AU concept: For whatever reason (existing relationship, serious pity, an oppurtunity to spy), the Deputy agrees to help John out by pretending they are ABSOLUTELY converted yes sir, Whoo Hoo Eden's Gate! Hijinks ensue.
Warnings: Strong language. Some hints of angst.
“Blessings to the Father,” Rook said, shaking the hand of the elderly Project woman as she left the church.
Beside her, John Seed sighed.
“Nobody says that,” he hissed quietly as they tried to make their way to his truck as covertly as possible.
“Why not?” Rook asked, fiddling with the collar of her scratchy dress. “It’s a perfectly cultish thing to say!”
They made their way to the car; dirt crunching under their feet in the driveway. Joseph hadn’t kept them too long, thankfully, and Rook half wondered if most of the sermon hadn’t been for her benefit. It was, after all, her first.
“We’re not a cult,” John scowled at her, warning and gesturing that she should keep her voice down. “And definitely do not let anyone hear you say that.”
Rook sighed, rolling her head back and taking a few exaggerated huffs as John opened the passenger side of the truck for her - ever the gentleman, he was. She hoisted herself into the seat while John made his way to the driver’s side.
It was as he shut the door behind him that Faith Seed appeared at Rook’s window.
“Sweet fuck!” Rook shrieked, jolting in place and clutching her chest.
John whipped his hand to the side to hold her shoulder; perhaps expecting her to try and attack or do something foolish in her shock. To be fair, she usually would have.
“Language, Deputy,” John said through gritted teeth, and she scowled at him as his nails dug into her shoulder. He smiled at his sister, and Rook noticed that it was the most strained expression she had ever seen. “Forgive her, Faith. Old habits.”
Rook nodded slowly, still eyeing the other woman warily but trying to back John up nonetheless.
“I completely understand,” Faith replied, smiling warmly at the Deputy but there was something utterly too sharp about her eyes that made Rook want to shiver. “I’ve been through the transition period myself. Letting go of sin…it’s not an easy path.”
John’s hand fell from her shoulder, but Rook still felt the tension increase.
“She doesn’t need your help,” he said, eyes narrow but smile still perfectly in place. “She’s got me.”
“Of course,” Faith replied, unwavering. “But should she want someone with more experience”-
“Trust me,” John cut her off, smile widening ever-so-slightly, “I have more than enough experience for her benefit.”
Rook rolled her eyes.
“I sense we’re not talking about transitioning to the cult anymore,” Rook commented slowly, sighing.
“I told you not to call it that,” John muttered, shooting her a glare.
She shrugged innocently and was about to reply with something extremely witty, no doubt, when another voice interrupted them.
This was a commission for the lovely @outranks, thank you so much for commissioning me lad and ahh thank you for all of your amazing support
Summary: John Seed tries to confess his feelings to the Deputy. Unfortunately, he’s not very good at it.
Warnings:
Implied intimate relationship, some mild violence.
Rook really shouldn’t have been surprised that Nick Rye had managed to squirrel away some of the best food in the county.
Not that she was complaining; the way things were around Hope County, she was grateful to have a place to get a rare glimpse at dessert when the sweet tooth beckoned.
So as she sat down, it was, of course, just her luck that her radio clicked to life.
“Deputy,” the familiar, saccharine voice of John Seed greeted her, and she closed her eyes in a grimace.
“What do you want, John?” She asked, holding the spoonful of her sugary prize inches from her mouth.
“I have a gift waiting for you, dear. A gesture of sorts, you could say,” came his response, and her eyebrows rose. His last gift had left her pleasantly sore for quite a few days, and so she lowered her spoon expectantly. He continued, smug now that he knew he had her attention. “Go the Lamb of God church. You’ll see what I mean.”
The click ended the call, and Rook gave a forlorn glance down to her cup of ice-cream.
“Guess you’ll have to wait,” she muttered with a pout. “Good dick waits for no dessert.”
The day was clear as she drove per his instructions; the weather brisk but sunny, and she was soon able to spot the out-of-place sign by the brick walls of the church. Frowning, Rook pulled up and peered out the side of her window, narrowing her eyes.
The sign was deliberately placed in front of the brick wall, and featured some old business advertisement - likely defunct by now. There was a number listed across the sign, a triple 4 in the middle and the rest redacted with black paint. Above that, rather concerningly, was written:
Kill you
xxxx-444-xxx
Rook scoffed at the scene, jerking back and slamming down on the accelerator; trying to sort through her confused anger and utter bewilderment.
“What the fuck, John?” She hissed into the radio, not even checking if he was there. “Fuck, if this is your way of telling me you want to end…whatever this is, then I really don’t appreciate it.”
There wasn’t even a pause before he answered.
“What?” He replied, and if she wasn’t so irritated, she might have noticed how equally confused he sounded. “Didn’t you see my message?”
“Yeah, I did,” she said and shook her head, even though he wouldn’t see it. “I don’t know what the fuck you want from me, but don’t contact me.”
She turned the radio off, deaf to his spluttering protests. Perhaps, if she weren’t distracted by her own reaction to his perceived death threat, she might have questioned his confusion. As it was, the message was sore; her recent relationship with John leading her to believe that something had at least changed between them.
“It’s just John Seed,” Nick reassured her later over dinner, “I wouldn’t think too hard about it.”
Rook tried to smile back at him over the plate of barbecued meat in her hands but she didn’t manage much more than a grimace.
“Don’t worry, Dep,” Nick continued, obliviously. “He won’t get his hands on you.”
She choked, coughing to hide the surprise and her embarrassment with another shovel of meat in her mouth.
“That’s…That’s not the problem,” Rook replied, because John Seed had most definitely already had his hands on her before, and she hadn’t been complaining.
thank you so much for requesting, this was a lot of fun to write!! and I hope it was the right prompt bc the numbers show up differently depending on if I’m on mobile or desktop ;alsdk’a. so I went with
“We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.” ❤️❤️❤️
John Seed / Female Deputy
—
There are a lot of benefits to sleeping with John Seed. The fully stocked kitchen is one of them, the water pressure in his ridiculously elaborate shower is another. And those things alone would be enough just to keep Rook coming back, again and again, but then there’s also, somehow, John himself. Deep down, past the prickly exterior and the religious fanaticism, is a man she actually enjoys spending time with.
As it turns out, after their first, somewhat awful, meeting they actually got along pretty well.
Eventually, one night, before Rook could talk herself into leaving, she’d kissed him instead. It all felt a lot like an inevitable conclusion to everything they’d been building up to. Especially when the night ended with John between her legs, making her reconsider her stance on God.
Being with John is great, it’s fantastic, it’s a little frustrating that after months of this he never wants to talk about what their relationship might actually be.
“I’m just saying, penguins, you know?”
John pauses as he’s crouched on the floor beside the bed, pulling Rook’s jeans off of her. “What?”
The Bet and The Fallen Angel (John Seed x Female Deputy)
my dearest @fanficsforheartandsoul, i don’t know i could give what you asked but i hope you like it! I can’t help myself but writing a hecking long one this time :*
Summary:deputy has a plane accident because of a bet and John looks after her.
Words: 1571
Warning: (possible) angst. swearing.
“I saw that you were too bad for flying that plane, Rook. No one can manage everything they want.” (y/n) knows that Dutch is serious about that but she sees that smirk on his face.
“No, man. I can do that. I will prove you all wrong about me.” She is not so sure about that of course, she knows her own weakness, at this point, is flying a plane.
“Well Chica, you know I trust you in everything but you shouldn’t be trying that one. You almost killed us one time you hit the pine tree.” Sharky explains.
(Y/N) rolls her eyes. “Yeah Sharky, but look at you. You still alive! Well, if you keep talking like that, I can assure you it won’t last long.”
“How about a bet?” This one is Nick speaking. “I mean, I told her everything, and she can almost everything. Why will she fuck up this time? I believe you girl.” He pats her shoulder.
They all agree to bet and here we go, she is on her plane. This time it’s not for “liberating” the outposts, but for showing off.
It feels amazing at first, feeling the wind on the wings of the plane, doing some amazing maneuvers… She can feel the freedom inside the plane. But there is something she doesn’t consider. The weather.
Suddenly, the sky is darkened above her. The clouds merge together as they are dancing for the rain. The wind is now as angry as a bull and scattering the plane heavily. The time of day doesn’t help her, either. It is twilight time and sun will set soon.
“PAT!” Something hits the plane and throws off the plane’s balance. She isn’t able to make the plane balanced again. She feels fear. Pure and too heavy to forget about.
She calls Nick for help. “Nick. Something hit us. I cannot gain the control of the plane anymore. Over.”
“How bad is it?”
“If I don’t do something now, I will end up stalling on a fucking tree!”
“I can see you. Detach, Rook. Detach. NOW!”
She jumps off the plane and rips the cord. Parachute opens like a wing, but there is too much wind to handle it. No, she has no luck this time.
***
There is someone else that listens their radio calls. John Seed freaks out when he learns about the “fucking” bet. And now, his precious Deputy tries not to die.
He calls his guards. “Gather up, now.”
***
Deputy feels the fall, the stings on her all body. She whimpers from the pain, a branch thrusts into her arm. She isn’t able to move a muscle. Semi-conscious, she cries out while trying to pull that out.
“She’s here!” Before she sees who is talking, she passes out.
A time she opens her eyes and sees a familiar face. With a big goatee on his chin, John is walking with her on his arms. He doesn’t seem he is complaining. Without realizing her awake state, he pulls her closer to his chest. “You won’t die in my arms. You can’t die. If you die, I will hate you for rest of my life. You hear me?”
She tries to say something. Strangely, she wants to soothe him, tell him she’s okay. But there is no energy left to say all those words. He is so warm and soft, contrasting to his broad and firm chest. John’s cold fingers touch her bare skin on her waist. She shivers from the cold, makes John pulling her closer, if that’s possible. Now her head lies into crook of his neck. The smell of him is calming and so beautiful for her nostrils. It smells “too” John; like a wavy ocean and pine trees, with violet and vanilla essences. So fresh, yet so intimidating. She knits her eyebrows to ease her vision, but she passes out again after all.
***
She wakes up from a whistle she hears on his ears. She opens her eyes and nothing in the room seems familiar, except one thing. John Seed.
The source of the whistle is him. He stands right beside you but his mind is somewhere else obviously. He looks like he is pain or in despair.
She tries to move, to wake him up from his dreams, yet she feels immense pain when she attempts to.
John is wide awake now. “Don’t. Move. A. Fucking. Muscle.” His eyes is flashing with fear and anger. His face is senseless, almost frozen. He is afraid.
Rook opens his mouth to say something but her voice cracks. Her throat is sore from dehydration.
“Here, drink up.” John extends her hand with a glass of water. She lets John to make her drink. She has no power to do that alone. “Thank you.” She whispers to him.
He waves his hand as “no problem” and adds. “Please give me a notice when you try to kill yourself. I wasn’t prepare for that.”
