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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?”

#john seed x female deputy #john seed #john seed x deputy #john seed x reader #far cry 5

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moonliteve · 11 months

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tfw you're sent to stop a doomsday cult but you are not immune to four very charming and sexy people

#my silly deputy milo's debut!!!#he's scared and confused all the time 😭 save him #far cry 5 #far cry 5 fanart #fc5 #joseph seed #john seed #jacob seed #faith seed #jess black #nick rye #joseph seed x deputy #john seed x deputy #jacob seed x deputy #faith seed x deputy #i want fc5 mutuals………cries #pls be my friend im very harmless #oc: miroslav radojevic #my art

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evilvvithin · 9 months

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silent despair

pairing : john seed x reader (i wrote it as f!deputy!reader but it turned out to be gn too) warnings : blood and injury | implied sex but not detailed | love hate | possessiveness word count: 2,497 summary: What would happen if John was the one to survive the collapse? ➤ AO3 link | masterlist

In the first moments of coming back to your senses, the mix of strong cologne and smoke hit your nose. The air seemed heavy, almost hard to breathe and you felt like suffocating. Taking a deep breath, a sharp pain shot through your ribs and made you yelp out in surprise. "Finally," a familiar voice filled the silence and ringed inside your aching head. Stars danced at the edges of your vision as you tried to sit up. As if a restless swarm of bees was inside your skull, causing it to vibrate uncomfortably. Arms and legs numb you had to look down at your limbs to make sure they were really moving when you told them to. They weren't. Your hands handcuffed to the metal leg of the bunk bed, you tried to wrestle against them with no luck. "Still eager to fight despite your situation, I see. Some things about you never change, deputy."

You felt venom in his voice, anger, hidden behind his kind and peaceful mask he called a face. He smiled widely as he walked towards you, squatting down to your level.

"Where-"

"Shhh sh sh."

His eyes piercing through you, fingers trailing the handcuffs, the stupid smile on his face. The time stopped and your eyes gazed down to his shirt which used to be blue. Just like his eyes. Now it was almost completely covered in dried blood. Pushing away the thoughts of kicking your knee into his stomach for tying you up, you wondered what had happened, looking around the room you were in for any clues.

He noticed how you calmed down, how your eyes jumped across his chest and the walls behind him. Looking for his bunker key at his now bruised chest. Pulling out another key from his pocket, he freed your hands but grabbed your wrists immediately, squeezing them painfully. You hissed in reaction, but got the message - don't do anything stupid. You didn’t even plan to. You just wanted to know what happened as your own memory was failing you due to its fogginess. Checking your ribs for any wounds or source of the pain you felt after waking up, a loud explosion deafened you and the whole room started to vibrate, dust falling down from the ceiling. There was your answer to what happened. The pictures of mushroom cloud, fire and death blinked through your head. All the screaming, pain… your friends…

"The collapse," John looked up, the same smile on his face still. "Joseph was right, you know? He knew the whole time… my brother…"

The mask of the baptist started to fade away - he didn't have to pretend anymore. The smile slowly disappeared as his whole expression hardened, jaws clenched. His eyes glowing with rage, but there was something else.

Sadness. Softness.

Cursing through gritted teeth, he grabbed you by the edge of your shirt and forced you up against the wall, hand squeezing your throat right after.

"You killed them. If only you listened to them! We could’ve been - “

The pressure built up in your head from the lack of air and vision started to blur, yet you didn't try to fight his hand.

"Doesn’t matter. Tell me one reason I shouldn't do the same to you!"

His voice was calm but still sounded like a yell to you. You started to half laugh half cough, making his eyebrows furrow even more in fury. He was killing you with his gaze, not his hands. In his mind his hands squeezed your throat hard. Knuckles on his hand white, he’d release the grasp so you could catch a single breath just to cut your wind pipe again.

Oh, he would do so many things to you.

"Why didn't you? Before?" You coughed. "You had so many chances."

He sighed and let go of you by throwing you further into the wall, though not so aggressively as before to kick air out of your lungs. You knew he had the reply, knew why he didn't kill you when he had the chance. But he wouldn't admit it.

Would you? Would you admit why you didn’t kill him when you had so many chances?

John knew well you chose to hunt his siblings down rather than him. Playing cat and mouse, but both of you were the cat. Lots of unfulfilled threats that led only to one thing - the collapse. You being stuck with him in a bunker underground.

The longer you tried to keep standing against the wall, the more your muscles burned. The desire to lay down, close your eyes again and forget about everything again was overwhelming but you were determined to not show any kind of weakness. Your coughing and laughing filled the room. Have you lost your mind? Are you really gonna be down here with John? It wasn’t like you could change it.

You didn’t want to.

The shirt started to stick to your skin where you felt the sharp pain before. Your fingers felt the wetness when touching it and you didn't have to look down to know what it was.

"Come."

Following John to the table across the room, you were sure your legs would fail you any step you took. He was watching you - was it a concerned look you saw on his face? Your blurry vision playing tricks on you?

He was in fact concerned, watching every step of yours ready to grab your arm for support whenever you were about to fall. He didn't want you to know, he didn't want you to see his soft side. Not yet. He liked to believe he had none except for his brothers - he was lying to himself the whole life. He always had a soft side, buried deep inside him. Abandoned by his choice. Softness had no place in the life he lived before Eden’s Gate. No place in Eden’s Gate. It was a weakness and he locked everything making him weak deep inside.

Till you showed up and made him weak. Vulnerable. He hated you for it, but at the same time admired you. You were untamed, wild fire that could make him both weak and strong and he realized rather quickly that capturing you like the others would not help him get stronger, no. You required a different approach. Approach that he thought he would never be able to do - to have feelings for someone, to feel vulnerable.

The mutual feelings of you two, the connection of your souls and leadership - that’s what he visioned in his dreams. How perfect you two would be for Eden’s gate. At first, it seemed like a great plan, but the further John tried to make you join him, the more he started to care about you. Did he care about you more than about the project? No, he would never… He doubted himself in that question. Nevertheless he’d make everything work in the end. And he did, without even trying to.

Grabbing bandages out of the emergency box, he waited for you to raise your shirt enough to expose the cut. Starting at your ribcage going down your belly, it wasn't deep but it was bleeding a lot.

"Just do it quick."

Swallowing your pride, you let him circle you, touch you, wrapping the bandage all around your torso. Feeling his warm touch on your bare skin, you never realized how soft his hands could be. You believed all they could inflict was pain and torture.

"Want it harder?"

The stupid smile on his face.

"Fuck you, John."

~~~

"You'll get us both killed!" John hissed and caught your hand that tried to steal the bunker key from his neck. He started to wear it with him at all times since you found the spot where he hid it. And he was way more alert during sleeping than you thought.

Saving your life and you still tried to get away from him, still fought him. Still… after all the days you two spent in close proximity. Or was it weeks? He liked it at times though. It spiced things a bit here under the ground, but he'd still rather receive obedience from you. Just like his followers in Hope County… but you weren't one of them. The knuckles whitened on his hand and you squinted as his grip became painful. The harder he held your wrist, the more you squeezed the key in your hand being as stubborn as you were usually, refusing to let go of it.

"Go then, do as you want."

You almost lost balance and fell down at his chest when he released your hand. The tone of his voice was vile but the sparkle of hope that shined in your eye overcame everything else. You looked down at the key and hope was quickly replaced with a darker feeling - reality. John scoffed and murmured something to himself as the key landed back on his chest.

You didn't want to die. Not today at least.

~~~

Warm breeze locked the naked skin of your upper body. The blanket must've slid down while you were sleeping.

A breeze of fresh air… in a bunker?

John's fingertips trailed up and down your arm softly, thinking he was gentle enough to not wake you up. His movements were slow, lazy. Your heartbeat raised a little and you hoped it wouldn't reveal you were awake. Your back turned to him, you laid still and your breath was shallow. His breath was warm against your skin. He seemed to be murmuring something to himself but you couldn't make a single word out. He was humming some kind of melody.

All kinds of scenarios rushed through your head when he pulled the edge of your shirt down your shoulder. Pretend to be asleep no matter what? Then you'd be allowing whatever he planned on doing. Jump up and slap the soul out of him? Maybe, but you wouldn't know what he wanted to do… and mainly, why.

Did you want him to stop?

Did you want him to know you were awake?

The adrenaline rushed through your body as your mind was filling up with certain scenarios, making you change position in an attempt to hide it. John's hand retrieved and his murmuring stopped. You felt his gaze boring into the side of your head. Leaning closer to your face, his hot breath tickled your ear. If you turned around, you could taste his lips easily. Before you could do something you might regret later, the weight on the bed behind you disappeared as John walked away, silent like a cat.

