#Excuse any inaccuracies to actual Coney Island

[welldonebeca]

it's a Bad Idea, right? (14)

WC: 1.1k words Warnings: Mafia AU. Secret identity au. Fluff. Flirting. Teasing. A/N: I’ve never been to Coney Island, so excuse any inaccuracies to the experience.

Masterlist

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The goal of going into the bumper cars was to have the most fun while driving around and bumping against other people, so that was why Betty spent her whole ride either chasing after Steffan to bump into him, or running off so he wouldn't bump into her - and failed. 

It was really fun, and not as shaky so he wouldn’t be sick from all the moving.

“Your little menace,” he grabbed her the moment they were out, tickling her sides. “How do we ever let you out in the streets of New York?”

Betty giggled, squirming away from his hands, and grabbing them.

“The DMV won’t let me drive here,” she laughed, raising his hands so he wouldn’t tickle her before stepping up to him, putting his arms over her shoulder. “I’m a passenger princess.”

He grinned, looking at her with the most charming of smiles.

"You can be my passenger princess," he declared, planting a sweet kiss on her lips. "I'll drive you around."

She giggled, kissing him back. In New York? Now that was a big promise.

He guided her through the park, not into the big arcade – which was full of kids – but to a different spot, with some basketballs.

“What do you want as a prize?” he pulled her a little closer.

Betty giggled, putting her arms around his torso.

Well…

“Is it meant to be something you can give me here?” she whispered. “Or will I get something actually special?”

There was a little prize that had been dangling in front of them for a while, wasn’t there?

Oh, his cheeks were completely pink, and Steffan opened and closed his mouth.

“We can negotiate enough that we can have both,” he suggested.

She smiled, and looked back at the basketball game.

“Winner picks,” she suggested.

They both lined up together, taking shots and they sucked. Both of them.

Apparently, sewing, designing clothes and waiting tables weren’t good training for the Coney Island version of the NBA. The balls Betty threw missed the hoops every single time, and the more she tried to fix it, the worse it became.

The good part was, though, that Steffan was just as bad.

She had to dodge a ball that had hit the board and almost hit her, and if it wasn’t for him intercepting it.

When the game was over, no one had won anything, but it felt even better.

She was laughing aloud at their combined attempts and the lack of any prizes when he tossed his last ball and then resigned.

“Nothing,” he looked at her, grinning. “We are so bad at this.”

She nodded in agreement, still giggling, and willingly allowed herself to be drawn into his arms.

“We are not meant for the NBA,” Steffan giggled. “I guess no one wins.”

Betty guided him out of the way, knowing better than to block the line.

"Let's eat," she suggested.

Her aunt always used to say empty sacks can't stand on their own. She picked her up from a Portuguese boyfriend or something.

Steffan was the one to guide them both through the crowds and rides and to the food spots, and stopped right in front of Nathan's.

"Oh, this one I've heard off," she looked at him. "They've been here for ages."

Something, something 20th century, no?

Betty wasn't the hot dog type, but they certainly had something nice and filling.

He was the one to order – a double hot dog for himself, and some chicken tenders for her – and Betty found a nice place to sit down under a good shadow, overseeing the beach.

It was really pretty, a really nice sight.

Not that she would ever swim there, Betty had enough years in New York to not touch any of their bodies of water.

When Steffan came back, he looked a bit puzzled as he placed her chicken tenders down in the cool blue can.

“Pepsi?” he asked, looking a bit surprised.

Betty frowned. Wait, he liked American Coke?

“You’ve ever compared them?” she pointed at his can of Coke. “Coke here and back home?”

Steffan raised his eyebrows, looking a bit uncertain, and she was shocked for a moment. Really?

“Coke is… refreshing back home,” she tried to argue. “It’s not too chemical. It is still bad for you, but it hides that way better. Here it just tastes like chemicals.”

He shrugged a little bit.

“I’ve never had coke back home,” he told her. “It’s not a big habit. I think I picked it up when I was living here already.”

Betty cracked her can open.

Now it made sense.

“Someone said it was made with corn syrup,” she told him, pouring some onto her cup, and reached to do the same with his drink, not even thinking about it.

When she looked at him, Steffan was looking at her with an amused smile.

“Waiting tables on your off time?” he teased.

Betty chuckled, setting his can down.

“Sorry, I’m a creature of habits,” she giggled, moving back to her own food.

He just smirked, and she continued munching on her chicken tenders while he examined his hot dogs.

