MiMi ☆

and when you say you want it all i know you want it all baby, take it all from me . . ♡

[baroupurin]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ━╋ ⠀HiMANi. . .ᐟᅟ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ (MiMi) 20

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ she ╱ any ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀nsfw ┈ sfw work 　

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ dms/req r open .ᐟᅟ ♱ ྀི˖ ࣪𓈊

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀multi . . dark con . .

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ no dni / tws

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ more about me ⭒ i am always

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ down to make new moots .ᐟᅟ

[baroupurin]

also we hit 100 followers ?!?! WHATTT !! thank you so much i love you guys sm !! ♪(๑ᴖ◡ᴖ๑)♪ again, my requests are open pls feel free to send anything while i work on a few wips—ramble, rant, request… no complaints here ! you guys deserve to be spoiled rotten after all ! <3

[baroupurin]

this is old n i posted this on my priv on his bday but thinking about kunigami and how his ego was always doomed in a way because it's so rigid in terms of following fairness and morality.. (･_･; something that can only go so far in blue lock. sure he had insanely good physical stats but when you're paired with players who have the ability to balance both, you're not going to make progress. his desire to play and follow his internal moral code, to give everyone a chance because he believes so strongly in fairness holds him back from his individuality without him realizing it.

this is why this panel just always makes me realize that shidou was one of the few people to put that together as well. something i think he doesn’t get enough credit for. shidou is someone who would give something straight to you and it's for your own good. shidou's comment really raises a deeper question- can the guise of fairness prevent you from reaching your fullest potential? like apply what he is thinking to real life situations. shidou's comparison is certainly… one way to put it, but, it is literally just that. you're not proving your worth. you're dulling your own shine without realizing it. sometimes you need to be unfair to others in order to be fair for yourself. you can't hold fairness as a high virtue when in reality it's just a limitation.

literally always ruins my day because was the person kunigami became really a player fostering that growth and truly someone going through a genuine evolution or nothing more than just a product of a system? an experiment? was kunigami- a boy who just dreamed of playing soccer and someone who believed everybody deserved a chance, someone who spoke up and fought for those he loved, diminished for the sake of the selfishness of a man who wanted to level with his rival? sobbing EGO WHEN I CATCH YOU .. i fear that kunigami was a doomed character from the start- he traded one form of restriction for another and he's too far gone to turn back. sure, he's gotten better, but, at the same time i think that there had to be some way for him to embody the heroic ego that made him who he was and still become a really good player. like sure he's strong now but at the end of the day he's replaceable. there's nothing there anymore to make him stand out the way he once did. i’m so sad bye (◞‸◟)

[baroupurin]

━╋ cw : slight ooc barou , smut / fluff towards the end , fem!reader , size difference , body worship (f), breeding kink , cursing , blowjob mention , oral (m) receiving ..

barou shouei. the man put cleanliness above all else; it was practically etched in stone. that man lived, breathed, and demanded cleanliness and order. you wouldn’t dare catch the king without his bottle of sanitizer or his pack of lemon-scented quickle wipes stashed away somewhere in his bag, nor would it ever be unlikely that you’d catch anything out of place. it was a necessity to have order. to make sure everything was pristine. everything had its place. everything had to be pristine. it was almost a well-known fact that barou was a clean freak.

almost.

everyone has their imperfections. their exceptions. their biases. whether they admit it or not is irrelevant. barou shouei wouldn’t admit it if it killed him.

but there was something about you that just simply unraveled him. something that brought out the absolute worst in him.

there was something about the way your eyes physically flutter back every time he thrusts deep into your tight, soaking walls. the way your shaky fingers grip the once ironed sheets of his king-sized bed, the way you were littered with more bites and bruises than barou could keep track of. the way your hole seeped and wept full of his seed that it spills out when he pulls out of you; spilling down and onto his sheets— filthy. how he can’t help but shove and curl his thick fingers inside just to watch your flushed body flinch, to make you clench around his fingers like the greedy whore that you are. to keep your womb stuffed full of his seed.

it’s definitely something about the way rather heavy wooden frame scraping off its original position and slams into the wall with every merciless thrust that secretly strokes his ego. your nails raking down his sculpted back— the curvature of each muscle present while he grunts out your name in pure bliss in the crook of your neck, caging your much smaller body beneath his. there’s nothing else he relishes in more than the sight of your pretty tits bouncing with every brutal slam of his hips connecting back into you. the room already thick with heat, the heady, sinful noises of his heavy balls slapping against the sticky curve of your ass. barou’s never-ending stamina reducing you down to nothing but a babbling mess, struggling to keep up with the king, but you tried.

and fuck, he thought you never looked so good trying.

your glossy, swollen lips staining his already wet cock— his thick, heavy length hitting the back of your throat as you gag, fingers digging into his muscular thighs. the ring of cum around his thick base he can’t be bothered to clean up dribbling down your fingers to your forearms, making up for areas you can’t seem to reach. but you’re still so willing to please him. trying to take it all just for him. barou knows it’s wrong— it’s against everything he’s ever stood for— but watching the thick ropes of cum spill all over your flustered, fucked-out face made the traveling veins from his neck to his forehead throb with need. the way the thick spurts painted your flushed face so prettily, your lashes all wet with tears and lips slick with spit. it left him throbbing with need for more.

that’s why he’s got you bent over the dining table now, the food you had prepared long forgotten and cold as your boyfriend pounds into you relentlessly from behind to take out his frustrations from an earlier game that didn’t play out the way he had in mind. the plates clatter and shake with every snap of his hips, the creaking legs of the dark oak table scraping forward.

“yeah, there we go, baby. look at you, huh?” he grits out, voice slightly hoarse and low. “so fuckin’ tight for me.”

barou fucks you with reckless abandon, his jaw clenched tight with restraint. his veiny hands hold onto your soft tummy, pudge or not, his cock is bound to leave an impressionable outline, this man is huge. he presses firm against the slight bulge, making you moan out loud enough that you’re sure the neighbors could’ve heard. he groans at the delicious sight of you taking him so well. even if he had trouble shoving inch after inch into your throbbing walls at first.

the smell of sex, sweat and his musk tinged with his cologne ‘creed’ lingers in the air, making you clench around his cock even tighter than before, earning another low moan from him.

he keeps one hand palmed over your jaw, forcing you to keep your eyes on him through the mirrored display cabinet, his hulking frame overshadowing yours while he grips onto the fat of your hips with the other.

“see that? huh?” he pants out, hair sticking to his forehead as he leans forward, his broad chest pressing up against the sticky skin of your back, “gonna knock you up real good, baby. fill you up real nice and deep. that what you want?”

barou groans out in pure bliss, completely fucked out as he pounds into you from behind. he looks down at you, your pretty little body trembling in his grasp. he tries to be gentle with you. he really does. but you’re just so pretty like this.

