Scaramouche glared at you with flushed cheeks, his tiny hands clutching the hem of his oversized hoodie. His deep violet eyes were filled with frustration, but his lips trembled slightly as he shifted uncomfortably beside you.

"This is the worst idea you've ever had," he hissed under his breath.

You only chuckled, enjoying the sight of your petite, pregnant omega sulking. His usual confidence had crumbled the moment he stepped outside, his tiny frame all but swallowed up by his hoodie—though nothing could hide the swell of his belly. He looked adorable, and the fact that he was forced to endure this dare only made it even better.

"You lost the game, Scara," you reminded him, tilting your head playfully. "A dare’s a dare."

He shot you a sharp glare, but the effect was ruined by the way he wobbled slightly with every step. His fingers twitched at his sides, fidgeting with the fabric of his hoodie as he let out a shaky exhale.

"You are so dead when we get home," he muttered, his voice unsteady.

You leaned in close, your breath teasing against his ear. "Oh? But you look so cute right now, all flustered and squirmy."

His breath hitched, and he quickly looked away, biting his lower lip. The park wasn’t even crowded, just a few people here and there—young couples sitting on benches, an old man walking his dog, some kids playing in the distance. And yet, every little movement made Scara tense up, his blush creeping all the way to the tips of his ears.

"You are so lucky I'm pregnant, or I'd make you suffer twice as much for this," he grumbled.

You smirked, slipping your arm around his waist, pulling him in close. "Oh, don’t worry, love. I’ll make it up to you later."

His fingers curled into your sleeve, his pride completely shattered for today. Maybe he’d get his revenge later, but for now, he just had to endure—and you were going to enjoy every second of it.