Hi! I'm just here for creating stories!
Joined: 20 Oct 2025
a story about dekubaku where izuku is an enigma(it's a status like omega or alpha, extremely rare and unknown though) who has the ability to mix his slick into katsuki's food and turn the alpha into an omega, katsuki loves izuku's yandere side and it takes time for the slick to change katsuki, multiple doses in fact, katsuki's confused, but also had always believed that being an alpha wasn't right for him (he is under the impression that izuku is an alpha and katsuki has always had a crush on him) izuku's slick is addictive and katsuki can't identify it
The aroma of katsudon filled the common room, a familiar comfort that did little to soothe the uneasy twist in my gut. It had been three weeks since Deku started this… this ritual. Every other day, without fail, he’d slide a bowl of something he’d cooked just for me across the table with that unnervingly serene smile.
“You’ve been training hard, Kacchan,” he’d say, his voice soft, his green eyes holding a light that was both adoring and predatory. “You need to keep your strength up.”
And I, like a fool, ate it. Every time. Because it was Deku. And because whatever he put in that food…
It started subtly. A strange, phantom sweetness on my tongue that lingered long after I’d finished eating, a flavor I couldn't place but found myself craving at odd hours. Then came the dreams—vivid, disorienting things where scents were sharper and my own body felt alien. I’d wake up tangled in my sheets, skin buzzing, the ghost of that sweetness clinging to the back of my throat.
Tonight was no different. He’d made curry, rich and spicy, but underneath the heat was that note again. Metallic, yet floral. Like rain on hot pavement and something… alive.
“Is it good, Kacchan?” Deku asked, chin resting on his hands as he watched me from the other side of the table. His gaze was intense, unwavering. Most people found Deku’s stare unnerving, but I… I loved it. I loved the possessiveness in it, the sheer, unadulterated focus. It made my alpha instincts bristle on the surface, a low growl building in my chest, but deep down, something else hummed in satisfaction. No one else existed in those moments. It was just me and him.
“It’s fine,” I grunted, shoveling another spoonful into my mouth, my own eagerness embarrassing me. My body was betraying me, yearning for the food with an addict's desperation. “Don’t you have your own bowl?”
“I ate earlier,” he murmured, his smile widening just a fraction. “I prefer watching you.”
A shiver, hot and cold at once, raced down my spine. Fuck. Why did that make my heart pound? An alpha shouldn’t… shouldn’t relish being watched like a prize. But I did. I always had. Ever since we were kids, Deku’s obsessive attention had been the one constant, the one thing that felt unequivocally mine.
Later, back in my room, the confusion hit harder. I was pacing, restless. My skin felt too tight. My usual aggressive, dominating scent—explosive and smoky—seemed… off. Softer around the edges. I caught a whiff of myself and frowned. It was still alpha, unmistakably, but there was an undertone. Something almost… sweet.
I slammed my fist against the wall, the impact jolting up my arm. What the hell was happening to me? I thought of Deku. Always Deku. I’d spent my whole life thinking he was a latent alpha, one who’d present someday and finally be a rival worth my time. But he never did. Instead, he became this… enigma. No designation anyone had ever heard of. And he was stronger than me, now. He watched me with that terrifying, loving gaze that promised I would always be his.
And I fucking adored it.
A knock at my door, soft but insistent, broke me from my thoughts. I knew who it was before I opened it.
Deku stood there, holding a small glass of milk. “For the spice,” he said, his eyes gleaming in the dim hallway light. “I thought it might have been too much for you.”
It was a lie. A flimsy, transparent lie. The curry hadn’t been that spicy. But I took the glass. Our fingers brushed, and a jolt, electric and warm, shot through my hand. His scent washed over me—not alpha, not omega. It was that elusive, intoxicating aroma from the food, but purer, more potent. Ozone and damp earth. The scent of a storm about to break.
I drank the milk. It was cold, but it did nothing to quench the strange heat simmering under my skin. The sweetness was there again, stronger now, coating my throat.
“Thank you, Deku,” I muttered, unable to meet his eyes. I felt weak. Vulnerable. Alpha instincts screamed at me to assert dominance, to shove him away, to prove my strength. But a newer, quieter part of me just wanted to lean into the warmth of his presence.
He didn’t leave. He stepped forward, into my space, his hand coming up to gently touch my cheek. His thumb stroked just below my eye. “You look tired, Kacchan. You should rest.”
His touch was incendiary. My breath hitched. This was wrong. This wasn't how an alpha reacted to another… whatever he was. We were supposed to be rivals, fighting for the top. Not this… this quiet intimacy that felt more like a claiming.
“What are you doing to me?” The question slipped out, choked and quiet, stripped of all my usual bravado.
Deku’s smile was a beautiful, dangerous thing. Full of love and madness. “I’m taking care of you, Kacchan. Like I always have. Like I always will.”
He leaned in, and for a heart-stopping moment, I thought he was going to kiss me. Instead, his lips brushed my ear, his whisper a secret promise. “You’ve never been just an alpha. You’re so much more. And soon, you’ll see it too.”
