His dreams were as filled with her as his night was. Together they stayed up well past 'way too late' and at some point in the marathon, they had managed to fall asleep. Emi held onto him like he was her life raft, never letting him out of her grasp for anything less than a bathroom break. Whatever she was going through was hitting her hard. And as bad as it sounded, he was happy that she found peace in him.

The early morning light drifted in from the closed curtains, filling the room with the kind of soft glow that he didn't get to enjoy very often. He was still tired, dead tired, too tired to be awake, with somewhere between zero and five hours of sleep under his belt. But he just couldn't go back to sleep, for so many reasons.

The most important one was using his chest as a pillow as they shared a couch. He felt bad, his mom had even gone through the effort of setting up the guest room for her. But here they were, Emi holding onto him, their legs entangled in a heap, half covered by no less than three blankets, basking in the feeling that they were already late to class, and might not even go back today.

Emi's shirt was bundled up nearly to her waist, and his hand had been on the bare flesh of her back ever since he woke up, his fingertips under the elastic band of her pajama bottoms. Or at least he hoped that's what it was. She was soft, not in a soft like a pillow, or that she was fat, or in any way that was negative, she was just soft in the nicest way possible. But that was hardly the best or more pressing part that left him unable to sleep.

It was her. All of her. That bubbly feeling in his chest when he looked at her for the first time each day didn't hold a candle to waking up to her. Every part where their bodies touched felt like the first time that they kissed, just paused and stretched out for hours. He couldn't see her face, with any luck there was a smile, that he hadn't seen on her just yet, that would mirror all of the bliss he was feeling in this tender moment. This was why he didn't dare try to sleep again, he did not want to miss a second of this.

He took a deep breath tearing his eyes off of her seafoam green hair and looking towards the ceiling. But they'd have to get up eventually, they'd have to be decisive eventually. He still wanted to go to U.A. it wasn't the school's fault, it wasn't Eri's fault either. It was just an accident. But that wasn't the problem.

The problem was trying to undo it. Undoing it meant that this Emi, the one that snored like a cat purred into his chest would go back to being Ms. Joke. The teacher, pro hero, semi-functional adult, and a different person than this Emi.

People change, different events cause them to grow in different ways. He knew that all too well, he wasn't the same person he was a year ago. He might not even be the same person in a year from now. It wasn't about simply being selfish and wanting his girlfriend to stay his girlfriend, though that was a large part of it, it was about giving this Emi a chance to grow. And not knowing what would happen if they did try to turn her back.

Would she be the same Emi? Would she go back to Ms. Joke? Would she end up as an entirely different Emi? Her fears were justified.

She moved like a glacier, her hand extending outward to his free hand that had been resting on his stomach, so close to her bare midriff. He didn't move, he didn't breath, or speak. Just watch her as she lifted his hand up, then dropped it. She did it once more, letting his hand hang in the air like she was testing something and dropped it again.

The third time she grabbed his wrist moving his hand towards flopping it in the air. She paused, his hand floating just above her chest, then let go. He did not let his hand drop that time.

"Faker," she twisted her torso to look at him. There it was, that smile that he had waited all morning to see. The smile of the first thing her seeing being him. It was burned into his memory forever more, the only blemish at this moment was the tear stains that ran down her cheeks like river beds in a drought. She pressed her chest against his as she inched closer. "If you pretended to be asleep you could have touched my boob. Better be careful or else I'll think you think I'm not attractive. Besides, you're almost fondling my butt with the other hand.

"I umm, well." His face felt hot. Really hot. It had something to do with the fact that his really hot, well proportioned, beautiful, flirty, girlfriend was mocking him for not groping her, and the fact that she was smiling at him with that smile and her eyes demanded just enough attention that he almost didn't feel her bare breasts pressing into his chest.

Another thing he discovered last night was that she didn't sleep with a bra. That one was really important.

"You have a beautiful smile?"

She hummed pushing forward once more, her arms sliding up and around his neck. Smacking her lips as her head inched up towards him until he was lost in a forest of green. "Good answer."

Each time they had kissed it felt different in a new and wonderful way. Their first kiss, once the guilt was rid from him was a great way to say goodnight, their second kiss filled him to the brim with giddiness. And this third kiss, this soft tender 'good morning' that he lost himself in, was one so simplistic and promised him a wonderful day.

His hands were wrapped around her waist by the time their meandering kiss came to an end.

She pulled away still smiling at him. "I'm a little disappointed that you didn't try anything like you didn't even try to cop a feel, I mean you have your frankly hot as hell girlfriend cuddling and clinging to you all night, she distressed, desperate for attention, and not wearing a bra. Instead, you just hold her, try to make her laugh and remind her of how sweet you are, over and over again." She sighed into a smile again. "But that's what I like about you Izuku, you're sweet, kind, and caring."

"I didn't want to take advantage of you." His hands were on her hips as he studied her carefully, noting the twinge in her smile and the glimmer in her eyes. It was almost like she hadn't cried at all yesterday. That the reason why they were on his mom's couch was that it was just an extension of their date.

