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#aventurine angst
toorurs · 10 hours
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"i see my reflection in your eyes" - aventurine
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synopsis: aventurine loathes what he sees in the mirror. he avoids looking at his reflection, be it when looking down at champagne glasses, rain puddles or shop display windows. but how come you on the other hand look at him with such adoration? what makes him so special in your eyes, that the person that is reflected in your eyes looks nothing like aventurine but is none other than him. what do you see in him?
pairing: aventurine x reader (gn) |wordcount: 1.8k | content & warnings: established relationship, insecure!aventurine, aventurine cries a bit at the end, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, use of kakavasha once, dual pov once but only short mainly aven centered, rushed ending (you can tell when i became lazy..), half assed-ly proofread; oneshot
tags: @azullumi "i see my reflection in your eyes" hits a lot. because azul is one of the ppl. whom i look up to and kinda aspire to be. + i feel so understood and never judged by him. thank you, sending u kisses and hugs to you azul <3
a/n: also inspired by "reflections" from the neighbourhood
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“‘rine, come here! how do i look?”
aventurine readjusts his tie once again, the lush fabric is placed atop of his freshly ironed shirt, attached to the collar of the crisp button up shirt. the lavish bracelet, that shimmers like a delicate marble statue beneath the bedroom chandelier, is adorned with a dozen sapphires. his eyes dart over to your vanity which you’re sitting in front of, the mirror reflecting your face, mirroring your beautiful self. 
he gets up from the queen size bed and makes his way over to your vanity, now standing behind you as he admires you through the mirror. 
“so?” you look at him through the mirror, two pairs of eyes meeting each other. they find its way to each other just like how the sea longs for the shore and meet each other again and again.
“beautiful. beautiful as always.” he responds, he tears his eyes away from your gaze just like how the tide sweeps away. (he'll always find his way back to you.)
“yeah? sure that this isn't too much?” one of your fingers starts to fiddle with the strands of your hairs, as if you were trying to fix something. 
(aventurine is under the belief that there’s nothing about you that should be fixed, you’re already perfect - you’ll always be perfect in his eyes.) 
“mhm.” he hums.“ you look amazing, trust me. there’s nothing worth fixing.” upon hearing his words you withdraw your fingers from your head and place your hand onto the surface of the vanity again as you stare at the mirror and lock eyes with aventurine again while grinning.
the blond can only give you a sad smile in return. he’s unable to tear his eyes away from the mirror, there’s something eerie behind you - an ugly monster that is lurking behind you. 
in comparison to you, he, the monster, looks like a hideous beast. he’s loathsome to look at, datatable even - a sore to the eyes, your seraphic eyes. 
aventurine doesn't know what you see in him. 
he’s an outcast that people ignore and resent, but still, you reach out your hand to him and give him a saccharine smile. 
he's the last kid that gets chosen in a chair circle, however, you're the first one who invites him to join you. 
he’s the fallen angel that was long abandoned by the heavens and the people, nevertheless you still pray to him. 
aventurine tends to avoid looking at himself, be it when he’s walking past puddles, mirrors or shop display windows, aventurine doesn’t dare to look at them, out of fear to see himself. there are times when he has to look at himself - times when he’s forced to look at himself.  
those mornings before work, right after he brushes his teeth and spits the remaining tooth paste into the sink and looks up to wash his face and stares at himself in the bathroom mirror - he loathes what he sees. 
those times when the two of you take selfies together and he stares at his own reflection, so later on you’re able to hang the pictures up in your room - as long as it makes you happy. 
those times when you ask for his opinion on your appearance and he stands in front of your vanity - just like now. 
aventurine is convinced that he’s ugly. both on the in-and outside. there’s nothing good about him. he’s of no use other than being the ipc’s dog that is chained to their leash. he carries no value with him, he’s only worth a little - a mere thirty tanbas. he’s charming on the outside, but on the inside he’s nothing but hollow - an empty shell. 
he often gets complimented by people, they say he has fair skin, a million dollar smile, a good body. 
the fair skin they’re talking about is engraved with scars and burns. it’s tainted with scratches, tarnished in scrapes, stained with wounds that’ll never heal, no matter what. 
his million dollar smile isn't his, the white teeth that beam every time he grins took him years of perfecting and polishing, until the yellow of his teeth faded away and was good enough to satisfy the people. 
after all those years, his good body is still emaciated and malnourished, sometimes people would joke about him just being skin and bones and then brush it off by saying that it was a good thing that he was slim and toned.
the person in the mirror is called aventurine, that’s the name he received by the ipc. aventurine looks good - handsome even, better than kakavasha could ever or will ever be, after all kakavasha is a fragmentum that lies in the past, long forgotten. 
“aventurine?” 
“‘rine!” 
“kakavasha!”
after what feels like an eternity aventurine reacts, he’s caught off guard - it’s been so long since he’s heard that name. he remembers telling you that he goes as aventurine now, kakavasha is a name that ties him back to the past, a time that only he remembers, after all everyone else who he had once known was gone. he recalls that you agreed when he asked you to address him by aventurine now, but hearing his given name spill from your mouth, is a sensation, a certain bliss aventurine didn't know he could experience. 
“kakavasha, are you alright? you asked, your diligent voice brings him back to where he is - where he’s supposed to be. (with you.) 
the way his name drips off your tongue is intoxicating, a tune chanted by a siren that lures him in, into the depths of the bottomless ocean. 
(your eyes are like the wuthering waters, they’re full of yearning and longing. you wrap him tightly into the blankets of the ocean, even if he were to try to swim away, the tide would pull him back, sinking into unending abyss - you.)
“hm, yes of course.” he tilts his head to the side, grinning as he innocently tries to brush the worry in his and your voice off.  “why'd you think otherwise?” he asks you as he stares into your eyes, two pairs of eyes locked with each other, like a pair of hands that intertwine and can’t seem to let go - just like a boy that can’t let go of his past and still hangs on.
“you know that i’m always here for you right?” you look at him with such devotion as if you’d worship the ground he walks on like a religion. caress his hands so lovingly, ignoring the fact that they’re soaked in blood. kiss the cheeks that are tainted with blemishes. 
how?
the person that reflects in your eyes isn’t aventurine - it can’t be him. he doesn’t look like that, he’s not worthy looking at, he shouldn’t stand in the way of your cherubic gaze - he’s only a bother; an ugly sight to look at. your pupils dilate as they watch him with utmost love, he doesn’t deserve it. your eyes fill with love, like they would with tears, he fears that your love would spill if you were to watch him any longer. he fears that his eyes would well up and release tears, the longer he watches himself in your eyes.
how can you look at him with such adoration? 
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aventurine is a sight to behold. 
he has always been - he’ll always be. 
he’s the setting sun that welcomes the cold breeze of the night, the vibrant colors of the sunset are like his eyes - polychromatic, full of life. a blossoming flower that awakens as it gets shone upon by the sun, revealing its true beauty. 
“your life only revolves around aventurine” would be a wrong thing to say - after all aventurine is your whole word. 
you tuck one of his honey colored strands behind his ears, eyes glinting with playfulness as you stare at him. “you’re so beautiful.” a smile makes its way onto your face, earnest and sincere as you let out a small chuckle. 
“so pretty.” you hum in amusement as you twirl another lock around your index finger.
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his mouth opens but it closes again and he can only chuckle before replying. 
you never fail to take his breath away, but he doesn’t mind, there was never much to say in the first place, after all you already know everything about him.
he lets out a strained laugh. “is that so? well i’m flattered, really.” he tries to give you a reassuring smile, it’s not like it’s hard for him to do so, but it seemed like you always knew what was going on in his head. 
aventurine doesn’t know if he should fear or admire that trait of yours. 
(to have a person know how you really feel means to become vulnerable around them, for them to see your weaknesses and mistakes, he doesnt want that, of course he wants to be seen, but that can only be done when you see his failures.)
again you see right through him, the palms of your hands immediately plant themselves on his cheeks. “aventurine, you know, i love you a lot. but i despise it when you lie to me.” your voice is stern but the words are full of care. 
“it's okay if you're not sure what to say. I don't mind - i'd never mind. so i ask you to be honest with me.” you plead at him, why - why are you so irresistible. shy don’t you just give up on him, after all he's hard to love and even harder to understand.
“i don't think i can do that.” he mumbles quietly, his gaze swaying away from yours, out of fear that you’d look at him in disappointment. the doubt is clearly showing in his words but he tries to ignore it.
“see? that wasn't so hard was it?” at that he snaps his head back to your gaze, cheeks still kept in between your hands. you smile at him - why do you smile at him? “you just told me the truth, you told me that it’d be hard for you to tell me the truth.” you gently caress his cheek. 
upon that aventurine can’t help but bury his head into the crook of your neck, slightly surprising you as you stumble a bit. due to him covering his face you can’t see what expression he wears but you feel wet patches form at the crook of your neck. 
at that you can only run your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalps and drawing circles around the back of his head as you whisper into his ear. “take it slow, we have all the time in the world.”
he feels himself trembling under you and his voice breaking a bit as he murmurs the words into the crook of your neck.
“thank you.”
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okay @azullumi you're getting an additional paragraph cause yeah!! you're super cool and i took a liking to u very quickly, ure sososo fun to talk to and you def have sweetened up the past few weeks for me and also motivated to write a lot! your feedbacks, praises etc. always give me sm motivation which isnt often found on tumblr anymore nowdays so i'm really grateful that you're always here for me. i'm very very fond of you and the same goes for you, i'll always be here for you!! (ps: please take care of yourself more, you're a great student and friend but please be a bit more considerate to yourself and take more breaks and rest well!
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e/n: when i had the outline i thought this was abt to turn out so good, well guess who was wrong.. not really content but oh well... as always rbs and comments are vv appreciated!! (and will def be read)
© TOORURS 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms is not permitted.
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vivipoery · 3 days
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Baby, hurt my feelings .ᐟ
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tw: for slight mentions of cheating. Like barely.
You knew this was wrong and that you shouldn't be here yet here you are standing outside of Aventurine's door.
You didn't call, you didn't text, you know this isn't polite and that he's a taken man but in a dreamy haze you couldn't stop yourself from making the trip.
A soft knock echoed through his spacious apartment. "Coming!" Called out Aventurine's honeyed voice behind the door.
You can feel your heart starting to race, breath getting heavier just by the thought of seeing the beautiful blonde sigonian.
"Hello, sweetheart. Always a pleasure to see you." A small smile adoring his lips as he greeted you warmly. His slender fingers wrapping around your wrist and pulling you in for a hug.
Heat started spreading to your cheeks which were currently smushed against his warm and slightly exposed chest, the smell of his expensive cologne clouding all your senses. He was wearing a pair of grey pajamas unlike his usual attire which made you blush even harder.
"Sorry for coming without notice, I thought of your offer and I wanted to give you my answer since you asked me to go all in or nothing." You mumbled.
He let you go in order to look at you properly, "And? What's your answer?"
"I wanna bet on everything I have" You spoke softly
"What's your desired prize?"
"To win your heart."Eyes trained to the ground unable to meet his gaze. You felt embarrassed but you couldn't control yourself when it came to Aventurine.
"Look at me, sweetheart."
You reluctantly looked up, your eyes looking right into his violet hued ones. He leaned his head close, his face a few inches away from your own and you can feel his warm breath fanning over your face.
"You realize that I have a girlfriend, right?" Unlike the disgusted expression you were expecting from him, his eyes filled with yearning.
"Please." You whispered with a shaky voice, not trusting yourself to say another word or else you'd fuck up even more. His warm hands came up to cup your rosy cheeks.
"Please what?" The male asked with a teasing tone, pulling your face even closer.
"I-"
"Tsk, use your words. You're a big girl."
"Please, I want you to be mine."
"And what makes you think I want you?" His tone was warm with you unlike the harshness that you imagined you'd be met with.
His actions were contrasting his words when his lips ghosted over yours briefly before he leaned in to kiss you. A bunch of butterflies suddenly erupting in your stomach due to the action.
But how was he supposed to resist you when you looked this good with your hair tied up with pretty pink bows matching the pink pout of your lips. He was a weak man with an even weaker will.
Your arms instantly wrapping around his neck and pulling him down, your heart fluttering as his warm hands wrapped around your waist tightly.
This is batshit crazy but you need to do something to make him fall all in. You need Aventurine to be yours and yours only without anyone else in the picture. As simple as that.
Just as you were about to take things up a notch, an annoying voice boomed in your head causing you to wake up abruptly.
"Hey! Get up we gotta go. You're late to class again." Your roommate's exclaims filling your ears and you contemplated getting up and strangling her for this harsh slap of reality.
Truth is you knew Aventurine is out of your league and will never be yours. What you're unaware of his often you occupy his thoughts, how you're all he thinks about but as long as his girlfriend is in the picture then some things better stay buried away.
