bakerstreet | The Compulsive Truth Telling Meme.

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The Compulsive Truth Telling Meme.

Dignity? Modesty? Propriety? Being able to keep secrets? These things are someone else's problem now that your character has been somehow given a super dose of truth serum. No matter what they do, they cannot help but tell the truth. They are compelled to do it and, by God, nothing's gonna stop. Nothing can stop them.

How to:

→ Post with your character . . . who has just been dosed with the ultimate magical truth serum, blurting out something they would otherwise lie about or keep secret. Maybe they are in the middle of spouting off an unpopular opinion, an embarrassing personal fact or admitting to a favorite sexual position or partner? Run wild the idea. Just . . .
→ DO NOT LEAVE YOUR COMMENT BLANK. It's your character and their secret.
→ Other characters reply with their reactions. Shenanigans ensue!
→ If confronted with a question, your character MUST answer all of them honestly.
→ Have fun and be excellent to each other.

Meme idea taken and modified from previous memes, notably this one from TLH.

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She instantly groaned at the tight embrace, partly because they had no time for good mornings, and party because she was aching all over.

"They're extracting us in twenty minutes. It's going to take me 19 of those minutes to get dressed, get up" Tasha hit him firmly on the chest, open palmed and smirking only slightly at the sound before she was wiggling out of his grasp and up, taking the blanket wrapped around her shoulders with her and leaving him bar ass naked, laughing quietly to herself even though it was strained and through gritted teeth.

"Fucking hell, I need a hot bath" Her muscles had seized up at some point, making her walk look more like a waddle, party because of the mission before hand and partly due to the extra curricular activities afterwards. Not that she'd admit that.

Staggering over to an overly large rucksack, blessing whoever had placed it in the safe house. Pulling items of clothing out, throwing him a pair of jeans, a shirt and the most outrageous pair of boxers in the bag, grinning to him over her shoulder.

"Get dressed Hawk ass."

Clint struggled half-heartedly for a moment, protesting when she hit him, before finally letting her go. If she really wanted to get up, which she seemed to, then he knew he couldn’t stop her. Besides, expediency seemed to be an issue if they only had twenty minutes. Fraternization wasn’t looked upon very favourably at SHIELD. It happened, and if it was casual a blind eye could be turned so long as it didn’t affect their work, but if it was outright discovered there would be protocols to follow.

Folding his hands behind his head even as Natasha stole the blanket, Clint was far from shy, that was for sure, and he watched her openly as she moved about, raising his eyebrows and smirking at how she was walking.

“Looking a little... unsteady there, Romanoff,” he said, choosing a word that was least likely to get him hit, though the implication was still there. Catching the clothing she threw at him, he slowly forced himself to sit up. “Hawk ass? Really?”

Pulling the shirt over his head, he winced slightly as the material slid along his back, catching on the marks left by her nails.

Shoulders stiffened, eyebrow raising even though she kept her back to him, finally finding herself some clothes. "Fuck off Barton" She mumbled, groaning at her unsteady legs. Half tempted to throw something at him, eyes even lingered on a nearby ornament but decided against it, for one it would have hurt and two she didn't fancy stretching that far to get it, considering he muscles were already screaming at her to just lay back down.

She ended up sitting on the floor to pull her underwear up her legs, thankful for a moments rest but wincing against as she dumped the blanket and attempted to stretch to put on a bra, finally giving up and tossing it into the bag. Finally dragging a vest on and laying back to pull jeans slowly up her legs, smirking at his wincing from her position.

"Don't you like it? I found it fitting." She stretched, half rolling onto her front, trying to stop her leg muscles from cramping. "Ask me what my favorite colour is." Black, they both knew she liked black, it was a question she could lie to, a question they both knew the answer to but hell, she was praying that this thing had gone away by now.

“Ooh, touchy. One would almost think you didn’t get enough sleep last night,” he teased her. It was amusing to watch her struggle into the clothing, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the view as she squirmed about, trying to cover up. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he stepped into the boxers before getting to his feet and pulling them up the rest of the way.

