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cowboy like me | felicia hardy

synopsis: inspired by taylor swift’s 'cowboy like me', for the black cat, felicia hardy.

felicia hardy x reader

word count: 3.1k words

a/n: trying to branch out into new characters in the mcu, and black cat has always been one of my favourites. hope you guys enjoy x

and the tennis court was covered up, with some tent-like thing and you asked me to dance, but i said, "dancing is a dangerous game"

in the years you have orbited your life around taking from the rich, you knew that felicia hardy was never one to be trusted. she was a con artist, a professional thief, been in the game longer than you were. you could never take her words seriously.

now, the both of you sitting in the wedding of a millionaire you had robbed dry several times before,

overlooking the stunning views of the manhattan skyline and the contents of the fellow wedding guests’ wallets in your pockets, you were repeating the very same sentence you always told yourself whenever felicia tried distracting you. don’t let her even try.

“come on, let’s dance,” she whined for the umpteenth time. she had taken her prized jewels, you took your fancy watches. the one-off agreement of the pact you had made to work together just a month ago had been occurring more frequently lately, and it was sending you a bit on edge, to be honest.

“for what, felicia?”

she pouted, rolling over to absentmindedly trace her hands along your suit. you pulled her away. “it’s sunset, it’s the asshole’s wedding, it’s romantic.”

“yeah, but we are not lovers,” you quipped, sitting straighter to get a better look at the sunset she mentioned. new york really had the best sunsets. “and dancing is a dangerous game for us to play.”

“scared of catching feelings for me?”

you flicked your nimble fingers on her forehead, as felicia yelped. “never, black cat.”

oh, i thought, this is gonna be one of those things now, i know, i'm never gonna love again

you never should have taken her hand. you never should have accepted the dance with her. you should have known it was not going to end well.

yet, with felicia’s body flushed against yours, her lips dangerously travelling up and down your neck, hands roaming the lithe muscles on your body, you found it difficult to resist such advances from the woman.

when her lips met yours that night, you knew the watches you had kept in the slit of your own dress was taken, along with your heart, too.

that was years ago. now, you knew you were never going to love anyone like you loved her, ever again.

i’ve got some tricks up my sleeve, takes one to know one you're a cowboy like me

“feliciaaaa!” you screamed after her, chasing her through midtown as her laughter rang in your ears and the jewels and watches she had taken dancing in her priceless designer bag.

she had conned you once again. this time, she had tried out a new method; seduction.

yet, you found yourself still smiling as you caught up to her later, tying her down while you took off with her jewels this time. it was her turn to cuss you out for being able to spot when she was tired, and where her weaknesses were.

never wanted love, just a fancy car

the jewels rested beautifully on the curve of your collarbones as you slung your arm around the new billionaire you had conned to take you home for the night. he was grinning stupidly, you were grinning in victory, as he took you in to his ferrari, carefully revving the engine and driving so fast you thought your heart was going to stop.

you never needed anyone else. just the company of older, rich men, their riches, and yourself was enough. you could live forever like this.

now I'm waiting by the phone, like i'm sitting in an airport bar you had some tricks up your sleeve, takes one to know one

“just dinner at her place. dinner. nothing more,” you nervously repeated to yourself, pacing around felicia’s apartment block. flowers in hand, waiting for her call, you hated how she suddenly made you feel anxious about your actions, and how you were going to act around her.

“come up, will you?” you heard a voice from the balcony, and shot your head up in horror. “i’ve been watching you pace back and forth for the past ten minutes.”

felicia stood by the door as you came, in a short dress that definitely was not usually worn for a simple dinner at her place. the black accentuated her features, one of the rare few times you had caught her without her hair tied in a ponytail, clear goggles around her eyes.

“you look…pretty,” you breathed. she laughed, almost mockingly at you.

“thanks,” she nodded towards the flowers, “those for me?”

“of course.”

you handed them over, and as felicia took one whiff of them, she spotted something just within. hidden in plain sight of the stalks of roses.

the jewels you had stolen from her that one heist. returned to its “rightful” owner.

felicia’s heart tugged with warmth, as she looked back up at you, before pulling you in for a kiss on your cheek.

“thieves’ honour.”

“takes one to know one.”

you're a cowboy like me, perched in the dark, telling all the rich folks anything they wanna hear

the black cat’s finger outstretched, she was pointing at the man trying to strike up conversation with the owner of the art gallery. you recognised him as a private investor you had swindled once before.

“won’t work on him again,” you replied to her suggestion, turning your gaze to a woman standing by herself instead, overlooking the balcony. her hair was blonde like felicia’s, and she looked no older than you were by a few years. felicia also noticed that she was undeniably good-looking.

