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blooming-violets · 2 years

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Mirror, Mirror || TASM

[tasm!peter x black cat/felicia hardy]

Summary: Felicia lures her favorite Spider back to her hideout in the hopes of receiving his attention. (a mirror smut fic)

TWs: 18+ smut, rough oral sex, not the healthiest of relationships

A/N: I’m doing an experiment by reposting this without certain labels.

Felicia silently dropped in through her bedroom window and closed it behind her. The bag of stolen jewels was tossed carelessly onto the bed, the pieces rolling out over the blanket. Yellow street lights poured in through the window to illuminate the diamonds and create a soft, pleasing sparkle across the mattress. A bed full of diamonds used to sound appealing to her. Now, it didn’t hold much value. The jewels weren’t something she cared about. It was the act of stealing them that drew her in. Once they were in her possession, she couldn’t care less what happened to them.

Her leather stiletto boots made a satisfying sound to her ears as she crossed over the hardwood floor towards her full length mirror. She had challenged herself to complete the mission in heels tonight. It gave her an added boost of confidence knowing she was just as agile in them as her combat boots. They made her leather clad ass look extra impressive and she was aiming to impress tonight. Her end goal was never the jewels. Felicia was specifically looking to catch the watchful eye of her favorite little Spider. She knew he had followed her back home. She could sense him in the shadows and felt him following her every move. He had stayed quiet tonight, lacking his usual fast witted quips. That meant he had alternative motives. He didn’t want to catch her in the act. He wanted to surprise her when he thought her guard would be down. He wanted more from her than a sarcastic exchange of words.

She knew what he wanted, she craved it too, and she led him straight to her hideout to get it.

Felicia tossed her mask off and pretended to fix her hair, running her fingers through the dyed, snow white locks. Her eyes stayed trained on the window, waiting for him to arrive. She hid her smile when she saw the familiar red gloved hand silently lift the pane up. She’d play dumb for him this once. She’d let him think he was sneaky as long as she got what she wanted from him in the end. Peter crawled through the opening and up her wall onto the ceiling. She hummed softly to herself, fanning through her hair, and patiently waiting for him to make his presence known.

Finally, he unstuck from the ceiling to land with a nearly silent thud directly behind her. She feigned a gasp of surprise for his sake. He straightened up to make himself seem taller and squared his shoulders. She couldn’t see his expression behind the mask but she assumed he’d be smug, thinking he surprised her with an ambush. She liked him best when he was cocky. His brash confidence amused her.

“Someone’s been a bad kitty. I thought you were over petty thieving?” He growled in her ear. He always deepened his voice when he wanted to be more menacing than he really was. She knew his every tick. He didn’t scare her. She’d seen him at his most vulnerable. She’d seen him whimpering and begging her to let him cum, completely undone, and drooling over her. It was impossible to be intimidating with that image stuck in mind.

Felicia replied with a curt laugh, “I wouldn’t call robbing a highly secured bank and emptying out a vault petty thieving. You’re undermining my skills. Are you trying to neg me, Spidey? Do you think it’ll make me want you more if you undervalue me?”

She refused to turn around to give him the attention he was craving. Instead, she gazed at her own reflection in the mirror. His masked face bore into her but she ignored it. He liked it when she didn’t give him the time of day. It gave him something to chase. And if there was anything she learned about Spider-Man, it was that he loved a good chase.

“What would I need to neg you for? I already have you.” The presumptuous tone of his voice shone through with every word.

She rolled her eyes in mock annoyance, “You’re an idiot. You wish you could have me. I’m out of your league, web slinger.”

They often wrestled for who would claim dominance. There was no natural pecking order between them. They seized whatever the moment allowed them, desperate and needy for whatever they could get. Tonight, she was hoping he would take charge. She wanted to give up control. She wanted him to do the heavy lifting but she’d never outright admit it.

“Someone needs to be punished for robbing banks. I caught you red handed. I’ve been following you all night.” He made it sound like that information should be a shock to her.

Felicia chuckled, sarcasm dripping from her lips, “I would have never guessed. You’re not as sneaky as you think. The red and blue don’t make for good camouflage. Next time, if you want to blend into the shadows, try taking a page out of my book, and go for the black. I think skin tight leather would look nice on you. It’d highlight your ass.”

Peter turned sideways, admiring himself in the mirror, and sticking out his behind, “You think so? The spandex already doesn’t leave much to the imagination.”

“Leather gives a nice shine. Draws the eye in.” She subtly arched her back, puffing out her chest to draw his eyes to her partially exposed cleavage, clad in black leather.

She watched his body language change, his breath catching in his throat, and his shoulders subtly tensing. He turned to push himself closer behind her. She smiled as she felt his hips press into her backside.

“You need to stop the thieving, Cat. I thought we had a deal?” His voice was gruff. She knew that meant he was turned on and was trying to fight his feelings. “The Black Cat was going to side with me from now on. You were on my side, remember? Good guys don’t rob banks.”

