Bokuto Fluff - Blog Posts

When He Falls Asleep on You (Haikyuu!! Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m back to my same old spiel of “it’s been a while” and “I’m so sorry I haven’t posted in (insert time) days!” Truth is, I just haven’t had the time to write like I know some of y’all haven’t had the time to read. However, I’m happy to be back, even if it is just for this one post. I hope y’all are doing good, and enjoy!

Word count: 1005

Bokuto Koutarou: 

While his falling asleep on you is usually an accident (considering it’s much easier to admire you while he’s awake), he certainly always makes the best of the situation. 

He nods off and his head slumps to your shoulder and instinctively you want to push him away because you just know him drooling is an inevitability but, no, a sleeping Bokuto is an adorable Bokuto.

He mumbles in his sleep. You’ve learned that from experience.

Black and white hairs tickle your neck but you don’t dare to scratch partly because one of his arms is already wrapped around you locking your own against your sides and partly because waking him would be a crime upon nature. 

It only tickles for a few moments anyway because in a matter of seconds he’s curling in deeper, snuggling his forehead against your throat while his legs clamber into your lap.

It’s awkward. It’s hot. It’s not quite a boyfriend cuddling his girlfriend and more so a koala straddling a tree branch. 

But it’s a classic Bokuto cuddle-bordering-on-suffocation situation so you settle in for what will be an awkward, hot bus ride. 

And eventually you lean your head on his and fall asleep because, eh, why not.

Konoha totally has pictures that he sells to Bokuto later

Tsukishima Kei: 

More often than not, when Tsukishima Kei falls asleep on the bus, he goes full turtle. 

Blond head perched back on the top of the bus seat, headphones around his neck while his mouth hangs open in a soundless snore. This dude is usually conked. 

(He’s learned to sit near the front of the bus lest he risk another session of “What can Kageyama and Tanaka throw into Tsukishima’s mouth?”)

So when his head lolls to the side and rests ever so delicately on the edge of your shoulder, you freeze like a deer in headlights. 

This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, so don’t you dare screw it up. 

However… his glasses press really hard into the bony part of your shoulder. 

At first, you try to suffer through the pain, taking timed, measured breaths in through the nose and out through the mouth. 

Then you contemplate humming to distract yourself, but you drop that strategy the instant he twitches on your first note. 

It’s too much. Come on, there’s no way there isn’t a bruise there by now!

The constant digging of plastic into your bone is insufferable at this point. You needed to eradicate the problem if this rare event was to continue.

You inch your right hand up ever so slowly, keeping your breathing steady so as to not frighten the flighty creature resting upon you. 

You turn your head just a touch and your chin brushes the hair atop his head, but he doesn’t disturb one bit at the slight tousle--thank God.

With two pinching fingers you grab the frames and remove them with the delicate touch of butterfly wings. 

Almost there… almost… have them...

Then Tsukishima stirs. 

“Screw it.” You yank the glasses away and drop them into your lap before returning your hand to the side of his face. 

“YN, what are you-” he cuts off in a grunt as you shove his head back onto your shoulder. 

“Shhhh.”

“YN.” His voice is muffled from his face being smushed into your shirt.

“Shhhh. Don’t ruin it.”

“YN-”

“Escape is futile.” You pat his cheek as the rest of his body squirms like a fish caught in a net. “Accept your fate, Tsukki.”

Iwaizumi Hajime: 

Sticky. Sweaty. Warm. 

You have no doubt that as soon as Iwaizumi wakes up, you will have to peel your shirt from his face like a sticker. 

But you figure he deserves the rest. He played a great game and is understandably worn out. 

And you’d be damned if you didn’t want to play pillow for him from time to time. 

No, he’s not your boyfriend, but you certainly wish he was. 

One of his hands fell onto your thigh the second he drifted off and your own hovers over it, an eagle waiting to land. 

God, he’s so warm. Like a personal heater. The bus was pretty cold too considering Iwaizumi had the bright idea of leaving your seat’s window open for whatever reason. 

The first time you complained about the cold, he offered you his jacket. However, two seconds after his offer your cheeks were burning enough to warm the rest of your body so refused. 

And now here you were, almost losing consciousness yourself on account of how comfortable you’d grown in this position. 

A nap… surely a nap wouldn’t hurt. 