“Everything alright?” she asked.

Steffan pouted a little bit.

“Not what I thought I’d be eating today,” he mumbled, biting into it.

Betty looked right at him. Oh?

“We could have gone somewhere else,” she looked back.

There were more food places on the other side of the park!

But when she turned back to look at him, he was looking right at her.

“I don’t think they serve it here,” he noted, his eyes with a pretty mischievous glint. “It’s not very… proper.”

Betty frowned, confused, Her eyes widened when a thought crossed her mind. No. He couldn't be talking about...

“Proper?” she pressed, holding a breath of anticipation.

Her date smirked.

“Can’t say it aloud, Betty,” he pointed out. “We are in a public park.”

Her face went hot right away in response.

The whole time they were in the park, she had been making him blush.

Was this payback?

“So you...” she started, and cleared her throat. “Like to… Hm.”

She couldn’t say it aloud!

Steffan chuckled softly and fixed his gaze on her.

"Let me put this into full words," he said, looking directly into her eyes. "You have a whole meal in yourself, Betty. One I'd be happy to devour."

She let out a stupid little squeak, and her legs weakened right away.

Her eyes looked right down to her food.

Oh well.

Really good to know.

Betty cleared her throat.

Now her food didn’t look like it was good enough for her to focus on it.

“We could go home,” she offered. “And you could eat.”

Steffan smirked, pushing his plate away.

They stood up together, and she grabbed his hand right away.

“Guide the way.”

…

“it’s a Bad Idea, right?” was posted on my Patreon in September 2023. To have early access to it (and lots of other stories), consider subscribe to my page! It’s just $2 a month, and I know you won’t regret it!

…

Bad Idea: @peaceloveancolor

[bumblebear30]

The heights you take me to.

Rita Calhoun x Casey Novak

Established Calvak

Warnings: Discussion of fears around heights, No smut but allusions to. Language. Casey Novak being so fucking adorable she’ll steal your girl and you’d still thank her.

The heights you take me to.

Not that anyone ever did ask, but if anyone had ever been brazen enough to raise the issue, Rita would categorically deny that she was scared of heights.

And she would win that argument. Even a polygraph test on the subject would be passed with flying colours. She was entirely content on those shallow balconies at the opera, mezzanine floors in apartments in Paris posed no hindrance and, thankfully, even the thought of flying in planes didn’t bother her. So truly heights weren’t the issue.

If you were going to get technical about it, maybe, possibly, perhaps, she had a mild concern – an often valid mild-concern – about falling from unstable platforms. Honestly it just seemed common sense to avoid such scenarios. An intrinsic urge of self-protection that had served her well through life so far. So much so, the issue very rarely came up at all.

And yet, somehow Casey, so typically enthusiastic, utterly wonderfully childlike in her glee and adoration of things somehow put Rita in a situation where she had to confront that maybe she should have voiced her concerns much earlier in their relationship.

It had all come about because Casey had won their most recent head-to-head case and they'd long since set up and agreement that after a case where they been up against each other whoever won got to choose whatever date it was that they went on as soon as they could.

Sometimes it was as mundane as choosing which wine and takeaway combo would go with whatever mindless TV or comfort film they'd watch as they settled back into their domestic selves, or something like Casey making Rita join her on a walk around the park when the seasons were changing so she could point out the beauty of the leaves changing colour or the blossom scattering the footpath. She was always such a romantic; as much in love with the natural world around her as with the woman stood next to her holding her hand. Despite her apparent grumbling Rita actually loved those walks, just getting to have a glimpse of how Casey saw things always made her fall for the redhead even more.

Other times, if she'd won, Rita would go all out spoiling Casey with a quick weekend away, or lavish meal out – not to gloat, never to gloat - but to simply spoil her girl as she deserved to be spoilt.

One time Casey had made Rita go camping... Despite the defence attorney trying her best to cope with it all after several tantrums Casey learnt quickly that camp life did not hold the same joyful relaxation for the brunette as she’d hoped, and had hastily found them a glamping resort nearby to save the long weekend.

But, given the nature of some of the cases, and just how passionately Rita would defend her client and Casey would fight for justice for the victim, sometimes there simply had to be a cooling off phase of a couple of days before either one was quite ready to think about indulging the whims of the winning party.