You were left alone with your cheek and ear burning, the gentle touch of his fingers still printed on your skin. It's been so long since you experienced any kind of intimacy, kindness in general. Past few months were nothing but an exhausting fight for your life and the lives of the other members of resistance. The few joyful moments that occurred? You were too tired to appreciate and enjoy them fully. Cursing yourself you didn't do anything when John was creeping above you, you played with the scenarios in your head for as long as sleep didn't take your consciousness away.

~~~

"What did you do to Hudson?!" Blood was coming out of your mouth from John's punch, but the rage you felt numbed all possible pain. "You bastard!"

Him and his typical maniac smile.

Everytime you two met before the collapse and fought each other, he had this smile on his face whenever you could've ended him. Laughing. Not really fighting you back. Almost like he wanted to die… or he didn't care if he did at least. Or he knew you couldn't kill him. He knew it and laughed at the absurd power he had over you. You hated him for it, you hated him because he was right.

"Hudson's gone now anyway, isn't she? What's all this about, then?"

Clenching your fists around the edge of his coat, half choking him with the fabric cutting into his throat, you stopped in your rage for long enough to think about what he said. You hated to admit it but he was right.

He seemed to always be right.

Things that happened before the collapse? They were all meaningless now. What really mattered was this bunker, you, him and the danger levels outside. Were you truly angry about what he did to Hudson or did you just want a reason to start a fight with him? Did he want to start a fight when he told you, out of nowhere?

Taunting, teasing, getting expected reactions from others just to remind himself he has power over them. Power to manipulate through emotions. Maybe he truly believed he was emotionless and nothing bothered him except his family - he lied to himself the whole time. He cared too much about you. He could've had you at any time before. Yet he didn't take you, no. He didn't want to take you, he wanted you to need him. To desire him. Give up to him.

John grabbed your wrists to make you let go of his coat, his face unchanged. The smile… he won. He had all the reasons to smile - you were here with him, craving him, needing to feel the warmth of his body. The burst of emotions. There was no need to say it out loud. Letting your arms go limp in his hands, you leaned closer to his face.

"Fuck you, John."

Raising one of his eyebrows, the smile only grew bigger.

"That's exactly what I was thinking," he let your hands go and pulled you closer by the back of your neck.

You let yourself fall into the kiss - like a boat going down the river you didn't try to go against the stream at all. You still hated him but what you felt for him was growing stronger. Something you could not define with simple words. The iron taste of your blood filled your mouth and your tongue found his. The taste was somewhat hypnotizing, driving you further into the kiss.

The satisfied grunt from John didn't surprise you a bit. You had an idea he'd like the taste of blood. That it'd turn him on. Violence in general. You heard the stories about Hudson and other Falls End people that managed to escape his bunker. You were there yourself after all, you spent more time with him than you'd like to imagine.

It was all your choice - to let him live every time, let him get close to you. Let yourself fall for him. Let your lust win.

As the clothes on you both fell down to the ground piece by piece, you weren't bothered by the chilling air. You were on fire, you both were. Fire that needed to be put down and only one way of doing so. Everything about it was rough. Maybe you were still trying to kill each other but then decided not to, over and over again.

Hate and anger being overcome by love and lust and it made you want to get lost in the moment forever. Get lost in John.

Your fingertips copied the edges of his scars, his skin still rough on touch from all the bruises that didn’t heal yet. The moans resonating within the thick concrete walls sounded like they were miles away from you - silenced by you replaying all your past choices that led you to this moment.

Your nails clawed into one of his fresh scars causing John to whimper in both pain and pleasure. You didn’t do it on purpose. He knew. He felt the same joy, the same pleasure as you causing him to twitch and grasp onto you uncontrollably. It was like an out of body experience - like a bottle being constantly filled with water for years before finally overflowing and exploding. Exploding and being free.

You both were finally naked in front of each other - no more lying about your feelings, no more hiding of your thoughts. No secrets.

Bruises forming on the soft skin of your neck where John buried his head into, the sweat of your bodies becoming one. The jolts of pleasure shooting through your body, heavy panting, trembling.

"I haven't forgiven you, John."

"I know."

#far cry 5 #far cry #john seed #john seed x deputy #john seed x reader #john seed x female deputy #x reader #fanfiction #far cry 5 fanfiction

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seedofjoseph · 1 year

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The Beer & The Baptist

(link)

#far cry 5 #john seed #john seed x deputy #john seed x female deputy #the deputy #deputy rook #I spent waaay too much time #on this shitpost #not that I didn't have fun #working on it winded me down before bed #WHY DOES TUMBLR KEEP MESSING UP THE QUALITY OF MY MEDIA #?#fanart #my art

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iwantjohnsseed · 10 months

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Currently toying with the idea of making a John Seed centric Discord server because Tumblr groupchats don't exist anymore and that's usually what I'd do to have somewhere to direct the character brainrot... So anyways if even like 2-3 people are interested I'll do it. I prefer small servers anyways.

(And like every other chat/server I've ever made, this would be an 18+ only space.)

If interested, PLS COMMENT on this post or DM me!

#the brainrot is getting too real again and as much as i love to obsess over all the characters i just always come back to john particularly #thats my emotional support sadistic cringefail loserman #john seed #farcry 5 #far cry 5 #john seed core #fc5 john seed #farcry 5 john seed #fc5 #john seed x reader #john seed x deputy #john seed gifs #john seed x oc #psybreposting

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inafieldofdaisies · 5 months

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Character Inspiration | John Seed x Sabrina Donovan

#too cute not to share <3 #oc: sabrina donovan #ship: the diviner and the baptist #wip: in hope of tomorrow #john seed x female deputy #john seed x deputy #john x sabrina #john seed x sabrina donovan #character inspiration #myedits #character reference #fc5 deputy #far cry 5 deputy #ship dynamics #john seed

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englass · 1 year

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Plains and Valleys

Pairing(s): John Seed x Deputy/Reader

Warning(s): John is his own warning; Possessive/Obsessive Behaviour; John being creepy; Stalking; kind-of Crack, this isn’t taken all that seriously; Not Beta’d; Experimental Piece; NSFW/Explicit, my first (and likely only) attempt at smut -- please kindly let me know if there’s anything else I should warn of here, I don’t know what I’m doing.

Word Count: 4,020

A/N(s): The title is basically a placeholder for while I was writing this because I had no idea what to name it... and truly, I can’t be asked to think of something better for a piece that only exists to see if I can write smut (spoilers: I can’t, but I’m not letting a completed piece rot away in my docs just because I’m embarrassed; I worked and spent time on this damnit!).

On another note, I was gonna just give this piece over as my contribution to WIP day that @derelictheretic was kind enough to tag me in, but decided against it. I’ll post a proper response and WIP later this week or next, so bear with me please hun! Just wanted to get this out there first.

- - -

John had a problem.

Well, he had many problems. Not least of all his growing frustration at the continued resistance from the Fairgraves' in his pursuit for the deed to their ‘establishment’. He also had been unable to play with Affirmation as regularly as he would have liked, so that put him in an even fouler mood than usual. And he wasn't going to even think about the stress he was starting to feel with his brother constantly breathing down his neck; always questioning his actions as though he were a child constantly getting into trouble and needing twenty-four hour monitoring, always asking after the progress of things that take time. A lot of time.

John may have a substantial amount of money at his disposal, but that does not mean he can work miracles.

Not all of the time, at least.

And his problems don’t stop there, oh no. Despite what many likely thought of him (and what a stroke to his ego that is, knowing that people think of him) John was well aware of his problems, his faults. He’d spent a lot of time getting intimate with them, after all; and every now and again they'd crop up like daisies, weeding their way to the surface yet again. He’d become rather good at managing them, if he said so himself, but even John wasn’t perfect (he was damn close to it though, as many would agree). And one fault he hadn’t quite been able to trim back was his tendency to fixate on things; obsess.

He obsesses over his plane, over its upkeep and maintenance, its flight records, the slightest scratch that wasn't there the day before-- how the fuck did that get there!?

He obsesses over the details on the manifestos he’s given, the contracts he’s made, dates and times for resource collection, rotations, their members' personal records (he denies having those), PR management, expenditures and everything in between.

He obsesses over his home, the décor, the colours and lighting, materials used, the whole aesthetic. How he presents himself, the clothes and brands he wears (it’s vain but he needs those creature comforts), his posture, his presence, his overall look that creates an identity that just screams nothing but John.

He obsesses over things.

He knows he does. It’s a faulty blessing.

And he has found something new to obsess over.

John has had a few run-ins with the local Deputies of Hope County in the past. Mostly Joey Hudson, delightful as she is, but ordinarily he doesn’t think too much of them. After all, he’s untouchable and they all know it. There’s no reason to worry about them, let alone waste his precious free time (what little he gets of it) thinking about them. They’re insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Nothing but an inconvenience, an annoyance at most. Completely irrelevant.

But then he saw her.

Standing there, innocuous, looking out at something (for something? Nothing?) in the distance.

There’s a hitch, the catch of a stilted breath.

Where they were keeping her hidden he has no idea, but he is taken the moment he catches that rogue glance of her.

And, strangely, he doesn't know why.

Sure, John and his brothers have been in this County for a good while now and he has never seen her before, so it’s perfectly normal for him to be curious about the unfamiliar face in town. Nothing wrong with that, it’s innocent enough.

Except there’s everything wrong with that.

Because that’s not it.

He can’t even blame his wandering eyes on her appearance; she’s wearing that drab uniform that even a charity shop wouldn’t take, and it does nothing to enhance whatever natural beauty she may have hidden underneath it. Although, the girl-next-door look she gives off is begrudgingly cute (if he dared to utter the word unironically).

Honestly, she’s not the type of woman that he typically would have paid any special attention to back in his lawyer days. Fucked her stupid maybe, for the extra notch in his bedpost, but he likely wouldn’t have taken her number or thought too much about her afterwards. Relegated to just another lay in a long line of bed partners that he doesn’t remember all the names of.

To be blunt, she isn’t anything special.

And maybe that’s part of the appeal, what hooks him in. Because she is different; unassuming and uncomplicated, modest to a point of simplicity. And yet there is something about her that he can’t actively see or name from his spot across the street that has drawn him in without even trying. And he doesn’t know what or why.

It’s as infuriating as it is intriguing.

Perhaps there is some iota of truth in what Joseph had said to him a while ago, John supposed silently to himself at the time: the simplest of things can be beautiful, in their own unconventional ways.

Although his brother could have said as much with far less words, verses, and vague allusions to a potential future that might never be-- a spark of sudden change that sets a new course in motion; scales tipped by the most consuming of emotions; scorched by a soul so deceptively unremarkable that no one would have thought to believe just how uniquely special they would become--

…

……

… Huh…

John creates a special slot in his increasingly hectic schedule just for her from then on out.

He goes out of his way to find more reasons to harass and bother the local population, all in a fruitless attempt to get lucky and have her answer their call for aid and come and tell him what a bad boy he’s being. (Annoyingly she never turns up, though.)

