outlaws for life

i hope this is okay!

it…. kind of… turned into a lil’ smut…

warnings: vaginal fingering, jacob seed being a bastard as always

also on ao3!

In retrospect, Rook shouldn’t have let this fling continue for as long as it has. It should have been a one-and-done kind of thing—fuck, it should have never happened at all. If anyone actually found out what was going on, Rook would probably become as vilified as the Seeds. As vilified as the Seed she’s trapped in this cabin with.

Well, not trapped. Not quite stuck either. She’s free to move, nothing holding her back, but situationally—emotionally—she’s fucking stuck.

Because Jacob fucking Seed has trapped her into this conversation. Jacob fucking Seed is, for some absurd reason, trying to define the relationship.

(sorry jacob it’s sharky time) i hope this is okay!!

prompt: “i lost the baby”

tw: mentions of a miscarriage

also on ao3!

Static blares from the car radio. They had been listening to music just now, hadn’t they? How long had it been since the song ended, since they lost signal? Rook swears it was just a minute ago, but the thought feels wrong.

She leans her head on the car window, listening to the air conditioning rattle. Somehow it seems louder than the car radio, louder than her thoughts, louder than the gravelly notes of Sharky’s voice.

“Dep?”

Rook blinks slowly, watching the grass bristle in the wind outside the car. They’ve stopped moving. When did they stop moving?

“Dep? Hey.”

The sky is grey outside. She doesn’t remember the day progressing that far—how long have they been driving for? How long has she been… not quite present?

combined this with another prompt too, hope that’s alright!

prompts:

187: “ Already? Do I really have that much of an effect on you? ” 

194: “ Good boy. ” 

word count: 3,688

also on ao3!

nsfw below!

-

“So,” Rook says once Jacob’s soldiers have left the room. She clears her throat awkwardly, unable to keep her eyes on Jacob for too long.

“So,” he echoes, looking unimpressed.

Maybe this was a bad idea. “Well, ah…”

“Time’s tickin’, Deputy. I suggest you get on with it,” Jacob says gruffly, each consonant stark in the quiet of the room. He sets the clipboard he was holding down on the desk, papers and maps scattered about. “If you got cold feet about selling out the Whitetails, I got better places to be, and you got a cage to starve in.”

“Wait, back up,” Rook frowns. “I’m not here to give you information. I—I thought that was a front.”

There’s a pause. An awkward pause.

“A front,” Jacob echoes flatly.

“Yeah,” she shrugs, “like, ah, because—”

Oh no. She stops herself, gesturing vaguely with her hands instead. This is so not going where she thought it would, apparently, and now she just doesn’t want to say it. Things are already weird enough. Things are already bad enough. She’s stuck in Jacob’s compound spending her days in her cage or ‘culling the herd,’ she doesn’t want to make it any worse by giving him some kind of humiliating leverage.

“Use your words, Deputy. Or have my trials fried your brain completely?” Jacob purses his lips, mocking disappointment on his face. “Thought you were Stronger than that.”

Ah, fuck it.

“Thought you were, um, propositioning me out there. This morning.”