The longest they'd gone through such a détente had been ten days. It had just clocked over to the eleventh when Rita had woken to the sounds of Casey sniffling, trying to muffle her tears on the couch where she'd been sleeping, self-imposed it had to be said. Wordlessly Rita had left the warmth of their bed and padded across the apartment simply to cuddle up with the redhead: wrapping her arms around her and cradling her head into the crook of her neck. The unspoken love and comfort in the gentle touches, the light peppering of kisses against her hair, had initially just made Casey sob even harder. It was exactly what she'd needed ten days ago but her own smarting pride and anger at the world's injustices had meant she denied herself from seeking out from the one person who could truly console her. Rita had continued to just hold her though and rub her back, letting Casey get it all out without judgement.

Exhausted Casey had eventually fallen asleep, utterly spent after finally letting the emotional dam burst. With great care Rita had slowly manoeuvred them (an impressive feat she was quite proud of really) so that she could lie down on the couch properly with Casey draped comatose over her hip, her face pillowed on Rita's chest. She knew she'd inevitably end up with a drool mark on her satin sleep shirt but making sure Casey was comfortable was far more important - and for the first time in weeks, fell asleep holding her love.

Waking up being held so tenderly by Rita, who had spent the night on the couch with her simply because Casey had needed her, almost made Casey cry again. Although this time because her heart was so full. She'd laid there for a little while completely content to just listen to Rita's soft snores (she only ever did when she slept on her back, Casey always thought they were adorable), until she could resist no longer and started to trail her hand across the top of Rita's shoulder and down her arm a little.

So absorbed in the sensation of the satin under her fingertips, and the incomparable softness of Rita's skin where it had slipped more open on her chest, Casey hadn't realised the gentle snores had stopped till she felt an answering hand come up to run across the back of her head gently. Looking up she had been greeted with such a soft sleepy smile from her girlfriend that Casey just wanted to remember it forever.

The woman was just so perfect for her. Rita would of course argue with a smirk across her face that she was perfect, full stop, but Casey always simply pointed out that she loved Rita’s imperfections just as much anyway. It usually earned her a sweet kiss, or three. But that morning it was Casey who poured as much love and gratefulness into the kisses she pressed to Rita’s cheek before offering to cook one of Rita’s beloved egg-white omelettes.

At this precise moment in time though Rita wished with every fibre of her being that she was back in their apartment, safely sat on the couch which was so securely resting on the ground.

Casey had won their most recent professional battle – Rita was secretly relieved, the guy creeped her out too – and the redhead had promptly declared that she wanted to go to Coney Island. Initially Rita thought she was joking, and had laughed in her face. She thought it went without saying that fair ground rides, fried foods and screaming children were not her idea of a fun evening with her girlfriend. But upon seeing the puppy dog worthy pout that was now gracing said girlfriend’s face she had immediately relented, although only once securing a promise that she could wear Casey’s clothes. She’d be damned if her designer wardrobe was going to be sacrificed along with her professional court win-rate. Chanel and cotton candy did not mix.

So, a few days later she’d subsequently found herself dressed in Casey’s jeans and old softball team hoody. When she’d left the bedroom and when Casey had caught sight of how her ass filled out the jeans let alone seeing Rita with ‘NOVAK’ emblazoned across her shoulders? She was reduced to an absolute puddle of adoration and affection.

Rita had recognised the gleam in her redhead’s eyes and it had buoyed her confidence, loving to have the chance to flirt and spoil Casey to her heart’s content. Although really with the small fortune she’d spent on letting Casey try to win at the coconut shy she would’ve expected a higher quality prize than the little plush tiger the redhead eventually chose. But when Casey had then only slightly bashfully presented it to her, saying that it reminded her of her courtroom persona Rita surprised herself with how much she immediately treasured it, able to picture where it would rest 'on-guard' on top of her jewellery box on the dressing table.

She’d tried to counter how the moment got to her by quipping that she’d need to work harder if Casey saw her as soft and cuddly in court, but Casey had simply rolled her eyes and laughed, quickly tugging Rita towards her to press a quick kiss to the side of her head before leading her further down the boardwalk and onto the next distraction.

Rita had been all too happy to follow. With the quite fierce and regal looking little tiger securely tucked under one arm, and her free hand safely and lovingly entangled with Casey’s whenever possible – only releasing her when Casey wanted to play a stall, or to tsk as she had to untangle Casey’s hair as it got caught on whatever food stuff the redhead kept on encouraging her to indulge in, Rita actually found herself not just tolerating the date, but actively enjoying it.

