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kunigmis · 7 months

Text

to strike again

bachira meguru x female!reader

synopsis: here’s to second times being the charm! after your messy “mishap” with bachira in a changing room at victoria’s secret, you’re a bit nervous around him… it’s only due time when you realize he’s a friend with a nasty little secret.

content warnings: minors do not interact! all characters are in their 20s, mentions of stalking(?) once, usage of the petname baby and pretty, name calling (he calls you slut), fingering, cum eating, oral (female!receiving), obsessive behavior, unprotected sex, non-con recording, hint at “sharing pussy” (he suggests isagi would like a turn), panty thief!bachira strikes again…

notes: this is a continuation of my previous bachira story, gross and grimy!! and a response to this anon <33 i’m sorry to say i didn’t end up writing it in the changing room, and that it’s in a different setting, but i hope it was still tasty… ૮ › ༝ ‹ ྀིა

AFTER YOU GOT DOWN and dirty with bachira in a changing room at victoria’s secret, you’d become a bit nervous around him. it’s not that you were upset with him or anything, no, you were guilty of not stopping him or pushing him away. so, you didn’t really have the right to be upset. you were just overwhelmed with the new emotions.

why did he have to go and do that? you were fine with the way the two of you were before! he was your friend, your best friend, and you’re sure you could’ve gone without knowing how his dick felt; all hard and hot inside—wait, that’s not the point! the point is, bachira meguru was your best friend. you didn’t want to cross that line with him.

well, it’s a bit too late for that now.

so, you went on and tried to act as if it didn’t happen; you tried to act as if he hadn’t seen your naked body, skin on full display; you tried to act as if he didn’t fuck you against the mirror in a victoria secret’s changing room; and, you really tried to act as if you didn’t want to do it again.

the thought plagued you. it was sickening how often you thought about it, and how often you got off to the thought of it: a hand tucked between your legs, fingers spreading your slick all over your pussy before thrusting a vibrator into your pussy. you arched at the feeling, full yet not full enough—not as full as bachira made you. you tried to imagine it was his dick and not a hot pink toy moving in and out of you, having your clit ache at the need for stimulation—oh, how would his mouth feel? would he suck your clit like he meant it? dip his tongue into your cunt and eat you out like he was starved? makeout with your pussy and shove two fingers into you and scissor you until you cried? fuck, you really needed to stop thinking so much.

you were sick and nasty, and wondered how you’d face him day after day. how did you do that before? did you talk with a smile and a light chuckle to your tone? did you stand a hands-length away or right on his arm? God! you couldn’t remember with how gooey your brain was at the thought of him.

you almost accomplished going on like nothing happened, too. you were going strong in keeping yourself calm, hands tucked neatly in your lap as you crossed your legs and sat across from bachira at lunch. doing that to keep yourself from getting the seat wet, right? bachira sat across from you, all smiles and laughs, joking about something isagi did during practice the other day. he was so info his own world that he didn’t even notice how just being near him had you feeling knots.

or so you thought.

“you look a little flushed, baby,” you jump at the petname, head whipping around to see if anyone heard, but freeze when thick fingers cup your jaw and give your cheeks a squeeze once you’re facing bachira. “i might get the wrong idea.”

fuck, he noticed. bachira had always been witty, maybe not too smart, but he was able to catch an emotion with just the look of an eye. he could read people better than he could books, he much preferred them over the assortment of words on paper. you happened to be one of his favorite reads, and he was reading you all too easily right now. you didn’t even notice him tilting his head until you were at a loss for air, “or is that what you want me to get?”

and, you don’t know what takes you over, but the look on bachira’s face is so smug and hot that it has your pussy crying to be filled and you letting out a moan rather carelessly for where you two are.

not a word is said after that, just the boundless chatter of the people at other tables. your head was hung by the time you finished your small display of arousal, not daring to look up and meet bachira’s eyes or the few that had heard your naughty noise. you’re so embarrassed you could cry, and you’re sure you will when in the safety of your home and warm bed.