He makes calls and pulls some strings to the businesses he’s procured, makes inquiries to anyone that would listen to him, including those doing menial tasks or even going through their Atonement (they don’t understand the relevancy of his questioning and he may have been a little harsher with them than he should’ve been because of it), and all in the name of his personal investigation into her.

After all, he had argued to himself in front of a cork board covered with documents and pictures of her with a feverish flavour, what sort of Herald would he be if he didn't know everything about everyone living in his-- their, his and his brothers, soon-to-be County?

His invasive and not completely legal search into this new Deputy (and she is new it turns out, freshly transferred in fact) goes on for a full, nonstop month before -- during one of his totally-random-and-not-planned stops into town -- he discovers something else about her.

When he first saw his Deputy (and doesn’t that feel good to say) she was alone, leaning against the wooden beam of the Sheriff’s Department’s porch and staring out into the distant fields; the late afternoon sun haloing her figure in its golden warmth, its light making the colour of her eyes blaze bright and her hair shine silkily. The perfect picture of ease.

This time, when he finally manages to spy another in-person look at her, he finds that she has company. She’s standing next to the ever friendly Hudson, posture held strong by an understated confidence and arms casually crossed beneath her bust, an amused smile on her decidedly pretty face as Hudson talks animatedly about something that he can’t hear.

And she’s looking up at her.

John blinks, and blinks again.

He’s definitely seen her file, he even remembers glossing through her medical records (which he would most assuredly deny having if anyone asked), so he knows how tall she is. But for some reason it apparently hadn’t quite registered to him until now what that would look like in a physical comparison between the two of them.

He knows that the lovely Hudson is a couple of inches shorter than him, not too far off from meeting him eye-to-eye. His Deputy, from what he can see, is about a full head shorter than Hudson. Which would put her, what, roughly just about eye-to-chest with him...?

He thinks about it. Thinks about her next to him, imagines what that would look like. Thoughts surprisingly innocent as he wonders after clichés of reaching for something that she can’t reach, of cocooning her in his arms as he effortlessly wrangles her into his lap. Envisions the domesticity of easily resting his head on top of hers as he holds her from behind, slotting himself into the mould of her figure like matching puzzle pieces, perfectly meant to be and belong…

A high pitched, shaky sound slips free at the mental reel.

It’s not a secret the type of life that John used to live. He has been with numerous types of women, something he used to take a great deal of pride in, and has indulged in and explored his fair share of kinks in the comfort of expensive silk sheets. But who would have guessed that the former playboy, John Duncan now John Seed, would have a thing for domestic bliss.

Or rather, domestic bliss with little. ol’. her.

John makes the executive decision then and there to talk to his Deputy as soon as possible. Preferably alone. Without interference.

It feels like forever before he gets the opportunity.

A week later, on a daily walk through Falls End that has only admittedly become a thing in order to check up on the lucky woman of his blazing affections (I am not stalking her, Jacob, he had grounded out menacingly to his accusing older brother over Sunday dinner; who proceeded to look on at John with a slow quirk of an eyebrow), he finds his ever elusive Deputy resting around the corner of the Sheriff’s Department’s building. Eyes closed, head down, arms crossed, and safely concealed in the shade; unsuspectingly calm in her desired time alone.

And John is quick to ruin it.

He can’t help himself, he really can’t. The opportunity is here and he would be remiss to let it pass him by.

Even if she does look rather serene.

He's seen a few photos of her, more than a few actually-- albums worth even, so he knows what she looks like up close. He even printed one out (it’s a favourite of his, a near perfect replica of the first time he saw her) and has it framed on his bedside table; but it turns out no amount of photos quite do the real her justice.

The closer he gets to her the more he notices how petite she is, how the loose yet deceptively form-fitting hug of her bland uniform subtly accentuates the curves and slopes of her modest figure; the daintiness of her fingers as they rest against the exposed, smooth skin of her arms; that familiar magnetic draw snapping to life in the colour of her eyes as they lazily open, sparkling as he gets closer and she looks up at him, wide and wondering.

Innocent.

Oh, he was so wrong about her, he realises wondrously. Did her such a disservice in his initial judgement of her all those weeks ago. She is far from average.

And being here in front of her, close enough to touch, to be able to easily reach out and trap her against the wall and between his arms if he so wanted to, safely protected under the cage of his form -- her neck craning back in order to comfortably gaze up at him, meeting his eyes as he stares down at her…

It makes something inside him go wild.

John lays the charm on quick and swift, hand attractively running through his hair as a practised but handsome smile lights up his face, eyes twinkling through his lidded gaze with an aweing hunger he knows he is failing to keep hidden.

Getting the first word in, he leans close to the wall, not quite putting his full weight against it (his shirt was expensive) but close enough to allow him a moment of privacy with her by limiting her field of view to only him. Blocking out everyone-- everything else with his taller frame (and doesn’t that thought spark a sudden twitch of interest) as he eagerly monopolises her attention.

Daringly he edges further into her space while he talks ardently to her, truly basking in the unexpected pleasure he gets in watching her unintentionally baring her neck to him; being so beautifully submissive for him without consciously realising it. Amusement colouring his tone in pale notes as he watches the way her pretty eyes darken and narrow at his progressive disturbance and invasion of her time and space.

Fuck. He didn’t know it would be this intoxicating to be so close to her.

Even as he dances through conversation with playful words and hinting remarks, becomes enamoured by the soothing intonation of her voice as she is dragged along with guarded comments and wary retorts, he can’t stop the way his mind ever so sinfully wanders…

It really would be so easy to have her up against this wall. To crowd her in with his frame on all sides and her vision filled with nothing but him. The centre of her universe and attention, him; and his hers. The concept of that sort of all-encompassing intimacy and devotion makes John shudder. Hungry all the more for it and the woman that has unknowingly given him a taste of what it could all be and become, of what that level of pure, unadulterated want is inspiring in him.

He could easily have her against this wall. Have her looking directly skyward up at him as if he were her moon and stars, as he looks directly down at her-- his entire world and more.

Snatch her thigh and hoist it up towards his waist. Have her balancing precariously on the tips of her toes and clutching desperately at him, trusting John to help hold and support her and keep her steady as he shields her from the world around them. Hides her away from the unworthy just as the unworthy have hidden her away from him. His lips sweetly latching onto hers, her taste finally on his tongue after all these weeks of wanting, involuntarily grounding his hips into hers as a desperate sound breaks within his throat.

Oh, John can visualise it now: the two of them breathing in each other's air, bodies flush as he tugs and pushes closer, her shirt riding up as it's snagged by the rough brickwork at her back, arching into him on an unsteady foot to escape its harsh bite. Teeth nipping teasingly at her lips and tongue licking moreishly into her mouth as his free hand roams down her stomach, pulls the rest of her shirt loose and fumbles in his eagerness with the buttons of her jeans, yanking the zipper down and shoving his hand below the waistband and into her underwear. Hearing her whine sweetly into his mouth as he feels just how wet she is for him, how much she wants him and how eagerly she welcomes him into her as he plunges his fingers into her slick cunt with a needy and quaking moan of his own.

Would she want it quick and rough? His fingers thrusting knuckle deep as he presses tight circles to her throbbing clit, teeth at her throat as he claws into her thigh held tightly in the dip of his waist. Listening to how her moans get higher, her breathing gets quicker, turning into desperate little gasps before he tugs his fingers free of her; lips devouring hers in quick apology as he battles to pull his aching cock free, cursing lowly against her lips as his slick covered fingers slip on the metal of his belt. She’d help him, he knows she would -- such a good girl --, nipping and kissing him back with wanton sounds as she bats his hand away, revelling in the noises he makes for her -- only for her, only ever for her -- as she pulls him free; rolling her hips until his cock catches on her slit and he’s thrusting home into her.

Only then -- while feeling her walls flex around him, mouth hanging open as they both bask in finally, finally being so intimately connected to one another -- would he finally hike her other leg up to wrap fully around his waist, fully supporting her weight and driving himself deeper into her, one of his arms coming up to press into the wall beside her, hand caringly slipping behind her head; bracketing her in. Shivering as her breath warms his neck and she cries out for him.

And considering her height… fuck, he can only imagine just how tight she’d be for him, chocking his cock as she squeezes him, milking him for all he’s worth until his teeth are stained red against her lovingly maimed neck. His hips snapping into hers with a guttural growl, panting sensual snarls of encouragement into her ear as he demands and begs in equal measure that she touch herself for him, dexterous fingers chasing her end as he chases his own until-- she’s coming around him with a high and shuddery keen. Her soft walls sucking him deeper into her, legs locking tighter around his waist and keeping him there as he spills himself into the back of her hot cunt with a strangled moan. Claiming her as his as he presses in closer, plugging her full with his cock and cum and praying that it’ll take--

…

……

… Huh.

He will definitely be exploring that at a later date…

Or perhaps she wouldn’t want it like that. Wouldn’t want him to be so rough and careless with her. Maybe she would want him to go slower, to be gentle-- to be good for her, to take his time and truly enjoy and appreciate every sweet beg and whimper that falls from her perfect lips. Perhaps she wouldn’t want to fuck him at the back of her shabby place of work, or even anywhere out in the open; maybe she would prefer privacy, for him to make love to her. Would want him to steal her away into his home, to carefully lay her out on his bed and unwrap her like a delicate gift, hands tracing teasing paths along her body before spreading her wide for his tasting pleasures. Taking his time to truly savour her unique flavour on his palette, wanton sounds pressed into sensitive flesh as he takes her throbbing clit into his mouth and sucks.

Broad strokes of his skilled tongue parting her lips and drinking her down, fingers firm as they hold onto the soft meat of her thighs and hips, thumbs rubbing soothing motions into her skin as he opens her up for him. Urges her with hot breathes, praising words, the flick of his tongue and the dip of his fingers into her wet heat, to cum for him; pleads with sound and touch and a greedy haze over his lust-darkened eyes. The gravel in his gluttonous voice vibrating into her, in love with how she reaches and cries out for him as he tells her how good she’s being for him, how badly he needs her to cum for him-- a debauched sound choking out of him as she does. Completely enraptured as she reaches the height of pleasure -- pleasure he brought her, that he will always strive to bring her --, bearing witness to his own personal God-given vision as he watches her writhe against his sheets and listens to her songs of praise, easing her down from that divine high and back into his devoted embrace.

Kissing a line up to her bitten lips, answering her mewls with soft coos and grounding touches, brushing over a nipple before taking the perky flesh into his mouth with a brief suck and fleeting skim of teeth, letting go with a lingering kiss before moving across and repeating the process to its twin. Reluctantly drawing away to playfully nip and press wet kisses into the column of her throat before letting her taste the tanginess of her juices on his tongue. Languidly kissing as he strokes her sides, writing indecipherable words of affection into her skin, content to let her enjoy the bliss of post-orgasm before he slowly pulls away, descending back down the line of her body with a husky, ‘one more, just one more for me, darling...’

