Peach

Yixing was always obsessed with ass. It took him awhile before he started playing with yours, nearly 2 months after you had started dating, but he had. Now a year into your relationship, ass-grabbing was a constant. And not just with you. You knew the members of his band were frequently harassed, anyone he grew close to as well. Once, you had to pull him away from an unclothed statue before he grabbed its seemingly firm behind.

But this was too much. You stared at your reflection in the mirror, the black body con dress hugging each curve you had, amplifying your already thick thighs. The navy cardigan you had thrown over your shoulders looked tacky, but at least you had covered the open back of the dress. You caught sight of the dress pulled tight over your thighs, focusing in on the lack of a space between them. You wouldn't be as thin as the girls he posed with in magazines. The thought made you envious and insecure all at once, but as you turned in the mirror, you caught sight of your backside. The dress pulled deliciously around the curves, making you wonder if that's really what you looked like or if the light was playing tricks on you. You twirled once more, slowly so as to catch a full view of yourself. The defined line of your behind was enticing even to yourself under the stretched black fabric, and you began to understand why he was always touching butts. Your confidence returned with each prolonged gaze, the high hem of the skirt seeming more and more in place. You let the cardigan slip down your shoulders, exposing the skin slowly to the air. When you slipped out of the warm cover completely, you exuded a tangible confidence. Of course you weren't as thin as the other girls, but that's part of the reason he liked you. Your appearance grew in the mirror, at least an inch, your chin thrust forward with your pride.

"Oh, baby, you're wearing it," your eyes met his in the mirror as he sauntered forward, a small smile playing across his face. He must have just gotten back from his meeting, as he was still wearing business attire. You turned to face him with all your confidence still intact, your arms outstretched as you waited firmly in your spot for him to come to you. He loosened his tie as he walked patiently, his long fingers probing the knot gently before letting it come undone and slipping to the floor. His arms enveloped you, automatically positioning themselves beneath your arms and around your lower waist.

"Welcome back," your lips managed against his shoulder, "how did it go?" You allowed your eyes to wander to the mirror which reflected your embrace. You stared at his hands, waiting for them to dip further. You craved the appreciation he had for your newly discovered assets. When he didn't allow his hands to wander, you turned your gaze back to his expectantly.

His smile confirmed the answer you had expected. "We're celebrating tonight," he stated triumphantly, "my second solo album is a go."

Anxious joy bubbled up from the pit of your stomach in a nervous giggle. Is that why he bought this dress for you? The hemline hardly covered the bottom of your underwear. Your initial sentiments about the dress began to settle back in, and you felt your confidence waver.

"What?" he frowned, noticing your change in expression. His fingers cupped your chin gently as he brought your eyes level with his. You could wear it with him, but with strangers...

"Yixing, I like this dress. I do. I can't wear it out though." You pleaded with him via eye contact, widening your eyes so he could see your emotions clearly in them.

He turned his head to the side to stare in the mirror at your reflection. His eyes traveled slowly up your body, stopping at your full hips. You could see no spark in his eyes, even when he noticed his arm around your waist had pulled the dress up slightly, revealing the curve where your cheek met your thigh. A thin hand smoothed the dress back into place as his eyes met yours once more.