The hero academic

"No."

The word fell out of Deku's mouth like a bark, all rough edges and venom. It had been a while since he'd said it. Lately, it had been all "Yes, Kacchan," and "Of course, Kacchan." When had he stopped saying no to things? Surely a long, long time ago, judging by how wrong it felt against his lips now.

"What?" Kacchan asked, as in disbelief as Deku. Both stared at each other, as if waiting for some explanation from the other. Finally, gathering his courage, Deku reiterated his response.

"No. I will not be… just your dog. I'm a person," Deku replied. "Sometimes I want to… do person things. Like read a book. Or talk to my mom. Do you know the last time I even saw her?"

It was a genuine plea. He couldn't recall if he had exchanged words with Inko Midoriya in months. The last stretch of his life was a haze– most of it blissful, but still a haze. He was shaking it from his mind now, and the difference was night and day.

He was not just a dog. Being Kacchan's was nice, but it had never really been what he wanted. If he thought back, he could remember a time when he harbored fantasies of being Kacchan's actual boyfriend. Somewhere along the way, he had convinced himself that being a dog was an acceptable substitute. No longer. Not when he was finally seeing the cost. He looked down at his hands, the stubby fingers shrouded in fur, tipped in blunt claws. He curled them into fists. It took a bit of effort, but it was still possible.

"I'm not your dog," Izuku said, resolutely. "I don't mind being that sometimes, but… not all the time. I won't give myself to you completely."

He looked into Kacchan's eyes, searching for some understanding. Which, yeah, all things considered and the man's mile-long track record, was a pretty stupid thing to anticipate. He was not met with a solemn nod and resignation. No, there was one emotion that Kacchan did better than all others, and it was the emotion with which he reacted to basically anything unexpected and/or inconvenient: fury.

"Get out," Kacchan snarled. The guttural sound that emanated from him would have put any junkyard dog to shame. In a matter of moments, he went from tranquil master to frothing beast.

"But–" Deku started. Kacchan's fist twisting his collar cut off all protest, along with all air. Deku was left gasping and scrambling as he was hauled forward.

There were so many things he wanted to say.

'Kacchan, I still want to be able to tell jokes to make you laugh.'

'Kacchan, I want to take care of you when you're old.'

'Kacchan, wouldn't you prefer the full love of a human to the shallow love of a dog? That's how I want to love you. With everything I've got, my full heart and mind.'

He did not get the chance. It was just as well– he couldn't convince himself that it would make any difference. From the very beginning, Kacchan had not been interested in a partner. He had wanted the simple, blind obedience of a dog. If Deku couldn't give him that– and he couldn't, he couldn't bring himself to do it– then he was useless. And Kacchan didn't have need for useless things.

With his free hand, he wrenched open the front door of his apartment. Beyond was the simple lobby and the elevator, Kacchan's premium penthouse being the only unit on this floor. At the very least, it meant Deku was spared from anyone else witnessing as he was thrown out on his doggy ass. He landed on his contorted tailbone, yelping at the force of it. After him landed the soft thud of the clothes they kept for outings, simple shorts and shirt.

"You're dead to me, you hear?" Kacchan said. Before Deku could respond, the door was shut.

Deku was all alone. Not just in the way he was usually alone when Kacchan was at work or out with friends. That was lonely, yes, but it was lonely in a nice penthouse with his person coming home soon. This was lonely in nowhere to go, no one to see, lonely like the last call at a bar with only the night outside waiting.

He would not have called it freedom.

However, he knew there was no going back. If he sat and pawed at the door, the best he could hope for was more fury and violence from Kacchan. More likely, the doorman would be called, and Deku would be evicted.

How old was he? He didn't have any sort of identification to check, and he didn't know the year. How long had he been with Kacchan? Long enough that everything from his old life was rotted away. He had no friends to call on, no job skills to ply, and basically no record of his existence. Any trace there was of Izuku Midoriya would point to a shy, awkward adolescent, and not the… strange dog man he had become. Anyone who had known him from before wouldn't recognize him.

So how did he start from scratch?

He wandered out of the apartment, stumbling over legs that didn't work right, out into the street. He had the clothes clutched in one hand, the collar around his neck. Probably didn't need the collar. He was a stray, after all. Reaching up, he tugged at it, fumbling over the catch. Eventually he got his claws to pry it open, ripped it off his neck and flung into the nearest dumpster. Good riddance. Goodbye. With awkward movements, he slipped into his clothes.

He was, perhaps, having a bit of a pity party. More accurately, he was probably suffering an acute existential crisis, but those words were very big and right now his brain was still operating monosyllabically.

He stumbled through the street, the very picture of 'stray puppy.'

Kacchan had dumped him. He was as good as dead. That's what Kacchan had said, and it was true. No one else would want anything to do with him, strange freak of nature with hands that didn't work right and brain that didn't work right, either, and all of that built around a human who had been useless in the first place.

It didn't take long for him to be completely lost in the streets. He had never wandered far, and he had always been with Kacchan. The tangle of buildings was very much like getting embroiled in a thornbush, snared by endless gray streets and not able to dig himself out.

Tonight, he would have nowhere to go. That should probably be his first concern: finding somewhere he could curl up and sleep through the night. He knew homeless people existed– dozens of them in this stretch of neighborhood alone. It was possible. He could survive.

