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roosterforme · 2 years ago

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The Younger Kind Part 40 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Casey is obnoxious to you once again, you try your best to go about your day even though you're on the verge of tears. Bradley knew he shouldn't have been lying to you, but he didn't see any other way of dealing with things. Especially not when he was making some last minute changes.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, mentions of smut and age gap (18+)

Length: 5000 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Bradley didn't answer his phone when you called him on your way to work. Casey was trying to bait you, of that you were almost positive. But Bradley was acting strange all on his own, and the twin bakery boxes made you a little more anxious than you wanted to admit, even to yourself.

This was going to be the downside to being with Bradley. He was older and sexy and had a real job and a cute kid, and other people were always going to take notice of that. But he put you in his will. He'd talked about rings, and you'd seen them in his internet tabs. There was no way he wasn't serious about this, because even if he was messing with you, he wouldn't mess with Noah.

But you still felt jealous and petty as you drove to work. That crown shaped donut was adorable and delicious, but at what cost? Now you wished you had taken the time to see what was inside the pastry box Casey had at the daycare. You called Bradley one more time as you walked into work, but of course he didn't answer even though he should still have his phone on him at this hour. The urge to text or call Natasha was strong right now.

After you took care of a few of your patients, you caved and dug your phone out of your bag. Bradley finally responded to you.

Bradley Bradshaw: Hey, I know you said you're going grocery shopping on your way home today, but I need you to pick up Noah. I'll be late again.

You rolled your eyes as you texted him back.

Why exactly will you be late today?

You didn't have time to wait for a response, because you had to get the exam rooms ready for the upcoming patients. Dr. Kelly was dealing with an emergency in exam room one, and there was another child throwing up all over the waiting room. At the rate you were going here, you'd be lucky if you could even get to Noah on time after work. You felt like you were being pulled in four different directions, and you weren't in the mood for Bradley's bullshit.

When nobody else wanted to clean up the waiting room, you went ahead and did it without complaining; it wasn't that kid's fault he had food poisoning. But you ended up crawling around on the floor for fifteen minutes with rubber gloves on, and then you just got more backed up with the child who was waiting for you in the last exam room. You didn't have time to eat lunch, but you took a quick bathroom break and checked your phone.

There was nothing from Bradley, but Natasha had texted asking what you were wearing to Admiral Bates' retirement party. You pressed your lips together and took a screenshot of the poofy purple skirt and top that should be arriving today and sent it to her. Before she could respond, you sent another quick message.

Are you working late with Bradley today? Did you have to work late with him yesterday?

You used the bathroom and washed your hands, and you checked your phone one last time.

Natasha Trace: I haven't been working late, and I followed him out of the parking garage yesterday. That shade of purple is going to look stunning next to Bradley's dress whites. I can't decide between my own dress whites or a formal gown. What's your opinion? Look like one of the guys or look like I'm trying too hard? Like I can't fucking win here, you know?

You absolutely loved that she wanted to ramble to you about her black tie options, you really did. But now you felt uncomfortable in your own skin. She just confirmed for you that Bradley left work on time yesterday. At the bare minimum he was lying to you again, but he could be doing something behind your back that would hurt you even more than that.

"Fuck," you muttered, knowing you had to get back to work. You smiled at your patients and let them take their time picking out stickers all afternoon. You cleaned and disinfected the exam rooms. You entered all of the information into the electronic charts while you answered questions for parents. You did it all without freaking out like you wanted to.

When you were dismissed, you grabbed your things and rushed to your car to make it to the daycare in time to get Noah. Tears already stung your eyes, because you just knew you'd feel so much better when you got to see him and get a hug. You were still trying to decide if it was better or worse if Casey was still here as you parked and headed inside. Then her eyes locked with yours as soon as you entered the small lobby, and she still looked so smug in her cute outfit. But at least this meant she wasn't with Bradley.

"Oh, it's you again," she said pleasantly as you walked to the counter.

You put your hand out for the clipboard and said, "Yep. It's me. Told you I wasn't going anywhere. Could you please bring Noah out?"

"I will," she replied, reaching into that fucking blue box and pulling out a crown shaped donut. She nibbled on the end before setting it down again and handing you the clipboard. "You're the last one to arrive for pickup, which actually makes sense when I think about it. Bradley has you running all over the place for him, doesn't he?"

You ground your molars together to keep your mouth shut and signed your name as she took another bite of the donut.

"I guess that's what babysitters do though. But it's funny that he didn't mention you at all when he and I were at the bakery yesterday."

Your eyes snapped up to meet her self satisfied gaze, and you wanted to rip that pretty donut out of her hand. "Just go get Noah."

"Gladly," she replied, heading for the classroom door. "You're holding me up right now anyway. I need to get back to Sweet Dreams to meet up with someone who looks damn good in a pair of aviator sunglasses. It's so nice having the best bakery in the city right in my neighborhood. It's a great spot to meet up with people."

If Bradley came home with another blue pastry box and claimed he was at work late again, you were going to throw the box back in his pretty face.

"Mommy!" Noah called as he streaked across the lobby to you a second later. "I painted a purple dog for you!" He was holding up a painting of a purple blob with eyes and a nose, and you couldn't hold back your smile.

"I love it," you whispered as you picked him up and kissed his chubby cheek. You made the decision to completely ignore Casey as you turned and walked out to the parking lot. "Hey, we need to stop and get groceries, so how about you pick what you want for dinner tonight."

He looked at you with those brown eyes that were identical to his dad's, except that these ones didn't have to try to look innocent, they just were. "Probably mac and cheese and ants on logs."

"Sounds perfect."

Once you and he got inside the grocery store, you were feeling extra ridiculous. You thought about making it a point to run up Bradley's credit card bill as high as you could by selecting imported exotic fruits and a bottle of champagne, but you just couldn't waste the money. You did buy yourself some expensive chocolate that you ate on the drive home though as you wondered just how late he was going to be tonight.

You were kind of shocked as you pulled down the block with Noah and a trunk full of groceries to see the Bronco parked in the driveway. It was 6:45, so he must have arrived just before you, and you couldn't wait to put him on the spot. You slammed your door before unbuckling Noah from his seat in the back, and you really did feel like the fucking babysitter again right now.

"Let's go, sweet Noah," you told him, leaving the groceries where they were for now. Hand in hand, the two of you walked up to the porch while he told you how many raisins he wanted on his carrots, but you barely heard him. When you opened the front door, Bradley was standing right there in the middle of the living room with a stupid smile on his face. He was holding another blue pastry box.

"Hi," he said, leaning down to kiss you, but you backed away. His face scrunched in concern. "Everything okay?"

Noah was already bugging to see what was in the box this time, and you noticed Bradley had his other hand tucked behind his broad back.

"I mean... no, not really," you said, slightly embarrassed by the way your voice shook. "Did you see Casey at the bakery again today? Just like last night?"

He looked completely taken aback. "How did you know I saw Casey last night?"

You crossed your arms over your chest and whispered, "Why do you keep lying to me about coming home late?"

Bradley sighed and pressed his lips together. "Look, I didn't want to have to lie to you, okay? That wasn't really my original plan, but then things got a little out of hand, and I didn't really see any other option."

"Just say it," you whispered, ready to reach for the box as your hands shook.

"I just wanted it to be a surprise," he said blandly as he pulled his hand out from behind his back. You gasped, and Noah immediately gave up on his mission to get something sweet out of the blue box.

"A dog!" Noah shouted as you looked at the tiny little Yorkshire terrier that Bradley was holding around the middle with one hand. It had a purple bow on top of its head and one leg in a cast, and it was honestly one of the cutest things you'd ever seen in your life. "A dog! A dog!"

Bradley dropped down to kneel so Noah could get a closer look, but he kept his eyes on you as he said, "I adopted her from the shelter across town. It's on the same block as that fancy bakery. She has a broken leg, so we need to be really gentle with her while she's healing, okay?" He set the box down on the floor and sat with Noah, and now you were feeling pretty embarrassed. You still wanted to know what Casey was doing, but you tentatively sat down on the floor as well.

When Bradley held his other arm out, you crawled in to give him a huge while Noah petted the little brown bundle of fur. He was showing how gently he could be, and the dog started licking his hands. You kissed Bradley's cheek, but he looked a little stern as he softly said, "You know I did this for you, right? You and Noah."

You didn't know what else to say, so you simply said, "Thank you."

He sighed and kissed your lips. "I saw Casey for like five minutes while I waited in line to buy your crown donut, okay? The guy from the shelter needed to interview me about getting a dog with an injury, so he and I sat in the bakery for a while and talked. I dropped off a check this afternoon, because they don't accept app payments, and I stopped at the bakery again for you. Then the guy from the shelter came by and did a quick inspection of the house and our backyard like an hour ago. And he left the dog with me. That's all."

You wrapped your arms around his neck and whispered, "I love you, and I love the dog. And I'm happy you got to use your checkbook without anyone laughing at you."

Bradley chuckled as you ran your fingers through the dog's fur. She looked up at you with brown eyes that you swore perfectly matched those of the Bradshaw boys.

"What's her name?" Noah asked as he got his face licked.

"Whatever you want it to be," Bradley replied. "She doesn't have one yet."

You and Noah made eye contact and both smiled brightly. "Skittles!"

Bradley groaned and laid back on the area rug right next to the snag, and he plopped Skittles down on his chest. "You already had a name picked out? And it's Skittles?"

"Yes!" Noah replied, also laying on Bradley's chest to get better access to his new pet.

"We picked a name that could work for a boy dog or a girl dog," you told Bradley, your heart feeling lighter than it had for the past day. "She's so adorable," you crooned as you ran your dand down her back. "Hi, Skittles. You're precious." Her brown eyes were transfixed on your face as you scratched just the right spot behind her ear. "Why is she in a cast?"

Bradley propped his hands behind his head, and the pup carefully walked up to lick his neck and face as you took a few pictures. "Hit by a car. She was abandoned down near Imperial Beach and someone dropped her at the shelter last week. I mentioned I was looking for a small puppy or younger dog that didn't shed, and Bob found her on the shelter website."

"You were left all alone? You sweet thing," you whispered, getting close enough for a lick across your nose. "She's darling!"

"Can she sleep with me in my bed?" Noah asked as Skittles climbed carefully onto Bradley's bicep and then onto the rug. She sniffed around the pastry box before plopping down bedside Bradley with her broken leg sticking out in front of her.

"Maybe after her cast comes off, Bub."

Noah tried his best to pout, but you saw right through it, and a few seconds later he was smiling again. "Noah, what do you say to Daddy?" you reminded him. Then he was in Bradley's arms saying thank you a million times in a row.

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While Bradley unloaded the groceries, you and Noah played on the living room floor with Skittles. He shook his head as he locked your car. "Skittles," he muttered, hauling the last few bags inside. "You've got to be shitting me." He chuckled to himself. You'd come into his life with your candy and your glossy lips and your sweetness and upended everything. He owned a fucking dog now, and you'd named it after your favorite snack. He even had a reminder in his phone to pay off his credit card balance so he could start shopping for a ring next month.

You smiled up at him from the floor as Noah squeaked a toy and held it out to the dog. Damn it, she was actually adorable. And the shelter gave her a little purple bow when he asked for that color. And she definitely had the puppy eyes down pat, because Bradley couldn't even walk through the room without stopping to pet her.

He ended up carrying Skittles around the house for the rest of the night after you made mac and cheese for dinner. The dog was already trained to go to the bathroom outside, but he needed to be careful with her cast. The staff from the animal shelter had absolutely grilled him for information before they even came out to inspect whether or not the house and yard were safe for her.

"Yeah, this is your yard now," he whispered to the dog as he carried her outside in one hand. She licked his cheek before he set her down and watched her sniff around as it got darker outside. She was only a year or two old, which is what he wanted. This way Noah and potentially his younger sibling could have more time with her as the dog grew older.

"Come here," Bradley called, and Skittles moved as quickly as her little casted leg would allow her to. She stopped at his feet and looked up at him. "Fuck. You really are cute. And I'm going to look like an asshole when I take you for walks." But he was smiling as he picked her up again. When he turned, you were standing in the open doorway.

"You won't look like an asshole, Daddy. You'll look as adorable as Skittles does."

He kissed your forehead and asked, "Is Noah in bed?"

"Yeah. He wants you to go in and say goodnight. And may I please hold the dog for a few minutes?" you asked with a little pout.

"Nope," he replied, kissing your cheek. "Gotta let Noah say goodnight to her, too."

"Then can I play with her?"

Bradley held the dog's face up to his ear. "What's that, Skittles? You said you like me the best and want me to keep holding you? That's what I thought."

"Hey!" you complained, playfully hitting his arm as the pup licked his ear. You looked happier right now than you had earlier, but Bradley knew he needed to have a conversation about Casey. He couldn't understand what set you off so much earlier.

As he carried Skittles toward Noah's room, he replayed the events from yesterday in his mind. He'd been sitting in the bakery for about an hour before he finished talking to the representative from the animal shelter, and when he stood up, Casey was already there. And yeah, she was a nuisance as usual. She put her hand on Bradley's forearm and mentioned that she liked his uniform, but she always tried to do that shit. Then she waited in line like she was with him instead of behind or in front of him, and she went on and on about how she lived right around the corner.

When he finally managed to leave with the bakery box and your cute donut, he was exhausted. And he'd only had to listen to her for a few minutes. Then she stood next to the Bronco with him like she expected a ride home or something, which was ridiculous since she told him so many times that she lived around the corner.

He sighed and kissed Skittles on the head as he carried her in to say goodnight to Noah. "I love her," his son said as Bradley held her so she could lick his face. "I'll be really careful so she can sleep in here with me," he pleaded.

Bradley kissed his cheek. "Not tonight, Bub. I already told you, she needs to heal up first."

Noah reached out to pet her before rolling onto his side with a little scowl, but he was already asleep by the time Bradley left the room. And then he went into his bedroom which always smelled like wildflowers and found you on the bed wearing that sexy little purple nightie you bought online. For a brief second he wondered if you were wearing your plug, but then he remembered he needed to have a conversation with you.

You held your hands out to Skittles, but Bradley just shook his head and carried her to the little plush bed he set up in the corner and set her there. She walked in a delicate circle before plopping down and yawning. "How are you this cute?" he asked the animal before turning back to where you were sitting with your arms crossed.

"Why won't you let me hold Skittles?"

"Because we need to talk," he replied immediately. You flopped back against the pillows as Bradley climbed in bed with you. "Come here," he whispered, patting his chest, and sure enough, you crawled over and snuggled against him. "Tell me what's bothering you."

You draped your arm across his abs and said, "You won't let me hold Skittles!"

