AN: bratty!Isabela/dom!Hawke, as requested. Sorry about the delay - happy Oneshot Wednesday!

Warnings: Magic strap-ons, spanking, and light bondage, but surprisingly no dirty talk/humiliation in this one. :D If any of my artist fans love me, I'd adore a scribble of the climax of this story, so to speak. Something about the position I put them in is very appealing to visualize. I'll bribe you by writing you any smut you want.

. . .

A Lesson In Good Behavior

. . .

Isabela felt Hawke step into The Hanged Man before she saw her. Something about her aura always commanded the room, and tonight was no exception. Heads turned, and murmurs of surprise floated over from the nearby tables. She did not look up. Instead, she smiled softly to herself and stared down into her mug of ale.

"Rivaini? You all right?"

The sound of Varric's voice coaxed her to look up past her lashes, although her gaze did not stray over toward the door. "Of course. Why?"

"You're quiet." Varric narrowed his eyes at her, obviously suspicious. "Too quiet. And you're not drunk, even though you've been here for hours."

The edges of her smile pulled even wider. "Not that long. I had time to pay Aveline a visit earlier…"

"And then there's the fact that you're refusing to look at Hawke, even though she just walked in. You really expect me to believe nothing's out of the ordinary?"

"I never said things were ordinary." Isabela took one last sip of ale before setting the mug aside. It wasn't worth finishing unless she actually wanted to get drunk. The drinks at the Hanged Man were only a step above piss on a good day. "I just said I was all right. In fact, I'm in a good mood tonight."

Varric glanced past her, toward the edge of the bar where she sensed Hawke was standing. Probably with a cross look, if her memories were accurate. After a moment, he looked back at her and laughed. "So, what did you do to piss her off this time?"

"Your mistake is assuming it was only one thing." Isabela felt Hawke's gaze burning into the back of her neck, but she refused to turn and look. The longer she kept Hawke waiting, the more satisfying the results would be. Her pulse picked up speed, and her breathing grew a little heavier. "The more often I do this, the harder I have to work to really make her angry."

"And you want to make Hawke angry because?"

Isabela shifted on the barstool, leaning forward as though to whisper a secret. "You writers are perceptive types, aren't you? Don't tell me you can't guess."

"Fair enough." Varric reached for the ale she had abandoned. "I guess that means you aren't going to finish this? Seems a shame to waste it, even if it does taste like the wrong end of a nug." When she nodded, he pulled the mug across the bar toward him. "So, is pissing her off worth it? I don't know how you do it. I hardly ever see her mad, even when a normal person would be."

Isabela smirked. "It's not hard. I know her too well." Her ears caught footsteps approaching from behind, and the sound sent a shiver zipping down her spine. She hid her anticipation as best she could, facing resolutely forward to continue her conversation. "And as to whether it's worth it? Always. I'd tell you more, but none of your readers would believe it."

The sound of a clearing throat intruded, and she finally gave in, casting a careless glance to the side. Hawke was staring down at her, a frown etched into her normally cheerful face. Her arms were folded tight over her chest, and the toe of her boot tapped expectantly against the floorboards. When she spoke, her voice was tight and stiff. "Isabela? Do you want to explain why Merrill has been singing all day?"

Isabela struck a casual pose, folding one knee over the other and leaning against the bar. She chose her expression carefully - calm, but certainly not innocent. "What's the problem? Merrill likes singing."

"Not songs like that," Hawke insisted. She unfolded her arms and planted her hands firmly on her hips, shaking her head in disapproval. "But if you don't want to confess, perhaps you'd like to explain why Fenris won't come out of his mansion? I knocked on the door, but he kept telling me to go away, and all I could hear after that was crashing and banging."

"Oh?" She shrugged. "Maybe he didn't appreciate the cleaning I did."

A sputtering noise came from behind her, and she could tell without looking that Varric had lost a mouthful of her ale. "You actually cleaned that wreck of a place?"

"Don't sound so surprised, Varric. Hawke is always complaining about what a mess his house is. I was just trying to help."

Hawke continued glaring at her. "And why don't I believe you? Oh, maybe it's because Serendipity paid Aveline a visit earlier today. Someone hired her for the night as a 'surprise present'."

"It was a compliment," Isabela said, trying and failing to hide her grin. "Serendipity is the best The Blooming Rose has to offer, and Aveline hasn't loosened her smallclothes in Maker knows how long. I was trying to do her a favor."