A smile twitches on her mouth. “I will keep you noted. Where am I?”
“You are in my humble home.” John smiles but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “I was the first one who reached you. Before your ‘precious’ friends. Don’t worry, I’ve told them you’re here with me.”
“How long have I been asleep?” She thinks she is asleep for just about a few hours.
He tilts his head, waits a moment to answer. “Two and a half days.” He moves closer. “Two fucking days you were asleep, lying on the bed motionless. Like a dead person. You’ve lost too much blood because of the fall. A couple of broken ribs, a cracked wrist, millions of pine needles stuck into your whole body.” He is lost in thought. He begins to raise his voice. “When you stood still on the dirt, in the blood ‘lake’ of yours,” he makes a face as he is loathing. “I thought you were dead. I thought I was too late!” He kicks the end table standing right beside the bed. Table falls with a noise.
His unstable state scares her to death. But she knows that she has to calm down. He is afraid because of her. Damn Clutch Nixon bet.
He continues to speak again with a husky voice. “Fortunately, turns out we have the same blood type. Peter was afraid that you had an internal bleeding. But no, you were just tired from the blood loss. Ah! I almost forgot. You have a concussion, too.”
Rook is speechless. She knows she is in a bad shape because of the pain she feels but, she would be end up dead, if John didn’t come on time.
“You should have killed me when you had a chance.” She says smoothly. They are enemies after all.
“I fucking saved your life, deputy. Show me some gratitude.” He touches her chin. “It hurts, doesn’t it?” he moves away a little. “You shall reach the atonement, remember? Or the gates of Eden will shut for me. You were there.” His sadness is unbearable. “Who the fuck taught you to fly a plane?”
“Nick.”
He grins. “That explains everything. You know, I can teach you if you want. I am better than him. Well, forget the teaching, you won’t even touch a plane after you heal. You moron.” He shakes his head unapprovingly.
An awkward silence occurs in the room. Unsayable words are flying between them. There is everything and nothing between John and Rook. Their silence becomes almost touchable. The first one to tear the cloud of emotions is John. “I should get going. You need some rest.”
He walks towards the door. As soon as he moves away from her, the fear creeps her up. This place is ‘foreign’ for her. So cold, so senseless. It’s nothing like the room she stays normally. The spare room of Nick and Kim’s.
“John!” she yelps to him. “Don’t go. Please.”
He stands still for a second. She knows that he calculates the possibilities. “Why?” he protests. “You were so fearless when you flew that fucking plane!” he runs his hand through his hair. “You know what, I am tired. I should go.” He is about to leave when he hears her cries.
“Please” she cries out. “Don’t leave me here.” At that time she sees the black circles under his eyes. He probably has been staying with her for two days. “I need you. Don’t leave me. You are right I am afraid. I am so sorry.” She doesn’t know why actually she apologize for but these words make John’s eyes soften. She raises his head to look at him. “Please John, I beg you.”
“Just shut up already.” John closes the door and runs to her. He kisses the only place that hasn’t bruised yet. He lies beside her.
“Thank you.” She sobs. “I’ll behave.”
She falls asleep as soon as she feels his warm body around her. He gazes her crooked face with admiration. “One of us will kill the other. I don’t know the exact cause of death. Maybe a gun, maybe even a knife. But I am afraid of just one thing, Deputy. You can kill me with the feelings I have for you. The fact is creeping me out.”
He looks at her one last time before he leaves. Her face looks like an angel to him. A stupid, fatally damaged angel.
So this is what tackled the writer’s block aljksdhasj
Pairing: John Seed x F!Deputy Rating: SFW This is just angst.
Rook has ill placed hopes when it comes to what to expect of a relationship with John Seed. That’s what Addie has told her million and one times since this whole thing began, and she trusts her judgment more than she trusts her own. Because it’s not so much a relationship but a dramatic sway that effectively goes from hard fucks to soft aftermaths when she feels him teeming with feelings about to burst, before his hackles go up. Shut tight, just like now. And those unsaid words chaff her.
I hope you don’t mind, but I took some creative liberties with one of the prompts so that the dialogue would flow a little better. I hope it works for you too!
Pairing: John Seed x Female Deputy
Tags: Non-Cult AU, pregnancy, soft!John
————
She makes dinner. That’s how John knows something’s up. Not that he doesn’t mind the gesture, of course, but Rook is no chef, and he’s more or less taken over in the kitchen for the year or so they’ve been together.
John knows almost every part of her like the back of his hand, but even he can’t quite tell what’s on her mind tonight.
The possibilities buzz around inside his head. Rook is a hopeless romantic, he’s discovered, so he wouldn’t be surprised if this were some kind of strange, safe-for-work foreplay. It’s neither of their birthdays, their anniversary isn’t for another six months, and John is almost positive he hasn’t missed any major holidays. He has to admit — he’s intrigued.
“Fettuccini.”
The sound of the plate hitting the table in front of him breaks his train of thought. He’s amazed to find that it actually looks edible. Good, even.
He eyes the curve of Rook’s hip as she walks by him and pulls her chair out from the opposite end of the table. She sits, settles her plate in front of her, and meets his curious stare with a look of her own.
“Where’s the real Rook?” John asks. “The one that doesn’t know how to cook?”
“Aliens,” Rook suggests in her most serious voice. “The pasta is from a box. The sauce is from a jar. Hold your applause.”
John smiles at her lopsidedly. His life hasn’t always been happy, but this woman makes getting out of bed in the mornings worth it.
To John, there was perhaps nothing more tragic than watching a beautiful woman struggle with something she clearly didn’t want to do - and yet somehow, on this Tuesday night at the Spread Eagle, that was exactly what he was doing.
She was obviously uncomfortable in the situation based on the subtle way she shifted her dinnerware despite the fact that she wasn’t eating. Her attention was far more focused on that non-existent task at hand rather than on her date - a term John used very loosely. He’d seen quite a few unfortunate souls that had no knowledge of the inside of a basic barber shop since he’d entered the county, but he’d assumed that none of them could get close enough to another human being to ask them out, let alone make it to dinner and drinks with one.
The unkempt fellow (wearing an untucked plaid shirt to dinner, John might add) leaned across the table in a blissfully ignorant state and reached for her hand as though they were old lovers on their one-thousandth date, not their first.
John grimaced over his drink as he observed the uncomfortable exchange. Normally, he was quite happy to people-watch from across the bar and would have relished in watching this exchange occur between literally any other patrons.
She was just so stunning.
Never one to abandon a damsel in distress, John put his brain to work and formulated a quick plan. The jacket that their waiter had carelessly abandoned over a chair fit him rather snugly but would do the trick and the handful of menus he was able to snag on his way over were just the icing on the cake. He carefully tucked them under one arm before reaching for an unused dish tray and headed over to the table. It was a challenge to carefully re-arranging his expression into one he hope conveyed more apology than disgust the closer he got to the bedraggled man.
“So sorry to interrupt-” John began strong but his dazzling smile turned sour instantly.
The scruffy bastard sitting across from her had the nerve to shoot a glare his way for interrupting what was no doubt a riveting story. “Who the fuck’re you?”
Oh, this man was making it nearly impossible to remain impartial. “Terribly sorry to have to inconvenience you like this, but I’ve come to inform you that your waiter is currently indisposed. May have been due to the current atmosphere.”
“Indi- what?”
John ignored the guy’s incredulous expression to focus on her radiant smile; the second he saw her lips turn up at his obnoxious jargon, he knew he was done for. “Yes and unfortunately, some of the kitchen staff may have caught that, too. There will be an increased wait in service tonight due to these unforeseen circumstances.”
The man bristled, a laughable sight given just how bristly the guy appeared in the first place (and really, the fact that some people had still not heard of beard oil was astounding). “We’ve already been waiting here for an hour, the fuck do you mean an ‘increased wait’?”
“Your anger is understandable, sir,” John continued smoothly. The urge to smirk was almost too great when he could see the mirth in her eyes out of the corner of his, but he soldiered on. “Please, consider these drinks on the house tonight.”
With a long-suffering sigh, the guy stood and huffed, “You’re damn right they better be. Fuckin’ service is poorer than half the damn county.” And then, once he realized she hadn’t moved an inch, he added, “You comin’ or what?”
“I’d rather stay; the steak is just too good to pass up. But I’ll catch up with you tomorrow, alright?”
God, even her voice was something. John found himself almost weak in the knees at her words alone. Unfortunately for the poor bastard, her tone invited no argument and with another sigh, the guy slouched away from the table and out the door.
John dropped the waiter’s jacket and the act instantly. “For fuck’s sake, I thought he’d never leave.”
“You’re telling me,” she replied. The humor returned to her gorgeous eyes as she added, “So, Mr. ‘Indisposed’, you’re clearly not from here with that walking-Thesaurus of a vocabulary. What brings you to Hope County?”
“The name’s John Seed.” He extended his hand and was pleased that she took to his handshake immediately. “And what can I say, hearing beautiful women in distress brings me running from far and wide every time.”
This time, her audible scoff was free from any real malice. She was clearly an outsider herself and no doubt had just experienced a hard lesson in what types of people the small county had to offer.
John considered her response a win and took the seat across from her with a wave at the actual waiter. “After all, what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t show you that not all men in this town act like that animal on a date, miss-?”
“Rook.” She sat back in her seat with a good-natured roll of her eyes. “What makes you think this is going to be a date?”
“You owe me at least one drink. Then, I promise, if you consider it to be as poor as your last one, you’re welcome to leave.” With one last smirk, John ordered two glasses of top shelf scotch and shot, “Though I doubt you will, Rook.”
How would John react to the Deputy walking into the next sermon, battered and beaten before falling to her knees and asking for forgiveness. The Deputy tells Joseph that the Marshal left her to drown in the car in the lake (scene before getting to Dutch's place at the beginning) and she doesn't know where else to go. She's furious and doesn't trust her old friends anymore. Maybe John and her end up together (Dep is now a badass) and find the Marshal after quite a while. Wrath takes Dep over
Dumblr posted this without my permission. Bleh.
•
Oh, oh, i like this. Thank you for requesting!
•
Joseph was speaking softly and confidently, his hands moving passionately with every word. All those present listened to him, enraptured - except for his brothers, who heard these sermons time and time again, and at least once while he practiced on them.
“We must except, invite into our living embrace those who”…
A loud creak and a crash interrupted Joseph’s flow, as the doors to the church flew open, a disheveled figure on it’s threshold.
Joseph heard John’s terrified gasp behind him and featured ever so slightly to prevent his little brother running ahead.
“Deputy,” Joseph said softly.
He was about to deliver a passive aggressive speech, when she stepped into the light and this time Jacob had to physically grab John to keep him where he was.
