in which multiple bllk men fall in love with reader who is the exact opposite of their ideal types.
based on this lovely request. thank you.
barou:
barou loved keeping his house clean. when he would think of the future, if ever, really, he'd always find himself wanting a partner who enjoyed cleanliness just as much.
but now, as he picks a handful of candy wrappers from under the cushion, barou can't help but chuckle at the cheeky smile you give him.
every morning, when he wakes up with your laundry over his bed, he can't help but clean them for you. if it meant you'd stare at him like he hung the stars and moon himself– actually, like he was the moon itself, and press a peck to his face after finding out.
and if you even attempt on cleaning the mess, he feels his heart drop to the floor. barou feels like mabey he made you feel bad, and snatches it away from you immediately.
“sit, let me do the work.”
“but barou, i don't even repay you after..”
“baby, you sitting there, being all cute and getting crumbs over my pillow is enough repayment, don't worry.” a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.
before you protest, though, half-heartedly, he hurriedly stomps away. leaving you and the low-quality movie you found from an illegal site quieting down.
Isagi:
ever since he was little, he developed a liking towards girls with a cute smile, especially the ones that laughed alot.
but now, as you stare at his face blankly after the funniest joke he'd ever made, he notices the heat that rises up to his cheeks.
not because of embarrassment, never.
he feels like getting you to laugh is a challenge, that he'd be more than happy to take part in. he could count on his fingers the amount of times he himself made you laugh, and to say that it was the best sound he'd ever heard was an understatement.
it was like the pre-chorus to his favourite song, it was like the honey that slowly dripped down chicken, like the first day after a big match.
you didn't laugh, you cackled, cackled like your throat was drier than any desert that ceased to exsist.
the kind of laugh that people turn around at in a packed bus, the kind of laugh teachers would groan at.
but most Importantly, the kind of laugh that made him laugh to. the laugh that was funnier than the joke itself.
and he wouldn't trade it for anything else.
kaiser:
kaiser always seemed to admire smart, confident women full of love.
but you, the only one he's ever love for real, could barely speak for yourself. you shyed away at the smallest of things, refused to ask for the last pieces of a dish, could barely even ask for where the bathroom was.
and many other times, you were nervous even around him.
“liebling, could you pass me some of those chips?” he threw and arm around your waist, in a poor attempt to reach for the snack beside them.
your body stiffened immediately, heat rushing to your cheeks at a piercing speed. liebling..? you couldn't contain yourself from visibly squealing at the way the term left his lips.
kaiser didn't think much of it. got his chips, he was content beside you. through the corner of his clear blue eyes, he saw you search the term 'liebling' up with shaky fingers.
“sweetheart..” he lowered himself to your ear, drawling.
your head shot up, heat practically radiating off of you as you tightened your grip around the throw-over blanket on the couch.
“that's what it means” he chuckled.
“shut up.” you huffed.
he adored how independent you were, and how you'd rather dig a hole through the centre of the earth instead of ask someone for help.
and he could be confident enough for the both of you anyway.
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─── you're a big girl now, no more daddy's little girl
bllk x reader ft. isagi, bachira, chigiri rin, sae, nagi, reo, barou, otoya
aabi's note: should i make pt two?? also love u guys mwahmwah kisses xoxoxo
synopsis: blue lock boys & their daughters growing up
𝄞𝄢 isagi yoichi.
whenever relatives or randoms would ask your daughter, "mama or papa", she'd always choose papa. this girl was always GLUED to isagi's leg, and your husband never complained. he would tie her hair in two small pigtails with colorful hair ties and tuck her bangs away with cute hello kitty clips. after training, he would forget his exhaustion, re-reading her favorite bedtime story for the nth time until she dozed off. during matches? she was isagi's biggest fan, wearing a mini isagi jersey and screaming "go papa!" every time the ball was under his feet.
soon, she grew a passion for soccer, owning a collection of colorful cleats and jerseys with her name engraved on the fabric. she played for her school's team, winning gold medals and shiny trophies. news spread fast that a new soccer prodigy was evolving, isagi yoichi's daughter. her talent and her dad's fame helped sky rocket her soccer career. it wasn't long until she was playing under expensive leagues, becoming a soccer legend. whenever a soccer fan talked about the player 'isagi', they weren't talking about your husband, but rather your daughter. yup, she was that famous and she LOVED it.
but unfortunately like many, fame got to her head.
she got caught up in dirty scandals, nearly lost her soccer career five times, and showed a personality he never expected to see. but isagi didn't let those stuff change his love for his daughter. he'd watch all her matches, supporting her from the stands or by watching tv in the comfort of your shared home. he'd message her daily, despite not receiving any responses. "did you eat?" "call me later if you have time" "mommy and daddy miss you. come home whenever baby."
isagi never says it, but he misses his little girl every day.
