Warnings: Sex, cunnilingus, reader curses, English isn’t my first language so bear with me, dom/sub undertones if you squint. Guys I don’t know what a midterm is in the U.S.
Timeline: between no way home and new day
Relationship: Peter Parker/Reader
Characteristics: gender neutral reader, non-white reader, afab reader, demisexual reader (???), etc.
He was so pretty it honestly hurt.
Midterms seemed to be trying to drown you and you seriously needed to get your shit together, lock the fuck in, and put in the hard work.
But Peter’s brown, pleading eyes were really fucking distracting. And his curls… my gosh.
You were glad he had stopped using hair gel after high school, just saying. But seriously, you needed to concentrate and Peter’s constant presence in your dorm wasn’t helping. He was clingy even if he always got offended when calling him out, it was honestly something you loved about him and also something you were trying to ignore right now.
“Come on. I already did the biochem assignment, you can just copy mine.” He offered while hugging you a bit awkwardly from the back as you were sat in front of your desk, the sound of the keyboard rattling across the room as you did your research while he tried to sew himself into your body as much as he could. You could see the reflection of his face in the screen of your computer. Pretty brown eyes staring right back at yours. Your heart hurt from affection.
He had been going on and on about how he wanted you stop working and start paying attention to him. Arguing that no one would notice if you just changed things correctly and that way you could just enjoy your time together. Of course, he said it way more respectfully because he was Peter Parker, but that’s all you really heard. If you didn’t know him any better, you’d think he’s trying to sabotage your grades.
You turned him down yet again, not knowing what had gotten into him. This level of clinginess being unusual even for him, he was even more of an overachiever than you so he usually understood the importance of assignments, advocated for it even. The nerd.
He had finished his midterms already because of his different major, biochem and applied electronic circuits were the only subjects you shared.
“Not really how education works, Parker.” You snapped your attention back to your document, the multiple opened google windows and the books on your desk. “Plus, I didn’t peg you for a cheater?” You taunted. He huffed sulkily and perched his chin on your shoulder. You tried to not focus on the reflection of his pout.
You asked him about his day instead so he could feel included despite half zoning him out while you worked. “Well, I’ve been trying this new thing with some stuff I found around. I thought that maybe I could make a printer of sorts with this technology that’s been…” You just filed away the information and promised yourself to ask about it later.
A little while after, he just nuzzled your neck and hid his face with a contented sigh. And for a moment, it was exactly what you needed to keep working, just having his presence in silence while you tried to be productive.
The restless little shit couldn’t keep up much though.
Eventually, his arms shifted around you and he brought his hands to rest on your body, tenderly rubbing your sides and your torso. He was warm and cozy, and you seriously deliberated for a second about saying ‘fuck it’ to the assignment for one more day, and just put on matching blue flannel pajamas and cuddle with him.
No matter how pretty your boyfriend was, you weren’t going to let a man… a m*n… be the reason you had less of a 90 in a subject as important as this. No sir. No way in hell would you ever prove right anybody who said you would be getting distracted from your studies with a boyfriend. Nuh uh. Fuck off, Dad! … respectfully.
No matter how brown his eyes were, or how his face changed in slight (gorgeous) desperation to spend time with you (without said third wheeling assignment), nor how floofy his hair was, or the way his lashes were tickling your neck… no matter the way his biceps strained under his shirt right now or how how his veins looked in his forearms or the way his hands looked on your thighs, his pale skin contrasting against yours, no matter how he looked kneeled between your legs- he was kneeling between your legs!
You looked down at him now, a bit startled. Damn.
Sorry, is he talking, right now?
“…can continue, I just want to… be close to you.” He said, half of his body under the desk, while giving you a set of eyes enough to put a begging-for-human-food puppy to shame.
“Uh… what?” You said intelligently. The three neurons in your brain fighting each other to work.
He seemed to fluster, albeit his cheeks had already been a bit pink now that you noticed.
“It’s totally okay if you don’t want to! I’m sorry! I can just keep hugging you. Unless you don’t want that either! I can just exist!” He said quickly. “I like just existing!”
“Don’t want to what?” You asked in genuine confusion.
“Oh, uh… I have to say it again, damnit.” He murmured under his breath and then cleared his throat. “Th-that maybe, only if you want to of course, I could…” he seemed to falter “e-eat you out?” He immediately turned red at that. “W-while y-you work…”
It was your turn to blush.
