#bryan kneef x reader

[storiesofsvu]

Poolside

Bryan Kneef x reader warnings: language, smut, daddy kink, dirty talk derogatory dirty talk, oral (m receiving), face fucking, slapping, you could call it orgasm denial? Reader kinda being a brat Besties this one got AWAY from me...i'm not sorry. You're welcome...

Bryan was sprawled across the lounger, sunglasses covering his closed eyes while he soaked up the sun at his private pool, finally able to enjoy a moments relaxation. He nearly heard the water droplets on the cement before a few began to hit his legs and he grimaced, he didn’t want to get into the water, and he’d made it very clear he didn’t want to be splashed either. Suddenly, something landed in his lap and he grunted, eyes shooting open while he sat up.

“What the hell?”

He looked up to see you smiling down at him, water droplets dripping down your body as your bikini clung to your skin leaving very little to the imagination as you giggled, gesturing to his lap.

“Can you do my sunscreen?” You asked with a near pout of your lips and he was halfway through an eye roll when your hands moved behind your neck, swiftly undoing your bikini top to let it drop to the ground. You simply shrugged at his widening eyes, “can’t risk tan lines.”

“Naturally.” He muttered, shaking his head at your antics as his eyes roamed your body and you smirked down at him.

“You gonna help or not?”

“Get down here.” His hand circled your wrist, tugging you into his lap so you were facing the pool as he picked up the sunscreen.

He popped the cap and it sounded identical to a bottle of lube and you felt the Pavlovian response of your pussy fluttering around nothing, your body relaxing and tingling, ready for him to make you see stars. You held back a moan when his hands slid up your back, rubbing the cream into your heated skin, and despite his earlier internal complaints he didn’t slack off, every inch of your back safely covered and very well rubbed in.

Bryan’s hands closed around your waist, lifting you slightly off his lap, “turn around.” He urged and you did so, plopping down into his lap with a small giggle as his eyes trained on your bouncing tits. “Arm.”

You held one out, watching as he squeezed at the tube again, smearing the cream between his hands before coating your arm in it, roaming up your shoulder and across your collarbone, coating your neck and decolletage. You let out a breathy sigh as his hands massaged it into your skin, your eyes fluttering shut, purposefully riling him up, grinding into his lap to feel his cock beginning to harden.

It was his turn to mess with you a second later, his large hands rolling over your tits, groping as he rubbed what was left of the sunscreen into them. Your head dropped back with a breathy sigh and his dick twitched in his shorts, eyes narrowing in on your hardening nipples. He couldn’t resist it, thumbs rubbing over them and he held back a groan at the sound that came out of your lips when he did so. He flicked at them with his fingers and you shuddered, a moan leaving your throat when he pinched them, pressing harder and harder until your body lurched towards him.

“Bry…”

“Yeah?” He chuckled darkly, “you like that you little slut?”

“Mmmhmm.” You nodded, your eyes wide as you opened them to pout in his direction, “love it when daddy plays with my tits.”

“You sure do.” Grinning, he pinched your nipples again, pulling them away from your body before letting them go and watching your tits bounce as you let out a needy whine.

He leant forward, tongue flicking over one nipple and then the other before he sucked the entire thing into his mouth, his beard scratching across your sensitive skin. Your hand threaded into his locks, fingertips scratching at his scalp while he nipped and lapped at your skin. His hand soon replaced it so he could repeat the actions on the other side and you were already a whining mess, grinding down onto his lap harder with each time his tongue flicked at your nipple.

“Fuck Bry..”

He let you pop out of his mouth, his hand sliding up your chest before wrapping around your neck, tilting your face back to him.

“Dirty girl.” He muttered, “was that your plan the entire time? Come over here playing all coy so daddy would play with these perky tits?”

“No.” You shook your head, giggling as a grin took over your lips.

“Liar.”

“No!” You pouted, shifting off the chair and onto a towel on your knees, “wanted to play with your cock.”

Bryan groaned, he was already hard enough there was a tent in his shorts, one that you were hungrily eyeing up as your hands ran up his legs. You glanced up at him just long enough to catch his eyes darkening as his tongue darted out to wet his lips and that was all you needed. Your hands slunk into his waistband, tugging the shorts down his legs and tossing them to the ground. You couldn’t help but bite your lip, no matter how many times you saw his cock it would always drive you wild, thick and hard, slapping up into his stomach. You let out a whine, your cunt fluttering around nothing as your mouth watered, a gasp leaving your lips when Bryan’s hand slapped your cheek.

“Well get to it, slut.”

“Yes daddy.”

Sitting up on your knees you wrapped your hand around the base of his cock, stroking him a few times, your thumb brushing over the bead of precum, smearing it into your hand. Bryan watched as you spit into your hand, mixing it with his cum before stroking him again, slowly as your hand squeezed ever so lightly. He let out a soft groan, his head falling back against the recliner as his breathing began to pick up.

Opening your mouth your tongue stuck out, licking a broad stripe from the base to tip, flicking your tongue at the top, giggling when he twitched in your hand. Your tongue traced a circle around the head before your lips wrapped around his cock, sucking him into your mouth, just the tip and Bryan had to use every ounce of self control not to shove your head down until you could barely breathe. He blew a low breath out of his nose, his eyes scrunching shut as his hands formed fists as his sides. You had said you wanted to play with him, after all.

You popped off his dick, giving it little kitten licks that simply tormented him, the tip of your tongue tracing the veins on his thick shaft. Your hand began to move again, smearing your saliva up and down his cock before your mouth wrapped around his balls.

“Oh fuck…” He groaned, a few more drops of pre-cum leaking out of him that you eagerly collected, smearing over his cock.

Your tongue lapped as his balls, sucking on one, groaning around it, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through his entire body and when you sucked the second one into your mouth too his toes began to curl. You picked up the pace of your hand, but only so much, drool pooling in your mouth as you continued to suck his balls.

“Shit, yes..” he grunted, “you know just how daddy likes it.”

You moaned again, your tongue dancing across his balls before you let them drop from your mouth, your lips parted as you panted, sitting up on your knees again. Lips spit slicked you took his cock in between them again, this time sinking down a little bit further before pulling back up to the tip, then sinking down a little further than that and repeating the process.

“Just.. love sucking cock don’t you?” Bryan didn’t resist anymore, his hand tangling into your hair, bunching in between his fingers, “little fucking cock slut.”

All you could do was moan around him, pulling another grunt from him as the sensation sent shivers through his body. You finally sunk down all the way, your nose brushing the wiry hair on his skin for a moment before pulling off with a gasp, spit connecting your lips to the tip of his cock.

“Oh you can do better than that.” He chided, his hand immediately shoving your head back down while thrusting his hips off the lounger and you nearly yelped, your hands coming to brace on his thighs as he buried his cock in the back of your throat. “Fucking whore.” He groaned as you relaxed your throat around him and he was able to push even deeper, “you know better than to tease daddy. You can take it like the bitch in heat you are, you know you’ve gotta earn your fucking orgasms.”

You whined around him, drool pooling in the corners of your mouth, starting to drip down onto his thighs and his free hand wrapped around your throat. He squeezed, moving his hips back and fourth and let out a low groan, his cock twitching in your mouth and you could feel more cum drip down your throat.

“That’s it..” his head fell back when your tongue began to move again, circling around him the best you could from that angle, “love feeling that fucking bulge in your throat. Such a good little whore, taking such a big cock.”

His hand left your throat, slapping your cheek and you whimpered around him. The hand in your hair yanked you up and you cried out, sucking in as much air as you could, your chest heaving as he laughed darkly.

“Are you fucking crying?” He taunted, slapping your cheek again, watching a mascara smeared tear roll over your cheek “over some fucking cock?”

“Please daddy!” You whined, lips forming a pout and he laughed again, hand grabbing at your jaw to open your lips before he shoved you back down to his dick. You couldn’t help but moan as he pushed you all the way down to the base, holding you for only a moment before just the tip was in your mouth and he stood up from the lounger.

“Pathetic little fucking slut.” He growled, “I thought I might let you come, get you off but now you’re gonna make daddy come first, understood?” His hand yanked at your hair when you didn’t reply and you whimpered, another tear streaking down your cheek.

“Yes daddy.”

“There’s my good girl.” The next slap he delivered was softer, “now open your whore mouth and stick that tongue out so daddy can fuck your face.”

You did as asked, tilting your head back and sticking your tongue out as far as you could. A second later Bryan was shoving his cock between your lips, thrusting his hips as hard as he could, the head of his dick hitting the back of your throat. You did your best to suck around him, tongue eagerly lapping up any hints of pre-cum that you could, hollowing your cheeks around him any second his hips began to falter. One of your hands braced on his thigh, the other coming up to play with his balls and he let out a low grunt.

“Fuck…don’t fucking stop.”

You could feel him twitching in your mouth, his balls tensing as you rolled them in your palm, squeezing gently, some squeezes longer than the others.

“You’re gonna make daddy come.” He groaned and you moaned around his cock, “bet you like that, not surprised you’re a cum slut too.” His hips thrusted deeper into your throat and you felt a fresh set of tears pricking in the corners of your eyes. “You wanna taste?”

You nodded the best you could, looking up at him with pleading eyes and he laughed darkly and slapped you again.

“Too fucking bad.” He grunted, pulling himself from your mouth as his eyes fluttered shut and he began to stoke his dick, hard and fast as his peak approached, “ruined that chance. Show me those fuckin tits.”

You sat up on your knees, hands cupping your chest to press them up for him as your back arched and a few pumps later he was squeezing around his cock, hot cum spurting out, painting your skin. Panting, he rubbed a few more times, squeezing at the base of his dick before wiping any remnants off with two fingers, smearing them across your nipples. You raised a hand to scoop some up and he swatted your hand away.

“Don’t even think about it.” His hand closed around your wrist, tugging you to standing and gesturing to the lounger beside his, “you’re going to lie there until that dries, want you covered in my cum so you don’t forget what a pathetic little whore you are.” He pressed a rough kiss to your lips, groaning over the taste of him on your mouth, “and once it is dry, you’re gonna start to play with your needy little cunt, but like hell you’re allowed to come, understood?”

“Yes daddy.”

“Because where is the only place you’re allowed to come?”

“Around daddy’s cock.”

“Good girl.” He gently patted your cheek, shoving you toward the lounger and you let out a huff, pouting at him over your shoulder before you dropped down.

“Careful,” he warned with a wicked grin, putting his sunglasses back on as he picked up his magazine and settled back into his chair, “any attitude like that and you won’t be coming for a week.”

__________

@detective-giggles @plaidbooks @thatesqcrush @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @bisexual-dreamer02 @amelia-song-pond @madamsnape921 @mrsrafaelbarba @mysticfalls01 @ssaic-jareau @caracalwithchips @barbasbodaciousbeard @alwaysachorusgirl @beardedbarba @michael-rooker @rafivadafreddy @lustvolle-liebe @anlin2058 @fandom-princess-forevermore @tinyboxxtink @alexusonfire @xovalliegirlxo @somethingimaginative17 @momlifebehard @misscharlielulu @alcabots @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @louderfortheback @valentinesfrog @originalbrunettecharacter @wittygutsy @gamma-rae-bursts @alexxavicry

[adarafaelbarba]

If you’re still doing the five sentence ficlets: “I don’t want to be alone.” with Bryan Kneef please 🥰

"And why's that, ms. y/l/n?" "Because I've been alone through shit like this before and it was not fun!" She said, rolling her eyes at Bryan's frankly idiotic question.

"Alright, I'll stay." that made her feel better and she nodded in thanks.

They both looked at the screen as they waited for results.

Not pregnant

"Thank fucking GOD!" She exclaimed and got out of her seat. "Thanks for your help Mr. Kneef, now have a good day!"

[madamsnape921]

Purple

Pairing: Bryan Kneef x female reader 

WC: 1384

Raúl Taglist: @beccabarba @alwaysachorusgirl @law-nerd105  @prurientpuddlejumper  @welcometothemxdhouse @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @lv7867 @word-scribbless 

@plaidbooks @storiesofsvu @navalcriminalimagines

Bryan sat alone in his office on a Friday. Most people had just started to leave for the weekend. Normally Bryan would stay late to finish up the work he was doing, but since he’d met you, his paralegals suddenly started working more evenings especially on Friday. 

YN: Hey Bry! Do you have plans this evening?

Bryan: Yes. I’ll be playing with your pretty pussy.

YN: That sounds fun! Could you help me with another art project first?

Bryan: ...

YN: *pouty face selfie*

Bryan: You know I can’t say no to you. What will I be doing? Modeling again? Naked this time?

YN: It’s a surprise but I think you’ll like it

Bryan: I’m on my way over now. Do I need to bring anything?

YN: Nope! Just your sexy self, mister. *wink kiss emoji*

Bryan: Keep talking like that and your art won’t be made today, pretty girl.

YN: Love you!! *heart emoji*

Bryan: as you should

Bryan: *heart emoji*

Bryan put his phone in his pocket after ordering a ride to your apartment. He’d started walking out of the office after your first text. 

Meanwhile, you’ve planned everything for a perfect art making evening with Bryan. He was always so supportive of your work even though your work lives were so very different. You were nervous about his reaction to this new project even though you knew he’d absolutely love it. 

---------------------------

Bryan walked into your apartment to the sight of you bent over adjusting a cloth canvas on the floor.  You were dressed in an old, stained shirt that did little to hide the prominent curve of your ass. The scent of fresh paint filled the room, making his stomach flutter with anticipation.

"Hey, baby," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice as he took in your focused expression. You hadn't noticed him enter, engrossed in your work.

"Bryan!" You spun around to see him leaning against the doorframe, one eyebrow arched questioningly. "I didn't hear you come in."

"Of course not, why would I announce myself?" He chuckled, pushing away from the frame and striding across the room to kneel beside you. "What have you got planned for me tonight, Miss Artist?"

You blushed, despite the excitement that bubbled in your chest. "You'll see," you said coyly, patting the spot beside you. He sat down, his weight making the canvas shift slightly.

"So, I want to try something different tonight," you began, your hands hovering over the canvas as if unsure. "Here's the plan," you say, your voice trembling with excitement. "We each choose a paint color and put it on ourselves and the canvas. Then we'll..." You pause, feeling nervous.

"What happens next?" Bryan asks, his curiosity piqued.

"We'll have sex on the canvas," you reply with a shy smile.

Bryan's eyes widened in surprise, but then he broke into a grin. "Well, I can get behind that," he said, looking at the colors of paint you had chosen. "What color do you want?"

