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infamous-light · 2 months

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You Ruin Me

Faith Seed x Gender Neutral Reader/Deputy

AO3: You Ruin Me

Summary: As you flee for your life through the forests of Montana, relentlessly pursued by a group of Peggies, a sudden accident halts your desperate escape.

Fear grips your heart as you brace for capture, but instead, it's Faith who finds you first.

Word Count: 1.8K

Warnings: Dub-con, emotional manipulation

As you dashed through the dense forest of Montana, the towering pine trees seemed to close in around you.

Branches reached out like grasping fingers, threatening to snag your clothing and slow your escape from the Peggies. Sweat beaded on your brow, mixing with the earthy scent of damp soil and the sweet perfume of wildflowers as you pushed deeper into the heart of the wilderness.

Your heart hammered in your chest, its erratic rhythm reverberating in your ears, drowning out the sounds of your own frantic footsteps. Each thud seemed to synchronize with the adrenaline coursing through your veins, urging you to push harder, run faster.

The cold night air enveloped you like a shroud, its icy tendrils seeping into your bones. As you inhaled, fear and desperation mingled on your tongue, their bitter taste intensifying the chill that gnawed at your insides.

The distant shouts of Peggies echoed around you, drawing closer to your location. Desperation clawed at your senses, imploring you to put even more distance between yourself and the looming threat behind you.

With your firearm cradled in your grip, its weight was oddly comforting amidst the chaos. The familiar metal frame against your palms served as a grounding force, a tangible reminder of your training.

"Running won’t save you.” Faith’s voice, tinged with a hint of mockery, broke through the air, sending a shiver down your spine.

You quickened your pace. Each breath came in ragged gasps, your chest heaving with effort and your muscles burned with the strain of exertion. But still, you pushed forward, driven by the primal instinct to survive.

Faith's voice, a haunting melody that seemed to linger in the air, followed you through the dense canopy of trees, its echoes twisting and distorting with each passing moment. You couldn't escape her, couldn't shake the feeling of her eyes boring into your very being, even though you weren't able to see her in the darkness.

No matter how far you wander, you cannot escape her grasp.

Just then, the sole of your shoe got caught on an unseen root, causing you to lurch forward with a startled gasp. The ground, seemingly solid just moments ago, crumbled away beneath your weight, and before you could react, you found yourself tumbling over the edge of a small, steep cliff.

The world spun around you in a dizzying whirlwind of motion as you plummeted downward, the air rushing past your ears.

There was a sharp jolt to your body as you careened into one of the protruding rocks. The impact tore at your flesh, leaving behind a trail of spattered blood that marred the surface of the stone. Each collision left its mark until finally, with a final thud, your body came to a stop on even ground, battered and bruised.

For a moment, everything was a blur of agony and disorientation. Your senses reeled as you struggled to regain your bearings. The acrid metallic tang of blood clung stubbornly to your parched tongue as you cautiously attempted to move your jaw. With a trembling effort to push yourself upright, a sharp, searing pang of pain ripped through your body like a jagged lightning bolt, sending shockwaves of anguish through every nerve and sinew.

The situation couldn't have possibly gotten worse until you heard the distant sound of footsteps approaching near the top of the cliff. Just as it seemed the Peggies were about to reach you, they abruptly changed course, their footsteps fading into the distance as they moved away, leaving you momentarily relieved yet still on edge.

You lay there, feeling the warm blood seep from the gash on the side of your right thigh. It wasn't a fatal wound, thankfully, but it was enough to slow you down. You knew you'd need to tend to it soon before an infection could set in. But for now, all you could do was lay there.

The world around you appeared hazy and detached. Through the swirling fog, a figure emerged, moving toward you with deliberate steps.

Your muscles tensed as you recognized the approaching silhouette – it was her. With each step, her light brown hair swayed gently in the cool breeze. As she knelt beside you, her features showed a mixture of compassion and reproach.

"You poor thing," Faith cooed. “You struggle so valiantly against the Father’s plan, and for what? To play at being a hero?” Her hand caressed the side of your face, a gesture both tender and chastising.

“Come with me and I’ll show you the path.” She said, her voice a seductive whisper promising salvation through submission. But you knew better than to trust her words, to fall under her spell.

“N-No, I won’t join you.” You stammered, your voice wavering but resolute.

Faith's expression softened into one of pity as she gazed down at you. “Oh, deputy. You lash out at things you don’t understand.”

You gave her a choked, humorless laugh, the bitterness evident in the hollow sound that escaped your throat. "I understand more than you think.”

Faith's gaze lingered on you, her eyes scanning every contour of your face with an intensity that seemed to penetrate deep into your soul. At that moment, under the weight of her scrutiny, you felt exposed. It was an unsettling sensation, as if the very essence of your being had been laid bare before her.

“I can see the loneliness in your eyes,” Faith murmured, her thumb brushing against your bruised cheekbone. "But you don't have to be alone anymore. Let me be the one to remind you how it feels to have someone by your side, to share your joys and your sorrows with."

You stiffened in response, feeling the conflict rise within you like a storm brewing on the horizon. Faith’s presence, her warmth, beckoned to something deep inside of you, a longing for connection and solace. Yet, simultaneously, the instinct to protect yourself kicked in, urging you to retreat behind the fortified walls you had constructed over time.

Though, all of that crumbled away in an instant, disintegrating like sand slipping through fingers, the moment Faith's lips, warm and inviting, pressed against your own, soft yet possessive.

Her fingers traced a delicate pattern along your skin, awakening every nerve ending with a fervent hunger. The sensation of her touch was electrifying, setting your senses ablaze with a raw, primal need that demanded to be sated. Lost in the heat of the moment, you surrendered to her completely, allowing yourself to be consumed by the irresistible pull of her embrace.

Faith's hand, with its light touch, explored the contours of your chest through your uniform shirt, admiring the lines of your muscles beneath the fabric. Her fingertips then danced along the buttons of your shirt before they dared to venture lower, teasing the edge of your belt buckle.

With practiced ease, Faith's fingers deftly worked at the clasp of your belt. As the leather strap loosened, your breath caught in your throat, anticipation building with every passing moment.

Faith pulled back from the kiss, her lips parting from yours with a soft, lingering reluctance. As she gazed down at you, her eyes dark with desire, a faint smile played upon her lips.

"You're even more beautiful like this." Faith breathed, her voice a husky whisper.

In a slow, deliberate motion, Faith slipped her right hand underneath the band of your underwear, her touch sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You let out a small moan as her fingers found their mark, teasing and tantalizing with each stroke. She applied just the right amount of pressure, her movements calculated to drive you wild.

"I've been where you are, deputy," Faith began, her voice low but filled with conviction. "I know what it's like to carry the weight of loneliness for so long that it feels like it’s a part of you. But here, with us, you'll find solace. You'll find a family who understands your pain.”

Tears welled up in the corner of your eyes, glistening under the moonlight.

"I know you've suffered silently, believing that no one could possibly understand," Faith continued, her gaze unwavering as she held yours, her hand stroking you faster between your thighs. "But you don't have to carry that burden alone anymore. And the Father,” Faith’s voice changed, taking on a reverent tone as she spoke of him. “He understands your suffering better than anyone. He has a gift, a way of connecting with those who have suffered and who have felt lost in this world. He can guide you through your pain and lead you to a place of peace and belonging.”

You were fighting for Hope County, for its people, for its future. But her words… they chipped away at your conviction. Was it all worth it in the end?

Your vision blurred as the tears finally streamed down your face. The salty taste on your lips only amplified the ache in your chest and you found yourself unable to contain the flood of anguish pouring from your eyes.

A soft 'aw' escaped her lips at the sight of you. Faith reached out, her left thumb wiping away the tears that stained your cheeks. “We’re here now and we want to help you shoulder it. Together, we can face whatever challenges come our way. Never lose Faith."

The tension between you and Faith reached its peak as her touch intensified, her hand moving with purpose between your thighs.

A guttural moan escaped your lips as you tumbled over the edge, your body on fire with pleasure. Your essence spilled onto Faith's hand, warm and sticky, and every touch, every kiss from her sent shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through you.

For a moment, everything else faded away, leaving only the two of you locked in a state of blissful abandon.

***

As the first light of dawn filtered through the trees, you stirred from your uneasy slumber. Blinking against the brightness, you slowly sat up onto your elbows, wincing as the pain in your limbs intensified with each small movement.

Then, as your senses fully returned, you felt something amiss – a strange looseness around your waist. Glancing down, your heart skipped a beat as you noticed your belt buckle was undone, the leather strap hanging loosely by your side. Confusion gave way to a rising sense of realization as you recalled the events of the previous night.

And then you felt it – the telltale stickiness in your pants. A flush of heat spread across your cheeks as the memory flooded back – the intense intimacy shared with Faith, her touch igniting a passion you had long denied.

Despite the ache in your body, a different kind of ache now pulsed between your legs – a craving for more of Faith's touch, for the closeness and connection she had offered, even if it came at the cost of your pride.

#faith seed x reader #faith seed #far cry 5 #far cry 5 fanfiction #faith seed x deputy #far cry 5 x reader #faith seed x you #far cry 5 fandom

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strawberryscorner · 1 year

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Forgotten Sins Series

Summary: You get in a car accident on your way through Montana with your family. You wake up in a bunker with amnesia, not even remembering your own name.

Now, you have a choice, join The Resistance or Eden's Gate.

Tags: Amnesia, Stockholm Syndrome, Drug Use (Bliss), Religious Cults, Fluff and Angst, Car Accidents, Family Member Death, Manipulation, Emotional Manipulation

Let me know if I missed one.

This story is also being posted on Ao3.

Parts:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15 (currently writing)

#far cry 5 fanfiction #john seed x reader #far cry 5 #far cry 5 x reader #forgotten sins

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musings-of-a-lovesick-fool · 1 year

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Hi! I’d like to make a request 😄 I love fics where enemies take care of each other, so how about one where the gender neutral reader/deputy is injured or sick and they show up at John Seed’s ranch. John is surprisingly concerned about them and takes it upon himself to nurse them back to health. Thanks for considering my request!

I am a big fan of these types of fics too! I'm splitting this into parts so I can post some of this finally, thank you for requesting and I hope you like this first part!

Title: Dusk Till Dawn Part One

Warning(s): Descriptions of stitching and cleaning an open wound, canon-typical violence

Words: 8.1k

The sun was slowly settling behind the trees, tinting the skyline with pinks and oranges as that familiar deep blue bled across the sky in the wake of its absence. John inhaled deeply, the smell of wet earth and the candles he'd lit meeting his nose and filling him with a sense of serenity he hadn't experienced since the reaping began. He had been preoccupied cleaning up after the ever troublesome deputy who seemed insistent on leaving a trail of destruction through his valley; but surprisingly they'd been MIA for a few days now. Something John was almost glad about.

Until his mind got the better of him, that is.

Even now, standing on the back porch of his ranch; sipping idly on a steaming mug of coffee and basking in the changing sky he could feel a trickle of worry on the back of his neck. It was infuriating, being worried about someone who was hellbent on knocking down everything he'd worked for; someone whose stubbornness and unwillingness to listen to his point of view further wedged an invisible barrier between them. He wasn't sure what was worse, the fact that he was worried something had happened to them or the fact that if the roles were reversed they wouldn't lose a wink of sleep over him being gone.

And lose sleep he most definitely had. His eyes droop with the sun as it finally disappears behind the trees, allowing for the moon's soft glow to bathe over the landscape. Each day the deputy was missing was another night John failed to get a full night's rest and it was starting to impair his work. Sighing he mulls over the day and how he'd snapped at a few of his Chosen who were simply doing exactly as he asked—they just happened to be doing it far too loudly and far too close to his open window.

He'd have to apologise, if only for crowd control; it wasn't very unifying for the herald of Holland Valley to be snapping and being irate at project members. Running a hand down his face John heaves out a heavier sigh, this wouldn't be a problem if the deputy was just where they were supposed to be. There were only so many places one could go off the radar in the County, they really couldn't be that far.

Rustling in the bushes pulls John out of his pondering and he feels his spine go rigid, he'd asked for some privacy so all the project members usually stationed at the back of the ranch were at the front and that fact left John a bit more vulnerable than he'd like. He takes a cautious step back, figuring he could probably make it inside before whatever was slinking around in the bushes could reach him.

But then he catches the sight of familiar eyes, a familiar face covered in blood and dirt stuck in a grimace and he feels his heart stop.

"Deputy."

He mutters the title under his breath, as if trying to assure himself he was really seeing them and not a sleep deprived hallucination. They fall to their knees, one hand clutching their bloodied side as they stare up at him with conflict raging in their eyes. He could tell this wasn't their ideal choice of destination but taking in the state of them, beaten and looking close to death, they obviously didn't have much of a choice.

"John,"

They choke out his name and his blood runs cold from how weak they sound. The deputy always had a tone of confidence, brazen and fiery and doused in a shameful amount of pride; it was jarring to see them like this. That worry that had been fogging John's mind was now an encompassing flurry of panic, his limbs moving before his mind could catch up and he was on his knees beside the deputy in seconds. His tattooed hands flutter about around them for a moment, hesitant to touch them in their fragile state yet desperate to check on their wounds and tend to them.

He doesn't have time to question his own desire to help what some would consider his sworn enemy, as the deputy falls into his chest, their shoulder digging into his sternum and temple resting on his collar bone. The contact urges him to wrap his arms around them and keep them from falling any further. Manoeuvring them to their feet is a struggle, having a near miss of their elbow in his face and a slip of their feet nearly sending them both tumbling down to the ground again. He manages to get their arm around his shoulder and his around their waist, leading them inside as fast as their injured body would allow.

Each grunt and hiss of pain pricked at John's skin, he found himself wincing as if he were the one injured.

He considered laying them down on the couch but the chance of his chosen walking in and seeing them was too high, so despite their whine of protest he dragged them towards the stairs. They both make it up without falling but the deputy's breathing only grows more ragged as they reach the second floor and John can feel his heart hammering against his ribcage as they stagger onto the balcony. Luckily the stray project members are distracted with each other so he gets the deputy into his room without being spotted and lays them down on his bed as quietly as he can manage.

They don't say anything as John rushes in and out of his ensuite, a medkit in his hands as he returns to their side. John unbuttons the deputy's shirt hastily and their lack of resistance does nothing to ease his anxiety, the blood staining their stomach and deep gash in their side worsens it even more so. He wasn't a doctor, far from it, but even with his limited knowledge he could gauge it was a pretty serious wound. If they were lucky there would be no internal damage but that wasn't something John could tell just from looking at it.

John doesn't waste any time, pouring disinfectant on the wound to clean it; doing everything in his power to ignore the agonised noises that escape the deputy's hoarse throat as he wipes the area clean. This isn't exactly how he'd planned his night to go and he assumed it wasn't in the deputy's planner either. He tried to take in the wounds and assess how they got them, maybe a judge or cougar got a good swipe at them, or a project memeber got them in the midst of a fight. It probably didn't really matter. He could hear the chatter of project members out the front and he prayed the music they were playing would drown out the deputy's rising voice.