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azullumi · 27 days
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”know it’s for the better” ; aventurine
summary — memories come in waves and tonight, he’s drowning; the grief of his past haunts him and visits him in his dreams; alternatively, you comfort and assure him after his nightmare.
pairing — aventurine (w/gender-neutral reader)
warning — 2.1 QUEST SPOILERS (about his past)
tags — established relationship, angst with comfort, soft and kind of insecure aventurine, mentions of alcohol (he just drinks a glass that’s all), there’s some fluff if you squint, lots of metaphors, mentions of death, mentions of depressing and negative thoughts, all told and narrated in aventurine’s POV, i never proofread, 2.1k words ; one-shot
tagging — @toorurs !! dedicating this to you
note — this is what reading his character analysis, character essays, scene and dialogue interpretations, and his whole ass lore and dissecting each one of it does to you. day 3 of writing for him.
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“kakavasha.”
he opens his eyes to the sight of his planet: seemingly empty, barren, as nothingness continues to stretch towards the horizon. there was nothing on this land but  the stench of death and cruelty that lingers in the air—it was heavy, thick, as if the clouds were binding him down to the ground and forcing him to look at what once was. he could feel the ache in his chest, the feeling of familiarity starting to seep into gaps between his fingers, and the the lump starting to form in his throat.
he knew this place, the stones that surrounded him and the mountain that leered over him. he knew of this, was all too familiar with it—the sunken ground and disturbed dirt from when his sister knelt before him with tears in her eyes as she uttered her promise of reunion before she bid him her farewell (he’ll always carry her last words as if it was part of his existence). the memory plays in his mind all over again, the voice of his sister echoing:
“this is where we go our own way, kakavasha…”
“...this is a gift from gaiathra, and you are kakavasha, whose good fortune will bless your sister with success.”
“as long as you are alive, the blood of the avgin will never run dry. so run, kakavasha, do not be afraid, and do not look back…”
he could feel the rain starting to pour down on his form but he doesn’t run, he doesn’t move, he doesn’t seek for something that will shelter him from the cold. instead, he stands under the pouring rain with heavy shoulders and thoughts that seem to claw and scratch at him. no matter how much he tries to cover up and escape from his past, to run and run until his feet hurt, until he falls and crumbles to nothing, it will still haunt him. it chases after him; it hides in the corners of his room, behind the wallpapers, and amidst the settling dust and cobwebs, and it creeps up on tuesday mornings as he tries to revere the sun that once never shined on him. he’s always painfully reminded of the things that he has to carry—the weight of his sister who carries her parents, and who carries their parents.
“...the rain will accompany you, and the rain will bless you.”
the distant cries, screams, and roars all ring inside his ears but the sound of the rain breaking into smaller pieces as it falls to the ground that he walks on masks it all.
he feels so pathetic. the hatred that he has for himself continues to gather and manifest into his likeness to sing choruses of condemnation in the guise of shattered and broken praises that are shaped like knives, stabbing his guts and making blood spill from his lips (he doesn’t know what his mother looked like anymore yet he could remember the distinct smell and taste of iron as blood stains his skin).
“why are you all doing this…” he remembers what he answers to her sister before she walks off to her death. he remembers asking her as he covers his ears with his small hands—too weak and frail to even carry stones, much less move boulders. he remembers the pain, the confusion, the guilt of it all. he was just a small child who had too much to hold.
what even is the worth of his life? it was just merely 60 tanbas. even if he dresses himself in luxurious and expensive clothing his past self could never dream of having, it doesn’t rid of the grasp the ipc has over him; his shackles. the cold and harsh metal is not there anymore but he could still feel it tugging on his neck, he could still feel the letters burn as it engraves itself—death would have been a more merciful fate for him than being held by such cruel and dirty hands.
“kakavasha.”
aventurine opens his eyes to the sight of his ceiling. there was no empty land that is of semblance of his planet before him but instead there were the patterns, the walls, and the chandelier that hangs in the middle of it. he was in his room; the silence accompanied with the ticking sound of the clock strikes a balance between quietude and noise.
1:56, he looks at the time. it was still deep into the night—the stars cast its light into his room as it poured itself on the cold floor. there was a rustle by his side and he turned his head to look at you, peacefully sleeping in the comfort of his blankets and you mumbled something underneath your breath though he couldn’t hear it. your face scrunches for a moment before it relaxes into a soft one and he watches all of it happen; he wonders what you’re dreaming of.
unable to sleep—a heavy feeling resides in his chest ever since he woke up—, he slides himself out of the bed. slowly and silently, dare he might disturb your sleep. he slips into his slippers before walking off to the direction of his kitchen. he doesn’t even know what he’s going to do there; he’s not even thirsty nor hungry, he just follows where his feet brings him (that’s how it usually was for him, often aimless and wandering with no direction in mind, he just doesn’t where to go, where he belongs).
he’s not an alcoholic but sometimes he just seeks for the bitterness of the liquid—to replace the taste of blood on his tongue and momentarily feel what it’s like to have nothing on your shoulders; his hands are empty yet it holds so much. he pours himself a small glass, honey-coloured liquid spills into it and a few drops gets into the surface counter. he picks the glass up, swirls the liquid for a few moments and watches its motion, before he brings it to his lips and drinks it all.
the scent is harsh against his nose and the liquid burns at his throat. the taste was too bitter and he felt like spitting it all out but he didn't, he continued to swallow it until there was nothing left in his fill. he tried to think of something else, to avoid those thoughts from entering his mind: the plant there needs to be watered, that reminds me of the light bulb has to be changed, do i even have a future ahead of me?, the painting there is slightly out of place, am i even supposed to survive?, are you still in his room?
he wonders if you’re still tucked in his sheets, if you’re still sleeping in his bed, he wonders what you were dreaming of that got you mumbling and knitting your eyebrows, he wonders when you’ll walk away from him after you realize how ugly and utterly worthless he actually is.
“‘rine?” a voice calls out to him along with the light sound of approaching footsteps. as soon as you enter the kitchen, you are greeted by the sight of him: an empty glass in his hand with a newly-opened bottle of alcohol in front of him. it was currently 2 in the morning, your lover was missing from your side when you woke up but you found him drinking alone in the kitchen.
“what’s wrong, my love? are you okay?” you ask, worry following your tone as you spoke. but aventurine remains silent. he can’t tell you his thoughts, of the overwhelming despair that drags him back down to his misery, and it’s not because he doesn't want to but he can’t—it would break your heart.
(and you know his silence too well. you didn’t carve yourself inside his heart just for nothing, you didn’t consume his flesh to not know the humming of his thoughts inside his chest.)
“you know you can tell me anything, right?” you didn’t care that he’ll break your heart. you wanted all of him and that includes his hatred and anger. if it makes him feel better, break it, shatter it into pieces and you’ll keep on picking yourself up for him. even if you don’t have the ability to stop the downpour, you’ll walk with him through the rain.
after what seems to be moments of hesitation coming from him, he shuffles from his seat and approaches where you stood. and he lets himself fall and crumble for you to catch him in your embrace—he feels safe, he feels okay but the grief, misery, and guilt still tugs at his heart ever so often as it beats.
(“where do i put all of this grief?” he asked you once while you admired the stars with him. “you hold them until it turns to love.”)
you caress his back softly, a small act of comfort as you cradled him in your arms. he doesn’t put all of his weight on you but he pulls you close and buries his face on the crook of your neck, heaving out a sigh as he did; you let him, let him whisper his worries and write his thoughts on your skin.
“did you have a nightmare again?”
“…not really.” the faint smell of alcohol wafts to your nose as he speaks. “i just…”
“it’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it.”
“i’m sorry.” he says and you didn’t fail to notice the crack in his voice and the feeling of something warm and wet on your skin. you hold him closer, tighter, and you brush your hand against his hair, tangling your fingers in his soft locks.
“you have nothing to apologize for. it’s not your fault, kakavasha. nothing is ever going to be your fault.”
“it feels like it does.”
“no, no, my love… you were just a child. you did all that you can to survive and fulfill your promise.”
you start to gently sway him into the melody of your hum and he follows your form like the wind would on your hair. this continues for long until he’ll let go—you’ll hold him for as long as he wants to if it would lessen his burdens.
“i wouldn’t love you any less nor will i think of you as worthless.”
he has days likes this, days where he contemplates and thinks of everything, days where he doesn’t know what to do or what to say, days where he feels like he never changed and he’s still the same weak child who walked away from his sister instead of begging and asking her to go with him (the survivor’s guilt goes hard), days where it feels like everything is falling apart and he’s left on his own again, days where all he wants to do is to just cry in your shoulder—
“are you feeling better?” you ask him as he lifts his head from your shoulder; dry tears are left like trails of stars on his features. you cup both of his cheeks and wipe away the remnants of his misery and ache.
“mhm, a little bit.” he nods and you beckon him closer to your lips just so you could kiss his forehead before peppering his whole face.
—but there are days of warmth and sunlight. days where it all feels a little bit bearable and he can breath, days where every step he takes isn’t heavy, days where he could taste the kindness of the sun on his lips, days where he wakes up with you by his side and thinks he could have this forever, days where he could hear his mother’s lullaby that would comfort him, days where he could hear his sister’s voice telling him that she’s proud of how far he have come, days where everything feels okay and worth it.
years of these little bits of happiness—in silence, in chaos, in tranquility, in destruction—he wants a lifetime of it with you. and though kakavasha was never a greedy man, the ache, the yearning, and craving for those moments with you fills the empty spaces of his thoughts; you looked like what peaceful dreams are made of.
“i love you.” he knows that you know that already, he just thought he’d say it again.
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© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.
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verinarin · 2 months
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𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞
angst with comfort | he’s always on the winning side of things, but for you he’s willing to lose
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Aventurine never was fond of being alone, never since he met you.
Ever since you have graced his life with your warmth he can’t go back, he hated the idea of a past, present, and future without your warmth beside him. This selfish want of his transpires the most underneath the sheets, it goes far beyond his sexual need nor his primal lust.
No, this need of his is far more pure.
Sincere even, that’s saying a lot since he was never known to be sincere.
Yet he is, for you.
Only you.
He found it easier to sleep against your chest, listening to your calm heartbeat lulls him to slumber far more successfully than any other methods he used in the past. He often described your whole body as his teddy bear, the sentiment suits you perfectly since he had always wrapped his arm around your waist, holding you close as his head rested upon your chest.
So warm, so soft, so comforting.
It fills his barren heart with emotions he has always yearned for, love and adoration.
A sense of being wanted, of being loved.
He has survived by himself for years by his cunning wit and gambling his life away, yet he had stumbled upon uncharted territories with you. The feeling of comfort and security you had given him has him utterly petrified.
The thought of baring his true naked self to you terrifies him, he was never a good person, he was far from it.
You know that. You know that very well and yet here you are with fingers brushing through his blond hair, the comfort that you gave also comes with a price.
And for the first time, he’s scared to lose it, to lose you.
Unbeknownst to him, a tear has escaped from his eye. He hates it. He hates how scared he is of losing you, “Rine, are you alright ?” your soft comforting voice lingered in his ear.
“Ah I’m fine !, what makes you ask that ?,” he smiled as he tilted his head upwards, your expression paints a clear picture of worry. He does not want that.
“You’re crying,” the softness of your voice, the kindness it holds. It could render him into a crying mess, he hates it.
He hates being vulnerable, yet it’s you.
Would you leave him for this?
“Am I now ?,” he chuckled, a smirk plastered on his face. An attempt to try to mask his feelings away has never worked on you.
Yet he tries anyway.
“You are,” your hand cupped his cheeks, your thumb gently wiped away tears drops falling from his face.
He smiled, genuinely smiled as you wiped away the tears that formed from his heart. His soul.
“Perhaps I am,” he bitterly replied.
“I’m here, always here and I hope you know that,” you replied calmly, his hands reaching forward to caress your cheek, holding it gently like a precious stone.
“I’m terrified,” he muttered, his thumb resting upon your lower lip as he spoke.
“Of what ?,” you asked, you could feel his thumb tracing your lips as you spoke.
“Losing you,” he replied shortly, his lips forming a gentle smile as he watched you chuckle upon hearing his answer.
“A gambler, terrified to lose. That’s new,” you smiled, your fingers brushed his hair back to see his face, tired yet comforted.
“I don’t gamble on our relationship, feel free to use me or stab me in the back if that’s what you want,” he leaned forward, closing the gap between your face and his.
“But for you, I’m not afraid to be on the losing side,” he muttered against your lips, before pressing his own against yours to seal the deal.
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meidnightrain · 1 month
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UNDELIVERED❞ - aventurine
summary: his voicemail is full of messages, all from you, never to be heard
warnings: reader is gn, spoilers for the 2.1 penacony quest, angst, hurt/no comfort
notes: like genuinely i am not able to write for him anymore, i’m so sorry if this sucks or anything i’ve been suffering writers block for the longest time 😭
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i saw the prettiest gemstones just now, but they couldn’t match the hue of your eyes. i know people belittle you for it, but i think they’re really beautiful, like all of you. i know you’re probably busy right now. i’ll wait for you to come back before telling you about my day, and you can tell me about yours. do you want to play a few rounds before turning in? i love you.
(played)
thanks for the gift; you seriously didn’t have to. i know you only came to penacony for business, and you didn’t have to take me along either. i’ll make it up to you, i swear. how about a date once you finish work? i heard about this casino; there’s this hotshot there that you might enjoy wiping the floor with. what do you say? see you later. i love you.
