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"And you’re sure your contact said it was here?" Rook asks, tapping her foot on the wet ground. The rain of Dock Town is particularly relentless today, leaving her soaked to the bone.
"We’re missing something. We must be," Neve replies, her sharp gaze scanning their surroundings, hands planted firmly on her hips.
"Only thing I’m missing is a hot cup of coffee," Rook mutters, brushing wet strands of her bangs from her forehead. "Just imagine, sitting in front of the fire at the Lighthouse…" She trails off.
"Rook," Neve interrupts, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I told you to stay behind. Multiple times."
Rook scoffs, crossing her arms and kicking at a pebble on the ground. "Yeah, well, usually clearing out some Venatori is a quick job. But this place seems abandoned already. We should move to the next."
"This isn’t just about clearing them out," Neve responds, her tone firm as she crouches down to inspect a scrap of paper crumpled near her boot, but the rain has unsurprisingly ruined the ink. "We have to figure out why they were here first and why they’ve moved on. And it seems they’ve done an annoyingly good job of covering their tracks."
"If you ask me, we should hit them now and ask questions later."
Neve straightens. "That’s exactly the kind of reckless thinking that gets people killed," she says coolly, her eyes flicking toward Rook. "I won’t risk—"
She goes quiet for a moment, the only sound between them is the patter of rain against stone. There’s something unreadable in her gaze.
Before Neve can get lost in whatever she has on her mind more, Rook steps closer, and without warning, she leans up and plants a kiss on Neve’s lips—a quick peck that catches the taller woman off guard for just a moment.
"Hey, relax. You’ve got this," Rook says, slipping a hand under Neve’s robes and squeezing her waist. "And who knows, it could even turn out to be fun."
"Suddenly it’s fun?" Neve scoffs, her eyes narrowing. Still, she doesn’t pull away, instead, she traces a thumb over Rook’s bottom lip. "All day you’ve done nothing but complain. The case, the weather—"
"Don’t forget my wet socks," Rook grins.
It’s a terrible idea, provoking Neve like this, and Rook knows it. She knows she shouldn’t push the woman who means so much to her, shouldn’t risk what they’ve built with her own recklessness. But the way Neve’s eyes burn with impatience and dissatisfaction sends a whole new kind of heat coursing through her.
It’s been a while since the last time they’d been able to spend some quality time together, and Rook craves the rush that Neve never fails to give her.
"How could I forget," Neve hisses, still leaning in close, her breath hot against Rook’s ear, "when you’ve been moaning about them every two minutes?"
For a moment, the air between them feels charged, then Neve’s usual mask of professionalism snaps back.
"Now," she says, her tone composed, "could you please be quiet for one minute and let me do my work?"
Rook’s grin widens into something sly and wicked, her sharp elven canines glinting. She knows she’s being a fool. A huge fool. But that’s never stopped her before.
"Make me, Detective," she murmurs, her voice low and teasing.
Neve stiffens visibly. "Rook, don’t," she warns, holding Rook’s gaze without wavering. There is a flicker of heat behind dark brown eyes, and Rook wants nothing more than to fan the embers further.
"And what if I do?"
The response is immediate. Neve shoves her against a stack of crates with a dull thud, cupping the back of her head so it won’t slam against the wood in full force. Still, Rook is momentarily disoriented from getting her breath quite literally punched out of her lungs.
"What’s up with you today, Rook? I’m starting to think you’re trying to rile me up on purpose," Neve says, leaning in so close that Rook can count the freckles on her cheeks.
The bow she still has strapped to her back digs uncomfortably into her spine, the scrape of expensive steel against the wood making her wince. Neve gives her space for just a second to take the bow off and Rook hurriedly pulls the leather strap over her head, letting the weapon fall beside her.
The discomfort is quickly forgotten, though, when Neve leans in close again and cages her in between the crates and her tall body.
Rook doesn’t wait for Neve to lead this time. Instead, she grabs Neve’s hand that had been pressing against her chest and guides it lower until it rests firmly between her legs. Her head tips back, a quiet moan escaping her lips when Neve’s hand instinctively cups her.