"You might not be happy about this deputy but i'm afraid you're going to need stitches, I don't have any—"

"Just—do it," The deputy cuts him off and for a moment he finds himself lost in that flickering fire burning deep in their eyes. Even on the verge of bleeding out in their enemies bed they still managed to be as stubborn as ever. Ready to grit their teeth and bear the pain wrought unto them. John couldn't help but smile; he'd almost forgotten how impressive their grit was. He quickly takes out the needle and sutures from the med kit. The deputy squeezes their eyes shut as he threads the needle, and he watches their body tense as the metal makes contact with their overheated skin.

He tries to be quick while also being as meticulous and careful as humanly possible, each time the needle pierces their skin the deputy writhes under his hands. Seeing their attempts to keep from screaming bloody murder is almost impressive, but he was also worried if they kept tensing their jaw like that it would snap. He didn't really have anything to offer as an alternative however so he just kept his head down and focused on closing up their wound.

Under any other circumstances he'd tell them they'd gotten what they asked for; if you set a house on fire while you're still inside what do expect to happen? But with the blood still gushing out of their wound and coating his hands he simply couldn't find it within him to be any kind of teasing or condescending. It was odd, the tension in his shoulders and hammering of his heart against his ribs. He couldn't quite understand where all this anxiety had come from, or why he was feeling it over the deputy who he'd done his fair share of damage to at the point. Well maybe not drawn any blood as of yet but still.

By the time he's done and cutting the thread the deputy is all but unconscious, eyes fluttering and chest heaving as they try to keep themself from succumbing to the exhaustion and pain anchoring them to John's bed. John watches their face for a moment and stands, wandering back to his ensuite almost robotically to dampen a hand towel. He pauses as he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror, his shirt and hands coated in the deputy's blood, hair out of place thanks to their less than graceful journey to his room and eyes shaken and pupils dilated.

What on earth was he doing? Hadn't he been begging for someone to put a bullet in the deputy's head and save him from their ruthless disruption? Maybe he had been, but maybe he had also been hoping they'd come to their senses and come to him under different circumstances. This was less than ideal but still presented an opportunity. Maybe he could work with this—If they could find it within themself not to succumb to death in his bed.

A groan from the bed steals his attention again and he briskly walks back into the bedroom. The deputy watches him weakly as he folds the hand towel and wipes the freshly stitched wound, being careful not to drag too much over the fresh sutures.

"Thank you,"

John's hand stutters for a moment, shocked by the words they just croaked out. They close their eyes and he's not sure if it's because they truly can't keep them open any more or their weak attempt to avoid holding his gaze. Perhaps the genuine expression of gratitude was embarrassing and they didn't want to see the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Either way, he goes back to wiping the blood and grime from their skin and bites back any comments he could make on their docile attitude. He'd rather enjoy the moment while it lasted instead of sour it in any way.

Bandaging their wound is tricky as they seemingly passed out as soon as they closed their eyes but John manages; tying it off and then throwing what he could of the quilt half underneath the deputy over them. It's then that it sinks in that his perfectly well kept bed is drenched in the deputy's blood as well as covered in dirt and who knows what else. He cringes knowing he'll have to throw a majority of it out, blood did not come out of silk easily enough to bother trying to save it. The quilt he would make an attempt on however; when it was free of the deputy's beaten and bruised body of course.

He stands there, looking down at the deputy as their breathing evens out and their expression relaxes. They almost look peaceful and even more vulnerable than they did bleeding out in his bushes. As he himself was coming down from the adrenaline he slowly mulls over what just happened, cleaning up the med kit and disposing of any rubbish he idled around his bed. What should he do now? He could easily have the deputy taken to his bunker, placed in one of the many rooms to await confession. Their current condition might make them more susceptible to talking.

He could alert Joseph, see what he wanted him to do. But John didn't really want to do that—Not yet. He wanted to prove he could break the deputy on his own, get them to see the truth without any intervention.

He runs his eyes over the deputy once more, the menace that had been haunting him day and night without stopping was finally right in front of him. And he didn't feel how he expected too. He felt relieved. Relieved to see they were alive, albeit very badly injured, they were still breathing and he was thankful for it. He couldn't really understand why, or why he was so ready to help them but what is done is done.

Slowly he walks closer to the bed and sits on the edge of it, tracing over every feature of the deputy's face with his eyes as if trying to find an answer in the curves of their jaw or slopes of their eyelids. He was coming up with nothing, nothing besides his heart picking up a new pattern to beat too. Completely unrelated to being so close to the usually distant and far away time bomb of a human being before him he was sure.

He reaches out and caresses their temple, dragging his thumb down to their cheekbone. Their skin was soft, still ablaze and covered in a layer of sweat and grime, but soft. The last time he'd been this close to them they were tied to a chair in his bunker, being prepared for confession for the first time. He could still remember the look in their eyes as they glowered up at him, gnashing their teeth like a wild animal as he regaled his tale of finding his path to salvation. He wanted to pull from them their own, learn what had broken them and help them put themself back together. They couldn't see it that way, calling him crazy and cursing him to hell at any chance they got.

The memory brings a small frown to John's face and he retracts his hand, instead running it through his hair as he stands and steps away. If he was lucky, the fact they came to him meant something. And maybe they would actually listen to him for once, with the option of fleeing no longer being viable in their current condition. Maybe…

The next morning John is alerted to the deputy waking by the sound of his bed creaking and their low pained groan that runs along the floorboards. He hurries to finish off what he was doing, tossing the dirty frying pan in the sink and putting the plate of what he would call a successful attempt at eggs benedict on a tray. He hums as he places a glass of juice beside it along with a fork and lastly a napkin.

He decided it best not to give them a knife for the time being, for his own safety.

It was a spur of the moment decision to make breakfast, John didn't usually cook for himself let alone others but he was feeling particularly chivalrous this morning. And with his surprise guest in the condition they were in he thought it only polite; and perhaps his show of kindness would make them more inclined to follow his lead. Plus showing another side of himself may help the deputy come around to him, there was a disconnevt he was sure was created solely from distance and unfamiliarity. If he could bridge that gap he would get through to them, he knew it.

Climbing up the stairs and heading to his room John carefully nudged the door open with his shoulder, walking in only to be immediately met with a gun pointed at him. His gun to be in fact. Lovely. He forgot to take it from the bedside drawer while they were passed out, good grief he was losing his touch. He'd blame it on the mess of a night, being thrust into playing doctor and lack of sleep had thrown him off his game is all. He would be more careful going forward.

"Good morning deputy, I hope you slept well." He greets, continuing inside as if they weren't pointing his own weapon at his head. If he played it calm and collected surely they'd understand he wasn't a threat to them right now, or at the very least stop pointing his own gun at him. They falter, eyeing him and the tray in his hand. Their brows knit together, clearly suspicious of him, but they lower the gun by a small margin and lean back against the pillows. Their body is still tense and index finger still hooked around the trigger so John keeps his movements slow and careful. The last thing he wanted was to get shot for trying to do a good deed.

"What are you doing?" They ask warily as he sets the tray down on the bedside table, wiping his hands on his jean clad thighs as he steps back. Giving them their space and allowing them to inspect the tray with a distrustful gaze. Like a wolf sniffing at bait in the forest.

"After a person loses that much blood they've usually got quite the appetite, am I wrong?" He asks, tone almost casual as he eyes their bloodied clothes and bruised skin. In the morning light their injuries were much more obvious, aside from the gash he'd stitched up the night before their skin was littered in cuts and the bruises painting their skin could almost mimic a very muddied galaxy. Not to mention the blood and grime covering them from head to toe—they'd most certainly seen better days.

"You… Didn't cook that, did you?" They ask after a moment of eyeing the plate of what John would personally describe a very delicious looking breakfast. The deputy lowers the gun to their lap and glances at him for confirmation.

"I hardly think you're in the position to be picky about your food deputy, it's not poisoned if that's what you're thinking. I wouldn't let you ruin my sheets just to kill you in the most unsatisfying way I could imagine," John scoffs, somewhat offended they would think he'd do something so plain. He was more creatuve than poison for fucks sake. They roll their eyes gently and push themself up more, tentatively reaching out and grabbing the fork on the tray. They very carefully take a bite, as if one wrong move would leave them choking and fighting for life. All the while they watch John from the corner of their eye as they slowly chew and eventually swallow; his expression remaining pleasant as he watches them.

It was funny in an odd way, they were behaving like a feral dog brought in from the wild and given food for the first time. He'd be best to keep that thought to himself though, if only to avoid having his gun pointed at him again. He didn't want any holes in his walls or himself for that matter.

"Well look at that, you survived. Not the most awful thing you've tasted, hm?" He asks after a moment and they eye him for a second in silence before nodding begrudgingly.

"No,"

"Good, eat all of it, you need it. I'm sure you'll regale me about how you ended up in my bushes half alive and bleeding out when you're feeling better," He hums, flicking his hand in the air in a dismissive motion as he turns to look out the window.

"I feel fine now," They mutter and John huffs out a short laugh. He highly doubted that.

"Oh is that so? Well by all means you're free to leave, deputy, don't let me stop you," He smiles at them over his shoulder, waving towards the door he came through as they glare at him.

"Really, you'd just let me leave? Just like that?" They ask, distrust clear in their voice.

"Well you may find my chosen a bit hard to walk through outside but I won't alert any of them if you really think you can successfully sneak out in your condition," John smirks, raising a brow as they glance past him to the window. Honestly he'd be interested to see if they could, they'd pulled off seemingly impossible tasks before with much greater risks and disadvantages involved.

"They don't know I'm here?" They ask incredulously, voice hushed now as if they were worried about being overheard. John almost feels embarrassed for a moment, it was definitely a confusing choice not to let his family's followers know he had the catalyst of the apocalypse in his bed especially when they posed a very real threat to John's life. He'd thought about all of that, he knew there was a chance this could go south and all his hopes were for naught. But he still decides to risk it. There was no success without risks after all.

"No and I assume no one else does either?" He muses, watching as their face morphs through multiple emotions before settling on unease. They had just inadvertently trapped themself with their enemy and despite John's good intentions they weren't privy to his inner monologue and regret danced in their eyes as clear as day.

"This is quite the predicament isn't it deputy? What compelled you to come to my doorstep of all places I wonder," He can't help but taunt, turning back to face them and wandering to the end of the bed with a small smirk on his face.

"I wasn't really thinking straight, blood loss will do that to you," They mutter bitterly, glaring down at the food he'd given them as their shoulders sag slightly. Not from defeat but perhaps a resignation to their current situation. John decides not to poke them any longer, the stress and fatigue woven into their features causing a heavy weight to wash over his chest. He was trying to be civil and amicable and failing miserably. They could go back to their hostile back and forth quipping when they felt better.

"So i've heard—I'll leave you to your breakfast deputy," He utters quickly, ducking his head as he swivels on his heel and makes his way to the door. He can feel their stare burning into the back of his skull like a magnifying glass zoning in on an ant. That was good, in a way, their usual intensity was back which meant they were already much better off than they were last night. Hopefully the food would help and after that he could offer them the antibiotics he'd dug out of his medicine cabinet earlier that morning.

When he returns about ten minutes later the deputy is laying back against the pillows, cradling their stomach with their eyes squeezed shut. John makes sure they hear him coming and their eyes fly open and zero in on him as he approaches. He holds out a glass of water and the antibiotics as they point his gun at his chest, eyes guarded as they frown gently.

"I'll need to move you to another room for a moment, you did make a mess of my bed and I'll need to change it if I plan on sleeping in it anytime soon," He informs them as they push themself up, caustiously sitting on the edge of the bed and taking pills hesitantly, other hand still protective clinging to the gun.

"You're… Letting me stay?"

"Letting is one word for it," John hums, tilting his head to the side as they pop the pills in their mouth and take a sip of the water after taking the glass from him. He was surprised they didn't ask what he was giving them, seeing as they were so on guard.

"Keeping me captive then?" They prod further, eyes glancing up at him and John feels himself get winded for a moment. The food had obviously helped as that fire was starting to dance in their captivating eyes again, the flames cutting through him as they watched him with caution.

"Like I said, you're free to leave as soon as you can do so on your own two feet," John turns his gaze to the empty plate as he speaks, anything to avoid being swallowed by their inferno. Had their eyes always been that distracting?

"Why?"

The question hangs in the air and John furrows his brows in confusion.

"Why what?"

The deputy scoffs and leans back, holding their arms out and nearly spilling the water in their hand.

"You've been hunting me down for months, this is like your big opportunity to squeeze a confession out of me isn't it?" They ask, brows raised incredulously. John mulls over their words for only a second, trying not to let his rush of eagerness show as he nods down at them.

"If you wish to confess I am all ears deputy but, you came to me in your time of need. You could have gone to any of those little heretics you run around with but you came to me; call it what you want but I believe this is a step in a new direction for us," He smiles, placing a hand on his chest as he speaks. He reaches out and places a hesitant hand on their shoulder, their body goes rigid at the touch and they glance from his tattooed hand to his face. But they don't try to move it.

Once again their face twists through different emotions, settling on frustration as they shake their head and heave out a sigh.

"What does that even mean?" They ask, voice strained and tired as they raise a hand to grab his wrist. Their fingers wrapping around him sends jolts of electricity up his arm but he tries to ignore it, clearing his throat and tightening his grip on their ragged shirt.

"It means you will give me your confessions willingly, in time, and until then I will be patient and I will give you your time," John elaborates earnestly, squeezing their shoulder and offering another smile; this one much more giddy. He was so sure he was right, he could feel it deep within him. Just them being here was proof enough for him that they were edging closer to what he was saying. They would come around and see what he'd been trying to tell them, he knew they would. He just had to wait.

The deputy watches his assured expression, takes in his words slowly and removes his hand from their shoulder much to his disappointment.

"You're gonna be waiting a long time," They mutter, not bitterly, not even begrudgingly. They sound unsure, hesitant, and it only makes that spark of hope in his chest grow.

"Then so be it, but I have faith in you deputy; this is proof you have the ability to come around," John retracts his hand, missing the feeling of their skin against his immediately as he drops his hand to his side.

"Whatever makes you happy John—let's just get this over with," They sigh and John takes the glass from their hand. He places it on the bedside table before holding a hand out to them, they look at it like it's an iron rod ready to brand them, but they take it all the same. He eases them up onto their feet, his other hand resting on their abdomen to steady them. He notices they had left the gun on the bed, he chooses not to comment on it lest they reach for it and bring it with them.

John wraps his arm around their waist, just like he did last night; except this time they're fully conscious and not searing hot to the touch. They're skin is still warm and as their arm slings over his shoulder he can now fully appreciate how soft their skin feels against his. Their aroma leaves something to be desired, dried blood and sweat was never a good combination. He'd think about running them a bath once he was done, they were still weak but he knew they'd refuse if he suggested helping them bathe. A pity, he muses for only a moment, side eyeing the deputy's face as they slowly shuffle out the door.

