Disclaimer: I do not own My Hero Academia or any other copyrighted material.

Caged

A/N:Hello readers! Welcome to my first multi-chapter fic for this pair! Of course, this story will be centered around the idea of them coming together, so if you don't ship it then you don't have to continue reading! But, if you do then WELCOME, I am so glad to share this with you.

Few things:

1) This fic's rating will probably change from T to M at some point in the future as it progresses for fluff/smut, and other purposes 😊

2) Bakugou isn't called 'King of Explosions' for nothing so, buckle up for some crude/foul language from my favorite blonde boy, he's got a bad mouth.

3) There ARE spoilers for those who are anime-only people, and this plot doesn't completely follow the events in the manga, it's just loosely centered around them.

I sincerely hope you enjoy this story. Please leave a review, a comment, or any other suggestions below!

Katsuki Bakugou feared nothing.

In fact, his faith in his ability to completely fucking destroy all the extras who opposed his rise to the top of society, often led him into deeper trouble than he intended. But, no matter what, he always came out more-or-less unharmed.

Because that was what heroes did…

They won.

However, this ungodly pride he possessed didn't make him immune from everything in a world filled with the supernatural. And on this particular morning, he found himself unable to convince his body to lift the heavy blankets shrouding his overheated body off of his utterly drenched form.

"Shit." He mumbled groggily, closing his narrowed amber eyes, as his bleach blonde eyebrows knit themselves into his typical scowl.

Perturbed, he glared at the ceiling with all the menace he could muster. Punishing it for his own irritation he'd caused by over-working the muscles in his arms.

A cough racked throughout his body, annoyed, exhausted, and frustrated from the pain of the small spasm.

He was well-aware he'd overdone it in training the previous day. He could feel it in every gait of his walk back to the dorms with Shitty Hair, who had been chastising him for being 'too manly', whatever the fuck that meant.

This sickly state didn't often plague the hot-head, but ever since he was little, when he pushed himself beyond his limits, he would wake up like this.

Pathetic, lethargic, thirsty…and angry beyond his normal scale of bad temperament.

A resounding knock at the door caught his attention, and he shifted his sluggish gaze over to it.

"Hey Bakugou, saw you didn't make it to breakfast this morning, you coming or what?" Kirishima questioned, poking a head full of red spikes into his room without warning.

Didn't the little shit have any boundaries? He thought, as his bad mood festered at the intrusion.

"Fuck off." Bakugou groaned half-heartedly and flipped the other way so he didn't have to stare at the deep red tone of Kirishima's dyed hair.

"I'll tell Aizawa-sensei that the little princess is getting his beauty sleep, chou!" Kirishima taunted in a gushing tone, and then grinned as the hunches of Bakugou's slumped shoulders visibly raised. His fists sweating, begging for him to ignite his quirk.

Having successfully stirred Bakugou's wrath, the blonde managed to summon all the strength he could…

…to glare…

…venomously.

The latter simply chuckled and shut the door behind him, chirping down the hallway about how Bakugou wasn't going to be in class to some of his other classmates.

Katsuki waited until he heard the audible footsteps cease and then heaved himself up, only to splutter into a mess of limbs on the carpeted floor beneath him.

He moaned but welcomed the gush of sweat-free cold air that settled over his aggravated skin.

However, before long he was scrambling to climb back into his bed and retreat to the warmth of his covers.

This day was going to be a bitch.

Ochako Uraraka was a simple girl who enjoyed the simple things of life; and even more so, the free things of life.

"Um, is it possible that I could just pay you for this tomorrow?" the brown-eyed girl asked innocently, batting her dark lashes at the man standing behind the coffee cart, shamelessly flirting.

"No need, pretty girls like you can drink for free." She giggled nervously as the older man leered over her well-formed figure, and quickly scurried towards classroom 1-A once the hot beverage was securely in her hands.

Uraraka liked this coffee stand, they made her morning wake-up easier.

She often pondered whether or not her pursuit in being a hero for money was the most ethical thing to do, but one phone-call from her parents made her doubts shrink faster than Iida could run.

Speaking of Iida, he didn't seem too quick to condemn her goals, and even more impressively neither did Izuku. If anybody knew what the right thing to do was, it was him.

In fact, a small part of her wanted to believe that Deku admired her tenacity…after all he was who inspired her to be more courageous.

She took a sip of her coffee and let out a long sigh. She needed to stop thinking about these things so early in the day.

Her teachers had already been on her case about spacing out in class.

She tilted her head upwards and looked at the morning sky.