(played)
i know something's off, and you’re not telling me about it. where did you go just now? you promised we wouldn’t keep secrets from each other, but you’ve been hiding something the whole time we’ve been here. i’m not angry; i just…i just want you to be open with me. is that so bad? call me back as soon as you can. i love you.
(played)
i’m sorry i yelled at you; your plan wasn’t something… i could agree with, i don’t care if ratio agrees to it. we can work this out; you don’t have to do this alone. just come back, and maybe we can find a better solution. love you.
(played)
i know that i apologized, but it’s not in the way you think it is; maybe it wasn’t even directed at our argument. not sorry, like, "oh, i pity your upbringing," but more of, "sorry for thinking that we could and sorry that we ever tried (to work)." that sounds mean. maybe it is. i could never heal you from the wounds inflicted by your past; they were always too deep to fill up. and i know i wasn’t the best person for you to choose as your second half; why did you do it? why did you pick me out of everyone else? why did you think i was deserving enough of your affection?
look, i know you don't want to talk to me right now. i wouldn't want to either. but i really want this to work out in your favor. i know that i’m being selfish by wanting you even when i can’t. is it wrong to be selfish just this once if it means you’ll live?
yell at me and throw things and scream that i’m as bad as a person like those who hurt you, perhaps even more for knowing that you were hurting and i did it anyway. i don't care. but please don't ignore me. i would rather bleed myself dry for you than be forgotten. i know that nothing i say will change the past; what's done is done. but we can change the future. i don’t want to lose you, not in a million years, in another life, or in any other universe.
we can solve this, find a better alternative, and i can leave afterwards if that’s what you really want. if you can pretend that we’re okay just for a little bit—if you can talk to me one more time—i promise i’ll leave you alone. i promise i’ll never call you again or anything. please call me back. i love you so.
(played)
it’s been seventeen system hours, where are you?
(undelivered)
you’re joking, right? a grand performance? is this just another one of your pranks? there’s no way you- *cuts off*
(undelivered)
you did it, didn’t you? was it worth it?
(undelivered)
hey, please. please come back. i’m sorry. i’ll do anything to have you by my side. don’t leave me alone. please. i can’t live with myself knowing that the last words I said to you face-to-face were “i hate you.” i don’t hate you; i could never hate you. i’d hate the whole world before i could ever do that. please pick up. i love you please.
(undelivered)
it’s pathetic for me to keep calling you over and over again, thinking you’d pick up. maybe some part of me does, or i just want to hear the sound of your voicemail. i hate you; maybe i do hate you. i hate you for leaving me behind and making me think that maybe this would all work out.
(undelivered)
do you think it would have been any different? is it cruel of me to want you when you have never wanted anything else but this? you don’t have to come back as a ghost to haunt me when i’m haunted by everything because it reminds me of you. i can see you in front of me, always protecting me, but never once doing so for yourself. i can hear your laugh—your real laugh, not one of falsehood. i used to draw stars around your scars, didn’t i? but i was the cause of them bleeding you out before you...you’re gone now.
(undelivered)
i miss you. i’m sorry for what i said, and it’s too late now anyway. i won’t be able to forget you, like you told me to. they say that the brain can’t tell whether something is real or a dream, so i’d always believe this horrid dream, even if you’re not here anymore. i think of you all the time now that you’re gone. will you think of me up there?
(undelivered)
*static before it cuts off.*
(undelivered)
i hate the phrase ‘till death do us part’ because even after death, i would still love you. i’ll always be here right where you left me, waiting for you to come home even though i know you won’t.
(undelivered)
sweet dreams. i love you, kakavasha.
(undelivered)
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© AVENTURNE 2024. DO NOT COPY, REPOST, SHARE, TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD MY WORKS ONTO ANY OTHER SITE WITHOUT MY PERMISSION
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heartlyrins · 13 days
Text
OUTLUCK THE UNLUCKY !
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˚₊‧desc— Kakavasha and his little sister has always been the polar opposite, they say he was born lucky and you were lucky to even be born.
˚₊‧TW— dark content, incest, angst, noncon, smut, manipulation, gaslighting, mental abuse, past child abuse, human trafficking mentions, past trauma, PTSD, porn with plot, baby fever, non-consensual breeding, mentions of lactation, sister wife!reader, yandere!Aventurine, 2.0 and 2.1 lore did not happen here, spoilers for Aventurine's backstory, both of them gone through some tuff stuff
˚₊‧A/N—I made a few changes to Aventurine's backstory and 2.0 w/ 2.1 lore didn't happen here. I changed up my writing style!! Do you like it? Don't read if it's not ur cup of tea hun
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Ever since you were born just a couple of years after Kakavasha—your big brother. You were disgraced, labeled as an unlucky being said by the Sigonians.
Whereas Kakavasha was born on a rainy day which was perhaps meant to be a blessing. Meanwhile, you were born on an unlucky day and just moments after your birth, your mother died.
Though as you grew up, you became attached to your big brother. A contrast to your unluckiness, his blessing outpowers your curse therefore you two were bound to be attached to the hip.
A curse you were called, but never by your siblings. They loved you dearly which includes you sister who promised you and Kakavasha the dawn one day.
But the promise were never fulfilled because your sister had died as soon as your birthday arrived. You ran away with Kakavasha.
Soon the both of you were caught and sentenced to death by the IPC— but your brother got the both of you out of that punishment, you never knew how he did it and the only thing he told you was 'not to worry.'
You fit into the lifestyle pretty quickly, everything was done by your brother. You just had to sit still and be pretty, as he said.
Soon he became the very thing that ruined yours and his life—an IPC staff, but still you couldn't shake the very feeling that you both were still just a slave, no matter how much credits you were buried in.
You were granted a house, a luxurious one, probably afforded from the IPC's money. He was doing everything for you, even though you wanted to help him at least a little bit.
You wanted to alleviate his burden. But seeing the very thing that burdens yourself—you don't think that you could help.
So you did the only thing that you could manage, become a housewife for him. At mornings he would wrap his arms around your waist and sometimes you felt like a real marriage couple.
He gives you kisses on your cheek as he stares at the wound you received from chopping up the vegetables— again.
Sometimes he would bring your fingers up to his lips just to lick them clean just to see your embarrassed expression.
Which brings you to the present situation.
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"Kakavasha—I.." you were cut off with a groan from him as he hides his face in your neck.
"Don't call me that, I go by Aventurine now with other people, remember?" his breath hits your soft skin before he snakes his hands under your blouse.
"We're not in front of other people now.. And it's not like I get to meet anyone else.." you mumble—far too late to take back your words.
He gives you an 'mm' before gripping your sides harder that it was sure to leave a bruise. From his reaction, you were sure he wasn't pleased with your words.
"You don't need anyone else but me, you know that right?" he mutters before helping you to put down the knife you were holding to chop the vegetables.
"I know that.. But I haven't gone out ever since we've gotten this house.. And that was a few years back."
"But I do let you out. To buy groceries."
"Kakavasha—you know that's not what I meant. I want to go out freely, without you sending those IPC guards after me or tracking me.. Or even—!"
"[name]." the tone in his voice makes you stop, you know that's when he's fed up with your words. He pulls his hands out of your blouse before staring at you.
He grabs the sharp and brandished knife before gripping your chin with his free hand to make you face the knife, you could see your reflection.
"Look at yourself." he grips your chin tighter, "Do you see your face? It's full with scars that results in whenever I'm not there—remember, you're the unlucky child who needs me as a lucky charm to protect yourself."
"You need me." he drops the knife on the cutting board before kissing your lips and biting your lips until it bled.
He sighs as his demeanor starts appearing right back and he smiles on again with the same, sly smile.
"Don't speak of this again." he warns you before kissing your cheek and walks away like nothing happened at all.
He waits by the door as he tries to fix his tie, horribly messing it up once again before you came to the rescue and does it for him.
"I'm going now," he says as he puts on his shoes, "I'm going to be late today, don't wait for me." he merely says before placing a kiss right on your forehead.
Once he leaves the house, everything seems dark. Sometimes it seems like that you were the epitome of darkness—and he was the light that shines on your life.
Whenever he isn't there, parts of you disappear.
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"Big brother, we can't leave our sister behind!" the small you sobbed when he pulled on your wrist to drag you forcefully from the chaos.
"Sister sacrificed her life for us, we have to run,[name]. I promised sister I won't let anything happen to you." he stops for a moment as he looks right into your teary eyes.
You stared back at the chaos happening behind you, that day—everything was red like the clothes you wore on that exact day.
You were dragged once again to keep moving forward by Kakavasha, but once you stared right ahead—the little hand dragging you were gone.
The only light within your life was gone, where did he go? What are you gonna do? What would you do without the light that guides you—you thought as you broke down in sobs until your body felt a warmth wrapping around you.
You can hear your name from the distance being called once again, it's Kakavasha. You were sure it was as you open your eyes to come back to the real world.
"[name], wake up. You had a dream." your brother— the grown up version of him was her once again and you sigh in relief.
You hate that dream—it was the same dream with different endings. One that would have a happy outcome.
"Did you have that dream again?" he asks and wraps his arm around you, it was the same warmth in that dream.
You hum as he sighs once again, in a pitiful way or somehow a sympathetic one. Eitherway, his hand snakes just above your waistband and sticks his hand in your panties.
"Mmn—" you groaned and look at the time, "Stop it, I'm not in the mood.." you retaliate, sometimes he would back off at times like this—especially during your vulnerable moment.
"I saw a baby today at my workplace, one of my co-worker's no doubt. They looked so happy, can't we have one too?"
"I—you know we can't have that. We're siblings, what would the world says?" you push his arm off that's groping one of your boobs.
"I don't care what people says about us, I don't even care how the Aeons view us." he moans as he humps your ass.
"Stop it, 'm not in the mood right now.." You whimper and attempts to get away from his obvious dick imprint humping you.
He stayed silent and kept a tight grip on your hips, sliding your shorts and panties off with his other hand.
"We're not supposed to be doing this.." you mutter and almost retch as he forces his fingers in your mouth.
"Just be good for me, little sister. Haven't I done enough for you? I need this." he says, not giving you a chance to respond as he's already pulling his fingers out of your mouth and already sneaking between your thighs.
"You say things as if you aren't wet right now.." he spreads your lips apart to admire your pussy before giving a testing lick and moans at the taste.
He wraps his lips around your little nub as he sucks on it, thrusting his fingers inside whilst licking your slit up and down.
Your first reflex was trying to push his head off—moaning and struggling to push him off so you laid off the fight and just accepted it after awhile.
"Pussy's so wet, stop lying and just tell me that you wanted this." he pills away and sighs as he finishes his meal, your juices slipping down his chin.
He licks his lips and pushes his cock inside you, not even giving you a warning or time to wait. He groans as he pushes in all at once.
"So good, mhm. You're so good to me, lil sis. Gonna make you a fucking mommy! yeah, you want that?" he slaps your face almost gently to wake you up from your trance before groping your tits.
He leans down and sucks on it, appreciating the size of it while he sloppily thrusts his big cock inside of you.
"Fuck, fuck.. Can't wait to see these tits swell with milk." he moans and looks at your face, you seemed so out of it.
He can't miss the way that your lips scream the words trailing along, "I'm coming! I'm coming!" in an almost high pitched tone.
When you clench around him, he doesn't even stop for a moment. Just going at a faster pace which makes you even more out of it as you hold onto whatever you can.
And when he cums— he pulls out and shoves it back in all at once making you squeal and raise your hips as you came once again.
"We're gonna do this for at least another three times, I need to make sure you're knocked up." he groans as he felt you clench.
As he thrusts deeply once more, you can feel a part of yourself disappears. The warmth you felt from him was no more, instead what you felt was pleasure—accompanied by a sense of sadness.
You can feel tears hitting your cheek and you look up to see your big brother crying, while also trying to maintain a stable composure.
"I don't want to lose you." he sobs out as you reach for his cheek to caress the soft flesh. He leans into your soft touch with reluctance, so hesitant to show a moment of vulnerablity to everyone except for you.
"I can't lose you, please don't leave me as everyone did. You're not— you're not the source of anyone's misery, I didn't believe it when you were called unlucky. Because to me— you're the very thing that made me so happy, I want to be with you forever. I don't care if everyone else leave me."
You smile—not because you find this situation comforting, because it was so incredibly hysterical that he depended on you as much as you depended on him.
Once he's faced with your smile, he loses his composure and spills his seed in your womb while hiding his face in your neck again.
"I don't care how many nightmares I have from that night, I don't care if everyone blames you for our parent's death. All I want to be is with you."
That's when you realize, he is stuck with you just as you were stuck with him.
