Bakugou wants to murder her, but he’s shit out of luck.
For a ton of reasons. But mostly two. One, he’d go to prison — adults get locked up for life for lesser crimes. His friend being a nasty, fucking bitch is not a free pass to commit homicide. He should’ve planned for this — should’ve offed her before he turned eighteen, or even before he turned twenty, motherfucker.
And two, well, he actually doesn’t mind her special brand of freak. Usually. Except when she pulls shit like this — when she nudges her gross, bare fucking toes into his face like his mouth is her goddamn slipper. He has half a mind to bite her to teach her a lesson. Knowing what a demon she is, though, she’d probably get off on that.
Yikes. He ain’t bringing that shit into his own bedroom, thank you very much.
(Her own dorm is fair play, though.)
Bakugou weighs his options and makes his choice. He won’t do jail time for yanking her ankle outta his personal space, so he does just that with a growl. “If you stick your smelly ass foot in my face one more time, Camie, I’m gonna —“
Bakugou still grips her ankle as his expression sours. “What the fuck.”
On her back with her arms behind her head, she lounges like she’s on vacation from having some goddamn manners. Camie grins. Wriggles her toes, the rose-colored nails definitely trying to push all his buttons at once. Her big toe nudges against his bottom lip. “Y’know, bro. Sometimes you’re just minding your own business, and then your brain’s like — mmmmm sex, and you start to react to it?”
Of course he knows. But will he admit to it? Especially when there’s a fucking toe in his mouth? Absolutely never. “That’s weird.”
Her eyes narrow, but her smile remains. “Huh. What’s even weirder is that this yummy pussy could be yours if you just say the magic words.” Her toes wiggle again, persistently, and she drags them out of his lips and down along his neck. They’re cold, always so fucking cold.
It’s so disgusting. His dick throbs from it. “Magic words? The shit is that?”
Camie clicks her tongue, condescending as ever. “You know them, bottom boy. Just say it.”
It’d be so easy to off her now. Hide her body in the maintenance closet down the hall. Bakugou wouldn’t leave a trace — no fingerprints, no nothing. It’s like she’s angling to get murdered.
But a dead friend can’t keep up your 3 month long snap streak. Can’t wing woman you at frat parties. Can’t listen to you rant and rave about every little thing that pisses you off. Can’t maintain a friends with benefits thing if they’re a fucking corpse — well, yeah, they could, but that’s disgusting and more illegal than murder, and —
Bakugou should kick his own ass. Just say the words, dude — it’s free pussy. Free, good pussy. His stubbornness, though, knows no bounds. “You gonna ride me or what?”
Her toes curl into the fabric of his t-shirt, right over his heart. “Hmmm. Those ain’t them magic words, Katsuki. It’s more like — Camie, my sweet sexy best friend, please fuck my brains out.” Bakugou’ pretends to gag, and she only chuckles, tapping against his ribcage and matching his pulse. “Guess that’ll do, though.”
She sits upright, jumps to her feet, and immediately starts to strip. She doesn’t waste time. Never has, never will. Bakugou does the same with his own clothes, and snags a condom from the almost-empty box in his underwear drawer. He should be studying, doing homework, answering some stupid emails.
Ha. Like that will ever win out over getting his dick wet.
When he’s back in a crosslegged seat on his bed, underwear only, he rakes his eyes over Camie. Along the moles on her upper thighs, on her forearms. The stubbly leg hair she’s been too lazy to shave in the winter. Her mismatched bra and panties. Just the fact that she’s cupping her tits and smashing them up, higher than any push-up bra will ever do, because she knows how fucking simple his brain is. Bakugou feels himself twitch in interest. Damn.
“You love my tits.” She says, matter of factly. It’s a truthful statement. Because he does. Her chest is obnoxiously all over the place, just like the rest of her. “They’re just fat. It’s hysterical when you think about it for, like, two seconds.”
“Yeah, well, fucking is really only skin-slapping, and people go nuts for it.” Bakugou rolls his eyes, and gestures for her to climb into his lap. She lets go of her chest, and saunters to him, dropping her weight into him. “Shouldn’t you be worried about that philosophy exam you got tomorrow?”