The deputy cringes as the sun blinds the both of them, and they duck further into John's side as they bow their head to hide from the offensive light. The contact sends shivers up John's spine but once again he tightens his jaw and tries to ignore it. He slowly guides them to the guest bedroom, he sees them glance down at the yard and look back at him with confusion knitted into their expression and he chuckles gently.

"I sent them away, only for an hour. Just enough time to clean up and get you comfortable," He explains easily, opening the door and leading them inside. It was smaller than his room, with a single bed, two bedside tables and a small round table and chair tucked away under the far window. The deputy doesn't comment on what he said, they just nod and let him lead them to the table and chair tucked away in the corner. He helps them into the chair, they grunt with the effort and wrap a protective arm around their stomach as they curl in on themself.

John rests a comforting hand on their back, rubbing gently despite the warning sirens in his head telling him not to be so bold and familiar. They do nothing to stop him so he keeps his hand there. He almost doesn't want to leave, seeing them in such a pitiful state had a foreign feeling flooding his chest and the thought of leaving them made him feel ill. But he also needed somewhere to sleep and the longer he let the blood soak his bed the longer it would take to clean.

The mattress was going to be a nightmare he realises, perhaps he could get a chosen to clean it. He's sure he could come up with a believable enough story about the blood, one that didn't involve the deputy hunched over in front of him right now.

"I'll be right back, feel free to read any of those books if you get bored," John mutters quietly, motioning lazily to the bookshelf by the table before letting his hand fall from their back.

"Right."

They all but cough the word out, not looking up at him as they glance toward the books. Admittedly they were mostly law books but there were a few others thrown in there, surely something could appease them. If they read, he wondered if they actually liked books. What kind of books did they enjoy if they did, did they prefer fiction? What was their favourite book? Author? John leaves the room with a whirlwind of pointless questions filling his mind, in due time maybe he'd be able to ask them. Maybe they'd answer.

John walks back to his room and frowns at the sight of his bed. Without the deputy there he could see the full extent of the damage, a hauntingly large blood stain clung to the material and he shuddered to think what state the mattress beneath it was in. He looked down at his watch, sighing and rolling up his sleeves. It takes him a few trips to get all the bedding to the laundry and a few times he almost trips down the stairs but he manages to get the bed stripped. And lo and behold, the mattress looks like a murder scene.

He does his best to scrub the top layer of blood off of the material before dousing it in disinfectant and laundry detergent—surely that would do something? It would be enough for now before he decided on what poor soul was going to clean this for him. He might need a new mattress, not that it would be easy to find a queen sized mattress laying around at the moment. He runs a raw hand through his hair, he'd worry about that later, right now he had a guest waiting for him in the room over.

He steps out onto the balcony, breathing in the fresh air deeply and allowing it to wash out the strong smell of chemicals. He stands outside his door for a moment, running his blue eyes along the landscape and taking in the mountains in the distance. He wondered if the deputy ever stopped to appreciate the scenery, with how much they ran around the county he could only imagine they had to stop every now and then to at least catch their breath.

He turns and steps toward the guest bedroom door, twisting the knob and nudging the door open slowly. The deputy's eyes are on him immediately and John smiles at the sight of an open book in front of them on the small table.

"You took your time," They say quietly after a moment of the both of them staring off silently, turning their gaze back to the book. John scoffs gently and steps further into the room, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the doorframe.

"Well deputy, I don't know if you know this but you bleed quite a lot and blood stains are not that easy to remove," He says, watching as the deputy shoots him an unimpressed look.

"Oh I'm so sorry, I'll try to bleed less next time." They say, the sarcasm dripping from their words an absolute delight to hear and John can't help but grin.

"That would be greatly appreciated thank you," He teases, grin widening as they roll their eyes at him. It felt so—friendly—normal. It felt good. Talking with them like this, like they were friends and not enemies—it felt right. Like it's how they were meant to be. A small ache echoes in the hollow of John's chest as he remembers that's not what they were, not yet at least.

"Do you have a shower in that fancy ensuite of yours?" The deputy pulls him away from the nagging thought and he nods in response to their questioning gaze.

"I do but I believe a bath would be better suited considering…" John trails off, waving his hand in a sweeping motion over the deputy's form, still very battered and bruised. And very dirty.

"I think i'll manage," They press their lips into a firm line as they decline his suggestion and he shrugs gently.

"Alright deputy have it your way, if you need my help—"

"I won't."

Their words are firm. They sting a bit and John has to swallow the spark of annoyance it causes. It's not like he was helping them already or anything, no, patching them up, letting them sleep in his bed and making them breakfast couldn't possibly count as that. He bites his tongue, something he seemed to be doing quite a lot. He'd have to tread carefully lest all his unsaid comments accumulated and burst out in a fit of frustration. Not that his dear deputy was going to make that an easy task.

It would be worth it, just a bit longer, he could do it.

"Then I suppose you can hobble to the ensuite yourself hm?"

He could be a small bit petty as compensation, it was only fair.

The look of irritation that flashes across the deputy's face is rewarding to say the least. But then they're standing, holding themself up on the table and staring him down with that steely determination in their eyes. John watches as they stagger towards him, their legs almost giving out halfway across the floor and face twisted into a look of pain as they pass the bed.

Forever impressing him with their mere grit they stop in front of him, breath ragged from the effort of dragging their body across the room. John drags his gaze from their booted feet to their face and he smiles, reaching behind him and pulling the door open for them.

"You are something else deputy," He muses, stepping out and holding the door open for them. They grip the doorframe and stagger past him, grunting with the effort. They steady themself on the railing of the balcony and John glides to his door, swinging it open and keeping his eyes trained on the deputy as they hobble in his direction. It was cute, in a weird way, like watching a fawn take its first steps. A very angry, stubborn fawn glaring at him like he was forcing them to walk on their own. He would help but they would have to ask first. Nicely.

They make it into his room and pause by the doorway as their leg almost gives out again. This time John catches them by the elbow, they lean into his side as he guides them back up and despite himself he wraps one arm around their waist again. He'd love the satisfaction of having them ask for his help but he knows that won't happen and they'll just end up standing in the doorway all day. They don't utter a single word as he helps them the rest of the way to the ensuite. He could rub in the fact they do need his help but then they would no doubt become twice as difficult and he'd rather avoid that.

Plus, it was much sweeter to bask in their semi-defeated silence.

John lets them go and they lean against the sink, their scrutinising gaze running along the tiled walls before landing on him through the mirror.

"Think I got from here," The mutter, eyes fluttering down to the sink. John nods but doesn't move, eyes transfixed on the way their eyelashes fan over the top of their frike covered cheeks. They look criminally soft, even from a distance. The deputy glances back up and he straightens up abruptly, inhaling sharply and turning with another small nod.

"Alright—Well if you need anything i'll be right outside,"

"Comforting,"

John shuts the door behind him as he leaves, rolling his eyes and letting his hand fall to his side. It would be comforting if they had more faith in him. He wasn't an animal, he wasn't going to attack them while they were already down. Not only would it not be rewarding it would go against all the work he'd done trying to get them to break their icy walls. He hears shuffling behind the wooden door, no doubt the deputy undressing and he feels a mismatch of feelings stir within him at the thought. His enemy was getting undressed in his bathroom and was about to use his shower.

A stray thought of them falling and needing him to rush in and help ran across his mind and he swatted away as quickly as it came.

He listens to the sound of the running water with a frown etched onto his face. He runs his thumb along his bottom lip as he stands there lost in thought, the project members and his chosen would be back in thirty or so minutes and he had until then to make up his mind about what he was really doing here.

While the deputy had done everything in their power thus far to blow his plans up into smoke they did provide a challenge he hadn't faced before. A challenge he wanted to win. He was sure he could get away with having them here for a week without any problems, if they decided to stay that long anyway. And if anything it would be beneficial to the project, they were the main cause of disruption thus far and having them out of the picture would make room for repairs and getting back on track.

If anyone found out the deputy was here, he could explain it that way and he was sure no one would question him. He could also take this time to try and ease them into their atonement, maybe having a moment of rest would let them see some reason. It would probably be easier to hold conversation now that they couldn't really run away or shut off their radio and ignore him.

Yes. Alright. There it was then, he'd made up his mind.

"John,"

He jumps at the deputy's voice through the door. Fuck, he hadn't honestly stood their that long had he? He hadn't gotten lost in his thoughts like this for a long time. He hears them repeat his name again and for a moment he considers staying silent just so he can hear it roll off their tongue one more time—but he decides against it.

"Yes deputy?" He clears his throat and answers as evenly as he can.

"Kinda gonna need some clothes,"

Ah right. Of all the things to forget.

"Right, One moment," He walks over to his dresser, picking out a shirt and sweatpants and placing them on the edge of the bed. He steps back, running his hands down his jeans as he glances at the bathroom door.

"I'll leave them here on the edge of the bed, unless you'd like some help?" He calls through the door, tacking on the suggestion as an innocent after thought. He had no ulterior motives in mind whatsoever, he was just being helpful. In their state they might struggle to change, it would be practical to have him assist.

"I'll pass, thanks," The deputy replies dryly and John chuckles, he expected nothing less.

"Well I'll be right outside if you change your mind." He calls out, making his way out the door and closing it loud enough so the deputy could hear it.

He pauses outside the door and then takes a seat on one of the chairs by the window, clasping his hands together and running his thumb over his knuckle. Faintly he hears the ensuite door open and the deputy stagger out. A decade ago he might have turned and snuck a peek through the tinted glass, but he hadn't been that man in a long time and he kept his gaze on the road and trees in front of him. The windows were tinted anyway, he wouldn't see more than a hunched over, struggling blob micmiking a vague human shape.

Minutes tick by and John listens to the sound of the deputy struggling, it was amusing to say the least. Their annoyed grunts and curses barely make it through the thick wooden walls and to his ears. When the ruckus stops he stands, flipping his wrist over and checking the time with mild disinterest. A small part of him considered making a call and telling his chosen to stay gone for the rest of the day, but then the deputy might very well sneak out and run off into the wilderness once again. Despite their hesitancy beforehand John wasn't fully confident in their ability to stay put, they were stubborn and if he poked and prodded just an inch too far they'd crawl out of his ranch and right into a ditch.

And if that happened who would be to blame? Themself obviously—but others would no doubt put the blame on John. Joseph wouldn't be happy that he was certain of. The thought makes an unpleasant feeling curl around John's throat and he rubs at it as if to alleviate the phantom feeling. He'd just have to make sure the deputy was fully healed before they left, that way no one could point the finger in his direction if they succumbed to deaths embrace.

"Are you still out there?"

At the deputy's question John steps back to the door. His hand hovers over the doorknob and he turns it slowly, allowing the deputy time to react before he pulls it open and steps inside. They sat on the edge of the bed, glaring at him and adorning his clothes. He feels a lump in his throat at the sight, the fabric that usually draped over his skin on slow Saturdays now fell over theirs—it looked so natural. Like they were meant to wear his clothes, sit in his bed, watch him with that calculating glare.

"So now what?" They snap him back to reality and he rips his gaze back up to their eyes, they looked much livelier after the shower. Much more themselves now all the grime and blood was gone.

"Hm? Well rest is about the only thing you can do, in this state." He muses with the smallest shrug of his left shoulder.

"For how long?" The gawk, shoulders tense as they straighten their back.

"Well given the state of your wound I'd say a few days—"

"Days? Here? With you?" The deputy almost barks and John purses his lips into a straight line. He tries not to take offence, even though the horror on their face was anything but flattering. They could show a tad more appreciation for his willingness to let them stay, after everything they'd done and all he'd selflessly forgiven. He was being more than accommodating.

"Yes, with me, is that so terrible? I think you'll find when you're not raging your warpath and fighting me I'm quite pleasant company." He smiles, as if to convince them of his words. They give him a blank stare in return and it takes everything in John not to scowl.

"Right, I'll believe that when I see it."

A challenge.

Simple, easy. John had wonderful table manners and his conversational prowess was unrivalled, as long as his companion was willing to be cooperative.

"Trust me, by the time you're back on your feet you'll barely want to leave. I doubt Miss Fairgrave offers breakfast in bed after all." John hums, clapping his hands together and tilting his head as the deputy rolls their eyes and turns away from him. They drag their eyes over the expanse of his room and for a moment John does the same, checking the state of it and assuring himself it was more than presentable. Not a thing out of place after the thorough clean of the bed.

"Nah, but she's got whiskey." The Deputy shoots back, turning with a smug smile sneaking onto their face. It's quite a sight, one that gives John another pause. If he wasn't mistaken, that was the first time he'd seen the deputy smile.

"No whiskey, i'm afraid, but I do have scotch or wine." At his words the deputy's eyebrows shoot up almost comically.

"I thought you weren't allowed to drink?" They inquire, tone puzzled as they look at him with curious eyes.

"It's solely for special occasions." John said with a dismissive wave of his hand. Special occasions or lonely nights where he stayed up too long, a small indulgence no one needed to know about.

"And this is a special occasion?"

"Yes. Very." If only they knew. This was his chance. Both of their chances to prove something to Joseph, to get that golden ticket into Eden. A few days were more than enough for John to get them to understand what he'd been trying to tell them, if he gave them a behind the scenes view of what he did for the project they'd understand how he could help them. He was sure of it.

"Perhaps you'd like to tell me what happened over a glass?" John suggests, stepping forward and noting how the deputy didn't recoil or glare at him as he approached. Their gaze shifts to the floor and then to his now outstretched hand, hope bubbles along John's finger tips as he watches them like a hawk watching it's prey. Finally, after a moment of hesitation they take his hand. Their hand is warm, soft from the shower and their skin glides against his hypnotically.

He tries to ignore the fire set by their touch and helps them to their feet once more. The time much slower as he slides his arm around their waist and taking his time to guide them to the door. He wanted to savour the feeling dancing through him, the glee clouding his thoughts. This was progress. This was good.

