| SNEAKY LITTLE CAT | AIZAWA SHOTA | PART ONE
summary: for weeks now, aizawa's been haunted by a cat burglar sneaking into jewelry shops at night. every confrontation ends in this strange tension in the air - and he just doesn't know what to do.
pairing: thief! reader / aizawa
wc: 3.1k
tags: f! reader, fluff, enemies to lovers, SET POST MHA ENDING (SO SPOILERS), canon divergence (aizawa continues working as a hero part time), so much tension wow, ur inspired by #1 baddie cat burglar nami and catwoman, literally everyone wants you two to be together but aizawa is in denial about your outlandish chemistry
"This is some kind of stupid joke." Aizawa grimaced, staring at his phone as the loudest voice in the universe blared through the speaker. Beneath the building he was perched on, the jewelry store alarm was still blaring, police officers stepping over shattered glass to take photos.
"Nope!" Present Mic sang. Aizawa could practically hear his grin. "She's your case, after all."
"I offered her to you." The underground hero squinted at the sidewalk beneath him, the broken windowpane glistening beneath the streetlamp as if mocking him, imitating stolen jewels.
"Well." Mic coughed. "You guys just have so much chemistry, you know? This is the first time since the war that you've made it on the news."
"Yeah. And you'd think it would be for something important, not some stupid ridiculousness about people noticing the "sexual tension" between me and a petty thief!"
"Eraserhead!" Tsukauchi called from below, waving his phone and pointing at it.
Aizawa grumbled, swiping into his messages app.
Another break-in. Two streets down from here, an antique store.
This had to be a joke. A thief was what you were - not a big time villain. Eraserhead didn't want to seem like he was above this work. He was missing an eye and a leg, on the verge of retirement, and his muscles groaned every time he did any activity more than walk.
But a cat burglar? One that flirted with him every night, nonetheless. God, what a nightmare of a job, ending up in the papers every day because everyone was saying it was "about damn time" he settled down.
"I have to go, Mic." The hero sighed, thumb hovering over the red 'hang up' button.
"Your lady's calling, huh?" Mic practically giggled on the other end. "Have fun! Hey, you should ask for her number-"
Click. He tucked his phone into his pocket, before taking a running start to hop off the rooftop to the one adjacent to it. Steadily making his way through the city, he glanced downwards at the police cars, lights blaring as they raced alongside him on the road.
Aizawa could see the antique store up above, windows shattered and wood strewn about the ground. The burglar was already gone. He sighed, moving to jump off the roof.
"Hiya, Eraser." A sly voice whispered in his ear, breath tickling the side of his face.
He shouted in surprise, leaping forwards and holding his face. The dark night seemed to close on him - there was nobody there.
"Do I make you nervous, Eraserhead?" You purred behind him.
He spun around, clicking his tongue in aggravation. "Cat burglar."
You hummed in satisfaction, sleek latex suit and dark cat mask shining in the moonlight. "I missed you, Sho."
"Don't call me that." He hissed, unraveling his capture cloth, fabric whipping about wildly in the wind. "I'm sick of you."
"That's mean, Eraser. We've been meeting like this for months now." You teased, tossing him a small sack of your finds tonight. "Here. For you, so you don't go back empty handed."
"I don't need your pity." He muttered, going to throw it back.
"Aw, so you want me to keep it?" You laughed, hand outstretched. "A gift from a man as handsome as you - that's something I could never turn down."
He clenched his jaw tightly, before swallowing his pride and tucking the satchel into his utility belt.
"Seen the newspaper recently?" You hummed, taking a seat on the rooftop. "Seems like people think we're a good match. What do you think, lovey?"
"Don't call me that." Aizawa Shota was on the verge of an aneurysm. "The news will grasp at whatever they can get their hands on. There's nothing going on between the two of us."
"No?" You responded, resting your chin on your closed fist. "So we're not having a super cute midnight chat right now?"
Quickly, he darted towards you, capture cloth rapidly expanding and contorting, seeking out your limbs like targeted missiles. Agile as a fox, you weaved your body in between them, dodging languidly and effortlessly.
