New York

Heiress of Cat Eye Investigations and the mega-billion dollar fortune of the archeological mogul Walter Hardy who by the media was deemed, "New York's very own Indiana Jones", Felicia Hardy sliced her caramelized salmon and primly brought the seafood to her lips, curling her tongue around the gleaming cutlery deliberately, olive green eyes nearly glowing in the dimness of the warm light as she chewed, swallowed and sipped on the provided champagne. The bubbles tingled her buds, sensitizing her for the nightly events soon to unfold. "Mmm, darling, what is it we're celebrating?" Her arm reached forward to stroke the masculine hand of one Richard Fisk resting upon the clothed table top separating them; her groomed foot slipped from its five inch stiletto to rub itself up and down the pant leg of her business partner, of whom she was smitten with at the prospect of such a delicious offer, and smoothly transitioned said foot to stimulate the mass between his thighs with small, circular caressed by the ball of her pretty foot. She tilted her jaw up and pierced him with her sultry gaze, licking her painted lips flavored with greed and lust for money, power and glory as her inner kitty reared to slash him across his pretty face when he firmly gripped her foot in response to the teasing; her fist below the table unclenched, as did the tendons in her arms relax below her sun-beige skin.

"Felicia, can't say I'm not disappointed you forgot," He brushed up her ankle, savoring the buttery sensation of her flesh as he smiled, finished the flute of champagne on his end of the table and unclutched her limb to reach for something. Richard stood, smoothed his black tie that complimented his gray three-piece suit, paced to her side of the romantic table centered in the Italian restaurant where the blonde grasped the arms of her chair and jerked her to face him, earning a squeak of enjoyment from his feminine company. To her alarm, he knelt, though the position of her shapely figure emphasized by the animal print of her velvet spaghetti strap dress fibbed her true feelings on the prospect of proposal.

He took her hand, kissed the back of it and continued to clasp it as he spoke sincerely, "Six months today we've been together. Meeting you, falling in love with you has been the best experience of my life and there's nothing more I want in my life than to be with you – forever. I love you, Felicia Hardy, so damn much. Will you marry me?"

She found herself unable look away from him, from the genuine emotion he worshipped her for – that worried her number one. Number two were all the eyes and voices on the pair, oohing and awing that bothered the hell out of her, knowing damn well someone one way or another way going to leak this to the press. Felicia glinted up beyond his styled hair, smelling the expense of the Gucci for Him radiating from his neck, wrists and nape, debating with herself, weighing the pros and cons as she crossed one arm over the other to grasp her flute of which she tossed back to render weak the caviar from earlier off her tongue. Still holding the glass by the stem, she was attracted to the turquoise ring box sitting in his palm, her green orbs reflected the constant glimmer of an art deco emerald cut diamond sided by trillion Brazilian emeralds rung in timeless yellow gold. Fourteen carrots at least. Cut, clarity, brilliance, shape, tone and hue – astounding! Nothing but the best from Tiffany's, of course.

"Green – like your gorgeous eyes…well?"

Become Mrs. Richard Fisk? Mrs. Felicia Fisk? Hardy-Fisk? More like Felicia Fist which turns into Felicia likes to be fisted – which I do, no qualms there but that's beside the point. Marrying into the Fisk's has its merits – the wealth and the reputation, but becoming guilty by association for taking his name? Absolutely not. As long as I'm the Cat, Felicia cannot have so much a parking ticket on her record. But…I can always leave him before the aisle, feign cold feet and hell if need be, cheat on him. No problems here – just a girl on a ride to get to her destination. "Oh Richard!" Hand to her mouth theatrically and brimming tears to her eyes on command, she swooned at the ring he slid onto her finger once she chanted her acceptance for all to rejoice, scratching bad press off her list, and cradled his face adoringly, feeling on top of the world for her good taste in old money, to bring him in for a heated kiss when someone screamed and an explosive shattering of glass, wood, metal and the telltale crunches of bone.

To his credit, Richard snagged Felicia by the arm to cram her behind the lean meat of his form, protecting her from the sudden invasion and cacophony of violence taking place between –

Felicia placed her hands on his broad shoulders, instantly feeling him calm beneath his touch as she groomed him to do so, and was surprised but not necessarily stunned to see Spider-Man holding his side as he stood, waved awkwardly as he yelled for people to evacuate the fifty-level building but was interrupted mid-sentence to evade the ear-piercing pops of bullets soaring for him. Felicia instinctually went into Cat Mode but discreetly by kicking the back of her fiancé's knee to stumble him, shouting at a random waitress already in panic mode who started crying as she apologized for absolutely nothing, Felicia convincingly fake fell to the floor while many other diners donned in their Sundays best also hit the floor in fear of getting hit by a stray ballistic if they were to flee.