"So that’s what all this is about," Neve murmurs, her tone softening and suddenly sounding too sweet.
"Do you know that instead of being a brat, you could just ask me for what you need?" She continues, tightening her hand at the back of Rook’s head, fingers tangling into the dark, wet locks. She pulls just enough to make Rook lift her chin. "I would have given it to you, sweetheart."
Rook exhales sharply, her pulse quickening. She feels the blood rushing to her center and her flushed cheeks, feels every beat of her heart pounding in her chest.
"So?" Rook breathes, letting one of her hands wander to the back of Neve’s neck. She begins to pull the neatly tied bun there apart, wanting nothing more than to chip away at Neve’s composure. "Give it to me, then."
"You’re awfully bold," Neve says, her voice dipping into a low purr. "Brave, even, to think you’re getting anything from me after all that. Not before you’ve earned it."
"You’re demanding today, Neve," Rook replies, a last resort of offering some kind of feigned resistance. She hooks her fingers under Neve’s collar, leaning in to place a kiss there, making sure to follow it up with a nip of teeth.
"I’ve simply figured you out." Neve lets the words hang in the air, heavy and suffocating, before snapping, "Hey. Eyes on me."
Rook freezes at the tone, her gaze snapping back to Neve’s in an instant.
"There you are," Neve mumbles against Rook’s lips, then kisses the raindrops off of them.
Neve always kisses like she’s fucking starving for Rook, she kisses like she fights—full of confidence and control, right where Rook needs her to be.
Rook gives as good as she gets, though, trying her best to keep up with Neve’s slow, deep kisses. She sucks on the woman’s tongue, tasting coffee and smoke, a familiar combination that she’s gotten hopelessly addicted to. A sharp pain on her bottom lip surprises her, and she moans as Neve nips at the skin until it’s sensitive and swollen, until Rook is sure that she’s about to taste blood soon. The thought doesn’t bother her, though—if anything, it spurs her on even more because all of her belongs to Neve, anyway.
A shiver runs down her spine as she hears a satisfied hum against her mouth, before Neve parts them and cups Rook’s jaw, finding her gaze once more. She turns them around so that she’s the one against the crates now.
"Down," Neve commands, a single word that makes Rook gulp.
Rook is still in a daze, trying to find her balance again with weak knees and a pounding heart.
When the word finally registers, she hesitates for a fraction of a second, and Neve arches a brow.
"Kneel," Neve repeats, her tone firmer this time.
And Rook obeys, sinking to her knees on the wet ground, her breath shallow and uneven. The rain on the cool stone soaks through her clothes immediately, but she barely notices it and cares even less.
"Good," Neve says, her lips curling into a faint, satisfied smile. Her hand loosens in Rook’s hair, fingers brushing against her scalp in an almost tender gesture. "Stay there."
For a moment, the only sound is the relentless patter of rain against the crates. Then Neve tilts her head, studying Rook with a gaze that’s both calculating and amused. Her smirk is cutting and sharp, much like the daggers strapped to Rook’s hips.
"You look pretty like this, Trouble," she says, her voice a quiet, seductive whisper. "Our fearless leader, on her knees for me. I could get used to this."
Rook’s lips curl into a grin of her own as she parts Neve’s robes, her fingers trailing along the fabric before she wraps her hand around the back of the woman’s thigh, teasingly sliding it higher. "So, you’ve got me on my knees. Is that all you want?"
Neve doesn’t bother with an answer this time, instead, she fiddles with the buttons on her pants, undoing them one by one.
"Help me out of these, will you?" She says, nudging Rook’s knee with the toe of her boot.
Rook meets her gaze before she slides her hands over the smooth leather. Her fingers move slowly and deliberately as she caresses the material and then pulls the boot free, carefully setting it aside. Then, Neve steps out of her pants with her now free leg, somehow making the movement look more graceful than it has any right to be.
