Title: Uncomfortable Attractions
Author: Jakia
Word Count: 1297
Prompt: As we all know, Isabela loves starting random sex conversations that make many around her uncomfortable. I want to see her bringing up the topic of who is secretly attracted to whom (during a time when all group members are gathered) and then get the most unlikely results with everyone marveling at their friends' strange tastes and reasons.
Pairings: various and silly. Female warrior Hawke and friends.
Warnings: T+ for talking about sex/general perviness/drunk people/Firefly references
A/N: Another fill for the kink_meme. This one literarally has absolutely no porn in it, though, so I don't feel guilty about it. It's mostly just humor, and cracky humor at that.

The Hawke I used for this happens to be a huge prude, which made writing this even funnier.


Ebony Hawke had the world's biggest crush on Knight-Captain Cullen.

Isabela knew this. Isabela knew this because Isabela considered Ebony her rival, and one did not become rivals with the infamous pirate queen without her learning every last one of your dirty little secrets. In some ways, Isabela was Ebony's closest friend. The two were rarely out of each other's company (Isabela, because Ebony did not trust the pirate to be off on her own; Ebony, because Isabela enjoyed making her friend blush) and as such, knew more about each other than anyone else did.

And if Isabela knew anything, it was that Hawke needed to get laid. And since Choirboy (who Ebony had goo-goo eyes for since the moment he opened his mouth and that beautiful Starkhaven accent came out) wasn't likely to put out any time soon, that left the Knight-Captain.

The first step, of course, was getting her to admit it.

"I'm just saying, you can't help who you're attracted to," Isabela slammed her mug of ale against the rickety table in the Hanged Man, where Hawke and her associates were gathered. "It's nothing to be ashamed about."

"I'm not ashamed," Hawke complained, stirring her drink (which was sissy and girly and unlikely to get anyone drunk, much less a woman with as much muscle-mass as Hawke did) bitterly, her face flushed. "And I'm not attracted to him." She added as an afterthought.

"Liar. I'm attracted to the Knight-Captain. You ought to be, too."

Hawke snorted. "Going by that logic, I must want to have sex with everyone in Kirkwall!"

"Not everyone," Isabela countered. "I am distinctly not attracted to Varric. No offense."

The dwarf grinned. "Coming from you, Riviani, I'm more relieved than anything."

Isabela hit Hawke playfully in the shoulder. "Come off it. Everyone has that one person they're uncomfortably attracted to. Who is it?"

"Orana."

Hawke spat out her drink. "Merrill!"

The elf blinked, color rushing to her face. "Oh, I'm sorry. You weren't talking to me, were you? I feel silly now."

Hawke starred at her incredulously. "You're attracted to Orana? My maid?"

"If you take sexual advantage of her, you are going to burn in a special level of the Fade," Fenris threatened, setting his drink down to let everyone know how very serious he was. "The level they reserve for child molesters and people who talk in theaters. And blood mages."

"Too late, then," Anders smirked, taking another shot of whatever strong liquor Varric had on the table. "And Greagoir for me, if we're playing."

Hawke blinked. "Who's that?"

"The Knight-Commander of the Ferelden Circle."

Hawke gasped. "You were attracted to a Templar?"

Anders nodded. "I've been attracted to several. Trust me, I know how awful that sounds." He groaned before pouring himself another shot. "And I don't blame you, Hawke. I'd do the Knight-Captain, and he's the bloody Knight-Captain."

"How drunk are you, Anders?" Hawke asked, slightly concerned as Anders downed another shot.

Anders grinned at her, tipsy. "As drunk as Justice will let me. Another drink, my friends!"

Isabela laughed. "Oooh, this is fun! Let's all play! Aveline, it's your turn: who are you uncomfortably attracted to?"

The captain growled. "No one. Next."

"Oh, don't be so frumpy! Play with us!" Isabela whined.

"I said no. Move on."

"Fine, be a grump. Varric!" Isabela called, slapping her hand on Varric's back. "Your turn!"

The dwarf looked shyly to his left, where Merrill sat giggling uncontrollably. "I'd rather not, Riviani."

"Oh come on! It's not fun if not everyone plays!"