"Stay close to me!" Richard grappled her arm again as his hazel eyes never left the danger, unknowingly annoying the shit out of her with his possessive attributes she'd have to taper out of him in time to ultimately gain what she sought, and watched the chaos ensuing as she sat on her hip, legs folded poshly in the midst of danger in a New York minute.

She observed on, naturally like everyone else as the Punisher burst through the higher windows lining the walls from a wide angle, Felicia figured he used a steel cabled grapnel to lower himself from the roof, allowing him to build momentum from a curved drop to spear himself through his targeted level. That how she would've pegged him to accomplish it, having read up on the vigilante's history, records and mercenary work-style beyond red tape.

"Is that the fucking Punisher?!"

"Oh? That's who that is?" The platinum blonde asked blandly as she admired the massive ring of her faux engagement, proud of all those hours she sat behind the curtain as a theater understudy making out with the theater professor meant to direct Columbia U's latest play.

"We have to get out of here!" Richard dialed toward her.

In that moment he took his eyes off the scuffle of guns blast apart crystal, martial arts damaging dueling flesh, bones and furnishings breaking, knives slicing in whistling arcs as strength cut into evasions, cussing loitering the attendants forced to witness the event as webbing strewn the dining room of the Fisk's prized Italian establishment that Richard was ripped from her arms that wound his shoulders by a figure sporting tactical gear, smeared with webbing and blood. "On your feet. NOW!"

Felicia reached for her struggling fiancé, "RICHARD!" Then, sounding as shallow as humanly possible, she screeched at the fugitive, "He's my fiancé! Yo-you can't take him! Please don't hurt him! We're supposed to get married!" Her pleas caught his attention; those unfeeling, empty eyes blazed hate and adrenaline centered but not meant for her sad hot girl form while her wide innocent sight managed to catch him off guard, hesitate for a heartbeat until he lugged Richard tighter in the incredibly one-armed headlock he held her precious fiancé in, hardly disappointing her motives. She listened, seemingly afraid and worried, begging him to not hurt him as Richard was dragged out of sight belligerent to free himself but she saw the fear of death flash across his face as his strength against the Punisher faded. In her peripheral, she saw movement of red and blue, damned him internally and took action to deflate Spider-Man from saving the day.

A teary eyed Felicia inched forward, unafraid in her task to help her supposed mate as she grabbed cutlery at random, her hands smeared with food and spit as she peeked beyond the romance of a circular booth of which a couple were hidden within, sharing comforting words she couldn't and didn't care to distinguish until she threw the utensils at Punisher, so silly in her manner but courageous in action. "NO! I won't let you hurt or take him! I love him! Why are you doing this to us?! He's done NOTHING wrong!"

Sporting his signature skull spray painted on a bulletproof vest she bet was a job on a budget, the black clad figure sent her a flat, unimpressed scowl as he stood at the window ledge Spider-Man crashed through earlier, waving about a pistol since his rifle was strapped to his back and Richard was somehow attached to the grapnel harness wired to the Punisher. "Ma'am, step the fuck back before I blow your brains out, please."

"But –"

"Hard nope, lady. Back the fuck up!"

"IT'S NOT FAIR!" She threw a spoon at him, wiggling angrily in her Chanel heels with balled fists.

"LIFE ISNT FAIR, LADY!" The moment the pop sounded and resounded to echo throughout the room while it aligned on her cringing, panicked form, her feet were swept from under her as red and blue entered her field of vision – something hard body on body contact collided with her.

Shattering glass sobbed in glimmering facets around her, shining the light of nightfall and surrounding skyscrapers within the financial district. Wind whistled in her diamond clad ears, blowing pale curls in random directions away from her scalp as she soared downwind. Arms reaching for her waist as someone from below saw a woman fell to Earth screamed and then as the sidewalk became larger and closer, it was over in an instant when the strength of a spider encircled her and swung them in another direction.

She clutched her arms around his neck and below his arm where they linked at his back, her face no longer a picture of fear but of joy as her hair wiped and slapped around mercilessly; Felicia laughed, almost manically, as she absorbed and fed on the cheap thrill, her thighs were tight as they fit snug around the web-slinger's hips as they gyrated on their own necessity to defy gravity while they built momentum against gravity, the heiress realizing her dress must've been torn for her to have the flexible freedom to latch onto him without fabricated resistance. She frowned, sorrowed by the loss of a new dress. She immediately smelled jasmine and roses from the garden terrace he landed upon; Felicia unfused their bodies in a tediously slow manner, careful to not lose her balance from the jolt of adrenaline, and crossed her arms below her ample bosom of which she damn well knew pronounced their endowed nature. "What the hell was THAT? Literally just wanted a nice evening with a steady boyfriend, fiancé now, and here you are with some vigilante asshole fucking up my life!"