You hesitated for a moment, glancing at Bryan's muscular arms as he removed his clothes, then decided to choose a color that would look good on his skin. "Let's go with red," you said, handing him a brush with the chosen color. "I'll go with blue."

Bryan nodded and dipped the brush into the tub of red paint. With a chuckle, he started painting his arms and torso, working the paint into his skin with deliberate strokes. You watched, entranced, your heart throbbing in your chest.

Once he was covered in a layer of red, Bryan beckoned you to him. With a shaking hand, you picked up your own brush and painted your arms and chest with the blue paint, watching his approving grin as you did so. Once you were both covered in a swirl of colors, you joined hands and stepped onto the canvas, feeling the cool texture under your feet.

"Okay," Bryan said, his eyes locked onto yours, "let's do this."

You nod, feeling the electricity in the air as you both leaned in for a passionate kiss. As your lips met, your bodies started to move in rhythm, the paint on your skin creating a sensual, textured canvas beneath your hands.

As your passion grew, so did the intensity with which you moved and painted, the red and blue colors merging and blending into a painting that was a masterpiece of passion and desire. The canvas beneath you bore witness to your love, each touch, each movement, each gasp and moan captured forever.

Finally, spent and breathless, you collapsed onto the canvas, panted breaths echoing in the quiet apartment. Bryan's arms wrapped around you, a satisfied smile on his face as he looked at the beautiful, colorful painting that bore testament to your love.

"You're a genius, you know that?" Bryan said, kissing the top of your head. "This is the most amazing thing you've ever done."

You smiled, replaying the passionate moments in your mind. "I'm glad you liked it," you said, snuggling closer to him. "But even more than that, I'm glad I get to share these special moments with you."

Bryan kissed your neck, his hand tracing patterns in the blue paint on your skin. "Always," he said, his voice low and full of emotion. "Always with you."

The two of you stayed like that for a while, basking in the afterglow of your passionate creation, the vibrant hues of your bodies and the canvas a testament to your shared love. The scent of fresh paint lingered in the air, mingled with the sweet fragrance of your skin after a long, tiring yet fulfilling day. The world outside the apartment seemed to fade away, and it was just the two of you, lost in each other's embrace, surrounded by a masterpiece of passion and desire.

“Let’s get cleaned up,” you suggested. 

Together you walked to the bathroom and got into the shower. The warm water cascaded over your bodies, washing away the layers of paint and sweat. Bryan's strong hands massaged your back while you returned the favor, his broad shoulders feeling like a safe haven. The water mingled with the paint as it swirled down the drain, leaving only memories of passion and love in its wake.

As the paint washed down the drain, Bryan ran his hands over your body. "Turn around and put your hands against the wall," he commanded.

He ran his hand down your back before giving each of your ass cheeks a quick smack. "Good girl. Now spread those legs for me and lean against the wall. I'm going to fuck this pretty little pussy," Bryan purred in your ear.

You followed his instructions, spreading your legs and bending over. Bryan rubbed his dick against your wet opening before thrusting inside.

"Oh, Bryan!" you moaned.

"Shut up and take this cock like a good girl," he growled.

Bryan continued to pound into you with one hand on your hip and the other roughly grabbing your breast. You moaned loudly, almost reaching your climax.

"Come on my cock, YN. Now."

You obeyed, coming around his cock as he roared and squeezed your tit again. After he pulled out, he turned you around and kissed you.

There was no need for words as you finished cleaning off any remaining paint.

As you stepped out of the shower, Bryan handed you a towel, wrapping one around himself. You dried each other off, feeling the familiar warmth that only comes from being with someone who knows you inside and out. He kissed your forehead, his eyes soft and filled with love.

"That was amazing," he said, meaning more than just the painting. "I feel so...complete."

You smiled at him, feeling the same way. "I'm glad I could share this with you," you said, snuggling close to him. "It's not just a painting. It's us."

Bryan nodded, his arms tightening around you. "Always us."

That night, as you snuggled close to Bryan in bed, you knew that this was just one of the many memorable moments you would share with him. You fell asleep, dreaming of the countless colors and textures your life would take together, knowing that no matter where your journey would lead, it would always be one masterpiece of passion and love.

[thatesqcrush]

In Another Time: Finals Fun

AN: To the tune of Everybody (Backstreet’s Back) OMG I’m back again! I missed Prof. Kneef. Enjoy! 

Bryan Kneef x f! reader. CW: NSFW language, finger fucking. WC: 2377.  

The end of semester was a few days away. 

You and your friends decided to have a last hurrah at the local pub. And apparently the entire school also had the same idea. The pub was running a special, $5 pitchers, $2.50 “beer of the day,” and half off apps. To say it was packed was an understatement. Fortunately you and your friends arrived early enough to snag the last booth. You held the booth while your friends, Elody, Diego and Teresa ordered food and pitchers.

You scrolled through your phone, waiting for your friends. You debated texting Bryan but you knew with finals, he had been busier than ever. Your friends made their way through the crowd, walking carefully with overflowing pitchers in hand along with some appetizers. You reached up to help take things off their full hands. 

Music was pumping, the baseball game was on. It felt nice to relax and unwind after all the hard work you had been putting in - the endless hours, the grueling exams, the way law school prepared you for the Bar, not actual law practice. You plucked a loaded nacho chip from the red plastic basket in front of you before refilling your glass. The four of you chit-chatted as you people watched. 

Teresa let out a low whistle. “Professor Hottie is here.”

“Huh?” You questioned, turning your head. When you saw who it was, you nearly choked on your beer. “Oh, Professor Kneef.” 

Bryan was at the bar, his attention on the bartender. You felt yourself grow warm as you drank him in. He was dressed casually, dark jeans and a button down, the sleeves rolled up, top button undone. 

“That’s all you have to say?” Teresa teased. “Oh?”

“What do you want me to say?” You questioned as you plucked another chip. “He’s here. And?”

“You worked with him right? At his firm?” Diego  asked. “I heard he was a real ball buster. In and out of the office.”

You nodded and took another sip of your beer, hoping against hope that the subject would soon change. 

 “What was he like?” Teresa questioned wistfully. “I wouldn’t be able to get anything done at all. I’d be on my knees, serving him in more ways than one.”

“Right? I would let him teach me a thing or two after hours,” Elody laughed in agreement.

You bristled at the idea. “I guess I can kind of see the attraction. Asshole fired me—“

“Kind of? He is gorgeous! We should invite him to sit with us.” 

“What?” You nearly screeched. All eyes at the table turned to you and you felt yourself flush again, but this time out of embarrassment. “It’s weird,” you clarified. “He’s a teacher, we’re students…”

Being in a secret relationship was tough.

None of your friends knew of the explicit relationship you were engaged in with Bryan - or as they knew him, Professor Kneef.

“And he’s an adult. We are adults. I wanted to order mozzarella sticks anyway,” Elody replied, ignoring your comment. “I’ll ask- worse, he says no.”

You watched as Elody made her way through the crowd and to the bar. She tapped Bryan on the shoulder and you saw her ask him. She pointed back to the table and when Bryan’s eyes met yours, you turned your face, focusing on your drink once more.

You knew you couldn’t come clean and admit to people that you and him were in a relationship. At least not yet. No, that was not the part that you struggled with.

You wanted no more than to stay in bed all day with Bryan - just fucking and cuddling, rest and repeat. School got in the way of that.

In class, you’d catch Bryan staring at you from his desk during exams. You would purposefully try nibbling the end of the pen, in an attempt to act seductive. If it worked, he didn’t let on. If you ran into Bryan on campus with classmates, he would deliberately brush against you, causing you to jump in response. Other times in class or during office hours, you would purposefully wear something a bit more revealing and bend forward ever so slightly, squeezing your cleavage together as you sat down, giving Bryan an even better view. And when he rolled up his sleeves in class or came in just slightly more causal than usual, you knew he had done for it you.

Moments later, you heard Elody’s cheerful voice through the loud music. “Look who wants to join us!”

You looked up at Bryan and he gave a friendly smile to all. When he turned to you, his demeanor was downright smug. “Hope you don’t mind.” He was eating the whole situation up.

“Not at all, Professor Kneef,” someone replied. You turned back to stare at your beer, wanting nothing more than the ground to open and swallow you whole. 

Bryan slid into the booth, sitting next to you. There you were - smack in the middle between Bryan and the wall. You couldn’t go anywhere. The scent of his cologne did things to you and you squirmed in your seat. Bryan squeezed your knee.

“What’s your poison, professor?” Diego questioned. 

“Scotch, neat,” Bryan replied. He raised his glass. “To the end of the semester.”

Everyone cheered and clinked their glasses.

Your breath hitched as you felt Bryan’s hand brush against your thigh. As if that wasn’t enough, you decided to take a sip of your beer at the exact moment his hand made its way to your crotch, cupping through the denim of your pants. 

You coughed, spewing some beer. You apologized to the table as you grabbed a handful of napkins.  As you cleaned up, you glanced in his direction. If Bryan noticed, he didn’t let on. Rather he was engaged in a conversation with Diego. You found yourself inwardly panicking but also incredibly turned on by Bryan’s secret touches. 

“I need to use the restroom,” you announced loudly to no one in particular. “Excuse me. 

“Actually, I have to get going myself,” Bryan replied. “I am meeting a colleague here and she should be here soon.”

Your head whipped at him at the comment. “Oh?”

“You remember Nancy Crozier.” 

You squinted your eyes and racked your brain. Nancy was blonde, blue eyed, too thin, too pretty and very charming. 

“Yeah, I do,” you replied quickly, grabbing your purse. “Excuse me, I do really need to go.”

Apparently Bryan wasn’t as busy as he told you. At least, not for Nancy.

You turned into the crowd, pushing your way through. You were upset that you were upset - jealous, really. Nancy was a formidable attorney who went toe to toe with STR frequently. She used her looks and feigned naivety to gain sympathy from the judge and have them rule in her favor. 

And deep down, if you had to admit it, you always compared yourself to the bevy of women Bryan had on rotation back when you both worked together. And it wasn’t as if your friends were the only ones who noticed Bryan’s handsomeness. You heard the whispers from others on campus as well. And there was always a line for office hours. Many times you felt as if you were living out that scene from Raiders of the Lost Ark where all the female students fawned over Dr. Jones. 

You could feel Bryan’s eyes boring on you as you walked away. Your throat tightened and tears threatened to spill. Instead of turning left towards the bathroom, you kept true until you hit the back entrance which led out to the bar’s courtyard. You took a deep breath as you stepped out into the cool fresh air. To your surprise, no one was outside. You leaned against the exposed brick and closed your eyes. You chewed your lip and tried to think of reasons as to why you had to go home. You figured you could just text the group when you realized that there was no back exit. The fence was a bit too high but you debated hopping over it anyway. 

You let out an irritated sigh as you turned around, and walked right into a solid chest. 

You began to apologize when you realized it was Bryan.

“This doesn’t look like the bathroom.”

“I— um, what are you doing here?” You scanned behind him, hoping no one was watching.

Bryan grabbed your wrist and dragged you into one of the covered cabanas. There was a small sign hanging on the cabana and Bryan flipped it around to indicate it was ‘reserved.’

“Wha—“ you began, but Bryan interrupted you by pulling you tightly against him and capturing your mouth with his. You instantly sagged in his arms, as his lips pressed against yours, his tongue rolling against yours. You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him even closer, if that was at all possible. His mouth moved to your neck, nipping and sucking. You couldn’t hold back the moan that bubbled from within.

“So glad this semester is over. I’ve missed you so much,” Bryan growled as his hands roamed over each and every curve and plane of your body. He pressed into you and his length was hard against your stomach. “Can’t you tell?”

“Here?” You ask, the word broken up by the hitch in your breathing as his hands keep moving. Thoughts of Nancy and the other women faded away. 

“Of course here,” Bryan growled. “Are you worried someone might see?”

You moaned, a surprising sound that caught you off guard. Weren’t you worried about someone seeing you only a moment ago? Bryan’s hands are on the waistband of your jeans and your pussy throbbed in response.  Weren't you just thinking it wouldn’t matter at all if anyone saw?

“I—“

There was a fleeting thought that perhaps you’d want them to see. Show everyone and then some who Bryan Kneef really wanted. 

“I don’t care,” Bryan growled. That comment alone made your heart flutter. His hands made way to the front of your jeans and he nimbly undid the button and fly before shoving his large hand down your panties. 

Bryan let out a dark chuckle. “So wet for me. Is this turning you on?”

It was torture, plain as day, having Bryan’s skilled fingers down your jeans and in between your thighs. You let out a whimper as he turned his wrist so that the heel of his hand was pressed against your clit.

Bryan sensed you holding back, desperate not to make a sound. He slid two fingers deep inside of you. You keened wordlessly into his shoulder, biting down on his shoulder to suppress a moan. You can hear the mingling sounds of other patrons who had made their way outside. They were chatting away, blissfully unaware that you were getting finger-fucked. 

And anyone could walk in at that moment.

Bryan pushed the heel of his palm flush against your clit and ground it hard. 

“You really are beautiful,” Bryan murmured in your ear. “Making you come is my favorite thing to do.”

You jolted your head, staring at him with wide eyes. Your chest was heaving, your lips swollen from kissing. A small sweat had broken along your skin. 

Bryan ducked his head once more. But he didn’t kiss you, instead just breathing against your mouth, lips barely brushing. Every nerve in your body was electric. You felt warmth bloom throughout your body as the pressure caused you to explode, coming against his hand, your arousal dripping down his hand. Bryan swallowed your sounds with another kiss as he massaged the last ebbs of your climax with the tips of his fingers against your clit and you can’t help but come again. “Just like that,” he cooed. “Such a good, good girl.” 

You remained all starry eyed and in a daze as he removed his hand. With his other hand he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze as he took his fingers and placed them in his mouth, sucking them quickly. His eyes were twinkling as he pulled them out with a satisfying pop.

“Delicious.”

You watched silently as he fixed your jeans, re-buttoning and zipping the fly. His fingers, still wet with his saliva, traced the dark mark he had left on your neck. 

“Beautiful,” Bryan murmured. He pulled you into an embrace once more, his lips pressing gently against yours. The hairs of his beard tickled you ever so slightly. Your brain was empty, completely blissed out. 

There was a buzzing sound and Bryan looked at his phone “Oh, Nancy is here. I have to go back in. Tell your friends I covered their tab. I’ll text you later sweetheart.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Bryan had already made his way out. After a moment, you collected yourself again and made your way back into the bar.

