Quick Choso thirst but like—
Him making this face after you’ve been acting like a brat.
He’s a patient man/curse. It takes a lot to piss him off, but the quickest way to do it is to do something that might harm yourself. Anything remotely dangerous or stupid sets him off.
Choso just snapping and having had enough, gives you one quick warning “Better start acting right, baby,” and when you don’t?
Then he’s treating you like the child you’re acting like. Grabbing you by the scruff of your top and hauling you effortlessly over his lap, his irritation so high and through the roof that it’s a wonder he’s being so controlled.
Then he’s yanking up/off your bottoms and revealing the smooth skin of your ass, placing his big rough palm over it almost like he’s going to soothe you…
Before he spanks you. Roughly and with precision, he’s bruising your cute little ass while you’re wailing/crying/whimpering for mercy. He’s showing none, he’s warned you several times, why won’t you take it seriously?
“Did’ya want this? If you didn’t you wouldn’t have acted so recklessly—,” he’s not letting up till you’re a blubbering mess, apologies rolling off your tongue like breathing air. He makes you count each swat to your poor tush, makes you tell him exactly why you’re being punished, and then makes you repeat it over and over until he’s sure you understand.
Then he ends it. Soothing your burning cheeks and cooing how well you did, brushing away the tears and sliding two fingers inside your hole while comforting you.
And just before you can cum he stops, reminding you that bad behavior doesn’t get rewarded.
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the first and last time bakugou katsuki received a solid, heartfelt confession, he was twenty-three.
of course, people have certainly crushed on him—especially once he became a pro hero and made such a huge name for himself. it didn't help that he had the looks to rival a god's, his face and body all chiseled angles and features that pronounced the ruby glow of his eyes and ash-blond of his hair. anyone with eyes knew he was handsome as hell—the only problem was when he opened his dirty, dirty mouth.
that didn't stop people from coming up to him in an attempt to spill their feelings, though.
but katsuki was... well, katsuki. he wasn't fucking dumb—he might not know how to deal with his own emotions, but that didn't mean he was fucking oblivious. he could read a room—he was perceptive. he didn't have time for people's stupid feelings. he shut them down immediately—before they could even get out a single word—not paying them any attention as he scoffed and carried on with his thunderstorm of a life. he was a goddamn hero. he had people to save, villains to fight, battles to win.
all his fans liked him for his hero persona anyways—great explosion murder god dynamight, the one to call when the toughest villain wreaked havoc on the streets. the one who went into battle with a wicked grin on his smooth face. the one who emerged victorious every single time, fist raised in the air triumphantly.
they didn't like him for him—bakugou katsuki, the one who always sat quietly in a corner to observe the people around him. the one who loved to cook in the kitchen, carefully crafting meals with rough, calloused hands. the one who woke up at the dead of night, sweating, shaking, due to the ghosts that haunted his dreams—his nightmares.
katsuki ignored it all, powering through his life surefootedly as he focused on his job, his work. he didn't let anything distract him—throw him—from his course as he aimed high enough to brush against the clouds.
but when he got confessed to by someone he was close to—someone he hadn't realized he was harboring feelings for until they stood right before him—he found himself stumbling, tripping, for once in his life.
katsuki, with all his strengths and weaknesses, had never gotten a full, heartfelt confession before—not one told directly to his face, and certainly not one he wasn't able to quickly shut down before.
it came from you—pretty, little you—with your hands wringing together as you nervously spilled out everything you liked about him. his confidence, his consideration, his sarcasm—fuck, his dumbass humor. you liked him for him, for katsuki, flaws and all. for his scars, for his fears. for the stupid fucking laugh he made, all raspy and grating. you touched his heart. you touched his soul.
and katsuki didn't know how to react.
how could he? he had never allowed himself to be put in this kind of situation before. he was shocked into silence, a flush crawling up his neck as he stood there and stared at you. his brain felt like it was short-circuiting, his throat was parched, his hands felt sweaty.
he was an asshole, yes, but he wasn't so much of one to not feel how sincere you were being. how hopeful you were as you looked up at him and told him it was fine if he didn't reciprocate. it was fine if he broke your heart—because of course you were selfless like that.
but katsuki wanted so badly to open his mouth and tell you he felt the same. he wanted so badly to give you a confession in return that ripped open his heart for you to see all that it had within. but he couldn't. he couldn't.
katsuki cared. he cared and he cared and he cared so much on the inside that he couldn't find the words to express it. he couldn't let himself be so fucking vulnerable, too afraid of what would happen. for all the strength he had, he couldn't open his mouth to tell you the words you deserved to hear.
so he gripped you by the shoulders. and he kissed you like his life depended on it—like you were the only thing that could keep him from drowning in the emotions he had no idea how to deal with after so many years of denying others and ignoring anything other than his work, his duties.
and he could only hope that you wouldn't leave his heart bleeding at his feet.
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