“sho, please.. ple—ase, please, please, gonna—“

you’re nothing but a mess of chants and moans of barou’s name, drool dribbling down your chin as you feel your body grow weaker and give away with each thrust. he slides his hand down, palm sliding over your stomach and pressing his digits into the plush of your lower belly,

“look at you— fuckin’ gorgeous.” he mutters, almost to himself. “gonna fuck a baby into you by the time i’m finished. fill this cute little belly up.” he gives the flesh a gentle squeeze, ready to blow his load right then and there the way that it dips beneath his rough fingers, jiggling with every slam of his hips. he leans down to press open-mouthed, wet kisses along your shoulder as your orgasm crashes over you. you seize around him, twitching in his grip as the pinpricks of white gather in your vision, your heavy head bobs forward but barou’s quick to react. he guides it back against his shoulder so you don’t collapse face first into the table.

he slides his hand down to your clit, rubbing and stroking slowly circles against your sensitive bud as you ride out your climax, your overstimulated body thrashing in his firm hold.

“fuuuck, baby— just like that.” he grunts, rolling his hips into you before pulling them back and pistonning back into you, your body jolting forward as you let out a sharp yelp, barou slams himself in once, twice, then again— before he’s gone, completely lost in ecstasy as your sloppy cunt milks him dry. he spills himself inside of you with a hoarse growl, burying himself to the hilt.

your legs threaten to give out at any second, muscles tender and limp, but your boyfriend is quick to hold you against him with little effort. wrapping a thick forearm around your waist as he eases his softening cock out of your hole. the both of you groan— yours a broken whimper, his low and strained, the way his cum spills down from your spent cunt to your shaky inner thighs.

“shit…” he breathes out, again, more to himself than anything, staring down at the filthy mess he’s made of you. your slick smeared all over your stomach, the drooling, dumb expression over your fucked out face, globs of his cum trailing down your swollen folds and dripping onto the floor. he sharply inhales his next breath, his cock already twitching again from the sinful sight.

“c’mere, princess,” he murmurs, voice low and coarse as he gently coaxes you back gently into his arms. you’re pliant and wrecked, face still flushed, eyes barely half-open as you slump into his heaving chest. he reaches down and hooks one hand beneath your trembling thighs, scooping you up effortlessly like you weigh nothing. “let’s clean you up, yeah?”

barou carries you into the bathroom without another word, not even bothered by the trail he leaves behind. you’re his. his to hold. his responsibility to care and love for.

he sets you down at the edge of the tub, brushing your hair back from your face with fingers far gentler and softer than anyone would ever expect from the king. you blink up at him, dazed, offering a small bashful smile that makes something tight twist in adoration in his chest.

he reaches for a warm towel, already soaked and wrung out, and begins wiping you down with caution and care. he’s surprisingly meticulous, careful not to press too hard where you’re too sore, and pausing every so often to kiss at a bruise, a love bite, a spot of tender skin he’d grabbed too hard in the heat of the moment, mumbling a quick apology or praise for each mark he comes across. barou lingers over parts of your body you’ve always struggled to admire, rubbing slow circles as if trying to memorize the way fits perfectly within his touch, in a daze at almost how perfectly you fit in his undeserving hands. his touch slow and mesmerizing— practically worshipping your body with every touch, trying to learn every square inch of skin by heart. you’ve never felt so beautiful.

“you still with me?” he mutters, kneeling down in front of you, his big hands spreading across your thighs to keep you steady. barou glances up, catching the small nod you manage to give him— his shoulders relaxing.

you hum quietly as your hand reaches up to thread into his messy hair. his loving gaze snaps up to yours, molten with something unspoken. something loving and soft.

“you feel good?” he asks, quieter this time, his voice soft as his touches.

you nod again, voice still shaky but sure, “yeah. better now.”

barou slides his hands up to cup your jaw, stroking your cheekbones before he presses a fleeting kiss on your forehead.

“good,” he murmurs. “i love you.”

and he says it like a promise. a vow he makes to you. like it’s etched into his very bones and soul. barou’s a man of his word after all. even if he has his weaknesses, it doesn’t matter too much if it’s you.

ᣟ៹ ❤︎៝ : hai guys .. looks away .. i am so sorry i disappeared pls forgive .. (╥﹏╥) classes n work have been kicking my ass sobs i have so many fic ideas i think it’s starting to drive me INSANE but i miss you guys smsmsm :( here is a real quick drabble because barou breeding kink is just sosooooo .. breeding kink n barou go hand in hand idk guys n he would literally worship the ground you walk on THAT IS A FACT !! i’m ovulating okay . i’m sorry for any mistakes in advance pls forgive i will try to look over tomorrow if anything !! i love you guys sm !! <3

[sprytesukii]

shidou, sae && oliver are all bitches who like to slide their hand down the front of your pants and play with your pubic hair IN PUBLIC . i’m Sick

[baroupurin]

i fear this has revived me just enough to inspire me write a fic about aiku or hell maybe even just the three of these down bad, absolutely pathetic losers playing with your pubic hair, running my nails down my face in absolute shambles and despair ..

[baroupurin]

━╋ cw : alcohol / smoking usage , cursing , slight ooc oliver aiku ..

it was four in the morning— the hour that was caught somewhere in the blur of yesterday and today. for u20’s captain, sleep was a lost cause. aiku’s bones were achy from the twelve hour flight from the tranquil city of osaka where he spent a few restful days with some of his teammates to the bustling streets of new york to prepare for an upcoming game.

although, aiku wasn’t quite sure how he had ended up here. at some point sendou dragged him along with an eager teppei and niou to k-town after complaining nonstop about craving juicy slices of samgyeopsal and crispy pajeon. aiku swore that he thought the center forward would explode if they delayed his request to go a second longer.

so there they were, unloading their things at the hotel by eleven, crammed into an uber by twelve and out into the brightly lit streets of the busy city on the hunt for sendou’s kbbq restaurant by one.

finding the restaurant wasn’t the problem, the waiting line was. it didn’t take long for aiku to become restless; a little bored of waiting around for what felt like the same spot for hours at this point. he was sure he had better things to do then listen to sendou and teppei argue about which cut of meat was superior and niou complain about how naoya inoue’s free fight wasn’t up to par like it usually was. after forty long minutes, he called it quits, telling his teammates he would head back to this room because of the jet-lag, a bullshit excuse his teammates saw right through.

“what? you’re leaving? dude, you’re the only one here who speaks fluent english.” a mildly distressed niou hisses, holding onto aiku’s wrist as the chortles and snickers of teppei and sendou don’t go unnoticed.

“relax, just point at whatever you like. you know enough english to get you through an order.” aiku replies coolly, prying off niou’s hand with little effort before shoving his hands in his pockets, giving niou a crooked grin.

“yeah, it’s not that bad, niou,” sendou adds, his attention fixed on a waitress passing by as he shoots her a grin and a wink. “just don’t say anything stupid, the waitresses here are cute, you’d embarrass me.”

niou scoffed, eyebrow twitching in annoyance at the lack of concern from his teammates, “at least i’d be trying to speak english unlike you- wait, come on, aiku, just a few more minutes.” niou pleads, looking back at his captain.

aiku smirks, pulling a hand out of his pocket to clap over the male’s shoulder. “look, you’re gonna be fine, alright? worst case scenario? just nod, say ‘yes’ to everything, and hope for the best. it’s on sendou, anyway.”

“hey!” sendou cuts in, eyebrows furrowed in irritation.

“that’s terrible advice…” niou muttered.