"I'm sorry, Felicia. I'll do everything I can to get him back, he'll be ok –"

"Are you kidding me?" She paced anxiously. "He's a Fisk. We both know what the motherfucking Punisher does to Fisks!" In an instant he was there, taking her hands in his onesie coated ones, much to her chagrin.

"Look at me, Cat," He continued only when she met those contrived white arachnid lenses. "I'll get him back." He awkwardly watched her trot about in distraught as she sat down on some iron lawn furniture only to stand up or fist her fingers through the tousled curls. "Cat?"

"Wha-what did he want with him anyway? Wilson's been in Ryker's for years, Vanessa got clean, raised Richard right. What is he going to do with Richard, Spider?"

"I don't know, but I'm gonna find out," He embraced her in a hug, clearly upset to see her so neurotic with anxiety and fear. Spider-Man did something he hadn't done in a hell of a long time; he cradled the heart of her face, standing oh so deliciously close as he tenderly vowed, "He'll be ok, I promise."

Her lashes fluttered, lids heavy with awakening lust stirring the dark cat within as she felt his warmth press closer to her; his hand coiled the hourglass of her waist until it rode the curve of her back, his preferred spot on her lithe silhouette at the top of her luscious ass as his opposing hand traveled from her cheek to her collar, spilt over the swell of her breasts that blossomed further with each feverish breath of their shared space, before his journey ended on her chin as he tilted it upward and pressed his mouth against hers. She kissed him back promptly, throwing her arms around his neck as she sucked the air from his lungs and tried her damnest to swirl her tongue in his yummy mouth if not for the fucking mask – which was her Hail Mary at the end of the day. Felicia reared back and clocked him hard across the jaw with full force of the Black Cat, hoping he'd be black and blue for taking advantage of her faux misery.

She roared, resembling a lioness with her hair in disarray, cheeks flushed from desire and lips swollen from his vehement action as she jabbed a commanding finger at him, roaring, "What is wrong with you?! I'm engaged, you're married to MJ and we agreed to stop fooling around a year ago! While I've fooled around with plenty of married people, I actually respect you enough not to do so, but enough is enough, Peter Parker! Now go find my fiancé before Black Cat makes a house call to Queens!"

"Felicia I'm –"

"SORRY? No, you don't get to be 'sorry'. Not after all the emotional bullshit you dragged me through the mud over the years. NO. I have a chance to be happy and here you go and fuck it up for what? So you can have MJ and I? You can't have your cake and eat it too, you selfish prick! You know what? No – I'll go find him myself!" There in the summer evening, she unzipped the velvet cocktail dress and didn't bother to fetch the material as it pooled at her feet, revealing her naked form glowing lustrously in the hue of orange, purple and pink clouds overhanding a setting sun. Felicia moved through her penthouse, greeted by the dozen cats meowing at her entrance of which scattered and fled upon noticing the strange hooman flooding in after their mistress. She swiped away his advances to comfort, touch and ultimately seduce her as she picked through her walk-in-closet, knowing she'd eventually give in and finally back-handed New York's favorite hero with her fist, mindful not to use her ring hand. "Leave. Now."

"Felicia –"

She hissed, "GO!" The heiress studied his sullen stature on the terrace as she graced her form with a kimono, so silken against her glassy skin, her arms were knit defensively across herself as she sat on the arm of a sofa. Felicia sighed, expelling the stress of the situation from her being and thought a milk bath and a glass, or a bottle, of rosé was in order after that clusterfuck. She had touched the knot holding the kimono in place when she noticed a subtle shadow from the corner of her eye; before she could move to take action of fight or flight, she had something cold, heavy and metallic jammed into the back of her skull. Fuck.

"Don't scream. Don't move."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is another solo RP I'm still completing on my Discord sever thus is in my same FF universe as "Paracosm - When Jessica Met Clint". As always, Face Claims will be below - as for Peter P/Spider-Man's FC I saw some amazing face morphs of Maguire/Garfield/Holland together & it made a damn perfect Comic-Accurate Peter so if you're curious of what he looks like, feel free to look up"Maguire, Garfield and Holland face morph". Thanks for reading and nope, still don't own anything Marvel.


Nicola Peltz - Felicia Hardy; Black Cat


Alex Pettyfer - Richard Fisk; The Rose

Jon Berthal - Frank Castle; The Punisher