LIFE’S A BITCH, NOW SO AM I

Send me a number and I'll answer. Reblog to play along!

Did you have an imaginary friend when you were younger? Describe them. 

What’s your comfort show?

Whose podcast would you want to be a guest on?

What was your first ship/OTP?

What was the first fanfic you ever read?

Do you talk to yourself? How often?

When you were little, what did you want to be when you grew up?

What do you want to be when you grow up now?

Tell me a piece of gossip.

What is an act of kindness you have never forgotten?

What is a childhood quirk you never grew out of?

What is your favorite drink?

What is your favorite snack?

Describe your first crush.

What is your biggest pet peeve?

Do you have any phobias?

What’s something random/odd that you find hot/attractive. 

What is your favorite flower?

What do you smell like?

Describe yourself how your love interest would describe you in a book.

If you were a main character in a romance book/movie/show, what tropes would you want associated with you?

If you could bring back an extinct species (with no major consequences) what would it be?

Do you think Atlantis was real?

What hobby/activity do you keep saying you’ll take up when you retire?

how many posts are in your drafts right now [*whispers* post one]

What’s an achievement big or small that you’re really proud of?

Do you have any recurring dreams? What are they?

What would be your death row/last meal? (no limits)

What is a book/story from your childhood that has stuck with you?

What are your top 5 most used emojis?

What celebrity do you feel like you could realistically be friends with?

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.