MARVEL HEADSWAP - WINNER (Patreon)

The blue beam left a smell of ozone in its wake. As his vision cleared, Miles Morales blinked from within Black Cat’s agile, dark-leather-clad body. Beside him, the athletic, teenage body that used to be his was thrashing about, gesturing with incredibly strong hands.

“This is unacceptable!” Black Cat slammed Miles’s fist against the wall, causing the plaster to crack. “I’ve got the body of a fifteen-year-old kid while you…” she pointed with disdain, “…you’re right there, in my body, wearing my suit!”

Miles, unperturbed, found a chair and sat down carefully, his legs spread wide—legs that weren’t his own. He adjusted his long gloves, testing his fingers.

“We need to call Peter,” he said calmly. “He’s dealt with Octavius before.”

Black Cat turned, glaring at Miles with burning fury. “Don’t make those jokes. Peter is dead. And even if he were alive...” her voice cracked for just a second, “he wouldn’t let me see him like this. With your silly boy’s head on my body—your head and hair don’t match my beautiful body...” she touched the flat chest of Miles’s body, dismayed, “...There’s nothing!”

Miles shrugged, making the leather creak. “We’re stuck, so… let’s sit down and think.”

“Don’t you dare sit down and do nothing!” she exclaimed, pacing furiously, walking awkwardly on those skinny legs. “We have to move, we have to find that sick bald guy!”

Miles sighed, looking down at the cleavage that wasn’t hers, at the tight boots. “It’s just so tiring walking around in this super-tight outfit and these heels…” She rubbed the arch of her foot with difficulty. “They’re killing my legs, Felicia.”

Black Cat looked at him, a mix of disbelief and envy at the mere sight of the new owner of her body.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered, clenching her fists. “You’re sitting in the most coveted body in New York, and you’re complaining about the shoes!”

“And the breasts,” Miles added, touching his new bust. “They bounce and they’re heavy,” he added.

“Shut up!” she shouted, though a hysterical laugh bubbled in her throat. “Just… shut up and get up. We’ll find Octavius. And when this is over...—she touched her flat chest again, dejected—“I swear I’ll make you work on my body, and you’re not going to like it, so either we reverse it or you get used to it—you choose!”