#hints of intimacy

[askagentabanston3]

Everything I did was for him.

So why did it hurt when I saw him with someone else? He’s my boss.

I stared at the Doctor as he danced with a woman. It was a ball, I was in formal dress and he was just in formal clothing. All he saw me as is a pawn in a bigger game.

So why does it hurt?

Why does it always hurt?

My eyes darted away from the Doctor and the lady, pushing my feelings out of my head. I closed my eyes and everything came rushing back. The feeling of his skin on my lips that night, the night he swore to me to forget…

“Stone, I want you to never speak of this again.” He said as he stared at me. His skin was littered with marks I gave him. My markings, my bites. It looked pretty.

“Of course, sir.” I replied softly, noticing how he hadn’t gotten up to get redressed. I must’ve gone a bit hard.

This night was a memory I couldn’t forget. I never dared to bring it up to him though. He wouldn’t like it if I did…

So I guess I’ll deal with the burn.

I’ll deal with the burn for him.

[danishphoner]

this is the equivalent of high-schoolers passing notes to each other in class. except that they're cardinals in the middle of a conclave in the sistine chapel

[aventurineswife]

Aventurine with a tall female reader 🙏🏽 I need this i learned he’s a short king like somewhere between 5’5 or 5’7 and im 5’11 and im so giddy about this 😭

Eye to Eye, Heart to Heart

Summary: After a long day, Aventurine and his tall lover share a quiet evening in their home. As always, their relationship is filled with teasing banter, playful challenges, and an undeniable pull between them. Despite the height difference, Aventurine’s confidence never wavers, and he reminds his partner that no matter how tall she stands, he’ll always find a way to meet her eye to eye. What starts as a game of words turns into something far more intimate, revealing the depth of their connection beyond the risks and facades.

Tags: Aventurine x Female!Reader, Established Relationship, Height Difference (Tall Female Reader x Short King Aventurine), Playful Banter, Fluff with a Hint of Angst, Emotional Vulnerability, Subtle Power Dynamics, Kissing & Intimacy, Soft Aventurine Moments.

Warnings: Minor mentions of Aventurine’s manipulative tendencies, Brief references to his traumatic past (nothing explicit), Flirting and teasing that borders on suggestive but remains SFW.

A/N: He's 5'6 from what I know... Bro I'm the same height as him and I'm taller than the average women's height 😭🙏

The evening air felt crisp, threading through the cracks of the grand house you and Aventurine called home. Your shared space—an eclectic mix of luxury and calculated chaos—had a comfort to it that you’d come to treasure over time. The elegant furnishings, intricate designs, and soft ambient lighting all spoke to the grandeur of his world, a world of high-stakes gambles and unpredictable strategies, but here, in the stillness of the night, it was just the two of you.

You were standing by the large bay window, gazing out at the moonlit horizon, your figure towering in the reflection, contrasting with the smaller, more compact frame of Aventurine. His figure was barely a shadow against yours, the two of you perfectly in sync as you both observed the view.

"Careful," he teased, his voice rich with playful arrogance. "You might give me a crick in my neck just by standing so tall." He stood beside you, craning his neck to meet your eyes as you shot him an amused glance over your shoulder. His eyes gleamed mischievously, but there was no hiding the warmth beneath the banter.

You chuckled softly, turning your body to face him fully. "I’m not trying to tower over you, Aventurine. You know, I didn’t choose to be this tall. But I do wonder," you mused, leaning down just slightly to bring your face closer to his, "if you enjoy being around someone who can look down on you."

Aventurine’s lips curled into that trademark smile of his—the one that always made people second-guess whether he was joking or serious. "Oh, darling," he said, his voice dripping with honeyed amusement, "you don’t tower over me. You simply offer a more... elevated perspective." His words were deliberate, carefully chosen. And the way he leaned up just enough to brush against your ear sent a shiver down your spine. "Besides, I’ve always preferred being at the heart of the action, no matter the height."

You smirked, loving the way his playful facade masked the deeper layers of his personality. Aventurine—your Aventurine—was a master of strategy, never showing all his cards, and yet you were starting to get a better understanding of the hand he was playing with you.

