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you like to sit outside on hot days. dressed in a bikini around the pool as you sunbathe. you usually have a book in your hand, pages open as you engross yourself in a world outside of reality. or you're sitting around in a bikini with a bowl full of mangos waiting to be devoured.

today, you're doing the ladder.

with the pool chair carefully adjusted, you soak in the heat as you grab your third mango, humming pleasantly as you bite at the skin and use your teeth to reveal the golden beauty inside. this habitual experience in the summer became one of your favorite pastimes whenever you'd see a bunch of ripen fruit resting on the ground, waiting to be gathered.

you'd wait until your designated mango bowl was filled with at least eight of them before you'd feast on the fruits. typically, on days like these your husband would be at work or finding refuge inside, but more and more often now he'd find himself seated next to you, pretending to be occupied in a book when in reality, all eyes were on you.

gnawing at the hairy seed on one mango, the juices drip down your cheek and your neck all the way to your chest, staining your white bikini top. and you can feel nanami's eyes on you all throughout. you giggle, finally glancing at the man as his coffee-colored eyes are now shamelessly staring.

"what's the matter?"

"oh, nothing," nanami shakes his head, glancing back at his book before you again. he closes it and swings his feet over to sit up straight, now directed right towards you. "i just love mango season."

you snort, rolling your eyes. "really? well, i never see you eating them."

"don't need to," he crosses his arms. "i'm enjoying enough of it right now."

"what──" just as you furrow your eyebrows, you snort in laughter. "oh, you sick dog."

he chuckles. "i'm glad you quickly got it."

kicking your foot out at him in jest, you giggle before feeling his large palm grab at your ankle. he leans forward to grab the edge of the seat and pull it closer to him. eyes widening as your heart starts to race, you're rendered speechless, only able to mutter out, "oh..."

dropping your ankle, he pulls you close to him, forcing you to forget the fruit and kiss him.

he doesn't care about your stained and sticky body, pulling you on top of him as your previously occupied hand goes to travel to the nape of his neck. his mouth is quick to travel and latch onto the sweet path of mango juice down to your cleavage. your sweet moans further stir his cock as he grinds against you, hands falling at your waist to feel more.

nanami pulls at the strings of your bikini bottoms before they fully loosen and you're exposed. grateful for the fencing around the property, he doesn't have to worry about prying neighbors. his tongue tickles your skin, making you giggle before he stops at the hump of your breasts.

your top is the next to be gone when he asks, "why eat the fruit when i can just get a taste it on you?"

completely bare on top of your husband, you press yourself against him and reach for the hem of his swimming trunks to explore undearneath. holding onto his girth, you pull it out and align it with your entrance. he breathes into your skin, "take it easy," as you sink down on his cock. mouth falling agape and eyes closing shut as you take in every inch, you feel nanami's mouth back on your skin when your eyes flutter open.

"yeah," you breathe. "i think i love mango season, too."

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caleb’s secret times affinity lvl 105…. OH LORD ALMIGHTY

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hi guys im back because im hornballs rn and i missed reading gojo smut and im 21 now and life has been kicking my ass but happy belated to me 😍😍😍

[gojoscinnamonroll]

⭑ THE OFFICE SIREN ⭑

   ⋆ the men of JJK are CEOs and you are their secretary ⋆

featuring: ⋆ geto ⋆ nanami ⋆ sukuna ⋆ toji ⋆ choso ⋆ shiu ⋆ hiromi and my favorite boy: ⋆ ino

content warning: smut, duh 😹 but specifically —  (geto) oral, m receiving, mean geto, spitting, he finishes on your face, (nanami) oral f receiving, (sukuna) breeding, (toji) (shiu) (hiromi) p in v, (choso) cockwarming, (ino) fingering [lmk if I missed anything important

minors dni, ageless blogs dni, blank blogs dni

⭑S. GETO.ᐟ The Idol

You thanked your lucky stars when Geto hired you as his secretary. You admired him for his professional prowess, how he was able to take struggling, bankrupt business and flip them back into successes almost overnight. He was known, revered, and feared among all the businessmen of Japan. More importantly, he was loved by you.

Geto could do without the admiration or love. All he needs from his employees is loyalty, respect and a little bit of fear. He thinks your crush on him is foolish. It amuses him that you’ll do anything for his approval. His most devout follower. As pious as you are beautiful. And you are beautiful. It’s about your only redeeming quality. You’re terrible at your job. If you were half as efficient as you were in love with Geto, you’d be the world’s best employee. But you can’t do anything completely right. He would’ve fired you ages ago if he didn’t like having you around to look at.

Sometimes he asks the impossible of you just so he can punish you. Maybe it’s not fair but fair is the last thing on his mind when it comes to you. Geto just likes to play with his food, toy with his pretty girl. Your brain isn’t so good for business but your mouth is perfect for his cock.

Every time you make a mistake, he makes you repent on your knees. If the worship you do at his desk counts for anything you’ll have a seat next to God in heaven.

Your latest mistake lands you back at Geto’s altar, bobbing your head up and down his dick nearly choking when he meets your mouth with a hard thrust.

“I really wish you hadn’t cancelled that meeting.” His hand holds the back of your head but not to be gentle, to force your mouth down further until your eyes water. You try to hum to keep from choking. “I only meant for you to push it back an hour for me.”

He leaves your mouth and tilts your head back. “Open.” When you do, he spits a generous amount onto your tongue and you don’t dare swallow it, already knowing what it’s for. Geto likes it sloppier than this when he’s upset. It makes him feel better to see your face ruined with drool and mascara stains.

“M’sorry,” You really are. “It won’t happen again.”

“I think it might.” Geto shoves himself back into your mouth without warning, it knocks the wind out of you but he doesn’t relent, holding your head steady in his hands for his cock. “Think you like having your mouth full of me. So far down your throat that you can barely breathe.”

You do. You don’t have to tell him that, he knows.

When Geto is close, he doesn’t reward you with any of those groans you love to hear when he’s near the edge. All you get is harsh exhales that convey just how pissed off he is before he pulls out and finishes on your pretty face. Streaked with tears, spit running down your chin and now his milky white cum all over your lips.

He smears it all over, tapping against your face with a sick grin.

“Do better tomorrow and maybe next time I’ll let you swallow.”

⭑K. NANAMI.ᐟ The Recluse

There are very few people Nanami trusts to help run his business.

As the CEO of a successful pastry shop with several hundred locations nationwide, it may seem a bit unnecessary to be as closed off as he is but Nanami believes that only he can do what he does as good as he does it. He has no time for the incompetence of others so the less people he interacts with the better. Less chance of encountering stupidity that way.

His ice cold exterior is nothing to your warm smile that melts him every time you come in for work. Nanami won’t leave his office for much else aside from you. Sometimes he makes excuses just to see you. Like calling you up to his office to change the ink cartridge in his printer because he just can’t seem to do it right.

