(Art by Toonati)

On the rooftop of a glitzy high-rise, city lights glimmer below as the cool night breeze flows. Emma Frost, in her iconic white attire, sits elegantly on your shoulders, legs draped around your neck. You’re holding her cocktail with steady hands, while she playfully, yet deliberately, applies subtle pressure with her thighs.

Emma, smirking, voice like silk. “Now, now. Don’t you drop me or the drink. The outcome wouldn’t be pretty.”

She leans in just slightly, tightening her grip with a mischievous gleam in her eyes.