"That's not what I'm talking about," he murmured, kissing the top of your head. He didn't want to have to be the one to say it, so he stroked your bare arm and waited.

You sighed softly and said, "Casey always tries to bait me when I see her at daycare dropoff or pick up. I'm sorry I came in hot with you today. But you should hear what she says."

Bradley thought he'd made it clear that he wasn't interested in her after he returned from his last deployment. He made no secret of grabbing at you and kissing you in front of Casey. He knew it was probably because you and she were the same age, and Casey definitely saw the way he doted on you. "She's probably just jealous, because I like to spoil you."

You snorted. "She's jealous, because you're hot, Daddy."

Bradley could feel his cheeks flush with heat as you shifted slightly and looked up at him. "What did she say to you today?" he asked.

Your eyes fluttered closed in embarrassment, and you looked bashful as you whispered, "She made it seem like she met you at the bakery. Like it was something you and she planned ahead of time. And she had a blue bakery box and a princess crown donut, and she ate it in front of me. And now I'm starting to realize how ridiculous this sounds, because I trust you."

"I know you do, Princess," he replied as he looked at your purple crown on the bedpost. "And I trust you. But I just can't believe she did that." He studied your gorgeous face and ran his knuckles along your cheek. "I'm sorry I lied to you about staying at work late. That was shitty. I just wanted you and Noah both to be surprised since you've both been bugging for a dog. I just wanted to get you something special."

"Apology accepted. And dog accepted, too," you whispered as he stroked the soft skin of your neck.

"Listen. I'm not interested in Casey. I'm never going to be interested in Casey. I saw her for five or ten minutes at the bakery, and she asked why I was on that side of town. I told her the other guy was from the shelter and I was thinking about getting a dog. She waited with me in line and practically gave me a migraine from how much she talks. I didn't pay attention to what she bought, so if she had a princess crown donut, then she bought it herself."

You smiled up at him. "Those donuts are so good. Pissed me off that she had one and tried to rub it in my face. She must have heard what you ordered."

He smirked. "Yeah well, you're the one getting cream filled donuts and a cream filled pussy anytime you want."

"Daddy!" you gasped. "That's fucking naughty."

"Get up here," he whispered, and then you moved up his body until your lips met his. "I love you. You're Noah's mommy. You're my Princess. I want to be with you. Don't worry about Casey." But he knew he'd have to have another conversation tomorrow, which he was more than happy to do for you.

You pressed soft kisses to his mustache as he ran his hand up your thigh, curious if you were wearing panties. You were not. "You know what I really want, Daddy?"

"Tell me, and I'll give it to you."

You gently bit his bottom lip before releasing it and giggling. "I want to play with Skittles."

Bradley groaned as you scrambled off of his semi hard cock and climbed out of bed. He got a delicious view of your bare ass as you bent to pick the dog up and carry her back to bed. "You're the cutest little girl! Look at you in your purple bow! Oh, I just love you!"

Then he watched as you climbed back onto the bed with all the care in the world and had the pup cradled against you. When he chuckled and left the room, you didn't even seem to notice. He used the bathroom and went to the kitchen in search of the blue pastry box while he planned out what he'd say to Casey. He wasn't about to tolerate someone intentionally making you uncomfortable, especially when it came to him.

He grabbed a plate and the fresh princess crown donut, wondering if he could get the bakery to make one that looked like a wedding ring. Then he carried the plate back to the bedroom where Skittles was laying on her back while you tickled her tummy. Bradley just stood there and held the plate as he watched you play and listened to you laugh. You kissed the dog and said, "I'm going to buy you a purple collar and leash with Daddy's credit card. And when your cast comes off, Noah and I will take you for hikes around the block. And Daddy is so big, he's going to look so hot walking such a tiny dog. Either that, or he'll look like an asshole."

"I'm standing right here."

You smirked when you looked at him. "I know," you said, scratching Skittles on her belly as she squirmed around. "Is it okay if I order her a leash and some snacks?"

"Get whatever you want," he said, handing you the plate and kissing you before he stole the dog from your grasp.

"Hey!" you complained with a laugh.

"It's time for Skittles to go to bed. Eat your princess donut, and then I'll fill you with cream if you're in the mood for it."

You just looked at him coyly as you nibbled on the donut, and he put the pup in her little bed once again.

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The next morning, Bradley let you sleep in a little later than usual while he got Noah ready and packed you a sandwich for your lunch. He'd kept you up pretty late, fucking you slow and steady until he got a shaking orgasm out of you. Then he took his time as you babbled and kissed him sweetly, finally filling you up with his cum. He called you his little donut as you fell asleep.

"Fuck," he grunted as he thought about it, starting to get hard in his flight suit as he made your peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

"Morning," you sang as you strolled into the kitchen in your scrubs. You kissed his cheek and then pet Skittles where she sat looking up at the sandwich, hoping some would fall on the floor. Then you sat down next to Noah as he ate his cereal and told you that he loved Skittles even more than dinosaurs.

"More than dinosaurs?" you asked, brushing his hair back from his forehead as he dipped his spoon back into his bowl. "That's a whole lot."

"Yep," he agreed. "I love Skittles almost as much as I love you and Daddy."

Bradley watched you kiss his son on the cheek before you got your own bowl of cereal ready. "Should we thank Daddy again for bringing her home?"

"Thanks, Daddy," you and Noah sang out in unison.

Bradley just smiled and said, "You're welcome. Noah, finish eating so we're not late. Princess, can you put Skittles in her crate before you leave?"

"Yes," you told him between bites of breakfast. "And I'll order her leash and stuff later today."

He kissed you hard before bringing you coffee in the mug that said Noah's Daddy. Then he scooped Noah up and carried him off to get his shoes on. It was getting seriously late at this point, and he knew he'd be in the daycare for an extra minute or two this morning. "I love you, Baby," he called out, rushing back into the kitchen for a second when he was finally ready to leave.

You gave him and Noah one last kiss apiece, and then Noah hugged Skittles. "We gotta go," Bradley told him, rushing him out to the Bronco. It only took a few minutes to get to the daycare, and Bradley had a good idea what he wanted to say. He found himself hoping that Casey was at the front desk this morning, not wanting to draw this shit out any longer.

When he walked Noah inside, hand in hand, Bradley saw her right away. She looked up at him with parted lips and a little smile as he tugged his aviators off. Then she looked at his son and said, "Good morning, Noah!" Her eyes darted back up as she added in a softer voice, "And Bradley."

He watched her walk Noah into the classroom before he signed his name on the clipboard. When Casey walked back toward him, there was nobody else in the lobby. He held out the clipboard for her and said, "I'd actually prefer it if you called me Lieutenant Bradshaw."

She giggled as if she was being treated to something even better than use of his first name, and Bradley had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. "Okay, Lieutenant Bradshaw," she whispered, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

He cleared his throat. "Can we chat for a minute?"

Casey set the clipboard down and came to stand alarmingly close to him. This was every bit as bad as you had claimed, and frankly he was more than a little bit surprised by how bold she was. Bradley took a step away and shook his head. "Look Casey, this is never going to happen."

She froze on the spot, and her cheeks turned a soft shade of pink. "Oh."

"Right. And I really don't want to have to go to your boss, so I need you to just knock it off, okay? My girl and I don't keep secrets from each other, so I know about how you talk to her, and I don't appreciate it at all. She's as good as being Noah's mom and my wife."

Now her cheeks were a deeper shade of red, and she was rushing back around to the other side of the desk. "Okay," she whispered. "I'm just surprised she said something to you about it."

"Don't be. Like I said, we talk about everything. And if you pull some more shit, I'll hear about that, too. Promise."

He stood his ground until she looked up at him. All she said was, "Okay," and then Bradley put his aviators back on as he turned toward the door.

"You have a great day."

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Casey, you literal nightmare. She'd be delighted if she broke them up. Can't wait to see her next time Princess shows up. And Daddy shouldn't even try to be sneaky. Just no, Daddy. But welcome, Skittles! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 41

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spicyschemmenti · 4 months ago

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SOMEHOW, SHE'S IN CHARGE ➫ casey novak

pairing: casey novak x bumbling idiot!fem!reader

synopsis: casey is prepared for a lot of things in her career. grueling cases, tough defense attorneys, and long nights buried in paperwork. what she isn’t prepared for is discovering that the new district attorney is the same woman she just watched pour orange juice into her coffee

warnings: reader puts herself in awkward and embarassing situations, reader is clumsy and chaotic

word count: 1.2k

MASTERLIST

Casey’s day had been going fine. Court had gone smoothly, she only had one more case review before lunch, and she’d managed to avoid running into that adorably chaotic woman who seemed to exist in a constant state of mild distress.

Until now.

She stands in the break room, staring in absolute disbelief as you, the aforementioned human disaster, stir orange juice into your coffee like it’s completely normal. You’re not even paying attention, humming to yourself, wearing an oversized blazer that looks two seconds away from slipping off your shoulder, your hair slightly messy like you forgot to brush it in your rush to work. The lid to the orange juice carton is on the floor, and Casey is pretty sure you didn’t even realize you dropped it.

"You, uh… you meant to do that?" she asks, tilting her head.

You blink like you just remembered she was there. "Huh?"

Casey gestures vaguely to the abomination in your hands. "The coffee. The orange juice. You just—" She waves her hand, unable to even finish the sentence.

"Oh! Yeah." You take a sip, and your face immediately contorts in regret. "Oh, wow, that is so bad."

"Yeah," Casey deadpans. "Shocking."

You make a small, suffering noise and set the mug down, like you don’t even trust yourself to hold it anymore. Then, as if the universe needs to hammer home just how much of a mess you are, you spin to throw something in the trash and promptly knock over an entire stack of case files that were sitting on the counter.

Papers scatter across the floor. You freeze. Casey closes her eyes for a brief moment, inhaling like she’s gathering strength.

"Cool," you mutter to yourself, hands on your hips as you stare at the chaos you’ve just created. "Super cool."

Casey sighs and kneels down, helping you gather the papers. "You always like this?" she asks, handing you a file.

"Oh, yeah. Whole life," you say with an exasperated smile. "I mean, it’s mostly fine! Just little things. Like, this morning I tripped getting out of bed, and my coffee maker kind of exploded, and then I dropped my phone in a puddle, but—" you hold up a finger, like you’re about to make an excellent point—"I got here on time! Which is more than I can say for yesterday."

Casey just stares at you. Who lets you operate heavy machinery?

She’s already mentally filing you away as someone she’s going to have to keep an eye on—not in a bad way, just, you know, to make sure you don’t accidentally set the office on fire—when a voice interrupts.

"Ms. Novak?"

She turns to see one of the junior attorneys standing in the doorway. "Are you ready for your meeting with the DA?"

"Yeah, just—" she stands, brushing dust off her skirt. "Where are they?"

The attorney gestures toward you. You.

Casey looks at you. You give her a sheepish little wave, still clutching a file upside down.

"You're the DA?" Casey blurts out before she can stop herself.

"Uhh… yeah?" You say it like even you can’t believe it. "Newly appointed! Just started last week. You know, whole ‘shiny new District Attorney’ thing. Trying my best. Not setting things on fire, so, y’know… that’s a win."

Casey squints at you. You are holding a coffee cup full of orange juice. There is a very real possibility that you misplaced your own office keys at some point today. This person is running the DA’s office.

"Uh-huh," Casey mutters, rubbing her temples. "Right. Okay. Cool."

"Anyway!" you say brightly, rocking on your heels. "We should totally get to that meeting before they send a search party."

And then you walk directly into the doorframe.

Casey groans. "I need a stronger coffee."

Casey follows you to the meeting room in a state of mild shock, clutching her coffee like it’s the only thing tethering her to reality. You, this complete and utter disaster of a human, are the District Attorney. The head of the office. The person she technically answers to.

She sneaks a glance at you as you walk, still a little dazed from the revelation. Your oversized blazer keeps slipping off your shoulder, and you keep pushing it up only for it to slide right back down. You’re flipping through a file as you walk, mumbling something under your breath, completely oblivious to the way the hallway full of other attorneys keeps subtly moving out of your way, as if they’ve all learned to give you a wide berth for their own safety.

Casey is starting to suspect that you might be a legal genius trapped in the body of a chaotic mess. That’s the only explanation, right? Otherwise, there’s no way you’d have this job.

You finally reach the conference room and push the door open, except it doesn’t move because you’re pulling instead of pushing. You blink at it for a second, clearly confused, before switching tactics and shoving it open with an awkward laugh. Casey, standing right behind you, just closes her eyes and exhales slowly.

Inside, the room is already full of attorneys and detectives, papers spread out across the table. Olivia Benson and Elliot Stabler sit on one side, their expressions unreadable, while some of the ADAs murmur amongst themselves. Casey takes a seat, watching as you drop your files onto the table with an unceremonious thump.

"Alright, folks," you say, clapping your hands together. "Let’s talk case strategy."

You don’t even notice that your coffee cup, which you set down a little too close to the edge, is teetering dangerously. Casey notices. And now, apparently, it’s her job to keep you from causing minor disasters, because she smoothly reaches over and slides the cup to safety before you can knock it onto a detective’s lap. You don’t even register it.

The meeting begins, and Casey is bracing for impact. But then something wild happens.

You start talking about the case, and it’s like flipping a switch.

Your previously scattered energy sharpens into focus as you flip through documents and analyze evidence with an alarming level of precision. You start throwing out legal strategies, breaking down arguments, and countering objections before anyone can even make them. Every time someone raises a concern, you have an answer ready—a good answer.

It’s terrifying.

Casey watches, stunned, as you pick apart a potential defense strategy like it’s nothing, completely in your element. You lean forward, tapping a document with your pen, your once-awkward movements now deliberate and confident. Even Stabler, who usually looks unimpressed by everything, is giving you an appraising nod.

This… this makes no sense.

Not even ten minutes ago, you were drinking orange juice coffee. You almost took yourself out by walking into a doorframe. And now you’re making legal arguments that even Casey wouldn’t have thought of?

Who are you?

Then, in the middle of a brilliant breakdown of jury strategy, you gesture a little too enthusiastically and send your pen flying across the table.

It lands in front of Olivia with a soft clink.

The room goes silent for a second.

You blink at it.

Then, with absolutely zero shame, you just point at Olivia and say, "That’s yours now."

Olivia snorts. The tension in the room breaks, and a few people chuckle. You just keep going like nothing happened, diving back into your strategy like the absolute menace you are.

Casey drops her head into her hand, suppressing a groan.

She has no idea how you exist, but she’s starting to suspect she’s never going to be bored again.

