#Shoei Barou

[oo-mi-ru-oo]

Blue Lock art~💙

[ilsanslut]

BLUE LOCK BRAT TAMER!BOT SERIES! (C.AI)

hiii everyone, it's vampiie again! soo i know that ryusei and sae were already posted on c.ai, but i've gotten several requests for rin and barou to be added from j.ai to c.ai as well. on top of that, my nagi bot has been updated to be more descriptive and fit it's j.ai depicition a bit more.

here is my bllk brat tamer series on c.ai for you all to enjoy featuring: nagi seishiro, ryusei shidou, itoshi sae and rin, and barou shoei! i hope you all enjoy! ♡

DIRECT LINK TO BOTS/C.AI BENEATH CUT!

𓆩♱𓆪 c.ai user: vampiieluv.

⛧ brat tamer!nagi ⛧ brat tamer!sae ⛧ brat tamer!rin ⛧ brat tamer!shidou ⛧ brat tamer!barou

[eevees-hobbies]

CW: NSFW - Minors Do Not Interact. No Nut November thirst/drabble (?), mention of Shoei not caring if you want it so dubcon to be safe, but we all know you do, creampie, getting fucked silly.

Barou observes No Nut November by creaming in every single one of your holes for the entire month. That’s right, for 30 days, Barou bends you over, splits you apart, forces you onto your knees, and floods you with thick, warm loads of his cum.

He doesn’t really care which hole if we’re being honest or if you’re even ready to receive it because you’re damn sure gonna take it. 

“What the fuck were you on about?”

“N-no Nut November!” You whine as he fucks you into the mattress, so rough that his pelvis pounding against your ass is leaving you raw and red. He’s using you like a fleshlight, chasing the pleasure that only your tight, sopping-wet cunt can give him as he bottoms out to the hilt over and over.

“Christ sake..No Nut November, huh? And how am I doin’?” He growls into your ear as he floods your womb with endless hot spurts for the umpteenth time that night.

"Nnnngh! F-fuuuuck!" A pleased whimper leaves your throat as your eyes roll back, and drool collects at the corner of your mouth. Yeah, you’re exhausted, but you’re also being fucked so silly that your brain is starting to numb and grow dumb from his dick—just how you both like it. 

“I-it’s only the f-first of the month!” You moan into the pillow as you feel his hips begin to piston forward, bullying your sensitive cervix as his cum squelches and pools out of your pussy from the sheer volume of your creampie.

“Well, shit,” he chuckles breathlessly. “Guess I fucking failed at something for once.”

@rindous-starlight @interstellar-inn @pixelcafe-network

Comments & reblogs always appreciated

[quehecke]

i cannot wait for him to enter u20 🤤

[camryn-haitani]

BlueLock boys getting jealous

Shoei Barou, Jingo Raichi, Sae and Rin Itoshi (separate) x reader

TW: cursing

[cloudyzeusy]

The Fall of a King ||

I watched my sweet baby Barou as he rode my cock his face flushed red and his thighs either side of me. His pussy was soaked as he desperately moved himself to get off. I told him if he wanted my cock he could go get it since he begged for me while I put in zero effort.

I heard my phone buzzing on the desk on the side so I stretched my hand to get it I heard him complaining on top of me as i did so. " Wha- [name] please.. please move."

I tutted at him "You wanted my cock so bad I gave it to you and now you want more." He opened his mouth to complain but I shushed him and placed a kiss on his forehead .

I took the call and it was his friend Isagi. "Hello?" I said sitting up and thrusting slowly into him making him let out breathy moans.

"Hey do you know where Barou is I was calling him yet he didn't pick up his phone." Isagi asked concerned.

"Yeah he's a little busy right now." I said more focused on my quivering boyfriend below me.

"Anyway just make sure to show him the article that was written on him it's so funny. I'll send it to you." He said laughing and hung up.

I ground into his cunt tweaking his nipples as I multitasked opening up the article. I laughed as I read it .

"The King Barou makes his debut in the competitive world of football, there are few who can match the sheer dominance and power that Shoei Barou wields.

"Imagine if everyone could see you now then huh what do you think they'd say the big scary Barou coming apart on my cock." I teased him feeling him tighten up around me flushing in embarrassment.

"noo." He whined indignatly but the shaking of his hips didn't help his case.

"no what? that you aren't a slut as if you weren't begging for me moments ago." I tossed my phone onto the bedside table focusing all my attention on the pretty little thing on top of me.

I thrusted hard into his warm cunt that wrapped around me not wanting to let me go as i bounced him on top of me. Which allowed me to hit his prostate head on.

"[name] [name]!" He moaned out loving all the attention i gave him and i could tell he was getting close.

