#they were like if we put a cami under her tank it makes the rest of the outfit okay 🥺

[diechip]

It’s over…….

[gyusfavlibra]

YOU MAY NOT COPY OR REPOST MY WORK ANYWHERE!!!

This is a imagine I made on my Wattpad that hasn't been released yet so I posted it here. @ivnasfilm is my wattpad btw!

Warnings: Fluff? Smut? Sexual interactions, language, cockblocking, Ward Cameron mentions, grinding, mentions of sex

••••

"Are your parents home?"

"No, they're at Thornton's for a couple hours."

"Sarah and Wheezie, too?"

"Yes," Rafe replied to his questioning girlfriend, Y/n. The duo have been dating for a year now. Y/n has been inside Rafe's house many times. She met him through her brother Kelce. He was pretty worried about it at first, but eventually Kelce would've had to get over it because Y/n is 18. She's a legal adult. She can do whatever the hell she wants.

They got closer by attending parties together, spending days at the country club, golf course. Sometimes even just sitting and talking at the beach. It was more than enough for both of them and they enjoyed it all. They made it official by attending Midsummers together. It was a pretty big deal to them since every single Kook would now know that Rafe Cameron officially had a girlfriend.

The first time she met Sarah, they hit it off pretty well. Did sleepovers, painted nails, read magazines about hot guys. Basically girly stuff. Even took fun trips on the Cameron's boat to get away from their boyfriends. They became best friends and truly loved each other's company.

Just like Rafe enjoyed Y/n's.

"Sooo, can I come inside?"

He leant his head back against the car seat. Staring at the girl who was sitting in the driver side of her vehicle. "Can you come inside?"

"Yeah, or- do you want me to?"

The mood in the car lightened as their talk became less questioning and more seductive. Y/n leaning over the center console, her breath hitting Rafe's face in all the ways he likes. Her hand reached over, brushing against his thigh.

"Do I even have to answer that?"

She shook her head at the Cameron before connecting their lips. Softly and gentle was how it was starting off, before Rafe placed his hand onto the zipper of her jeans.

"Not in here. Let's go inside."

"Okay."

The couple exited the car, Y/n making sure to lock it, and headed inside the house. Rafe using his own key to get indoors. They ran up the steps to Rafe's room, shutting the door behind them. Y/n removed her maroon crew neck, sitting herself on Rafe's bed as he removed his t-shirt.

He gently pushed her down sliding his heavier body between her legs. Leaving little kisses from her chest and up. He knew better than to give her hickeys on the neck because of Kelce so he avoided that.

His hand ran itself up and down her waist, giving it a small squeeze. They liked skin pressure. Tension. They began moving upwards, pushing under her cami top. A cropped tank that protected your breast if you didn't want to wear a bra. She tend to wear them often when around Rafe for these special purposes. And today, she just got lucky.

His thumb grazed the side of her breast. "Can I take this off?"

"Mhm."

"Hey Rafe, I need a the U-"

Before he could continue, Wheezie came barging through the door. Covering her eyes. Rafe groaned at the fact that his sister didn't knock. Knowing whenever the door is closed, you knocked.

"Wheezie, we talked about this-"

"I know. I'm sorry. I keep forgetting," she sighed. "Hi, Y/n."

"Hi, Wheez."

"What do you need? Why aren't you at dinner with dad and Sarah?"

"Halfway through the dinner, Rose threw up because Topper's parents made snail and she didn't like it. She made an excuse saying she was probably coming down with the flu. So we came back early."

"What did the Thornton's say?" Y/n asked. Intrigued by this hilarious story as Rafe put back on his shirt.

"Nothing. Just that we should head home just incase they could catch whatever it was."

"That sounds awesome!"

"Yeah, I know. Hey, wanna see the video."

"Oh absolutely," Y/n exclaimed, getting up from Rafe's bed. He sighed as he watched the two girls laugh at the gross vomiting. Althought part of him was glad Y/n was getting along with his little sister. "That's freaking gross. Cool. Like really cool. But gross."

"Yeah, i'm gonna upload it to my Instagram."

"Tag me?"

"Obviously."

"Awesome! Thanks."

Rafe stood. "So, what did you need?"

"I need the USB cord to connect my phone and laptop to upload the video in a file just in case dad and Rose make me take it down."

He huffed out his breath, walking over to his desk. He opened the top drawer, pulling out a mid-length white cord, handing it to his sister. She thanked him and tried to leave, but Rafe stopped her at the doorway. Death glaring her.

