from grace · bang chan

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➳ genre: demon au, fluff, angst

➳ pairings: reader x chan

➳ word count: 7.1k

➳ description: He was a fallen, a follower of Lucifer, a creature of deception. All that aside, what if the darkness was not as one-dimensional as you perceived it to be?

⇒ a/n: #happychanday — may you transform stray kids' vision into reality ☆

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"What are you doing here?" You spat before you could stop yourself, and you almost felt bad for perceiving obvious traces of disgust laced in your voice — almost, if he weren't a fallen.

"I see you're getting the hang of it, love," he replied, amusement palpable in his silk-like voice. A week ago, his sudden appearances had startled you, but now, you were able to sense his ominous presence instantly.

You leveled your emotions and tried to keep the irritation at bay, formulating your response. "I thought I made myself clear. You need to stay out of my dreams, which you're doing a pretty good job at. Now just get out of my life, and everything will be perfect once again."

"What's the fun in that?" He inquired, dropping a low chuckle, clearly delighted by your frustration. Chan found your angry presence simply pleasant as he took the spot beside you on the balcony of your apartment complex. "Do tell me. What are you doing at home on a night like this?"

His aura was like a black hole, sucking any source of remaining energy around you like a vacuum, and it left you feeling nothing but emptiness, like a wet blanket draped over your body. His hair, silver like the luminescence of the first snowfall, provided a frighteningly beautiful contrast against his bright, porcelain skin. His clothes, dark as midnight like the orbs that bore into yours, were almost antique like that of a porcelain doll's — not outdated — but antique in a way which encapsulated many stories.

You pondered for a while, debating whether or not his inquiry would be worth answering; it was pointless to meddle with a creature like him, but nonetheless, something in you prompted you to give him an answer.

"Thinking," was what you told him, short and brusque.

He hummed in acknowledgment, his eyes following your each and every move. Chan's lips curled into a charming smile — he must have read your thoughts. "Nice to know that you're not heartless," he commented.

You scoffed at his response. He was a creature of Hell, and damn right you knew that demons were practically the most deceitful and cruel creatures to ever graze the surface of the Earth. It only took one sin to fall from Heaven, so whatever Chan did, it must have been pretty terrible.

"Stop reading my thoughts. It's none of your business." Your reply was abrasive, one that usually ended conversations with people. But of course, Chan was no civil human being.

"You're homesick," the man promptly pointed out as he waited for your reaction. When you gave a short sigh in response, a smile lifted from his perfectly sculpted lips, a slight smirk lacing his delicate features. "Well, what do you miss about home, love?"

You were confused to as why he decided to start a conversation with you out of all people. What made you so special in comparison to other humans? Why did he pick you when he had a whole seven billion to choose from? It was flattering yet unnerving at the same time.

"Everything," you responded. You could have easily walked away and left him hanging, or he could have read your thoughts either way. However, something told you to give him a concrete response. Chan was the first person — being — to ask how you were; his sincerity, or mock sincerity, stirred something in you. "I just wish I would have never taken this job."

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