"come on~ let go for me baby." I whispered in his ear pushing him over the edge as he let go orgasming over my cock. I flipped him over laying him on his back as i pounded into him ignoring his cries of being overstimulated.

Till i reached my own climax inside of him filling him up to the brim and he came again his body shuddering. I pulled out watching my cum flow out of him if i wasn't sure he would pass out i would go for another round.

"Shoei.. Shoei." I said trying to wake him before he went to bed cum all over him and the sheets. Instead i just lifted him up carrying him to the bathroom where i cleaned him and we knocked the fuck out.

[sassypossum]

Put a Shirt On

Shoei Barou x Reader ~ @mrsoharaa, this one's for you pookie, hope you feel better!!!

Y/N fiddled around her pocket for the key to her apartment, this was not an easy task considering the numerous grocery bags she had looped over each arm. Since one of her guests had decided that he would be staying with her indefinitely, she’d had to make more grocery runs than usual.

“Great, just great.” She muttered to herself, banging her head against the door. That brought the attention of her guest. Suddenly the door opened, and she rushed inside to put the bags down. “Thank you!” Y/N called over her shoulder in her hurry reach the kitchen counters. Setting the bags down with a satisfied huff, she brushed a hand over her hair and sighed. “You would not believe,” As she turned around her words trailed off, along with her concentration. “Barou?”

“Yeah?” Barou had moved to the other side of the counter, reaching for one of the bags to empty its contents. Holding a box, he looked up at her and quirked a brow.

“Why, um,” Fumbling with her words, Y/N pulled at her shirt collar and cleared her throat. Barou merely smirked at her and went back to unloading the bag. He knew exactly what had caused her attention to trail off.

“Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?” The words came out all on top of each other, and she had braced her hand against the counter top, leaning her weight on it.

“If I am not wearing a shirt, will I not receive service?” Barou closed the cabinet he’d opened, and leaned against the counter, mirroring her position. He bit back a chuckle at the scarlet hue her face turned.

“What on earth do you mean by that?” She squeaked out. Barou had to chuckle. Pushing away from the counter, he resumed unloading the groceries, making sure to exaggerate every flex of muscle when he had to reach for something, or open a cabinet. Glancing over his shoulder he noticed that Y/N was sitting on one of the stools just staring at him blankly.

Barou felt a sense of satisfaction at how he could bring this intelligent woman to unintelligible speech. He wasn’t as stupid as people seemed to think he was. Ever since he’d first noticed his effect on her, he'd made sure to make the most of his assets as often as possible.

“The groceries are put away.” He leaned against the counter again, and looked down at her. Y/N still had her eyes trained on his torso. Barou shook his head and titled her chin up towards his face. “Y/N?”

“Huh?” She blinked and slowly his face came back into focus. Shaking her head, she looked at him thoroughly confused.

“The groceries are put away.” He repeated himself. Y/N did everything in her power to keep her attention on his face, and Barou smiled at how fidgety she’d become. “Is everything alright, Y/N?”

“Fine!” She said too brightly.” Looking down at his chest again, she turned bright red and bolted from the room. Barou merely shook his head and laughed. That was, until one of his shirts hit him in the face.

[shiyosugi]

the way I screamed... I need him

[dolche-tejada]

[victim-of-subtraction]

part 3 :P

[oo-mi-ru-oo]

Blue Lock art~💙

[ilsanslut]

BLUE LOCK BRAT TAMER!BOT SERIES!

hiii everyone, it's vampiie again! oof, there are so many blue lock boys that it was hard to pick the first five for this series, but let me know who you guys would like to see in the future!

here is my bllk brat tamer series on j.ai for you all to enjoy featuring: nagi seishiro, ryusei shidou, itoshi sae and rin, and barou shoei! i hope you all enjoy! ♡

DIRECT LINK TO BOTS/J.AI BENEATH CUT!

𓆩♱𓆪 j.ai user: boovampiie.

⛧ brat tamer!nagi ⛧ brat tamer!sae ⛧ brat tamer!rin ⛧ brat tamer!shidou ⛧ brat tamer!barou

[pparadiselost]

avoir.

various (blue lock) x fem reader how they like to make you cum warning(s): nsfw minors do not interact.

on their mouth!

There’s a rush they get from knowing that they can completely unravel you without even lifting a finger. They’ll yank you onto their face, strong hands grabbing onto your thighs as they pull your dripping pussy down onto their mouth. They can’t get enough of your taste in their mouth, and no matter how many times you’ve cum all over their lips, they’ll swallow it all down and lean back in for more. They’re not letting you go, not until you’re twitching on the bed from, sheets soaked with your cum, brain muddled except for the thought of how addictive their tongue feels on your cunt. And when you yank at their hair, crying about how it’s too much, how you can’t cum again, they’ll simply laugh and pin your hips down just to prove that yes, you can give them one more. 