As you sat back down, your friends looked at your curiously.

“You okay? You look flush and you were gone for awhile,” Elody questioned, her brows furrowed. Her face was etched with concern.

You shook your head and waved your hand. “There was a line, like usual. But on my way back, I ran into Professor Kneef and he said he paid our tab.”

“Is that a hickey on your neck?”

“What?” you asked alarmed, slapping your hand over your neck.

“Yeah, did you have that before?” 

“Uh, you’re seeing things,” you sputtered. “You’ve had too much to drink.”

There was a cacophony of glass shattering sounds - followed by raucous cheering and applause. You took advantage of the opportunity to slide out of your seat. 

“Catch you later,” you shouted to no one in particular. 

You made your way through the crowd, and as soon as you got closer to the door, you spotted Bryan and Nancy. Your eyes met his and you felt your cheeks burn as he winked at you. 

Outside, you took out your phone, and ordered a cab. As you waited,  you texted Bryan. “I don’t want to go home all by myself. I’ll be all by my lonesome.”

The car hadn’t even left the parking lot when you got a message from Bryan.

“On my way - leave your door unlocked.”

FIN. 

AN2: I tried tagging folks but tumblr is being dumb.

Tags: @madpanda75 @beccabarba @melk917 @averyhotchner @qvid-pro-qvo @sass-and-suspenders @detective-giggles @detectivebarba @ottosuricato @plaidbooks @witches-unruly-heart @wanniiieeee @tintinxtintin @mrsrafaelbarba @mrsraulesparza @i-justreally-like-cats-okay @glimmerglittergirl @lovebishoplosamiguelgalindos @storiesofsvu @madamsnape921 @zoeykaytesmom @greeneyedblondie44 @alwaysachorusgirl @amelia-song-pond @annabelleb49 @gibbs274 @glimmerglittergirl @imjustreallynosy

[itsjustmyfantasyroom]

Two beards

Its been a long long minute. Life has not been kind to me, but although this is a little late, this is for @beccabarba birthday. This is just the start that I needed to get out, more to come when the writing fairy sprinkles me with some writing dust to help me get out of this funk.  

WC: 732

Warnings: None really, setting the story line, sorry if the one Spanish word is wrong, I goggled it.

Enjoy x

As you sat across the table looking between the two bearded men, you were not surprised that they had ended up in conflict resolution. You had 20 separate complaints from multiple judges, court staff and past jury duty citizens all voicing how both these well-educated men ended up going toe to toe either during or after a case in front of way too many people, court security being called in one too many times. Most judges didn’t want to go into a court room if they knew both were lawyers on the case and it was getting around the jury room about them, requests coming in that they be moved to different trails. You were the last stop before final steps would be taken so that they would be banned from representing clients that belonged to the same case.  

You sat back in your chair, looking down at your watch before crossing your arms over your body and rolling your eyes seeing the meeting that had only started 10 minutes ago and they were already at each other’s throat, throwing insults at each other. For two men that were so educated and handsome, you really wondered how they had this much hate for each other.

You let them get it out of their system and watched on as they went tit for tat bringing up past cases saying if they said this the other would have lost or if the other hadn’t of slept with the judge in college the other would have won. You started to tune out flicking through the pile of complaints when you noticed the English they had been talking in switched to Spanish and you tuned back in to what they were saying. Your ex-partner being Latin and you understood every word. Your eyes shot between them like you were watching a ping pong game, and the soon career based insults turned very personal, they insulting each other about their mothers and you saw red,

“Para” you roared through the room and slammed your hands down on your desk “Do you hear yourselves?”

Both men froze mid-sentence, taking their gaze from each other and setting their eyes on you. For a moment heat swept through you when you seen the intense look on both their faces and you quickly pushed the feelings away, your rage at their behaviour pushing back through you again.

“Both of you get out of my office, now” you spat.

You frowned your brows and watched as both of the bearded men stood up off their chairs and walked out, your door being shut behind them. You threw yourself back in your chair and sighed shaking your head, in your 15 year career and your 5 years in this office, not once had you come across two lawyers being this bad. You had heard rumours about Bryan, seeing firsthand what he was capable of in and out of the court room, but Racehorse was new to the court rooms in town and as far as you knew he hadn’t snuck his claws into anything just yet. You spent the rest of the day doing your research and coming up with a plan of action, also getting your personal assistant to send emails to both of theirs informing them when they needed to appear in your office again.

The sun had started to set and you were the last one left in your office, everyone else gone home. You where finishing off some paper work from another conflict resolution case when there was a knock on your door, you yelled out come in thinking it was your uber eats,

“Just sit it on the corner of the desk. Thanks” not even looking up from your screen and you kept typing. You continued to look at your screen till you heard a clearing of the throat and you looked up over your screen and raised an eye brow “Don’t you think you two have cause enough issues for one day. I’m off the clock” you sat back in your chair with a huff.

Both men started to make their way towards the other side of your desk, both sitting in the same seats they sat in earlier that day. Bryan sitting a bottle of whiskey on the table, a smirk pulled to his face and grin pulling to Racehorse’s,

“Hope you have glasses”

Tags: @beccabarba @ben-c-group-therapy @alwaysachorusgirl

[iobsessoverfictionalmen]

The Temptation of the Immortals - Master List

Warnings: cursing, canon typical violence for the Percy Jackson series, spoilers for the Percy Jackson series, nightmares, the gods being absent parents, references to Greek Mythology, mentions of starvation and trauma. Please take notice of and heed the warnings; they are there for a reason and they will be at the top of each chapter. Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated.

AN: Once again, I'd like to thank @thatesqcrush for posting the image of Bryan that I used for my mood board. If you're a fan of Raúl Esparza's acting, go check out her writing and edits!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

[hvnnibalecter]

can some of ya send me some good multi-chapters fanfics with Rafael Barba and Bryan Kneef ? 💕

[thatesqcrush]

Alright, making plans, making plans. Send me a request for any* REE characters & a #/prompt

Note: I reserve the right to not write for some characters/requests/prompts.

Kinktober 2024 Prompt List

Please feel free to share and use the list below. Or the header! This is only for anyone 18+ years of age, minors - please do not interact. Please feel free to tag me in any and all Kinktober stories that you post, I’m eager to read them. Have fun and have a wonderful Kinktober!

Handjobs // Temperature Play // Breast Worship

Piercing // Double Penetration // Voyeurism

Sixty-nine // Public Sex // Pet Play

Sensory Deprivation // Leather or Latex // Watersports

Rough Sex // Anal Beads // Bondage

A/B/O Heats or Ruts // Sadism-Masochism // Anonymous Sex

Bruising or Bitemarks // Virgin // Ice Play

Flogging // Swallowing // Cock Warming

Anal // Praise Kink // Food Play

Face Sitting // Lingerie // Overstimulation

Gags // Shaving // Knife Play 

Sex Toys // Dirty Talk // Breath Play

Pregnancy // Aftercare // Roleplay

Gangbang // Collaring // Candle - Wax Play

Hair Pulling // Glory Hole // Teasing

Nipple Play // Cock Worship // Lactation 

Squirting // Dom - Sub // Period Sex

Cockring or Plugs // Foot Fettish // Massaging

Suspension // Fisting // Mirror Sex

Infidelity - Cuckolding // Cunnilingus // Threesome

Gun Play // Monsterfucking // Shower - Bath Sex

Deepthroating // Thigh Riding or Fucking // Choking 

Licking // Degradation // Breeding 

Glove Kink // Masturbation //  Somnophilia

Pussy Slapping // Non Con - Dub Con // Titty Fucking

Pegging // Edgeplay // Seduction 

Lap Dances // Hate Fucking - Angry Sex // Breast Worship

Fucking Machine // Phone Sex // Impact Play

Branding // Hunter - Prey // Uniforms

Weight Gain // Object Insertion // Sex Pollen 

Free For All 

[frederickchiltonsproperty]

I love how much Bryan Kneef content there is out there to say he had what, 5-10 minutes of screen time💀

[storiesofsvu]

Bryan Kneef NSFW Alphabet

Bryan Kneef x reader Warnings: so much smut, so many kinks, dirty derogatory talk, teasing, threesomes, edging, masturbation. y'all know the drill lol. I don't remember if this was requested. It's been sitting in my wips for MONTHS now and I figured I should finally finish it.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

It mainly depends on the setting, if Bryan takes someone home, or is in someone’s bed he’ll give the minimal amount of cuddles he needs. He doesn’t like to, but he knows with the amount of bdsm kinky things he’s into he needs to make sure his partner is okay afterwards, no matter what level of involved they are. He’ll usually wait til she’s asleep and then sneak out. If you’re in a committed relationship he’s going to be incredibly gentle, if its not too late he loves to take a bath with you, watching the hickeys and marks on your skin darken as he holds you under the water, enjoying the relaxation himself.

B = Body part (your favourite body part of theirs and theirs of yours)

He adores your ass. I mean, he loves all of your body, tits, hips, calves, lips, but your ass is something he can never get enough of. Grabbing it, squeezing it, fucking it, he’s all about  ass.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) Bryan loves to cum deep inside you, and adores watching the cum leak out of you, fucking it back into your cunt with his fingers, a toy or his cock (this is of course as long as your on BC or he’s snipped, he aint about that baby life). He also loves coming on your face, basically anything with cum, the messier the better.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) He will sub for the right person, and will gladly get pegged and he absolutely adores it

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) He’s *very* experienced. He knows exactly how to seduce someone and exactly how to please them, and just the best way to get himself off. Name something and he’s likely tried it. He’s afraid of basically nothing and is always down to explore kinks or walk someone down that road.

F = Favourite position (this goes without saying) Doggy. There’s no doubt. He loves to watch your ass, thrust a thumb into your ass as he fucks you, pull you flush against him, hand wrapping around your throat as he pounds into you from behind.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s more serious. A few little chuckles here and there before he’s done with it. Though if he’s actually with someone he’ll be more goofy in the moment, but even with someone he loves he’s sill gonna be more serious.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) 

Bryan likes to sleep around, he’s a playboy and that kind of intimacy doesn’t even become part of the conversation until he’s sure that he wants to pursue a relationship with someone or if he knows that from the start and is “courting” them instead of seducing them. Ya get me? Lol. If he sees you and knows instantly you’re more than a quick fuck he’s gonna pull out all the stops, rose petals on the bed for the first night you sleep together and shit.

J = Jack off (masturbation head canon)

Likely daily. Morning wood taken care of in the shower. In the evening’s he’ll strip down and get into bed, getting super comfortable, drink in one hand, cock in the other as he turns on porn and watches for a few hours. Most nights it’s gonna be a long run, teasing himself until he can’t hold back anymore.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

It would literally be easier to list the things he’s *not* into LOL. Bryan’s all about the BDSM community, he likes to tie you up, use a crop to spank you, all about the toys for both you and him. Pet play is something he enjoys, and you just have to know this man has a dirty kink.

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

He knows he has to be somewhat careful due to his job/image, but he’ll likely fuck you anywhere. He’s a bit of a exhibitionist, loves fucking you up against the windows, bent over his desk, the bathroom at a bar, in the shower at home, over the kitchen island, on the couch.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

 A number of things! He particularly enjoys you in lingerie, or little hints of it peeking out from under your clothes. Skirt riding up just enough to see the top of your thigh highs, bending over just enough so he can see the red lace under your shirt. Coming home to find you half or fully naked in his bed. Getting sent racy texts or photos is what really gets him going. He’s also the one that gets horny jealous. If he sees you flirting with another man/getting hit on by another man you just know he’s going to take you home (or to the nearest private space) and is gonna remind you who you belong to and why.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

There may be a lot he’ll experiment with but I’m gonna say that scat play is past his limit.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves pussy but he absolutely loves getting his dick sucked, there’s just nothing comparable to it. The image of you on your knees in front of him makes him instantly hard, and he obviously likes them messy. Likes when you spit into your hand before stroking his cock, loves fucking your face, drool dripping down your chin, thrusting so deep into your throat you’re gagging around him, eyes watering, mascara running. The more ruined you are by the end of it the better.

When it comes to giving, he is good at it and knows what he’s doing, but it’s a step that he’ll skip for his quick hook ups.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Fast and rough 99% of the time. He likes it hard, he likes to fuck you senseless, deep and hard enough that you’re going to be feeling it for the rest of the week.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Absolutely fucking adores them. Quickie in the shower, quickie in the morning once he sees the lingerie you’re wearing. Sees you in a fancy dress for a gala? Gonna fuck you in the backseat of the car on the way there. Office quickie? You bet.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Absolute risk taker. He’s always game to experiment and try out something new. He’s only turned down a couple of things over the years and that’s cause they were super fucking weird. He’s more than willing to role play, for you to dress up, or recreate porn you’ve watched together. And he’s obviously not against fucking in public.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) He can last a decent amount of time. Long enough for the foreplay, for you to suck his dick and then to fuck you into next week. If he is starting to get tired, or it’s been a longer day, he’ll make you ride him a while before he dicks you down. As for rounds, he can go all night, but he’s gonna need a bit longer of a break between turns, and he loves to cock warm you during those.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) This man has a toy collection big enough to rival your own, maybe even bigger. He’s got a couple of vibes to help out when his hands get tired, or the position means he can’t really reach your clit. He’s definitely got one that sits in your panties and rubs on your clit that he has the remote to. Same with an internal one of the same. He’s got butt plugs of varying sizes, at least one dildo so he can fully double penetrate you without having someone else there. He’s definitely got a couple of cock rings and at least one of them vibrates. He’s also not afraid of his own ass being played with, so he’s got toys for that too.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s the ultimate tease. Fantastic with words, sexts, and dirty talk he’ll have you absolutely dripping and whining for him and he’ll still make you choke on his cock, grinding on his shoe before he’ll touch you. And if you’ve been the one teasing him and riling him up all day, you better believe that he’s not letting you come, he’ll wait til you’re right on the brink and then completely stop. As long as he’s come himself, he’s not touching you and you just know you’re not allowed to touch yourself for the next week. (but he’ll use you however he wants to in that time frame).

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s not crazy loud, lots of groaning, grunting and swearing. But he’s also into dirty talk, and definitely leans to the derogatory side of things. Calling you his dirty whore, his little cum slut, how well you take his thick cock, how good it feels when he’s stretching you out, daddy’s needy thing.