She was trailing water and blood, her hair hanging long and limp, soaked in river water. There was an ugly, puckering bruise spreading around her mouth and cheek. Blood poured from somewhere beyond her hairline across her furious, wet face. Her clothes were ripped, her deputy jacket lost somewhere, leaving her in only a thin T-shirt, which clung to her scratched and battered form.
She didn’t look at anyone as she shambled along the aisle, like a drunk - steadily, but with a heavy, suspicious determination.
John was sweating, practically jumping. He looked is if wanted to launch himself at her, catch her in his arms - and his siblings knew it to be true.
She reached Joseph, his arms lowered, gaze softened. She looked up to him, eyes red, lips trembling and held his gaze.
Joseph reached out his hand and she collapsed, her knees giving out. She didn’t lower her eyes however, her face burning with fury.
“They left me,” she whispered.
John, struggling, was finally released from Jacob’s grip and in two steps he was beside her, kneeling against her shivering body.
“Oh, darling,” he whispered, taking her chin in his hand and gently lighting her face.
“They left me, Johnny,” she said, smiling a nasty smile. Her lower lip read busted open, “I thought I’d make a difference, I thought you guys were the crazy ones… but they left me. I’m expendable.”
John looked up to Joseph, imploring, begging with his eyes. But Joseph didn’t need encouragement, he made his decision on John’s only love, his heart and soul, a long time ago.
“Can you stand up, my child?” He said calmly, but loudly, so that everyone in the church, watching in awe, could hear.
She struggled to get up, a new patch of dark blood seeping through her left trouser leg. John hesitated for a moment under Jacob’s mocking gaze, but then gently encircled her waist, leaving her whole weight on his own.
Joseph culled get cheek and she leaned into the touch, angry tears glistening in her eyes.
“The Last Herald,” he said softly. The flock audibly gasped, “Faith?"
Joseph turned to his sister who stepped forward, a shy but reassuring smile on her face.
"Take care of our newest family member. You too, John.” He added seeing the desperation in his brothers eyes, reluctance to let her go.
Faith took her under the arm and with John’s help led her away into the lush, dimly lit rooms - to be cleaned up, taken care of and born anew as The Last Herald.
summary: ‘She had hardly imagined spending her day on a bizarre treasure hunt, of all things. Just when she thought John couldn’t surprise her anymore, he went and proved her wrong…’
this is it! the fic that’s i’ve been working on for miriam’s one year anniversary. i couldn’t let it pass by and not do anything so… here it is!
Thirty-three years of age, and whilst Miriam had never put much stock into the celebration of her birthday, she was proud of herself for making it this far. The past year had been one of her worst: the relapse that had hit her hard and forced her to try and take desperate measures in attempts to quench the growing void in her life; the holy war between The Project at Eden’s Gate and the Resistance, all whilst trying to keep her growing relationship with a certain herald of said cult a secret.
This time last year, she would have been thankful just to have survived the next week. Now, it was with a sense of pride and gratitude that she could look back at just how far she had come: clean from her addictions for nigh on seven months; a fully fledged member of Eden’s Gate - and more recently, John’s second-in-command.
Now? Well, she had hardly imagined spending her day on a bizarre treasure hunt, of all things. Just when she thought John couldn’t surprise her anymore, he went and proved her wrong.
Can you do a “don’t do this here” with a possessive Johnny boy please??
Tired and Haggard
wc: 2,003
sorry if this isn’t as good as my usual stuff, i had gotten half-way through and scrapped it. take a peek at my masterlist for more content! my requests and commissions are open!
Her knee was bouncing a mile a minute as she looked out the window, watching the scenery go by. When John placed his hand on her leg to get her to sit still, she started to tear at the skin on the inside of her lip, and when John pulled her bottom lip from her teeth and chided her, she started to tap the window with her knuckles.
“For Christ’s sake Rook, can you sit still for five minutes?” John turned down the radio as he looked over at the Deputy, and her fingers froze against the passenger window as she shot him a glare.
“No John, I can not sit still because in about twenty minutes I’m going to try and pull off a move so assinine my father would laugh at me.” She started to raise her voice as the anxiety moved from her stomach up to her chest, and her leg began bouncing again.
“It’s not assinine. It’s going to be hard considering neither of us wants to give up on what we want, but you have a good reason for doing it.” As John said the words ‘good reason’, she felt his hand cover her own and give it a slight squeeze. She nodded hesitantly before moving her fingers around his so that she could fidget with them to try and ease her anxiety.
So this is my first writing on here and I thought it be fair for it to be John I mean am I right?! Anyways I hope you guys like it!
Warnings: Spoilers (Far Cry 5), Smut, Cursing
Summary: The tension between John and the Deputy has come to a boiling point and there’s no turning back.
The wind whispered through the trees as my shallow breaths echoed in the silence as I looked through my scope.
My scope steadied with my breath as his form came into focus.
John Seed, one of the four head cult members his tattoos glistened with sweat and blood. Just one bullet could end this all I had to do was pull the trigger, just as I was about to squeeze the trigger John’s smile came into view.
A shiver ran down my spine as I whispered “Fuck.” you could hear the deafening silence until my radio buzzed to life “Hello Deputy.” he purred.
Not lowering my gun I grabbed my radio “Hello John long time no see.” fatly.
“Now, now deputy lower the gun and we can talk like civilized people.” he purred into the radio.
Confused as I was hidden at least 50 yards away and no way for him to see me I looked into my scope and found John waving with that shit eating grin I love to hate.
“You know John the gun doesn’t go until yours does,” I say flatly.
Looking through my scope he throws his gun across the outpost.
“Your move Deputy.” his words dripping with honey.
“I’ll check up on you in a bit.” for john + rook pls? 👀
After a million years, I give you: this collection of words! I hope you enjoy, friend, and thank you for this! 💕
————
“You know,” John says easily, “for the woman with the world’s worst luck, I’m amazed that you didn’t get chickenpox sooner.”
“Go away.”
For a few precious seconds, everything seems almost normal, save for the fever and the itching and the burning behind Rook’s tired eyes. She closes them tight against the light streaming in from the window in John’s bedroom and brings the covers up around her ears.
She’s lying on her back on John’s bed, the silk sheets damp under her feverish body. All her life, Rook has been pretty healthy, decently resilient, but this — this is the worst thing that’s ever happened to her. She feels like she’s been run over by a truck, if that truck were also equipped with tires made from tiny little needles. There’s a blister in the crease of her armpit that she’s pretty sure is going to kill her if she doesn’t dig her nails in and scratch. If she weren’t enveloped in the comfort provided by John’s ranch, Rook is pretty sure she’d be dead in a ditch somewhere by now.
“Don’t scratch,” John scolds, catching the way she gingerly moves her arm up, nails at the ready.
“Stop talking.”
There’s a part of Rook that does appreciate John being there, a part that appreciates the unexpected mother hen inside him that makes him a surprisingly good caregiver.
The rest of her, though, wants John gone. The rest of her wants the Earth to be sucked into a black hole and turned into galactic spaghetti. It deserves it.
She’s thirty years old. She deserves better than leaky, crusty blisters.
The bed dips beside her. Rook keeps her eyes closed the whole time, even as John sighs heavily and places something cool and damp against her forehead.
“Do try to stay alive, darling. I’ve pined for you too long to have it end like this.”
“You are not making this any better.”
“Of course I am. You could be sick, miserable, and alone right now, instead of just sick and miserable.”
“Stop touching me,” Rook grumbles. She reaches up and and swats in the general direction of John’s hand. The cloth on her forehead stays disappointingly stationary. “Stop it. Go away.”
Rook feels the blankets being tugged away from her, and she lets out a pitiful whine, scrabbling to get them back. John keeps pulling them down until they pool around her middle. Her skin is so warm, but without the blanket, she’s freezing.
“Give me back my blankets.”
“Do you want those blisters to scar?” John chides, “Come on. Open those eyes.”
Against her better judgement, Rook opens a single eyelid and regrets it immediately. John is too close to her face, smiling pleasantly and waving a pink bottle at her. She groans and closes her eyes again, rolling onto her stomach and as far as she can risk it without falling out of John’s cozy bed.
“No. No calamine lotion.”
“Yes,” John counters. His voice is stern. “Shirt off, darling. Roll over.”
The commands just make her more miserable. Rook’s managed to lose the cloth John had placed on her forehead during her struggle to get away. She wishes she hadn’t — the coolness against her hot skin had been too refreshing to deny.
“Buy me dinner first.”
“Rook.”
“John.”
A beat of silence passes, and for a minute Rook thinks that maybe she’s won — but things are rarely ever that easy with John, and she counts the seconds as they slip by until suddenly she feels hands on the fabric of her shirt. Rook squirms away, heart beating wildly, and curls up into the covers.
John sighs, but his hands linger close.
“You are incorrigible. Do you know that?”
“I may have heard it once or twice before.”
“You’re going to get worse if you don’t take care of yourself, my dear.”
Rook squeezes her eyes shut again, reveling in the way it soothes the familiar burn behind her lids, and tries to even her breathing. She’s closer with John than she’d ever like to admit, but she doesn’t like being touched without warning. Especially not when she feels like this.
“You sound like my mother.”
“No, actually,” John argues, resigned. “You‘d probably listen to your mother. Will you please let me put this on your back? It’ll help the itching.”
“If I say yes,” Rook’s voice is tentative. Somehow, she has a feeling that no matter how she phrases it, her next sentence isn’t going to garner much enthusiasm, “will you leave me alone?”
The room, quiet even with John struggling to to get to her cooperate, somehow grows more silent. Rook pops one eye open and turns her head in his direction.
“Yes. I’ll leave,” John says eventually.
He’s an incredibly gifted faker, a talent Rook thinks he learned as a lawyer, but he’s not that good. She can sense the shift in John’s voice, the disappointment and hurt colouring his words.
For some reason, she cannot stop getting herself into trouble.
Begrudgingly, Rook kicks back the blankets and props herself up long enough to tug her shirt off. She never wears a bra to sleep, but couldn’t now even if she wanted to; the band presses against a line of painful, itchy blisters. Rook settles back down onto her stomach and waits.
Guilt starts to fester in the recesses of her brain. She doesn’t enjoy upsetting John, isn’t trying to, but nothing about their relationship has ever been easy.
The bed jiggles slightly as John shifts into a more comfortable position. Her breath rushes from her lungs as the first swipe of cold lotion hits her skin. Rook doesn’t know why she anticipated a warning first — she doesn’t deserve one — but now she’s shivering again, fever jolted into action again by the shock.
The silence gets worse the longer John sits behind her, spreading the lotion over her back. It is a pleasant relief from the itching - Rook is certain her back looks akin to a war zone, artillery craters dug into her skin with the blunt edges of her fingernails. The longer they spend there, the less the cold bothers her, the calamine at odds with her overheated skin. Eventually, John shifts and moves his hands, and before Rook knows it, he’s off the bed and disappearing into the bathroom.
“John?” she calls, feeling defeated and more miserable than ever. She listens patiently for the sound of footsteps.
