Disclaimer: I do not own My Hero Academia or any other copy-righted material.

She's No Angel

A/N: Hey all! Welcome to my story!

A few things to start off:

1) If you came here wanting the spacey, cute, and fun-loving Ochako you can go ahead and hit the back button on your browser, this is going to be a dark and angst-filled AU fic, focusing on how Uraraka and Bakugou understand/respect one another, and can comfort one another in the unqiue way they need (which will eventually lead to some romance!).

2) Several mature themes will be in this, including: rape, sexual content, obscene language, etc.

3) I'm writing this story set in a time-frame after high school for class 1A, so basically, they've all grown up and matured and whatnot. They be adults and all that jazz.

4) This isn't a quirk filled world of heroes and villains. This story is going to be set in the cold reality of the world we live in.

That all being said I still hope you guys enjoy my weird take on this pair, let me know how I did down below!

Full Summary: It's been five years since the last time they'd crossed paths. A darkness overshadowed his life that he would never admit, and she wasn't the 'angel-face' he remembered from high school. Yet, somehow, they still managed to understand each other's pain. AU. Kacchako.

Chapter 1: The Reunion

Five years had passed since the last time Katsuki Bakugou could last remember setting foot on U.A.'s campus grounds, and a lot of shit can happen in five years' time.

For starters, he was a firefighter now. He was a really good one, at that.

He'd aced his EMT certifications and graduated at the top of his class in the fire academy.

His life these days seemed to be centered around diving into infernos, and pulling people out; saving victims, and winning against the flames.

He always won...except for once.

Aside from himself, from what he'd heard through Kirishima, all of class 1A was obviously older now and living out relatively normal adult lives.

A ton of his classmates had gotten busy and shacked up with one another. Getting married, and all of that cliché bullcrap.

That shit wasn't him.

Fuck, he thought.

Deku even had a little brat now, about 6 months old if he recalled correctly. He thought it's name was something like...shit-head..oh wait…no that was just Deku.

He'd never really been one to follow the mainstream flow of life in any case so, he didn't really see what the big deal was with all of this 'new phase' ideology that his classmates, the ones he had bothered to keep contact with, kept yammering on about.

Katsuki let out an exasperated sigh, crumbling up the invitation he'd received that morning for a five year high school reunion party.

He resumed resting, shaking the thoughts of the past out of mind, and laid his head back to rest against the couch he was spread-out across.

"Bakugou you might be more easy going these days, but you still look so damn gloomy all the time…it's scary." Bakugou's eyebrows furrowed, and without looking back to the familiar red-headed source of the voice disturbing him, he scowled.

Kirishima took his own turn to sigh, observing the blonde with concern as he tangled his calloused hands through routinely dyed, bright red hair. He took care spiking tufts of it here and there. His hairstyle hadn't ever really changed since the day he and Bakugou first met.

"Shut it." Bakugou offered tiredly.

The double-shifts his friend had been taking on at the fire station lately, were really beginning to show extent of their physical toll on his body. Fighting fires was nothing to laugh at, Kirishima had heard plenty of stories from Todoroki and Aizawa about the many close calls they'd undergone.

Hell, he would never forget what had happened to All Might either.

Kirishima turned his gaze back to his roomate, and resided to gently trying once again.

"Hey man, seriously you need to get ready, Mina's coming to pick us up soon." The red-head persisted hopefully.

Without a word, Bakugou grunted in acknowledgment as he peeled himself off of the sofa, lumbering away from Kirishima.

Once reaching the doorway leading into his bedroom, Bakugou took a long glance around the flat he and Kirishima had bought together straight out of high school.

They'd spent all their savings, up to that point, on the down payment alone. Somehow, they'd managed to pay the bills until they both found stability in their careers.

Still, even Kirishima somewhere in last five years, found his supposed 'soulmate'. Bakugou was happy for them, though he'd never voice it.

Mina Ashido, a girl he'd never really gotten to know in all their years at U.A., had resurfaced and sparked a newfound relationship with the enthusiastic red-head. From what he had gathered, Kirishima and the pink-haired chick had reconnected in the hospital a few years prior to now.

They were truly nauseating to be around, and Bakugou often found himself spending the night at a hotel so he wouldn't inevitably walk in on a scene he really didn't need to plague his memory for the rest of eternity.

