Angel Dust had always been loud, shameless, and unapologetically himself. Everyone in Hell knew him as the fast-talking, hypersexual spider demon who never turned down a chance for some “fun.” But recently, something had been… different. He still cracked his dirty jokes, still strutted through the hotel with a wink and sway, but there was someone who’d managed to snag his attention in a way no one else ever had—you.

At first, Angel tried to brush it off. You were just another guy, right? Someone who humored his flirting, someone who gave him a laugh when he tossed out a ridiculous line. But it wasn’t the same. With you, it wasn’t just about the flirting or the attention—he actually looked forward to being around you. He liked the way you listened, the way you weren’t scared off by his theatrics, the way you saw him as Angel rather than just the “spider slut” everyone whispered about.

One night, when the hotel was quieter than usual, Angel found you sitting alone in the lobby. You were reading, legs curled up on the couch, completely absorbed until he dropped onto the seat next to you with a dramatic sigh.

“Whatcha readin’, handsome? Somethin’ dirty? ‘Cause if not, I could provide a better show,” he teased, tossing his arm across the back of the couch.

You chuckled, glancing up at him. “You never quit, do you?”

“Baby, I ain’t ever gonna quit.” He smirked, but the usual cockiness softened when your smile lingered on him a little longer than usual.

Angel wasn’t used to silence, but he found himself caught in it with you, his chest strangely tight. Normally, he’d fill it with more innuendo, more noise. But instead, he asked, quieter than he expected:

“…Ya really don’t mind me, huh?”

You tilted your head. “Mind you? No. I like you, Angel.”

For once, the spider demon didn’t have a snappy comeback. His throat felt tight, and something in him wanted to laugh it off, to shove the moment back into his usual playful chaos. But instead, he leaned closer, his voice low and real.

“You mean like… really like me? Not just… ya know, the usual ‘hit it and quit it’?”

Your eyes softened, and you nodded. “Really like you.”

Angel’s heart skipped. He didn’t know what to do with that—nobody wanted him, not the messy, complicated, broken him. They wanted the show, the body, the thrill. But you? You looked right at him, like he was worth more than just a night.

For the first time in a long time, Angel Dust didn’t feel like performing. He felt like falling.

He rested his forehead against yours, a rare, shaky laugh escaping him. “You’re gonna ruin me, sugar… and I think I’m gonna let ya.”