All he could feel was pain. It was radiating in waves around his body, his muscles tensing up and making it harder to swing than usual.

All he wanted was you.

And you were a mere few blocks away, so he could handle swinging over, right? Just to chat, distract himself... He knew that was a lie, but before Peter had even known what was going on, he found himself climbing through the window to your apartment.

Being home alone always had its many perks, but hearing something in your room late at night while you were washing your face in the bathroom was not one of them. You looked up at your own expression slowly, water dripping down your face, panic coursing through your veins. Something different, but just as strong, was coursing through Peter’s. He made his way onto your bed, tearing off his mask and gasping for more air.

Your floorboards creaked as you made your way to your room, face wash in hand like a small baseball bat. Cringing at the noise, you started to back away.

“Y/N?” The voice was hoarse.

“Peter?” You lowered your arm and poked your head through your doorway. “What the fuck are you doing, I thought you were a serial killer!”

He got up from the bed and grabbed your free hand, making you jolt at the high temperature. “I need you,” he gasped, any and all pretense thrown out the window.

“What?”

“I messed up. I- I just need you, please,” he begged.

You didn’t know what he meant at first. You thought that maybe he needed you to hold him, comfort him. Let him lay on your chest while you combed through his hair with your fingers. But when you recognized how his eyes darkened, the lust blowing up his pupils, you felt your face heat up.

You and Peter had hooked up just once in the past. A late night when you were feeling particularly lonely and needed his comfort. The two of you never talked about it after, just went on with your friendship like you had before. It wasn’t the same, though. He’d look at you when he knew you weren’t paying attention. You’d stare at him longingly when he was across a room. You dreamed about him... dreamed about that one night. He thought about it everyday. But neither of you said a word.

“What’s wrong,” you asked, scared. The two of you had sex months ago and pretended it basically never happened, so why was he in your room in the middle of the night, all of a sudden hot and begging for it?

“Have you ever heard of sex pollen?” He rushed out his question.

“No?”

“It’s- fuck,” Peter groaned, stumbling forward and resting his hand against his thigh in a fist so tight that his knuckles turned white. “It’s produced by this genetically modified plant that Hydra created. It was supposed to make people stronger, but it didn’t work, so now they just sell it on the black market like some fucked up viagra to fund their experiments.”

“What does it do?” You knew the viagra reference gave you a good gist, but this didn’t sound like life or death. He couldn’t deal with a little discomfort for a few hours?

“It keeps raising the temperature in your body until you have sex, and if you don’t within twenty four hours, you die.”

“What?”

“Please Y/N, I wouldn’t be asking if I had any other options.”

That didn’t exactly make you feel great, but you knew what he meant. And it was nice, that he could trust you like this. But...

“I’m,” you almost didn’t want to say it out of mild embarrassment. Especially considering that it wouldn’t fucking matter, considering the severity of everything. “I’m on my period, Peter.”

“I don’t care,” he said immediately. Your eyes widened and he closed his, take a breath and leaning forward to touch your forehead with his. “Please,” he breathed.

Anything, you thought, Anything for you.

“Can we do it in the shower,” you asked timidly.

“Yes,” he gasped, already tearing off his suit. Grabbing your hand again, he dragged you with him into your bathroom. The shower was turned on in an instant, and his underwear was off in the seconds after.

With everything off, he hopped into the shower and shivered at the cool water. If he was any hotter, he wouldn’t be surprised if steam came off of him. He waited for you semi-patiently while you shifted awkwardly just outside of the curtain.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Peter said, pushing open the shower curtain to look at you. You could tell he was in a lot of pain, and the thought of him going to anyone else upset you.

“No,” you said, possibly too loud.

Peter’s eyebrows raised, and despite the agony he was in, he seemed amused. His smile was small, but you saw it. It disappeared with his next sentence, though.

“Really, I don’t want you to do this if you don’t want to. I can find someone who does.” You didn’t doubt that.

“I want to,” you said, taking off your shirt. His eyes drifted to your naked breasts before he glanced back up.

“You do?” It was strange having this conversation while he was already standing in front of you naked, but hey, he was also Spider-Man, so maybe this wasn’t the weirdest thing to happen to either of you. “Not just because I might die?” 

You pushed off your shorts along with your underwear and stepped into the shower with him, the water starting to soak through your hair. It was freezing but you held in your scream.

“Not just because you might die,” you shivered, turning the water hotter despite his objection. Then you paused, thinking about what you’d just said. “I mean, that’s obviously part of it.”

“Okay,” he laughed, cupping your cheek with his hand when you turned back around and leaning in to kiss you. 

You sighed happily into it, finding the warmth of the water paired with the warmth of his lips soothing. 

It was gentle for the first few moments, before he started pressing his lips to yours harder, with a sense of urgency backing it. Your teeth clacked before he pushed his tongue into your mouth, but neither of you minded. One of his hands was holding your head close to his, the other sliding down the side of your body before roughly grabbing your ass.

His dick bumped against the lower part of your stomach and you felt butterflies. This was really going to happen again. No more dreams, just reality.

“For the record, it sucks that this is happening because of some crazy plant, but I’m glad it’s happening,” he said, nipping your jaw and lifting your chin so he could dip down and leave bruises along your neck with his mouth. 