Cautiously, he began evaluating alleys for possible makeshift motels. Perhaps behind a dumpster, where he would be sheltered from the passing eye. Oh, but not in a dumpster. He recalled that those were very dangerous. Something something getting put in with the garbage truck and compacted. Here was a dumpster, and there was a space, and what was that smell? Food smell, not dirty bad food smell, but fresh food smell. Still good five-second-rule food smell. From dumpster, not far down, recent? He was hungry, and no one was filling up his food bowl anytime soon. It would probably be best if he got it now, while the hunger ache was only just a little niggling and not a cramp that bent him in two.

Following his nose, he threw open the cover of the dumpster, and there it was– some sort of bread, heaps of it, thrown in the dumpster. Who threw out food? Restaurants threw out food. End of the night, all done for the day, make it fresh tomorrow. But it was fresh now, or as fresh as it could be. Edible, at least. Leaning in, Deku clawed through the plastic wrap it had been thrown out in, ate it with big, grateful bites. Yes, it was food from the garbage. He had been eating from a bowl on the ground for several months. He was not, perhaps, a very discerning culinary critic.

As he craned over the dumpster's edge, gorging himself on castoff carbohydrates, a voice called out to him.

"Hey!" the voice said, startled. Then again, as if offended. "Hey!"

The voice may be startled, but Deku startled right back. He jumped, almost clattering himself against the vengeful upper lid of the dumpster, which was eager to swing back into place and entomb its contents. Deku whirled, on high alert. He expected… something terrible, surely. Here he was, some sort of ungodly dog demon raiding the garbage. Perhaps he expected a pitchfork and mob. Instead, there was a young man, possibly still pubescent judging from the smattering of acne on his face. Lean, awkward, hair hidden under a hat emblazoned with a pizza slice, looking a little starstruck to see the dog monster digging through his garbage.

"Uh, sir, you're really not supposed to be back here."

'Sir.'

That's right– in his isolation, Deku had forgotten that the world was full of mutant types. It was perhaps not so unusual to see someone with animal features walking around in broad daylight. After all, this was not the dark ages of quirks– they had mutant types on top of the hero billboard. Deku was not some outlier of a freak. He was just a man with a lot of fur, tucking his tail between his legs and looking incredibly penitent.

"No one was using the bread," he defended. "I thought it wouldn't hurt."

The man looked him up and down, expression guarded but not hostile.

"You have a point," the man said. "Look, I've got other stuff I'm throwing out, too. Like, stuff from the salad bar? I don't know, some of it is pretty gross, but if you want to take a look…"

"Really?" Deku asked, perking up immediately.

"Yeah, sure, just don't tell my boss."

With that, the stranger stepped aside and gestured into the building.

Never before in his life had Deku been offered so much kindness from a complete stranger, and he wasn't about to begrudge it. He rushed into the restaurant, eager for other foodstuffs he could pillage.

Upon closer inspection, he noted that the lone employee was probably a college student, young enough to be awkward, old enough to work closing shift. More than likely, they were close in age. Probably. If Deku could remember how old he was supposed to be.

"Wow, you throw this sort of stuff away all the time?" Deku asked, looking over the spread of leafy green armageddon. He could not resist a tail wag.

"Yeah. You're only allowed to keep it out a couple days max. I think that's like, the law or something?"

In between stuffing his face, Deku asked the man questions about himself. Tohru, ronin, hated working closing because it killed his nightlife, trying to find friends in the city because all his had gone off to university. The man was easy to talk to, obviously basking in the attention Deku gave him. And it was… easy to give him attention. Perhaps Deku had matured a little bit, or perhaps it was his dog brain that made him less nervous, but he found the socializing much easier than it ever had been before. He wasn't worried so much about the questions or answers, enjoying whatever flowed between them as he dug through the scraps.

"So are you, like, homeless or something?" Tohru finally asked.

"I guess," Deku replied. "It's a recent development. Hey, development! My words are coming back."

The more he talked like a normal person, the more he felt like a normal person. Funny to think it had been so close at hand the entire time.

"Gee, that's really rough. I feel for you," Tohru said. "Say, I'd love to, like, help you out. Uh… maybe you could do me a favor for some money?"

"Oh? I love helping people out! I wouldn't want to take too much money, though. I'm sure you're struggling with it, too, and I'd hate to take more than you can give and I'm not sure what I can even offer, being sort of short on marketable skills–"

"Have you ever had sex for money?"

Deku stopped his rummaging, looking up at Tohru and blinking in surprise.

"Um… no. I've always done it for free."

Tohru fished through his pocket, finally coming out with a fistful of bills.

"Look, all I've got on me is ¥3,000. I don't know what that'll get me, but, uh… I've always really liked… dog boys…"

"Wait, what?"

At this, Tohru flushed and found his sneakers very interesting.

"Yeah man, don't tell me no one's ever been interested in you for the fur stuff. Don't you know? That sort of thing… I'm not the only one, okay?! I've always wanted to be knotted. It's like… my dream."

Deku seemed to recall stumbling across… mutant fetish art. Yes, he had known it was a thing, with 'anthro-philes' or 'mutant chasers' being talked about on the internet. He had just never put himself in the category of 'mutant to be chased' before.