𝄞𝄢 bachira meguru.
like bachira, your daughter was mischievous. he'd whisper in her ear, "lets prank mama", but everytime, she'd refuse with a pout. "no pranking mama!", she'd cry during an attempt to prank you. later when bachira was fast asleep, she'd grab a permanent marker, scribbling itachi lines and other horrendous images all over his face. and when bachira woke up to see the masterpiece, he'd praise his daughter.
"you're better than shakespeare!"
"meguru... shakespeare was a writer", you'd sigh from the side.
when your daughter becomes a teenager, she avoids bachira, keeping her interactions with him minimal. bachira tried to maintain their dad-daughter relationship. he would slip notes into her lunch bag, try to wear matching outfits with her, and invite her to whimsical playdates. each time she'd reply with, "dad, stop, you're being weird." her reasoning for everything would be bachira's "behavior". he would laugh it off, but it stung a lot.
"no i'm not inviting my friends over 'cuz they're gonna think dad's weird."
"dad can you stop making that face. it's ugly."
"you're so embarrassing dad!"
late at night, the door to your daughter's room would be slightly cracked open. when you entered, you saw bachira sitting on her bedside, looking at the floor with a sad smile.
"what's wrong meguru?"
"my daughters all grown up now.. but where did i go wrong?"
𝄞𝄢 chigiri hyoma.
chigiri was beautiful, you were beautiful, so it was no doubt that your daughter would be ethereal.
and also it was no doubt she would love running.
she inherited her dad's fast running abilities. at the age of three, she was zooming past everyone faster than lightning. at six, she already won first place nationwide in running competitions. at ten, she was practically a celebrity, known for being an impressive the best sprinter ever!
chigiri loved his daughter's passion for running. she reminded him of his younger self.
he knew how it felt to almost lose everything. so when she sprinted down fields, pink hair tied into a long ponytail, he'd watch with pride, but also fear.
everything felt too familiar―the hospital room, the doctors saying, "she needs to be careful while running."
during her recovery, she refused to cry. she pushed harder than anyone. she never gave up on running.
your daughter's resilience scared chigiri. what if she got injured again? what would happen to her? what if he wasn't around to protect her? all these thoughts made chigiri so suffocating and protective.
during an argument, your daughter snapped.
"i'm not like you at all!" she shouted, "stop bossing me around because i'm not going to shatter!"
when chigiri realized he was being possessive and projecting his insecurities upon his world, he realized it was too late. his daughter was far into her running career, far from home.
𝄞𝄢 itoshi rin.
showcasing affection to your daughter was one of the greatest struggles for rin. she always wanted hugs, kisses, cuddles. she wanted all his attention and all his love.
when she'd cry after tripping, he never cooed. rin simply handed her a tissue without panicking. "stand on your own," he murmured. "you're a strong girl."
your daughter grew up believing that strength meant silence. she thought to be strong was to refrain from making any noise, even when her chest felt extra tight and she badly wanted to cry.
during elementary, she'd beg her dad to attend all her school's events. "please please please come to my christmas concert!" "daddy come to my award ceremony." "dad it's parent-teacher interview day! want you, mommy next time!!!"
in middle school, she stopped asking. by high school, he was the one who had to start bugging her for information.
one fine night, rin was walking through the hallway after his nightly meditation session, excited to sleep while embracing you. he walked past your daughter's room but overheard muffled crying. he paused outside her door, hand ghosting over the cold door knob.
rin stood their longer than he'd ever admit, contemplating whether he should go inside and comfort her. last time he tried to, she brushed past him coldly.
when your daughter moved out, she didn't cry. she just said, "i'll handle it," the exact same way he did in every part of his life.
it was rin who cried instead.
