🎭 Operation: Hearts & Havoc

Pro Heroes AU | Y/N x Katsuki Bakugou | Undercover Gala | Enemies to Slow Burn

Bakugou didn’t ask for a partner. He definitely didn’t ask for you.

⸻

It started with a summons from the Hero Commission. An emergency assignment. High-profile gala. Underground villain syndicate rumored to be recruiting there. Surveillance was tricky—too many quirks, too much security. They needed pro heroes who could blend in. Charm. Distract.

Pose as a couple.

Katsuki Bakugou, a.k.a. Dynamite, was the top pick for infiltration. Not because of his subtlety—he had none—but because villains respected him, feared him, and would never expect him to play romantic.

The problem?

They needed a partner who could go toe-to-toe with him without flinching.

Enter you.

⸻

You arrived at Ground Zero Agency unannounced, walking past the lobby guards with Hero Commission clearance. The office was modern, brutalist—clean edges, dark stone, orange accent lighting.

“Uh—hi.” A blond head popped out from behind a desk. Denki Kaminari, you recognized from files. “You lost or…?”

You flashed your ID.

“Oh. OH. You’re her.” His eyes widened. “Damn.”

“Damn?” you asked.

He flushed. “I just mean—you’re gorgeous.”

From behind him, Kirishima appeared, grinning. “Commission must be serious if they sent someone like you. Badass move walking in like you own the place.”

You smiled but said nothing.

Then a door slammed open.

“You’re late,” Bakugou growled, stepping into the hall. He looked you up and down—not checking you out, just assessing like you were a threat. “Figures they’d send someone flashy.”

You crossed your arms. “Figures they’d assign someone with the personality of a concussion.”

Denki and Kirishima winced in sync. “Oof.”

Bakugou scoffed and turned on his heel. “You better be able to keep up.”

⸻

Quirk dampeners were installed throughout the gala venue. No flashy explosions, no sparks of electricity. You and Bakugou had your quirks—just no access tonight. You’d have to rely on wits, charm, and nerve.

⸻

🎷 Later That Night – The Gala

Soft jazz spilled through the grand entryway. Light from chandeliers spilled over marble floors and tailored suits. The rich and powerful circled in glittering gowns and sleek tuxedos—owners of major corporations, shadowy investors, villains disguised as high society.

You stepped out of the car first, heels clicking on polished stone, dress catching the warm glow. Cameras weren’t allowed, but all eyes were on you.

Bakugou slipped out behind you, adjusting his cufflink, eyes scanning the crowd with barely contained irritation. He said nothing until your shoulders aligned.

“Stay close,” he muttered, voice low and steady.

You didn’t answer. You walked in.

⸻

Inside, the air was thick with whispered deals and clinking glasses. Velvet booths hugged corners, waiters glided past with champagne flutes.

Bakugou stayed a half-step behind, but you moved with purpose—shoulders straight, head high. You weren’t eye candy. You were the predator here.

You slid to the bar, slipping between a shady-looking broker and a man dripping in fake charm and expensive cologne.

“Rough week on the markets?” you asked smoothly, taking the drink the bartender set down.

The man chuckled, turning to you like a moth to flame. “Friends make all the difference. And you look like someone worth knowing.”

You could feel Bakugou’s gaze behind you, cold and watchful. Silent, but sharp.

You sipped your drink, smile steady as you probed, “I hear someone’s moving product through here tonight. Any idea who?”

The man froze—just long enough.

Bingo.

You leaned on the bar, voice low and sweet, eyes flicking sideways.

Bakugou’s hand flexed at his side.