"She's married!"

"So?"

Hawke's eyes flashed, and her nostrils flared with anger. "And I won't even get into what you did to poor Anders! He hasn't said a word to me since this morning."

Varric snorted. "Blondie? Not talking? There's a nice change of pace for you."

"This doesn't concern you, Varric. Isabela, come with me. The two of us need to talk. In private."

"Talk. Right." Isabela slid lazily off of the barstool and winked at Varric. "Don't stay too long. The Hanged Man gets a little rowdy this time of night."

Varric gave her a small nod. "See you later, Rivaini. Thanks for the drink."

Before Isabela could say a proper goodbye, Hawke's fingers curled around her elbow. She shot Varric one last grin as she was dragged unceremoniously toward the staircase, resisting the pull just enough to make Hawke's shoulders bunch in frustration. Soon, the noises of the tavern faded, and they were alone on the stairwell. "Don't think I haven't figured out what you're up to," Hawke hissed beside her ear.

Isabela tried her best to look intimidated, but couldn't quite manage it. The warmth of Hawke's breath tickled, and she laughed despite herself. She shook her arm free and untied her bandana, letting her hair fall around her shoulders as she slipped it around her arm. It was too warm to keep it on anyway, but the way Hawke's eyes fixed on her as she shook her hair loose was her real motivation. "I would hope you've figured it out by now," she teased. "We've played this game often enough."

Hawke scowled. "You think this is a game? You don't have to torment other people just to get me to make love to you, Isabela."

Isabela sighed and shook her head, reaching up to stroke Hawke's flushed cheek. It burned under her fingertips, and she made an affectionate clicking sound with her tongue as she gazed up into Hawke's bright eyes. "Oh, Hawke… but I do if I want you to fuck me."

Hawke tensed, and Isabela wondered if she might end up pinned to the wall. She wouldn't have objected - most of her fellow boarders would stay downstairs for several hours more. But instead, Hawke turned away from her and stormed up to the second floor, clenching her fists and stomping hard enough to make the stairs shake beneath her boots. Isabela hurried after her, cheeks still stretched from smiling. Her lover's rare display of anger was promising indeed. Just a little more pushing, and she would get exactly what she wanted.

She caught up with Hawke half way down the hall, a few yards away from the door to her room. Hawke hesitated in front of it, obviously fearing that if she stepped inside, she would be stripped of her defenses. Isabela circled around her, deliberately pressing against her side as she reached for the knob. "I'm only coming in for a minute," Hawke insisted, but the small break in her voice gave her away. "We need to talk about this. I can't keep rewarding you for bad behavior."

Isabela opened the door. Once she stepped inside, she trailed her fingers along Hawke's arm, stroking the material of her shirt. She crept up, past her stiff shoulders and tempting throat to cup the back of her neck. She toyed with the soft, choppy hairs there, massaging the bunched muscles around the knot of Hawke's spine. "Then don't think of it as a reward," she murmured. "Think of it as a punishment. A punishment that happens to be enjoyable for both of us."

"Punishments aren't supposed to be enjoyable, Isabela." Hawke reached out for her hips, only pulling back at the last moment when she noticed what she was doing. "It defeats the purpose."

Isabela took a step back and removed her hand. She could tell Hawke suffered for its absence, because her nostrils flared and she sucked in a quick, hard breath. It would only take one more push. "Then maybe I should go," she said, deliberately swinging her hips as she brushed past Hawke a second time. She paused in the open doorway, brushing one hand gracefully along its frame and glancing back over her shoulder. "Varric's still downstairs. At least he appreciates my company."

The stillness between them snapped. Hawke surged forward, fisting the sash at her waist and yanking her off balance. Isabela barely had time to kick the door shut and catch Hawke's shoulders before her lips were crushed in a bruising kiss. There was no warm-up, no teasing. Hawke's tongue pushed into her mouth, muffling her cries until her lungs burned from lack of air.

She froze, caught between two choices. She could surrender to the press of Hawke's lips and the strength of her hands, or she could continue provoking her. This - Hawke, wild and unrestrained and just a little bit angry - was exactly what she had wanted all along, but she hadn't done much thinking about what would happen after. And it was even harder to think when Hawke was kissing her so fiercely.