When you politely show him how, for the umpteenth time, he thanks you with a series of sloppy wet kisses on your clit while two fingers fuck you stupid on top of his desk. He mumbles “Thank you, thank you, thank you..” into your pussy like a chant and you tell him that he’s more than welcome. That you’ll help him any time he needs in any way before your words trail off into nothing but moans and a spray of wetness against his chin. His tongue doesn’t stop even when you whine and try to push his head away.

“Nanami.” You cry, you don’t know what to do with how addicting it feels.

“Always so good to me.” Nanami kisses your clit one last time before he rubs your thighs in an effort to soothe you. You can tell he hasn’t quite had his fill because he’s quick to think of another reason to keep you in his office.

“You know, I think there was a problem with the WiFi on my computer too.” He mentions casually.

You lift your head with a tired but knowing grin. “I’ll take a look.”

The problem is simple and easy to fix. Probably because all he did was turn off the router and all you did was turn it back on, but he still showed his appreciation. In fact, Nanami spends the remainder of the afternoon hiding from the rest of the office between your legs.

He’s very thankful.

⭑R. SUKUNA.ᐟ The King

Sukuna built his company from the ground up ages ago with no help from anyone else. It’s his pride and joy. He puts all his time and effort into running it smoothly, ensuring that all his work isn’t for nothing.

So much time and effort that it’s left little room for romance, instead leaving Sukuna chronically single and even worse, childless. In the beginning, he was focused on getting his business off the ground so it didn’t bother him as much. These days though, his empire has grown and he has no one to share it with, making the loneliness he feels echo throughout all the different areas of his life. He needs a wife and he needs kids.

But it’s not like any woman that managed to get close enough to him could even handle his temperament anyway. Sukuna’s a beast and an asshole with all the appeal and charm of a venomous cobra. No, no one could handle him.

No one except you, his spitfire secretary that seems to take whatever Sukuna dishes out and throw it right back at him. It’s like you were engineered in a lab just for him, cut from the same prickly cloth. You’re bitchy and smart- mouthed and he loves that you don’t just bend to his will even though as your superior, you definitely should.

There will never be a woman as perfect for him as you and as soon as Sukuna realizes this, your only job becomes taking his cock in whatever position he puts you in. Bent over his desk, sitting in his lap while he works in his chair, up against the floor to ceiling windows of his high-rise office—wherever he can have you is where he’ll take you, filling you up until you drip with his seed multiple times a day.

It’s hard for you to be smart-mouthed and fire off those quips he loves so much when you’re too drunk off the feeling of his hot cum filling you to the brim.

Sukuna won’t let any of it go to waste either, he needs someone to pass the business down to after all. His thick fingers force it all back inside, shushing you when you whine from overstimulation. “You will be mine. And I will take care of you. I promise.”

When you finally give him his heir, he will make you his queen.

⭑F. TOJI.ᐟ The Sleaze

Toji is a gambling man at heart. It’s the one habit he just can’t seem to shake, even now as the founder and CEO of a popular sports betting app. If he ran the analytics, it’d probably say he was the number one user. Luckily for him, he has money to blow.

He’s flashy with it. Often buying rounds of drinks at the clubs, expensive designer clothes and cars, chartering jets when he has overseas trips. Everyone within a thousand mile radius must bask in his opulence with him.

Especially you. Your pay is grossly over inflated. That’s mainly because he doesn’t give you any real work to do. Any time you ask if he needs help, Toji’s response is usually something along the lines of “Don’t wanna confuse you with all these big numbers, Doll. Why don’t you just run out and get me a coffee?”

He just wants you to sit there and look pretty for him so Toji will often times stop by your desk and drop a few racks of money off on the condition that you use it on another one of those designer dresses he likes for you to wear. Or maybe a pair of heels for those gorgeous legs.

The next day, he’ll eagerly await your arrival, excited to see what you picked out and have you model it for him. His eyes bounce all over you, drinking you in before his lips curl into a smirk. “I could fuckin’ eat you right up, Doll.”

If it were anyone else, you’d report them for harassment. But with Toji, you can’t help but love the way his eyes rake over you like a pervert or the filthy things he says about your body when you wear those tight pencil skirts.  It’s flattering that you can capture his attention like this and make him run his unfiltered mouth.

Every time is the same, he’ll ruin your clothes when he calls you into his office near the end of the day to finally bury his cock into you like he’d been wanting to since you first showed up. “Drove me fuckin’ wild all day.” Toji grunts into your ear, balls slapping against your drooling cunt. “Wondering what color panties were covering this pretty pussy.”

“Mm, they were purple.” You mumble, clutching his bicep for stability.

“Yeah,” Toji chuckles at the fucked out expression you wear. “They were purple, Doll.”

When you finish, he’ll slide another wad of cash into your hands. “Get yourself somethin’ pretty for me to rip you out of next time, yeah?” And the cycle continues.

⭑K. CHOSO.ᐟ The Shadow

If Choso knew you would be the perfect fucking secretary, he never would’ve hired you to begin with.

It makes him sick how quickly he became attached to you, the perfume you always wear, the sound of your voice greeting him in the morning—hell, even your handwriting on the sticky note reminders that you leave all around his office.

—Lunch is in the fridge :)

—Meeting at 3 PM <3 

—Don’t work too hard!!

Choso keeps every single one. It’s pathetic.

He’s like a little puppy with separation anxiety that can’t be left home alone. If you aren’t somewhere in his immediate line of sight or close enough for him to reach out and touch, his body is wrought with a debilitating anxiety that keeps him from even being able to think properly, let alone get any work done. Choso might actually die if you ever take a sick day or a long vacation.

His solution is hovering around you as you move throughout the building and having you work inside of his office with your desk a few steps away from his. Though, you never remain there for long. Pretty soon, you feel his puppy dog eyes staring a hole into your forehead and when you look up, he’s pouting at you like he always does when he wants you near.

“Cho, I have work to do.” You sigh behind your computer screen. He knows, he just doesn’t care.

“Please, I can’t focus.” Choso sounds so needy that it nearly breaks your heart in two. You give in, like you always do, striding over to his side of the office and sitting in his lap when he slides back in his chair from his desk. You’ve never been able to tell him no and mean it.

He rucks up the fabric of your skirt until it rests on your hips and slips your panties to one side so he can sit you on his aching cock. The moment he pushes past the folds of your pussy he whimpers. Choso needs this. He needs you. The way his head clears up is instantaneous. The weight of your body on top of him and your breathless moans in his ear keep Choso grounded.

He keeps you there for the remainder of the day, changing your position every few hours but staying firmly nestled inside you. When you get a little fidgety, his arms slide underneath your thighs to hold your ass in his hands and bounce you in his lap just a little.