Hey, does that make Kacchan a–

"So what will it be?" Tohru asked. "You bang me over a table, I'll give you everything I have in my wallet. Out of the good of my heart."

Deku was still firmly in the realm of 'blindsided,' but he eagerly accepted. He needed the money, and he didn't mind the sex. Sex was nice.

Once Deku showed affirmative interest, Tohru was quick to drop trouser. He turned his back to Deku, legs spread, bent over the table.

It had been a long time since Deku had topped. Actually… had he? Certainly not in the traditional sense. Memories of adolescent frustration and pillows came to mind, of his dick locked away and useless. It wasn't right now. The cage had been off when Katsuki gave him the boot, and for the time being, he was free.

He was going to use it. Deep in his core, an animal growled and perked its head, waking from a long slumber. Even if he was a novice at this, he had instinct to guide him. Instinct was saying to push forward, to bury himself in that man.

Deku pushed down his pants, stumbled over them, caught himself by bracing against the man's back. The tips of his fingers, which terminated in black-tipped claws, dug in a little too tight, made red of the skin.

"Sorry," Deku apologized, immediately turning his fingers up, away from the delicate skin.

"No, it's… I don't mind it."

Deku let his hands glide along the skin, exploring the surface. All sensation was muted, translated through a filter of fur, but still he could appreciate how smooth the man was. Tohru must have shaved, because his body was as glossy and flawless as porcelain. It made quite the contrast to Deku's hide, mottled everywhere in a haze of green fur. Now that he was once again playing the part of a person, Deku felt self-conscious about how ridiculously hairy he was. It was for the best that his partner was turned the other way.

Grabbing onto the harsh jut of bony lovehandles, Deku ground against the body in front of him. He felt the plush bounce of asscheeks, pert and springy underneath him. In that cleft, he felt the heat, sandwiched his dick between and rolled his hips, letting the friction wash over him. He wasn't used to direct stimulation, and even a little bit of it had him ragingly erect in a matter of moments.

In front of him, Tohru hissed through his teeth, a tremor running through his body.

"What is it?" Deku asked.

"You're growling under your breath," Tohru said. "It's so hot. Do it more."

Deku hadn't even been aware. There was howling in his brain, certainly, but he hadn't consciously made any vocalizations. Chalk it up to one more effect of being dog-brained.

It didn't matter. Right now, he didn't want to sit around and analyze things. He wanted to fuck. His knot had begun to inflate, filling out the bottom of his dick in a blood orange swell. He wanted to bury it in something before it got too big.

He could feel the little bit of give right at the center, the hole that wanted to be filled. Tohru pushed back against him, moaning.

"Yes, yes, good dog, fill me up."

Deku had been called good dog before. It had been something he'd had to work for, earning it from Kacchan with effort and grit and a whole lot of sucking up. This came effortlessly, the result of him just seeking to pleasure himself. That sort of self-centered pleasure seeking was… nice.

Even without lube, he was oozing enough precum to ease the way. The tip of his dick pressed in, slowly but surely widening his partner and spreading him open. Tohru panted like a dog in a hot car. Deku matched him, out of politeness. The two heaved and grunted and made minute movements, until finally Deku was lodged firmly in his ass, his knot pressing up against the puckered hole.

"I'm going to have to push pretty hard to get it in," Deku said. "Maybe it would be better if I didn't."

"No!" Tohru gasped. "No, please, you've got to get it all the way in. That knot, or… or I'm not paying."

By this point Deku had forgotten that money was even on the table. He had been so zeroed-in on getting his dick wet that he had temporarily transported himself to a reality in which he didn't need money to live. However, now that he was back in the realm of capital, he was properly motivated. The customer was always right, and this customer was about to get his ass thoroughly demolished.

"Okay," Deku said. "Take a deep breath. I've never… had it inside someone before."

Deku backed up his hips, before jutting them forward and bumping up against that impenetrable barrier of ass. Despite the exhalation from Tohru, the man didn't tell him to stop. Deku decided to keep trying. With every thrust, he felt the sphincter give a little more, easing further and further up his shaft. Finally, there was a sensation like a rubber band breaking, and Deku felt his knot enveloped by something tight and hot and he let out a short howl.

He was inside his partner. That ass was around him. He could feel the jelly pulsing of those walls, the inner workings of this man. It made him cum immediately, and he felt like there was a lot of it. However, he couldn't see any of it because the knot acted as a perfect cork, keeping it all bottled up inside the recipient. If this man had been fertile, he would surely have been pupped-up by now. As it was, he was still squeezing and squishing around Deku, and the poor dogboy couldn't pull out just yet. Another orgasm was wrenched out of him, and then a tickling sensation that was the first verge of over-stimulation. Still the knot kept him locked in tight.

It really does what it was designed to do. I can't go anywhere until I'm done breeding him.

For lack of anything else to do, with his doggy brain demanding stimulation, Deku did his best to thrust. However, his dick was still lodged firmly in there, and all it really amounted to was pushing his seed deeper into the man. Tohru didn't seem to mind.

"Oh god, oh fuck, yes, good dog!"

The praise made Deku's tail wag. He was a pleased little pup, and affirmation mixed with afterglow.