While she struggled to decide, Hawke began walking her back toward the bed. Her hands wandered to familiar places, removing the dagger strapped to her thigh as well as the two blades crossed behind her back. Isabela let Hawke take them, making sure they came to no harm as they were tossed onto the floor. She breathed while she had the chance, trying to slow down her thundering heart.

There was nothing else for it. The idea of submitting to Hawke was always appealing, but there was no reason her lover shouldn't work for it first. "Careful with those," she teased, pulling away slightly when Hawke reached for her again. "You chip a blade, it's coin out of your pocket."

Hawke stared at her for a long moment. Her eyes narrowed, and her scar puckered as she wrinkled her nose. It was obvious that Hawke had seen through her motives, but it didn't matter. The results would be the same. Isabela held her gaze just long enough to offer silent reassurance.

It was all the permission Hawke needed.

Isabela barely had time to gasp before Hawke shoved her backwards onto the bed. She bit out a curse, but Hawke's mouth swallowed it, and she had to settle for bunching the sheets in her hands. She wanted to clutch Hawke's shoulders again, but that would be giving in. She needed Hawke to fight for her surrender.

And fight Hawke did, with another hard kiss and the full force of her weight. Isabela found herself pinned to the mattress, unable to move. She tried to squirm free and flip their positions, but Hawke was stronger. The feeling of helplessness only fed her desire. Since she couldn't escape, she hooked one of her knees around Hawke's hip, deliberately grinding their pelvises together. "Stop," Hawke snapped, tearing away from her lips and glaring down at her. "You've been pushing this all evening. Playing games. Now you've left it too long. I'm deciding what we do, and when we do it."

The steel in her voice almost had Isabela batting her lashes and whispering a seductive apology, but she held firm. It would be so much better if she kept Hawke angry. The contrast from her calm, reasonable personality was intoxicating. "Are you? I doubt it," she said, deliberately disobeying orders and rocking her hips up.

Hawke's hands circled her waist, forcing her back down. "Stop, or you won't get anything at all."

Isabela remained silent. She loved pushing the boundaries of Hawke's temper, but she always knew when to stop. She stared up into Hawke's eyes, daring her to continue. Moments later, Hawke twisted her onto her stomach, pulling one of her arms behind her back to make sure she couldn't squirm away. The discomfort was almost pleasant. While her shoulder ached, she couldn't forget that Hawke was controlling her.

Hawke wasted no time stripping her. First her smallclothes, pulled down to the knee. Then her tunic, rucked up hastily over her hips. Hawke did not even bother removing her boots. She obviously wanted access as quickly as possible. But instead of touching her, Hawke pulled away. Isabela remained in position even when Hawke let go, torn between disappointment and hope. If Hawke went for the door, it would mean she had failed. But if she opened the drawer beside the bed...

At last, she heard the sound of the drawer opening, followed by the soft rustling of fabric as Hawke undid her pants. Her heartbeat tripped along faster. Although she couldn't tell without turning to look, she hoped Hawke had chosen the 'special' cock they had stumbled across at the Black Emporium. The surface was smooth and flesh-colored, but she and Hawke had been delighted to discover that it was infused with lyrium runes underneath - runes that gave it several interesting abilities.

Her suspicions were confirmed a moment later. The mattress dipped beneath her, and something warm and smooth pressed against the back of her leg. "Hold still," Hawke said, and Isabela smiled at the desperate edge to her voice. It told her everything she needed to know. The enchanted shaft was designed to share heat and pressure, which gave her a tremendous advantage. It was almost like cheating, but she couldn't quite bring herself to feel guilty about it.

Isabela savored the weight and heat of Hawke's body as it draped over hers. She shifted her knees further apart, lifting her hips to offer a more enticing view. A little warm-up was usually nice, but she had spent the whole day preparing for this, and she wanted Hawke inside of her as soon as possible. "And what happens if I don't?"

The frustrated grunt that came from behind her was all she could have hoped for. Hawke lined up the blunt tip of the cock, and Isabela held her breath. It slipped a little, grazing the bud of her clit and dragging through her wetness, but she held still and waited for Hawke to correct the mistake. She wanted to be filled. Filled until she forgot her own name, and the only thing left in her mind was how good it felt when Hawke took pleasure from her.

Hawke's fingers threaded through her hair, forcing her to arch her back even further. When she answered, her voice was breathless and more than a little eager. Clearly, the enchantment was already doing its job. "Hold still, or you don't get this."