The wet ground of the city doesn’t seem to bother her as she shifts her leg and raises the other one, draping it over Rook’s shoulder in one fluid motion. A soft sigh escapes her lips as the pressure of her prosthesis eases up, and Rook doesn’t even care about the hard metal of it now digging into her back. The robes are long enough to hide her lower half entirely, and with Rook crouched behind the crates, Neve looks pretty inconspicuous—not that any sensible citizen would have reason to walk down this alley anyway, but the thought of it thrills Rook. The prospect of someone taking in the image of her kneeling in front of Neve, her head between the woman’s legs, almost close enough to taste.
Neve’s leg forces her forward with the pressure on her back, and Rook lets herself be pulled in easily. There is no denying what direction this is rapidly moving into, and she is very on board with it.
"Need it that bad, huh?" She murmurs, slipping her fingers beneath the hem of Neve’s panties. "Not that I’m complaining. Just didn’t think that you would be one for public… indecency."
"It’s only indecent if we get caught," Neve replies, gathering up Rook’s hair on top of her head and keeping it in her fist. "And this seems like the best way to shut you up. Or can that mouth of yours really only talk?"
Rook hums. "You liked my mouth just fine last time."
"Beginner’s luck."
"That’s why your legs wouldn’t stop shaking—"
She doesn’t get to finish her sentence before Neve gives her a harsh shove forward with the back of her prosthesis, and Rook yelps, momentarily caught off balance, her face fully pushed into Neve’s crotch.
"Get me there," the woman says, tilting her hips forward, her voice sharp and demanding. "Make it quick."
Rook grins and kisses over Neve’s underwear, her pulse picking up when she realizes how damp the fabric already is. She doesn’t tease any longer, instead, she pushes the panties to the side, holding them there with one hand while she uses the other to hold Neve close.
She licks over Neve’s cunt in one broad stroke, humming in satisfaction at the feeling of how soaked she is and how her hips rock forward into Rook’s face, wordlessly begging for more.
She likes this, Rook thinks. Me on my knees for her.
Rook is getting exactly what she wants.
Neve exhales sharply when Rook closes her lips around her clit and sucks hard, alternating with little flicks of tongue that she knows by now Neve is weak for. Her preferences haven’t changed, it seems, when the quiet whispers of Rook’s name and the hand urging her closer are anything to go by.
Rook’s neck is definitely gonna be an issue after this, but she really can’t find it in herself to care, not when she can feel the mixture of Neve’s slick with her own spit running down her chin, hot and sticky and utterly delicious, getting thicker by the second.
Neve taps Rook’s cheek with her free hand and Rook pulls back reluctantly, looking up and meeting Neve’s gaze again.
The woman’s cheeks are flushed and her bottom lip is caught between her teeth, looking swollen and bitten. Rain drips from the ends of her hair, the drops leaving trails over her cheeks and neck. What undoes Rook, though, is the expression in her eyes—dark and wild and hungry. For all this. For her.
Neve swipes a thumb over Rook’s bottom lip, gathering up the slick there before gently pushing it into Rook’s mouth. "You’re making a mess, sweetheart. As always."
"I hope you’re not expecting an apology," Rook replies, licking her lips and savoring the taste of Neve left there.
"Not if you keep being so good for me," Neve says. "You’re such a pretty girl on your knees, do you know that?"
The praise rushes through Rook, making heat bloom in her chest and core, sending sharp tingles to her center.
"Even prettier if you’d give me your fingers," Neve adds, then uses the leg on Rook’s shoulder to pull her back in.
Rook doesn’t need to be told twice and immediately flattens her tongue over Neve’s cunt again, prodding at the entrance and groaning at the desire to have her fingers in there right now.
She removes her hand from Neve’s thigh and pulls away from her cunt for a moment, sliding the digits through the woman’s soaked, puffy lips to get them wet and ready.
As the fingers ease in, Rook hears the dull thud of Neve leaning her head back against the crates above her, then a quiet moan when she thrusts them in and out slowly.
Rook moves back to flick her tongue over Neve’s clit, curling her fingers and increasing the pace when she feels Neve tightening around her, the wet heat heavenly as it flutters around her fingers.
Once she feels Neve’s thigh on her shoulder begin to tremble, she keeps the pace, rhythmically thrusting her fingers and curling them every time they fully sink inside.
