#john seed x the deputy

[paradlselost]

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?”

[chizups]

How it started VS how it's going. Look, I found another joke on Pinterest.

No arrest - No reaping AU

Salome Ann "Sunny" Clock as a Deputy put a hell of an effort into keeping semi good relationship with Seeds and peggies to keep them away from other people at least for some time. Her good intentions was praised only by the cult, meanwhile sheriff's office and Hope County people started to see her as Seed sympathizer, which had a negative impact on their attitude towards her. Girl only tried her best to keep some balance in these challenging times...

John saw her as many things and felt many feelings towards Sunny. Mostly negative for a good while. Which was mutual in some cases, but in general Salome tried to find a common ground for them to meet on. Eventually John realized that whatever negativity he felt towards her really became an anger at himself for developing a liking for Salome. He asked Joseph for advice on how to get rid of these feelings, but bro just advised John to embrace it, since there is nothing wrong with feeling sympathy towards the Deputy. John took a minute to digest the idea, but after that changed drastically his behavior towards Salome, starting to literally court her.

Not like anyone paid attention I imagine, but friendly reminder that it is based on alternative course of events: Deputy doesn't arrest Joseph >> Joseph doesn't see a sign to start The Reaping - The Reaping doesn't happen, peggies are armed but fairly peaceful, sticking to their territory, no corpse totems in the fields, all the violence kept a semi-secret. And of course we're keeping it funny haha cartoon sketches in this blog until my PMS hits or something lol

[enormality]

they need couples therapy ASAP!!

[imgnnafurgf]

Farcry5 where everything is the same but it's just Seeds really pissed off because deputy is taller than all of them and every time they just get more creative how to look taller

Faith would fly

Jacob stands on a box on his presentation time

Joseph never gets off the stage

John learns how to wear high heels

[lulu2992]

I don’t have an explanation for this; it just needed to be drawn.

It looks like they’re having a good time, though!

[animasolascreenshots]

[felassanis]

Sometimes you need something as simple as John Seed being reversed so it looks like he's straddling Rook

[miles-is-so-gay]

what if the jr deputy had whatsapp huh what would happen

[wrathfulrook]

Traitor

Patience has feelings for John and picks him over the resistance. It doesn't go well for her.

A stand-alone in the oneshot collection, In Which Bad Things Happen to Junior Deputy Patience Ekner.

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

Rating: M

Word count: ~2.5k

Read it on ao3.

He almost hadn’t gone with her. Why would he? But in the end, it hadn’t been up to him.

John wasn’t sure whether he was more surprised to see the deputy in his home, or more irritated that she managed to get inside unnoticed. Actually, she seemed more surprised to see him, as if it wasn’t his own house. Though, John was a bit of an insomniac, so perhaps her surprise was more that he was fully dressed and walking around nearing three in the morning.

In any case, both overcame any surprise when she became panicked and desperate, begging him to leave with her.

“You don’t understand,” she’d pleaded, her face reddening. “They’re coming for you. You have no idea what they plan to do to you!”

He’d laughed at that. The only member of the resistance he was worried about was her, and he certainly didn’t intend to go off with her, not even if this supposed ambush was real. Which of course, it wasn’t, because why on earth would she try to save him from her own people?

The resistance must truly be getting desperate in order to try something so pathetically transparent.

But, then he heard the explosions, the gunfire, the shouts, on the far end of his property. Her eyes had widened as if in terror and her pleading began anew. Well, then, perhaps an ambush was occurring. But what was her game?

He hadn’t even seen her swinging the table lamp at him.

When he woke, he was sprawled across the dingy, pilling sofa in some prepper’s tiny bunker. The lighting was fluorescent and dim and the air stale. And the deputy was pacing anxiously, her long braided ponytail disheveled, her pale, freckled face looking even whiter than usual. A handheld radio was held tightly in her grip, the plastic visibly biting into her skin. She twisted the knob compulsively, flipping between multiple channels, each one broadcasting a similar message in a different voice.

Deputy, come in Deputy – Patience? Are you there? – Please respond, Deputy – Come in…

So this wasn’t part of the resistance’s plan, then. She had, in fact, gone AWOL to save him.

The deputy screamed in frustration and threw her radio at the concrete wall, cracking the plastic shell to reveal the metal and wire viscera inside.

