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BNHA Requests by a Potato

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Everyone was exhausted, and drenched in sweat from an all out day of training; except for Aoyama who “doesn’t sweat,” he “glistens.” Midoriya went back to his room to do some pushups, situps, squats, chin ups, pull ups, and lunges before showering. Halfway through his post-workout-workout Izuku headed down to the kitchen to get some water. On his way he passed through the common room where everyone seemed to be watching the news.

“Hey, Deku! Have you seen the news?”

“No?”

“The League or Villians attacked again, and they got a new member!”

“Really? What’s his quirk?! Was he already well known?! Where did they attack?! What did they do?!”

“They attacked Osaka, really just destroying buildings and terrorizing civilians. I’ve never heard of him before, but he seems to have a really powerful fire breathing quirk.”

At this the color suddenly drained from Midoriya’s face.

“Deku? Are you all right?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course Uraraka! Why do you ask?”

It couldn’t be. It’s just a coincidence. Fire breathing may not be a very common quirk, but-“

“Oi, shit nerd! You can’t even hear the broadcast over your mumbling!”

“Yes, but your yelling is so much quieter than it.”

“Hey! What’d you say half-n-half?!”

“Guys, guys! Could you maybe keep it down so we can hear what their saying?”

“Tch.”

“Sure.”

“I don’t trust ’em,” Mina said before turning up the volume.

“The motives behind the attack are still unclear. Damage is spread throughout the city, and we’re still unsure if this alone was their intention or rather a distraction as cover other activities we have no way of knowing at this time…” Naomasa told the reporter on site. “We’ve looked into the League’s newest member, but couldn’t find out his true identity. However, there are few with fire breathing quirks, and only three registered users in Japan. The perpetrator may very well be unregistered, but after pulling up images we had on file for those registered with this quirk we noticed that one of them looks very similar to the man who was part of the attack earlier this day.”

No, no, no, no no nonono! Midoriya thought, it CAN’T be him, but if it is… I don’t want everyone to know! But they probably should if it’s what we might be up against, but ahhhhhhhhhh! What do I do?!

“Further proof is needed to confirm his identity, but please keep an eye out for-“ The screen went black.

“Seriously?”

“What the heck happened?”

“Which one of you dumb fucks turned it off?!”

“It’s not turning back on. I think it’s broken.”

“Kaminari can you give it power?”

“What? You just want me to act as a human generator, and never leave the TV?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Wow, Jirou. I feel so objectified!”

“Tch.” Bakugou tched before leaving, only to have Kirishima trailing after him.

“Wait up, bro!”

“Someone should probably tell a teacher the TV broke.”

Man, that was so lucky timing. Or was it? Was it him? I can’t help, but feel ridiculously lucky that it broke right then. Although… it’s weird how good that timing was. I wonder…

Most had vacated the couches surrounding the couch by now, so Izuku was pretty much alone as he checked out the TV for any reason it would have just stopped working like that. Midoriya had never inspected anything so thoroughly in his life. Not even his All Might comics before buying them. Not even the Limited Editions he bought through Ebay.

He smelled smoke, and following his nose to the source he found that the cord had been burn straight through on the portion that was directly beside the right side of the couch.

Did Todoroki? No, he near there. The one sitting next to it was Ka...cchan. Did he-?

Chapter Text

“Are you sure you’re information’s good?”

“I’m sure my information’s good.”

“And you trust your source?”

“I trust my source.”

“And you’re sure that-”

“Oh my word! Do you trust me, or not?!”

Jirou hesitated to answer.

“Oh, come on.”

“What?”

“You seriously don’t trust me? I know you guys always call me an idiot, but I thought that was just you guys joking. I didn’t realize you actually thought I was incompetent.”

“I don’t think you’re-”

“Really?! Then why aren’t you trusting me on this?!”
“Look, if I didn’t trust you I wouldn’t be here. You said that there’s a bomb on the fiftieth floor of a mostly vacant building next to a residential one, so here I am on the fiftieth floor of a mostly vacant building at three in the morning on one of the rare occasions when I didn’t actually have a late night shift.”