#spicyschemmenti #casey novak #casey novak x reader #casey novak x female reader #casey novak x you #x fem!reader #x female reader #x female y/n #x reader #law and order svu #law and order special victims unit #special victims unit #svu #l&o svu

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moonshynecybin · 6 months ago

Note

honeysuckle: how our love unites enemies

honeysuckle:

scream okay i just edited some of airport au before getting these so it was rattling around in my head. and this ask made me think it would be funny if casey stoner showed up. so here. bad comedy. for those who do not remember last we left marc “the weirdest rumor i ever heard about myself was that i was gay” marquez, he had just had a sex dream about valentino rossi, who has recentlyish decided to be his friend again. as you can imagine he’s a bit confused about all this:

Marc decides that he should probably avoid Valentino for a while, after a dream like that. Get some distance and get his head on straight.

The problem is, Valentino apparently very much does not want to avoid Marc.

It’s in the chaos of the flyaways, that long slog at the end of the season, and Marc doesn’t have anything to prove at this point except for all the different things that he does, and it’s Phillip Island, a track where he can make a difference. He knows he has an opportunity where he can really sink his teeth into something here.

All said, it’s his favorite track, he’s looking forward to the weekend— and he’s really looking forward to approximately 9,000 miles between him and Valentino Rossi and his long fingers.

Which of course means that when he wheels around a corner on his scooter that Friday, he doesn’t expect to see Vale standing next to the media center with a day old scruff decorating the cut of his jaw and Casey goddamn Stoner bitching away about aero at his elbow.

Marc, shocked and in his raincoat, applies the brake to his scooter in an acute fashion and skids a little, motocross style.

Vale, under his neon yellow umbrella and always attracted to the sound of screeching rubber, sees him.

He starts walking.

Horrifically, Casey follows.

Marc smiles.

“I’ve been cornered.”

“Put your hands up in the name of the law,” Vale says in a terrible imitation of a cowboy, and then greets him. “Ah, you are ready for tomorrow?”

Marc nods before he can tell his neck what to do.

“Looks like no practice today, and more rain,” What would he normally say to Valentino. Well, normally he wouldn’t say anything. So that’s probably not a viable strategy.

“That’s good for you, yes?” Vale says, blue eyes intent on him, like he’s genuinely interested.He steps close to Marc, including him under his umbrella, and Marc tightens his fingers hard on the handlebars of the scooter. “Less practice for others and then— with the rain, easier to catch? A left-hand circuit, so you have more room to outpace the factory bikes.”

Casey, walking slowly, arrives in time to catch the tail end of Vale’s statement, and his eyebrows twitch up, gaze ping-ponging back and forth between them.

Marc waves.

Vale, though blunt, is not wrong, and Marc will take a win in the wet of it comes to that, but the forecast clears as the weekend progresses, and the thing he’s really missing so far this year is a clean win. No wet, no sand, just him and the motorcycle and everyone else behind him. The GP23, despite being unequivocally weaker after he exploded in Indonesia and they removed his improved flywheel, is still a bike that he has enough experience on that he can use his style a bit more and manipulate it the way he needs to, so the parts change hasn’t made too much of an impact on his pace. Plus, this is also one of Pecco’s more mediocre tracks, something he knows that Vale knows but will never say to Marc. Honestly, if it’s not for Pecco or the floundering VR46 team squad (unlikely), he has no idea why Vale is here. Maybe Casey invited him to do some dirt track.

He opens his mouth to twist all this into something shiny enough that it can be outwardly verbalized to two other world champions when Casey, so far neglected by Vale, speaks.

“Wow. You know, I really didn’t believe it.”

They pause.

“That you two had made up again, I mean,” He throws a thumb Vale’s way. “I thought this one would take it to his grave, he’s good at that.”

Marc hits him with a weak smile and Vale doesn’t even look over, eyes still on Marc and whatever he sees on his face.

Casey seems to notice, and a divot appears between his eyebrows. Marc scrambles to find something to say that will make this interaction end in the next ten seconds.

“Um, so what convinced you that he wasn’t evil?” Casey asks. So much for that dream.

“Same thing that convinced me that you weren’t,” Vale quips.

“Jury’s still out, then?”

Vale puts a hand on Marc’s shoulder and laughs at Casey beatifically. “Ah, no. Maybe he is just prettier than you? Better in bed, you know.”

Marc laughs, high and shrill, and Casey and Vale both turn to look at him.

“Okay, Marc?” Casey asks, and Marc nods. It’s a normal joke— it’s the kind Vale’s made before. About him, about Jorge Lorenzo, probably about Casey. If 20 year old Marc were here right now, he would just be thrilled that Vale was teasing Casey and using Marc to do it. That idiot would sit here and smile and think about women when he went home to jack off and go on with his day. No such pleasures for 31 year old Marc.

He swallows. He hasn’t responded quick enough. Vale’s eyes narrow, and Marc feels horribly exposed. He’s gotta get out of here.

“Yeah, yeah. Something in my throat, you know? Gresini— uh, they need me in the box, I have to go over something. For tomorrow, the sprint. So. I should go. It was nice seeing you both, I’ll see you later— “

He punches the gas, and as they scramble away from the scooter to avoid getting any toes caught in the crossfire, he zooms away before he can hear their responses.

When Vale’s hand slides off of Marc’s shoulder as he accelerates, the places where his fingers touched Marc burn all the way back to the garage.

#vale imitating a cowboy call that a spaghetti western #callie speaks #asks #did this answer your prompt no not really. but casey is like what is UP with those guys lmao #vale is not there to see casey btw. if that wasn’t obvious. he is stalking marc 9000 miles away bc he likes him like a CHUMP #i have an anon message abt this world that is in my drafts… i will get to u i WILL…#rosquez #my fic #prompts #airport au #mgp

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no-goodbyes-no-regrets · 2 months ago

Note

for your bucktommy prompts: evan's birthday

we're taking a little trip into the future for this one

(sorry it took so long!!)

You're going to be ok, Buck (AO3)

---

"Happy birthday cap!" his crew shouts when he walks into the firehouse.

It's a little past noon and after some pushing from Ravi, he'd taken the morning off to let Tommy spoil him with his famous lavish breakfast.

Ravi who is now grinning at him like the cat who caught the canary.

"Did you do all this?"

"Not just me. I had some help from the guys." he shrugs "And from your guy."

Buck frowns and turns around.

"You were in on it?" he asks Tommy who just laughs and kisses him.

"They wanted to throw you a party. I couldn't let them do it all on their own."

"Why do you think I convinced you to take the morning off?" Ravi asks

"Because you wanted the experience as interim captain?"

"That too. But we also needed time to get this place party ready."

Buck looks around and takes in the decorations. Balloons, a banner saying Happy Birthday Cap hanging between the ladder truck and the ambulance, colourful little flags hanging from various places in the house, and his crew all wearing sparkly party hats.

"We wanted to do something nice for you, cap. Because you're always there for us." Casey tells him and hands him and Tommy both party hats.

She'd transferred to his house the same week he'd officially started as captain and they'd held each other's hands through the first few weeks. He'd be lying if he said he didn't have a soft spot for her.

It's not quite the same thing as he'd had with Bobby, but it's close.

"And we got you a cake, cap!" Mason, the newest probie says as he and Kelley carefully wheel out the gurney from the ambulance to reveal a huge sheet cake.

"I made sure it's your favourite. Triple chocolate." Tommy says, putting the party hat on his head and playfully snapping the elastic against his chin, followed by a quick kiss to soothe the sting.

"You mean it's your favourite." Buck raises an eyebrow at his husband.

"Those things are not mutually exclusive."

"We got captain Wilson to give us the number for her favourite bakery." Kelley tells him while he lights the candles on the cake. "Well, Rav - I mean LT Panikkar did."

"You got Hen to give up her bakery secrets to you?"

"What can I say, she likes me. Always has."

Buck snorts.

"Denny won't be looking for an apartment after he graduates, will he?" Tommy asks and Ravi just gives him a grin and shrugs.

"Cap come on, you have to blow out the candles and make a wish." Casey interrupts and Buck let's himself be dragged over to the cake gurney.

"You're not going to shove it in my face, are you?" he asks, only half joking. "He did that on our wedding day and he's still paying for it." he nods at Tommy who laughs.

"Yeah he got a haircut yesterday guys, the curls are styled to perfection. Ruin the do and you ruin his mood. The party hat is pushing it already."

"We'll be on our best behaviour, Cap." Casey says and leads the rest of the crew into a slightly messy and off key rendition of happy birthday.

"Make a wish!" Ravi says as Buck gets ready to blow out the candles.

"I don't know what to wish for, I've got everything I ever dreamt of."

"Sap."

Buck laughs and takes a deep breath and blows out the candles.

Someone hands him a knife and a paper plate, and he carefully cuts the cake and starts handing out slices.

"You sit down and enjoy your cake." Ravi orders. "I managed to convince dispatch to reroute any calls that come in until four so we could have this party. Consider it my gift to you." he says and bumps his paper plate against Buck's and wishes him happy birthday.

Like they hadn't gone out for drinks and gotten stupid drunk together to mark the occasion just a few days ago.

"Alright, alright." Buck holds up his free hand. "Sitting down and enjoying."

He takes a few steps back from the cake gurney and looks around at his crew enjoying their afternoon of downtime and cake, the firehouse he leads, his closest friend as his second in command, and the office with his name on the door.

He feels Tommy wrap an arm around his waist and he turns his head to accept the kiss he knows is coming.

"Enjoying yourself, cap?" Tommy asks, a hint of teasing in his voice as he leads him to a quiet corner.

Buck smiles and rolls his eyes at the use of his title.

"Yeah. Today is a good day. Thank you."

Another kiss

"It really was mostly Ravi and the guys." Tommy admits and steals a bite of cake from Buck's plate. "My only job was to keep you occupied this morning and get you here on time."

"And you did a great job." Buck says and they laugh a little.

Tommy steals another bite of cake and Buck is tempted to just let him have it, but knows he'll say no and just keep sneaking bites until it's gone.

"Are you going to tell them?" Tommy softly asks a little while later and Buck shakes his head.

"Not yet. I want to keep it to ourselves a little longer." he says and thinks of the scan picture on his phone, and the physical copies in Tommy's jacket pocket, the very first look at their son or daughter. It's their little secret for now.

He glances over Tommy's shoulder at the memorial he had put in on his first day as captain and smiles.

"You're going to be ok, Buck." the words don't hurt as much as they used to, and as Tommy steals another bite of cake, he thinks that yeah, he was right. He is going to be ok.

#Anonymous #bucktommy #bucktommy fic #tevan #tevan fic #my writing

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scarisd3ad · 10 months ago

Text

Trouble

Chapter - two (They say I did something bad, then why’s it feel so good?)

Pairing(s) - Stu Macher x fem!reader x Billy Loomis

Previous >> next

Summary - They say I did something bad, then why's it feel so good? most fun I ever had, and I'd do it over and over and over again if I could. It just felt so good, good.

(A/N) - I know it’s been almost 4 months since the first chapter was posted but I finally got myself caught up and finally got this finished!

Warnings - mentions of murder, mentions of blood, regular scream warnings, infidelity, cursing, violent language, violent situations, murder, graphic descriptions of violence and murder, blood, many character deaths.

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It's 9:30 Stu, Billy, and I are sitting in my kitchen dressed in our Ghostface robes. The only thing that was left was our masks, which each sat on my kitchen counter. "You ready?" Stu asks as he hands me the glistening hunting knife. We each had one just in case we ran into trouble.

It's exactly 10 pm when we see Steve's car pull up in front of Casey's house. Stu and Billy do the hard part of kidnapping Steve Orth. They drag him into my house, and duct tape him to a yard chair in my living room. I'm still scared we might get caught, that somehow either one of them will escape and we'll all go to jail.

Steve wakes up right as Stu and Billy are bickering about who's going to end up killing him. "I want to kill him; I was the one who came up with the idea to kill him," Stu whispers shouts as he crosses his arms over his chest. "Well, I came up with the entire fucking plan, so I should be the one to do it." Billy says. Steve's eyes flutter open, but the two are too engrossed in their conversation to notice. Steve's eyes flicked across the room, trying to make sense of what was going on. His eyes stopped on me first, then Stu, then Billy, holding the knife. By then, he knew he was in deep shit. He struggles, trying to pull his arms and legs out of the duct tape restraints. "Wha-what the hell's going on?!" Steve shouts.

Billy's head cocks to the side. "We just wanna play a game, Steve," he says, his voice now modified by a voice changer that we bought at the Halloween pop-up shop. Steve's eyes furrow eyes still flicking between each one of us. "wha-what?" Billy laughs as he approaches Steve. He caresses his face with the sharp blade of his knife. Billy ignores Steve's answers and goes on the explain the rules of the 'game'. "The rules are simple: you answer our questions correctly, and your girlfriend doesn't get gutted like a fuckin' pig." the mention of Casey lights a fire inside of Steve. He struggles desperately, trying to break free. "You better not fucking hurt her! I'll fucking kill you if you touch her!" I can practically see Billy's smile through his mask as he presses the blade against Steve's neck.

Billy stood there, silent and intense, almost as if he were telepathically threatening him. Steve, oblivious to the warning, continued to fidget and threaten to kill us all if we didn't release him. Billy doesn't waste another second before slitting Steve's throat, letting him bleed out in my living room. "Well, that was boring," Stu mutters under his breath as he and Billy drag Steve's lifeless body into Casey's backyard.

Everything else goes according to plan. We sneak into her house using the spare key hidden under the doormat. We wait and listen as she enters the house. Then, Billy calls her, she discovers Steve's body outside on her back patio, and we chase her around. Everything goes smoothly until the very end. Stu isn't able to get to her in time. She's inches from getting away, and I can't let that happen. I run up in front of Stu and grab Casey tightly, holding her against my body before plunging the knife into her chest. She whimpers as I throw her to the ground. She looked down, crying as she watched her blood slowly begin to stain her cream-colored sweater.

I kneel to the ground, about to finish her off, when she attempts to knock the knife out of my hands. I'm quick to wrap my hand around her neck. She desperately grabbed at my hands, trying to loosen my grip as she cried. I don't give in, my hands tightening around her throat. But Casey was clever. She kneed me right in the crotch, causing me to double over in pain, and I cursed under my breath. "God dammit. Bitch!" Just when I was starting to recover, I noticed her parents arriving and Casey, despite her injuries, was making her way towards them, limping.

