bakerstreet | Drink Me

The Aphrodisiacs Drink Meme

Welcome to the drinks meme! Use RNG or pick a drink that catches your fancy. Effects are coupled, so the more the merrier (and kinkier)! All drinks include powerful aphrodisiacs and the bar features handy private rooms stocked with everything your fantasies require.

1. red - juicy red apple spiced with cinnamon and nutmeg. effect: extreme, sudden arousal. You need someone, anyone, and you needed them yesterday.

2. orange - fresh orange juice with vanilla-laced champagne. effect: voyeurism. who cares who's watching? you want it right here and now. Or maybe you're the one who's into watching?

3. yellow - sweet and sour lemonade topped with meringue. effect: violence. angry hatesex can be more fun that it sounds...

4. green - lime sparkler with coconut and green tea flavors. effect: jealousy/yandere. You'll crave your partner desperately, and no one else can have them.

5. blue - crushed blueberry puree, vodka and soda. effect: domination. You'll have the urge to beat someone into submission. Make them the dog they really are.

6. purple - crushed blackberry puree, vodka and soda. effect: submission. You'll submit to any demands, and pain becomes the greatest pleasure. Who knew bleeding could feel so good?

7. pink - sweet sparkling champagne with strawberries. effect: loving. Your coupling will be adoring and loving. Onlookers will puke from the sweetness.

8. black - licorice and chocolate liqueurs. effect: The strongest of them all. There's no fighting the urge to fuck after drinking this. Even the most stoic of people can't resist this drink.

9. brown - coffee with hazelnut and cream. effect: energizing. You'll want to go all night, nothing can stop you. Multiple orgasms are nothing.

10. white - frozen coconut with jelly balls. effect: extreme bondage. You'll be frozen in place and desperate to be bound.

11. grey - earl grey tea with honey. effect: genderswap. Not the prettiest of drinks, but it will make you into the prettiest (or most handsome) belle of the bar. Just a sip gives the unbearable urge to crossdress.

meme written by

spoilering

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Something comfortable if irregular. Natasha would be the first to admit that that's the part that keeps this going. That if it was something they kept with them all the time, came home to each other and slept in each other's beds, then that would be where it gets too much. Natasha wouldn't know how to be that. But she does know how to be this, how to be what Clint needs and what they need from each other in their little times in-between missions.

She doesn't love him, but she does love him in her own way. Maybe that's enough.

Natasha smiles clearly this time; finds herself wanting to touch that sliver of skin. Later, she thinks, and gently cups the back of his neck, urging him up. "Then come up here so I can convince you."

It is enough, though he wouldn't have admitted it. They are what the other needs when things fall apart to their worst. They have no idea how tested that will be, someday.

"As you command," he says jokingly. Clint lets her urge draw him up, folding his legs under him and coming up, his own hand coming up to touch her cheek as he leans in to kiss her.

(Later, a lot later, when his eyes have stopped being blue and Natasha can breathe again, she won't know what to say. She won't know what to do. It'll be tough, and someone they love will die, and-- And it'll be tough. It always is.)

She's smiling when he kisses her, though she's quick to melt into it. The hand stays there, curled around his neck, and even though it was more of a joke there's something appealing about the sentiment. Natasha thinks of adrenaline and alcohol; it has to be, because she's not the type to do this in a decontamination suite.

"I expect," she murmurs between kisses, her brow arching at him. "Full participation, Barton. No rewards for half-answers."

(They'll survive - because that's what they always do. They'll keep fighting and afterward, maybe Natasha will hold him through the guilt and nightmares of having betrayed his allies, friends, and the people closest to him.)

Maybe without the drink in him, he would have noticed a little more easily that no, Natasha isn't. Or more like, he would have actually acted on the brief surprise he felt moments before. He laughs quietly at her words, thinking of them in play, and murmurs against her lips. "Mmm, punishment for no answers?" Playful, simple.

"Punishment for no participation," she corrects, though the way Natasha acts is a little different, a little looser. She presses a kiss to his jaw, lets her hand curl around his shoulder in a way that's firmer than she usually would, tilting her chin so her mouth can angle against his in a way that fits better.