“Hey, I can’t blame you for having a fascination with my ass,” he replied, making sure he had his back to her when he bent over to pull the jeans on over his feet. Nothing like giving her a good view, he was accommodating like that. Zipping up the fly and fastening the button, he turned to look back at her, taking a second to click in to the sudden change of topic. For a brief moment he had forgotten what had started all this in the first place.

“What’s your favourite colour?” he obliged, Amusement fading, he regarded her with pure curiosity and anticipation.

Eyes rolled, not even entertaining him with a response although it made the corners of her lips twitch into a smile.

She watched him carefully from her position on the floor, arms folded, chin balanced on them. Even as he bent over doing a reverse strip tease and showing off just how good his ass was she smirked wider, shrugging and wincing at the muscles in her shoulders. "Thanks for the show" She mused softly.

She didn't brace herself for the question, simply waited to see if that urge would rise, she bit her already ruined lip, "Pink". Eyes went wide, smirking to herself before she couldn't help the laugh leaving her lips. "God that felt so good".

“I aim to please,” Clint replied with a wink, gathering his boots and sitting back on the edge of the cot. “Socks?”

He watched her closely after he asked the question, observing how she worried her lip before answering... no, before lying. Whatever that shit was it had finally worn off. He smiled back at her as she laughed, though deep inside he couldn’t help but feel a bit regretful. It was because of the drug that they had been able to break down the walls to be together last night, and despite nothing wanting to abuse it he had to wonder if he should have asked more. He quickly brushed it off, though, because it had been incredible as it was and he had no other regrets. More questions might have ruined everything.

“Guess you got your superpower back,” he joked. “Should make the ride back less stressful.” All they needed was for someone to ask how they made out last night. “Still want me to take the debriefing solo while you get checked out?”

She was far too happy with herself, forgetting about him and the sock situation until she'd finally finished laughing, rolling onto her back with what sounded like a giggle but hell, she was the Widow, she never giggled.

The laugh turned into a groan of pain as she moved to stand slowly, rolling every muscles she could, digging back in the bag to retrieve them both a pair of socks, finally making her way over to the cot to slowly sit beside him.

"Yeah, I need to get the medical done so I can crawl into a hot bath and then into bed" She nodded, handing him his socks, fighting to put her own on. "It feels good, being able to lie, can't believe how much I missed it." She gave a content smile, nudging his shoulder lightly with her own.

"You can have a nice chat with Fury while I soak, then you can come nest down with me. Deal?"

It was almost surreal seeing her almost rolling on the floor with laughter, and any misgivings he had about her regaining her ability to lie were quickly forgotten just seeing her so happy and carefree. It was a sight he didn’t get to see nearly enough.

He didn’t quite get it, though. He’d never been in the situation where he couldn’t lie so maybe he couldn’t comment, but he was a fairly honest person so he didn’t quite understand how anyone could miss it that much. How could anyone truly love lying? He wanted to ask why she had missed it, why it felt good, but for all he knew she would just lie in answer so he kept the questions to himself.

“Just not to me, yeah?” he ventured instead as he took the rolled up socks from her hand. Pulling them on over his feet, he slipped them into his boots before cracking a half smile at her offer. He hadn’t been sure what to expect, he hadn’t known if this was only a one time thing or something they could continue, though he’d obviously hoped for the latter. Okay, so she didn’t state what the invitation entailed, and considering how little sleep they had gotten it was probably only that, but he was okay with that, at least for now. As long as she didn’t push him away he was more than okay.

“Deal,” he agreed, nudging her shoulder back and smiling at her.

Natasha pondered for a minute, finishing with her socks and reaching for one of those deadly boots. "Depends on the context or nature of the question posed". Now that was an honest answer. For instance she would lie about questions asking about her time in the Red Rooms, not that he'd ever pushed her to talk about it and hell most of it she didn't remember (even though Natalia had taken a sick, perverse pleasure in letting Natasha see through Her eyes at crucial moments), but maybe other questions were more fair game, even simple ones.