When John comes back to stand in the doorway, he’s drying his hands on a towel and staring at her, his face blank.
“Will you stay?” Rook asks, insides twisting uncomfortably. “I mean, in here. With me.”
“Didn’t you just tell me to leave?”
She holds her expression, trying not to cringe. She’s going to lose this battle, but at least she can choose how. Not everyone gets that option.
“I may have.”
“No, I distinctly remember you asking me to leave.”
“John—”
“How did you put it? ‘If I say yes will you leave me alone’?”
“Will you believe me if I say I’m sorry?”
John stays put, letting her stew in her own guilt for a few solid seconds of silence. He finishes drying his hands, then folds the towel neatly into quarters. Rook wonders if he’s ever going to speak.
“Being sick is not an excuse to be extra ruthless, Deputy,” John says eventually, tossing the towel into the hamper in the corner of the bedroom. He takes lazy steps towards the bed and sinks down next to Rook slowly, curling on his side next to her.
“My ruthlessness is my best quality,” Rook argues. He’s so close and his skin is so warm, and she just wants to wrap her aching body around him to leech his heat. “How else do you think I got you to fall for me?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” John says, managing a rather impressive roll of his eyes. “But I’m almost certain it had nothing to do with this awful attitude you’ve developed.”
Rook snorts, burying her face deeper into the fabric of the pillow. John shuffles a little closer and she has to admit — it‘s nice. She’s sick and miserable and feverish and freezing, but it’s nice.
“Love you,” Rook says, stumbling over the words clumsily. She’s never been very good at expressing her emotions. “Sorry I’m like this.”
John frowns and leans forward to press his lips to hers. His hand comes up to Rook’s face, thumb running along her cheekbone.
“A man can’t have everything,” he murmurs as he pulls away. “I wouldn’t be here if I couldn’t handle a little mood swing every now and then.”
“I know,” Rook says quietly. John kisses her again, on her nose this time, and offers her a soft smile. “You shouldn’t do that. You’ll get sick.”
“Me? No, darling, I had chickenpox as a child. You’re decidedly late to the party.”
“Very funny.”
The calamine lotion is working, she thinks. Her back isn’t nearly as itchy as it had been earlier that morning when John had brought her tea and a breakfast that she had more or less ignored. It’s not a cure, but it is a bit of relief, and Rook thinks she’ll take what she can get.
“Are you tired?” John asks quietly.
Rook doesn’t know when she closed her eyes. John’s voice jolts her back to the present, but she keeps her lids shut.
“Mm,” she mumbles. John moves, and Rook cracks open one tired eye to see what he’s doing. “Where’re you going?”
Fingertips brush across her cheek, and her open eye flutters shut again. She feels the soft press of John’s lips against her sweaty forehead.
“Just downstairs,” he assures her. His voice is gentle and calming. “You need to rest. I’ll check up on you in a bit.”
“‘Kay,” Rook stumbles over the words, her mouth dry and thick as consciousness starts to crumble away from her. “Thank you.”
Warnings: Violence, language, eventual smut - vaguely rough sex, minor sub/dom dynamic. Word Count: 2,545 Characters: Eilish Cooper, John Seed, Adelaide Drubman, Mary May Fairgrave and mention of Sharky Boshaw.
“They’re hot on your ass, kiddo!” Addie leaned out the side of the car, adorned with a crudely painted ‘SINNER’ across the hood. Between gun shots, Eilish heard John’s gospel blaring from the approaching truck.
It was hot in the Holland Valley. Temperatures soared over sweltering during the day and barely receding back down to acceptable at night. That must be the reason why it took John more than a minute to recognize the sudden influx of temperature beside him. He felt the fleeting kiss of his silk sheet as it was shed from his bed, and when that didn’t help, the bed dipped with the incessant rocking of discomfort.
He understood. It was far too hot in his room to get any real sleep.
But he was sleeping just fine only moments ago and it wasn’t him that was flopping with the air of a really-pissed off fish.
A grumble tore from his throat. “Quit moving, I’m trying to sleep.” The thrashing beside him suddenly stilled and dread seeped through his bones as his brain woke enough to supply that he hasn’t had a bed-mate since he saw the Atlanta skyline from his apartment and theremay be an intruder lurking on top of his designer sheets. John leaped from his supposedly-safe space and grabbed for his phone, only to shed the flashlight on -
Her.
“Wait…are you…what?” Normally, John would try to taper his indignation but it sputtered from him freely like the sweat from his brow. Sue him, the heat and the late hour were a fine excuse to him.
In response, the Deputy tossed and turned one more time. “All this wealth and you can’t afford fucking air conditioning, Seed?”
John’s lips quivered; he couldn’t help it, though he was glad his moment of softness was hidden because there was nothing good that could come out of this. She was his enemy, and he hers, and the fact that neither of them had lunged for a single weapon spoke wonders that God really did have a plan for everything.
Though John did eye the hair comb on his bedside table with apprehension. He’d seen the woman at her deadliest with far less before.
“That doesn’t answer my question, my dear. What are you doing here?”
Even in the dark of the room, he could see her crack one eyelid open, and he almost laughed at the implication that he was disturbing her.
“Thought it’d be cooler here than anywhere else,” she grumbled. “It’s too goddamn hot in this valley.”
He decided to forgive her for the slight for now and instead chose to focus on her words. “So why not escape to the mountains? Jacob tells me it’s lovely under the shade of the trees this time of year.”
The glare she shot him was well worth it, and he continued with a grin, “Or perhaps the Henbane? Sister Faith maintains that the streams are a breath of fresh air during the oppressive summer heat waves.”
The gears turning in her head may actually emit steam and John held his breath carefully so as not to spook her. Clearly, there was something here if she was comfortable sidling up to him in bed for the chance at a break from the heat. And judging by her non-answers, she chose him over his siblings.
That was a definite stroke to his ego. He tried not to preen as he watched her fiddle with his sheets and work through her thoughts.
“I’ve seen Jacob’s training and Faith’s idea of clean drinking water,” she finally supplied. “No thanks.”
“So you chose me.” John couldn’t help himself; he had to point it out.
And just like that, she was back to grumbling. “I chose a less fucked up situation. Don’t get that confused.”
John snorted. “Of course, my dear. You clearly have a knack for choosing the easy way.”
Finally, she laughed, and he could visibly see the tension bleed out of her. “You know me.”
He doesn’t, not quite, and maybe that was what drove his next action. “Clearly, that didn’t pan out for you since I am too cheap to pay for air conditioning.” Her eyes visibly darkened at his words as he slid back into bed and he enjoyed keeping her hanging until he finally put her worry at ease. “But it is late. I guess you’ll have to wait until tomorrow night to seek out your next place.”
The Deputy paused, clearly caught off guard that he hadn’t attempted to kick her out. The implication was there, that she could stay, and John waited as she fought through this new dilemma.
Finally, finally, she landed on her decision and curled into a more comfortable sleeping position. “Fine. But keep your hands to yourself, Seed. It’s too hot for cuddling.”
John considered it a win despite the quip. And if she managed to worm her way over to him during the night, leaving him to wake covered in sweat with her smaller frame clinging to his, well, he certainly wasn’t going to complain.
How about prompt 16 “You gotta stop doing that.” “What?” “Saying things that make me want to kiss you.” With your Dep & John? :)
Thank you for sending a prompt! This was fun!
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Rebekah Colt decided, with great certainty, that storms were the fucking worst.
On the way up the mountain she had been stupid enough to misjudge the dark clouds overhead and managed to find herself stuck in one of the worst cells she had ever been in. The wind picked up too quickly to try and head back down to civilization and the rain was making the forest floor too wet to traverse. With the sun setting, she had had no other option but to find shelter.
Soaked to the bone, she had ducked into the first cabin she found. It was tiny and rather filthy, but it had a fireplace and a bed, so she counted her blessings and did what she could to weatherproof her new temporary home.
Now, alone in the middle of the woods, she was able to focus on how goddamn cold she was. There was no way she was going to get out of this without getting sick.
After lighting a measly fire and stripping out of her clothes, she found the first bottle of alcohol she could and settled under a blanket for the night. All of her gear was tucked safely under the bed and it would stay there. Half naked and freezing, she hadn’t imagined she would need it for any company. Not in a storm like this.
Unfortunately, she had already downed too much whiskey to try and forget the cold when an unwanted guest burst through the cabin door. By that point she had been too shaky to do anything but groan in disbelief at her terrible luck.
That was nearly two hours ago.
After nearly an hour of listening to the one and only John Seed complain about the primitive nature of camping in a shitty wooden cabin, Rebekah was nearing her wits end.
They had an unspoken agreement though. They were stuck there together. No killing each other while Mother Nature is trying to do the deed herself.
“…you’re certainly not the worst company I’ve kept lately. Even I’ll admit that.”
John’s chair creaked across the cabin and Rebekah winced, pulled from the safety of her mind. She looked up at her guest, his last words still echoing in her head, and frowned.
“You have gotta stop doing that.” Her words were slurred, but the message got across.
John looked up, eyes shining with the reflection of the fire in front of him. He was lounging comfortably in the only arm chair the cabin had. Rebekah was tucked as far away from him as she could possibly get. Her small form curled up, knees bent towards her chest on the twin bed in the corner. There was only one room in the cabin and it was feeling smaller and smaller with every minute that passed.
John, eyes now watching her intently, turned his head in a curious kind of way. He grinned and Rebekah looked away. “What?” He asked.
She pursed her lips, trying to find the strength of will to keep her mouth shut. But he kept staring and Rebekah’s mind was fuzzy.
She was so fucking cold.
“What?” He repeated.
This time he stood and approached her slowly. His form was silhouetted by the fire and Rebekah found herself watching him. He was shirtless. His clothes were drying too, but at least he was able to find spare pants. He complained about them, but gave into wearing them eventually.
Those two hours really were the worst.
Rebekah couldn’t find it in her to complain herself though. Especially not about his lack of shirt.
She was way too drunk to be in this kind of situation.
He took another step toward her and Rebekah realized he was still waiting for an answer. She shifted awkwardly under her blanket. She had to say something so she told the truth. She was too foggy minded to make up a convincing lie.
“Stop saying things that make me want to kiss you.”
A ball of regret settled in her stomach as soon as she said it.
“Deputy,” John purred, his lips curled into a smile. “Is that a confession?”
She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, pulling at some of the knots. “It’s me wondering if kissing you would keep you from whining. I’m already freezing. I don’t need a headache too.”
He clicked his tongue in disapproval at her snark and sauntered over to the door.
“It’s still raining, but feel free to leave.” Rebekah waved her hand at the door and looked out the window next to her.
“Would you say ‘yes’, Deputy?”
“What?”
“You and I both know we need to keep warm. That fire won’t last forever. You had a suggestion. If offered, would you say ‘yes’?”