If I didn't act quickly, she would reach them, and we would all be caught. Luckily, the amount of pressure I had put on her neck had caused her to lose her voice, making her unable to call out to them. When I sneaked up behind her, her parents had already gone inside, giving me the perfect opportunity to finish her off. Her body feels lifeless as I push her back onto the creaking wooden porch. Despite her dwindling strength, she manages to reach up and grab my mask, slowly peeling it off my face. I don't care at this point, knowing I'm seconds away from killing her, anyway. Once my face is fully visible, the expression on her face changes. Although the life in her eyes is fading, I discern the shock, confusion, and sense of betrayal that registers in her gaze for a fleeting moment before I draw the knife back and plunge it back into her chest several times. One, two, three, four.

The only thing that gets me to stop is Stu's hand on my shoulder. I'm panting as I turn around. "Holy shit!" Stu's mask muffles his laugh as he stares down at the carnage that I left behind. "We gotta get her up in that tree before her parents come back out," Billy says as he walks up behind Stu. I grab my mask that was still somehow clutched in her blood-splattered hands. I go back inside as they gut her and tie her up in the tree.

I'm standing in my bathroom washing the blood off of my face. I stare at myself in the mirror, looking at the woman I have become. If we got caught somehow, my life would be over. There'd be no college, no family, no house behind a picket fence. The only thing I'd know is orange jumpsuits and metal bars. Even with the pit of anxiety that sat in my stomach, it all still felt so exhilarating. The blood, the knife, the act of taking someone's life just felt so exciting. I kind of liked it in a way. The knife just felt so good in my hands, and the blood felt so good against my skin.

"Hey-" I jump, dropping the rag I was holding into the sink before spinning around on my heels. Stu stands in the doorway with a smirk on his face as I grasp at my chest. "Oh, my god Stu, you scared me!" I say as he slowly walks towards me. He's still dawning his robes, which are now blood stained. "You did good out there for that being your first kill. I'm impressed," I laugh as he wraps one arm around my waist, pulling me close to him. "You think so?" I ask shyly, as if I hadn't stabbed her 4 times in the chest. "Oh, I know so, baby," he says before pressing his lips to mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Every time I kissed him, I couldn't believe all of this was happening to me. "God, can you two get out of the way?" Billy groans as he walks into the bathroom.

We pull away to see Billy, who is now back in his street clothes. He turns the sink on before splashing water onto his face in an effort to get rid of the splattered blood off of his face. He's going to Sid's after this so he can have an alibi that wasn't us. Stu was going to stay here so I could have an alibi. It'd be suspicious if I was home alone all night while Casey Becker was getting murdered next door. He sneaks out my bedroom window and runs down the alleyway behind the houses in my neighborhood until he's far enough away to feel safe enough to walk down the sidewalk.

20 minutes later, we're laying on my bed, tongues shoved into each other mouths, and my shirt thrown somewhere on the floor. I heard police sirens blaring down our street about 10 minutes ago. I just hoped they wouldn't feel the need to question us. I run my hands through his hair as his lips venture down my neck, sucking and biting at the supple flesh. I didn't mind if he left any marks, if one of the girls, or Randy ever asked, I could always come up with the excuse that I found a boyfriend. It's a dumb excuse, but the girls would be excited. They were always trying to set me up with guys from our school. They didn't want me to feel left out when they were making out with their boyfriends, on movie nights, at parties, or even just our regular lunch spot at school.

I throw my head back, giving him more access to my neck. I'm about to grind up into his body when 3 loud and sharp knocks interrupt us. I yelp before pushing Stu off of me and scattering to try to find my shirt. "Do we have to answer it? Can't we just ignore'em?" Stu asks. we already knew who it was. It was impossible for it not to be the police. "No! we'll seem more suspicious if we don't." I say as I pull my shirt over my head and begin to walk downstairs.

We already had a made-up story for what we were doing tonight, knowing they'd ask. We were just watching movies with Casey, and one other unnamed boy that would take the fall for any hickeys, or the lingering smell of sex on my body. she left at around 9:15 because her boyfriend was coming over, that was the last time we saw her. I pull the deadbolt off before unlocking and throwing the door open to see Dewey Riley. I let out a sigh of relief. Thank God it was Dewey. He'd at least be a little more lenient with me.

I put on my "innocent act." "Hey Dewey," I furrowed my brows and asked, "What's going on?" I looked around, trying to appear confused as I stared at the cop cars and ambulances. Dewey clears his throat "Well...um, Casey Becker was murdered next door" My hand slaps over my mouth as I gasp. Tears pooled in my eyes. I could see the pity in Dewey's eyes. I was good. "We need to question you and any others that are in the house" I nod as I hear Stu begin to walk down the stairs behind me. Dewey's eyes flick up to him, brows furrowing before asking, "Stuart, what are you doing here?" Stu shrugs "Hanging out. What's going on?" I can feel Dewey's eyes settle on the big red hickey that sat on my neck. His eyes then flick up to Stu, whose hair is a mess. I can see the suspicion in his eyes. He clears his throat once again before saying, "We need you two down at the station for questioning."

I find myself in a dimly lit interrogation room at the police station, my leg bouncing up and down with nervous energy. Suddenly, a police officer, one I've never met before, enters the room, muttering my name before taking a seat in the chair opposite me. Officer Torres introduced himself and placed a small notepad on the table. "We have a few questions for you. Can you please tell us what you were doing at 9 o'clock tonight?" he inquired. "Um hanging out with friends," I lean back in my chair, trying to make enough eye contact to seem innocent without overdoing it and seeming guilty.

He nodded, then shifted his gaze down to his notepad, where he began to write. "Who all was there?" he asks, now raising his head to look at me again. "Um Stu, me Casey...and this guy she said he older 'n went to the community college. Oh...and Billy, he came over earlier but left to go be with his girlfriend." the officer nods before writing again. "This is Stuart Macher, Casey Becker, and Billy Loomis?" my leg bounced up and down under the table anxiously. I just hoped that Stu was at least sort of sticking to the story we came up with. "Yes, sir." I whisper. He nods, jotting down a few more notes before moving on to the next question "Um what..what exactly happened while you were hanging out? Did Casey seem scared...that something might happen to her? Did she ever mention someone threatening her in any way?" I shook my head; my heart was beating a mile a minute. One wrong move, one slip up, and they would put me away for life. "No sir. We just hung out watching movies and stuff. Casey and the college boy left at...I Dunno maybe 9:30 said her boyfriend was coming over."

I look up at the clock that hangs directly behind the officer. 11 pm. God, I just wished this could all be over with. "What about this other boy? Do you know his name?" he asks. I shake my head. We couldn't give him a name. There was always a possibility this made-up man somehow had an identical real-life counterpart we didn't know about, and our entire plan would be in shambles. "Did they both go back to her house?" I shake my head once again "No..um, I watched him drive off. Something about a house party in the town over" he nods, jotting down a few more notes. "What about Billy Loomis? What time did he leave?"

The relentless stream of questions felt never-ending. "What did you do after?" "Did you hear anything?" "Are you sure you didn't hear anything?" "Where's your brother tonight?" I just hoped I didn't look too suspicious and that all of my answers seemed true. I didn't get back out into the lobby until 11:30. Stu still wasn't done. I just hoped he didn't do something stupid.

I'm sat by Dewey's desk while he files out some type of paperwork. "Are you going to tell my parents?" I whisper, hoping he wouldn't, but knowing deep down he would because of legality. "Have to since we questioned you. You're a minor." I turned 18 at the end of next month. Did he have to tell them? They'd kill me if they knew I had boys over. "Do you have to tell them about the boys being over? They'll kill me if they knew?" he sighs, looking up at me before saying, "I'll see what I can do."

I stare down at my hands, I'm terrified that the police officer had seen right through me and knew exactly what I did. That I had killed her, and it felt so good. Deep down I hate myself for liking it so much. Tears pool in my eyes as the emotion and realization of what I had done set in. Tears streamed down my face as I desperately tried to wipe them away. "Hey, hey what's wrong?" Dewey asks, as he sets his hand on my shoulder. "I-I just can't believe she's dead!" I sobbed as I wiped at my cheeks. "If I had heard something..." I stop to let a few more tears fall down my cheeks "I could've helped her."

After Stu finishes his interrogation, Dewey gives us a ride back to my house in his police car. The entire block is still bathed in the eerie glow of the red and blue police lights. The Becker residence is cordoned off with bright yellow crime scene tape, and her parents are standing on the sidewalk, sobbing as they speak with the chief of police. "You sure you wanna stay here? Can take you back to my parent's place? Tatum wouldn't say no to a sleepover." Dewey proposed. I shake my head, mumbling a quiet "no" as I open up the car door. "You need a ride home, Mácher?" Stu also shakes his head as he begins to follow me, sliding out of the cop car. "Nah, my car's here," he says before slamming the door. "Alright, you two stay safe, alright?" Dewey says as he rolls down his window. I nodded, waving goodbye as I walked up the pathway to my house.

Dewey stays parked outside my house as we walk back inside, probably waiting to make sure Stu leaves. "Just drive around the block once. Make sure he's not following you before you come back. Alright?" I say as I close the door. Stu nods as he grabs his car keys off the table that sat in the entryway. "I'll be back. Don't miss me too much," he says with a stupid grin on his lips as he leaves out the front door. As I walk upstairs to my room, all I can think about is what I've become, how much I liked that knife in my hands, and how much I anticipated the next time it'd be in them again.

Taglist

@pookie-snookie @heyspl4zi @drilethetoppat @ciuguapa @heraliveken @naito55 @katie-tibo @eve-rockin-blog @bitchybasmentcats @1ts-jeany @kitkatdreamsmpmcyt @slowly-becoming-like-draculaura @niteskysx @weaponxgames @vrsin @cupid3clipse @st-rgirl-forlife @confusedriftin @catastrophic-panda @carnagetrickster21 @kaiparkerwife @d0llykill @daddy-celine @yaoi1206 @hellraser1999 @altair10 @loveheart-123 @pearledreader @multifandom0-0 @a-bunny13 @kafkaesque-b1tch3s @lo1velyx @sweet-texas-girl @thatbabydeer @y-nk-live @eliveonsunshine @lyrablack71 @a-bbles @i-like-to-read08

#fanfics #x reader #stu macher x fem!reader #scream x reader #scream #ghostface x reader #ghostface #scream 1996 #stu macher x reader #stu macher #billy loomis x fem!reader #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis #fem!reader

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yuniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiie · 1 year ago

Text

Yandere Billy and Stu (1/4)

Your eyes ran over the room you were in, taking in the soft light that went through the window. But Casey had been late, it left feelings of unease and dread into you, and it all made you sick to the stomach, whoever this killer was was sick. But you remembered your promise to Tatum that you were staying over at their house. And you mentally cursed remembering your own words before, ‘i’m not much of a party person’. You hated it,

you remembered when Casey was still here she would always tell everyone about how shy you were and it wasn’t near any good way. She was your childhood friend but despite all the bullying, it left a small void in you she wasn’t here, she had been your best friend since you were kids..you decided against it, it was better to go rest instead of think now, you walked over to the bathroom to get ready for the night.

You brushed your teeth almost absent mindedly before you snapped out of your blissful dream state by a phone call. You weren’t expecting one, since the sun went down. Therefor you knew better than to pick it up, it was night. You recalled your parents words, shaking hand hovering over the phone you picked it up. Lifting the phone to your ear you heard a little static. You raised a brow and held the phone tighter, “…”“Not even a hello?” it hadn’t sounded familiar. Surely distinct, “Who is this? Do i know you..?” She quipped on the phone, but not in a snarky remark.

“Just wanted to have a little talk, or is this the wrong number?”, Y/N being unsure gripped the telephone a bit tighter, twirling the wire around it was a nervous habit, “This is the wrong number, bye.” “But i’m wanting to play a little game~” It sounded mockingly playful it frustrated her a bit, she shoved the phone back into the receiver, hand trembling.

It rung again, two rings to be exact this time, and she answered, she couldn’t get a word out. “You hung up again, why is that..” “..Y/N?”

This was all too fast. Mentally she cursed before clutching the phone tighter, “W-what do you want from me?..” She whimpered quietly, leaving the other ‘person’ on the phone to laugh loudly. “Isn’t that simple? Look how gullible you are. Little y/n.”

Tears rolled down her chubby cheeks immediately, she knew who this was. He was Casey’s murderer, it was this sick bastard. In a fast movement she threw the phone and broke into quiet sobs, flocking to the door and reaching to lock it only for her heart to drop into her stomach in realization it was wide open. She pierced the figure’s ears with her loud scream. Her hands pawing at his own to let go, sobbing cut off as their fingers wrapped around Y/N’s windpipe. She was devoid of any noise. She reached for the mask, with choked blabbering only on deaf ears. It tilted their head away mockingly when she reached for the mask. She shot up, elbow slamming into the figure’s side, they let out a loud grunt. “You little—“ They didn’t get a word out before Y/n swung at the figure again. Ensuring they stayed down.

Pushing the figure off of her she gasped for air. Throwing her body back against the counter and holding onto it’s edge. Standing up and taking off in a fast bolt towards the stairs, the figure left abandoned with a aching side on the ground, you broke out into pants, gripping the phone tighlty after locking the door to your bedroom. Contacting the police, her heart was racing with fear, what the hell had happened just now began to take a toll on her mind, she already had dealt with the death of her friend Casey but now she was being attacked, when the sirens flashed. “Y/n. What the hell happened baby?!” She cried out when arms wrapped around her. Eyes widenening in confusion and terror when she realized the window was open but she was so absent minded she didn’t realize. “Billy..” Her voice broke when she spoke, she saw his concerned gaze. But she couldn’t trust him.

She shoved him off of her, afraid. And he looked almost hurt she didn’t see through as he feigned worry and heartbreak. “Y/n-“ “Don’t t-touch me!” She babbled shakily, pushing his hands off once more when he tried to touch her again. Billy knew this wasn’t any time to touch her now considering her state, she didn’t want to. The police a matter of time they had showed up at the door. Running downstairs leaving billy abandoned in the bedroom you ran and saw Dwight. Your friend’s older brother pushing through the crowd.

“Dewey!” She cried out loud.

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dylniz · 1 month ago

Text

TMNT MUTANT REIGN CHAPTER 3 Sneak Peek

April was honestly considering throwing away her whole future just to beat someone up again.

How was it possible for someone to be so annoying and dumb it’s almost comedic? How was it possible for Casey Jones to be the literal worst project partner in the history of human education?

“We have to pick a specific genre from a specific country as our topic. Shakespeare on his own is not a genre.”

Casey just shrugged, arms crossed, looking infuriatingly bored. “I dunno. I just said the first name I thought of. Are we allowed to pick, like…singers? ‘Cause they write lyrics? Writing about Ken Carson could be pretty rad.”

If god was real, she clearly was not on his good side. There was no other explanation for her having to deal with this oatmeal cookie in thrifted JNCO jeans besides divine punishment.

