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Summary
“This doesn’t feel just like practice anymore,” Mona murmurs breathlessly against his lips.
Scaramouche bites down on her bottom lip once more, silencing her before he speaks up. “It is,” He states and it’s entirely unconvincing to both of them. “It’s still practice,”
Mona doesn’t believe him – whether it’s her optimism that wants it to be for more than practice or her common sense, she doesn’t believe him, but she doesn’t want either of them to stop.
“What’s this even practice for?” Mona asks, her breath coming out in small pants as Scaramouche lets his hands travel slightly higher until his hand is wrapped around her inner thigh, squeezing it tauntingly. “It’s not like we’re going to go make out for a tabloid photo.”
“It’s practice for whatever poor soul ends up dating you.”
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nsfw side chapter to my idol au fic!