“I don’t…”
John stepped closer, practically looming over her now, and all Rebekah could do was wait and see what was coming next. He leaned in, propping himself up with one arm pressed against the bed while the opposite hand hovered over her cheek. Rebekah’s lips parted and she nearly forgot to breathe. The warmth radiating from his fire heated skin caught her off guard, but she found that she craved its proximity.
“Consider this your chance for confession, Deputy.” John leaned in closer and Rebekah could feel his warmth envelope her, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “It’s just one word.”
She should say no. Spit in his face and tell him all of the wrong he and his family had done. She should fight him tooth and nail, right now.
She should.
She didn’t want to.
Fuck all of this.
Rebekah grabbed him and pulled him forwards, crashing their lips together and letting her body soak up every ounce of warm skin she could touch.
When he slid a hand behind her and splayed his fingers against her skin she could only think of one thing to say.
Summary: It has been a long time since Rook has seen John Seed. She came here to arrest his brother but now, remembering everything he did for her family, she doesn’t think she can do it.
A/N I didn’t proofread this at all but enjoy!
Rook stares out the window as the helicopter they ride in passes by the giant statue of Joseph Seed. Barely audible to her is the bickering between the sheriff and the marshal as Whitehorse tries to conceive Burke to leave this matter alone.
“There’s a reason we have laws, Sheriff. I plan to enforce them,” is all Burke says in response to the sheriff’s pleas to “leave well enough alone”. She barely hears Pratt’s thinly veiled attempt to poke fun at Rook’s lack of experience. She meets his glance barely as he turns to face Hudson.
“You okay, Rook?” Whitehorse offers, leaning over to her. Rook glances his way and nods, content with her silence.
His eyes linger for a second before he turns away. The helicopter is now beginning to land outside Joseph’s compound.
“This won’t take long,” Whitehorse says to Pratt.
Rook follows her counterparts to the church where many armed people stand guarding. She wasn’t feeling apprehensive before, but now the feeling has bubbled to the surface. Cold eyes lock onto not just her, but Whitehorse and Burke as Hudson stands guard at the door. On edge, Rook walks toward the Preacher as he delivers his sermon. Burke ignores Whitehorse’s plea to let him take the lead as he thrust the warrant in Joseph’s face.
“Joseph Seed!” he yells. His next words become nothing but a mumble as Rook’s eyes land on someone familiar standing behind Joseph. She feels like she knows him, but can’t quite place it. That is, until he looks at her.
She knew him by the name John Duncan, and he was her family’s lawyer.
“Cuff this son of a bitch, Rookie,” Burke barks his order to her.
Her eyes snap away from John as him, along with Jacob, the oldest Seed, and Faith, the newest addition to the family, gather behind Joseph. She can’t respond as the memory of how John helped her family floods her mind.
“What’re you waitin’ for, Rook!? Arrest this psychopath!” Burke barks again.
John watches in amusement as the Junior Deputy disobeys the Marshal, causing him to get angrier and angrier.
“I…” Rook begins. “I don’t think I can.”
“What!?” Burke explodes.
Rook looks as Joseph slowly drops his outstretched arms, a warm, intrigued smile on his lips. “I can’t do it,” she repeats, more conviction in her voice. “I won’t do it.”
“And why the fuck not!?”
At this point, Whitehorse steps up, getting between her and the Marshal. “I won’t stand for you talkin’ to one of my deputies that way, Marshal. I don’t care who you are.”
Her eyes flicker to John briefly and Burke notices the nonverbal exchange between them. Burke shoves Whitehorse out of his way and glares at Rook.
“What’s goin’ on here, Rook?” he says in an accusatory tone. “You got somethin’ to tell us?”
“Maybe Whitehorse is kinda right. We shouldn’t just leave it alone, but we shouldn’t make it worse than it already is.”
Whitehorse nods and Rook and they both turn to leave the church. Burke, not done interrogating Rook, grabs her wrist and pulls her back.
“You workin’ for the enemy, Rook? Is that why you won’t cuff ‘em? If you don’t cuff that bastard right now, I’ll nail you with obstruction of justice,” he growls.
“You’ll nail me, huh? I find that highly inappropriate, Burke. Take your fuckin’ hand off of me right now,” she growls back at him, ripping her wrist away from him. Her glare locks onto him, burning with even more fury than his. “John saved my family. I won’t ever forget that.”
Burke staggers back as if he’d been hit with something as he stares at Rook dumbfounded. “So that’s it? One psychopath in a family full of ‘em helped your family out and now innocent people have to suffer because you’re too soft to do your job? That’s why you’re betrayin’ your badge?”
The Seeds and their followers stand back to watch the encounter play out. Never did any of them think they’d have the Junior Deputy fighting with a U.S Marshal with the Sheriff standing by watching helplessly.
“You’re a real fuckin’ prick, ya know that? Unlike you, I know when to not stir the pot. Fuck off with that bullshit. My family would’ve lost everything if it weren’t for him.” She stabs a finger into Burke’s chest, daring him to push her further. “We would’ve drowned in hospital bills and lost everything after the asshole hit my dad with his car and tried to fight us in court.” She clenches her jaw and stares Burke down. “Do what you want, Burke. I won’t make this worse than it needs to be.”
Glares from her fellow patrons fixate on John as he enters the bar and takes a seat next to the Junior Deputy. She smells of alcohol and is obviously intoxicated, judging by the glossy look in her eyes.
“That was quite the show you put on earlier,” he says amusedly. Rook rolls her eyes and downs her shot.
“Burke’s too stubborn. Pisses me off.”
“My family and the devoted got quite a kick out of what transpired.”
“Good for them.”
“You know, Rook. I didn’t expect you to recognize me.”
At this, Rook shoots John a look. “Are you serious?” she says with a slight slur, and turning back to her drink. “How could I ever forget a face like yours?”
John chuckles and Rook remains unaware of what she said. “My, you are intoxicated, aren’t you?”
Rook blinks slow, staring at the table. “Fuck, I’m drunk,” she mutters.
John can’t help but roll his eyes at the younger female and stand up from his seat. He pulls cash out of his pocket and lays it on the table for Mary May and takes hold of Rook’s arm.
“Come on, Rook. Let’s get you out of here.”
Rook complies. “Where’re we going?” she questions as John slings her arm over his shoulder and guides her out of the building.
“Somewhere where you can sober up in peace,” he answers, putting her into his truck.
He’d never admit it, but John was happy to see Rook. The younger teenager he once knew had turned into a beautiful, strong woman, that remember what he had done to help her family. She fought with one of her superiors because of it and ultimately saved the county from something worse than what would’ve happened if she did arrest Joseph.
Maybe Joseph’s right. Maybe the prophecy will come true.
Rook has to admit it: John is a surprisingly good dad.
Their daughter is born, and he absolutely melts. He becomes a different person overnight, someone kind and gentle and full of love, not rage. He’s terrified, sure, but he settles into a routine fast. He changes diapers, rolls out of bed in the middle of the night when the wailing starts without a single complaint, sings softly and quietly when the baby refuses to sleep.
Suddenly, the John Seed that once made it his mission to destroy her seems a thousand miles away.
Fatherhood has made him soft. He’s better for it.
There is a part of Rook that regularly feels guilty for the things she thought almost two years earlier, curled on the floor of the bathroom with her knees tight to her chest. She remembers the panic that spread through her veins when she learned she was carrying John’s child. The fear is long gone, but she doesn’t know if she can ever forget the thoughts that crossed her mind that day and so many days after it.
Would John ever hurt their child? Would he fall into the same horrifying cycle of abuse his parents subjected him to?
Her fears were justified, she thinks. She shouldn’t feel as guilty as she does, but it’s hard for her to reconcile her thoughts then with those she has now. Now, she knows John would rather die than let anyone touch a hair on his kid’s head — including himself.
Rook picks at a broken nail as she heads back to the room she shares with John, scowling at the ragged edge. She doesn’t mind doing her part around the bunker, but she does miss being able to keep long nails some days.
John isn’t in the main room when she opens the door, and Anastasia isn’t in her crib or the playpen. Curiously, Rook heads toward the bedroom door, eyebrows furrowed, and swings it open.
“Comfortable?” Rook asks, standing in the doorway.
He’s laying on top of the covers, dressed in pyjama pants and an old shirt, his eyes shut tight but his breathing not even enough to suggest that he’s asleep. Tucked into his side is Anastasia, her chubby little legs drawn up toward her and her arms pressed against her father’s side.
John cracks and eye open and peers up at Rook sleepily. She’s caught him in that hazy period where wakefulness transitions to unconsciousness, and she does not feel bad about it at all. Her morning has been spent tending to her assigned work around the bunker — if she has to be awake, so does he.
“She wanted to snuggle,” John informs her quietly, his voice no more than a rasp. “Did you want me to say no?”
Rook rolls her eyes and kicks off her shoes. It’s not something she would have said when they first ended up down here together, but she thinks John may actually be the biggest sap in this entire metal home of theirs.
It takes her a few minutes to ditch her everyday clothes for something more comfortable, but when she’s finished, she slips onto the bed next to John and the baby. Anastasia rolls onto her back, still sound asleep, and Rook has to smile.
Anastasia is a spitting image of her dad — dark hair, sharp blue eyes, and a dazzling smile, even at only a year old. Rook spends a lot of time wondering what else Ana has inherited from her father — not the short temper, she hopes, because she’s not sure she can handle another drama queen in her life. Rook reaches out and brushes a wisp of brown hair from Ana’s forehead.
“I love you,” John says suddenly.
Rook looks up and finds he’s been staring at her, the look in his eyes earnest, gentle, adoring. It’s not the first time he’s told her that, but she doesn’t think she’s ever seen him look at her quite like that before.
“Love you too,” she murmurs quietly.
John runs a thumb over his daughter’s cheek, and Rook doesn’t bother holding back her smile.
This wasn’t the life she foresaw the day she realized she was pregnant, but for once in her life, Rook finds she doesn’t mind being wrong.
Notes: i literally made this dep to ship her with staci but i ended up writing smut with her and john bc i’m what? predictable. fucking help. me. Rating: explicit. super explicit. we got sex-sex, we got radio-sex. we got a little angsty in there i think idfk. Pairing: john seed / female deputy. Word count: 6,086
2012
The tick-tock of the second hand traipses through the near-empty Aubrey’s Diner. Jeanann’s killing time, sweeping the floor is busywork. All of it’s to keep her mind off the clock that bleeds minutes, closing time draws nearer.
He doesn’t always come. Some nights, she hears cars race over the highway like hummingbirds and none pull off the paved road. No one visits her.
But even the virtuous can’t keep their distance. A man’s heart is simple, fragile. His wants, constantly, new entanglements.
Jeanann keeps sweeping, even as she hears tires squealing on asphalt somewhere distant to her left. Even as those tires slow, stop. Even as she hears shoes crunching on gravel from the open window.
Then, she can’t wait any longer. A quick, upward glance into the night confirms it. She’s to receive a guest.
