atelophobia

(n.) the fear of imperfection or not being good enough

Katsuki was brash. Too rough, to aggressive for anything gentle like love. And what were you other than the sweetest thing he'd ever experienced?

He didn't deserve it, not a damn bit.

Maybe it was a punishment from the universe-- granting him permission to touch fragility itself's embodiment.

You, without a quirk. You, and his sand papery fingertips that run across the dunes of your body, gliding like a seabird.

What possessed his mind to wrap its affection around the one thing he always demeaned? Years ago, he would've looked down his nose at you.

So why does the thought of ever hurting you terrify him?

Never within his group of peers had he spare a thought of the intensity of which he touched them, or the pressure of which he'd grab or congregate with them.