The two of them did all the typical happy 'coupley' things. They kissed each other on the cheek when one left for a shift at the hospital, they called each other 'babe' fairly regularly, and they even slept together without the context of sexual expectations.

He shook his head again, remembering how, about a month or so earlier, Kirishima had recruited him to help in his planning of a proposal for the woman.

He had even been there to fucking hand the blubbering idiot a tissue when he started bawling after the alienesque girl said she'd marry the poor sap.

Fucking disgusting, he thought, his scowl's venomous appearance growing.

"Idiot…" Bakugou muttered lowly to himself as he rummaged through his closet in search of something to wear for the goddamn party. He didn't wear much that didn't involve his firefighter gear. Some would even say he was a minimalist.

After a thorough evaluation of his wardrobe, he settled for a simple pair of jeans, plain black t-shirt and grey blazer. This attire was what composed his standard formal look, and it worked for every single occasion he went to. So, was there a need to change it?

He looked him self over in the mirror as he slipped on a pair of loafers, another staple in his clothing style.

He ran a hand through his unruly blonde mop, contemplating what about him had changed outwardly since the last time he'd seen most of the fuckers from his high school class.

He'd grown a little taller, and put on some more muscle in his rescue training. Nothing else was all that different, he thought, eye-balling the rest of his constitution without much thought.

"Oi, Bakugou! She's here!" Kirishima called out, a tinge of glee present in the man's tone.

Katsuki rolled his eyes, grabbing his personal set of house keys off his bedside table, and not-so-enthusiastically prepared mentally to face his old high school chums.

The crisp chill of the autumn winds breezed across Katsuki's skin. He walked silently alongside Kirishima and Mina, headed towards the warmth inside Heights Alliance. He clenched his jaw, annoyed for was sure to be a very pointless, and even more boring evening of re-introductions and half-assed pleasantries.

Damn, he thought to himself, he could be sleeping right now.

As soon as Bakugou, Kirishima, and Mina stepped foot into the familiar expanse of the Height's Alliance common area, the blonde felt a wave of nostalgia hit him square in the chest. His breath hitching responsively.

Hearing the familiar voices, seeing the faces of the people he'd grown and matured alongside. It all made him…a little excited if he was honest...which he ALWAYS fucking was.

But...he wouldn't dare say it aloud.

"BAKUGOU!" Katsuki stiffened as he heard a high-pitched bellow near him. He prepared his body to hold his hand out in 3…2…1….

Smack!

"Ow, Bakugou it's been so long but you're still as cold as ever." He turned to look over Kaminari Denki, who was currently rubbing his cheek and whining like wuss.

He fought the urge to smile, relieved to see one of the pals who used to follow him around like a lost puppy outside of classes from back in the day.

Kaminari seemed a little more like a man than Katsuki previously remembered, still a little bitch, but his hair was shorter and his frame broader than before. His red eyes narrowed on a gold ring planted on Kaminari's left hand.

Another one bites the dust huh? He thought, annoyed.

"Damn straight Pikachu." He mumbled without as much bite as he would've liked. The clown in return, giggled nervously, before turning his sporadic and child-like attention to Kirishima.

"Ei!" he cried.

"Denki!" The latter replied, with just as much jubilation.

Fighting the urge to slap both idiots, Bakugou shifted his gaze to overlook the rest of the room. He could see that nearly everybody from class 1A was present.

"Kacchan!" Bakugou felt his hair stand on end as that damn age-old nickname grated against his ears for what felt like an eternity.

He grimaced, making eye contact with the green-haired nuisance. He should've remembered that the damn nerd would show up to something like this. How that had slipped his mind, he didn't know.

Many important things seemed to slip out of his grasp these days...

"Oi." He returned, remaining surprisingly civil, and raising a hand up in a casual greeting.

Deku approached him, beaming with joy at Katsuki's calm demeanor. Deku stood a good few inches taller than him now. He didn't think he'd ever get used to that difference.

Deku's growth spurt came on right about the time they'd all graduated. Nobody expected his scrawny little ass to ever amount to…well the huge goddamn teddy bear he was now.