YUKIMIYA, AIKU, lavinho, prince, snuffy

on their fingers!

Maybe it’s a pride thing. Either way, they think you look the prettiest when you’re grinding down on their hand, their fingers spreading apart your pretty pussy and fucking you out on two or three of their lithe fingers. Their wrist rubs slow circles onto your clit, and their eyes stay fixed on you while you squirm and moan. They’ll curl their knuckles inside of you, imitating the teasing movements of their cock inside of your tight pussy. It’s unfair how smug they look when they feel your cunt squeeze and gush around them, cooing at you about how cute you are, feeling this good from being fucked by nothing but their fingers.

aryu, KARASU, luna, EGO, sae, kuon 

on their cock!

This is what they think feels best for the both of you. Splitting you in two on their cock, feeling your cunt gush and cream around their girth, eyes fixed on your face while your eyes and mouth twitch in pleasure. They want to stuff your cute pussy with their cock, emptying their heavy balls into your cunt until the only thing on your mind is feeling more of their dick. It’s not their fault that you’re so irresistible when you’re all fucked out and hazy, babbling about how it’s too good, how you can’t get enough, how you want more of their cock inside you… Lucky for you, they’re more than happy to oblige: pressing you down into their bed as they stretch your fucked out cunt all over again. 

barou, SHIDOU, NOA, kaiser

[eevees-hobbies]

Your Killer Client - NSFW (Fem!Reader x Shoei Barou)

Synopsis: You need to ask for a raise because not only do you regularly have to deal with tom-foolery as a sports agent to egoist soccer players like Shoei Barou, but he also moonlights as a murderer. Girl, send the invoice now! Wait, you're into it...?

Content Warning: Fem!Reader x Shoei Barou. DEAD DOVE WARNING. If you are uncomfortable with disturbing themes like murder, you should not read this. Murder w/no remorse & def. Not taken seriously by Reader (you and Shoei are NOT normal), Knifeplay, DubCon to be safe, Deification (treating someone as if they are a God), Unprotected Sex. Cursing. Minors Do Not Interact. || Word Count: 2.3K

Author’s Note: Heavily inspired by American Psycho, Scream, and Hip to Be Scared by Ice Nine Kills, so some quotes are nestled in there! This is for the "No, You Hang Up" Kinktober Ghostface Collab event. Reblogs & comments always appreciated.

Banner by me. Divider by @sister-lucifer

Why do all my clients have to live on the top floor of skyscrapers? I’ve been on this elevator for seven fucking minutes!

As one of the top sports agents in the industry, you’ve grown accustomed to the eccentricities of your clients: lavish penthouses, all-weekend sex parties that end up with a few broken hearts–never your clients, of course, and some not-so-flattering stories in the tabloids.

But right now, your focus is on the most unique client on your roster: world-renowned striker Shoei Barou. Sure, he often refers to himself as a “King,” which is odd and speaks to a deep-rooted ego problem, but the man is a force on the field. The endorsement deals never truly stop–being the villain is currently en vogue–and he pays really, really well. So to you, it’s all hail King Barou every fucking day.

As you step into his condo using your personal key after giving a few warning knocks but getting no response, you aren’t met with a simple hi, a gruff hello, or even a measly fucking grunt. No, you’re met with something far more exciting for a Wednesday!

“I fucked up bad.”

“I fucked up real fuckin’ bad.”

Shoei has his face buried in his palms; his bare shoulders are hunched tightly at his neck, and dried blood coats his hands and lower arms. 

That can’t be good for his posture, you think to yourself as you take inventory of the scene. Tipped-over cans of beer litter the pristine carpet, pizza boxes lay ajar, and the half-eaten pies are on the brink of becoming inedible as they sit out and harden from exposure to the cool air in the condo.

The mess is unlike him, but even more jarring is the body that’s splayed out, thick pools of dark-red blood coalescing around the nobody–god, you’re internal monologue sounds like Barou–and staining his pristine carpet. He doesn’t even let you wear shoes in his condo, but bleeding all over the place is fine apparently. 

“Y/N, you know I’m a bit fucking psychotic, but I’ve crossed the line, and I don’t think I’m going to get away with it this time.”

This time?

You find yourself oddly at peace with the scene. Sure, RIP to the poor sap laying in his own guts on the floor, but you’re actually more surprised Shoei hasn’t hurt someone sooner with his temper, and truth be told, you’ve seen much worse from some of your other clients. 