John knows he wouldn’t stop at just ‘one more’ though. Hopefully she’d be generous enough to give him a few more before he finally slakes his need for her.

And hopefully she doesn't see the hard-on he’s now sporting after such vivid fantasies.

In a particularly bold move, temptation spurred into a fever from improper imaginings, John reaches for her; fixates on a strand of hair that has become untucked from behind her ear. She tenses, muscles coiling tight as she gives him the most suspicious look somebody has ever given him before. He’s actually rather offended. And very hurt.

But it’s sobering, in its own way. Because suddenly he can hear Joseph’s voice in his head from last Sunday (what a turn-off…), advising him that if he wanted to pursue a relationship with this Deputy that he was so smitten with then he needed to be gentle, considerate.

John may have done his ‘research’ on her, extensively so, but that did not mean that he was entitled or even deserving of her affections. He could not expect her to be on the same page as him, especially considering he had yet to even interact with her at that point. She may not have even heard of him yet, Joseph had speculated-- John and Jacob quietly sharing a disbelieving look. Everyone in the County knew their names, and with her being a Deputy there was no way she hadn’t heard of them.

Regardless, Joseph’s point still stood: if John wanted a genuine chance with her then he needed to soften himself, to be delicate, more tactful with her. Demonstrate that he can hear and see her for all that she is and can be, and that he accepts her without reservation.

Think of it like Atonement, Joseph had supplied sagely, fingers steepled, she needs to willingly give her confession over to you, John. Her affections. You can’t just take them.

And to Joseph’s credit, that actually made sense to John.

Atonement was all about accepting one’s sins, confessing them to another whom they trusted would never condemn nor judge them for their past actions or choices; unburdening themselves so they may be reborn pure and untainted for the hopeful future ahead of them. In that regard, his pursuit of his Deputy wasn’t too dissimilar.

So in that brief moment, in that flash of hurt as she steels herself against his considerate gesture and where John remembers Joseph’s words, he pauses. Convinces himself to go slower, to not try to grab at her like a spoiled brat reaching for things that weren't his-- yet. Reigns himself in enough so he doesn’t give her anymore of a reason to potentially be wary of him, to which he has very likely just given her quite a few. Trying in his own distinct way to smooth over her obvious distrust of him.

John knows he’s made mistakes throughout his life. Many would say he’s not a good man, and he wouldn’t necessarily disagree with them. But seeing and learning of her, of recalling his brother’s words and advice, of the many fantasies he’s had before and even during meeting her in this moment, he thinks he could change that. Knows that, if she would have him, if she gave him the chance, he’d be good. He’d be good for her.

Joseph always talks about love, about the power and control it wields over people and-- admittedly, John doesn’t completely get it.

But with her? For her? He thinks he just might.

…

He thinks he already does.

#can you tell i didn't know how to end this?#what a mess #plot is less than half baked #but hey i had fun with it so that's good #also #because i love ruining people's day #i can't help but read that first line in Jeremy Clarksons voice. makes this whole thing that bit funnier to me #oh and if anyone would like to draw a certain scene of John and a cork board that would be most appreciated #absolute pinnacle of me going silly with this fic #love it #also also #i was aiming to get this out for halloween because of how scary the writing is but i'm an hour late :(#very typical of me but i'm still disappointed #but it's okay i have my bed waiting for me so all is well lol #john seed x reader #john seed x deputy #john seed x female deputy #fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #fc5 fanfic #far cry 5 fanfiction #far cry 5 fanfic #tw: obsessive behavior #tw: stalking #tw: possessive behavior #don't feel like he's that possessive in this but still tagging just in case

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felassanis · 4 months

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I do view John's motive for atoning the deputy initially being because he doesn't want to risk Joseph's anger/disapproval. Also, because of course, he believes Joseph when he says his chance of getting into Eden hinges upon the atonement of this one deputy. So, like a self-preservation thing to a certain degree. Even if he doesn't understand why Joseph wants the Deputy, he will do as he's told.

Because if the Baptism thing is anything to go off. John did not think the deputy was worth the effort of converting.

But then I think it becomes more than that. I think John sees himself in the Deputy. In all their violence and Wrath. And it's then that John wants to save them for real.

He's reminded of Joseph's lesson. "Those who reject us are in need of our guidance more,". He thinks with utter loathing of who he was before the project. Of how Joseph saved him. How he views the Deputy, and realises (in his mind) that they are in need of saving THE MOST. Because HE needed saving too.

How he went his entire childhood abused and beaten and made to feel small and helpless. Finally, FINALLY Joseph comes back into his life, and for the first time (again in John's mind, not reality wise), he is SAVED. Someone WANTED to save him. And nobody has wanted to since Jacob. The way Joseph is so good at making people feel special and seen is likely something he wants to bestow upon the deputy.

He wants to save someone who he views was in the same position as him because for so long, no one wanted to save him. That's why John expresses so much disappointment during the aerial fight. You could've been so much more. Put that wrath and that inescapable urge for violence for a better purpose. Its why the last words he ever says to them is wishing for God to have mercy on their soul.

(Also top that off with the burning hatred and aggression he treats them with because its a projection of his own self loathing at seeing someone so intertwined with him acting like the worst part of himself and doubling down on it. But so desperate to redeem you in his eyes because it's also redeeming him and he's in love with you)

#far cry 5 #john seed #farcry 5 #john seed x deputy

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lulu2992 · 5 months

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Another “old” drawing!

John has something very important to say, something he hasn’t told anyone in years (or maybe ever; he can’t remember). It’s a short, simple sentence, but also a surprisingly hard one to say, so before Taylor actually hears it, he wants to practice...

Full story and context under the cut :)

So, basically, at this point in Taylor’s story, life is hard.

Because of the truce that was negotiated between Eden’s Gate and the Resistance, Hope County is now living in relative peace, at least for the moment. But for the Deputy who made it possible, that peace comes at a heavy cost.

The same people who used to sing her praises and count on her to make things better now (understandably) feel betrayed, hurt, and are angry at her for sparing John, so they either awkwardly avoid her and talk behind her back, or are openly aggressive and contemptuous. Some shame her for “using her body to buy peace”, even though that’s not quite true (they aren’t there yet in their relationship, and the cult has rules anyway).

And despite the fact that, because of the circumstances, she’s now closer to Eden’s Gate than she is to the Resistance, not all cultists trust her. Of course, they listen to Joseph, who said he had faith in Taylor, but some still (also understandably) remain cautious and are worried for their Herald in the Holland Valley. Is it safe to welcome the Deputy or does that heathen have ulterior motives? What if she’s only trying to use and pervert John so she can more easily destroy him and the Project?

For peace, the Junior Deputy had to sacrifice her reputation, has lost many of her friends, and now feels judged by almost everyone in Hope County, even some of those who still tolerate her. So yeah, life is hard.

But paradoxically, the more upset people are at her for growing closer to John, the harder their hatred pushes her into his arms. Soon, the Baptist becomes one of the few people she really trusts and feels allowed to be vulnerable around.

That afternoon, after a particularly difficult moment in Fall’s End, she drove to Seed Ranch, resolutely walked through the front door without saying a word, barely acknowledging the few cultists on her way, went straight to John… and burst into tears the moment she put her arms around him. After the initial surprise, he signaled to the confused guards that everything was okay, that they could leave the room, and just hugged her back in silence.

“Everyone hates me,” she said when her sobbing quieted down and she was finally able to speak.

“No… No, not everyone,” he replied. “There are... There are people who love you. You know that, don’t you?”

She loosened her embrace to look at him.

“That’s why you came here, right?” he asked, smiling tenderly.

She smiled back, but soon she noticed he seemed… uncomfortable. Powerless, even; unsure of what to say and how to deal with the situation. Suddenly, she felt guilty... She had come here because she needed a shoulder to cry on, but she hadn’t realized her sadness would affect him too.

“Sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “I shouldn’t have come here and burdened you with that. I just- You probably have things to do, I should go...”

“No, wait!” he quickly responded, his hands tightening around her waist. “You can stay, it’s fine.”

She looked at him again, and he nodded before adding, “It’s fine. Really.”

She knew he wasn’t just offering her to spend the rest of the day at the ranch; he wanted her to, so she happily accepted.

That night, she fell asleep where she truly felt home: in John’s arms. Unbeknownst to her, for the first time, he told her something he knew he was ready to tell her, but not quite for her to hear yet; not before he was certain he could do it properly.

As she was peacefully sleeping, he whispered, “I love you.”

#my deputy #taylor rook #the deputy #john seed #john seed x deputy #my art #fan art #traditional art #digital coloring #drawn in december 2022 #only one ‘old’ drawing left!#story: 'that fic I’ll never write'#but wait... am I writing... fanfiction now??#the incredible adventures of john 'emotionally constipated perfectionist' seed #also considering what the fandom is reportedly dealing with these days... yay I can’t wait for this to be copy-pasted!#far cry 5

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imgnnafurgf · 2 months

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Remember this wonderful secret ending in farcry5 where you can just kill Joseph on the begging, then take your favorite herald and run away with them to live your happily ever after? Me neither

#far cry 5 #john seed #jacob seed #joseph seed #faith seed #farcry #farcry5 #deputy rook #far cry new dawn #john seed x male deputy #john seed x deputy #jacob seed x deputy #faith seed x deputy

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fr0gg3rrr · 1 month

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My first fanfic on here so apologies for anything wrong. I’ve only stalked other fics, never posted myself.

Inspired by Adelaide’s voice line: “John Seed hunched over his map getting a hard-on by the sound of his own voice …” she’s literally me, I need him carnally. It’s been years and I think about him 24/7 (I’m supposed to be working on midterms help.)

John Seed x Fem!Deputy. CW: smut - dirty talk, radio sex, masturbation (m).

Night descended onto the Valley, crickets sang their sharp tune outside the concrete walls of the bunker. Peggies had long since stopped pacing the halls, preparations for the sabbath now over, a good night's rest being the last thing on their checklist.

But for one John Seed, sleep was the last thing on his mind.

Static echoed over his radio, body leaning against the table adorned with gashes and crevasses from the many times he ran a blade over the once fine wood. His fingers traced over his tattoo gun anxiously, one hand reaching to grab the handset.

“Can someone fucking answer me? Huh? You better not get a single scratch on one of my planes!” He shouted over the comms, fingers trembling with the sheer amount of anger that flowed through his veins. These were the chosen, the best pilots out of the entire congregation?

What a joke.

He slammed the hand radio back on the table at the answer of static. He had sent out three planes, none responded. There was no way she could’ve taken them all down, was there?

He didn’t turn at the sound of the door opening behind him, nor at one of his Peggie’s asking if he was okay. No, instead he stayed hunched over the table, seething. He gripped the handle of his tattoo gun now, his knuckles turning white. This was the last thing he needed, a lowly cultist practically cooing over a Herald like he was a child.

Grasping the gun, he turned and threw it at the wall beside whatever Peggie decided to have a shred of decency to check on him, shouting expletives as they hurriedly left and shut the door. The tool now lay on the ground, broken into two pieces.