His hand appeared an inch from your face, clenched in quiet aggravation. You caught his hand in yours, running a teasing finger down his knuckle. "Ooh. The hands of a hard worker. You've got some rough cuticles-"
With more effort than he'd ever needed before, he planted his right steel leg into the floor, swinging his other leg upwards and straight at your face, you fell into a back handspring, swiftly leaping out of his range.
"Come on, now." You sighed, pretending to dust yourself off. "I don't take pleasure in beating up the handicapped. We were having such a peaceful night."
"Stop acting like this is normal." He huffed tiredly. It was clear that he wasn't the hero he once was - he probably should've taken everyone's advice to retire.
"It's late, Eraser." You ignored him, your lithe figure backing off to the edge of the building, teetering dangerously. "I'll see you another night, okay?"
"Hey-!" He leaped forward to reach for you, but you pushed yourself off the ledge, falling to the ground. "HEY!"
He looked over the edge, but you were gone.
The next day, he stopped by the police station and turned in the small sack of jewelry you'd handed him - your spoils from the antique store.
"This wasn't all that was missing." Sansa said pointing at the long list of stolen items.
"It was all that I could gather." Was Aizawa's tired, dry reply. "Sorry."
"No worries." Sansa shrugged. "You're the only person that's managed to get anything back, anyhow."
For some reason, that aggravated Aizawa to no end. He sucked on his cheek, grinded his teeth, worked his mouth to the bone while racking his mind as to why you seemed to have it out for him.
"Don't overthink it." Sansa's voice broke in, Tsukauchi now right next to him.
"Hey, be honest with me." Tsukauchi grinned at the almost retired pro hero. "You've seen the headlines, right? After what we've been through, stealing is pretty tame. Do you think she likes you?"
Aizawa's teeth drew blood from his lip, and Tsukauchi swallowed heavily. Sansa left the desk, making an excuse of getting coffee.
Did you like him? The question left him practically seething with rage, fingers drumming into the desk right next to the file full of your blurry pictures.
"...Probably." Was all he managed to push out, voice strained and tight like someone had reached into his throat and squeezed his vocal chords.
"And...?" Tsukauchi nudged him lightly.
"And nothing." The hero grunted, pushing your file away. "If there was more to the sentence, I would've said so."
Tsukauchi shrugged, clapping Aizawa on the shoulder. "Hey, teach. All I'm saying is that you've done your fair share of work. She's never hurt anyone in her line of work, and all she is is a bit of hassle for us. You know for a fact she goes out of her way to steal when nobody's around so she doesn't have to fight anyone."
"Mm." Aizawa mumbled, thinking about your conversation last night. "It's not like she isn't capable of it, that's for sure."
"Get into a little scuffle, did we?" The detective grinned, receiving a shove from the teacher. Aizawa thought about your words.
I don't take pleasure in beating up the handicapped. We were having such a nice night.
"You know she called me handicapped?" Aizawa huffed, tone bordering on amusement.
"Did you like it?" Sansa chimed in, returning with a cup of coffee for everyone.
Aizawa swiped the cup and left.
"Hi, Mr. Aizawa!" Midoriya beamed the moment his former teacher walked into his office. "It's good to see you. Had an eventful night?"
Aizawa's eye ticked, just a little bit. "Nothing out of the ordinary. How's your class behaving this year?"
"They just might be better than us!" Midoriya laughed, hand scratching his head in slight amusement. "Come on, Mr. Aizawa. You don't have to play coy with me."
Midoriya tossed his teacher the morning paper. Aizawa didn't bother catching it, just letting it land on the floor as he sipped his coffee and glanced at the tile.
Eraserhead Once Again Spotted with Mysterious Cat Burglar!
He bit a chunk out of his cheek. "Midoriya. Don't you ever bring this up to me again."
The greenette pouted a bit, scrawling a few notes on a student's paper and promptly ignoring his colleagues' warning. "Mr. Aizawa, I'm honestly really happy for you. The war was hard on everyone, and now that things are settling back into their normal groove, it's nice to see you getting active again."
"Don't call it that. I'm doing my job."
"Sure, sure!" Midoriya smiled, moving on to the next paper. "All I'm saying is that she's really quite attractive, and I think it'd be good for you to get some excitement in your life. Sleep can only bring so much entertainment, you know?"