"Rook," Neve chokes out, her composure cracking with each thrust Rook gives. "Don’t you dare stop."
Rook moans at the way Neve’s voice sounds, already wrecked and desperate, mixing so sweetly with the wet sounds of her pussy as she rides Rook’s face.
"So good," she sighs, right before her fist in Rook’s hair tightens even more and she comes with a low, drawn-out moan, bucking her hips and tightening so beautifully around Rook’s fingers.
Rook keeps going while Neve rides out wave after wave against her, up until her fist relaxes and her hips twitch away from overstimulation.
"Oh, Rook," she breathes finally, carding her fingers through Rook’s hair, gently brushing out any knots she’d left there. "Come here."
The pressure on Rook’s shoulder eases when Neve goes to remove her leg, and Rook holds onto her thigh just long enough to kiss the inside of it, right over the fabric of her pants.
When Rook stands again, her knees ache as if there are bruises already forming on them from the rough ground. Rook hopes so—she wants to be reminded of this whenever possible. Wants to get on her knees again later when she’s alone, remembering Neve’s taste and the way she’d felt around her fingers.
Droplets of rain cling to Neve’s parted lips, and the flush beneath her freckles is even more intense from this close. Rook surges forward, her hand on the back of Neve’s neck as she pulls the taller woman down and lets their breaths mingle for a second before she meets her in a passionate kiss.
Rook teases the seam of Neve’s lips, immediately dipping her tongue in when she gets the chance. Neve responds eagerly, sucking the taste of herself from Rook’s tongue and letting out a quiet moan as she does.
When they part, she licks her lips as if still chasing after her own taste, and Rook feels like she might burst.
"Fuck, that was so hot," Rook pants, still left breathless from the kiss. "I’ll need you to ride my face properly next time."
She smirks at Neve, who returns the expression. "Sure you could handle that?"
"You’re a smart woman, why would you ask such a stupid question?" Rook replies.
They both chuckle, and a moment of comfortable silence settles over them, interrupted only by both of them trying to steady their breathing. Rook leans her head forward to rest it on Neve’s shoulder, and she’s certain she could stay here forever if it weren’t for the incessant ache between her legs and the way she can feel herself soaking through her underwear. But that had been a lost cause ever since Neve had pushed her up against the wall.
"Alright, my turn," Rook says, straightening up and pressing her body against Neve’s. "Or don’t I deserve a reward?"
Neve scoffs and runs a finger down Rook’s chest, the neckline of her top allowing the woman to trace the lines of an intricate tattoo there. Her finger leaves a cool trail of ice in its wake, a tingling little hint of magic. "If you think you can get me on my knees, you are sorely mistaken."
"I don’t need to see you kneel for me. What I want is for you to hold me down and fuck me until all I know is your name," Rook whispers against Neve’s ear, letting her tongue flick against the shell of it. "Think you could make me cry it out for everyone to hear? They’d all know that I’m yours."
It’s not like there’s anyone left on the team who doesn’t know that Neve and her are together—not after they’d been absent for a whole night after going out to a bar, only to return with matching bruises on their necks.
"But given our current situation, I’ll take the next best thing," Rook adds. "If you’re up for it, that is."
"I couldn’t possibly leave you high and dry now, could I?"
"Trust me, you would not be leaving me dry right now," Rook laughs and starts fiddling with the belts around her waist, hurriedly unbuckling them until she can reach the button of her pants.
Neve grumbles something that vaguely sounds like you’re impossible but lets her hands settle on Rook’s hips, helping her pull the stubborn leather trousers down. "You want to let me in on your plan?"
"Sure," Rook says, then taps Neve’s thigh that is still bare. "Lift your leg a bit."
She goes on to guide Neve’s leg between her own, which is a bit awkward at first because of her haphazardly shoved-down pants, but eventually, she feels the strong muscles of Neve’s thigh underneath her.
"Mh, just like that," Rook drawls with a dazed smile when she arches and tilts her hips, causing her cunt to rub right against the skin. She hadn’t touched herself at all and finds herself surprised at how soaked she already is, her pussy sliding over the woman’s thigh easier with every firm thrust.