A sigh fell from his lips as he stood up straight, standing there for a moment and observing what he had broken. Wrath. Joseph would be upset if he saw his little brother like this. Slicking back any strands that fell from his perfect hair, he grabbed the pieces of his precious tattoo gun.

“Holy shit, is this thing still working?”

He tensed at the sound of a familiar someone speaking over his radio. The audacity of her, did she not know she had a direct line to the youngest Seed? He wasn’t in the mood for her voice to be crooning over his comms.

“Sharky get over here, lay down a beat I’m gonna start spitting.”

He heard her laugh, almost as if she was carefree, opposite to how she had cried when he straddled her, carving her sin into her flesh for her to adorne, to show everyone what a sinner she was. Her own personalized scarlet letter. She was such a beautiful crier, if he could have bottled up her tears and kept them forever he would’ve.

He traced his fingers over the gun once more, this time not in a bid to calm himself down, but out of reminiscence. How he had held it tight as the two of them sat on the floor of that church, how he had grabbed her chin when she awoke, how she thrashed and cried and almost ruined her perfect carving. Now he had gone and broken it.

Somewhere between Henbane River’s resident pyromaniac making noises that could barely be considered beatboxing and the Deputy poorly rhyming ‘Bliss’ and ‘diss,’ he interjected.

“Ah- now that’s not very nice, is it, Deputy?”

He was met with not the deafening sound of static, but silence this time. For a moment, he thought she had run at the sound of his voice, he would’ve relished in that thought had she not been the only thing keeping him sane. Ironic.

“I save my kindness for people who deserve it, Seed.” The playfulness didn’t leave her voice as she shooed Sharky away, her companion rolling his eyes and probably leaving to go to the pizza diner. Privacy when talking to John Seed was a must, she wouldn’t have to be embarrassed over teasing him.

“I don’t deserve it? I’m a fairly good person.” He scoffed, rubbing his eyes tiredly as he moved from tracing his tattoo gun to tracing the map pinned to the table in front of him.

“Kidnapping, torture, murder, that’s all being a good person to you?”

“You call it that because you’re blind to the good intentions of Eden’s Gate. Do you take joy in misinterpreting our mission to save sinners?”

“I-unno. Is there a sin for that too? Gonna carve that into my skin and stare at my tits while you’re at it?”

He could hear the smirk in her voice, how she teased and played with him. He would carve every sin onto her skin if he had the chance, if Joseph would let him. Pride for her unwillingness to see the truth, Envy and Greed for her taking of the compounds that belong to the cult, Sloth for sending her resistance companions to do her bidding, Gluttony for the alcohol she consumed to wash away what she had seen. And Lust, for the feelings she incited in him.

“I never stared at your breasts.”

“Do you like being a fucking liar?”

Her tone was rougher, the only time he had heard her speak to him like that was when Hudson was tied to a chair in front of her, his bunker dark and dingy as it was her decision to choose between who got marked first. When she spoke to him like he was nothing but a bug underneath her boot, when he had to take Hudson out of the room and fix the problem growing in his pants.

“Fuck.”

He didn’t mean to slip, to let her know the absolute power she had over him. Ever since he saw her in the church, when she handcuffed his brother and attempted to arrest him, he knew it was over for him.

Every thought he had belonged to her, every waking moment and every dream was hers. He was pathetic, he knew, but he couldn’t help himself.

“Fuck? Use your words, John.” She was using his name now, not just resorting to his surname. She was playing into every fantasy that ran through his head, how had he gone years without her? “I’ll ask you again. Do you like being a fucking liar?”

“Mm- no- i'm not a liar-… cmon, where are you?” He whined out softly, tugging on his ‘EG’ belt buckle. His pants had grown uncomfortably tight without his permission.

“Why would I tell you? So you can send your Peggie’s after me again? I don’t think so.”

He bit his bottom lip, cursing himself mentally. He stood up straight, running his hand through his hair exasperatedly, dark blue eyes trailing down to the LUST marking he had over his lower stomach. He was reduced to nothing more than a filthy sinner now.

“It’s a day before the Sabbath, Deputy. Please don’t talk to me like this.”

“Like what? Ohh… are you getting hard at the sound of my voice?”

She was awfully perceptive, though he wouldn’t be surprised if she could hear the metallic clinking of his belt buckle as he shedded it from its loops with one hand. He needed some kind of release.

“Fucking -… cmon, don’t do this to me.” His voice was soft and pleading over the radio, something she had never heard from him. He seemed so needy, the way his breath picked up, the small pants that escaped his pretty lips. She could only imagine how he looked now.

“A day before the sabbath just means you can atone tomorrow, doesn’t it? Cmon, I know you wanna be a good boy f’me.”

God, he tensed at her words. Fingers greedily grabbing at his pants, playing with them till they pooled at his ankles, tattooed fingers massaging the fabric of his blue boxers, a small patch darker than the rest as his precum stained the polyester.

She had power over him, and she knew it too.

“Hnmm - keep ta-talking please…”

“God, you really are pathetic aren’t you? First Herald of Eden’s Gate whimpering for the resistance leader over his peggies radio.”

His head buried against the crook of his arm that rested on the beaten up table. Pretty blue eyes fluttered shut as his fingers delicately wrapped around his angry red tip. Dick gently throbbing in his hand at her words.

John Seed, deemed the most sadistic out of the entire fucking cult, reduced to a whiny, submissive mess from the Deputys harsh tone. If anyone found out about this, he’d never be able to live it down.

Soft spouts of precum dripped over his fingers as he pumped his aching cock, a small layer spread over his flesh. What a pathetic display, what a man to let lust consume him once more. He felt like he was that Lawyer again, hopped up on cocaine and whiskey just to give him a nice buzz. But now, he had the Deputy, and she was better then any substance he had had before.

“Don’t f-fucking stop.” How many times had he said that years ago? How many women had made him feel like this? His years before reuniting with Joseph were a blur, but he remembered the longing feeling he felt. Different was he now, but still pining for something out of his reach. “When I-I get you I’m going to-“

His words were cut off by a pathetic whine as his hand slicked back from his tip, starting on the base and pumping his throbbing member. How pretty she would look with her lips wrapped around him, her eyes all teary as she took him down her throat.

“Gonna what? Finish your sentence, baby.”

Gonna coat your mouth, make you cry for me like you had in that church. He wanted to say, wanted to flip it around on her, make her cover his fingers with her arousal. But he didn’t, he couldn’t. John Seed was a taker, and right now he was too caught up in his pleasure.

His cock was throbbing uncomfortably in his hand, veins flowing with blood, he felt close and he had barely started, but the sound of her voice could make him cum in his hand in an instant. He bit his bottom lip, attempting to swallow the weak whines and moans that threatened to spill from him for her, though most escaped anyways.

Soft, pathetic ‘please’s we’re all he could respond with, they fell from his lips like a prayer - one only she could hear. He was good, good for her, he deserved to cum in his hand, didn’t he?

“Hmm after all you put me through, I think a good apology would be a nice way to end this, don’t you?”

He could practically hear the delight in her voice as she noticed how close he was, she reveled in the fact she had brought him to his knees through her tone alone. He was putty in her hands, molded and contorted into a submissive shape.

“Fuck fuck fuck I’m sorry-“

He whined out, back arching from the wooden desk as his hand pumped faster around his aching cock. A soft ‘tsk’ came over the radio waves, causing another whine to fall from his lips. “Cmon - i-i said sorry-“

“You pray with that mouth? Again. Lose the swearing.”

“I’m sorry I’m sorry!”

“There you go, that’s a good boy.”

He moaned at her words, legs trembling slightly. One, two, three more pumps and he absolutely came undone. Ropes of cum messing his hands and the concrete floor below him, a panting and whining mess of a man as he stroked himself till he was empty.

When he lifted his head and the cool air of the bunker hit his flushed cheeks, the clarity set in. He had just fucked himself with his hand over the Deputy of all people; all on his radio. Hurriedly, he pulled up his boxers and jeans, wiping up the mess on the floor and on his hands with a towel.

The familiar sound of static from the radio setting in once more. She must’ve destroyed what was left of the plane. What a fucking mess.

A congregation was held the next morning in Joseph’s church, bells ringing above sung for the holy day, John made his way past Jacob and Faith to his seat behind the podium. Faith was giggling about something or another, probably high off bliss, and Jacob was scowling at him slightly.

“I know you were always the youngest, but I didn’t think you’d be so weak, Brother. Even Faith has more resolve then you.”

#john seed #far cry 5 #john seed x deputy #john seed x female deputy #smut #i need him so fucking bad #omg #</3

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wrathfulrook · 2 months

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James Rook

James Rook is 15 years old and has never known who his father is. But when he finds out who his father is, he realizes it's his mom he may not know. AU, no collapse.

Ship: John Seed x Patience Ekner (deputy oc) [past relationship]

Rating: T

Word count: ~4.9k

Read it on ao3.

Maybe James Rook was naïve. None of his friends trusted their parents the way he’d trusted his mom. None of them considered their parents their friends. Until recently, he’d thought his close relationship with his mom was simply a result of being raised by a single mother. Now, he wasn’t so sure.

It was easy to sneak away.

Now 15 years old, his mom had assumed his recent distance from her was just a bit of teenage rebellion. But it wasn’t him. It was her. All of her lies and secrets. He hadn’t even known his mom’s real name until recently. What kind of mom does something like that?

The more generous part of James’ mind reminds him that he grew up happy and loved. That his mom gave up a lot for him; he knows that. Based on what he’d been able to find – and he’d found quite a bit; it had been national news at the time – changing her name was likely just a desire to protect herself, to protect him. That generous part of his brain tells him that there’s no way his father was a good man. If he was, James wouldn’t have been on a Greyhound and travelling cross-country to visit a prison.

James loved his mom.

But the less generous part of him seethed in anger. What kind of mom hid her kid’s origins from him? That part of him also ached, felt shattered. He felt like a fool. And he felt betrayed. How was he ever supposed to trust her again?

When it all ended, when the National Guard came, they all ended up behind bars. Joseph, Jacob, John, and Faith. Tucked away where they could never hurt anyone ever again. In the aftermath, her own name and face were plastered all over the news. Her statements were used in each trial, printed in papers nationwide. And so the courts had been all too willing to grant her petition for a name change. Patience Ekner ceased to be, and Patience Rook was born.

Patience Rook left Hope County, left Montana, never to go back. She put it all behind her and moved forward, the only reminder she chose to keep, the new surname she took, her nickname from those brutal, bloody days. Of course, there were other reminders she hadn’t chosen. The tattoo of her sin, for one. Wrath, he’d assigned her. Not that she ever believed, but she found wrath fairly fitting at the time.

In hindsight, he’d chosen wrong. It shouldn’t have been WRATH she spent hours getting covered up with flowers that she didn’t think particularly suited her. No. In retrospect, it should’ve been LUST.

But the tattoo wasn’t her only reminder of that time, of him. There was also the child she’d birthed, the child she adored. Her son.

Hers.

But, oh, did he look like his father. His hair dark where hers was blonde, eyes blue where hers were grey. He even had that same charming smile, the one that had worked so well on her those many years ago. The only thing of hers she could see on her child were her numerous freckles. But while her freckles remained always, her child had outgrown them by the time he hit high school.

Every now and then, he would say something, make some face, talk with his hands in a way that she was hit full force with the memory of his father. Both the horrible things he’d done and those stolen, secret nights they couldn’t keep apart from one another…