“no,” she said sharply, fingers directing your chin back to face her, “you’re not doing her.”

a hint of a smirk made it’s way up to your lips. “jealous, hardy?”

“and if i say i am?”

“then i’ll know you’re lying,” you held her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckle, before making your way over to the woman, “i don’t mean enough for you to get jealous.”

felicia bit her lip at your comment. that wasn’t true. silently, under her breath she whispered, “you are all that, and more.”

like it could be love, it could be the way forward only if they pay for it

“and to what i owe the pleasure of your company tonight?” the very same woman said into the dark, her chest still heaving with heavy breaths and the marks of your teeth left on them. the room smelled of sex and deceit, as you began picking up your clothes, her jewellery and the details to the vault of her private art collection already slipped inside.

you smirked, sneaking back a look at the naked woman staring at you with lust-hooded eyes. she really did look a little like felicia. didn’t feel like her, though. you rarely ever slept with the people you swindle now, not since you had started seeing felicia casually. you wondered if felicia had begun making a deeper impact in your life than you thought she would.

“...and what would be the price for more…company?” the woman had gotten up then, huskily whispering in your ear, her arms encircling your waist to try to bring you back to bed.

but you had already gotten more than you needed. you were no longer interested in her anymore.

“i’ll text you my bank details if you want more of this…anytime…anywhere.”

you called felicia later on that night, and you swore you enjoyed yourself more in the few hours the both of you spent plotting on the art vault’s robbery, than the whole night in the company of another woman.

you're a bandit like me eyes full of stars, hustling for the good life never thought i'd meet you here

felicia had fallen asleep in your dining room, one knee lifted up on your dining chair to support the weight of her head and arms as it lolled forward, her soft snores filling the silence of the room. blueprints of the vault were carefully laid across your large dining table, the both of you had spent the better part of the week plotting and scrawling across plans on stealing the works inside.

you were laid back in your own chair, taking a swig of the expensive wine she had bought to thank you for giving her the opportunity to join you in the heist, and swimming beyond the maroon that was sliding down your throat, you thought of her.

felicia hardy, the black cat. the daughter of the former black cat, who she told you taught her to never settle for second-best. who worked harder than anyone you knew to get what she wanted. who was slowly taking up a space in your heart that no one else ever had.

all that she had been through, the hardships she had endured that mirrored your own, she knew you like no other. she understood, and she never judged. she was just as hungry as you were for success. you just never thought that you could get along, much less fall for her, in your stupid, stupid quest to hustle for a better life for yourself.

she was trouble. but in that moment, she was nothing more than felicia hardy, not the black cat, not the thief she had proclaimed herself to be. felicia hardy was in your t-shirt that she had borrowed because she had volunteered to stay over, and hair tied up in a messy bun that framed the features of her face perfectly. she didn’t have her goggles on with her, didn’t have the skin-tight bodysuit to help her in heists and her criminal activities, and yet, she managed to look even more beautiful, if possible.

you sighed, knowing this was not going to end well. yet, when you looked back at her, a hint of a smile appeared on her face. a good dream, perhaps.

felicia looked cold. you stood up to fetch a blanket from your room, and draped it over her when you got back, tucking the ends under her chin so it wouldn’t slip off.

when your back was turned, her smile grew even wider in appreciation.

it could be love, we could be the way forward and i know i'll pay for it

“why didn’t you let me go?! why the fuck did you hold me back?!” felicia had practically screamed, shaking you as the rain beat down on the both of you, minutes right after you had tore her away from her chase of the guard running with the keys to the vault.

in return, you were even angrier that she was so stupid, so naive. “because he was running straight to the police! you wouldn’t have been able to escape all of them, all at once! and the cops there were under fisk’s payroll, you know this. you would’ve died, felicia!”

“and why do you care so much if i did?!”

her question left you stunned. at a loss for words and your mouth agape, felicia felt your arms release their grip on her own body, as you stepped back.

the rain beat down harder, if possible. somewhere, lightning had struck a nearby building that caused her to jump. but you were unphased.

you knew why, and so did she. only, the both of you were too afraid to admit the truth, because felicia knew she would have done the same if she were in your position.

and the skeletons in both our closets plotted hard to fuck this up

with the authorities now breathing down your necks due to the failed heist, felicia saw, and felt you slipping away like never before.

you had disappeared from existence so many times before, it was what made your operation so successful each time, but this time, you being gone left a gaping hole in her heart that she knew none could fix.

she was almost desperate enough to pick up the phone and beg you to come by her side. perhaps what spurred this desperation even further, was the next time that she saw you, it was at a socialite party and you were letting yet another desperate, creepy, old billionaire feeling you up and down and trying to bring you to bed with him. felicia almost had half a mind to tear his hand off, finger by finger.