“My morals have always been shady, Spidey. You know this,” Felicia pouted out her bottom lip at his reflection. “Maybe I need some more convincing? How was it you persuaded me last time to join you? If I recall correctly, it involved a pair of handcuffs and a hitachi wand. Human beings are very susceptible when they’re on the brink of an orgasm. You might want to try that tatic again.”

The exhale he replied with was his sign that he was fully on board where she was taking this meeting. He wanted her as much as she needed him. Peter reached his hand up to pull off his mask.

“Wait!” Felicia caught his hand before he could expose anything more than his lips. “Leave the mask on. I like you better that way.”

She couldn’t see his eyes but she knew him well enough to know he was rolling them. His hand fell from the mask and back to his side as his shoulders deflated. The corners of his mouth turned to a frown.

“Hurts my ego every time you say that,” he huffed. “I have a perfectly decent face. You know you’re really mean, right?”

She laughed, “Good. You need to be knocked down a few pegs.” Her voice lowered into a purr to draw him back in. “And if I remember correctly, you like it when I’m mean.” She backed her ass up against his hips and wiggled over his crotch, feeling him twitch to life. “See? Someone enjoys my torment.”

Peter smirked. She liked watching the way his lips moved when he smiled. It was the only part of his face she allowed him to show. She didn’t want to know who was under the mask. She wanted Spider-Man, not the man behind him. It was easier to distance herself that way.

Felicia lifted her hand to grip onto the silver zipper dangling between her breasts. She slowly rolled it down her top, letting her bra push through, and expose her tight stomach. She watched Peter carefully through the mirror, tempting him with her seductive gaze.

It didn’t take long for him to cave. It never did.

His gloved hands raised to her shoulders to peel the leather top from her body. He discarded the garment to the floor with little care. He trailed his fingers over her black bra, tracing along the straps, until he reached the back. The bra popped off her chest and was tossed aside after her top. Peter gave an approving hum at the sight of her heavy breasts. His face nuzzled into the top of her hair as his arms ensnared around her waist.

“You’re a very bad kitty,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss her bare shoulder.

The low grumble of his words mixed with the warmth of his body rubbing behind her caused a flame to ignite in her stomach. Felicia closed her eyes, tilting her head back to rest against her Spider and gave a lazy smile, “Are you going to do something about that then?”

She could see herself on full display in the mirror. Her bare breasts with hard capped nipples hanging heavy against her chest. The indented curve of her sides, muscles rippling under her tight skin, to give way to her full hips. The way the leather pants hugged her legs, highlighting their long length, and the toned muscles of her calves. Her heeled boots blended in perfectly with the pant leg to make it seem like one piece. She liked the way he took the time to admire her body as he slowly uncovered new skin. She looked good and she knew it. If she was Spider-Man, she wouldn’t be able to resist herself either.

He urged her closer to the mirror to get a good look at her and started rubbing his hands over her sides. She always loved the way the ribbed material of his suit felt against her skin. She was almost certain he designed it that way so he could finger people without having to take off his gloves and make it feel extra nice for his partners. He seemed like the kind of sick bastard who would think about that. She wasn’t complaining. She loved cumming over his thick, gloved fingers and knowing he’d keep the lingering smell of her on them for as long as he could. She’d caught him sniffing his glove a few times in the past after one their rendezvous.

“I’ve been waiting all night for you to finish your heist. It took you twenty minutes longer than usual to rob that bank. I think you’re losing your touch,” he murmured.

Felicia smirked back at him, “It’s because of the heels. Brand new. I was breaking them in. What do you think of them? You like?”

“I’ve been watching your ass saunter around in them all night. Looked great but you lacked your usual swiftness. Can’t complain though. It gave me enough time to rub one out while you fumbled around with the stupid safe.” He cupped the weight of her breasts in each hand while he spoke.

“You were looking at my ass and jerking off? What would the public think about that, Spider-Man? The Bugle would have a field day when they found out. I am very disappointed in you. Good guys don’t creep on women without their knowledge.” This was another reason why she loved when he kept the mask on. It unleashed a darker side of him that he’d never reveal with it off. The mask gave him safety. A physical barrier between Peter Parker and Spider-Man. “Are you sure I’m the one who needs punishment? It sounds like you’ve been a very bad Spider.”

Peter growled in response, his lips curling into a smile. They were already fighting for dominance and he wasn’t going to let her win this time. He spun her around and tossed her over his shoulder. Felicia gasped, the breath being knocked from her lungs, as she felt him rip her boots from her feet. He quickly followed by peeling her skin tight pants off her legs, leaving her completely naked, and stranded over his shoulder. Any other person would have struggled to get those pants off that quickly but, with his enhanced strength, they were no match for him. Peter could throw her around with ease like she weighed nothing. He loved being able to show off his strength as if it was supposed to impress her.

A gloved hand caressed her bare ass cheek before giving it a hard smack, “No panties tonight? Naughty girl.” He dropped her back to her feet and spun her around be face to face with her reflection. She let out a quiet whine of pleasure at being forcibly man handled. Without her heels, he seemed much taller, looming behind her, than before. She wanted to feel small tonight and he was giving her exactly what she needed.

