Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed

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Assassin's Creed Kink Meme
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Welcome to the Animus 2.5

✠ Comment anonymously with a character/pairing and a kink/prompt.

✠ Comment is filled by another anonymous with fanfiction/art/or any other appropriate medium.

✠ One request per post, but fill the request as much as you want.

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List of Kinks
(Livejorunal) Archive
#2 (Livejournal) Archive
(Delicious.com) Archive
(Dreamwidth) Archive <- Currently active
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
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Hell Night 1/2

[(Anonymous)]

I got places to be, but this wouldn't stop till I was done! Hope this is close to what you wanted OP!

~

It'd been one hell of a night already and Desmond hated that it was only half over.

Halloween was bad enough on it's own, something about the day just made people loose their damn minds the second they put a costume on. The place was packed and the bar almost literally crushed by a mass of people demanding drinks. An ambulance had already swung by the bar once for an idiot who took his monkey costume too literally, and the owner had to call the police twice. Once for a couple of college kids fighting over a French Maid. The second time for a guy in a fireman outfit trying to set one of the fake palm trees on fire.

The only upside to the night were the tips. He'd already made enough to put in a down-payment on that bike he'd been eying. If he gave in and pulled an extra shift like the owner wanted him to he'd probably be able to pay it all off in cash by the end of the month. All he had to do was power through the rest of the night without accidentally hurting any of the pushy patrons.

Desmond worked as fast as he could while trying not to bump into the other three bartenders. The space was tight and Desmond wasn't spinning bottles so much as avoiding Erik's feet and dodging Ben's elbows. It was the only way they could hope to keep up with the demand. He served beer, cocktails, and straight drinks to a crowd that was growing increasingly less coherent as the night wore on. He made change, kept tips, and did his damnedest to translate drunk demands as he counted down the minutes.

He almost breathed a sigh of relief when the crowd began to thin. One of the rare lulls that'd been sporadic through the night. The costumed masses taking to the streets for some cool air that couldn't be found in the stuffy bar. He almost thought that the rest of the night would be a little bearable, that overtime wouldn't be so bad after all.

But then two different groups of women claimed the section of the bar Desmond was tending and stared demanding service.

A divorce party and a bachelorette party walk into a bar... Desmond forced a smile as he served up Sex Machines and Ball Crushers to the already buzzed women. Instinct gained from five years of tending bars screaming that this would not end well. He'd learned early on in his career that there was nothing more unmanageable than a group of women high on their own sex appeal and out to get drunk while having a hell of a good time doing it.

Having to serve two groups of them on the wildest night of the year was a disaster just waiting to happen.

It started out alright. Sex Drives, Screw Yous, Wild Sex, and Grounds for Divorce were requested in a steady flow as the two groups acknowledged the other. A friendly competition to get the most outlandish drink started up as the Bride-To-Be and the Ex-To-Be laughed and traded men jokes that made Desmond want to cringe and keep his sensitive bits as far from them as possible.

Desmond discretely "lost" a card with the number of one of the Bachelorettes, and was trying to get one of the Divorcees to keep her hands on the bar and off of him when the shit hit the fan.

"Louis Weir!?"