W = Wild card (a random head canon for the character)

Loves M/M/F threesomes. Sometimes it’s the DP action, seeing two cocks stuffed tight into one hole (or two, depending) and sometimes it’s getting his ass fucked while he fucks someone else. He’s got no shame when it comes to that and will openly admit that he enjoys the company of both men and women.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) He’s thick, veiny, a shower. It’s big and he knows it.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Decently high. He likes to fuck a few times a week at the very minimum and I like to believe he’s a daily masturbator. Even on the days where he’s tired or out of it, working late or the like and doesn’t really have the yearn to fuck all it takes is you showing up in your lingerie, or naked, or getting on your knees and he’ll start to get hard.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Pretty fucking quickly, especially if he’s certain there’s no more rounds to be had, or if it’s a work night, he’s out pretty fast.

_______________

@detective-giggles @plaidbooks @thatesqcrush @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @bisexual-dreamer02 @amelia-song-pond @madamsnape921 @whimsicallymad @mrsrafaelbarba @mysticfalls01 @ssaic-jareau @caracalwithchips @barbasbodaciousbeard @alwaysachorusgirl @beardedbarba @michael-rooker @rafivadafreddy @lustvolle-liebe @anlin2058 @fandom-princess-forevermore @tinyboxxtink @alexusonfire @xovalliegirlxo @somethingimaginative17 @momlifebehard @misscharlielulu @alcabots @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @louderfortheback @valentinesfrog @originalbrunettecharacter @wittygutsy

[madamsnape921]

Terms of Service

Pairing: Bryan Kneef x female reader 

Warning: language, anal sex 

WC: 1822

Raúl Taglist: @beccabarba @alwaysachorusgirl @law-nerd105  @prurientpuddlejumper @thatesqcrush @welcometothemxdhouse @itsjustmyfantasyroom @lv7867 @word-scribbless

@plaidbooks @storiesofsvu @navalcriminalimagines

On a frosty December night, Bryan Kneef glanced at his calendar with a sigh. "My final Pro Bono for the year. Thank goodness. Maybe I can finally focus on my actual fucking job." He stood up and reached the door, only to find you waiting. The office was dimly lit, and it was past regular working hours. Bryan was eager to begin the consultation before the looming end-of-year deadline.

Bryan walked you into his office. You were clearly of some means, but only a little.

"Mr. Kneef, will you represent me?" you inquire, shifting in your comfortable armchair. Your short pencil skirt rides up to your thighs, revealing a seductive amount of skin that catches Bryan's attention."

Bryan's confusion was evident as he asked, "You just walked in... I mean, what happened?"

"My name is YN. Recently, I had to defend myself when a police officer made unwanted advances towards me." You can't help but smile at the memory.

Brain took the file from his desk and opened it. 

“According to the report, you removed a red high heel and tried to stab him in the face while shouting, "I am not just an object, you chauvinistic pig." He glances at you from the corner of his eye.

“That is correct,” you smile.

"Fine, I'll indulge you. Let's discuss my payment."

“I was told in advance that I should receive the pro bono. What does that mean exactly?

I have to complete a certain number of volunteer hours. Thankfully, these tasks are usually simple and only take about an hour to finish. Some people opt to serve jail time instead of completing the entire sentence.

“I don’t want to go to jail,” you frowned.

“Well, I don’t want to waste my time on a loser of a case. Sucks to be us.”

“Is there anything I can do to help my case?”

“Well, you can pay me. However, I am not cheap…”

“I… I work three gigs and do door dash. There must be something else.”

At that moment, Bryan was aware that no one else was in the office. Only the two of them, so Bryan simply said, "Stand."

“Excuse me?”

“I said stand.”

You stood in front of him, feeling confused and vulnerable. You have no idea what is going on or what to do next. All you know is that if you end up in prison, it would mean missing work, losing your home, and potentially being ruined financially.

“Turn.”

Still confused, you turned around.

“Your ass.”

“Excuse me?” You look at him concerned.

“Your ass is the fee for my services.”

“I’m not a whore.”

“You aren't an inmate yet. I can make sure that you don’t do anything at any time,” Bryan quipped.

“And you want my ass?”

“I want to take you over to that private conference room and fuck you against the glass in front of the entire city. I finish inside of you, and then you get off scot-free. How does that sound?”

You looked panicked but knew you must consent to his offer. “I guess. But this one fuck covers everything.”

“Assuming you play along like I ask, yes.”

“Ok. Take me to the room.”

“First strip. I want to watch that ass of yours walk from one side of this office to the other.”

You stripped from your dress and underwear and slowly walked to the conference room. Bryan quickly came up behind you, smacking your ass with every step. “Quicker, girl.” 

You jump at the smacks, “It’s YN.”

“Fine, quicker, YN.”

With your heart pounding, you increased your pace and nearly started to run. You had no idea where you were going, but suddenly, you came across two massive glass doors that led into a spacious room with enough seats for 40 people. You sprinted inside, and Bryan shut the doors behind you.

“There’s the window, YN. Go.”

You rush to the window, eager to see the city's lights at night. Suddenly, a strong force pushes you against the glass, sending shivers down your spine from the coldness of the window pane. The contrast between the harsh cold and the warmth of your body creates an electrifying sensation. Instantly, you feel two large hands with thick fingers grip onto your buttocks, providing a pleasant contrast to the harshness of the window.

"Welcome to my city, Miss YN," he says with a tone of authority. "In this office, I hold the reins and make sure everything runs smoothly. If you want to maintain your current lifestyle, you'll need me. Tell me that you need me." He pressed you up against the glass with force.

“I need you, Mr.Kneef. I need you to save me.”

Bryan's arousal intensified at the sight of your naked body, causing his manhood to grow even more taut and stiff. He removes his jacket and drapes it over the table, adjusting his suspenders and unbuttoning his cuffs in the mirror's reflection. You catch him looking at you through the window; a cocky grin spreads across his face as he reveals his muscular forearms. His piercing peridot eyes scan the dark room and the twinkling cityscape. The hunter has spotted their prey and is ready to make their move.

"Miss YN, I won't even bother taking off my pants. As you can feel..." Bryan reveals his hard erection from beneath his clothing. "Your insatiable desire doesn't require it. I must always maintain a professional boundary with my clients." You can feel the tip of his member pressing against your entrance. He begins to tease your clit, causing you to become even more aroused and wet. Using his plump fingers, he gently stimulates you, and you let go of any inhibitions and enjoy the pleasure, momentarily forgetting that you are exposed 35 stories high in full view of the city below.

You hear the cold click of a tape recorder.

Bryan uses your wetness to lubricate his cock before carefully inserting a finger into your opening. “YN, I am claiming this hole as payment for my services. Do you agree to the following terms of service…”

“You freely admit that you need my services dire?”

“Yes, Mr. Kneef, I do.”

“You freely admit that you are without other options?”

“Yes, Mr. Kneef, I do.”

“You freely agree to the terms of the relationship as discussed in my office, as written on my letterhead and dated today.”

“Yes, Mr. Kneef, I do.”

“You waive any rights to negotiate these terms of service further.”

“Yes, Mr. Kneef, I do.”

“You are knowingly relinquishing control of this tight, needy,” slides another finger in, “hole to Mr. Bryan Kneef.”

“Yes, Mr. Kneef, I do,” you moaned.

As you glance at the window, you catch Bryan's smile. You turn to look at the reflection and see him lining up his cock with your asshole. The pressure of the head against your hole sends shivers down your spine.

“Mr. Kneef, it’s not going to fit.”

“Miss YN, you agreed to a contract with me for my services. Let me show you what I do best." With care and precision, Bryan pushes his entire length inside of you, the size of it making you feel like you're in two different cities. He starts to move steadily, in a rhythmic motion, never pulling out altogether. His head remains firmly embedded within your walls.”

“Miss YN, look at my eyes in the window,” you did as you were told. “These are the eyes of the man who owns this ass. Your ass is mine, and why is that?” He began to pump faster.

“Because I can’t control myself, Mr. Kneef. I need someone to help me out of my messes,” you replied. 

“Miss YN, you should be more careful that less deserving men don’t use you like this. Your ass is too good to be wasted on such squaller.” He pumped at a continued quickened pace.

“Mr. Kneef, I am so lucky that you own this ass.” Kneef stopped and slowly pulled his entire cock out of your ass. 

“Say that again, Miss YN.”

“Mr. Kneef, I’m so lucky that you own this ass.” He pushed the head of his cock on your hole. 

“Once more, just the important part, Miss YN.”

“You own this ass,” you gasped. Bryan continued without hesitation, moving his cock in and out with full force.

"One more time, Miss YN, let's feel it," he demanded, thrusting his hardness into you. The sensation slowly builds and intensifies as he pounded into you. Just as you were about to reach climax, he abruptly stopped. Your body was vibrating with anticipation, begging for release.”

As you stared into his captivating green eyes, you cried out with delight, "YOU OWN THIS ASS, MR. KNEEF!" And the feeling of Bryan's cock inside you sent waves of pleasure throughout your body, causing you to orgasm. Your muscles clenched and released, drawing every last drop of cum from him as he released entirely inside you. You both take a moment to catch your breath and bask in the post-orgasmic bliss. Your bodies are intertwined, breathing and sweating together. Bryan finally pulled out of you.

He tucked his cock back into his pants and backed away from you. He handed you his pocket square to clean up and then offered you his jacket. “Let's go back to my office to complete the transaction.” You walked quickly behind him in the dark office. You closed his office door behind you and sat in his guest chair. 

"That was fantastic, Mr. Kneef. It's a shame we won't have the opportunity to experience that again."

Bryan's face lit up with a smile as he chuckled. "Can you put your signature on this?" He slid a piece of paper towards you.

“What’s this?” you asked.

“The terms of our agreement. Sign at the bottom, Miss YN.”

“Wait...” you read the short document, “I never agreed to this four times weekly.”

With a smile on his face, Bryan retrieved his tape recorder. You heard your voice responding, "Yes, Mr. Kneef, I do." He confirmed, "You did indeed."

“I’ll report you to the bar.”

“I’ll let you go to jail. Sign the paper you already agreed to.”

Reluctantly, you put your signature on the documents declaring that you would engage in anal intercourse four times a week at a mutually beneficial location.

“...and further down…”

You read the last clause of the contract, saying to look in the left jacket pocket. You placed your hand in the pocket and pulled out a small box. “Miss YN, will you become Mrs. YN Kneef?”

You started slowly crying, “Yes, Bryan, a thousand times yes.”

The roleplay is falling apart; you had no idea he was even thinking about marriage. “You smug bastard.”

“That’s husband smug bastard to you, Mrs. Kneef.”

“Next anniversary, I chose the roleplay.”

“Next anniversary, I’ll be fucking my wife in any way she desires.”

[thatesqcrush]

Fall From Grace, Pt. 10.5

Bryan Kneef x reader. Part of the Fall From Grace series. NSFW for graphic smut, obscene language (right under the cut). Y'all already know the drill. Proceed at your own risk.

AN: Story crosses over with Suits. Yeah, that other lawyer show. Also feats. some of the language of the pilot from Suits when Mike & Bryan meet (where in the show Mike shows off his eidetic memory to Harvey).

AN3: This fic was very much inspired by Vampire & Bad Idea, Right? by Olivia Rodrigo. See if you can spot the lyrics.

WC: 4K

The sun poured into the bedroom. You groaned, trying to block out the light. The sounds of the city coming to life filled the air stirring you awake. The buzz of your phone alarm filled the room and you rolled over with a groan to shut it off. It was ten to 6. Despite the end of summer drawing near, it was still bright out. Clocks wouldn’t change for another month.

You blinked a few times before recalling that you weren’t alone. You looked over to the side where Bryan was asleep on his stomach. You smiled and it was in that moment that Bryan himself woke up.

“Hey.” He had a bit of a frog in his throat. He cleared his throat and repeated himself. “Good morning.”

“You know, I'm really glad that you came. And told me how you felt,” you replied, your voice quiet, but wistful. “I’ve really missed you.” You laid on your side, noting to yourself how adorable Bryan looked with his hair all mussed up from sleeping. He started to go gray in his temples, just smatterings of salt intermixed with pepper. It skyrocketed his handsomeness. You could pinch yourself over the fact that despite everything, it was you that he wanted.

Bryan reached over, a single finger tracing your cheek. “I’ve really missed you too.” He propped himself up on his elbow.

“Which begs the question, what if I hadn’t been so… forgiving?”

“Oh, I don't know,” Bryan hummed. “All that unresolved sexual tension? It was kind of fun.”

You let out a giggle as you nodded. “It was, wasn't it?”

Bryan wrapped a large hand behind your neck and pulled you in for a kiss, soft and tender. It quickly deepened and became more needy and passionate. You let out a moan as Bryan’s very talented hands began to venture further south. He rucked your negligee up, exposing your tits. 

You pulled back and sat straight up, pulling off the lavender satin negligee you changed into at some point in the middle of the night. 

Bryan palmed your tits, enjoying the weight of them in his hands. His thumbs ghosted your nipples, already rock hard due to the combination of cool air and arousal. You could feel how hard he was beneath you. You ran your hands through your hair, pushing it back and off your face.

“Wanna throat fuck me til I cry?”

Bryan’s normally tranquil green eyes darkened, his pupils blown wide with arousal, and he gave you a lascivious grin. You let out a yelp as he flipped you over, so you were on your back. 

Bryan flattened his hand along your body, over the swell of your breasts, down your sternum and across your stomach. Your skin goosebumped under his touch. 

Bryan took your thighs in his hands, and gently spread them apart. He grabbed your calves and positioned them so that your legs draped over his shoulders. He placed open wet kisses along your inner thighs. The wiry hair of his beard was rough against your skin, burning in a delicious way. You shivered involuntarily as his breath hovered over your folds. 

Bryan gave a small chuckle against your legs and you propped yourself onto your elbows. “What’s so funny?”

Bryan met your gaze. “Getting used to you with a full bush. All the other times that we fucked, you were bare or you had just a landing strip.”

You arched your brow. “Are you fucking serious right now? I haven’t had time to take care of that.” You paused for a beat before continuing. “And it’s not like I had a steady stream of suitors beating down my door.”

“Shame for them,” Bryan murmured. His thumbs dragged up your lips and pulled them apart, exposing the pink of your flesh, already so wet for him. He leaned forward and inhaled your scent before pulling back slightly to spit. Bryan used the pad of his index finger to stroke  along the seam of your folds to your clit, spreading and mixing your wetness with his spit. 

