hq-cuties-pls:

Short Aone/reader fic done for a commission. This was a joy to write! Our gentle giant needs more love.

If you’re interested in getting a commission, you can find links to commission info on the Admins page!

~Admin Alyx

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You collapsed onto your brand new sofa, heaving a sigh of relief. You could feel the soreness setting into your muscles already, and your t-shirt clung to your sweat-damp skin, but the satisfaction of a job well done outweighed any physical discomfort.

You were finally moved into your new place. Yours. It was a small one-bedroom, no frills and honestly pretty cramped, but… it was your place. The knobs for hot and cold water in the tub were reversed, and the kitchen cabinets were painted an odd green that looked a little dated, but in your mind these quirks just added to the charm of the place.

You looked up at Aone, who was just standing a little uncertainly next to the sofa.

“Takkun?” you said with a laugh. “You gonna sit down or what?”

He had done most of the heavy lifting, so you knew he had to be tired, too, even as strong as he was. He sank carefully onto the sofa beside you, leaving a short distance between you that you quickly closed, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“I’m sweaty,” he argued, but you snuggled against him anyway.

“Like I’m not!” you said. He apparently relented, because he relaxed against you, finding your hand and winding your fingers through his own. It had surprised you, when the two of you first started dating, how tactile he was. In retrospect, it made sense. Though he’d opened up to you, he still was a man of very few words. He expressed his feelings through actions, and when he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, you understood him perfectly.

“Thank you so much for your help today,” you said. “I have no idea how I would have managed without you.”

He gave a soft hum in response, brushing his thumb against the back of your hand.

You stuck your hand into your pocket, nervously tracing the outline of the key you’d slipped in there. You’d been rehearsing this in your head all day, but even so you couldn’t help the surge of nerves that overtook you now.

“So, um…” you began, cringing slightly. Off to a great start. “Taka… hold out your hand and close your eyes!” you said quickly. This wasn’t how you’d planned this, but you weren’t sure how to actually say it, so you chickened out. Nevertheless, he did as told, shutting his eyes and holding out his free hand in front of you.

Slowly, you pulled the key out of your pocket and held it over his hand, hesitating for a long moment before you bit the bullet and dropped it.

“Okay… open your eyes.”

He blinked his eyes open, lifting his hand towards his face.

“It’s… a key,” he said in a monotone.

“I had an extra made,” you said. “I was wondering if maybe you wanted to… to… moveinwithme?” You uttered the end of the sort-of question on one breath, the sounds jumbling together so much you wondered if he’d even understood.

Aone was silent. This wasn’t out of the ordinary, exactly, but given the circumstances the silence made it only that much more nerve-wracking for you. You snuck a glance at him and saw that his serious eyes were fixed unblinking on the key in his hand.

“You mean it?” he said finally, his voice deep and earnest and heartbreakingly hopeful.

“Yes,” you said breathlessly, looking up at him. “I want you to stay with me. I want this to be our place.”

His brow was furrowed, and to anyone else it might have looked like a scowl, but you knew him. You’d learned the nuances of his facial expressions, and you could see the particular curve of his mouth, the slight wobble of emotion.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice deep and almost hoarse. “I—yes. Yes, I want to live with you. Nothing would make me happier.”

His hazel eyes shone, and without warning a rare grin spread across his face, making your breath catch in your chest. You treasured his smiles. He smiled a little bit like he’d heard a smile described secondhand once, but had never actually seen one to know how. His mouth was too wide, baring every one of his teeth, and even a full-blown smile wasn’t enough to fully smooth the furrow in his brow—you’d learned that his face really was just like that. His eyes, though. His eyes shone so brightly and so earnestly when he smiled that you couldn’t help but grin back at him.

“Really?” you asked.

He stared back into your eyes, his brow furrowed deeply with emotion. Then he did what he did best: he let his actions speak where words could not. He took your face gently in his broad, calloused hands, gazing intently at you. You could feel the cool press of metal against your cheek where he’d hooked the key ring around his pinky finger.

He leaned forward ever so slowly until his lips pressed firmly against yours. His fingers slid back into your hair as he kissed you, his lips moving slowly and intently against your own. He hummed against your lips, and you could feel the vibration as it rumbled low in his chest. A rush of love and giddy excitement hit you—he’d said yes, you were moving in together—and you poured yourself into the kiss, sliding a hand over his chest. He pulled you closer, drew you in until you were leaning over him at an odd angle. At that point you threw caution to the wind, throwing one leg over his lap so you were straddling him.

He exhaled sharply, making a sound low in his throat that was something akin to a growl. His hands slid down your neck, falling to your sides, travelling down over your thighs and back up to encircle your waist, his broad hands splaying over your back and pulling you close. He broke the kiss for a moment to stare up at you, his eyes somehow conveying what words couldn’t. You knew the feeling—the whirl of emotions you were experiencing at the moment was utterly indescribable.

You took a leaf out of his book, letting your actions speak for you. You kissed him again with renewed vigor, his lips parting readily for you as your tongue slid against his, hot and wet and eager. You could taste the salty tang of sweat—his or yours, you couldn’t say—but it didn’t deter you. His arms tightened in a vise grip around your waist, until you were pulled flush against him, your legs parted in a lewd stretch over his lap. You could feel him through the flimsy fabric of his athletic shorts, hot and practically pulsing with desire.

“Shall we…” you said breathlessly, licking your lips and swallowing thickly. “Shall we christen the—our—new bedroom?”

He growled again, wrapping his arms securely around your thighs and rising from the sofa, lifting you and carrying you towards the bedroom like it was nothing. You laughed joyfully, burying your fingers in his hair.

You’d take that as a yes.

Love!!!! I just adore Aone and this was so sweet!