𝄞𝄢 itoshi sae.
being itoshi sae's daughter meant having to deal with crazy, unwanted expectations from all around the world.
every single person, whether it was a relative or some random fan on the internet, watched your daughter like a hawk. they observed her achievements, her personality, and every little thing about her. if she was itoshi sae's daughter, she had to be exceptional in some sort of way after all.
meanwhile sae wasn't the best father, prioritizing his soccer career over his family. whenever he returned home, your daughter clung to him. she tried her best to show off all her accomplishments, waiting for any hint of approval.
sae only nodded and muttered "good." in his mind, that was praise. he failed to realize how his simple words squeezed your daughter's chest in all the wrong ways, making her feel horribly insecure.
on one particular occasion, she came home with a silver medal, second place engraved onto the material. she looked embarrassed, deeply humiliated than ever. on the internet, heated discourse was unfolding. article headlines said, "unalike her father itoshi sae, she is not the best."
"i'll do better next time," she murmured to you two, keeping her head down. you tried to relax her, but sae said "you should."
sae's blunt words didn't train her into someone unbreakable and disciplined like him. rather, she searched for attention everywhere, seeking for even the tiniest hint of validation. she craved validation.
she did anything for validation, anything. her activities went from staying up at odd times of the night to perfect an assignment or volunteering for things she didn't even enjoy to checking her phone ever few minutes. she read every article about her, refreshed comment sections, and took every hate comment to heart.
she especially read those gossip articles which compared her and her father.
the entire time, sae thought he was building a strong girl who could lift the world up with her bare hands. your daughter was actually being crushed by the world.
𝄞𝄢 nagi seishiro.
your daughter was nagi's identical twin―the same perfectly tousled white hair, doe grey eyes, and that sleepy pout. her personality was the same as his as well, lazy and aloof. she napped on nagi's chest, played the same games as him, and even wore his big hoodies that drowned her frame.
sometimes you'd go to check up on your daughter late at night, hoping she's sleeping well. instead, you find her in the living room, drooling on top of her dad who's also asleep, the tv displaying a paused, long forgotten video game. when you'd try to pull your daughter off nagi, hoping to tuck her in bed, she'd tightly clutch onto his pajamas and sleepily whine.
as she starts to get older, she gets busier. it's expected though―adulthood takes up all of one's time. but nagi hates it. he misses binging shows with your daughter and getting scolded by you for staying up past 5 am. he misses the very sleepy conversations on video game lore. he misses hearing all of your daughter's theories and yap about favorite characters. he just misses her so much.
late at night, nagi would wait for your daughter to return from wherever, sitting on the living room couch. he would walk to the main entrance when he heard the front door shut, holding two consoles in his hand, one of them being your daughter's childhood one, decorated with peeling stickers.
"let's play", he'd murmur with a small smile, but your daughter ignored him, brushing past him. nagi wouldn't try to follow her. every time he did, the night would end in yelling. nagi's a man of few words, a man who disliked argued.
eventually, nagi gave up. she'd warm up again, right? she'd come back to him so they could play video games, right?
he bought figures of characters she liked, stocked up on video game dvds―heck, he even prepared his own genshin account to pass down to her.
in the end, his efforts were all useless. his daughter did not care one bit.
𝄞𝄢 reo mikage.
the second your daughter was born, she was endlessly SPOILED. she wanted a pretty pink dress with ruffles and bows? when she woke up, it would be displayed on a mannequin in her walk-in closet. all her friends and classmates would stare at her with envy as she yapped about the latest thing reo bought her.
if the world was a kingdom, reo was the king. and your daughter was the crowned jewel.
to reo, your daughter was priceless.
one day, the three of you guys were shopping together after a long time, reo's one hand laced in yours and his other holding onto a bunch of shopping bags. in front of you two, your daughter, much older now, was skipping away, holding onto her own shopping bags. the two of you followed her into another designer store, mentally preparing to see her try on a bunch of dresses and criticize every product. you watched reo grabbing tops, pushing them to your daughter. "you'll look great in this!" "that color suits you." "try this one too!"
your daughter didn't look at him at all. she shoved all the clothes away, muttering "so annoying" under her breath. reo heard her, but he didn't let the ache in his heart spoil everything. he continued to try even when she was constantly walking away from him.
"c'mon princess, try this dress. it's fabulous!"
"dad, can you stop calling me that..?"
reo blinks. your daughter's voice was harsh and cold.
"also that's outdated," she scoffs and heads to another section.
