You barely reach the couch before gravity wins and you sprawl out across Midoriya’s lap, boneless and dramatic. His eyes widen instantly, a soft gasp escaping him as your cheek finds the curve of his arm—lean, strong, and just soft enough to cradle your weight like it was made to.

“Oh! You—you okay?” he asks, flustered but already smiling. “Long day?”

You hum in response, nuzzling into his bicep without thinking. His skin is warm and his hoodie smells like fresh linen and the faintest hint of cinnamon. He freezes for a second, then lets out a breathy laugh, hand coming up to brush through your hair with careful fingers.

“You always do this,” he says, voice light and fond. “You like my arms that much?” He glances down at you, cheeks already pink, but his eyes are soft—so full of affection it makes your chest ache. He adjusts a little, just to pull you closer. His free arm wraps around your back, hesitant at first, then secure.

“I don’t mind if you always wanna do this,” he murmurs, resting his chin gently on the top of your head. “You make me feel strong. And safe. Like… like I’m doing something right.”

You shift closer. He squeezes you tighter. He cherishes these moments where it's just you and him. When he can just be your boyfriend and be affectionate and soft and loving.

“Stay like this as long as you want,” he whispers, barely above a breath. “You’re safe here. With me.” He kisses your forehead, smiling at the sight of your pretty face pressed into his arm. He'd happily lay there and let you sleep on him until his arm fell off if you wanted to. There was nothing in the world that would make him move right now.