#brant x you

[gifimay]

16+ only

NSWF brant idea's/headcannon's

feel free to use these(and I actively encourage u to do so fanfic writers)

fem reader but can be imagined as male reader

tying up brant and pleasuring yourself in front of him or sucking his dick until he finally snaps, breaks through the ropes and either eats you out mercilessly or goes to pound town until you can't walk. (I slightly stole this idea from marzia98 on Ao3 from there fic Tides of Desire)

Being insecure so brant decides to tie you up with gold ropes he found on his adventures, through you on his piles of treasure as if your one of them, and then fuck you in front of a mirror. either not letting you cum(or not letting you stop cumming) until you admit just how perfect and beautiful you are.

my man brant would be so into roleplay, whats that? you've always wanted to be a princess? well guess what he's the pirate who kidnapped you, with the obvious goal of 'deflowering' you. Mermaid roleplay, siren roleplay, officer-criminal roleplay. all of it.

slight Exhibitionism kink(like only if he truly knows no one will find you guys, especially children) just the thought of it, not actually wanting it to happen.

shibari? likes it on you but will let you harness up his chest.

speaking of chest, can and will get revenge on you for always ogling and touching his. you'll definitely get your chest massaged and tortured as revenge.

despite all of this, I know damn well brant will always ask for consent, has a safe word, and will stop when you need him too. My man is a woman respecter.

and thats all i have.

authors note:sorry if this is badly written, I never really ever write smut even slightly so I don't have experience making that kind of content but these ideas sneak up on you so i had to make this.

[akutasoda]

Hiii there! I see you write for Brant (wuwa) and we absolutely need more of that man!! Could you write some fluff headcannons for a slightly drunk Brant and gn!reader or whatever you feel up to, anything is good! Thank you in advance and have a great day!! 😇

slightly merry

synopsis - how is he when he's had a bit to drink

includes - brant

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, small implications of alcohol consumption (on brant's behalf), wc - 314

↪it really wasn't a secret by now that brant had a fondness for drinking - even going as far as having a secret stash that only you and roccia were aware of

↪most noticeably he could get a bit out of control mainly during some form of celebration or after a successful performance

↪nevertheless, brant could be quite the clingy drunk and you were most often the recipient of those consequences. not that you particularly minded seeing as he was still rather behaved.

↪he'd constantly want to have his arm wrapped around you in some shape or form, whether it be interlocked with your arm or simply his arm around your waist. your personal space became his one way or another.

↪his usual confident and eccentric demeanor only increased tenfold when he'd had a bit to drink. brant was always the one to make meaningless and insignificant toasts, garnering most of the attention in a flamboyant way.

↪but with you around, he was much more content to sit by your side and have his attention solely focused on you and only you. sure he was still a bit loud and everyone could probably hear your conversation but he couldn't care less about that.

↪although, quite naturally, you did end up being the one responsible keeping an eye on brant when he had a bit to drink. fortunately for you, he was still somewhat mindful about that and never made it a difficult task for you - especially as he enjoyed clinging to you the entire time.

[albedov]

i cant get brant's silly idle animation out of my head... him and his stupid orange...

brant who would peel oranges for you no questions asked.

but he wouldn't stop there, doing the bare minimum was not his speciality and it certainly wouldn't be for you - he has always been someone who would go above and beyond.

so if you ever asked him to peel an orange for you, he's going to do that and more. not only would he peel the orange, but brant would peel multiple - even if you didn't want all of it, he was a fan of them as well. each of which would be precisely cut into identical pieces, even removing the pith if you asked him too.

and brant certainly wouldn't skimp out of delivering it to you either. he's going as far as delivering to you on a plate with a small bow as he holds it out for you to take - the whole time, a bright small is plastered on his face.

and he'd cherish the time eating the oranges together with you just as much as he did peeling them for you - although you would have to admit that watching brant throwing the slices up in the air and trying to catch them in his mouth was more endearing than seeing him go to the lengths he went to for such a simple task in the beginning.

to brant, there was nothing he wouldn't do if you asked it of him. you were his partner and that meant that he'd never settle with doing the bare minimum for you.

[lilbabypanda-blog2]

A Fool’s Devotion

Brant x (fem) reader

If there was one thing everyone in the Troupe of Fools could agree on, it was this: Brant was absolutely, hopelessly in love.

It wasn’t a quiet sort of love, either. It was loud, dramatic, and unmistakably Brant.

From the way his eyes lit up whenever Y/N entered the room to the way he miraculously always found a reason to be near her, it was painfully obvious to everyone—except to Y/N herself.

At first, the crew found it amusing. Then, it became routine. And now? Now it was downright agonizing to witness.

Exhibit A: The Grand Gesture

It started during one of their rehearsals. The Troupe was preparing a new performance, and Brant, ever the star, was demonstrating a particularly daring sword routine—one that involved acrobatics, expertly timed pyrotechnics, and an absurd amount of flair.

"Observe!" Brant declared, flipping his Fusion Sword between his hands. "A display of passion! A tale of devotion! The perfect act to win the heart of—"

He froze.

Everyone waited.

Y/N tilted her head, confused. "Win the heart of who?"

Brant blinked. Then, in the most obvious and suspicious way possible, he dramatically twirled away and pointed at Andreas instead.

"Why, the audience, of course!" he recovered smoothly, flashing a dazzling grin. "What is a performance if not a heartfelt confession to those who witness it?"

Roccia, standing off to the side, let out a small sigh, shaking her head as she adjusted the props. Mosi covered his mouth to hide his smirk. Barton muttered something under his breath about secondhand embarrassment.

Meanwhile, Y/N simply nodded. "That makes sense."

It did not make sense.

Everyone groaned.

Exhibit B: The Unnecessary Rescues

Brant was protective of his crew, sure, but when it came to Y/N, he was downright ridiculous.

Take last week, for example.

The Troupe had been setting up their performance area in the hideout, moving heavy crates filled with props and stage pieces. Y/N, more than capable, had been carrying a wooden set piece when Brant suddenly appeared, flipping over a table with unnecessary flair to reach her.