A sudden sniffle breaks you out of your thoughts, and you turn your head to the Barou, who looks so pitifully tiny hunched over as he sobs into his hands. “You aren’t crying, are you?” 

Your tone is rather harsh, and you mentally chastise yourself for your blunt delivery, but it’s too late–the question is already hanging laboriously in the air. Regardless, this is Barou! He curses you out practically every day and sends you a check with an obscene amount of dollar signs the next week! 

Barou peels his face out of his hands, his expression shifting between disturbance and disgust at your question.

“Don’t look at me like that. You’re the one who committed murder, not me.”

Shit. Maybe that was a beat too far because Barou rises quickly, his muscles rippling under his skin, tension coiled dangerously as he moves toward you with his hands clenched into tight fists. 

You don’t move because well, if this is your time to go, this is your time to go–you always knew it would be one of your clients, but you had clocked Ryusei as the one who was going to end you, not Barou. 

Huh, the universe is funny like that.

But Barou doesn’t swing or wrap his large hands around your throat; no, instead, he stops in front of you and sinks to his knees, those same hands that were used to take a man’s life grip at your dress in desperation.

“Please. I don’t want to go to jail. I still have championships to win and people to destroy.”

Of fucking course.

But fuck, seeing him on his knees like this stirs something in you–maybe it’s that you want to protect him or maybe you want to demand he lick a long stripe from your inner thighs to the seat of your panties since he’s already down there.

Focus.

You reach a pretty pedicured hand down, your nails digging into that well-defined jaw that’s justifiably earned him a full page spread in GQ magazine, and tilt his head upwards.

For a moment, you bask in the feeling that he’s looking up at you as though you’re someone to pray to–someone who can grant mercy and absolution for his sins. It’s fucking intoxicating being in this position and feeling like you hold his life in your hand because you undeniably do.

“Do you see what I am for you?” you whisper.

Crimson eyes stare up at you–big, pleading, desperate.

“I’m salvation,” you breathe in finality with only yourself, Shoei, and the dead nobody to bear witness.

He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth as he looks up at you. “You can help…?”

You give him a sideways glance, knowing that you’ve got him right where you want him. “Oh, I can do more than help, sweetie. I can fix it.” You let the word ‘fix’ sit weighty in the air, a silent understanding passing between you as he sighs, nodding. “Yeah, I’ll give you a massive bonus if you can, well, you know.” He motions to the body, his eyes darting away quickly.

You, being a person who takes initiative, are already reaching into your pocket to make a call to a ‘cleaner’ that you keep on retainer. But as your finger hovers over the call button, you spot something peculiar not too far from the body. When you came in, you thought it was a tarp, Shoei’s poor attempt at cleaning up the evidence of his crime, but as you croon your neck to get a better look, you realize that it’s too small to be a tarp. 

On the floor, discarded but an obvious eyesore in the perfectly curated space is a cloak, a knife, and a….what the fuck? Is that a mask?

You walk over to the discarded costume, being careful to step over the body because you’ll be damned if you’re implicated in this mess, and nudge the mask with the toe of your heel. It’s a fucking Ghostface mask. How….macabre.

Shoei must feel the judgment flowing from your pores because he’s instantly sneering and hovering near you, his arm brushing against yours in what feels oddly intimate, considering the circumstances.  

“I didn’t want to kill him and get his blood all over my clothes, so I put on my Halloween costume to finish him off.”

“Do I want to know what you fought over?”

“Would it matter?”

You open your mouth to reply, but you pause because you realize that it doesn’t matter–even though you’re standing over a dead body and unreasonably close to his killer, you’re also painfully aware of the heat emitting from Shoei, the scent of his sweat–because killing someone is undoubtedly hard work–and the soft node of his cologne as it fills your nostrils.

And strangely, you’ve never been more turned on.

“What was it like? Killing him, I mean?”

Shoei turns to you, a flicker of surprise and something else–lust, perhaps–shining in his eyes. He pauses for a beat, studying your face to gauge your intentions before he answers. 

“I’ve never felt more powerful in my life.”

As he continues to speak, you notice the way his jaw clenches slightly, his adams apple bobbing as he recounts how he felt during the murder, and the distinct tent growing in his sweats.

“I thought being the king on the field, crushing people’s dreams and making them realize that I’m actually the main character in their own pathetic lives was fucking amazing, but slicing him up and seeing him choke on his own blood as I fucking finished a slice of pizza was the best I’ve felt in ages.”

And to the best of your knowledge, Shoei isn’t a liar. That answer was so honest that it was almost endearing.

