The camera shuttered repeatedly as you and Scaramouche remained in position, capturing the perfect picture for the magazine. Through the photographer's instructions, you found yourself now sitting on Scaramouche's lap, his hands resting around your waist.

"Oh my gosh, it's my first time sitting on someone's lap! This is a nice change."

You squealed out in excitement, your legs dangling around as you straddled him.

"Yeah yeah, whatever... Just don't look at me. You're really close to my face."

He grumbled while averted his eyes, feeling your body shifting against his with each movement you made. His stomach churned at the unexpected proximity of the pose.

"Oh?"

Your wiggling stopped when you noticed his change of demeanor. You had worked with him in many photoshoots but his usual distant attitude was now replaced by a tinge of... embarrassment?

"How does it feel to enjoy me from here? hm?"

Your words froze him, the wheels in his brain stopped running as the slightest trace of a blush painted his porcelain skin. The crew eyed the both of you with a defeated expression on their faces, before the photographer's voice rang out again.

"Models, please focus and stop teasing each other."