#AAAAAHHHHZHSHDJD

[madaqueue]

aventurine presses you into the wall and in your flustered state you rest your head into his neck hoping to find respite before he’s asking “how is it? do you like it” (the things that go unsaid lay heavy, the ‘do you still want me? am i still worthy?’) until you’re leaving hickeys across his throat, over his collarbones, until he’s grabbing your shoulders and pulling you close and licking your jaw and begging and begging and begging