you made eye contact with her, but this time, as felicia approached, you shook your head slowly, telling her not to come any closer. that was before you walked off, leaving her feeling more isolated than she felt possible, in a room full of people.

what felicia didn’t know, was that you had to walk off before you gave in to the compulsion of coming back to her arms and crying about how much you had missed her.

and the old men that i've swindled really did believe i was the one

pockets full of rolexes, the trunk of your car filled with art pieces, the drawers in your wardrobe overfilling with stolen jewellery. even the zeroes being constantly added to your bank account was no longer giving you the dopamine high that the black cat could give you.

your phone rang again. it was another one of your billionaire boys calling to ask when your next date would be; as if they still haven’t noticed you had picked them dry of any valuables they had during the date.

presently, you looked back at the figure of the man laying in the hotel bed, the remnants of his touch still leaving an unpleasant sear on your skin. the lovesick look on his face as he snored was enough for you to gather your clothes and check out of the room as quickly as possible.

for someone who was so powerful, the people you swindled were all so naive, you thought. little did you know, you were exactly just like them, when it came to felicia.

and the ladies lunching have their stories about when you passed through town

don’t let her even try. don’t let her even try. don’t let her even try. you listened half-heartedly to the gossip of the wives of the group’s board members about the infamous black cat that had swindled their husbands of belongings before, not caring if you appeared disinterested. you already had what you came for.

“i heard she’s a dangerous one, that girl.” sure is.

“probably has to be quite gorgeous, right? to get to so many men.” she’s more beautiful than anyone you could ever imagine.

“still, doesn’t make sense why she would suddenly stop. i heard no one’s been robbed in almost two months.” oh. that one was new.

perhaps felicia had the same idea of leaving town and finding new ground to avoid you, as you had to avoid her.

but that was all before I locked it down

“you’re really leaving?” you perched beside felicia one night, as she was scoping a new apartment to break into.

she ignored how good it felt to hear your voice again, reaching out a hand to prevent you from perhaps getting the jump to the apartment before her. it was really to stop you from leaving again.

“who told you that?”

“the ladies at tennis.”

“mm,” felicia smacked her lips, “so you keep up.”

you sighed, relaxing your stance and sitting down beside her instead. you removed your mask to look at her directly. she tried hard to avoid eye contact, in fear of what she would do if she was mesmerised by the sincerity in your eyes again. “i’ll go. you can stay here. new york is your home.”

“not anymore,” she said bitterly, but realising her tone and the vulnerability she was exposing, she playfully elbowed you, “not without you around.”

“felicia.”

she let down her guard, and frowned. at the solemn look on your face, felicia let her eyes drift away from the apartment for a bit, biting her lip nervously as she made the election to sit next to you. knees touching, hand still on your wrist.

“we never would’ve worked, would we?”

“not with our lifestyles, we won’t.”

“but i’m not giving this up. not now, not ever.”

“me too.”

“so what do we do now?”

you both looked at each other, and it was the moment you knew.

now you hang from my lips like the gardens of babylon

the feather-lightness of her kisses. her spare goggles and suit that had been next to yours in the short few weeks that she had spent in your home. the blanket you had draped around her shoulder the night she fell asleep on the dining chair.

they now seemed impossible to admit that they were real. and so was your failed, almost-relationship with the black cat. nothing was real, the pact, the feelings, the love and concern you had for her. it amounted to nothing, because it stemmed from nothing. you and felicia had agreed upon that when you took her hand to dance in that wedding.

you had known nothing about felicia, and she had known nothing about you either. she was your black cat, your partner in crime for a few break-ins and heists and robberies and everything in between. that was all.

yet, the tears rolling down your cheeks that slowly dripped onto the oak floor of your apartment, the floor that you had danced with felicia on so many times before, were all too real to dismiss everything that the two of you had.

nothing mattered, but everything did, all at once.

with your boots beneath my bed forever is the sweetest con

you never returned the spare suit and goggles she had left behind. she never asked for them back either. you were sure she still had your own spare suit and mask at her place.

perhaps it was the reminder of both of your presence in each other’s lives. a reality to keep you grounded, now that you were gone in another part of the planet, and felicia had nothing to live for, in new york.

i've had some tricks up my sleeve takes one to know one, you're a cowboy like me

one day in spring, exactly five years after the wedding, you received a package in the mail.

it had cat fur belonging to a suit you still kept somewhere in the depths of your closet. she had found you. you tore open the package.

and inside, were the very same flowers you had gifted felicia at your first dinner at her place, dried and pressed and beautifully preserved. you had no idea she treasured them so much to do such a thing.

and hidden even deeper into the package, were the jewels you had given back to her. returned to its rightful owner with a note this time.

takes one to know one. but i’m past that life now. if you are ready to try again, i am always going to be in new york waiting for your return.

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