"Fear not, fair Y/N!" he declared, taking the set piece from her arms with a flourish. "A delicate soul such as yours should never be burdened with such labor!"

Y/N blinked. "...Brant, I carry a sword for a living."

"Ah, yes, but lifting a weapon and lifting the burdens of life are two entirely different struggles!" He struck a dramatic pose, balancing the set piece on one hand like it was nothing. "Allow me to bear them for you!"

Y/N, still oblivious, merely shrugged. "Well, if you insist. Thanks, Captain!"

The rest of the crew, watching from a distance, exchanged looks of sheer disbelief.

"Does he realize she’s been carrying heavier stuff than that all week?" Barton muttered.

"Nope," Andreas replied, taking a sip of his drink.

"Should we tell her?"

Mosi snorted. "And ruin the show? Absolutely not."

Exhibit C: The ‘Totally Normal’ Compliments

Brant had never been shy about using flowery language, but his compliments to Y/N were starting to sound less like casual praise and more like wedding vows.

"Y/N, the way you wield your blade is a masterpiece, a performance of elegance and strength unparalleled!"

"Truly, there is no presence in this world that could rival yours—you are the very star that guides this humble captain’s way!"

"Your mere existence makes the air itself feel lighter, as though even gravity itself bows in your presence!"

"Thanks, Brant," Y/N would reply, completely unfazed. "That’s really nice of you to say."

Meanwhile, Riel—the newest member of the Troupe—had started keeping a tally of Brant’s more excessive declarations. "That’s the third one today," he whispered to Dionysia.

"You should’ve been here yesterday," she replied. "He compared her to a goddess descending from the heavens."

"And she still didn’t notice?"

"Not even a little."

Riel glanced over at Brant, who was now attempting (and failing) to act normal while Y/N adjusted the straps of her sword belt. The Captain’s gaze lingered on her just a second too long before he dramatically turned away, pretending to be deeply interested in adjusting his coat.

Riel shook his head. This is going to take forever.

Exhibit D: The Unwavering Attention

Brant could be in the middle of a sword fight, dodging fireballs, or escaping certain death—and he would still be able to pick out Y/N’s voice in a crowd.

"Brant, behind you!"

Instantly, he moved. Not because of the warning, but because it was her voice.

"Brant, are you listening?"

Always.

"Brant, do you need help?"

Only if she was the one offering it.

And yet… for all the times Y/N had caught his attention, she never seemed to realize why.

Even when his head snapped toward her the second she laughed.

Even when he always found a way to stand next to her during meetings.

Even when he unconsciously reached for her hand to steady her, only to pretend it was accidental.

And especially when his usual theatrics softened just the slightest bit whenever she was the one watching.

Everyone saw it.

Everyone knew.

Everyone except Y/N.

The Breaking Point

One day, after yet another painfully obvious display of Brant’s affection, Roccia—who rarely spoke unless necessary—finally set down her tools, took a deep breath, and turned to the rest of the Troupe.

"We need to do something."

There was a moment of silence.

Then, Mosi exhaled loudly. "Thank you."

"Yes," Andreas agreed. "For all our sanity, this needs to end."

Barton cracked his knuckles. "Do we drop hints?"

"Subtle ones?" Dionysia asked.

Riel sighed. "At this point? We might have to spell it out for her."

The crew exchanged glances, a silent agreement passing between them.

One way or another, they were going to make sure Y/N finally realized that Brant was head over heels for her.

Even if it meant forcing their dramatic captain to confess himself.

To Be Continued…?

____________

I'm gonna be honest I don't remember his crew, so it might not be accurate.

But please, I need more brant content 🥹

[sorinbds]

It's already going to be 12 at night and the only thing I can think about is Brant 😭😭😭and how I would sleep with you

Normally he always goes to sleep with you unless there is some celebration or it is the birthday of someone on the crew.

He usually wakes up early as he has to go wake up the other crew members to start the day.

On days when he gets drunk he becomes clingier and wakes up later than normal.

when they sleep he always has you in a hug that you can't free yourself from, everything gets worse when the baby literally climbs on top of you

[lizziebrantt]

I make things big, I make em small. But hey, that doesn’t mean I’ll take your shit.

[h3avyhound]

goodshore girlies just keep on winning

[wwefangirl69]

Omg Spotify is tryna KILL ME. Heard "True Love" by Tobias Jesso Jr. Not once but twice!! I am destroyed. I'm crying in the parking lot at work! I am literally gutted. Beautiful song, and all I see is Shoresy and Laura Mohr. God if they don't get together as a couple in S3, I'm pulling an Elvis and shooting my damn TV!!!

[team-mythic-beasts]

Team Mythic Beasts: Let’s Talk Designs!

Also Included: (Updated) Birthdays, Ages, MBTI, Heights

(Note: Special thanks to @levijonescc, creator of the Aveyond 4 x Hetalia mod, for inspiring this project; without you we may not be here today. Btw I suck at drawing humanoid characters so I used this base)

It took me almost seven years to finalize the boys’ designs, but here they are!

Besides the pictures, I’ve also invited them here to explain the thought process behind their outfits. They will go in order of color, so this time we’re starting off with… Jones!

❤️ The Wolf - Jones Fitzgerald

(Apr 25 ♉️ | 29 y/o | INTJ | 177cm / 5’9”)

It’s only fair that the best-looking guy in the bunch gets the first word… so why does Luke keep getting all the spotlight? I’m supposed to be the main character!

Anyways, hope you aren’t too scared from all the spikes and flame patterns that I wear. Intimidation is a huge factor in designing a villain outfit, and I take great pride in being called scary. The flames are for another reason too— I’m a fire mage, and those who cross me shall beware the heat.

The cape was a reward from a quest I took up long ago. I saved a village from a demonic wolf, and they gave me some of her fur to wear as a trophy. In a way, it’s a reminder not to let my beloved Hiro go down the same path as his mother… but I do look quite big with the cape, don’t you think?