You collapse onto the bed and closed your eyes as Bryan dove into your folds. His tongue performed in ways you didn’t think was humanly possible. His tongue was warm and wet, and you could hear the obscene sound of wetness in the room. Your pussy juices drip, coating his beard as Bryan continued his onslaught, devouring you hungrily. 

He flattened his tongue and licked the whole length of you, tasting you. He kept at it, licking you with big, broad strokes, before trapping your swollen, sensitive clit between his lips. At first he focused on your clit with his tongue before moving onto scraping it just ever slightly with his teeth. Your hips jerked from the intensity, and he laid a heavy arm over you, keeping you in place.

“You taste so good,” Bryan murmured in between breaths. “Fucking soaked— dripping for me. Best fucking pussy.”

Bryan resumed his oral ministrations, his tongue massaging furiously, before moving his mouth lower again, letting his tongue dip inside you slightly. Your hips undulated against his mouth as he fucked you with his tongue. 

You whimpered above him, gripping the sheets as Bryan slid two thick fingers inside you. It may have been months since the two of you were together but he still remembered how to work you, hitting you exactly where you needed him to. His thumb rubbed your clit and you felt the all too familiar coil in your lower belly begin to tighten.

“Bry… oh fuck! Gonna come!” 

Bryan increased the pace of his fingers. “Give it to me sweetheart. Soak my face.” His mouth returned to your clit, torturing and abusing it in the best way.

You reached down and gripped his hair tightly, keeping him in place. Bryan grunted in response.

You find yourself holding your breath, stiffening as the coil snapped, careening you through orgasmic bliss. Bryan you through your climax, groaning as you soaked his face and fingers. You let out a deep guttural groan of his name.

Bryan’s fingers kept a steady rhythm inside you. His thumb ghosted your clit and you jerked in response, oversensitive.

You tried to move, but Bryan pinned you tightly against bed. “One more sweetheart, can you be a good girl and come for daddy again?”

Bryan crooked his fingers, finding that one spot that all your prior relationships could never find. Your legs start to tremble, abdominal muscles tensing. The pressure is intense, more so than before. His fingers fuck you with such a rapid rhythm and before you know it, your body arches as you come again, this time in a big wet gush all over his face and fingers. “Good girl, my good fucking girl.” His voice is low and gruff, adding another layer of intensity.

As you come down, Bryan cleaned you up with his tongue softly, languidly. He released your clit with a big wet squelch and made his way back up your body. You are trembling in the aftershocks of it all. 

“What a way to wake up,” you sighed contentedly. Bryan kissed you and you tasted yourself on his lips. Your breath is running ragged, your chest heaving. You stretched in place before rolling onto your knees. “It’s your turn.”

You took a pillow and threw it onto the ground. Bryan grinned and settled himself on the edge of the bed. His cock was red and angry. Cum weeper from the head dripping down a meaty vein. 

Your mouth watered at the sight and your cunt clenched around nothing, already aching and desperate for more. You longed to taste the salt of his essence, feeling the weight of his big cock on your tongue. You looked up at him from under your lashes. 

“Like I said earlier, throat fuck me til I cry.”

Bryan twisted a hand into your hair and tugged, forcing you to look at him.

“Is that what you want? Gonna let me fuck your face til you cry?”

You nodded and let out a whimper. “Please.”

Bryan released his grip and took his cock in his hand. He tapped the head of his cock against your lips. “Open up sweetheart. This cock isn’t gonna suck itself.”

You smiled at him before opening your mouth wide.

***

Eventually you managed to pry yourself away from bed and Bryan, to get ready for work. Bryan planned to work from your apartment, but not before checking out of his hotel room and having his belongings brought over. 

You sat on the edge of the bed, pulling up your thigh high stockings. Bryan was in the shower and it took everything in you to not join him. 

You had decided on the mint green lingerie set - the same one you wore back when you were in the Hamptons, complete with garters. You chose a pencil skirt and silk sleeveless blouse. You finished doing your hair and makeup as Bryan emerged from the shower. You couldn’t help but gape as he sauntered in completely nude, peacocking for all to see.

“Jesus Christ.”

Bryan preened. “You sure I can’t tempt you to take the day?”

You looked at him and then at your watch. “I really, really want to… but I have a bunch of time sensitive stuff to get out. I’ll leave early though - I’ll text you on my way out.”

Bryan walked over to you and kissed you deeply, effectively ruining your lipstick. You were breathless when the kiss broke. “I’ll see you later.”

“Bye babe,” you murmured. You turned and Bryan gave your ass a smack. You giggled and turned to look at him. You blew a kiss towards him before you shut the door behind you with a quiet click.

Later that workday, you found yourself in Rachel’s office personally dropping off some files so that you could spill to her and get her advice.

“But, God, Rach when I look at him, my brain goes, "’ahhhh’, like I can’t hear my thoughts like blah-blah-blah. And yes I know he’s my ex, but can’t two people reconnect?”

“The next thing you’ll say is he’s just a friend. That’s the biggest lie you have ever said.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “I— 

“So he tripped and fell into your bed?” Rachel asked in disbelief as she took a sip of her coffee. “When I last texted you, you said you were asleep.”

You swallowed your own iced coffee and let out a snort. “I just never said where or in whose sheets.”

Rachel sighed. “Do you not recall what led you to leaving Chicago? He broke your heart. And now you’re getting back together after just one date? He needs to prove himself.”

“I— he— yes, everyone told me he was bad, bad news. God, I hate the way I called them crazy too. With him - I see the parties and the diamonds when I close my eyes. And it’s not like I did not try the NYC dating scene which was a bust. And I am sure I’ve seen much hotter men, but I can’t remember when.”

Rachel’s eyes narrowed. “You’re my friend - I love you. I cannot stand to see you get hurt again. The four of us should go out to dinner. He hasn’t gone back to Chicago yet has he?”

You shook your head. “No, he leaves at the end of the week. He was originally going to boomerang back to Chicago after the depo but he wants to spend more time with me–”

“In bed,” Rachel cut off.

“Well, yeah. I mean why not? I certainly am not complaining,” you laughed. You leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms. 

Rachel sighed once more, this time not as irritated as before. “I just don’t want to see you hurt again.”

“I appreciate it, Rach, really I do. I owe it to me - to this relationship to give it a real second try. I truly love him.”

“It sounds like your mind is made up. But again, let’s have dinner with the four of us. See if the great Bryan Kneef can charm Mike and I as much as he has charmed the pants off you.”

—

You returned to your apartment with the day’s mail in tow. “Knock knock… Bryan? I’m home.”

Bryan looked up from your couch where he had just been furiously typing. “Sweetheart - welcome home.”

To Bryan you were a sight for sore eyes. He had been working on a brief that was causing him more grief the longer he plugged away at it. But there you were, blurred eyeliner and messy bun, even a run in your stocking. In that moment, he never found you more beautiful.

“Change of plans,” you replied tiredly. “We are going to have dinner with Mike and Rach. Figured STK would be good for us all.”

Bryan groaned. “I was hoping we could order in, stay in bed. Make good on my limited time here.”

You dropped your purse onto the couch and climbed onto Bryan’s lap. You wrapped your arms around him and pressed a kiss to his lips. Bryan’s arms wrapped around you and pulled you closer to him. You trailed your fingers along his chest and picked off a piece of imaginary lint. “I know,” you replied quietly. “I just want the people I love to get to know the man I love.”

Bryan grabbed your hand and kissed the top of it. “Besides,” you continued as you moved to nuzzle his neck, “didn’t you agree that all of the unresolved sexual tension was fun? Just think of dinner as such and we’ll be so keyed up after that–”

Bryan reached up to cup the back of your head, gently steering you against his mouth. He slanted his mouth against yours. His tongue licked hotly into your mouth, tasting you. His hands moved around from your hips to the swell of your ass, grabbing and squeezing. Arousal shot through you and suddenly the idea of waiting seemed to be stupid. You tried to do the mental math of possibly a quickie and getting ready and out the door on time. 

Bryan apparently read your mind. “You know,” he husked, as his lips skimmed the slope of your neck, “we don’t even need to change out of these clothes. It would be so easy to just push your panties to the side and slide my cock right in.”

You squirmed, biting your lip. “I guess I can fix my hair and make-up in the cab,” you reasoned. 

Bryan chuckled darkly. “Then turn around and lift that skirt and show me daddy what he wants. Show me that pretty pussy.”

You brushed your lips against his and then climbed off his lap and turned around. You had a feeling he would be pleased with what you wore underneath. You rucked your skirt over your thighs, revealing your stocking and garters.

“Is this the same set you wore when we were in the Hamptons?”

You turned your face to Bryan, your brow arched. “Yes, good memory but that’s not the takeaway I wanted.”

Bryan let out a small chuckle. “I suppose not.” He stood and undid the zipper of his pants and pulled out his cock, already painfully hard and throbbing. 

You stood in front of him, your back to him and bent forward ever so slightly. Bryan took the opportunity to lay a hard slap on your ass, enjoying how your skin rippled and bloomed in response. 

You let out a moan as he cupped you. Bryan smirked at the feel of how slick and ready you were for him even while still wearing panties. Panties that were absolutely ruined. His fingers trace along the lines of your panties. Your core throbbed and pulsed with need. Bryan hooks his fingers into the sides and pulls them down, dragging the ruined fabric down your thighs. There you were, the pink of your most feminine parts on display. “You’re fucking soaked,” Bryan muttered. “Look at you. That perfect pussy needing more.”

You shivered in need and anticipation. He sunk two fingers inside your warm, wet heat which greedily sucked him in. You let out a moan as he alternated twisting and scissoring his fingers.

His thumb ghosted your clit and you found yourself rocking rhythmically on his hand. Your desire and need to come grew stoked easily to flame as you were already keyed up from the morning. He crooked his fingers forward and stroked upwards. You jerked and gasped at the sensation, at the feel of the spot that only he knew. Your breath heaved as pleasure coursed through you. You were so close to coming when Bryan removed his hand. He tapped his hand against your cunt, delivering small but deliberate spanks. You jerked once more, and Bryan had to grip your hip to keep you steady. 

Bryan used your slick that he gathered on his fingers as lubricant as he continued to pump his cock.

You turned around to fully face him and nodded. “My pussy is always ready for you, always hungry.”

“Let me see.”

You bent at the waist again, jutting your hips to his face. It was evident to Bryan how your pussylips were swollen, glistening with your juices.

“Yeah? That pussy is hungry? And what does that pussy of yours need?” Bryan asked. His eyes followed yours which were zeroed in on his cock.

“Your big cock,” you whimpered as you hovered over his lap.

“Then let me help with that,” Bryan offered. You pushed your panties to the side and sunk onto his thick length. Bryan let out a grunt while you let out a sigh of content. The feel of his cock inside of you is nothing short of incredible. The way he splits you in half once fully seated and how your cunt flutters to accommodate his length, well the burn is delicious. The burning stretch eventually settled into complete fullness as if your bodies were made just for one another, a missing piece to a puzzle.

Bryan shoved his fingers into your mouth and you can taste yourself on them. Your eyes shuttered close as you sucked on them. 

You released his fingers and Bryan used the same hand to slap your ass again. You wrapped your arms around his neck and began to grind against him. The pace, despite it being a quickie, is slow and romantic. Bryan is big, thick and hard, filling you up perfectly. 

“Is this how you liked to get fucked?” Bryan grunted. You whined, unable to formulate the words. The steady drag of his cock along your cunt has rendered you speechless. “Good girl, take it. Take this cock.”

You whined as you buried your face into the crook of his neck. You take the opportunity to scrape your teeth along his skin. The action made Bryan’s toes curl and he held you tightly as he fucked you harder and deeper. Your cream dripped down his cock. You allowed yourself to get lost in the pleasure. “Don’t worry darling,” Bryan promised in between punctuated thrusts that caused you to sob and whimper with need. “I’ll take care of you. Don’t I always do?”

You manage to eke out a yes as your cunt fluttered around his cock. Your clit rubbed against the fabric of the clothes you are both wearing. You are at the precipice. You ground yourself harder to get that friction you need and your mouth goes slack as you come, soaking his cock with your release. 

“Take what you need, take it,” Bryan grunted, his teeth gnashing together. He kept his pace and you kissed him hungrily as you came down from your high. “Come for me Bry,” you manage in between sloppy, wet kisses. “Fill me up. I need it, mark me, this pussy is yours.”

Your words sent Bryan over and he let out a stream of grunts and growls as he pinned your hips down to his as he released his spend into you in thick white stripes. 

You both sit there, catching your breath. Bryan tilts your chin and kisses you once more. “Here’s the part where I make a corny joke about happy hour,” he replied with a smirk. 

You laughed. “Or I can be cheesy and say every hour with you is happy hour.” You peppered kisses all over his face. 

Bryan slanted his face just right to catch your lips. He kissed you softly and slowly. You sagged against him, just enjoying the feel of his body against yours. When the kids finally broke, he pushed some hair off of your face. His green eyes sparkled as he met your gaze.

“Every hour with you is happy hour. I love you.”

Your heart swelled to the point where you thought it would burst. “I love you too.”

—

You both managed to get out the door on time. You hailed a cab which came easily, much to your surprise given the time. Bryan spent his time watching the city go by as you shook your hair to give it volume and tried very carefully during the bumpy taxi ride to re-touch your lipstick. Dinner that evening at STK was the Bryan Kneef show, charming and showboating for hours over alcohol and various decadent dishes. 

“So your lovely wife tells me you have an eidetic memory,” Bryan remarked to Mike as he wiped his mouth. 

“What if I told you I consume knowledge like no one you’ve ever met before.”

Bryan arched a brow. “Prove it.”

“Pick a topic - anything.”

Bryan furrowed his brow, thinking. “Stock option backdating.” The waiter came by and brought Bryan another drink. Bryan took a sip and then continued, “Although backdating options is legal, violations arose related to disclosures under RIC section 409A.”

Mike smirked. “You forgot about Sarbanes-Oxley.”

Bryan gave a half smile and crinkled his eyes. “The statute of limitations render Sarbanes-Oxley moot post 2007.”

Rachel and you have each other knowing glances.

“Well not if you can find actions to cover up the violation in the Sixth Circuit May 2008.”

Bryan smiled. “That’s impressive.”

“Once I read something, I understand it. And once I understand it, I never forget it.”

“Shit, I should have you all come out to Chicago.” The table laughed. 

Rachel turned to you and mouthed ‘I love him.’ 

You gave her a look, which read ‘told you so.’