The clouds shrouded the magnificent spread of blue above her in wisps of white. She briefly wished she could speed up time to watch the twinkling glow that the stars emitted in the night, breaking the dark expanse like sparklers on the fourth of July.

She loved trying to push the limit of time she could float her own body without spewing her guts by studying the night time constellations.

"Watch out! Uraraka!" she paused immediately and lowered her chin back to its normal position. Her brown eyes widened as she took notice of the pole planted only a few centimeters from her face.

So much for not spacing out, she thought, flustered.

Her cheeks reddened with embarrassment as Izuku jogged over to her, looking as concerned as usual.

"S-Sorry Deku I just got lost in thought I guess…" she laughed, trying to brush off her own awkward feelings that seemed to creep up her throat whenever Deku came near her.

"Oh! N-no it's okay! It would just be bad if you hurt yourself Uraraka!" he stuttered, running a hand through the curly, green-tinted locks.

He was a good friend, she reminded herself.

They walked together to class, chatting about small things. The weather, upcoming tests, breakfast rotations. But, Ochako found even the most mundane talks with Izuku to be comforting in the midst of their chaotic lives as students in the hero course.

It wasn't long before Iida caught up with them too, completing their little clique.

As she walked into the same old classroom that she did every day, tailing right behind Izuku and Iida as per her routine, she felt something was amiss in the rather pleasant chatter that was settled over the atmosphere of the room.

Tsuyu was interrogating Deku about the assignments due that period, ribbiting in between words, and Hagakure was shamelessly, at least from what Uraraka could see, bending over Ojiro's desk to whisper something in his ear that made his tail twitch.

Mineta was giggling with a perverted smile and showing something, most likely vulgar, to Kaminari, who was huddled next to the boy, blushing like a twelve-year-old girl at whatever images were flashing across Mineta's phone.

What was it? She thought, her eyes narrowing.

Her eyes landed on Mina, Sero, and Kirishima, who were congregated in the back of the classroom joking around loudly and having arm-wrestling matches for sport.

A lightbulb dinged in Uraraka's mind.

There were no sweeping declarations being made, or any threats of violence being shouted.

Of course, that's why it's so calm in here. She realized.

Bakugou wasn't here.

"Morning." Aizawa grumbled monotonously, as he rose from his standard yellow sleeping bag, sucking up an entire juice pouch in the process as he cracked open his bloodshot eyes.

"Today you will all be pairing up and…" Sensei's instructions faded in Ochako's ears as he scanned the classroom intensely. His eyes narrowed on the empty desk behind Izuku.

His attention to a nervous-looking Kirishima who threw up his hands in an apologetic manner.

"Sorry Sensei! I tried to get Bakugou to come but he seemed like he wasn't feeling well!" the red-head explained, a smile settling over his unnerved expression. Aizawa then turned his glare towards her.

"Oi, Uraraka." Ochako jumped, turning her full focus to her teacher. Why was he getting on to her now?

"Yes, sensei?" she chirped, trying not to let her anxiety shine through her expression, her sensitive cheeks heating up.

"You'll be paired up with Bakugou for today's assignment." He deadpanned, a hint of irritation present in his tone.

Her brows raised.

"Um but…Bakugou isn't here…Sensei…" she chided quietly, her eyes diverting to random objects and faces throughout the classroom as she faltered under the harsh presence of Eraserhead's authority.

"Not my problem." Aizawa mumbled, and continued his explanation of the day's task.

The paired students were supposed to turn in a one-page paper written about each other, on what it takes to be a good hero. It was an exercise to bring the class closer together, and allow them to understand that every hero has a different drive and motive for why they chose to be a hero.

He explained that he purposefully paired people together that had extremely differing personalities to ensure the most diverse cooperation possible, he eyed Uraraka dangerously with the last bit.

Well…you nailed it. Ochako thought as she pursed her lips in a slight pout.

She wasn't particularly fond or particularly afraid of Bakugou. Her frustration with him rested mostly in his lack of kindness towards Deku.

But…she did believe that there was more to him than his bad temper, though he rarely showed enough of himself for their peers to notice that. Uraraka had always been perceptive.

He was complicated, that was for sure.

Whenever Uraraka had asked Deku about the reason behind the feud they had, he seemed to always be at a loss as to how to explain why Katsuki was so volatile towards him.

It made her heart feel heavy to see the pain in Deku's face when he spoke about the blonde, she wanted it to change. Deku wanted it to change too, it was obvious.

So why did Bakugou have such a stick up his butt when came to it?

After Aizawa dismissed them, the class to split off into their paired groups. Feeling bored Uraraka stiffened when she felt a slight tap on her shoulder from behind.