But mostly, usually, she looked at her boy and saw only him. James. Her perfect miracle baby. The gift that made everything about those dark days worth it in her eyes. He had been such a happy, smiley baby. Always giggling and gurgling. He’d been talkative long before he learned to speak. Always so sweet and kind. Petting her hair and telling her “Okay mommy… s’okay mommy…” as she purged herself of a stomach bug he’d brought home from daycare when he was too small to even form full sentences, while she in turn tried to reassure her baby that mommy was ok.

Even now, he was her perfect child. Still sweet, still happy. But now his own person. And she was so amazed by the person he’d become. He was funny. Funny in a way she never was. And so clever. Amazing grades as well as a quick wit… Patience loved her child and she knew how much he loved her too.

Even despite how he’d recently been pulling away.

James wondered how many signs he’d missed over the course of his life. How obvious it should have been. His mom had always told him she didn’t know who his father was. He recalled once, in one of his earliest memories, that she’d told him she chose his name because she’d always liked it, but also because she thought his father would like it too.

He’d asked her about it later, and she said that she’d never said it. And he believed her. He was so little at the time; it could’ve easily been a false memory. He still wasn’t sure it wasn’t. After all, he had a memory from around the same time of flapping his arms and flying like a bird throughout the house, and that memory felt equally as real.

But whether or not she’d told him his father would like his name, she knew. His mom knew who his dad was the whole time. Because he looked exactly like one of them. The Seeds. The cult leaders. He couldn’t know which was his father, but one of them was. He looked exactly like John Seed. The Baptist. The sadistic monster who tortured and murdered and starved innocent people. Just reading about his crimes had been enough to give James nightmares for a week.

He didn’t know whether or not that man that was his father, but he was related to him. There was no way he wasn’t. He’d been able to find some footage of the court proceedings against him, and it filled his stomach with an uncanny dread. Like watching an older version of himself. The same smile he saw every day in the mirror, the same gestures, speaking with his hands in the same way James did. Even his voice sounded familiar. Not the same, but certainly not very different from the way James sounded to himself in videos.

If John Seed wasn’t his father, he was at least his uncle. One of those men – John, Joseph, or Jacob – was his dad. His mother, the woman regarded nationally as a hero, the deputy who brought the cult to justice, had had a child with one of the cult’s leaders.

James had spent the past weeks learning everything he could about the Project at Eden’s Gate. And he was horrified at the thought that his mom would ever willingly have any sort of relationship with any of those men. He almost hoped she hadn’t. But if one of those men was his father, and his mom had in fact not been voluntarily involved with any of them… No. James couldn’t stomach the thought of that either.

No matter what the circumstances were back then, the situation now was that James had told his mom he was spending the long weekend camping with a friend’s family, when in reality he was on a bus to Montana to meet the man who might be his dad.

It had been surprisingly easy to contact John Seed. Apparently, you could write a letter to anyone as long as you knew their name and which prison they were at. James’ first letter hadn’t received a response. Probably because he had intentionally been a bit light on the details. Eventually he’d tried again, this time including his mom’s former name and, after much mental back-and-forth, a photo of himself.

And that had received a response.

John Seed had written back, though he didn’t say much. And via snail mail, they had arranged to meet. John Seed had even offered to fund the excursion, but James had declined, instead saving his allowance and taking small amounts from his mom’s purse every now and then, little enough each time not to be noticed.

He’d never stolen before, and he didn’t feel good about it now. But James liked to think himself honorable, and he would find a way to pay his mom back every cent he’d taken once he’d figured out who his dad was.

And hopefully John Seed could tell him.

Patience wasn’t nearly as obtuse as her son thought. Oh, how she sometimes missed those simple days when he believed she knew everything.

No, Patience knew that James had something going on. She didn’t know what it was, but she had a few ideas. As a mother, she had quite a few worst fears – drugs, alcohol, vaping… But those were just fears. James was a smart boy. He knew better than to get involved in something like that. Plus, he’d been exhibiting no signs of substance abuse. He was just suddenly more secretive and private than before. She had a more realistic suspicion than drugs.

Sex.

She feared her baby boy had become sexually active. 15 was so, so young for that. Patience had never even been kissed until she was 19. She’d been a little awkward growing up, a bit of an ugly duckling. Not James, though. Yet another way he took after his father. He’d always been a cute boy. Her son had taken a girl to the middle school dance. Kids had had crushes on him his whole life. He’d already had three “girlfriends” in his young life.

And so, what if his recent distance was a result of him starting to have sex?

Moms were meant to worry after their children, and Patience was no exception to that rule. But she’d always tried to be open, honest, and educational about sex. He should know enough, be responsible enough, to do what he was ready to when he was ready to. And inform her when he was ready for her to know. After all, a child asking where babies come from while only having one parent… James had been aware of the concept of sex from a very early age, especially with her claiming not to know who his father was.

Patience sometimes felt like she should feel guilty about lying to her son about something so serious as his parentage. Especially because that one lie involved a million more. James didn’t know about her time as a deputy. He didn’t even know she’d ever lived in Montana. He didn’t know their family name was actually Ekner. There were a lot of tiny lies that went into covering up who his father was. But she didn’t feel bad. Not even a little.

Because she was keeping her baby safe. Safe from publicity. Safe from her past. And safe from John Seed.

James had never felt more out of his element than when he was checking in as a visitor at the prison. That is, until about twenty minutes later when he was sitting across the table from John Seed.

John Seed wore a beige correctional jumpsuit and his hands were cuffed to the table, which James hadn’t been expecting. Despite this, the man seemed completely at ease. He was well-coiffed, his salt and pepper hair slicked back, his facial hair neatly trimmed, and the crows feet around his eyes creasing when he smiled genially at him. He had clearly aged in the past 15 years since the news coverage James had found, but he was certainly recognizable, and still eerily familiar.

“So, you’re the deputy’s son… It’s nice to meet you, James.”

“Nice to meet you…” James floundered on what to call the man across from him. John? Mr. Seed? He opted to let the sentence dangle awkwardly.

“You can call me John.”

James nodded. “John.”

“I’m assuming you have many questions for me.” John dove right into it and James felt a bit flustered. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, though, and doubted anything would seem normal in a situation like this.

After a brief pause, he spoke. “Yes… Like I wrote in my letters. I think you or one of your brothers may be my father and I-“ James swallowed uncomfortably, a too-obvious tactic to buy time to build courage. “I was wondering if you knew who my father was.”

John smiled. The smile seemed friendly on the surface, but there was something in his eyes that James couldn’t place.

“I am. I’m your father.”

James nodded, surprised that he didn’t feel surprised. Logically, he knew it could have been any of the brothers. Logically, he knew that it was likely his close resemblance to the man across from him that made him feel any sort of connection. But the moment John confirmed it, he realized he’d known. He felt, somewhere deep inside of himself, that John Seed was his dad.

“So… you and my mom…?” James let himself trail off, not really sure what he was asking, or how he should ask it.

John nodded, one eyebrow raised, as if impressed by the audacity of the unspoken question. “Yes. We were involved. In secret, of course. We met up more than a few times, none of which were terribly romantic.”

James understood the implication and asked no follow up questions. John and his mother hadn’t been in love. They weren’t dating. They just… were. James didn’t love the idea of his mom being some guy’s late night booty call and didn’t particularly want to think about it. But at the same time, he’d spent his whole life believing his mom didn’t even know who his father was, so it wasn’t exactly an unbelievable idea.

“Is she well, your mother?”

James nodded.

“And where does she think you are right now?”

James blinked in surprise. “How-?”

John laughed, not unkindly. “She’d never let you come here. Not in a million years. Not to see me.”

James didn’t like the emphasis he’d put on the word “me,” some red flag going off somewhere in the back of his mind.

“She thinks I’m at a friend’s.”

His smile didn’t reach his eyes when he spoke. “No, she doesn’t.”

James didn’t know what to say to that.

“Tell me, James, have you been raised in the faith?”

“I- what faith?” Surely John knew his mother never subscribed to the cult’s beliefs.

He shrugged. “Any faith.”

He shook his head no. “No. We’re not religious.”

John just hummed contemplatively but didn’t look surprised. Nor did he look surprised at the next, sudden question.

“Did you know about me?” He hadn’t even known he was going to ask the question until it was out, tumbling past his lips.

For the first time since his arrival, John’s face lost all traces of humor, of ease, of amiability. His eyes, the same eyes James saw every day in the mirror, bored into his own.

“No. No, I never had any idea. If I had known I had a child, I’d have been there for you. For her.”

James doubted that very much. Not because he doubted John; he had no idea whether he meant that or not. He doubted it because, even if he wasn’t locked away behind bars for the rest of his life, he knew his mother would never let this man near them. That’s something he would have known even before he found out just what his mother was capable of, what she’d done in Hope County. More than he trusted that the sun would rise tomorrow, he trusted that his mom would do anything and everything in her power and beyond to keep him away from any perceived threat.

And he knew his mom considered John Seed a threat.

John brushed past the serious moment easily, that same easy smile sliding back into place. “Tell me about yourself, James. A father should know some things about his son, don’t you think?”

James warily nodded. “…Like what?”

“Anything. Everything. What classes are you in? Do you have any hobbies? You’re 15, right? When is your birthday?”

“Uh- yeah. 15. I’m a sophomore. My birthday is June 21st.”

Though his facial expression didn’t change, James knew he was doing the mental math. And given that he didn’t say anything about it, the math clearly checked out.

“Are you driving?” John asked.

James shook his head no. “No. All the summer birthdays have driver’s ed in the spring semester. I have my permit, but mom’s only taken me out driving once, in a parking lot. I didn’t do very well, though.”

“I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it. It’s like anything else – you just need practice.” John smiled kindly, and James could almost forget the horrible crimes he was convicted of. In fact, if he wasn’t wearing the khaki jumpsuit, he was sure he would’ve let himself. “And what about school? How’s school? Your grades?”

“Fine. As and Bs, mostly. I’m taking all the regular classes. And my electives this semester are Spanish, debate, and study hall.”

“Debate? How are you enjoying that?”

James shrugged, uncomfortable bragging about himself. “It’s fun.” He left out that he was captain of the underclassmen debate team.

“And Spanish is an elective?” John asked in an interested voice. “Does your school not have a language requirement?”

“No, it does. Two years. But I want to take Spanish for all four. I just meant, I’m taking Spanish as opposed to French or German.”

John nodded. “That’s a very intelligent choice. Does your mother help you with your Spanish studies?”

James nodded, a bit taken aback that John knew his mom spoke Spanish. It wasn’t like she spoke it often. He was surprised it came up in their time together. “Yeah, sometimes. When I was first learning last year, she labelled everything in the house. And she’ll speak to me in Spanish sometimes when I want to practice.”

“She sounds like a wonderful mother.” John spoke softly, kindly, genuinely pleased.

“She’s the best.”

James had returned when he said he would, but he was very light on the details. When she’d asked how camping had been, all he said was “fine.” But she knew he hadn’t gone camping. She’d called the parents of the family he claimed to be camping with, and they were home.

James was lying.

Would he really lie about spending the whole weekend with a girl? He never used to lie to her.