John laughed. “My, my, what a predicament you’ve gotten yourself into.”

She whirled to face him, her blonde braid whipping around behind her. Her face softened, her grey eyes widening when she saw him awake. And, oh, but he couldn’t help but smile smugly. Was she truly that easy? Had it really only taken a bit of charm and flirtation interspersed among his radio threats to make her look at him like that?

She rushed to his side. “Are you hurt?”

“From where you hit me over the head, you mean?” he asked, one eyebrow arched in smug disbelief. “I’ll be fine. I doubt the same could be said about you, though.”

John stood up, ignoring the pounding headache and what was surely a goose egg on the back of his head. He supposed he was lucky the moony woman hadn’t accidentally killed him with that blow.

“What will you do now, my dear?” he taunted her, one hand coming up to caress her cheek. She actually leaned into his touch, the poor fool. And as easily as he touched her, he even more easily pulled it away. “What are you going to do now that you’ve betrayed the resistance so thoroughly, stealing me away in the night before they could get me in their grips? I doubt they’ll forgive you…”

She was breathing heavily, her heart racing in obvious panic.

“We’ll stay here a few days. Just until the search for either of us dies down a bit. And then you can go back the cul- the Project. This bunker had been abandoned for a while when I found it and I never told anyone about it; you’ll be safe here for now.”

He nodded, still smiling in disbelief at his luck.

“And will you come with me when I go? Will you finally Confess and Atone and quit your sinful crusade against our holy work? I’m sure you’d be able to find your purpose, once your sin had been exposed and absolved.”

The deputy shook her head no, adamant in her stubborn resolve. “I will never join the cult.”

“It isn’t a cult, my dear.

“But, then, why save me? You won’t come to the Project; you can’t go back to the resistance. You have nowhere to go. So, why did you do it?”

There was a tense silence, a flash of fear punctuating the tender look in her eyes. “I couldn’t let them do that to you. What they planned- you have no idea…”

“Tell me.”

She shook her head again, face reddening in an effort not to tear up. In reaction to her current circumstances? Or in reaction to the idea of some horrible fate befalling him?

“Tell me,” he demanded again.

“They wanted- well, I’m assuming you know Matthew 7:12?”

“Of course.” He arched an eyebrow in pleasant surprise that this heathen woman had at least a passing familiarity with scripture. “‘Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.’”

“Well, that’s what they wanted.” Her gaze hardened. “They wanted to eviscerate you and fill your hollowed out torso with bliss flowers. They wanted to wrap your body in barbed wire and suspend it from the rafters of the Henbane bridge for all to see. They wanted to stake your hands together and drive antlers through your skull, a real ‘greatest hits’ the corpses you and yours have displayed.”

She was practically shaking with raw anger at that point. Whether at the resistance for planning such a fate for him, or at him for not taking her seriously, John couldn’t tell. In any case, he grinned.

“Oh?” he asked nonchalantly. “How macabre. Why didn’t you let them? I know you think I deserve it.”

“No.” Patience was firm and decisive in her answer. How adorable. How pathetic. “No, I do not think anyone deserves any of the shit you do to them, and I certainly don’t want to turn around and do it to you. I’m a cop. I didn’t sign up for torture; I didn’t sign up for executions.”

How rich. The young woman had killed so many faithful he doubted she could even keep count. No, he knew this wasn’t about her supposed fidelity to the legal system.

He reached his hand out again, noting the flash of something in her eyes, and gently gripped her chin, tilting her face up towards his. She let him.

“No, no. You’ve taken your wrath out on my brothers and sisters time and time again. Don’t try to play ‘good cop’ now. You’re not fooling me, my dear. That’s not why you saved me. Tell me the truth.”

Her eyes flashed fear. She was so obvious. Was this truly the best the resistance had to offer?

“It’s not that you wouldn’t let them do that,” he continued. “It’s that you wouldn’t let them do that to me. And I want you to tell me why.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” A lie. She continued to let him hold her face, her freckled cheeks dusted with pink. Embarrassment? Lust?

