Sensual March

Remember last week when I said I was working on a pillory cuckoldry fic?

No. Hans sucked in a hiss, his mind recoiling from the notion in his horror, his need to disbelieve. His body, wretched cursed disobedient thing it was, trembling with feverish excitement, a sickening need to—Heaven save him—to witness. Henry, meanwhile, let out a strangled gasp as Bartosch’s boots scraped on the slats of wood, followed by the sound of him tugging on his belt. “We-we shouldn’t.” Shouldn’t. Not couldn’t, not even a mustn’t. No hint of don’t.

Really toeing the line of what I can get away with posting on Tumblr I think but here's some (cw mature) teasers:

“Henry,” Bartosch said now in a low, near singsong way. “I thought while you were unable to make our engagement due to… well, being tied up at the moment… that I might bring our engagement to you.”

Hans watched Henry’s eyes go wide and surprise crawl across his face into something else, almost like… desire? Then it was gone, replaced by an embarrassed flush of his cheeks.

“Bartosch, erm…” Henry’s eyes darted to Hans. “This clearly isn’t the time?” His deep blue eyes were imploring.

“Nonsense,” Bartosch said, standing and moving closer to him. He crouched again, but this time he was on the other side of Henry, his face intimately close, that same smug smile playing on his lips. “It’s a beautiful night—dark, quiet, and we have a once in a lifetime opportunity before us. We can’t pass that up.”

His dark brown eyes lifted to meet Hans’ gaze, and Hans shivered in response, his body tingling. What was Bartosch talking about? An idea lurked on the fringe of Hans’ mind, but he feared even registering it lest he somehow breathe life into the foul notion.

Then, as if he had brought it into being all the same, Bartosch plucked Henry’s chin with his fingers and pulled him into a kiss.

//

“As we were then,” Bartosch said into the agony of that silence. He began humming again, a quiet and thrumming refrain that rumbled from his chest. Then came shifting motions that only barely caught the corner of Hans’ eye and the slowly increasing volume of Henry’s breathing, blending over at last into panting. Christ’s wounds, what was Bartosch doing?

“That’s it Henry, relax…” Bartosch’s voice was so sweet, so soothing. Hans felt like he might retch. “Or we’ll be here all night. Unless you want that?”

This time it was Henry that let out a snort, a small chuckle of mirth that gave way to a groaning “ohhh…”

Pater noster, qui es in cælis, Hans tried to pray, lost the thread immediately at the grunt that came from Bartosch. He clenched his teeth, squeezed his eyes shut, and tried again, wishing for his ears to stop hearing; straining to hear all the same…

His mind stuttered on the next pleasured moan, jumped ahead—et ne nos inducas in tentationem—and through his pleading he could hear the start of slow, rhythmic slapping, and he lost all capacity for Latin or any other tongue.

~

As ever, read the rest on AO3 :)

UNICORN 🦄 Chapter 15: My Greatest Honor

Rated E | M/M/M

Hans lifted a hand from Henry’s torso just enough to circle his wrist. “You know. It’s a rare creature, quite beautiful and special. But also, considered by most to be impossible to attain. Everyone wants one, but nobody can capture it. So they’re usually just relegated to legend.” Henry gave a quiet huff as he thought about it. “Well I wouldn’t say we’ve captured him, exactly.” “No, no,” Bartosch said, chuckling softly. “I assure you, I’m here of my own free will.”

It's finally complete!!! To those who have been waiting for an update to read the last chapter, it's here!! 🤗💌

@strangelande this art is so beautiful that I'm afraid there is not gonna be a dry eye in the house!

UNICORN

written by Lady_Stephanie (me), art by @strangelande!

Ever since they were separated at the battle of Nebakov, Bartosch has been on a mission to reunite with Henry. Of all the unlikely places, he finds his man at the new tavern Henry’s brother Samuel has opened in Kolín.

However, there’s just one problem: Henry is married. To a certain blonde someone who he'd once thought unattainable.

Or, is that a problem?

(Barely squeaked this in by end of March, but here we are! The final chapter of this series and the one everything has been building toward. I hope you like it. Also! It gets a bit dark so please read CWs.)

Hans clasped his legs around his middle and slipped his arms around Bartosch’s neck, rocking gently until he hit the wooden panels and then sucking in. He dropped his head and bit hard on Bartosch’s shoulder, the pain cutting into him and spiking his heart rate dramatically. He hissed sharply and pressed his cheek into Hans’ to nudge him off. Hans rolled his head back and cast a wicked open-mouthed smile his way.

