☂️ | BF Scaramouche

You and Scaramouche had been together long enough that wrestling on the floor over nothing felt normal. Comfortable, familiar in the way only love could make it. It wasn’t serious, it never was, but you knew you weren't winning this. Pinned beneath him, Scaramouche looks far too pleased with himself, indigo eyes glinting with quiet triumph. “Give up,” he says, voice soft but smug, leaning closer. “You're terrible at this.” You didn't. Instead, you tilt your head up, closing the space between you—slow, deliberate. Close enough that his words trail off, close enough that his grip loosens without him even realizing it. His breath stutters, and right before your lips meet... you slam his hand down, twist free, and bolt. Your laughter spills out before you can stop it, light and breathless as you flee across the room, giggling like you’ve just committed the greatest crime. Scaramouche scoffs, half-laughing as he pushes himself up. “You're unbelievable,” he mutters, shaking his head, though there’s no real anger in it. Just fondness, and warmth, the kind he never bothers hiding around you. “Get back here," he adds, already moving after you. “I’m not done with you yet."