When finally his dick had de-engorged itself and he slipped free, poor Tohru leaked like a broken fountain. The man laid half-supported on the table, panting and red-faced.

"Are you okay?" Deku asked. It had been a pretty intense session, and he didn't want to be responsible for breaking his benefactor. It would be an inauspicious way to begin his life as a free dog.

"Never better," Tohru mumbled into the tabletop. "That was amazing. Everything I ever dreamed. Here."

With languid movements, the man offered up his wallet, and Deku pocketed what was inside. It wasn't a ton of money, but it was more than he'd had a few minutes ago.

"You should probably go," Tohru said, finally getting the energy to pull his pants back up. "I have to finish closing and leave before my boss gets mad at me for working overtime.

"Sure. Of course. Thank you again."

"No," Tohru replied, making pointed eye contact. "Thank you. "

When Deku exited the store, it was with a spring in his step. He had been well fed, and he had a bit of money. It was enough that he could start to plan.

He decided that he should live frugally until he could figure out next steps, but that didn't mean he wanted to sleep outdoors. With his tiny treasure trove, he made his way to a manga cafe and rented a booth. The smell of slightly mildewing paper and cheap snacks was comfort to his senses, which had been battling against urban decay for the afternoon. When he finally had his own little space, he curled into a tight ball and finally allowed himself to sink a little into despair.

He had gotten lucky. He couldn't expect it to last. Unless he was willing to eventually sleep on the streets like a true stray, battling fleas and rats, he would eventually have to find some means of steady income. Spontaneous prostitution didn't seem like a reliable source of money.

However, what place would employ him? He had graduated from high school, but with mediocre grades. By that point, he had known he was moving in with Kacchan and pupping full time, so he hadn't bothered with college or academic excellence. He had no work experience to speak of. Marketable skills? His once sharp mind was now dull with dog thoughts, and even his frantic ability to dictate and take notes was hampered by paws.

I could always go to mom for help.

But no, he couldn't. Not really. Going to mother would not only mean she had to see him in such a sorry state, but it would also mean admitting he had been wrong. Their last meeting had him so confident even as his mother wrung her hands and bemoaned his fate. Even though Inko wasn't the type to say 'I told you so,' her devastated anxiety would be enough. Deku wouldn't be able to live with it.

No, he was going to deal with this on his own. The streets before his mother's couch. That was the only honorable way, and Deku still cared about that. Even a dog had honor.

Miserable and anxious, he curled tighter into a ball and went to sleep.

Something miraculous happened the next morning when he woke.

He ventured out of his booth to use the bathroom, only to find an employee in there mopping up a mess.

"Oh, sorry to be a bother," Deku mumbled, back-stepping towards the door.

"Hey, no problem, little guy. It will just be a moment."

The employee smiled at him. Granted, that was their job and Deku understood that. However, that had never stopped people from being short-tempered with him before, and he was honestly quite surprised and tickled by the behavior.

And then it happened again as he stood outside in the hallway waiting for the bathroom to open up. An employee passed by pushing a cart, and they looked Deku up and down and smiled.

"I like your tail," she said as she passed.

Of course. Everyone loved a puppy. Deku had known this intellectually, but it was just starting to sink in: the way people perceived him as a dog was better than they had perceived him as a person. Against all odds, his freakish makeover actually worked in his favor.

He didn't have to be the same nerdy, unlikable Izuku as before. He could be a new Izuku, one that was sociable and beloved and got along with people. That was his ticket to a fresh start.

Filled with youthful enthusiasm, Izuku took his new outlook on life up to the front desk and asked if they had any positions open, tail wagging all the way. He was directed to the manager, an older lady whose pinched face softened when she saw the eager pup in front of her.

"I know lots about manga!" Izuku eagerly explained. "Or, well, I used to. I haven't read any in a while, but I'm a fast reader and I'd love to pick it back up!"

He was practically yipping with excitement, bouncing on his heels. Finally, his ability to memorize useless trivia would come in handy. He could give recommendations and make cute displays of what was current and tell customers the name of a title off the top of his head.

"Well, we need a new stockboy," the manager said. "Mostly in the back, helping organize things and unpack new titles. Cleaning up when it's not busy. Maybe working the register overnight, since that shift is hard to fill and you," here she looked Deku up and down carefully, "look like maybe you don't have much else to occupy your time."

"I'll do it!" he said. Here his tail wagged hard enough that it smacked against a shelf, sending a couple copies of One Piece to the ground.

"Whoops, let me get that."

The manager sighed, but she couldn't stay frustrated for long. After all, it was very hard to stay mad at a puppy.

Deku thought maybe the future was looking up. Peeing presented a challenge.

One of the effects of all the body modification Dr. Moreau had done was that Izuku's dick had become more dog-like. That included a sheath, as well as slightly rotating positions so it now pointed down when he was on all fours… which was an awkward position when he was bipedal. Using urinals was next to impossible. These days, Izuku used a stall. If he braced himself on the back of the toilet and leaned over far enough, he could get his dick pointing such that piss went more or less where it was supposed to.

(The urge to pee all over everything was still strong. Why was he wasting all this piss?)

Being human was hard, but little by little, Izuku was making strides forward. He worked during the day, slept in the manga cafe overnight. His boss was patient with him when he screwed up, which was often. Whenever anyone got frustrated with him, all he had to do was wag his tail and they softened.