“As much as I do enjoy the Windy City, I’m a New Yorker through and through. I’m glad to see you happy,” Mike chimed in, turning towards you. “You deserve it. Bryan, you’re a lucky man.”

Bryan reached over and grabbed your hand. “I am very lucky,” he agreed. “A gorgeous woman who actually likes to keep my company and swallows my cock with such genuine want? That’s true love.”

“Bryan!” you half-shrieked as Rachel and Mike spat out their drinks. 

Then just when you thought it couldn’t get worse, Mike retorted similarly with respect to Rachel. Rachel dropped her head in defeat, her cheeks turning bright red. “Oh my god, this is not happening.”

Bryan ultimately settled the bill. The two of you bid adieu to Mike and Rachel as their taxi arrived. You turned to Bryan. “So now what counselor?”

“The night is young. We can go for a nightcap, or…”

You smirked. You pressed your body against his and kissed the corner of his mouth. His beard tickled your skin. Your voice was a whisper that only he could hear.

“Or.”

FIN.

[iobsessoverfictionalmen]

The Temptation of the Immortals Preview

AN: Here's a preview of my Bryan Kneef x Reader fic. I made the mood board on Canva and I found the images on google. Credits to the original owners and a huge thank you to @thatesqcrush for posting the image of Bryan that I used. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

“Unfortunately Mr. Kneef, your son is no longer suited to our academic environment.  Goodbye.”  The call disconnected in Bryan’s ear and he slammed his phone onto his desk with a growl.

“Dad?” Alexander spoke tentatively, “I’m not going back to that school, am I?”

Bryan shook his head, “We’ll find another school for you.”

“The teacher was being mean during class.  I didn’t think he would actually listen to me when I said that the lesson would be more entertaining if he turned on the fan and swung around on it with one hand.”

Bryan beckoned his son over to him and Alexander perched himself on his dad’s lap with his head resting against Bryan’s chest.  “While I find you another school, you will need a tutor.”

“Daaad!” Alexander whined, looking pleadingly up into the eyes that were the exact same green as his own, “The agency always sends the most boringest tutors and they never come for me.  Not really.”

“Believe me.  I’m aware of that,” Bryan remarked darkly as he remembered the various tutors barging into his study and informing him why they were truly there.  Whenever he rang up the agency to complain, it was as if the tutors had no memory of uttering any words to him.  To take his mind off of the problems he was facing, he tickled his son.

[deanstead]

RESA'S 3K FIESTA BINGO MASTERLIST

Posting the masterlist under the cut for all the fics under this so far! Bingo has been extended to 31 Jan 2023, so I'll continue to update as new fics come in as well! If your fic is not here, please let me know! Enjoy!

@resanoona

Supernatural Elements: There Will Be Peace (Dean Winchester x Reader)

Kids: A Girl (Will Halstead x Reader)

Snowed In: Snowstorm (Jay Halstead x Reader)

Fight that ends in a kiss: Hate Fighting (Adam Ruzek x Reader)

Hurt Feelings: News (Dean Winchester x Reader)

Fake Dating: Private Life (Jay Halstead x Reader)

Waking Up Next To Each Other: Our Little Secret (Adam Ruzek x Reader)

College AU: Change (Jay Halstead x Reader)

Sick/Illness: Vows (Connor Rhodes x Reader)

Hurt/Comfort: Bad Feeling (Matt Casey x Reader)

5+1: Five Times, and then One (Jay Halstead x Reader)

Neighbors: Spare Key (Connor Rhodes x Reader)

Kidnap/Hostage: Coming Home (Halstead!Sister)

Free: Christmas Surprise (Jay Halstead x Reader)

First Fight: The Good, The Bad, The Ugly (Will Halstead x Reader)

Facing Fears: Unknown Threat (Jay Halstead x Reader)

@sheetsonfire

Road Trip: Interstate Intimacy (Jay Halstead x Reader)

Woke up next to each other: Wrong Door (Jay Halstead x Reader)

Supernatural Elements: Thinning Of The Veil (Jay Halstead x Reader)

5 + 1: Five Times and a Date (Matt Casey x Reader)

Free: I Only Want To Be With You (Jay Halstead x Reader)

Fights that ends in a kiss: The Red Strokes (Jay Halstead x Reader)

Sick/Illness: In Sickness and In Health (Kelly Severide x Reader)

Weddings/Proposals: Suspects and Surprises (Jay Halstead x Reader)

Hurt Feelings: Free Will (Will Halstead x Reader)

Hurt/Comfort: Chasing Shadows Away (Jay Halstead x Reader)

@writercole

Kidnap/Hostage: Sacrifice (Dean Winchester)

Free Space: The Way You Look In Black (Dean Winchester)

5 + 1: A Guardian Angel and Her Knight (Jake Seresin)

@afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff

5 + 1: 5 + 1 (Will Halstead x Sylvie Brett)

First Fight: First Fight (Rheese)

Free Space: Quiet Nights (Brettsey)

Fake Dating: What Are We? (Will Halstead x Reader)

Sick/Illness: Sicker than a dog (Halstead!Sister)

@wordsandupstead

Bodyguard AU: Bodyguard (Upstead)

Facing Fears: Positive (Jay Halstead x Reader)

Sick/Illness: secrets, soup and sassiness (Halstead!Sister)

High School/College AU: there for her (Upstead)

@district447

Supernatural Elements: Prince of Hell (Kelly Severide x Reader)

@i-like-sparkly-things

Hurt/Comfort: Stay Awake (Burgstead) // Stabbed (Halstead Brothers)

@enchantedblackrose

Hurt Feelings: Not Pretty (Jay Halstead x Reader)

Free Space: Happy Birthday (Jay Halstead x Reader)

@i-spaced-sorry

Road Trip: Optimal Road Trip (Halstead!Sister, Upstead)

Coffee Ship AU: Coffee Shop (Intelligence)

@storiesofsvu

Neighbors: Start of Something New (Derek Morgan x Reader)

First Fight: Journey To The Past Ch 15 (Bryan Kneef x Reader)

Hurt Feelings: Journey To The Past Ch 16 (Bryan Kneef x Reader)

Sick/Illness: Dunbar Magic Hot Chocolate (Heather Dunbar x Reader)

Snowed In: Washington Whiteout (Elizabeth Keane x Reader)

Forced Proximity: Learn to Share (Emily Prentiss x Reader)

Hurt/Comfort: Iowa Chill (Heather Dunbar x Jackie Sharp)

[tropes-and-tales-archives]

Bryan Kneef:  Breaking Point, Part Nine

Word Count:  6786

TW:  Angst (job loss; DUI; family estrangement); fluff (reconciliation); smut (PiV, unprotected).  18+ only.

AN:  Part nine of a nine part series.  Other parts can be found here.

The night of the STR Laurie holiday party, you had asked Bryan Kneef if he had a rock bottom.  The implication in your tone was that no, he didn’t have one.  But that wasn’t true.

Bryan Kneef had a rock bottom.  In truth, he had been working his way to it for years and years, but the real, final skid started only a few days after your disastrous hookup the night of the party.

He had thought that it was odd how no one in his group chat had mentioned the plans for St. Kitts for the year.  The morning after your hookup, he sent out a few texts as feelers.  It was a day or two later when he got a reply – a halting series of texts from his stepbrother, gently explaining that everyone would prefer if he didn’t come this year.  

“Maybe next year?” Kyle texted.

Bryan didn’t respond to that.  He managed to cobble together a last-minute trip to Maui, but it was lonely.  The spectacular sunsets, the sea breezes all reminded him of you now, and you weren’t there.  No one was there but him.

Kyle’s gentle rebuff around St. Kitts was just a precursor.  Bryan’s stepbrother met him for lunch early in January, and over seared bay scallops, he informed Bryan that unfortunately, he wasn’t invited to the spring nuptials between Kyle and Jessa.  

Normally Bryan wouldn’t care, since weddings were just bullshit anyway.  He was still hurting from St. Kitts, though, and honestly – Kyle was an only child too, and Bryan was the closest thing he had to a brother.  Why wasn’t he invited?

“Jessa is really close with her cousin,” Kyle said after hesitating a moment.  He glanced up at Bryan and took in his blank face, then sighed in exasperation.  “You took her home after the engagement party.”

The memory was a little hazy; Bryan had been mostly tipsy and a little drunk.  “Oh.  Yeah.”

“Oh, yeah,” Kyle mimicked.  “Jesus, Bry.  You don’t even remember, do you?  You had sex with Jessa’s cousin and then kicked her out immediately like a complete douche.”  Kyle shook his head.  “I’m sorry about the wedding, but Jessa doesn’t want any drama.  I don’t want any drama.”

-----

If that were the end of it, Bryan would have been fine.

So he was mostly estranged from his remaining family.  Fine.

So he had grown apart from his oldest friends.  Fine.

It wasn’t the end of it, though.  Bryan had a long way to fall to hit his rock bottom, and because he was an asshole who drove everyone away from him, he was alone for all of it.

*****

When you got home after the disastrous night with Bryan, you took the weekend to give your life a long, appraising look.  Ever the planner, you wrote out a list of things you wanted to achieve in the upcoming year, and at some point on Saturday night (after you finished off half a bottle of Moscato), you made a snap decision.  When you woke up on Sunday morning, late, your email was full of confirmations – airplane tickets, vacation rental.

It wasn’t the worst thing you could have drunk-bought.

Everything else with Bryan Kneef aside, the trip to St. Kitts got into your bloodstream and never left.  It was the travel bug, for a woman who had never traveled further than Missouri her entire life before.  You had been born and raised in Chicago.  You attended college there, and you found a job there.  But St. Kitts had reminded you that the world was big and diverse and beautiful, and if that was the lesson you took from your interlude of madness with Bryan….there were worse lessons to take away from it.

You spent you holiday break in Rincon, Puerto Rico which felt fitting.  “Rincon” meant corner, and it felt like exactly the right place for you to see out the old year.  You found a small studio apartment that overlooked the ocean, and because Bryan and his too-cool-for-school friends were absent, you did everything.  You snorkeled.  You tried surfing, and you discovered that you did not have the balance for surfing.  You went for hikes and got your first massage.  You went horseback riding.

And when you got home to Chicago, you got to work on the rest of your new year’s to-do list.

First thing was first:  find a new job.

The truth was, STR Laurie bought out your firm years ago.  It was fine as a company, paid well enough, but there were too many inconsistencies between departments.  Some groups got bonuses, plenty of days off, the occasional catered lunches….other groups, not so much.  The senior litigators seemed to do whatever they wanted with little more than slaps on the wrist from H.R.

There was something deeply unsettling about your work.  You had somehow fell into a corridor of the law where you helped the very rich defend themselves and their money and property, as if they couldn’t spare a hit to their outrageous fortunes when they behaved terribly.  It made you uncomfortable.  You had grown up in that hazy place of working class and lower middle class:  your mother had been a housewife, and your father a carpenter.  You had attended public school.  Your college career had been funded by Pell grants and a generous scholarship.

So you left STR Laurie after securing a coveted role with the Exoneration Project.  Your new boss never sneered at you and called you just a paralegal.

Second thing:  find a new place to live.

You had been living in Wicker Park for a while now, and you always rented because you were holding out on the hope of finding someone, getting married, buying a place together.  So much of your parents’ unequal marriage had seeped into your subconscious without you even realizing it.  You’d been waiting on a man before you allowed your life to really start.

You were limited in what you could afford in Chicagoland with your salary, but when you found the place in Ravenswood, you knew it was the one.  It was love at first sight.  You had been waiting on a person, but it was a house instead – a well-sized place that had been stripped to the bones by an ambitious amateur house-flipper before the mortgage caught up to them and it went into foreclosure.  But it had a nice, small backyard and everything was updated – electric, roof, plumbing.  

And you had been your father’s little helper for all of your childhood, so you knew how to hang drywall and install tile.

You made an offer, and you were stunned when it was accepted.

By the end of summer, you had a new job, a new house.  The house wasn’t done, of course – most of it was still torn down to the studs – but it was livable.  You had a functional bathroom and kitchen, and you were camped out in a guest room while you worked on your bedroom.

In September, with the shortened days and the chilly nights, you got lonely.  Instead of going out and finding some broken asshole to try and fix, you just adopted a dog.  A dog, you found, was infinitely more trainable than a man and far more loyal.  You named the scrappy mutt Joey, mostly because you loved how confused people seemed to get about a dog with a human name.

You weren’t sure how much of your life overhaul was organic and how much was caused by Bryan.  Certainly, you had been drifting through life since your mother died the year after you graduated from college.  Your dissatisfaction – a growing frustration with your life – had only grown every year since.  But it was something about that awful final night with Bryan that seemed to spark the change, and by the start of October, your anger and frustration at the man had burned off like fog rolling off of the lake.

If you ever saw him again, you might even thank him.

*****

STR Laurie let Bryan go in March.  “Let go” was a polite euphemism for “fired unceremoniously,” which is to say:  Bryan Kneef was marched into H.R. one morning, read a list of unforgivable sins, and then marched out of the building with a security detail.

On the list of sins was one glaring omission – blackmailing an employee into a holiday vacation – so he knew that secret was safe.

In the end, it came down to his abrasive behavior.  Lawyers – especially really good ones like him – got away with a lot.  Other industries wouldn’t entertain an employee like him:  the casual cruelty and the more intentional cruelty.  His department had bled personnel until he was completely staffed with people like him, namely, douchy frat boys.  It was fun at first, but the lesson came too late to save Bryan’s job:  people like him were fucking exhausting to deal with.

Bryan wondered if you’d gloat once you heard, but he didn’t think you would.  You were, at your core, a kind person.  A thoughtful person.  At worst, you’d shake your head knowingly at the news of his demise.

It was harder for him to find a job than he realized.  He used to be pursued by headhunters; now he was calling people in his alumni network for crumbs.  There seemed to be millions of lawyers in Chicago, but the legal community was still tiny.  Everyone knew he’d been canned by STR Laurie.

He got the DUI in April.  

To be fair, he wasn’t drunk.  Not drunk drunk.  He’d only had a few drinks, but they had been on an empty stomach, and when he blew through the red light on Michigan Avenue, he had been a prime target for the cop sitting there.

But those were excuses, and as part of his plea deal, he had to deal with his problems.  The chirpy little ASA wanted him to commit to AA, but Bryan negotiated for a private therapist instead.  He had thought, incorrectly, that he could charm his way through therapy.  

No chance – he ended up with an older man who looked like a kindly Santa but who fucking tore through all of Bryan’s glib snark within the first ten minutes of their first session.