“Shouldn’t you be nicer to someone who allows you to see her naked?” Camie snips back with a giggle, as she guides his hand to lie flat against the soft plush and dark hair low on her stomach. Unlike her feet, she’s burning up here. He strokes her tummy. “You’re so tender, bottom boy. You can get started whenever you grow a pair.”
“Fuck off.” He snarls, squeezing some of the pudge on her left hip. “I’m not gonna just shove my hand in your thong. I have class.”
“Class. Hm.” Camie gives no warning before she licks a wet stripe up his cheek. He’s about to shove her away, ridicule her for being nasty, but then her frigid fucking fingers are inside his boxer briefs and paw at his chub, and he definitely doesn’t squeak. Definitely doesn’t. “I ain’t got any of that.”
“Yeah, everyone already knows that.” Bakugou hisses, shirking away from the ice-cube esque touches on his junk. “Would it kill you to warm up your hands before?”
Camie shrugs, and makes no changes to her movements. Figures. Bakugou bites the inside of his cheek, refusing to let out any more pathetic sounds, as he enacts his revenge. Undoing her bra isn’t exactly revenge, and neither is pinching her nipples, but the reaction he gets is pretty gratifying. Camie giggles, certainly pleased, and presses her crotch hard into his thigh. Her panties are, true to her word, soaked, and the warm damp friction against his own skin feels, well, fucking awesome.
“Clean up on aisle five, am I right?” Bakugou snickers, and Camie responds with renewed laughter.
“It’s gonna take the big guns to take care of this mess.” She speaks into his sternum as her fist takes him fully into her grip, much warmer now, and starts stroking him to full hardness. Bakugou exhales, slowly. This is so much better.
He twists her nipples again, and she makes an oomph noise. “I’m up for the challenge.”
“Aww, that’s cute. Thinking I’m gonna let you do shit.” He groans as her hand squeezes him, way too tight for how soft he still is.
She’s evil. Pure evil. Taking advantage of when his guard’s down, due to his anger and dick sensitivity, and shoves him to lie back on his own bed. The gall. Her hips straddle his, and she leans down, her bare tits dragging along his abs until they’re level with his hips. Camie sticks her tongue out, and licks his head through his underwear. Bakugou whines.
Fuck this girl.
She’s not finished yet. She even pops his still-clothed head into her mouth, and sucks. The sensation isn’t enough, but it’s something, and Bakugou’s lips wobble from trying to keep silent. She sucks harder, her smart mouth hot and wet and prodding him just right. Her manicured fingers play with his balls, scratching his inner thighs. He twitches, feeling himself firm up until he’s ready and stiff and really pitching some embarrassing-goddamn tent in his own boxer briefs.
Camie tugs down the waistband, finally, and whistles.
“It’s all dribbly.” She croons, the tip of her nail tracing over the precum on his slit. God. “It’s so funny looking.”
“You went through sex ed, right?” Bakugou teases, preoccupying his mouth with speech so no moans can slip through. That plan half-works.
“Mhm.” She hums, brushing her blonde fringe out of her face. “Graduated at the top of my class.”
Bakugou frowns. “Idiot, it doesn’t work like that — uhhh fuck, Camie.”
Her throat is already around him, and she starts to bob petulantly, like a bratty kid. That’s exactly what she is. A brat, after all.
Her suction, speed and grip are all very good. Bakugou grips the pillow at his head, and moans, letting himself let go for once. Because school was rough this week, and to be honest, he deserves head. Deserves to enjoy it. He keeps his hips planted as she works him. Unlike her, he’s at least courteous. Too courteous maybe — especially since he feels compelled to grab a scalpful of her bleached hair, and play with it as she plays with him. Twisting locks around his finger, pulling it gently at the root, massaging over her whole head as he moans her encouragement. Curses out suggestions, digs his heels into his mattress.
She flips him off with her mouth full, her glossy pink lips stretched around the perimeter of his fat dick.
Yeah, he’s way too nice.
Eventually, she pulls off with a pop, and wipes her mouth with her wrist. Precum, spit, and lipgloss smear off on her own skin. “Wrap it for me while I get ready.”