“oh.” bachira’s voice is deep, has you clenching your legs together, and so strained you’re worried he’ll burst. “i definitely got it now.”

bachira had dragged you back to your apartment faster than he’d ever run on the field after that. you were stumbling behind him to his car, and you do it now when getting to your apartment. he doesn’t stop to ask for your keys, just peels up the “happy holidays!” sign hung from your door to snatch the spear key and hurriedly unlocks your door.

he’s ushering you in, quickly pocketing the key and locking the door behind the two of you. you’re about ready to muster up an apology, something to clear the air, when big hands are on your tits and groping harshly through your shirt.

you squeal at the sudden force and stumble into the wall behind you, hands coming to grip bachira’s wrists weakly. “h-hey—!”

“that was fucking sexy as hell,” his gravely tone shoots straight to your cunt as it’s spoken against your neck, a hot tongue meeting the point of your pulse before teeth come to scrape your skin fleetingly. you’re gasping into bachira’s hair as he sucks bruises into your flushed skin, glossy eyes watching as his fingers come and playfully unbutton your shirt.

he’s moving far too slow for the type of man he is, but you don’t dare to complain and show your neediness. you’re sure bachira is already aware of your desperation, with the slutty moan you let out at the table, and how your grip on his wrists loosens with each kiss and suckle he leaves.

“here i was thinking you’d gone and forgotten our little escapade,” if you hadn’t known better, you would’ve sworn bachira to be a lady killer; with his tongue like honey and words like sugared syrup, you’re sure he could have anyone he wanted. you’re surprised he brought it up, with how he’d acted just as you did, all dumb and like you two were just as chummy as before. he hadn’t mentioned anything about your hookup, but maybe that was because you hadn’t either. despite knowing how bachira was, it was too bad you didn’t know him to be a liar.

you go to speak, but find your tongue heavy in your mouth when bachira removes himself from your neck and begins a slow backward walk toward your couch. you pant, frown, and begin to follow him; he’s grinning with an inward chuckle, she really is like a puppy.

bachira lets himself fall when the back of his knees touch your couch cushions, bouncing with the force before he’s patting his lap. his fingers trace his thighs, silently teasing you. come sit, pretty, it’s your throne.

you’re swallowing whatever worries you had and clumsily shifting foot to foot, not daring to move until you’re given some other sort of sign. you’re not sure what it’ll be, but something just doesn’t feel right.

bachira smiles, a wide and wicked one, at your “predicament”, and holds a hand out for you to take. that’s the sign, you think, his fingers so long and eagerly curling in the manner of coaxing you. he seems to be taking his time getting you there, slowly, as if he’s toying with letting you believe he’ll do things as you’d like.

but, you can’t deny the ache between your legs. he’s just so pretty, eyes honeyed and looking at you so longingly, so sickeningly sweet, that you taste their honey on your tongue. you savor the taste.

even so, you’re hesitant, fingers twitching at your side before you’re wordlessly sliding them along the pads of bachira’s own. he’s delighted to see you give in, lips pursed in thought yet prepared for what he has to come. you’re nervous, he can tell, but you’re not pulling away.

“‘s too bad we had to take that one pair of panties back,” the black and yellow-haired male refers to the white ones from back then; the ones you had slid on in the changing room right before bachira and you made a mess of them. the employee who had gone to check the two of you out was madly red, and most likely disgusted at the indications of your events, and told you to leave before any purchases were made. you blush at the memory, “they were cute.”

you shudder when his other hand slides along the span of your thigh, toying with the hem of your skirt. drawing your bottom lip between your teeth, you eagerly watch as his long fingers dip below the fabric and make their way toward your inner thigh. bachira watches with eyes all too wide and all too knowing, as if he was looking through you and into the depths of your deepest parts. you want me, they scream, and yours give away that you do.