She turned around to see an overly-enthusiastic Kirishima standing there. She offered a warm smile.

"Yo!" he greeted, a huge, infectious grin plastered on his rugged features. She reciprocated the greeting with her own.

"Hey Kirishima, good morning!" she threw back boisterously. He laughed lightly, and then made a sort of guilty face, his brows drooping slightly. A hand shot to the back of his head, rubbing through the spikes fervently.

Kirishima tended to look away when he was uncomfortable talking about something.

"I'm sorry to tell you this, but it looks like you drew the short end of the stick today. Bakugou is pretty sick back at the dorms, and not too keen on anybody being around." He informed her softly, his tone full of sympathy.

She smirked, undaunted by the challenge.

"Oh? The Baku-rage aura is especially bad today huh? Guess I'll just have to manage!" She replied optimistically, trying to lighten the boy's mood.

He laughed with a new-found gusto and then shoved his large hand into his pocket, fishing for something.

"I admire your spirit! Also, I wanted to give you this-!" he said, presenting a shiny metal key to her.

"-this is so you can get into his room if he decides to be…well you know difficult. Just because he doesn't care about something doesn't mean you should get a bad grade!" He joked, half-serious. Geez, she had it in for her with this assignment.

Uraraka thanked a very empathetic Kirishima and accepted the aid, and then began trudging off towards the direction of the boy's dorms on campus.

Bakugou is lucky to have such a loyal friend, she thought absentmindedly, admiring the blooming cherry blossoms of the sakura trees surrounding her.

Kirishima was always supporting Bakugou no matter the occasion, the boy never seemed to let anything daunt him either. She wondered what kind of backstory he had that had fostered such a bright personality inside him.

Kirishima was one of her favorite people outside of Deku and Iida to be around. His cheery attitude was contagious.

She wondered what kind of person Bakugou was, and if there were things, she couldn't see from a distance, that drew people like Kirishima in.

She guessed, with the assignment they'd been given, she would begin to find out somewhat.

U.A. was a big place. But Ochako honestly didn't mind it.

She liked the feeling of the sun beaming down on her pale skin, and the ability to be on her feet instead of complacent in a desk being lectured by some teacher who clearly would rather spend his day in a cocoon.

She was fond of Aizawa though.

By the time she'd found the Bakugou's room, it was like the very air had sunken to the ground and died. She shuddered, positive she'd be blasted out of the doorway seconds later by its temperamental inhabitant if she didn't act cautiously.

At first, she gingerly knocked on the door wanting to allow enough time for Bakugou to get decent just in case he wasn't. But after she waited a minute or two and heard no audible acknowledgment of her warning, she stuck the gifted key Kirishima had given her into the lock and let the door creak open slowly.

"Bakugou?" she said quietly, but quickly found her jaw going slack.

There were several blankets and various items of clothing strewn across the room. She ventured further into the dorm past the doorway and spotted her classmate slumped against the side of his bed, his body angled in an odd way with the majority of him on the floor.

She furrowed her brows slightly concerned by the image. Bakugou didn't appear to be conscious. His cheeks were a bright crimson, and the only thing covering him was a pair of boxers and a blanket that was slew carelessly over a portion of his upper torso. He looked like he was shivering.

"Bakugou?" she questioned more insistently, keeping her voice calm.

When he once again didn't respond, she came close to him, kneeling down on her knees and shyly poking his hardened bicep with her padded finger.

Not a peep.

At first, she smiled deviously, considering drawing a fake moustache on him or giving him a temporary tattoo of a heart somewhere on his vulnerable form. But, eventually she decided against it, for fear of being decimated by an explosion in the future.

Instead, she pressed all ten of her finger pads into Bakugou's chest, initiating her Quirk to float the blonde off of the ground and slowly guided his limp body towards the bed, lining him in a proper position before releasing.

She pulled his black and red comforter over his scantily clad body, all the way up to his neck keeping her eyes fixated on his face. She was oddly drawn to the sight of his sleeping expression.

Bakugou nearly always wore a half-crazed grin, or a deadly scowl, or sometimes a combination of the two.

But, in this state of sickness he looked…somewhat peaceful.

The hard lines of his eyebrows were smoothed. His mouth didn't look outwardly threatening when his sharp teeth were covered by his lips. In fact, Ochako even thought he looked kind of handsome, at least while he wasn't trying to kill or threaten anybody.

She slapped her cheeks with her hands.

'What're you thinking dummy? This is Bakugou!' she yelled internally.