#Far Cry 5 #john seed x gender neutral!reader #john seed x reader #far cry 5 x reader #GN!Reader Tag #Oneshot Tag #Anon Tag #this is longer than I meant for it to be and it's still not done sorry anon lmao #working on part 2 idk when it will see the light of day tho! trying to mix readers pov into it since this was entirely john pov #I really likethow this part turned out anyway so I hope other people do too <3

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farcry5seedfamily · 2 years

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"Where are you going, Little Sinner? Don't run away from me, you need to confess your sins and atone them" - John Seed

#jacob seed #john seed #joseph seed #faith seed #far cry 5 x reader #far cry 5 #seed family #joseph seed x reader #john seed x reader #jacob seed x reader

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vikkirosko · 2 years

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Headcanons

🙏 Joseph Seed x Reader 📖

You and Joseph met as children. Many children shunned him because of his visions, but you were not afraid of it. He was your friend and you weren't going to leave him because of that. He's been to several foster homes, but you haven't lost touch. You communicated by sending letters to each other. When you got older you met again at the university. You didn't tell him that you were in love with him, realizing that your feelings could ruin your friendship. Even when he told you about the girl he fell in love with, you remained a good friend to him

You and Joseph started seeing less of each other after he got married. You were a friend of his family and sometimes came to visit them. However, when Joseph came to you in the middle of the night, you were very worried. As it turned out, his wife had an accident. He told you about her death, about the death of his daughter. He was desperate. You were next to him, hugged him and listened to what he said. When he told you that he wanted to find his brothers, you offered to help him

You came to Hope County with Joseph and his brothers. You sincerely believed him, or at least you convinced yourself of it. You took care of him, reminding him that he was just a human being and that he needed a rest too. Joseph was grateful to you for that. For his flock, you were one of the closest to the Father. They respected you and fulfilled your requests, but you did not participate in their affairs. You spent most of your time with Joseph

Sometimes you caught yourself thinking that you stayed in Hope County only because of your feelings for Joseph. His brothers understood this, but neither they nor you talked about it. You weren't going to betray Joseph. You genuinely cared about him, even though you knew that your feelings were unlikely to find a response. You were going to stay with him until the very end, regardless of what lay ahead

✈️ John Seed x Reader 🕶

You and John met in Hope County. Eden's Gate didn't have such huge power back then. You lived on your small farm where you did business alone after the death of your parents. You had no problems with it and your life suited you. You got a little tense when in the evening, when you were about to go to rest, a car drove up to your farm. You didn't recognize the man who got out of the car, but he was polite and friendly. As it turned out, he wanted to buy some vegetables and hoped that he could buy them from you

John began to come to your farm often. He often started talking to you, he mentioned his family but never talked about them in detail. You had no idea that they were somehow connected with religion, but when you heard from friends that you should be afraid of John and his family, you were surprised. It was difficult for you to call John a religious person, and even more so to call him a religious fanatic and part of a sect. You weren't going to change your attitude based only on the words of other people. You felt sympathy for him and you didn't want to believe that he was a bad person

When the situation in the neighborhood got worse, you realized that John really wasn't the nicest person. When he came to you again, you were wary. The only thing that calmed you was that he came alone. John continued to be polite and even affectionate towards you. He invited you to the sermon so that you would understand that you didn't have to be afraid. The last thing John wanted was for you to be afraid of him. He wasn't a perfect person, but he wasn't going to hurt you

John would be lying if he said you didn't make him feel anything. He was hoping that you would eventually say yes and he would be able to see you as often as possible. He was sure that if you see each other more often, your relationship will grow into something more. He hoped that he wasn't the only one experiencing such feelings

🐺 Jacob Seed x Reader ⛰️

You and Jacob have known each other since you were teenagers. Then he lived with his brothers and guardians and you were one of the few people around whom he felt calm and forgot about all the problems. He fell in love with you and hoped that you had a future, but for the sake of protecting his brothers, he gave up this dream. You didn't know exactly where he disappeared until you heard your parents discussing that Jacob had killed his guardian and now he was waiting for a far from the easiest life

For so many years, Jacob has not been able to forget you. You were a ray of light in his life. After the army, he returned to his hometown and tried to find his brothers and you. He was really able to find his brothers, finally reunited with his family, but he couldn't find you. You moved out of town a few years ago and no one knew where. Jacob understood that he should have expected this, so he tried not to dwell on it. A new part of his life was waiting for him along with his brothers

In Hope County, he began spending a lot of time in the mountains. It was there that he met someone he did not expect to see there, especially after so many years. It was you. You've been living there for a long time, having moved there after graduating from university. You liked living in the mountains, in peace and quiet, but the appearance of Jacob destroyed your usual peace. He didn't tell you why he was in Hope County. He said that he had come there with his brothers, but he did not say the reason for this. He didn't want to destroy those fragile relationships that returned after so many years

Your house in the woods was bypassed, knowing that you are under the protection of Jacob. He often came to you, feeling calm next to you. You didn't mind his company. You were worried about him and the sheer number of his scars didn't calm you down. Even though your parents tried to convince you that he was a bad person, you didn't believe it. You wanted to find out what happened to him during the time that you didn't see each other and help him let go of all the pain that he kept to himself

🌺 Faith Seed x Reader 💫

You and Faith have known each other since childhood. You lived together in Hope County and grew up side by side. Rachel was your best friend and you often got into fights to protect her. She was soft and it was hard for her to stand up for herself, so you did it. You started dating as teenagers and were happy together. However, the older you got, the more problems there were in your lives

She developed an addiction from which you tried your best to save her, but every time she broke down again. You weren't mad at her, realizing that addiction was far from something that could be easily got rid of, but when she suddenly disappeared, you began to panic. You searched the whole city, fearing that she was dead, but your search was fruitless. The loss of one of the dearest people in your life really shook you, so when one of your friends called you to go to the Eden's Gate sermon. For you, it was just an opportunity to forget about your loss for a little while, even though you didn't believe what they were saying. But you didn't expect to see there

You were able to talk to her after the end of the sermon, perfectly feeling the frowns of the faithful on you. Rachel took you to the side, where the others wouldn't hear your conversation. She told you that she's Faith now and that Joseph opened her eyes to the truth and saved her. You felt very worried about her. You were afraid that Rachel had fallen under someone else's influence and tried to convince her to come home, but she wasn't going to come back. She treasured you, but she wasn't going to come back, so she invited you to join them so that you could continue to be together

It took you a few days to decide everything for yourself. You were ready to leave your usual life in order to stay close to Rachel. You had to get used to the fact that she was now a Faith and also to the fact that she connected her life with religion, but you were ready to accept her at any cost. You were ready to become her protector and follow her even to Hell if necessary. You understood that many people would say that she manipulated you and your feelings, but you didn't care. You knew the truth and that was enough for you

#Far Cry #Far Cry 5 #Far Cry 5 x Reader #Far Cry 5 headcanons #Joseph Seed #Joseph Seed x Reader #John Seed #John Seed x Reader #Jacob Seed #Jacod Seed x Reader #Faith Seed #Faith Seed x Reader

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annwrites · 4 days

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finding bliss in the bliss *.✧

— pairing: jacob seed x fem!reader

— type: ficlet

— summary: jacob seed takes your virginity in a field of bliss

— tags: porn w/o plot tbh

— tw: sex, loss of virginity, drugging, fingering, cussing, dubcon (reader asks about protection, but jacob makes the decision for them both to bareback it)

— word count: 4,544

— a/n: well, this ended up being way longer than i initially expected it to be lol. i hope i kept him in-character!

(this scene was initially going to be used in a much larger fic where the the reader (originally an oc) meets john first during one of joseph's sermons that she went to out of curiosity & generally feeling lost/alone in life. she eventually is taken in by john/eden's gate, bc john has been having dreams about her, & believes she's his soulmate. but bc he knows jacob needs someone good in his life as well, he has her go stay with him at his cabin in the whitetails as he "works" on his silo sometimes, so that she's kept safe while he's away from the ranch. in reality, he's hoping they'll connect & also fall in love. & they do and they're all a happy throuple. but this scene initially ended with jacob trying to pull his cock out of his boxers & she freezes, telling him she wants john to be her first & he gets super hurt & upset about it.) anyway!

You swear, that the more you walk, the more you can hear a faint humming sound coming from up ahead. Once the two of you break through the trees, you see where it'd been coming from. Before you is a massive field of flowers, moths flitting along them, and behind the field is a row of greenhouses, to the right of them a huge marble-and-stone building.

You look to Jacob. "Where are we?"

He nods his head toward the large building. "That's the factory where we make all our bliss. And while there's plenty of others throughout the region, this is the largest field of it that we have."

You balk. So you're both standing before a giant field of hallucinogens.

"W-Why did you bring me here?"

He looks down to you, his hands in his pockets. "You were the one who was curious."

Your brows furrow. "I expressed that curiosity in the truck—meaning you were already headed this way."

"No, originally I was going to take you to Sabre-Tooth Springs. We're just making a detour right now."

He steps away from you then, walking closer to the field.

You panic. "Jacob," you nearly yell his name.

He turns back to you, one brow raised. "You wanted to know what it was like."

"I didn't think I'd be finding out tonight..."

He doesn't respond.

You take a small step closer to him. "What if...what if I have a bad trip?"

He determines it a small victory that you're not going to fight him on this experience, but, rather, are willing to let it happen.

He steps back over to you, his broad form towering over your own. He nearly smirks at how small you are compared to him. So vulnerable...

"I'll be right here the entire time. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

You glance to the alluring field of flowers, illuminated only by the moon above and the lights from the greenhouses in the back, then back to the large man before you.

"Do you really think my first time doing it...it being in a field of it, is a good idea?"

He shrugs. "No one's ever had a better one."

You nearly roll your eyes as he turns away from you. You quickly reach out, gripping his right hand in your left and his head jerks in your direction at the sudden contact.

You look up to him with wide eyes. "Can...can I hold your hand?"

Your own is shaking, he notes.

He nods.

You take a deep breath, then another as you step closer and closer, until, finally, you're at the beginning of a path, which leads down the middle of the garden.

You grip his hand tighter as the two of you begin down it, your head quickly beginning to spin as you breathe in the strong-smelling flowers which surround you. Your other hand comes up to wrap around his arm, sparkles filling your vision. "I feel so dizzy. Light-headed." You look around you, your vision swimming, heart now pounding. "Everything looks funny. I don't like this."

He drags you along, further in, cutting across the path until you're completely surrounded by the angel's trumpet flowers. "Just relax. Everything you're feeling is completely normal."

You shake your head, trying to center yourself, but it causes the entire world to spin instead, so you press your forehead against Jacob's upper-arm, desperately wanting it to stop.

"Here, just sit down and ride it out."

Ride it out? There was no riding it out, so long as you were sitting in a damn field of it.

Nevertheless, you do as you're told, taking a seat beside him, swaying side-to-side as you watch the world around you ebb and flow, as if you were underwater.

"Hey, look at me," Jacob says as he gently places his index finger under your chin, turning your face in his direction, causing your vision to fill with small silver sparkles again.

"Yeah, your pupils are blown."

Your heart jumps and you swallow nervously as you reach up to your face. "Is that bad?" You ask with a whimper.

He smirks. "No, just means it's working."

You wonder what he means by that, but find yourself completely unable to concentrate long enough to try and figure it out.

"Lie back."

You do, closing your eyes, willing yourself to calm down. Wait—hadn't he said it helped do just that? No. That happened when you found the correct dosage, which this most certainly was not.

They smelled so lovely, though...

Finally, when you open your eyes, you notice that Jacob is now leaning against his left arm, looking down at you. "How do you feel?"

You blink up at him. "Warm."

"So take a layer off."

You giggle, then cover your mouth, wondering where the hell that had come from. You lower your arms back down to your sides. "Are you trying to get me to take my clothes off?"

His brow raises. "You're wearing a hoodie."

You flush. "Oh. Right."

You unzip it and Jacob's eyes darken when he notices you're not wearing a bra beneath your thin t-shirt, but you don't see his reaction as you sit up long enough to slip the article of clothing off, lying it beside you before you lie back down again.

"Better?" He asks.

You look up at him again, suddenly feeling warm all over. Was that a normal reaction?

"No, still warm."

His jaw flexes, then, "So take something else off."

Normally, you know you would be beyond upset at such a suggestion, would make a scene over it. Would never do it, but you simply...don't care in this moment. You feel a way you never have before. Calm, euphoric. Happy.

So you sit up again and grip your t-shirt at the hem, lifting it up over your head and Jacob watches, his face betraying nothing as he takes in your now-naked breasts.

You lie down yet again and giggle, covering your shapely breasts with your hands. "I'm naked."

"Not technically." He replies, his tone completely serious.

"How are you not...do you not feel as good as I do right now?" When you speak, your voice sounds little like your own now. It's playful, lilted, breathy... Alluring.

His jaw twitches. “Let's just say I've developed a bit of an immunity to it.”

You wonder how that's even possible. How much of it someone would have to do to even achieve that. But because it's him—Mister Always-in-Control—you're not surprised by this fact.

You reach down to the waistband of your sweatpants and begin to wiggle out of them, not even caring as your underwear goes with them.

You look up to Jacob then, and his gaze is trained solely on your face now.

“Now I am.” You say, your entire body warm, a flush spreading lower than just your face, but to your neck and breasts as well.

He simply replies with a “Mhm.”

You laugh at him, then mimic his serious disposition by pursing your lips and furrowing your brow. “So serious.”

You close your eyes again and breathe deeply, heat now pooling between your thighs.

Jacob, while your eyes are shut, uses the moment to take you all in. Your breasts, your soft stomach, your round hips and supple thighs, and your sex between your legs.

When he looks back to your comely face, your wide eyes are open and watching him.

Before he can think or do anything, you're on top of him—straddling him—your legs bent at the knee on either side of his waist as you come down to rest directly over his throbbing erection, which strains painfully beneath his jeans.

He leans back on both his elbows as you rest each of your arms on either of his shoulders, your breasts nearly in his face.

"The hell are you doing?"

You shrug, feeling unusually bold. Obviously. Or you wouldn't naked, on top of Jacob Seed, in a field of psychedelic flowers right now. "Not sure yet." You giggle again, running your fingers through his hair.

"You're a naughty little thing, aren't you?"

You feel your core heat at that. "Not usually."

His lips twitch. "I'm aware. Had I known all it would take to bring your walls down would be some bliss, I would've brought you down here days ago."

You scoot a bit closer, your chest nearly against his and he groans at the sensation as his cock twitches underneath you.

"Why?"

He's broken from thoughts of fucking you senseless for teasing him like this. "Why what?"

"You've barely spoken to me for the past week, not that you're ever home, so why do you care about my walls?"

His cock hardens at you talking about walls, him wondering what the ones between your legs would feel like clenching around him. He doubts you could take all of him anyway.

"Does that upset you, me not paying attention to you, sweetheart?" He asks in a mocking tone.

Normally, you'd fill with embarrassment or shame. But right now? You simply shrug.

"Is that why you're naked and on top of me? Because you don't need my attention?" He asks, thinking he finally has the upper hand. How wrong he is...

You grind down against his erection and sigh. "Mm, actually I want this."

He raises a brow. "To dry hump me?"

He could give you a lot more than that, you need only ask. But he wasn't about to admit as much.

You hesitate for a moment, then nod.

He glances down to where your sex is already making a wet spot on his jeans, directly over his cock. He then looks back up to you, eyes hooded. "Go on, then."

It's all the encouragement you need before you reposition herself overtop of his left leg instead. He lowers it until it's flat on the ground, and then you do exactly what he said. You rub yourself against the leg of his pants, your head thrown back in ecstasy, your eyes closed, lips slightly parted.

For awhile, Jacob simply watches you, arms behind his head, content to let you do this all night if that's what you want.