Even without my armor, cape, and giant coat, I still look like I’m onto some villain-y business, with the vest and jewel… Wait, what do you mean “yeehaw,” Makoto?! I’m not a cowboy!

🧡 The Dragon - Ludovic Brant

(He forgot 😢 | 70+ y/o (physically 25) | ISTJ | 200cm / 6’6”)

… Hello there. I did not expect such a quick debut.

As you can likely tell from my hardened look, my story is about battling demons. I was promised greater progress by the others in Team Mythic Beasts, and they have been of great help in my quest.

I made my armor from various monsters that I have slain in battle, but the helmet, specifically, is from an a assassin sent by my former captor. It put up a tough fight, that’s for sure, but nothing beats the fury of a dragon.

Underneath my armor is a simple outfit I put together in Moriad, where I have lived as a refugee for quite a few decades now. I asked my dwarf neighbors if they could make me custom wear, but it was too much for them. Therefore, every piece is made by hand, by myself.

… Yes. That is all.

💛 The Lion - Mikkel Anderson

(Dec 5 ♐️ | 19 y/o | ISFJ | 183cm / 6’0”)

Evil beware, the Lion of Team Mythic Beasts is here!

When I was a young lad, I’d be carrying heavy stuff everywhere to build up strength for all this armor that I wear now. That means I have to eat a lot of food every day, too! But underneath all this steel, I’m just a humble little guy from the city outskirts.

Oh, this medal? I got it from Lord Kristan! He’s the legendary founder of my hometown, Alphica, and he’s been watching over me and my nan since I was born.

So… that should cover everything about my outfit. You can probably tell I’m not as flashy as my friends; they’ll have a lot more to talk about than I do, I’m sure!

💚 The Weasel - Arthur Blackwood

(Oct 23 ♏️ | 36 y/o | ESTJ | 175cm / 5’8”)

Ha ha ha ha ha!!! If trouble is what you’d expect at the sight of a witch like me, then you’d be right— but you’ve got to be a total numbskull to get on my bad side. My long, sharp nails aren’t the only things you should worry about.

Not a fan of heavy clothes, since potions is my specialty; a simple coat, protective armwear, and a ragged cape does the job for me. As for the bird skull on my shoulder, one of the Raven Lord’s “beloved children” decided it was a good idea to get in the way of my curses— (MAKOTO’S NOTE: THIS DID NOT HAPPEN.)

Purple and cyan? Meh. Black, green, and silver? Classic. No idea what the witchcraft school I went to was thinking when they designed our uniforms, but I’ve done a better job than they ever will. It’s a shame my brothers don’t think the same.

That’s all you need to hear from me. Now get lost before I turn you into a frog!

🩵 The Eagle - Finn Dentrad (né Teryekol)

(Aug 28 ♍️ | 24 y/o | INTP | 162cm / 5’3”)

Looks like my days as an adventurer are not over yet!

My outfit used to be a lot lighter. Shorts, summer jacket, loafers… they’re comfy, no doubt, but I needed something to reflect the things I’m actually good at— engineering and mechanics. So I decided to switch them out for some heavy duty wear.

Now, I’m fully covered up from the neck down, because building stuff, especially gadgets, isn’t really a safe activity. My coat is long enough for protection, but not too long as to get caught in the middle of moving gears. Yikes! Just thinking about that frightens me.

My eyes are just as important for my talent, so I’ve switched out my hat for a pair of goggles. Combine that with my new coat and waist pockets… don’t I look a lot more reliable now?

Oh, one more thing… I’ve had so many people tell me how heavy my backpack is. Is it really? The only stuff in there are bigger mechanical parts and my robot dog Hanatamago, that’s all…

💙 The Bear - Fra’ser Du’randt

(Jun 26 ♋️ | 39 y/o | ENFJ | 175cm / 5’8”)

*yawns* … Oh, hey there. Sorry, I was busy… looking into other people’s dreams.

How is that possible? Well, not long after I came to this world, the Lord of Dreams made me his assistant. He gave me the power to access the dreams of other individuals at any given time, whether I’m awake or in the process of dreaming. Dispelling nightmares is my job, as well as my specialty.

My Lord designed and created my entire outfit. Blue and purple are the colors of dreams in this world, so it’s only natural that he would choose such hues. The sleeves of my coat are styled just like his, and my base wear resembles the uniform I had at my last job. I do miss my friends back there, but I’m happy to be able to serve my Lord. He is truly a kind deity.

Of course, fighting night terrors is a dangerous job, so the cape and armbands serve as protection. My downwards moon earring also acts as a talisman. All in all, it warms my heart that my Lord had considered so much when he made me this costume.

💜 The Fox - Lucas Reynard

(May 6 ♉️ | 110 y/o (physically 20) | INFP | 178cm / 5’10”)

Oh wow, I’m finally last for once. You probably know me well enough by now, as I’m all over this blog as well as Makoto’s Instagram page, if that’s how you found us here.

Every single item you see on me is a gift. Most are from my sisters, but gods have asked of my favor as well. I have no idea what they saw in me, but… alright. Pretty cool, I guess. If you want to know from whom is which, do let me know. By the way, if you look very closely at my choker, it has my initials on it.

Somehow, training with my family had helped me grow a pair of wings, fox ears, and a tail. No, this doesn’t make my hearing any better, nor can I fly... These parts are made of mist, and depending on my mood or energy level, can sometimes appear translucent or not show up at all.

The face markings... I got them while learning how to shapeshift under the God of Colors. He told me that every shapeshifter, whether born with the talent or learned it later in life, has a unique mark, or a combination of them. It’s not evident in my main form, but when I turn into a fox, the canine facial structure reveals the full shape of my marks— four diamonds.

Oh, sorry, I spoke too much… Well, if you want to know more about our outfits, feel free to ask. For now, have this— our very own mascot collection, Team MiniB. It was my idea, by the way.

[whore-ibly-hot]

Yan!Husbands Boss x Married! Reader

"Just Another Day at The Office."