She shrugged her backpack off her shoulders to the space of the wall beside his desk.

She found herself extremely disturbed by the state of his dorm room as she looked around, taking in the full effect.

Bakugou hadn't participated when they'd held a contest for who had the best room in the building, so this had been her first time, maybe anybody's besides Kirishima, seeing his room.

His space was surprisingly neat, there were no random clothes covering his floor. She did stifle a chuckle at a few miscellaneous scorch marks along the walls, but what really caught her attention was the worn-down poster taped to the wall opposite of the foot of his bed.

It looked like it was several years old, the edges were torn and frayed, but what made it so special, was that it was of All Might.

Was Bakugou a secret fanboy like Deku?

As she scanned the room again, she noticed some other small figurines of All Might and a few random playing cards with the number one heroes' image.

It warmed her heart in an odd way, to see this private thing in Bakugou secluded life. It was kind of humbling.

She was stirred from her introspection by a loud moan from behind her.

She turned to find that Bakugou's features were strained, his lips quivering. He seemed to be in pain.

"Uhh…h-hold on!" Ochako stuttered and frantically looked around her for something to ease his discomfort, she rushed to her backpack and pulled out an unopened bottle of water, and grabbed a smaller towel hanging on a nail in Bakugou's wall.

She carefully poured a generous amount of the cooler fluid onto the fluffy material and then approached her groaning classmate.

"Damnit…fucking shit…" she heard him curse under his breath as he tried to sit upwards. Ochako gently pushed him back down surprised at his complacency. She patted his sweat-beaded forehead in soothing slow rhythm, sighing in relief when his grumbling ceased and the tension in his face relaxed once again.

She looked on as he cracked his blood-red eyes open slightly, they reminded her of slits as he eyed her hovering presence briefly before closing them shut again.

"Mom…thanks…" he muttered deliriously. She smiled in amusement.

How cute. She thought off-handedly before realizing her mistake, and slapping her palms against her cheeks again.

It was pretty bizarre to see Bakugou in a state that made him no more threatening than a butterfly, but also to be mistaken as his Mom would make for a great teasing point should she ever need it.

This whole situation was making her feel kind of weird though.

Another hiss from the spiky-haired student warranted sympathy from Ochako. She sighed and pulled her class materials over by Bakugou's bedside, she didn't want to leave him alone and she needed to go ahead and begin writing their shared paper anyway.

For the most part, as Ochako worked diligently on her homework, Bakugou slept soundlessly, muttering an incoherent grumble here and there. He did act restless a few times however.

She only paused in her meticulous typing, when Bakugou eventually tossed his blankets off of himself and onto…her head.

She pulled the woven material off of her now ruffled hair and straightened it out before moving the covering to put back over the hothead.

Before doing so she couldn't help but notice of delicate lines chiseled into Bakugou's broad chest and well-muscled abdomen.

The ridges indicating his strength stretched across his arms and biceps, which were definitely larger than the average size for boys their age. But what really caught her attention was the marred pieces of flesh littering over his body, accompanied by several nasty purple and bluish bruises pounded into him.

Just how hard had Bakugou been pushing himself all this time?

She gingerly ran her fingers over a particularly large discolored spot that covered the left side of his ribs, hiding under his arm, almost like a wing.

She wondered if he'd gotten them from overusing his quirk.

Most projection type-users like him typically went through stages of self-harm when their quirk first manifested. But his injuries, though not as severe as she had seen Deku's, were still pretty intense.

As she continued to run her hands across Bakugou's tender body, she gulped feeling like she was the one coming down with a fever and curiously placed a wandering hand over his stomach without the pretense of assessing his injuries.

She felt her mouth drop slightly.

It was fascinatingly hard and the lines were addicting to trace over. She definitely needed to go on a diet.

The indentations were deep and smooth. But once she realized what she was doing was wrong, she quickly withdrew her touch, threw the blanket across him, and finally retreated to the sanctity of her laptop, embarrassed and unnerved by her lustful behavior.

The flush in her cheeks dissipated as she returned her thoughts to the subject at hand.

Why did Bakugou want to be a hero?

She looked over her shoulder to eye the unconscious boy behind her. Ochako frowned, knowing this was supposed to be a team exercise meant to bring her and her clear opposite laying behind her closer together. But she didn't think the blonde would be in any shape to rouse from his comatose sleep anytime soon, she could always ask him to edit her words later anyway.

She looked around his expanse once again, taking into note the obvious clues to his inspiration. She knew Bakugou was tenacious and dedicated.

He was always focused on winning.