“Oh, yes, you do. It’s painfully obvious. You wear your heart on your sleeve, don’t you, my dear?” When her eyes widened in outrage at the accusation, he soothed her by gently stroking his thumb over her cheek, mocking in his eyes. “It’s alright… I’m flattered. Don’t worry, I’ll keep your little crush a secret.”

Rage flashed in her eyes, and she forcefully shoved him back. “You’re talking out of your ass, Seed.”

John smiled smugly and offered up his hands as if in surrender. She certainly was easy to read.

“Alright, alright,” he humored her. “If not that, then why? Why save me from your own people? And don’t try pulling that good cop routine with me again. You don’t intend to Atone, but you certainly can’t go back to the resistance. By saving me, you painted a huge target on yourself. You’re all alone… no allies, no friends… Whatever will you do?”

“Oh, shut the hell up.”

John took a step closer to her, noting how she made no moves to step back or otherwise keep the distance between them. He kept his facial expression steady, despite the amusement that observation provided him.

“Why did you save me?”

Her brows furrowed – stress, fear, overwhelming emotion.

“I don’t know.”

He closed the distance between them once again, but kept his hands to himself for now.

“Of course you do. You saved me at great personal expense. There’s no reason to do that. Well… no reason but the one.”

He smiled down at her, almost sweetly. Her lips parted slightly and she inhaled with a nearly inaudible stuttering gasp. But John was an observant man. He pressed his advantage by placing a steadying hand on her waist, affecting a quiet, intimate tone as he spoke.

“You care for me, don’t you?”

She didn’t reply.

“More than just care,” he continued. “You’ve essentially traded your life for mine. There’s no way the resistance will let you live after what you’ve done. But you know that, don’t you? You’re no fool, Deputy. You knew what you were doing… trading your life for that of the man you love.”

His eyes flickered across her face, tight and red. He wasn’t sure exactly what it was- shame, anger, grief? He looked down at her, studying her features. The dark circles under her eyes, the unkempt flyaways escaping her braid, the heavy scent of campfire smoke that permeated her clothes and hair… He took it all in with a clinical detachment.

And he wondered what she was taking in about him. Probably the sharp scent of his cologne, the body heat rolling off of him, the weight of his hand on her waist... Though, he doubted there was any sort of detachment between Patience and her observations of him.

“Because you do love me, don’t you?”

She said nothing, face growing redder.

He smirked down at her, hand flexing, gripping her waist. “I barely had to do anything, did I? I didn’t even have to try. A little attention, a little flirting, and here you are. Falling on your sword and betraying your own people for-“

Patience lashed out and slapped him across the face.

He stepped back in stunned surprise, hand coming up to soothe his stinging cheek. And then his eyes narrowed as a hot wave of anger came over him. John couldn’t deny the little thrill he got from seeing the flash of fear in her eyes as he pinned her to the wall with a hand on her throat, careful and controlled enough not to crush her windpipe, but firm enough to hold her in place.

“You little…” he hissed down at her before wrangling his fury under control. “Did that make you feel better? Did it make you feel good, knowing you hit the man you love just to make sure he takes you seriously? Hm? You’re a pathetic little girl, Deputy. You think a little slap is going to make me feel bad about what I say?

“Well, I hope it did make you feel better, because guess what? None of it matters. You threw your life away for me. Your own people will hunt you down and slaughter you like an animal for your betrayal. And you made that choice. For me.”

Her face was beet red with the effort to hold back her tears, but he didn’t stop. Why would he? She had saved him from certain doom and crippled the resistance by knocking out herself as their figurehead, all in one fell swoop. The sadistic and pleasurable rush of power he felt right then was intoxicating, and he had no intention of ending it anytime soon.

“It’s pathetic how easy you made this all for me. And despite it all, I bet you’d still give anything for me to hold you in my arms, to kiss away your tears… is that it?” His laugh was biting. “And you don’t regret it at all do you? You’d save me again, wouldn’t you?”

She didn’t answer and didn’t meet his eyes, so he harshly gripped her chin and made her meet his eyes.

“Wouldn’t you?”

“…yes.”

“Yes,” he repeated smugly. “You would.”

His long fingers traced over her plush lips, and she nearly melted under his attentions. Pathetic.

“Oh, Deputy, I’d have enjoyed you very much. Such a beautiful, young woman, so desperate to please me.” He smirked. “I can only imagine how much I would have loved that.”