Then, Jacob sits up for a moment, reaching behind you to slip the band around your ponytail free and your hair falls in soft waves down your back. Her briefly considers how it would feel wrapped around his fist.

You don't stop your ministrations for a moment, continuing to whimper and sigh and moan as you take what you want, perhaps need.

Finally, you opens your eyes and Jacob sits up a bit. You wrap your arms back around his neck again and crush your lips to his.

You open your mouth, moaning into his own over and over. God, you'd never felt so good, so free, so alive before. You understood why people took bliss now. Who wouldn't want to feel like this forever? You could get lost in it. Wanted to.

He flicks his tongue against yours , then brings his rough, calloused palms to rub up and down her bare back and you shiver, gasping against his lips at the heightened sensation.

Then, he grips your hips as you continue to ride him, wishing he could get some fucking relief himself. He wasn't usually this generous, in that, if he was with a woman, they were both getting theirs. Not just one of them.

You begin to ride his leg faster then, your breath coming in soft, short pants. He suddenly flips you onto your back "Oh no you don't."

Your eyes shoot open, as well as your mouth, but before you can speak a word of protest, Jacob is lying on his side, leaning against his left arm as he spreads both of your legs with his right, then reaches between them with that same hand, running his index and middle fingers between her soaking folds before plunging them inside of you.

You gasp at the unexpected gesture, then throw your head back against the ground.

Jacob brings his other arm to press down on the lower portion of your stomach as his fingers frantically fuck you, barely allowing you to catch your breath.

You bring your right arm up to grip his jacket, unable to so much as speak, only able to make the most embarrassing noises—which included those coming from between your thighs...

Jacob suddenly curves his fingers upward and you moan his name in response, causing him to smirk in satisfaction before easing yet another finger inside of you.

It doesn't take but a few minutes more before you finish, his palm covered in you as your back arches and you spread your legs wider. Sparks explode against your eyelids, your entire being set ablaze, your cunt contracting wildly against him.

He doesn't even bother stopping, until your hand comes down to grip his wrist. "Please," you whisper, trying to catch your breath, trying to calm your pounding heart.

His movements cease and he removes his fingers from inside you and you watch as he immediately places them in his mouth, your eyes going wide as he sucks your juices from them.

Only once he's cleaned them does he settle his arm over one of her lowered thighs. "Do you have any idea how fucking good you taste?"

You open and close your mouth like some stupid, gaping fish, before closing it and opting to simply shake your head.

He runs two of his fingers between your hot, dripping folds and your body jerks in response before he brings them up to your lips. "Open."

You obey and he eases his fingers into your mouth and you suck on them before he removes them a few seconds later. You don't find there to be anything extraordinary about how you taste, but perhaps he had a different palate than you.

You then decide that you sound ridiculous, and have no idea what you're even on about.

"So, did you get what you needed? Or do you need to go again?"

You're surprised he's offering you a second orgasm. But pleased he is nonetheless. The first had been...unlike anything you'd ever felt before. Had been mind-bending. Your entire body had been at his mercy.

You look at him shyly. "Maybe."

He brushes one of his calloused thumbs over your nipple. "Oh yeah?" He says with mild interest before gazing at you.

You spread your legs again, nodding. "Mhm."

He sighs. "What am I going to do with you?"

You bite your lip. "Whatever you want."

He shakes his head, chuckling. "Don't tell me that or I'll fuck you within an inch of your life."

You still, somewhat wishing he would.

Then, you climb back on top of him again. He leans back like before. "What are you up to now, darlin'?"

You unbuckle his belt and his hand shoots out to grip your wrist in an iron clasp.

You look up to him, your heart pounding wildly with excitement.

"You sure about this?" He has no condoms on him and he wasn't about to even consider the pullout method. When he came, it would be deep—with his cock buried as far inside of you as he can get it—every drop of his cum filling you. And if your coupling resulted in something...more...he'd deal with that then.

All he could think was everything he wanted to do to you right now. Consequences be fucking damned.

You look at him, a smile playing on your lips. "Trust me."

Him trusting you wasn't the problem right now. Sure, bliss no longer had the effect on him that it once did, but there was still an impact on his body when he got near it. And being here with you like this in a field of it? He was liable to lose control once he was finally inside of you.

Once you have his belt fully undone, you then unbutton and unzip his pants and you kneel next to him and he lifts his hips as you slide them down to his ankles.

Before he can toe off his boots, wanting to fuck you completely bare, you've climbed back into his lap and are reaching for his erection over his boxers. You stroke him a few times before rubbing the tip of him against your cunt.

He looks at you in confusion. "What're you doing?"

You continue rubbing him against you and his cock twitches—once, twice—and he wants nothing more in all the fucking world than to finally sheathe himself inside of you.

"Are you trying to be a cock tease?" He asks, irritation lacing his voice.

You give him a mischievous grin and shrug before rolling your head to the side, your hair coming to slip over the front of your shoulder.

Jacob sits up, his chest pressed against yours and you wrap your arms around his neck then. He relaxes some. You'd just been trying to ready yourself, that was all. He reaches under you and starts trying to pull his boxers lower, trying to free his erection, but you still and pull away, looking down.

"I..."

He stops. "What?"

If you were about to ask 'what about a condom', so help him God almighty above...

"I've never..." You trail off.

Realization dawns on him. You were a fucking virgin. Even if you sure as hell were not acting like one right now.

"You're still a virgin, sweetheart?"

You nod, suddenly embarrassed.

He squeezes both of your hips firmly in his rough hands. "You want to fix that tonight?"

You just stare at him, running your fingers nervously through his hair.

He moves his hands lower, gripping your ass. "Hm? Would you like that?"

Your cunt was throbbing between your legs and you were so wet that you were dripping. All you could think about was all the things he might do to you if you said yes.

Why had you been waiting again? With your head so light and fuzzy, you couldn't remember anymore.

Finally, you nod.

He gently sets you to the side and you watch as he unlaces his boots, then tugs off his jeans the rest of the way. He then pulls his shirt off over his head and you feel a pang in your chest at the scars littering his abdomen. What had happened to him?

Your feeling sorry for him is cut short, however, when he pulls his boxers off, freeing his erection.

Oh God. It'd never fit. Never ever.

He gently grips your hips in his hands again and you sit back on his thighs and gingerly take his erection in your hands, holding it up against your stomach. It came up above your navel.

Jacob could nearly laugh from the terrified look on your face.

"Something the matter, honey?"

"It's too big," you look up to him, eyes wide and full of innocence. "It's not going to fit."

It twitches in your grip and you nearly unhand him when it does so.

"Oh, I'll make it fit, baby. One way or another."

You look into his eyes again.

"So, you want to be on top, or should I?" He asks, his tone patient as you decided.

"I...I don't know."

He sits up, wrapping his arms around you, your hands still around his dripping erection. "You want me to decide then?" He grabs your ass again, squeezing. "Want me to do all the work and you just enjoy yourself?"

You nod, hesitantly.

He leans forward, trailing his lips, then his tongue along your neck and you let out an unexpected moan, making his hard cock twitch again. Once his lips are near the shell of your ear, he speaks. His voice is low, gravely, full of lust. "Lie back and spread your legs."

He quickly grabs his jacket, fanning it out and you lie back on it, doing as you were told, spreading your legs wide for him.

He kneels before you, resting back on his haunches as his hands first grip your breasts, massaging them, then he uses one of his hands to grip your hip, the other palm-face down, running between your breasts, down your stomach, finally coming to rest overtop of your sex.

"This what you want, darlin'?"

You watch as his cock bobs between his legs. You nod, silently.

He slowly eases two fingers inside of you and you grip the jacket beneath you.

"Oh, yeah, that's what you want. Nice and wet and ready for me, huh, baby?"

You bite your lip, whimpering as he teases you like you had teased him.

Your eyes pop open when he removes his fingers, now rubbing the tip of his cock against your entrance instead, slapping it gently against your pussy a few times.

"What about-"

"What about what, sweetheart?" He asks, brow raised in mock-interest at what you have to say.

"Protection."

"We don't need it," he states, pushing inside of you before you can protest.

The pain isn't as bad as you had imagined it would be. Perhaps some mild discomfort at first, but he gives you a moment to adjust to the size of him—you'd been stupid in thinking those first few inches would be it, though.

As he eases himself the rest of the way in, the feeling is unlike anything you'd ever felt before.

You'd fingered yourself before, even used the handle of a hairbrush a few times, watching with fascination as it bobbed inside of you as you clenched around it, but this...you'd never felt so completely filled.

Jacob lets out a low swear and you look up to him in worry, until he speaks. "You're so fucking tight, Jesus."

He looks down at you, where your bodies are now joined, his length completely hidden inside of you. You'd done far better at taking every inch of him than he'd previously anticipated. "That feel good, sweetheart? You like that?"

"I feel so...so full."

He smirks. "I bet."

He begins to rock his hips against yours, slowly, using every ounce of self-control not to just fuck you raw like he wants so desperately to do.

He lowers himself on top of you, one of his hands holding himself up, trying not to crush you. He uses his other to slide down your thigh, lifting it onto his back. He sinks impossibly deeper and curses.

He looks down at you as you wrap your other leg around his backside. "Do you know how good you feel like this?"

You shake your head, eyes now glazed over, face and breasts splotchy with a sex-flush.

"First one to be inside of this pretty little cunt, hm?"

If you weren't already pink and red all over, you'd flush from the words leaving his lips. "Y-yes."

He eases out and back into you a few more times, your cunt squelching from how wet you are. "Such a needy little pussy, isn't it? Bet it doesn't take much to get it soaked, does it?"

You shake your head, licking your lips. "It's kind of annoying, actually."

He chuckles. "Only for you. You have any idea how much use I'd get out of it if it belonged to me?"

You grow quiet, mortified at the way he was talking about your body, even if it turned you on all the more.

He crushes his lips against yours, using his tongue to tease you for a moment before pulling away, sitting up again, cock still firmly inside of you. He reaches down, brushing the pad of his thumb along your lower lip, before easing it into your mouth. "You look like you could use something to suck on, darlin'."

And so you do. You suck on his thumb, hollowing your cheeks, wrapping both of your hands around his, and he groans at the sight, imaging how his cock would feel in there. God, you were fucking perfect.

He rams his cock into you a few times and you just moan and sigh in pleasure.

He pulls out a few inches, admiring his glistening length, completely covered in you, and then he shoves it back in. You clench around him and take note of how he hisses at the sensation.

You do it a few more times, completely on purpose now and he curses, and not quietly. "Fuck, Y/N."

Eventually, he grips your hips again, rolling over so that you're on top and he begins to tug your hips forward, then back, trying to encourage you to ride him again. You start to do so, the feeling of him settled inside of you, feeling him moving with you...it's such an odd sensation, but it feels so good.

He lies back, reaching up, taking both of your breasts in his hands, fondling them as you rock your hips against his. He begins to tug against your nipples, gently pinching them and smirks when he feels you clench at the feeling.

"You like that, baby, that feel good?"

You nod fervently. "You're doing such a good job riding my cock, sweetheart. That's it." He grips your hips again, having you bounce on it. He throws it head back. "Fuck, just like that. God—fuck."

You settle both of your hands, palms face-down, on each of his pectorals, settling onto his cock again and then you begin to roughly buck your hips against him, riding him as hard as your body can manage.

So much for letting him do all the work...

He says your name over and over again, eyes closed, a curse escaping his lips every-other word.

He's gripping your hips and sides so hard you're sure he'll leave bruises, but you don't dare tell him to stop. Finally, he sits up, crushing you against him, his face buried in your breasts, taking one, then the other into his mouth, gently biting down and sucking on them as you continue to ride and ride, his breathing become more erratic, his hips bucking up into you, the tip of his cock plunging against your cervix.

"Fuck, baby, just like that. Good girl. Ride my fucking cock. Just like that, honey."

Finally, you climax, your walls clenching around him over and over again, the first time you'd come from anything other than clitoral stimulation.

Jacob quickly follows you over the edge, his cum shooting inside of you, hot and plentiful as he moans into your hair.

Once the two of you settle, coming down from your orgasms, he slowly eases you onto your back once more, removing his cock from you inch-by-inch, his cum spilling out of you, onto the ground.

"There's so much of it," you say, surprised, looking up to him, noticing his member was coated in it, sticky cum dripping from the tip still.

He smirks, looking between your spread legs where your cunt was now just a messy red hole—covered in him—needing to be filled again. "And there's plenty more, trust me."

#fic: far cry v (jacob seed x reader)#jacob seed x reader #jacob seed imagine #jacob seed x you #far cry 5 x reader #far cry 5 x you

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ihatemyselfandwanttodiexxx · 10 months

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Faith Seed x reader

Basically what this is

So I want to smoke weed with faith, and yes I'm high rn so this may be peak of my writing capabilities lmaoo also reader hasn't smoked with faith yet so you just hang out with her

You lay on the bed bored and Faith walks over to you and greets you by saying "hey sweetie! I'm home for a while so what do you want to do?" You grinned and asked her "I have some weed, so do you want to smoke?" The blondes face lights up and she says "can we hang out in the car and stop by the store and park by dead man's river!?" You laugh and reply "yeah, babe we can do whatever you want, put something other than that dress on so the resistance doesn't think you're going to hurt them" she runs to her closet, mostly full of band shirts that she stole from you and your hoodies a few minutes later she walked out wearing a (favorite band) shirt, jeans, and one of your hoodies wrapped around her waist, of course your clothes are oversized on her, but she loved them and you love seeing her happy. You grabbed your phone, weed, and speaker and went to the car you got into the driver seat and drove to a gas station and you both got out of the car you sent her to get snacks, and you got (favorite drink) and her favorite drink Faith walked up to you with her arms full of your and hers favorite candies and chips. You put walked to the front and bought your items, then went to the car driving to the river you pulled out your speaker and your Spotify to play some music, then got your bowl out. You both smoked in the back seat under a blanket you were both stoned and when her favorite songs came up she pulled you out of the car to dance (pick one of these bc they're amazing) STORY CONTINUES ⬇️

You held Faith with your arms around her waist and her arms were around your neck, slow dancing next to the body of water, falling in love all over again, you stared into her eyes and thought about how lucky you are to have her and pulled her in closer, telling her how much you appreciate her and you pulled her into a slow kiss, just savoring this moment in your mind, she sat down in the grass, and ate a handful of candy, you knew some people would say that she's beautiful in her dress and when she's all dolled up, but you love this, her wearing your clothes smiling and listening to amazing music, you love her, and always will, you'd never do anything to hurt her and will destroy anyone who does, you may not believe in edens gate, but you joined for her and will stay unless she wants to leave, you ask her to go into the car and she does, you and her sit together and start making out under a blanket music still blasting, you were both content the weed enhanced the euphoria you both felt, you wished this moment could last forever.