Despite knowing each other for 2 and a half years after meeting in a free shitty GED course and turning friends after a very reticent to social relationships Peter… you were in the early stages of your romantic relationship, 5 months… but still, early stages to you both after your respective experiences. It’s not that you hadn’t been… intimate before, kind of, sort of, maybe. BABY STEPS, OK?!
Although this step wasn’t so baby in measurement.
“Uhhhhhh.” You exclaimed sagaciously again.
“I understand, don’t worry! I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I’ll just-“ he started standing up and you grabbed at his arm. He looked at your hand, very gently pressing him to stay, and then at your eyes. “Wait.” You said and he obediently stayed put, doe eyes on you.
You swallowed and fixed your surprised face before talking “This is the reason why you’ve been all desperate, huh, Parker?” You teased “And here I thought you actually wanted to hang out with me.” You mock-sighed but to Peter it was an alarm going off in his brain.
“Of course I do! I do! I- I just… you… I’m- I wanted-“ he stuttered. “Ok, maybe I’m a bit desperate” he admitted with an embarrassed expression of defeat “But not- not like that’s the only thing I want to do with you! I lo…. Uh… I…” He scratched the back of his neck, despite everything, he couldn’t bring himself to say it, maybe give it another 5 months and he’d stop having that tiny (big) inkling of feeling that everything he loved he ruined.
“I like being with you… doing anything at all, a lot. Even when we are in silence and we are just sitting there together… it’s my favorite thing.” He gave you a sheepish smile, still a bit reluctant to be vulnerable even now.
“And- and im not saying this so you’ll let me have sex with you!” He rapidly added, albeit a bit red in the face. “I just wanted to let that be clear.” He settled with that tiny smile again. You melted. You knew he wasn’t saying it so you’d let him situate himself between your thighs, but it would have worked to be honest.
“It’s my favorite thing too.” You reciprocated with a twinning smile before leaning down and pulling at the collar of his sweater, he met you halfway. You slowly brushed your nose against his, making his breath hitch and his hands twitch.
You buried a hand in his hair and placed the other one on his jaw to pull him in that final inch. Kissing Peter always felt like fireworks going off in your brain while you ate a 3 layer cake of cocaine while riding a monocycle that was currently in fire. Oxytocin was not a joke.
He shifted to support himself with your chair and brought one arm around you. The kiss was sweet despite the underlying heat in it. Your lips touching his was like a breath of fresh air while simultaneously feeling like you were finally home.
You deepened the kiss, opening your mouth and intertwining your tongue with his, angling his head to kiss him better. Peter made a tiny surprised sound that you swallowed eagerly, he followed your lead and melted against your lips. Strong hands now gently roaming your body, shaking just slightly as the kiss prolonged. You pulled at each other like you wanted to get as close as possible, gasping and sighing quietly against each other’s mouths.
After kissing him within an inch of his life, you pulled away, panting, to look at him. He looked dazed. His lashes fluttering as he slowly opened his eyes after his lips followed yours and didn’t find them. He looked adorably confused for a second, heavy breaths leaving his now bruised lips.
“Okay, let’s do that.” You said breathlessly. “I really want to.” You reiterated because you knew how Peter’s mind worked and he needed a verbal agreement.
You would’ve laughed at the way he immediately perked-up at that if you weren’t so turned on. You honestly didn’t think you had the neural capacity to write in your laptop right now, you had already thrown away the remote possibility of advancing further in your assignment today; but you thought it was kind of hot that he had even suggested for you to continue. Like he was desperate enough, like eating you out got him off in on itself that it was a favor you were making for him.
“But don’t distract me much, okay? I do really need to finish this and some other final assignments before Friday.” You added, which was true, but you could procrastinate for another day, you were already halfway done anyway. Peter didn’t need to know that though, not yet.
“Yes yes, of course.” He quickly said with barely hidden enthusiasm. “I’ll be as… un-distracting as I can be.”
You kissed one ‘final’ time and you straightened to keep ‘working’.
