A Chase Through the Night: Spider-Man vs. Black Cat
Perched atop the tallest building in the city, Peter let the cool night air wash over him as he gazed down at the city below.
Tonight had been a reminder of the worst parts of his job—the lives lost, the destruction, the sheer cruelty of people like Tombstone.
He had won.
But the cost was high.
And Peter hated it.
He needed to be better. To stop this from happening again.
Lost in thought, his fingers drummed against the ledge when—
A blur of movement.
A figure in black, moving with feline grace, darting across the rooftops below.
Peter's eyes narrowed as he focused on her.
A woman—athletic, fast, and skilled, leaping from building to building with perfect precision.
A thief.
She clutched a stolen painting in one hand while maneuvering through the rooftops like she owned them.
Peter sighed, stretching his arms.
"Can't even have five minutes to brood in peace?" he muttered.
Then, in one smooth motion—
He jumped.
Peter swung low, keeping his eyes locked on the thief as she vaulted over an air vent, somersaulted off the edge of a building, and landed perfectly on the next rooftop.
Damn.
She wasn't just fast—she was experienced.
Who the hell was she?
Peter shot a web toward her, aiming for the painting—
But just as the web was about to grab it, the thief twisted mid-air, dodging the shot like she saw it coming.
"Not bad, Spidey," she said, her voice playful, but controlled.
She kicked off a billboard and gained more distance.
Peter frowned.
Okay, she's good.
Most criminals panicked when Spider-Man showed up. But she? She was having fun.
Peter pushed forward, swinging ahead to cut her off—
Only for her to suddenly change direction, running toward the edge of the building and—
Jumping off.
Peter's heart jumped into his throat.
"Is she insane?"
But instead of falling to her death, the thief flipped backwards in mid-air, shot a grappling line from her wrist, and swung in a perfect arc, landing gracefully on another building.
A grappling hook?
That's when it clicked.
"…Wait a second."
Her agility. Her skill. Her ridiculous acrobatics.
And now a grappling hook?
This was Black Cat.
Peter groaned.
"Of course it's you."
Peter picked up speed, flipping over an AC unit and firing three webs in rapid succession.
The first one, she dodged.
The second, she rolled under.
But the third—
SNAP.
It wrapped tightly around her waist, yanking her to a halt mid-run.
"Whoa—!" Black Cat twisted, trying to break free, but Peter had already pulled her back toward him.
She landed on the rooftop with a soft grunt, her wrist still clutching the painting.
Peter crouched in front of her, arms folded.
"Okay, Black Cat," he said. "Care to explain why you're running around stealing art like a Saturday morning cartoon villain?"
Black Cat smirked, completely unfazed by being caught.
"First of all, it's midnight, not morning," she teased.
Peter's eye twitched.
"And second…" She twirled the painting between her fingers. "I wasn't stealing from good people. This belonged to a criminal."
Felicia Hardy, known in the underworld as Black Cat, was a woman who exuded confidence with every step she took.
Her life had been forged in skill and ambition, molded by her father, Walter Hardy—a legendary cat burglar. From an early age, she was taught never to settle for second best, never to play supporting roles in life.
If she liked basketball? She should aim to be the star player, not the cheerleader.
If she wanted to be the best thief? Then she should become untouchable.
She trained relentlessly in martial arts, acrobatics, stealth, and all the skills necessary to make her a phantom in the night.
Felicia was intelligent, beautiful, and resourceful—qualities that made life exceptionally easy for her. But her life took a dark turn in college.
A senior student had drugged her drink, planning something disgusting.
Unfortunately for him, Felicia was no ordinary girl.
Even in her drugged state, her instincts took over.
One solid kick to the groin, and the man was left writhing on the floor in agony.
Felicia had walked away unscathed.
And instead of fear, she had felt something else entirely—
Excitement.
That night, something awakened inside her. The thrill of danger, the rush of taking control.
She didn't fear criminals, the law, or even heroes.
She just wanted the thrill of the challenge.
Felicia had been operating in Manhattan, slowly building her legend.
She wasn't careless—she kept close watch on the city's crime forces, law enforcement, and especially the costumed heroes.
She knew about Spider-Man.
And she knew one simple fact—if he seriously wanted to stop her, she had no chance of escaping.
He was faster, stronger, and had reflexes beyond human limits.
So, Felicia planned ahead.
She had multiple escape plans in case she was caught:
Seduction. She was drop-dead gorgeous, and most men couldn't resist.
Insanity. Acting crazy could sometimes make heroes lower their guard.
Moral Justification. If she stole from criminals, some heroes might look the other way.
But as she stood before Spider-Man, she realized something interesting.
He was young, just like her.
And he had a trained, athletic body—flexible, built for movement and combat.
Even through the mask, his voice gave him away. He was annoyed.
Either a personal issue or a crime-fighting incident gone wrong.
Felicia didn't know about the Harlem incident—she had been busy with her burglary.
Now, she had to deal with him.
"You stole this from a crime lord? Are you sure about that?" Spider-Man asked.