Cotton candy tasted sweeter when stolen off of her girlfriend’s stick of it. The gleam of Casey’s eyes in all the bright lights made the neon flashing bearable. The screams of hyperactive and wayward children were relegated to the background as Casey laughed and joked with her, muttering sweet nothings into her ear as they watched the sunset, and decidedly naughtier comments when they indulged in ice creams and hotdogs. It had all been going just swimmingly. But then Casey had legitimately squealed and bounced like an excitable golden retriever as she bounded towards the one thing Rita had been determinedly ignoring:

That fucking Ferris wheel.

As she covered her unease – all those different treats suddenly bubbling inside her stomach suddenly felt like such a bad idea – with an attempt at an indulgent smile and joined Casey in the queue, Rita couldn’t help but consider how they’d managed to get so far into their relationship without the discussion about Rita’s concerns – definitely not fear, Rita Calhoun was not scared of anything or anyone thank you very much – but unease, about being up on something so rickety and unstable that just went unnecessarily high and when was it last inspected and god did the damn seats have to sway so and oh shit was it just a bar across their laps that was meant to protect them? She was Rita fucking Calhoun, surely there was something more robust and reliable than a single metal 2x4 to stop her from plunging to her imminent dea-

Oh.

Rita glanced down at where Casey had taken her white knuckled grip from the metal safety bar and now held her hand in both of her own in the warmth of her lap,

“Babe, you should’ve just said if you didn’t want to go on the ride.”

Rita was glad that Casey was so close and so beautiful, it meant she could safely focus on her rather than how the ground, nice safe terra firma, was getting smaller and smaller the higher up they went. She made herself focus on the brightness of her eyes – how they seemed to radiate such love and warmth at her, to take in how there were a few more smile lines at the corner of those eyes than there were when she’d first found herself getting lost in them.

She dropped her gaze (oh god, wrong choice of word she chided herself), to the top of Casey’s cupid bow lip, able to instantly conjure the countless memories of how that lip felt pressed against her own, tracing down her throat and across her body drawing out and bringing her such pleasure. Right now though, the corner of those lips were curling up in one of those soft, ever so slightly teasing smiles that still made Rita’s heart beat faster despite how long they’d been together– although she was glad to notice that actually this time it actually slowed her racing pulse, letting her breathe deeply once more,

“I’m not scared,” she finally huffed out, even though she tried to shuffle closer to Casey in the same moment and instantly froze wide-eyed as the seat seemed to swing at her movement. With a roll of her eyes Casey lifted her arm to come round the back of Rita’s shoulders, encouraging the brunette to cuddle into her side,

“Of course not darling. I never said you were.”

Rita’s sigh this time was in apparent exasperation but truly, she felt inexplicably safer with Casey’s arm wrapped comfortingly around her. She finally felt brave enough to look past Casey’s face, being pressed so closely against the crook of her shoulder she could smell the distinctive scent of Casey’s perfume from where she’d applied it to her pulse point. It made her smile. She’d bought the redhead the bespoke scent for their second Christmas together, and it had been her go-to ever since. With the familiar hints of bergamot, blood orange and nutmeg swirling through her senses and Casey’s low voice pointing out the different sights that surrounded them Rita actually felt herself relax and begin to enjoy the experience.

Until the blasted wheel groaned and ground to a stop just as they came round to the top once again,

“Fuck! What’s happening? Is it breaking? Casey!”

With a gentle chuckle Casey ran her thumb over Rita’s knuckles and the back of her hand to calm her,

“Sorry sweetheart, I didn’t know you were going to be not scared so I slipped the operator an extra $10 so we could stop at the top for a bit.”

Rita turned to face her aghast,

“And why would you do such a thing!?!”

“Maybe because I wanted to look at all the different sights with my girlfriend,” she reached out to tuck some of the fly-aways of Rita’s classic half-up do back behind her ear, “Or maybe I wanted to make out with the love of my life on the Ferris wheel like a horny teenager…”

The wickedly teasing smile and gleam to her eyes elicited the exact knowing and playful laugh from Rita that Casey knew it would,

“Well, when you put it like that darling,” Casey loved how Rita’s usual confidence seemed to exude from her once the redhead had focussed her attention, already leaning forward as Rita beckoned her with her fingers curling under her chin, “C’mere you.”

So maybe Ferris wheels weren’t so bad after all.

In fact, sharing such sweet kisses that tasted like candy as the fair lights flashed, oblivious in their own world as children screamed and parents yelled all around them, meant Rita thought she could just about say she was a fan of the mechanical monstrosity.

Just.