Today’s game had asked for a five a.m. arrival at the school, one seven hour bus ride down to the opponent, and one returning. It was understandable that you were exhausted yourself. 

The eagle landed and your drooping eyes slipped closed. Iwaizumi’s hair--so soft--felt like the perfect cushion as you slipped into warm, deep sleep. 

The soft pressure on Iwaizumi’s head allowed for a small smile to grow on his face. 

Fucking finally.

Just one eye peered open and though he couldn’t see much, your hand resting flat on his just so happened to be the perfect sight. 

He waited until your breathing truly evened out before moving, slowly flipping his hand palm up and intertwining your fingers between his. 

His eyes began to blur once more and he gave your hand a gentle squeeze before giving in to the tiredness completely, grinning at the soft sigh you released. 

Yes. Finally.

You Use the Safeword (Haikyuu!! Headcanons)

*GIFS not mine*

Kuroo and Kageyama Version

A/N: I’ve got like a million ideas for these, so just be prepared. (PS: someone needs to tell the star wars writers to get some yandere kylo ren out here😤 like yall im thirsty)

Word count: 1269

Bokuto Koutarou:

He’s the type to spring to the other side of the room the second he hears the word “Chumbawumba” fall from your lips. 

It’s a mewl and whimper all wrapped in one that swiftly and harshly rip his heart in two. 

While you crush a pillow against your chest to try and assuage the pain, a wave of horror dawns on Bokuto’s face. He’s watching every move you make to ensure you’re still actually breathing just as the first tear slips. 

Soon, it’s not alone as he starts bawling, his whimpers and sniffles leaving his face a damp, mucus-drenched nightmare.

“Oh Bo...”

“YN I HURT YOU!” 

You could physically watch as that fact ate him up from the inside out. First, he crumpled to his knees, and then he hugged them to his chest. Muffled sobs echoed around the room louder than your cries of pleasure ever had, leaving you to wallow in pity as your boyfriend beat himself up. 

“Bo, I’m okay, I promise.”

It’s a struggle at first, but you still attempt to ease yourself off the bed. Bokuto’s ears perk and his head raises but the second he spots you reaching out for him he springs to his feet.

“NO!” Tears start falling even faster when he notices how you flinched at his cry.

“Please, YN,” he continues, voice lowered, “I don’t want to hurt you again.”

Pursing your lips, you try to take another step but he presses himself harder against the door, hand scrambling for the knob. Just as he finds it, you pounce on him, snatching his wrist and yanking it towards you.

“YN wait-”

“Shut up,” you huff out, gripping him even tighter when he starts twisting and tugging his arm. Without missing a beat, you yank the hand towards your body and press it just over your heart.

His fingers are cold against your hot, sticky skin, but that doesn’t stop you as you watch his expression, waiting for a reaction. 

“...Why?”

“Because Bo,” you roll your eyes and press both hands over his own, “my heart is still yours, no matter how many times you get a little rough in bed.”

He’s silent as he studies your hands on his, even more so when he raises his other to wipe the saltiness from his cheeks. 

“I... I never wanted to hurt you, YN. Not in a million years.”

“I know, babe. And that’s what the safeword is for,” you gesture back to the bed. “Remember? We came up with it so you wouldn’t accidentally hurt me, and that’s all that was--an accident.”

He sniffles once more before nodding. “Okay.” The hand on his own cheek transferred to yours with a hesitancy you had never felt before. When his fingertips met your skin, he sighed in relief, cupping the side of your face and running a thumb just over the rosy apple of your cheek.

You smile and press a kiss into his palm. “All right, how about we watch a movie instead?”

“I don’t think-”

“If you go out and get my favorite candy, I might just give you forgiveness cuddles.” His eyes glowed with anticipation. 

As always, Bokuto was only willing to accept your kindness by working for it; he never thought he deserved it otherwise. That’s why the second you suggested the offer, he zipped out of the room in only his boxers and T-shirt.

“I’LL GET YOU ALL THE BOXES, BABY, JUST YOU WAIT!”

“Bo, don’t forget-”

“SHIT, MY SHOES!”

Tsukishima Kei: 

He knows it before you even whisper “ginger shrimp.”

Your lips formed into an “o,” but not a good “o.”