"I’ve noticed," you replied dryly, your voice tinged with fondness. "And I’ve always wondered how you handle being so close to the ground while still standing so tall in the world of men." You tilted your head, watching him closely. You didn’t mean it as a slight, though you could tell by the glimmer of his eyes that he’d taken it as a challenge.

Aventurine took a half step back, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he surveyed you, his posture adopting a more calculated stance, yet there was a playfulness behind it. "Ah, but you forget something," he said, voice dropping an octave, laced with the familiar, charming intensity. "It’s not about height. It’s about how you stand tall. And I stand as tall as anyone, even when it seems like I’m just a little..." His gaze flicked up at you, eyes narrowing with a teasing gleam. "...shorter."

His words were a delicate jab, but there was a glint of admiration in them too. Despite the height difference, his confidence had never wavered in your presence. He was a man who had spent his life playing dangerous games, but the game he played with you was a little different—one that balanced between the thrill of risk and the deeper emotions neither of you had truly dared to explore before. You could see through his careful control, his need to guard his heart.

You raised an eyebrow, stepping closer, your gaze holding his. "You’re right about one thing," you said softly. "It’s not the height that matters. It’s what you do with it." You leaned in just enough for your lips to brush his ear, letting your words linger there. "And with you, it’s all about how you make me feel like the tallest person in the room."

His breath hitched ever so slightly, and for a moment, you saw the cracks in his perfect composure. His usual easygoing demeanor faltered, his shoulders straightening as if he were bracing for the next move in your shared game. But this time, the game had changed.

"You're dangerous, my love," he murmured, his voice low and steady. Then, with a sudden movement, his hands were on your waist, pulling you toward him with a swift yet calculated motion that surprised you. For a brief moment, he looked up at you with his trademark smile—only this time, it was laced with something deeper, something far more intimate.

He leaned in to close the gap between you, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, full of the passion that only came after a long day of carefully played strategies. You could feel his heart beating against yours, the connection undeniable, even if words had no place in this quiet, stolen moment.

When the kiss ended, Aventurine pulled back just enough to look up at you—really look at you. "No matter how tall you stand," he said softly, his fingers tracing the curve of your neck. "I will always find a way to meet you eye to eye."

And for the first time in what felt like forever, his smile didn’t just mask the strategist—the manipulator. It was real. Genuine. Because, in this moment, he wasn’t playing a game. He was simply... with you.

Aventurine had always been a master of risk and reward. But tonight, in the quiet confines of your shared space, he seemed to have found something even more thrilling than any gamble.

And you were more than willing to take that risk with him, no matter the height of the stakes.

[coirinthyurilo]

HEADCANON that when Solangelo was first dating.

They were fairly awkward with each other. Unlike Will he was kind of hesitant to touch him outside of the need to heal. (Like touching to figure out his injuries and all.) He's just touching because he wants to. Not because he has to for the sake of health.

So it feels like a boundary that he might cross.

Since he assumes Nico wouldn't like touching as he's always expressed low interest in touching. He's kind basically a few inches away from Nico but never really touched him.

Nico on the otherhand. He's silently pleading to be touched but can't out right say it because he feels too embarrassed to say it aloud.

Considering he has a reputation to hold.

But after like two weeks of dating. When hanging out in the Hades cabin, Nico decides to like fuck it and hug Will from behind.

Will is gently surprised but appreciates the hug and just falls back to lean on Nico's chest and from then on.

They don't feel awkward with touch as much. Willingly allowing themselves to go up and be close and intimate with each other by holding hands, kissing, and hugging.

Not anymore than that. But at a level of intimacy where it is appropriate for their age and it doesn't push pass boundaries.

:(

(Cause like TSATS is so intimate with the way Solangelo is written, they kiss, they hold hands, they love and they go through risks for one another, they learn to UNDERSTAND one another with no bad interions. The way Rick and Mark writes them is like a new level of intimacy that doesn't reach sexual intentions. Just two boys loving each other with all their heart because they can.)