"I used to be your teacher, Midoriya." Aizawa said dryly. "The last thing I want is to hear you talk about is how attractive my case is. Plus, she’s much too old for you.”
Aizawa did his best to refrain from calling Midoriya a curse not appropriate for a classroom setting. "Have you been spending time around Yamada? Because if you have, it's really showing."
"He stops by." Midoriya shrugs. "Not that I need him to prove how compatible you and the cat are - the whole city knows it. If you think me and Mr. Mic are too much, make sure you don't run into All Might anytime soon. He's really invested in the two of you!"
Aizawa 'gently' crumpled his coffee cup, throwing it into the trash from across the room. Watching Midoriya grade papers, he couldn't help but feel proud of the boy for becoming an educator and following his steps. He felt an overwhelming sense of pride for the rest of the class too, for funding gear to allow Deku back into the field.
"I guess being retired means you have nothing better to do, huh?" Aizawa huffed, but he'd be lying if there wasn't a fond amusement hiding in his tone. "Even more proof that I need to stay active."
"I wouldn't say that, Mr. Aizawa." For just a second, Midoriya's eyes ran over Aizawa's face, gaze lingering on his eye, before darting down to his prosthetic leg. "You've done enough, don't you think?"
"Do you think you've done enough, Midoriya?" Aizawa replied simply. That shut the younger teacher up, and he nibbled on his lip gently as if to prevent himself from saying anything else.
"Young Midoriya!" The world's most familiar voice called from the other side of the classroom door. Aizawa refrained from picking up Midoriya's table and flinging it at the entrance as All Might bursted in. "Oh-ho!"
The withered, blond man was absolutely ecstatic to see Aizawa. His pupil suppressed a laugh, hand muffling his giggles and snorts. "Shota! I see you've got a new girlfriend!"
"New?" He retorted. "Like there was one to begin with."
Sure, he'd had flings here and there. Never anything really serious, since hero work (especially as an underground hero) was extremely volatile, random, and would upheave daily life for a normal citizen. Nothing ever truly worked out.
"I hear you're a bit against the idea." Toshinori smiled meekly. "What I can't understand is why. She really seems like quite the charmer."
"Oh, yes." Aizawa snorted. "My most ideal type - a midnight thief who causes me problems."
"Why do you always focus on the thief part?" Midoriya wondered. "I'm sure she's her own person outside of the thieving. If the war has taught us anything, it's that everyone has a reason for their actions. Has she ever moved to hurt you?"
Aizawa fell silent, remaining leg bouncing up and down as he thought. No, you hadn't - you were always quite prudent about ensuring his safety.
Toshinori nudged the forgotten newspaper on the floor beside Aizawa. The headline almost screamed at him, alongside the photo of him with his capture tape swirling around you as you dodged left and right, outfit sleek as a cat.
"Try your best to put the thief thing out of your mind, just for this moment." The former number one hero prompted. "Just for this one time, think about it. From the interactions you've had - does she care about you?"
"She does." Aizawa sighed, rubbing his temple. "But I don't see how that matters-"
The room fell into a rigid silence, tension wavering like a newly struck guitar string.
"Don't be ridiculous." He replied after half a minute, bending down to pick up the newspaper and hand it back to Midoriya.
The master and pupil only glanced at each other slyly, opting to say no more.
Aizawa stood up, dusting off his clothes and tucking his hands into his pockets. "I'm off. Going to get another coffee, then take a nap. Got another shift tonight."
"Looking forward to it?" Toshinori called after the man, who was already shutting the door.
He went to the cafe around the block, digging in his pockets for his wallet as he approached the register.
"Just a black coffee, please." He requested, finally getting his hands on his elusive leather wallet.
A metal object fell to the floor, rolling behind his foot. He raised an eyebrow. He didn't have anything in his pockets that would sound like that. He didn't even carry coins.
"Here you go, mister." A voice said behind him. He grabbed the receipt from the barista and turned around.
A woman he'd never seen before was holding a ring - the stone imbedded in it changed color in the light.
Shit. It must've been part of the pouch the cat burglar had given him, and fallen out before he handed it into the police station.