Tsukishima’s eyes widen before he turns away, climbing off you and reaching for his glasses. They clatter to the floor and he leans down to grab them, trembling hands unfolding the lenses and pushing them up his nose. 

“I’m sorry,” he grunts. His voice is hoarse and quiet; less scathing than you had ever heard it. Even in a moment like this, you wish you could see his face but his back is turned toward you completely. 

“Tsukki...”

“I’m going to... go get you an aspirin and a glass of water. E-excuse me.” 

Shock encompasses your face the second you hear your boyfriend--your overly-critical, always-sarcastic boyfriend--stutter for what must have been the first time in his life. 

You don’t bother to point it out though because the door is already closing behind him the minute you shake yourself out of the daze. 

His bedroom is silent, but not the comfortable silence you and him are both used to. It’s painful and awkward and worries you about whether Tsukishima will even bother talking to you for a while. 

You can’t even hear a sound in the rest of the house because the atmosphere is so dark and heavy. A lump forms in your throat and you glance at the clock. 

Ten minutes.

Ten minutes have passed since he said he would leave to get you a painkiller. It didn’t even hurt anymore at this point, and truly what surprised you the most was how hard Tsukishima took it on himself. 

You decided to go investigate after another five minutes ticked by. 

The hardwood floor left a flood of chills racing up your body as you tiptoed through his room and out into the hallway. With only his thin sheets to keep you covered, you sneaked down the stairs and padded into the kitchen.

No luck.

His white blanket dragged along the floor as you traveled past the small opening into the living room, finally spotting your boyfriend.

Long fingers tangled into blond hair as his back curled over, elbows stuck on his knees while he cradled his head. 

You chose to stay silent and not disturb him, instead making your way over and plopping onto the cushion next to him on the sofa. He raised from his position and turned to you, eyes snapping open. 

“Sorry, I didn’t get your-”

Your arms wrapped around his neck as you twisted your body to trap him in a hug. The sheet slipped down your body but you didn’t bother adjusting it, not when there were more serious matters to handle. 

“YN...”

“Shut up,” you dug a hand into the nape of his neck, shoving his face into your collarbone. “I’m fine, you doofus. You didn’t kill me; I’m not as fragile as you think.”

You felt his jaw clench against your chest before he huffed, not-so reluctantly returning the hug with his arms around your waist. 

The living room was silent for a moment, just you and Tsukishima soaking up each other’s presence in the early midday hours with only the birds outside to keep you company. His skin was warm and bare against yours, but, unsurprisingly, his fingers were colder than ice. 

“I told you that was a bad idea, you know.” And there it is. 

At least it was nice while it lasted. 

Tsukishima pulled away and glanced your body up and down in what he must’ve thought was a discreet way. 

“It sounded like fun, you know. At least I thought you would’ve liked it.”

He set his jaw. “If it meant you never getting hurt again, I’d say we should stick to vanilla from now on.”

“Aww, but where’s the fun in that?”

this broke my heart 😭 can i please be added to the taglist? ty!! 💗

Chapter 3

sypnosis: you and your boyfriend, Bokuto had a fight the day before the training camp in Tokyo and it was all because of a girl carrying rumors that left the both of you in bad terms. Will the ace and the manager immediately resolve this issue, or will they keep it that way until for who knows when?

✦ genre: angst, fluff

✦ word count: 3.7k

✦ warnings: reader’s heartbreak

»»— masterlist | previous (ch.2) | next (ch. 3.5)

chapter 2…

Bokuto released a deep sigh, blaming himself for every stupid thing he’s done to you. “I fucking hate myself.” He holds his hips as he scrunched his eyebrows in distress. You would always laugh at his craziness and he’d even do it deliberately if it makes you happy. Out of each of them, this could be the stupidest and the saddest one yet.

“You reap what you sow.” Aiko stated and grabs her phone to check the time. “And you better get ready for tomorrow.”

That’s enough scolding for someone who already admits their fault.

He pouts, his eyes full of hope. “Is y/n-chan going to be there?”

“She’s not coming.”

DAY ONE: Training Camp

The night breaks into dawn. It was serene and the weather was perfect for the start of the training camp. People are snuggled into bed, still in slumber, and yet the volleyball clubs from different schools are already on their way to spend the week fortifying themselves.