“If you ever fucking leave me,” He whispers against your neck, dangerously calm. “I swear I’ll go crazy.”

You just giggle and peck his forehead. “You’re already crazy.”

Choso captures your lips in a passionate kiss that makes you clench around him when he bites your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.

“I’ll go crazier.”

⭑K. SHIU.ᐟ The Work Husband

Neither you nor Shiu knows how it happened, it just did. You came into his PR agency hoping to find a job to hold you over and then Shiu hired you as his secretary slash personal assistant. Somewhere along the line, you two just became close.

A lingering hand on the small of your back when he passes by here, a muffin left on his desk by you there. Not to mention all of the pet names Shiu drowns you in.

—How are you today, Honey? — I’m so proud of you, Baby. — Did you need anything, Sweetheart? — Thank you for the coffee, Angel.

You busy, Princess? He’ll purr it in your ear before asking for a favor and it makes you melt enough to agree to anything. You don’t mind picking up his dry cleaning do you? It’s just so far out of his way... And you definitely don’t mind coming up to his office for a private meeting, right?

Being both his secretary and assistant joins you two at the hip. You’re so inseparable that the other employees at the agency jokingly call you husband and wife. They couldn’t be more right. You bicker like an old married couple and you fuck like newlyweds on a honeymoon all over his office whenever he gets a chance between meetings. Sometimes you do both at the same time like when the work schedule for the next week releases and Shiu has you working on your birthday.

“You’re so mm,” You hold Shiu’s face in your hands while he sucks the sweet spot on your neck. “So fuckin’ annoying. I called off that day you asshole.”

“I know, I’m the worst aren’t I?” He mocks you with a pout, while you try to stay mad at him. It’s hard to do with your legs wrapped around his hips as his dick pistons  inside you and his chest pins you upright against the wall. “Paying you so well and taking such good care of you. Fucking you so good that your eyes roll back. I’m just so terrible, baby.”

“Don’t forget selfish.” You manage to get out before a choked groan leaves your lips.

“So selfish.” Shiu echoes in agreement. His forehead rests on yours, delighted by all the tells that you’re about to fall apart for him. Again. For maybe the fifth time today. “Cause I need my wife by my side at all times and I don’t wanna share.”

Upon hearing the word wife leave his lips in that possessive growl, you come undone, clenching and unclenching spastically around his cock. “That’s it, gorgeous, let me have it.”

Your frown returns as soon as you shake off the post orgasm haze and Shiu almost wants to laugh at how cute you look trying to remain upset like you didn’t just squeeze the life out of him with your orgasm.

“Don’t be mad at me, baby.” His lips quickly press against yours that are pressed into a thin line. Shiu tries again to get you to kiss him back but you don’t budge.

“I want a divorce.” You deadpan.

“Not a fucking chance.”

⭑H. HIROMI.ᐟ The Teacher

Hiromi is technically not a CEO but he is the sole partner of a very successful law firm and to him, that’s a million times better. He’s smart and capable but he just cannot be arsed with keeping things tidy and uniform. When he finally bites the bullet and admits to himself that he needs help running the organizational side of things, he outsources for a secretary and winds up with you.

A previous office clerk with a little filing experience under your belt. None of that experience can prepare you for the disaster that is his filing system. If there’s any sort of method to Hiromi’s madness, you have yet to find it.

One day it’s quasi alphabetical, the next he has things filed in order of importance to the case, then it’s first in first out. You can’t keep up with it at all and the legal jargon may as well be Greek to you. Hiromi, god bless him, he has the patience of a saint and never loses his temper with you no matter how many times you get it wrong—and you frequently get things wrong. You don’t know it but he actually thinks it’s cute how confused you are and how you worry your bottom lip while you concentrate on sorting his papers.

He’s even started to make it a little more difficult for you on purpose in hopes that you’ll come to him for help. It makes him feel a little better about needing your assistance. Hiromi has to hide his glee when he comes back from the courthouse after a long day to see you sitting on the floor of his office with papers strewn about around you and tears falling down your face.

“I’m not good at this.” You hiccup, not wanting to meet his eyes afraid you’ll see disappointment in them. “I don’t understand any of it and I feel like I never will.. so you can just fire me, it’s fine.”

“Oh, who said anything about that?” Hiromi tuts and places his bags down so that he can pull you off the floor and into his arms.

“I keep messing things up. That’s not what you hired me for.” You pout up at him, the sweet girl you’ve been since the start.

“I’ll teach you everything you need to know.” Hiromi promises, cradling your face. “You’re a smart girl, you’ll learn quickly.”

It’s incredible how fast you start to catch on when the reward for learning comes in the form of Hiromi’s hands squeezing your waist while he pumps in and out of your bent over form. It’s remarkable how happy Hiromi is to trade being depended on for being wanted by you.

“C’mon, pretty girl, you know this one. Use that head of yours.” Easier said than done when you can barely see straight. You forgot what he even asked you. Something about a subpoena? Or maybe he’d asked you what an affidavit was?

“I don’t— I don’t know.” You slur in bliss and fatigue, knuckles tight while gripped the edge of his desk.

That’s okay. Hiromi doesn’t mind drilling you over and over until you finally get it right.

⭑T. INO.ᐟ The Wiz

Ino is a bit of a wunderkind. The founder of tech startup that just so happened to be a success. All the older CEOs hate him for achieving success so young when it took them much longer but he can’t help that he’s great with technology.

Truthfully, Ino can run his company blind. He doesn’t really need a secretary but he wants you so he keeps you around. You need a job so stick around, trying to be helpful whenever and wherever possible. You alphabetize some things, send a few emails every now and then, take notes at his meetings for him, answer his calls, normal secretary things.

All the things he used to do for himself before you came along. Ino didn’t think about all the free time he’d have in his schedule now that you’ve taken care of so many tedious tasks for him and it leaves him fidgety.

Ino’s no good when he’s like this, bouncing around the walls with untapped energy, and so he adds one more role to your job description: helping him blow off some steam.

You’re happy to assisst your boss in whatever way you can and don’t think twice when Ino instructs you to sit by his computer and spread your legs for him. Two of his fingers slowly dart in and out of your wet pussy (you were soaked the minute you figured out his intentions) while he combs through line by line of code for any breaks or errors.

From the pace of his middle and ring fingers you can tell the objective isn’t really for you to cum it’s just something for him to do to help him focus and stay calm. Despite that, you eventually get there, finally drawing his attention away from his screen. Ino would never miss the opportunity to watch you cum. His eyes are glued to you as your back arches off the desk in a sweet moan, lip caught between his teeth. “Ino, please.”

“I’m almost done, baby just stay right here for me.” He assures you and switches to rubbing slow, tantalizing swirls on your clit. He doesn’t even mean to tease, he’s just so concentrated on finding the problem that’s keeping his app from being functional.