Peter dropped his hand to slide between her thighs. The movements were slow and meticulous, urging his way higher up to find his prize. Felicia gave a squeak of approval when she felt him part her lips and trace along her slit.

He rested his chin on the top of her head and grinned at her in the mirror, “You’re already soaking through my glove and I haven’t even stuck a finger in yet. Someone’s desperate.”

It was true. Right now, Peter was the only person she was currently having sex with. He was the only one she felt safe enough with to let her guard down. He might be a masked vigilante but he had a reputation of being the good guy. A hero. He’d proven himself to be a good sexual partner over the last few months. He was exciting. He could read her better than most people and knew when to pull back from going too far. As long as he kept his mask on, she was happy to let him play with her. It had been over two weeks since she last saw him. That’s why the jewel heist was necessary. The Black Cat was in desperate need of attention that only he could provide.

Light whimpers tumbled from her lips as her slick folds were expertly stroked. Every time he reached her clit, he’d twirl the tip of a finger around it, teasing her without giving her the satisfaction she was craving. Her breath was already coming in heavy pants. Her hips would roll with his fingers, trying to keep him closer to her swollen clit, but constantly being purposefully evaded to keep her begging for more. She knew she was leaking all over his palm. She could feel the wetness of his glove against her sensitive skin. There was something about being toyed with by Spider-Man, New York’s goody two shoes, that made her drip with excitement.

Finally, Peter eased in his thick, middle finger. The ribbed material of his glove gave her that added bit of pleasure. Before she even had time to open her mouth to let out a moan or adjust to the invasion, he was adding in a second.

“Yes,” she gasped.

This was exactly what she needed, her body was screaming out for a release. The tips of his fingers grazed perfectly over that delicious spot inside of her which made her knees tremble. Peter created a steady rhythm, pumping in and out of her, putting a portion of his strength into each thrust of his arm. The noises her pussy was making were positively filthy. He hooked and twisted his fingers to delve in deeper and reach every angle he could manage while her ears were filled with her own moans and the squelching, wetness of her cunt.

“Look at you,” he whispered in her ear. His free hand grabbed a fistful of her hair and shoved her face towards the mirror. “So needy for my touch. Soaking wet. Zero resistance. All it takes is two fingers for you to lose yourself. A proper whore.” He gave her a dark laugh. “Are you like that with everyone you fuck or just me?”

Felicia shook her head, gasping for air as he assaulted her throbbing pussy, “Just you, Spidey. Only you. Only you can make me feel like this.” He had no idea he was the only one she allowed to touch her these days. The less he knew, the better.

He smirked, pleased with her answer, “Are you going to be a good kitty for me from now on? Are you going to behave yourself?”

She whined, “Yes. Yes. I’ll be so good. Please.” She’d say anything if it meant he kept touching her. She grabbed for his other hand and held it between her thighs. “Please. Rub me too. I need more.”

Peter tisked his tongue at her and pulled the hand out of her grasp, “I don’t think you deserve it. If you want someone to rub your clit, you better do it yourself. Go on. Do it. Touch yourself. That’s an order.”

Her heart was racing as she slipped her own hand between her legs. She spread her thighs a little further apart and leaned her back against Peter’s chest. Everything was hot and sopping wet down there. She could feel the slickness coating her thighs and dribbling onto his hand, never ceasing from thrusting into her. The tips of her fingers found her throbbing clit and she locked eyes with the masked one as she began pleasuring herself along with him. His mouth parted while he watched intently and he quickly licked his drying lips. He was enjoying his view in the mirror.

Felicia’s breasts heaved with each heavy, panting breath. She could feel the slight creeping embarrassment heat up her face as she saw how aroused she looked in her reflection. Her face was ignited with a drooling pleasure. He had that effect on her. Whether she was taking control of him or he was of her, she was always left dissolved into a puddle of shaking orgasms by the end. She really was a proper whore when it came to Spider-Man.

Peter made a low noise of approval, “Fuck, Cat. Your walls clamp down so tight whenever your clit gets played with. I love the way you squeeze onto my fingers. So tight.”

She closed her eyes and bit down on her bottom lip to stop the obscene moans rumbling out of her. “Shut up,” she managed to spit out. “You’re no better. I’ve seen you turn into a whining, begging mess in my hands.”

He chuckled, “It was a compliment, dumbass.” His voice lowered into a satisfied purr. “I think it’s hot. Do I make you feel good?”

She grumbled in response, not wanting to give in to him too easily.

He brushed aside her snow white locks and licked up the ridge of her ear, “Come on, Cat. You know you want to answer. Tell me. Do I make you feel good?”

Felicia couldn’t help the moan that fell from her lips as he slowly eased in a third finger. She watched his lips tug into an arrogant smile.

“There we go,” he whispered. “See? It’s not that hard. Look at how well your body reacts to me. It’s like a drug every time I see it. I can’t stay away. Tell me how it good it feels to be finger fucked by Spider-Man. Tell me how much you love it and I’ll give you what you really want.”