“Okay, okay.” Kaminari held his hands up in defense,  “No need to be so salty.”

“Kaminari,” Jirou pinched the bridge of her nose, her eyes shut in exasperation, “dragging me out into the middle of downtown at this ungodly hour is plenty reason to be salty. Do not test my patience.”

“Fine. Can you just listen in for activity?”

“We’re looking for a bomb. You honestly believe that’s a good idea?”
“My source said they were only planning on planting it right now, and they intend to detonate it later.”
Jirou hesitated for the second time that night.

With a sigh she elongated her ear jacks, “I hope you’re right.” No sooner than they entered the wall there was a deafening explosion. It left Kaminari’s ears ringing in the aftermath. Kyouka on on the other hand, heard no ringing. She didn’t hear anything.

Kaminari was yelling at her. She saw his mouth move, but couldn’t decipher the soundless words that left his throat. Jirou tilted her head in confusion.

Kaminari bent down towards her.

Bent down?

She was on the floor.

Why hadn’t she noticed she was on the floor?

When did that happen?

Jirou shook her head as though to clear the concussed fog from her mind as Kaminari lifted a hunk of concrete off her right leg.

Huh? Why hadn’t she noticed that? Something was very wrong.

She shook her head again.

Kaminari was now bending down towards her again, and before she could process what was happening she was being scooped up in arms that felt stronger than they looked. He was saying things again. She could tell from the vibrations of the chest she was now pressed against, and the moving of the jaw just above her. She could tell from the straining of the vocal cords that was visually evident. Kaminari was making a break for the stairs, and his head whipped wildly from side to side keeping an eye out for any dangers to them.

He was shouting again, but not to her. Seemed like he had realized that was a lost cause. He was speaking into his comms.

Looks like Mister Idiot was smart enough to look for some back up aside from Jirou.

As she was carried towards the stairs Jirou absentmindedly wondered who else Kaminari decided to be a pain in the ass for tonight.

Black hair, sharp teeth, black eyes, blonde hair all flash through her head, but she can’t seem to remember the names that accompanied them. That bothered her. They felt as though on the tip of her tongue. There, but… not.

She was snapped from her thoughts at the emergence of another figure from the flames left in the wake of the explosion. A tall, well-built man with short dark purple hair.

Lit by the flames his hair looked a nice deep lavender Jirou thought.

Kaminari maneuvered a hand to point at the villain approaching them shifting Jirou in his arms, but not dropping her. He’d never do that.

Wires shot from his wrist, and barbs at the end caught of the front of their attacker’s attire. A charge shot up the line, and the man promptly passed out.

Human taser indeed.

Kaminari burst into the stairwell, and rushed down them, a concussed deaf Jirou still cradled in his arms. It was around the forty fifth floor that Jirou began to lose consciousness, and unsure of any other way to rouse her especially while taking flights of stairs two steps at a time, Kaminari gave her another shock.

He didn’t want to, and Jirou yelped at the sting, but it was dangerous to lose consciousness after sustaining a head injury he remembered that much from first aid training.

Despite Kaminari managing to keep her awake, the rest of the night was a blur for Jirou. She wasn’t experiencing anything in focus until around eight that night.

Jirou awoke to find a passed out Denki in a chair at her bedside. He must have set it up facing her to wait for her return to consciousness, but had fallen asleep in the process. He had spilled forward out of the chair, and although his butt rested on the seat of the chair he was conked out drooling on Jirou’s blanket.

The events of the previous night, or rather of the early morning, came back to Jirou. Mostly. The were a bit fuzzy around the edges, but nothing important was lost.

She felt a flash of irritation, and raised her hand fully intending to smack the idiot awake, and to berate him for his half accurate source, and drooling all over her leg, the liquid had seeped through the blankets. However, the flash of irritation passed, and something warm filled her chest.