"righttt. i guess trends changed," reo chuckles lightly. he tries to laugh it off, but you can see the genuine hurt in his eyes.
later when he tried to pay for her, bracing himself to swipe that shiny black card, she pushed him aside. only then does reo realize your daughter doesn't need him anymore.
𝄞𝄢 barou shoei.
barou was clean and disciplined. his daughter? she's messy, loud, and eats with her mouth WIDE open. your house was a complete warzone, your daughter was the perpetrator and barou was the cleaner. it was amusing watching the self-proclaimed king chase after a giggling toddler with a poop-drenched diaper on. but barou never complained. not once. even if your daughter threw that dirty poo-stained diaper directly at his face.
he'd just stand their frozen, jaw twitching, vein popping out his forehead and muttering, "unbelievable", while cleaning her mess anyway.
the three of you guys would eat dinner together, a warm meal you cooked up with love. your daughter would be on her high chair, digging in with her hands, food all over face. she grabbed fistfuls of rice and shoved them in her mouth, sauce smeared on her cheeks
barou would scowl, but still abandoned his dinner to clean her cheeks with surprising gentleness.
he remained patient and steadfast, refraining from crashing out each time your daughter pulled some unhygienic bs.
barou loved her chaos. barou loved being needed. barou LOVED fixing what your daughter ruined.
when she grew older, your house became quiet―no more noise and dirt. the toys all over the floor disappeared. your countertop was no longer sticky with traces questionable material.
dinner became proper. your daughter, who severely lacked table manners before, sat properly and chewed with her mouth closed. her politeness shocked you two, barou especially. he couldn't help but miss her disarray.
one evening, barou reached for her across the table, trying to wipe the corner of her mouth out of habit. she leaned back slightly. her face was squished up into something unreadable? perhaps disgust?
"i've got it dad," she said.
barou's hand lingered mid-air in the second before he slowly pulled back.
"good."
but truly, he wasn't feeling good at all.
𝄞𝄢 otoya eita.
when you were pregnant with your daughter, you also learned the news of otoya cheating.
thankfully, you were living in stable conditions, so you divorced him. at first, otoya didn't fight it. but when he figured about your daughter, he begged to co-parent―to be involved in your daughter's life. reluctantly, you accepted his offer, only because he expressed sincerity for once. during the weekdays, your daughter stayed with you, and on the weekends she was at otoya's.
otoya tried his best to keep THAT side of his life away from his daughter. he kept his phone face-down during daddy-daughter dates, blocked all the ladies calling him, and even abandoned his old ways, the old version that thrived on attention. he'd do anything for his daughter, even if it meant letting go of the part of his life which fueled his days (and ego).
his goal was to ensure his daughter would not end up like him.
he failed.
your daughter became the worst player in town. and she was good at messing with people's feelings.
out of curiosity, she went through her dad's belongings as a kid. why was dad always hiding his phone? why did random women always approach him out of nowhere and start yelling at him? it was natural for a kid to wonder what their parent was up to.
she never fully understood why her dad was up at night texting girls or why he was constantly chased and admired. but through him she learned the power of attention.
in middle school, she tested it. she laughed too sweetly, batted her lashes, did the stupid triangle method. in high school, she mastered it. situationships, friendships ending over boys, social media drama; that was the summary of her entire four years in high school.
otoya didn't notice at first. he thought her behavior was normal and harmless. all girls act like that when they have crushes, right?
wrong.
he overheard her gossiping on the phone. "i'm not serious 'bout him at all," she laughed. "he's just a temporary distraction."
his heart panged. that hit too close to home.
the one thing he tried to protect her from was the only thing she became.
that was the first thing barou said the second he saw the little container in your hands.
you blinked at him from across the couch. “it’s a facemask.”
“i know what it is.”
“then stop acting like i pulled out a weapon.”
barou crossed his arms immediately, expression sharp with offense as he stared down at the small pink packet sitting in your lap like it personally insulted him.
“those things are pointless.”
“your skin is literally dry.”
“my skin is fine.”
you stared at him silently, he stared back.
“…it looks painful,” you finished flatly.
his eye twitched, “watch your mouth.”
you snorted softly before patting the empty spot beside you on the couch. “c’mon. just once.”
“no.”
“shoei.”
“absolutely not.”
five minutes later, he was sitting beside you anyway, grumbling loudly.
“this is stupid,” he muttered as you gently pushed his hair back with a headband.
“stop moving.”
“i look ridiculous.”