Coach Yamiji speaks entirely of pure motivation to keep Fukurodani at their greatest forms. He had always encouraged them right before they showcase their willpower on the court.

However, the coach’s word doesn’t seem to be effective on the ace. All of them are steeled except for him. Bokuto stands beside his teammates, in a deep trance. He was unusually quiet for some reason, and it concerned the whole volleyball club.

Also, it was too early for him to be in his emo mode. Unless something or someone had provoked him to be that way.

But this wasn’t his typical emo mode either.

Keep reading

Husbandry: Bokuto (NSFW)

Koutaro loved being a father. He loved everything about it—the giggles, the tiny hands reaching for his, the way his child clung to his leg like a koala when he tried to leave for practice. He loved the sleepy, drooling cuddles, the way they cheered for him at games even when they barely understood what was going on, the pure adoration in their big, bright eyes.

He loved his family. He loved the life he had built with you.

But damn, he was dying to fuck his wife.

At first, it wasn’t so bad. The newborn stage had been exhausting, but you’d found your moments, stolen kisses between diaper changes and late-night feedings. But now? Now, his kid was everywhere.

Hina wanted to play all the time, wanted to be glued to your side, wanted to co-sleep every damn night. If he so much as kissed you for too long, tiny hands would push between you both, demanding attention. And the worst part? You loved it. You’d always been so patient with her, smiling when she pulled you away from him, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before going to settle her back into bed. Meanwhile, Koutaro was left aching, frustrated, and wound up tighter than a spring.

The longing was getting unbearable. He needed you. Needed to feel your hands on him, your nails digging into his back, the press of your body against his without interruption.

So when he saw his chance—his first real chance in weeks—he pounced.

Hina was absorbed in her favorite cartoon, settled comfortably on the couch, giggling at the screen, completely distracted. And you? You were in the kitchen, slicing up fruit, completely alone.

Koutaro didn’t hesitate.

He moved in fast, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, burying his face against your neck, groaning dramatically. "Baby, I’m starving."

You laughed, not missing the way his hands wandered, sliding under your shirt, fingers tracing slow, teasing circles against your stomach. "I’m literally making you a snack right now."

"Not that kinda hungry," he murmured, lips grazing your ear, pressing his hips firmly against your ass so you could feel exactly what he meant.

You inhaled sharply, the knife in your hand faltering for just a second. "Koutaro—"

"C’mon, babe," he whined, rocking his hips just a little, making you shudder. "We can sneak upstairs. Just real quick. Ten minutes. No—five! I swear, I can be fast."

You snorted. "You’re never fast."

He grinned against your skin, his hands moving higher, palming your breasts, kneading them just the way he knew made you weak. "Fine, twenty minutes. But you have to be quiet."

You let out a soft, breathy moan, pressing back into him just enough to feel the hard, teasing drag of his body against yours. Your breathing picked up, your fingers gripping the counter as you leaned into his touch, heat pooling low in your stomach. "You’re terrible," you murmured, but there was no real bite to your words. Koutaro smirked against your neck, his hands squeezing your waist. He knew he had you.

Then—

"Mama! I want my fruit!"

Koutaro froze.

You quickly smoothed down your shirt, tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear, forcing yourself to look composed.

Tiny feet pattered into the kitchen, and suddenly, Hina was wedging between you and Koutaro, tiny hands tugging at your shirt.

"Mama! I want fruit! And Daddy, come watch my show with me! My favorite episode is on!"

Koutaro exhaled sharply through his nose, closing his eyes for a long moment. Defeated.

You sigh, turning and pecking him on the cheek, grinning. "Guess duty calls, Daddy."

With a deep, exaggerated sigh, Koutaro stepped back, ruffling his child’s hair before lifting her into his arms. "Alright, alright. Let’s go watch your show."

As he walked away, he heard your muffled laughter from the kitchen, making his frustration spike. His fingers flexed against Hina’s back as he carried her, already thinking about revenge.

By the time he settled onto the couch with her, she was already chattering excitedly about her favorite episode, eyes glued to the screen. Koutaro, however, was fuming.

He turned back, just before disappearing into the living room, throwing you a desperate, betrayed look.

This wasn’t over.

Not by a long shot.

---

Later that night, he was sure he was getting what he wanted.