After collecting her data Ochako set to work, writing her best guess about why the great Bakugou, Katsuki wanted to become the number one hero.

Bakugou awoke suddenly to a harsh punch against his right shoulder, forcing him to grit his teeth from the shooting pain. And once the ringing in his ears, caused by his equally as anonymous fury subsided, and his red-vision cleared, he saw the distinguished features of Kirishima above him, yelling for him to wake up.

The vein in his forehead bulged and he gritted his teeth as he planted a foot on the red-heads stomach.

"SHUT THE HELL UP!" he barked, sending his friend onto the floor of his bedroom with a dull and satisfying thud.

"Hey now, no need to be so feisty." Kirishima taunted, rubbing his smarting ass from the force of the impact.

"What do you want?" he huffed angrily, annoyed by the harsh glare of the sunlight from the blinds of his window beside him.

"Well I was checking to make sure that you're still alive dumbass." He retorted sarcastically, standing up casually and slinging a hand to cup Bakugou's still sore shoulder.

As the hot-head became increasingly aware of his surroundings, Katsuki began to get confused.

Something in the air seemed off, it smelled too much like cotton candy and rainbows for his taste.

"Why the fuck does it smell like a goddamn unicorn in here Kirishima?" Bakugou growled lowly, his eyes straining from the pressure of his scowl.

"Huh? Well maybe cause Uraraka was in here yesterday…" the red-head trailed, placing a hand to scratch the underside of his chin.

Uraraka? What the hell? Bakugou thought frantically.

He began trying to ask questions but Kirishima explained what was going on before he had the chance to open his mouth.

"Yeah sorry man! You just looked really out of it yesterday morning so I gave her your key! I figured you'd be awake by the time class was over, you don't remember?"

Did he just say, yesterday?

"Haha man you slept from yesterday morning all the way to today, it's already eight 'o'clock sharp!" Kirishima chided, taking obvious satisfaction in his friend's deep confusion as to what the hell was happening.

He was beginning to feel the urge the disintegrate the entire dwelling in spite, but decided against it.

"Aizawa assigned us this 'why you chose to become a hero' paper and paired you and Uraraka up. But seeing as you were incapacitated, I guess she thought it would be better just to take care of you and write her own version of what she thought you'd say...you know minus the bad language." Kirishima continued, thinking out loud.

"The hell you mean 'bad language', I have the mouth of a saint, you damn shitty hair…" he spat.

Kirishima let out a chuckle.

Bakugou inhaled deeply, picking up traces of floral perfume or some other kind of girly shit.

He needed to shower and get the oddly intriguing scent out of his mind.

Once clean, and calm enough to walk out from his room and head towards class. He felt more than anything, a deep sense of embarrassment at the ordeal from the last 24 hours.

He wasn't sure just what Uraraka had seen, he didn't know why she didn't bother waking him up to alert him to her presence. And on top of it all, he didn't have a fucking clue as to why she'd chosen to stay at his side while he was out of commission.

The only thing he did very briefly remember, was waking up, scorching, and thinking his mom had been there, stroking his cheek and cooling his forehead.

But now that he realized that had been that fucking airhead, he wanted nothing more than to torch all of U.A.'s campus into ashes.

Bakugou trotted loudly through the campus, glaring at anyone feeling brave enough to make eye contact with him, until he caught sight of the enigma herself, Ochako Uraraka.

"Uraraka-san!" the blonde looked up to see Deku running awkwardly towards her, an idiotic smile covering his flushed cheeks.

Damn nerd. He thought impulsively.

He then turned his attention back to Uraraka who seemed to be lost in a world of her own. But apart from her everyday nonsense and bubbly antics, it didn't take a rocket scientist to see what was going on here.

She was using her hands a lot, constantly fidgeting. There was a rosy tint to her rather pale complexion, and to top it all off she couldn't seem to tear those big brown eyes pf hers away from the idiot's gaze.

They liked each other and it was easy to tell.

Hell, they were acting like fourth graders about to hold hands for the first time, with all their blushing and giggling.

He made an audible 'tch' sound as he eye-balled the two lovebirds, his roaming gaze mainly falling over the gravity-wielding nuisance.

She definitely wasn't hard on the eyes, boasting a well-rounded backside, curvaceous thighs, and her other features Bakugou also deemed 'attractive'.

One hundred percent out of Deku's league that was for damn sure.

He looked away and continued to advance past them. Taking large strides, Bakugou let out a small insidious chuckle.

A plan that was probably not the most 'heroic' formulating at the forefront of his mind.

What would that Quirkless bastard do, if he stole Uraraka for himself?