The look of desperation in her eyes, it was so simultaneously ego-boosting and pitiful to John.

He scoffed as he took his hands off her and stepped away with a cold smile.

“But lust is a sin. And unlike you, I’m no sinner.”

~

John had left without incident. Patience had stayed. But the bunker had been abandoned for a reason. How long could she hide there until she ran out of supplies? He kept his ear to the ground, waiting to hear of any incidents involving the deputy. But he still hadn’t heard of any sightings. She was laying low.

He opened up his front door, breathing in the crisp morning air. But as he took a step out, he stumbled over something, sloshing hot coffee out of his mug and onto the deputy’s face below.

As he looked down at her strewn across his doorstep, he raised a single eyebrow, partially in surprise, and partially in irritation that his useless men had allowed anyone to get so close to his house. He took a sip of the scalding coffee as his eyes scanned over her body. The note pinned to her jacket caught his attention. FOR JOHN, written in bold script. He ripped the note from her and unfolded the torn paper, reading the message inside.

Here's your whore back.

He snorted in amusement. So, the resistance had caught up with her after all. ‘His whore.’ Interesting. Had they assumed the foolish woman’s feelings were mutual? Idiots. She’d done a lot for their cause. Likely would have continued to, if they hadn’t taken her out.

John contemplatively looked her over as he sipped at his morning cup of joe, admiring the theatrics of their work. On her forehead was the Project’s cross, clearly carved into the thin skin when she was still alive, based on the sloppy work. The hot coffee he’d accidentally splashed onto her face pooled in the divots of the wound and in the corners of her unseeing eyes. Lower down, on her chest, also obviously work she’d endured while conscious, was the word TRAITOR, carved in all capital letters.

Clearly an homage to the tattoos he gifted to Confessed sinners.

In their attempt to get back at him, the resistance had given him a gift. Truly, the Lord works in mysterious ways.

John radioed out for his men to clean up the mess at his door, then closed the door and went back inside to refill his mug.

[atrxcities]

you get me closer to God.

[inafieldofdaisies]

Ship Art | John x Sabrina | The Diviner and The Baptist | Commission by @derelictheretic

“Kiss me, mercilessly. Leave no corner of me untouched.” — Beau Taplin

[tags] @socially-awkward-skeleton @strangefable @strafethesesinners @onehornedbeast @josephslittledeputy @trench-rot @adelaidedrubman @voidika @aceghosts @madparadoxum @theelderhazelnut @direwombat @florbelles @corvosattano @unholymilf @nightbloodbix @josephseedismyfather @macs-babies

[paradlselost]

RADIO WAVES

john seed x female deputy

My first fanfic on here so apologies for anything wrong. I’ve only stalked other fics, never posted myself. Also not my favorite writing 🙏

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.”

[chizups]

I saw a funny post on the internet and really wanted to illustrate it.

Salome and John aren't very loved by their neighbors. Or is it just John... Salome hopes he won't throw too many grenades into other people's houses.

The more I draw him, the more effort I put into these tattoos.

Not sure about Salome's outfit, but what's done is done. I'll come up with something later.

unGIFed version just... in case.

[flare-queen]

Deputy, Seeds and Babies.

[imgnnafurgf]

Deputy: *gets in the car after hanging out with Sharky*

John, over the radio: and you're wasting your time for THAT. This man jokes about your mother. I would never.

Deputy, tired tone, absolutely used to that shit: he made the joke about twenty minutes ago. How long you've been waiting for me?

John:

John: 4 hours.

[lulu2992]

“Welcome.”

In exactly two years in the timeline of “that fic I’ll never write”, on August 29th, 2026, Taylor and John will welcome their first child, a daughter named Eleanor Hope Seed.

I picked this middle name because it felt right (I doubt I’m the only one who’s had this idea for a Seed baby and/or Far Cry 5 OC) and her first name was inspired by Eleanor Lamb from BioShock 2, the character who awakened my parental instincts.

Between 2026 and 2035, the couple will have a total of four children. In fact, until very recently (about a month and a half ago), I would have said three, but I decided to also include a last son, originally from a sort of New Dawn AU I had. It suddenly made me very sad that he didn’t exist in the “main” timeline, so I fixed that :)