Hollup wait I just hit the jackpot

(Scenario 1)

The car had stood still for what felt like forever. None of the team had made progress, tank’s kept being shredded, dps had unsuccessfully gone into the backline multiple times, only to falter and ultimately just feed the enemy team’s KD ratio. The other healer, the person you were supposed to rely on, either ran away or outright refused to help. Whether be it pride or a lack of common sense, your team was failing you. Of course, it didn’t help that every second outside of spawn, made you dread… Her.

Black Cat, Felicia Hardy. What most people would simply write off as a simple thief that occasionally challenged most people’s understanding of moral ambiguity, had been the cause of the team’s problems.

The simple mention of her name would spark an argument, or a panic depending on how close she was. Your other healer had encountered (and lost) against her multiple time’s. Blaming you for not helping her, when you were occupied with the safety of your brain dead tanks.

Again, and again, and again. Endless cycle of reaching the objective in lower Manhattan, only to be thwarted by a simple feline theme burglar in latex. Trying to coordinate with your team only ended in empty words in an echo chamber of nothingness.

And so, another team-wipe, be it luck or on purpose, you were left standing. Fleeing into the abandoned buildings was the only safe bet, away from the opposition and the baboons you call your teammates.

But the truth is, when Felicia Hardy is out to play, nobodies ever far from her.

First it was a simple creak, could’ve been rats or just a rusty old pipe. Next it was the sound of giggling, followed by nails against the wall. Footsteps echoed seemingly from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. Before you could move, before you could take another inhale…

She already moved.

Thrown to the ground by her legs, attempting to move was useless, she already had her nail to your neck.

“Gotcha~”

Her grin is predatory, and she knows you’re terrified.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s bad luck to cross a black cat’s path?”

She leans back, her waist atop yours. Her finger trials down her zipper, pulling it down, she exhales. Sweat glistens off of her nearly exposed breast.

“Working all day and spawn camping that simpleton that you call your other healer just makes me so….”

She lowered herself onto you, exhaling in your ear.

“Hot… and hungry.”

She grin’s and pulls back, wrestling your arm’s she pins them above your head, tying them with her whip. The same whip she’d been using to rob your teammates. Now bonded, she waisted no time in flipping you over, her finger trailing down your spine sending shivers.

“So now little mouse~ I like you… and I just have to have you.”

She takes her finger and hooks the waistband of your pants.

“We can do this the easy way… or the fun way.”

“Your choice, but either way… this ass is mine.”

(Scenario 2)

Amits Gallivanting figures, expertly crafted gowns and tailored suits, a figure sauntered her way through. Dawned in a dual colored black and white dress with matching gloves that came up to her biceps. A silver almost tail like piece that wrapped around her hips, she left the mask at home, but kept some thievery tools.

Passing glares and suspicious murmurs didn’t affect her, she was used to not being trusted. A grin found its way on her face when onlookers held their purses and wallets tighter. Not like there’s anything these bums could have that would interest me. Felicia mentally remarked. The dance floor was filled with feet tapping against the floor, bodies moving and constantly adjusting placements.

First she had stood there unusually out of place for someone who did her best work while blending in. Everything however would tune out when she had laid her eyes on you. Felicia never really found herself blushing, but the heat rising to her cheeks was proof. She stammered, questioning why her heart was racing.

Before she even knew, her feet were moving on their own, and suddenly, her finger had found your shoulder.

“Care to dance?” She extended her hand knowingly, like sho wasn’t asking if you were going to dance, more like when are you going to take my hand to dance. Intertwining your fingers with hers, she took you into the center and gripped your hip.

“I like your hair. Your eyes, that smile and I love how red you are right now.” She said similar words to countless men and women, she spoke such sweet lies when she wanted something from them, but this time, she didn’t want anything. This time, she just wanted to see your face go red. Dancing slowly to the music playing on Krakoa, Felicia found herself unable to break eye contact with you, that was until she had spotted Emma Frost out of the corner of her eye. She dapped her lips with her tongue and sped up.

When she told you to drop her, she tilted back, extended her arm, the brief second her leg was raised, she swiftly brought her fingers to Emma’s pocket and nabbed her purse. Emma seemed to be to distracted by Scott who was holding her. After a second, Felicia returned dancing cheek to cheek with you.

“What?” She whispered excitedly, Emma’s purse now safely between Felicia’s arm and breast.

“She’ll be fine, do you know how much she spends on candles on a weekly basis?”

(Scenario 3.)

It all started with a note. First you noticed your wallet was missing, down on your luck, you chalked it up to a pickpocket while you were walking the streets of New York. When you returned to your apartment, you had found it on the counter with a picture of a woman’s breast, the polaroid had a message written on it.

To my future husband… you really should clean up, if your going to be a house husband, you need to make sure the house is spotless.

Creepy. Disturbed, you decided the best choice was the police. The police seemed to not to care this was brought to light, confused, you entered back in you apartment to sulk, only to find another photo, with more writing. This time, it was of the woman’s mid section, emphasizing the curve of her waist and hips.

”Nice try hubby, but the police are in my pocket’s, good on you for cleaning our love nest however, it looks spotless.”

The silver lining, was that bills and rent were disappearing, every day another envelope of payments and debt disappeared, and left in its place? Another photo.

There was one of her lip’s, with the what must’ve been the lipstick stain on the back. The words were curved with hearts at the top of the I’s.

“Your lips taste so sweet, even if you aren’t kissing me back, though sometimes you do… it’s amazing how the human body can react even while asleep.”

Gifts and other items piled up like dust soon, every time you cleaned the house like she asked, every time you obeyed either out of fear or curiosity, something new appeared.

Once there was a cookbook with a tiny note attached. Much like the other’s it featured a manifesto of domestication.

”I know you like eating out, so do I, but those days are over, as my future husband, you should be in the kitchen. Not to sound sexist, but I’ll be paying for your lifestyle, you should atleast pay me back with yummy treats.”

A few weeks go by, and finally— there’s one more photo, it’s not just your secret admirer or whoever, it’s you… dead asleep, vulnerable and susceptible. She’s curled up next to you, her face just out of frame.

”You make so many funny sound’s when you sleep… I wonder if your dreaming about me, if your not, I make sure you are, it’s not a coincidence you wake up sticky sheet’s every morning… oh P.S, I’ll be back tonight, if your still awake, don’t fight back, I’d prefer you to just lie still.”

Later that night. The window creeks open, and someone crosses through. Whoever she is, your secret admirer, she’s close.

“I know your awake~”

(Create your own scenario before I call packgod to humble your diddy ahh blud self.)