Aizawa Oneshots

Closer

HI Y'ALL!!! Welcome to the 99th chapter of Aizawa oneshots! I can't believe we are THIS close!! I have concluded the poll from the previous chapter, and for the 100th one, I will be writing an Aizawa x Hizashi fic! Yippeee!!! 

Anyways, here's another little chapter for y'all to sink your teeth into for the time being!

If y'all wanna see the other poll options, let me know in the comments <3 I am also very active on JAI, so check me out there! Oh, oh! Requests are always open (might've lost the others because of the move...) but yeah.... </3

Also... might be thinking of making an All Might x Reader fic... what do y'all think?

Enjoy your food!

---

The U.A. faculty lounge has been transformed into something festive, unrecognizable even. Lights are strung across the ceiling, their twinkling casting faint shadows along the walls. Platters of finger foods line the long tables, a small buffet tucked in a corner, and music hums through the speakers, cheerful and light.

Aizawa leans against the far wall, arms crossed, hair mussed as though he's spent the day preparing for a mission rather than a party. He scans the room with quiet detachment, sharp eyes catching the movements of colleagues mingling, laughing, holding plates and glasses in ways that all scream "fun" ... and he couldn't be less impressed.

You're here, too. Begrudgingly, certainly, but present nonetheless. You keep to the edges, moving through small clusters only when approached, a polite nod here and a soft laugh there. You aren't particularly trying to avoid him, nor are you seeking him out, and yet... the air between you two is taut.

Not that anyone else didn't notice.

The whispers start almost immediately. Midnight's voice carries across the room, light and teasing. "I swear, every time they're in the same room, you could cut the tension with a knife!"

Cementoss glances up from his drink, smirking faintly. "It's pretty obvious, isn't it?"

From behind the buffet, Mic throws his hands up dramatically. "I mean, come on! You can feel it from across the room! They're practically vibrating with unspoken words!"

And above it all, Nezu's quiet chuckle seems to echo from some hidden corner. Everyone else just shakes their heads, enjoying the moment of quiet chaos they have stumbled upon: two adults who have clearly danced around each other for months, maybe years, now trapped in the same space and unable or unwilling to address it.

Meanwhile, Aizawa's gaze has found yours again, fleeting and careful. You're adjusting the cuff of your sleeve, glancing at the snack table without much interest, yet something in the way you move pulls his attention inescapably. He feels that familiar knot of... something in his chest. Irritation? Concern? Or perhaps something more dangerous to his carefully maintained detachment.

He sighs softly, tilting his head, and you catch the motion. Your eyes flick to his for a moment before returning to the room, and somewhere deep inside him, he hates how much that small gesture affects him.

It's at that moment that the game is suggested.

Seven Minutes in Heaven.

The room buzzes with excitement and laughter echoes through the walls. Hands clap and someone nearly knocks over a drink in their enthusiasm. Aizawa's eyes narrow as the crowd chants aloud, the music fading slightly in the background.

And then it happens.

Names are drawn. Slowly, deliberately. Teasingly.

When he hears it, he barely reacts at first – the crowd just pulled his name. His eyes flick towards the box, expecting some other unlucky soul to be paired with him. Then he sees it.