“No! We are not writing about Ken Carson for our—“ she sighed, exhaling through her nose to calm herself down.

“Can you tell me up front whether or not you give a fuck ‘bout this assignment? It’ll be a lot easier that way to explain to Mrs Choi why only my name is on the final project.”

That got his attention. He straightened, slightly.

“Okay okay, jeez! Listen, Amy—“

“It’s April.”

“Can I just call you Red? Red, listen, I’m sorry.”

April raised a very unimpressed eyebrow. “You’re sorry.”

Casey nodded. “I can’t fail this class. Like, at all. My grades already circling in the drain.”

“Then why aren’t you doin’ jack shit??” She said, her voice a little louder now. One kid glanced over, clocked the chaos, and promptly looked away again, deciding it wasn’t interesting enough to keep listening in on.

Casey glanced around nervously before speaking a bit more quietly.

“I genuinely don’t know anything! Okay? We miss hella classes due to hockey season and I’m really, really bad with names. These authors all sound like gibberish to me. Okay?”

..Oh.

April bit the inside of her cheek, that explained some things.

“Okay…okay, look. This is a research project right? It’s not rocket science. We have like…a month to complete it. We’ve got a month. If you show up, we can knock it out together. I’ll help you research, maybe do most of the writing, help with your section. Deal?”

He lifted his hand like he was going in for a dap.

April gave him a look so cold he put it back down without a word.

“How about this,” she continued. “We hit the library after school, pick a topic, do a little diggin’ and go from there. Sound good?”

Casey nodded.

“Perfect. Now—“

Her sentence was interrupted by the bell and the sound of chairs scraping against the floor as students enthusiastically got ready to leave.

Casey immediately slung his bag over his shoulder like he was training for a sprint. April was about to do the same when her phone buzzed.

Phone call from: Mikey

“Uhh, can you gimme just a sec? I need to take this.” April said as Casey just shrugged, wandering off toward Taylen, who immediately looped her arm through his and threw April another sharp look over her shoulder.

April ignored and picked up.

“Mikey, what’s up?”

“April! Are you free after school?”

April glanced back at the doorway. Casey was now fist-bumping one of his hockey teammates while Taylen scrolled on her phone, still hanging off his arm.

“Uhh, not really. I’ve got a project to—”

“Well you better make time because we need you.”

“Mikey, man I wish, I got a project I need to start tonight.”

“It’s about the lab, we need the portal again.”

April blinked.

“You wanna drag me down that hole again?? Why??”

A new voice, Donnie’s voice specifically chimed in from the other end.

“I hacked a US satellite to locate more mutants.”

“…”

“April?”

“You’re telling me—” she glanced around and dropped her voice to a whisper. “You’re telling me you hacked a—”

“Technically also a CIA satellite.”

“Oh, even better. Now I’m an accomplice. Get the CIA on my ass too! I’m gonna get waterboarded in a warehouse somewhere in Jersey. Is this call being traced?”

“Of course it’s not, I made sure our phones make all our calls untraceable.” Donnie scoffed.

“Great. Awesome.” April rubbed her forehead. “So you need me to unlock the portal so you can…what, find a mutant?”

“Yyyup.” Leo said.

“And this is like- urgent. Like- I have to head over to the Gramercy sewer like..RIGHT after school.”

“Preferably. We’re hoping to find this one mutant before we lose its signal.” Donnie said.

April glanced at Casey and sighed. “Okay. Okay fine I’ll— I’ll be there in 40.”

She hung up, squared her shoulders, and dragged herself to the doorway, where Casey was waiting, Taylen still hanging on him like an accessory.

“Red! Red-y to head out? Get it? Like ready but—“

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” April offered a pained smile. “So…I’m sorry Jones but something came up. My friends uhh..” she trailed off under the stares of Taylen and Casey’s hockey teammate, both eyeing her oddly.

“My friends…dog died and he’s like…crying. And stuff.”

“Awh what? That’s horrible!” Casey said.

“Yeah yeah he was like full on sobbing over the phone so…rain check?”

“Of course man. Totally get it. Like when I was 6 my dog Princesa choked to death on one of my mom’s earrings and I cried so much I threw up.”

Taylen wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“Wow.” April said, already backing away. “Okay, that’s really sad. Really sad— but I gotta get going so…just text me on insta!”

“I don’t have your insta.”

“…I’ll text you. Bye!”

And with that she scurried off.

There was a beat of silence before Taylen snorted. “She’s such a weirdo.”

Liam, Casey’s teammate, smirked. “She’s got issues y’know. Like, actual psychological problems.”

“Okay okay, she’s not bad.” Casey said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Taylen played with the ends of her shiny brown hair. “You don’t remember when I told you about the lunchroom incident? I couldn’t get that juice out of my top after two washes. It looked like hippie tie-dye.”

“Okay, that was a bit uncalled for but that was like— two years ago right? Drama from 8th grade? And like, she’s smart. At least I won’t flunk!”

Taylen rolled her eyes. “Whatever, she’s still an aggro freak. Does this mean you’re coming to Monica’s tonight?”

“Yeah totally. Do you need me to bring drinks?”

“Duh.”

…

#tmnt #tmnt mutant reign #tmnt au #tmnt iteration #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt casey #casey jones #tmnt april #april o'neil #tmnt fanart

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copingwithobsessions · 2 years ago

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Billy is autistic ♾

Just me rambling about an headcanon I take wayyyy too seriously :)

Hyperfixation : horror movies (obviously)

He just keeps talking about it. All the time.

Also him using his hands while talking in this scene

(There's also something to be said about him mentioning the queer actors and not the 'straight' characters but that will be for another post-)

Also in the phone call where we're sure it's him :

(If he was the one calling Casey then there's even more-)

Also him just constantly talking with movie-related things : "It was edited for TV- all the good stuff was cut out", "nice solid R rating, on our way to a NC-17", "lately we're just sort of edited for television", "Maybe your movie-freaked mind lost it's reality button","It's all a movie, it's all...one great big movie.Only you can't pick your genre","I think she wants a motive","I don't really believe in motive, Sid.", "See it's a lot scarier when there's no motive Sid", "Is that motive enough for you ?", "How's that for a motive ?", "Just pretend it's all a scary movie Sid...How do you think it's gonna end ?", "Perfect ending.", "Now Sid, don't you blame the movies. Movies don't create psychos, movies make psychos more creative !" and basing his killing spree on horror movie tropes : phone calls, masked killer, virgins being the final girls (literally having sex with Sidney to fulfill the trope), 'no motive' etc...

2. Abnormal posture

3. Staring (last 2 photos, both scenes in Sidney's room, police station scene...basically when there's Sid) or excessive blinking (doorway scene, kitchen scene...(basically when there's Stu)

4. Plans and changements

Billy (and Stu) planned their entire killing spree (from the dates it would be on : surrounding the one year anniversary of Maureen's death, to the person they would frame and his supposed motive as well as Casey and Steve's murders with the phone call, the attack at Sidney's house, Billy's incarceration, Stu's phone call following it, Billy's fake death, kidnapping Neil before his flight and using his phone, hiding his car, using a voice changer, stabbing each other to seem like victims, the party etc...)

When Billy's (and Stu's) plans get changed (Dewey, Gale and Kenny being present, Sid escaping the kitchen with her dad and Stu losing too much blood), Billy panics and goes into what could be defined as a meldown : throwing out insults, walking in circles, never going to check on the first floor, destroying Stu's living room and just panicking all around-

(When he fails getting Sidney to trust him and makes her escape to the toilets, he punches himself in frustation)

5. Insociability

Basically doesn't talk in the fountain scene

Awkward and Unsettling while talking, even to his friends

Doesn't pay attention to girls being interested in him

Doesn't seem at ease with the number of people leaving the party

(Even fidgeting though that may be just be him checking that the people are leaving for real)

6. Overdramatic

7. Favorite person/people

Okay this one's not that common in autistics but for Billy, he definitely has a special person, two in fact :

He literally started killing because his mom "moved out and abandoned" him.

For Stu, I will be vague cause I'll talk about it in detail in the other post 👀but basically he's not really himself unless Stu's there and planned a killing spree where only they would survive (+ trusted him to stab him).

Bonus : If Billy is the one who called Casey

"I only eat popcorn at the movies" Well I'm getting ready to watch a video "Really what ?" Oh, just some scary movie "You like scary movies ?" Huhuh "What's your favorite scary movie ?" Hum- I don't know... "You have to have a favorite, what comes to mind ?" Hum...Halloween ! You know the one with the guy in the white mask who walks around and stalks babysitters. "Yeah." What's yours ? "Guess." Hum- Nightmare on Elm Street ! "Isn't that the one where the guy had knives for fingers ?" Yeah, Freddy Krueger. "Freddy, that's right. I liked that movie.It was scary." Well the first one was but the rest sucked."

"It's an easy category : movie trivia"

"Come on, it's your favorite scary movie, remember ? He had a white mask, he stalked the babysitters"

"Then you should know Jason's mother, Mrs Vorhees, was the original killer ! Jason didn't show up until the sequel."

And that's it ! A complete analysis of what could be considered autistic traits from Billy that got way too long-

#scream #scream franchise #scream 1996 #billy loomis #stu macher #sidney prescott #stuilly #autistic headcanon

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wellvak · 2 months ago

Text

The Price

Summary: Casey is a writer. Alex is her muse. That’s it nothing bad happens

Fluff (kinda)

Casey was startled awake by loud knocks on her door. She groaned at the pain in her back and arms– she’d fallen asleep again on her desk in an awkward position; head rested on her left forearm while the palm rested on the depression of her right hand’s elbow joint, while the rest of her right arm bent upwards. Her laptop’s document was opened, the work nowhere near being done.

The door was knocked on again. Casey yelled out, “Coming! Coming,” slowly rubbing her sore neck as she stood up. She walked from her desk to the front door in only a few seconds– it was a very small, one-room apartment, after all, but most definitely better than sharing a bedroom with her sisters.

She swung the door open, revealing Sammy, her second eldest sister, in her coat, a paper bag in hand.

Sammy smiled at the sight of Casey, and Casey had already smelled the comment from a mile away. “Morning, Counselor,” she said. “You look ready for court.”

“I told you to stop calling me that,” Casey rolled her eyes. “I’m not even a lawyer.”

“Yet.”

“Who said I actually want to be one? I just like writing about law.”

“You’re young. That can still change.”

This was a common banter between them; Casey was the youngest, so she was the family’s last hope to make their late parents proud. Frankly, she was starting to get sick of the unrealistic expectations, but Casey liked Sammy better than everyone else, so she’d learned to accept their dynamic.

“Anyway, I brought you breakfast,” While they were walking inside, Sammy passed the paper bag by throwing it perfectly; Casey caught it without looking back. “Nice to see you’re still as smug as ever.”

Casey shrugged. “You’re the one who threw it. It was just instinct.” She opened the bag to see a small burrito inside. “Only one?”

“And still as greedy as ever,” Sammy shook her head. “It’s breakfast. Train your bottomless stomach to survive a little hunger. Might help you lose some of that weight.”

“That’s mean.”

“I’m your sister. It’s my job to be a little mean.”

“Whatever.” Casey starts to bite on the burrito. It was her favorite kind; filled with eggs, sausages, perfectly grilled. She watched Sammy take interest in her laptop, and she swiftly moved in front of it to block Sammy’s view. “If you being nosy is the price for breakfast, then I’m okay with hunger.”

“Oh, c’mon, Case. I just want to see the work that’s been keeping you all cooped up in here for months. When was the last time you went out?”

“I have a job I go to every night.”

“You know what I mean. When was the last time you went out with a girl?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Yes, it is. This book will kill you one day, Case.”

“As long as I get to finish it, I’ll die happily.”

Sammy sighed. She began to leave for the door. “I give up. Have fun with your laptop and your own fictional characters.”

“Thanks for break–” Sammy slammed the door close.

Casey shrugged once more.

That was the last time she saw her alive.

The funeral was quick and silent. Not a word was spoken between the remaining Novak sisters, none of them disagreed that it was not needed. They all went on their own way right after her body was lowered onto the ground. Only a few of them shed actual tears– Casey not being one of them. She’d used up all her tears the night before.

The detectives working on the case were there, too– Olivia Benson, a friend of Sammy’s, and her partner Elliot Stabler. Casey didn’t know what to make of them yet, but she approached them as the funeral concluded.

“Detectives.”

“Ms. Novak,” Benson said, a little startled. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks,” Casey replied flatly, the same response she’d given to every acquaintance and distant relative. “Do you– do you know who did this?”

“We’re working on it,” Stabler said, not leaving room for any more questions, but Casey knew better.

“You must have suspects,” she pressed.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. We can’t disclose the details of the case to anyone.”

Casey narrowed her eyes at them– both of guarded, though Olivia looked a bit more sympathetic. “Right,” she said. “Of course.”

Back at her home, Casey felt it before noticed that something wasn’t right.

At first, she chalked it up to the fact that this apartment was missing something– or rather, someone. Sammy might not have lived here, but she was here often. Maybe this old building, too, was feeling a sense of loss.

But that doesn’t make any sense, Casey reminded herself. You’re always so horribly poetic when you’re sad, Sammy would say. Casey closed her eyes and walked to her desk, sitting on the old wooden chair, hands ready on the keyboard of her laptop, as she began to type:

THE package arrived at noon in the middle of summer heat.

She sighed loudly, head leaning on the edge of the desk.

“Is that all you’ve got?”

“Wha–”

Casey jumped in surprise, causing the chair to be toppled, falling to the floor with her in it. She felt the pain in her lower back and groaned, wishing she owned an expensive desk chair with a cushion.

But of course, that shouldn’t be her biggest concern now. It should be the fact that there was a woman in her room– a beautiful woman, Casey sorted that out for later– with long blonde hair, eyes as blue as the ocean, and glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. She was dressed like an average office worker, a white shirt and a grey vest, with black slacks, though the way her face was sculpted was anything but average.

Casey stood up slowly, rubbing the soreness of her back. “Who– who the hell are you? What are you doing here?”

“Relax, Casey,” the woman said. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

“You appeared out of nowhere! Did you break in while I was–” Casey stopped herself. There was no need to tell a stranger, a stranger who broke into her home at that, about the sister she'd just lost.

“I didn’t break in,” the woman said, still very calmly. “You let me in.”

“I don’t even know who you are–”

“Yes, you do; you’ve known me for years. Ever since you were a little girl.” The woman pointed at Casey’s laptop. She still had no idea what she was talking about– she clearly wasn’t well.