You’re sensitive still so it hardly takes much before your soft little whimpers reach his ear. “I know,” Ino nods without looking away from the computer. He can see you squirm out the corner of his eye. “You’re doing so good for me though.”

Unable to take anymore, your thighs clamp shut as you shake and “Fuuuuuck ohmy—god.” is the last thing you say before you gush around Ino’s fingers just as he finally finds the problem. He licks his fingers clean in satisfaction with his work both on the computer and between your legs.

“Good. Fucking. Girl.” Ino punctuates each word of his praise with a slap of his hand on your cunt.

On second thought, maybe Ino really does need a secretary.

this looks familiar because this is a reupload!

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shoutout to the horny freaks in fandom. this is a freaks please do interact zone

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"give me another"

satoru can't handle another. he's cum so many times that he's sobbing, his legs are shaking so much that you're almost concerned. you've been riding him for hours now, milking his dick over and over again: being filled up and fucked out and somehow managing to maintain the upper hand.

your boyfriends so weak, though, that he probably couldn't flip you over and fuck you if he tried. but he's got the strength to beg, so beg he will.

"please, baby, i can take another orgasm. i'll be okay."

"you'll pass out."

"and you are well within your rights to keep fucking me if i do!"

you slow the roll of your hips gradually, as to not deny him completely. he's looking at you with these blown out eyes, pooling with tears and lust and love beyond romance. it's spiritual. or he's just really cum drunk.

"alright," you lean down and press a kiss to the tip of his nose. "i'll make you a deal: i'll stay still and if you can thrust up enough to make yourself cum, so be it."

"cardio?" satoru whines.

"problem? i can pull off and we can-"

you're jolted by a sudden harsh thrust upwards. satoru bullies his cock deep into you, enough to force the air from your lungs.

"no problem," he grins. "i love cardio."

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my final sylus birthday cake 🤍 inspo from all the talented people on xhs & twitter :’)

happy birthday to our dearest dragon—the other half of our soul. will always be your little dove

april 18, 2025

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kiss me

stay right there my sweet abby im teleporting to u as we speak

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dilf!kento thinks it's odd just how hot and bothered you get when he does the most mundane of things.

for example, he'll be getting dressed in the morning: hair mussed and eyes dark from the lack of sleep that parenthood brings. fingers working his belt through the loops in his slacks and fastening the buckle just to be startled by you, having leapt out of bed to drop to your knees before him and suck him off right there in the walk in closet.

or, later on, when he's cleaning up the kitchen after sending the kids off to school, and you walk in to find his sleeves rolled up, humming away to himself as he washes dishes in the sink. of course, the look on his face when he turns to find you already sat on the countertop and beckoning him over is as priceless as it is arousing.

or god forbid he starts paying bills. sitting at the dining table with papers scattered in front of him, pen held in his strong hand as those glasses of his slide down the bridge of his nose. god, he's so pretty when he's concentrated, working with numbers like a whore! he shouldn't be surprised when you weave your way between him and the papers to sit on his lap and start working at hooking him out of his pants. so you can sit on his cock and get your fill.

"keep acting like that, sir, and you're gonna be a daddy again."

he's gruff. tired. so fucking sexy. "i'm going over the credit card statement. did you spend five hundred dollars on—"

"mmm stop talking and fuck another baby into me, ken."

and, because you married the right man, a pair of strong arms are already hoisting you up and carrying you to the bedroom. "as you wish, love."

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“smile for the camera, baby!” ☆

as if you could.

caleb is all too cocky about your inability to do anything but lay beneath him all slack-jawed and shaky as he drills his cock into you despite your overstimulation.

you’re so fucked out that you can’t even muster up the energy or mindpower to regret gifting your boyfriend and polaroid camera for his birthday. you had brought it with romance in mind—he’s away so often for such long periods at a time that you thought a few sweet photos he can carry in the lining of his uniform jacket would be a nice idea.

but caleb, the amalgamation of all things desperate and horny, couldn’t wait five minutes after unwrapping his gift to start unwrapping you as well. each layer of clothing discarded he’d reward with a photo of your revealed skin until he was trying to finesse a way to hold the camera with one hand as the other pumped his fingers mercilessly into your cunt.

now, hours later, you’re laying on a bed of polaroids, each more lewd than the last. one digs into your skin while another is jostled off the bed with the hard thrusts of your boyfriends leaky cock into your (regrettably) still-needy pussy. the effect this man has on you is unreasonable—you’ve cum so many times that you can’t form a coherent thought and still you think you’d cry if he pulled out and denied you the stretch of his cock.

flash. another shot is taken, this one of your glossy eyes and drool-soaked lips.

“you’re so messy,” he teases like his dick isn’t shining with the sweet mixture of your releases—like he’s not spat on your cunt just to rub load after load of cum around your clit in sick circles that make you choke on your breath. what an asshole he is.

“gonna make you cum again, pips,” he grins, dark hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. “i want to see if i can catch you squirting in a pic, hm?”

you part your kiss-swollen lips to protest. “cant—“ is all you can manage though, before your boyfriend, your best friend, is squeezing your cheeks between his long fingers and frowning down at you.

“don’t doubt yourself, pretty, you can do anything if you set your mind to it!”

pep talk of the century. you’d laugh at him if you had half your mind left, but all you have the space to think about is how he’s never gotten quite this deep inside of you before. you don’t even process the way he’s driven your hips up with his thighs to feel even more of you around him.

so perfect, he calls you. and even though he’s fucking you erratically, once he feels the telltale signs of your impending orgasm, he’s all smiles. sweet glossy eyes brimming with needy tears, flushed cheeks, soft brows… the man with his cock so deep inside of you that you’re seeing stars, leans down to press a kiss to your forehead as you orgasm.

it’s too much. you choke on it, you feel it in every bone in your body and still you crave more of him. you squirt around his cock with a moan made for porn and caleb feels like a hormonal virgin all over again.

click. another pic; one that prints to be fanned out immediately—one hand flapping the print through the air as the other one rubs slow circles on your tummy as he tries to feel himself pushing inside of you.

once it finally develops enough to gift caleb with the sight of your spread legs and the mess of lust between them, you swear he grows even harder inside of you.

“yeah,” your idiot of a man grins. “this one’s going on my wall.”

[gojoscinnamonroll]

Show me who you are..(p✩rnstar!)

Pornstar au; Sylus and Rafayel + a special bonus at the end <3

Warning: 18+, smut, MDNI, this is self indulgent and pure hornball energy, reader is fem

♡ Sylus

Definitely a solo performer, is infamous for his pov videos. Doesn't show his face since he's also the leader of the Onychinus and revealing his beautiful face would put him in a vulnerable situation.