Here was Bryan Kneef’s rock bottom:  unemployed, friendless, estranged from his family, with a suspended driver’s license.  He had a failed engagement because he’d been a cheating bastard, and after that, all he had was a string of failed affairs and half-relationships.  Anytime a good woman made him feel something, he pushed her away.  You had been the latest, but you certainly weren’t the only one.

The nice thing about rock bottom, however, is that there is nowhere to go but up.  Sure, it was a cliché, but Bryan Kneef was sufficiently humbled now.  A little cliché was fine by him.

-----

It was almost the end of October when Bryan saw you again.  He had found a job – finally – with the state attorney’s office in Cook County.  Ironic, that.  Bryan used to represent the rich and powerful of Chicago.  Now he prosecuted them as an ASA.

He was at the courthouse, loitering around the lobby.  It was one of the more difficult moments; he always wanted to celebrate a victory with a drink, but he knew it was dangerous to celebrate alone.  Bryan wasn’t dry by any stretch, but he had identified (with his therapist’s help) harmful patterns.  He had rules now – never drink alone aside from a glass of red wine before bed.  Never drink more than two drinks in one sitting.  And so forth.

Never get so blindingly drunk as to drive away the one woman who seemed to enjoy being with him.

It was stupid, but when Bryan won a guilty verdict, he always wanted to reach out to let you know.  He thought that you, out of everyone he knew, would be pleased by his sudden shift to the right side of the law.  

It was like a scene out of a movie.  He stood in the lobby, fiddling with his phone uselessly, and thought of you.  And like magic – there you were.  It was so unexpected that he had to do a double take.

You looked beautiful in a vaguely-retro looking tweed suit – the skirt hit right at your knee, and the coat was perfectly cut to your form.  In the biggest surprise, your feet were clad in a pair of patent leather pumps instead of your usual colorful flats.  You looked like a lawyer, but Bryan knew the timeline wasn’t right.  You couldn’t have graduated from law school and sat for the bar all in the span of ten months.  You hadn’t even showed interest in becoming a lawyer.

You were standing and talking with an older woman that he didn’t recognize.  Did STR Laurie acquire a new firm?  Whatever you had been at the courthouse for had ended well, judging by the broad smile on your face.  

When you worked for him, you could feel him staring at you about half of the time.  You must have felt the weight of his gaze now, because you turned your head and scanned the lobby – and saw him.

It wasn’t that your smile fell, exactly.  It was more like it receded a little, like the outgoing tide.  The smile left your eyes, but stayed on your lips where it hardened just a fraction.  The woman with you caught your gaze, and she said her farewells and left you standing there.

*****

There was no good reason for you to get a drink with Bryan, but you weren’t the same person you had been a year ago.  From the looks of him, Bryan wasn’t the same person either.

He looked much the same – maybe a shade thinner, but nothing extreme.  His expression was markedly different.  When he walked over to you, there was no sneer or frown on his face.  He looked….happy to see you.

There was a nearby martini bar that was a favorite of the courthouse set, so that’s where you went.  Surprise number one:  Bryan ordered a mineral water.  In the entire time you’d known him, you had never seen him drink something that wasn’t alcohol.  You had always just assumed he stayed hydrated by the miniscule amount of water that melted from the ice in his whiskey.

Surprise number two:  he was charming, and not in his usual asshole way.  He was…nice.  You wanted to reach out and touch him, see if he was real and not some android replacement.  For all the time you’d spent with him, he had never once showed an interest in your life.  Now, he was asking you a ton of questions.  He seemed genuinely interested, so you told him all about your new job, your new house.

Surprise number three:  Bryan told you about his life.  He was probably hedging a bit, but he was shockingly honest.  He had been fired.  He had gotten a DUI.  He was in therapy.

The final surprise of the evening was when he apologized to you.  It was a genuine apology, not the half-assed sorry’s he gave you at the holiday party.  He looked you dead in the eye and apologized.

“I treated you terribly,” he said.  “And there’s no excuse for it.”  He glanced down at his glass of water, toyed with the wedge of lime on the rim.

It was weird seeing him so uncharacteristically humble.  “It’s okay,” you replied.

“It’s not okay,” he said with a firm shake of his head.  “I blackmailed you.”

“It wasn’t blackmail.”

“It was though.  I weaponized your kindness for your coworkers to force you into a holiday with me.  Forced you to pretend to be my girlfriend.”  He slumped a little, his shoulders rounded in apparent shame.  “Forced you…” He trailed off and didn’t finish the sentence, but his intent was obvious.

“Hey.”  You reached out and tapped the back of his hand.  “You didn’t force me to do anything.  I could have gone to H.R.  The vacation to St. Kitts felt like a mutually beneficial thing.”  You paused until he looked up at you, and you added, “and you definitely didn’t force me to sleep with you.”

It made him smile.  It was a small smile, but probably the first real one you’d ever seen on his face.  

“You’re too nice for your own good,” he said.

He was probably right in that regard.  When you both went to leave and stood out on the sidewalk in the chilly autumn evening, he hesitated a moment and then reached for you.  You stepped into his outstretched arms and let him pull you into a warm hug.  His behavior was completely different, but he smelled exactly the same – the cologne that smelled like an expensive, musky wood fire.

“I’d like to call you sometime,” he said once he finally released you.  Bryan Kneef probably never looked uncertain in his life, but he seemed almost shy now.  Shy-adjacent.

“I’d like that too,” you told him.  

*****

Bryan knew he didn’t deserve anything from you – not your time, not your forgiveness – but you gave him both.

It was strange, dating a woman.  Dating in his previous life meant buy them some drinks, then fuck them, then repeat until someone got bored or found greener pastures.

Bryan knew he could likely charm you back into bed, but he had spent too much time in therapy picking apart his relationships with women.  How he focused on shallow encounters.  How he fled from connection, feeling.  How it all traced back to his mother’s untimely death from cancer in his childhood.

He eased into things with you now.  It was the most difficult thing he ever had to do, delaying intimacy, but he did it because he wanted intimacy.  He didn’t want to just fuck you.  He wanted what he almost had in St. Kitts.

For the rest of October, he kept everything in first gear.  There were a few lunches during the workweek and a few dinners.  One Sunday night, he was feeling especially low – his bad feelings stirred up in anticipation for Monday afternoon’s therapy appointment – so he called you.  You took his call, and you talked with him for two hours, listening to everything he spewed at you, offering support.  Your mother had died from cancer too in the year after you graduated from college, and Bryan felt a warm (albeit sad) kinship with you over it.  Both of you, motherless.  Both of you with fathers who remarried too quickly and ignored their children’s needs.

By November, you were the one who moved things forward a little.  You invited him to your house, and the old Bryan would have openly mocked you for how unfinished it was.  New Bryan could see the potential, and more than that – he saw the gleam you got in your eyes as you showed him what you’d done already and what you planned to do.  

He wasn’t even jealous when the two of you sat on your couch and your mangy mutt crowded him out and got between you.  It was a first for him – a shelter dog cock-blocking him.

By the end of November, though, he was invited to spend the night at your place, and you shut your bedroom door firmly in your dog’s face (but only after handing him a huge rawhide bone in apology, and promising him an extra-long walk the next day).  

And then when you turned to face him, to step into his waiting arms, there it was – that fucking smile like he was the only person in the world that you wanted to see.

*****

Before, the two of you had fought:  the snowball fight, his drunken rant on New Year’s Eve, your own emotional raging at the STR Laurie holiday party.  Your first fight as a couple came in December.  You hadn’t realized that you were a couple now, but the fight revealed the fact to you.

You had started the tradition of traveling for your holiday breaks.  Your father had remarried a full month into his widowerhood years ago and started a second family, and neither you nor your sister really fit in with them.  Your sister was married with a kid, and she spent her holidays with her in-laws.  With no one to spend the holidays with, and after the thrill of going to St. Kitts, you traveled.  

Last year you had gone to Puerto Rico on a whim, but this year, you had planned a little better.  You had chosen the Maldives all the way back in June.  The plane tickets were booked, the little rental on the beach was booked.

When Bryan broached the subject of the holidays, you told him about the Maldives, and his face got that stony quality you remembered from working with him.  Before you knew it, the fight was upon you.  He wanted you to cancel your plans and join him in St. Kitts.  You wanted him to get real – why would you go back to St. Kitts and relive that?  No infinity pool was that good.

The real issue wasn’t St. Kitts.  The real issue was that he wanted to spend the holidays with you.  It didn’t matter where.  That fact hit you like a load of bricks.

Therapy wasn’t lost on the man.  You’d give him that much.  You watched him as he physically took a step away from you, and you swore you could see his therapist’s words rolling through his head as the silence descended between the two of you.  You gave him all the time he needed.

When he finally stepped back towards you, he took a deep breath and held out his hands in a conciliatory motion.  In a move that probably pained him – the man who never needed anything or anyone – he looked you dead in the eyes and asked if he could join you in the Maldives.

“Bryan, I…” You hesitated to answer him; you had to get the right tone.  “I’d be happy for you to join me, but – “

“But,” he echoed, and his face looked set and stony again.

“But…the place I rented is not…not some villa on the hillside.  It’s just a small little cottage.”

“So?”

You stared at him a long moment.  This was the man who had deep and strong opinions about the top notes of his whiskey.  This was the man who once dressed down a paralegal for having a four-in-hand tie knot instead of a half-Windsor.  This was a man who openly sneered at any cut of beef that hadn’t been hand-massaged from womb to slaughterhouse.

This was the man who mocked your glee and wonder of the world.  Sure, he seemed different now, but how would he feel when he saw the vacation you had planned?  The tiny cottage with no infinity pool, no waterfall showerhead, no giant Viking range in the kitchen?

Bryan must have read the expression on your face and understood its source because he snorted and gestured around him.  “Baby, you don’t even have walls in half of your house.  Whatever you rented in the Maldives is fine.”

You crossed your arms.  “I don’t believe you.”

Some vestiges of the old Bryan remained.  He was still a smarmy bastard sometimes, and he fixed you with a fully vulpine smile that only softened once you uncrossed your arms and let him pull you into an embrace.  It seemed like it was easier to talk to you sometimes when he didn’t have to look at you, so you weren’t shocked when he muttered against your head, so low that you nearly missed it.  

“I just want to spend the holiday with you,” he mumbled softly.  When you joked that he sounded like he was veering into boyfriend territory, he tightened his arms around you and replied, “would that be so bad?”

Sometimes you wondered if you had really drowned in St. Kitts and everything that followed was some sort of purgatory-based test to gain entry into heaven.  It made your head spin, the unreality of the situation.  At this time two years ago, you were so furious with your asshole boss that you drilled him in his smug, handsome face with snowballs.  Now he was holding you tight to him and asking you in a roundabout way to be his girlfriend.

You heaved a sigh of mock-weariness and extricated yourself from his arms.  “Fine,” you told him with a forefinger poking him in his sternum.  “But the minute you start complaining about the accommodations, you’re getting slapped.”

You had always suspected that Bryan had some pain or humiliation fetish.  You hadn’t missed how his eyes had darkened in lust, for example, the time you slapped him in his office.  He verified your suspicions now – his deep green eyes narrowed a little, and his voice dropped a quarter octave.  

“Promise?” he asked.

*****

What a change from two years ago.  Bryan remembered your first airplane flight, how icy your hand was in his and how you had huddled against him involuntarily.  Now you breezed right down the plane’s center aisle and ignored the flight attendants’ safety demonstration like a veteran traveler.

You were nervous though.  Bryan could feel the tension radiating off of you, and he felt a sting of shame about it.  He was the cause.  You mostly only knew him as an irredeemable snob and a consummate asshole, and your carefully planned vacation seemed shabby in your eyes now that he was tagging along.

He couldn’t tell you otherwise.  He just had to show you.

The private cottage you had rented was small, but it was lovely.  There was no pool, but there was a Jacuzzi and a huge bed and it was right on the beach.  You watched him look everything over, and judging by the way your jaw was set, you were just waiting for criticism.  Hell, your itchy right palm was practically twitching to deliver a blow.

“Seems small,” he said casually, and sure enough, you lifted your arm and hit him.  It wasn’t hard at all, just a light pat to his cheek, and you held your hand there to cup his face.  The look on your face – the soft smile, the hopefully rise of your eyebrows – was irresistible.  Bryan stepped forward and dipped his head to kiss you, and even though you had been traveling for over a day, he didn’t stop for quite a while.

-----

You and Bryan seemed to have different philosophies surrounding vacations. Bryan wanted to lie on the pure white beach and stare at the ocean that was so blue it made his eyes ache.  You had an agenda.

It was just your zeal for life, and after a bit of grumbling, Bryan leaned into it.  He skipped from island to island with you, went snorkeling, rode on horses, chatted with the locals.  It was refreshing to experience the world with you, since you were so unabashedly in love with the world.  At your side, Bryan shed a little more of his tough outer shell.

If the days were fun, the evenings were magical.  It was the same sort of spell from St. Kitts, only more honest.  You weren’t his fake girlfriend – you were his real one.  He wasn’t trying to make anyone jealous – he was only trying to convey how much he cared about you.

How much he loved you, even if he couldn’t quite say the words out loud.

You were both settled into the jacuzzi for the evening after a light dinner.  You had been shipwreck diving that day, an endeavor that revealed how out of shape Bryan was.  He lowered himself into the jacuzzi with a tortured groan, and you followed him a moment later with a pair of glasses and a bottle of wine.  Over the past few months, he had taught you the complicated calculus around what and how much he would drink, so now you both sipped at the shiraz and watched the sun sink in the west.

There was one similarity to St. Kitts, and it was how you got a little melancholy at sunset.  You still got that faraway look on your face, and you still sighed a little.  Bryan asked about it once and you seemed surprised and unaware that you did it.  He didn’t press – he only watched you, and if you seemed a little sadder some nights versus others, he only held you a little closer to remind you that he was there.

That’s what he did tonight as the sun set – he took your wrist and tugged you over to him until you were nestled against him.  He drew his fingertips up and down your arm until you gave an involuntary shudder against him.

The swimsuit you were in was familiar.  It was the same one you practically lived in during St. Kitts, which was fortuitous – Bryan already knew how to get you out of it.  As the sun set and as darkness settled over the island, he toyed with the knotted straps behind your neck, letting his fingers slip into your damp hair until your breathing was uneven and you were squirming against him.