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narumi-gens · 26 days
Text
dreams aventurine x f!reader
18+ minors/blank/ageless blogs dni, 2.1 spoilers, pregnancy/parenthood
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aventurine has never thought of himself as a man who dreams of the future, not beyond a certain point. but there's something about you that makes him doubt himself.
because when he looks at you, when he's near you, when he's inside you, he can't help himself. he thinks about what would happen if he didn't pull out and cum across your ass, your tits, or your stomach, painting your skin in white spurts like he usually does. he thinks about what would happen if he buried himself deep enough for you to feel him in your throat and spilled himself inside of you for once.
what if he didn't climb off of you as soon as he caught his breath. he thinks about what it would be like if he instead stayed there even as he softened, cradled between your thighs, while your arms wrapped around his trembling form to hold him close, your fingers gently running through his sweaty strands, your touch alone doing more to calm his mind than an orgasm ever could.
there are times when he allows himself to imagine beyond even that, but only in his weakest moments when he decides to spend the night, always under the pretense of the late hour, or the bad weather, or how comfortable the bed he bought you is. it's a pretense that you see through, but never challenge him on as you know that doing so would make him leave.
it's only once he's sure that you're deep asleep and he can turn his unguarded gaze to your features in the dark that he dares to let his mind wander beyond the bounds he normally sets. he imagines your stomach swelling as the months pass, of your hand grabbing his to press his palm to your belly to feel the fluttering of new life from within.
he imagines a small bundle pressed to your bare chest, skin-to-skin. you're crying, but so is the newly born infant that you hold so dear. so is he. sometimes, the sunlight shines through the windows of the hospital room, and other times the rain is deafening against the glass.
likewise, sometimes when the baby in your arms opens their eyes to take in the world for the first time, their color mirrors yours. but more often than not, it's his own pink and blue irises looking back at him, promising a life of good luck.
he imagines the feeling of a small palm pressed flat against his own much bigger one, as a young, tiny voice stumbles over the words he tries to guide them through.
he pictures the smile on your face, both adoring and soft, as you watch with tear-filled eyes as he teaches your child the blessing of their people.
as long as you are alive, the blood of the avgin will never run dry.
no matter how many years have passed since he was taken from sigonia in chains, he'll never forget his sister's final words to him. but when he looks at you, when he's near you, when he's inside you, they feel like more than just a memory.
it feels like she's speaking to him across the years, to him now, trying to guide him towards this single future with you instead of any of the infinite other futures he bets everything on.
maybe, if he chose to listen to her, there could be another avgin for gaiathra to bless. maybe, if he ever chose to give in to his weakness, to your warmth, to your softness, to your love, the avgin wouldn't have to live and die with him.
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mysacredmuse · 2 months
Note
Heyy, could i perhaps request some hc's with aventurine and nightmares? Seeing how his past was so rough, i can only imagine he has nightmares frequently, and i wonder what he would do if his s/o caught him having one. I also sometimes think; would he perhaps not initiate living together because of his nightmares, not wanting to show his fragility? Thank you, i love your writing!
yes, of course!! I would love to write this for you :) I definitely agree and as someone who also has nightmares almost every night, this was interesting to write :) as for not living together, quite possible. I definitely also feel like he would have some trouble and shame to let his partner witness such a "weak" or an "embarrassing" moment of his vulnerability :/ and thank you so much !! I am so glad to hear that, you are very kind :) <3
alexa play class of 2013 by mitski (or any mitski song tbh)
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aventurine & nightmares, mentions of slight panic attack, written with gender neutral reader in mind, angst & fluff, spoilers (?)
dividers by @/cafekitsune :)
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his nightmares used to be much more frequent before he met you. Now, he has them occasionally, but they are intense nonetheless. At first, he doesn't tell you about them in fear of looking weak or stupid for being still affected by everything regardless of gaining so much with you and on a personal level. Which is also why when he spends the night over, he makes sure for you to fall asleep first and he doesn't get much sleep himself, worried about possible nightmare occurring
eventually, as the topic of living together gets brought up, he is quite hesitant to make a move about it. You don't take it to heart, but he becomes even more worried that you might think it's something he doesn't desire, so he opens up slightly to you. He explains that he has nightmares from time to time that can be a bit hard to deal with and he doesn't want you to feel pressured into comforting him or responsible to take care of him in such moments
truth to be told, you knew and expected such thing. The way he lived was a life worse than a slave, stealing the light in his eyes for a good time before he looked at you. You reassure him that it would never be an issue and that the two of you are in this together, nor he could ever be perceived as weak by you in any shape or form which gives him some peace
so, the two of you finally move in together, enjoying all the things that couples usually do as they arrange their living space. The comfort and excitement of buying new things, decorating the space to fit both of your tastes really pushes back his fears and nightmares...for a while, that is
the first couple of times are a bit less intense nightmares, mostly accompanied by him twitching and shaking in his sleep from which he wakes up fairly quickly afterwards. Those usually don't wake you up, so he just leaves to get some fresh air, trying to contain himself and calm down in order to be able to sleep a bit more peacefully. Usually, he cuddles up closely behind you after those, the warmth and closeness of your body providing enough comfort for him to fall asleep again
however, the first time that a more intense nightmare occurs - it wakes you up. He mumbles and talks in his sleep, a bit louder as his body becomes quite shaky and tense. You can't quite catch everything, but you can make out that he talks about his mom, asking where is she, talking about an older sister - each question bringing more panic into his body. He finally wakes up with a chain of sharp gasps as his hand wraps around his throat, the nightmare reminding him of the heavy chains that once used to mark his neck
he gasps for air, fingers tracing to his tattoo as his eyes become wide in the aftermath of panic. You slowly settle next to him, gently making him aware of your presence as you try not to startle him. He turns his head, eyes glistening with light tears as he meets your gaze filled with worry. He swallows, turning away from you as a weak voice apologizes for waking you up
"You should go back to sleep..it's nothing, really." he whispers weakly, clearing his throat as his shaky hand remains on his neck, slightly picking on the tattoo.
You pause for a moment, trying to collect your thoughts as you speak carefully.
"You have nothing to be ashamed of. I do not pity you if that's what you worry about. Of course that I feel sad that you have to go through this, but I do not pity you or deem you as weak." you tenderly reassure, hand falling on his bare back, trying to provide more comfort.
"I did say that we are going to handle this together and I meant it." you whisper, slightly leaning towards him.
he finds some comfort and peace in your words. He just nods, teary eyes finally gazing at you as his head falls onto your chest. First couple of times are like this as you try not to overstep the boundary or make him feel forced to talk about anything. Some nights are harder than the others as the nightmares are more violent such as the hot metal marking his neck forever, leaving him to sob on your lap. Some nights you prepare the tea for him to help him fall asleep more easily and he usually asks you to play with his hair until he does so
every time after that, he begins opening up more. He tells you about the nightmares and when the specific event happened. A lot of his memories are hazy, but talking to you allows him to also remember some good times, regardless of the heavy pain coating those moments. He talks to you about his mother and father, his sisters and brothers, friends and people he remembers. The pain will never go away completely, but talking about his experiences to you helps him greatly. Especially because he gets to speak about his family and get a sense of honouring them while doing so, feeling a bit more like a normal person during those times and making his own head a bit more nicer place to be at, all while he receives endless support and reassurance from you :)
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khuzena · 24 days
Text
Not just a stone
Aventurine x f! reader
Summary: love, isn't that such a wonderful dream? Despite this, make sure to not get stuck in it. To be stuck in a dream is to abandon reality, yet this dream is all he has.
 Cw. Angst, smut, creampie ig, no comfort bc that's boring
A/n: wrote this under an hour and it's not proofread so 🤷
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“All or nothing.”
For most of his life, he's always been just Aventurine. A polished gem, capable of handling anything you dish out to him. Whether it be a heavy workload or cruel treatment from others; his luck seems to never run out.
So when you came around, it was different. 
The way you gently took his hand in yours, your feather like kisses that tainted his forehead— he wanted to run. 
“I love you”, a soft moan escaped your lips as you arched your back from the harsh bending he put you through. 
He wants to see you break, to make you stop this madness; the madness being you treating him like an actual person, not the stoneheart or eccentric gambler. 
But he can't. 
For the first time in his life, he starts thrusting slowly, gently, making sure you're handled with care, as if you're porcelain. 
He leans down to bite on your neck, a part of him wanting to claim you. He's never owned anything that was truly his, that never left him. So when you stare at him with a gaze full of lust— is when he realised he could have something for himself. 
‘pap’, ‘pap’, ‘pap’, sweat trickled down his forehead as his digits snaked to your spent clit, the stimulation sending you over to the edge, is it so selfish to have you, is it so selfish to want you as his own? 
Aventurine does a pretty good job of pushing people away, no one ever had good intentions with his heart. 
For a man who never shuts up, the words are stuck in his throat— are they tears? No, no, he spent enough tears on the day of his capture of his old Master. So why? 
“I'm close—fuck…”, you sigh between gritted teeth, Aventurine lifted your legs onto his shoulders to hit that spongy spot deeper. It's too much. 
Only your wanton moans were heard in his usually empty apartment room. He'd take you out usually in fancy hotels, drowning you in riches till you forget how to breathe, making sure you're taken care of. He's silent. 
Your hole melted around his shaft, it felt utterly lewd on how he shaped your walls to the size of his cock, he can't bear to lose anyone anymore. 
As selfish, as shameless as it seems, he grinds his hips faster into yours, the palm of his hand squeezing your tit harshly as he wants— no he needs to destroy you. 
“Oh— fuck!”, a wave of pleasure washes over you, enough to drown out your senses and any other thoughts in your mind.
Despite this, he continues to move. 
His eyes blown out as he desperately chases his high, fuck. Was it really selfish to just taint every part of you as his so no one would ever dare take you away? 
Tears well up his eyes, not because you feel good, but because of how damn good you are at breaking him with that stupidly lovesick stare of yours.
 He needs to paint your walls white, to litter your skin with enough marks— inflict enough pain on you to make sure he's truly yours.  
The bed shook with his harsh thrusting, was he really making love to you or was he just trying to destroy you enough to be sure he can call you his? He doesn't know, he thinks it's the latter. 
With one more thrust, he never wants to leave this dream. Your eyes rolling to the back of your hand, those gentle hands who cup his cheeks to comfort him now harshly gripping on the sheets, the way you clench down on his cock like a vice— he feels wanted. 
Even if it's just your body that wants him, it's enough.
But you always give more than what you should. 
He smirks when he sees you writhing under him desperately, he's painted your walls white he's happy that he's destroyed you for any other man you'll ever meet again.
No matter how fucked out you are, you still had it in you to pull him towards you, to land a sweet kiss that he swears was just a dream. 
Why can't you just stop looking at him that way? 
“I love you,” again, a whisper so quiet yet it's all he could hear. He bites his lip in anxiety, “Stop saying that.”
“Why?”, why exactly? 
“Just stop,” none of you moved. It felt good being inside you, just plugging your used cunt to keep his cum in there. 
“I don't care, I love you”
He wants to scream, shout, and be angry with you. An aventurine stone is durable enough to withstand being worn in jewellery; it is relatively hard, so it should not break or crack easily. 
But when you're under him, every second, it's like he's about to crack, so close to breaking.
He's being so out of character, he thinks. 
He chewed his lip, the sight of you making him feel nauseous. You're as gentle as the sun, so why stick to him, why burn him until there's no more of him left? 
Do you take pleasure in this madness? Will you leave him just like everyone else? He thinks you're a mind reader, because how else would you know what he's thinking?
“I'm not going anywhere”, you give his arm a reassuring squeeze but it's not enough, “Stop, stop lying to me—”, “I'm not.”
Droplets of tears taint your skin, it burns more than any other hickey or scar he could ever give you, “Why would I lie to you?”
Time and time again, no matter how many times he tries to break you, to own you, it's always you who wins. He might ruin you for any other man, but you'll crush him like selenite under a hydraulic press. 
He can break your body, he can hurt and use you but he'll always be on the losing end because it would mean losing you. 
Again, you find a way to break him with a few words, “I love you.”
It's not a promise, it's your truth.
Like the pathetic man he is, he cries. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“I don't want to hurt you”, but you are. You are giving him something to own, not just your body, your love and soul. And for everything he can own, it's something he can lose. 
“Don't do this,” he starts moving again, maybe it'll be enough to drown out his tears with pleasure. 
Fuck— he flipped you over, then brutally jutting his hips into yours. He doesn't want to see your face, it's the last thing he needs to see. “A-aven…”
It feels good enough, good enough to forget the nonsense you kept spouting out earlier. 
“Shut up, just shut up.” He's far from gentle, he needs to break you, he'll succeed this time. 
He fucks into you with vigor, eyes trained on the bouncing of your ass, the pad of his palm slapping it brutally, leaving a fading red on the supple skin. 
“Why do you do this to me?” his voice raspy as his throat burned from tears, from your kindness, “Do you really want to see me break?”
You stay silent, letting him destroy your body, letting him slap each and every crevice, every nook and cranny of your body; because he needs it. 
You try to ignore the tears that dripped on your back, his aggressive grab on your waist. He cries. 
His voice going hoarse, his egocentric behaviour no more, “Answer me!” 
You lowered your head as he destroyed your cunt from the back, why can't he just stop this? Both of you are breaking. 
The more he tries to break you, he kills himself. 
“Please,” his ministrations slowing for a moment to let you think, you cannot ignore his pleas. 