“yeah, well, it works.” aiku called out over his shoulder, slipping in between the crowd of people in line as he walks towards the exit. “enjoy your meal!”

and with that, aiku disappeared out of sight into the chilly night, niou’s exasperated groan, sendou’s grumbles, and teppei’s laughter muffling out behind the closed glass doors.

it doesn’t take long for aiku to find for a bar— one nestled in between a korean tea and medicine shop and an obnoxiously lit karaoke lounge. he’s underage, sure, but hell, who’s going to question him?

he’s got his hands in his pockets when he walks inside the dimly lit bar, greeted by low indie music playing in the background while the heavy smell of smoke fills the air. thankfully it wasn’t crowded; a few people scattered here and there across the booths and barstools, lost in their own conversations.

he slides into an empty seat, ring-adorned knuckles tapping out a quiet rhythm along with the beat of the music against the heavy wood as he scopes the scene silently. a deep hum leaving his lips as he glances up at the bartender, flashing a smile charming enough to melt hearts before leaning in a little closer.

“whiskey sour’s fine, sweetheart.” he murmurs out smoothly, leaning forward against the table to pull out a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket. he’s brings one up to his stubbled lips, lights it with fluid motion, and exhales out through his nose, the smoke swirling lazily into the dim light.

“you know,” aiku calls out, a smug grin tugging at his lips, “if you’re going to keep staring, you might as well say something. thought it was rude to stare around here.”

he scratches idly at his stubbled jaw before tilting his head to the side to take a better look at his little observer. the grin settling into something in between cocky and confident, maybe a bit of both.

split-color eyes land onto your burning face almost immediately, just a second too late as your gaze drops back, suddenly invested to swirling the ice around in your cup.

cute.

“oh, come now, don’t be shy. i already caught you, didn’t i? i don’t bite.” aiku coaxes, nodding at the bartender in acknowledgment as he slides his glass around before taking a sip.

“i wasn’t— you… you play for japan, don’t you? i’ve seen you before…” you hesitate before correcting yourself in a rather hushed voice, “on tv, i mean. you play soccer.”

“oh?” aiku raises a brow, slightly intrigued by your response. “you a fan of soccer?”

“not really.. i only watch it here and there…” you admit with embarrassment, letting out a quiet breathy laugh, feeling a lot more self-conscious under the man’s stare.

aiku clicks his tongue, taking another slow gulp of the whiskey sour before turning his body towards you completely, “that’s a shame. would’ve liked to take you to a game or two.”

his heterochromatic eyes drinking in the sight of you with a lazy sort of interest, his head tilting to the side to pull your gaze back into his. he raises his cigarette up to his lips, taking another slow drag, the embers glowing faintly before he exhales.

it gives you an excuse to really get a better look at him. the dark blue sweater that clings to his body in all the right ways. clinging on to his torso just enough to see the light outline at the sculpted definition beneath. his broad shoulders leading down to the firm chest that rises and falls almost too easily with the steady rhythm of his breath. his sleeves have been pushed up just enough to expose his forearms, the muscles shifting from just the slightest movement, the veins on his arms trace down to his large hands, decorated with silver rings that catch upon the dim light perfectly. his jewelry sits just right on his skin— down to the cuban link chain resting upon his prominent collarbone to the chain swaying at his jeans with every shift. everything about the man seemed to work in perfect harmony.

lord have mercy. you just had to look away completely after taking in such a sight, shifting around in your seat in an attempt to regain your composure before glancing back over at the man over to your left. “you.. you, uh, got that one game is coming up, right? over at metlife.”

“ah, look at that. you do know your stuff.” aiku grins, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest as he leans in a little closer, clearly amused at your flustered state and refusing to waste the opportunity to take advantage of it. “alright then, what else do you know about our team? give it a shot.”

well, it wouldn’t exactly hurt to play along either. “well… i know that you guys have some game coming up with some team called blue lock. saw some advertisement for it a while back.” you point out, lifting your glass to your lips.

“oh yeah? not bad, not bad. what else?”

you tilt your head, feigning in deep thought before the words casually slip out, “that you’re too young to be in here— aren’t you 19?”

“i, uh… what?” aiku freezes up, the sheer look of shock and almost confusion at your statement had you fighting back laughter. there’s been a fair amount of times that aiku has froze up in his life; not once did he think someone he was potentially hitting on outing him in a bar would be one of them.

your lips twitched in amusement at the male’s face, gone was the lazy confidence that practically oozed out of the defender, what was left was a man who looked like he had just been hit by the red card. his back suddenly straightened out and drink placed back on the table with a soft clink.

oh, this was cute. too good even. “your team, you’re all under-“

“alright, wait, wait—“ he cuts in, looking around as if a bouncer magically appear out of nowhere. “let’s keep our voices down, yeah? you don’t need to announce that to the whole bar.”

the poor man looks at you with such a look of dejection that you can’t help it— you burst out laughing, any tension from earlier almost melting away. “sorry! i’m sorry!” you manage to laugh out, covering your mouth with your hand. “i swear, i didn’t mean to say that so loud.”

aiku lets out a breathy yet nervous laugh, running his hands through his hair as he shakes his head. “yeah, well, think it’s a little too late for that now. the damage has been done you know— actually, i think you owe me for that one.”

you raise a brow, “i do?”

“oh, absolutely.” he leans in again, chin rested on the palm of his hand as he gives you another lazy grin. “you like karaoke?”

before you can even protest, aiku’s ushering you out of the bar, covering the tab for both of you as he bids a quick ‘good night’ to the bartender. he juts his chin towards the karaoke lounge close by once you two head out.

“you know, i really don’t sing…” you mutter out, your voice trailing off, the words seeming to enter one ear and go out the other.

“that’s fine, that’s fine! give it a shot. your singing voice can’t be too bad,” he gives you a lazy grin, making sure to keep eye contact with you before dropping his voice low enough to make your stomach flip. “besides, i already like the way you sound.” his smile seems to stretch a little wider with knowing. your eyes flicker away, unable to keep contact after such a comment while you hold onto the strap of your bag a little tighter to ground yourself.

it isn’t long before you two are tucked inside of a dimly lit karaoke room, the swirling spotted lights of red, green, and blue dancing across the small space. aiku flips through the song library with the remote while you sit beside him, picking nervously at the peeling leather on the seat.

“what’re we feeling tonight? k-pop? no, hmm… oh, pop? ah, wait— maybe slow rock?”

“anything, really…”

“oh, come on,” he chuckles out, glancing back at you before leaning back into the seat. his weight dips the cushion, tilting you toward him subtly, his arm casually draped along the back of the leather seat— his hand brushing up against your shoulder before you even take a second to adjust. the smell of his cologne lingers and you swear sticks right onto your hair and skin. the light smell of smoke dulling your senses and leaving your heart a poor mess.

“here, how about this, i pick the genre, you choose the song?”

you swallow, trying to adjust yourself in the seat. “ye… yeah, alright, fine.”

“alright, how aboutttt…” he drags out, lifting the remote up as he scrolls through the various genres on the tv. the tabs of genres blur past before coming to a sudden halt— “soft rock.”

you watch as he scrolls past the songs titles; slow enough for you scan them before you make a choice.

