Spider-Man and Silk -- Courtship Rituals

Cindy Moon had been out to brunch. She'd been pulled out of that, leaving her jumpsuit behind. She'd figured this would happen today -- if she ended up needing to go do something else she'd have woven a fast drapy shirt to wear over it, but nope. Here was Spider-Man, just as expected. He'd tagged her hand with a web and hauled her up into the air, her grey hero duds out on display. She twisted herself around the webline like a member of Cirque du Soliel, pulling the red bandana style mask she wore up over the lower half of her face. Using her claws, she cut Spidey's line even as she threw her other arm forward, fingers twisting and weaving the strands of fluid that were pumping out of her fingers and forearms -- tagging into her own slung web and letting her swing up high, doing a double somersault in front of Spider-Man before casting the next line. 'Webslinging' was almost stupidly fun, really. "So is this a patrol, or are there specific butts that need specific kicking?! Specifically!"

"Eh, I figure we start with patrol, and then we see where the morning takes us! I had my professional calendar cleared yesterday, after all! Hey -- what's your current job, anyway?"

"Well, after SHIELD imploded and took their Academy with it, I started doing freelance work with Mockingbird and sometimes Spider-Woman." Silk meant Jessica Drew when she said the latter -- she was confident that Spider-Man would know that. "Honestly, I've been trying to figure out what's next! I have a good handle on my powers and I'm a lot better acclimated -- so Inanna couldn't have come at a better time, for me!"

"Inanna?"

"Our thing! Just a name I threw out! MJ seemed to--" Silk paused, the strands of the future and present tangling in her mind's eye. "Spider! Go two blocks northbound -- ready to intercept SUV out of control bus collision! I'm on the cause!"

Spider-Man might have asked questions when they were first getting to know each other. These days, at the very least he trusted Silk's silk-sense enough to move when she said move! He picked up the pace while Silk threw out a counter-line. Porous, so it had more spring to it, stretching long then snapping her back in the direction they'd come.

Silk did another forward roll, working her fingers and spinning out a barrier web blocking people from stepping out into the street. She watched a car tearing through traffic, ramming an SUV on the side and sending it northbound, out of control, its occupant panicked and foot jammed on the accelerator. Not her problem -- that was Peter's.

There were angry people her barrier cut off, until the offending car -- truck really -- essentially slid along the web and was bounced back toward traffic. Silk grinned under her bandana. She was in a speed-gathering long swing down, then releasing her line, spinning streams ahead of her -- more porous strands, intersecting the road this time--

The truck hit the lines, which stretched long but drained momentum out of the vehicle. Its wheels spun helplessly as it hit the farpoint of the stretch -- just in time for the still flinging forward Silk to spin one broad, chaotic web across its windshield, blocking the driver's vision, and throwing a second -- again porous -- line to hit the truck's roof, stretching in her hand and then yanking her back down to land on the truck, where she 'wall-crawl' clung even as her retaining lines snapped back, causing the van to skid backwards. Silk grinned again. Getaway car surfing was fun!

Spider-Man, in the meantime, had just swung out over the intersection Silk had indicated when the SUV careened -- straight towards a bus's path. His spider-sense wasn't as acute or versatile as Silk's silk-sense, but he'd been honing it for a lot of years, so when it screamed danger he listened! His web-shooters and artificial webbing lacked Silk's versatility as well, but beat her stuff for tensile strength, self-cleanup, and predictability. In this case, he used a standard setting to brace a net in the SUV's path -- the same kind of trick as what Silk had done to the truck, though he didn't know that. He just had to reduce its speed while he hit a building's wall and kicked off, twisting in air--

Spider-Man hit the bus almost halfway along its length, right where the SUV was going to t-bone it. The SUV arrived, slightly later thanks to the net, but fast enough that Spidey had to catch it and absorb as much impact as possible as smoothly as possible, to prevent injuries to anyone in the SUV or on the bus. The impact was enough to shake the bus back and forth, and the front grill of the SUV compressed in -- popping the airbags inside, he noticed -- but it snapped back, letting Spidey spring up and away from it, shooting another web to swing back towards Silk's end of the encounter.

"All right, Spider-Man!" one guy on the sideline shouted.

Spiderman half turned and threw a salute even as he swung out and away. "All part of the friendly neighborhood service!" he shouted back. "Call 911 and get an ambulance -- there may be whiplash cases!"

Back at the truck, Silk surfed as it skidded -- the rest of oncoming traffic having stopped. At exactly the right moment she threw herself down to the pavement, slapping one hand on the side door of the panel truck and adhering at her mental command. Her foot hit the pavement and did the same, and Silk yanked, tearing the door off and sending it skidding away from herself even as she did a backward somersault, spinning a blob of webbing straight into the now-open truck.