Out of common courtesy in a conversation to reply, “It's not my fault you are.”
Ah.
“I hate you—,” “Aventurine, stop.” 
Your walls clamp down on his length, he goes faster, pulling your hair. At this point, he's trying to kill you, not just break you.
“Shut up, please…” he begs again. 
‘pap’, ‘pap’, ‘pap’, you oblige and don't say a word. One more, one more. You can't see his face but his breaths got heavier, you know he's crying too. 
Like a frenzied man, he goes faster until you can no longer take. He wants you to leave him so he doesn't have to lose you the way he's lost every other thing he's loved. 
Cum spurted on the bedsheets, a trademark for your stupid little affair. 
He pulls out, no longer wanting to be close to you, “Don't go,” are you out of your mind? No matter how many times he tries to push you away, you keep pulling him towards you.
“I can't promise that.” he gives in. 
“You don't have to, just stay.”
“I have to go.”
“Please.”
Just this once, it's okay to indulge in you. 
He stares at you with half-lidded eyes, desperate for validation. You stare back into his, with empty ones. Without a second thought, you hugged him, he knows you're all just a fleeting dream. 
He shudders against your touch when you leave familiar kisses on his neck, dangerously close to the barcode of ownership of IPC on him. He can't bring himself to tell you to stop. 
For all his life, he was Aventurine first, never Kakavasha. Tonight, he is not an Aventurine. Not the stoneheart, not the IPC's ornament. He is yours.
Enough time passed that you fell asleep, he draped the comforter on your used body. He can't bring himself to give you a final goodbye kiss. 
He closes the door quietly, knowing there won't be a next time. 
A voice rings in his ears, “Did you enjoy your dream? If so, leave a 5 star review!”
He sighs to himself, exiting the dreamscape.
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Note: it's kinda meh since it was just a spur of the moment kinda fic and i forgot how to write good smut since its been a while 💀. I hope its okay.
Written by @khuzena. Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. ♡ 
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cherieiu · 18 days
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; SAID, "I WANT US,"
sypn. everything can be offered a second chance, even a broken man. pairing. aventurine x gn!reader tags. hurt/bit of comfort!!, vvvv choppy and icky!!, they're on a call if it wasn't v specific, uhh second chance at love ig?, aventurine learns how to recycle!!/j, reference is from cant love you anymore!!, reblogs are vvv appreciated!!!
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"where are you?" your voice, despite its harmless nature, echoes the acrid grief that lovingly embraces you — a suffocating grip of false love, born from irredeemable ashes —, scratchy from wasted heartfelt tears.
the nauseating silence nurtures itself overbearing, forcing him to choke out unthought words. "where are you?" he swallows thickly. his grip on the cellphone tightens, anxiety settling into the crevices of his mind.
"i'm at home," worry follows your tone, thick with unraveling emotion.
momentary silence fills the air until he cuts through, uncertainty laced on his voice." i'm in a taxi," the rehearsed words pool your mess of thoughts and gleefully crumples your fragile hope — he's a shamelessly beautiful liar. he refrains himself from saying more, bitter words stuck in his throat.
(you've always known yet persisted in your position. a fox who eyes the grapes in vain and deems it sour without reason.)
"are you almost home?"
"i'm sorry," the tangible silence aches. he knows he's guilty — he can't bring himself to honour the ugly truth — , his apologies bear meaningless and repetitive. (he misses the sweet relish of forgiveness on his lips, your glossy lips pressing sticky kisses on his skin that he proudly wore like a peacock with its charming feathers, the shared mornings of sluggish cuddles and hiding from the sun.)
a rainbow after the rain, a flower that bloomed in the cold, you. you who taught him darkness could shine, and tears could become a myriad of falling stars. you too, in this lens, look breathtaking (you've always been.)
deft hands gingerly brush away his tears, reflected starry in the luminescent limelight.
"there's no need to hide your sorrow behind a smiling face," your honeyed voice sings him songs blossoming of cherished hope and unsaid dreams of solace, "all the stars will twinkle upon you." can peacocks and songbirds belong together?
"if tears can shine in the darkness, why can't you?" you take his hand in yours - warm, soothing summer rain midst the drying sun.
the stars seem to fondly embrace you, his hands clumsily crumple and tug the hem of your shirt; yearning for you to see once him in the same light as he does. aventurine knows he's hopelessly fallen — he'd cross countless seas of stardust to hear your voice that calls him through the darkness —, for the light that guided him was you.
that day, you've never shone so brightly.
"for what?"
he wants to hear the light in your voice once more, the melody that accompanied your every step; even if it was for one last time.
"just, for everything."
"i'll come back soon," he breathed out — a final gamble, "please, wait for me."
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cherieiu 2024 © plagiarizing, feeding to ai, translating and reposting is prohibited.
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tragedy-of-commons · 14 days
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aventurine x gn!reader | wc: ~1k
He needs to go before he decides that he needs to stay.
tags/warnings: cute domesticity, but since it's aven it has to be a little angsty, skin drawing/inking, mentioned topaz
notes: standalone but i'm thinking of expanding on this universe in the future :3c sdfsdfsdf not happy with how it turned out but fuck it
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The ballpoint tip of your pen glides over his hand, leaving another trail of red in its wake.
Aventurine watches with rapt attention. The intricate patterns of swirling ink that you insist on marking him with definitely make it harder to color-match an outfit - but he indulges the habit anyway. Perhaps it’s the artificially sweet aroma that’s typical of such cheap writing utensils; he’s now accustomed to the smell of chemically-grown raspberries while you use him as your canvas.
It’s tolerable, seeing you poke out your tongue in concentration while doodling with no rhyme or reason. Some strokes are thick and jagged, wrapping around the myriad of thinner ones to create a picture he can’t discern. 
(However, when you usually finish, you beam in satisfaction. He doesn’t peg you as the abstract type, but he wonders what you see that he can’t.)
His phone vibrates twice in his free hand. The new messages that grace the screen are of no surprise:
Topaz The booking’s confirmed. I handled it and was able to score us better rooms ✨
Topaz Cruor V is too cold to skimp out on the suites with thermal heaters. Now if you could just be on time for once, that’d make my job a LOT easier.
You hum, sage. “Time to go?”
Aventurine makes a show of examining your handiwork after you pull away from him. “Unfortunately, the IPC’s gains take precedence. Although, I could argue that dedicating my time to the arts is much more valuable in the long run.”
“Hah,” you snap the cap back onto the pen. “If you argue much longer, you could make somebody mad. Don’t let my silly doodles keep you, okay?”
There’s a sad smile on your face, and though it doesn’t deter him from leaving right now, he knows that he’ll count each star separating you from him while he sleeps alone on business. He’ll do so with his gloves off, fingers tracing over the faded curves and dips of red - theorizing how many rainstorms it would take to wash you from his person completely.
He finds himself hoping that he’ll never reach a consensus. Aventurine really hasn’t gotten any better at fooling the wide-eyed child clawing at his insides. 
“Yes. That Topaz is probably wishing unspeakable curses upon me right about now,” he lilts, the beginning of the end on the horizon. “See me off?”
“Don’t make it sound so grim,” you complain, “I’m just gonna miss you. You’ll be back on the 24th, right?”
You say it so casually. If he had any less restraint (or any more courage), he would let out a breathy laugh and then chase it with a kiss to your lips. In the past, honey-trapping had come natural to him when he was on assignment; wrapping an arm around the ambassador of an indebted planet, using the bells and whistles of his disposition to make friends with the right people.
You’re not any of that. You’re not any of that, and he knows. It would be pathetic if you knew how much sway you hold over him - how much sway that this pantomime of a relationship holds over him.
Though the scales are forever tipped in his favor, Aventurine finds that it’s woefully unfair. You appear as nonplussed as him; wordlessly letting him into your home at any hour, always cooking for two, and always decorating his skin with that accursed red pen. 
If that makes you cruel, he cannot begin to imagine what it makes him.
“Keen memory,” he brings himself to stand, “Wonder what changed.”
“My memory is fine, thank you very much.”
He cocks an eyebrow.
You flip him off. “Forgetting a few deadlines isn’t substantial evidence!”
Aventurine chuckles, ambling over to the table by the door. On it rests his gloves, which he pulls over his hands. If the ink stains the fabric inside, no one will be able to tell. “Then I’ll make sure to amass a comprehensive portfolio of ‘evidence’ while I’m gone.”
He’s already dressed and presentable for this assignment. In truth, he could have spared Topaz the headache of his tardiness, but what’s the job of Director without a little challenge? He’s sure it will count towards her experience and character, and you get to scribble on him without the constraint of time.
You pad over, embracing him tentatively. Aventurine dithers between pulling you closer and pushing you away, before he settles on doing nothing. His heart isn’t racing, but it feels too small and too big and too full of you. 
“That better be a promise,” you murmur.
(He smells raspberries. He can’t decide if it’s therapeutic or noxious.)
If he were a more selfless person, maybe he’d tell you that promises never go over well for him - that you shouldn’t bother with any of this. After all, ruling a gambler’s heart only serves to turn you into a bargaining chip.
But Aventurine basks in your warmth anyway, letting his shoulders droop. “If you’re so hung up about it, then why not?” 
His phone buzzes somewhere again, and he’s cold as you pull away. “Perfect. Good luck on your.. uh, thing! Tell Numby I said hi.”
“What is it with you and that animal?” he heaves a martyred (fond) sigh. 
You huff. “Warp trotters are cool, Aven!”
“Not when they mercilessly chew up your clothes.” 
Your demands for more information fall on deaf ears, because it really has become time to go. Interastral travel is bothersome, but not so much anymore - meaning that if he’s not at least an hour early, he’s inconceivably behind schedule. His own reasoning tastes acrid.
That note of something has been with Aventurine ever since he woke by your side, searching your sleeping expression aimlessly. He’d chased the feeling with coffee in one of your stupid mugs, a conversation about your too-bright dreams, and letting you scrawl all over him when he desperately needs to go.
He’s ferried past the door, another farewell echoing behind him before he starts walking. The idle images that plague his mind are of stained gloves, the interior of your bedroom, and the calendar in your kitchen with the date of his return circled in red.
You wave to him from the window as he turns the corner. 
He wagers he'll be back on the 24th. 
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taglist: @hanyi-writes, @karagatan02, @aphrodict, @nomazee
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toorurs · 21 days
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wish you were sober
synopsis: in which you drunkenly confess to aventurine and he doesn’t believe you, rather believing that he’s not worthy, less even deserving of your love. despite that, his insecurity, you're under the belief that aventurine deserves all the love in the world. love - something that you want to introduce to him and show him “what it means to love you.”
pairing: aventurine x reader | wordcount: 2.3k (i’ve gone insane) | content & warnings: hurt/comfort, alcohol; they're both drunk, insecure aventurine, unestablished relationship, they label themself as friends but reader barely knows anything abt him LMFAO, dual pov, DO YALL GET THE REFERENCE IN THE SYNOPSIS LMFAO??, rushed ending icl, half assed-ly proofread; oneshot
a/n: yesterday i listened to wish you were sober by conan gray and was like “damn.. this’d fit sunday” but then i asked azul what he thinks cause i couldn’t decide between su**day and <aventurine3. and they replied with that it’d be so much more angsty with aventurine (okay not quote on quote but you get the msg) and i dislike su**ay anyway!! so boom! (y’all are still getting another sunday fic..yay..ig.....)
tags: beloved @azullumi <3 and @cherieiu (stop punching me)
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“i love you.” 
your confession doesn't come over as surprising for aventurine, he anticipated it. just like how the ebb awaits the flood, yearning for it but disappearing as soon as it arrives. missing out on each other for just a split second, as the other party sweeps and slips away from the grasp of the other. nevertheless aventurine is glued to his seat on the rich sofa. 
colorful poker chips are splattered around the rich mahogany floor tiles, bottles of vodka and wine, some already with their cork removed and empty, others who haven't even been opened yet. a chandelier adorning the ceiling of the big room, its lightbulbs glowing dimly in the caliginous room, illuminating it.
one of the lamps flickers while the others continue to shine brightly - too brightly aventurine thinks, if he were to watch them any longer he’d feel like melting. the closer he got to you the sun, the deeper he'd fall into the bottomless pit he managed to crawl out of.
the room reeks of alcohol. is the temperature rising? he feels like every time the last number on the digital clock changes the warmer it gets. his blond bangs stick to his forehead and beads of sweat are running down his flushed cheeks - that answers his question.
it’s hot - humid even. he's not sure if he's able to bear the heat in this narrow atmosphere any longer. he tries to blow the sweat away by waving at his face with his hand, trying to cool off his face - a futile attempt. god, what's this a/c even good for, if it can't do it's damn job.
he opens his mouth with the intent of wanting to say that you're lying, that you shouldn't say stuff like that when you're drunk and that you'll regret later. but he doesn't, he refrains from doing so. instead he gulps down the words immediately, letter for letter. they're a bitter pillow to swallow. flowing down his throat like the wavering water running down a stream - intoxicating, similar to the alcoholic liquid you've downed.
the blond looks at you through half lidded eyes. you lift yourself off the ground, he takes notice that you have a hard time doing so, legs slightly trembling as you remove them from the floor tiles. (you've always been a lightweight he thinks)
as you make your way over to him, standing up and wanting to sit yourself next to him on the large black leather sofa. you clumsily bump against one of the almost empty shot glasses that still lies on the floor. tripping over the small glass as your foot comes in contact with it. the glass that still contained some of the red wine you've poured in, not too long ago, tumbles as easily as a domino tile, falling upon the smallest touch. making the flimsy piece immediately meet the ground.
it breaks into a few sharp shards and the remaining alcohol starts seeping out of it, staining your once white socks with crimson colored alcohol. “ah m’sorry!” you mumble as you quickly bend down to gingerly pick up the fragments, placing them in the palm of your hand carefully, so that they won't cut you and leave slits.
aventurine takes another peek at you as you tidy up. your face is flushed, your cheeks tinted in a bright red and you let out incoherent sorrys, blabbering incomplete phrases. he wants to tell you that it's alright. that he feels the same and reciprocates yours feelings, that you don't have to apologize and he'll help you.
but he freezes.
the words that he wants to tell you, the ones he's been longing to say don't leave his mouth. neither does he move. instead he coughs, continuing to watch you while you clean up. a tissue has found its way into your right hand, helping you soak up the alcohol. (its his hand that should be intertwined with yours, not the tissue)
his throat hurts. 