“You can deal but you can’t take, hmm?” he taunted.

“I’m not sure it does for me whatever it does for you,” he muttered in response.

“I’m not entirely sure that’s true,” Hans observed, fingers playing at the restless pulse on his neck. The hairs on his nape stood up.

//

He felt his breathing grow shallow and then Bartosch removed his arm and Hans snarled in frustration.

“Fuck, stop being a coward!”

Bartosch pulled away and his exasperated growl went just as deep. “Capon, this is ridiculous.”

Hans flipped around to face him. “What’s ridiculous is you being somehow weaker than Henry was.”

Bartosch’s eyes rolled up in disbelief and his hands went into his hair. “Jesus! Would you stop it with him?” He began to pace, his movements jerky, his voice pitched, “You want it, then you don’t, then you want him again.” Hans watched Bartosch move, feeling sullen and angry at himself.

Bartosch stopped and glared at him. “I almost, almost like you, Capon. I really do. But you look at me and you just see a way to have some facsimile of someone else, someone I am not.”

//

Hans was pulling him back to the bed and he followed, trembling as their hands raced over each other’s bodies, sweat slicked and panting as they fell back into the bed.

Now he was crawling over him and the wild wild lost creature in him was completely unbound. Hans bit his neck and he loved it, responding by licking up his chest and it was delicious, salty and bitter sweet.

Hans was combing his fingers through Bartosch’s hair and he kissed him deeply, and Bartosch felt some new kind of painful want inside it all now, thorn tangled and terrifying. He felt like he could sense the snare and he tried to pull away before he was caught.

“I don’t want to be the flesh for his ghost,” he murmured brokenly, shame and unease crawling down his spine.

written for the Sensual March Event, I am awfully late for... I had planned to participate in the full event but March turned out to be a lot busier than I had anticipated... But it's still March where I am from! ... by three minutes :) Forgive me, alas! To the task!

(Making our way through those nine hours now! And yes I wrote some poetry for y'all, I take my craft seriously. Also have fun with one of the ONLY sections of this that is SFW enough for Tumblr. Read on AO3 for the rest, haha.)

“Have you ever read a man your poetry?” he asked at last. Bartosch hummed and brushed his beard against Hans’ cheek. “As a matter of fact I have. It’s quite effective, almost as good as my brandy line.” Hans smiled. “Colour me intrigued. What would you recite to seduce me?” “Let’s see here,” Bartosch seemed to be more in his element again with that tease. He traced his fingers down Hans’ arm as he contemplated his next words. “By light of moon or candle fire, glimpses of skin ignite desire.” Kurva, he’s actually good. Hans found himself annoyed that the man’s verse was anything more than laughable, let alone… effective. His hands went down and stroked up Hans’ thigh as he spoke. “Breathe soft into my ear a croon…” Bartosch drew his lips along Hans’ neck and up to his ear, “… so wild I come undone too soon.” “Alright, enough showing off,” Hans said with more snark than intended, capturing his jaw with his fingers and kissing the smirk off his mouth.

Hans laughed. “I’ll make sure to tip generously here in such case.” He drank from his cup and then set it down, lowering his lashes. “So you’ve left me still curious why you wanted me to come out and join you for a drink tonight.” “And here I was about to inquire why you accepted my invitation.” Hans tutted. “I’m far too skilled at this game to fall for that. You have to answer my question first.” Bartosch averted his eyes, looking down instead at his hands while he pulled at his fingers and massaged his sore palm. “Alright, I’ll admit. I’ve been curious about how you and Henry got on after we parted ways that night.” Hans’ pleasant expression dropped at Henry’s name. “I’m not sure that’s any of your business.” // “My father still lives, devil take him,” Bartosch replied, frowning at his ale. “With how he drinks and the trouble he gets into with dice it’s a marvel he’s lived to such a ripe age. God has a sense of humour, I suppose. Or he’s just trying to punish me for my proclivities,” Bartosch lifted his eyes up and gave Hans a meaningful look, letting the charm slip in to his grin. The barmaid came back with a fresh pitcher and bread, setting it down between them. Bartosch watched Hans tapping on his lips with a finger as she adjusted things on the table. When he saw Bartosch watching he smiled then sucked in on his lower lip and bit, slowly letting it slide back out from his teeth, pink and shining in the flickering torchlight. “Anything else I can get ya, lads?” she asked. Bartosch swallowed, tearing his eyes away. “We’re good for now, I think,” he managed. // They had more drinks and played a few rounds of dice to get the mood back on a lighter note. Before long Bartosch found himself getting pulled in to Hans’ odd mixture of crass boyishness and sudden sharp wit. Eventually they ordered something stronger and he felt the booze start to smooth the edges out of him. He was feeling more playful now and slouched in his seat, sliding his foot up the side of Hans’ ankle and up behind his calf. Hans startled at the touch then laughed, “Watch it, you’ll upset my count. Unless that’s your plan?” Bartosch laughed. “I don’t need to resort to flirting to beat you at dice.” “You weren’t above using it to beat me at sword fighting I noticed.” He smirked. “Now that was just quid pro quo.”