The toilet bowl echoed with a splattering of noise, most of his pee hitting the water below. During the early afternoon, before college students started coming in, the place was mostly abandoned. Izuku preferred privacy to do his business. While most people liked the cute little puppy boy, he had a feeling that might change if they saw just how fucked up his body was.

(Then again, that one boy in the alley hadn't minded. Maybe some people would enjoy it.)

Once he was done with his business, he struggled to zip up his pants. On the suggestion of one of his coworkers, he had filed his nails down so they would stop getting in the way. Trying to do things like turn pages or handle cash and accidentally mauling things had gotten old very fast. So now his once-pointed fingertips were softened, the obsidian nails filed down to a reasonable nub. It still didn't fix the fact that his fingers were stubby and ill-suited to most tasks.

But he was managing. Bit by bit, every day, he learned new coping strategies.

Izuku washed his hands, enjoying the sharp scent of soap. Maybe some things about being dog-brained were difficult, but he sincerely enjoyed the way his smell had been enhanced. Tail wagging, he exited the bathroom to return to the rest of his shift.

Kyoko was at the register. Due to his lack of dexterity and easy distractibility, Izuku was usually kept on cleaning and restocking duties. Normally he didn't mind. Dealing with people could get overwhelming very fast, even if most of them liked him. Especially if they liked him. But today, Kyoko was fiddling with the television, flipping through channels since there were all of 3 customers out in the public part of the cafe, each hunched over a coffee and minding their own business. She was probably looking for a k-drama to watch.

However, what she got was a news bulletin, and the dour face that flashed onscreen was enough to make her pause. Izuku couldn't blame her. Katsuki was very handsome.

It had been a while since Izuku had seen hero news. Occasionally he saw customers scrolling through feeds on their phones, but with no web access himself, that world had been completely cut off to him. He thought of it as his past life, a time that still felt surreal. But no, heroes hadn't gone anywhere. Especially not this hero.

The banner at the bottom of Katsuki's displeased face read 'Hero Dynamight under investigation for excessive force allegations.'

Izuku hadn't seen Katsuki's face in… how long? It was as beautiful as ever, even when it was puckered up into a half-snarl. He could practically hear the insults pouring out of that mouth, telling him to try harder, that he needed to get better. Old habits died hard, and Izuku immediately felt the urge to drop everything and go to him, tail tucked between his legs. So what if he was living on his own? So what if he had found a way to make money, to support himself and live something like a normal life? It was a life without his Kacchan, and suddenly it felt empty enough to echo.

Kyoko turned up the volume, obviously intrigued by the broadcast. However, even as the newscaster droned on about the details, Izuku couldn't absorb it. He was too lost in golden lips, bronzed skin. In eyes that saw through all the bullshit, directly to someone's core. When Kacchan looked at you, you knew you were being judged, but you knew the results wouldn't be a lie. If Kacchan said you were shit, you were shit. But if he said you'd done something good, you could finally believe it. Deku had spent so much of his life wanting to hear those words from Kacchan.

"Can't believe he's tanking his career this fast," one of the customers remarked, looking up from his phone on the screen. "He's practically speed-running getting off the top ten at this point."

"Take that back," Deku barked, his gaze snapping to the customer.

"What?" the boy asked, blinking in confusion. "Bro, have you kept up with the news? The dude has caused so much collateral damage the past couple of weeks. I heard his hero insurance is dropping him."

"Kacchan is amazing," Deku responded, unyielding and undoubting. If the news was saying bad things about Kacchan, then the news was lying. It was as simple as that.

"Um, if you mean Dynamight, I'm sorry for your loss if you stan. It's not too late to switch to idolizing a hero that doesn't have sociopath vibes."

In hindsight, Izuku was willing to admit he acted rashly. However, even then he would not concede that it was a mistake. Kacchan's honor had been insulted. He had been called to arms.

Deku leapt on the man, yowling and barking like a mad dog. The poor boy went wide-eyed like some grain-fattened pig that finally understood it was being led to butcher, squealing and raising his hands to shield himself.

Deku had never intended him harm. He was only going to grasp the scruff of the man's shirt in his teeth and shake it back and forth like it was a live weasel, shake him until the man admitted that Kacchan truly was the best and all doubters and haters were some shade of delusional. However, he wasn't given a chance to get that far. He'd barely even touched the man's clothes with his teeth when he felt something solid whap against his behind. Yelping, he spun to see the manager wielding a broom, the handle gripped between her knobby old fingers like a slugger up to bat. She looked at him levelly, neither rage nor pity in her eyes.

"Out," she said. "You're fired. I can't have a rabid dog in here."

"But I–"

"Out."

And here she hefted the broom with such confidence that Izuku knew he would not escape a confrontation with it unscathed. He turned, tail tucked between his legs, and fled the store.

Everything that was good lasted such a brief amount of time. The small glimmer of self-sufficiency he had felt was wrenched from his grasp, replaced with the same aimless pawing through trash. He was back on the streets, and he had learned that they were not unbearable to sleep on. Awful, uncomfortable, cold, anxiety-inducing. But he was technically bearing them, so that meant they could not qualify as 'unbearable.'