@nicodiangeloism here's your hc :3

[amazingdeadfish]

Are their things that Lan and macaque do to fuck with eachother?

There's the classic "Lán. usually stands/sits in Macaque's blind spot to fuck with him as a strategic maneuver to toy with his disability and mindset around it, being an active and constant trigger in order get on Macaque's nerves and keep him at a perpetual state of being set off". You can't get anymore fucked up than that on a casual basis, I think.

But I guess we have to mention Macaque stealing and taking things from Lán's apartment. He stops doing it after he realises the Mayor doesn't actually care too much (they do but, not nearly as much as Macaque would have hoped). So he just settles for eating their food and reorganising their apartment in a way that suits him better. That pisses them off a bit more.

Stalking is also, something. You'd think if they were both stalkers, they'd cancel each other out somehow but, no. No. Absolutely not.

Macaque has also learned that the most optimal place to shower is in the Mayor's apartment. Did he ever shower before? Not any more frequent than a once every few months. But now he does it every other day. Why? Because his hair clogs up the Mayor's shower drain, and he's not cleaning it up (he also enjoys getting more privileges to be clingy when he is clean, but it's not like he'll admit that). He'll pin the blame on Lán, who unfortunately also technically has dark hair and so, the Mayor is unable to pin all the blame onto him.

Lán is the one with constant Wi-Fi in their residence because they actually pay their monthly bills for electricity + internet and such. They will constantly change the password because Macaque wants to exploit it. As much as they want this to cause Macaque to pled for the password at some point, they're not actually very good at making passwords. Nonetheless, Macaque is still annoyed that he has to go the extra length every few days just to connect to his Youtube (or Youtube equivalent. He can't handle the Spotify equivalent. All those ads, ridiculous) so he can listen to his white noises (he doesn't know how to download tracks).

There's more. Probably. I'm sure they'll keep inventing new ways to stress the other out for all eterntiy. It won't end with these two. I'm just afraid their level of shenanigans goes past the lengths my brain is able to even think about.

[sexvervesoul-igou]

"Sometimes, the most beautiful relationships are those silent hints. 💫 #heartbeataccelerated #sweetmoments"

[maabelasdaruth]

I want to call Solas a "solipsistic motherfucker" but I don't know if that would properly translate

Cause that man thinks he's the only real person in the whole world and is walking the Din'an shiral (path of death) despite the cost to everyone else in the world because HE KNOWS BEST

SOLIPSISTIC MOTHERFUCKER!

[ghostie-gengar]

may or may not have had this tweet in my head while designing them

[pangyham]

Some art from 5 months ago..! posted these on instagram. Haven't had the time to draw lately, but i havent really had time to do any of my hobbies in general.

pretty sure i grinded totk the week it came out and it died down as weeks passed not because of disinterest but because i've been occupied. especially since i'm in the middle of preparing for finals.. which right now is just a chunky take home essay exam

but anyway! ah zelink. some totk spoilers below:

part of me is disappointed zelda isnt playable but i knew deep down that wasn't gonna happen so i dont waste my time complaining... don't really know when tloz will deviate from its formula and make zelda a heroine instead of a damsel in distress. however part of me indulges in her absence in totk because of the zelink anecdotes in hyrule (not that. there was a lot, but i'm a little bit deranged over these two. like zelda's diary in hateno, link's hair tie) heehee. it's really hard for me to pinpoint the common trends and patterns of my favorite ships but i will always be a sucker for implicit and anecdotal romance. oh the YEARNING and sorrows and quiet intimacy. when i found out zelda was the light dragon i couldnt stop thinking about link touching his forehead with hers or lying down on her back clutching her golden mane eyes closed and yearning and apologetic and missing. etecetera. every time i think of a new situation i get chest pains. his princess and her knight. AUGH. do you know how lethal it was when i started out totk playing as link and zelda was moving RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME. THEY'RE TOGETHER. do you also know how lethal it was when we got separated and would remain separated for the rest of the game. man. havent finished the game yet but i hope for an epic cutscene of them together at some point. will probably die if(when? ;_;) that happens

zelink's relationship status is ambiguous and remains conceptual to me. not explicitly romantic, not friendship either. perhaps the most accurate label i can give them is qpr? not sure. i just enjoy these two a lot hahaha.

