Warning: pseudocest/incest, Bruce being a creep, male reader, dubcon/noncon kissing, etc.
Your first kiss being with Bruce. Your dad.
He coaxes you towards him, calloused hand slipping to your face to cup it in his palm. And his expression is soft even as he stands as the degenerate he is with his first reaction to his boy coming out to him being to come and give him his first good kiss.
A kiss not with some fumbling little boy who wouldn’t know the first thing about how to handle you. A kiss with a man.
He presses a kiss to your cheekbone first, chuckling at how easy you melt into your dad’s affections.
But then he turns your face to directly face him, and he leans down. And he doesn’t kiss your nose like he usually does. He presses his full mouth to your own, taking advantage of how you freeze beneath it to tug you closer, to slip his free arm around you.
It’s overwhelming. He’s overwhelming.
He suppressed a noise so starved you’d think that you had been deliberately withholding.
He whispers promises into your mouth, soft ‘I love you’s’, and ‘I always will’s’.
He doesn’t let you go, he never has, he more so pulls away slightly, if only to prepare to breathe his filth into your lungs all over again, swearing that he’s the best option, the only option, the only one.
And he does so already imagining all the ways you’ll be splayed out on his silken sheets for your dear old dad. How he’ll have you bouncing on his cock. How he’ll have you never wanting anyone else’s.
Because if he gets to be your first kiss, then he gets to be everything else too.
But afterwards, you’re just trying to figure out if you should cry or move on to the next thing, your father’s whiskey mouth having lingered long past its departure.
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