Patience had gone out and purchased condoms, dental dams, and a few other small but useful things and left them in the top drawer of James’ bathroom. She considered leaving him a note, assuring him they didn’t need to talk about it if he didn’t want to, but eventually decided that leaving no note would convey the same message.

She was fairly certain she had James’ sudden secrecy figured out until a few days after his return. James had just gotten on the bus for school, and she was about to head to work. She pulled out her phone to check her banking app, debating the financial pros and cons of stopping for a coffee on the way.

She froze.

She double-checked that the name at the top of the account was hers. Then triple-checked. It was. She went into her checking account, to see where the staggering windfall of cash had come from.

And then she threw up.

James couldn’t focus at all. He hadn’t taken a single note, hadn’t read anything his teachers wrote on the board. He’d even been called on in government class, but he hadn’t even heard the question. His mind was elsewhere. Back in a Montana correctional facility with his dad.

His dad who was friendly, who missed flying his planes, who wished his siblings were housed in the same facility. His dad told him what each of the small tattoos on his hand meant, who laughed kindly when James clarified the latest teen slang he’d used, who promised to keep in touch and had already kept his word – a letter had arrived in his secret PO box just yesterday.

The same dad who was and remained a religious extremist, who’d used his legal knowledge to cheat people out of their homes and businesses, who’d cut off food supply to the Holland Valley. The same dad who’d tortured people, who’d skinned people, who’d murdered people.

James thought that meeting his dad would clear things up, but he’d never felt muddier…

John had aged well in the intervening 16 years. He had lines around his eyes, and his hair and beard had gone salt-and-pepper, but it worked. He looked just as good, if not better, than he had when she last saw him. How was it possible to age so well in prison? It hardly seemed fair.

He smiled at her from across the table, with that same charming smile and those sparkling white teeth. “Deputy. What a wonderful surprise.”

Patience glared at him. “Cut the shit and don’t call me that.”

“Patience Ekner.” The smile didn’t leave his face. “Or Rook, now, isn’t it? Cute.”

“Oh, I’m so glad you find this amusing, truly, but I actually need to speak with you.” They fell back into their old banter so easily that it startled her.

John leaned easily, comfortably, back in the cold metal chair. He nodded for her to continue.

“What the hell is that money?”

“It’s for my son,” he answered easily. Too easily. As if it were the most normal, natural statement in the world.

Patience had to restrain herself from leaping across the table and throttling him like she should’ve all those years ago.

“My son!”

All the mirth drained from his features and she was faced with the stony, terrifying look that lingered in the nightmares of so many Hope County residents.

“Our son. That you hid from me for 16 years.”

“He’s 15.”

“Pregnancy, dear. Also hidden.”

“And for good fucking reason!”

He scoffed. “I don’t think there’s any reason good enough to keep a father from his son. And James agrees with me.”

If looks could kill… well, John would’ve been dead long before he got her pregnant. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you even say his name.”

“Why not? It’s a perfectly good name. Strong, masculine, Biblical. I’m pleasantly surprised. I’d have expected you to name a child Björn or something ridiculous like that.”

Patience rolled her eyes. “Believe it or not, John, your opinion didn’t actually factor into what I named my child.”

He smiled softly. “Yes, it did.”

“John, I am only here to tell you to leave us alone. And to take your money back. I don’t need it.”

“It isn’t just for you. It’s for James.” How calmly he spoke did nothing but piss her off even further. “I’m assuming you didn’t react well when James told you he’d visited me.”

Patience stayed silent and John grinned as she fell into the obvious trap.

“Oh…?” His tone was thick with blatantly-faux surprise. “He didn’t tell you? And I suppose you didn’t tell him you were here now?”

She remained silent, glaring.

“Interesting. It seems you’re both talking more to me than to each other.”

“Stop it. Just shut the fuck up and leave us alone.”

John shrugged. “I can leave you alone, yes, but if James wants a relationship with me, I have no interest in denying him.”

As Patience left, she heard him call out to her back, “You still look wonderful, Deputy!”

James heard his mother slam her bag down onto the table first thing when she came home. He walked into the kitchen to greet her.

“Bad business trip?”

His mom looked at him with a look he couldn’t place, one he’d never seen before.

“…Mom?”

“I wasn’t on a work trip, James. I was in Montana.”

Oh. That was the look. She knew. Of course she knew. James had never lied to his mom and he was apparently not very good at it. Not like her. He tried to quash down the unkind thought.

He also tried to quash down his initial impulse to apologize. He hadn’t done anything wrong. Well- at least, looking into this and contacting his dad wasn’t wrong. And he wasn’t going to apologize for that. The stealing and the sneaking off to Montana… that might warrant an apology.

“James…” Then his mom was rushing towards him, taking him into her arms, holding him so tightly she was practically crushing him.

And then he was hugging her back.

“How? How did you find this out?”

James sighed. “I was doing a Wikipedia deep dive on cults…”

His mom raised one eyebrow, perplexed. “Why were you doing that?”

He felt his face redden as he thought about Millie from geometry class. But he explained nonetheless, “My friend Millie is into true crime. She was interested in Jonestown, so I just… did a little research.”

He nearly jumped, he was so startled when his mom burst into raucous laughter. Seeing the look on his face, she tried to pull herself together.

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry. I’m sorry; it’s not funny. Just, that we got into this mess so you could impress a girl!” She laughed again and kissed his forehead. “Oh, you are so my son…”

James grinned at the joke.

“So. How did you realize?”

“I look like him.”

She nodded. “You really, really do.”

“I saw some videos of some of the trial.”

She nodded again, squeezing his arm in support. “That must have been hard.”

“I saw lots of interviews with you, too. Ekner?”

“Yes, Ekner,” she smiled kindly. “That was my grandpa’s name. It’s Swedish.”

James nervously chewed his lip, in much the same way his mom often did. “Yeah. You look Swedish.” He paused. “I don’t.”

“No. You don’t. I don’t know where John’s family is originally from.”

They were silent for a long moment until he finally spoke again. “Why?”

“Why what, honey?”

“Him.”

“Oh.” His mom looked down, as if gathering strength. And then she was honest with him. Truly honest. “You have to understand, it was like the world was ending. Not like the Peggies thought – that’s what we called the cultists, Peggies. Not literally, like them. But like the world as I knew it was ending. We had no phone, no TV, no internet. I was the last law enforcement officer left, and I wasn’t enforcing any laws. I was just trying to save people where I could.

“Everyone was armed. And everyone was using their arms. There was no food. I went hungry a lot. Hunted and fished when I could. My home, along with lots of others, had been burned down. I slept in abandoned cabins, unoccupied bunkers, and in trees stands. People were trying to kill me and I killed people. Always in defense of myself or others, but I’ve taken lives.

“I never thought I’d see a day where I could check the news on my phone, drive to work, go out to eat with friends, go on a walk unarmed… It was a completely different world. It was a war. Horrifying. The things I saw… well, I’m sure you read about them.”

James nodded. “I saw some pictures.”

He was once again pulled into his mom’s arms. “I’m so sorry, James. I never wanted you to see anything like that. I’m sorry you had to. Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. I want- Just keep going.”

“Ok.” She nodded and continued, “It was basically the end of the world. And in spite of everything he was doing, he was charming. And we became… well, obsessed with each other. Rivals, almost, though that makes it sound trivial. Taunting each other over the radio, going out of our ways to make each other’s lives harder, even in ways not specifically related to the cult or the resistance…

“And then it just sort of happened.

“And then it kept happening. In spite of everything he was doing. I knew it was wrong. And it’s not that I didn’t care… it’s that I didn’t care enough.”

“…Oh.”

“But I can’t regret it because it brought me you.”

He returned her small smile.

“And I’m sure you’re angry with me. And I’m sure you’re hurt.”

Yes and yes. But he didn’t respond.

“You’re allowed to be upset, you know.”

“I am,” James admitted.

“Everything I’ve done has been to protect you. He’s not a good man.”

“I know.” He looked down at the linoleum flooring beneath them. “But he’s still my dad.”

“Just biologically.”

James simply shrugged. “Maybe. But shouldn’t I get to decide that?”

His mom’s eyes watered with unshed tears and her face became pink in an effort not to cry. “You can’t trust him, honey.”

James wasn’t sure he could trust her either anymore. But he knew in his gut he would trust her again someday. So, he spoke honestly. “I don’t trust him. I just want to know him.”

“I don’t think he’s the kind of person anyone can truly know.”

“Did you know him?”

His mom hesitated a long time before telling him, “I’m not sure.”

“Oh.”

She gently squeezed his arm again. “I can tell you what I do know?”

James looked into his mom’s eyes and nodded once. And for the first time, she began to tell her son about his father.

#my stuff #john seed x patience ekner #john seed x deputy #john seed fic #john seed #oc: patience ekner #oc: james rook #far cry 5 #fc5

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idkmanimjustawh0re · 2 years

Text

Homebound

Reader x seed Brothers soulmate au

3k words

On everybody's 21st birthday They gain a soulmate, many dream of their 20's for that very reason the idea of a soulmate was appealing to the masses, the idea that someone would love you gaping wounds and all? It was just too good to be true

______

"Deputy?" Whitehorse said breaking deputy from their trance she had been staring at the joseph seed video for quite some time something about him was familiar and yet unnerving she was sure she had never seen this man in her life so what was with this strange connection she suddenly felt now

"I wouldn't bother with that now the internet out here is sparse" he was correct as a few seconds after he said that the device had shown nothing more than static.

You nod but say nothing about the strange feeling you had in your gut.

Marshal doesn't seem to want you here. You've seen him throw looks at you the entire flight and you can't blame him you're quite new to the whole deputy thing— so you didn't have much experience under your belt. It was a surprise they even let you go on this mission.

You turn your head to the window and stare at the large statue of Joseph seed. It makes you feel a sense of dread.

The helicopter lands and you are immediately surrounded by unwelcoming cultists brandishing weapons your way.

You think for a second you see something in joseph seed's eyes something that completely stops you from putting the cuffs on him before you're snapped out of it by Hudson "put the damn cuffs on deputy" and you do and joseph seed smiles something about his smile is unnerving.

"God will not let you take me" he says and you usher him out of the chapel.

He was correct. The helicopter had fallen from the sky thanks to one of the cultists throwing themselves into the turbine.

You blackout but only momentarily you wake no less than a minute afterwards and struggle under the belt buckles scratching and clawing at them until finally they release you.

You took no time crawling out of the helicopter and into the woods hearing Joseph's men shout behind you.

It was a blur getting out of there you hardly remembered meeting up with Marshal nore the drive that threw you down into the river you were lucky Dutch saved you didn't turn you in or put the bullet in your head himself.

He was lucky to have you, you had no qualms about killing those that stood in your way, mainly the cultists— you were meant to save the people of Hope County. He just knew it.

✟✟✟✟✟✟✟✟✟

A sigh fell from your lips as you shot down the last cultists fuck in your way after being down in Hope county for the past 2 months you grew used to death and killing it used to give you nightmares— like when you were a kid except these nightmares far more gruesome then any little kids mind could come up with. You dreamed of dead bodies, and pools of blood your hands stained a deep maroon screams and groans of agony in the air. You used to wake up in a sweat, your eyes burning with tears as you recalled the nightmares but you never cried, you couldn't risk someone finding out though you knew no one here would blame you what with all the shit you've seen you couldn't help but feel ashamed.

You pull the radio from your hip alerting the others of another location that was taken back from the seed Brothers soon enough people would be filing in to fix the place up and hold down fort so the cultists couldn't come back.