Three crooks, a bunch of stolen gear, all caught in a veritable explosion of sticky. No hands near weapons.

"Nice!" Spider-Man shouted as he swung overhead. Silk was already springing up and spinning out a line to join him. "The cops are almost here--"

"They'll be here in eighteen seconds! They can handle it from here!" Silk shouted, waving to the crowd as she did a long arc on her line, then began spinning and slinging ahead, faster now. "C'mon! Got a thing!"

"Another thing? Spider-Man shouted, webslinging to try and keep up. His spider-sense was always overwhelmed by Silk's presence, which both made him intensely attracted to her and meant he couldn't really sense her the way he could opponents. Too much interference. Which Silk seemed to be able to screen out on her part. Bloody unfair, if you asked Spider-Man.

"You'll like this one!" she shouted, swinging faster and higher, building up altitude in the canyons of Manhattan. "Crimefighting's just foreplay!"

Spider-Man laughed, following the lithe figure as she worked up to the higher altitudes in New York, swinging and kicking off buildings, until she angled for a triangular radio tower coming up off a building. Spider-Man kept up easily -- she was faster and her senses sharper, but he was stronger and had been webslinging for years. Sometimes he worried that Silk thought she was more advanced than she was, but...

Silk hit the tower and began weaving in and out of the structure, moving up higher. "Try to keep up, old man!" she shouted. "Or can't you catch me?" She grinned, pausing to wiggle her tights-clad ass at him, then pulled up higher.

"Old man?" Spider-Man shouted back, scaling along the outside to get above her quickly. "We're literally the same age."

"You're seven weeks older and I'm young in spirit! You were born 52 years old!" She giggled, dropping down the middle of the tower, falling about a story before catching herself and sliding out on the opposite side of the tower from Spider-Man.

"Are you kidding me?" Spider-Man shouted back. "Arrested development and young in spirit are not the same thing. He dropped down onto a level, shifting and turning even as she swept back in, springing up to pounce--"

And blinking as he hit sticky webstrands. They'd been nearly invisible in the sunlight, since they were so thin, and of course his Spider-Sense was in overdrive when he was near Silk--

And right now? He was very near Silk, as she pressed up against him. The strands seemed to have stuck her as well -- intentionally, apparently. "Oh no," she murmured against his mask covered ear. "We're trapped."

"Is that what we're calling it?" Spider-Man murmured back, shifting an arm around Silk.

"Good a word as any." She slid her bandana down, and peeled his mask up to his nose, sliding close enough to kiss him...

Peter shivered, Cindy's lips touching his and their teeth gliding over each other. Her tongue tasted his lips, and she moaned slightly. Their joined senses seemed to intensify, focusing them on each other. As a side effect, the pair both pumped out intense pheromones -- ones specific just to each other, as near as they could tell, and Peter's head almost swam as they kissed.

"So I took your advice," Cindy murmured, her hands sliding down Peter's back...

"Well, there's a change," Peter murmured back, chuckling. "On what."

"Hidden convenience crotch in the work clothes." She giggled... sliding her hand to his front, teasing his hips and causing an almost electric thrill up his spine and through his midsection.

"Oh. Good plan," he answered, moaning slightly. "Never fun to have to strip naked to pee." He gasped as her fingers found and released his own 'convenience,' working his sport underwear down in the process.

"Oh, totally. To...ta...ly." She slid one long leg around his, and then up along his body... her other leg joining it, letting her web support her as she hooked him... and he could feel the head of his engorged penis grazing her skin alongside her slightly swollen labia, and knew she was just as open as he was.

"We're... pretty out in the open," he murmured.

"We're inside a radio tower two hundred feet above a skyscraper with no other skyscrapers near us. And I'd feel a helicopter or flying perv in armor if they were nearby." She chuckled. "And so what if they did go by? You think the worst thing that could happen is Spider-Man and Silk boning on TMZ?"

"You worked in the media... for Jonah. You want to explain to him why Silk was boning that menace?" He kissed along her neck.

"He likes you now."

"He always liked you."

"And I always liked you. Shut up about Jameson. Perv." She kissed him again--

Her hips pushed forward, her legs pulling him in, and he impaled Silk, causing them both to gasp.

"...oh God," Peter moaned. "I... forgot..."

"...how electric this is?" Silk began moving, feeling Spider-Man move in time with her. Like a dance, high above the air, caught in her web. Spider courtship. Only without bits of him breaking off or her killing him afterward.

Well, probably.

Peter moaned again, moving faster -- it all felt incredibly natural and surreal all at once -- like something bigger than either of them was orchestrating every thrust, every shift to the side, every grind and every hip-push.