“Listen, ma’am,” Casey tried the diplomatic path. “I don’t know how you know my name, and I don’t know how you got here, but it’s best if you leave right now.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll call the police.”

“I would advise against that, Casey.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because you know they won’t see me.”

Casey stared blankly at her. “No. Nope. No. I’m so not going there.” She began to walk toward her bed, letting herself fall as her face hit her pillows. “I just need some sleep,” she said, her voice muffled.

When Casey woke up hours later, the woman was still there, watching her. For some reason, she breathed a sigh of relief.

“You’re starting to creep me out,” Casey said. “Who are you, really?”

“Why don’t you sit by your desk and find out?”

“I don’t–” Casey felt a strange pull towards her desk chair. She suddenly really, really wanted to sit and… write? Ah, what the hell. “If I sit there, will you go away and leave me alone?”

“That depends.”

“Depends on what?” The woman didn’t reply. Casey rolled her eyes and went to sit on the chair, fingers already on the keyboard as soon as she did so. She began by deleting the words she’d typed before, and started over:

THE package came in the middle of summer. Heatwave had already begun to heighten the emotions of drivers, horns polluting the already-loud populated city. The whirring of the fan was a friendly sound, and the receiver of the package did nothing but watch its blades go around.

It was unopened for two whole days, sitting untouched upon the mat of the lonely apartment.

Casey continued typing like she was running out of time. The woman’s presence was forgotten for a moment, her focus completely on the laptop, immersing herself in the world she had created on her own. She could start to hear each character’s voice in her head, talking, suggesting, reacting to every word and every scene she had planned.

An hour or so passed and she’d managed to put out an entire chapter, five thousand words more than what she’d tried to do for the past year.

“Whoa,” she slumped back in her chair, suddenly feeling very exhausted. “How did I do that?” She turned to the woman beside her, the corners of her lips twitching in amusement. “Did you do this? How– What–”

“I told you I’m not here to hurt you,” the woman said. “I’m here to help.”

“You’re here to help,” Casey repeated. “You’re my… My muse?”

The woman nodded. “Muse, inspiration– sometimes even afflatus.”

“Sounds pretentious.”

“You don’t know how many of you writers are.”

Casey snorted, though not disagreeing. “So, what should I call you?”

The woman thought for a moment. “You can call me Alex.”

“Pretty name.”

“You’re just saying that because you want to finish your book.”

“Maybe.” But you are pretty, Casey wants to say, but finds herself tongue tied. They fell into a strange silence, timidly glancing at one another as Casey briefly wonders if Alex was really there, physically or otherwise. Or maybe she was simply going insane. “Can I try something?” Casey finally found the courage to ask.

Alex almost looked relieved, as if she was wondering the same thing too. “Yes.”

Casey raised her hand. Alex did the same. Slowly, they met halfway until the surface of their skins joined.

Casey watched Alex close her eyes and let out a little sigh at the contact. Alex’s hand was soft, and not too warm or too cold, just the right temperature for her. They both lightly pushed themselves closer until their fingers intertwined.

“You’re real,” Casey breathed out.

“I am,” Alex confirmed. “Because you are.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Some things aren’t meant to be understood.”

“I guess.”

They still hadn’t let go of each other, nor did they want to. But, eventually, the air was too charged with something unrecognizable. Alex was the first to lower her hand.

“While I’m here, you better get to it, Novak.” She jutted her chin out at the laptop.

Casey raised her eyebrows, but still did as she was bid. “While you’re here?”

“I’m not here voluntarily,” Alex said, somewhat sadly. “I’m here because of you.”

“I don’t–” She stopped herself. This was a little too much for her to process, but Alex was right– Casey had to keep writing while she was given the chance. “Do I just–”

“Just write,” Alex’s voice was calm, soothing. “I know what you’ve already planned: a prosecutor receives a package from a serial killer who hasn’t made a move in over ten years. Then what happens?”

“She opens the package to see a decapitated head inside,” Casey began typing. “Then she called her friend from the police to immediately investigate it.”

“And…?”

“The DA told her she was too close, and passed the case to a colleague instead.”

“Does that ever stop her?”

“No,” Casey was like a madwoman, she didn’t even bother to check the word count like she liked to do. She knew it would satisfy her anyway. “She’s driven, stubborn, but most of all, she gets shit done.”

“Result-oriented,” Alex smirked. “Sounds awfully familiar.”

“Oh no. Am I becoming one of your pretentious writers?”

Alex paused, frowning. “That’s not how it works. You’re my only writer.”

“I have so many questions,” Casey’s eyes never left the screen. “But I can’t… Stop.”

The day went on like this; Casey going over what was currently going on in the scene she was writing, Alex standing behind her, providing commentary and suggestions. Their banter was as easy as breathing, like they had known each other their whole lives, while when it was silent, they were accompanied by the clacking of the fingers pushing down the keyboard of her laptop. Casey’s curiosity, confusion, even her grief were put aside– she became a machine that produces words, constructing them into a story she had wanted to tell ever since she was a child. A product of a dream lost to the ocean of wasted potential, because she kept rowing the boat and looked for another, refusing to be defeated by circumstances.

Eventually, her fingers slowly stopped moving. She exhaled an exhausted sigh, though smiling profusely as she turned around– only to find nobody was there.

“Alex?” She called out. Nothing. Casey lightly slammed her forehead on the desk. “Maybe I really am going crazy.” Her last thoughts before she fell asleep were of blonde hair, and Sammy’s voice saying, finally found a girl and she’s all in your head, Case?

When she woke up, it was half past eight. Alex was still not there, but Casey knew what she had to do to get her back.

Two layers of jacket weren’t enough to protect her from the biting cold of the night. Still, she rode her bike through, memorizing in her head the address she’d found on the internet. When she found it, Casey parked her bike on the sidewalk, then locked it onto the nearest handrail.

She opened the doors to the bar she was looking for. The place was packed with detectives in coats and some uniformed officers, busily chatting among themselves. Casey’s eyes landed on a group of four detectives, who quickly noticed she had just walked in.

Without wasting much time, Casey approached them with confidence and determination she herself didn’t expect. “Detectives,” she greeted. “Sorry to bother your evening.”

“It’s okay, Ms. Novak,” Stabler said, a deep frown on his forehead. “How can we help you?”

“Just Casey, please,” she turned to Benson. “I’d like to know what’s going on with the investigation.”

The detectives all looked meaningfully at each other. “Ms, Novak– Casey–” Benson began. “We already told you, we can’t share the details–”

“I don’t need details, I just need to know if you all are doing anything to catch the man who killed my sister.” Casey glanced at the two other detectives she hadn’t met before, just to make sure they knew they were included.

“Of course we’re doing something–”

“Prove it.”

Stabler decided to take point. “We’ve got a suspect in custody.”

“El–” Benson tried to stop him, but he stopped her with one look.

“I want to see him,” Casey said.

“Tomorrow morning,” he said. “We’re going to need to know if you recognize him anyway.”

“Okay,” Casey started to look around the room. “That’s good.”

“Casey?” She heard Benson say. “You okay?”

There was no sign of blonde hair anywhere– Casey started to panic. “Yeah. I’m good.” The apartment. Maybe she was waiting for her at home. “I need to go back.”

She ignored the confused looks from the detectives, and left the bar, immediately riding her bike home. Just as she suspected, Alex was there, perched on the edge of her desk, a proud smile plastered on her face.

Later, after another incessant writing session, Casey laid in bed while Alex was on her chair. She figured it out now, as long as Alex was there, she could write more. But Casey didn’t want her to go yet.

“So, is this a common occurrence?” Casey asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

“What is?”

“Writers meeting their muse.” She turned on her side to face Alex.

“Not very often, no.” Casey noticed Alex’s perfect posture on the chair, spine almost as straight as a ruler. “Like I said, we don’t come in unless we’re invited in.”

Casey giggled sleepily. “Like vampires.”

“Please don’t compare us to those abhorrent creatures.”

Her eyes shot up at that. “They’re… Real?”

Alex smiled, amused. “A long time ago, yes.”

“How old are you?”

“Very old, technically. But when I’m assigned to a human, my memories of previous assignments are wiped out. Therefore, I’m as old as you are.”

“Have you alway been around?”

“Yes,” Alex said. “You just couldn’t see me until now.”

Casey had closed her eyes. She felt Alex’s hand stroke her hair gently, and she thought that if she was a cat, she would purr.

“Go to sleep, Case.”

“Will you be here tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Casey drifted off to sleep, for the first time in a year, on her own bed, with a satisfied smile on her face.

note: i really wanted to make this sad but im not miserable enough today. also I felt a sudden rush of adoration for casey that i just felt bad pls i just want to hug this woman and tell her everythings going to be ok

#calex #casey novak x alex cabot #casey novak #alex cabot

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 years ago

Text

Silver Lining 5

Warnings: non/dubcon, speech impediment, bullying and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: silverfox!Bucky Barnes

Summary: You have an unpleasant encounter with an older man.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Your phone buzzes as your niece bounces dangerously close to the tree. Your sister's in town with her two kids, but neither her or her husband seem to care much about watching them. Somehow, you're tasked with that and unsure what to do about their endless energy. You envy them truly so you just kind of let them go.

You hear your mother and sister chattering in the kitchen, her husband is in the garage with your stepdad, and as always, you're the odd one out. You slide your phone out and check the ID. It's Bucky, technically your new boss. You notice you've missed a few texts from him. Great. Not a good start. You were supposed to tell everyone at dinner about your new gig.

You answer, watching the kids without much thought, play tug of war over a string of tinsel. You should stop them but it'll just snap anyhow. You clear your throat and put your hand to your cheek, feeling the nervousness warm your skin.

"Hello, Mr. B-Barnes," you eke out.

"Bucky, it's fine," he sounds slightly irritated but you don't think you've heard a different tone from him so far, "you're busy?"

"Well, uh, n-not exactly," you shrug, "j-just family s-stuff."

"Family... so you won't be able to go over the script? I just got your edits."

"U-uh, y-yeah, if you want to, I c-can grab my l-laptop," you offer and turn your back to the room.

"I'd prefer it if we could meet. I'm more of a face-to-face person."

"O-old-fashioned," you comment. You regret that he exhales deeply on the other end. "S-sorry, I o-only meant--"

"You're right. I'm old-fashioned. Not a bad thing," he insists, "so, is it too late? Should we find another time?"

"T-tomorrow?"

"I'm going out of town for the weekend," he huffs, "I really want to have this ready to record when I get back."

"R-right," you chew your thumb, a sudden bawling tears through the air as you spin around and find your nephew stuck under the tree. Oh no! "Oh, sh-shoot."

You cover the microphone as you lower the phone. Your sister rushes in, your mother at her heels as they squeal. You watch helpless as she fishes Casey from under the fir branches, "you were supposed to be watching them," she accuses.

"I-I was?"

"Oh, come on, you know, I barely get a minute to myself and you can't just keep an eye on two kids? Ugh, no job and you can't be bothered just to look," she snarls.

They're not your kids. You flutter your lashes as you fight back tears and that smart remark.

"I actually h-have a c-call from m-my new job," you hold out your phone and wiggle it at her, "I d-don't b-babysit f-for free."

She scoffs and your mom tuts as she shakes her head. They don't even care. No congratulations but they can constantly throw your unemployment in your face. You take a breath and roll your eyes.

"S-sorry, I g-got to go," you turn and drag your feet out of the room.

"Well, she didn't say she had a job," your mother mutters as your sister grumbles back, "about time."

You ignore them as you head upstairs. It's better you let your sister bask in her spotlight. You weren't looking forward to dinner anyhow. Not for anything more than the hunger groaning in your stomach. You put the phone back to your ear.

"A-are you there? S-sorry, I g-got distracted."

"Really, if you're busy--"

"N-no, I n-need to get a-away," you say.

You're silent at the confession. You didn't mean to sound so pathetic. You go down the hall to your room and find a sweater.

"Well, uh, how about we meet at the cafe? Middle ground. You like that place?"

"Up t-to you," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

"You need a ride?" He asks, to your surprise.

You pause as you grip the bright pink wool in your hand, "N-no, I'll f-find my way." You swallow and lay the sweater on your bed, "uh, b-bye."

You hang up before he can respond. You're embarrassed. He probably heard all of that and more. And now you've gone and betrayed your stupid self to him. Of all people. He doesn't need to know you're a complete failure. You hate to accept it but you have to; you need him more than he needs you. So maybe you'll just change the damn thesis after all.

🩶

You get to the coffee shop with snow caked on your hat and in the collar of your coat. You shake it off just outside and enter, your cheeks and nose kissed with the cold. As much as you love the winter, it's a bit much. You let out a brrr as you pull of your mitts and tuck them inside your hat. You hear your name and glance over. It's him, he's beat you there.

You tramp over to him as the snow melts off your boots and you wave, setting your bag in the chair as you unbutton your coat.

"Didn't m-mean t-to take too l-long," you say.

"Hot chocolate shouldn't be that cold," he assures you. You wince and look at the table. Sure enough, there's a second cup.

"O-oh, you d-didn't have t-to--"

"It's fine, not a big deal," he shakes his head.

You nod and hang your coat over the back of the chair and tuck away your mittens and hat in the sleeve. You sit and bring your bag into your lap. You flip up the flap and pull out your laptop, chilly from the walk there. You sense him watching you. You leave your computer shut as you lay it out and reach for the hot chocolate. You give it a taste and hum, thanking him.

"Sounds like a rough day," he comments.

"Y-yeah, b-but you d-don't have to w-worry about it," you assure him, glancing around evasively. When is he going to start being mean?

"You got kids?" He asks.

You have to hold in your laughter. "Sister's k-kids," you explain, "n-not for m-me."

"Ah," he accepts and reaches for his coffee, "right. Makes sense."

You keep your eyes down. You don't want to get too personal. Feels like he's just being polite, likely because he feels bad for you, not about his previous behavior.

"Don't got any either," he leans forward, his thick fingers hugging his cup, "so, your new draft was... great."

"R-really?" You lift your gaze meekly.

"Yeah, yeah, I just have a few notes," he sits back to bend down to the bag at his feet, "thanks for coming so last minute.”

You open your laptop, trying not to show any emotion. It's kind of him but you just don't believe it's anything other than pity.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #drabbles #series #silver lining #silverfox #au #mcu #marvel #winter soldier #avengers

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dandylion240 · 5 months ago

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The following month was spent with Robert and Patricia screening prospective nannies. They provided Casey with the ones they felt would be the best candidates for the job. Lynn a young woman with a flair for the dramatics and a gift for music. Eleanor a graduate student from business law looking to pay off her student loans. The final candidate was Pamela who had a winning smile and happy disposition. Patricia liked her best feeling she would be a good fit for Casey and Eddie. Robert on the other hand had reservations about her sincerity. She was a little too smooth and nice, he had the impression she was hiding something.

