opocorcus
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Hans gave a startled laugh, muffled into Henry’s neck. He tugged him closer by the nape, breathed the word into his jawline like a kiss.
“Insatiable.”
His free hand wandered lazily down Henry’s stomach.
Henry groaned into the pillow and pressed a kiss to Hans' temple. “Always am for you, my love,” he whispered back, voice thick with heat.
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Hans offers Henry the permission to have him whenever desire strikes.
Bookmarked by opocorcus
15 Jun 2026
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Henry opens his mouth and lets Hans press his thumb inside. Hans feels a giddy spool of desire curling in his gut, and…fine. Fuck it. Hans barrels into it. “I want to fuck you and touch you and – and see how much you can take, and how much I can give you. I want you to forget everything but me, and I don’t want you to come until I decide you can.”
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Or: Hans edges Henry and roleplays as a nobleman who knows what he's doing.
Bookmarked by opocorcus
15 Jun 2026
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By Writ and Word by Nathalaia for el_gilliath
Fandoms: Kingdom Come: Deliverance (Video Games)
21 Jan 2026
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“I wish to see him,” Hans said.
Lord Velek’s smile did not quite fade. “I fear that would be unwise. An infection set into his wounds, and the fever has only just been brought down.”
He held Hans’ gaze.
“Master Henry is, for the moment, a guest under my protection. I cannot in good conscience allow him to be disturbed while he recovers.”Henry once rescued Hans from Maleshov with sword and dagger in hand.
Hans will rescue Henry from Borovice with but a smile.
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Bookmarked by opocorcus
15 Jun 2026
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Hans is a grown man. He can take care of himself perfectly fine, could shave his own face, wash his own hose like he did when he was stuck camping outside Trosky. He’s capable just like Henry says.
But it’s not so bad, letting Henry help.
Bookmarked by opocorcus
10 Jun 2026
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Hans lies in the grass outside Devil's Den, sweltering in the sun. He's liable to go mad here, he thinks. There's too much time to dwell on things, on nightmares of Suchdol and bodies littering the courtyard. On the wound in his shoulder that will never cease to hurt him, the way he has traded a gilded cage for rickety one made from crumbling plaster and ale stained wood. He will always be trapped somehow, by his own body or by circumstance it doesn't matter. What matters is the relief he finds in the weight of Henry atop him, whispering sharp words mixed with praise into his ear. He is changing, though what he will become he does not know.
And Henry, he is changing too, into a man who can't seem to find peace. Someone who can't be a moment without a job or without a fight.
War, it seems, has altered them both.
Bookmarked by opocorcus
10 Jun 2026