He's got all the gears, the whips, harnesses, ropes. Soft BDSM was his forte. Initially he only did talk throughs for his massive and largely female audience, his subscriber count soaring through the roof just after his first video. His deep, raspy voice, ripped body and big cock did it for him.

But then, you came along, a captivated fan who sometimes took out time from your busy schedule as a hunter to indulge yourself in his videos, having no idea that it was actually the man you had encountered in the N109 zone. You had a hint, so you weren't too surprised when Sylus obliged to his dear fan to do a video together. He wasn't going to collaborate with anyone else besides you anyway.

He made sure you were blind folded with a lacy fabric which was enough for people to be able to recognise you.

He had you on your knees, hands tied onto your back with a clean knot, your beautiful bare body on display for him and his audience to enjoy.

Sylus dragged the tip of the cane tantalizingly, maybe perhaps with a playful sense of revenge from that one time you had him on his knees.

Your nipples were caressed beneath the leather of the cane, body shuddering at the cool sensation while heat pooled between your legs, you were embarrassingly wet with your inner thighs coated with your nectar.

Seeing a small trickle of your wetness down your thigh, Sylus immediately had an amused expression on his face. A smirk lacing his lips while he rubbed the leather now onto your soaked folds.

"Mh..please..more.." you pleaded in desperation, which was immediately followed by a soft spank with the cane onto your pussy, enough to make you jolt at the impact.

"Please what kitten..? Use your words." You let out a shaky breath at his sterness, it turning you on beyond measure.

"Please..sir.." Sylus was pleased with this switched dynamic, letting out a hum of approval as his fingers replaced the cane. The cacophony of your moans and the squelching from your wetness as he plunged his fingers within your cunt echoed the room.

Your body was worn as the man pulled orgasm and orgasm out of you. The floor a puddle of your juices as he made you squirt, over and over again. His greed really couldn't be satiated.

Some people were clearly envious of this very special guest but majority seemed to enjoy the new addition, the number of subscribers soared for him exponentially.

♡ Rafayel

Famous for his pretty face and passionate fucking. The way he did things in the bedroom were pure fun. Rafayel was providing his subscribers what most people weren't, and that was unadulterated romance between you and him.

The artist that he was, Rafayel shooting porn with you was always cinematic. The lighting, the angles where always set up in a manner that it would make the viewers even appreciate the aesthetics of it.

His sense of humor was incorporated in how he fucked, making his you laugh while he rearranged your guts and while managing to maintain his seductiveness. Took skill for most people, but Rafayel was a natural with his innate ability to be so..magnetic.

Anyone who craved watching "passionate sex", your and Rafayel's channel fit every single parameter of that genre.

Recently, the two of you were recorded a video in his bathtub, titled 'fucking my sweet girlfriend after a long day at work.'

Your back rested against his chest, his warmth merging with yours as he fondled with your breasts, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. You giggled as you felt the tip of leaky cock brush against your folds and you decided to toy with him a little, pressing your thumb on his slit, with a glint of mischief in your eyes. A very evident throb passing between your legs when you heard him whimper for you.

That didn't really make you stop, now having your hand pump his length while you had your head turned to have your eyes gazing into his half-lidded ones, hazy with your touch.

It didn't take time for him to switch on you, making you face him with your thighs straddled onto him, with you positioned on top but the one to pull the strings was him, his hand settled onto your waist as you rode him slowly, but sensually. Each vein of his cock discerned against your cloying walls as you made love for the camera, that you forgot even existed.

He always made sure to give you a nice creampie by the end of it, or paint his cum onto your tits as the vision seemed to entice him. His videos were always inclusive of aftercare with him peppering kisses all over your body that appeared like worship. His and your fans always ate it up.

♡ Bonus! Sylus & Rafayel

You don't know what came over you, but you did not expect your beloved lemurian boyfriend to agree sharing you with Sylus for a video. There was some animosity in the beginning between the two, the bantering and both of them unleashing their sass upon each other.

However, all of it was soon wiped away when you were stuffed with Sylus' cock in your walls while your mouth skillfully worked on Rafayel's, hands placed onto his thighs for support. Things were a bit slow and steady at the beginning, neither of them really releasing their inhibitions until you begged them to be rougher.

Rafayel knew you could handle it, observing how well you took the other mans cock. He did feel a sense of pride in the end that you belonged to him.

"She can handle it, look at her..practically soaking your cock." He assured pulling out from your the hot cavern of your mouth. Rafayel leaned down nudging his nose on yours. "You can handle it, can't you cutie..?" You frantically nodded, all sense of shame already left body the moment the duo had you positioned between them on your knees. "Yes I want it..I want it so bad.." Sylus leaned in to plant kisses all over your back, tracing his fingers onto the cleft of your spine before he set a rougher pace as you asked. "Is this to your liking sweetie..?" Your replies only being a string of yeses and honeyed moans before your boyfriend gently guided on his cock again.

The two of them ruined you with pleasure together, leaving you to be a well fucked mess by the end of it.

Let's just say, this video remained too exclusive to be uploaded anywhere.

[gojoscinnamonroll]

coming back from the dead to say that i would like to be tag teamed by sylus and caleb. like. right now. 😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊

[gojoscinnamonroll]

dear yaz,

I'm afraid we got our bags mixed up! I tripped the other day and thousands of shirtless Sylus pictures fell out of my purse! If you want your bag returned, just bring my one! Thank you!

your dearest,

🪅 anon (aka Caleb's wife)

I don't think our bags got mixed up but just in case..

haii my dearest 🪅 anon!! i sooo apologize for the mix up! i will return ur bag to u asap!

just let me keep at least 2 pls…..

[gojoscinnamonroll]

omg TY!! i’m obsessed w ur theme and the sylus pic in the cam.. genius. i’m obsessed w you already, we’ll be chronically online cat girls together :p

THANK UUUU 🥹 and omg YES this is us btw:

[gojoscinnamonroll]

new mutual heyyy 😼

haii new mootie !!! so nice to meet you, also ur theme is SO cute and i saw u also like aot and cats and being chronically online hehe ILY ALREADY :3

[gojoscinnamonroll]

just bonded with some random girls at the store over love and deepspace ^.^ this is what being a girl is about

[gojoscinnamonroll]

chapter 2 ── too easy, this game.

the spider’s sense: a spidercaleb series.

♥︎ spider-man!caleb x fem!reader

synopsis. ┆ caleb’s life was perfect—until it wasn’t. a radioactive spider bite turned him into linkon’s friendly neighborhood spider-man, the daily bugle started hunting for the man behind the mask, and to top it all off, he was forced to partner up with you—his smart, competitive, and infuriatingly perfect classmate who threatened his spot as number one in the class rankings.

tags/warnings. ┆ college/modern au, academic rivals to lovers, fluff, angst, eventual smut, gran isn’t evil in this LOL, the canon event, college parties, alcohol consumption, cliches, depictions of serious crime, references to the spider-man comics and movies, mdni

chapter summary. ┆ after you’re forced to check up on caleb, you realize that your methods of revenge can be sweeter and much more interesting than you had originally anticipated.

prev: pest control. ┆ series masterlist. ┆ next: soon!

