Original prompt from the Dragon Age Kink Meme (anonymous prompter):
It's no secret that Isabela likes dirty books (and has a tendency to pass them on to Bethany). This anon would love to see F!Hawke seeing Isabela completely engrossed in a book and finding it unbelievably sexy. Cue F!Hawke trying to steal Isabela away from the world of imagination for some real world sexings.
Bonus if:
- Isabela is actually more interested in the book at first, even pushes Hawke away a few times because she's 'getting to the good part'.
- F!Hawke reading the dirty passages out loud in an attempt to get Isabela's attention and/or turn her on.
- The book has pictures!
- They read the rest of the book together after the tumble.
A Bedtime Story
Prologue – A Limerick:
My pirate was reading in bed
when I spoke to her softly, and said:
"To plow through that writing
seems hardly exciting –
let's look at the pictures, instead."
Marian was getting a little concerned. It was already hours past sunset, and Isabela still hadn't shown up at the mansion. Such occurrences were not uncommon; whenever she wondered if the Rivaini might finally be settling into the routine of their relationship, there were moments like this – hesitations, missed appointments, changes of course – that hinted at doubts lurking just beneath the woman's otherwise eager surface.
As she made her way to the upstairs hallway of the Hanged Man, she was relieved to see the friendly glow of lamplight spilling out from underneath the crack of Isabela's door. Her knocks went unanswered, however, so she tried the knob, and found it unlocked.
Anxiously, she peered inside… and was stunned by what she saw in front of her.
Isabela was sitting on her bed, reading... wearing only a loose, long nightshirt, and... a pair of spectacles?
It would have been an adorable sight, if she weren't already so peeved at the woman.
"You silly twit! I was worried sick about you!"
"Mmm… Hmm..." Isabela was staring intently into the small, leather-bound book in her hands. Her long dark hair was loose and unkempt, gently framing the dusky oval of her face. Absorbed in concentration, with the lamplight glinting upon her lenses, she was almost unrecognizable.
But still irresistibly Isabela, Marian thought to herself. If anything, her meditative look made her even more desirable; it was a tantalizing glimpse of another side of the carefree and swaggering personality that she had already fallen in love with.
"Did you get those from Lirene's? They do flatter you." She'd never known Isabela to need reading glasses before… but then again, she couldn't exactly remember ever seeing her read. Perhaps a lifetime at sea, staring towards the horizon and into bright sunlight, had impaired her vision for such things.
"What? Oh…" The Rivaini kept reading as her voice trailed off, leaving the compliment unanswered.
"Love! Are you even listening to me?" Marian came forward to sit upon the foot of the bed, her cheeks starting to burn.
"Yes, just… let me finish this juicy bit, here... and then you can have your way with me, promise."
The words normally would have made Marian melt… if Isabela hadn't spoken them into the blasted book. She made up her mind: if the Rivaini didn't acknowledge her soon, she was going to tackle her where she sat.
"You're being awfully rude, you know."
Isabela closed the book and looked up, at last making eye contact. "Right. I apologize."
Marian sighed, and straightened a bit, rubbing her face. It was past her bedtime, and she realized she was getting cranky. "I didn't mean to be short, just… what is it that's holding your attention so much? Can you share it with me?
"This? It's, um…. a trashy novel… a romance novel. You know, silly girl stuff, that sort of thing. Nothing more." Isabela was clearly hiding something. What could a woman like her possibly be ashamed of? Marian's interest was piqued even further.
"I had absolutely no idea you enjoyed reading so much."
"Well, what better way to entertain yourself in a cramped cabin at sea, in the long hours between shifts?" She sat up and finally smiled, pushing the glasses back up onto her nose. For a brief moment, as a dreamy expression crossed her bespectacled face, Isabela reminded Marian of a schoolgirl – albeit an incredibly ravishing schoolgirl. "The Travels of Genitivi… Histories of Tevinter and Arlathan… The Adventures of the Black Fox… anything that transports me to another time and place. What about you?"
"Oh, my magical studies ruined books for me, sadly. After spending so many hours deep in my spellbooks, eventually I'd just have to get out of the house."
"Ah, well… pity, that." Isabela shrugged and dove back into the book.
Damn, wrong response, Marian thought to herself. She was losing the woman's attention again. But then, an idea flashed into her mind.
"Read some of it to me."
"Pardon?"
"You heard me. Read me a passage or two." Marian leaned forward upon her elbows on the bed, face in hands.
"Alright, hmm... well, it's about ... uhh… two women, both lovers… White Sand… and, umm… Black Cloud."
"Lovely! Do continue."
Isabela cleared her throat. "White Sand… fondled her lover's beautifully chiseled foot, massaging it gently, as if it were… a small and cuddly animal."
Marian reached forward to take Isabela's foot in her hands, taking a moment to admire the fanciful blue polish upon the woman's toenails. Wiping away some grime, she kneaded the thick skin of the sole, working from the toes on over to the heel. The rough, callused flesh seemed to soften beneath her fingers as she rubbed it.
She closed her eyes, and used the deliberate motion of her hands and fingers to send a clear signal to the Rivaini through her foot: Put the book down, and you can have more of this.
Isabela warmed immediately to the game; she seemed to struggle with her words as she read further. "Ahh… hmm… bending down, she kissed the foot passionately, and then sucked on Black Cloud's toe, like a piece of sugar candy."
Sugar candy? "Oh my, what a... poetic image." Marian followed the Rivaini's instructions, cradling the woman's foot and toes with both hands, kissing the pads gently before taking the biggest toe into her mouth. The smell of Isabela's body was more intense here, in the sweat accumulated between each digit. Marian inhaled deeply, savoring their musk as she sucked each one in turn, her thumbs and fingers still caressing the arch.