Koutaro had planned it perfectly. He'd worn Hina out all day—a long walk, hours at the park, a warm bath, and a bedtime story that left her knocked out cold in her own bed. No way she was waking up tonight.

With a victorious smirk, he made his way to the bedroom, already anticipating the way you’d melt under his touch.

He stepped inside to find you standing by the dresser, slipping into one of his old shirts for bed. Your hair was slightly damp from your shower, skin soft, glowing in the dim light of the bedside lamp.

You turned at the sound of the door clicking shut, raising a brow as he stalked toward you. "Where’s Hina?"

"In her own bed," he murmured, voice low, confident. "Sleeping like a log."

Before you could react, his hands were on your waist, pulling you against him. He kissed you like he hadn’t kissed you in months—deep, needy, filled with everything he’d been holding back.

You gasped softly, but you didn’t hesitate, your arms looping around his neck as you pressed back into him, matching his intensity, his hunger. His hands roamed your body, fingers trailing down your spine, squeezing at your hips, touching you like he was trying to make up for lost time.

His mouth moved to your jaw, then your neck, and he groaned as his fingers slid beneath the hem of your shirt, moving lower, lower—

Knock, knock.

A tiny, tearful voice called from the hallway. "Mama? Daddy?"

You and Koutaro froze.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, still tangled together, his breath heavy against your skin.

Then, he pulled back just enough to stare at you, eyes filled with sheer, soul-crushing defeat.

You smirked, barely able to contain your amusement. "Like a log, huh?"

His expression darkened, and you couldn't help it—you burst into laughter.

Groaning, Koutaro dropped his forehead against your shoulder, completely deflated.

Another knock. "Mamaaa…"

With a deep sigh, you both quickly fixed yourselves up before Koutaro trudged to the door, opening it to reveal Hina standing there, rubbing her sleepy little eyes, sniffling.

"Had a bad dream, baby?" you cooed, crouching down to brush her hair back gently.

She nodded, sniffling again before reaching up toward Koutaro. "Can I sleep with you and Mama?"

He glanced over at you, looking so damn resigned, so utterly defeated.

You grinned, shrugging. "Guess duty calls again, Daddy."

Letting out the most dramatic sigh of his life, Koutaro scooped her up, carrying her to the bed. He flopped onto the mattress, his dream of having you to himself completely shattered as she snuggled between you both.

As you reached over to turn off the light, you caught Koutaro’s stare from across the pillow—his desperate, betrayed look that all but screamed: This isn’t over.

But hours later, it was still keeping him awake.

He laid there in the dark, eyes fixed on the ceiling, his body tense with frustration. Every single attempt at having you to himself had been shut down, and now, with his daughter nestled comfortably between you both, it felt like the final nail in his coffin.

Except—he wasn’t giving up. Not tonight.

Slowly, he turned his head, glancing at Hina. Her breathing was steady, deep, completely out. Koutaro stayed still for a few more moments, just to be sure, before carefully, painstakingly, peeling himself away from the bed.

You stirred slightly, mumbling something incoherent, but he was already leaning in, brushing his lips against your ear. "Baby… come with me."

You blinked groggily, barely registering his voice. "Kou…?"

"Shhh," he whispered, his hand warm against your waist. "Come on. Just trust me."

Still half-asleep, you let him pull you up, letting him lead you quietly, carefully out of the bedroom. As soon as you both stepped into the dimly lit living room, you rubbed at your eyes, yawning. "Koutaro… what’s going on?"

But he didn’t answer with words.

Instead, he tilted your chin up, trailing soft kisses down your jaw, your neck, whispering against your skin. "We just need to be quiet."

Your breath hitched, your drowsiness evaporating in an instant as his hands gripped your hips, pulling you flush against him.

You gasped softly, but the second his mouth found that sensitive spot just beneath your ear, you melted into him. "Koutaro, you’re insatiable…"

He grinned, his fingers already slipping beneath the hem of your shirt as he guided you toward the couch. "Missed you too much, baby. Can’t wait anymore."

And as he pressed you down onto the cushions, settling between your legs, he whispered again, "Just keep quiet for me, yeah?"

You barely had a chance to respond before his hand slipped between your legs, fingertips tracing along your inner thigh, teasing, taking his time. You shivered, your legs instinctively parting wider for him, and he let out a quiet, pleased hum.