He pulled away, leaving me standing there, clutching the empty glass, my body humming with a foreign need and my mind reeling. The door clicked shut, and I was alone with the ghost of his scent and the creeping, terrifying, exhilarating realization that the foundation of everything I thought I was—an alpha, a hero, a rival—was slowly, sweetly, being dismantled by the one person I'd never been able to let go.
The aroma of katsudon filled the common room, a familiar comfort that did little to soothe the uneasy twist in my gut. It had been three weeks since Deku started this… this ritual. Every other day, without fail, he’d slide a bowl of something he’d cooked just for me across the table with that unnervingly serene smile.
“You’ve been training hard, Kacchan,” he’d say, his voice soft, his green eyes holding a light that was both adoring and predatory. “You need to keep your strength up.”
And I, like a fool, ate it. Every time. Because it was Deku. And because whatever he put in that food…
It started subtly. A strange, phantom sweetness on my tongue that lingered long after I’d finished eating, a flavor I couldn't place but found myself craving at odd hours. Then came the dreams—vivid, disorienting things where scents were sharper and my own body felt alien. I’d wake up tangled in my sheets, skin buzzing, the ghost of that sweetness clinging to the back of my throat.
Tonight was no different. He’d made curry, rich and spicy, but underneath the heat was that note again. Metallic, yet floral. Like rain on hot pavement and something… alive.
“Is it good, Kacchan?” Deku asked, chin resting on his hands as he watched me from the other side of the table. His gaze was intense, unwavering. Most people found Deku’s stare unnerving, but I… I loved it. I loved the possessiveness in it, the sheer, unadulterated focus. It made my alpha instincts bristle on the surface, a low growl building in my chest, but deep down, something else hummed in satisfaction. No one else existed in those moments. It was just me and him.
“It’s fine,” I grunted, shoveling another spoonful into my mouth, my own eagerness embarrassing me. My body was betraying me, yearning for the food with an addict's desperation. “Don’t you have your own bowl?”
“I ate earlier,” he murmured, his smile widening just a fraction. “I prefer watching you.”
A shiver, hot and cold at once, raced down my spine. Fuck. Why did that make my heart pound? An alpha shouldn’t… shouldn’t relish being watched like a prize. But I did. I always had. Ever since we were kids, Deku’s obsessive attention had been the one constant, the one thing that felt unequivocally mine.
Later, back in my room, the confusion hit harder. I was pacing, restless. My skin felt too tight. My usual aggressive, dominating scent—explosive and smoky—seemed… off. Softer around the edges. I caught a whiff of myself and frowned. It was still alpha, unmistakably, but there was an undertone. Something almost… sweet.
I slammed my fist against the wall, the impact jolting up my arm. What the hell was happening to me? I thought of Deku. Always Deku. I’d spent my whole life thinking he was a latent alpha, one who’d present someday and finally be a rival worth my time. But he never did. Instead, he became this… enigma. No designation anyone had ever heard of. And he was stronger than me, now. He watched me with that terrifying, loving gaze that promised I would always be his.
And I fucking adored it.
A knock at my door, soft but insistent, broke me from my thoughts. I knew who it was before I opened it.
Deku stood there, holding a small glass of milk. “For the spice,” he said, his eyes gleaming in the dim hallway light. “I thought it might have been too much for you.”
It was a lie. A flimsy, transparent lie. The curry hadn’t been that spicy. But I took the glass. Our fingers brushed, and a jolt, electric and warm, shot through my hand. His scent washed over me—not alpha, not omega. It was that elusive, intoxicating aroma from the food, but purer, more potent. Ozone and damp earth. The scent of a storm about to break.
I drank the milk. It was cold, but it did nothing to quench the strange heat simmering under my skin. The sweetness was there again, stronger now, coating my throat.
“Thank you, Deku,” I muttered, unable to meet his eyes. I felt weak. Vulnerable. Alpha instincts screamed at me to assert dominance, to shove him away, to prove my strength. But a newer, quieter part of me just wanted to lean into the warmth of his presence.
He didn’t leave. He stepped forward, into my space, his hand coming up to gently touch my cheek. His thumb stroked just below my eye. “You look tired, Kacchan. You should rest.”
His touch was incendiary. My breath hitched. This was wrong. This wasn't how an alpha reacted to another… whatever he was. We were supposed to be rivals, fighting for the top. Not this… this quiet intimacy that felt more like a claiming.
“What are you doing to me?” The question slipped out, choked and quiet, stripped of all my usual bravado.
Deku’s smile was a beautiful, dangerous thing. Full of love and madness. “I’m taking care of you, Kacchan. Like I always have. Like I always will.”
He leaned in, and for a heart-stopping moment, I thought he was going to kiss me. Instead, his lips brushed my ear, his whisper a secret promise. “You’ve never been just an alpha. You’re so much more. And soon, you’ll see it too.”
He pulled away, leaving me standing there, clutching the empty glass, my body humming with a foreign need and my mind reeling. The door clicked shut, and I was alone with the ghost of his scent and the creeping, terrifying, exhilarating realization that the foundation of everything I thought I was—an alpha, a hero, a rival—was slowly, sweetly, being dismantled by the one person I'd never been able to let go.
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