"Alright," he paused, taking a sip of his ale, deep in thought. "I guess I always was rather uncomfortably attracted to Bethany."

Hawke looked like she was going to have a hernia. "My sister? You're attracted to my baby sister?" Hawke pounded the table angrily. "I will hurt you, dwarf."

"Hey! I never acted on it!" Varric defended himself hastily. "I just…always thought she was rather pretty, that's all."

"And I'm not?" Hawke complained, sagging against the table in disappointment.

"I'm so sorry, precious." Varric cooed, patting her gently. "It's nothing against you, personally. You just aren't my type. In fact, you're practically the opposite of my type."

"What do you mean?"

"You're the type that can kill me with very little effort. I'm definitely not attracted to that sort."

Hawke pouted into her drink. "I'm surrounded by perverts and mean dwarves. I wanna go back to Ferelden—everything made sense there."

"Speaking of foreigners," Isabela taunted lightly. "I'll tell you who I was attracted to: the Arishok."

Hawke merely blinks. "You…Isabela, he wanted to kill you."

"Oh, I know. It's awful, isn't it?" The pirate laughed. "And yet, those horns….mmmm." Oh, the things she could do to a man like that…

"I always thought Meredith was rather pretty."

"Aveline." Hawke gasped.

"Don't tell Donnic." Aveline winked at her. "He'd never let me live it down. Besides, isn't this supposed to be the people you're uncomfortable admitting you're attracted to? Because I'm uncomfortably about it."

Isabela nodded. "Yes, yes it is. And that means it's your turn, sweets."

Hawke's face flushed scarlet. "I—o-okay. I'm attracted to Sebastian—"

"BOO!" Anders hollered. "That's obvious! Pick another one!"

"A-alright," Hawke muttered softly, so that no one could possibly hear her. "Isabela, then."

Isabela blinked. "What was that? I don't think I heard you right, sweetie."

Fenris coughed, looking at his wine glass softly. "I've had that dream. Sebastian is on top, Isabela is on the bottom, and I'm in the middle. And it's just—" he mushed his hands together in an awkward, half-drunk fashion. "It's fantastic."

Maybe he misheard Hawke, too? "Why Fenris, why didn't you say anything?" She slid a hand up his thigh. "I could have been helping you out months ago."

He blushed, and Isabela couldn't tell if it was from the alcohol or from where her hand was.

("Fine, just ignore me. That's alright. I didn't want to play your stupid game anyway." Hawke pouted, downing the rest of her girly little drink. "Hey Anders, pour me a shot of whatever you're having! It looks good.")

"Oooh, I thought of another one!" Merrill giggled. "Gascard de—de Puissy!"

Only the way she said it made it sound like pussy, which was even funnier.

"Merrill!" Hawke exclaimed. "The blood mage? Really?"

"Hawke's mother." Anders offered suddenly, grabbing the warrioress's attention.

"What?"

"Ooh, I second that," Varric chimed in. "Hawke's mom is a fox. I'd tap that."

Hawke glowed. "You are already on thin ice with the sister comment, dwarf. I'd watch it if I were you."

"Third." Said Aveline, blushing into her mug. Hawke couldn't even say anything, she felt so betrayed.

"Fourthed!" Isabela cackled, crawling onto Fenris's lap. He didn't push her off. "We're all hot for Hawke's mom!"

"I hate you all," Hawke declared suddenly. "You're terrible people. I'm—I'm going to the Chantry. To pray."

"Have fun with Choirboy!" Isabela called out as Hawke stormed off. "See if he can't relieve you of your whole I'm-a-virgin problem!"

"Fuck you, Isabela!" Hawke screamed, slamming the door to the Hanged Man as she stumbled out. Isabela couldn't help but laugh, loudly.


The next morning, none of them could stand to look at each other, deeply ashamed about their drunken confessions.

Hawke remembered, however. And Hawke had enough blackmail material to make each of them her bitch a thousand times over.

Well played, my friend. Isabela mused as she cursed her hangover, following Ebony's swaying form through Hightown. Well played, indeed.


END

A/N: I'm half tempted to write a sequel where a half-drunk Hawke goes to the Chantry and tries to pounce on Sebastian. Thoughts?