“that one. do you know this song?” you point, glancing over at him warily.

aiku scrolls back one song, his gaze flickering over the title before nodding, “of course! solid song choice.” he hums out in content as he clicks on ‘just the way you are.’ “we’re in new york after all, i mean, you can’t go wrong with billy joel, right?” he laughs out before tossing the remote side and clapping his hands rubbing them in anticipation, “alright, time to sing!” he bends forward to reach for the two microphones on the wooden table that clink against the cold bottles of soju with a soft grunt.

you hesitate, a smile breaking forth from your face at his excitement despite your nerves, “really, i told you, i’m not any good at singing…”

“come on, i’ll sing with you.” he hands you one microphone before resting his elbows against his knees, glancing up at you with an unreadable expression. “hey, how about this— i tell you my name, you tell me yours. that should make this a little less of a daunting experience, yeah? and i’ll sing the first bit for you.”

it nearly knocks the still sir in the lungs at how effortlessly smooth the man is— how aiku basically found a way to pull your name out of you without making it seem like he was prying and that somehow… you were willing to give it to him.

when you gather enough courage to tell him your name, you notice for the first time that night the man doesn’t look you in the eyes. he just sits there and nods in thought, saying your name quietly— testing it under his breath as if he lets it sink in; savoring the way it rolls off his tongue. the he turns over to you and you swear everything you were a jittery mess over seems to dissipate into thin air when he replies softly, “yeah… i like that.”

aiku exhales through his nose, glancing over at the TV before grabbing the remote and pressing play. he rolls his shoulders, settling forward into a much more comfortable position before leaning into the mic, “alright then… i’m a man of my world, so… guess i’m up first.” his eyes flicker back towards the screen as soon as the first notes begin to play.

don’t go changing to try and please me

you never let me down before, mmm ..

out of everything you could’ve expected, this was definitely the last— the usual husky lilt in the captain’s voice fades away as soon as he sings into something practiced and rich. his tone was smooth… low— his experience with karaoke and singing in general was clear. the warmth of his voice wrapping around such gentle lyrics left you with bated breath, your tense muscles melting away into the couch as you just gaze at the man beside you in awe. the way his accent still lingered at the edges of the lyrics made your heart flutter even faster with each second passing by.

you swallow thickly.

fuck, he was good.

perfect even.

don’t imagine you're too familiar

and i don't see you anymore

aiku’s eyes flick towards you as you bring the mic up to your lips, licking them nervously before starting the next two lines, your heart practically pounding out of your ribcage; fingers wrapping tighter around the mic.

i would not leave you in times of trouble

we never could have come this far, mmm ..

the way he looks at you—steady, reassuring, as if he’s coaxing you into easing up—made it easier to let loose, for the words to come out more naturally; each second passing by helping to loosen up your nerves bit by bit.

i took the good times, i’ll take the bad times

your attention flickers back to aiku before you begin to shift around in the seat, the cool leather sticking to your clammy palm before you both instinctively to finish the line together, voices blending together in an unspoken reassurance.

i’ll take you just the way you are.

after a few more soju bottles and a couple more songs, you’ve managed to loosen up— a hell of a lot more. you’re no longer tucked away on the leather seat and singing in a hushed voice. but up and on your feet, swaying slightly to the beat as you feel the beat buzz through your ears and pulse through your wasted veins, singing away without a care.

it doesn’t take long for you start really, well, feeling it. feel everything around you— the buzz of alcohol burning down your throat and into your stomach; settling warmly inside of you. you’re oblivious to the shift in aiku who has been glued to his seat for the past hour, though. how his teasing and singing had died out at some point.

he was just… watching.

the usual lazy grin plastered on his face was gone. for the first time in forever, oliver aiku is stunned.

maybe it’s the way you look. how the dim, cheap lights flicker over your soft face and cast shadows that seem to perfect shadow your features. how your smile seems impossibly bright in such a dingy room. maybe it’s the way your laugh bubbles up every time you slur out a lyric or miss a beat, stumbling to catch up or correct yourself for messing up the lyrics.

aiku stopped his teasing a long time ago— in fact, he stopped singing too. he was watching. completely enchanted by you. the light flickers across your face when your eyes meet his and for a second his world stops dead in track. the cigarette burns a little lower in his hand, completely forgotten. the usual lazy smile faltering in its track. this felt different.

this wasn’t a feeling aiku had felt before. something inside him twists, deep inside— unwelcome and foreign. he drinks in the sight of you like he wants it to be permanently burned into his wasted brain. for once, aiku doesn’t want to charm you. he doesn’t want to poke fun or make you stumble over your words in flustered excitement over his actions.

no.

aiku wants to be here. with you.

he just quietly watches you. admiring you. he thinks he could honestly die right now a happy man with the smile you managed to give him. his heart hammering out of his chest. what was this? he wasn’t a light drinker— hell, he couldn’t have had that many bottles. the forgotten cigarette burns dangerously low between his shaky fingers, the ash threatening to tip over onto the floor. his whole world managed to somehow narrow down on just you; to the way you gaze over at him, blissfully unaware that you’ve managed to knock the wind out of him.

the song fades to an end, leaving a tense silence between you two. aiku opens his mouth, searching for the words that fail to come out. for once, he doesn’t have his usual smooth comeback, an easy quip, a flirtatious comment. his mouth slowly shuts again as he makes a poor attempt to clear his throat, his eyes still trained on you before opening his mouth again—

only to be interrupted by the sound of an alarm on your phone going off; piercing through the silence and startling you the both out of the trance you’d been left in before you immediately whip your heads down to look at your buzzing phone.

“fuck!” you gasp out, voice slightly hoarse from all the singing as you stumble forward to reach for your jacket. “it’s— it’s late, oh my god. oh.. oh my god, i have work.. i—“

“you got to go?” aiku asks softly, his voice laced with a hint of dejection and reluctance on letting you go already. he slowly runs his fingers through his hair as he presses the cigarette onto the ashtray before standing up and stretching out his long limbs. “here,” he grunts out, pulling out his phone from his back pocket. “i’ll book you an uber. i’d drop you back home myself if i could’ve. this is the least i can do.”

“no, no, you’ve already done so much for me already, i’ll book one myself, i insist.“ you begin to protest as you begin to pick up your bag and belongings, beating him to it as you pull out your phone to book the uber.

usually, aiku wouldn’t have stood for that. he would’ve playfully insisted— maybe through teasing you, snatching your phone away, or booking the ride faster in the end. aiku always won. he always had it his way, one way or another.

but this time, he’s still.

he just watches you, eyes never leaving your face as his hand falls to his side. all he could do was stand there in a daze, caught up at the way your eyebrows were furrowed in thought, the way you mumble out under your breath about the shitty internet while struggling to input your address. it wasn’t anything special, it was ordinary, yet— he can’t pull himself away.

after settling the bill, aiku holds out the door for you, ushering you out. the city life buzzed all around you both with laughter and car horns, distant conversations— creating a comforting atmosphere that’s wrapped around you both. he’s all ears when you begin to chat about the city’s landmarks, your weary voice still tinged with excitement despite the late hour. he wanted to keep you here. with him. just for a little longer. to listen to your voice, to watch the way you took a moment to pause to take a breath or to lick at your lips before continuing. he drinks in every detail selfishly, greedily consuming each action as if committing them to memory will somehow make them last longer.

it isn’t long before the uber arrives. he pulls open the car door before glancing back at him. his heart stops again, throat closing in itself as he gives you his usual smile, his eyes flickering down to every feature of your face. he grips the car handle a little tighter, unsure to close it or keep it open for just a second longer.

but then you speak first.