"It's good to see you! Kirishima said you might not make but I'm glad you ended up coming." He chirped brightly, his usual bubbly charisma testing Bakugou's tolerance for sunshine and rainbows.

"Yeah, I decided there wasn't much else to do since Aizawa gave me the fucking day off just so I couldn't avoid this catastrophe." He saw Deku's perfect composure flinch a bit, and bit back a smirk.

What? Had the brat never heard a cuss word in his entire sheltered little life?

"Ah I see you're still working under Aizawa then, how is Sensei doing these days? I never have the time to catch up with anybody, too busy with all the cases I get." The timbre of Deku's voice heightened, as he awaited Katsuki's response, smiling wide.

Katsuki blinked and remembered that Deku had become a lawyer, an unexpected feat no one had seen coming.

"The old man is doing fine I guess, same shit as always, just lots of sleeping and bossing me around." He gruffed, shoving his hands deep inside his pockets.

"I see you still have such a dirty mouth even after growing up so much, Bakugou-chan." Bakugou chuckled as Deku's little lady chimed into their conversation. Concocting a searing retort to her sarcasm with a dangerous glint in his eye.

"I see you're still as lively as a pebble on the side of the road, even after marrying this over-hyped bastard." He shot back, snickering deviously, as Asui simply looked away, bored with his attitude.

She instead turned her attention to the little girl sprinting around the boundaries of the common area. Bakugou followed her maternal instinct, laying his sights on the kid.

Deku's daughter looked...well like Deku. She was short, skinny, and way too happy.

"Hey I meant to ask Kacchan, but where's Kirshima? I want to congratulate him and Mina-chan on their engagement!" Bakugou pointed in the direction of the happy couple, without a sound, annoyed by Deku's ever-present polite mannerisms.

Ting! Ting! Ting!

Bakugou followed behind the footsteps of his peers lead as they turned to see Iida banging a metal spoon against a wine glass, with the same old tight-ass expression. He was standing straight-backed atop a table in the center of the room. His eyes dead-set on each of their listening faces.

"Everyone! Welcome to our class reunion! Please feel free to continue your reminiscing and remember that the open bar is in the north corner of the kitchen!"

There was a resounding cheer to four-eyes's announcement, and Bakugou yawned instead, moving away from the lively corral in the center to take up the offer of free alcohol in the back.

After procuring a hefty shot of whiskey, and nursing a bottle of beer, Katsuki resigned himself to the comfort of leaning against the wall in the far side of the energetic expanse. He was never much for this kind of gathering in the first place.

He grimaced as he scanned over each smiling face in the crowd…they were all so damn...naïve.

Did any of them understand what it meant to live in reality? Because reality was a cold bitch.

How they all managed to act so fucking happy, when that fact hung in the balance over each and every one of their heads, eluded him.

In his solitary introspection he noticed something out of place in the sea of laughter and small talk. There slumped against the wall opposite to himself was a face he nearly didn't recognize. The corners of his mouth turned upwards in a tight-lipped smile.

Ochako Uraraka.

It had been a damn minute since he'd caught sight of that broad.

He eyed her appearance thoughtfully, slowly realizing more and more about her had changed since he'd last laid eyes on her.

Her short choppy brown hair was longer, grown out to hang over the right side of her face, nearly touching her shoulder. Her body still retained the same attractive curves she'd had in adolescence, but her usual pink-cheeked easy-going countenance, and bubbly aura, were oddly pale and dull from what he could observe.

He was too far to tell for certain, but her normally fiery brown eyes, the ones that always seemed to be ready for a fight, seemed...lifeless.

Her body was slumped awkwardly, her left shoulder balancing on the wall to kept her even-footing on the ground.

Was she fucked up? He wondered, trying to remember if Uraraka was a lightweight from his memories of the times they would all drink 'illegally' in school.

Before he was close enough to make a definitive call, he watched curiously as the brunette reached into her purse to pulled out a silver flask. He stifled a laugh.

Uraraka fucking Ochako had a flask...what the hell?

Once she'd downed a decent-sized swig of whatever liquid was contained within the metal bounds, she locked her eyes onto Deku.

"Heyyy Deku-kun come here!" she slurred, gesturing provocatively with her index finger. Her call was loud enough that their nearby friends turned to stare at her, an unsettling expression etched into each of their faces as she raised her flask once again, and waved to the nerd more insistently.