He had never felt so defeated. Maybe he could get lucky twice and land another job. There were plenty of manga cafes in the city, and with a bit of puppish inquisitiveness, he could have someone direct him to one. But what good would it do? What sort of life was waiting for him there? A life without Kacchan, and he wasn't sure that was worth fighting for.

His face on the television had been a cold wake-up call. It had been like Izuku was dreaming, walking around in a haze, caught up in the task of trying to survive and trying to navigate himself. But ever so briefly, the clouds had parted and he had caught a glimpse of everything he was missing.

If his only option was to live as a freak, alone and barely scraping by, then he wasn't convinced it was worth the effort.

Still, the body had needs. He scrounged, filling his stomach, emptying his bladder, keeping the right cocktail of ingredients inside his flesh prison to keep it hobbling along. Inside, though, he was as good as dead.

It didn't take long to get good at dumpster diving. As long as he did it after the lights went off in a place, he was left alone. Bread was the best. It didn't get messy like sushi places or burger joints or sloshed out bowls of soup. He could take a few pieces intact, munch on it in whatever corner he was holing up in for the night.

He was on one such food run, bent over the metal edge of a dumpster, pawing through other bits to search for leftover rolls, when he was found. The voice that called to him wasn't at all shocked or confused. It was confident, as if it knew exactly who he was and had been searching for him for a while.

"Hey youse!"

Izuku reared back from the dumpster, landing on his feet and ready to run. He hadn't had an encounter with the police yet, and he wasn't eager to start.

However, the man that stood surveying him, far enough away to be safely out of reach, did not look like a cop. He wore a pinstriped suit, hair slicked back, briefcase clutched in one hand. He looked like either a very refined gangster or a very sleazy businessman.

"I've been looking for ya," he said, taking a step forward and offering his hand. His smile was white, white, white. "Heard about a local dog man haunting these streets, and I gotta say, I think you're missing your true calling. Wasting your potential!"

Izuku eyed the hand. It did not seem dangerous. He eyed the man it was attached to. He was less sure about that.

Noting Izuku's skittish behavior, the man lowered his hand and said, "Tachibana Kiyoshi's the name. I'm something of an entrepreneur, and I got an offer for you."

Ah, so a businessman, then. Definitely dangerous.

"How do you feel about showing off that body of yours?"

"You mean like sex?" Izuku asked. That had worked out well last time. One of the easiest jobs he'd ever done. Not to mention, he had been missing sex.

"Look at you, quick on the uptake," Tachibana replied. "Yeah, yeah, something like that. Listen, I specialize in a certain type of filmography. I got an eye for this stuff, know how to appeal to my demographic, you dig? Come to my set, we do a round of filming, I pay you more money than you've ever clutched at once in your little doggie paws. Sound good to you?"

It did sound good to Izuku. More than the money (even though money and a clean bed and something fresh to eat sounded very, very good), the idea of someone intentionally seeking him out, wanting him, was enough to get his undying loyalty. If he could once more get the adoration of someone, or even their lukewarm toleration, that would be enough for him to summon the will to live.

He followed the man blindly back to his set like a lost puppy. It was located in a surprisingly ordinary building. It could have been a dentist's office from how bland it looked on the outside, plain brick and double glass doors. There was a sign that read Tachibana Productions outside.

"You use your name on your porn business?" Izuku asked, astounded.

"Oh, for the public-facing part, sure. Online we go by ' Studio Fur Fly .'"

Amazing, Izuku thought to himself. He didn't know there were such places like this in the middle of the city, hiding behind a veneer so ordinary it would repel curiosity. He had always assumed that porn was filmed in… somewhere. Somewhere seedy, with trash strewn out front and a bouncer at the front door scowling. But inside, it looked even more like a dentist's office. There was a reception area, some couches that looked uncomfortable in the way waiting room couches were.

"We do the actual filming in the back, usually in the evening so we don't risk upsetting our neighbors. Gotta keep things on the down-low, you know?" Tachibana said with a wink.

He led Izuku to the door in the back, which had a little security box he punched numbers into. When fed the correct code, it happily cheeped and the lock clicked open. With a flourish, Tachibana held the door open, gesturing for Izuku to make his way inside.

When Izuku stepped through the doors, he was temporarily blinded. Enormous lights blared down from the ceiling. There was a tired man in a loose-fitting shirt and beanie fiddling with a camera. Not a dinky handheld camera, either. It was large, almost like something that would be on the set of a sitcom. It was angled toward a bed, on which sat a couple of mutants. Anthros, just like him.

"Wait, so… are all your porn stars… furries?" Izuku asked.

"You bet, kid," Tachibana replied, clapping him on the shoulder. "Listen, everyone's got their tastes. There's a huge market out there that loves mutants. An under-served community, if you ask me, especially because they're willing to pay a premium. And what do furry freaks love more than anything?"

Izuku was at a loss. He knew a little bit about such things from his time online. It was inescapable in a modern society. His first guess would have been inflation, his second vore. Neither of those were things he was very eager to act out in front of a camera, no matter how well he was being compensated.

"Dog dick!" Tachibana explained when he was slow on the uptake. "Big, buff wolf men. Fat knots! Sure, you're a little on the scrawny side, but I figure we get you a personal trainer and we can whip you into anthro heartthrob status in no time. Trust me, kid, you're gonna be a star. Uh, your dick does do the knot thing, right?"