[senselessalchemist]

Always end up romancing the wrong character in vidya games with romance options 😔

[anotheruntitledsong]

i did like the hidden palace but (SPOILER if anyone hasn't read it?) i'm genuinely so annoyed at how Arbeely is handled like... I wish i could be sad but i'm just fucking irritated. I was overly invested in him and that's def why but i just feel like they did him dirty

[darkgifted]

arlis will absolutely melt if you play with her hair

[inhumanheresy]

Another night, strikingly cold, colder than they have yet to experience this winter, falls deeper as the hour grows later, biting st every edge of Zapolyarny Palace. Yana had lit one of the hearths before Tartaglia was able to answer her call, and now she walks with him from the entrance of the throne room towards the firelight, hand curled around his forearm, knowing he must slow his stride so as not to outpace her leisurely steps.

"Most other nations have begun their celebrations," she says with a soft smile, eyes glancing up to gaze at his profile. Snezhnaya dornet begun their own celebrations for a few more weeks yet, but she's not against a moment with her Eleventh before that time - even if she knows he would rather be with another on this evening. Most evenings, perhaps. "I have something for you, so I hope you will indulge me a bit of your time before you leave again. I will not keep you long."

As they take seats beside the fire, she recalls a few years prior, when they sat in these same seats while she gifted him the earring that still adorns his ear now.

"Schastlivogo Rozhdestva. A little early, yes, but I have a job that will keep you busy in the coming weeks, and I hope the holiday will be spent with your family." He may only have a day or two of free time at that point, and she knows how important his family is to him, so she will not keep him from them. She picks up a box from the small table between the chairs and the fire, and hands it to him. Inside, nestled within white tissue paper, is a new red scarf with the barest hint of silver woven into the threads that may just resemble flecks of snow when catching the light. This scarf is thicker than his usual one, not meant to replace it but to be used when it is especially cold, perhaps on this night as he leaves.

The chill of Her touch seeps through his coat and thick leather gloves where She tucks her arm through his, but the temperature She maintains at the moment is not so cold as to be terribly uncomfortable — not for a Snezhnayan-born, at least, and not for any like him who have spent extended time in Her presence.

Her heels click with each step, a feathering rime crackling out over rug and stone even as the two of them approach the radiating warmth of the hearth fire. Its heat does nothing to diminish the icy aura of the Archon by his side, though he himself appreciates both the comfort of the hearth as well as the delicate touch of Her hand. He finds the cushions of his chair, too, pleasantly warm when he relaxes down against it after keeping his arm steady for Her Majesty as She takes her own seat across from him first.

“Shchaslyvoho Rizdva,” he replies, dark eyes crinkling alongside his smile as he easily falls back into the dialect and accent of his home region, so often set aside by necessity when he’s in the capital city. “I’ve heard that Sumeru and Natlan celebrate the solstice in particular, and that Mondstadt keeps the midwinter celebrations going for… well, as long as they can. To hear the tale of it told, it sounds as if they retained their traditions from times before the Archons, back when Mondstadt froze nearly as cold as we do.”

Tradition in Snezhnaya tells that the Tsaritsa ascended to her throne on the coldest day of the year, not the longest. Either time is a prime excuse to both bond with family, he thinks, huddled together against the cold and dark, or to celebrate as vigorously as possible for much the same reason.

“You may keep me for as long as You wish,” he says with a touch of both mischief and affection in his face and the warmth of his voice. “I come late and stay late when it comes to family gatherings, and so must make what excuses I can to linger elsewhere for a while. I would much rather spend this time with Your Majesty than list about aimlessly.”

His own gift for Her is not ready yet, and he feels a twinge of guilt at not having it ready at hand. A silly sentiment, of course, and he knows this, guesses that She gifts him before the holiday so as not to infringe upon time with his family. Ajax smothers that immediate contrition of his in order to truly, properly appreciate the gift She presents to him.