Leaning back against your car you ponder how long it would be until you could finally go home, would it be sooner rather than later? probably not

In four months it would be your twenty first birthday

Which meant you'd finally be able to feel your soulmate bond— you feel kind of bad for your soulmate. You were stuck in some war that you weren't sure would ever let up, which meant you were in a constant state of stress they'd surely feel and that's unfair to them. And it's not as though you were chomping at the bit to see your soulmate although you couldn't deny the tingle of excitement in your abdomen at the idea you weren't exactly in the best state of mind to deal with those feelings you've heard from people like your mother that they were extremely overwhelming the moment they locked eyes and you weren't ready for something like that.

Sure enough people began flooding in as you watched from the sidelines getting a few thank yous before you decide to head back to Holland valley.

✟✟✟✟✟✟✟✟✟

Another month in hope county and you've had your second run in with John seed and he seemed even more deranged then last time he was pissed at you for plowing through his men and taking back most of the land — his fuckfaces had caught you with your proverbial pants down when you were just setting up a camp and they shot your ass with a fuckton of bliss bullets.

He went on his little tangent which ended in him asking who'd like the go first who would like to bare their sins to him—Hudson looked like shit she's certainly seen better days and it grinds your gears as you wondered just what he put her through.

"Yes" it slips out of your mouth, he smiles clasping his hands together you knew he was excited to get his hands on you. He rolls Hudson away, she screams and cries over the tape and it breaks a piece of your heart. You silently vow to yourself you'd save her no matter what.

Tugging at your bindings you began to rock back in forth in your chair before it falls down the stairs you think you might've cracked your head against the floor still you get up and find a way out of the torture room.

The whole place was like a maze you knew you wouldn't be able to find Hudson just yet you hated yourself for leaving her but you continued going with the sentiment that you'd be back.

When John found you gone he was no less than angry he wanted to finally teach you a lesson and he had the perfect tattoo for you he had decided that pride was your biggest sin, constantly toeing the line with him and his brothers you did it with such assurances it could be nothing but pride— soon it would be cut into your flesh. Soon he calmed himself, touching the knives on his table the ones he wanted to tear against your skin.

If Joseph had seen the hatred in his eyes he would surely be reprimanded as he had been before Joseph would only give him so many chances to stay he had to reign himself in.

✟✟✟✟✟✟✟✟✟

The next meeting with the seed Brothers had been with both Jacob and joseph a whole two months after John's meeting

You knew whatever Jacob was doing to you was leading somewhere he wouldn't do this for no reason but you couldn't for the life of you find out for now you rested your head against the metal bar and stared woozily at joseph seed. Your blood runs cold when he speaks of murdering his own daughter you wanted to yell and scream at him tell him how sick in the head he was but you couldn't whatever drugs Jacob had in you was making you unable to move.

You watched helplessly as Jacob wound up the box and everything went black.

When you woke up you were surrounded by dead bodies you didn't recognize but you knew you killed them sickness curled into your stomach and you held your breath at the stench of death.

You walked away from the scene with one thought

I'm going to kill the fucking seed Brothers

✟✟✟✟✟✟✟✟✟

You killed Faith a week after

You felt guilty when she died, because she was a victim of the seed Brothers, just a young girl, but it was a necessary evil to save Whitehorse and the rest — so why did you feel so guilty?

After her death you buried her in a field of bliss flowers facing the sunset. You hoped she would be okay with the placement you would've left her there like everyone else's bodies you left but you knew joseph wouldn't give a fuck he'd probably leave her body to rot and not give her a proper burial and she at least deserved that for what she had to deal with.

You spent the day carving a wooden cross and sticking it over her grave. You didn't know her date of birth or anything so the only thing you could put was her name. Once again you hoped she wouldn't mind.

The recording that follows after is as you'd expect soulless he talks about her coldly as if her death had no effect on him it made you clench your fists into the chair you were sat on you didn't really hurt him with this death you frowned at the anxious anger that makes you want to kill him

✟✟✟✟✟✟✟✟✟

1 month later

It is the day of your 21st birthday and yet you are stuck killing Joseph's followers . It sucks but it's the life you have now.

Twenty more minutes before you're officially twenty one you tell yourself— as another Peggy bites a bullet, there were tons of them but it's what you expect ever since the last meeting with Jacob he'd doubled his forces everywhere and as annoying as that was you understood why, he knew you weren't playing games when you took Faith's life he could see the sweltering rage in your eyes when joseph spoke of what he'd did to his only child— and he knew Faith's death was a message.

A knife into the Peggy's throat slicing the cartilage you leave them behind to choke on their blood you needed to be careful now you were getting closer to Jacob you just knew it — you couldn't afford to let him catch you off guard to finally use you like a tool once more to kill innocent men and women.

"Deputy-" a voice, his voice rang out tauntingly from the radio on your hip.

Gritting your teeth you grab it and await anything else the asshole might have to say

"You're making quite the stir, killing my men," he says and you can hear hatred "all to find me" he chuckles it's slow and deep and you hate that you thought it sounded nice. "I'm not going to bore you so let's get straight to the point, I'm ready to end this little game of ours, meet me at Joseph's chapel don't keep me waiting"

You frown at the term 'game' it makes sense for someone as cruel as him to see this as a game yet it angers you no less.

You make it in record time granted breaking every speed law possible but you wanted to get this over with because you don't want your soulmate's first emotion of yours to be something unpleasant and that's really all you feel when you think or see of the seed Brothers.

You slam open the chapel doors surprised to see the seed brothers waiting patiently. All three of the seed Brothers in one room this must be hell.

"not playing fair jacob?" You mutter wearily eyeing the brothers for weapons.

"Nobody said I had to play fair" Jacob said he looked like he was going to say more but Joseph raised his hand and you waited with baited breath watching Joseph take his sweet time to look at you and finally speak.

"The end is coming, deputy you can feel it can't you, can see it in the news, humanity is at its brink it's only so long until humanity as we know it finally collapses"

"I think you're crazy," you retorted.

"Well, whether you want to believe it or not this world will end sometime soon."

"And you believe your God has told you this?" You ask incredulously

He smiles though it isn't a real one "I know to you I look like a fool wrapped up in his own self grandeur but I truly believe I am helping these people if only you wouldn't get in my way" his voice now venomous he steps forward and you reach for your gun.

He doesn't seem scared.

"You, at first I couldn't figure out why God had allowed you to survive, after all he wanted me to save people and here he was leading you straight to us, and then I thought 'this must be my test" he takes a few more steps forward removing his glasses as he speaks and you point the gun directly at him watching for any sign of hostility

"You see deputy John thought you were pride, but I can see it in your eyes you are not pride you are wrath! Wrath that has been so misguided, what you need is a master someone to show you the way. I will be your master deputy. I will show you what God meant for you when he blessed you with the sin of wrath" your gun was against his bare chest now.

You look into his eyes ready to spit back a retort but you can't because when you look into eyes you can feel him it's almost as though you can feel his soul and it nearly knocks you to the ground with its power over you. you stop breathing and you watch as his face turns from confusion to excitement all the while you were still struggling with the information you had newly learned; Joseph seed was your soulmate you were all too aware of his emotions now his confusion anger hatred and then just like that it evaporated when he met your gaze "It seems God may have had other plans for us" joseph practically purrs stepping forth to touch you no doubt aching for skin to skin contact just as you were.

You step back instead of allowing yourself to fully feel him, you look to Jacob and then to John for help, maybe for them to shoot you yet instead you are shocked again when you can feel their emotions nearly as strongly as Joseph's.

John's hatred disappears and he looks at you with a boyish grin you would've thought charming if you didn't know who he was. "Deputy- I-I'm so excited God has decided to bring us together" he says striding forward excitement in his baby blue eyes.

you are not excited about this not one bit in fact you are terrified. terrified because a small part of you is begging to reach out and touch them to allow them to give you the love you desperately crave; when did you start craving love so violently that it makes you damn near sick!?

Even if your entire body craved them your mind did not it was restless looking for answer's; how could you be expected to love these murderers. They were sick and diluted and now an irrational part of you wished you could ease the sickness In them and fix whatever had started them down this path the rational part knew better. You knew better and so you took another step back.

John stopped in his tracks and frowned when he saw the clear as day rejection within your eyes; you wanted nothing to do with any of them and you made it clear with the look on your face.

You didn't know what to do anymore. The gun you were sure you'd have to use on the seed Brothers suddenly felt heavy. Suddenly you were unsure that you could, no, that you would kill them given the opportunity and you wished the ground would swallow you whole so you wouldn't have to make that choice so that you don't have to think about the fact that you were destined to be with three people who have tortured murdered and brainwashed innocent people; the people you swore to protect.

"Deputy-" you turned tail and ran listening to John and Jacob shout for you to come back but you didn't even spare them a glance you couldn't or else you were afraid you might be tempted to stay. You had come here with the intention of murdering Jacob seed and saving deputy Pratt and now you are running away from what was probably your only viable option.

You wanted to go home to leave this damn place and never come back. The idea itself was tempting but you knew you wouldn't be able to stay away.

It is only apparent to you once you're far away from the chapel that they had let you run that they didn't chase after you and a part of you was hurt perhaps they hadn't found you worthy enough? You shook your head reminding yourself that it didn't matter that you were still enemies and you'd have to kill them someday soon especially if you wanted to save Pratt and Hudson.

_______

John wanted to cry

The one person who was meant to love him scars and all just ran away from him— it was rejection and he knew it. The hatred he felt for the deputy completely disappeared and was replaced with a distant longing that made his insides ache.

"Joseph, why didn't you let me chase after them!?" He growled, turning to his older brother. He didn't understand what the hell Joseph was thinking when he had stopped John from chasing after what was rightfully his. What God had decided was his.

"They will come back, God would not give us them just to take them away" John didn't buy that shit it made no sense he and joseph both knew God could be fickle he wanted to trust his brother to believe him but he couldn't and joseph must've sensed that because he put an arm on his brothers shoulders "you need to trust me John, trust me like you always have— I can promise you deputy will be back they will be in our arms soon enough" he turned towards Jacob giving him a nod before sighing "let us return to our homes we need to rest and I need to ask God for guidance" John could only nod and bite his tongue and leave the chapel just as he and Jacob walked out the doors he heard a faint "trust in me as you will trust in God I swear deputy will not be gone long" he said nothing and response as did Jacob and left.

On the drive home he knew one thing

He was going to get the deputy back. What Joseph said didn't matter, he doesn't care if he has to fight Joseph every step of the way he will get his deputy and he will bring them home

_____

Might restructure this entire thing and make it into a fic who knows I didn't really like how this turned out tbh.

#joseph seed x reader #john seed x deputy #john seed x reader #jacob seed x reader

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