He held the expensive painting, inspecting it carefully after pulling away the cover.
Felicia smirked, crossing her arms.
"You can check out the place where I got it from," she offered casually. "I'll even lead you there if you want. Or, if you're the trusting type, I can just give you the address."
She tilted her head, letting her silver hair shimmer under the moonlight.
"Come on, look at me. Do I really seem so bad?"
Peter wasn't stupid.
This was his first time speaking to a woman like Felicia Hardy—one who was both gorgeous and dangerous.
The way she spoke, the way she moved—everything about her was crafted to attract attention.
And it was working.
His eyes kept lingering on her curves, her confident smirk, her piercing green eyes.
Then—
A realization.
'She's affecting me somehow.'
Peter's mind was sharp. He wasn't the type to fall for simple tricks, and yet—he felt drawn to her.
She hadn't moved.
She hadn't used any mind tricks.
Which meant—
A scent.
Felicia licked her lips, watching Peter's reaction with amusement.
She could feel the subtle change in him, the way his eyes stayed on her longer than they should have.
'He's resisting…'
How interesting.
"Or," she purred, her voice dropping slightly, "do you want something else? Something… pleasurable?"
Peter's grip on the painting tightened.
He wasn't some innocent, clueless kid—he knew exactly what she was doing.
And yet—
His instincts screamed at him to stay focused.
This woman wasn't just a thief—she was a predator in her own way.
And right now?
She was playing with her prey.
Peter's grip on the webbed-up Felicia remained firm as he swung through the New York skyline, completely ignoring her amused expressions and subtle wriggling.
"You know, this is kind of intimate, Spidey," she teased, her voice full of mischief. "I usually don't let men hold me this close unless they buy me dinner first."
Peter rolled his eyes behind the mask.
"I'm sure prison food will be an exciting first date for you," he shot back.
Felicia smirked, enjoying his resistance. Most men would have melted in her hands by now, but Spider-Man?
He was different.
That only made her more interested.
Following Felicia's directions, Peter made his way to the penthouse of a known crime lord.
It didn't take long to confirm her story.
The place was untouched, no alarms had been triggered, and the missing painting hadn't even been noticed yet.
Felicia had executed the heist flawlessly.
She was no common thief—her skills were on another level.
"See?" Felicia hummed, dangling from his webbing like a luxurious package. "I was right."
Peter sighed. "Yeah, you were."
With a controlled motion, he landed on a nearby rooftop and dissolved the webs binding her.
Felicia landed gracefully, unfazed—like she had never been caught in the first place.
Peter had set his webs to different dissolving times—a necessity. The last thing he needed was to leave steel-strong webbing all over the city.
Felicia stretched her arms, rolling her shoulders as she freed herself.
"Well," she purred, stepping closer. "I had fun, Spidey. A unique experience, if I do say so myself. And I believe you deserve a… reward."
Peter narrowed his eyes as she approached, her movements fluid, calculated.
"What are you—"
Before he could react, she kissed him.
The scent—stronger now—filled his senses.
It wasn't a normal kiss.
It wasn't even on his lips—his mask was still on.
But his body reacted before his mind could catch up.
For a brief moment, he kissed back.
His hands found her waist, fingers squeezing before his mind snapped back into place.
He abruptly pulled away, shaking off the haze.
"What the hell are you trying to do?" he demanded, stepping back.
Felicia licked her lips, looking pleased. "That was unexpectedly thrilling," she admitted.
Peter clenched his jaw. His spider-sense hadn't triggered, meaning she wasn't actively dangerous—but she was dangerous in a different way.
She was playing a game.
And she was winning.
"How about we team up?" Felicia suggested casually.
Peter blinked. "Excuse me?"
"We could steal from the bad guys together," she purred. "Think about it. No boring hero work, just us, taking from the worst scum in the city and making a fortune. Wouldn't that be fun?"
Peter scoffed.
"Not interested," he said flatly. "And you need to stop before you get yourself killed—or worse."
Felicia rolled her eyes, grinning. "Aww, come on. Is that really fun, Spidey? You're risking your life for free. At least with me, you'd get something in return."
Peter folded his arms. "You just contradicted yourself."
"No, I didn't."
"Yes, you did."
Felicia smirked. "I said you'd get a reward for saving me."
Peter could see through her act.
She was a seductress, someone who thrived on pushing boundaries, getting reactions, and controlling the flow of conversation.
There was no point wasting time.
Without another word, he turned and jumped off the building.
Felicia blinked. "Wait—HEY!"
Her voice echoed in the night as she watched Spider-Man disappear into the darkness.
Then—
She burst out laughing.
"Hahaha, oh this feeling is so good."
Her heart raced with excitement.
She had never met someone like him before.
He wasn't like the easily manipulated fools she usually toyed with.
No—he was different.
And now?
She had a new game to play.
Felicia leaned against the rooftop's ledge, staring out into the city.
How do I get his attention again?
She smirked.
Like a cat fixated on her next toy, she was already plotting her next move.