She squeezed her eyes closed. She didn’t have to look at herself while she answered, “It feels so good. I love the feeling of your fingers stretching me. I want you inside me all the time. I dream about it every night. Why do you think I robbed a bank tonight? I wanted you to catch me. You’ve been ignoring me for two weeks. I took matters into my own hands.”

Peter slowed, pulled his soaked digits from her clenching channel, and ran them over her breasts, tweaking her nipples. She felt empty without him filling her.

“You could have just called,” he chastised her. “I have a phone, ya know.”

Felicia flashed him a smile, “But this is more fun.”

“Maybe I wanted to see how long it’d take for you to miss me?”

He gripped her hips and turned her around to face him. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she pulled him in for a kiss. She adored the feeling of his warm tongue fighting its way past her lips. He grinded his stiff bulge against her pelvis, attempting to get any kind of friction on it that he could. She humored him by palming him through his suit while he heated up the passionate kiss, moaning into her mouth and giving her a quiet whimper. Eventually he pulled himself out of her intoxicating grasp to spin her back around. She heard him fumbling with the pants of his suit and knew he was unleashing his beautiful cock.

Peter pushed himself up behind her and clasped onto her chin, guiding her attention back up to the mirror, “I want you to look at yourself while I fuck you. I want you to see what I see every time I plunge my cock into you.”

Felicia gasped when she felt the warmth of his thick head press against her folds. She did what he asked and kept her eyes focused on her own reflection. Tantalizingly slow, Peter carefully breached past her puffy lips. He pushed deeper and deeper until she was forced to bite her own finger to suppress a moan. Her eyes had widened with a desperate need and she watched the heated pleasure spread across her expression. For only a brief moment, she wished she could see the look on his face too.

She didn’t have much time to contemplate it before he was pulling back and thrusting into her. His thick appendage stretched her wide and hit deep into her with each thrust. Peter bent her over, holding her up by a fistful of hair, so she was face to face with herself in the mirror. Like he asked, she stared straight into her own dark eyes. She looked completely debauched. Sweat glistened on her forehead, her eyeliner was slightly smudged from its usually crisp cat eye, wispy strands of her straightened hair stuck to cheek and were starting to frizz up from the sweat. Her eyes were dazed and stared back at her with a lewd, helpless expression. Her open, drooling mouth gave out a constant stream of loud, shameless moans and her hot breath fogged up the glass.

“Like what you see?” He growled behind her, smirking at her reflection. “Because I know I do.”

Felicia glanced up at his lopsided mask. His tongue was hanging out from between his lips in concentration as he focused on pumping into her with a steady rhythm. His grip on her hair was the only thing keeping her from falling face first into the mirror. She couldn’t answer him if she wanted to. Her body was too preoccupied on the endless waves of pleasure coursing through her. His cock always felt so nice. She had missed it. She had missed him.

Peter yanked her back up against his chest, her back forced to arch so he could keep up his thrusts, and he steadied her by encompassing her breasts with his hands instead. One of his gloves was still soaked with her juices. It felt cold against her skin as he toyed with her nipple.

“Best set of tits I’ve ever met,” he sighed happily.

Felicia purred with enjoyment as he gripped at her soft flesh, pinching and teasing her taut nipples between his fingers. She could feel his heart pounding against her back. He was loving this as much as she was. He kept a hand massaging her beautiful breasts while the other slayed out over her stomach. He felt the hardness of her muscles and circled down the heat radiating from between her thighs. They both knew the second he found her clit, she’d be pushed over the edge.

She stared into the large whites of his exaggerated eyes and silently urged him onward. Peter’s fingers found her swollen bud and he proceeded to tenderly stoke it.

“That’s it,” he whispered. “Squeeze me tighter. So fucking tight. Good kitty. Feel that orgasm start to rise in your stomach. Look at how your nipples are getting harder. Watch the muscles tighten in your stomach. I want you to cum for me, Cat. Be a good girl and cum for your Spider. Let yourself go. Give in.”

With a high pitched whine followed by a guttural moan, Felicia’s entire body shook with rapid, jerking movements. Peter pumped into her with faster and shorter thrusts, quickly rolling his hand in tight circles over her clit, letting her get every ounce of pleasure that she could. Her soaking channel tightened around him, squeezing onto his cock, riding him like her life depended on it.

He gripped onto her chin to force her eyes back to the mirror, “Watch yourself. Look at you. Look at how beautiful you are as you cum.”

Her eyes met with her own, her vision blurring slightly from the happy tears that always welled up whenever she came. The tight coil building inside of her snapped. It radiated warmth through her entire body. A low, lewd moan fell from her parted lips. She watched the euphoric expression overtake her face, her eyes rolling back into her skull, unable to keep them focused on herself any longer. The tears fell from her eyes and rolled down her heated cheeks.

When her clenched walls finally released Peter, he slid out from inside of her. She could hear him panting behind her. He had one arm slung around her waist to keep her upright. He had yet to find his own release, not wanting to empty inside of her. As much as she wanted to collapse onto the ground and curl up, she steadied her trembling legs. She forced herself out of his tight grasp and to her knees, turning around and silently taking him into her mouth. He didn’t have to ask. He never needed to. He had been so good to her. She’d take care of her Spider in return.

