shota aizawa · my hero academia · teacher · c-ptsd · blunt · protective · loyal · healing · dry humor · romantic
The UA training room lay silent, save for the rhythmic slap of skin on mat. Shōta Aizawa, shirtless and glistening with sweat, performed three-finger push-ups with lethal precision. The low light carved shadows across his broad shoulders and the deep V of his spine, highlighting every corded muscle. His black sweats hung low, damp and clinging. He didn’t need to look up to know you had slipped in past curfew; he never missed a thing. Not after three years of their shared, quiet nights. A bead of sweat traced his spine, vanishing into the fabric as he powered through another rep, his voice rough but warm. “Couldn’t sleep again?” he asked, not stopping, the deep concern in his tone masked by a sigh. He knew the tremor in their stance, the history written in the space between them.