reading fics placed in the us but written by a non-usian is so much fun because sometimes you can immediately tell they’ve never even been to the us and sometimes they set the scene so accurately that you start to think they actually grew up somewhere in the us mid-west and then you get slapped in the face by a “favour” 50,000 words in. all that detailed world building was for naught. just one treacherous “u” slipped in there and now i know your secret.
In S01E10 Bryce only has two moments of what seems like genuine emotions: firstly when Morgan tells him that Chuck’s college roommate was a douchebag and his entire face just drops. And later, when Chuck isn’t hurt and Bryce grins from relief.
summary: you and john had been assigned a mission where you two had to pose as a married couple. unfortunately, it didn’t go to plan and he ended up getting a little jealous.
type of fic: john casey x female! reader
word count: 1.3K+
warnings: jealous john casey, mentions of murder, injured foot (for reader), ooc! casey since this is the first time i’ve ever wrote him.
note: this was originally meant to be a smut but i didn’t know how to turn it into one so i got rid of it. which is also why it’s pretty short. this was also not a request.
as if being assigned a mission with the almost arrogant man you had met in the world wasn’t infuriating enough, the way the two of you failed it was something that made your insides turn red from the clear anger that you could only see whenever your eyes met his. the evening had started off so perfectly. the cover had started off so perfectly. everything was in place. everything was in line. it was piled up so neatly that there was no chance of it tipping over. but it did. and you absolutely only blamed it on him.
the two of you had been waltzing along the hallways of the manor as if the two of you owned the place. it was working perfectly. your heels clicked along the ground in rhythm with his dress shoes, something the two of you had merged together easily, although sarah was the one who made your outfit together.
the mission was simple. the two of you would infiltrate the ball of the manor which was stationed as a very important ring operative gathering, which they would have to find out. the way he slid his hands around your waist as you walked through the doorway of the main room, eyes flickering over the room, noticing every weapon and every danger that was in sight.
a whisper to his ear to let him know that you knew where everyone was and everything was, the two of you continuing your night as if the party was nothing more than some simple experience, when in fact it was the complete opposite, and the two of you were basically scheming on how to get everything right.
if it wasn’t the way that the ring operative looked at you, you would probably have been able to sacrifice your mission. you would’ve been able to keep it under control. but jealousy was a cruel emotion, and it was something that struck casey when a small kiss was blew into your face. drawing his gun out was something that was unexpected, and having it blown in one of the guest’s face was unfortunate.
you had to make a run for it as soon as it happened, kicking your heels off and roughly turning down one of the hallways, ending up back in the van that was waiting for the two of you, chuck and sarah in the back of it. the two of you managed to get into the van, the blonde driving as fast as possible to get you back to castle, where the two of you would have to remain for a while considering casey’s mistake.
“for god’s sake, casey!” you shouted at him, your heels clicking on the ground as you paced back and forth, throwing your bag onto the table, hearing the clatter of the gun against the hard surface, even though the leather of the bag should be enough to keep the sound from echoing around the room. “what is wrong with you? why the hell would ruin our mission like that?”
“you have no reason to say all of that. if you didn’t indulge yourself in the stupid flirtations that the enemy was dealing out to you then we wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place, would we?” it was so strange how calm he was being during this. it was as if your rage meant nothing to him. as if nothing had happened. but it had. and you were pissed. and he just let it go. what a prick.
“you have no idea how badly i want to murder you right now.” you groan, putting your hands over your face as you continue to pace back and forth. “you should be glad that the lovebirds are in the next room. i’d fucking slit your throat if they weren’t.” you sigh, sitting down on the table in the middle of the room, resting your feet on the two chairs that were on that edge.
“focus that energy on the ring, sweetheart. wouldn’t want you to flirt with them again and let them get away with it.” he shrugs off his blazer, hanging it over the back of one of the chairs and placing both of his hands on the table, leaning forward slightly. you scoff from how easily he was shrugging the whole situation off, as if he hadn’t jeopardised the whole mission.
“there is something seriously wrong with you, casey. you need to understand that this has ruined our entire case. sarah and chuck might have to take over considering that we got found out. you decided to draw your fucking gun out on it. it ruined it completely! come on casey, get your act together.” you stand up from your position again, kicking your heels off. it would only be for the moment now, as you wanted to leave as soon as possible. as soon as the report was written.
he scoffs, looking your figure up and down. “sure. but you can’t just put all the blame on me. you’re the one who got us into this.” the argument was becoming stronger, as if he actually knew what he was talking about. but you believed that he didn’t. you believed that he was just overreacting. flirting was normal on missions. especially during parties like those.
“stop being so childish.” you groan, looking him up and down in return. however, your comebacks soon met it’s horrible end as you couldn’t think of what else to say. you sigh to yourself, looking down at the floor as you pull your legs over onto the table, bringing your foot closer to your body. “fuck. i think my ankle died.” you wince, holding it with your hands.
you watch as he sighs, taking a couple of steps forward, looking at your ankle. “let me look at it. i may be some sort of asshole in your opinion but i am a member of your team. lets see it.” he says, gesturing to your foot once more. you sigh in return, shuffling closer to him and hanging your ankle over the table.
his hands were almost gentle with you. it was as if he wanted to treat you delicately, in some sort of weird way that made you want to feel good about him instead of thinking of him as some sort of bad person. but, for some reason, his grip was firm too, the contrast of both feelings making your ankle twitch in his touch.
“stop squirming.” he huffs, moving his hand around the side of your ankle, squeezing on it once more before letting go of it. “you’ll live. there’s nothing wrong with it.” he simply states, taking a step back, away from you. he could only watch as you moved it back round onto the chair that it was previously placed on.
but unfortunately for you, he decided to turn roughly on his heel, and left the room. was he mad? probably. you really couldn’t tell how he was feeling unless he was mad — since he had an extremely good way of showing it by either turning to violent training or something else that would end up getting the enemy hurt. it was effective though.
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