Black Horse (John Seed x Reader)

chapter fifteen

Hell fire is the word John would use to describe your anger right now.

Your knees curled against your body as you sat down on your bed, the inside of your palms pressing deeply into your temples. You squeezed your eyes shut, taking in deep gulps of breath in attempt to stop the boiling rage inside of you.

If this was like any other night at the ranch, you would've been sitting happily on the roof and gazing at the stars above. However, no amount of stars could calm you down tonight. You shook with anger, your fingers racking into your tousled and tangled hair over and over again.

The television that sat on the dresser across the room was still sparking, the remote control thrown into the screen when your commercial played over and over again. The silky blue dress shirt that belonged to John was tore into shreds on the floor.

You couldn't help but wonder if the rage inside of you was an attempt to cover up the hurt. You were convinced the tears that streaked down your face were from your anger, but now you started to wonder if it was the cause of something else.

You thought that maybe he was different. Somehow, you had uncovered the hard act of John and revealed the loving side Joseph was telling you about. Somehow, you had found it. Somehow, John was opening up to you.

You couldn't help but feel betrayed. Fooled almost. You had trusted him with so much, and you had even grown to look forward to seeing him again. John was the only thing on your mind. Yet, he treated you like another one of his one night stands. Like Holly.

...You could kill him. That was always an option.

Your eyes shot open when you heard a curt yell from across the hall. Your hand instinctively went to your hip, hoping that your .44 Magnum would be strapped securely in your holder. Man, you missed your guns.

When an identical scream sounded again, you crawled out of bed and made your way to the door. The wooden floorboards creaked as you stepped into the hallway. You began tip toeing down the corridor, freezing in your tracks when another yell came from John's bedroom.

You pulled the door open slowly, poking your head into the pitch black room. You could see his figure tossing and turning in the blankets, half of the covers tumbled on to the floor. You clicked the door shut quietly and held your hands out in front of you as you walked towards the bed.

You made your way over to the window beside John's nightstand, successfully not tripping over anything in the dark room. You pulled the curtains aside, letting the moonlight enter the dreary surroundings. Your eyes adjusted to the dim light, and you noticed John sleeping with a pain-filled expression covering his face.

As you stared down at him, you realized he was having a nightmare. The anger you felt towards him a few moments ago completely washed away as you watched the man toss and turn in the bed. You crawled on to the mattress beside him, noticing that he was almost panting.

Your hand gently skimmed his cheek, which was moist with sweat. His face twitched at your touch, but you noticed his breathing slow slightly. His hands clenched the covers that were pulled against his chest.

Your brow crinkled as your eye caught something you had never noticed before. John's left hand had the infamous seven deadly sins tattooed across it, but something was off about it.

You gently unlatched his fingers from the covers, lifting his hand into the light to get a better look. You recognized six of them, thanks to your college class of Latin, but sloth was missing from the collection. The sin sketched across his chest took its place.

However, the seventh non-sin on his hand read tristitia which you knew translated to sorrow. Your eyes widened in pure shock, your heart dropping in your chest. You kissed his fingers softly, sudden pity entering your mind for the man.

A yell erupted from John's lips once again, making you jump in surprise. This time, he shot up into a sitting position in the bed with wide eyes. Something in his nightmare jerked him awake, making him gasp for air.

"John!" You exclaimed, holding his hand against your chest. His frantic eyes turned to you, scanning your face multiple times with unfamiliarity. It was difficult for him to make any facial features out due to the darkness of the room.

"It's me," you whispered fiercely, reaching out to touch his cheek, "Just me." John grabbed your wrist immediately and pinned it to the bed, flinching immensely at your fingers on his skin. You yelped in shock.

"(Y/n)," he wheezed breathlessly, completely letting go of your wrist as his eyes filled with recognition. "It was just a dream," you shook your head, scooting closer to him on the bed. His chest was rising and falling quickly, and you tried to keep your gaze away from his sculpted torso.

John nodded slowly, his eyes staring off into space. Although he agreed, his facial expression told you that he didn't believe you at all. You were tempted to ask him what the nightmare was about. What made him scream, what made him flinch at your touch, what made him sweat profusely, what made him so scared?

You gently brushed the hair out of his eyes, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. John closed his pained eyes, his bottom lip quivering. You pulled away from him, your nose brushing against his as you held the back of his damp neck. The ends of his hair was dripping with sweat.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You murmured, making John shake his head viciously. Seeing the lost expression on his face and the terrified gaze in his eyes made your heart ache. No matter how angry you were at him, you had to push your grudges aside to help him.

"Hey," you cooed softly, "Look at me." John reluctantly pulled his deep blue eyes to you. "You're okay now. No one's gonna hurt you anymore," you wrapped your hand around his, showing him a soft smile in the moonlight. The tattoo on his hand crossed your mind again, making you give his palm a firm squeeze.

John didn't respond. Instead, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a tight embrace. Your face rested on his shoulder, and you placed a gentle kiss there to calm him. John sighed deeply, burying his nose in your hair and inhaling your sweet scent.

Eventually, you got him to lay back down underneath the warm covers of his bed. Your body was pressed against his, your face nuzzled into the crook of his neck and your fingertips softly tracing over the scarred sin on his chest. His arms were still tightly wrapped around you.

"I'm not going anywhere, okay?" You whispered, tilting your head up to gaze at him. He peered down at you, and you thought for a moment that tears were filling his eyes. "I'm staying right here," you snuggled back into his chest, his beard scratching your forehead. Then, he croaked out a few of the only words he had spoken that night.

"Thank you."

poor baby john :( what do you think his nightmare was about? are you still mad at him for the commercial (you should be)? what do you think will happen in the morning? will everything be happy and forgiven? lemme hear those predictions, people!