⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ KINKTOBER ⠀//⠀⠀day two
➤ PROMPT praise
➤ 951 words
➤ catwoman!yeji x fem!reader
➤ the many times you narrowly avoided robberies, and the one time you’re caught in the crossfire.
➤ A/N so while i was writing this, i had the actual catwoman in the batman universe in my brain, and i know nothing about that universe. research says catwoman is a jewel thief/antiheroine? so that’s how this prompt ended up like this. however, if you meant like… a cat & woman hybrid? i’m so sorry 💀
Working the closing shift for a jeweler is a risky job, but you have somehow managed to narrowly avoid the robberies that have taken place over the last six months. You either needed to tend to your family business or fell ill, leaving your coworkers to suffer the misfortune of being targeted by money-hungry thieves.
But your luck runs out.
And it runs out terribly.
At the very least, you’re not getting bombarded by a group of robbers. At the very worst, you’re caught in the middle of one robber’s scheme.
‘Catwoman’ is what they dub her. Synonymous for the cat mask, sharp claws, and smooth black bodysuit she dons, Catwoman is infamous for her string of high-profile robberies as well as her rescues of animals and children in dangerous situations. It’s hard what to make of a woman who steals from the elite, but has a heart for the vulnerable.
In this case, you are the vulnerable one, and she spares you no mercy.
Remnants of your white blouse drape over you, barely covering your tits as one swipe of her claws had shredded the garment open. Your pencil skirt is slightly torn up the side from how harshly she pried your legs open, and the infamous crook with gorgeous eyes is settled between them.
You were so close to clocking out, and now you’re in this predicament. You had contemplated screaming for security because her smooth entrance into the building didn’t trigger any alarms, but your naked pussy—slick with arousal—is betraying you. You almost don’t want to escape because this woman’s touch is magnetic.
.. Also because her sharp cat claws are gliding over your soft skin and one wrong move can reap dire consequences.
“You barely put up a fight,” she informs.
You scoff. “Because you have weapons.”
She raises a sharp brow. “Is that so?”
Your chest gets heavier as you watch her remove one of her cat claw gloves with her teeth. She spits it out to the side where it falls to the floor with a muffled clack. Removing half of her weaponry should put you at ease, but it does the exact opposite because you still don’t know her intentions. She can still hurt you with her bare hands.
You go rigid from her touch. Your hands are bound behind you with duct tape and your ankles are bound to each leg of the chair with even more duct tape, so you can’t retaliate anyway.
Not that you want to. It’s been too long since you’ve last been pleasured by someone, so Catwoman’s fingertips drawing over your slit might just be what you need. It’s insane to allow a criminal to be so intimate with you, but she knows exactly how to touch you.
“Catwoman-“
“Yeji,” she interrupts.
You tip your head back and heave a sigh as a finger slides into you. She withdraws it, then returns with two fingers, opening you up with how deep she pushes into you.
“Moan for Yeji.”
She goes slow and steady, but she delves deep. Her knuckles come in contact with your slick folds, her thrusts calculated for ample pleasure while testing the waters. You’re used to being drilled—practically jackhammered—hard and fast (which still gets you off eventually), so the sluggish pace is somehow still dizzying.
Perhaps it’s the adrenaline rush of being held hostage by an infamous thief. Perhaps it’s because you’re half naked and dripping all over the public enemy’s fingers. Whatever it is, it has your head spinning.
“Yeji,” you pant, your fists closing tightly as your limbs grow taut. “Yeji, please.”
One moment, you’re cornered by a masked woman with sharp claws threatening you. Suddenly, you find yourself stripped of bodily freedom and begging for said woman to fuck you harder. With the little mobility you have, you attempt to buck against her hand, rutting against her fingers with little shame and even less dignity.
She merely laughs at how pathetic you are. “You’re doing so well for me, kitten.”
That familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach arises. You twitch and squirm, but the duct tape digs more into your skin the more you move. You instinctively ball your hands together, as if you can actually break free if you jerk them hard enough.
“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.”
You throw your head back, your moans echoing through the spacious room as you come apart by the woman’s skillful fingers. She licks her lips as she watches the pleasure overcome you, the tremors that overtake your half-naked body. You don’t even think about the possibility of security bursting through and finding you in a compromising position. You can barely think at all as you spatter all over her fingers, the chair, and the floor.
“That’s my good girl,” she purrs, her wrist keeping up with the pace for you to ride out your high. “You did so well for me.”
Did you do well? Did you really do well?
Because if you did, you wouldn’t be sitting here with the most valuable jewels thrown in a bag for a thief to escape with. You wouldn’t have been jumped and thrown around the way you were, and you definitely would still have the freedom to move around and give her a piece of your mind.
But oh no, you did terribly.
Because if you actually did well, you wouldn’t be watching Yeji rise back up to her feet, turn her back to you, and rush out of the building with her loot.
You’re left bound to the chair, wondering how you’re supposed to explain to your manager why your assets are out in the open and a third of the jewels are missing.
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