This wasn't at all what Uraraka from his school days was like. Something was off.

Bakugou frowned, vaguely remembering that Kirishima had mentioned something to him about the girl awhile back. Something about how she'd quit her job as a private detective because of some kind of incident.

He strained, racking his brain with no luck.

The details were lost on him.

He continued to merely observe at a safe distance, as Deku cautiously stalked over towards the intoxicated woman. His normally timid presence morphing into a kind of distant concern.

Why the hell was everyone acting so weird all of a sudden?

He definitely recalled Uraraka being one of the more popular girls in their class, so why the heavy-ass tension?

"It's good to see you Deku-kunnn." She cooed jabbing a wobbly finger into his chest playfully as she shoved the flask back into her purse, stumbling a few steps in the process.

Bakugou narrowed his eyes.

"It's nice to see you here with all of your happpppy family for once, did you finally find someone who was good enough for 'the' Izuku Midoriya?" she continued, her upbeat tone taking a note of bitterness.

Deku watched her, eyes locked on to one another, at a loss for words. A rare sight.

"Uraraka-san, this really isn't the time or the place-"

"Why're you being so damn formal huh? 'Uraraka-san' what the hell is that?" she yelled mockingly, a bigger audience began to notice the uncomfortable scene playing out behind them. When she noticed she glared back at the nosy onlookers and, with little grace, shoved past Deku as she made her way away from the gathering.

Bakugou scowled, confused by the situation, and moved instinctively after his drunken classmate.

"I wouldn't interfere in that if I were you." Katsuki paused, smiling deviously as he craned his neck backwards to bore holes into Todoroki's stupid, bi-colored head.

"The hell if I'll listen to you half n' half." He spat, annoyed by the latter's meddling.

"Bakugou." He continued, raising his voice slightly, notes of severity in them.

"She and Midoriya have a lot of unfinished business with each other that doesn't concern you or any of the rest of us. It didn't end well, and especially with Uraraka's current condition, I wouldn't try and add any insult to injury." He stated as monotonously as ever.

Ever since high school, Bakugou had always wondered who had shoved a stick so far up Todoroki's ass that it had gotten permanently stuck up there, poking around and constantly making him churn out the most annoying cheap shot commentary.

"Fuck off." He answered curtly, and continued towards the direction he'd seen Uraraka flee towards.

He looked back to see Deku standing aimlessly, an odd look of guilt on his face. Katsuki could see the regret swirling so deep in Deku's eyes he thought he could probably reach out and feel it. Tsuyu came just in time to soothe her woman's flustered emotions as Bakugou turned away once again.

He could care less.

He was more intrigued by the bizarre nature of the bubbly air-headed woman, who'd practically sprinted out of the building with as much grace as she'd ever possessed, which was none.

This kind of behavior, was not what he was expecting. He offhandedly thought the night might not be so boring after all.

Discreetly, Bakugou followed the dark corridor of the outside hallway until he heard the distinct sounds of vomiting.

Fucking great, he thought.

He peered into the old courtyard, catching sight of a bobbing mess of aurburn-colored hair, as he approached a very sweaty Uraraka. She was coughing as the acidic bile coated her lips.

"Long time no see, angel-face." He greeted, and was met with another warm and pleasant round, full of hacking and sniffles, as the Ochako's stomach contents were spilled out across the grass.

"Fuck off Bakugou." She wheezed coldly, the strength of her body failing her as she tried to gather her splayed knees.

He was somewhat surprised by her harsh tone, but it didn't discourage him from teasing her a bit. It had been a long time.

"Damn, adulthood made you feisty." he taunted, and watched intently as she swayed into an upright position peering warily into his eyes with her big brown orbs.

He knew that round face better than anyone else's in his class. Even better than Kirishima's.

The reason for this being, that, she never looked him in the eye without an electrifying spark of challenge present in her chocolate depths. Uraraka was never boring, and she was always ready to throw down, that was what he liked about her in the first place.

And so, he was confused now, as to why after all those times looking down into her glimmering gaze, that he was met with an all-encompassing nothingness.

Her eyes were no more alive than those of a dead fish.