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Dub-con, misogyny, name calling, nude photos, coercion, dubcon touching, fem genitalia for reader, mentions of divorce, general perversion, praise, clit play, cheating, readers husband is a scumbag.

(AN: Requested by an Anon early today, and it made me feral.)

Tick... tick... tick... the sound of an office clock rings in your ears, the only sound louder is your heart, pounding in your ribcage. The clock was awfully loud, though you had never noticed it before, when you were coming to bring your husband a warm, home-cooked meal. Maybe then you didn't notice it because you weren't fearing for your future.

Morgan & Cole, the investment firm your husband had been working for for years had been doing better than ever, and in turn, so had your husband. Promotions, expensive raises, and more had been sent his way. The house was even being repainted. All that begs the question, how had you found yourself in this situation.

It was a few nights ago when your husband informed you of the deal he had made with his boss. Morgan, the co-owner of the company, had his sights set on you, apparently. At a holiday party, he approached your husband with an offer, an offer to get a night with you in exchange for another fat raise. You had always known your husband hadn't been the most loving, but you had never imagined his greed could get to this. The worst part was how casual the deal he described was. Approaching a man at an office party and asking to sleep with his life like you were discussing sports frightened you. You had only met Morgan once or twice, and while he seemed charming, him doing something like this made you very much doubt he was in actuality.

You are snapped out of your thoughts by the sound of a door opening. Morgan steps out of his office, fidgeting with his smart-watch when he looks up and sees your meek form in the office lobby. His brow furrows.

"Oh, Mrs. Peters, I hadn't expected you to met me here. I had intended to come pick you up. How long have you been here?" He asks. You gulp. "Not long, just ten or so minutes." You say, trying to hold eye contact. He sighs and shakes his head. "Well, I wish you would have knocked on my office door, I feel awful having left you out here alone. Come, we can head back into my office and chat." His voice is so soothing, and in any other situation it would have been nice. You enter his office, and he closes the door behind him, before sitting at his desk. You take the chair in front of it.

"So, I assume your husband-" His teeth grind as he says this. "Is assume he has gone over what this is about." You nod. "He did... and... and I don't know if I can do this. I don't know you at all, and I'm a married woman." You whimper. Tears begin to slip down your cheeks, and Morgan sighs heavily. He comes around to lean back against the front of the desk, one hand supporting him while the other touches your cheek.

"I know this must be scary, I understand that. But I'm gonna solve both of those problems right now." He kneels down so your eyes meet his. "First, you worry you don't know me. Let me fix that. My name is Morgan Brant, I am thirty-two, and I live in a loft down on 37th. I like charcuterie and making my own organic lattes. I work out everyday, and enjoy walking through the city. I have both of my parents, Ruth and John, and they live in the city as well. Anything else you'd like to know?" You're too stunned and still panicked to respond, so you just shake your head. "Okay, okay. Good." He murmurs. A hand strokes your hair softly, as if trying to soothe a wild animal. To your shock, for a man who basically paid for a co-workers wife to prostitute herself, he does seem genuinely upset at your fear. His eyes are filled with a sorrow, and he chews his bottom lip nervously. He looks down for a moment.

"Mrs. Peters, your second concern, about being a married woman, is very respectable. I appreciate that you respect the sanctity of marriage so much. I think your loyalty and love for your husband is beautiful." He pauses, and gently grips your chin so you look him in the eyes. "But... I worry that love and loyalty may not be returned. Mrs. Peters, I need you to promise me you will listen to what I am about to tell you." You gulp, his suddenly serious, yet still soft, tone worries you.

He stands, walking to the back of his desk and opening a drawer, grabbing a manila envelope before sitting down at his chair again. He pushes the envelope towards you, folding his hand together and sitting up. He looks as those this odd exchange is yet another business deal, as he sits like a man prepared to do whatever it takes to seal a deal. A real businessman. Your hand trembles as it opens the envelope. Your heart stops.

Inside, your husband can be seen in several photos, from many different angles. Some looked ripped from security footage, others appear to be taken at a distance. However, they all contain the same subject. Your husband, locking lips with various women, every photo a different one. Your hand covers your mouth as you let out a choked sob. "N-no... I mean, he was never warm to me, b-but..." Everything comes crashing down at once. All those nights you waited up for him when he was 'working late', all those warm meals you brought him at work, only to be brushed off so he could talk to his secretary. It all made sense.

"I can't believe this..." You squeak. Morgan shakes his head. "You can believe it, I know you can. He's never loved you, I've seen how he treats you. Rejecting your meals, ignoring you at office parties and work functions. My dear, he is actively sitting at home and preparing to count the bonus he received for pimping you out to me." Morgan exclaims, his shoulders tightening. You put your head in your hands. "I'm... what am I going to do?! I'll divorce him, but I'll have nothing. I, oh god." You cry. Morgan once again moves to try and comfort you. His broad arms wrap around your shoulders.

"I know, I know this is scary. You've been through a lot tonight, your entire marriage even. But it's going to be okay." He cups your face. "I've been watching the two of you, you mostly." He hands you something. An empty tupperware container. "This is from his lunch yesterday. Every meal he rejected from you, I gladly took. I hadn't had the chance to eat something made so lovingly in a long time. They don't serve home-cooked meals like this at business conferences." He chuckles. "I saw how you would cling to him at those same parties he was ignoring you at, and wishing, praying you would cling to me like that." You look up, his confession is shocking. "Your husband... he is a greedy man, but he has pride. I knew I wouldn't even get a moment along with you unless there was something in it for him." He shakes his head. "Darling, I was just as disgusted as you were that he'd agree to that. As excited as I was, as I am for this moment with you, I was thanking whoever is out there that no other person at this office had tried something similar. I'm not some deviant, or criminal. I've had my fair share of sexual encounters, with prostitutes and escorts, but... I never felt anything. I need to feel something. I do with you." He says.

