Mha Scenario - Blog Posts

hiii can i get a scenario of class 1a having to do some body guard duty for some rich families wedding, and bakugous crush not being able to go due to family reasons. when they arrived they found out it was actually the readers family, how would bakugou and the rest react thanks hehe

Dance With Me Tonight (Bakugou x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Bakugou is pissed after he’s assigned to be a bodyguard along with the rest of the class for one of the richest families in Japan. He didn’t even want to go since you, his crush, weren’t gonna be there! But wait… surely that’s not you on the dance floor with another guy? 

A/N: Oof, sorry this one took so long! I’m actually feeling good about it, but only time will tell. Anyways, thank you so much for this awesome request and I hope you like it! (Side note: I’m just gonna leave this here in case anyone wants to listen to it while reading👀)

Word count: 2706

        This was ridiculous.

        The rented black and white tuxedo was itchy in unsavory places, the extravagant ballroom smelled highly of old lady perfume, and there were so many rich bastards. 

        Bakugou wasn’t even sure why he came. Though his class had been requested to guard the wedding and its reception, there was really no point. 

        You weren’t there. When Aizawa had broken the news that Class 1A was requested to guard one of the richest families in Japan, you were the only person with a legitimate excuse to schmooze your way out of the job. 

        “I can’t go, family’s got stuff tonight.” 

        Bakugou gritted his teeth at the thought. The room was dimly lit, the only source coming from the chandeliers hanging above as a band played slow songs at the front of the room. Couples wrapped each other up in their arms and rocked leisurely to the deep crooning of the main singer, and it was no surprise that the newlyweds were in the center of it all. 

        Envy swelled up in his throat. Everyone had someone tonight. Even the green midget had the annoying pink girl, both scouting the room while giggling and chatting. 

        Why did I even fucking come?

        “-Bakugou… Bakugou!” Kirishima waved his hand in front of the blond’s face, waiting for some kind of reaction. Finally, the latter shook himself into reality, glancing away from the murmuring crowd. 

        “What?”

        “Are you okay? You’ve been zoned out for like twenty minutes…” 

        Bakugou rolls his eyes and pushes past the redhead, once more in search of that abandoned balcony he had spotted earlier. “I just don’t know why we even had to be here. No villain’s gonna attack a crowd of superpowered rich fucks.” 

        He allows his gaze to wander the room as he strides, searching for something to do to fend off the oncoming boredom. 

        “Oh come on, Bakugou, wouldn’t that be the perfect time to test your skills? Nobody said you had to wait for the rich people to fight the villains.”

        “Yeah yeah,” he grumbles, crimson orbs still scouring the party.

        “Plus, it’s their wedding day. They don’t want to tear their nice dresses and suits. Think smart here, my friend.” 

        “Whatever.” 

        “GUYS GUYS!” A squeaky voice Bakugou can only connect to that of the perverted blond who always trails behind him around school reaches the boys’ ears. Two hands grab one of each’s shoulders as Kaminari slips between the pair, obviously eager to share some gossip. “Guess who I just saw all dolled up right here?” 

        The electric boy doesn’t even have enough time for a grand reveal; Bakugou’s ears have already perked for other dramatic whispers. 

        “Hold on, guys, is that YN?” 

        “No way, she said she was gonna be busy toni- holy shit it is!”

        At this point, the tense blond isn’t even trying to hide his eavesdropping. Shrugging the hand off his shoulder, Bakugou sticks close to the wall as he stomps over to the chattering pair, who just so happen to be Mina and Toru. Both stick out like sore thumbs in glittering, hot pink dresses among collections of no-doubt expensive pastel chiffon. 

        “Where?” he barks, leaving the girls to squeal at the sudden intrusion. Mina is the first to recover, and as she turns to him a smug glint flashes through her eyes. With a nod of her head, she gestures to the crowd. 

        “Down there in the red dress.” His gaze travels in said direction. “She’s dancing with a boy.” 

        The word leaves Bakugou’s mind in scrambles. You were here, but you were also with another guy. His chest tightens at the fact and when he finally catches sight of you, a breath is caught in his throat. 

        Maroon silk hugs tightly to your every curve, outlining your admirable figure. A sweetheart neckline adorns your chest, lined with black gems that glitter every time they catch the light above. There’s a mischievous slit trailing up your leg that stops just above mid-thigh, revealing smooth skin that seems to go on forever thanks to the black stilettos on your feet. Every edge and line is stitched the same color among the tight dress, showing more and more contrasting patterns of black and red as you sway in the boy’s arms. 

