yeahH, bkdk’s first kiss with Katsuki having to slow down because of his heart, he pulls back and Izuku chases every time,, cautious then so, so messy… open-mouthed lingering and shaky breaths, hands gripping places they shouldn’t for stability, noises drowned out by a pulse from fingertips to tongues. Katsuki pulls back again for his own amusement, he knows his limits, but kinda wants to test Izuku’s
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oooh would you be interested in writing smth for the Kid where he's insecure abt his hands and reader reassures him? i can just imagine him wanting to hold ur face in his hands for the first time but hesitating bc of how rough they are and not wanting to make you uncomfortable
You work at a booth making and selling street food (among other things)
He comes by every day just before the sun sets to get his meal of the day, he’s polite. He’s quiet, has his money ready, but you’re distracted by his face.
Weeks later, he hovers until your day is done, and offers to walk you home.
He means it. He escorts you to your door, keeps his eyes down, and keeps his hands to himself.
This proceeds for several more days, before you halt, saying you don’t want the walk to end. You offer a detour, or suggest that the two of you walk slower.
He obliges, he’s here to protect you after all. Days of toiling and nights of taking every punch thrown his way, and here he gets to roll over for you. Your goodness, your beauty, you are the only one with whom he shares his soft underbelly.
That’s how it feels, at least, to you. You don’t notice his hands when the two of you are like this.
The first time you kiss him, it’s at your door.
You approach slowly, as not to scare him, but he holds his breath anyway.
Can you imagine? Maybe you take the front step outside your door, to be at eye level with him. Do you rest your forehead against his? Do you brush noses for a heartbeat or two?
It’s gentle, and he’s certain he’s going to die. He wants to pull you into him, but he doesn’t deserve it.
He keeps his hands at his sides. They’re speaking to him, taunting him.
They want you, warm and soft, against what was left of his palms. They wander up from his sides, hovering just inches away from you.
You’d be disgusted. They’re rough, burnt, and damaged. You deserve so much better.
It’s a split second decision, you pull away from him, and plant a kiss right on his palm. Right where his roots used to be.
He knows God for the first time in years, the second your lips meet his hands.
He wanted to explore you - needed to - he would follow his hands and get lost in you.
Drown in all this light you’d offered him freely.
All of this is expressed with a soft gasp, and a bat of large, brown eyes, and you smile at him.
You kiss him again, he deserves it.
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