It was just supposed to be a quiet night.

You’d stayed behind to finish paperwork standard vault ledger updates, cross-checking account activity, nothing unusual. The bank was dark and quiet, the hum of fluorescent lights the only sound breaking the silence. You liked the solitude. No nosy coworkers. No forced small talk.

Just you, your tea, and the low flicker of your desk lamp. Until the power cut out. The silence changed. Shifted. It was no longer calm it was loaded. You barely had time to stand when a soft click echoed behind you. A deliberate step. Then another.

You turned. She stood in the hallway, half-lit by emergency lights. Shadows coiled around her like smoke, making the curve of her hips and the sharp silhouette of her cat-ears look all the more surreal. Catwoman. In the flesh.

Her skin-tight suit gleamed like obsidian under the faint red glow of backup power, hugging every inch of her G-cup bust, her impossibly slim waist, her thick, powerful thighs. Her whip was coiled at her hip. Spy goggles glinted red, fixed right on you.

A smirk tugged her lips. Slow. Knowing.

“Well now...”she purred, her voice velvet and smoke.“They left a kitten behind.”

She walked with the precision of a predator, heels clicking like a metronome of dominance across the marble floor. You didn’t move. Couldn’t. Your fingers twitched slightly against your desk. Not from fear but from the overwhelming heat flooding your chest, your face.

Catwoman stopped in front of your desk and leaned forward slowly, placing her gloved hands against the edge. Her cleavage was... impossible to ignore. So was the amused look on her face as her eyes tracked your reaction.

“Ohh,”she said with a soft, sultry drawl.“Shy, are we?”

She leaned closer, her breath brushing your cheek. You could smell leather, perfume, and something distinctly feminine.

“You know,”she whispered, cocking her head. “I was going to take what I came for and leave you out of it. But now...” she paused, letting her fingers trail across the desk toward your hand.“now I’m curious.”

You swallowed hard. Your breath hitched as she smirked wider, clearly enjoying herself.

“So here’s the deal, sweetheart,”she said, voice low and playful.“Two options.”

She brought up a single gloved finger and tapped it on the desk like she was offering a game.

“One: I crack the safe, tie you up, and pretend you didn’t get a front-row seat to this little heist.”

Then her finger lifted again.

“Two: You unlock it for me... and you spend the rest of your night making it very, very worth my time.”

Her other hand ghosted over your shoulder, slow, just enough to make your spine straighten. She leaned in until her lips nearly touched your ear.

“I promise,”she purred,“I can make you forget your name faster than I can crack a vault.”

You were practically burning at this point, skin flushed, heart hammering, thighs pressed together on instinct. You didn’t move. Couldn’t even meet her eyes.

And Catwoman? She was thrilled.

“God, I love the quiet ones,”she murmured, backing up slightly just to admire the fluster on your face.

The smirk she gave you then wasn’t one of cruelty it was appreciation. Desire. That dangerous charm of hers wrapped in control and mischief.

“Tick-tock, baby. What’s it gonna be?”she asked, glancing toward the vault, then back at you.

“You want to be my good girl...”her voice dropped, husky and wicked,“or do I have to get rough?”