“this… this was fun. i, uh, i had great time tonight. thank you, aiku.”

you said his name. you said his name and he swears it’s never sounded prettier. he has to swallow down the lump against his throat before replying.

“yeah, me too.” he tilts his head to get a better look at you, the corner of his mouths twitching up. “try not to miss me too much. get home safe, yeah? night.”

his words are playful— effortless like always. yet, hiding something else behind them. his voice a little softer and lower, almost quieter, like a part of him almost hopes you will. you scoff, shaking your head, amused at how the man always managed to keep up his teasing until the very end. he steps back, shutting the door and watching the car slips off into the stream of headlights ahead. aiku stands still on the cracked curb, hands in his pockets as the wind cuts through his hair. it stings. sharp and sudden just like the realization that hits him like a ton of bricks later:

he doesn’t have your number.

his head dropping in defeat as he lets out a breathy laugh of total disbelief at how stupid it was. how someone like him had managed to stray away from something so simple. of all the ways this could’ve ended—

how the hell is he supposed to find you again?

ᣟ៹ ❤︎៝ : oh my gawd .. this took A LOT longer to post n for some reason i don’t like the way i wrote the ending ughh :[ BUT I MISSED YOU GUYS SMMM i am so sorry this took so long!! i genuinely thought i’d be able to finish this in a week bye omg i had billy joel, dean, n yoshii lovinson on repeat really tried to get into that aiku mindset. i hope i wrote him well .. kind of ooc just a little but still he’s sm more fun to write than i thought. i will get better trust!! but let me know what you guys think!! i have break next week so i should be more active! i have so many assignments to do though until then pls not excited .. Σ(-᷅_-᷄๑) but it’s okay everything will work out pls i hope you guys are doing well i love you all smsmsmsm <3 i hope you enjoyed this mess n i am so sorry again for the delay ..

[baroupurin]

haiiii guys i didn’t die i have been working on that aiku fic forever omg i did not expect it to be THIS LONG ?? but more aiku content for all you sweet angels so it’s okay !! (〃ω〃) but i just wanted to come here n ramble about this because the aiku brainrot is so bad i have his fav song call me by kazuya yoshii on repeat arghghhufhudhuffhuff i can’t explain how or why but it’s so attractive that this song is so… romantic and it’s got this undertone of yearning to it almost? like a desire to be remembered and reached out to… like why is it attractive to me that aiku loves that song. like it makes him hotter bye .. maybe it’s because of the way he acts is a complete contrast to such a sentimental song but guys mimi theory aiku is secretly THE biggest yearner and i know he said his type is someone who is easy to break up with but i genuinely believe that if the right person ever came along that man would be a lost puppy stringing after you with nothing but hearts in his eyes. he loves the chase enough as it is i KNOWWW that man would answer your calls in a split second and come over if you asked him to. he’d be the type to have his eyes on you even when you’re looking away. like he’d be in denial, acting all cool and like don’t give a gaf but he also doesn’t want to lose you. a situationship with this man would heal me and destroy me at the same time ugh he’s so romantic and annoying GODDD I WANNA KISS HIM (￣^￣)

[baroupurin]

okay guys.. i lied……. i just finished rewatching some clips of aiku and fell in love with that stupid man all over again i wanna kiss him n throw rocks at him he’s so pretty hufffhygufhuff .. we’re writing oliver aiku tonight pls i love him so badbdbddd

[baroupurin]

hey there can i just say for a fairly new blog your work is extremely well written and i love the way you write barou (my underrated glorious king) i cant wait to read more of your work! keep up the amazing work🥰

hiii !! oh my goshhshhshh i am smiling so hard rn i am shy n my heart is FULL THANK YOU MY DARLING ANON !! (≧◡≦) ♡ aaaa i could just cover you in all the hugs and kisses ever thank you thank you thank you !!! this means sm to me and really did make my day and motivate me to start and finish some wips i hopefully have in mind to post by the end of this weekend ! literally the BIGGEST compliment ever seeing that you love the way i write the one and only glorious king barou AAA it means a lot to see such a sweet comment ! writing is something i truly do cherish and i don’t think i’ll ever regret sharing my pieces with angels like you. this really did make my day pls i am so happy .. thank you again it means smsmsmsm ! (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)

[baroupurin]

new follower here! i'd love to see more relationship barou headcanons and perhaps your thoughts on jealous/possessive barou? hope any of this inspires you and cant wait to read more of your upcoming work🥰

ᣟ៹ ❤︎៝ : AAAA !! anon you are just the sweetest thank you for my first ever request / tell n the support !! i was so excited to see this omgomgomg (//∇//) i an working on barou bf hcs part 2 as i finish typing this up because you have sent me my first tell n you deserve it but for now i hope you enjoy the jealous barou content my love <3 omg he’s adorable pls who doesn’t love a possessive 6’2” self-proclaimed king football player ? ( ´∀｀)

divider creds : miudolli

━╋ cw : slight ooc barou , a little angsty , cursing . . .

barou isn’t the type to explode in jealousy. no, but when he does notice someone a little too comfortable around you for his liking… well, it’s evident that his mood shifts.

barou goes quiet— more than usual. muscular arms crossed over his heaving chest while the veins along his neck and temple bulge beneath the thin skin. the air around feels a lot more… heavier.

barou isn’t afraid to step in if he deems it necessary to. he moves with purpose— an arm casually snaking its way around your hips or his solid frame casually moving beside to you. he wastes no time at all answering for you if he needs to.

“ah? they’re busy. they can’t hang out later.” he says in a low voice, the classic raised brow paired with a nasty sneer.

“sho, i’m not that busy, i can still—“

“you are now.”

sometimes barou doesn’t need to say anything at all. or even walk over to you. all it takes is one good look. i mean, have you seen that man? no words or movement are necessary for the cold and calculating look the poor soul talking to you a little too long gets before they finally seem to get the hint and nervously excuse themselves.

“sho, really? that wasn’t necessary…” you huff out, tilting your head up to look up at your boyfriend.

“hah? what did i do?”

“you were just standing there like some crazed killer.”

“tch. what’s it matter? if they ran away that easily, they didn’t deserve the right to talk to you anyway.”

now, don’t even get the king started if it was one of his teammates getting a little too friendly with you. everyone’s in for hell during the next few hours of practice, especially the teammate who seemed to think that cozying up to you was a smart choice.

suddenly, barou’s defense and passes are sharper. shoulder-charging twice as hard into lorenzo and barking orders left and right at an already exhausted sendou.

he doesn’t answer to anyone and nobody dares to question him. well, maybe just an aloof aiku. he spares a glance at him before wiping the sweat off the side of his temple grunting out, “nothin’. just need to remind everyone the king runs this damn field.”

it’s even better for him when the player is on the opposing team. barou never, and i mean, never forgets anyone who flirted with you.

“see that donkey?” he mumbles out under his breath, forearm locking a squirming niko into place while he jerks his chin forward towards an opponent walking nearby.

“uh— yeah..?” the younger replies warily, giving up his futile struggle to escape the king’s iron grip (save that boy fr..).

“watch me crush him and destroy his dreams of playing ever again.”

and your boyfriend stays true to his word. the player’s goal is denied with ease and a merciless tackle from the king sends the ball right back to his team.

“ah.. barou-chan— wasn’t that.. a little too much…?”