Your eyes wander to the knife at your feet. The blood is thicker than what you’d imagine it to be–not that you spend time sitting around imagining blood-stained weapons. You bend down, pick up the knife, and examine it, holding it only inches from your face.

“It’s heavier than I expected,” you muse aloud. You bring the knife up to your neck, holding the blade to your throat, tilting your head back to avoid any knicks but still enough to feel the sticky, cold liquid smudge against the thundering pulse located in the column of your throat.

“That’s not how you hold it. If you aim the blade too high, you risk hurting them, but they won’t bleed out. You gotta hold it down; it gives you the best chance for a clean kill. Let me show you.” 

He wraps his hand around yours, guiding the knife in a way that does make sense–the new angle gives you a far better grip, and you realize that if you move even an inch, you risk cutting yourself.

“You know an awful lot about cutting throats, Barou.” 

He stiffens behind you. In that moment, something in the room shifts–as though the mask of sanity he was wearing, and has always worn, has slipped off to reveal something far more dangerous.

Shoei’s lips press against the shell of your ear, and his husky purr reverberates through your very bones. 

“Maybe a little.” 

You feel his other hand travel to your hip as he removes the knife from your palm and holds it in front of your face. It doesn’t exactly feel like a threat, but just as much as Shoei’s pulse beats slow in high-stress situations, so does yours because you’ve always been a bit different, too.

Your phone still in your hand feels like lead, heavy but useless, as he pulls it from your grip and tosses it to the couch. 

“I don’t think you understand how much I like my freedom, Y/N. I don’t think you understand how important it is to me that you appreciate the sanctity of our relationship and not make any assumptions about what I have–or haven’t done–before.” He brings the knife closer to your lips, smearing the blood across them as if you’re wearing candy-apple red lipstick.

“Discretion is my specialty,” you whisper, tongue darting out to taste the blood.

Shoei groans, his large frame pressing into you as he guides you to the arm of his couch, bending you over and splaying a large hand across the small of your back. 

“You’ve always been so good to me. Why have we never…?” As he speaks, he’s hiking up your skirt. His touch feels strangely reverent, and you aren’t sure if it’s because of the nature of your relationship or because you now know way too much about each other. 

Shoei’s eyes narrow as he spots your underwear–a pesky barrier he plans to eliminate in the most efficient way he knows how. He brings the knife up to the cool cheeks of your ass, dragging the tip of the blade against your skin and leaving red whelps that threaten to bleed if he uses a bit more pressure.

“We’ve never fucked because you’re kind of a dick.”

“True,” he mumbles as he pulls the fabric of your panties and cuts through them until the garment sits against your skin but no longer covering any inch of you that matters. 

You let out a breathy moan as you can feel the tip of his cock nudging against the ring of your cunt, stretching you out deliciously until he snaps his hips, fully sheathing himself into your heat. His hand reaches under you as he presses at your pelvis, feeling where he can feel himself pushing inside of you.

He’s not gentle as he takes you, but you don’t need him to be. You want him as he is: perfect, godly, everything. 

“You’re not going to scream? Most people would call me inhuman for what I’ve done.”

“No, I actually think you’re more in touch with your humanity than you think, Barou. You’re just capable of doing what others can’t because you’re a God.”

And you’re not just saying that because there’s an alleged–because innocent until proven guilty and all that jazz–serial killer deep in your guts right now. You’ve known it for some time–that Shoei is everything that he says he is–a king, a God, the main character in everyone’s world, including yours.

You can’t take your eyes off the body on the floor as Shoei guides your hips in the way he likes–angling his own to drag his cock against your walls, verbally praising your cunt for how she’s gripping him. “You’re a fucking freak. You’re so fucking wet; I’m not going to last long with her sucking me off like this.”

His fingers thread through your hair, forcing your head back so he can look at your face as he molds your cunt into the shape of his cock. “Fuck, look at you taking care of me like a good little sports agent.” He throws his head back with a low, guttural moan, lost in the feeling of you and how you make him feel–powerful.

His thighs tense, his abs flexing as he gets closer to the edge, but at the last minute, he pulls out warm thick ropes of his cum, shooting onto your ass. After a few low groans, he smacks your ass and tucks himself back in his pants.

“So, you going to call those people to come and fix this?”

“Yeah,” you say as you stand up, straightening yourself out. “But I’m going to need another bonus for that.”

@interstellar-inn @pixelcafe-network @hayatoseyepatch

[quehecke]

ily barou my glorious king 💕

[someprettyname]

SHIT SHIT SHIT.

I'm noticing it only now...

....Barou is looking kinda.... Yeah.

SHIT.

He's looking good in the U20 uniform.

Fuuuuuck. How did I not notice this before.