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--- The Ex-King’s newfound smile curled, tucked into his cheeks in an expression much like the kitten who had stolen the milk. He had, after a fashion. Pressing soft, curious kisses up the twitching calves of beloved’s form, and the artful swell of thigh above Hveðrungr’s knee. These lean, long lines, flushed, and overheated; there was no greater wonder than leaving the Raven King like this.

He could still hear the drumming of beloved’s heart. It was a proud thing, to know it was of his doing. The heavy, pleasured throbs that struggled to return to composure.

Still damp too, the splay of the smaller’s thighs, here in his journey back upwards did Haetta nuzzle amongst the mess. His own pulse skittering, exhilarated at the smearing of his face, and beard - all that was normally neat and clean - in the tacky, salty, cinnamon scented filth.

“I like you like this.”

@kingoftheravens

#amatorypursuits #v: on raven's wings #kingoftheravens #;;bodylanguage meme #asks #{SORRY THAT THIS IS WHAT I COME BACK WITH HAHA}

thejotunthunderer replied to your post: @thejotunthunderer the hubby wins tho

// Ah~ the comments I could make about climbing Mt. Storm and riding down along his d like a slide o/ Perfect sized for many things. mhmm. indeed.

//it’s proBABLY THE SIZE OF RISK’S ENTIRE LEG

#thejotunthunderer #{THERES NO LUBE IN THE WORLD TO FIT THAT}#{d e d}#{r i p}#{theres only patting it like there there}#{cant help u like this}#{not with this tree trunk}#{astvinur nO}#amatorypursuits #ooc

#amatorypursuits #;;listenings #Spotify

😲

😲 Smack my muse’s butt

“You jest.” it’s less intimidating when it’s a soup spoon, and not a spear poised carefully in the ancient’s large hand. Out of the corner of his eye, Hætta’s battle-worn peripherals caught Keir in careful pause from one room to the next, very much resembling the large human-shaped corvid he was; it was like a weird sense of deja vu, the tilt of the back of the advisor’s head looked familiar, but it could never be mistaken for humanoid.

Uncanny valley, Loki had coined that after the elder had found himself down some dark hole of the internet. Hætta, bemused and entertained that humans thought themselves the benchmark for what ‘looked right’, stoically adored the term.

The Jötunn’s gaze narrows, confused and gentle, lingering perhaps a fraction too long on the offered sight of beloved’s rear, “You wish mineself to do this … out of affection?”

This rich, coming from the creature with a mouth full of canines, and a several recent cresent scars upon his and lover’s bodies from a bizzare night that Jötunar meeting Jötunar had consumed them with something unspoken and primal and bloody. Which they still had yet to discuss.

#kingoftheravens #v: on raven's wings #amatorypursuits #;;bodylanguage meme #{OOPS}

@untamedtempest submitted: The process of waking up often a slow one, her breath softly fanning against the jeweler’s neck, tactile fingers wandering an expanse of olive skin, tracing the cuts of muscle here and there while she waited for dark lashes to flutter, a rousing sound, possibly a gruff (short-lived) complaint. And sometimes like this fine morning, the wait seems longer than her patience, and so her body slides down over his. Lips and teeth brought to a sensitive nub where they tease with light grazing before latching on.

Pushing his face into the retreating headscarf beneath his nose is half-awake and petulant for an unguarded second. A raw huff, darkly bemoaning the appeal to wake him when he had actually slept some. So sue him. The man wasn’t going to complain about his King-sized mattress, and her choice to ignore the free space around them. The heat and the strong smell of shea on everything he owned, and those long, luxurious limbs that had him monkey-wrapped in a, woman-and-her-preferred-matress, type drape, were the reason he had even slept in the first place. He liked that. The weight of her. Heavy, and real.

But the goddess giveth with one hand, and take it away with … her mouth. Her Norns. Damned. By the gods-

“Ro-” Loki’s head thunked back onto the pillow, chest arching and straining into the bites. Black gaze in the curtain-drawn room liquid and sleepy where it now focused, an unconvincing glare under half-masted lashes. One heel cocked automatically then, knee bent as if to move, but he realised in a blink the mistake of that; her soft belly and hips dropped, pressed even more intimately between his thighs.

“-tælandi.”

#untamedtempest #amatorypursuits #v: beauty's accomplice #{none of this is a real complaint and they both know it XD}#{YA GRUMP}#{M Y G O D THO RO }#{U JUST GONNA NOM THE TIDDY LIKE THAT???}#{NO WARNING JUST A NOMS}#{XDD}#{holy norns its been 400 years since ive written happytimes content XDDD}#submission

//Click the snowflake ❄ for full view darlings <3333

@thejotunthunderer - You’ve been around since the beginning of my blog and the first steps this grumpy old King took on this hellsite. I really can’t thank you enough for all the feels and memories from the last 4 years with these two, O T P. So, belatedly, very very belatedly omg, HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHRIS!! MAY ALL THE BLESSINGS BE UPON YOU!

#ooc #my art #amatorypursuits #{i mean its ~tasteful nudity}#{PLACING BETS NOW WHETHER THIS GETS FLAGGED}#{do i need to draw a goddamn censor bar XDD}#thejotunthunderer #v: Royalty of Jotunheimr #{oh my god i love this new program that came with my replacement tablet}#{I CANNOT STRESS ENOUGH HOW SMOOTH IT IS TO USE AAA}#sfw

sexual traits.

( bold are general, italics are verse dependent )

tagged by: @kingoftheravens , @thejotunthunderer tagging: Anyone ^^

INCLINATIONS/HABITS:

BODY/APPEARANCE:

SOUNDS:

TURN-ONS/KINKS:

PLACES:

#amatorypursuits #{what a belated sinday lmao}#Risk #headcanon #musings

Kiss Me

KISS MEME || CLOSED || NUMBER GENERATED: 33: a bruise

“’tis still here.”

Open-mouthed, the elder’s kiss pressed over the mottled, crimson mark of possession. Reverent. Texture beneath his tongue noted, raised edges and gaps in Thor’s markings -the slight nicks from a rougher piercing of flesh that beloved had delayed to heal. How selfish the base satisfaction was to know it was for them, so that all might know their Prince was spoken for. Taken, beyond question. As if Thor did not walk around wearing his scent. His braids. His gifts.The pressure against the wound trailed off --only to catch, bruise tortured between teeth in a soft bite. The King’s hips grinding deeper as his firm grasp below mate’s horns, a tangled mess within ivory locks, tightened, tugging left, exposing more and more skin to his attentions.“Ástvinur.”

#thejotunthunderer #v: Royalty of Jotunheimr #amatorypursuits #{wELP}