Casey reviewed the candidate qualifications and read the comments that Robert included from their interviews. He decided that the only way he was going to be able to decide which nanny would be the best fit for him and Eddie was to give each of them a trial run. Each would have one week, living in his house so that he could observe how they interacted with his son and for him to see if he could tolerate them living in his house.

The first one was Pamela, she arrived Monday morning with a brilliant smile and ready laugh that sounded like music. Casey couldn’t help but be drawn to her upbeat personality. She had been there for four days and Casey thought about cancelling the other two candidates. He enjoyed coming home evenings to the sound of his son laughing as Pamela lavished Eddie with attention. Smiling Casey went to change clothes.

Upon entering his bedroom, Casey had the uneasy feeling that someone had been through his things. He couldn’t place his finger on why, nothing looked out-of-place, just a little rumpled. Opening his dresser drawer his normally meticulously folded clothes were wrinkled as if they had been moved and put back. He didn’t have much and what little he had was in the bank, except for his rainy day fund. He had been saving, setting a little aside from every paycheck for Eddie’s birthday. Kneeling he pulled out the bottom drawer, it too looked rumpled and out-of-place. Taking out the small tin, pulling off the lid. Empty! Just the other day he had over five hundred dollars in it.

“Pam we need to talk,” he said upon entering Eddies room.

Looking up Pamela smiled nodding, she picked up Eddie placing him in his playpen. She followed Casey out into the living room “what’s up?” she asked sweetly.

Grimly Casey held out the empty tin “did you take it?”

Staring at the tin then back at Casey she shook her head.

“Don’t lie to me,” Casey said through clenched teeth “I know someone’s been through my things. You’re the only person I know whose had the opportunity to do it.”

“It wasn’t me,” Pamela crossed her arms daring him to contradict her.

“If not you, then who did you let into my house?” Casey asked refusing to back down. “I’m not stupid so don’t treat me like I am.”

With a smirk she came up to him “no you’re just an easy mark. If I had wanted to, I could have emptied this entire house. Instead I took your measly five hundred dollars.”

“I want it back,” Casey insisted.

“You’re dreaming,” she replied.

Balling his hand into fists Casey knew he’d never see his money again. “You’re done,” Casey told her. “I want you out of my house tonight.”

“But …. but I don’t have anyplace to go,” she sputtered her beautiful blue eyes misting up.

“You should have thought of that before you stole from me,” Casey said unmoved by her tears.

“You can’t just throw me out,” she protested.

“Again how is that my problem,” he shot back at her.

“What about Eddie? Who’ll watch him if you send me packing,” she smiled thinking she had him over a barrel.

Wanting nothing more than to wipe that irritating smile from her face he pulled his phone out. “Hey Rob, how’s it going?…. Good ….. Hey I need a favor. The nanny isn’t working out and I’m in need of a babysitter for the rest of the week ….. That’s great, thank you …. The next nanny starts on Monday … I’ll talk to you later …. ok good night.”

Smiling back at her “as you probably already heard Eddie’s taken care of. Now get out!”

Early Monday morning the new nanny arrived, smiling at Casey as he opened the door. “Hi I’m Eleanor,” she held out her hand.

Taking her hand Casey liked what he saw so far “come in Ms….”

“Just call me Eleanor,” she suggested walking past him.

“Ok,” Casey agreed a little put off by her informal ways. Frowning as he watched her inspect the room she was in. Not one word or question about his son had Casey wondering why she was there.

Completing her circuit around the room she pointed towards the easel “do you paint?”

Shrugging Casey said “yes” to her question.

“Oh these are lovely,” she said looking at the many paintings spread throughout the room. “Did you paint them?”

“Yes,” Casey crossed his arms as his irritation grew at her many questions. “Aren’t you the tiniest bit interested in knowing anything about my son? You know the one you’ll be watching.”

“Oh we have all day to get to know each other,” waving his question away. “You’re really good, have you thought about getting a manager and setting up an exhibit?”

“No,” Casey shook he head “look you’re here to care for my son, not to be my manager. Don’t you think you should be asking me relevant questions about Eddie’s care instead of my artwork?”

“What else do I need to know? I’ve read his file, he doesn’t have allergies, disabilities or illnesses. He’s a kid, what else is there to know?”

“Spoken like someone who doesn’t have kids,” Casey mumbled. Glancing at his watch “damn I’m going to be late.” Looking at Eleanor he wasn’t sure he wanted to leave his son in her care.

Smiling sweetly at him “go don’t worry about Edwin, he’ll be just fine.”

Letting himself be pushed out his own door, Casey stood outside rubbing his neck. Sighing he went to the car and pulled out his phone “Rob would you mind checking on Eddie throughout the day? …. No I don’t like the new nanny …. She’s more concerned about my lack of a manager then Eddie’s welfare …. She didn’t even know his name, called him Edwin …. Thanks Rob I owe you one.”

Coming home that night, it was unusually quiet. He’d gotten so used to coming home and hearing his son’s laughter that worry creased his forehead as unpleasant memories of the past came to mind. Eleanor jumped up from the couch as he entered the room.

“Oh good you’re home,” she clapped her hands “I’ve made a few inquiries …”

“Where’s Eddie?” Casey asked cutting her off.

“Taking a nap,” she said “now as I was saying…..”

“He shouldn’t be sleeping now,” Casey walked into his son’s room. “He’ll never sleep tonight.” Turning on the light, Eddie popped up from his crib “daddy home.” He lifted his little arms up to Casey.

Cuddling his son Casey felt the unmistakable dampness in his son’s diaper.

“How long has he been in this wet diaper?”

“How should I know when he wet himself?” Eleanor shrugged. “He wasn’t wet when I put him down.”

“and when was that?” Casey asked feeling his anger rise as he changed his son’s diaper observing the unmistakable evidence of a rash beginning from a dirty diaper that had been on too long.

Shrugging “I don’t know maybe an hour or two. I was busy and he was fussy so I put him down for a nap.” Making a face as the smell from the soiled diaper reached her nose, “besides I was working for your best interests in setting up an art exhibit at the gallery. I know what I’m doing, that is what I went to school for ….”

“I don’t need an exhibit or manager,” Casey said snuggling Eddie to him. “What I need is a good nanny to take care of the best interests of my son.”

“You’ve got it all wrong. You’re an amazing artist, you just need the right person to be your manager. I can be …..”

“You don’t get it do you?” Casey said his tone low and steady, his anger bubbling under the surface. “What if I don’t want to be famous?”

“Of course you do, everybody does,” she looked at him like he had grown a second head.

Scowling at her “I already have notoriety, I don’t want or need to be famous. I like what I do. I enjoy being an art critic. Painting is my hobby not my life.”

“But it could be so much more,” she said enthusiastically only hearing what she wanted to hear. Her eyes sparkling as she continued to try to persuade him to her way of thinking “Just one exhibit that’s all I ask and you’ll see how good you really are.”

“Weren’t you listening?” Casey asked his voice harsher than he expected. Eddie looked up at him in surprise beginning to whimper “Shhh it’s ok little man, Daddy’s not upset with you,” he comforted his son hugging him close.

“I don’t understand,” she said voice quivering on the verge of crying. “I only wanted to help.”

“You could have helped by doing your job and taking care of my son,” Casey sighed “look I’ll do the exhibit but this,” waving his hand “isn’t going to work. I need someone I can rely on to look after my son. I need someone I’m confident will have his best interests first not have their own agenda. I’m sorry.”

“I could stay until the end of the week,” she offered “I promise this won’t happen again.”

“I appreciate the offer but no I’ll make other arrangements.” Casey watched as she walked dejected into her room to pack.

Tossing Eddie into the air he wondered if he’d ever find the right nanny to watch his son. “Two down one to go,” he said out loud “What do you think little man, will the next nanny be a keeper?” Eddie giggled nodding his head “I hope you’re right.”

The last Nanny was due to arrive any minute and Casey could feel his anxiety sky rocketing. Would this one be the right fit for him and Eddie? He reviewed the comments Robert had written down for him. He noticed that this one was Robert’s first choice. Maybe he should have started with her instead of wasting his time with the other two.

A soft knock on the door jolted him out of his thoughts as he went to answer it. A young woman with bright red hair stood in front of him. Looking up she smiled holding out her hand “Hi I’m Lynn Matthews and you must be Mr. Bennett.”

He smiled as he took her hand, noting she was friendly and confident. “Please come in Ms. Matthews,” he stood aside to let her pass, closing the door behind them.

Turning Lynn smiled again “you mentioned in your son’s profile that he doesn’t have any allergies but I was wondering if there are any foods he doesn’t like. You know like beets, I hate beets and won’t eat them, no matter how they’re disguised.”

Chuckling a little “my son’s not a picky eater but thank you for asking.” Casey found himself drawn to this young woman and her obvious interest in getting to know his son by asking thought out questions.

“I love children and I helped my mom run a daycare in our basement when I was growing up.” She glanced around the room and Casey braced himself for the next question to be about his artwork. “You have a lovely home Mr. Bennett. Do you mind if we sit?”

Surprised that she hadn’t mentioned his artwork and a little embarrassed that he hadn’t invited her to sit, he motioned towards the sitting area “please sit make yourself at home.”

“Thank you,” she said after settling done on the couch and waiting for Casey to sit. “You mentioned that your son doesn’t have any illnesses but if he were to become ill and I have to take him to the doctor, are there any medications he’s allergic to?”

“None that I’m aware of,” Casey replied. They spent the next several minutes discussing Eddie and what he expected from her as his nanny. “Basically Ms. Matthews I want someone who will take an interest in my son and give him the attention he needs while I’m gone. At night, when I’m home I expect to care for my son myself and you are free to pursue whatever interests you have. I understand you’re into music?”

“Yes, eventually I hope to make a name for myself in the music business.”

“I hope you reach your goal,” Casey told her getting up from the chair. “I’m sorry I have to be leaving for work now. Do you have any other questions before I go?”

Smiling as she stood “yes does your son prefer being called Edward or Eddie?”

Shrugging Casey laughed “I don’t know if he has a preference yet. He answers to both.” After walking towards the door he added “just don’t call him Edwin.”

“Why would I do that?” She laughed confused.

Shaking his head Casey sighed “the last nanny kept calling him Edwin and didn’t seem to notice there was a difference.”

Laughing harder Lynn snorted “I bet I know who that was, Eleanor right? She probably was more interested in you and managing your artwork than in watching Eddie.”

“Do you know her?” Casey asked.

“You could say that,” Lynn smiled at him “she was my room-mate. When she found out I was a musician she offered to be my manager. When I refused she took offense and moved out.”

Chuckling a little Casey said “I could see her doing that.” Glancing at his watch he knew he had to leave or he’d be late for the third Monday in a row. He enjoyed talking with Lynn and how she was able to be herself. How many girls would snort while laughing? In a way he found it endearing and totally not what he would have found attractive a couple of years ago while he was in college. He had a tendency to go for the more sophisticated ladies but his luck with that left him with a son and an ex-fiance. Shaking his head he was about to close the door when Lynn’s voice stopped him.

“Mr. Bennett?” Lynn called “how do I reach you if something comes up and I have to reach you?”

Coming back inside he wrote his contact information down for her than ran out of the house. He arrived at his desk without a minute to spare but at least he wasn’t late. Sitting down he realized that this was the first time he’d come to work without the familiar worry of leaving his son. He was confident that Eddie was in good hands.

A weight was lifted from his shoulders and he sighed in relief. He got through work with a bounce in his step and a smile on his face and a mind preoccupied with a pair of pretty green eyes. Shaking his head he tried to concentrate on appraising the artwork in front of him and not on his son’s new nanny. A smile crept across his face as his mind once again drifted off.

Coming into the house he heard the unmistakable sound of his son giggling in his room. Walking to his son’s door he watched as Lynn tickled his son sending Eddie into fits of giggles. Eddie looked up and squealed “Daddy’s home.” He lifted his little arms out towards him. Lynn seeing Casey standing in the doorway walked over to him.

Taking Eddie from her, Casey snuggled him close. “So how was your day?”

“Lynn fun. She play with me,” Eddie said with a brilliant smile on his face. “Like Lynn.”

“Do you think she should stay?” Casey asked him. Nodding his head enthusiastically Eddie squealed in delight as Casey tossed him in the air. It felt good to come home from a long day at work and be able to enjoy time with his son.

After feeding Eddie his supper and settling him in his playpen Casey joined Lynn in the living room. Lynn was softly playing a guitar, the melody soft and soothing. Something Casey hadn’t heard before, tearing his eyes away, Casey went to his easel and began to paint. Inspired by the music he was listening to and the easing of the anxiety he had been carrying around with him. He had no awareness of the passage of time until Lynn asked from behind him “would you like something to eat?”

Shaking his head he tried to bring his mind back to the present but all he could do was stare dumbly at her. “I’m sorry what did you say?” he managed.

Laughing softly “I’m not much of a cook but I made a salad. There’s enough if you’d like some.”

“Um thank you,” Casey said as he began the tedious task of cleaning his brushes and putting his paints away so they wouldn’t dry out. Sitting down Casey asked “that song you were playing earlier, did you write it?”

Nodding Lynn looked down at her plate “I wrote it after my mom passed away.”

“I’m sorry,” Casey mumbled. “I didn’t know.”

“It’s ok,” Lynn told him. “She always encouraged me to go after my dreams. Without her support I doubt I would be here today.”

“Sounds like an interesting story,” Casey said smiling to encourage her to continue talking.

“Not when it’s your story. You see when I was younger I went through a rebellious period in my teens. I felt like I was going to self destruct. You know drinking and wild parties, stuff like that. I put my parents through hell but I eventually turned my life around.”

Listening Casey couldn’t help but think of his younger brother, Gene. Maybe he should have been a little more supportive instead of brushing him off, thinking his dreams were foolish. Tuning back into Lynn’s voice he heard her say.

“When my mom got sick I told her about my dream of being a musician. I remember telling her I wasn’t sure if I was strong enough to resist the temptations of the lifestyle. That maybe I should just listen to all the doubters and give up before I even tried.” Looking up with tears in her green eyes she asked “do you know what she told me?”

Shaking his Casey wished there was something he could say to comfort her.

“She told me to never quit just because it’d be easier than facing my fears.” She smiled wiping tears from her eyes. “She told me I was stronger than I gave myself credit for.”

Reaching across the table Casey took her hand in his “your mother was right.” Squeezing her hand, Casey promised himself that he would be more understanding and supportive of Gene in the future. He wondered if it was too late to tune into Sim Idol and see how Gene was faring on the show.