“Remember that fundraiser I was telling you about?”

You lift your gaze from the sidewalk, giving Tara a sideways glance. “Yeah, I think so. What about it?”

“Well,” she sings, hugging her thick textbook tighter to her chest before nudging you with her elbow, “I was wondering if you’d like to help us out! We’re always looking for more girls, you know. The sisters of Delta Gamma can only do so much.”

You suck your teeth, tilting your head as your eyes drift to the towering oak tree at the center of the great lawn. The campus had spent the past few days drowning under gray skies and spring showers, but today, the sun had finally broken through. Its warmth pressed against your skin, so bright you had to squint just to avoid being completely blinded.

You look back at Tara. “What day is it again?”

“Next Saturday,” she says with a shrug. “2 PM, in the parking lot between the Delta Gamma house and Lambda Chi Alpha’s.” A pause, as if she was already sensing your impending rejection. “Please? Please!”

You hate when she does this. The puppy dog eyes. That hopeful little tilt of her head. The same look that had managed to drag you to one too many frat parties when you swore you wouldn’t go. Saying no made you feel like some heartless villain stomping on an ant just for the fun of it, and for a moment, you almost caved entirely.

“I’ll… think about it, but midterms are–” you start, but before you can finish, she’s already beaming.

“Yay!” Tara links her arm through yours, practically bouncing as you continue toward Grand Hall. “I’ll text you all the details, ‘kay? I so owe you one.”

You press your lips into a thin smile, debating whether to remind her that you hadn’t actually said yes. Instead, you settle for, “If I end up making it, we’ll call it even for you helping me study for chem.”

She grins. “Good luck on that, by the way. I know you’ll do great!”

The two of you stop outside the building, and Tara leans in, lowering her voice conspiratorially like she’s about to tell you a scandalous secret.

“And remember, the electron cloud model—”

“—is the area around an atom’s nucleus where electrons are most likely to be found,” you finish, unable to fight a smile. “I know, I know. You trained me well.”

You squeeze her arm before unhooking yourself and stepping into the lecture hall.

“I’ll find you after class!” she calls after you.

Inside, the air is sharp with cold, and a shiver runs down your spine. The mood of the room seems different today, as if the oxygen you were all breathing in was thick with anxiety. Your seatmate, Yvonne, is already at her desk, supplies neatly arranged in front of her. You give her a silent smile before sitting down and doing the same.

Once again, you can’t help but notice that the room is quiet—eerily so. Everyone is either too tired to talk or too nervous to form a coherent sentence. Probably both.

As the exam begins, the only sounds filling the space are the rustling of paper and the scratch of pencils against scantrons. You’re on question 21 when you realize you’ve just marked “C” four times in a row. A bead of cold sweat pricks at your temple, and you read over each question about a hundred times, praying that you’ll catch your mistake. After all, that can’t be right… can it? Your gut says yes. Your overthinking says absolutely not.

An hour later, relief ripples through the room as students zip up their backpacks and shuffle toward the front to turn in their scantrons. You’re right behind them, ready to bolt for the door—until Dr. Rappaccini calls your name.

Pausing mid-step, you turn back to face her, plastering on a polite smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah?”

She digs through her bag before pulling out a worn notebook, its cover littered with colorful tabs and sticky notes. Holding it out to you, she looks as if she couldn’t care less about the transaction.

“I believe your lab partner left this in the laboratory last class.”

Your brows furrow as you take the heavy notebook into your hands, flipping it open with a frown. Lo and behold, there it was—‘Property of Caleb Xia’ scribbled in that god-awful handwriting. Raising an eyebrow, you shake your head. “It’s his, yeah… but why are you giving it to me?”

“He didn’t show up for today’s exam, and I’ve canceled class next Monday,” she explains, slinging her tote bag over her shoulder. “Since you work closely with him, I figured you’d see him before I do.”

Now that catches your attention. A sliver—no, a slap—of satisfaction rolls through you. So his sabotage in the lab had already come back to bite him? Karma was fast today. You couldn’t be happier. But unfortunately, the thought of voluntarily interacting with Caleb makes your stomach churn, so you extend the notebook back to your professor without hesitation.

“I assure you, I don’t care to see that man. It’s probably best if you return it to him.”

She glances at her watch, and you can practically see the sweat break out on her forehead. “Oh, I wish I had the time to. I’m running late!”

Gathering her belongings, she makes a beeline for the door. You’re quick to try and follow suit.

Her voice adds a swift, “Ask around! I’m sure someone can help you track him down.”

“But wait! I don’t even—”

The door slams behind Dr. Rappaccini, leaving you frozen in place with Caleb’s stupid notebook clutched to your chest.

“—know what building he lives in.”

You groan, dragging your feet toward the exit, already dreading the idea of having to track down that idiot. In fact, maybe you won’t.

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

“Hey, what are you doing?”

Tara’s voice cuts through the air, startling you. The flicked lighter in your hand dies out before you can hold it to the bottom of Caleb’s notebook long enough for the flames to catch.

“The damn thing won’t light,” you huff, shaking your head in defeat. “Do you happen to know anyone on campus who has lighter fluid?”

Tara crouches beside you, watching with mild horror as you attempt—and fail—to ignite the corner of the notebook again. “Uh… no, not off the top of my head.” She pauses, tilting her head. “And just to be clear, you’re aware that you’re about to light your notebook on fire, right?”

You shrug. “It’s not mine.”

Her head snaps toward you so fast you worry about whiplash. “Okay, let me rephrase that. You’re aware that you’re about to commit a felony, right?”

You flick the lighter again, giving her a puzzled look. “Please, Tara, I don’t care about felonies right now. This is war, and I need to take my revenge.”

“Revenge?” she echoes, her lips tugging downward like she hadn’t considered that to be your motive. “On the notebook or the owner?”

“On Caleb fucking Xia,” you reply, punctuating each word with another flick of the lighter. Then, finally, a tiny flame flickers to life at the corner of the notebook. A wide grin spreads across your lips. “Yay! I did it! Look, I—”

Tara leans forward, blows out the flame, and snatches the lighter from your grasp. “Are you nuts? You can’t just burn his chem notebook!”

You hum, twisting your lips to the side. “You’re right. I’d totally get caught. Maybe I should pawn it off to a frat guy? Make a quick buck. They’d probably pay good money for his notes.”

“What? No! You can’t burn his notebook because that would mean stooping to his level!”