"I'm not gonna tell anyone. Chill out. Not like I wanna talk about it and picture it again."

"We weren't doing anything."

"I may be young, but I'm not stupid."

"She's got a point," Y/n agreed. Wheezie fist bumped her and left. Rafe shutting the door behind her. He turned to Y/n who just shrugged at the annoyed boyfriend of hers.

He smiled as he walked up to her, pushing his face close to hers. "Now, where were we?"

"You tell me."

He chuckled, the vibration against her lips sending chills down her whole body. He kissed her seductively like he did once before. This time Y/n pushed Rafe down onto the large bed, enough room for her to switch that position.

Her hands rested on his ribs as she grinded her clothed area against his member. A moan escaped her lips as a huff left his. The jeans in between them horrifying this exciting interaction.

She swayed her tongue and lips against his neck. His eyes rolling to the back of his head, letting out a grunt. She scooted down a few inches so she wasn't sitting directly on top of his belt.

"God, these pants got to go."

"So do yours."

She undid the strap of his waistline. Next thing was unbuckling his pants. She undid the button that lied above the zipper before grabbing the loose metal tab, pulling it down it's line.

"Rafe, dad needs you downsta- HOLY SHIT!"

"OH MY GOD," he groaned out loud. Y/n pushed herself off the dirty blonde, landing beside him. Sarah stood in the doorway, eyes covered, laughing.

"Stop laughing."

"You guys were totally about to do it," she sang as she pointed between them.

"Shut up, Sarah."

"Dad wants you. Said something about the golf course or country club. One of the two. I don't know," she shrugged as she sat beside Y/n. Rafe looked to his girlfriend.

"I'll be right back. You," he pointed to Sarah. "Be gone before i'm back."

"Will do, dickeroo."

Rafe left downstairs as Sarah turned to Y/n and smiled with eyebrows raised. "What are you staring at?"

"Uh...you. Were you guys about to have sex? Since when?"

"Well our first time together was months ago. Like 3 or 4."

"When we were first friends, you said you never planned on having it until you're married. Since when has that changed?"

She shrugged. "Since I met Rafe."

"You guys are too adorable. Well you, not him. Can't stand him."

"Yeah, I know. Sometimes I can't stand Kelce. I wanna kill him."

"Yeah, well let me get going before Rafe tries to kill me." (No pun intended)

She hugged Y/n before leaving the room, just as Rafe walked back in. This time locking the door before shutting it. "That is the last interruption for the night. I told everyone I was going to bed."

"Well, good cause I am trying to get my freak on," she laughed as he jumped back onto of her. Finishing what they've been trying to start.

Thanks for reading!!!

[lavenderslotus]

Macarons and Chill

My first BakuCamie fic!! Hope you guys enjoy 🤗 Also cross posted on FF.N and AO3!

Summary: In which Bakugo and Camie try to make macarons in the midst of a global pandemic. 

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“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kick you out of my goddamn apartment, woman.” Bakugo snarls as he nearly rips the door off its hinges.

Camie merely blinks, clearly nonplussed by his tone. “Chill, Bakubae. I’m not even inside yet. Were you trying to hide your porn stash?”

“Can’t you see I’m in the fucking middle of something?!” Bakugo ignores her obvious jibe.

It’s only then Camie registers his uncharacteristically disheveled appearance. Donned in a black tank top that was smeared with flour and an orange Ground Zero apron that hung haphazardly on his hips, Bakugo looks positively dripping with annoyance. His already unkempt hair is matted in several different directions and if Camie didn't know any better, she would say that whatever he was attempting to bake was currently besting him.

Despite the atmosphere of the room, Camie pushes her way around Bakugo and flounces into the living room. “Ojamashimasu!” She sings as she kicks off her shoes in a hurry and practically runs into the kitchen.

“Fuck me, right?” Bakugo mutters as he bends down to fix her shoes so that they were perfectly aligned. She had been appearing more times on his doorstep than he cared for during this whole quarantine bullshit yet still didn’t have the decency to pick up after herself. “Oi, get out the hell out of my kitchen before you ruin shit!”

Camie turns around, already tugging on a bubblegum pink apron that Bakugo definitely does not keep around just for her. She juts out her lower lip. “I'm just trying to help out my favorite next-door neighbor.” She peers over at the bowl of whipped meringue on the kitchen counter. “Macarons, Bakubro? Do you have a death wish or something? Those are like, mad hard to bake, even for you!”