She wiped at his chest, still smiling. Hips wiggling like a cat about to pounce. "Take advantage of me? Izuku, if I use you as a pillow and a drool sponge, I'm taking advantage of you. But don't worry, I'll be sure to corrupt you eventually."

"Corrupt me?"

"Yep." Her hands were on bothside of him now, her body flat against his, and her hair took on a mind of its own, entangling him like a root snare. "I highly doubt that you'll be able to resist me if you come home and I'm wearing an apron."

"An apron? Are we married in this scenario?"

"We could be but this is going to happen when we move into our first apartment together." She kissed his neck. That was a very different kiss, where the others were a warm spring breeze, this one was a fire that raged through his body.

"What's-" He gasped when she sucked on his neck. "What's so naughty about an apron?"

"I want you to imagine me in an apron, greeting you when you come home." She switched sides, his body losing all feeling aside from that poisonous kiss. The next one burned like Ice. Why was she so good at kissing?

"Okay, I'm coming home, and you're in an apron-"

"And nothing else."

"What?"

She sat up on his stomach, pushing the air out of him, as she ran a finger through her long hair. "I'm in an apron, a green and polka-dot one with white frills." He thought it was pink. "And nothing else."

And nothing else. Emi, in an apron, and nothing else. That would mean that she was. The realization made him gasp and look up at her, his face reaching all new levels of red. "Oh."

"Oh," She leaned down kissing him on the nose. "Oh, is right."

A knock came from the door. It was loud enough to almost sound like pounding, but it was even, and with purpose.

Emi's pout still managed to look happy. "Maybe they'll-"

The pounding was louder and faster.

"Blah," She rolled back into the blankets and wrapped herself uptight. Leaving him rather cold without her and the blankets. "You should go see who that is. I'll be over here, trying not to die of embarrassment."

"You get embarrassed?"

"When people don't laugh at my jokes, oh wait." Her head popped out of blankets, smiling like she was trying to show off all her teeth. "That's always! I bet you could embarrass me if you pushed my hair behind my ear, looked me in the eyes and said I'm beautiful, but that's just a hunch."

He'll have to remember to try that.

The floor was cold against his bare feet, his slippers were probably tossed somewhere around the couch. The pounding came from the door again before he could reach it.

He opened it a crack. It was Aizawa-sensei. He looked like he hadn't gotten any sleep at all. He looked as tired as Izuku felt now that Emi wasn't teasing him. Which meant he looked like crap, even by his own poor standards of optimism.

"You're late to class," his voice was rough like he had spent all night coughing.

"Shouldn't you be teaching right now?"

"Toshinori is covering for me." He scratched at the back of his neck, popping it. The bags under his eyes were worse now. "Can I talk to Emi?"

"Why?"

He let out a groan that was closer to a growl, before he sighed, shoulders slumping and looking like a broken man. "To apologize."

That was a start. "I'll ask her."

He shut the door, the latch snapping into place echoing like thunder. When he turned he saw Emi standing at the end of the corridor still covered in the blankets, her smile was gone, but she nodded at him. "Open it."

The silence between Emi and their sensei hung in the air like a looming storm, he stood between them, acting as a mediator. He still wanted to punch Aizawa-sensei for making her cry. But that wasn't what a hero should do. This was for the best.

Just when the silence was about to reach lethal doses of awkward, their sensei bowed at the waist.

"Emi Fukukado, I failed you as your teacher. I continued to think of you as just a younger Joke instead of my student. Not once did I consider your feelings on the matter, and I believed I was acting in your best interest. I've come to realize the error of my ways." He kept his head down, breath even. "I ask for your forgiveness, and that you continue as one of my students."

"You won't force me to turn into 'your Ms. Joke?'" Emi asked, her voice muffled by the blankets that covered her mouth. She was enjoying this. That was easy to tell. "You admit that doing that would be making me not exist."

There was a pause. "It was a mistake. One I will not repeat."

"Good, but I'll come back on a condition." The blanket fell as she walked up towards him, eyes dancing even as she kept her gaze square on Aizawa. "I'm in a relationship with Izuku, you'll let us ignore the dorm curfew."

Aizawa's head snapped up and he glared at both of them. "As your teacher I refuse." Then he sighed into a growl. "However, I will be, lenient, with our relationship policy as well as dorm curfew on Saturday night only."

"Deal!" Emi dropped her blankets and stuck her hand out in peace. "You're lucky I'm a cheerful and understanding person, otherwise I might hold a grudge that will end up in a series of nasty pranks that will leave you hating life by the time I graduate."

"I look forward to your many years of detention, and being a pain in my neck." They shook hands.

AN: I know last time I updated I said there was another fic but there's also one this time! Go check out Ups and Downs! Izuku x Nejire! They'll become a focus once I finish something!

BUT REVIEW HERE FIRST!