It was puzzling to him, why that flare was missing from her. Those burning embers that made his blood burn with excitement.

"Surely you didn't just come out here to watch me vomit and gawk at my face." She seethed angrily, pulling him out of his confusion.

She was radiating a 'stay the hell away' vibe, but it didn't bother him in the slightest. He had fought fires, much hotter than the one sweltering inside of Uraraka, daily.

"Not really." He returned nonchalantly, amused by the irritation clear in Uraraka's delicate features.

"Then why the fuck are you here?" It was equally as confusing to him, as it was intriguing, that the sweet and innocent Uraraka he remembered had taken on his bad habit of using foul language.

"What? You're just going to stare some more-ah!" Katsuki reacted quickly, using his reflexes to catch Uraraka's arm as her ankle twisted in on itself. He saw a look of panic flash vibrantly throughout her brown orbs before she slapped his hand away, her ass hitting the ground with a solid thud.

"Don't you fucking touch me…" she hissed, her breathing labored, the fear evident on her face as her hands shook.

He stood quietly by her side until her breathing evened out again, wondering why she was so rattled by his attempt to fucking HELP her drunk ass.

"Listen, if you really want the absolute joy of my company, then you have to do two things for me Bakugou." He listened, fully interested in her ensuing offer for no other reason than pure boredom.

"First, you need to get me some tequila." He frowned taking her current state into note, but nodded regardless.

"Second, you can take one of these…" she slowly raised her middle finger, making sure he could see it clearly, and flaunted it up at him.

"…and shove it up your ass." He couldn't help but smirk at her obscenity, wasted Uraraka wasn't half-bad, her glare softened slightly.

"You got it, angel-face." He chuckled, obliging her demands by slipping back into the party and quickly grabbing a bottle of tequila before returning outside. As he sauntered back towards Uraraka he shifted the weight of the bottle in his hands, finding the feeling comfortable.

He found the girl unconscious. Passed out cold on the ground, her resting face looking much more familiar to him than the mask she'd worn when she was conscious minutes earlier.

He bent down and checked her pulse, exhaling in relief when he felt the steady pounding rhythm in her wrist.

Assessing the situation, he groaned and begrudgingly removed his jacket, pulling it over the brunette to cover her bare shoulders. In a single swift motion, he picked her limp body up off of the ground, finding her light and easy to carry.

Uraraka only made slight, indecipherable sounds of disturbance as she settled in within his arms. He trotted off in the direction of the courtyard's exit until he stopped remembering that he hadn't driven to U.A. in the first place.

"Shit…" he breathed in frustration, re-positioning his arms so that he could fish around inside his pocket for his cell phone.

He dialed the one person he thought would be willing to bail him out of the unfortunate predicament.

It took two rings before he got an answer.

"Bakugou...what is it?"

"Aizawa, can you come to the school? I need a favor." he replied in a hushed tone.

"…hang tight." he heard the older man grumble, before the tone signaling the call had ended beeped in his ear.

Bakugou managed to shove his phone back into his pants before searching for somewhere comfortable to squat, while he waited.

That bottle of tequila was sure going to help his festering mood after all.

"Bakugou." Katsuki was on his feet with little effort, grateful for Aizawa's presence, as well as the warm escape he could seek away from the cold air inside his car.

Manuevering Uraraka's splayed limbs into the backseat, Bakugou extended his arms after she was secured. Stretching them out to ease the tension of holding her form against his chest for almost a half hour.

"I hope you've got a good explanation as to why one of my former student's is unconscious and reeking of alcohol in the back of my car." Bakugou snorted as he shut the door to the passenger side, using more force then necessary.

"You got any clue where Uraraka lives?" he grunted flatly, avoiding the backstory on the situation at hand.

He shifted to avoid Aizawa's harsh glare, choosing instead to peer out of the side window, up towards the dark indigo ceiling of the sky. It was littered with pricks of white light, showing surprisingly well in the city.

"Bakugou, you call me to come on my night away from the station and expect me to do your bidding with no questions asked?" Aizawa reprimanded sternly, his eyes fixated on the road before them, his brows furrowed more then usual.

"Tch." Bakugou sighed, and turned around to check on Uraraka's condition. She was drooling a comical amount of spit over the leather upholstery of Aizawa's precious seats, snoring soundly.