Hi people, I am so so sorry I haven't posted fics in a while I've just had life stuff and my ex girlfriend was a cheating hoe so yeah sorry bros but requests open please send some

#far cry 5 x reader #faith seed #weedsociety #lgbtq #fan fiction #fluff #spotify #x reader #gender neutral reader #i want this #coping #cars #make out #my love #faith seed x reader

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starr-finn · 1 year

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Send me far cry 5 requests plz omg i just replayed it

#far cry 5 x reader #far cry 5 fanfiction #far cry 5

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ivymarquis · 2 years

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Guess who’s back

(for real this time!)

Uhhh so I have two thingies sitting in my inbox from like 3 years ago that Im still vibing with writing, but if anyone’s interested I’mma open up requests to get the writing juices flowing again :D ALSO if there’s any far cry 5 rp blogs still around I’m the mun for @deputyxcc and would love to get her rolling again

#overwatch x reader #far cry 5 x reader #fanfiction #far cry 5 rp #idk what tags to even use anymore idk guys read the f list and get back to me I guess

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agender-wolfie · 1 year

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Guys. Stop tagging your OC stories as X reader. It’s hard to sift through and I don’t go to the x reader tag for OC’s I don’t care about .

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shalotttower · 3 months

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A Heart Deceived

Title: A Heart Deceived

Fandom: Far Cry 5

Characters: Jacob Seed x Reader (female)

Summary: AU where soulmates share the same marking and Jacob doesn't have to brand you any further.

Word count: 2900+

Notes: soulmates, yandere!Jacob Seed, Reader is not the Deputy, captivity, violence, emotional manipulation, dub-con kissing, scars and injuries description: Reader has a mutilated ear and facial scars from a wolf attack and is not happy about it, a mild form of Stockholm Syndrome.

His fingers are surprisingly gentle. You don't expect it from him, the gentleness, Jacob is not kind or caring. Jacob is not warm, not nurturing, not indulgent. Yet his thumb skims across your jaw with quiet focus. Down the side of your neck, up your chin to follow the slanted line there, then it repeats the whole procedure on a different scar. They had long healed by now and turned into uneven ridges of mismatched tissue.

It hurt when the damned wolf bit you, the next day, and for many following days; the effective and precise killing machine aimed for the throat, and if you didn't twist the last moment, would have succeeded.

Jacob never punished the wolf, it was serving its purpose, while you, you were supposed to think before acting and understand the possible consequences.

The pain could be endured and later forgotten, what could not was the humiliation of lying on the dirty ground and the shiny view of Jacob's boots growing larger until they stopped in the line of your vision. A moment of painful awareness: the escape attempt which failed so abruptly and so brutally had become laughable. Jacob grabbed your hair and shook you like a disobedient puppy. "That's on you, sweetheart. Be wary of the quiet ones, they say."

Those last words sounded as if he were talking to himself, rather than anyone else.

"I warned you."

He did.

Jacob is right, not in everything, but in many things. One can try and deny it, another can scoff, but the bottom line is the same: Jacob is right in many things, and at times it's better to listen. Even despite an involuntary gagging reaction.

Your heart hammered and every single beat of it brought to the surface what you already knew — there would be no other attempts. The paleness from fear or perhaps blood loss must've shown on your face, because he let go of you and crouched down. "Pathetic."

It lacked genuine heat, disappointment, or any emotion. Being disappointed would mean that Jacob expected something in the first place. He pulled off his jacket and pressed it to your face, stemming the bleeding. The ground seemed more interesting than ever, dry soil dotted with rocks and grass blades scattered everywhere, trampled by people's feet.

You don't want to look at him or acknowledge the touch to a small sword on your wrist, identical to the one above his left elbow. The mark is a clean reminder and a binding claim for life. You don't want to see it or remember how Jacob's face twisted when he realized just who you were.

Like someone had slapped him.

A lot has happened; Montana turned different from what you saw on TV and the world suddenly shifted under your feet, rearranged from a little road trip across the states into his territory, his commands, his people. A part of you — a foolish, soft part — wished you could've met under different circumstances, in a different place and you told him once about it in a moment of weakness. Jacob stilled at first, but then kept cleaning his gun. "We're here, sweetheart. Nothing we can do 'bout it."

Could've beens and never happeneds weren't worth wasting thoughts on.

Now Jacob is tracing your scars. He's not handsome, not really, there's too much roughness to the lines of his face, dark circles and untrimmed beard, but... you frown. You don't know how to describe Jacob Seed or why you even bother trying. It's odd to think about him this way. Weird.

Jacob catches your eyes. "What?"

You close them. "Nothing."

He makes a noncommittal sound, then leans in. The kiss to your forehead is unexpected and brief. A lot of them are — quick kisses on your temple when Jacob thinks you're asleep, on your nape when he leaves the bed before dawn. They make you wonder just what he wants from you.

He never expects affection back.

Doesn't try anything further, and you both are suspended in this limbo, neither being the first to break it, nor acknowledge its growing significance with every passing day. One part of you craves it, to yield in a different way, not because it is required, but because you want, yet Jacob doesn't ask, so perhaps it's for the better.

Another gets nauseous. He breaks people. Like dry twigs, discarding the pieces when they have no more use. You've seen his Chosen training until they begged, cried and crawled, their pride crushed along with the body.

There are days you can't bear looking at him.

***

Sometimes, sometimes, you wish him dead and gone from the world, then the mark on your wrist aches like a fresh wound.

"When will you take off the chain?" You ask and wiggle your foot a bit. It's long enough to reach the bathroom, to wander around the quarters, but not to walk outside. Jacob doesn't look up from his book. The cover is worn out and you suspect he read it many times already, military stuff. Strategy. Survival tactics, you have no idea.

"When I know you've learned your lesson."

So, not today.

You sigh and roll onto your stomach. "It's stupid."

He doesn't respond.

It's annoying more than anything. Reason — you're his soulmate, not some runaway cow ready to get lost in Montana wilderness — didn't help and only gained you a blank stare followed by a lock click. The chain rattles with each movement, loud and distracting; Jacob just keeps reading as if nothing happens.

Sometimes, sometimes, you catch yourself thinking that this isn't so bad after all. He treats you well for a cult leader: fed, clothed, clean, sheltered. Compared to the cages his future Chosen sleep in, you don't get to complain. You have a comfortable bed instead of cold dirty floor, normal meals rather than a chunk of raw meat, privacy and silence without old school music 24/7.

You frown. No, it's not nice. It's Stockholm Syndrome, plain and simple. You should be free, away from this place.

"Are you angry?"

Jacob turns another page. "No."

His room smells of pine wood and gun oil, with an undertone of metal. The furniture is scarce and practical. A wardrobe, a desk with a radio placed on top, one bookshelf. Bare walls except for a giant map pinned opposite the bed; you've memorized all the markings on it during your stay. The areas which got liberated by Deputy are red, his outposts are circled in blue. Jacob doesn't talk about Deputy much, but the way he clenches his jaw over the radio frequency makes you think they must be a real pain in the ass.

Secretly you hope they blow Eden's Gate HQ to pieces soon.

What would it mean for you?

These are questions, vague and inappropriately timed, coming to mind. What if Deputy happens to eventually tear the Project apart? They escaped John, escaped Jacob and you were to personally witness his foul mood for two days straight. You overhear bits and pieces of conversations, the Chosen talk if they think no one listens — Deputy is strong and clever. Persistent and cunning. Maybe that's the reason Jacob's so obsessed with them.

What if...

You glance at him from under your eyelashes and rub the mark. They say there's a connection between soulmates. If one dies, another experiences it on a physical level. Jacob said that was bullshit. His brother didn't confirm or deny when you asked him after a sermon.

Joseph Seed unnerves you. Not just because he believes himself to be God's vessel. There is something in his voice, quiet and soothing like the distant rolls of thunder, it raises goosebumps when he starts preaching and you're forced to sit through it. Something in his eyes behind yellow-tinted glasses sends shivers down your spine, very little to do with his religious fanaticism.

What would you feel if Jacob died?

The thought creates an unpleasant twist in your stomach, unwanted bond or not, it leaves you queasy. You curl on the bed. Jacob has reading glasses, you barely held back a snort the first time you saw them propped up his nose. He shoots a flat look from above the pages but doesn't comment on your inquisitive stare.

By now you know when to speak and to remain silent (mostly). He dislikes unruly ones and finds satisfaction showing them just how insignificant they are, how mistaken in every single sense. Weak. That's why you annoy him mildly when feeling particularly brave or in need of interaction, but never play soldier or power. It triggers something which is best avoided, gets people punished, then shot in front of others. Or sent for trials, you're not sure which is worse.

Jacob marks a page and sets the book aside. "What?"

"What 'what'?" You ask back, fiddling with the hem of a grey camouflage shirt. It's way too big on your frame, Jacob likes the look of it, judging by how much of your wardrobe consists of his stuff now that you don't leave the room.

"I can hear the wheels in your head turning, spit it out."

"What would happen to me if something... happened to you?"

You're afraid of saying 'if you die' because it's final, even though Jacob seems invincible most of the times. A mountain against hurricanes. Yet everyone dies eventually and the Deputy keeps winning against all odds set before them.

"Nothing. Joseph takes care of you."

This is news, and frankly not the answer you hoped for.

('You'd go free' was. He didn't say 'I won't die' either.)

Tension seeps into your shoulders without a conscious thought. "Why? I am nobody to him."

"You are my soulmate," Jacob replies, simple as that, like it explains everything. Perhaps in their cult world it does, but not yours.

"So?"

He pats his thigh.

It's a gesture without much interpretation required, but you stay rooted on the bed. Cautious. You've grown familiar with each other after living together for months — sharing a space tends to do this to people — still tonight is different, full with awkwardness you haven't felt since that time he walked in on you changing.

Jacob's stare is intense. Heavy, cold blue eyes linger on your wrist where the sword surrounded by flames peeks from under the long sleeve. You swallow a lump in your throat and get up on unsteady legs.

"So he will do it out of memory. You're family, pup, whether you wish it or not."

With the same caution you sit on his lap, war memories written in pink-red skin decorate his face. Just like yours, you think, the only difference is the place and origin. There's something intimate about being like this. Jacob holds you in place once you settle down, not comfortable, but not exactly uncomfortable either.

"Never took you for a cuddly type," you say to shield yourself from growing unease. "Why the change?"

Jacob's thumb presses to the corner of your lips. "Got tired of those puppy eyes staring at me the whole evening, sweetheart. You can have a closer look."

"I don't have puppy eyes. And maybe I like looking from afar."

"Yeah?"

His beard has a prickly feeling to it.

You know your face will never be the same after what happened. From his point of view, Jacob can probably see where the scars begin in the hairline, then continue downwards only an inch away from your eye; small miracles and such. Half of your ear is missing, a good solid chunk. It's not a nice look.

"Don't touch them," you mutter.

You don't mean to share your thoughts in such an abrupt manner, but these intimate moments become a source of discomfort, like a sharp, twisting knife. Jacob doesn't flinch at the sight, he probably saw worse things, still it feels humiliating being reminded of your shortcomings and the fact that this is your face — permanently marked.

Jacob doesn't stop.

"Beauty dies fast, darlin'," he says slowly. "This here... this'll stay."

He never sugarcoats anything. Never lies to spare feelings, ruthless and pragmatic with a clear understanding of what matters and what doesn't. Only the weak need empty reassurances; his words. You hate this side of Jacob just as much as admire it on occasion, right now you wish he said something else. Beauty dies fast.

"Thank you Jacob, very comforting. Top ten phrases you should tell someone who got mauled by a Judge." You cross your arms, wondering why the hell are you talking about this. With Jacob. The worst choice possible to bring up sensitive topics, or maybe the only one, since there's not a lot of people around anyway.

"I ain't here to stroke your ego, sweetheart. This," he traces a scar, "is a lesson to remember. Next time when thinking 'bout running — think again and think good."

There will be no next time regardless of how he phrases it. The chain rattles every night when you shift under the blankets and falls down with an annoying bang as soon as you get up. There's nowhere to run too, the Whitetail Mountains belong to Jacob, he rules them like a king would rule his kingdom, with iron fist and strict order, and who knows what the local Resistance will do to you if they catch you first.

If they figure out whose soulmate you are.

You're trapped between the Deputy destroying outposts and Jacob hunting them across the region, like a mouse stuck in a corner while cats keep prowling around.

The sky outside has an orange-pink hue, casting Jacob's face into soft light and deep shadows. He takes off his glasses, setting them on the book's cover, then wipes a stray tear from the corner of your eye. "You gonna cry over looks?"

You sniffle. "Yes. I wish I never met you."

He stiffens. For a second you worry it might have pushed a wrong button. Jacob never hurt you physically, still there's a healthy dose of fear, not necessarily born out of past experiences. At times his presence just radiates off in silent waves so thick you can feel them crashing into yourself before he walks away and doesn't return for days, leaving you alone with the Chosen stationed behind the doors to watch over and report back to their Herald.

Jacob leans closer until your foreheads almost press into each other.

He doesn't initiate touch often. Once in a while he lets you sleep on his arm instead of a pillow or allows you to sit closer than usual during meals, but that's it. There are boundaries set, most of them are unspoken rules which you picked up along the way: you can ask questions and be generally yourself within reason — as long as it doesn't border on disrespect, Jacob will tolerate occasional attitude in very small doses; you can request certain items provided he approves; he prefers silence during breakfast.

Never challenge him publicly and don't talk bad about his siblings.

This confession can't be taken back, nor do you wish to, because it's true. You regret meeting him, and it was much better to wonder and guess, create images of a faceless man somewhere in the depths of your mind and fantasize about possibilities. How does one even go back to normal life after this?

(Not that any chance of doing so exists in the foreseeable future.)

"I figured, darlin'," Jacob says finally. His voice lacks anger, as if he expected those words one day or another, Jacob isn't naive or stupid and is surprisingly aware of himself in a lot of matters, of the fact that very little would want to end up where he dragged you and being imprisoned under the heavy metal chain doesn't add to fond memories either. "Fair enough."

In all months you two lived together, sharing food and space, in all months, he never kissed you.

Now he does.

His lips are chapped, dry and slightly rough.

You find yourself going rigid at first, unsure what to make out of it. It's different from what you imagined, the fantasy version seemed more... violent and harsh, less intimate and private. He breaks the kiss briefly and then resumes it again.

Slow-slow-quick, Jacob steals your breath away bit by bit until your head spins, until your hands feel clammy and then, when you think you can't take it any longer, he pulls back.

"Won't apologize 'bout the scars, pup. You deserved a lesson."

Your throat feels parched.

"But not of this kind. Never wanted it for you."

It doesn't sound apologetic, neither regretful, but it is what it is, probably the closest to it Jacob will ever be capable of. His hand strokes the back of your neck in slow and repetitive circles, and in an odd way, it does seem soothing.

He takes you to bed minutes later, maneuvers you closer under the sheets and turns off the light. The window is open letting in the sounds of evening wildlife: crickets chirp loudly nearby, some owl hoots in the distance; Montana smells different than other states. Sharper, wilder. You lie like this for a bit, curled against his side and he's always so fucking warm, a human furnace incarnate.