"That’s it, baby," he murmured against your ear, his fingers brushing over your underwear, pressing against the heat already pooling there. "You’re already so wet for me. Missed this, huh?"

You bit your lip, nodding as you arched into his touch, barely suppressing a gasp when he slid his fingers under the fabric, stroking you slow, deliberate.

"Koutaro—"

"Shhh, baby," he whispered, his other hand coming up to gently cover your mouth. "Gotta stay quiet, remember?"

Your head tipped back against the couch as he slid a finger inside, curling just right, dragging along that spot that had you nearly choking on your moans. When he added a second, his pace deep and unrelenting, your thighs clamped around his hand, body trembling under his touch.

"Feel good?" he asked, watching you with dark, hungry eyes. "Bet you’ve been needing this just as bad as I have."

You could barely nod, barely breathe, your chest rising and falling in uneven gasps as he worked you open, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

"Wanna come for me, baby?" His voice was low, coaxing, filthy. "I can feel you squeezing me—go ahead, let go. Just be quiet."

You whined against his palm, your whole body tensing as pleasure crashed over you, your walls pulsing around his fingers as you came, thighs shaking.

Koutaro groaned, pressing soft kisses along your jaw, your cheeks, his fingers slowing but not stopping as he helped you ride it out.

"Good girl," he whispered, nuzzling against your temple. "That’s my girl."

Before you could fully come down, he was shifting, gripping your hips, lining himself up.

"K-Koutaro—"

He pushed in, slow, deep, deliberate, and you nearly sobbed at the overwhelming pleasure. Your walls clenched around him, so tight, so warm, making his breath stutter against your skin.

Your fingers dug into his shoulders, your back arching as he bottomed out, his size stretching you perfectly. The sensation was too much, so intense it sent tears flooding your eyes.

Koutaro kissed them away, murmuring against your skin, "Needed this, baby. Needed you. So bad."

His thrusts were slow, deep, each roll of his hips pressing right where you needed him most. You were drowning in the feeling, in the weight of him, in the way he moved inside you like he was savoring every second.

You wanted to cry out, to let him know just how good he was making you feel, but his hand was quick to cover your mouth again, muffling your desperate whimpers.

"Shhh, baby," he whispered, voice strained, nearly breaking from how good you felt around him. "Can’t have Hina hearing, right? Just be good for me, just take it—"

And you did. You took all of him, his slow, aching thrusts sending you spiraling, pulling you under, dragging out every bit of pleasure until you couldn’t hold it anymore.

"Koutaro—oh god—"

"I got you," he whispered, gripping your waist tighter, his hips stuttering as he felt you clamp down around him. "Come with me, baby. Let go."

The second your body tensed, walls pulsing around him, he followed, groaning as he spilled deep inside you, burying his face against your neck as he let go completely.

For a long moment, neither of you moved.

Just the sound of ragged breathing, the quiet hum of the house, the lingering warmth of each other.

Then—

A soft shuffling noise. A tiny, sleepy voice.

"Mama? Daddy?"

Your entire body locked up, heart stopping, breath catching in your throat.

Koutaro went completely still, eyes widening in horror.

Another rustling noise. "Mamaaa… where’d you go?"

You whipped your head around, eyes darting to the hallway, panic surging through you. Koutaro’s mind raced, searching for an escape, an excuse, anything.

Then—quick as lightning—he peeked his head up over the couch, calling out in the most casual voice he could muster—

"Just helping Mommy look for something, sweetheart! We’ll be back in bed soon!"

Your face burned.

Hina yawned, rubbing her sleepy little eyes, looking far too tired to question anything. "Okay… hurry up, ‘kay?"

"We will, baby," you managed to choke out. "Go back to bed, we’ll be right there."

She sniffled, nodded, and padded back down the hall.

The second she was gone, you collapsed against Koutaro’s chest, smacking his shoulder. "You absolute menace."

He groaned dramatically, throwing an arm over his eyes. "I can’t live like this."

You chuckled, running your fingers through his hair. "That’s why I asked my parents to take her for the weekend."

Koutaro froze.

Then, slowly, he lifted his head, staring at you like you’d just given him the greatest gift of his life.

Without another word, he nuzzled into you, wrapping you up in his arms like he never wanted to let go. "I love you so much."

You smiled, cuddling into his warmth, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. "I love you too."