You shake your head. "You don't know me." You say. He shrugs. "You don't need to someone to love them, not at first. I hate to say this, but you didn't really know your husband, did you?" You sob again, and his sticks his hands out. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry darling, that was out of line. I just needed to prove a point. What I'm saying is, I don't just want one night of pleasure with you. I want you to be mine. If you left him, you wouldn't be lost or desolate, you would have me. I could give your everything he has and more. Money, a penthouse, and my love. Real love. You deserve someone who wants to care for you the way you cared for that man-child. I can do that." You sniffle. "It's all so soon, and I don't... I'm scared." You say again. "I know. I hadn't wanted to do this here. I had wanted to show you the pictures and confess early on, I had plans to pick you up and take you somewhere nice to eat. I know the last thing you want right now is a fresh new relationship, I understand. But just maybe, the idea of revenge tempts you?" He suggests. You look up, and bite your lip. "What are you suggesting?" You ask.

"He thinks he's better than you, and that you could never leave him, because you have no one else, nothing else. Why else do you think he assumes their will be no repercussions for a night like this? He's so confident that you would never leave him, never even think about another man, that he truly believes you will return to him after he's pimped you out." Morgan moves closer. "I won't lie, I'll enjoy this, but don't just do it for me. Do it for yourself. Give in, leave him for a man who will worship you, who can give you more. Get back at him, and be with me." You shake your head. "You... you paid him to pimp me out to you like this though?" You exclaim. He nods "I had to show you how little he cared for you, same with the investigators I hired to get those photos." He nods in the direction of the envelope, now dabbled with your tears. "Besides, I've already signed his termination papers, I don't hire men like that here. He isn't getting shit for doing this to you." He assures.

In a moment of weakness, you break. The betrayal of the evening, the hurt and the fear, the anger, it's all too much. You sink to your knees, and nod. "Alright, let's do it. Just... be gentle, go slow." He nods. "Oh, my sweet. I'll do whatever you ask." He captures your lips, pressing your back against the front of his desk as he kneels beside you. His lips are soft, and taste of bourbon and mint. He smells like cologne, but a good kind, something smokey. Not like the tacky expensive stink of your husband, now ex-husbands favorite cologne. His tongue prods at your lips, and shyly you part them, allowing his tongue to slip in and suck against yours. He groans, and you both pull away breathlessly. While you take a breath, he immediately latches onto your neck, placing quick, feverish kisses along your collarbone. You gasp at the feeling, shrinking in on yourself. He grins.

"Does it really feel that good, that's quite a reaction." He chuckles. You blush and look to the side. "It's- It's been a while." He frowns and tilts his head. "How long is awhile, darling?" He whispers. "A few months, maybe eight or so." He shakes his head. "My poor girl, doing all that for him and he still wouldn't please you." He grips your waist, his lips on the shell of your ear. "To be fair though, even if he did, he couldn't make you finish. He would please himself, not you. But I won't, baby. Tonight, is all about you." You can feel a thick hardon pressing against your knee.

"Tell you what, darling. Let me make you feel good, real quick. Something nice and easy for my sensitive girl. Then, I'l take you out. I'm not just going to have sex with you without wineing and dineing you. Then, I'll take you back to my place, I-I'll send for your stuff tomorrow, and if you want, we can go for round two." He coos, looking up at you with admiration and hope. "Won't my husband try to resist my stuff being taken?" You ask. He shakes his head. "He's not your husband. If he calls, I'll hang up. He sold you out, and if he gets pissy, I've go the best lawyers in the country at my disposal. I'm not letting you spend one more night under a roof with that man. You aren't Mrs. Peters anymore, you're Mrs. Brant. Now... let Mr. Brant make you feel good." Hands cradle your thighs, slipping the skirt of your sensible slip dress up over your knees. A hand paws at your panties, cupping your cunt as he sighs. "So warm, poor little thing hasn't been touched in months. I've only kissed your neck a little, and your soaked. Is it because I said I love you? Does your little cunt respond well to just being admired and appreciated? Oh, my darling." He slips your panties aside just a little, not wanting to ruin your outfit for dinner later. Fingers part your lips as a long digit strokes up, from your entrance to your clit. A finger prods the entrance, and you gulp at the throbbing heat you feel.

"Gentle, slow please." You murmur. He nods, placing a gentle kiss on your neck before slipping in his digit. His long, calloused fingers rub your neglected walls in all the right ways. "A-ah, Morgan..." You pant. "Good?" He asks. You nod, breathless already. He thrusts it in and out gently, before asking to add another digit. When you nod, he adds another, while his free hand circles your clit with his middle finger. Perhaps its from typing everyday, day in and day out, but he is skilled. Even when your husband has slept with you, you had never felt like this. A coil forms in your stomach as you pant and whimper.

"M-morgan." You moan. "Please, I need to-" You're cut off by him sharply curling his fingers, as they hit a spongy spot deep inside you. "Oh, god. Yes." You moan again. "Cum for me, darling, please. I want to hear you." Morgan's tone is suddenly more desperate ethan you had heard it all night. He's needy, begging to know that he is pleasing you in the way he so desires. "Say my name, would you? I just want to please you, I need to know it feels good." He begs. "Morgan, I'm gonna cum, shit-" Your walls begin to pulse, juices coating his fingers. As you moan, finishing your high, he kisses you feverishly, desperate for closeness.

When you pull away, panting as you come down from your orgasm, he licks your juices off his hands with a squelching noise, putting your panties back into place. He helps you to your feet, and hands your your purse. "Ready for dinner?" He asks. Tired and very hungry, you nod. "Just one more thing, and you don't have to do anything, I've dealt with this myself plenty but-" He looks down, the tent in his pants is still very prominent.

"May I handle that before we go out?"

