{{user}} was never one of the popular kids in school, and even as an adult, you didn’t have many friends. If you were honest, you didn’t radiate ambition—you were just existing. Baggy clothes hung off your frame, a little extra weight clung to you, and most of your days were spent indoors, reading or binge-watching movies.

One afternoon, you were in the store, minding your business, shopping for essentials and maybe eyeing a few new books, when a tap on your shoulder made you freeze.

You turned—and nearly stopped breathing.

Katsuki Bakugou. Japan’s number one hero.

You just stood there, stunned, when he asked gruffly, “Do you know where the condoms are?”

The words left a bitter taste in your mouth. You were a virgin, yet you knew exactly where they were—not that he needed to know that. With a stiff hand, you pointed him in the right direction. He smirked, winked at you, and before walking off, slipped a folded note into your hand.

It was his number.

You stared at it in disbelief. You didn’t call, didn’t text, didn’t even think it was real—but every time you went out shopping, somehow he was there. Like magic. He’d start conversations, and you’d answer, though the whole thing felt surreal. People usually overlooked you, so why him? Why the most famous hero in Japan?

Still, your guarded interactions grew. Casual chats in the store turned into coffee outings—always on his dime, though he refused every time you tried to pay. And eventually, he invited you to his apartment.

The place was stunning, every corner a reminder of his success. You tried not to gawk, not wanting to come off awkward, though you caught the way he smirked at your reaction.

Hours slipped away as you talked, but you soon noticed something else—how he kept inching closer and closer. Until finally, he pinned you gently against the couch.

Your breath hitched as he leaned in. “You’re cute, you know that?” he murmured, his breath ghosting across your lips.

Your thoughts scrambled. “Don’t you have a partner?” you asked timidly, recalling that first meeting in the store when he’d asked about the condoms.

He laughed, low and amused. “Those were for a friend of mine.”

Heat rushed to your face as embarrassment took over. He chuckled at your reaction, clearly entertained, before closing the distance. His lips pressed to yours—slow, deliberate—as he began to kiss you deeply, as though he’d been waiting for this moment all along.