Hey there! 🤗 Just seen your latest post and I have a request in my mind. Not so clear but I'd love to see something about whump John / fem!Deputy 😻🤩 I'm pretty new with these requesting stuff, so sorry if this is the wrong place to do that 🙈
More Time
wc: ~915
TW: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, BLOOD
this one is a bit shorter than my usual stuff but here it is! check out my masterlist and tag list!
It’s what Rook repeated in her head like a mantra as she sprinted after the man parachuting from the sky.
He was going to hit the ground before she could get to him, but he was hurt. How severely, Rook had no clue, but it was an advantage she had over him.
When she got closer, Rook could feel the lump beginning to form in her throat. Ever since John had run from the church in Fall’s End with two cultists flanking him, rage had been coiling inside of her chest like a snake. John had always talked about indulging her sin, well by god she was going to.
With each footstep toward him, the adrenaline she felt ebbed away a little more until the pounding of her heart was no longer in anger, but in fear.
For the three sentence fic - John Seed x f!dep. Prompt - Breakfast in bed. Please and thank you :)
The soft expanse of sheets next to her were blissfully empty when Rook settled a searching hand over them. Somehow, she might be lucky enough to escape without the awkward start she deserved after falling into bed with none other than the enemy. But as she shifted to the side and caught an eye-full of a rather sheepish-looking John Seed as he presented a tray of crepes in the doorway, she couldn’t help the smile that signaled to him: yes, I’m glad I stayed.
I know I haven’t posted an actual fic in over two weeks, but I’d rather hold off than post absolute shit just for the sake of posting. So instead or my promised fics tonight, have a snippet instead:
Rook was three drinks in and having a ball when she’d caught sight of him. Across the room, nursing a drink of his own, a man was watching her. He was beautiful, truly - there was no other way to describe him. Well dressed, a sculpted face, dark hair with a neatly trimmed beard and a smirk that just gleamed with sinful intentions. But it was his eyes that caught her - even in the dim lighting of the room she was struck by just how blue they were. Or maybe it was the way that he was looking at her - the intensity of his stare as his eyes met hers. All at once she’d felt hot and bothered, but not necessarily in a bad way. No, under his gaze a fire had lit in her stomach, a hum of electricity trilling through her veins - her heartbeat had picked up and everything else, everyone else, faded away.
There was something that tugged at her, something that sung deep within her - a siren’s lure being answered. She’d shivered as he’d smirked, raising his drink ever so slightly in acknowledgement.
“Good god he’s hot,” Kim’d said, sliding up beside her and passing her the fancy pink drink Rook had long since forgotten the name of.
The morning light was filtering through the expansive ranch windows when a pair of arms snakes around Rebekah’s waist. She smiled.
“Good morning, John.”
She was pulled backwards, held flush against his chest as he nuzzled her neck, peppering her skin with light kisses.
“I was thinking something rich.”
Rebekah took a sip of her coffee and then she turned her head as much as she could. Her nose pressed against John’s jaw and she chuckled. “It’s seven in the morning. We can’t have cake.”
She felt John grin and shivered as his hands traveled down her abdomen and thighs. He took the hem of the shirt that she was wearing in his fingers and pinched and pulled. It was his shirt, so when he pulled on it she felt it rise and her free hand moved to stop him in his tracks.
She was covered down there, but if they started something she knew she wouldn’t stop.
Thankfully he behaved and decided to take hold of her hand instead and play with her fingers. His lips moved to kiss her jaw and Rebekah let herself focus on the sensation with closed eyes.
“We can have cake. We can have whatever we want.”
Oh yeah. She forgot about that.
“I can’t stay, John. We both know that.”
“You’re the one who says that, not me.”
John spun her around to face him. He looked more unkempt than normal. Dare she say that his bed head made him look irresistible. This was dangerous. He took her coffee from her, setting it on the nearby table, so he could pull her against his chest. “You can stay. You know you can.”
“I’m a symbol.” Rebekah pulled back only a little. She looked down, wanting to explain all the reasons she felt she couldn’t be there, but she relented. She didn’t want to do that now. She just wanted this. She wanted him.
“One cake.” She smiled. Pushing onto her tiptoes, she pressed a kiss to his lips. “And I’ll come back tonight.” One more kiss to seal the promise.
“Okay.” John kissed her again, deep and meaningful, as he lifted her off of her feet. After releasing her, he picked up her perfect cup of coffee and took a drink. Then he sauntered towards the kitchen.
“So you’re going to make chocolate, right? I want chocolate.”
Rebekah huffed and followed after him. “First, that is my coffee. Second, you’re ridiculous.”
Title: Seduction Redux Fandom: Far Cry 5 Ship: John Seed/Kat O’Neill (@deputyoneill‘s FC5 Deputy~!) Rating: T (fluffy/soft kissing) Summary: John treats Kat to a night under the stars, with a few surprises in store.
For @deputyoneill! Thank you for commissioning me :)
“Nice view,” Kat said, settling back against John’s chest.
John gently rested his chin on her head. “It is, isn’t it?” he said, drawing her in for a close hug.
She waited. When he said nothing, she continued, “Especially since the YES sign is completely out of view. What an eyesore.”
Summary: Trinity-Hope Johnson finds herself in the middle of a holy war, leading the Resistance, while having a complicated relationship with one of the cult’s herald. And she thought her first case would be easy. Oh how wrong she was!
Pairings: John Seed/Fem!Deputy, John Seed/OC, Earl Whitehorse & OC ( uncle&niece ), Joseph Seed/Fem!Deputy ( kind of ), might add more later
Warnings: mild language, violence, eventually smut, masturbation, oral sex, you know guys the usual, use of drugs ( bliss and other, thanks to Sharky ), fluff ( does that even need a warning? ), manipulation, angst, mention of mental illness ( insomnia, depression ), mention of child abuse ( from John’s side ), torture, I think that’s it? I swear it’s not so bad!
Word Counter: 9319
Notes: ANGST, the whole chapter is an angsty motherfecker, and I’m not sorry, now let me cry in peace, thank you. I listened to this music while writing the chapter, you guys could give it a listen
Hope manages to run to Nolan’s Fly Shop, following the river. Her feet hurts, due to not wearing any shoes, she shakes from fear, confusion and the cold. It’s the start of December, the roads and the grass is covered with rime, making her legs wet and cold. She’s still unsure on her feet, but she keeps moving.
Hope notices Chosen in the air, searching the area, probably for her. But she doesn’t care, she moves forward, trying to stay hidden as she nears the Fly Shop. It’s already liberated, she did that a while back and now she’s glad it’s free from the cult. She needs help, she needs to radio the others.
Summary:
Rook decides not to kill John in the final mission of the game and
spares his life. But he’s in a far worse condition than she’s thought.
She tries to be a hero again, this time for his sake. Perhaps he’s more
than an enemy for her? Maybe they all just need an incident to see it
all.
A/N:
Please go easy on me everyone :) This is my first time writing
these two and I can’t get enough of them. I hope you like it. Feel free
to send me your favourite John/FemaleDeputy fictions :D If you enjoyed
reading my story, I’m waiting for your comments and kudos on Ao3! :’)
The rest of the ride was a blur for John. How he got to the place he was now in, was beyond him. He hoped they didn’t drag him in the mud or something. Did these miserable resistance members have any idea how much his coat costs? Probably no, but he’ll make a point, one day. By the way, where is he, really?
The moment he chose to open his eyes, was a moment everyone would dread waking up from their slumber to.
The said doctor, Charles goddamn Lindsey was inserting an IV to his forearm. He grumbled to wakefulness with the sudden rush of pain bolting through his arm.
“God damn it vet, that’s my dominant hand!” John shouted and flinched away. Him being not a doctor but a vet made this simple procedure more painful than necessary.
“Take your paws off me!” John roared and tried to trash away from the hands that he pictured as assaulting. In his delirious state it was nearly impossible to talk some sense into him. Rook was watching the whole scene play out sternly in the corner.
“Rook, tell him to behave himself or I’ll gladly let him bleed to death. I’m not under oath or something.” Charles smiled slyly to John. Rook sent a warning look in John’s direction then she neared towards the bed. Bed? For god’s sake, if this thing counts as a bed, then what do you call the big, comfy one at his ranch?! This ridiculous thing is definitely not a bed, thank you very much.
With the help of his inner turmoil, John realized he didn’t take a glance around. He wished they sedated him sooner, because he was in a cell, in Faith’s region, in jail of all places and surrounded by sinners who are probably thinking about all the different ways to kill him slowly and painfully. A yelp left his mouth when a heavy weight was placed on his bad shoulder. Speaking of shoulders and upper parts of body, why the hell did his collarbones feel like they were on fire and going to pop out because of the throbbing pain? He tried to swat away Deputy’s hand on his shoulder with what he assumed was his ‘good’ arm, because the other one seemed to be temporarily out of service at the moment, he felt grinding and a starting of an intense ache in his shoulder blades. His eyes burned with unshed tears. The pain was literally everywhere and poking and prodding didn’t help his broken body.
Pulling his aching arm towards his chest, he exchanged a drained look with Deputy. When she was content that he’s going to listen to her willingly, she started:
“John, stop making it worse and tiring than it already is. Do you remember what happened?” a quick nod. Well, maybe too quick because the cell started spinning.
“You’re hurt, pretty badly I can say.” Oh, jeez really?
Whenever I read a fanfic of a Female Deputy and one of the Seeds where she’s super conflicted about her feelings, “I Hate Myself For Loving you” by Joan Jett & The Blackhearts starts blaring in my head.
Summary: Trinity-Hope Johnson finds herself in the middle of a holy war, leading the Resistance, while having a complicated relationship with one of the cult’s herald. And she thought her first case would be easy. Oh how wrong she was!
Pairings: John Seed/Fem!Deputy, John Seed/OC, Earl Whitehorse & OC ( uncle&niece ), Joseph Seed/Fem!Deputy ( kind of ), might add more later
Warnings: mild language, violence, eventually smut, masturbation, oral sex, you know guys the usual, use of drugs ( bliss and other, thanks to Sharky ), fluff ( does that even need a warning? ), manipulation, angst, mention of mental illness ( insomnia, depression ), mention of child abuse ( from John’s side ), torture, I think that’s it? I swear it’s not so bad!
Word Counter: 7117
Notes: I have zero excuses for myself that this chapter took me so long.
Getting another region free from the cultists meant two things: the Resistance gaining power and the mountains getting extremely dangerous thanks to the guard Jacob put on. Although he saved Hope from Joseph’s hands, she didn’t think he would have mercy on her if she attacked his region as well. Or worse: maybe he would use the musicbox on her all over again.
But there were other things she had to worry about than Jacob Seed. For example how Joseph reacted to Faith’s death. Streaming a video on the cult channel about Rachel’s death and also a message for the junior deputy: “You run away from me every time, but in the end. It will be you and me. That is the will of the Father.”
