Your body ached before sunrise.
You dragged yourself to the gym, half-dead, hair in a messy bun and hoodie thrown over your sleep clothes. No one else was there.
Except him.
Aizawa stood near the mats, stretching.
He wore a black compression shirt and cargo pants. His hair was tied back in a loose tail. You saw the muscles ripple under his sleeves. He looked more dangerous half-dressed than most villains you'd fought.
"You're late," he said.
You checked the clock. "It's 5:59."
He smirked. "That's late for me."
You rolled your eyes and dropped your bag. "What are we working on?"
He gestured to the mat. "Your quirk. Close combat. And discipline."
"Discipline," you repeated.
"You have none."
You met him on the mat, smirking. "Wanna test that theory?"
Something dark flickered in his eyes. Something... thrilling.
He didn't answer. Just moved.
The first hour was brutal. He didn't go easy. Every move he taught was paired with a correction—hands on your waist, your shoulders, your thighs. He didn't linger, but it felt like he could.
"You think too much," he muttered, knocking you off your feet.
"I think just enough."
"Then why are you on your ass?"
You growled and lunged. He blocked you again, flipping you hard enough to steal your breath.
When you hit the mat the fifth time, he stood over you, panting.
"You're strong," he admitted. "But you're undisciplined. You fight like you have something to prove."
You swallowed hard. "Maybe I do."
His gaze softened for a fraction of a second. Then he offered you a hand.
You didn't take it.
You stood on your own.
That made him smirk again.
⸻
Weeks passed. Morning training became routine. You improved fast. Faster than anyone expected. Aizawa pushed you harder than any teacher had. And you craved it.
Because it wasn't just training anymore.
You were learning him.
The way his eyes lingered on you when you sparred. The subtle shift in his voice when you teased him. The way his hands hesitated before touching you for corrections now.
There was tension. Cracking. Something unspoken. But not for long.
YOU ARE READING
Shadows between the lines (Aizawa X student reader
FanfictionYou were just another student at U.A.-until he looked at you differently. Eraserhead was supposed to be off-limits, but late nights, stolen glances, and shared secrets made that impossible. The tension is electric, the rules are strict, and the desi...