“he should’ve focused on the game instead of what’s mine.”

barou spends a lot longer than usual cleaning up around the place too when he’s jealous. the kitchen counter was sparkling clean. you could see your reflection on the pearly white tub. hell, that stubborn stain on the oven is finally gone.

it doesn’t take long to find barou, hunched over, ferociously scrubbing over an imaginary spot on the floor. the veins nearly bulging out his arms as he holds onto the foamy brush tight while he grumbles to himself about how that asshole shouldn’t have smiled at you like that while you stifle back a laugh.

it never hurts to tease barou. after all, it’s adorable when he’s refusing to look you in eyes, soft lips formed into a pout or twitching involuntarily when you bring up the other’s name. he’s so tense and brooding— but underneath all that, the poor baby is soft and restless.

“aw, babyyy.. are you jealous?” you coo, reaching up to pinch at his cheek.

“hah? the hell would i need to be jealous for? don’t flatter yourself, i’m busy.” he turns away with a grumble, the tips of his ears tinged red.

“you’re going to have to do a better job at convincing me you weren’t glaring holes into aiku’s head for an hour and a half~”

“…mmph.”

when you two are alone barou is a pouty and slightly clingy mess. his arms wrapped tightly around your frame while he presses the softest of kisses on your neck. his jealousy manifests through touches over words, silently tracing shapes along your skin while his lips graze over the soft skin. his shoulders relaxing when you reassure him and press a kiss on his temple with a smile on your face.

barou respects your personal space. but sometimes if he’s feeling particularly confident or full of himself— usually after a match or practice that went exceptionally well for him— he isn’t afraid to put in just little more effort to remind everyone you’re his more openly.

he casually keeps his arm draped over your shoulder or his large hand over your thigh when he notices someone who just doesn’t seem to be getting the hint. he keeps his gaze locked on them, keeping you close to him. then, he leans down to kiss your cheek, the sudden act catching you completely off guard.

“what was that—“

“just wanted to kiss you. you’re mine after all.” he mutters, his voice low enough for your ears only, pushing back your hair as the faintest smile tugs on his lips for being able to love someone as perfect as you.

[baroupurin]

━╋ cw : slight ooc barou / niou , angsty but fluff at end for niou . . .

barou considers himself a man with patience— most of the time. he tries. he really does. he’s been practicing especially hard for you. barou also considers himself a realistic man— again, most of the time. what was he expecting? no, really, what exactly was he expecting when he had chosen to dorm with four other boys who seemed to believed that hygiene was a foreign concept? four boys whose spare time “bonding” was spent talking about their hook-ups with hot girls or debating how “glam” or “unglam” another team’s play was. and don’t even get him started on how they asserted their dominance through burping contests held almost every single day— how could a king end up with such misfortune?

of course he was the only one cleaning up after four boys who treated their dorms like nothing but a pigsty. sendou’s sweaty socks sprawled all over the floor after practice or a match when the laundry bin was not even three feet away, aiku’s spicy ramen packets still filled with powder littering the kitchen counter, niko’s skin care creams and manga abandoned on the bed and on the floor alike, and good god… was that… aryu’s strands of long hair all over the tub? it looked like something straight out of a horror movie. a plugged in hairdryer dangerously close to the sink— oh, he could gag… a man can only hold himself back for so long.

barou’s throat was nearly raw after yelling at everyone to tidy up after themselves at least a little before he’d start deep-cleaning the dorms for the day. it was a free day for everyone in the blue lock building which meant he’d finally have this dorm to himself. and he was going to spend it cleaning. that meant everyone had to leave. no exceptions. his head pounding so hard, so viciously, that he considered for a fleeting moment that strangling his teammates to death once they all came back from their day off and proceeding to bashing his head in after would be the smartest way out than dealing with another mess three seconds in after all his hard work.

oh, but there you are when he opens the dorm door after finally finishing up the last bit of cleaning for the day. the weariness racking his body disappearing while he leans against the door frame to look down at you, squeezing his broom tightly in what he firmly believes must be ‘cuteness aggression’ at the sight of your beaming, bright smile and your arms held out wide for a hug. and was that a basket of snacks for him in your hands? god, how could barou resist?

“hey, princess…” barou sighs out in a low voice, a small smile forming on his usually stoic face. a smile meant just for you.

without a second thought, almost as if it were second nature, barou props the broom against the wall before pulling you close to him. it must’ve been the longest hug he’d ever given you in your years together. not that you’d ever complain about that though. his tense, weary muscles relaxing as the smell of your shampoo dulls his senses. his eyes flutter shut while he presses gentle kisses on your shoulder, murmuring softly about how much he loved you and missed you.

he doesn’t waste any time at all to indulge in you, after all, he’d managed to finish cleaning up after ruthless animals, he was more than deserving of this— of you. barou keeps your warm body tucked in between his legs, back pressed against his chest with one hand on your waist, the other pushing back your hair to kiss at the nape of your neck while you tell him about his sisters that you’ve taken care of while he’s gone. how life is back at akita. how much you’ve missed him.

barou was taken aback when you suddenly pull away from him, a pang of disappointment hitting him before you’re telling him to move up. the mattress dipping from the weight of your knees as you crawl behind him, running your hands down the expanse of muscles as you pull him back a little.

“where are you going? come here, i wasn’t finished kis—”

“relax, sho. let me do your hair.” you giggle out, his eyebrows that were once furrowed suddenly washed away with a look of surprise.

barou melts in your arms seconds later, his worries dissolving while you tangle your nimble fingers through his soft hair. a groan leaving his lips while he shifts back comfortably, careful not to put so much weight against you. for someone who styled his hair with gel so often, it never failed to impress you just how soft and luscious it was. the red streaks— now a little dull from the constant washing still looked so good, you had to remind yourself to thank aiku some time for recommending it to your stubborn boyfriend in the first place.

“mm.. definitely needed this… thank you, baby..”

he groans out while you comb through the silky, smooth hair, the familiar scent of his shampoo and hair oil hitting your nostrils. barou was always adamant on using white musk oil after shampooing. it was his signature smell. it was the one step that really brought his routine together.

as your fingers glide through the lush strands, you marvel and coo at the softness, how long it seems to have gotten over the time he’s been gone. you let the strands cascade through your fingers while you appreciate just how his hair, usually disciplined and controlled like the man himself was on the field, was soft and loose— like this secret side of him. a secret side the king only gave you the privilege to see.

barou forgot about his stresses, about the grueling matches, the relentless practices he had, how the therapeutic hours he spent cleaning the dorm would be undone in half the time. around you, he didn’t have to worry about anything else. none of it mattered. you were always so good to him. so ready to love him and care for him. how could barou ask for more? the trust he had for you— the vulnerability to see him in such a relaxed state was for your eyes only. he wouldn’t have it any other way.

he’d lost. niou lost and all he felt was frustration. anger. disappointment. how could he have lost? his defense was outstanding. he’d sacrificed his usual hours at boxing practice to get it right. spent countless hours with aiku and darai to sharpen his skills. yet the hardest pill to swallow, the thing he couldn’t wrap his mind around was how could he have lost in front of you? his pretty baby. you were so proud of him. you’d given him the biggest kiss, cupping his face and telling him how well he’d play.

he looked up at the first half of the game and there you were. all dolled up in his jersey, showing off his name and number like a badge of honor, the brightest smile on your face. and all he could think about was how he could anticipate nagi’s next move and whether you’d prefer a wedding ring with vintage or modern style twist. his sweet angel in the front rows, best seat. and then he’d blinked, and before he knew it, he lost. and god. he was ashamed of himself.

he looked up while everyone lined up to bow at the end of the game to the crowd and noticed that your seat was empty. the weight of his loss only seemed to become heavier. niou had let not only his team down, but he had let you down too. it gnawed so mercilessly at him that while everyone clapped each other on the back and grumbled about dissecting the tactics used by the blue lock team to play better in the locker room, the usually boisterous and proud man stayed silent.

he stayed by the corner, slumped over a bench with heavy arms resting on his knees and a towel draped over his damp hair that covered the view of his face. the weight of everything slowly pressing down onto him at an unforgiving force; crushing him into place. he was ashamed to face anyone, least of all his damn self.