"The moment I saw the marking — I wished you never met me too."

#shalott fanfiction #yandere #far cry 5 fanfiction #far cry 5 #jacob seed #jacob seed x reader

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strawberryscorner · 11 months

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Forgotten Sins Chapter 12

Tags: Amnesia, Stockholm Syndrome, Drug Use (Bliss), Religious Cults, Fluff and Angst, Car Accidents, Family Member Death, Manipulation, Emotional Manipulation

Series Masterlist

John opened the doors to the church and gestured for you to walk in first. Joseph was sitting on a pew in the front talking to Jacob while Faith was rearranging the flowers decorating the wall.

“We were just going to come to you,” Joseph said, standing up as John shut the door behind us. “Were you able to take care of everything?”

“Yeah, but that’s not why we’re here,” said John, gaining odd looks from the rest of his family. “Dawn heard something when she was taken.”

“What did you hear?” Joseph turned his eyes to you; it was like he was devouring your soul.

“People were talking, the Resistance is about to get outside help, some police officers. I don’t know when, they didn’t say. They just said they were coming and that it’d be soon.”

Faith looked bored; Jacob shared a look with John before they both turned their attention to Joseph who looked very calm at hearing the news before finally nodding his head. The only evidence that he had even heard what you had said.

“I knew this time would come; I didn’t know it would be so soon but…We are prepared.” He placed his hands on your shoulders. “Thank you.”

He took a deep breath and excused himself, he needed to prepare for his sermon, needed to change his speech due to this new knowledge. Faith smiled at you, glared at John then left with Joseph, saying she wanted to discuss if the flowers needed changing as well.

“Someone’s waiting to confess,” Jacob told John. “I need to get back to training those soldiers so they’re ready for what’s coming.”

Jacob left you both and John took you to where he held his confessions. There was a man waiting there with his head down, looking at the ground in shame.

“Stay here,” John said and went to take the man’s confession. You were pacing outside the door, you could hear the man crying, you weren’t sure if it was from shame or whatever John was doing to him. You prayed it was from shame.

You almost started biting your nails again but shook your head, that wasn’t a habit you needed to start. You needed to think about what you would do. Would you stay and fight with Eden’s Gate? They’d done so much for you after the accident, Faith and Jacob seemed like friends now, John too or at least something close to friends. Joseph still scared you though.

But now with the Resistance getting help to stop, possibly kill all these people, you couldn’t leave them. You had to stay, which meant you’d have to confess and be baptised. All you could do was hope John wouldn’t hold you under the water too long like he seemed to have a tendency to do sometimes.

You had to think back, had you done something to make John that mad? Or would he just dip you and it would be over quickly and nicely? You were still wearing his clothes, so he couldn’t be too mad at you, right? You didn’t think you’d share your clothes with someone you were mad at.

The door swung open which pulled you from your thoughts, the man stumbled out, holding some cloth to his stomach and thanking John. You were sure the cloth was turning red as they said goodbye. Hopefully, there were doctors around he could see.

“I want to confess,” you said. John looked at you in surprise.

“Think you remember that much?” You nodded, not entirely sure but you had to do this. You remembered enough. He smiled softly, tilting his head. “Ready to commit to the family?”

That made you pause for a second, were you ready to commit to the family? Were you rushing into this? But the way he was looking at you, you felt yourself nodding, you were ready. If it were Joseph, you weren’t sure your answer would have been yes, but John’s gaze was very different from Joseph’s. John’s seemed to calm you and pull you back into yourself when you wanted to flee.

“Yes. I’m ready.”

He nodded once and held the door open wider for you to enter the room. It wasn’t pleasant. It made you want to run away; it looked like nothing good could come from this room. But then he placed his hand on your arm and guided you to the chair near a desk. The chair wasn’t comfortable, just a plain wooden chair. John kept his eyes on yours, not saying a word, letting you start when you were ready.

You took a deep breath; you weren’t sure what your sins were. You had taken lives, but it was in duty, you weren’t sure if that counted as wrath or any other sin but that wasn’t your job, that was John’s. So, you’d let him figure it out, you’d just confess.

You started off by telling him some of the other war stories you had shared with Jacob, the ones that were bloodier and more violent, less pleasant. The ones that made you wish you could forget them again. You kept your eyes on your hands that were clenched into fists on your lap as you told your confessions, tears forming in your eyes, but you kept going until you felt a hand gently brush against your cheek. You looked up and John smiled softly at you, letting you go on.

Once you were finished with your stories, he asked if you had confessed everything, and you shook your head. You started to tell him about the jealousy you had felt seeing families around the ranch or when you visited Faith’s or the church. You missed yours so much even if you couldn’t remember then still, you missed family, you saw what family was and you wanted it back. You were mad at the one who took your family away from you, you were mad at God for taking them away from you so quickly, so easily. You wanted a family; you wanted your family.

“Now, I’m done,” you said, looking at him, scared, of what you weren’t sure. Scared of what he thought of you now? Scared of what he was going to do to you now that the confessions were done? A mix of both?

“There are three sins I sense in you, princess,” he said, picking something up from the table. “But for today, let’s just focus on one and we’ll see if you can control the other two.”

He got on his knees in front of you, lifting the shirt covering your hip and asked you to hold it up for him, which you did. You closed your eyes, not wanting to see whatever was in his hand or what he was going to do. You jumped slightly when you felt a stabbing pain above your hip. He shushed you gently, trying to get you to be still as he finished.

“All done,” he said, and you looked down at the word envy bleeding above your hip. You felt a wave of shame and guilt wash over you. How dare you be jealous of families? Was everyone meant to lose theirs just because you did? No, this wasn’t fair to them and certainly not to you. Now that you’ve confessed and gotten branded by your sin, you could learn to move on.

John held his hand out, you placed yours in his and he helped you up to your feet before straightening your shirt, so you were properly covered. “You did good,” he said gently.

His words turned your cheeks a shade of pink and filled your body with a warmth that fought back the shame and guilt that had surfaced earlier. “Thank you,” you said, unable to hold eye contact.

“Let’s go home,” he said, placing your arm in his, leading you to the door.

***

Back at the ranch, there was a box waiting inside by the couch. John told you to go upstairs, and he carried the box, walking behind you to the bedroom. Once inside, you were unsure what to do so you just sat on the bed and watched John.

“These should all fit,” he said, placing the box on the floor near you and crouching down, pulling out dresses in various colours and cuts and placing them besides you on the bed. Your eyes grew wider with each item he pulled out, it was almost never-ending. It didn’t seem that big of a box at all.

“Try them on and we’ll see if we need to replace any,” he said, helping you back to your feet even though you were more than capable to do that by yourself. You hadn’t injured your legs.

You looked around and there wasn’t another room to sneak off to so I could change and he didn’t move, he just kept his eyes on you and sat on the bed.

“Aren’t you going to…I don’t know, leave? Or something?” you asked, causing him to chuckle and shake his head.

“Once again, this is my room princess, you can’t kick me out and don’t worry, I’m just here to make sure everything fits well, if it’ll make you feel better, I can cover my eyes,” he suggested while covering his eyes with his hands.

You tilted your head and watched him before waving your hand in front of his face, when he didn’t react you decided to just trust him. After all, he did think you were abducted by the Resistance from the safety of the ranch while under his care, this was probably just fear it might happen again considering Joseph most likely wouldn’t be pleased to hear a repeat of the incident. John would probably be stuck to you even more now.

You winced a bit as you lifted your shirt off, the motion causing your envy mark to stretch. You noticed John peeking through his fingers at the sound of you wincing but didn’t say anything, he was unbearable enough without trying to defend or deny his actions. You slipped on dress after dress. John praised you in each one, letting you know how beautiful you looked in them or how well they suited you. All of them fit, and all of them covered you well, not making you feel too exposed or vulnerable. The only issue was, how were you meant to help fight what was coming in dresses? Though, you supposed if Faith could, so could you with the military training you had forgotten you had.

Once all the dresses had been tried on, John hung them in his wardrobe. It was hitting you that he really wasn’t letting you move out of the ranch, or into another room, you passed a few doors on your way to this one. At least one had to be another bedroom, but it seemed like you were staying here.

#far cry 5 fanfiction #john seed x reader #far cry 5 #far cry 5 x reader #joseph seed #forgotten sins #faith seed #jacob seed #john seed

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musings-of-a-lovesick-fool · 2 months

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#far cry 5 x reader #john seed x reader #john seed x gn!reader #Far Cry Tag #Poll Tag

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fr0gg3rrr · 1 month

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BOLD AND BRAVE

john seed x fem!deputy

smut warning. no explicit consent given. choking. hair pulling. biting. fingering. some oral (f receiving). p in v.

4.8k words.

Soft sounds echoed off the wooden walls of the secluded cabin, walls that had heard far too much, that would sooner be chopped to pieces and shoved through a chipper than be allowed to spill the secrets it held. John Seed was a holy man, and cleanliness was close to godliness, so he made sure never to leave things unkempt. Nothing ever had a trace of him, even his glasses back at the ranch were cleaned of fingerprints every night. Call it germophobia, call it paranoia, whatever plagued his thoughts when he was alone in the comfort of his pressed silk sheets didn’t seem to leave him now either.

Though more pressing matters seemed to be on at the forefront as he pressed her head down against the pillow, the small grunts that usually escaped his lips at this point didn’t bother trying, he was too busy in his mind. He shouldn’t be doing this, he knew that fornication wasn’t allowed, and as a Herald, he had to make an example for others, though that had never stopped him before. Now only contempt nipped at the back of his neck where unrequited love bites had been left. Sure, he could be upset at how Joseph wouldn’t be happy if he found out his little brother went against the cult rules, but that didn’t seem to be it either.

He stopped himself suddenly, not even bothering to let himself finish. It was a shocking act for even him. John Seed, silver tongue of the cult who always took what he wanted not even caring for his satisfaction? Well, it certainly seemed to shock the woman under him, who turned to look at him through her eyelashes.

“Why’d you stop?” Her voice called up to him, a whine in her tone that made his stomach churn. He looked at her with disgust in his sharp blue eyes, a look she had not been accustomed to from him. “What’s your problem?”

She sat up now, pulling a loose sheet over her exposed body as she tilted her head at him. She was a beauty, really, she was, but that didn’t seem to be enough for him tonight. Sure, John felt a little bad for how he constantly treated her, but her own beauty didn’t do it for him anymore. He needed something he felt he couldn’t outrightly take, he would seem far too pathetic if he chased after what he really wanted, so he settled for a shotty substitute.

“Did you cut your hair?”

She gave him a quizzical look, raising an eyebrow. Maybe it was a compliment? He noticed something other than the quickest way to rip her shirt off this time. “I did, do you like it?”

“How many times have I told you not to change the way you look, Holly?”

His words were sharp as he sat on the edge of the bed, pulling on his jeans with a glare in her direction, it seemed neither of them would be able to finish tonight. She scrunched her nose up at his words. It wasn’t rare for him to be an asshole to her, in fact, it was becoming a much more common occurrence with the recent resistance pushback against the cult, but she still didn’t appreciate his tone.

“I don’t know why you’ve been so adamant about it lately. I wanted to try something new, what do you care?”

She scoffed as she stood up, letting the sheet fall off her body as she grabbed her shirt and underwear, pulling them on. John reached out and roughly grabbed her wrist, making her turn to look at him. He had never put a hand on her without them both being in the middle of John getting his rocks off in her bed or against her wall or vanity, and his sudden touch startled her.

Good, that’s what he wanted to see. The Pepper girl seemed to forget her place constantly, John was a Herald, she was just someone attractive he could see from time to time to release pent-up frustrations.

“You don't look like her anymore. Your hair frames your face differently now.”

Holly scoffed at him, pulling her wrist away from his reach. She never really cared about being more than a fling to him, she liked the distraction it gave her from the newfound loneliness she felt in this cottage and maybe sometimes she did wish he wouldn’t see someone else when he slept with her, that he wouldn’t moan someone else’s name when he fucked her, but she ultimately knew it would go nowhere with him. John Seed was a man obsessed with someone she couldn’t be.

“Who, the Deputy? Well, news flash, I’m not her.”

“I know you’re not, but it's not a crime for me to pretend, and you changing up your hair doesn’t fucking help the vision.”

“The vision.” She scoffed, crossing her arms at him. Her tone was one of mocking, like he was stupid for even dreaming she could fill the role of the one person he couldn’t have. No, because if it wasn’t her hair today then it would be her legs tomorrow, that they weren’t as toned as the Deputy’s, or that her eyes weren’t the right shade. It was constantly ‘Deputy this, Deputy that.’ But Holly Pepper wasn’t enough. “I think you should leave.”

“I’m gone.”

She didn’t have to convince him to rebutton his silk blue shirt or throw on his belt with the large ‘EG’ buckle on it. She didn’t need to persuade him to tie his boots and walk out her front door, into the cool Montana night, he simply left. Trekking down the dirt trail and getting into his car, he slammed the door shut and took off through the wooded back paths. He absolutely despised driving on anything other than the clearly marked main roads, especially when it was dark. He made special exceptions for the nights he went to visit Holly, but being that he didn’t finish, his anger was only elevated.

A truck passed, headlights shining into his windshield and honking as he swerved out of the way to avoid being hit, grumbling curses under his breath that he certainly would have to atone for later, but he would happily do it when he was back in the comfort of his warm, lavish ranch. The truck was the only other car on the road, and through his headlights, he could tell he was going the wrong way. Another curse, this time to himself, no way was he allowing himself to get lost in the middle of fucking nowhere redneck woods. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he pulled over to the nearest building he could find, a clinic. Silently, he hoped someone in there didn’t particularly hate him and would give him directions.

He pulled over with a huff, looking around his car for a map, and without seeing one, opened the door and got out, slamming it behind him. The evening air was cool, and unlike when he had left the Pepper residence, he was able to now take a breath and calm himself down. Though he doubted too many people were around at this time of night, he still wasn’t a fan of making a spectacle of himself when just trying to get directions. Gravel crunched underneath his boots as he made his way to the door, hand stopping just short of the handle as he heard a voice.

“I wouldn’t bother trying to get service right now.”

He didn’t need to turn to know who was speaking to him, he could feel the air still around him at the sound of her voice, the one person he hadn’t expected to see, not after he had falsely assumed he put the fear of god into her, not after he carved the sin out of her chest and forced her to display it for everyone who came across her. Her own personal scarlet letter, though this one being born of the crimson her blood was.

“Hello, Wrath. What are you doing here at this hour?”

He kept his tone friendly and light as he stepped over to the wall beside her, tilting his head down at her. She leaned against the brick, a cigarette hanging loosely from her lips as she watched him. He put on a facade, his silver tongue making a comeback as he spoke to her, though he knew well that she wouldn’t fall for his words. The best he could hope for was for her to relax slightly, to let him speak without drawing a weapon, and, at the lack of Peggies surrounding their ever-so-holy leader, she seemed to do just that.