You reach for the lighter, but she stretches her arm out just far enough that you can’t reach.

“Tara! When they go low, we must go lower.”

“When they go low, we should be the bigger person,” she corrects, patting your head like a disobedient child. “How did you even get it? You didn’t steal it, did you?”

You sigh, shaking your head. “No, I wish. Dr. Rappaccini gave it to me to return to him. Apparently, he left it in the lab.”

Tara tilts her head. “Oh. He didn’t show up for the exam? That’s… unlike him.”

Shrugging, you brush off the singed paper flakes from the bottom of the notebook. “I guess. Can’t say I care, though. It’s what he deserves.”

She scoffs. “Geez, this whole scandal has turned you heartless. The Caleb I know would rather eat glass than miss an exam, especially the first one of the semester. I hope he’s alright.”

“In that case, maybe you should be the one to return it to him,” you suggest, holding it out. “You seem to know where he lives, and you actually care if he’s alive. That’s already two steps in the right direction.”

Tara glances at her phone, then sucks on her teeth before flashing you a wry smile. “Oh, shoot! I can’t. I have my physics exam in four minutes.” Before you can argue, she’s already bolting toward her class. “Uh, I think he’s close with Zayne! The one from our bio class!”

You toss your hands up. “Why the hell am I being sent on a manhunt?” Patting your pockets, you realize something’s missing. “Hey! You took my lighter.”

“It’s for the better!” she calls over her shoulder.

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

After a deep dive through Canvas, a trip to Outlook to send Zayne a rather frantic email, and a very long walk across campus, you find yourself stalking through the halls of an unfamiliar dorm building.

Your eyes flick up from your phone every few steps, scanning the numbers on the doors to make sure you haven’t somehow wandered into oblivion. It’s been ten minutes—too long, in your opinion—and you’re beginning to feel like a headless zombie, doomed to wander these halls forever.

That is, until your eyes land on a familiar set of numbers.

Room 323.

Exhaling sharply, you raise your fist and knock three times against the door. The response is almost immediate—an audible thud, followed by an impressive string of curses.

Then, the door swings open, revealing a very panicked and very shirtless Caleb.

And you? Your brain short-circuits. 

For a second—just one—you can’t help it. Your gaze drops straight to his torso, where sharp lines of muscle carve into his biceps and abdomen like a damn Michelangelo sculpture. You’re almost positive those weren’t there yesterday. Scratch that. You’re absolutely positive they weren’t. 

And you would have noticed. You’re nothing if not boundlessly observant. After all, you’re just a girl. You would have noticed if your infuriating classmate had nice biceps that would have certainly softened the blow of his sudden betrayal in the lab yesterday. 

Pretty privilege is alive and well, you can’t help but think. 

Caleb, looking equally flustered, yanks the door halfway shut, reducing the view to just his face. His chest still heaves from whatever chaos had preceded your arrival.

“I, uh… um.” He blinks, clearly rebooting his internal system. His brain fries, and of course the first thing he can do is lean his elbow against the door frame while not-so-obviously flexing his much larger bicep in the process. “So… what’s up?”

Dragging your gaze up to meet his with only minor difficulty, you hold up the slightly charred notebook in your hands. “You left this in class. Rappaccini told me to bring it to you.”

Caleb reaches for it, and the moment his fingers graze the cover, his brows furrow. He flips it over, rubbing his thumb against the edge. A smudge of soot stains his hand.

“What… happened to it?”

You lift your shoulders, hands flying up in a gesture of pure innocence. “No clue. Your guess is as good as mine.”

Before he can properly assess the obvious fire damage, you straighten your posture. If you beat him to it, there’s a good chance that you’ll be able to walk away from this entire ordeal scot free. 

Just… be civil. You can do that much.

“Are you not going to say thank you? I literally had to email your roommate to find out where you live. It was a total inconvenience.”

Or not.

Caleb presses his lips into a thin line, tossing the notebook onto his desk before giving you a barely-there nod. “Right. Thanks.”

His clipped tone does nothing to soothe your irritation. You’re actually starting to regret not letting the damn thing go up in flames. If it weren’t for Tara and her obnoxious morality complex, you would have.

“You’re welcome,” you say sweetly, pivoting to leave. But just before he can close the door, something crosses your mind. “Oh! By the way, I wrote my number in the margin.”

Caleb’s eyes widen. His grip on the door frame tightens. “What? For me?”

A beat of silence. Then, you burst into laughter, and the fact that he isn’t laughing with you makes it ten times funnier. You have to physically wipe the tears from your eyes before you can speak again.

“Oh, you’re serious?” you wheeze, still catching your breath. “God, no. It’s for Zayne.”

“For… Zayne?”

You nod. “Yup. I have biology with him.”

Caleb leans back slightly, like you’ve just personally offended his ancestors. “And? You have chem with me.”

You flash him an expression that Caleb can only assume is the most passive-aggressive smile known to mankind. “Mm-hmm. Well, maybe I want to get in kahoots with people who don’t sabotage my lab reports.”

Ouch. Caleb rubs the back of his neck, swallowing hard. “About that…”

“Save it,” you hum, turning to leave. “Just be a doll and relay the message, yeah?”

But just before you step away, your eyes flicker to his chest again—this time, with an exaggerated furrow of concern. “Wait a sec… what the hell is that? You should really get that nasty mole checked out.”

Caleb’s brows knit together. He instinctively glances down—

And just as his chin tilts, your hand smacks against it, forcing it back up. Your laughter is louder this time. Almost cruel.

“Too easy, this game,” you taunt, shaking your head.

You’re gone before he can do anything other than stand there, jaw slack, ears burning a shade of red that rivals a fire hydrant. How could you prank him with the easiest trick in the book? He rubs his chin, shaking his head in utter defeat as he nudges his door shut. 

Yeah. He doesn’t like you one bit.

Before he can dwell on that fact, his phone buzzes in his pocket. 

xavier (pres of lambda chi alpha): i woke up late and missed physics. can U slide me the notes for the past week? i also slept through those days too… btw Ur still coming to the frat car wash next saturday right ?? we need U bro. U brought in so many new customers 

caleb: sure man :)

xavier (pres of lambda chi alpha): the goat

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

Sirens blare loud enough to wake you, their wailing cries bouncing off the buildings outside your window. The flashing of red and blue does little to ease your nerves—if anything, it invites the perfect storm of overthinking.

Your room is a mess. You haven’t eaten a balanced meal in days. A biology project is due next week. But above all? Midterms are rapidly approaching.

Lately, most of your days are spent holed up on the second floor of the library, tucked away in your usual corner seat. From there, you can people-watch from above and soak in just enough sunlight to keep from feeling like life is draining from you with each word you scribble down or type up. But after a while, even the comfort of routine turns into a cage.