        Bakugou’s sneer transforms into an all out snarl at the minimal proximity between the two of you, completely ignorant of the uncomfortable smile on your face. Your garnet-colored lips pull back forcibly, letting out a nervous lap with every word the other man whispers to you. Face framed perfectly by your curled locks, the blond can’t ignore just how hot you look right now. 

        He also can’t ignore how much he needs that guy to stop touching you. Before he can even register it, his dark shoes are slapping against the marble floor, making quick work of the distance between himself and you two. 

        In seconds, he’s silently fuming next to you both, awkwardly staring the boy down who’s shivering in his my-maid-ironed-these slacks. 

        “Move it, extra,” Bakugou hisses, vermillion eyes burning into his enemy’s skull. That’s all it really takes, as the boy rips away from you and disappears into the crowd of swaying couples around, the only evidence of his existence being the slow-to-fade tension in your shoulders. 

        “Katsuki!” you reluctantly purse your lips, disapproving but also secretly thankful. No words can fall from your lips after that, all of them stolen away at the sudden feeling of his bruising grip on your hips. Instinctively, your hands reach up to wrap around his neck, assuming the appropriate dance position considering your location in the room. 

        “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to be here?” He really hadn’t wanted to come, at least not after he heard you weren’t going to make an appearance. Some part of him feels betrayed that he had almost missed seeing you like this. 

        The room feels like it’s closing in on you. Of course you had your reasons for not wanting to admit that you were born into this crowd, but being surrounded by them is getting to you. “Can we talk about this somewhere else?” 

        Bakugou bites back the refusal on his tongue when he sees your anxious gaze, observing as it constantly flits back and forth between himself and those around you. “Okay,” he nods, squinting in the darkened room to search for… there! The balcony from earlier. He had seen it when he first entered the empty room along with the rest of Class 1A, waiting for instructions from the wedding’s director while hooking each other up with walkie talkies and earpieces. 

        “Either that’s where the villains are gonna come in or that’s where I’m gonna jump from halfway through this party.”

        “Come on.” His rough hand wraps around your wrist, dragging you along as he shoulders past offended couples who scoff at his impropriety. 

        The outside is so much more peaceful than its opposite, with the only sounds being crickets chirping in the dark forest below and melodic tunes still echoing through the ballroom’s door cracks. 

        Moon shines on the balcony like a spotlight, choosing both of you as it’s favored guests. It’s warm outside, even with the occasional gusts of wind that stick your hair to your lips, and part of you is in awe that Bakugou even found this place as beautiful as most would. Maybe you underestimated him. 

        “So why did you lie about tonight?” The blond’s voice drags you away from the balcony’s banister, urging you to turn around and lean back against it. Your gaze locks on the ground as you rub your arms shyly. 

        “It wasn’t really a lie, per se.” Bakugou snorts. 

        “Sure, and I’m not the best student in the school.” 

        “You really aren’t…”

        “WHAT WAS THAT?!” His riled shout makes you snicker, hiding a smile behind your hand. Bakugou can’t help but admire you, even when you piss him off. Though, he can’t ignore the goosebumps covering your bare arms either. The fact that the straps of your dress were about halfway down your upper arms wasn’t really helping your situation. Grinding his teeth at the stupidity of your outfit, he shrugs of his jacket and approaches you, keeping his gaze focused on the task at hand as he encompasses your shoulders with the thicker fabric. 

        “Oh, uh thanks.”

        “Yeah.”

        Awkward silence ensues, leaving the faint music of the inside to taint the normally innocent atmosphere. Bakugou doesn’t want to crack on the pressure, but part of him still wants to feel you.

        “So, erm,” he rubs the back of his neck, “do you want to dance?”

        The question makes you glance up in surprise. Was this really Bakugou? Giving you his jacket, getting all possessive and now, now asking to dance? No way. Maybe he hit his head or something. Or maybe… 

        Maybe he liked you back.

        “Sure.”

        You both shuffle towards each other, barely keeping yourselves from flushing to the fullest when you finally are close enough to touch each other again. Then the blond finally makes the first move again, quivering hands sneaking around your waist painfully slow. 

        You’re no hypocrite, being just as hesitant as he was in the act of sneaking your hands up and around his neck once more. There was something about asking to initiate the dance that made this so much more awkward than earlier, back inside when Bakugou just forced you both into it. 

        Now, it was so incredibly tedious, forcing yourselves to relax and sway to the music slowly fading out from the inside. Then at one point you threw caution to the wind and dropped your head, laying your cheek on his shoulder as you faced the wilderness beyond. 