“Oh,” he breathes as the warmth and exquisite softness of the scarf reveals itself from the first touch of his fingertips, and then as it settles against the back of his neck, gentle as a newborn snowfall and yet warm as Snezhnaya’s summer sun.

"Thank you."

Blood-on-snow, home and heartbeat, are the associations that lie against him with the downy comfort of safety amidst winter’s might. Leave it to Her Majesty to understand, to present him a gift both practical and luxurious. Hints of silver gleam in the dancing firelight as he thumbs across the fabric, appreciating the weave, the warmth, and the thoughtfulness for a long moment before slinging it overtop of the one he now wears. The bulk infringes on the wolf-fur of his collar, but oh, he is warm.

And once again, his favorite color. She remembers.

“A job?” He notes what She said belatedly, his words partly smothered by his enfolding layers of scarves. Tartaglia hooks a finger into the high-piled cowl of red fabric and yanks it down enough that he can be understood clearly. Perhaps I’ll see about going home early— But no, Sashko and Tetyanka and Tarasik will still be there, along with their families…

“Rest assured, I will spend all the time I can with them.” Every second he can manage. He’ll count every moment a blessing. “But that is for the upcoming days.”

To lift her hand and kiss it is audaciousness beyond belief for any normal person, much less any citizen of Snezhnaya, but since he was fourteen, unbridled audaciousness has been a norm for the man now named Tartaglia. His breath rimes on his lips as he lifts away from Her skin.

“I would accompany you for a while, if you wish it.”

[kaitoru]

୨୧. nanami fucking his greedy wife from behind.

doggystyle wasn’t a position you and kento frequented, it felt too raw, too unrestrained for a man who thrived on precision and control in every aspect of his life.

nanami was methodical, even in intimacy his touches calculated, his words deliberate, always ensuring you felt cherished.

but on the rare occasions when the two of you surrendered to this primal rhythm, it was like a dam breaking, unleashing a side of him that was wild, and almost overwhelming.

now, in the dim light of your bedroom, the air was thick with heat and unspoken desire, you were on your hands and knees, the mattress dipping under your weight as nanami positioned himself behind you.

the first thrust was slow, his hands gripping your hips with that trademark restraint.

but as you pushed back against him, greedy for more, something shifted.

the room filled with the sharp, rhythmic sound of skin slapping against skin, each movement louder and more desperate than the last.

“fuck,” nanami muttered under his breath, his voice low and strained, a rare crack in his composed facade.

you could feel his gaze on you, intense and focused, as you arched your back, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor.

your ass pushed back, chasing the sensation, urging him to let go.

he noticed, how could he not? your eagerness was undeniable, and it was unraveling him. “slow down,” he said, his tone sharp.

“you’re getting too greedy.” his hand came down on your ass with a firm slap, the sting making you gasp.

you glanced over your shoulder, catching the frown on his face his brows furrowed, lips pressed into a tight line, but his eyes burned with something deeper, a mix of exasperation and desire.

“what?” you teased, your voice breathless but defiant. “can’t keep up with me, kento?” his frown deepened, and he leaned forward, one hand sliding up your spine to grip the back of your neck gently but firmly.

“you know i can,” he said, his voice low and controlled, each word measured. “but you’re testing my patience. behave.” you smirked, undeterred, and pushed back against him again, harder.

the sound of your bodies colliding echoed in the room, raw and unapologetic.

nanami let out a sharp exhale, almost a growl, and delivered another slap to your ass, this one sharper, making you yelp.

“i said behave,” he repeated, but there was a tremor in his voice, a sign he was fighting to maintain control.

“make me,” you shot back, your words a challenge you knew he’d rise to.

nanami’s grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your skin as he adjusted his angle, thrusting deeper, more forcefully.

the pace quickened, the loud slaps filling the room like a drumbeat, each one driving you closer to the edge.

“shit, you’re impossible,” he muttered, his voice rougher, the stoic mask slipping as he gave in to the rhythm you’d set.