It’s monotonous. Tiring. Far too predictable for your liking. If you don’t see at least one interesting thing each day—whether it’s someone walking their adorable dog or a person wearing a sweater so blindingly neon it makes your eyes hurt—you consider the day a waste. You still study, of course, but you need something of substance to fuel your brain. Something besides your bitter iced coffee, which barely manages to keep you conscious.

Maybe it’s the exhaustion of your second midterm season settling into your bones. Maybe it’s the weight of all your responsibilities pressing down on your shoulders. Whatever it is, it drives you to seek out a new place to study.

Is it 4 AM? Yes. Are the sirens especially loud tonight? Also yes. You can’t sleep. Sue you.

It makes perfect sense why you find yourself trudging into your university’s 24-hour café, headphones snug over your ears and meal card already in hand. Fuzzy pajama pants and an oversized hoodie hang off your frame, but if the cashier doesn’t care, neither do you. You’d be damned if you didn’t at least get your usual morning drink and a slice of banana bread to kickstart your day.

No more than an hour passes before the faint jingle of the entrance bell rings to life, prompting you to spare a glance over your shoulder, curiosity piqued.

Luck isn’t on your side. Of course it’s Caleb. 

And he looks… different. Not in the way he did a few days ago—no, he looks worn. Tired. A bruise blooms across his cheek, stark even in the café’s dim lighting. You force yourself to look away before you can start ogling like a freak. Again.

But as he makes his way in your direction, you barely suppress a groan, turning back toward your laptop in a last-ditch effort to seem busy. It doesn’t work. Not when you feel the weight of his beady little amethyst stare boring into the back of your head. 

You sigh, forcing a cheery tone. “Can you maybe not stand next to me looking like a decaying corpse? You’re going to attract flies.” 

Caleb shrugs, managing to pick an almond off your banana bread before you slap his hand away. “You’re doing that on your own. Didn’t you hear? This café was infested with fruit flies last semester. Your perfume is basically a mating call for ‘em.”

You huff, tilting your head. “Aw. Is that your way of saying I smell nice?” 

Rolling his eyes, Caleb crosses his arms over his chest. You notice a small cut on his bicep, but you do your best not to stare. You've done enough of that lately. 

“No,” he flatly says. “I’m just… stating my observation.” 

You turn back to your laptop, sliding your headphones over your ears. “Well, stop observing me.”

”Psh. Gladly.”

His actions are the first thing to betray his words, because he makes the executive decision to sit in the chair directly behind yours. He was sitting so damn close that you could feel the warmth of his skin through his hoodie—which you now notice is thrashed in a few places, as if he had taken scissors to the fabric and snipped away. It was odd, but you managed to look away as he shifted around to fish his own laptop out of his backpack. 

Then, before you can finish typing the sentence you’d been working on before he walked in, he beats you to it. Obnoxiously so. His fingers slam against his keyboard with such force you briefly wonder if an elephant from the Linkon City Zoo has escaped and taken up tap dancing behind you.

Your teeth clench. “Can you stop typing so damn loud?” 

“Oh, I’m not the loud one here.” 

You glance over your shoulder, finding that he was already looking at you, “And that means what exactly?”

“It means that I could probably hear your music if I was three miles away.” With his new heightened senses, that was hardly an exaggeration. He gave you an all-too-charming smile. “Turn it down a few levels, yeah? Thanks.” 

The lilt to his voice made you want to set him straight in more ways than one. “You little—”

“New Magic Wand by Tyler, The Creator at 4 AM is crazy work, by the way.” 

“Boy, I’ll show you crazy—”

Suddenly, a chipper voice rings through the air. Much to your surprise, it called out your name.

Tara strides in as if you all aren’t up at the crack of dawn, looking incredibly enthusiastic about life, much like she always did. You wish you could inherit whatever will she has to live.

“Hey!” she greets with a wave. She plops down beside you, turning around in her seat so that she could face both you and Caleb at the same time. “Funny seeing you guys here. Are you talking about the fundraiser?”

You blink. “Huh?”

“Why would we be talking about the fundraiser?” he can’t help but question. 

“Well,” Tara sings, “my girl here is going to be helping out Delta Gamma with the sorority wash! And you’re going to be helping out Lambda Chi Alpha again this year, right?” 

Caleb is almost positive that his heart has just dropped to his ass. 

He looks between you and Tara. “What? She can’t come.”

You let out a short, annoyed breath. “And why can’t I?”

And he knows he sounds like a petulant child when he mutters, “It’s my thing.”

“Aw,” you coo, tilting your head with a forced pout. “Is it your thing? Womp womp.” 

Caleb rolls his eyes, but you don’t care to see it as you lean toward Tara, lowering your voice as if you were telling her top secret information. “Why didn’t you tell me he would be there?”

“Because if I had, you would have totally refused,” she says matter-of-factly. “And we need you! We can’t let the guys bring in more revenue than us this semester, they held it over our heads for, like… months last time! Plus, I need you to combat him. I swear, he brought in more customers than anyone ever has, it’s no wonder Xavier begged him to do it again.”

You blink. “Are you serious?” 

Tara nods. 

You can’t help but rub your chin. “I’m surprised anyone paid him for that.” 

Caleb glances between the two of you. “I’m sitting right here.”

You glance his way. “We know.”

He lets out a harsh breath. “Look. If you don’t want to see me there, don’t come. Real easy fix.”

You tilt your head, raising a brow. “Why do I have to be the one to cancel? Why can’t you just skip it? You already had your fun last year playing chick magnet or… whatever.”

“I can’t. I already made a commitment.”

“Well, so did I.”

“Perfect!” Tara beams, clasping her hands together. “I’ll see you both there then. This is gonna be sooo much fun, guys! You can probably even get over the little feud you have going on, I swear, it’ll be…”

Caleb can’t even hear the rest of whatever Tara was saying. His mind is too busy short-circuiting over this very dreadful realization. 

You’ll be there. 

In a bikini top.

Covered in soap suds. 

Trying to pass him up yet again. 

This was going to be a damn nightmare.

series masterlist. ┆ next: soon!

a/n consider liking, commenting, or rb if you enjoyed :) i’m sorry this update took so long </3 i got so swamped with my uni work and wasn’t entirely satisfied with the chapter sooo i pushed it off.

i know that this is lowkey a slow start with really short chapters and there isn’t much spider-man stuff going on rn but… trust me guys. just trust me.

also ofc there’s a xavier cameo bc that’s my man soooo i had to include him somehow, even if he’s just a sleepy frat boy

edit: if you don’t know what a frat/sorority wash is just look them up on tiktok LMAO, it’s usually shirtless frat guys and sorority girls in bikini tops who wash cars to raise money for their foundations. it’s just a silly college tradition idk 😭

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