“w-we can always go get a n-new pair…” you don’t know why you stutter, with him having done nothing yet, but you still feel your cunt pooling with wetness. maybe you’ll need to get a new pair of the ones you wear now, too.

bachira raises a brow and smirks, cocking his head to the side as he frees his hand from your grasp to curl it around your back. he draws circles overtop your shirt, right over the clasp of your bra, “oh? is that you insinuating you want a repeat of last time's events?” he’s partially coy in the way he sounds, but lets his tongue loll out to lick a stripe up your jaw.

you jolt at the feeling, hands coming to fist his shirt at the shoulders. you want it off him, but you don’t think he’s going to let you strip him before he does you, “n-no, that’s not what i meant…” yet, you wonder if it was? with the way you lower yourself to his thigh and shift for some friction, creating more of a mess within your panties, you think you may just want that.

“‘mm, you’re a bad liar, baby,” bachira practically moans when he has the clasp of your bra snapping below your shirt, fingers skilled and itching to cop a feel. you wouldn’t resist—even if you wanted to, even if you began to realize you couldn’t go back to being just friends now—you wouldn’t. “give in, know you want t’…”

and, god, you do. so, you do, you give and give and give, and bachira takes; he takes your breath with a single move, tongue slipping between your teeth to eagerly swallow your being. you moan, close your eyes, and claw at bachira’s shirt once more. you hope he gets the message; you want his skin on yours; you want to be unbearable close to the point you feel like you’ll burn at the proximity.

the two of you break only to have clothes fly, bachira’s bare chest pressed to yours. he relishes in the way your nipples pebble against his skin, moans at the feeling, and drags you against his groin feverishly. “you’re so pretty, can’t wait t’ fuck you again…” the male sounds so love drunk, so out of it with the way his words slur, but he couldn’t be any further from that. he’s plotting, waiting for you to turn to putty, before he strikes.

a hand travels to your chest, index finger and thumb toying with one of your nipples. you arch into his palm, feel the heat of it against your tit. it causes your brains to turn to goo as you go mad. “meguru, please, i-i need you…” you’re too embarrassed to say more, but you hope he takes your request as is.

and, bachira sure does, mouthing at your neck and collarbone before his teeth come and take your nipple into his mouth. he sucks hard, tongue coming to swivel around the bud in a teasing dance. your eyes droop and watch his mouth makeout with your tit, hands running over his shoulders like a fascination. bachira’s right hand comes to toy with your panties below your skirt once more, two thick fingers drawing tight circles overtop your clothed clit.

you wobble at the sudden pressure, hips humping into his hand as bachira continues his ministrations. his eyes roll at your soft skin, mouth not letting up as he slides your panties to the side and dips his fingers within the wet heap between your thighs. “fuck, s’ wet for me. s’ hot…”

before you can mumble a response, you’re lurching when two fingers quickly enter you. there’s no warning, just a stretch and sudden fullness. you have tears at your lashline, lips wobbling with soft gasps as bachira thrusts his fingers in and out of you, agonizingly slow. he scissors his fingers, curls them, and presses them into your gummy walls. he’s mapping you out, ticking each little cranny within your pussy so that he’d be able to go at it with his eyes closed. he’s having too much fun just toying with you, but you’re too choked up to ask for more.

“look at you! what a slut!” bachira moves from your tit for a second to laugh, teeth grazing your skin teasingly to watch you jump, “once wasn’t enough, huh? you want to be fucked dumb, don’t you?” you’re not sure whether he really wants a response or not; and, besides, you’re sure he’d do just that no matter your answer. “i’ll give it to you. i will, i will… just want to savor this…”

a sudden movement happens and you’re on your back, head resting against a pillow of your couch as bachira situates his face between your legs. you stutter, hands shakily reaching to try and push him away. “w-wait, no—“

you’re feeble attempts make the dual hair colored male laugh, and you feel pathetic under his gaze. his eyes eat away at your being; he’s eating whatever doubt or shame or strength you have left to resist him left, he’s not going to let you get away from this. bachira had waited far too long for your one-time fuck to be your two’s only fuck.

bachira is nosing at your panties by the time he has your hands resting on his head. your skirt sits between the feel of his hair and the palm of your hands, hiding his devious actions from your line of sight. you’re glad for that, because you’re not sure you’d be able to last long with the naughty actions he was about to commit.