“you always look ridiculous.”
his glare snapped toward you instantly, you only smiled sweetly in return. dramatic king.
“close your eyes,” you instructed, already scooping some of the mask onto your fingers.
he sighed like this was the worst thing anybody had ever forced him through, but eventually listened.
carefully, you spread the cool facemask over his skin, immediately, his brows furrowed.
“…cold.”
“that’s how skincare works.”
“it’s disgusting.”
“you’re being a baby.”
his eyes opened instantly. “i’m not a baby.”
“mhm.” you continued smoothing the mask across his cheeks while trying not to laugh at the irritated expression permanently stuck on his face.
honestly, it was kind of adorable, especially because despite all the complaining — he was letting you do it anyway.
“don’t get it near my hair,” he warned seriously.
“yes, your majesty.”
“don’t start.”
too late. you were already giggling quietly while finishing the last bit near his jaw.
“done,” you announced proudly, leaning back to admire your work.
barou looked deeply unimpressed. the pastel pink facemask against his permanently annoyed expression made the entire situation ten times funnier.
“you better not be laughing at me.”
that only made you laugh harder. his glare deepened, then-
without warning, one of his hands grabbed your wrist, pulling you closer against him suddenly. you let out a surprised noise as he narrowed his eyes at you.
“if i suffer through this,” he muttered, “you’re staying here with me.”
you smiled immediately. “clingy.”
“quiet.” but even as he said it, his grip loosened slightly, thumb brushing absentmindedly against your skin while you settled comfortably beside him.
a few seconds passed quietly before- “…does it actually make my skin better?”
you blinked, then grinned.
“aw. are you getting into skincare now?”
“shut up.”
a/n: our stubborn king we luv u sho
tysm for reading and other than that theres nothing more to add !!
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+*. summary : barou treats everyone the same. rough and a bit aggresive. however, it’s different when it comes to you.
+*. content/cw: highschool!barou and slight swearing….? well he just says hell . enjoy! + sorry for any errors im too lazy to check
+*. a/n just realised i’ve been writing barou and rin alot… oh well they r both my favorites <3
“he’s scary,” one whispers at the back of the classroom.
“his glare stabs people in the heart,” another one exaggerates.
rough. aggresive. cold. those words are people describe what kind of person barou shoei is.
…it’s not like he’s evil, though. in fact, he’s extremely kind. he’s someone who knows when to listen, and knows when to give advice. he helps without you even having to ask. he cares. alot!
actually, he’s a pretty big softie.
but, nobody knows.
nobody knows that side of him,
because he only reveals it to you.
—
at first, you believed the people. i mean, he was big—and it felt like there was a dark aura surrounding him whenever he stepped foot anywhere. with him furrowing his brows all the time, its normal for someone to be frightened by him.
you and barou’s first encounter was when you were helping out your teacher by carrying a set of activity books to the teacher’s room. they started to wobble in place, but you insist your teacher you don’t need help.
you start to lose focus and daydream as you walk towards the teacher’s room. and of course— that led you to tripping on your own two feet and dropping the books hard onto the floor.
you then hear a thud, like the books fell against something… or someone. you look up and felt yourself going pale.
it was barou shoei.
his eyes widened like he was furious, brows knitted to the max as he turned around to face the person that bumped into him.
then he realised it was you.
he felt his body tense up, but his gaze softened. he didn’t even realise he was doing so.
you immediately got up, frantically picking up the books that fell. “ohmygosh—i am SO sorry,” you stutter.
frick, now he’s gonna kill you!!! you were already saying your prayers and saying goodbye to your loved ones—
“here.” barou passes you the remaining books that fell. you snapped out of it and felt quite surprised hearing his voice.
you look up at him and stared into his ruby eyes. it was as if the dark aura around him completely dissapeared. his voice was softer, too. much more quiet and calm than how he would yell at his friends when they piss him off. his eyebrows… were normal, too. this is weird.
you clear your throat, “thank you,” you mutter. you stack up the books back and quickly run to the teachers room.
he seemed different.
—
you started to notice more often that he was always different around you. his body language, how he always avoids eye contact. and he would never, ever raise his voice at you.
“he has to have something for you,” your friend teases. the others agree, and you immediately shoo away their thoughts.
“guys, cmon. barou? liking anybody? as if. he’s too busy with soccer… and being mad at everyone.” you reply to their teases.
your friend insists, “but he never gets mad at you! he scolds us for not cleaning the class, but he never says anything about you.”