        “So…” Bakugou finally speaks up again. His grip tightens on your hips in frustration. Obviously he heard the shakiness of his voice just as well as you had. He calms down with a clear of his throat, allowing his gaze to also fade off into the black surrounding the host building of your family’s wedding. “Why didn't you tell us?” 

        Your form tenses against his own, leaving him in a dreaded panic that you would somehow just disappear before his eyes. Then you answer.

        “I didn’t want you to see me in a bad light…”

        Bakugou shakes his head, still rocking you both back and forth in a steady pattern to the music. “YN, you shouldn’t worry about what those extras think-”

        “Not them,” you interrupt. “You.”

        “...Oh.” He’s silent for a minute, and distantly you wonder if he can feel the racing thumps that are echoing against your rib cage right now. At last he pipes up with another question. “Why?” 

        “I just,” you peel your head away to look him in the eyes, just barely avoiding biting your rouged lips, “I didn’t want you to think I was this spoiled brat who paid her way into UA. I wanted… I don’t know… I guess I wanted you to respect me.” 

        The intensity is enough to make you glance away as Bakugou stares at you in wonder. 

        “YN, I respect you in a hell of a lot of ways.” 

        From any other, the words would have left you scoffing. From Bakugou, though, they leave you redder than a cherry as you resist ducking your face into his button-up dress shirt. 

        “...Oh.” That seemed to be the response of the day. 

        The balcony returns to silence, dulled music still flowing from the party behind the doors. Bakugou’s hands, strong and firm, are still attached to your waist, encouraging the constant swaying while you keep your hands locked behind his neck. The urge to dip your fingers into his fluffy locks is taking a surprising amount of self-restraint at this moment. 

        The air of the moment is serene, strangely tranquil considering one of its residents. You feel content and relaxed for the first time in a long time, all thanks to right now. There’s no eagerness to hide yourself, nor pressure to spill any more secrets. And that’s precisely why you feel at peace with the idea of spilling your feelings now, rather than letting them out during a moment of peer pressure from others. 

        Right now, it’s just him and you, locked in an embrace and swaying underneath the moon and the stars to a faint melody of love and happiness. And it’s perfect. 

        “Katsuki…” Here we go.

        “Yeah?” His voice is soothing, strangely so compared to its usual gruffness. 

        “I like you. Like like-like you. A lot.”  

        Well fuck. That was so much more awkward than you expected it to be. In just two seconds, your mind had gone from “let’s do this” to “can I somehow burrow in his shirt pocket and die” thanks to that confession. 

        For some odd reason, Bakugou seems to agree with your train of thoughts. One of his hands leaves your waist to slip into the hair on the back of your head. Bunching up a collection of curls in his fist, he shoves your face right into his shoulder, dismissing the surprised squeal you give. 

        “What a lame way to say that.” Ouch.

        The response makes you struggle against him, growing ashamed and embarrassed as you push against his toned stomach to escape, but it’s ineffective. His grip has turned to iron, solid and unforgiving as you become more and more frantic. A plea to let you go dies on your lips when he finally opens his mouth. 

        “Stop squirming and let me talk.” 

        You do, allowing him to take a deep breath before speaking again. 

        “I…” he turns his head and gulps. You can’t see thanks to your face being squished against his chest, but you can tell by the quick pounding near your forehead that he’s just as nervous as you. “I like you too, dumbass.”

        Jaw dropping, your mouth goes dry at the confession. Then your hands fall like dead weight to your sides. 

        “Oh.” 

        “That’s it, that’s all I get?!”

        “Sorry, sorry, I just umm… I wasn’t expecting that.” You trail your hands back up over his shoulders once more, finally slipping them into the disarrayed strands. “But I’m glad.” 

        At your reply, he leans back to glance at your face. A wave of relief seems to flask through his eyes when he confirms that, yes, you do mean it.

        “Me too,” he admits, sneaking his arms back around your waist and settling his wandering hands on the small of your back. 

        The tension in the air has drawn back to a zero, and you’re still smiling giddily at the confession. He liked you back, no matter where you came from. 

        He begins to rock you back and forth once more, leading you to the slow song of the band inside as his fingers knead into your skin, flexing and unflexing with every knot your own untangle in his scalp. 

        Owls hoot in the trees beyond the balcony as the stars glitter down on both of you, washing you in dim rays. 

        It’s warm out. It’s nice out. And all you can do is hum along when Bakugou drops his head on your shoulder, huffing a relieved sigh. 

        “God I’m glad I came tonight.”