your nails scratch at bachira’s head through your skirt, causing him to shudder along your skin. his hands come to quickly tug at your panties, skillfully sliding them from below your skirt and off your legs. this time, you catch him pocket the cloth, and suddenly your stomach twists at a small thought: why’d he do that?

there’s no room for you to collect yourself and ask, though, as bachira is licking a long strip up your pussy the second your panties are off. he does so again, moaning into your cunt at just the first taste of you; you’re fisting at your skirt, meat of your thighs pressing into the sides of bachira’s head. he’s met with a sudden rush of heat, moving a hand to palm himself as his slurps and kisses your pussy like he’s in love with it.

“aah, p-please,” whether you’re going to ask him to stop or for more is a long-lost thought when his tongue wiggles its way into your cunt, the feeling is strange and searingly hot. you tug at your skirt, revealing bachira’s flushed and out-of-it face. you didn’t expect him to be so into it, but he’s making you feel all sorts of things.

“s’ good,” his eyes roll when he smacks his lips against your pussy. he’s not afraid to get messy with how he eats you out. one hand tugging his pants and boxers down to palm at his dick, the other kneading the meat of your thigh. his tongue lays flat against you, licking long and slow over and over again, having you twitching. it’s so good, but your clit aches and pulses, wanting the stimulation bachira’s mouth gives your opening.

so, you softly press at his head, angling his nose to brush your clit softly. you whine, lips slick with spit as you call out, “h-here, too.”

bachira is quick to nose your clit again, tongue not relenting it’s assault on your lips below. your head is fuzzy and full of nothing, so heavy that you lay it to the side and your eyes droop; you still maintain your gaze on his face, though, and pant when he moves his hand to slide two fingers into you. “want you t’ cum, please. please, baby, cum.”

his fingers curl into all the right places, thick and long and bringing you to places so high you fear you’ll fall. with his mouth sucking at your clit, tongue lapping you like a dog, and his fingers delving into your pussy with such harsh thrusts, you’re crying out his name and spilling on to his fingers in minutes.

there’s an audible gasp from bachira once he takes his mouth from you, fingers easing you from your high before he pulls them out. he watches your cum push from your pussy, moving it around with his fingers before he’s sucking the digits clean. bachira moans as he does so, eyes never leaving your face, even after he’s done and dipping down to eat the cum that leaks out of you.

“stop! f-fuck,” you squirm at the overstimulation, thighs trying to press together in an attempt at bringing him off you. but, he only does so when he’s finished, coming up to hover over you with a chin covered in spit and cum.

“as good as i remember, pretty,” he’s grinning as he speaks, big hands smoothing over your sides as you smile softly. your eyes move down, widening when you spot bachira’s cock sticking tall against his stomach. he’s big. despite having fucked before, you didn’t get an actual look at it last time due to your position. but, fuck, that was in you? “stare as you’d like. it’s all yours, baby.”

all yours. if you weren’t blushing before, now you are. bachira had just admitted to being yours—or, admitted his dick was yours. either way, something about the statement had you shamelessly reaching a hand out to stroke his reddening tip. “…mine?” you meekly look up at him, batting your lashes as you bring your bottom lip between your teeth. the male is panting, not at just your actions, but the way you look up at him. fuck, you really got to him.

“‘mm, ‘mm, all yours, yours,” his words are so airy and soft, voice tickling your ear when he comes to kiss it. “do what you want with it. what you want with me, pretty, i’m yours.”

there was something sweet about his words. the way he sounded might’ve helped, but the genuine emotion embedded in them had your eyes welling with tears. but, it almost felt like they were a binding spell of sorts. he spoke them, so sweet and softly, but they began to stick to your skin like an enchantment. i’m yours and you are mine.

a hand presses to the arm of the couch your head lays on, following it to the golden-eyed male above you. his eyes have this crazed look in them, one you recognized from when he’d play on the field. the look appeared when he’d sprint forward and snatch the ball after the whistle blew, he’d juggle and trick his way through his opponents without the ball even touching other cleats aside from his own, moving with him like it was teleporting across the field. it was a wild look that had slick pooling at your entrance before it gushed and made a mess, and bachira noticed it with a raise of his brow and a wicked grin.