Felicia wrapped her hand around his rock hard cock and placed the tip into her mouth. The moment she started to apply the slightest of suction with her lips, he went weak at the knees. She slowly lowered her head while she sucked, impaling her mouth on his shaft, and relaxing her throat so he could slide down easier. With the tight seal of her lips, she used her tongue to its full effect, teasing his head, tasting herself drenched over him, and moaning in delight as he rolled over her tongue. She relished in the pathetic whimpers falling from his lips. Spider-Man was a sucker for a good blow job. If any villain ever wanted to get the upper hand, all they’d need to do was wrap their lips around his cock and he’d be putty in their hands. He could pretend to be the dominant one all he wanted. Black Cat knew the truth. His needy sounds filled her with a certain pride knowing that she was the one to force them out of him. His cock felt nice in her mouth like it was always destined to be thrusting down her throat.

She looked up at him through her lashes. The mask had slipped up his nose and she could see his eyes peering down at her from under it. They were cast in shadow but, for a moment, they locked their gaze. He stared down at her, watching her expressions carefully, while she sucked him off. Her heart lurched at the sight. It was very rare she ever caught a real glimpse of his eyes. Felicia tore away her gaze. It was too much to handle. She wasn’t used to the man behind the mask staring back at her. Her grip around his cock loosened as her mouth went slack.

He responded to their shared, intimate moment, knowing how much she claimed to hate seeing him without his mask, by grabbing the back of her head and thrusting himself down her throat. She gagged at the sudden invasion but quickly recovered. It was his indirect way of forcing her to focus back at the task she had given herself. She straightened herself up and gripped onto his hips, working her lips to reach the base of his dick. Tears welled in her eyes. There was gurgled moaning and choking gags but she managed to take him entirely into her. She held him there for a second before pulling back with a gasp of sputtering air. A thick line of drool connected her bottom lip to the head of his cock. She gazed back up at him, a single tear streaming down her face, seeking his approval.

Peter gripped onto the back of her hair and pushed her face back towards him, “I didn’t say stop.”

She allowed him to face fuck her, his cock pumping in and out of her mouth at a furious pace. He was pissed off that she never wanted to see him without the mask. It made him feel small and unworthy. Spider-Man had a desperate need to feel wanted and loved. Felicia was great at giving him the opposite of that. It only made him chase her even more. He poured his frustration for her into the blow job, practically growling as he used her throat like a pussy. His aggression delighted her. It made her feel alive. It proved that he cared about her and what she thought of him. He wanted her to love him back. She loved knowing that she still had power over him. The cards were in her hand. She didn’t want to be the weak one. He was wrapped around her finger. No matter how dominant he tried to be, she would always hold the power. Peter gave a final grunt, lodging his cock into her mouth, and unleashing his seed down her throat.

“Fuck,” he grunted. “That’s good.”

His shoulders sagged and he stumbled backwards away from her, tugging the mask back over his face to hide any shame he may have.

Felicia swallowed every drop he gave her and wiped the thick strands of drool from her chin. She watched him carefully while he tucked his softening member back into his tight pants. She didn’t need to see his face to know he felt guilty for fucking her like that. He always felt guilty whenever he lost himself in the moment and let his emotions take control. He didn’t want to be seen as the aggressor but that was why she wanted him. Her throat would be sore tomorrow morning. She refused to tell him that she allowed him to do it. If she didn’t want him to face fuck her, she would have never gotten on her knees in the first place. She knew what she was doing.

She wasn’t usually the kind of person to offer comfort to ease anyone’s tortured conscience.

Instead, she cut his growing tension by gracefully getting back onto her feet and handing him an olive branch in the form of a sly smile, “I suppose your deal still stands, web-head. Black Cat will be back on your side and refraining from any petty thievery for the near future. For now. As long as you promise to come visit me from time to time. A girl has needs, ya know. Don’t leave me wanting you for too long. Otherwise I might get feisty.”

She watched the relief wash over him as his posture loosened. He overthought everything he did when he had no need to.

Spider-Man held up two fingers, shooting her a peace sign, and hopped up onto her window sill, “Maybe I like it when you get feisty? See ya later, Cat. Try not to dream of me! I know it’s hard. I’m irresistible.”

With those final, snarky words, he jumped out the window, leaving her standing naked and alone, like always.

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eyesxxyou · 9 months

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Fun & Games

☆🕷️。・hobie brown x blackcat!reader

rating. m

word count. 3.3k

synopsis. you and Hobie have long been playing the game of cat and spider. you chase, you fight, you fuck, you fight again, and you two love your games. but it's truly all fun and games until you manage to get your hands on an interdimensional device.

✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🐾warning: p in v sex, unprotected sex don't do that children, possessive!hobie, public sex, y/n is a real hoe and I love her for that, odd love hate relationship, clit slapping, Gwen's here very briefly, wall sex, bondage, mentions of injury, just me being horny so it's kinda horribly written, lemme know if I missed anything

"She's gotta be somewhere." Gwen sat perched on a ledge, the eyes of her mask wide and alert for any sign of the anomaly. In other words, you. You had somehow managed to get your hands on a interdimensional device of Miguel's making and have been hopping all around the multiverse causing mayhem. "You sure you have no idea where she's at? She's from your dimension after all, not to mention-"

The thing is, the devices don't show exact locations. They just tell you what dimension others are in. Leaving Gwen and Hobie hopping about right after you to put you back where you belong.

It was Hobie's fault after all. Being the Black Cat of his dimension meant you were good at sleight of hand. A single run in with you and next thing he knows his device is gone, his cock is hard, and he misses you so fucking much.

"Yeah, yeah, i's my fault or whateva." He spoke over the communicator, his eyes scanning across the streets for just a peek of that brilliant white hair of yours. "I'll keep an eye out, jus' stay where you are and don't underestimate 'er. She'll put you on ya arse before ya know it." He's gone toe to toe with you plenty of times to know that you're rather skilled in combat. And for reasons he'd also know that you're flexible.

He cut off his device, the one Miguel reluctantly gave him after laying into him over his incompetence. "You're gonna deal with this mess you've made!" He almost crushed the device in his hand from gripping it so hard as he pushed it into Hobie's chest. "You get her back to where she belongs then you're out. You're done."

Hobie honestly couldn't give less of a damn about being booted from the society. Taking orders and being a part of a team was really cramping his style. Preferred it when it was just him and his own dimension's problems.

He hopped between buildings in this dimension looking for any marker of you. Your cloud-like hair done always in wild, untamed curls that somehow manage to sit perfect around your face. You wore black leather, nice sharp spikes, claws you made yourself that left their scar against his chest as well as down his back.

Hobie liked how complicated your relationship is. How you constantly kept him on his toes, remained so inconsistent that he never got bored. One second you were on your knees, his cock weighing heavy on your pretty tongue, just narrowly missing the angel bite piercings you had with fangs in, and the next, you were trying to claw his eyes out of his face. You were batshit fucking insane and he was absolutely in love with you though, he'd never admit that.

He hoped he found you before Gwen did— it's been just a little under a month and he's been feening for you, spending his lonely nights when he doesn't have a million wounds and a few broken bones to tend to with his hand wrapped firmly around his cock and your name wetting his lips with prayer. He's fucking pussy-whipped, desperate, absolutely nuts for you.

And when he finds you (which he always does somehow), you're hopping across a rooftop and sliding down a gutter into a nearby alleyway. He follows you stealthily, lingering in the shadows as he rounds the corner and drops into the shady alley. But he finds you aren't there. He pauses, talks a moment to let his instincts take the lead.

It just took a second, a small tingle, the hairs on the back of his neck standing but he hardly had any time to react before you were on his back with your claws pressed against his throat. "Ya missed me?" You whispered in his ear with the touch of a smile in your voice.

Hobie moved quickly, pushing the both of you back until your back slammed against the jagged brick wall and your grip loosened just enough for him to pry himself out of your clawed hold. He webbed you up with your hands trapped above your head. Your goggles were already pushed up into your wild hair and your cat-like eyes gleamed at him. "I'd say you do."

Hobie reached up and pulled off his mask. “Nice to see ya too, Y/N. We can have our reunion once ya back where ya belong.”

“Never took you as the type to join a committee of interdimensional spider fascist.” You scoff, wriggling your wrist against the binding of his webs but you know all too well how strong they actually are. Many times have you been caught in his web, bent in all sorts of positions. He’s always been your favorite toy.

“No’ by choice. You did me a fava’ actually, they gave me the boot ‘cause of you.” He came close, his tall, lean stature looming over you as he removed the watch from your wrist and deactivated it. Hobie looked down at you, looking into your sultry eyes that told him you just wanted to sit on his dick then make your grand escape. You’re always dressed in leather, your shorts so tight and small it leaves hardly anything to the imagination. You were wearing those torn up, distressed tights he loved so much and that he’s definitely torn his own fair share of holes in.

“Don’t you want to know why I went to the places I did?”

“There’s a reason?” He thought it was just you fucking around, trying to cause as much mayhem as possible, begin a nice little collection of diamonds stolen from different dimensions. Your motivations were always a bit hard to decipher.

You leaned in as close as you could in the position you were stuck in and whispered to him, “All the dimensions I went to had a version of you in them. I wanted to see which one was my favorite.” It was a confession of sin just between the two of you in this dark little alleyway he had you stuck in. “Would you like me to tell you about the other yous I’ve met?” You took his stoic silence as answer enough.

“There was one with the prettiest eyes. One blue and one brown. I got to look in them while I rode his pretty face. He made me cum so hard.” Your voice was so heavy with the memory of it but you didn’t linger. “And the other one, nice, long locs. He fucked me so good my legs were shaking. Oh- and the other one made me squirt for the first time-”

Your descriptions sparked something primal in Hobie, something carnal and possessive. A part of him was aroused at the thought of your pretty little cunt he was absolutely addicted to getting ran through by different versions of himself. Maybe you were just as obsessed with him as he was with you, why else would you do something like this?