Bakugo resists the urge to thump her on the head. Instead, he settled for aggressively whisking the meringue once more, nearly ripping the appliance in two. “As if I’m going to be shown up by some shitty wannabe sandwiches. Tch.”

“Ehhhh? Is that so?” Camie tip-toes to place her chin on the shoulder that wasn’t vigorously moving with his stirring. Bakugo tries to ignore how close her cheek is to his, the soft plush nearly grazing him. “Well, no doubt they’ll be totally delish when you’re done! Anything I can do to help?”

Bakugo smirks, a cocky grin splitting his face. “Fuck yeah they will be. Go pick out the food coloring.” As Camie sashays away happily (“These are totes gonna be the prettiest macarons bae!”), he tries not to let his eyes linger. It’s like Camie intentionally picks clothes that loves her as much as she loves herself, because they cling to her figure like glue.

Their relationship was… Complicated. After they both graduated high school, her a year before him, Bakugo had no intention of keeping contact with anybody, save for maybe shitty hair. What was the point? He knew he’d see his former idiots of classmates and peers eventually. They all entered the same fucking industry; if anything, he had a feeling he’d them too often. It was only by chance that he and Camie wound up at the same agency, and it was even more of a twisted fate that he had happened to be assigned to live one door down from her. Which meant slowly but surely, Camie Utsushimi forcibly wedged her and her love for K-Pop into his life (and his apartment).

He didn’t know why she was so adamant on getting to know him. At first, he had thought it was just out of the pure convenience of living so close. He figured she would lay off after shutting her out a couple times. But goddamn, this woman was persistent. When she wanted something, she sure as hell knew how to get it. And he still didn’t know what it was she wanted from him. He never knew what she was thinking, for better or for worse.

“You know what’d be lit? If you had edible glitter.” Camie sighs wistfully as she lines up the bottles of food coloring. Bakugo grimaces at the array of pinks and purples but doesn’t say anything.

“What the fuck for?” Bakugo huffs as turned the bowl upside down. A smug expression flits his face when nothing falls out, a testament to the stiff peaks of the frosting.

Camie stares at him as if he had sprouted a tail. “Hell-oh! To decorate the macarons?! Jeez Bakubae, it’s like you have no eye for pretty things in life. No wonder you haven’t asked me out on a date yet.”

Then there was that. There always seemed to be something simmering between them, and it pissed Bakugo off to no end that he couldn’t figure out what the hell it was. Irritation? Sexual tension? Both? He didn’t know when she was serious or joking when she said shit like that.

Bakugo snorts to cover his inner turmoil and sticks his hand out. Camie wordlessly passes him a small bottle of food coloring. Without even looking at the color, his hand steadies as he carefully squeezes the gel into the meringue – bright pink, he discovers. Gross. “I told you to stop calling me that.”

“You already know I’m not gonna. Am I not your type?” Camie twirls a strand of her fawn-colored hair around her finger pensively. “You’re gonna die a virgin if you don’t hop on the dating scene, you know. Such a waste of a handsome face.”

“Fuck you.” Bakugo snaps as he stirs to incorporate the color. His grip is tight around the rubber spatula. “As if you have it any better, hag. You should stop hanging around this apartment if you want to put your money where your mouth is.”

Camie sighs contemplatively. “The hero life really doesn’t allow any time for dating, huh? We sure have it rough.” She cracks her knuckles and grins. “Not that we can go on dates or anything during this quarantine. I’m lucky I have you to bother, Bakuboo!”

“Yeah, so lucky.” Bakugo mumbles sarcastically under his breath. “Gimme that bowl.”

“But like seriously, what is your type fam?” Camie asks. Bakugo dumps the dry ingredients and begins to macaronage. “For a while, I totally thought you and Deku were gonna get it on.”

“Fuck no. Weak ass Deku wouldn’t be able to handle me, I’d rock his shit.” Bakugo scoffs. Camie lets out a delighted peal of laughter at that. “Besides, I ain’t gay. Can’t speak for him though.”

Camie raises a brow. “You do know that Deku and Uraraka-san are like, def canon right?”

Bakugo hates how he knows what ‘canon’ means because of her. He grunts. “I don’t give a shit. Hand me that piping bag and a tray, quick.”