“he just respects me,” you say. yep. must be it.
your friend sighs and gets up from her seat. she then proceeds to walk up to the chalkboard and drew something on it.
the class erupted in laughter when she revealed what it was. it was a bad drawing of barou in a maid outfit. you couldn’t help but chuckle at it.
and at that exact moment, barou walks inside the classroom. silence filled the room as your friend slowly backs away from the chalkboard. uh oh.
when he saw the horrid drawing of him, he felt his blood boil. people say you could even see steam coming out from his ears. “…who the hell made this?” he asked, sternly.
all of the sudden, your friend pointed in your direction. “she did it.” she said calmly. barou looked at you, and you looked at him with a worried face. once again, his entire face switched back to normal. his eyes soften, like he was never mad in the first place. he quietly wipes it off and walks over to his seat.
all your friends slowly look back at you, and you are just as surprised as them. for one second, he looked like he was about to murder somebody… then the next, he was like normal.
“told you.” she smirks. you smack her arm.
but it makes you wonder.
—
when you and barou finally start to talk more often, you really now realise how gentle he is with you. around you, he never has yelled or tried to argue with you.
barou could be scolding someone hard by the lockers, usually isagi or bachira, but once you come over, it’s like he’s the nicest guy in the world.
“bye, barou,” you smile as you walk off to class and he quietly waves back. isagi scrunches his nose in confusion as he looks at barou.
“why dont you talk nicely to me like that?” isagi comments, smirking slightly at barou. “is the king falling in love?” bachira adds, causing barou to elbow his arm.
“shut up.” barou says, before leaving the both of them.
isagi and bachira look at each other.
“he didn’t say no, right?”
—
barou showed his softness even more when the two of you got together. he doesn’t do pda in public, but he will give you quiet hugs in the classroom when nobody is there and hold your hand when you go on dates.
now, you realise that barou is not rough or aggresive… well, he isn’t to you atleast.
“i never knew you would be such a softie, barou,” you laugh as the two of you walk back home from school together.
“oi, youre lucky that you get to see this side of me.” he frowns.
“..i don’t show this part of me to anyone,” continued barou.
it makes your heart warm up knowing that he treats you differently than other people. makes you feel special.
you hold his hand tighter and smile, “im glad im special enough to see this part of you, then,”
and barou smiles, because you are special to him.
thank u for reading! imo, this seems rushed. i feel like love with barou would be more slow as he slowly gets to know u more, and u get to know him more. but oh well - hope u enjoyed <3
refined, bitter, expensive-tasting. not overly sweet, not trying to please anyone. definitely not for everyone and he prefers it that way.
rin itoshi as matcha mochi (no filling)
pure, intense, slightly bitter all the way through. if you get matcha, you get why it’s good. very “i don’t need anything extra” energy.
seishiro nagi as milk mochi
soft, pillowy, melts the second you bite into it. super mild, but weirdly addictive. you don’t expect much… and then suddenly you’ve eaten three without noticing.
yoichi isagi as strawberry jam mochi
balanced. there’s sweetness, a little tang, and it just works. it’s the kind of flavor that grows on you fast.
meguru bachira as mango passionfruit mochi
bright, tropical, slightly chaotic. sweet with a tangy kick that keeps things interesting. it pops. definitely the one that stands out in the box without even trying.
ryusei shidou as raspberry chili mochi
sweet, sharp, and then suddenly heat. it hits in layers and doesn’t hold back. a little wild, a little unhinged.
shoei barou as black sesame cream mochi
deep, rich, commanding. strong flavor that takes up space. not subtle in the slightest. you either respect it or you don’t deserve it.
rensuke kunigami as caramel mochi
warm, golden, dependable. sweet but not overwhelming. the kind of flavor that makes you feel giddy.
vivian hugo as champagne peach mochi
light, elegant, a little fancy. soft sweetness with a subtle sparkle to it. there’s a smooth confidence to it that feels effortless.
Stepbrother!Barou Who is the world's best big brother imaginable. He's the man, the older one, the protector of his little sister—biological or not—and he sure as hell takes this new role seriously, like everything else he does. He has to take care of you and simultaneously guide you to a bright future, be a good example and most importantly put some ground rules into your head.