“hey, good defense back there, niou. you… you did good, alright?”

his captain’s gruff and unusually gentle voice breaking through the heavy air followed by a firm slap on his broad back that jolted him forward. niou grunted out a hollow ‘thanks’ in response.

it isn’t long before the chatter in the locker room dies out and empties. aiku was the last to leave, eyes never leaving niou as he looks back at his teammate with a sigh. he knew niou needed space. it was rare for the doberman to look so... defeated.

as the heavy door clicked into place and the footsteps faded off, niou steeped in the demeaning silence. the muffled drip of water from the shower heads blending in with the water droplets beading down his wet hair and hitting the tile floor. each rhythmic plop of water sounding heavier than the last. he swallow thickly, clenching his fists tightly until they were white, thumbs digging into the flesh of his palm.

he doesn’t lift his head when the door creaks opens again, assuming it’s most likely aiku back to coax him into grabbing a drink to swallow away all his sorrows or another one of his teammates who might’ve forgotten something in the locker room. it wasn’t until he heard it— his ears perked up at the familiar, light sound of footsteps. and when your voice cuts through the silence, his head shoots up, the towel on his head slipping off.

“kazuma? baby, what are you still doing here? i was in the back waiting for you to come out and— kazuma, you’re going to catch a cold, oh, your hair’s still wet and—“

he looks away; the shame twisting and pulling at his chest. how could he look you in the eyes after failing you with that sorry excuse of a performance? you must’ve been disappointed to call him yours, to wear his name on your back. you must’ve been embarrassed walking back to get to the locker rooms having to endure the pitying glances of everyone, you must’ve—

“kazuma, look at me.”

your voice is still soft as ever just firm and as tough as nails. it popped right through his bubble of self-loathing he’d grown comfortable suffocating in for the past hour. he knew better than to ignore you. he didn’t want to. even if he was disappointed in himself. he glances up at you with uneasy eyes, breaking contact to bend down to pick up the damp towel stalling for time to try to collect himself in some way before meeting your eyes again.

“i…”

niou starts, his mouth going dry as he swallows hard. trying his best to piece together what he so desperately wanted to say. niou sure as hell wasn’t a man who made excuses. he owned up to his shit. but, right now? right now, he was blanking out, hair uncomfortably soaked and slouched over like a loser trying to own up to something— a failure he never really expected in the first place in front of his lover.

“i’m sorry, baby. i don’t… you wore my jersey out there. proud as hell, cheerin’ for me and i couldn’t even give you a win. i just don’t understand… i worked ass off for this. and i still… i let everyone down, i…”

niou doesn’t know what else to say, his voice dying down again and fading off into the silence again. he drops his heavy head once more, damp hair falling forward and slipping off his shoulders. his heart shattering as his own words seemed to have hit him like a bullet. it was unforgiving and sharp, his body crumbling.

“kazuma, come here, my love…”

you start, voice as soft and gentle as ever as you slide over next to him, wrapping an arm around the side of his neck to guide his head down on your shoulder. you could care less if the damp strands of his thick hair soak into your jersey. you press a lingering kiss on the top of his head, one hand cradling his head as the other holds onto the back of his shirt in an attempt to ground him to get your words to come through.

“i don’t come to your games expecting a win. i come because i love you. how could i ever love you any less because of a score? you worked so hard and gave it your all— i saw that. and i’m so proud of you. i love you. i always will.”

he’s suddenly still; his trembling fists relaxing as your words begin to sink in. for a second his body does limp in your arms as he sighs out shakily. god, it was all he wanted to hear from you and more. you were here. you always were.

“i… i don’t deserve you, baby. you know that?”

his warbling voice is thick with emotion, the cracks of disbelief and insecurity not going unnoticed by your trained ears. he looks up at you before bringing a large hand up to cup your face.

“you’re still here. i made all these mistakes and you’re still here.”

he croaks out, his chest tightened as his words slow down as he struggles to process everything.

“of course i’m here. where else would i be? look at this hair, hm? you didn’t even comb it, your beard still looks good as ever though.”

you grumble out, running your fingers through his hair and lifting it up before letting it flop back down, running a thumb over his facial hair to try to ease the tension.

“hold on, let me find the dryer and your brush. stay here.”

and he does exactly that. niou sits there, glossy eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. all he could think about is what he did to deserve you. he just can’t bring himself to look away— lost in this little blessing that’s you. how all his aches and pains seemed to unravel the tight, thorny hold it had on his poor heart.

it doesn’t take long until you’re back with the dryer, brush, and his bottle of oil, running your fingers through his hair as you tend to drying it off as quickly as you can. with every manageable comb through with your fingers, niou finds himself coming alive; cracking open bit by bit. slowly starting to become himself a little more with each joke you two crack or kiss he steals from you. his heart growing softer, his weary body lighter.

niou eagerly leans into your touch as you begin to work the brush through his hair, you’re standing in between his legs, combing carefully through the knots and working your way up to his scalp as the slight waviness begins to set in his dark hair, soft and loose. you bring lips down to kiss the hair occasionally, basking in the warmth. he has one arm around your waist and the other beneath the curve of your ass, squeezing the supple flesh of the back of your thigh once in a while as he rests his cheek against your stomach.

you’re finished in no time, rubbing in the egyptian musk oil into his hair. the comfortable silence settling around you both. the rich, masculine smell of wood and amber filling the room. he basks in the warmth of your working hands while you scratch at his scalp, bunching up the curled ends of his hair in your hands before letting them go. the soft clicking sounds of your rings brushing together creates the perfect sound that reminds him of stars twinkling up in the night sky.

“there we go, handsome. you look so good, baby.”

your hands cupping his face once more as you bring your lips down to kiss his, he has his arms wrapped around little tighter around your body before he’s breaks away.

“i love you,” niou murmurs out against your lips.

“i love you. you’ll always be my man,” you reply out breathlessly, your heart swelling with nothing but affection and adoration.

“yeah? say it again.”

“god, you are just… my man. you’re my man.”

“again.”

“you’re my ma—“

you gasp out sharply, unable to finish your sentence he’s up on his feet with that mischievous glint dancing in his bright eyes and a smile you’d rather die now than live a hundred years without seeing. he throws you over his shoulder with ease and picks up his duffle bag with his free hand. niou ignores your laughter and pleas to put you down as he kicks open the locker room door, heading towards the parking lot to his car outside, striding like a man who had won the absolute world.