Summary: Trinity-Hope Johnson finds herself in the middle of a holy war, leading the Resistance, while having a complicated relationship with one of the cult’s herald. And she thought her first case would be easy. Oh how wrong she was!
Pairings: John Seed/Fem!Deputy, John Seed/OC, Earl Whitehorse & OC ( uncle&niece ), Joseph Seed/Fem!Deputy ( kind of ), might add more later
Warnings: mild language, violence, eventually smut, masturbation, oral sex, you know guys the usual, use of drugs ( bliss and other, thanks to Sharky ), fluff ( does that even need a warning? ), manipulation, angst, mention of mental illness ( insomnia, depression ), mention of child abuse ( from John’s side ), torture, I think that’s it? I swear it’s not so bad!
Word Counter: 4124
Notes: I have no excuses for myself for not writing the last chapter sooner.
“And I saw as the lamb opened the sixth seal…” Joseph starts, but Hope’s deep sigh interrupts him.
“Please, let’s skip the preaching this time, Joseph…” She says, rolling her eyes and for her surprise, Joseph complies. He cocks his head a bit higher, his eyes narrowing. He’s clearly judging her and her incapability of listening to his words.
Then he closes his eyes with a sigh, like he wants to blow out the anger from his system, and opens them up again.
“Clearly, if you didn’t come for my… ‘preaching’, then you must have a reason for being here.” Joseph says, though it’s not a question, because he knows exactly why they’re there, at his compound.
Hope looks him in the eyes, trying to figure out what to say or what to do. She should have planned ahead, but heck! How is one supposed to plan a meeting like this right after having a vision of the end of the world?
She can see Earl looking at her from the corner of her eyes, waiting for her to speak and ready to step in in any moment if needed.
She thinks for a second to what to say and comes to the conclusion that it doesn’t even matter anymore. Fuck it!
“I’m here for John… We’re not looking for a fight. So as long as you don’t try anything stupid, we won’t either.” Not the cleverest thing she ever said, that’s for sure.
John flinches at her words, looking at Joseph, waiting for a reaction from him and seemingly even more nervous then he was before. What the hell did Joseph do to him, that he fears him this much?
Meanwhile on the Father’s face a smile starts to grow. It doesn’t reach his eyes and he scoffs, anger and disappointment clear on his face.
“Yes, I heard about your…” He starts speaking before he stops, trying to find the right word to describe the two of them. “…bond. John told me all about it… well, mostly all of it.”
He looks her in the eyes with a smile, before glancing at her stomach and for a second panic starts to build up in her. He can’t possibly know, can he?! Not even John knows!
Then Joseph looks back at her eyes, clearly satisfied with her reaction, which she tries really hard to hide.
“But still… It’s ironic, don’t you think? You’re telling ME, to not do anything ‘stupid’, as you said. Meanwhile you were the one, that caused mayhem and chaos across the whole county, while I did nothing, but give you an option to stop fighting.”
She shakes her hand in anger, clenching her hand into a fist as she says.
“Listen to me, asshole! I’m not going to start this conversation with you, so how about you shut the fuck up, and just let us leave in peace, huh?! I’m sure, you’re… ‘children’ are all excited to see us get the hell out of here.”
She just proves even more how much of Wrath she is with her words, but honestly she’s done with Joseph’s bullshit of a talk and just wants to get to safety with John, Earl and Sharky before the end of the world comes.
But Joseph doesn’t let her have it, of course. Her own sin starts to build up in him as well as he points an angry finger in her way, speaking through his teeth, his words filled with venom:
“YOU… Deputy, are an insufferable person!” She scoffs at that and smiles, like yeah, is she supposed to give a fuck what he thinks about her?
“You came here, with your people. You started this whole thing, and now? NOW?! You’re trying to tell me you want to leave in peace? Is that it? Tell that to the hundreds if not thousands of people you murdered, including Faith and Jacob! You are a brat! You deny God’s plans, you cross me and my Family whenever you can. Just so you can what?! Leave in the end with my Brother? He doesn’t want to leave! He doesn’t want you plaguing his soul, you’ve done enough by making him get off the Path! You made him relive his sins, you denied him what God planned for him. So no. You are not going to leave in peace with him by your side!”
Hope blinks at him, trying to process all that he just said. She wanted to interrupt him by saying: ‘How about you let him speak for himself?’ But as Joseph continued, she felt dread in her heart. She blinks at him before muttering to him:
“Jacob’s alive.”
It’s a simple sentence and she feels a shiver crawl up on her skin as she watches Joseph’s reaction. His face looks shocked, then angry. Angry, like she never saw him before and it makes her sick in the stomach and step back a bit.
“Why did you think he was dead?” She asks, but she already knows the answer. He thought that Jacob died, because that was his plan. That was his… seal, to the prophecy he spoke about all the time, and only now does it hit her. Memories storm her as she watches Joseph clench his jaw.
“It was always going to happen this way…” Faith said before dying, ascending into the water. “I’m happy with
your decision, even if not entirely.“ Joseph said when they found out John
is alive. She thought that he meant: happy that John lived, not entirely,
because she kept it a secret. But really he meant he was happy for John to
live, but not entirely because she was supposed to kill him, because that’s
what God told him, that losing his family was the sacrifice he had to make for
the Collapse to come… She didn’t realize it at the time, didn’t make sense of all
that. But now she does and it’s already too late.
"You
wanted them dead.” She whispers to Joseph, who doesn’t deny it, just looks her in the eyes, his eyes flaming red behind the yellow tinted glasses. “You wanted them to die.”
He speaks up in return: “It was supposed to be God’s wish. But you denied their destiny.”
Hope feels disgust towards the Seed, more than she ever felt before and she pities the other siblings. She wishes she didn’t kill Faith, she wishes that she could just get rid of Joseph somehow. She wants to give him a piece of her mind, but John speaks up before her. His voice is sore, scartchy for not using it much. He walks from behind Joseph to in between the Deputy and his brother.
“Is this true?” His voice is filled with anger and hurt as he looks at his elder brother. Joseph looks from Hope to his little brother as he tilts his head back.
“It was supposed to set you free.”
“I don’t FUCKING care what it was supposed to be!” John shouts as tears gather up in his eyes. “You lied to me!”
Hope can only watch from behind John the scene and the cultists around them seem buffled by the events, no one is speaking or moving as they watch their two leaders get into a verbal fight.
“I didn’t lie to you, John-” Joseph starts, with a much calmer voice than which he used to talking to Hope.
“YES! YES, you did lie to me!” John shouts into his face, pointing a finger at his brother. “You told me we were going to be a family again! You told me we were supposed to enter your FUCKING Eden together! And now it turns out you were just as much of a liar as anyone else before! You are not better then old man Seed!”
Hope flinches as John’s hurt voice and recalls the time she read Joseph’s book about their parents. She fears he stepped a line, but not because she fears for Joseph’s feelings, hell no! But she doesn’t want Joseph’s wrath to hurt John.
“You don’t know what I sacrificed for this, all of this to become true! I sacrificed so much, for us to make God’s wish true!” Joseph answers, but John had enough of his bullshit.
“You’re crazy!” He says shaking his head and that seems to push Joseph over the line.
Events start to happen too fast, for Hope to react at first. Joseph grabs the gun from his holster and points it at her. She doesn’t have any time to move or react before he pulls the trigger. She hears the shot, but doesn’t feel any pain, and it takes her a moment to realize that John grabbed his brother’s arm and aimed the gun at the sky in time. Earl and Sharky move to cover the junior deputy, grabbing their guns and getting ready for a fight with Joseph, but they can’t get a right aim, as John and Joseph fight each other for the gun in the elder’s hand.
After a short struggle Joseph gets pushed away from John, and he almost fells to the ground, but gains his balance back. Hope tries to see everything from behind Earl and Sharky and is ready to step in if Joseph has the gun, but she watches the cult leader empty handed as he looks at his younger brother.
John aims the gun at Joseph’s head as he backs away, right next to Hope and the others. He doesn’t look away from Joseph, not even for a second, but he blindly reaches for Hope’s hand and she grabs onto him, like her life depended on it. She can feel him shaking from anger, fear and sadness. Meanwhile Joseph just stands there in front of them, defeated.
“So…. this is how it’s going to end, huh?” He asks with a sad and fake laugh.
“You did this for yourself, brother…” John almost spits the last word, no love behind the meaning of the word.
Joseph laughs at that, a mad man’s laughter, no happiness or humour behind it. He tears up, looking at John, his hair which got loose in the fight with John falling into his eyes. Then he looks at Hope and she reflexively steps back a bit, half hidden behind John. Joseph smiles at her, a sad smile.
“We were supposed to be together… You were going to be my reward for all my sufferings.” He says, no anger, just disappointment and want behind his words. She even feels like he believes what he’s saying.
“Well, you were wrong.” She responds, not even disgust in her voice, just pity for the pathetic man in front of them.
He laughs again and all of a sudden charges at them. Hope blinks as she hears the gun next to her fire. Joseph stops merely a meter away from them and looks at his brother, shocked, as if he never would have guessed that John would actually shoot him. He looks down at himself, watching blood trickle down from his abdomen, painting his clothes red.
The cultist start shouting at them, readying their weapons, but before anyone could start a fire a hellish sound welcomes them. The wind picks up and in the distance a blinding light comes to life, before taking the shape of a mushroom.
Everyone looks shocked, except for Hope and Joseph. Hope looks at the man, who in the meantime feel to his knees in front of them and they look each other in the eye:
“It is done, child.” He says pain and happiness painting his face.
Way before anyone can even react Hope grabs John’s arm, who looks at the direction of the bomb, like everyone else and she shouts at Earl and Sharky as she makes them make a run for the truck.
“LET’S GO! NOW!”
It all seems like a dream from then. Events only making their way to her mind. She sees themselves getting into the truck, Earl taking the wheele. Her radio crackles to life and she can hear Dutch’s voice telling her, shocked that she was right. She sees John looking out the window, glancing back at Joseph and his people, who all gather around him and make him sit in another car. But the cultists aren’t going for them, they’re going the exact opposite direction.
It takes them record time to get from Joseph’s compound to the Valley, to John’s bunker.
When they exit the car, they can see the whole county in flames, but they don’t stay around for too long as they all enter the bunker. Inside, a whole crowd is gathered. And while Earl starts speaking to people, searching for Jerome, discussing the events and asking how many of them are gathered inside, Sharky sits down next to a wall, trying to process the events. John stays silent, staying right at the closed door of the bunker, looking into the distance. Hope tries to process everything as well, trying to make out how many people must be inside the bunker, looking for familiar faces. Spotting Liza and Adam somewhere. Watching Jerome and Earl around kids, unfamiliar people dressed in cultist clothes. She walks between them, muttering to some people, making sure everyone is alright, before a shout comes from within the crowd.