"I don't really have any answers for you, she got shit-faced at that damn reunion thing and I decided to take her somewhere that was better than U.A.'s dirty backyard." He explained, keeping his tone level since he was appreciative of Aizawa's willingness to help him out.

He was well aware that this entire thing looked kind of strange and out of character for him. Saving the damsel in distress was more of a Deku, or even Kirishima thing.

"I see…" he began, the cutting sting of his gray eyes dropping slightly.

"She's gotten worse then." Bakugou eyed his former teacher with confusion.

"Everyone keeps mumbling that something happened to her, I don't know what the hell they're talking about." He stated, shooting a look in the driver's direction.

He noted that Aizawa's grip shifted uncomfortably on the steering-wheel, his knuckles turning white.

"It's not really my place to say anything more than what the media has already covered, so I'll share at least that with you Bakugou." The blonde continued to watch him, listening intently even if his outward appearance didn't reflect it.

"About 4 years ago, there was an incident involving Uraraka's police station and a drug ring that went badly. Uraraka was the head detective working undercover in the authority's operation to expose and arrest the leaders of the ring, except…" Entranced by the dark animosity he watched overcome his chief, Bakugou cocked an eyebrow.

Aizawa's gripped the rim of the steering wheel so tight, Bakugou wondered if it might cave in under the pressure. Aizawa's shoulders were cocked and raised, the tension in them obvious. A sigh escaped from between his teeth as he gathered his composure.

"...except Uraraka's position was given away before the police ever made a move on the gang…and it ended badly for her." He finished solemnly, his monotonous voice holding a residing tone of disgust.

"That so?" Bakugou responded quietly, his eyes clouding with possibilites as he saw the road leading up to he and Kirishima's flat coming to an abrupt end.

Aizawa's car came to a steady halt, and the man shifted his steely gaze to the blonde sitting beside him, channeling all of his fatherly authority into what he said next.

"Bakugou listen," he began, hesitating until Bakugou met his forceful gaze.

"The Uraraka you knew in high school is not the same as the one who is behind us now. She has endured far more then you or I could even begin to imagine..." Bakugou could read the severity of the situation clearly in Aizawa's voice. But he had no idea how he was supposed to respond. What was he even supposed to say?

So, she'd been through hell and back. That didn't mean it was any of his business.

"Treat her kindly." Aizawa finished as Bakugou unfastened the seatbelt restraining him inside the suddenly suffocating atmosphere of the car.

"I got it, thanks for the ride." He mumbled, leaning down to pull Uraraka out of the tight enclosure, trying to make sure he didn't bash her head against the doorway in the process.

His head continued running over several scenarios of what kind of things could have happened to her as he carried the slumbering brunette into his house.

He flipped on a light switch with his elbow, and used his heel to shut the door behind him with a bang. Scanning across the illuminated floor, he noted that there were no tripping hazards in sight, he continued on back towards his bedroom.

He wondered what kind of things she'd gone through in the years that he'd gone about his business as usual. He wondered what could've occurred that was so unspeakable his chief couldn't even look him in the eye when talking about it.

Assault? he thought as he slid her into the sheets of his bed gently and with little difficulty, pulling the grey-colored comforter up high enough rest over Uraraka's small frame.

Torture? he pondered.

Whatever they'd done, he decided, if it was bad enough to make Aizawa angry, he didn't want to know what she'd experienced.

His eyes trailed over Uraraka's sleeping form as she shifted positions, inadvertently turning her roundish face towards him in the dim sheen of the moonlight.

His crimson orbs ran along the entire length of her delicate features, taking in her big round eyes, the slim bridge of her nose, and even the plump curve to her tinted cheeks. He continued trailing towards her slender neck until his gaze finally reached the creamy hue of her arms that were splayed out hazily, pointing in different directions.

He stopped cold when he saw the small horizontal scars that marred the smooth continuity of her skin. He brought his face closer, and reached out a calloused hand, just barely grazing the raised lines.

"Uraraka…" he murmured gently, his muddled expression shrouded by the cover of his spiky blonde hair. The meaning behind those scars beginning to dawn on him as he pulled away.

What happened to you?