“We never talked about this before,” you said, holding in your moans. 

“I didn’t know if you wanted to,” he said simply, pulling away but not looking at you, just hiding in the crook of your neck.

“I didn’t want to bring it up and have you not feel the same,” you said, thinking of all the anxiety you’d had the past few months. 

Peter frowned, wondering if he’d made you upset by never bringing it up himself. “I’m sorry, I should’ve said something about it the next day,” he said, wrapping his arms around you in an embrace. He continued kissing your neck, his hands moving and never stopping on one part of your body for too long. The pads of his fingers traced your slit for a moment, but then moved back up to your abdomen. He kept himself sane by touching you, but he was trying to take his time and keep talking to you so that you knew he cared about you past this. 

“It’s okay,” you sighed, responding to both his apology and his unintended teasing. You were enjoying the talk about your feelings while he touched you so intimately. The day after you’d slept together had been perfect, even if you didn’t talk about any of the things you should have. In the morning you’d laid in bed together, naked with limbs intertwined under the sheets covering you. Then he’d put his clothes on, and kissed you, and left. And you never spoke about it again, but you wouldn’t have changed that morning for anything. “I never brought it up either.”

He felt a desperate need to tell you he loved you, but didn’t want to scare you off. Just because you’d said you had feelings for him didn’t mean you loved him, and he couldn’t read your mind, no matter how loudly it screamed how much you loved him too.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, but I need you now,” he gasped against your neck.

“It’s okay, Pete,” you said gently, your hand on his shoulder.

“Okay, I’m gonna lift you.”

“Lift me?” You squeaked. 

Peter nodded. “I got you, I promise.”

“What if you slip?”

“I’ll balance myself. I’ll catch you. Spidey senses.”

You rolled your eyes, but his reassurance made you feel better. “O-Okay.”

He placed both hands right under your ass, hoisting you up and pushing you against the tiled wall. The cool temperature of the tile and its contrast to the hot steam coming from the water made a gasp slip past your lips. Peter held you with one arm as he leaned against you, holding you in place as he guided himself into you. Thank God for super strength.

You still had some concerns about any period blood, but all of that flew out the fucking window when he eased into you in one go. He filled you up just the way you needed, the way you’d been craving, the way your toys just couldn’t at their smaller sizes. And you whined out like a bitch in heat. 

“Peter, fuck,” you moaned, gripping onto his shoulders and back like you’d die if he slipped out of you for even a moment. When he did, you whimpered, until he rammed right back in. And then he didn’t stop, not even for a second. The stretch of him inside you was delicious and you knew your pussy was clenching onto him for dear life, but you couldn’t help it even if you tried. He was too good. 

Peter was trying hard to focus on not slipping, as that did pose an imminent danger if he were to fall and not catch either of you as he promised. But the second he was inside you to the hilt, he couldn’t focus on anything but the squeeze of you around him and how fucking good it felt to keep pounding you into the tile of this shower wall. He lost himself in it, and barely heard you when you started to gush out praises for him in hushed whispers.

“I love your dick, Peter, I never want you to stop.” You were sure you’d probably be embarrassed about saying that later, but right now, you weren’t in control of whatever came out of your mouth. It was all the truth, anyway. He was pulsing in your pussy and against that sweet spot every time he pushed back in. Christ, you could die like this. And if you did, you wouldn’t have a problem with that.

He tried lifting you more to have a better vantage point with which to fuck into you. Somehow, everything felt even better. You didn’t think it could, but goddamn, did it. The pleasure enhanced to the max and you were sure you had started to chant his name. 

He managed to rock against your clit when he’d move his hips back into you, and you swore, your nervous system broke. You weren’t sure how your neighbors would react to you after this, but there was no controlling anything that came out of your mouth anymore.

Peter was pulling from you one of the best orgasms of your life and the fire just spread and spread until you couldn’t think anymore. All you could do was scream as he kept going throughout it, his head buried in your shoulder. 

Both of his hands were under your thighs, keeping you in place while you wriggled around, a moaning mess. The oversensitivity had begun to kick in, the noise of slapping skin getting quicker as he started to reach his high. 

“You are so perfect,” he gasped, hands squeezing. “So perfect for me, my perfect girl, ngh-” The rhythm of his hips stuttered the second before you heard the most perfect of noises start spilling from his lips. “Ah, fuck,” he gasped, biting hard onto your neck to stifle his moan, which surprisingly to you, triggered a second orgasm that went rolling in waves around you, gentler than the first but still intense.

“Jesus, Peter, I-” you didn’t even get to finish your sentence. Peter was letting you down and then shoving you back into the wall, his lips glued to yours. 

“Again,” he murmured, lips moving down to suck more kisses on your neck.

“Again,” you asked, not even close to recovering from the round you’d literally just finished. 

“Is that okay?” He immediately dissolved back into soft boy Peter Parker again. There was no way you could say no to those innocent brown eyes. Especially when they were asking for something so the opposite of innocent.

You ignored the question for a moment, leaning forward to catch his lips in a quick kiss. 

“I told you I never want you to stop, remember?”