“You a lil’ whore, ya know tha’, kitty?” His hands were already at the waist of your shorts, undoing the makeshift button you had made after he broke the original one a while ago. His lips were on yours, licking and biting feverishly in attempt to get a taste of you. “Guess I gotta remind you who you belong to.” He needed to tame your pretty little pussy, domesticate it, make it purr for him.

“I don’t belong to anyone, you know that.” You murmur against his lips, shifting your hips to make it easier for him to get your shorts out of the way. He pulled them down to your knees just above your boots and shifted away from you to duck under and slot his way between your nylon-clad thighs. He trailed kisses up the length of your body as he made his way back up, shoving your torn shirt up so his lips could feel your heated skin. “I’d beg to diffa, luv. I think you know ya slutty pussy belongs to me because why else would you hop aroun’ the multiverse just to hook up wit’ me ova and ova again?” He forced your shirt up over your tits, leaving you nice and exposed, unable to do anything about it even if you wanted.

“I’ve just gotta show you tha’ the original is always the bes’.” He had no time to take his time, to worship every inch, every curve, every dimple. He wanted his cock in you, he wanted to fuck you hard, fast, and deep. He wanted to destroy that pride of yours and force you to admit that he will always be your favorite.

He knows that's just how you like it. Rough, quick, and almost animalistic with a hint of risk. You can't get off without it.

He tears a new hole in your tights right that the crotch and finds that your panties are already soaked, the vague outline of your plump pussy pressing against the fabric that clings to you like a second skin. He gets so hard at just the sight of it, so hard it becomes painful. "I's been a long fuckin' time." Hobie breathed out under his breath. "Ma favorite girl missed me I can see." He pressed the bulge of his cock against your wet, desperate cunt.

Your muscles tense and shudder uncontrollably as your lips attempt to contain a horrid little whimper. You weren't usually so sensitive, Hobie could feel your thighs clamping at his hips in an attempt to close your legs. His fingers slid past your panties and pulled them to the side just to find that your pussy was already pink and swollen, abused and misused by all the cocks you've already taken. You were so damn sensitive, your bud throbbing and engorged.

Hobie couldn't help but let out a chuckle, a smirk framing the scoff he let out. "A fuckin' slut, I tell you. You've already been so damn ran through." He slapped your pussy nice and firm and your whole body jolted with the pain and pleasure it caused and you cried out a little too loud.

"Migh' wanna be quiet. Ya don't wan' someone coming down and seeing your poor cut gettin' abused." His fingers slid between your slick folds, every part of you tender to the touch, every movement leaving your body trembling. It's pathetic how quickly he can have you and squeaking, whining, crying mess. A street cat tame by those long, slender fingers of his as he plays in your mess, a reminder of all the other hims you've had. You had been out on a conquest and somehow it's ending with you getting conquered.

It was easy for him to glide his fingers into your heat, the pad of his thumb drawing circles on your poor clit while he used his other hand to grab your chin and force you to look him in the eyes. "Can you feel tha'?' Your cunt was swallowing his digits down to the knuckle and squeezing. "Nice lil' kitty is purrin' fo' me. Think I migh' make 'er a house cat."

"Go fuck yourself." You manage to choke out between the strangled moans of your throat. Hobie chuckled and kissed you, nice and hard with his tongue against yours and his fingers playing your pussy like a fiddle. God, he was so good at what he did, knew just where your sweet spot was to have you crumbling in his hold.

He pulled back a little, both of your lips wet with saliva, and nipped at your bottom lip. His fingers pumped in and out of your trembling pussy that wept for him, your slick dripping from his knuckles. You writhed against your restraints, claws sawing at his webbing to little avail. And you knew his fingers were nothing compared to that gorgeous cock of his that fit in you so snuggly and touched places that, before him, you hadn’t even known existed.

But his fingers were so good, able to caress your walls in ways his length couldn’t. His thumb rubbed your clit ferociously, sending spiked balls of pleasure to every muscle in your body. You spasmed, back arching off the walls, eyes rolling, vision blurry. “S-stop fuckin’ with me.” You manage to spit out at him in a shaking gasp.

“But fuckin’ wit’ ya is my favorite part.” Hobie slipped his fingers from your messy hole and took it upon himself to get a taste. “Plus, i’s no’ like you show me any mercy when ya in one of ya moods. I’ve gotta point to prove here.” His hands began to undo his belt with rushed persistence.

“And what point is that?” You watch him pull himself out, the length of his cock pressed against your pelvis. Prettiest you’ve ever seen, nice and long with subtle veins and dark brown tip beading with pearls of precum that weep from his tip and roll down the underside of his shaft.

Hobie maneuvered (more like manhandled) your fame so that your legs were up over his shoulders. He spat on his fingers, used it as lube to spread down his length. “Tha’ you ‘n I both know you can’t replace me with some off brand version.”