Bakugou smirks, condom already in hand. “You got it, princess.”
She smacks his thigh, batting her eyes. “That’s queen to you, bottom boy.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
The condom’s on his dick, and Camie’s thong is flung carelessly away to join their other clothes. She sidles back onto his hips, angling herself so they’re in line together. Her pussy feels so warm above him. He can see her wetness sticky and thick along her slit, her soft pubic hair.
“You good?” She asks, stroking this hipbones.
“When am I not?”
Camie grins. She opens her mouth, and Bakugou expects her to, y’know, speak like a normal fucking human being. But instead, that gremlin burps before sitting down balls deep on his prick.
“Holy shit.” Bakugou growls, momentarily both livid and pleasure-high from the penetration. “You’re such a freak.” The worst (or best) part about it all is that he slipped in with barely any resistance. Camie’s a fucking honey pot, all right.
She’s so soft and gooey and burning him alive. The angle, the depth — Yummy is the best adjective for her pussy.
“You want me to burp while I’m railing you?” She squints, and drags her nails along his ribs, his abs. She swivels her hips a bit, and Bakugou sucks in a breath through his mouth. God. All of her weight on him, just the fact that he’s so deep in her. He feels everything. She must, too. He rocks into her, and just that bit of movement has him arching his head back.
“So. Get over it, then.” She lifts her arms to tie her hair up in a high ponytail, securing it out of her face with an elastic from her wrist. Once she’s satisfied, swishing it around just because she wants to, Camie cements her hands into his chest, shoots him a smoldering look before she gets to work.
Camie is too good at sex, and she fucking knows it. She knows how to squeeze her insides like a vice as she bumps her butt down, how to arch her body back just when the tip of his cock is in her. How to shallow thrust a few times before taking him all the way in. Her rhythm works for both of them. It’s not selfish — Bakugou gets the depth, she gets the angle, and they both die a little from the friction. It’s so good.
“Fuck.” Bakugou groans, her hand slipping behind her ass to trace his balls, his perineum.
“That’s what we’re doing, yes.”
She can never decide where to put her hands. They skirt around his thighs, his sides, his nipples, his fucking balls. Not that Bakugou is complaining, he just notices. It’s indecisive and greedy — Camie wants everything. She wants to get good grades and have fun and be in every single student organization on campus. And, of course, she wants to rock Bakugou’s world in every way she can imagine. She wants to make him tremble, make him shoot his load just right, but of course, not until she gives him the green light.
Bakugou never will say it, but he loves that about her. Her silliness, her confidence, her controlling nature. He’s blessed and lucky as shit to be able to get fucked by her, that’s for sure.
He cups her tits, and holds them, massages them, as she bounces on him. Her skin sheens with sweat, grows slippery from all the exertion, but she’s not getting tired. She smiles down at him, eyes blown wide from dominance and her own pleasure and just the fact that she’s having fun. When they fuck, it’s fun. Nothing in the world except for their own little game. Bakugou twists her nipples, and she chirps loudly, so unlike a porn star moan. It’s all guttural and giggly. And no porn star would ever say to their co-star fucking loser, if you don’t start touching my clit I’ll burp in your mouth.
“Were you raised in a barn?” Bakugou grunts, but he listens to her. His fingers roll her clit around, all moist and noisy in how wet it is. Camie bites her lip and tosses her head back, laughing
“My neighbors probably hate me.”
“They’re just jealous.” Her breathing is different, deeper, open-mouth breaths. The air around her vibrates. “They’re not fucking as good as we are.”
“They better not be.” Bakugou scrunches his face up. “They’re twins.”
That apparently is the wrong thing to say.
Camie cackles. She stops swirling her hips, and crumples in on herself, her body shaking from the force of her laughter. Bakugou feels her giggles through his dick, and to be honest, it’s not terrible. She’s crying now, wiping away the tears, her face so flushed and so — well, pretty. Camie’s so pretty. She laughs at stupid things and cares about little animals on the sidewalk and laughs during sex.
Bakugou loves her, and she loves him too, in their own special, silly ways
“Incest isn’t funny, you sicko.” He teases, poking her nose.