Rook gives a drawn-out moan as she grinds down on Neve’s leg, already feeling the smooth skin get slippery with her own slick.
"You’re dripping all over me," Neve smirks, seemingly spurred on by Rook’s desperation, the expression immediately making Rook feel absolutely delirious with need. "That really all you need?"
Rook reaches out to grab one of Neve’s hands from her hips, but Neve just holds on tighter, pulling Rook against her.
"Use your words," the woman says, lazily letting her thumbs circle over Rook’s hipbones.
Rook adjusts her stance a bit, tilting her hips until Neve’s thigh presses up perfectly against her clit.
"Neve, I— your fingers, please. Just give me your hand," she moans, snaking her hand around the back of Neve’s neck and grabbing onto the hair there.
"Oh, sweetheart, look at me," Neve coos softly, though her expression is absolutely wicked. "I’m giving you plenty. If you need it so badly, you’ll come like this or not at all."
"I can’t just… I need more than that." Rook scoffs but rocks her hips against Neve’s leg. And even through her shame, she can’t deny how fucking good it feels.
Suddenly, the hands on Rook’s hips are gone, and so is the pressure against her cunt as Neve straightens. "You can’t? Fine, then let’s go."
"Fuck," Rook gasps, trying to get the friction back. Her cheeks are tinted a deep red from sheer, undeniable arousal. "Neve, wait—"
"So what’s it gonna be, Rook?" Neve says, then pulls Rook’s hips down again just as she pushes her own thigh up. "I think I know by now what you can. And you can be good and come while riding my leg."
She doesn’t wait for an answer, because she already knows. Instead, she sighs against Rook’s neck, latching onto the skin there, and Rook hisses, swallowing down a moan when Neve fucking digs her teeth in, the way she knows will unravel Rook in no time at all. It’s no surprise that someone like her knows all of Rook’s weaknesses already, but the way she perfectly uses them against her is exhilarating every time.
The movement causes Neve’s thigh to push up against Rook’s core hard, which makes Rook yelp before she has a chance to stop the sound from escaping.
"Quiet, Rook," Neve warns, her voice a soft vibration against Rook’s throat, where her pulse beats wildly.
"Oh, that’s rich coming from the one who—" Rook’s retort is cut off abruptly when two slender fingers get shoved into her mouth harshly, almost making her choke and silencing her.
Her small elven canines dig into the digits, a half-hearted attempt to free herself, but Neve has them hooked firmly in place.
"I said be quiet," the woman hisses lowly. "We don’t want to be caught like this."
And to be fair, the sheer thought of one of their team or, even worse, the Crows at home catching wind of her being found grinding against the Minrathous detective makes her want to join Solas in the Fade forever.
Still, she can’t seem to control the little twitch in her hips or the way she seems to get even wetter at the prospect of exactly that happening.
Neve pulls her close by using the fingers in her mouth, an action that forces an involuntary moan out of Rook’s throat.
"If you come for me now, I’ll take you apart later, just like you wanted to," Neve murmurs, her voice soft and honey-sweet. "Then, I want you to scream for me. Just like you promised before."
She leans in, her lips brushing against Rook’s jaw, leaving a trail of warm kisses over the few stray raindrops there. Her teeth graze the curve of Rook’s ear, sending a shiver through her, before continuing their path to the pointed tip. There, she pauses, sucking gently, her breath hot and teasing. "Or maybe not," she murmurs. "Maybe you won’t be able to, sweetheart."
It might be the words or the way Neve nips her ear, but Rook can only moan in response, and her whole body trembles, the inside of her thighs now sticky with the slick running down Neve’s. She’s fully rutting up against the woman’s thigh, her hips stuttering and losing their rhythm as she feels herself getting closer to the edge.
"It’s what you deserve after all this, don’t you think?" Neve purrs as her hand slips under the plunging neckline of Rook’s top. "Riling me up, then getting on your knees immediately. Have you always been this easy for everyone?"
Her grip on Rook’s jaw shifts, and she unhooks her fingers from where they’d been holding Rook’s mouth open, placing the hand back on Rook’s hips. The digits are hot and slippery with saliva as they hold onto the bare skin.