“excited, huh?” he giggles and uses his other hand to angle his dick near your pussy. he tapped his fat tip against your clit a few times, grin only growing as he watched you jump and gasp with each pap, pap, pap, and practically purred deep within his chest. he ran it through your folds and gathered your slick, lubing himself up for a smooth entry. “me too, baby.”

in a fluid motion, he’s bottomed out into your pussy. his pelvis meets your clit and you mewl and throw your head back. your mouth hangs open in a long, silent moan as bachira begins a rhythm. he humps into your pussy, both hands now on your hips to bring you into him. you bounce with his thrusts, the slap of your ass and his balls like a melody of sin.

“fuck, missed this pussy,” bachira groans as his head falls forward to watch his dick pound into your gummy walls. your pussy flutters with his words, your stomach twisting and dancing in all sorts of emotional butterflies. you can’t decide if it’s the pleasure of his dick going in and out, or his admittance to missing your pussy that has you reacting in such a way. you assume it’s a mix of both, though. “y’take me so well, pretty.”

you cry when his thrusts speed up, pressing a hand to his abdomen to feel the clench of his abs. your nails draw across his skin, silly and sloppy little drawings, some are hearts, others are circles, and others are jumbled motions from the continuous bounce of your body. bachira’s nails dig into your hips, making a drawing of his own in the shape of crescent moons.

the pleasure is so good, bachira is so good, that you close your eyes as your head lolls back. you moan and mewl and pant as bachira keeps a steady rhythm, dick angled to hit the sweet spot deep within your pussy. it has you shaking, convulsing with pleasure as you taste your impending release on the tip of your tongue.

your hands move to steady yourself on the couch, bachira having begun to thrust into you with more vigor. you bounce more harshly, fear of falling from the couch beginning to weigh on your mind. you grasp the cushion below you and squeak when a hand pushes you into a higher arch, the angle now having you slightly bounce on his cock. your eyes cross below their lids and your lips wobble, the pleasure so good it’s brought you to tears. you cry out, bachira’s name slipping from your tongue so easily that it stirs your insides just right and causes you to realize your newfound infatuation for the male and his dick.

“s’good, fuck me s’good, pretty…” bachira slurs his words, eyes honed in on the bounce of your tits. his grin is still as wide as before, a heavy pool of saliva building in his mouth from the desire to feast on your being and your pleasure. you smile at his words and giggle a moan, thighs twitching as you begin to feel the metaphorical dam chip and patch away. “fuck, going to cum? yeah, cum, cum for me baby, want you to…”

his words have you cumming in waves and a loud moan, hands laid flat against bachira’s abdomen as he continues to thrust. his hips stutter and his cock twitches, it burns as it mushes your insides up. your pussy pulses and tingles, and you mumble a plea for him to stop, the overstimulation having your toes curl into the dips of his back. but, bachira moans and lets a glob of spit fall from his mouth to where his cock enters and exits you, thrusts so sloppy and short and sharp that his balls stick to your ass due to your release and sweat.

“baby, baby, fuck! cumming—! inside? inside, fuck yeah,” he’s talking to himself now, babbling in his fit of blinding pleasure as his cum spurts inside your pussy. you holt at the warmth and whine as he fucks his cum into you. you open blurry eyes to see bachira grinning like a madman, cheeks red and covered in sweat with his hair sticking to his forehead. you give a shaky smile and go to speak, but your words get swallowed right back down when you notice his phone pointed toward you with a light on. your stomach drops.

“fuck, you looked so hot baby. can’t wait to show this to isagi! bet he’d love a turn, yeah?”

#ੈ✩‧₊˚ ── nine #blue lock smut #blue lock #bllk smut #bllk #bachira meguru smut #bachira meguru #bachira meguru x reader #bachira x reader #bachira smut #bachira strikes again!! harder and hotter than before :lipbite:

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