She nips his finger, still shaking with leftover giggles. “I know. But — you had some really golden comedic timing there, bucko.”
He rolls his eyes, sliding his palms down to grab her waist, tapping the moles cascading along her oblique. “Did you laugh your orgasm away, or —?”
She snorts, and takes hold on his thighs, leaning back. It’s a power pose, if he’s ever seen one. “I might still be able to manage something.”
“We’ll see about that.”
Camie’s new pace is a lot more jerky, more jiggly. She’s fucking him, her body rolling with each downward thrust. She squeezes his thighs when his dick hits a good spot in her — which is very frequently, if going by her constantly parted lips and fluttery pussy. He’s back to rolling her cit around, downright filthy squelches accompanying their skin slapping, bed squeaking. It’s different now, almost desperate.
Curses roll off her tongue. Little fucks and shit, that’s good comments eke from her mouth, weak white noise. Bakugou helps guide her, trying to take some of the effort away, fucking his hips up to meet her, planting his feet to get deeper, harder. She bites her lip. She likes it.
Bakugou knows he’s close. Closer than she is. It’s always like this, but he’d rather not have to eat her out feeling like a loser (again). His fingers speed up, rubbing her swollen clit, trying to force her down so his prick thumps over and over again against her g-spot. Making her sweat and twist and ache so good until she snaps.
Camie’s face tilts down, eyes shut, as her breathing turns harsh. Her rhythm is gone to shit, and she’s so erratic in the way she sits, rocks him in and out. She’s on the edge, right there.
Bakugou wants to flip her over, fuck her into the mattress, but he lets her wiggle against him until that wiggling sets her off. She’d kick his ass if he took that away from her — that victory.
And he’s glad he lets her do it, too. She comes like that, in her own Camie way.
Her shoulders hunch and her body tightens, freezes, and the softest squeak leaves her. It sounds so weak, so happy. Camie’s hyperventilating through her nose, humping him so softly as her insides turn to goo around him. His hips, his crotch, feel so sticky with all that extra honey. He’s heard her scream plenty of times, but this one, this orgasm seems gentle, but just as good. Her fingers keep clenching into fists, digging them into his shoulders.
Her arms eventually get all jelly like, and she kinda slumps forward, panting against his slick, flushed chest. Her face is sticky against his skin, but he doesn’t care. He plays with her hair, rubbing her back, as tiny, pleased moans slip from her with her breath.
“You sound like a mouse.” He jokes, tracing her earlobe with his thumb.
“And you sound like an asshole.”
“Fair.” He smirks, and starts soothing her back. “So, you gonna let me come, or what?”
Camie shrugs. “Do you deserve it?”
Bakugou blinks. “Of fucking course I do. Two way street, dude.”
“Good answer.” She slips off him, and gets on her hands, and knees, wiggling her booty in his face. Bakugou’s balls tighten — her pussy is so open, so red and slick and — his dick is going back in there. Fuuuck. “Look at your reward. You can fuck me the way you want.”
Bakugou rolls his eyes, not that she can see. “Weirdo.”
“Bottom boy.” She counters, as he grips her shoulder and hip with shaky hands, and slides into her in one stroke. “Ah, fuck. That’s right — right there.”
“That’s right.” He parrots, pace already brutal, slapping her ass back against him, loving how her ass jiggles with the impact. “Bottom boy’s gonna wreck your shit.”
“You won’t last a minute.” She huffs, looking back over her shoulder, frizzy blonde fly-aways framing her face. “I bet my life on it. I’m serious.”
“Have fun losing, idiot.” He growls, yanking her ponytail back.
But, the universe ain’t so kind. To him, anyway.
It’s almost like the universe is getting off on his misery. Bakugou’s guts suddenly seize up, his orgasm making him its bitch and he yelps, stuttering about like a virgin, barely inside her for thirty seconds before creaming himself.
“Wow.” She flips her ponytail, staring at his blissed out, horrified face. “That’s embarrassing.”
Bakugou wants to kill her. But first, he’s got to take care of himself. Because, shit, he doesn’t deserve to see the light of day after making such a fool out of himself.
And in front of her, too? Forget about it. He's as good as dead.