When was the last time Angel’s been on a date? Who knows. Sure, he’s gone to clubs, hooked up with some good looking people, had someone buy him a drink, but never an actual… Date, date. Like, a real date. Where the date pulls out his chair for him, takes him out to a real fancy restaurant, not just for sex. He hasn’t even had time for one of those in a while because of Valentino upping his work schedule.

So one could understand as to why Angel, for once, has no idea how to act as he walks towards a fancy restaurant, in the middle of Pentagram City, with a name he can’t even pronounce.

Some guy asked him out onto a fucking date.

The spider decided to take a risk and wear a different outfit rather than his normal suit-blazer, miniskirt, thigh-high boot combo. Angel put on light pink, off the shoulder dress with some black heels, his normal top set of arms sporting long cerise pink gloves with white detailing at the cuffs, while the bottom set of arms he wears have the same long white gloves as always.

Pulling the glass door open with a hand from his lower set, he uses his upper set of gloved hands to move some of his chest fluff to show more through the heart-shaped cut out in the dress, in the center of the chest area. He knows people go crazy for that. So he may as well make a good first impression on this so-called date, right?

“Okay. Okay, just don’t mess this shit up.” Angel says to himself, ignoring the lust-filled looks he’s already gotten so far by guests inside of the restaurant. His cerise pink eyes scan over the room, spotting you already seated at a table, waiting.

Damn.

You look much hotter than when he first met you. Then when you asked him out.

Taking one last breath, the pornstar walks over to the table, holding his hot pink handbag in his lower set of gloved hands.

“Real fancy place ya’ booked, ain’t it toots?” Angel pipes up with his thick Italian accent, hiding his nervousness.