“Oh, I’d argue they were very on brand. All had that pretty face of yours. That prettier cock.” Your words faltered a bit as he pushed into you without so much as a warning, jealousy getting the better of him. His fingers grip your thighs, body pressing you into the wall while his hips rutted against you. He fucked you like an animal, his teeth gritting, his cock brutalizing your used up cunt. And the position allowed him to sink so deep you felt him in your gut, in your throat, in your very head. He fucked the air out of your lungs but that didn’t stop your cries of pleasure.

And as pretty as they were, Hobie didn’t need the two of you being stumbled upon. He placed his palm over your mouth, kept you placid and quiet white he fucked you with intention. He was gonna claim your pussy, paint it white, make it his, let you know that no matter how hard you try the two of you will always find yourself dancing to this same song. You’d fight, you’d fuck, you’d fight again, you’d fuck again. Sometimes you were allies, sometimes you were enemies, but at all times you were lovers.

He spanked your swollen clit while he fucked you in such a brutal nature. There was no sympathy for you, no mercy, no kindness offered. Just carnality unmatched by any of your other affairs. It might be the spider venom bound to his DNA making him this way. Hobie– normal Hobie, rational Hobie– was not a jealous person, especially not towards someone who, in all cases, did not belong to him.

The emotions of it were conflicting. The mixture of jealousy and arousal at the thought of you with another version of himself because in all the ways that made him who he was on paper was, he was with you every single time. Genetically, generally, the vague outline of himself. But the experiences were different, slightly tweaked in a way, and in the way that matters you had fucked entirely different people. And that was the fun of it. What would be the point of sleeping with the same person over and over again if not for the slight differences every time.

Hobie wondered if they made you feel this way, your back arching so dramatically off the wall, your eyes going cross with pleasure as your moans are contained behind his palm. The two of you had so much shared history that even if they were better, it still wouldn't compare. He knew you like he knew many things, on a level balanced by emotion and technicality.

The two of you were never meant to be anything more than this, a quick, filthy fuck in the back alley of some random place and yet you both were sure you were soulmates in some sick twisted way. You'd both go around in these pointless circles having the most fun with never making the effort to define yourselves or restrict yourselves to something that wasn't completely and entirely you.

Your toes curled in your boots as you felt the brutality of an orgasm coming your way. It built within you, clawing to get out like you clawed through the webs. It seized you like being strangled, curled around your body, left you warm and fuzzy and delirious.

"Look a' me, luv. Look a' me with those pretty eyes of yours." The way he fixed your face forward, made you look him in the eyes. "Nice lil' pussy gonna make me cum." Your walls spasmed, hugged him, squeezed around his length, molding to every curve, every vein. If only his hand weren't over your mouth, you'd kiss his pretty lips and tell him to shut the fuck up and just fuck you, just lose himself in you.

And oh, was he losing himself. An orgasm quickly approaching on the horizon. Hobie pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes low and sultry as he removed his hand from your mouth and gripped your thighs once more. "Fuck-" Hobie gasps and shudders, his abdomen tightening with the beginnings to a climax.

"Go ahead, pretty boy. You said you have a point to prove, right? Go ahead and prove it." You watched in breathless pants as he takes his pleasure in you, comes undone for you, his fingertips pressing bruises into your supple skin. "You're my favorite, my pretty boy." You confess to him. In all versions, you were simply looking for him, something you didn't find, no matter how eerily similar they all were.

Hobie murmurs something incoherent under his breath as he cums. He's swift with pulling out, just in time to spill his hot semen all over your heat. He claimed you like he always wanted to, with the way his hands left bruises in your skin, with the way his trembling cock spread his cum all over you, how his lips claimed yours in a moment of passion.

"You can stop pretendin' to be trapped now." Hobie murmured against your lips, pulling away and running his thumb across your kiss-swollen bottom lip before making himself decent. You had long sawed your way through his webs, they never last that long. You let your arms drop. "Finally, they were startin' to hurt."

Hobie removes himself from your body, letting you take the time to get yourself together. "How much time do I have this time?" It was back to business as usual, not that either of you minded. You both enjoyed your games.

"A minute before I call my partna. Two before I start chasin' you myself." He always gave you a bit of a head start, maybe out of some soft spot he had for you. Sometimes he caught you, sometimes he didn't, it was all up to chance.

You pull your goggles out of you disheveled hair and fix them over your eyes. You lean into him, close enough that he thought you might kiss him. "I'll try not to break your nose this time, lovely." You peck his lips as a distraction as you slip your hand into the pocket of his vest and attempt to steal your stolen watch back.

Hobie's already thinking one step ahead of you. His hand grasps your wrist. "No' tha' generous. An' you've got 'bout 40 seconds lef'. Better get goin'." He's dealt with your bullshit more times than he can count. He knows what goes on in that pretty head of yourself, how you're always scheming, even against him— especially against him."

You scoff then chuckle. "Fine— c'ya 'round, Bee." You turn and rush off, grasping a gutter to leap up on the rooftop and run off.

You both love your fun and games.

#across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #hobie brown #atsv #spiderman #hobie brown fic #hobie brown smut #spider punk #black cat #hobie x reader

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