"...oh God that's it," Cindy whispered. "Do that. Do me. Take me. Mate me. Breed me, Peter..."

"...wh-what?" Peter said, his hips moving faster, her words causing that electric thrill through his body again.

"You heard me," Cindy moaned, clenching him with her inner muscles and milking him rhythmically. "You know that's what this is all leading up to. Breed me, Parker..."

"You're on... I helped you get on birth control..."

"Gynecologist took me off that pill," Cindy said, her hips speeding up, shifting to look into his eyes. His eye-covers made that tricky, but Cindy could 'see' with more than sight. She smiled, ferally. "C'mon. Faster."

"W-we can't!"

"We can. We are..." she hissed. "And don't get high and mighty on me. You came in Gwen all fucking night, you can come in me now!" And despite his words, he hadn't slowed down. Honestly, he was hammering her harder. "That's it. I can take it. Of all your lovers and fuckbuddies I'm the one who can take a pounding from you!"

"Ho-how'd you... know--"

"I saw Plan B in your trash. But I'm not taking that. That's the pill that fucks my hormones. Go on. Stop, Peter. Pull out. Come on my suit or my thigh or pour your seed down the tower. Do that. I dare you to pull out. Because you don't want to. You want to fuck me... you want to mate me..."

"...Oh G-god -- Cindy, n-no--"

"Yes!" she hissed. "I'm not stopping you. Pull out. Throw water on this. Pull out and tell me what a bad girl I'm being. Or shut up and fuck me!"

And with a moan ripping out of his body through his throat, Peter fucked Cindy. Harder. Faster. Her body doing the same. The webs holding them up shaking -- their costumes in place except those two openings that made this possible. Shuddering. Thrusting. Unable to stop. Unable to hold--

"...Cindy we c-ca... Cindy--"

"YES!" Cindy howled, and with a scream and their muscled twisting and bodies writhing against each other they came -- together, as they always did, that syncing along with their senses. They shuddered as Peter poured into her again and again -- so much so fast--

They screamed again, aftershocks ripping through them both, before both of them felt their bodies almost shut down from overload, collapsed against each other, held in the nigh-invisible strands of Silk's web.

---

Spider Man was leaning against the outside of the tower, sticking in place. Silk was next to him.

"C'mon. Talk to me," she said.

Spider-Man didn't say anything.

"You're being all quiet now but you're gonna talk to me."

Spider-Man still didn't say anything.

"I don't think I ever felt you come that hard. You may be pissed but tell me--"

"Tell you what?!"

"There it is!"

Spider-Man looked at Silk. "You can't just sit there and be smug, Cin. That -- that was wrong on every level!"

"But it felt so right, Peter..."

"Cindy, we're not going to have a baby without talking about it and thinking about it first. Unless we are because--"

"Of course we're not." She giggled. "I'm not actually fertile."

"Another word for Rhythm method practitioners is parents, Cindy! There is no time of the month I can come inside you--"

"That's not what I mean!" She giggled. "I wasn't unprotected."

"--what? You said--"

"I said the gynecologist took me off those pills. That was no lie. They weren't a good fit." She giggled again. "So she put me on Yaz. My skin's never been clearer."

Peter stared at her.

"What?" she asked, chipperly.

"You made me think--"

"I made you breed me, Peter." She looked back at him. "Because that's what our bodies are demanding. Of course I wasn't going to take a chance at pregnancy, but oh my God your reaction when you thought I was."

"I can barely control myself with you when we're fully clothed and drinking lattes! Half-way through sex I'm--"

"And hold on just a second. If you're that concerned, where's your fucking prophylactic? Why aren't you on the male pill? Or the injection or implant? Why is it my job to make sure you can fire live ammo in me and not hit a target. I don't think for one second you couldn't stop yourself with me, no matter what our powers and brains and pheromones demand! I know that because I could have stopped, and you've got a lot stronger will than I do!" She leaned closer. "I implied this was a life fire exercise and you sped up, all while moaning that we couldn't do this."

"It's not your job. But I literally helped you get on birth control. Don't you tell me I'm wrong for assuming you'd tell me if that changed before we started!"

"And is that what you told Gwen? Before or after she took Plan B. What about Mary Jane? You wrap that rascal with her last night?"

"Gwen and I made a mistake, which we won't repeat. And I know absolutely proof positively that Mary Jane would tell me if her birth control strategy changed!"

"It doesn't matter, Peter! You fucked her without a condom the night after you fucked Gwen without a condom, when you fucking know Norman Osborn fucked Gwen first! You and me? We're immune to most disease! You think Mary Jane is?"

Peter froze. "...oh my God."