Then, suddenly as anything, Natasha smiles a little too sharp. "Unless you want that to be the main attraction."

Clint is getting into it, his head tilting to allow her mouth better access, eyes half closing as his hands come to her hips, playing over the curves.

Then she drops that bombshell and he pauses, physically and mentally, before pulling his head back with a questioning expression. "...main attraction?"

They've gone down that direction a little over the years, but never called it anything. When they needed something less gentle and the other could give it. They could surrender but it's never completely; they always have fight in them.

"Would you like to?" Times like this, Natasha likes to ask -- likes to turn her training off and rely on the fact that it's Clint, and there's nothing here to be afraid of. Her thumb shifts, running over the cut of his jaw, her smile soft but promising too. And it's not Natasha if what she's promising isn't dangerous.

"Maybe it's the adrenaline, but I want-" She stops, briefly shaking her head, like she needs the physical tic to stop herself. Her thumb pulls at his lower lip. "I want to make you mine. Just for now."

His lip shifts down just enough to catch her thumb, pulling it into his mouth and sucking gently on it. I want to make you mine. Those words do terrible, wonderful things to him, making them less the threat they could be because blood pools south and his body responds for him.

"Whatever you need," he says to her, fingers tightening on her hips.

Her expression shifts, something a little more coy about it. She leans in, close enough that their lips almost fit together, murmuring soft and quiet as her hands reach for the hem of his shirt.

It's not about need, really, just a base kind of want, though when it comes to Clint maybe that means it's a need, too. "I'd use you however I want, in every way."

Clint would have said that somewhere buried in this, it was a need as much as a want. They both need their releases every so often, and it needs to be with someone they trust enough to make it happen.

Natasha's words go right through to his groin, sending sparks that make him twitch below. He lets her go for his shirt, body lean and long, while he licks his lips and says, "you've got me for forty-eight hours, 'Tash." Permission, though he had no idea just how far it would go.

"Good." She skims her fingers up his sides, mapping out the plane of his chest, over muscle and the cut of his hip. There are scars there, some of which she's sure she's given him, some that he took for her, some that she was too late to take -- it happens. It's like a timeline, reaching back into the past to relive every bloody moment.

Shifting around, she gently places her hands on his chest, pushing him down onto the couch, settling into his lap a little too snug to be by accident, the apex of his hips catching against the button of his fly. "Then I better get started."

Not that she carried any less scars, for the same reasons, for years beyond his understanding. Natasha carried secrets in a deep well not even he knew the depths of, scars made long before he was born even though everything told him that she was younger than he.

But none of it matters right now; they had survived the mission, and both had a goal in mind right now that had nothing to do with their past or future, just a present between them. The pressure of her body against him forces a groan from between his lips, his hands folding behind his head for a moment with a playful smirk on his lips. "What will you have me do?"

It's not often she matches it, that free-falling playfulness. She lifts her hand, slipping two fingers past his lips and into his mouth, eventually trailing them down his bottom lip, his neck, his chest. All the while she smiles at him, leaning closer. Natasha doesn't always bother with the pretense -- sometimes the sex is too rushed and too hurried and too intense for it, no more room in their lives for something light-hearted. But right now, for some reason, feels- it feels important. It's what she wants.

"I was thinking it was more about what you wouldn't do," she murmurs, her hands reaching to pop open the button, skimming her nails down his navel. "Like stay still. And don't move."

This bit of playfulness is highly encouraging, shown by the pulse where their bodies meet, the smile staying on his lips as his hands shift to remain permanent. "And what if I don't?" he challenges, responding as ordered for now, however.

Drink Me

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I totally ship the hell out of all three of them. :3

yesss me too! ot3 ):

I have the most amazing pic of that. Hold onto thy panties. http://oi44.tinypic.com/n1pe13.jpg

omfg YES. :3

This one too. XD http://oi41.tinypic.com/ejskdz.jpg

LMAO that is so ic fml

I collect way too much fanart XD

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