[fellow-anime-weeb927]

Brant x reader thoughts

-you and him sharing food with each other

-him cuddling with you late at night (either one of you having a bad day)

-always listening to you talking about your day while nodding occasionally as he admires how cute you are

-brushing your hair behind your ear/fixing your bangs/ruffling your hair as he looks at you with a loving gaze @/////@

-daily naps after tiring missions

-little flirty comments here and there with confidence but immediately gets flustered if you turn the tables and do the same

(As mentioned in my earlier Brant x Reader post, kisses with him while covering you two with his pirate hat are a must -//3//-)

-a sucker for praise and physical touch like a puppy

-cuddles, hugs, kisses, sweet words, playful flirting and the list goes on~

-i wanna headcanon that his skin is sensitive ahem✨👀

-like cupping his face oh so lovingly can make his knees weak, simple brief touches on his skin can make him melt into a loveboy puddle❤️

-drawing random patterns on his chest while you guys cuddle can make his heartbeat go crazy

-his blushing face would be so cute! Soft eyes in awe at the sight of you in his arms and a lovestruck smile as you kiss over and over again •//////•

A/n: He screams ‘desperate lover boy’ energy to me who’s smitten with his partner i-😫✨❤️🛐

[gifimay]

brant headcannons pt2

brant who would call you princess and kiss your knuckles while on one knee

brant who would hold your chin with his hand before smirking and kissing you

brant who would drown you in butterfly kisses and laugh when you try to squirm away

brant who would convince a bunch of echos to pretend to kidnap you and take you to a surprise party he threw for you

brant who would wink at you all the time for no reason whatsoever

brant who would put a lot of effort into hygiene for you(pirates usually didn't have good hygiene due to not having the supplies for it) because he doesn't want to smell bad around you

brant who would either be the most confident flirty motherflipper ever or the awkwardest little guy around you. depends on the day(and how drunk he is)

brant who would do that cheesy thing where he says he can hold the whole world in his hands and cup your cheeks, claiming 'your his whole world'

brant who would absolutely dance with you, doing ball dances and twirls

brant who wouldn't mind if you didn't really want children, I actually think he'd prefer to adopt, he'd rather give a home to children already in this cruel world.

brant who would cling to you in his sleep and wouldn't let go no matter how much you try to get out of his hold

brant who would give you hickeys not because he's jealous but because he loves the artistry of them

and brant who would turn into a soft cuddly marshmallowy mess whenever he's jealous. pouting like a hurt puppy until you turn your attention back onto him

(and thats all I got for now. more brant hcs probably soon. god damn do him and female rover have a hold on my heart.

have a good day/night/morning/evening!)

[akutasoda]

Hiii can I request WuWa Brant x shy fem reader please?

the eccentric and the withdrawn

synopsis - brant with a shy s/o

includes - brant

warnings - fem!reader (no pronouns mentioned), fluff, slight crack, wc - 363

↪it was the classic scenario of two directly opposite people who happened to meet and get along against all differences between the two of you.

↪brant was always an eccentric person - it made sense for someone such as himself to be leading the troupe of fools. he was strong-headed, impulsive and even sometimes a bit witless.

↪whereas you were very much the opposite in terms of personality. your reservedness was reflective of your shy nature, preferring to keep to yourself and stay away from being the centre of attention.

↪fortunately, it was never impossible for opposites to get along and in some cases it worked better for a pair to be opposing of the other, which was why you and brant could be together.

↪the troupe of fools main aspect was their travelling performances, but you were always more of another observer which brant didn't mind in the slightest. he knew that you weren't the best cut out for that which was no problem.

↪some members of the troupe claimed that when brant knew you were there watching their performances, he actually became more “flashy” in a sense

↪and whether or not that was due to the fact that he wanted to try to impress you. or that when he knew you were watching, he felt more passionate about what he was performing.

↪brant was often “unrecognisable” when it was just the two of you. his usual outlandish nature melted away, and he took on a much more gentle demeanor.

↪it was his sign that he was cherishing his time with you, appreciating the smaller things with you. although you knew he still retained that erratic nature of his and showed it still, but that side of him was for you and you only.

↪additionally, if your shyness did include a bit of self-consciousness, brant was always there to knock those thoughts away. he would always assure you of the best and refused to let those thoughts to get to your head.

[alwayscorvus]

Your little things... - Part 2 - WuWa Characters

malereader x Brant/Calcharo/YangYang (separated), fluff;

just some things which you are in habit of doing to your partner and vice versa; Part 1;

Calcharo

Calcharo's hair is a long story. In many ways. You are mesmerized by them. And that's why you don't miss a chance to play with them in your spare time.

Yes, it's risky. It's dangerous. You have already come terrifyingly close to death many times.

But does that mean it's worth stopping? No, definitely not. This feeling is worth dying for.

Dip your hands into a coats of his hair. Run them from the very top to the very bottom. Feel how each strand pleasantly wash over and tickle your body.

And your movements are always flowing, because his hair in some magical way never gets tangled to any degree.

Oh dear. You can do it again and again and never stop.

And your favorite activity, despite everything, is doing Calcharo braids. Often one. Extremely long and thick. In which a few shorter sticking out strands fit nicely into a whole hairstyle. Which, when swung properly, is like a weapon. Capable of dealing good damage. Leaving red painful marks. Of course, Calcharo doesn't walk around in braids. Certainly not in public. He has his dignity. So he's quick to undo them. But when you are in privacy (previously in your hotel room, after in your secluded cabin) he lets himself wear them. Especially at night. It's quite a convenient option. And Calcharo knows it gives you a great joy…

Touching his hair for the first time wasn't easy. Depending on whether you did it during phase when Calcharo had a hidden crush on you or when he was keeping his emotions under control and showing off his lack of interest

In the first case, Calcharo looked at you as dear in the headliness. Truly frustrated. With a beautiful bright blush on his cheeks. For the first time in your life you saw something like that. And you probably got shot by cupid's arrow at that moment.

In the second situation… well… Calcharo also at first looked at you a little puzzled. However, his expression quickly turned murderous. You swallowed your saliva heavily. You finally understood what all his victims felt just before they died. In the blink of an eye, you felt a strong grip on your wrist, and your whole life flashed before your eyes.

Good thing Calcharo had a weak spot for you…

-Hey, Calcharo? Who is that creature that keeps showing up at your side to give you a high-five after the fight is over?