First, he eagerly roamed your body with his hands, gently sliding one hand up your shirt to lift it up as the other unbuttoned your shorts. He kissed down your stomach and your hands faltered against the keyboard, gibberish now written on your document. He pulled down your shorts and kissed all the way down to your inner thigh, you tried to not appear as affected.
He shifted and then placed one of your thighs on his shoulder and then the other as he looked up at you. Only the click of your mouse answered his gaze. He placed his thumb over your underwear, caressing and rubbing, touching your clit almost immediately through the fabric. You let out a soft sigh. He pushed your thighs apart a bit more and slowly pulled your underwear to the side with a hitch of his breath, you felt him look up at you again but you didn’t meet his gaze. You could feel his choppy breathing as he neared his face. He swiped his tongue across your slick with a groan.
“You taste really good.” He said it like he couldn’t contain himself.
“No distraction, remember?” You answered, just to be a bit mean.
“Right, yes, sorry.” He breathed out, genuinely apologetic. “I’ll be quiet.”
After that he buried his face and started licking at your pussy, slow and languid. Your hand tightened over your mouse. For the next 20 minutes or so (wow for Peter’s jaw), you had Peter Parker’s eager head of curls moving between your tanned thighs and eating up the continuous wetness that spread with every move of his tongue while you absentmindedly looked at a research paper, still trying to finish the third paragraph and actually understand the words.
As time passed, he started squirming, his knees shifting against the small carpet on the floor as his movements turned impatient, like if he was the one getting his dick sucked right now. You tried to gently tug at his hair to pull him away and he gasped a bit too loudly at the feeling (interesting). You wanted to bottle up the sound.
He belatedly looked up, chin wet and cheeks flushed, brown eyes soft and adoring, but a bit restless and needy. He looked gorgeous and a bit pained.
“You okay?” You asked, breathless. You were worried that he might actually be uncomfortable.
“Yeah, yeah.” Peter sighed out before swallowing and looking down. The action immediately bringing to your attention his erection painfully straining against his sweatpants. “Uh… can I-“ he swallowed “can I touch… myself?” He asked sweetly despite the hot ache in his crotch.
“Yes, of course baby.” You said. He sighed in relief and reached for his pants before you stopped his hand. You didn’t exactly know what had gotten into you but you did know you needed to hear those needy sounds off his lips. “But over your clothes.” You added. His dick twitched, belying the instinctive, small protesting sound he made. He looked at you with a pleading gaze but you just held it without saying anything, getting lost at the desperate look in his face.
“You are bossy.” Peter huffed eventually but there was a tiny dreamy smile on his face. You grinned.
With an exhale, he reached again and started rubbing himself over the gray fabric of his sweatpants. He leaned in after that and buried his tongue deep inside you as much as he could. Moving it in and out and through your folds, while a hand held one of your thighs. He couldn’t hold back his moans now, a small damp patch of precum spreading on his pants as his tongue fucked you and a thumb circled your clit. It made you clench around him, which only made him groan and the vibration got you white-knuckled clung to your desk containing your moans.
Peter pulled away to properly breathe after a while, panting and muffling his small whimpers against your inner thigh. You caressed his hair with your fingers while he looked like he was struggling not to come in his pants or probably he just wanted to actually stroke himself.
He stopped rubbing himself to bring his other hand to your thigh. Warm hands holding your legs up and away to fit his head and continue drinking in your wetness while tiny saccharine noises left his lips every now and then. “Seriously, you taste so good.” The reiteration came in a sigh and you didn’t even have the chance to even think about fake-chastising him before Peter suckled on your clit. A loud, breathless moan from your lips resounded across the room, joining the obscene sound of your soaked pussy and his mouth meeting.
Your hips started involuntarily moving in tiny rolls against his face, your thighs closing around his head in a particularly good suck of your clit. He made a broken sound at that that went, quite literally, to your groin. You tried to calm yourself but you couldn’t help the sounds that fell from your lips.
“F-fuck.” He strained out. “Yes, ride my face, please.” He begged.
“You- ah fuck-“ you got interrupted by your own groan as he continued and you grabbed a fistful of his messed up curls to pull him away, he whined and his dick twitched in his pants at the feeling (that’ll be a funny conversation later).
With a shudder, you pulled until he was looking up at you. “Listen to me when I talk, sweetheart.” You panted.
