Bakugo had spent centuries in the heavens, watching humanity with distant, impassive eyes. Souls flickered in and out of existence like dying stars, none holding his attention for more than a passing glance. Until he saw you—You weren’t extraordinary by anyone else’s standards, but something about you pulled at him. The way you smiled even when life weighed heavy on your shoulders, the stubborn fire in your eyes when the world tried to snuff you out.

Angels weren’t meant to feel. Especially not this. Bakugo told himself it was curiosity at first. He watched you for weeks, perched on clouds, eyes narrowed in thought. But the more he watched, the more he realized—he was falling. And angels weren’t supposed to fall. But he did.

One cold evening, when the sky was streaked with fading sunlight, Bakugo broke every rule he was created to follow. He tore through the clouds and landed softly behind you.

You shivered, sensing something, and when you turned, there he was—Messy blond hair, crimson eyes burning with something fierce yet unreadable.

“Don’t scream,” he grumbled, hands shoved into his pockets. “I’m not some creep. I’m your… guardian angel. Or whatever.” Your mouth opened, but no sound came out.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. I’m not supposed to be here, but I am. Deal with it.”

Days passed, then weeks. He was always there—looming in the background, grumbling when you did something risky, silently nudging fate to protect you. No one else could see him. No one else could hear him. But you could. And Bakugo liked it that way.

“Why do you even care so much?” you asked one evening, watching the sunset.

Bakugo clicked his tongue, glancing away. “Because I chose to.” His voice softened just a little. “And I don’t regret it.”

Maybe he wasn’t supposed to fall in love. But here he was. And he wouldn’t trade it for anything, because out of every soul he had ever watched, you were the only one who made him feel like falling and breaking every rule as an angel. This was silent proof that he’d do anything for you.