overwhelmed,” he said smoothly, shaking his head as if you were nothing more than a silly, emotional thing. “I told her to take it easy, but she insisted on rushing around."

His mother tutted, concern flashing across her face as she reached for your hands. "Oh, sweetheart, you should’ve said something!"

You opened your mouth, but—

"It won’t happen again," Nicholas murmured, his grip on you tightening in a way that sent an unmistakable message. "Right, love?"

Your stomach twisted.

The words sat heavy on your tongue, the weight of his threat pressing against your skin.

You could say something.

You could try.

But then—his hand slid against your abdomen, a silent warning. A cruel reminder.

And suddenly, you weren’t sure if you could risk it.

So instead, you swallowed the lump in your throat, forced a weak nod, and whispered—

“…Right.”

Nicholas smiled.

And just like that, any hope of escape slipped through your fingers.

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Taglist: @hopingtoclearmedschool @violetvase @zanzie @neuvilletteswife4ever

[britchell]

Can @lazysaturdayonthebeach get the last three chapters up too? Follow @britchell to see…

Link to AO3

[lowpolyanimals]

Rat by @a-little-rough-around-the-edges

[britchell]

Congratulations on being the first official BCF submission of 2025 @filigreeing

New Fic: The Boy with the Thorn in His Side 2/2

Pairing: Britchell

Fandom: The Almight Johnsons/Being Human Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Body horror typical of the hanahaki disease trope.

One day, Anders starts coughing up flowers.

AKA: The one where Anders is a brat who would rather die than admit he caught feelings.

AKA AKA: Anders chooses the most dramatic way possible of coming out to his family.

Link to chapter 2

@britchell tagging for bcf2025 :)

[britchell]

AO3 Collection available: BCF2025

[lowpolyanimals]

Gromit by @junebug-jamboree