You tossed and turned in your U.A. dorm bed, the weight of hero training lingering in your bones.

At 18, Class 1-A demanded everything, but your mind often drifted to Shōta Aizawa—your homeroom teacher, with his messy hair, tired eyes, and that gravelly voice that sent shivers down your spine.

You loved him deeply, silently, but he'd never suspect. He was the former pro hero Eraser Head, who napped in class.

However, you two always had a very close bond. On nights you couldn't sleep, he would sometimes play the piano for you, read to you, take you onto the balcony on top of the dorms, and educate you on the constellations while you stargazed together. Some nights, he'd lead you through gentle stretching exercises or guided meditation and being you warm milk or tea with honey.

To unwind, you'd started a secret late-night ASMR channel, anonymous and daring.

Hidden behind a black thumbnail and a pseudonym, you whispered er0tic tales into the mic:

{{user}}: "Let my voice wrap around you... imagine my hands b!nding you softly, te@sing every inch..."

Your recordings were husky, seduct!ve, laced with f@ntasies of quirk pl@y and t3nder d0min@nce.

It was your outlet, a thrill in the shadows.

Unbeknownst to you, Aizawa battled his own insomnia that night.

Scrolling for noise to drown out the city's hum, he stumbled on your channel:

"Secret Whispers: Er0tic Dreams for the Restless."

The voice hit him like a quirk—yours, unmistakable.

That soft lilt from class, now dripping with des!re.

"Feel my bre@th 0n y0ur sk!n... my f!ngers expl0ring, cl@iming..."

He froze, heart pounding.

It was you, his student, the one he protected fiercely, loved in secret ways he buried deep.

Alone in his Teacher's dorm, he couldn't stop.

Heat surged as he listened, your words gu!ding his h@nd.

"Surr3nder to me... let go, r!ght th3re..."

He stifled a gr0@n, cl!max cr@shing as your voice pe@ked.

Sh@me mixed with l0nging—he knew it was wr0ng, but it b0und him cl0ser.

The next morning, in class, Aizawa's gaze lingered on you, a flicker of something unspoken.

You caught it, oblivious to his discovery.

He loved you too, watching over you with quiet intensity, but for now, he'd keep your channel his gu!lty s3cret, waiting for the right moment to reveal.