The hand came down slower, and more softly than originally intended. She gently tucked a bit of his hair that had come to fall into his face behind his ear, and she left her fingers fondly trace his cheek.

A soft smile fell into place on her face. He saved me, huh.

As quickly as the soft expression had appeared it was wiped away, and the gentle caress on the slumbering blonde’s face turned to a pinch.

“Ow, ow, ow!” His eyes opened, and took in the situation.

“Jirou! You’re awake!” He snapped back to sitting upright, pulling his cheek from Jirou’s grip.

He jumped onto the bed, crushing Jirou in a tight hug.

“I was worried!”

As Jirou tried to free herself from his crushing grip she asked, “Really?”
“Well, yeah! Recovery Girl said you should be fine after a few hours rest, but with head injuries nothing’s for sure. You were really out of it after the explosion last night. I was kinda scared waiting for you to wake up.”

“Huh.” She stopped fighting the hug as she considered the blonde’s words.

“What is it?” Kaminari released her to draw back, and look her in the eyes.

“Nothing, it’s just, I didn’t know you worried.”

“Of course I worried! I’m so so so so so so so so so so sorry! I swear I thought my information was right.”
“Well, they were right about the bomb.” Jirou offered, “And the location.”

“Still, you got hurt because of me. I’m sorry.”

She sighed again, “It’s not a big deal. Heroes get hurt all the time.”

“But it was my fault .” Kaminari asserted dully. “Ow.” He hadn’t seen Jirou’s hand coming, and therefore hadn’t been able to dodge the solid smack upside the head.

“Hey. It’s a part of the job. Like I said heroes get hurt all the time.”

“But it was-”

“Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah! No, buts! It wasn’t your fault it was whoever planted the stupid bomb. You got that?”

“Okay.” Kaminari conceded. “Oh! I forgot! I was supposed to get someone to check up on you once you woke up. I’ll be right back!”

As Jirou watched Kaminari’s retreating back the soft smile returned to her face once more. Just for a moment, she let it stay there.

Chapter Text

“The fuck’re you doing to my tail?”
“It’s very soft.”

“So, what? You Dunce Face all of a sudden?”
“Fluffy too.”

“Stop it.” The werewolf growled.

“Why?” The heterochromatic vampire continued to pet, and stroke, the blonde tail fluffed with irritation.

“Because I fucking said so!”
He swished his tail from the annoyances hands, and tickled him in retaliation.

A laugh came from the blood sucker with the two toned hair without his consent.

“Stop it!” He giggled out.

The werewolf flushed, unused to the soft smile that lit the fanged nuisance’s features. ‘Fuck!’

He stopped the ministrations of his tail, and the laughs died out. The sound of pants as the undead caught his breath filled the silence between the two. Until-

“Why are you blu-”

“I’m not blushing!”
“Yes, you-”

“No, I’m not!”

A look of thought crossed the scarred face before it morphed into a predatory smirk.

“Oh, really?”

The blonde’s wrists were grabbed with inhuman strength, and he was pinned to the floor beneath the hungry looking vampire. The werewolf struggled against the tight grip, but the hold was unbreakable as unforgiving manacles. The Todoroki family was a line of strong purebred vampires. A bitten werewolf’s strength was nothing against the power that was the result of centuries of a carefully chosen bloodlines mergers to form the unflinching force that was Shouto.

“Let go!” The blush only brightening at the new found position, and imbalance of power. A knee pressed between his legs, forcing thighs apart.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” The knee grinded against the bulge constrained by ripped jeans that the werewolf was fighting to will out of existence. However, at the friction a combination of a whimper, and a mewl of arousal forced its’ way from the half canine’s mouth.

‘Yes!’ He longed to shout, but bit his lip instead. The werewolf feared what other sounds of submission may escape his mouth were he to open it to voice his objections.

The vampire dipped his head to lap at the subdued werewolf’s neck.