“Yes, sorry, yeah. Won’t- won’t happen again.” He heaved, he was currently hard as a rock and pleaded in his mind to not embarrass himself by coming untouched like a fucking teenager.
“You sure you want me to… ride your face?” You continued inquisitively, like you couldn’t believe it. “Yes.” Peter nodded, face flushed and eyes wet, pinkish red lips all slicked over.
You deliberated, afraid that you could accidentally suffocate him regardless of how turned on you were by the offer. “Wouldn’t that cut your airflow, though?”
“No, no-“ he said. “But my thighs-“ you answered. “You won’t asphyxiate me, baby. I mean, I don’t think it’s possible… with me.” He reassured you, fond of your worrying. He would’ve argued he’d die a happy man if that was the case anyway, but he knew you wouldn’t appreciate the comment at the moment.
Right yeah, super strength and all that, Peter could pull away in a second. “Still, would you tell me if it’s too much?” You asked.
“Promise.” He gave you a lopsided grin, which looked a bit ridiculous with your arousal all over the half down of his face, but you were charmed by it anyway.
Warm hands peeled off your underwear and threw it to the dirty underwear bin (you weren’t a big fan of bodily fluids on clothes, ok?!). The air hitting your damp skin and having Peter looking hypnotized. He brought your thighs to his shoulders again and held devastating eye contact with you as he sucked on your clit again. He was really good at that for some reason.
After gaining back some rhythm, you started to desperately grind your pussy against his mouth as he held your hips. His tongue relentless between your folds. You gripped the edge of your desk for leverage and kept one hand in his hair. Whimpers torn out of your lips as you fucked his face in dirty rolls of your hips. Your cunt drooling over every swipe of his tongue.
“Ah- s-so-“ you strained out. “…so, so good, Peter.”
A sound of bliss could be heard muffled between your thighs at the praise. The swipes of his tongue and sucks of his lips getting to a mind blowing level. Your hips stuttered and your fingers tightened on his hair. Your pussy fluttered on his mouth as the knot in your belly tightened and the muscles of your stomach contracted as you squirmed. Brows cinched and eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as your back arched.
“Peter! I’m- I can’t- I’m going to-“ You said helplessly and with another roll of your hips you came on his tongue. White-hot pleasure that bordered on too much filled your body. Everything disappeared for a glorious moment, you could feel your hips slowing but still dragging yourself against Peter’s mouth, the overstimulation hurt so good. You honestly felt like you were never getting off that train.
After some life changing minutes of aftershocks, accidentally squeezing Peter’s head with your thighs and probably getting a complaint from your neighboring dorms, you came back to yourself, your chest heaving as your breath came in ragged exhales.
When you pulled away to let Peter breathe he was… um… -for a lack of a better word- a disaster.
Cum on his chin and used lips, eyelashes wet, his face flushed and rocking quite a phenomenal sex hair. He still looked like he was somewhere floating in the room. You thought that you probably looked similar.
You had never really… fucking… ejaculated like that before. You just thought you weren’t that kind of person, some never release… whatever the fuck is that, in a climax, and that was okay for you. Until Peter seemed to it rip off from you in the most intense orgasm of your life yet with just his tongue and his thumb.
“You… you okay?” You asked and he just made a lazy thumbs up. You brushed off the damp locks of hair closer to his forehead and left little kisses on his head and squeezed his shoulders before looking down.
His sweatpants were ruined, a big stain of his release on the fabric.
“Oh right.” He followed your gaze belatedly. “um, that happened.” He suddenly looked sheepish. You chuckled.
“Don’t laugh at me!” He protested weakly.
“I’m not!” You said (with a grin).
“I think it’s hot, to be honest.”
“What- really?” He asked hopefully.
“I won’t say it twice. Now- could you bring me something to… clean?” you stared down at the mess of cum, arousal and saliva between your legs, now turning sticky.
He stared at first for a long moment. “What- oh yeah sure!” He stood up in wobbly legs and immediately went for it.
“Wash your face maybe!” You called out. “Mouth too!”
“And waste away this??” He said with an idiotic grin as he swiped a finger on his chin and sucked it clean.
“Your freak.” He added from the bathroom, you could hear the sound of water rushing.
“My freak who will make me dinner for the rest of the week since he distracted me from my work!” You exclaimed.
“Worth it.” He shrugged to himself.
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