(he's not in the right mindspace to acknowledge if it's because of you - the unsaid words that he didn't reveal to you yet or because of the alcohol.) 
it's dry and lacks any kind of refreshing liquid that'd quench the drought that occurs in his throat. he contemplates, thinking about the choices he has. swallowing down his own spit isn't worth it, it makes his throat burn even more.
he comes to the decision to pour himself another glass of alcohol. (debatably his worst decision until now.)
twirling the almost translucent liquid in his glass, before fully gulping it down in one go. a bit of the alcohol escapes the depths of his mouth, running down his chin and messily staining his porcelain-like skin. 
he doesn't like the bitter taste, he can't seem to befriend himself with it. (neither can he befriend him with himself) although it's not the worst, he's just not able to find a reason to like it. after all, after a single sip it starts to sting as it enters his mouth.
the scent isn't great either, it smells strong, too strong for his liking, a scent that reeks of cleaning detergent and not to mention, it prickles on his tongue and burns as it slides down his throat when it makes its way into his blood. but there's one thing aventurine can't deny: it's efficiency.
it fulfills its purpose well making him lightheaded and dizzy, to the point of forgetting everything.
all sounds are drowned out. even the lame pop songs playlist you turned on because you insisted that “it'll set the right mood” is barely audible for him now. his ears hurt hellish, he wants to put his hands over his ears to escape the white noise. the sound that plays in his ears is similar to the one of when an airplane starts boarding - an unpleasant noise.
the only sound that remains for aventurine’s slightly drunk state is your voice. it echoes through his ears. your drunk confession playing over and over in his mind like a broken record, anticipating the day it'll be fixed, so the misery it is in ceases. 
his sloppy and sluggish movements - the way his hands tremble as he pours himself another glass, the nervousness that forms inside his body and the blush that spreads as quickly as a wildfire on his cheeks - they're tormenting him, and he blames none other than the alcohol for it. 
“a drunk mind speaks a sober heart, drunk words are sober thoughts, when you're drunk you reveal your true desires” his ass. the both of you are just friends. friends that are acquainted through work, nothing more, nothing less. aventurine couldn't bear to lose his only friend, after all he's already lost everything.
(anything he'd never want to lose will eventually be lost. it is as if fate had decided that everything that is worth wanting, everything that he wants to have and keep, will be lost the moment he gets his fingers on it. to aventurine there’s nothing worth pursuing at the cost of prolonging a life that is full of anguish.)
his father whom he never got to meet, his mother and sister whom he was forced to leave behind and kakavasha, his younger self. all will be lost - everything was lost. if he wasn't careful now, one slip up on the thin ice or feet accidentally trampling over the floor full of eggshells, he'd not only lose himself in the process, but you too. his one and only friend.
crossing this line he set for himself, as he drew it along the earthy ground with his calloused fingers, trembling as they traced over the mud.
walking past the border that was created to keep everything and everyone distant from him, as he stood on the other side turning his back from the world, walking away and waving, to bid his goodbye from them.
the wall he built around him to shield him from the world, protecting everyone from the ugly thing that was kept inside , protecting himself from the people that only want to torment him.
forgetting all of these things, leaving them behind for you would mean showing you who he really was. a frail human being that hides himself behind a mask. the theater curtains revealing the person who played the role of the man who had called himself aventurine for the past years. placing him in the spotlight and giving the audience a show they'll never forget, like the fool he is. 
aventurine doesn't think that he is loveable, that he's undeserving of love - your love.
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you think that aventurine deserves all the love in the world. providing him with said love, embracing him and showing him how pure love can be. 
the blond caught your eye right away. he was charming, funny and handsome. aventurine turned into your little work crush, your motivation to convince yourself just to see him.
the road was rocky and full of obstacles, set up by none other than aventurine. it gave you a better perception of who he really was and it intrigued you even more. why does he hide himself away from the world? why does he convince himself to not get anyone close to him even though he longs for the touch of another person? who is aventurine, really?
you can't answer any of these questions and neither are you certain if aventurine really can but that doesn't stop you. you continue to climb up all the way to know who he is, who the person you fell in love with really is. 
love, is weird isn't it? it comes in all different shapes and forms.
if someone were to ask you why you like him, you wouldn't know how to answer, because neither do you know.
but nevertheless you still like him. why? how come you like someone that you don't even know, someone that is foreign to you, almost like a stranger. even though the both of you label yourself as “friends.”
you're not sure what the color is that infuses his irises, he keeps them hidden beneath his glasses. despite that, you long to stare into his eyes and let all the plain and dull parts of your life get painted in the same colors of his hues. a color that brings you comfort and cures your sorrow. it's the hues that you want to stare at as you tuck a golden strand of hair behind his ear, in return he grants you a small but genuine smile.
a smile that you want to see more often, one that you want to keep for yourself. 
as for his scent, every person has their own unique and special scent. you plead to the gods above that he’ll let you bury your head into the crook of his neck and absorb his smell so it becomes the only scent that lingers around your nose. 
there are so many more things that you want to know about him but you're unaware of. one might say that you're odd for liking - no, loving someone that you barely know.
a stranger, a foreign person whom you know little about to almost nothing about, is the person that you love. absurd isn't it? but love is weird, love can be pure and ridiculous, but it can also be painful and heart wrenching. love is a feeling that not only brings joy to oneself but also causes pain. but it's a feeling that you never want to get rid of - not until you introduced aventurine to it. showing him what love has to offer and has in store.
in the iridescent light aventurine remains to look as ethereal as ever. a scent of vodka lingers around aventurines figure, the smell is strong, but you couldn't care less. his hair is disheveled but nevertheless continues to shine in the dazzling light. he lets out a tiring yawn and you couldn't imagine aventurine any more beautiful than in this moment.
vulnerable and for your eyes only. making it unable for you to tear your gaze away from the sight before you. 
he's like a shooting star, if you don't continue to watch and follow it and blink, even if it's just for a single moment - it's all over and you'll never see it again. 
“stop looking at me like that.” aventurine mumbles quietly, almost whispering. upon hearing that, you make your way over to him, glass shards long forgotten as you place them on the small coffee table in front of the sofa.
your arms reach out to aventurine, clutching your hands on his shoulders. your grip is sluggish but you don't falter and continue to hold him. “like what?” your lips are slightly parted and your gaze is drowsy as you counter aventurine's question with a question of your own.
“like that.” he placed the hand that just rested on his thigh, on your cheek, slightly caressing it. “you're just gonna hurt the both of us if you keep this up any longer.” he's not sure where the boldness came from, he blames it on the alcohol once again; it finally seemed to kick in.  
“‘m not lying” you hiccup. tomorrow i’ll tell you how much i love you, no matter if it's once” a cough exits your throat “or a hundred times.” the words that leave your mouth are slurred, they're incoherent and muddled up. your grip on his shoulder weakens, hands slipping off and head falling against his chest.
..did you seriously just black out?
aventurine can only sigh at that. a small smile finds its way onto his face. he snakes his arms around you waist, snuggling his face into the crook of your neck and hugging you with the remaining power he had left before falling asleep. guess there'll be a lot to unpack tomorrow but for now he allows himself to indulge in this shared moment between the two of you. 
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e/n: hope yall enjoyed this as much as i hated writing this!! (i wanted to throw up) i acc hate how i wrote this. it's not as choppy as when i started writing it but it still feels so rushed and so idk.. anyway reblogs with comments are very much appreciated! >< ALSO that one paragraph written in brackets..guess whose speech it was inspired byyyyy (hint: bsd!!)
© TOORURS 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms is not permitted.
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mitsvriii · 22 days
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five things
↳ ❝ [aventurine x reader] ¡! ❞ 『 ↳✧・slight angst, hurt to comfort, 2.1 spoilers for everytime aventurine, possibly ooc, not proofread !!; word count: 1,2k+  ↳ mention of trauma so interact with some caution!! end notes for more!-༉‧₊˚✧
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Aventurine hated his body. The way it was often molded like starchy dough to fit the needs of others, whether it was to be a perfect fit for when he was sold off, a killer to survive, or even when he, himself reached out with flimsy hands to make himself appear above everyone else when seated at a table to gamble away. But oh, was he always so, so scared whenever he had to act as anyone but himself, afraid that the dough that covered his body would bake into a form that he couldn’t break out of. 
His ‘peaceful’ nights of rest were only filled with worries of his numerous personas as if they were the grains of sand that filled the hourglass of his mind. Waking up in terror as he searched for you in bed, scrambling to clutch onto you with breaths of panic as your words broke the glass, letting the sand spill out from his mind.Tainted with touches from his past, marked with stains of greedy men and devious women. If each touch left a mark of paint, then his entire body would be akin to a canvas that was decorated in a messy fixture. Even the warmth of your embrace barely did any help to wipe away the stains of pigments.
You loved his smile. You had invited him to read a book that you recently ordered online, and at the sight of your excited face to have a reading partner he caved and gave you a smile so heartfelt that you swear your heart quite literally fluttered like a butterfly’s wings.
It wasn’t often that you made him smile, nonetheless, laugh with your, albeit poor attempts, at making jokes. Whenever you did, however, the laugh that rattled throughout his lungs was so melodic that it could’ve been compared to a lullaby. It was so sweet that you often paused your reading to just admire him in his scarce, carefree state. A forearm over his eyes, positioned so you could barely see the crinkle of his eyes and the slight show of dimples that were an outcome of the pokes that his lips made. 
Aventurine hated the mark that made its home on his neck, a reminder of the fact that he was always going to be a pawn in someone’s chess game; easily sacrificed yet oh, so hard to get back once lost. He often sought to cover it up whenever he was home with you, whether it be with scarfs for trips to cold planets or sweaters that nearly choked him with their necks, he opted to cover up the hideous brand that only brought back disgusting memories. 
You didn’t seem to mind it, going as far as to even kiss it when nuzzled up together. The urge to retch whenever you treated it as if it were just an ordinary accessory instead of something that was a reminder of the part of himself that had done so many horrible actions. Although he knew you understood that it was what he had to do at the time, he couldn’t care less. When he couldn’t even stand to try and make a move to cover it up himself, you often wrapped it up for him, making sure not to latch the piece of cloth too tight upon his neck so he could breathe.
You loved the little things he did out of pure habit. He doesn’t even realize half of them but you do. The way he fiddles with his fingers, brushing his thumb against his middle and ring to where he snaps accidentally. Whenever he cooks he plays music and dances to himself when he does, bobbing his head and moving his shoulders. While he did so, a hand was held out by him as an invitation to join him. You never once turned down the offer.
Cuddling with you was something that Aventurine enjoyed. He buries his face in your neck or side depending on the position that the two of you are in and, despite how whiney he may get, enjoys when you play with his hair as it gives you both something to focus on. Always flushes, albeit slightly, whenever you pepper kisses on his face as if your lips are dabbing actual blush onto his cheeks. Catching you off guard, he likes to get you back by giving your face a boatload of kisses, causing you to giggle and call out his name playfully in the midst of it all. 
Aventurine hated the way he was distant with you. So close yet so far from fully being able to have a ‘good’ relationship with you. Some nights he slept beside you and others he spent awake pondering or resting on the sofa within the other room. It took him months to even be comfortable enough to let you kiss him, nonetheless to cook his meals and rest with him in the same bed. Aventurine knew that some relationships were slow, but not slow enough that a tortoise could make more progress in a race than he could in a relationship. 
Thoughts of if you could be happier with someone else ventured into his mind whenever he sulked in the dead of night when you were asleep. He knew you wouldn’t, though, as he had already captured your heart as his own. Frequently, doubt of if he should even be allowed to love someone such as you was the cause of most of his worries, though he would never say it aloud; mostly afraid of the reaction that you would have of his self-doubt. 