A moan saturated the air, and the werewolf’s muscles could be felt going from tense to slack to tense again all in a matter of seconds.

“Is this, a scent gland?” A smirk could be felt against the sensitive skin, before it was nipped lightly. No skin was broken, but fangs could be felt in the teasing bite. A playful threat. Hips pushed into the knee involuntarily.

The blood sucker laughed. “Does this puppy want some more attention elsewhere?”

Wrists were transferred to one hand, the other traveled south to rip open already ripped jeans, and expose Katsuki’s arousal.

He shook his head.

“Don’t lie to me.” The shaft was stroked, fingers gathered precum before drifting past the hard member to trace Katsuki’s hole.

Katsuki’s breath caught in his throat.

“Now are you going to be a good boy for me.”

Katsuki couldn’t breath. Air refused to fill his lungs. How do you breath again? Something to do with the diaphragm?

“Ah!” There was a sharp intake of breath as Shouto’s finger breached Katsuki’s entrance. He pushed in deep, probing, searching for something.

Another loud moan.

“Looks like I found your sweet spot. You like that?”

Furry eared head nodded feverently. ‘Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck! Touch it again!’

He moaned again as Shouto added another finger, and slammed into his spot. Fingers scissored the tight hole, stretching it, preparing it.

“Good boy.” Katsuki’s tail wagged as a warm feeling filled his chest at the praise.

He tired to push his hips back as fingers pulled out, and as he was held in place he whined at the loss. His hole clenched around nothing. He whined again.

“Sh, sh, sh, sh, sh, sh, sh, sh, shhhhh. It’s okay.” The hands at his hips flipped the dazed werewolf over, and pulled his hips into the air. Tired attempts to get his arms under himself proved fruitless for the werewolf, and he ended up with his right cheek pressed to the ground, his ass raised in the air.

“There we go. Now your presenting like a proper bitch. Eager to be fucked.”

Shouto’s fingers teased at the hungry entrance. It fluttered at the touch.

“Just trying to suck me in aren’t you?”

‘Fuck fuck fuck fuck yessssss.’ Katsuki whined again in need.

“I’m afraid you’re gonna have to use your words to get what you want, little puppy.”

‘Fuck!’

Shouto leaned over Katsuki, and sucked hard on his scent gland licking at it all the while.

“Please!”

“Please, what?” Shouto as though he hadn’t the faintest clue as to what Katsuki could possibly be asking for.

“Fuck me! Please fuck me! Fuck me, please!”

“Good boy.” Shouto pulled out his hardness, and rubbed it with spit and precum before pressing it to Katsuki’s hole.

Just as the impatient werewolf pushed his hips back, Shouto thrust forward, thoroughly impaling Katsuki on his monstrous-pun intended-dick.

“Hahh~!”

Shouto set a fast, and hard pace, and Katsuki just slumped forward, and took it moaning like crazy.

Eventually Shouto’s thrust became uneven, and his cock was twitching.

“I’m going to cum.” He panted out. It reminded Katsuki of the way he sounded talking while being tickled. Out of breath.

It wasn’t much longer before Shouto came with a shout. Shoving in deep one last time before filling Katsuki up.

The werewolf came with a cry as well at the feeling of cum rushing into his ass.

“Good boy.” Shouto petted the blissed out blonde’s soft ears as he caught his breath. Katsuki’s hole clenched around the cock still shoved up his ass as he orgasmed, his untouched dick shooting all over the ground, and his chest.

“Good boy.”

 

Chapter Text

Deku cried a lot.

He’d always been made fun of for his overactive tear glands.

Team mates would often throw water bottles at him joking, “Don’t wanna get dehydrated!”

Coaches may have thought it was a thoughtful gesture. In reality it was a pointed taunt.

He cried when he was happy, he cried when he was sad, he cried when he was angry.

The several times he’d broken an arm in games he hadn’t shed a tear, determined to keep playing. No one had realized it was broken till the last touchdown was scored, the game won.