"Yeah. Oh your god. Jesus Christ." Silk wrapped her arms around herself.

Peter sat there for a long moment. "That was still a dick move," he said. "You don't..."

"Jesus, Peter. I thought it would be hot. And it was. For both of us." She shook her head. "And I shouldn't have done it and I'm sorry. Okay. I really am."

"...me too." He shivered. "It was really hot. Really hot."

"Yeah. So maybe get Ollie to clear us out of sexually transmitted diseases? And... you know... give us all perfect birth control until we and our partner mutually decide to have a baby?"

"I should have done that already. This... is part of why... I don't know about... all this. Ollie. You. A harem. For me."

"For us. You're not the master of the harem, Peter. You're in it."

"At the center."

"Stipulated."

"Do you really think you could have stopped?"

Cindy paused.

"Because I tried. I actually tried. And I couldn't."

Cindy looked at Peter. "Wait. Really?"

"Really."

"I..." she blinked. "I mean, I know I could have stopped right that moment. I know it--"

"Yeah. Cindy? You knew you weren't actually about to conceive. You're right. Our 'urge' is clearly a mating urge. A breeding urge. What do you think would happen if you were unprotected and I thrust into you and you felt my condom break? What would happen to you?"

Cindy's eyes had widened. She was looking down the hundreds upon hundreds of feet to the street. "...I just committed sexual ****," she murmured.

Peter looked at her, then looked down at the street as well. "Yeah. Especially if you could have stopped. Because I told you to stop and you didn't. And I swear I couldn't."

Cindy rubbed her forehead. "...Peter... I didn't mean to... I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"I know." He chuckled, without mirth. "And I'm sorry I came in Gwen two nights ago, without thinking about the consequences. I'm sorry I didn't think about disease until you brought it up."

"...oh God I feel sick."

"Hey." He reached over, offering her a hand.

She took it.

"I accept your apology. I forgive you. I know you didn't mean to. And you're learning. And I'm learning. And we're going to make a lot of mistakes as we figure this 'harem' out."

"Why am I so bad at sex? At relationships?"

"Because you were locked in a bunker for a decade after having -- what, at most one boyfriend and maybe not gone that far with him. And then the day we met you went from screaming at me to fucking me in the span of one sentence." He 'hehed.' "Breeding. We felt the mating impulse then, too."

"And I couldn't have stopped if you paid me. I should have remembered. We got lucky."

"Yeah." Peter sighed. "Finding boundaries is part of every relationship. And we're both new to this one and this type. Though... rule of thumb?"

"...if your partner says stop, stop?"

"Unless otherwise previously negotiated, yeah. Clearly we need a safeword."

"Clearly we do." Cindy looked at Peter. "Some guys -- and girls -- would be pissed at you for forgiving me. Or demanding you haul me down to the police station right now."

"And I get why. But... sometimes people fuck up because they don't know better. Sometimes they hurt each other without meaning to. And Cindy? You've had a few months, but in a lot of ways you're acclimating to society just as much as Gwen is. And the rules to sex and consent changed a lot in the past decade, because we've gotten smarter about them."

"That's not an excuse."

"No, it isn't. But still. I forgive you. And I'm sorry. I should have used a condom. I was reminded of that just yesterday. 'If you have time to take a woman's panties off, you have time to put a rubber on,' he said."

"Tony?"

"No. Long story."

"...and we're still... I'm still in..."

"You're still in. Okay?"

"Okay." She looked at him. "So... does that mean I shouldn't hiss 'breed me' in your ear when we're fucking?"

"No, you totally should, because holy shit it's hot when you do that. When did you learn that kind of dirty talk?"

"Do you... just not use the internet, Peter?"

"...people keep asking me that..."

---

The binoculars were pretty sophisticated. Target locking. Auto-stabilize. Photos of multiple sorts.

Able to watch Spider-Man and Silk clinging to a radio tower from blocks away -- far enough that apparently even Silk's 'silk-sense' couldn't detect the voyeur.

With a click, a picture was snapped, and the binoculars were set down. Next to all this, all on the rooftop of another building, a smartphone was showing a livestream from a previously planted camera. On the screen? Mary Jane Watson. And someone who looked a lot like a girl who once got murdered at the George Washington Bridge.

The observer was sleekly muscled, lush and feminine in body, accentuated by the black leather that clung like paint. She was crouched in a full crouch, very, very flexible. Her suit was trimmed in white fur that matched the girl's platinum hair, her eyes bracketed by a black mask. In what felt like a city full of spiders, she was a cat.

A Black Cat.

"Oh, Spider," the Black Cat murmured. "Spider, Spider, Spider. What have you gotten yourself into this time?"