ᣟ៹ ❤︎៝ : happy valentine’s day weekend!! spent mine eating burritos n typing this up n yearning .. i hope you guys treated yourself n had fun!! you deserve it. <3 i barely see anything for barou as it is but niou work is BARREN .. i hope i reached some niou fans out there pls i love him he is underrated !! i love both of my long haired princesses sm and i just KNOW they are absolute suckers for you and when you comb their hair they just fall in love pls .. i am sorry for any spelling mistakes in advance these came out a lot longer than i had expected omgg .. also got my first ask !! i am so excited to start writing that n those reiner hcs :3

divider creds : miudolli

[baroupurin]

debating on writing a reiner ramble and then something for niou and barou for valentine’s day .. but pls don’t be shy to send requests or tells for any characters you like i luv them !! (*´∀｀*)

[baroupurin]

━╋ cw : smut , oral (m) receiving , slightly submissive (m) , cursing , fem reader . .

men who are DEVOTED munchers becoming a stuttering mess when you ask to give them head… they look at you like you just asked the most incredulous question in existence. you? give him head? right now? he’s so used to servicing you— the thought of you giving him head already had him shamefully twitching in his pants and dizzy.

“are you sure, my love? no, i mean, you don’t need to… i mean—”

poor baby can barely put a sentence together even before the touching has even happened. don’t get him wrong, it’s not that he doesn’t want it. he’s indulged— matter of fact, he’s stroked a few ones out at the thought of you sucking him off. on your knees, pretty glossy doe eyes looking up at him while you struggle to take all of him in your mouth. it’s just that he’s always been a little shy. too embarrassed to ask you. it’s pathetic— hilarious even that a burly, bulking man of his stature couldn’t bring himself to ask his darling little wife something so simple. he was devoted to you. the man worshipped you. he knew his purpose. it was clear as day in fact. to service and care for you. to follow you like the smitten fool he was. he knew that he was meant for nothing else the moment he had laid his eyes on you. he was yours.

your husband’s putty once you begin leaving behind the softest of kisses down his chest and trembling stomach. the smell of his skin and the hushed whimpers every once in a while leaving his pretty lips dulling your senses. you had to pull away to admire the sight— your hungry eyes drinking in the mesmerizing sight of your man. the contour of his prominent muscles; the number of ruthless hours he’d managed to put into training never failed to impress you. the tank he wore now bunched up and resting on the swell of his pecs; buds glossed over with drool while his chest heaved with every shuddering breath he took, and god, the trail of thick hair leading down to his veiny lower abdomen.

he’s practically a pathetic puddle of moans and drool while you attempt to push another inch of his twitching length down your throat minutes later, the tuft of hair on his abdomen tickling your nose as your mouth painfully stretches to take in his fat girth. your tousled hair not going unnoticed as he begins to comb it back, chivalrous as ever while he holds it back with one shaky hand, the other draped over his burning face.

“ah, hnng..! fuuuuck… just—just like that, pretty…”

he drools out, a fucked out mess of groans and praises just for you as he bucks his shaky hips into your mouth involuntarily, apologizing hastily at the sound of your gagging. but oh, how you could practically live off this rare sight. your panties soaking wet at the sight of your husband selfishly chasing his high. you suck in your tear stained cheeks, hallowing them out as his fat leaky tip hits the back of your throat. you were no better than him; a slobbering, gagging perverted mess as you begin to massage and stroke the base of his wet cock.

“gonna… oh— oh, god… don’t… please, baby, i’m gonna…”

he strains out, his hips twitching up as his head presses back against the arm of the couch, his bulging biceps flexing from the iron grip he has on your hair as he thrusts into your mouth once more. you pull away from his thick girth to catch your breath, eliciting a whine that you swore had you ascending. sticky gloss and spit trailing down his cock and connecting from your lips as you push his cock against his tense stomach to lick at the veiny underside. you allow the tip of your tongue to massage against a vein before leaving behind sloppy kisses at the thick shaft down to his twitching balls. he jolts forward in shock, heels digging into the plush surface of the couch. the veins straining underneath the thin skin of his large hands, almost like they were ready to burst with how tight he fingers were interlocked with the roots of your hair.

he can barely control himself, at this point mindlessly babbling on about how lucky he is to have you, how much he loves you, how close he is to cumming. you begin to massage the base of his sticky cock once more before sliding the wet shaft past your lips, slurping shamelessly as you begin to bob your head back up and down. it doesn’t take another second before he shoots his thick load right down your warm, wet cavern. riding out his orgasm as you massage and you pull your head up with a pop, gasping for air as he begins to wipe at your mouth, praising you for taking him so well. he definitely didn’t mind a bit of spoiling here and there. especially from you.

⟢ reiner, erwin, choso, nanami, sendou, niou, noel, tokimitsu, yukimiya, diluc, sanji, zack, aki, vash, gris, sanemi + your favs . . (〃ω〃)

ᣟ៹ ❤︎៝ : first smut sweats .. can you tell i’m a sucker for big men who turn into a whimpering mess for you i’m sorry for any spelling mistakes in advance… i’ll check later after class !! （＾ω＾）

[baroupurin]

━╋ cw : slightly ooc barou , fluff , tooth-rotting fluff actually . .

thinking about how barou is def a secret lover boy n total romantic at heart… he’d never miss the opportunity to kiss your knuckles out of the blue while you go about your day or let you braid his hair when you’re bored. he picks up on your interests quickly, always eager and ready to listen to them— even if he has not a single clue what you’re talking about. barou loves listening to all of the songs you play in his car, listening and watching as you tap your fingers or nod your head along to the beat from his peripheral vision, keeping them in mind and playing a few of them during football practice. he definitely has jewelry with your initials on them and there’s always a seat reserved just for you at his games, only the best view for his lover.

barou is a provider and protector at heart. anything you’d want, he would get it for you. silently placing a bag down on the dining table with the pastry you’ve been dying to try at 8 in the morning that he was able to pick up while he passed the bakery during his morning jog or that piece of clothing you glanced at for approximately .5 milliseconds. he loves spoiling you. that man is glued to your side whenever you’re out in public, he isn’t too big on pda but his hand is always resting on your waist or hip; massaging the supple skin beneath his calloused fingertips as he guides you around the marketplace. he loves leaning down whenever you have something to say to him or if you want to give him a kiss. he loves all of you. barou isn’t afraid of showing it too. feathery, gentle touches dancing along your every inch of your trembling body almost seamlessly. soft whispers of praise and appreciation that are only meant for your heart and ears when you two are alone.

barou’s a sucker for you. even if he won’t admit it. even when he’s washing your hair and complaining that your shampoo sucks or scowling at you for not eating the pickles in your sandwich before he stuffs them in his mouth. even when he complains that the game you like is ‘stupid’ because he’s lost for what feels like the 500th time against you. barou doesn’t outright admit it but he would do anything to see the twinkle in your eyes when you look at him, the way your eyes crinkle and shine at him. the beaming smile and the kiss on his cheek that you give him to show him you’re thankful. you’re his baby after all. there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you. he loves to love you.

ᣟ៹ ❤︎៝ : wahhh i love this man smsmsmsm barou my baby :( he needs more appreciation fr omg.. i adore him with all my heart i’m in love ..