The coaches yelled at him, the doctor berated him, his mom gave him a tearful scolding about the permanent damage he could wreck on his body. He’d managed to keep his eyes mostly dry during the first two encounters, but with his mom his tears had joined her own on the floor.

He didn’t like making her worry.

Ever the team player aren’t you, Izuku ?”

He wouldn’t have to worry about doing that ever again.

Not a shred of self preservation in your body.

Help me bring in the groceries won’t you?

Run!

Deku shook his head. Trying to keep his eyes free of tears. Trying to shake the memories.

Deku cried a lot.

He hadn’t shed a single tear in the last seven days. The only liquid that dripped from his face had been blood.

Mom’s blood.

His blood.

Who even knows who else’s blood.

So much blood.

Splattering his face.

Coating his hands.

Drenching his clothes.

He smelled off death as strongly as the living corpses he’d dealt a second end to, a final rest.

No bites yet. Scratches either. A chunk had been bitten out of his practice pads. He hadn’t changed out of them yet, having just gotten home, before his mom asked his help. The same one that’d gotten her had taken the chunk out of Deku’s pads. Deku had taken his head.

Some might call it even. Not Deku.

There was nothing on earth he could ever do to the now dead undead creature that had ripped the life of his mother away from him that could ever make things even.

Deku was alone. Had been since that horrible day seven days ago. He wasn’t sure how many he’d killed that first day. Everything after the life had left Inko’s eyes was a bit of a blur to be honest. He’d vaguely kept track of his kills, but really gave up on trying to track once the count hit triple digits.

They lived in a city.

Not a town.

A city.

The places with the highest population were hit the hardest.

They lived in an apartment.

It was a bloodbath.

Resting, trying to keep the images of the many skulls he’d bashed in from playing in his mind’s eye. Trying to forget the carnage everywhere. Men, women… children. The little girl that lived down the hall. She always loved picking wildflowers. Would make little bouquets, tie them together with grass, offer them to all who lived in the complex. Everyone said she’d make a wonderful florist one day when she grew up.

She’d never grow up.

She’d never get that flower shop she could talk about for hours on end to any who would listen.

She’d never pick another flower again.

As Deku had been leaving, still clad in pads, sports bag slung over one shoulder, rucksacks full of various supplies slung over the other, bat in hand, he played more than just football after all, he’d seen her. The destroyed skull, the bite mark clear on one arm, the other missing.

Did I do that?

Midoriya had asked himself. He hadn’t been able to remember.

Without knowing what possessed him to do so, Midoriya had scooped her mangled, limp, bloody body into his arms. At the edge of a the building there was a patch of blooming buttercups. He set her down for her final rest on the bed of flowers.

He almost wished he could say he’d cried then. That at least one tear had tracked its’ way down his bloodied cheek, washing away some of the grime that had so quickly gathered. But his eyes remained dry. His cheeks failed to become tear stained, stained instead with the evidence of the death he had rained down upon so many.

Deku cried a lot.

Still, his eyes remained dry.

He had stolen the car that looked most intact. It was a blue truck with a mostly full tank of gas, without any real damages. Just an unsettling amount of blood.

The engine was still running.

Keys in the ignition.

He didn’t have a license.

Midoriya had driven it out of the city.

He had stopped at the first house in the countryside he could find. Luckily, it had seemed that whoever owned it wasn’t home, and they used a key in a rock. It wasn’t too spacious, which was good. The less nooks and crannies there were for things to be lurking in the better.

First, Midoriya searched for any food, water, supplies, and tested the electricity as well as running water. He found a fair amount of canned food, and the taps were working. He filled everything meant for containing liquid full of water as quickly as he could. There was no telling when the water might stop working.

Next, he barricaded the windows, and locked the doors.

Midoriya then took stock of his supplies, and after he’d taken care of everything he could think of he took a bath. He would have preferred a shower. Let all the blood, dirty, sweat, and grime wash away down the drain. The only problem with that was that a shower was loud, he may not hear someone force their way inside the house, and he had no one to keep watch.