"I've always tried to be honest with you Clint, because I trust you" Fighting with the buckles of her boot, finally wrenching it on her foot and looking for the other one.

"It better be a deal. You're like a human hot water bottle." Watching him with a smirk to match his. "Mind out the gutter, I know that smile. I need at least ten hours of unbroken sleep and I plan to get them."

Of course there were stipulations. Complete and utter honesty wasn’t something to expect from anyone nowadays, especially someone with so much to hide. He nodded his head to let her know he understood. It did help, though, when she chose to elaborate. She didn’t have to, she didn’t have to talk about trust, but he appreciated it because he knew how hard it was to put his trust in her, so it meant a lot that she trusted him in return.

“I know,” he said. “Same goes for me.” If it meant something to hear it then he had to assume she’d appreciate hearing it back. He didn’t have as much to hide as her, but she knew the issues he had with trust and abandonment. Everyone he’d ever loved had betrayed him, and while it was no Red Room it had all still left a mark, some both mentally and physically.

Leaning forward to tie his boots, Clint chuckled at the admonishment. “Hey, I wouldn’t even dream of keeping you awake,” he tried to protest, but the grin made it less effective. “I know how cranky you get when you don’t get enough sleep, and I do value my life.”

It wasn't even that she wanted to hide it, she wasn't proud or happy about any part of her upbringing. However there was still a disturbed part of her that enjoyed her past to some extent. That's what she wanted to hide. The fact that even when Natalia took the reigns Natasha had still enjoyed the rush of blood, the wet heat and the thrill of watching someone die by your hands. It was those thoughts that reminded her to keep her mouth shut because people wouldn't understand and helping them connect the dots to her own pleasure would be too much.

Natasha smiled, half caught out of her own thoughts. This is what made them work, the fact they were both in ways so broken and damaged and that they had to change to work as well as they did. She simply bumped his shoulder again, finding her other boot and tugging it on, wincing at the pain in her muscle from the jolt.

She stood quickly, took a few unsteady steps towards the bag to find a jacket, laughing in her general melodic tune. "That's the biggest lie I've ever heard. Hell, if we had more time I'd be going for round two right now" She cocked her head to give him an innocent look over her shoulder, bending only slightly to buckle her boots, giving him the same 'show' he'd gave her albeit with more clothes on.
"I would suffocate you with the pillow. Also if, whatever this is, is going to work we have to be more discrete."

Through their years together, while they kept many things to themselves they had also mastered the act of silent communication. Often they could carry on entire conversations with just looks, touches and gestures; it drove Tony crazy. This was one of those moments, and while they had talked about trust the silent understanding was just how deep that trust ran between them, and the fact that there really was nobody else either of them could say that about. Returning her smile for a moment, soft and genuine, Clint then finished tying his boots and got to his feet, slipping on the jacket he’d left hanging on the chair. Stooping to gather up the bits and pieces of discarded clothing, he stopped and gave her a look at her words.

“In that case you better get some sleep when we get back ‘cause you’re gonna need the energy,” he said with a leering grin. Of course she had to accent her words by giving him a good view of just how perfect her jeans fit. With less than ten minutes, now wasn’t the time.

He didn’t get time to comment on her threat before her next statement caught him off guard, though in a good way; a very good way. Whatever this was, whatever she wanted it to be, he would do just about anything to make it work. Realising he had just sort of gone silent and stock still, he walked over to where she stood, arms laden with clothes to stuff in the bag when she was done rooting through it. “Hey, I can be discrete,” he stated. “Nothing has to change as far as everyone else is concerned, it’s none of their business anyway. We just... act like we always have.”

Maybe a little easier said than done, but he was up to the task. Might be a little difficult keeping his hands off of her, especially when they were sparring, but it was the subtle things that would be harder to disguise. He just had to hope nobody noticed any change in how he looked at her from now on.