"No, just you—" Rook pants into Neve’s neck, helplessly holding onto the back of her shirt beneath the robes.
Neve brushes her fingers over one of Rook’s nipples, chuckling lowly when she finds it already hard. "And now look at you, making a mess of my leg just because you can’t keep yours closed."
The almost displeased tone in which Neve says it has Rook letting out a desperate whine, one she hides in Neve’s neck with flushed cheeks.
"Please, Neve," she pants against the woman’s throat, letting her teeth drag down the side of it. "Please, I need to—oh, fuck."
Neve shushes her again before Rook can go on and toys with her nipple, pinching the sensitive bud and rolling it between her fingers.
Tension threatens to snap in Rook’s body as she rocks her hips faster, feeling herself start to shake. She’s so fucking close it hurts.
"Look at me when you come," Neve snaps when she feels Rook shiver against her. "I want to see you lose your mind, Trouble."
Rook looks up at the taller woman with parted lips and hooded eyes, brows furrowed as she chases after her orgasm.
With an unwavering gaze, Neve takes Rook’s nipple between two nails and pulls, and the saccharine white-hot pain finally has Rook tumbling over the edge.
The intensity of it is utterly unexpected, and Rook chokes out a too-loud moan before Neve pulls her down into her neck again, where Rook continues whimpering against the skin, mumbling a mix of please and Neve.
"Shh, it’s alright, I’m here with you," the woman coos as Rook rides out her climax, clinging onto Neve and sobbing into the crook of her neck. With one last nudge of her thigh, she coaxes out another wave of Rook’s orgasm, pinching the nipple between her fingers again. "Take what you need."
Rook comes down slowly, her panting turning into steadier breaths as Neve massages the back of her head with a gentle, grounding touch.
"Hey, you with me, sweetheart?" Neve asks, nudging Rook’s chin up and tracing a thumb over her cheek.
"Always," Rook replies, because even in her post-orgasm haze she will always know the answer to that. "Maker, Neve, what are you doing to me?"
It’s a justified question, really. Because she’d just come hard while grinding on the thigh of Neve fucking Gallus after getting on her knees in some seedy Dock Town alley. She’s gonna have to do some serious soul searching after this.
The answer is probably a pretty simple one, but also one that she doesn’t dare think of, not right now, not while the world falls apart around them.
"I could ask you the same," Neve replies. Something unreadable settles over her gaze for the fraction of a second before an easy smirk makes its way back onto her face.
Rook closes the distance between them, and her hands slide up to cradle Neve’s jaw, her thumb gently brushing over the little dimple next to her smile. She kisses Neve softly, as if she wants to assure her that they have all the time in the world—it’s not hard, conveying that feeling. Not when it’s exactly what she so often feels when they share moments like this.
After their lips part, Rook untangles their legs with a chuckle and crouches down to help Neve back into her pants.
Neve grimaces as she steps back into her boot. "I get what you mean now about wet socks."
Rook laughs as she buttons Neve’s pants, swatting away the woman’s hands when she tries to help. "No, no. Let me."
"Such generosity," Neve replies and lets Rook do her work. She leans against the wall with crossed arms while she watches. "I could get used to this."
"I was on my knees eating you out a few minutes ago. I’ve been very generous, I think." Rook closes the last button and pats Neve’s hip playfully.
"Touché."
"You know, you told me that your cases always go sideways, somehow," Rook says, tugging her own trousers into place and tightening the belts on her top. "Would you consider this one of them?"
Neve snorts and pulls her hair back into a bun. It ends up a little messier this time, with a few damp strands sticking out and framing her face, but if anything, it makes Rook smile wider. "Oh, for sure. This one might be in the top three, actually."
Rook gasps and clutches her chest. It’s not even fully exaggerated. "Top three? This ranking seems criminally unfair."
"Fine, I’ll give you a chance to make me reconsider."
"You will?" Rook asks with an arched brow, knowing damn well she’s running straight into a trap. "How so?"
Neve’s grin widens, all teeth and trouble. "I’ll let you know in the bath after."