The thick head began to press forward, and Isabela groaned. The stretch was uncomfortable at first, but as soon as she thought about who was kneeling behind her, who was fisting her hair, who was taking her, a surge of wetness eased the way, coating the rest of the shaft. Hawke slid forward without any trouble, burying herself with just a few short thrusts. The flared head caught against her front wall with each push, and she had to bite down on her tongue to muffle a shout.

At last, their thighs met. Hawke held still, waiting for her to adjust, and Isabela sighed. Even when Hawke was in one of her rare moods, she still fell back on her considerate nature. "Well, don't ruin it now," she snapped, rocking her hips back to try and find a rhythm. "Hurry up and fuck me."

"As long as it keeps you quiet for a change." Hawke pulled back, and Isabela shivered, smiling despite the loss. Being empty was torture, but being filled again would more than make up for it.

The first thrust tore a gasp from her throat. She fisted the sheets, struggling to stay upright. The second thrust made all of her muscles tense. She tried to push back, but Hawke held tight to her waist, holding her firmly in place. The third thrust made her arms give out. She collapsed forward onto the mattress, cursing into the covers as Hawke's hips began pumping in earnest.

This. This was exactly where she had wanted to be all along. Face down on the bed, ass in the air, thighs spread as Hawke fucked her. Perhaps she could have simply asked for it, but then, Hawke's movements wouldn't have been as forceful. Her hold wouldn't have been as tight. And her pace wouldn't have been nearly as wild or uncontrolled. Hawke's thrusts were powerful enough to rock the bedframe beneath them, and her grip was solid steel.

Isabela tried to shout Hawke's name, but with her face buried in the sheets, it was impossible. She turned her head just enough to breathe, one cheek still plastered against the mattress. "Hawke!" she managed at last, still struggling for air. As soon as the name fell from her lips, Hawke's palm cracked against the upturned swell of her ass. The noise made her flinch, but the pain barely registered. Once the mild sting of the slap faded, her skin started to tingle, flaring hot under Hawke's hand.

"What happened to being quiet?" Hawke asked, stroking over the tender area.

Isabela bit her lip. Now that she had finally gotten what she wanted, after a considerable amount of effort on her part, she was afraid of losing everything by overstepping the mark. She didn't speak, although her voice did catch on a pleading note as she clutched the covers tighter. It must have worked, because Hawke resumed thrusting. Full, empty, full again… it was all a blur. She held on to the edge of the bed for dear life.

A red mist filled her mind, and soon, she could think of nothing else. Hawke was the only thing that mattered, the only thing strong enough to pierce the fog. She latched on to every detail, clinging to the sensations that passed between them. Hawke's breathing was ragged, uneven, just like the motion of her hips. The taste of salt and desperation still lingered on her tongue from their kiss. The cock inside of her was strained, full. It had only been a few minutes, but Hawke was already fast approaching the point of no return, and she wasn't far behind.

Soon, the friction became too much. Hawke felt good inside her - so good, almost too good - but something about the angle was wrong. Or perhaps right, if Hawke's goal was to torture her. Her desire was rising faster than her ability to climax, and she needed a little extra push. She ripped her right hand away from the mattress, shoving it between her legs. A whimper broke in her throat as soon as she found the slick, swollen point of her clit. She trapped it beneath her fingertips, rubbing in hard, fast circles and praying that Hawke wouldn't stop her.

Her prayers went unanswered. Just as her muscles locked up and her body began to tremble, Hawke stopped moving. Isabela swallowed down a scream, blinking her blurry eyes to banish a few stray tears. The thick shaft of the cock was still half way inside her, just far enough to put pressure against the aching spot along her front wall. One more thrust would have been enough, but Hawke remained perfectly still. She shuddered, pressing even harder to make up for the loss.

"Take your hand away."

"I… I'm not sure I can." It was the truth. No matter what she did with her fingers, she couldn't possibly come like this, but she couldn't bear the thought of removing them either.

Isabela gritted her teeth as Hawke let go of her waist. She knew what was about to happen, but even with time to prepare, she cried out when the flat of Hawke's palm came down. The pain lasted for several seconds before melting into pleasure, and she hissed as Hawke's nails raked up along the back of her thigh. They stopped just below the hot flesh where she imagined Hawke's handprint was already forming. "Take it away. That's my job."