"Sir?" The voice called again. He looked up, putting a face to the sound.
You blinked back at him innocently, gently grabbing his hand and unfurling his fingers to slip the ring back into his hand. "Try not to lose that, sir. It looks expensive."
"Ah - right. Thank you." He replied, still looking at your face. Every single bone in his body screamed that he knew you - but he'd never seen your face before.
Your arms were behind you, hands locked behind your back as you peered back at him. Your eyes twinkled in a way that he swore he recognized, your mouth curled slyly into a smirk that irked him to his very core.
God, you were one attractive woman - but he didn't know you.
"See something you like?" You crooned, tilting your head to the side.
"..." He blinked, before tucking the ring back into his pocket. "Sorry. I must've confused you for someone else."
"I guess I just have one of those faces." You smiled, canines flashing in the sunlight that streamed in through the windows.
"...Right." He mused, before a barista called his name down the line. "Goodbye, then."
"Bye, Sho." You hummed, turning on your heel and walking out the door.
He thought nothing of it as he picked up his coffee and started to follow you out the door. He caught a whiff of your perfume, lingering in the air, and everything that felt wrong suddenly felt right.
Nobody called him Sho. Nobody but one, and nobody looked at him like that except for one, bothersome burglar.
He burst out of the coffee shop like a lunatic, hands cupped around his mouth, piping cup of caffeine forgotten inside. "CAT! COME BACK!"
He grimaced, a pain shooting up his amputated leg as metal grinded against skin. He looked left and right, desperately hoping you were still there.
He sprinted to the police station, ignoring the pain he felt in his leg and the way he practically had to drag it against the pavement. He slammed his shoulder into the door, arriving as if he was there to issue an arrest warrant, and stumbled over to Tsukauchi and Sansa's joint desk, huffing slightly.
Pulling the ring out his pocket, he threw it onto the desk, and was met with raised brows of slight confusion.
"She gave herself away." Aizawa coughed, slamming his closed fist into his chest to clear his lungs out. "I don't know why. I know what she looks like."
"What?" Sansa blinked. "Why the hell would she do that?"
"I don't know, why the fuck would I know-" Aizawa grunted, as if something was lodged in his throat.
"Maybe it wasn't her." Tsukauchi thought, picking up the ring and slipping it into an evidence bag. He called someone over, handing the bag to the officer and asking him to run it for prints. Aizawa knew nothing would come of it. "Maybe she sent someone else on her behalf."
"No." Aizawa refuted, thinking back to your encounter. The tips of his ears flushed the slightest shade of pink. Your hair. Your piercing eyes. The slow, mocking drawl of your sentences. That stupid smile of yours, the way you stood - your figure. "It was definitely her."
The detective's eyes raked over the heroes face, eyes lingering. "...Huh. Would you look at that."
Aizawa clicked his tongue. "I just ran here, I'm warm."
"You're thirty-nine years old and deciding to lie to a police officer." Sansa mused. "That's new."
Tsukauchi handed him a pencil and a paper. "Draw what you remember."
The hero pulled up a chair, and for the next few minutes, all that could be heard was the ringing of telephones in the background and a light skritch - skritch as Aizawa worked.
"This is a little too detailed for someone you claim not to be attracted to." Sansa pointed out. "What is she, a model by day and a thief by night?"
"This is just what she looks like." Aizawa grumbled, working on her hair. "It's detailed so we can find her."
"Aizawa, you know that once we really move in on her, she's going to go to jail, right?" Tsukauchi frowned. "For a few years, at least. Vandalism, burglary, theft - even small charges rack up with time."
The man's heart twisted in a way he hadn't expected it to. He paused his sketching, and his jaw tightened as he glanced at Tsukauchi.
Then he continued drawing. "Yes. That's the whole point of this, isn't it?" He mumbled, finishing the sketch and handing it over.
"... If you're sure." Tsukauchi sighed, getting up out of his desk and heading towards their facial analysis department.
"You're going to regret this, Aizawa." Sansa huffed. "I'm sure you could've taken care of this privately."
Aizawa clicked his tongue, thinking of your snarky grin in the cafe. "She can take care of herself."