As the story continued, she moved to the other foot, insistently continuing her entreaty with touches and kisses. When was the woman going to break?
"…then White Sand… ohh… yes! ahh… uhh… she stroked Black Cloud's amazingly long and perfect calves and thighs."
"Done, and done." Marian crept forward upon the bed, using her fingers to trace the firmly toned curves of Isabela's legs – to her, incidentally, the woman's most under-appreciated feature.
Every one else gets to enjoy your breasts and your arse, thanks to that "clothing" you wear… but these bootless beauties are mine, and mine alone... She played lazily upon the woman's darkly muscled flesh, admiring the graceful melting of calf into thigh, and thigh into...
"and then… umm, as Black Cloud moaned very noisily… White Sand tore off her smalls, finding at last the magnificent treasure that lay within."
Marian flinched at the words. The writing was absolutely terrible; no wonder the woman seemed so embarrassed to read it aloud. At least they were now getting somewhere interesting. Hopefully she would be able to get Isabela's thoughts off of the book, and back onto more... Marian-related matters.
She advanced towards Isabela's hips, already tasting the Rivaini's warm, slick puddle upon her tongue – but then she looked up at the book, and saw the title on the spine.
The writing was in Orlesian.
She was pretty sure that Isabela didn't know how to read Orlesian.
With a quick motion, she swiped the book from her and jumped back off of the bed, retreating into a far corner of the room.
"Hey! Give that back!"
Marian opened the book in front of her, and nearly dropped it in surprise.
The pages contained nothing but pictures – a series of intricately detailed illustrations of two women entwined in various poses and acts. To make it clear to the reader where one woman ended and the other began – as well as who was doing what to whom – the women's outlines were drawn either in white, or black. The first picture in the book depicted the simple act of toe-sucking; they became gradually more… involved, after that.
She flipped through the pages quickly. Except for the sequential numbers beneath each illustration – and some illegible Orlesian scribbling within the margins – there was absolutely no writing at all to be found within the book.
"Isabela, this is…"
"…an Orlesian sex manual."
"…and you got it from…"
"Pinched it from Chateau Haine." She beamed proudly.
Marian closed the book. "So… all that about loving the printed word, traveling to other realms through reading…"
"Oh, that's all definitely true, I swear. But tonight, well…" A mischievous look spread across her face. "I just wanted some… inspiration, before our evening together."
"What? But when I came in..."
"...I did make you work for it, yes." Isabela couldn't hold back her smile anymore. "Terribly wicked of me, I know. But I couldn't resist! It was so adorable to see you steaming... and you did figure it out quickly enough."
Marian shook her head, laughing. The woman was absolutely naughty. How could she ever hope to keep up with her?
"Well, Black Cloud, it's my turn now, to read to you for a bit."
"Absolutely, White Sand."
Marian came back to sit down on the bed next to Isabela. She set the book down, and began flipping through it with a hand.
"Ahem. Number Two."
She kissed Isabela on the knees, using her free hand to stroke the woman's thighs.
"Oh, very nice."
"Number Three."
Marian laughed, and reached up to cradle the other woman's face in her hands as she kissed it. With her little finger, she felt the pulse in Isabela's neck bounding with anticipation.
"Number Five."
"You skipped a-" Isabela's protest was silenced by a kiss.
"Shh... Number Four looks like something we should save for later... silly Orlesians." She kissed Isabela upon the neck, and trailed her lips downward towards the warm cleft of the woman's breasts. Her hand moved to curl around the small of Isabela's back.
"Mmm... Five... Six... Seven..."
Isabela grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back slightly.
"Blast it, you win... skip ahead, already!"
The women laughed together, and Marian slid her soft hands up under Isabela's loose nightshirt, cupping the Rivaini's large breasts from below.
"Alright... I think this will be... oh, let's say Numbers Ten through Twenty."
In response, Isabela closed her eyes, and placed her own hands upon the front of the shirt, clasping Marian's hands close to her, through the thin fabric.
"I think I'm starting to like this bedtime story." The Rivaini sat in thrall before her, dark and beautiful in the lamplight, waiting impatiently for her to make the next move.
As the ardor rose within her, Marian leaned close to whisper into Isabela's ear.
"Leave the glasses on," she said.
Morning crept in through the windows of the Hanged Man, warming Isabela's cozy bed with the soft light of the new day.
Marian awoke beneath a slender, brown arm, a familiar pair of amber eyes already open and shining at her. The spectacles were long gone, lost quickly in the frenzy of last night's exercises.
Contented, she snuggled closely into her lover's body, savoring the embrace as if it were a steaming bath. On lazy mornings like this, she desperately wanted to possess the woman - to grasp her, and hold her fast, never letting go.
But always, Isabela would begin to recede again, to create just enough space for herself between them. Though at least nowadays, it was with a wisecrack or a flippant remark, and not an I-need-to-be-going-right-now.
Isabela found the book, and started looking through it again.
"I just knew that the pictures would make more sense… once viewed between a different set of covers…"
Marian said nothing in reply, only smiling gently at the Rivaini's not-quite-nervous chatter.
The women went through the book again together, reliving their night through its illustrations.
"Fifty-four... that will need some practice."
"Aye, a book in itself, that one. What did you think of Seventy-Three?"
"Oh, to be honest, I don't remember too much of anything after Sixty-Nine..."
Isabela laughed. "All in all, not a bad bit of work, really. My only critique would be that Number One-Hundred was somewhat... anti-climactic."
Marian closed the book, and gave her a long, wet kiss, before withdrawing to speak again.
"We'll just have to write our own ending, then."
Fin