“you want it this bad? fine. take it.” his words were clipped, but the way his hands guided your movements, the way he matched your greed with his own intensity, told you he was just as lost in it as you were.

you couldn’t help but laugh, the sound breaking into a moan as he hit just the right spot. “that’s more like it,” you gasped, your fingers clutching the sheets.

“don’t hold back now, kento.” he didn’t. for every thrust you met, he pushed harder, his control fraying with each passing second.

the room was a symphony of your shared desperation your breathless moans, his low grunts, the relentless slap of skin on skin.

his hand came down again, another sharp smack to your ass, and you felt the heat bloom across your skin. “you’re going to regret pushing me,” he said, his voice a mix of warning and promise, but there was a hint of a smile in it, a rare glimpse of the warmth he reserved just for you.

“or maybe you won’t. you’re too damn stubborn.”

“then stop frowning and give me what i want,” you retorted, your voice teasing despite the strain of pleasure.

you arched further, inviting him to let go completely.

nanami’s response was a deep, rumbling chuckle, a sound that sent a shiver down your spine.

“careful what you ask for,” he said, his tone dangerously soft.

he leaned forward again, his chest brushing against your back, his lips grazing your ear as he spoke.

“you want wild? i’ll give you wild. but don’t complain when you can’t walk tomorrow.” the threat only fueled you, and you pushed back with even more fervor, meeting his thrusts with a greed that made him curse under his breath.

the room was a blur of heat and sound, your connection raw and unfiltered.

nanami’s usual restraint was gone, replaced by a ferocity that matched your own, and as the intensity built, you knew this was why these moments were so rare they were too powerful, too consuming, for either of you to handle often.

when it was over, you collapsed onto the bed, breathless and spent, nanami following suit beside you.

[angeldefect]

hey so i just flustered myself Deeply with my own fanfic. it’s over guys. wrap it up.

[amaranthinespirit]

Simon Riley who causes readers jaw to lock mid giving him head? ( or maybe an individual reaction list thingy for the tf141?) (please stay w me here)

simon riley causing reader's jaw to lock mid blowjob the image is cracking me up T-T (simon can lock my jaw any day...)

simon wasn't going easy on you. hips fucking your face with primal ferocity bordering on feral. your chin coated in saliva and pre, glistening under the low warmth of the bedroom lights.

the angry tip of his cock repeatedly slams the back of your throat, your nose brushing the trimmed hair at the base of his length. your breathing is labored, chest heaving up and down as you do your best to breath through your nose.

your scalp stings from the tight grip simon has with his hands tangled in your hair, only further pulling down on his dick while he uses your mouth. your pussy is sopping like you've sprung a leak between your thighs, throbbing and begging for a hint of stimulation.

a throbbing pain aches throughout your jaw, and, instinctively, you try to shut your mouth despite the obvious obtrusion in the way. it only serves to make the aching worse, a wince making your eyes twitch and water further.

simon is too fucking gone to notice, but three taps on his thigh makes him wilt like all blood rushed away from his previously swollen cock.

his vision clears from the haze, his tight grip on your hair becoming a soothing massage against your scalp as he looks down at you.

you're a mess—and the prettiest thing he's ever seen in his life—but his heart stops as you clutch your jaw. the guilt he feels once he realizes what happened is immense.

he grunts. "fuck, baby, y'okay?" he's profusely apologizing, cradling your face in his hands as he works to clean you up. "sorry, love. jesus, should'a been more careful, hm? fuck, yer gonna be okay."

he swipes the tears from your face with his thumb, his touch gentle as he dresses you and himself. simon isn't taking any chances as he rushes you to the nearest medical center, restraining himself from squeezing the life out of you in fear he could hurt you further.

the nurses ask you what happened when you arrived, and leave it to simon because you obviously can't speak. the stuttering, flustered mess he becomes is comical, you almost laugh—you try to, actually, but the pain makes you cry out softly.

lets just say, simon bans blowjobs for at least three to four months after that. he doesn't want to take the chance of hurting you, so actually make that all intimacy because he's scared he'll cause you pain in some other way—regardless of if its deliberate.

he's not taking his chances.