Man suddenly stopped in a half step and looked at you with suspicion.

But he could see right through you.

-Don't tell me that you are jealous.

You didn't respond. Your gaze fell to the ground.

Calcharo laughed loudly at that, not hiding his contempt.

-Oh Jué, you are. You really are.

Your sweetest moments are your kisses, which you always tenderly lay on his forehead.

Whether it is when you part your ways. Or when he returns exhausted after a hard mission, and you welcome him home with open arms. You assure him that everything is going to be fine. Wrapping his wounded body in love and endless warmth.

Calcharo can pretend he doesn't like it. He may shy away and pull out of your embrace. Act cold and tough. But in reality, when he slips away from crowds and gets left alone with his problems, he really needs someone's support.

And your kisses cause a pleasant tingling on his Tacet Mark.

Nothing gets on your nerves and troubles you more than Calcharo's constant overclocking. You don't care about what he does. You know it's his way of living. And before you stepped into this relationship you had to come to terms with how he is. Because if you started to like him the way he was at first, then why should he now change his whole self under your pressure.

You knew what you were getting into.

But dear Jué. Calcharo really could watch himself at least a little more.

After all, the state he's getting himself into could really threaten his life. And this isn't about another deep wound that can be patched up, given medicine and waited to heal. At some point, Calcharo might just lose himself.

And nothing would break your heart more than losing your loved one and watching him no longer be himself. Just a monster that has taken over his body.

That's why you always try to be there for him when he crosses the safe line. When you see him tremble. When his body is changing. When he loses touch with reality. When battle screams turns into whines of pain.

Whether it happens accidentally. At night when his emotions are cumulating. During a fight when he uses too much power. Or even when you are far away and medical team informs you of his critical condition. You show up immediately next to his side.

You start talking to him, firmly, profoundly. In order to break through the wall around him as efficiently as possible. When he begins to recognize you and you can already tell that he won't harm you, you grab him by shoulders. Calcharo flinches but you persistently try to make eye contact. Till you see that one small glimpse in the back of his black-filled eyes. A frightened, lost Calcharo seeking help and understanding in a world that has rejected him. Once you know he's there you hug him tightly, assuring him that everything will be okay. You squeeze and wait. Wait till your Calcharo comes back to you.

Witnesses don't understand why you don't get torn apart after first seconds of trying to contact someone in these phase of greatest rage. They can't understand how strong feelings can fight other equally powerful emotions. Nevertheless, they savor these moments and always make the same sound of relief.

Brant

Maybe at first glance Brant doesn't look like house husband material. But in reality… He is a definition of those words in his own unique way.

You know how in some cultures future housewives are taught how to peel fruit, specially decorate and serve them? Apparently, this can portray own skills and a talent for good housekeeping. But at the same time, it's a small and beautiful gesture to spoil your partner with.

Well, maybe in Brant's case his habits aren't a results of a family tradition. Still one can't underestimate their importance.

When you spend leisurely moments together on your ship. When wind blows your hair and sea air pleasantly teases your nostrils. When you sit cross-legged on a big wooden barrel chatting with the rest of a crew and Brant leans against a side.

There comes a time for a little snack!

Almost out of nowhere, like a rabbit out of a hat, Brant suddenly digs out a juicy tangerine, which was previously stored in his pocket. First he neatly peels it, and after that he proceeds to consume it. Paying no attention to the rest, only occasionally adding a few words from himself to a whole conversation. However, he couldn't forget about you. Every now and then, he scoops a better-looking piece onto a top of his freshly polished dagger and nonchalantly slides it towards you.

You don't even have to turn in his direction. With trust, you naturally open your mouth and catch the fruit, allowing yourself to be fed.

It is always important to Brant for his partner to be well cared for, full and satisfied. It's a small goal that he has set in the back of his mind, and he always feels itchy and frustrated when things turn out otherwise. Please let him take care of you-

It has been for long known how important to a ship's captain his hat is. It is his pride and glory. It not only symbolizes power and authority, but also status. It allows for the most important member to stand out from the rest of a crew. Its a proof of all the previous achievements and hard work that led to this position. It's just like a medal. Helps to add confidence, charisma. Solidify one's identity. It's definitely something that every captain, despite his utmost love, devotion and appreciation towards his crew, doesn't share. And that's not a subject for any discussion.

Well, unless it's about you.

It's not like you asked for it. You never even dared to suggest it.

You know what comes with the weight of wearing a captain's hat and how important a seemingly ordinary piece of clothing can be to its owners.

Nevertheless, one day, as you were quietly sitting on a ship's stern. Far from people's bustle. With your eyes closed and ears open for a rustling of moving containers in a distance, you suddenly felt a gentle weight on your head.

You carefully pushed your eyelids open and looked to the side. Behind your back a figure of your partner appeared. He stood proudly, with his hands resting on his hips and a smile wide from ear to ear.

-Looks good on you, my dear~

And that was just the beginning. From then on, when he is exhausted, goes for a break and you take a steering wheel, he passes his hat to you. Brant always puts it on by himself and delicately fixes it, while brushing back strands of your messy hair so hat lies in the best possible position. And highlights your best features.

Or when he wants to show you off, whether in front of a crew or newly arrived guests. He hands you his hat, throws his arm around your shoulders and, pushing out his chest, proclaims:

-That's my man~

It's extremely intimidating. But at the same time it causes a strange warmth inside.

After all, he may be a ruler of seas and oceans. But you are a ruler of his heart.

He's a little playful. Don't tell me he isn't. Brant can't resist teasing you at least a bit.

When you're out of reach, separated by a crew.

When he's standing on top, right behind a steering wheel, and you're watching him from below while helping clean up on deck.

When he's performing on stage, and you're sitting in a front row as his biggest admirer.

When he's sprawled out with his feet on a table and a glass of whiskey in his hand, negotiating a merchandise payment with some shady types. And you're leaning against walls of a bar, working as his best bodyguard.