She rolled her eyes at his words, turned to pick at the items in his hands, slowly folding them and stuffing them into the bag. "Stark will make it his business, and if Stark finds out Fury will flip his shit" A smirk suddenly fell on her lips, stuffing the rest of the clothes and items into the bag with a soft laugh. "I also feel like this is a great opportunity to fuck with Stark as much as possible." Any chance to fuck with Tony made her day complete considering the amount of times he'd tried to get her to tell him who Natalia was and why Natasha's files were covered in thick black marks.

Natasha studied him for a moment, head tilted and a smile playing along the curve of her lips. "Act like we always have huh Barton? I'm sure I can go back to internally wanting to strip you down and fuck the shit out of you, but are you going to be okay doing the same?" She carelessly reached out, tapping fingers on his chest. "I mean, it's certainly going to be hard now" The pun was a terrible choice of words, but really, Natasha didn't care, plus she had a lot of 'getting back' to do even if it was his stupidly placed questions that was the catalyst for last night.

"People don't tend to question why I'm staring at you, probably because they think I'm pondering ways of kicking your ass, when really I've been thinking about what I'd like to do to you" Everything seemed so innocent, Natasha being able to switch in and out of anything easily because her teasing tone of voice didn't last as she retrieved fingers and smoothed her jeans down her legs.

Had Clint been in charge of packing he would have just stuffed the whole armload in the bag as is, but Natasha decided to waste what little time they had left folding everything. Women. His face lit up at the idea of fucking with Tony, though. It was definitely a worthwhile pastime. “I approve of this plan.” It would drive Tony crazy.

With only the weapons left to grab, Clint took a moment’s pause. It was a bad idea. With so little time remaining, Natasha decided there was still enough to get close and teasing and, Christ she was just not going to make this easy for him. “Oh, it’s gonna be hard,” he agreed, his voice little better than a growl. Grabbing her hips he pulling her against him. “Luckily most people are more likely to be looking at you than me. And I’m sure there are enough that have already guessed I’ve wanted to fuck your brains out for years.”

They could go on thinking whatever they wanted, they didn’t have to know that anything had been acted on.

“You just keep thinking about it and next time we’re alone maybe you can make it a reality.” He leaned in so his forehead touched hers. “Now they’ll be here any minute, so gimme a kiss and let’s make it a good one.” He didn’t wait for affirmation before capturing her lips with his.

Fucking with Tony was probably going to end up with Natasha in hysterics behind closed doors. Mind already racing over scenarios in which they could start planting the seeds in his mind.

Of course the tone of his voice snapped her out her happy little Stark-inspired daydream and had her attention fully back on him, especially when she found herself pressed up against him with his fingers digging into her hips. "For years? I'm a little hurt you never tried it on before now Barton". Of course that may have been a slight white lie, or maybe not.

"There's no maybe about it Barton." She smirked, eyes slipping closed because hell, he was pressed too close and if she didn't close them she wouldn't be able to control herself. His words made her laugh softly, a dark chuckle in the back of her throat that died under his lips, hands winding their way around his neck. Of course Shield would have to call at that particular moment. In half a mind to take her phone and throw it at the nearest wall, instead she pulled back, nipping at his lip for good measure.

"Alright Romeo, let's get out of here yeah?"

For years, yes. It hadn’t started out that way, in the beginning he had just wanted to help her, to banish her demons and train her to use her skills for good, but the more he got to know her, the more she let him in, the harder it was to deny his attraction to her. He told himself it was nothing and that he was nothing special; every straight man with a pulse wanted her, he could never act on it.

Only apparently he could and he had and it had been amazing, and it was only the beginning. So as much as he kicked himself for not going for it sooner, he wouldn’t change anything.

For a long moment he lost himself in the kiss; feeling her, tasting her until there was nothing else, she was everything. Then, of course, the call came in and the moment was gone. He held her just a little longer, breathing her in, before slowly nodding. “If we have to.”

Reluctantly he let her go and moved away to grab his bow and quiver.

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The Compulsive Truth Telling Meme.

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