You loved him. You loved the way he treated you like porcelain whenever you were upset, the way he always tried to laugh at some of the things you had found funny to not make you feel awkward, how he remembered your favorites even though you might’ve only brought them up once. He was distant some of the time, sure, but he always made up for it. Your relationship wasn't the stereotypical one of two happy partners, yet you were happy with it. 
Aventurine grasped and held onto your affection no matter how much he lacked to return it to you, and that was okay with you. Aventurine dealt with guilt numerous times and that was okay with you, you would always be there to console him. Aventurine rarely could rest and it kept you up most nights but that was okay, he had trauma, it was a natural response. You loved him no matter how much he cried on you, no matter how much he distanced himself after a bad day, or no matter how little he would eat because he couldn’t stomach the food. At the end of the day, he loved you as much as you loved him, and that was all that mattered.
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also for the differences between what he hates and you love, it’s the little things versus the big things. for example; take lust vs love in mind with the comparisons. he pays attention to his body yet you opt for his smile. he despises the mark on his neck for ruining it and bringing back memories but you only notice the little fidgets and habits that he has.
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st4rrth0ughts · 18 days
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instead of sending flowers, come back to me.
aventurine x gn! reader ♣️🎲
tw, cw, timelines: death mentions, Aventurine suffering, 2.1 spoilers, Aven's backstory spoilers, reader's fate is somewhat murky, reader is implied to have been a close personnel of Aven, reader and Aven have known each other for around 5 years, takes place after 2.1
Summary: he's never lost a gamble, but you've changed that.
a/n: divider by @cafekitsune
a/n 2: song inspiration taken from Send me no flowers by Doris Day
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Flowers neatly placed on a shelf, impressively enough, all thriving. Peonies, lilies, tulips, and many more. All accumulated from months of your trip to Herta's Space Station that you've sent to Aventurine as an apology for leaving for a while.
He'd been reluctant to let you go, but he didn't want to hold you back from doing what you wanted to do. Afterall, you did tell him that you'd be back in around 3 months. Longer than he wanted, but he'll wait.
He should have stopped you. Should have begged you to stay.
When the news reached his ears, he was in his office, sorting through paperwork. The moment the words of the space station being attacked even fell from the IPC worker's mouth, he'd shot up from his seat, and stormed into Diamond's office.
The fact that the man had simply pushed a transparent plastic pocket containing that matching earring he had insisted to get for you years back enraged him further. Those people at the space station couldn't even have the courtesy to put it in a damn box.
The second the door to his office shuts, he slumps against it, his hand clasping the plastic pocket so tightly the pin was digging through the layer and into his hand. The pain does little to ease or distract him from the emptiness in his heart. Crimson blood trickles down his palm, small droplets staining the pristine carpet.
He wants to cry. He wants to throw something into the wall and hear it smash into bits, and watch its broken pieces fall onto the floor, matching how his heart felt like it was crumbling into ash. But he cant find it in himself to. Not because he doesn't want to mourn you, but because he cant find the tears in his whole being to even shed. It just makes him hurt more.
Dull eyes stare at the most recent bouquet of roses, from 2 days ago. Still fresh, sweet smelling. 2 days. You'd been alive and well 2 days ago, and to think that the last gift he'd ever receive from you was a bouquet of roses made his heart sink further.
It's been years since he'd felt like this. Since the Katicans killed his parents, his sister and his homeland's people, since he'd been shackled, branded and had all human rights stripped from him. This feeling of helplessness, emptiness, and the heavy yet lingering sorrow that made his chest clench and burn, like someone was twisting a searing hot blade, lodging it deep into his body.
5 years ago, he'd made a gamble with himself. He'd let himself get close to you, just this once. You'd be the first person he would trust after his youth. He was confident in this bet. Afterall, he always was the final victor, no?
But every gambler has their losses.
You were his.
(note): guys i love aventurine i swear on my life
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cherrylovelycherry · 11 days
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fairy of shampoo
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pairing. aventurine x gn!reader cw/genre. angst, mutual longing but are too dumb to understand it, slighty suggestive, mentions of sex, confused thoughts and feelings, insecurity. mdni synopsis. he starts to feel love for you, you start to feel love for him, but when it comes to admitting it, things don't quite work out. masterlist!
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Aventurine plops down beside you, pulling on the blanket to cover the both of you and catch his breath. It's just another one of those nights where he can relieve himself from the piling work and relax.
His eyes flick to the side, watching the person beside him sleeps peacefully. The fact that you would let your guard down in front of someone like him is amusing to him.
He averts his gaze away, grabbing his phone and checking how many messages he got after leaving work for a few hours.
"Well... seems I have to be off now, doll. Sleep well." Aventurine leans down to kiss you on the temple, before standing up to wear his clothes and gather his belongings.
Aventurine doesn't want to admit this, but he's starting to feel like… this isn't like his average flings anymore, usually he doesn't even care enough to cover them with blankets or kiss them goodnight. Plus… he's starting to fear that this fleeting moments will end.
He sighs gently, looking back to see if you was still sound asleep, which seems like the case with the even breathing and body movements. With that in mind, he slowly exits the room, shutting the door behind him quietly.
He takes a deep breath, feeling that familiar sense of relief wash over him as he exits the apartment. It feels like... a great burden has been lifted off his shoulders.
That's when he realises the mistake he made tonight: he forgot to leave one of his rings behind.
At least there he'd have an excuse to see you and not necessarily how you two always look.
The next day, he tried to think less about how your touch made him feel different.
Aventurine takes out his phone again, this time checking which of his adventures might take a call.
He pulls out his phone again, checking which one of his flings would be able to entertain a call.
But for some reason… he finds himself staring at your name.
"Damn, its been stuck in my head since then. Was it the sex? Probably not…" Aventurine stops his thought process right there.
Then he continued checking his phone, patiently waiting for another woman's response to confirm a date. It was supposed to be something to calm him down, but for some reason it doesn't work anymore.
But he can't do it.
Aventurine stops on your name, staring at your contact information for a good minute or two. Then he puts his phone back in his pocket, deciding not to meet anyone tonight.
Despite his thought process, he still can't help but think about you for the rest of the day.
Or at least that lasted 3 day.
At 7 pm on a Saturday, He finally receives a reply from a certain woman that he's been seeing quite casually these days.
"I'm free to go out if you want, handsome~"
She always ends her messages this way. It's almost comical how she is.
Aventurine chuckles a bit to himself, replying, "Alright, fine. Let me pick you up this afternoon."
With that, he's back to his usual self. The casual dates, the occasional sex, the meaningless conversations and the superficial jokes—everything that seems to make him feel in control again.
He feels… comfortable, for the first few hours, at least. That familiar sense of calmness washes over him again.
The dinner goes well, the woman is quite entertaining. She makes him laugh and he makes her laugh, they joke around and enjoy the meal that he ordered for them.
And after a few more drinks, they end up in a hotel room.
Sharing rough and somewhat needy kisses.
Sharing rough and somewhat needy kisses, touching and exploring each other's bodies, all for a few minutes or maybe an hour even.
Aventurine is enjoying the moment even if it's just a casual thing. He's in control again, that's what matters.
That's when there's a soft vibration from his phone. He glances at it, and sees that you messaged him. He tried to unlock his phone, but the strange feeling was wanting to appear in his stomach again, so he simply threw the phone on the hotel nightstand.
He had sex with the girl, nothing new.
Before encounters with you became almost routine, he normally wouldn't describe his encounters with other women.
This time he was able to describe what it was like; sour.
Nothing compared to you; something sweet.
He stares at the ceiling, feeling even more confused now. He feels his heart skip a beat again, making him feel guilty since he has a woman in his bed right now.
He tries to shake off that feeling, but it persists.
Then his phone rings. The woman in his bed takes notice of this, and even he has to admit that her gaze holds some annoyance.
The urge to pick up the call is rising inside him, but he forces himself not to. Still, he can't stop himself from glancing at the caller's name.
It was you, yet again. He sighs and ignores the call, his mind filled with a jumble of thoughts.
Then the woman in his bed clears her throat, speaking in a teasing voice, "Mind explaining to me whose calling a little late at night, handsome?"
He tries to laugh it off, but he couldn't help the slight unease that the woman's playful tone brought on him.
"Oh, it's just a friend. Nothing to worry about."
His voice is steady, but he could hear his heart beat getting louder with every breath he takes.
The woman gives him a small pout before responding with a teasing voice, "Friend, eh? I'm your friend yet this 'friend' has priority over me?"
He lets out an amused chuckle, and even finds herself playing around again now that he's settled his thoughts. The woman is quite entertaining.
"Oh stop it. Its not that important—"
He glances at the phone screen again, watching as it flashed the caller's name again.
The woman analyzed his facial expression, remaining silent and then smiling, "Then how come you're not answering the call and you can't stop checking your freakin' phone?"
He sighs, his mind unable to come up with any witty answers that he could reply to her with.
"..."
The woman chuckles, still staring at him and the phone with faint amusement and slight suspicion.
"You're very cute." She said as she got out of bed to start dressing and grabbing her things to leave the hotel room.
"Right. Cute." He mumbles to himself.
"See you around, alright, handsome?"
He only nods at her, watching her carefully as she retrieves her things from the hotel room. As she is about to walk out, she stops to look at him one last time, a teasing grin on her face.
After everything he had done, the sex, the dinner, the date—now it all felt...as if nothing had changed.
In his hand was now his phone, he was contemplating your name in the calling app. 3 missed calls and a some messages.
The strange feeling of uncertainty and emptiness began to stir again, making it hard for him to sit still.
He can't stop himself from picking up the phone and checking your messages.
The messages, filled with innocent inquiries about how he was and if he was okay, was something that he has never expected to feel.
One message said; 'i have the ring you left,' That made him laugh a little.
But he can't lie, it filled him with a sense of warmth.
The concerned messages from you made him feel good. However, the last message before the calls was what caught his attention.
This one said; 'hii, can we talk?', And next to the text an emoji of a sad face.
The message was sent 3 hours ago. Before he has sex with the woman who was already gone.
huh? Why?
He feels the familiar feeling of guilt wash over him, like a wave of warmth spreading through him. He looks at the time. It's already close to 3 am.
"Damn." He mutters under his breath.
After a little more silence, with nothing but the sound of his steady breathing in the room, he picks up the phone again.
Aventurine opens the phone's dial tab, and without hesitation, he dials your number.
The phone rings a few times, and for a while he felt the sense of fear and uncertainty, hoping that you'd pick up and that he was not bothering you at such an hour.
Before he hung up, you heard your phone being answered. Aventurine did not hesitate to speak; "Hello, doll. I saw your—"
"What." A male voice, exactly that of a little boy, responded.
Aventurine stayed quiet, his eyes widening in surprise as he hears a childish male voice.
"What-?" He said after a short moment of shock. "...Who is this?"
"No, who are you?" Even though the voice on the other end of the line was that of a small child, he seemed to be annoyed by the intonation in which he spoke to Aventurine.
"Are you Y/N's brother?" Aventurine asked, trying to maintain a calm tone despite the surprise this person gave off.
A pause, the boy sighed. His tone was now more calm. "Are you the person dating my sibling?"
"Um, no... well, yes, but..." Aventurine found himself unable to give a more honest answer with his surprised mind.
"I'm dating them," He said simply, avoiding all other unnecessary information for now.
"Then you're the one that's been hurting them?" The voice on the other end of the line asked, there was no trace of innocence in his tone, only anger now.
This one caught Aventurine off guard, sending a chill down his spine.
"What-? Hurting them? What are you talking about?" He asked, trying to maintain the tone of calmness even if the boy sounded like that.
"I have eyes, you jerk." The voice on the line now sounded angrier. The childish quality of his voice was now gone too.
"You're the reason why they comes home late and sad every nigh."
"You think you can fool me just because I'm a child? You don't treat my sibling right, or properly... You only want them for sex, you don't love them." He continued.
His mind was left in stunned silence.
He was expecting some more innocent inquiries... perhaps even for him to be scolded by a little kid who was just trying to protect his sibling, but not this.
"Um..." Aventurine took a deep breath to calm his thoughts. "Hold on, let me talk to your sibling then, I'll explain everything."
"No, their are sleeping now." he seems to be refusing the offer.
"But-"
"Stop it, just listen to what I have to say." The voice on the other end of the phone said, now sounding like an irritated older brother.
Aventurine kept quiet, allowing the voice to continue his tirade.
"Just..." The child sounded more agitated, almost on the edge of shouting, "Just get out of my sibling's life, will you? They deserves someone better who would treat them right; someone that would properly love them."
"I..." Before he could respond, the call was disconnected.
Someone who would properly love them.
With this line alone, all the other childish taunts seemed to have more weight behind it.
Aventurine had no choice but to turn off the phone and leave it on the nightstand. He was still in the hotel room, however that didn't matter to him now.
No matter how much he tries to shake it off, he can't get his mind to stay put.
...
Even if he wants to brush off the kid's words, this one stung a bit.
He feels like... maybe they were right. He hasn't been treating you right, in a sense that it's not really loving you.
Right?...