Stepbrother!Barou Who always complains about your lack of tidiness. He grumbles about cleaning up after yourself while putting away your skincare products from the bathroom sink and chides you for not keeping organized whenever he comes into your room to pick up your laundry. He ends up dusting off your shelves himself before he strolls in with the vacuum cleaner.
Stepbrother!Barou Who is always there when you need someone or something. A shoulder to cry on? He's letting you cling to him and wet his shirt with your tears. Someone to take you to the mall? He's driving you personally and carries all the bags until you're done without complaining. No pocket money left for the strawberry matcha that calls your name? He's paying like it's second nature and even buys you the little cupcake he knows you've been secretly drooling over as well.
Stepbrother!Barou Who makes sure everyone who looks at you is met with his icy stare—eyes narrowed in suspicion, brows furrowed in annoyance and he's growling like a damn dog. If it's a boy and he dares to show too much interest in you, even if it's just for a school project, so help him God. The poor guy is damn sure to get slammed into the lockers after school and meet a panting Barou, jaw set so hard his teeth nearly crack and fists clenched in barely restraint fury while he spits deadly threats that he does indeed plan to act upon.
Stepbrother!Barou Who's cooking up a healthy dinner of protein and veggies as he watches you from the kitchen and how casually you lounge in the armchair while watching TV. Those little chuckles of yours make his features soften every time and he's not completely unaware of how little fabric you started wearing around the house ever since the summer heat came around.
Stepbrother!Barou Who folds your laundry, because it would be a tragedy if you'd have to lift a single one of your perfectly manicured fingers (sponsored by him) and also because he's seen how lazily you throw the clothes into your wardrobe... that's a no-no for him. He can't stop himself from peeking a little longer at your underwear in his hands, feeling the delicate fabric between his callouses and imagining you in every single piece of clothing that he's currently folding so neatly—the cute and innocent ones just as much as the naughtier stuff.
Stepbrother!Barou Who lets you model for him during your recent shopping trips and pretends it's just to give his, in your opinion, completely unreasonable opinion. Lately he even started to do outfit checks before you leave the house to go basically anywhere. He twirls you around with his big hands on your waist or hips, checks underneath your skirt and tells you to change if he doesn't like how short and easy access some pieces are.
Stepbrother!Barou Whose own wardrobe is now half full of your clothes, especially your lingerie—it's every piece he confiscated because he deemed it inappropriate and nobody will ever get to see his sweet little stepsister in something so slutty. The red lace lingerie is just as much for him as the short summer dresses and cheeky jeans shorts, and nobody—NOBODY—is ever going to see you in those again as long as he's around.
Stepbrother!Barou Who overheard you complain about the lack of care and attention ever since he took control of your life. He almost faints. Like what do you mean lack of care and attention?! He's doing everything for you already and you know exactly that you could ask for more and he'd still comply immediately... When it finally dawns on him what special needs you're talking about, he already decided that you will not give yourself over to some useless scum that couldn't satisfy you even if he'd be able to last more than two minutes before cumming like a middle schooler.
Stepbrother!Barou Who makes sure everything is set perfectly. Your diet and exercise is meticulously planned out the days before so your body could take what he plans on doing to you and he makes sure you drink lots of water throughout the day to help you stay hydrated. He prepares a bath for you and while he listens to you humming some songs from the bathroom, he sets the mood with scented candles and a bouquet of flowers. You always love his surprises, right? So you're sure to love this one too!
Stepbrother!Barou Who is spoiling you rotten in more ways than one when he ends up feeding you his mushroom tip. He's been unintentionally teasing you for the longest time, taking foreplay way too seriously before finally gave in to your pleading. Just the tip though. That has to be enough. He refuses to go all the way. Not because you are his stepsister, but because you're just a little baby in his eyes and you should wait a few more years (maybe until you're 50...) before letting some brute deflower your innocence.
Stepbrother!Barou Who sits back on his heels between your legs, shaky hands gripping the back of your knees to keep you spread and still. He's breathing heavily at the tight grip of your cunt around his tip and watches the way you stretch around it obscenely. You squirm and try to wriggle further down his cock, tears are running down your rosy cheeks as you whine for more... Not even a stickler like him has enough willpower to not just plow into you and give you everything you want—just like he always does.
@missyonmission
This work is entirely fictional and intended for entertainment purposes only. Any resemblance to real persons, places, organizations, or events is purely coincidental. No factual representations are intended.