“Don’t be like that Bakubae,” Camie chides as she bends over to reach for the baking trays stashed inside his oven. He averts his eyes at the way she juts her hips and arches her back. “You noticed it too, right? All our peers are like, getting it on. I’m banking on Todomomo next.”

Bakugo works quickly to transfer the macaron batter into the piping bag. The bright pink is an eyesore and he frowns. “Like I said, I don’t give a shit.”

“You’re totes gonna care when your options dwindle down to no one.” Camie taps her nails against the counter. “And you’re already picky as it is.”

Bakugo scoffs again as he rips out a sheet of parchment paper. It tears through the air like a record scratch. “How would you know that? I haven’t said shit. For all you know, I could have a secret fetish.”

“Do you?” Camie’s voice heightens with interest. Bakugo glares at her, but the curiosity in her face doesn’t waver.

“No, you sicko. Even if I did, it’s not like I’d tell you.” Bakugo begins to pipe the macarons onto the parchment paper in earnest.

“Everyone has their kinks,” Camie sing-songs. She walks two fingers up Bakugo’s arm and he would smack her arm away if he wasn’t already preoccupied. If each macaron wasn’t exactly 1½-inches, he was going to lose his shit. “It’s only a matter of time until I find out yours, bae.”

Bakugo pipes the last macaron onto the tray and tosses the piping bag. It tumbles away on the counter, smearing pink meringue everywhere. Great. He pretends not to notice her hand still resting on his upper bicep and rolls his eyes. “Good luck with that.”

“I bet you’re really into the whole power dynamics thing.” Bakugo chokes and Camie removes her hand to place both on her hips. “Y’know, all that sub and dom stuff. Kind of a mild kink if you ask me. Personally, I’m down for whatevs but idk, I think I draw the line at tentacles, not that I judge –”

“Yeah well, luckily no one fucking asked.” Bakugo barks as he airs out the bubbles in the batter by repeatedly slamming the baking tray onto the counter. Camie yanks the tray out of his hands and begins to tap the tray much more gently. He scowls and crosses his arms. “You know an awful lot about kinks for someone who doesn’t get laid.”

Camie winks and leans forward. She purposely pushes her cleavage together so that it spills over, her up-and-down ministrations of bumping the tray against the counter making them jiggle. Bakugo stubbornly doesn’t give her the satisfaction of looking down and meets her gaze dead-on. “How do you know I’m not getting laid?”

Bakugo feels an uncomfortable twist in his chest, but the sudden anger that floods him is almost unbearable. Camie? Having a fuck buddy? The thought stamps a hot iron brand of jealousy in his stomach. What the fuck? In an instant, he sees a vision of another pair of arms wrapped around Camie’s tiny waist, kissing her, tousling her hair. A throb of possessiveness goes through him. It’s what makes him snap, “Yeah fucking right. Why the fuck are you here and not with him then?”

“I mean, we are kinda in the middle of a global pandemic.” Camie drawls. She pushes back from the macaron tray. She cocks a head and her eyes rake his face. The tension that normally simmers between them at a tolerable five has knocked its way up to an insufferable ten. “’Sides, even if I had one, I’d rather be here.”

Bakugo deflates but only slightly. The crease between his eyebrows deepen and the feelings of anger, jealousy, and irritation still make him see red. “So you don’t have one.” He says it like a statement of verification rather than a question.

“No,” Camie shakes her head. She sounds a bit breathless. “I don’t.”

In two strides, Bakugo has her pinned against the wall. Camie’s eyes are wide as she takes in his narrowed ones, zeroing in on her like prey. Her arms are locked above her head, held by Bakugo’s, and he leans dangerously close. Their noses graze and Camie barely has a second to register just how long his eyelashes are when their mouths fuse together. Bakugo isn’t gentle but he sure as hell is an amazing kisser – Camie has to hold back a chuckle. He totes has to be the best at everything, huh? He claims it all, tongue sweeping and staking hold of everything that’s hers. She can hear the subliminal message being conveyed. Mine. Mine. Mine. His hands are greedy, falling from her wrists to touching her everywhere, gripping, pulling, pinching. She scrapes her hands along the hard muscle, equally as needy and lets him take and take.

“Bakugo,” Camie finally manages to gasp as he trails down her neck, sucking, biting, kissing. She can feel her skin puckering under his assault. “The macarons –”

“Fuck ‘em.” He grunts. “They need to chill for an hour anyway.”

Sorry Todomomo, Camie thinks to herself as she grins wildly. Looks like Bakucamie’s beat you to the punch.