Previous/Next

#casey bennett #robert bennett #patricia bennett #eddie bennett #lynn matthews #ts3 #not so quiet life #simblr #sims story

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illdowhatiwantthanks · 1 year ago

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Home for the Holidays

Casey Novak x autistic fem!reader Warnings: some explicit language, mentions of sex, mostly just fluff on fluff on fluff Prompt(s): From novelbear, thank you! 😊 Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: You bring Casey home to meet your parents and siblings. Adorableness ensues.

Casey's leg bounced up and down as she stared out the passenger window of the rental car. You were only a half hour away from the Nashville airport, and already the crowded city streets had given way to fields, barns, and the occasional herd of cattle on a hillside. Bluegrass played softly through the speakers. You sighed contentedly, knowing just when to turn, just when to slow around a curve, just when to watch for deer crossing the road. You were almost home. Casey let out a shaky breath and you took her hand, pulling it to your lips for a quick kiss before lacing your fingers through hers. "Casey," you sang, trying to get her out of her head. She didn't answer.

"Honey, you're gonna be fine."

"God, I hope they like me," she muttered, her breath fogging up the car window.

"Of course they'll like you. What's not to like?"

"Oh, I don't know," Casey replied sarcastically, throwing up her hands. "I'm a lawyer. I'm blunt as shit. I probably swear too much. And I'm fucking their little girl."

"Okay, first of all, I'm not little. I'm almost thirty. So that'd be a dumb thing for them to care about." Casey said nothing. "Secondly, you're the only person I've ever brought home. If anyone's gonna be scared, it's them! They don't want to scare you off. Chances are not good that I'd ever bring someone home again." Casey bit at her fingernails. You batted them away from her mouth. "Quit with that, you just got them done."

"I'm just saying it's a lot of pressure!" she said, pulling at the strings of her hoodie.

"This is a lot of pressure!?" You laughed. "You made me meet your parents two months in! And you gave me one day's notice!"

"Yeah, but they live in the city, so it wasn't a big deal. I see them all the time. And it wasn't Christmas."

"Oh, don't even start. You were so butthurt when I went home for Thanksgiving without you."

You pulled down your street, houses twinkling with holiday lights, and waved at a neighbor walking a dog.

"Who's that?" Casey asked.

"I don't know."

"You just wave at people you don't know?!"

"Here? Yes. In New York? No."

You pulled to a stop in your family's driveway and grinned at their decorations–a giant pride flag, made entirely of Christmas lights.

"Wow," Casey said, gawking at the display.

"What can I say? They're aggressive allies."

You sat silently in the car for a moment, then took Casey's hand. "You ready?"

You nearly leapt out of your seats as two hands slammed on the driver's side door.

"Y/N!!! Come on, come on, come on!"

You smiled big, eyes sparkling, stimming quickly at your ears and shaking your head. It was your baby brother, Eli. Not such a baby anymore–16 years old. You threw open the car door and he barreled into you, squeezing his arms around your neck as tightly as he could.

"Who's here?!" he said, bouncing up and down with his hand on your shoulders. "Y/N's here!!!"

Casey watched you from a distance. You'd told her all about your youngest siblings–the twins. That they were, quite literally, one in millions. Fraternal twins, both born with Down syndrome. Casey knew, from you, that Eli loved Mario Kart and Les Misérables and called once a week to sing "One Day More" with you. She knew Winnie was a hotshot in the local Special Olympics basketball league (even at 4' 10"), a budding artist, and "kind of a bitch right now," as you'd told her on the way over.

"Can you say that about someone with Down syndrome?" Casey had asked.

You'd scoffed. "People with disabilities can be bitches just as much as anyone else."

Now, as she watched you with your brother, she got it. She got it when you said that they were your favorite people in the world which, until now, had made her ridiculously jealous. She got it when you said that you would give up everything to take care of them when your parents weren't able to anymore. Your face was alight with so much joy, so much connection. Connection that Casey knew you didn't get many other places, aside from her. And she knew then that she'd give up everything for you to have that, even if it meant moving to help you take care of your siblings when the time came.

When you and Eli finally separated, he turned his attention to Casey.

"Hi, Eli!" she said, bending down to be a bit closer to his height. "I'm Casey."

Unlike Winnie, who could talk the ear off a donkey, Eli was mostly non-verbal. He had autism, too, like you, and for this reason, you'd always felt a deeper connection to him. You knew you weren't supposed to have favorite siblings, but Eli was yours. So when he decided to use his limited words to talk with Casey, it was a big deal.

He looked first at Casey, then at you, and asked, "Girlfriend?"

You nodded, beaming. "Yep! Yeah, Casey's my girlfriend."

He stepped closer looking Casey over. After a moment, he seemed to decide that he liked her.

"Casey, big squeeze," he said, and wrapped his arms around her waist. Eli pronounced her name "kissy." You thought your heart might explode. She patted his back and looked to you for a translation.

"Big squeeze means he wants you to hug him as tight as you can. Like, really tight, to the point that you're afraid you might hurt him." She obliged and he laughed in her grip. When she let him go, he patted her on the back and jogged inside.

"It helps with, uh, autism stuff. The deep pressure," you explained.

"Does it help you, too?" Casey asked as you took your luggage out of the trunk.

"What?"

"The big squeeze. Do you like those, too?"

You smiled at her, quick and bright. "Yeah. Yeah, I really do."

"Come here." She pulled you into her and squeezed as hard as she could, using every muscle in her body to put pressure on you, flexing so hard you could feel her shaking. Your body, on the other hand, felt light as a feather, as if all the stress, all the tension in it was seeping out. When she let you go, you sighed happily, your body tingly. You felt almost high.

"Yeah, we're gonna do a lot more of that," Casey decided, observing how much you'd relaxed.

Tennessee wasn't cold, not like New York, but the warmth from inside hit you hard anyway. "Come on," Eli urged, impatiently motioning you toward the living room, where you knew your parents would be sitting. You helped Casey out of her coat, then took off yours, hanging them by the door.

"Mom, Dad!" Eli yelled. "Who's here!?"

Your parents walked into the kitchen, absolutely beaming at you. They'd never say it, but they'd given up on you dating. You just hadn't been interested. They'd gotten used to the idea that you could be happy without a relationship, after years of you sending them articles about asexuality. But you could tell they were happy to see you in love.

"Hey, y'all," your mom said, wrapping Casey in a huge hug that took her off guard.

You smiled as your dad did the same to you, kissing the top of your head. "Hey, sweet pea," he whispered. "Glad you're home."

Casey cleared her throat and reached out to shake your dad's hand. His biker-style beard and imposing height always made him seem scarier than he really was. "Mr. Y/L/N, it's very nice to meet y–" Once again, she was cut off by a bear hug.

"Welcome," your dad said, nearly smothering her. "We're so glad you're here."

"Where's Winnie?" you asked, looking around.

"Upstairs on her iPad." Your mom rolled her eyes. "Want me to get her?"

"Nah. She'll figure out I'm here eventually."

You all made your way to the living room, where Eli promptly got on his own iPad, put his headphones on, and proceeded to perform a series of silent, choreographed dances in front of the Christmas tree. Casey watched him, amused and delighted that neither you nor your parents seemed to find this out of the ordinary at all.

"How was your trip?" your dad asked, lowering himself into a seat next to your mom.

"Good," you said, taking Casey's hand in yours when you noticed she was picking at her fingernails again. "The airport wasn't even too bad."

"I bet it'll be a shit show tomorrow..." your dad mused, thinking about Christmas Eve flights of years past.

"So, Casey," your mom started, clearly eager to get to know the only person who'd ever managed to turn your head. "Tell us about yourself. Y/N says you're a lawyer?"

"That's right." You squeezed Casey's hand as she spoke. "I'm an Assistant District Attorney at the Manhattan DA's office. I prosecute cases for the Special Victims Unit."

"Special Victims?" your dad asked. "Like victims of assault?"

She glanced at your brother who shimmied in the background. "Uh..."

"He can't hear," you told her.

"Yes. Assault, rape, sexually-motivated homicide, child abuse, things like that."

"That's gotta be such a hard job," your mom empathized.

"It's admirable work." Your dad nodded approvingly at Casey, and she seemed to relax a bit. "Those pieces of garbage deserve to rot in hell. But jail's a start."

You rolled your eyes. Your dad was a passionate man, with a tendency to turn more aggressively passionate at any mention or hint of violence toward women and children. Come to think of it, Casey reminded you of him in that way.

"I couldn't agree more," Casey told him.

"You met playing softball?" your mom asked, clearly trying to redirect the conversation.

Casey's face brightened. "We did!" She wrapped an arm around your shoulder and you leaned into her, blushing a little. Your parents shared a glance; they had never seen you this close to anyone. "We're on the same rec team. Y/N's the catcher and I pitch."

"Still got that catcher's gear?" your dad joked, winking at you.

You shot him a glare. "I know I'm not that much taller than I was when I was twelve but, no, Dad, the gear from my middle school team doesn't fit anymore."

"Ooh!" he exclaimed, sitting up and pointing at Casey. "Has Y/N ever told you about her softball nickname?"

"No, she hasn't," Casey said, smirking at you.

"I coached her team when she was little. She played catcher, of course." Your dad leaned forward, as if he and Casey were in on a delightful secret together.

"But she would jump forward to grab the ball," he continued. "Which was obviously a terrible idea because–"

"She's gonna get hit," Casey finished, nodding.

"Exactly. She was really good, but she always jumped out and we kept telling her, 'You can't be pouncing like a tiger, you're gonna get hurt.' And one day, sure enough, she leaned forward and bam! She was laid out. Thank god she had the helmet on, or it probably would've cracked her skull."

Casey laughed, but placed a hand absentmindedly on the side of your head, as if checking to make sure you really were okay, all these years later.

"After that," your dad chuckled. "Word got around with other parents and the girls on the team, and they started calling her El Tigre. For the rest of her softball career–El Tigre!"

Your cheeks were burning as Casey and your parents laughed together, but your heart was warm, too.

"Okay, okay," you said, "I'm gonna go say hey to Winnie." You looked at Casey. "You want to come?"

"Sure!" she said, standing next to you and placing a hand on the small of your back as you moved toward the stairs. You looked back at your parents to see them watching you intently, holding hands, nearly bursting with happiness. They liked her. You could already tell.

As you emerged upstairs, you gently grabbed Casey's waist and pressed her lightly against the wall.

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "I thought we were going to see your sister."

"We are," you said, standing on your tiptoes to kiss her softly. You felt her body melt into yours, the stress of the day dissipating. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay first."

Casey sighed contentedly and brushed your hair behind your ears. "I'm good. They're really nice people, your family. They really love you."

"Yeah, well," you scoffed. "Wait until you meet this one."

You knocked on Winnie's door and threw it open when she called, "What!?"

Winnie sat at her desk in all her diminutive glory, Special Olympics medals hanging from a cork board and Usher's "Yeah!" blaring from the speakers.

"'Sup, nerd," you said, standing in the doorway.

Winnie gaped, looking from you to Casey.

"What are you doing here, Y/N?" she finally said.

"Uh, it's Christmas?" you responded.

Winnie pointed at Casey. "Who are you?"

You could tell that Casey was holding back laughter. "I'm Casey."

"You're Y/N's friend?" Winnie asked, leaning back and swiveling in her desk chair.

"No, I'm not her friend. I'm her girlfriend," Casey said as the two of you took a seat on the edge of Winnie's bed.

Winnie seemed to think very deeply about this. "Her girlfriend?"

You both nodded.

"Like, when you have a crush?"

You blushed.

"Yep," Casey nodded, patting your leg. "I have a big crush on Y/N."

Casey shot you a cheesy grin. She was loving this.

Winnie smirked and waggled her eyebrows. "Do you kiss!?"

"Oh my god," you groaned, rubbing your forehead.

Casey on the other hand, seemed to be living for this conversation.

"Oh, absolutely," Casey told her. "I do kiss Y/N. I love to kiss her."

Winnie scoffed and turned back to her desk, fiddling with her iPad.

"What about you, Winnie?" Casey continued, crossing her legs and getting comfortable. It blew your mind that Casey seemed to be getting along with Winnie so well. Or maybe Casey just liked pushing people's buttons. God knows, Winnie was nothing but buttons to push these days. "Do you have a girlfriend? Or a boyfriend?"

The look of absolute condescension on Winnie's smug face finally drove Casey to the edge. She burst out laughing. "Why are you looking at me like that!?"

"I don't have time for that," Winnie said. "I have to work out." She pulled up her sleeve and flexed her bicep.

"Damn!" Casey exclaimed, standing up to squeeze Winnie's arm. "You are strong!"

Winnie pulled her sleeve back down. "Yeah, I know."

"I hear you're really good at basketball," Casey said conspiratorially, squatting down next to Winnie's desk. "I'm more of a baseball girl myself, but you wanna play tomorrow?"

"Yeah!" Winnie exclaimed, genuinely excited before she remembered she was too cool for us. "But I'll win."

Casey raised her eyebrows. "That's some big talk."

Winnie shrugged. "I can't help it that I'm the best."

"You got me there."

You gestured to Casey and she followed you to the door.

"Y/N can't play, though," Winnie added, glancing back at Casey.

"Aw, why not?" Casey protested. "I love playing with Y/N."

Winnie shook her head. "She is really bad."

"Ouch, Winnie," you said, glaring at her.

Casey cracked up again, and you elbowed her in the stomach.

"Good night, loser," you called as you shut Winnie's door.

"Good night, dork!" she yelled back.

Casey had tears in her eyes from laughing so hard.

"See?" you whispered to her. "I told you. A little bitch."

Casey grabbed your face in her hands and pressed her forehead to yours. She kissed you quickly, then laughed, a wide grin on her face.

"What's this for?" you asked, as if you needed a reason.

"Oh, it's nothing," Casey said, serious, before giggling, "I just have such a big crush on you."

"Ugh, stop!" You pushed her away. "That's so dumb."

"It's cute!" she protested, and you didn't know if you'd ever seen her this giddy. She came up behind you and wrapped her arms around your waist, pressing her face into your neck. "Come on, you say it, too."

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. "I have a massive, huge, heartstopping crush on you, Casey."

She buried her face into you, planting kisses up and down your neck as her fingers tickled your stomach. You squirmed and giggled and shushed her as you both headed back downstairs. You didn't want to seem too in love. Your parents would never let it go.

#casey novak #casey novak x reader #casey novak drabble #casey novak one shot #casey novak fluff #law and order svu #svu #autistic #neurodivergent #casey novak x autistic reader #x autistic reader

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