“Just saw Nick and Kim off. Despite you and your peggies constant terror, it seems some good finally came to the Rye household.”

“Ah, so Kim delivered fine then?”

“Mmhm.”

“I should send a present, something for the little tyke.”

“Yeah right.” He earned a little laugh from her, even if it was sarcastic, he couldn’t help the small smirk that etched onto his features at her voice. Yes, John Seed was a man obsessed with someone he couldn’t have. “Kim told me you tried to convince everyone the baby was actually yours and not Nick’s.”

“I was just having some fun, they shouldn’t have taken it so seriously. Besides, that was months ago.” He shook his head, leaning back against the wall beside her, his goal of going to ask for directions now gone as he was in her presence. Despite his nature, she consumed his every waking moment. Every thought of his belonged to her, every word he spoke had her name etched onto it. He was pathetic.

“I’m sure it just added to the list of things you’ve done to fuck with them.” The Deputy rolled her eyes, amber ash falling from the head of the cigarette and onto the ground below them. He liked watching her supple lips part to welcome the taste of nicotine into her mouth.

“I’m a Herald, Deputy, everything I do is for the good of others.”

“Mm, remember the time you told me you’ve never lied to me?”

“Yes? What about it?”

“There's a lie right there.”

He smirked slightly, watching her with his deep blue eyes, and shook his head. He couldn’t help the way his heart fluttered in his chest at this moment. There was no chase, no cat and mouse game, just the two of them standing underneath the moonlight, with no one but god as their witness. “Well, what if I believe it's true?”

“Then you’re a liar and you’re delusional.” She hummed, looking back at him. There was a silence for a moment as she offered him her cigarette, a certain intimacy in his lips touching the filter where hers had before. He felt like a schoolboy again, though this time without the threat of his parents looming over him.

The crickets chirped around them as they took turns with the cigarette, it seemed to be a peaceful night. After a moment or two, she let him have the last of what was left in the bud and stepped forward towards her truck. Curiously, he stamped the cigarette out and followed after her.

“Where are you going?” He asked, sounding almost pathetic, like a puppy kicked away from the door his owner was walking out of. He craved this normalcy with her more than he thought he would, though part of him yearned to get back to the cat-and-mouse games.

“The Spread Eagle, probably. Gonna chase down the nicotine high with some of Mary May’s whiskey.” She shrugged as she opened the door to her truck, moving her AR-C aside and disturbing the indents of where Boomer always slept during long rides through the county.

He watched her body as she bent over to move her gun from the seat, how her hips swayed slightly. He bit his bottom lip slightly, his blue eyes never leaving her figure. Part of him yearned for his life before he reunited with Joseph. Maybe he wasn’t truly happy then, and maybe the Deputy incited withdrawals from him that he thought he had gotten over years ago, but alcohol sounded great right now.

“You seem so quick to leave my company. You’re always like this, I open my arms to you, let you into my bunker, and offer you atonement, but you’re always itching to leave. Do I make you uncomfortable?” He tilted his head as she stood up, turning to face the Herald once more.

He didn’t bother hiding the fact he had been staring at her ass for the better half of a minute, nor did her care about subduing his tone that was increasingly growing more and more lustful as he stepped closer to her. He wanted to feel her under his touch, to smell the gunpowder and blood that lingered on her. This time, it would really be the Deputy, he wouldn’t have to pretend.

“Let me into your bunker? Last time I checked you had your Peggies shoot me with bliss bullets and strap me to a chair there. You don’t exactly have a warm and welcoming nature, Seed.” She replied, crossing her arms slightly. He knew she was quickly losing her patience with him when she referred to him only by his last name.

“I just want you to reach atonement, Deputy. I want you to be better, for yourself, for the father.” His voice dropped to a whisper as he stepped closer to her, so close he could lean into her ear to speak. She grimaced slightly at the mention of the Father - Joseph.

“You don’t need to call him that, he’s your brother. And you shouldn’t speak to me about atonement, who gave you those marks on the back of your neck?”

He blinked a few times at her words, reaching his hand back to feel the indents that had been left. He hissed softly, of course, Holly had left marks without his say-so. She seemed to enjoy doing what he told her not to. Not to change her appearance so he could imagine it was the woman in front of him he was fucking, not to leave marks that he would have to explain to his followers - or worse, his brothers. But did she listen? No.

“Not you.”

Now it was the Deputy’s turn to be confused, her eyes fluttering up to meet his dark blue ones. She cocked her head to the side slightly, just enough to really examine him. He seemed confident in his words, but of course it wasn’t her, what was he trying to get out of this? “Yeah, obviously? Are you feeling okay, Seed?”

Again with the last name, it was starting to get on his nerves. He wanted nothing more than to grab her at this moment, to press her against the peeling upholstery of the old truck she drove around, to make her scream his name for everyone to hear - for her to call him not by a shared surname, but by his name. And suddenly he understood Adam and Eve, with a snake tempting him so sweetly, he’d be a fool not to take a bite of the apple, wouldn’t he?

“Why can’t you just say Yes, Deputy? Why do you have to make this so difficult? Why do you have to make me stoop into the sin you so freely roll around in?” He cocked his head to the side slightly, taking a step closer to her. His leg slid between hers as she pressed herself back against the side of the seat.

But she didn’t tell him no this time, she didn’t shove him off or slap him. He heard the breath that caught in her throat, he saw the way her eyes fluttered between his and the skin of his chest exposed by the undone buttons of his silk shirt. Sloth, written over his chest, crossed out. How would the scarred skin feel under her touch? How would the ink of the countless tattoos on his body be complimented by the scratches she would leave on him?

“You don’t need the ego boost, the day I say yes to a monster like you is the day my dignity dies.” Oh the Deputy, always a fighter. He would help her with that, gladly, a burial inside the truck for only John and God himself to witness. A small smirk played on his face as his hands trailed over her hips, a ghost of a touch but enough to ignite a fire in her eyes.

He wouldn’t need her to say yes, she would be screaming it by the time he was done. He would drag orgasm and orgasm out of her till her atonement was spelled in the arousal that would coat the truck's upholstery. He would make a saint out of her yet, make the only words that fall from her lips holy and pure till they were alone. She would never have to worry about the bullets that grazed her skin or the wounds that marked her flesh, he would wash away her sins.

So many dirty thoughts from the Herald, but he couldn’t control himself now. His hands belonged to the devil as they trailed up from her hips, one caressing her neck - which he would make sure to have covered with as many marks as he could by the time he was done with her - and the other slipping beneath her shirt. He tilted his head down at her, smug yet coy as his fingertips brushed the wire band of her bra, yet another barrier between the two.

Her eyes weren’t on him, though. They studied elsewhere, fixed on the door to the clinic and the road. What would others say if they saw the two together? Sharky and Adelaide had to have been just joking when they said she should get with the youngest Seed brother - that it would save the resistance’s ass. She bit her inner cheek, doubting that that would be the truth. John Seed was a sadistic monster who reveled in other's pain and suffering, but something about his touch made her want to melt.

“There’s nothing but me to look at, Deputy. For right now, you’re mine.”

If John was a man obsessed with someone he couldn’t have, the Deputy was cut from the same cloth. She couldn’t have him, not really, even if she accepted his atonement, even if he cut the sin from her body - John Seed would always be obsessed with an idea of her, she was his greatest conquest because she never said yes to him, and if she stopped fighting he would lose interest.

But tonight, under nothing but the moonlight and the roof of her truck? Tonight, she could have him.

So she didn’t protest when he stepped into her more, when he pushed her back against the worn seat and kissed her neck with the fervor of a man starved. She said nothing because her breathing spoke for her, the way it picked up and became laced with soft whimpers as he grazed his teeth over an old scar. Yes, he relished in her pain, he couldn’t help but smile at her burning in the cleansing fire of his love.

His fingers tangled in her hair, pulling it back to expose her neck. He sat up over top of her, a small smirk playing on his face as he looked down at her. She looked so pathetic under him, her neck colored in flushed pink and dark red, a product of him. He trailed a hand down over the forming hickeys, pressing his fingertips against the sides of her neck. Not enough to choke her, but enough for her to part her pretty lips to breathe through her mouth.

The Herald reveled in the power he had over her, her life balancing in the palm of his hand. It would be far too easy to kill her now, to make up for the anger he felt every time a silo was blown up or an outpost was overtaken. How easy everything would be if she gave her life force over to him, cutting the head off the snake that was the resistance.

But it was far more fun to keep her alive, to toy with her like a cat would a mouse, to shed her of her shirt and unclasp her bra and run his tongue against her sensitive, budding nipple. To relish in the sounds of her soft whines that overtook her breathing, to feel her fingers tangle in his slicked-back raven hair.

“Fuck.”

An understatement, her words breathy and sweet, as if she was reciting a prayer meant only for his ears. His blue eyes fluttered to look up at her, enjoying the way she looked down at him, lust building on her features. She would atone for him, but not with her words.

He trailed down her body, lips catching on every old scar and bullet wound, every imperfection left on her beautiful body. She would be cleansed of all of these when he was done with her, she would be born anew with him right by her side. His fingers caught on the waistband of her jeans, dirtied with blood and grass stains on the knees, not proper attire for her baptism, so he shed those from her as well.

Left in only her underwear, shivering against the cold that seeped into the truck, she looked down at him with a frown, grazing over the silk of his blue shirt. He was overdressed, though he made no moves to match her. With his head in line with her pelvis, he grasped the fingers that worked on his buttons, giving her a pointed look which she matched with a soft whine.

“Deputy.”

“John - c'mon, it's not fair…”

“I’ll decide what's fair and what’s not. When I want it to come off, it will. For now, hands off.”

A sigh left her lips but she complied with him, letting go of the buttons he wore and instead focusing on him as he moved lower, as his fingers trailed over the growing wetness seeping through her underwear. She recoiled slightly, feeling the cold of his fingers through the warm fabric, and was met only by a soft tsk from John.

He watched her, studied every reaction as he slipped off the last remaining article of clothing that blocked him from getting a full view of her. She was something out of an oil painting, crafted by God specifically for him. How had he gotten so lucky that she was his rival? How had they both gotten to this point, surely from the tensions built every time he would kidnap her, when he would clean her chest with a sponge to prepare for the marking he hadn’t gotten around to doing quite yet.

Grazing over her folds, catching her clit in his grasp, he relished in the sounds that the truck filled with. Soft gasps giving way to needy moans as he gathered her slick and coated his fingers in it. His eyes hungry as he peered up at her through his eyelashes, tongue swiping over her once and then twice before spitting. Her fingers tangled in his hair harshly as he pushed a finger inside before it was quickly joined by a second, humming when greeted by how tight her walls were.

“Funny, I expected you to have more experience.” He grinned, his perfect snake in the garden, reaping what she had sown. John had earned every hitch of her breath, every noise that fell from her lips belonged to him. Patience is a virtue, after all.

“Kinda ha-h… hard to get some privacy when you’re the resista- fuck!”

He couldn’t help but smirk as she was interrupted by the curling of his fingers, brushing against a certain bundle of nerves as he stretched her out in preparation for his cock. He hummed in response, teasing her. How sweet it was to have the big bad Deputy be putty in his hands. John absolutely adored the fact that he was her only in a long time, it stroked his ego lovingly.

When he was satisfied with the moans that fell from her lips and how she could hardly focus on anything other than the sensations he was providing her, he pulled out. Chuckling at a needy moan she gave him at the feeling of emptiness, he licked the coating of her slick from his fingers, tsking and looking down at her.

“Patience, Deputy. Be a good girl.” Once his fingers were properly cleaned and the taste of her arousal was set on his tongue nicely, he unbuckled his pants and allowed them to pool at his ankles, his lips fluttering over her exposed neck while he worked on pulling his shirt off.

Perfect tattoos decorated his body like the ceiling of a temple, each one telling a different story. John Seed was a man who had his life mapped out on each limb, allowing for her to trace all of him, to know all of him. He pulled away from her neck, bullying his two fingers past her lips and having her suck on them, tasting herself.

He focused on the way she sucked, how soft moans escaped her, and how her eyes fluttered closed, content to have this soft moment. God, he wanted to ruin it for her. He did not pull away yet, not as he ran the head of his hardened cock over her folds, precum mingling with her own fluids. When he did pull his fingers away from her, he made sure she watched as he lubed himself up with her saliva.

He could’ve come at the sharp gasp elicited from her as he pushed inside, inch by inch till he bottomed out and she was left in a state of bliss. He groaned softly at how perfect she was, how her walls were practically made for him, dragging every noise from his lips. The Deputy never thought she’d see the day when John Seed was moaning for anyone - especially not her. She considered herself lucky that the Herald was coming undone simply by the feeling of her.

Though, her smugness faded as he began to move. Shallow thrusts at first that were quickly replaced by deep, rhythmic movements. His mouth latched onto her neck once more, his teeth dragging over her soft skin in an effort to leave his bite markings against her pretty flesh. Her nails drug against his back, sharp, stinging scrapes that complimented the dark ink of his tattoos well. He never let others mark him as she had, but she was special - he would be proud to show off what she left on him.

Her legs wrapped against his waist, pulling him impossibly deeper inside her. She was practically screaming in his ear, the truck shaking with his movements. Thrust after thrust, he abused her G-spot well, toes curling and legs trembling in his wake. She pistoned her hips up to meet his, arching her back and letting him latch onto her breasts now.

“You gonna cum f’me?” He groaned out, blue eyes focused on how she shook, how her walls clenched around him at his words. She was close, teetering on the edge, and he wasn’t far behind her. Her nods weren’t good enough, neither were the little noises she attempted to choke out between her moans. No, he wanted to hear her speak. “Use your words.”

“Yes! Fuck - yes please-” Manners and all, he grinned at her response. He had gotten her to say it, just as he knew he would. That allusive ‘yes’ he had been waiting far too long to hear. He really couldn’t help himself now as a tattooed hand moved from her hips to rub her swollen clit.

Thrusts becoming sloppier and sloppier, if this was heaven the Deputy was more than happy to atone for it. Her legs spasmed slightly, walls clenching around him as white toyed at her eyes, orgasm crashing down against him. It didn’t take much longer for him to follow suit, his own cum mixing with hers, white beading at the base of his cock as he pressed himself inside her, having her take him all.

She whined softly, panting and looking up at him with those pretty eyes of hers. His breath was heavy, fingers running through her hair as they both caught their breath, inevitable guilt creeping up in the Deputy’s chest. John Seed was the enemy, he was a monster, and she had just let him fuck her into the best orgasm of her life. Stupid, stupid.

But John, he seemed far too proud of himself. He didn’t need her to say anything anymore, he didn’t need the taped confession for his older brother. No, now he had this, her atonement that coated his softening cock. He would always have this over her, how she screamed yes for him, and she seemed to realize that.

“You know - that ‘yes’ doesn’t count.”

“Oh? Should I make you say it again?��

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