When he dances in the night at the festival, in a blaze of colorful lights, right in the center, surrounded by heated bodies of strangers. And you closely mirror his actions, making sure that no other hand taints his skin.

He catches eye contact with you.

Keeping you in mind in every situation. Wanting to show his closeness even while being distant.

He lifts one corner of his mouth up and winks at you with amusement.

Your heart starts to beat faster, even if you respond with a snort and a look of pure pity. With this one simple gesture, Brant really proves that he has you completely wrapped around his finger.

YangYang

In the mornings, you get woken up by a strange tickling sensation around your nose. The itch lasts so long and is so persistent that you awaken with a loud sneeze. And with you, your girlfriend.

In the dark, not yet fully familiar with reality, you search for the cause of your unwanted wake-up call. In your field of vision appears a object, almost pulled straight out of a cartoon.

A small white feather.

Cute, fluffy. But not alone.

There was a whole bunch of them, and their source was your chosen one's luscious black hair.

You wince slightly at this sight. But Yangyang's panicked face immediately gets you melted. Your grimace turns into a smile, with which you hastily place a sweet kiss on her forehead.

-Go back to sleep, little one.

You move away and slowly reposition yourself to your previous pose, eager to regain as much as possible of remaining half an hour of your sleep.

-I'm-m- sorry!

Almost with tears in her eyes she hurriedly apologizes, turning in your direction. As if she knew from an experience that it was her fault.

However, you calm her down instantly, almost cracking up laughing at the whole situation. Without a second thought, you lock her in a tight hug and snuggle her head into your chest as firmly as possible.

Your friends often find you in one particular position.

Yangyang sitting comfortably on her bent knees and you spread out with your head on her thighs.

Smiling, daydreaming, completely carefree.

Yangyang is lovingly brushing through your hair while massaging your temples, that are sore from an overload of thoughts.

In her soft voice, she whispers sweet nothing into your ear.

Assuring you that everything will be fine. That you have nothing to worry about. That you are the best. Strong, smart, funny. That you can handle anything.

She appreciates you and successively builds your confidence.

Such moments happen not only when you are waiting for someone in the city, relaxing on a couch in your apartment or spending an evening in camp, at a rest stop during another of your longer missions. Many times these situations occurs on the wide grasslands of Huanglong. Where you go on picnics as part of your shared dates. Warm rays of sunshine rubbing your faces, pleasant blows of wind carrying scent of wildflowers and wisps of mature grain roughly tickling your bodies.

Fountains. Cursed places. You always avoid them with a wide berth. Or at least try, even if with poor results.

Just joking, you only pretend to do so. In fact, what happens when you approach them really melts your heart away. Because yes, in the end you always stop by them. One little person doesn't let you get past them.

-Oh look! A fountain!

Overexcited Yangyang jumps up on a spot, hurriedly grabs your hand and runs towards a monumental stone decoration.

-Do you have a coin? -she asks even more thrilled, turns towards you and looks with an awaiting gaze.

Her tone evidently rushes you.

Amused, with a laugh and head that shakes from side to side with a pity, you reach into your pocket digging for a golden trinket.

-Faster faster! - Yangyang grabs you by a forearm and pulls.

She always acts as if this pile of stones, that joyfully splashes aruond with water, were about to escape you.

Truly adorable.

You finally reach your goal and hand her a coin, from the change of recent purchases, which you try to stockpile for such occasions.

Overjoyed, Yangyang grasps the small treasure with her fingers of both hands. Tilts her head down slightly, brings the shiny little thing to her forehead and makes a wish in a whisper.

Then with a sweeping motion, she tosses a penny and watches as it dives to the bottom of a fountain with a cheerful plop, joining the rest of its family, from all corners of world.

Yanyang intertwines her hands with you again. She smiles pleased and truly satisfied with herself.

And what does she wish for? Well, there is only one thing in the world that she really cares about. For you to be healthy and for your relationship to continue like this without any interruption. In happiness and unity. Nothing has to change, because it's already perfect.

not sure if you know but yesterday this profile had its first year anniversary~

2024 means:

10 wuwa posts

7 hsr posts

2 genshin posts

let's hope for the better! in forecast for an upcoming week: massive jiyan rainfalls

[lilbabypanda-blog2]

Brant x (fem) reader

Just told my sleeping husband I lost two lbs, to which he replied, with his eyes still closed, "I'll help you find them. We'll look later"

《Please don't steal or repost》

The ship rocked gently with the ocean’s rhythm, a cool breeze slipping through the slightly open window of Brant’s cabin. The world outside was quiet, save for the distant sound of waves against the hull. The usual lively chaos of the Troupe of Fools had long since died down, leaving only the peaceful stillness of the late night.

Y/N lay curled up under the blankets, warm and comfortable, staring at the ceiling. Brant was beside her, already fast asleep, his chest rising and falling in an easy rhythm.

She smiled to herself before shifting slightly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I lost two pounds today.”

Brant stirred beside her, but his eyes remained closed. For a moment, she thought he hadn’t heard her at all.

Then, in a voice thick with sleep, he murmured, “I’ll help you find them.” He turned his head slightly toward her, still very much unconscious. “We’ll look later.”

Y/N blinked.

Then clamped a hand over her mouth to stop the laugh that threatened to burst out.

Brant let out a soft sigh, shifting to get more comfortable, completely unaware of what he had just said.

She rolled onto her side, watching him with amusement. “Oh, will we?” she whispered.

Brant didn’t respond—he was already slipping deeper into sleep, a content expression settling on his face.

Y/N shook her head fondly. Absolutely ridiculous.

Snuggling closer, she let herself drift off, knowing that when morning came, Brant would have no recollection of his midnight promise—

But that wouldn’t stop her from bringing it up every chance she got.

[sorinbds]

Someone please write something about Phrolova and brant 😭😭😭

I beg you I need content about these 2 😭😭😭😭🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏if no one writes I will have to write about them but I don't like reading my own work

I'm going crazy, I'm starting to make delulu scenarios