"Yes," Izuku replied, too thunderstruck to address any of the other points. "My dick does… the knot thing."

"Excellent! Then yeah, you're hired. We wanna do a casting shoot with you just for promotional purposes. You'll be paid, of course. No one works for free around here, am I right?"

This last part was directed towards the other people in the studio, who all gave varying degrees of disinterested assent. No one seemed particularly interested in Izuku, for better or worse– they were all preoccupied doing their jobs.

On the bed, the two anthros were feeling each other up. Izuku took keen notice of both of their cocks, since he suspected that would be an important factor in the upcoming festivities.

"So where exactly do I fit into this?" Izuku asked. He was starting to get nervous. He had never been much of an actor, and he'd never been part of a threesome. He wasn't sure he could perform adequately.

"The middle, of course!" Tachibana replied. "Ojoubuta, Honippon! Come greet your new costar. You'll be running him through the hoops."

One of the costars, draped in a baby pink nightgown that matched pig-pink skin, held out a hand for Izuku.

"Charmed, darling. I hope we can have tons of fun together. Just be gentle with me. I'm a lady."

Izuku took the offered hand and shook it awkwardly. He couldn't stop staring at her russet lips, the false lashes with glitter in them, the waves of blonde hair that obscured her shoulders. They did not, however, obscure her breasts, which poked out plump and perky from her chest. The nightgown was held together at her waist just barely by a string, and right underneath it poked a slender pink cock.

"Ojoubuta, I'm guessing?" Izuku said. It was obviously a false name, which he figured was probably common for this line of work. "Then that must make you Honippon."

The other anthro nodded with a grunt. He was massive, taller than Izuku even when sitting down on the bed, and he had a massive cock to match. He had the long, mirthless face of an equine, skin dark like dusk and a single horn sprouting from the center of his head, spiraling in silver a full foot in front of him.

"You're gonna be in the middle, huh?" he grunted. "What happened to the barnyard shoot I was supposed to do with Miss Buta here?"

"We'll reschedule," Tachibana said with a wave of his hands. "When it's warmer, we can take you two to an actual barnyard and have some real fun, okay?"

Honippon blew out a gust of air that flapped against his lips. "Fine," he said. "I guess guy or girl doesn't matter too much."

The unicorn moved over to make room on the bed for Izuku. Still a little intimidated, Izuku shuffled up on the bed next to him.

"So, um, are there any lines I need to learn?" he asked.

Ojoubuta gave a laugh, hiding her mouth behind one hand, but it wasn't mean-spirited. With a twinkle in her eye, she said, "We're really more about improv here in the house of fine adult films."

"Just get naked, get fucking, and act natural," Tachibana instructed. The cameraman behind him coughed, and Tachibana sighed and said, "Right, right, I'll butt out of your business and let you 'do your craft,' you snob."

Tachibana retreated to the sidelines, leaving Izuku in the spotlight with the two furries.

"All right," the cameraman said, pointing his camera at them. "Let's start slow. Just feel each other up, make out a little while I do some pans and close ups."

The other two stars followed the direction easily, and Izuku followed them. Warm hands pushed his shirt up, exposing his pecs and caressing them. Just like Tachibana had noted, he wasn't exactly a rippling pillar of muscle. He was thin, but the fluff of fur at least hid the outline of his ribs. Honippon wrapped leathery lips over one of Izuku's pointed ears and gave a light suck. This had Izuku gasping and letting his head loll back, resting it on the wide open planes of the unicorn's chest. Those planes were practically plains, expansive and warm and covered in a light, brittle stubble of fur like dehydrated grass.

Now that his neck was exposed, Ojoubuta leaned in and breathed warm exhalations all down his front. He felt the tickle of a tongue flicking against his jawline. He imagined that, too, must be pink as a flush. However, there was no girlish coquettishness in the way Ojoubuta worked him. Instead, there was salaciousness, assurance, a quiet confidence that she could get what she wanted.

Izuku forgot about the camera, which made it quite a surprise when its operator spoke up. "Okay, I want the dog undressed. Let's get you on all fours and show off that tail of yours."

His costars guided him, gently peeling the clothing from his skin. He was glad to be rid of it– it had followed him from Kacchan's house, and was probably filthy from the streets. He felt cleaner with it off, and more relaxed with warm hands running up and down him. The nerves were still there, but his partners were patient and professional.

He was thankful for the help posing. While he had a good deal of experience with sex, Kacchan had never much been interested in foreplay, let alone posing. He had no idea how to make himself sexy. If the many minute directions of the cameraman was anything to go by, he needed a lot of help with it.

"Arch your back a little. Good. Can you put your tail up? No, like over your back. It's curly, right? It's in the way of your hole– there we go. Like that."

It felt a bit ridiculous. He was asked to jut out his ass, to try and make it as big as possible. Then the cameraman instructed one of his partners to scritch under his chin, and apparently the results of that were extraordinary.

"Look at that tail wag!" Tachibana called from the sidelines. "Our fanbase is gonna eat this up."

"Quiet on the set," cameraman muttered under his breath. Then louder, to the actors. "Honippon, I need you to prep him. Ojoubuta, get underneath."

Just like that, a warm body slid underneath him.