Paranoid, and on edge, Midoriya chose the more quiet option.

Merely getting in the water, and giving himself a soapless wipe down turned the clear tub of water into a reddish brown murky looking soup of blood, and filth.

Midoriya drained the tub, and filled it again. This time he used shampoo to wash his hair, scratching the gel into his scalp with more force than necessary. It’s a wonder he didn’t bald himself.

Being an athlete, Midoriya took a lot of showers. He was pretty quick of it. He had to be. He was the type to wash the hair, wipe the pits, and privates, and get out.

Soap was scrubbed into every inch of his skin. Then into every single inch yet again. It took Midoriya a few minutes to realize the stinging sensation was due to the fact that his skin was a bright red from the feverence of his scrubbing, and he felt rubbed raw.

He drained the tub again. Rinsed his hair, and body. Used conditioner. He was never much of a conditioner kind of guy. His mom always admonished him for not using it. He washed the conditioner out.

He got dressed in fresh clothes. Long sleeves. Denim jeans. Socks, and tennis shoes. It was summer. Didn’t matter.

There was a small room with a washer and dryer in the house. Midoriya tried to wash the blood out of his soiled clothes, and did his best to clean his pads.

Kept his bat with him the whole time.

He took inventory of all the best potential weapons he could find in the house. Knives, gardening tools, blunt objects. He set up sound traps at all potential entrances in hopes that if the house was breached while he slept it would wake him up.

It had been about seven days since the world went to all hell.

It had been about seven days before he heard the sound of a car approaching in the distance. It seemed to be coming from the same direction as Deku’s home.

Another survivor? More survivors? The car appeared to see the house, and turned on the road to head towards it. Deku grabbed his bat, unsure of exactly what to do. The red jeep, splattered with blood all over came to a stop in front of the house. The engine was turned  off, and a tall muscular blonde climbed out.

‘Kacchan?’

No, his hair was a different shade of blonde. He didn’t wear his hair like that, and he wasn’t quite as strong or muscular.

As the mystery blonde turned recognition flashed in Midoriya’s mind.

As a freshman, making the varsity team, even if it meant riding the bench a lot, it also meant fierce competition, and truly challenging practices. The main reason he rode the bench as much as he did was because Midoriya had his heart set in being a quarterback, and good as he was, he wasn’t a match for the school’s star quarterback, Mirio Toogata.

Mirio Toogata, who never treated him like competition, but not in a demeaning way. Rather be acknowledged that they were teammates, and their mutual success was in each other’s best interests.

Mirio Toogata, who would give him throwing tips.

Mirio Toogata, that even though Midoriya knew he was one of hundreds of friends for the upper class man, while the older was one of few for him, and a role model to boot.

Mirio Toogata, the one that climbed out of the car in front that farm house in the middle of the end of the world.

Midoriya opened the door, and clambered outside.

“Toogata?”

Mirio visibly jumped at the sudden presence of someone else, and whirled to face him. However, it was in an instant that a smile bright enough to light the way for lost travelers in the dark night lit the blonde’s face, and he ran to Midoriya.

The sudden charge startled the smaller boy, and he went to raise the bat in defense, but all to quickly he was being crushed into an unbreakable hug that forced his arms to his sides.

Mirio then pulled back to hold the startled teen in front of him getting a good look up, and down as though affirming he was real.

“Oh my word! I felt like I was the only one left alive on the planet!”

He surged forward again without a hint of warning, causing Midoriya to squirm in his grasp once again; Fighting for his freedom.

Freezing suddenly in his escape attempts as the blonde’s lips crashed into his. Stealing his breath away, and drawing all the blood to his head as Midoriya turned into a strawberry.

As quick, and harsh as their lips had connected Mirio pulled back again, and let out a half hysterical sounding laugh. Before pulling Midoriya into another crushing hug.

‘What… just… happened?’