[Read the content warning before proceeding with this one, kthx] (Have some fun snippets again cause this one is explicit af, l o l )

When he was done he collapsed back into the pillows, taking long breaths to steady his heart. Hans licked his lips in a satisfied manner, reaching for the wineskin and taking thirsty gulps of it. “You really don’t want me holding back, do you?” Bartosch said when he could breathe again. Hans handed over the wine. “I really do not.” Bartosch laughed, finishing it off and getting up to get some more. “I think we’re going to need some water as well in that case,” he said, going to grab a pitcher and some mugs. Hans drank deeply of the water and then set it aside. “I’m hoping you have some good plans for that oil of yours and you aren’t going to be teasing me with its presence,” he said, cocking his head to the side and lowering his eyelashes seductively. Bartosch had been wondering how to work in the question and was happy to have had Hans just answer it for him. “Mmm, I’d be delighted to show you all the things I could do to you with a little oil to help, Lord Capon,” he said with a smirk, watching how his words made Hans shiver.

//

Hans raked his nails down his side in reward and sighed into his mouth. “More,” he whispered. Bartosch felt something wild in him stirring and he pushed it back down, feeling a little lightheaded and confused. Instead he decided to just give Hans what he clearly wanted, using his hands to grab him roughly, shoving his head to the side and biting his ear, his neck, then down to his shoulder. He sank his teeth in deep enough he knew it would bruise, sucking as he did so. “You can do better than that,” Hans said, pulling his hair. Bartosch gave him another bite further down the curve of his collar bone, bringing a cry out of Hans’ lips this time. “Better.”

//

“Goddamnit you are insatiable,” Bartosch gasped, incredulous. “Come here.” He got off the bed and stood to the side, and Hans eagerly shimmied over to him. “I thought you had all these conquests,” Hans said with some snark in his voice as he moved. “Why are you acting so surprised?” “The men I’ve been with have not been so… forthright I guess,” he replied, grabbing the oil bottle again and applying some liberally. “…Even Henry?”

(This is too explicit for tumblr's delicate constitution so I'll just include a few snippets as teasers) When he hit the wall it was hard enough the thud rattled the shields hanging nearby. Hans nodded appreciatively as Bartosch pressed his body into him, mouths cutting together and the tip of his canine drawing blood. The taste of salt and iron flooded their tongues and Hans licked forward into the other man’s mouth as if to recapture it. //

“My word you’re vocal, no wonder Henry likes you.”

The words struck some sort of chord in him and Hans pulled back as if stung. “Alright fuck you,” he hissed, feeling his ears burning.

Bartosch laughed, his deep voice making it melodic. “So readily wounded is Sir Capon he can never hear a compliment.” //

“Come on then,” Hans said, trying to sound impertinent and only managing to sound needy.

Bartosch grinned and advanced on him, wrapping those burly arms around his waist and half lifting him onto the bed. Hans let him, instead taking the opportunity to twist his fingers through the man’s dark locks, feeling their softness, pulling him in for another searching kiss. He wanted the knight to bite into him again and he took the lead this time, nipping down hard with his own teeth to draw out a hiss. Bartosch shoved him up against the headboard and Hans hummed approvingly.

“Just a test of skill, Sir Hans. Though do select some armor from the shelf: I intend to do my best to leave you a few bruises to remember me by.”

“Promise?”

He rolled back on his heels and took a look at Hans. “Come again?”

The other man had his attention focused on selecting a mail shirt. As Bartosch watched he slipped it over his pourpoint and picked up a helm. He passed his hand through his hair and met his eyes finally, corner of his mouth twitching into a sly grin.

“You heard me.” Capon put on the helmet and brushed past him.

Bartosch watched his retreating back for a minute, noticing how his hips swayed as he walked.

Oh Lord, but that man was trouble.