The water gave a bit of buoyancy, and it was easy to maneuver you into his lap.  It was his favorite position, you sitting on his lap with his cock buried in you, you just a fraction above him so that he could access your face or your tits just as easily.

After his awkward foray into asking you to be his girlfriend back in Chicago, the hard conversation about birth control ensued.  You were still hurt by his accusations, rightfully so, and Bryan had to sit and listen to all of it.  Then, haltingly, the real truth came out.

“I don’t think I want kids,” you had told him, and you looked terrified once the words were out of your mouth.

“That is not a deal-breaker for me,” he had replied.  “At all.”

Then, because he hadn’t snapped at you or called you a monster for lacking maternal feelings, you admitted that it wasn’t that you didn’t think you didn’t want kids – you knew you didn’t.

Bryan admitted as much to you, and it was the most honest either of you had ever been with the other.  Or with anyone, possibly.

For now, in the Maldives, the box of condoms in Bryan’s carry-on luggage remained untouched.  You had an IUD, and Bryan already had an appointment in Chicago for a vasectomy for when he returned.  The difficult conversation was behind you, as well as a heartfelt apology for the St. Kitts blow-up, so in the jacuzzi, you wriggled out of your swimsuit bottoms and resettled in his lap.  His cock was rock-hard, straining against his trunks, and it twitched against your hand when you reached down to free it from its constraints.

You pumped his length in your hand almost lazily as you lined yourself up to him.  You notched the tip of his cock against your entrance and removed your hand.  You placed a hand on each side of his face to hold him firm, kiss him deeply, as you lowered yourself onto him.

Fuck, it was romantic bullshit like this that Bryan always avoided in the past, but it killed him when it was you doing it.  It was sensory overload – the feel of your fingertips against his bearded cheeks, the feel of your tongue licking into his mouth, the feel of your slippery cunt taking every inch of him until your ass was settled on his lap.  You moaned into his mouth when he finally bottomed out and the crown of his cock nudged against the end of you.  You moaned again when he wrapped his arms around your waist and drew you down another fraction onto him.

He let you set the pace, and you went slow.  The pace in Chicago was always a bit more playful, more frenetic, but island life slowed you down in your love-making.  You rode him at a languid speed, the look on your face dreamy at the sensations you were feeling.  For Bryan, it was like heaven being buried in you.  He fit you perfectly - the analogy of a lock and a key came to mind like a damned cliché.  He loved how your arousal coated his intruding length the closer he brought you to orgasm; he loved how well your feverish flesh gripped him when you finally did come.

Over and over, he brought you to the edge and pushed you over it.  Bit back his own release that threatened at the edges of his vision like an impending blackout.  Once he made you come once, he found it was easy to bring about a second, a third.  You got so sensitive – your swollen clit dragging against the root of his cock, your quivering cunt never recovering from its aftershocks before coming again.  Even your tits got more and more responsive, until all it took was a brush of his lips – a bit of friction from his beard – to make you arch against him.

“Are you close?” you panted against his neck.  You had come a third time and then collapsed against him, your head nestled in the space between his head and his shoulder.  Your tits, tipped with diamond hard nipples, were pressed against his chest.  You had stopped riding him, completely exhausted, so Bryan pressed his hips up into you and smirked at the tortured little whine in your voice, the shaky, uneven way you were breathing against him.

“You’ve got one more,” he told you, and you laughed weakly against him.  When you tried to protest, he took one wrist and then the other into one of his hands.  He held them behind your back, a tame move of possession to remind you that while you may be on top, he was still in control.  A fact you happily agreed with, judging by how hard you always arched against him when he did it.

Bryan slid down in the jacuzzi a little, just enough to stretch his legs out and press his feet against the opposite side.  It allowed him to thrust up into you – one hand gripping both of your wrists behind your back, the other wrapped around the back of your neck.  His hand was big enough to cup your entire head, and he pressed the tip of his thumb into your soft cheek, kept you from turning your face away from him.  

Your eyes had that unfocused, fucked-senseless quality to them, and Bryan usually preened when he saw them like that.  It meant he had fucked you so well that he had completely short-circuited your brain.

“Look at me,” he ordered, and he had to turn your face back to him when you tried to look away.  Sometimes – since St. Kitts – you turned away from him when you were feeling too much.  He didn’t want that anymore.  He wanted you to look right at him and feel everything.

“Fucking look at me,” he repeated.  He was rewarded a moment later when you finally did, and he pressed his hips up into you and watched as your mouth fell open at the thrust.  It was something about your face – so open and so beautiful, especially in the afterglow your orgasms – that made Bryan feel suddenly sick, like he couldn’t draw a breath.  His throat felt tight and he swallowed hard.  It had been a terrible start of the year.  Cut off from his family, cut off from his friends. Unemployed and with a DUI and all his own doing.

But fuck was it all worth it to be here with you now.  It wasn’t just the sex, though that was certainly part of it.  It was the connection with you, the way you looked at him now.  Bryan Kneef openly sneered at love, at bullshit like soulmates, but damned if he didn’t think he’d found the one person for him in the entire world, and she was perched in his lap right now.

And not just that:  she had extended her forgiveness to him for the unforgivable.  She had let him back into her life when anyone else would have moved on and left him out in the cold.

“I love you,” Bryan said, and he said it so defensively that your eyes widened at both the words and at his tone.  He saw you open your mouth to reply, but he shifted his hand and covered your mouth.

“Don’t fucking say anything,” he continued.  “You’re too damned nice.  I don’t – don’t want you to say it back to me because you think you have to.  Just….just keep your mouth shut.  And know that I love you.”

He felt your lips curve into a smile against his palm, so he removed his hand and pulled you in so that he could kiss you.  He still felt sick – his heart was pounding in his chest – but he could discuss it with his therapist when he returned to Chicago.

Bryan never got that final orgasm out of you, but you never complained about it.  You held his head firm in your hands and kissed him, your mouth slanting against his with an intensity that stole his breath away.  That, paired with his confession and the incredible heat of your clenching cunt, made him unravel completely.  He felt that delicious tension in his gut, felt the moment it snapped.  His hips jutted up into you on their own accord, and he groaned your name into your mouth as he gave one, final thrust and filled you with his release.

You were silent as you nestled against him afterwards, and you were silent when you dismounted him.  You allowed him to lead you inside, and you showered together before bed.  Bryan was exhausted from the day’s activities, but more so from the confession.  It drained him to even admit to himself that he had feelings, let alone say them out loud.  Your silence wasn’t helping.

You put your hands on his shoulders and turned him around, and you scrubbed his back for him.  Such a simple gesture, but it made him want to cry.  

Maybe you sensed his inner turmoil.  You reached for the shampoo and gestured for him to bend down a little, and you lathered up his hair.  That did make him tear up, your gentle fingers massaging his scalp, over and over until all the sea salt and sand was out of his hair.

“Am I allowed to speak now?” you asked quietly as you rinsed his hair for the final time.  Bryan wiped the water out of his eyes and looked at you.  You were smiling at him, a little teasing.

“You are allowed,” he replied with a regal wave of his hand, and you feigned that you were going to smack his hand out of your face.  But your smile faded, and you looked at him with a solemn expression that made his heart sink.

“I love you too,” is all you said.

It made Bryan just as sick to hear you say it, but with enough therapy, he eventually would learn that the sick feeling – the tightness in his throat, the racing pulse – well, that was love.  It only felt like an illness to him because it was so foreign.

But all that insight was months and even years away.  All in the future, with you by his side – your house in Ravenswood finally finished, Bryan’s condo sold as he moved in with you.  You would eventually add to your family – another shelter dog, one for Bryan this time because Joey would always be your dog and never quite his.  When the second dog drifted more to you, Bryan wouldn’t even be hurt by it.  

Of course they loved you best.  You were the best.  

But that was in the future, and right now, you were watching him carefully in the shower of a Maldives guest cottage, and it was all only the beginning.  Bryan barely had the language to express his feelings (he’d eventually learn it, though he’d never quite be fluent), so he just gave you a nod of acknowledgement.  

And then kissed you.  When he tilted his head to capture your mouth with his, he caught that usual happy smile etched across your lips.

He only hoped you could see the same smile mirrored on his own mouth, just as happy to kiss you.  Like you were the only person he wanted to be with because, it had to be said, that was the honest truth.

[prurientpuddlejumper]

A Cat Called Dickface

Written for @storiesofsvu’s Fall Bingo, filling the Fireplace square. 

Dickface stolen from discord headcanons & plot inspired by @lannister-slings-and-arrows​ and @pascalispretty​ I’M SORRY I’M RIFLING THROUGH YOUR ASKS ;_;

Warnings: NSFW discussed (no smut), secret soft cat dad Bryan. You came for smut but got fluff instead oops. 

1,170 words

Your one-night stand with Bryan Kneef was not going anything like you had imagined.

First, there was Dickface.

The anticipation of pleasant soreness ached between your thighs the entire ride up the elevator to his swanky Chicago penthouse. On your modest salary as a legal secretary, you could only dream about affording a place like the firm’s top litigator, but tonight you were more interested in the legend between his legs. You’d seen the outline of his massive cock pushed up against the front of his slacks as he swaggered through the office, snapping at interns, and he wasn’t even hard.

Bryan had a reputation: heartless toward coworkers, ruthless in court, and an absolute god in bed.

There would be no feelings, no phone call the next day, and that was OK. You didn’t want any. Being his latest conquest was a thrill, and if the rumors were true, well worth it.

The elevator door opened to a monstrosity of modern design straight out of Forbes, and the sound of shattering glass. Bryan stormed out ahead of you.

“DICKFACE, YOU ASSHOLE!”

Hungry meows erupted from another room, and you followed Bryan into a sparkling white kitchen. The shattered remains of a whiskey tumbler lay on the tile floor. On the granite counter above it sat a black cat with white markings on his lips and nose that looked… well, like a dick.

“Sorry. Usually, I’d lock him in the guestroom before company, but it’s been a long day. Didn’t have a chance to feed him. Did I, you little shit?” Bryan ruffled the cat’s fur between the ears.

Dickface purred and rubbed against Bryan’s fingers before meowing loudly and giving them an impatient bat with his paw.

“Alright, Jesus. Fucker.”

“I never took you for a pet person,” you marveled, a fond smile rounding your cheeks.

“I’m not.”

You offered to clean up the glass while Bryan opened a can of boutique-brand grain-free cat food, then topped it with raw salmon from the refrigerator and a powdered supplement for dental health. He explained that he was such an infamous dick at STR Laurie that when he was promoted to head of litigation, some colleagues gave him the cat as a joke.

“A live animal? As a joke?”

“Wasn’t even funny. Poor guy was hunkered in the back of a carry-case, scared shitless.”

“Did you tell them you wanted a cat?” You tried to find some reason this wasn’t as horrible as it sounded, but Bryan rolled his eyes at your naivety.

“I’m allergic.”

“What the fuck.”

Bryan let out a gruff breath of agreement. “They were going to dump him back at the shelter, so I kept him.” Before you got too many ideas about him being sensitive, he added with a smirk, “He’s got a dick on his face, I mean—it is kinda hilarious.”

***

Then there was the fireplace.

It wasn’t a real one, with earthy-smelling logs that had to be stoked to a blaze from kindling, but a modern installation encased in glass that roared to life at the touch of a button. Still, it had fake logs which crackled and glowed like the real thing, and it cast a romantic ring of heat and flickering light into the living room.

This should have been where the fucking began, and Bryan didn’t waste any time laying you back on the couch, softly growling filthy promises in your ear. He asked about your boundaries, fantasies, protection, and safewords with such clarity and confidence, you could see how many men and women had been in his bed before, drawn by the raw sexual fire burning in his eyes.

His voice could be so much softer than you ever imagined from the way he barked and raged at work—soft, low, and warm against your skin, even as he asked questions like, “What about degrading language? Would you like me to call you a slut?” The beard tickled as he kissed you the first time, tongue working slowly at the seam of your lips while his hands slid up your sides. The faint smokiness of scotch on his breath. His eyes were nearly closed beneath lids heavy with lust, and up close, they were a beautiful, bright green like jade sculptures, not brown or blue as you once thought.

But as he was running through all those preliminary details, four black paws padded into the room and jumped onto your lap. As unwelcome as it was while you were getting aroused, you couldn’t help but grin and pet the kitty, who promptly curled up and began rumbling with quiet, continuous purrs.

Bryan released your earlobe from his teeth and stared at the wrong kind of pussy between your legs.

A bit of a mood killer.

“He never does this,” Bryan said. Oddly, it wasn’t apologetic or exasperated, but with genuine wonder. It made your cheeks heat, learning that Bryan had this soft spot for his cat and that it didn’t usually like strangers.

“It’s probably the fire. Cats love napping where it’s warm.”

“Yeah. Maybe.”

You didn’t have the heart to move a sleeping cat, so Bryan turned on the flatscreen above the fireplace until Dickface decided to move.

***

And finally, that brought you here. The couch.

It was dark leather, masculine, and in keeping with the penthouse’s sharp lines and minimalist monochrome color scheme. Fluffy grey throw pillows added a touch of comfort, and it was upon one of those that Bryan Kneef’s head lay, snoring.

Barely ten minutes had gone by before his drooping eyelids fell shut completely in the cozy warmth, and the effect of his long day made itself clear.

Outside the panoramic windows, the Chicago skyline stood in black geometric shapes against a dark blue sky, a sea of glowing yellow windows making the shapes swirl with light like embers from a hundred million campfires. It was a disappointment to be sitting here watching the view while he slept, never having seen the dick that satisfied a thousand partners—no exquisite soreness, no claiming bites or blossoming bruises. But he was… surprisingly cute.

Ironically, if you had fucked tonight, Bryan would have called you a cab and coldly insisted he didn’t cuddle. But as you watched his chest rise and fall peacefully (save for the occasional interruption by an inelegant snort), you figured you ought to at least get something out of this stand, if it was only going to be one night.

Dickface kneaded his paws on your thigh, tiny sharp claws pricking through your clothing, before finally stretching and jumping to the floor. He would be back to curl up on top of both of you before morning. You laid down next to Bryan, tucking your face against his chest, his bearded chin over your head. He smelled mesmerizing—a natural muskiness blending with his clean, sensual cologne—and his solid body gave off waves of heat matching the fire at your back. It would have been nice to fuck him, but he made a comfortable pillow, too.

He shifted in his sleep but did not wake up, wrapping a muscular arm around your waist.

• ● • ━━━━━─ ••●•• ─━━━━━ • ● •

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