Although she was tempted to disobey and earn herself another slap, Isabela tore her trembling hand away. Before she could reclaim it, Hawke caught her wrist, bringing her arm up behind her back. Isabela couldn't tell what she was doing at first, but then she remembered the bandana that was still bunched around her elbow. She considered resisting when Hawke tugged it free and reached for her other arm, but decided against it. She was too far gone to pretend. Instead, she brought her wrists together and allowed Hawke to bind them. She even stopped herself from testing the knots once Hawke finished.

"Better," Hawke said from behind her, stroking her hip in approval. "See? You can behave when you try. And when you behave, you're more likely to get what you want.

The thrusts started again, filling her so deeply that she couldn't breathe. Hawke drove in and out of her at a frantic pace, and Isabela finally surrendered. She strained against her bindings, pushing back to meet each pump of Hawke's hips in spite of her awkward position. The shaft inside of her began to ripple, swelling as Hawke's movements became more and more erratic. Her muscles squeezed down, fluttering with anticipation. She wanted Hawke's orgasm almost as much as her own.

"Fuck, Isabela…" Rough, calloused fingers slid between her legs, over her clit, moving even faster than her own. Hawke seemed determined to push her over the edge, but somehow, she managed to hold back. The thought of being used for Hawke's pleasure, of earning her release, was too delicious to give up. She wanted to feel Hawke come first.

Even with her wrists tied, Isabela had one weapon left in her arsenal. She turned as best she could on top of the mattress and shot Hawke a searing look over her shoulder. She tugged her lower lip between her teeth, pleading with her eyes as she squeezed her inner muscles as tight as possible. Hawke throbbed in response, pulsing deep within her, and knew she was about to win. "Please?"

That word broke the last of Hawke's resolve. She bucked forward one more time, and Isabela was rewarded for her efforts. The length of the cock twitched, and a rush of warmth spurted from the tip, flooding deep inside of her. She throbbed under Hawke's fingers, but held perfectly still, savoring each burst of heat. Nothing compared to feeling Hawke come inside of her. Nothing ever would compare.

At last, she gave in to her own need. As Hawke continued emptying herself, she tipped over the edge, shivering wildly around the thick shaft splitting her apart. Her orgasm came all at once, gushing out around the base and running down both their thighs. The release of pressure was blissful, and she gasped in relief. Fortunately, Hawke hadn't completely forgotten what she was doing. The fingers on her clit started circling faster, and Isabela wailed as they found the perfect speed to ease her through her contractions.

"Hawke! Oh, please, Hawke…"

Hawke stroked her through the last of her aftershocks, alternating sharp tugs with quick little flicks until she slumped down against the bed. Isabela sighed contentedly, although she made no move to pull away. Hawke was still buried inside of her, but some of the urgency was gone.

"Maybe next time, you should just ask," Hawke murmured. "You have gotten what you wanted faster."

Isabela laughed. "But it's so much more authentic this way. And you can't tell me you don't enjoy it. You like me when I get on your nerves."

Hawke's hand came down again, but the swat was lighter than before, a tease rather than a show of force. She untied the bandana from around her wrists, and Isabela sighed with relief. "One of these days, I'll stop that wicked tongue of yours from getting you into trouble."

"I don't think so." Reluctantly, Isabela shifted forward, pushing herself up on her hands as the cock began slipping out of her. Part of her wanted to keep Hawke buried inside of her forever, but she had other plans. Once she was free of Hawke's grip, she turned around, sitting back on her heels and grinning. She stared deliberately between her lover's legs, eyeing the wet shaft jutting out from between her thighs with unconcealed interested. The entire length glistened, but it was the beaded droplets at the very tip that caught her attention. Her mouth watered. "Besides, I'm sure I can get you to appreciate my tongue better, if you give me the chance…"

Hawke gave her a lopsided smile and flopped back against the pillows, striking an inviting pose and spreading her legs. "Care to prove it?"

Isabela dropped back onto her hands and knees, crawling forward until she was straddling Hawke's waist. She was almost tempted to sink down onto the shaft beneath her, but settled for a kiss. She had had made a promise, after all, and there would be time enough later. She wrapped one of her hands around the firm length of the cock as her lips trailed along Hawke's jaw. "I don't need to prove it, but if you need a reminder, I'm happy to oblige you."