"Hi," the pig princess said, looking up at him with fluttering lashes. "Come here often?"

"P-probably not as often as you," Izuku replied.

Ojoubuta found this very funny, and her hands gripped his head and pulled him down into a kiss. It was enough to distract Izuku from the sensation of cold lube splatting across his ass, drizzling down the crack and catching on the rim of his hole.

Don't think about how big his cock is don't think about how big his cock is–

Honippon's fingers were unfortunately as proportionately massive as his dick, and even one was a sharp shock to Izuku's system. He shuddered, an anticipatory ripple running up him. However, Ojoubuta wouldn't let him just close his eyes and take it. She demanded attention, and Izuku gave it to her as best as he could. They moved against each other, kissing, pawing. He felt the bump of her cock, and he aligned his own and rubbed against it. This part was easy. He'd done it plenty of times with Kacchan.

One finger turned into two, then three. Izuku was stretched so wide, gasping and shuddering.

"You can't come yet," the cameraman instructed. "We're still far from done."

Izuku appreciated the order. He enjoyed following orders, getting clear direction. Don't come. Spread his legs wider. Put the pig's tits in his mouth and suck. Everything had a languid pace to it, drawn out so that there was plenty of time to get it from different angles, to zoom up and in. When Honippon was ready to penetrate him, Izuku was instructed to put his ass up as high as it would go, to give the camera clearance to get underneath. This part, too, was drawn out. The audience loved to dwell on things, to see his hole being stretched wide and that cock sinking in. Izuku's pants and moans were not exaggerated– he really felt like he was fighting for each breath.

Once Honippon was seated inside, it was Izuku's turn to get into Ojoubuta. Even as much of a strain as Honippon was, this part was even more nerve-wracking. Izuku had next to no experience getting his dick inside someone, save for the restaurant that one time.

Fortunately, Ojoubuta was quite loose.

"That hole is never empty for long," she teased as Izuku sank inside. "Now get in there and fill it up with your knot."

This was no doubt said for the camera's benefit, judging from the nod of approval cameraman-san gave, but Izuku figured that was fine. She was obviously more at ease being filmed than him, and he admired her expertise.

Ojoubuta was squishy and plush. Her hole felt much more velvety than Tohru that one time, more like it had been anticipating him. His knot hadn't fully formed yet, and he was instructed to hold off until it had. The moneyshot, or so it was called.

So slowly, they took their time, the three of them working against each other. This part had the cameraman stepping back so he could get wider shots of them, and Izuku appreciated the distance. He felt less self-conscious of his facial expressions (absolutely wrecked) like this. Moans and growls fell from his lips, echoed by the animalistic sounds of his partners. They really were an absolute barnyard of an orgy, chasing after each other, panting and moaning.

He'd never considered it, but Izuku had a fair amount of practice at sex. Kacchan had never been shy about telling him when he needed to shape up, when he was doing lackluster, coaching/bullying him into better performance. It hadn't happened so often towards the final part of their relationship, and Izuku hadn't processed why that was: he was kinda good at this.

Izuku read the movements of his partners, what felt good, where to go harder. He let his ass grip just right around Honippon, enjoying the sharp bray the man let out. Meanwhile, he pushed Ojoubuta's legs back, until her knees were up around her rogued-up cheeks. She apparently liked it deep and rough, so that's what Izuku gave her.

"All right, nice and sloooow so I can get some shots of the knot, and then put it inside her."

At this point, Izuku was wrecked enough that he couldn't bring himself to be nervous. He welcomed the temporary reprieve, slowing his pace and letting his cock roll in and out of the pig beneath him. The thing gasped and trembled, but the look in her eyes said she wasn't even close to her limit. Izuku wished he had her stamina. He had a feeling that if he pursued this career path, he'd get there soon.

"Aaaaand knot. "

Izuku followed the direction, pushing in, feeling the constriction and the heat. Honippon helped him along, thrusting into Izuku and more or less ejecting him straight into that hole. All three groaned in symphony.

Okay, this has to make a really hot porn, because it feels amazing.

Shortly after, they were given the signal to 'finish it off on his face.' This meant his partners disentangling from him with a wet pull, and then Izuku looking up at two dicks, throbbing and ready to burst in his face. He closed his eyes and braced himself.

It felt like an absolute deluge of cum. More than Kacchan had ever splashed across him, certainly. Izuku took it all, felt it dripping down his forehead and into his eyes, tracing the shape of his nose. It was nice to be used. He felt his tail wagging.

"And that's a wrap," cameraman said. "We should be able to make something usable out of that."

"Oh, you're always such a pessimist," Tachibana said, pushing himself off the wall and striding over. "Just call it what it is– a sensation!"

His two partners helped Izuku to his feet, where he was offered a towel and began to clean himself up.

"As promised, here's your pay for today," Tachibana said. Izuku opened his eyes to see a massive wad of cash flashed in his face. "That's not all, kid. I got a room set up for you. No more sleeping on the streets. We need to take care of our star!"

"Star?" Izuku asked dreamily.

"Yeah! Say, what name are we putting on the credits? You ever thought of a porn name?"

He hadn't, actually, and on the spot his mind went blank. The only name that came to mind was one tried and true.

"Deku," he gave him. "I'd like to be credited as Deku."