The next morning, he looked at his phone again. It was literally the first thing he did when he opened his eyes.
His body felt heavy and tired, something strange for him.
He didn't know whether to write you a message to see you at night or in the afternoon, since your brother's words still continued to echo in his mind.
"To hell with it." He finished by getting out of bed and directly calling you.
Not by sending a message as his head indicated, but by calling you. Something he regretted when he heard the static of the call.
This time he hoped your brother didn't answer the phone. And that you were the one who answered.
"Hello?" Your voice sounds sleepy on the line, but it was enough to make his pulse rise a bit.
He feels his mood immediately uplifted the moment he heard your voice, however it was soon replaced by the lingering thoughts of the night before.
"Is your brother with you?" He asked, his voice carrying a slight tone of hesitation.
"Um..." Your responses were slow, and you sounded unsure about your own words too, and that added to the tension that seems to be simmering between the two of you. "What?"
"How does he know about my brother?", you thought as you rubbed your eye, trying to wake up completely.
"Well, that doesn't matter right now." He tried to clear his throat, hoping that your tone will be more clear when you're fully awake.
Before you could respond, he cut off to continue speaking. "Listen, I just wanted to ask if I can see you today. Please?"
"Um..." You were hesitating to reply, "Could it be at night? I have to work today."
"No problem." He said, a slight smile appeared on his face when you agreed. "Great, see you then, doll."
"Uh, wait a moment." Your voice came inquisitively "Just out of curiosity, could I ask why you want to see me so late?"
He thought about his answer, as he was hesitant to give a more truthful response. And in a way, he wants to talk to you with no one else but him and you.
"Oh, um..." Aventurine thought of an excuse that could hopefully sound convincing, "I just thought it'd be a more intimate time, you know?"
He lets out a small chuckle to alleviate any suspicion you might have.
Your voice seemed to have been eased by his response, and you chuckled as well.
"Really? Intimate, huh?" You can't help but smile, it's still morning but your mood improved at the thought that something intimate might happen between the two of you.
"Well, yeah?"
"Are you going to say something cheesy like, 'just for the two of us?'", you said teasingly.
He can't help but laugh, hearing your teasing remark. "Maybe I would," he teased back, "Maybe I want to say more than that..."
"wait- I thought you liked cheesy." his tone still filled with a playful and teasing quality.
"Hah, I like it... when it comes from you." You also let out a laugh before responding, and your tone seemed more sincere as well.
Without realizing it, they both let out a sigh. The tension that had existed before had dissipated, now it only felt something strange, like a longing feeling between the teasing of both.
"Huh. Well, um..."
The two of you were silent for a few seconds, before he finally spoke again.
"Anyway, I'll see you later at night?"
"Yeah, sure. See you later," You said.
Before the call ended, you couldn't help but let out a giggle, something innocent compared to the flirtations between the two of you.
Although you knew, or assumed, that he only said it as a joke, something he did with the other people he slept with.
...
Fortunately for both of us, the time flew by.
Both you and Aventurine were already in the hotel room where you always met.
It didn't take long for the kissing and caressing to begin. Something he never did with the other people he was with.
It was almost desperately, as if they had needed each other. The pent-up wait on both sides was coming to light.
It was an understatement to say that you and him were having sex. Anyone who saw them would deny that word. Especially because having sex and making love was different.
This was more than just lust.
The way you and Aventurine would look into each other's eyes, this was truly something different.
With all the intensity and passion, all the pent-up need and want that both of you have carried for so long, it made it feel more than just sex to them. It was more than just a simple pleasure.
This was your mutual yearning, finally fulfilled.
Your bodies moved together, in a perfectly rhythmic harmony that was akin to an art of its own.
Everything felt new, every touch, every sound, every move.
Your body seemed to crave for more of it.
And he was giving everything to you.
Aventurine's fingers moved up and down your leg, stroking your thigh. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper.
Your breathing became erratic, your eyes glazed, and your moans grew louder. Every second was getting more intense.
Both of you were no longer in control.
Your movements became rapid, your bodies pressed against one another. Your heart was drumming harder, faster.
That was when the climax was nearing. You were so close, your body was trembling.
You could see it on Aventurine's face, he was also close to his climax.
Your hips thrust against his, his fingers dug into your hip, your bodies trembled and heaved against each other.
The entire time, your eyes were locked together, and both of you felt like this moment would last forever.
However, good things have to end at some point.
Amidst all the obscene noise, Aventurine spoke; “Ah— I like you, Y/N.”
Your eyes widened, your breathing was still shaky, but you heard the words loud and clear.
Your face froze for a bit, as you weren't expecting him to say those words.
Your body ignored the fact that you were about to come, leaving you feeling nothing at that moment. As if you had been woken up from the hot feeling.
The way those words echoed in your head made you suddenly feel more conscious of what has happened before.
Your heart skipped a beat, then again, your mind was left dizzy for a moment.
He, after giving that statement, came inside you. Even that was something different for you, since there were usually no words other than "love" involved or him ending up inside.
On the other hand, you didn't finish.
As soon as he finished, he let out a small sigh as his body slowly softened. His body laid upon you, his head resting on your breast, and with one of his hands gently stroking your hair, tangling one of his fingers in it.
You felt a bit stunned for a few moments, still reeling from that statement— "I like you."
Your heart continued to race, your mind was still trying to comprehend the situation, or his words in particular.
Aventurine pulled away from you, his eyes glancing to the sides, a slight blush apparent on his cheeks, even at this moment.
It was a bit unlike him for him to look embarrassed; usually, he was cool-headed and collected.
The way he glanced at you and away made your heart skip another beat, your eyes then looking downwards, feeling as if you've done something wrong... or as if he did something wrong.
All of that for you was overwhelming.
"You're kidding, right?" You said, your throat feeling dry.
"I- no..."
His voice was shaken up, a bit shaken than usual, as if he didn't expect himself to say those words— or for you to react to it.
There seemed to be a lot on his mind as he spoke again. Aventurine was hurt by your words somehow.
"Do you need me to say it again?" He said, attempting a joke, but his tense expression and stuttering voice betrayed his tone.
Your head jerked up, eyes widened, and throat tightened as he said those words as a joke.
"What on earth was he implying? Was it really... the truth?", you thought.
Your mind filled with more questions, your head spinning with everything that just happened.
"No—" You blurted out, as you tried to stand up from the bed.
This was not what you expected, it was only supposed to be a sex session and nothing more. Like always. You didn't find it fun or nice that he played with you like that.
You thought that, that he was getting your hopes up since you believed that what he said was something normal that he said to the other people he spent the night with.
He saw the way you moved, the way you got off the bed, the way you tried standing up to put back on your clothes... everything.
Everything he saw, he knew exactly what your thoughts were right now. He felt a sting in his heart, your sudden reaction to his joke was nothing compared to what was going inside his head now.
"Wait—"
He tried to reach out to you, to grab your hand... but you avoided it.
He could see the confusion on your face as you began to wear your clothes back. Everything he saw now, it felt like a slap to the face.
As you put on your pants and underwear, you felt something sticky slide from your crotch. That made you realize again that he had cum inside you.
Your eyes stung slightly, putting on your clothes somewhat roughly.
"... please." He said again, his voice now more shaken than before.
He tried approaching you once more, trying to get you to stop what you were doing, but it was no use.
"I was being serious about what I said," he said again, "I... genuinely like you."
It was obvious that the tension was still high, and your expression showed no sign of softening anytime soon though.
"Please...don't say that again." Your voice cracked as you spoke.
You were afraid to believe his words, you were afraid to get more attached to him.
Your words pierced into his heart, his chest filling up with a heavy feeling. He was hurt by the way your voice broke while saying those words.
He didn't expect it to affect him so much, and he really was serious about what he said, but why did you have to respond the way you did now?
"I think it's better that we stop doing this." You said quickly, taking your belongings and leaving the room without seeing him again.
He remained on the bed, sitting in silence as you left. His heart felt heavy, and his mind seemed to be blank.
He thought that you would stay with him, that you'd...
Aventurine wanted to call out to you, or at least stop you from leaving, but he knew he wouldn't have the chance to do that because you already left the room.
There were so many doubts swirling in his head, so many things he wanted to say to you.
"Maybe it's better that we stop seeing each other..." He thought, while looking at the sheets on the bed. "...So his brother won't be worried anymore."
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©cherrylovelycherry do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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meidnightrain · 29 days
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I BET ON LOSING DOGS❞ - aventurine
summary: even if you’d lose, you’d always bet on this doomed love no matter what
warnings: reader is gn, 2.1 penacony quest spoilers, angst, hurt/no comfort
notes: i love this song so it was only fair for me to write this out for aventurine, i’ve been in the mood for angst lately so this came to be. had to repost this two times because tumblr kept hiding my post from tags 😭
taglist(open): @akutasoda , @yvnaology , @tragedy-of-commons , @ryuryuryuyurboat
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there’s a resounding silence that eats you up in the aftermath of it all. people would describe it as thick enough that you could slice it and plate it like a cake. not this time, it’s empty, like someone is missing, and that absence has torn a rip in the very fabric of your soul.
it was your fault anyway, for betting on losing dogs when this all started. you knew that this outcome was inevitable; for what else would a gambler love more than betting his all even with stacked odds? AVENTURINE was different—oh, so different—than all the other people that had tried to woo you before. with carefully calculated moves and a meticulous plan to win your heart, he had struck gold with you. but the two sides of him were in stark contrast, hiding the other vulnerable side of him that no one could ever see. that was, until you came along and tore down his stone walls like they were paper.  
and you would have done it all over again, betting on losing dogs even if it meant that your heart would get smashed into smithereens. he never needed to give you money or whatever luxuries he’d bribe others with to make a deal, for your heart would drop whenever you heard his name.
a bad ending was inevitable to this doomed narrative, an outcome far outweighing the positives. did it matter whether you’d get broken over and over again, trying to love someone broken? you’d rip out pieces from your heart and give them to him so he could fill the missing pieces of his. but you both still stayed anyway, despite knowing how this would all end, and you’d always call him your baby.
he was reluctant to love; it’s easier to bet it all when you have nothing at stake if you fail, but you were on the line. it would be a lie to say that he was fearless and always confident in his abilities, which would wiggle him out of any situation. sometimes, a blessing from the gaiathra triclops could only bring you so far, and he worried about when that luck would run out. he could never match the love you gave him, unable to leave this loop and cycle of self-hatred that had followed him all his life. how could AVENTURINE tell you, who treated him like he was the world to you, that he was only worth 60 tanba?
the air in the dreamscape always had this sickly sweet smell of soulglad that would tickle your nose and make you sick to your stomach. was that how you felt about this doomed love—feeling sick knowing that this could only end badly?
“i’m afraid that i’m going to have to bear this burden; this feeling of knowing something inside you is constantly missing. and that something is you.”
he doesn’t look at you; his expression is hidden behind the shadows, obscuring his face. some would compare him to a peacock, his train feathers in a dazzling display like the cards in his hand. but the feathers will eventually fade, like how luck eventually runs out.
“one day, it won’t be there anymore. i don’t know when that day will come, but i want you to know that i…will always love you.” 
“but i love you more than you could ever imagine, and that’s why that feeling will stay with me till the end of my days. it’s because you’re going far away, somewhere i can’t follow.”  
this time, AVENTURINE doesn’t offer you solace or comfort; he stands with such stillness that you could have mistaken him for a statue. no words, no movements, no comfort, no reassurance. he knows that his time is up; the very thing that he’s craved for so long has come, but at the price of your heart. torn between you and the freedom that he’s sought all his life, he chooses himself. so he chooses to walk out the door, with his heart in his throat and it’s like all of you leaves with him.  
the aftermath is silent and cold, unforgiving like the cool waters that would rain down from the sky of sigonia scarcely. it’s deep, and it’s bone-chilling, pushing your head down under the raging waves relentlessly as you sink helplessly into the water with no one to pull you out. the dreamscape is in disarray. the family and their loyal dogs scrambling to keep up appearances and re-opening the theme park despite its stage being decimated by his show, his performance, and the grandest death that he always dreamed of having.  
looking at the torn sky of this horrid nightmare, you can’t help but wonder why you bet on this failed dream when you’d know that you’d lose and pay for your place by the ring. perhaps it would have felt better if you could have looked into his eyes when he was down—one last time with those eyes that had pierced your soul and crumbled your walls. 
AVENTURINE would always win the gamble, even if it meant that he would lose the bet and everything else in the process. you had lost dismally for you’d always wanted him, even if it meant destroying yourselves in the process. and it wouldn’t have been as bad if he had been over you, looking into your eyes as you came right back to him like always. but this time, you were the one who let him slip through your fingers and you were left with nothing but your broken, bleeding heart and false promises of a home you could never return to. he told you forever, that was how long you’d be together and how long you’d call him your home. but forever was too short and the house was haunted now.  
and you’d cry thinking of all the words he’d said to you. his affirmations, his compliments, the whispered ‘i love you’ behind closed doors paired with a kiss, and the arguments that’d have your heart racing faster than the speed of light. and you’d cry even harder thinking of all the words you could have said but never did.
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