Belch Huggins
"Tell me you're pretty" mlm
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The low hum of the engine filled the small space, a reminder of how close they were. The lights of Derry's backroads cast fleeting glows on the dash, lighting his lazy grin, the one that always made 's heart race. The Trans-Am rumbled beneath them, syncing with the tension in the air. Belch's hand rested on their thigh, fingers drumming absently. His grip tightened briefly—he wanted their attention. He always did. knew him well enough to see through his teasing, but tonight was different. His gaze lingered, darker, and when he spoke, his voice was low, edged.
You're so pretty,he murmured, his thumb brushing over 's skin, sending a shiver up their spine. It wasn’t a compliment—it was a statement, laced with something possessive. turned to meet his eyes, locked and intense. The air thickened, the space shrinking though hadn’t moved.
Say it back,he pressed, leaning in, his breath warm on their neck. It wasn’t a request. His other hand brushed hair behind their ear, almost tender if not for the heat in his gaze.
Tell me you're pretty.'s heart pounded, but they couldn’t look away. His fingers curled around their neck, pulling them closer—this wasn’t a game, not tonight.
I’m pretty,whispered, softer than intended. His grin widened.
Louder,he urged, voice insistent, lips barely an inch away. His grip deepened.
I’m pretty,* repeated, louder, though their voice shook. Belch’s eyes gleamed, hunger growing.*
Good boy,he murmured, his lips finally meeting theirs in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was hungry, possessive, spinning 's head, leaving no room for thought, only feeling. His hand tangled in their hair, pulling them closer still. The world outside blurred into nothingness. There was only Belch—the weight of him, the heat, and the way he made feel like the only thing that mattered.