“WHAT THE FUCK IS HE DOING HERE?!” It’s Mary May’s voice and Hope doesn’t have to guess who she is referring to.
The crowd gets a bit more silent as they all gather in a circle. She makes her way back to the door, where John stands, looking at Mary May and the others. He looks out of place, he looks lost. He stays silent, which angers the bartender ever more.
“Get him the fuck out of here! He doesn’t deserve to be in here!”
She says, before Earl and Jerome stop her from grabbing and throwing John out.
Hope makes her way to between them as she raises her hands, her voice tired as she says.
“Relax, just… everyone relax, please.”
Mary May looks at her before getting out of Earl’s and Jerome’s hold and she walks towards John with a fist ready.
Hope stands between them, grabbing her by the chest, pushing her away.
“No, Mary May, stop!”
“Stop?! Deputy, this sonuvabitch did more harm than good! Hell, no good! He’s getting out!”
Hope sighs, feeling exhausted with all the events that happened today and feeling fatigue all of a sudden. But she makes out another protest.
“He’s staying!”
The bartender looks at her, feeling hurt and betrayed as she points at John and her.
“I don’t care if you two fucked, he’s leaving!”
She sighs, getting even more dizzier than before as she pushes the woman away a bit. Mary May backs up, but she’s still ready to jump at John in any second. Meanwhile Hope almost loses her balance, but she says.
“I’m pregnant.”
It’s a simple sentence. And she already told it to a couple of people, she got used to it, but it still makes the whole crowd silent, including Mary May. It’s true she told a couple of people about the pregnancy, but she made sure others didn’t know about it, and it shows as the woman looks buffled about her sentence, just as most of the people around them.
“YOU’RE WHAT?!” She asks as he looks at her, completely forgetting about her revenge on the youngest Seed. “How?”
She makes an exhausted laugh.
“I’m sure you’re familiar with the process of getting someone pregnant.” She tries to answer with some humour, because still, in bad situations she deals with stress by making jokes.
“This isn’t funny.” Mary May even says as she looks at her. “Who’s the father?” But she already fears the junior deputy’s answer.
She would have cared more about the announcment, but with all of the events, with Joseph, the bomb, it just doesn’t matter anymore. She turns around, looking at John. She feared his reaction so much about the whole thing, but looking at him now, his fear and shock, she’s just… too… tired.
“John.” She answers, with a smile, before frowning and feeling the ground move under her feet. She panics for a second, thinking that maybe a bomb dropped right at the bunker, but then she hears John’s, Nick’s and Earl’s panicked voice as she falls to the ground. She doesn’t feel the fall and before anything can happen, she’s fast asleep.
Hope wakes up surprisingly comfortable and well rested as she opens her eyes. It takes her a moment to process and realize that she’s no longer in any of the houses of Hope County. And that no longer will she see the sunrise. But it doesn’t make her depressed. The room she’s in is luxurious as she looks around. The bed is a king sized one, with a golden silk blanket which feels like a dream to her skin. There’s a wardrobe, a desk, a couple of bookshelves in the room. There’s two doors, leading… somewhere. And a couple of paintings on the walls, and even a tv in front of the bed.
She sits up, blinking a couple of times making sure she’s awake and she’s not just dreaming about the room. Where the hell am I?
She asks in her head when one of the doors open and Liza comes into the room with a medkit. The young woman looks at her, relieved that Hope’s awake.
“Oh, thank God, you’re awake. We were worried about you, you know.” She says, but smiles as she closes the door behind her and sits in a chair next to the bed. “How are you feeling?”
Hope smiles as she answers. “Well… you know. I’m fine, just the usual. The end of the world, trying to calm down people from killing John, getting unconcious like always.”
Liza shakes her head but smiles as she gets some things ready to check up on Hope. A light to check her pupils and some other medical stuff. “Glad you still got your humour, sweetheart.”
“Can’t get rid of that, ever.” Hope responds laughing slightly, then frowns, worry clear on her face.
Liza looks at her and like she reads her mind she says:
“John’s okay… well, Mary May punched him in the face once. But still, he’s not thrown out of the bunker, so that means he’s okay…. You don’t have to worry.”
Hope smiles, thinking that yeah, John probably deserved that punch, but she’s glad people calmed down a bit.
“I should go and find him, you know we still haven’t had the pregnancy talk, sooo….” Hope says after a quick exam, but Liza gives her a warning look.
“You better stay in bed, Hope. Seriously, you should just rest and-”
But the young woman is already up and out of the bed. She’s not hurrying though, because she’s still unsteady, but she smiles at Liza.
“Nope, I’m going.”
The woman is shaking her head.
“Of course you are…”
It doesn’t take her much time to find John, he’s right out the door, sitting on a bench. When he looks up he’s surprised to see her, he probably waited for Liza to come out. He gets up quickly from the bench and walks up to Hope, grabbing her arm gently, like he’s ready to catch her if she falls down again.
“You should be in bed.” He says, worry in his voice, but a smile spread across his face.
“Yeah, well… you know me. I can’t stay put for too long.”
He chuckles lightly.
“I know… it’s annoying.”
Hope smiles at him as she answers:
“And you love it.”
She feels anxious after saying that, because the ‘i love you’ talk never happened between them either, and she bites her bottom lip, which John watches with a soft smile. The softest she thinks she ever saw him and it makes her heart race in her chest.
“I do.”
Hope smiles at that again and sighs, getting ready for The Speech.
“So…” She starts, and John nods.
“So…” He repeats her words, but both of them stay silent as they’re not sure what to say to each other.
“I was going to tell you, you know.” She says after a minute of silence. “Well… I didn’t plan to tell you like this, but… why would anything happen the way we want, huh?”
She tries joking and John nods looking at her in the eyes before glancing at her stomach. It’s still barely visible, but now that she’s out of her jacket and in a single sweater, the swell of her stomach is more visible as well.
John reaches his hand towards her, but takes his hand back when he’s just an inch close to it. She looks at him, reading his face. He looks unsure and worried. Like he fears he would hurt their child just by touching her stomach.
She holds his hand in hers, her palm over his, and she closes the space between his hand and her stomach. He huffs out the air from his lungs as he smiles, amazed just by the touch. She rests his hand there, then he starts brushing his fingers over her belly. A chuckle leaving him, and she sees tears rolling down his face.
“I’m going to be a father.” He says, as he can’t believe his statement.
“Yupp.” She says with an encouraging smile.
She watches him and feels like she could burst from the affection and love that she sees in his eyes as he watches her belly. She speaks before thinking, but not even for a second she regrets saying it:
“I love you.”
John looks up at her, yet again shocked and he laughs, tears rolling down his face and she caresses his cheeks, rubbing away the wetness on his face with a loving smile.
The moment is ruined as chewing can be heard right next to them. Both of them look to the right to see Sharky eating chips. He looks like a child who has been caught stealing cookies.
“Sorry, go on. I’m just watching here.” He says and both Hope and John starts laughing at that.
Sharky smiles at them.
“So… you told him?” Boshaw asks as he looks at his best friend and points at John with his head.
“Told me what?” John asks with a frown, but his happiness is still showing.
“I’m gonna be the Godfather.” Sharky says proudly with a grin.
John looks at him shocked, then at Hope.
“Like hell he will!”
Sharky pouts, offended:
“Heeey!”
Hope only just laughs at them as she starts walking in the corridor, with the two man behind her, arguing like children.
“Trinity! There’s no way in hell, we’re letting Boshaw be the Godfather!”
“Excuse me? I’m going to be the best godfather in the world!” He says, and his sentence is followed with a loud burp.
“This is unbeliavable!” John says facepalming.
Hope only just chuckles at the two of them before stopping as she reaches the end of the corridor and looks at the bunker with shock.
“What the…” She says amazed by the interior garden and luxurious place.
She turns around looking at John in shock, who finally looks proud of himself and his usual smug grin appears.
“Like what you see?”
Hope huffs out a laugh as she looks back at the place then turns around pointing at John:
“Are you serious??? This whole time the bunker was some luxurious ass place? And you put me in the darkest and most depressing cheap ass room when I was here?” She refers to when he got her at the Confession.
He shrugs.
“Well, I mean-” He starts but Hope punches his shoulder playfully and then smiles, looking at the crowd below, everyone seeming happy, even with the events.
John just chuckles and hugs her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulders. His hands caressing her belly while she smiles and looks at the people down there. Earl is there as he looks up and waves to her with a smile. She waves back, then sighs. It’s a sigh of relieve, one that she didn’t have in a long time. Finally she feels at peace, save and happy. Surrounded by people she loves. And just about in some months, she’ll meet someone new that she can love as well. And ironicly it’s all thanks to one person.
“John Seed…” She starts with his full name which gains her a raise of his eyebrows as he humms in question. “You are my savior.” She says with a light chuckle.
He humms with a smile as he responds.
“And you are the whole county’s, my dear.”
A/N: THE END! hahaha finally, I got to the end, and can follow up with the next season, called Through the Gates! Thanks for everyone that followed my little story and had even just a bit of interest in my ocs. ♥♥♥
I’ve got a JohnxFemale Deupty Fanfic in mind based off a song that to me just screams John Seed. I wanna write it out but I don’t have enough worked out in my head just yet. Maybe I should take notes as I come up with ideas…
A searing shot of pain ran up the young woman’s body, a scream escaping her pale lips as the devastating sounds bounced off the room’s walls. A man sat opposite the weeping woman, an iron fire poker by his side. His hands were firmly clasped under his chin, a grin stretched across his face. He was handsome, yes, but his charm had long gone. His hair was unruly, and dark circles outlined his eyes. His skin was paler than it once was, as he hadn’t been outside for quite some time, but the current weather probably wouldn’t help recover the loss.
The man didn’t seem at all bothered by the screams that came from his victim. If anything, he seemed amused by her pain. His stormy eyes stared down at the twitching body before him as if he were inspecting a freshly plucked turkey, all ready to go into the oven. The light that licked up the sides of the bunker reflected off the beads of sweat that had settled on the woman’s forehead.
“Atonment…shall only come through pain.”
Her eyes have frozen over like the surface of a winter puddle, robbing them of their usual warmth. She’s in there, he knows it, but it’s like she just took a huge step back from life. Another would want to reach in and tell her it isn’t hopeless, but he won’t. He has a want to rekindle her heat, but her insides are too black with unconfessed sins.
He knew she had pain inside, but now its visible on her face.
Her arms ached. No matter how she could move them, they would be impossibly numb. Someone could cut them off, and she likely wouldn’t feel a thing. She was exhausted. There was no way to sleep with him looming over her. It had been two days. No food. No water. Her numb arms were one of the least of her problems, though they were an irritant as was he.
“Simply Confess to me, and then we can walk through the gates together.”
Incidentally, her head ached and her shoulders ached, and her lungs ached, and the ankle-bones of both feet ached quite excruciatingly. But nothing of her felt permanently incapacitated except her noble expression.
