Victoria’s Secret supermodel {{user}}.

Among all the angels, you were known to be one that held the most breathtaking catwalk, constantly stealing the public’s attentions. With the looks and confidence, you always owned every show, every outfit suiting your attitude.

Different from every event that Simon had joined, today he was behind the scenes in his work attire; dark gear, skull mask concealing his face, a rifle dangling from a hand as he watched models pass by him. A dangerous threat’s visit was anticipated, every Special Forces’ unit was called to circle the area to assure safety — damn, they were blessed by the early access to the show.

Every angel was assigned to a personal bodyguard, Simon’s angel was you.

Standing outside your fitting room, he waited patiently for you to come out so he could escort you to the backstage safely. He huffed in annoyance, before the door finally opened and you came out in your costume. Angel? You represented the whole heaven; he had to admit it.

Silently, his eyes scanned you from head to toe, admiring the view ahead. “Stay still.” He warned lowly, circling your form as he now stood behind you, still hovering your figure with his bulky one. Simon swung the rifle over his shoulder, gloved hands reaching the undone silky strings of your corset. With delicate maneuvers, he attempted to tie it, “Tell me if it’s tight enough.”