Send me “Dare!” and I’ll generate a dare for my muse to do.
Dares are 1-30!
Mix of sfw and nsfw.
Dares are 1-30!
Mix of sfw and nsfw.
Undo the asker’s bottoms with your teeth while making eye contact.
“Hm. Well, uh, that’s awfully daring indeed. Fine, but I am so docking your pay after this.”
Jack pushes Tim over to fall onto his plush office couch, grinning down after him. Hell, he wasn’t gonna refuse someone that good looking, now was he? He settles his weight on his knees between his double’s spread legs, keeping his thighs spread with the bruising grip of his fingers. He moves the bright yellow shirt of the way the best he can, holding it back with a hand and breathing hot on the exposed skin of Tim’s stomach. It’s easy enough to pretend it’s actually himself and not just someone he’s paying to wear his face.
“Y’know, I actually had a dream like this once, but it was uh, more the other way around, if you get what I’m saying.” Jack
stops hesitating and bites into the warm leather of the other’s belt,
tugging it free in inches, his teeth and the chin clasp on his mask
clicking hard on the metal of the buckles. Once he’s gotten that out of
the way he licks his lips and looks up at Tim through his lashes,
trying his damnedest to look as debauched as possible. This is a dare
after all, and hell if he isn’t going to give it a hundred and ten percent. His very pride is at stake.
The button of Tim’s jeans is a little more difficult (he’d really have to get Nish’ to teach him the trick to it). It takes a few tries, but he’s enjoying the way Tim shakes underneath him. He manages to pop it and does a little mental celebration. Shuddup, he’s a master at this. He remembers the eye contact part of the dare again as he goes for the zipper, clenching the tab hard between his teeth and going oh-so slow. He lets out a noise when he reaches the bottom, almost hurting something as he pulls away in victory.
“Yeah! How impressive was that, huh?” Jack pats Tim’s leg in a ‘hit the showers, boys’ move. “On a scale of one to a gazillion how turned on are you, be honest.”
Do a bad impression of the person who asked you the dare.
Jack laughs and slaps his thigh.
“Oh, this’ll be good!”
He turns around and takes a dramatic breath, like an actor composing himself before a scene, and drags the steepled fingers of one hand down the air in front of himself in a zen-like fashion. He was most definitely going to get slapped for this, so why not make it count, right?
He turns again, glowering menacingly with a raised eyebrow and pretending to lift a cowboy hat out of his eyes with a finger. He can’t keep the grin off his masked face as he points his ‘guns’ around and ‘shoots’ the invisible bandits around him, making pew-pew noises as he does so. He does a full circle before blowing the ‘smoke’ from his finger pistols and makes like he’s spinning them around before miming them into holsters like an old-fashion movie cowboy.
He starts to wrap his arm in a bow—
“Oh, wait! I almost forgot.”
He winds it back and jerks it forward hard, imitating a whip crack sound and yelping, and then mimes something incorrigible with his fingers, making more juvenile screaming sounds and raspberries. When he’s done bouncing around like a child he rolls his hand and resumes his dip, thanking the non-existent crowd. There aren’t any roses, but the floor is probably going to have a lot of red on it in a second anyway. Worth it.
Take off an item of clothing every time someone says your name.
“Well, no one’s said my name yet, so— wait does it count if I say it? What if I read it??” Jack puts his head in his hands and groans.
“Okay— as much as I’m sure you’re all dying to see me naked, nobody say my name!” He slams a hand on his desk. “It’s too cold on Helios for this shit!!”
Demonstrate how flexible you are on the floor.
“Uh, crap, okay. Do you mean like dancing, or—? Whatever, I can do that.”
Jack removes his brown jacket and flings it haphazardly over the back of his chair before pushing his sleeves back up to his elbows. He breathes out as he sits on the polished floor of his office. There’s a large complaint stuck on his tongue but he doesn’t voice it. Who’s idea was it to do goddamn dares anyway? He wasn’t a kid!! At least the dare wasn’t like, eat a bug or something equally horrible and below him. Whoever it was, he was so going to fire them. Out of an airlock.
He stretches forward, managing to touch the tips of his leather boots and really feeling the burn of it. My god, he thought, this is embarrassing. He used to be a lot better at this, he swears!! He makes a loud frustrated sound and lays on his back.
“Okay, y— you know what! Shutup.” He points an indignant finger to the ceiling. “I’d like to see you all do better!!”
Eat a lemon without flinching.
Jack stares at the offending fruit on his desk with a scowl. He wasn’t too big on fruit in the first place, but this— this was just madness.
“Where did you even—? You know what, nevermind.”
He rolls it towards himself and picks it up, flicking out his favorite knife to cut away a chunk of the yellow skin. His favorite color too, how ironic. The acid in the air hits him before he can even get it to his mouth, burning his eyes with how strong it was. He really didn’t want to know how it’d feel on his chapped lips, (Nisha likes to bite, and so does he). Even with the mask on, he really doesn’t wanna do this.
“Okay, no.” He throws it somewhere behind his chair, enjoying the splat it makes on his planet-view windows. He’d get someone to clean it up later. “Not doin’ that. Is there like uh, a penalty game or something? That isn’t ridiculous or painful?“
Fake an orgasm.
Jack doubles over, almost choking on his damn potato chips when he reads the dare. He recovers after a few minutes of giggling and slapping the top of his desk as he tries to get his current mouthful down before he opens his lips to speak.
“Ahem—! Okay, that one’s pretty damn funny. I mean, I hardly have to fake it with a face like yours, but I’ll give it a go.”
He pushes his snack away and sits back in his chair, taking a deep breath before scrunching his eyes closed and making increasingly loud moaning sounds that trail off into more giggling.
“Holy crap, I can’t even do it!” He licks his teeth and his masked lips pull up into a smirk. “Tell you what, you get over here and I’ll show you what a real orgasm looks like.”
Walk like a dog.
Jack looks hard at his other self.
“Well, technically you don’t have to— I-I mean—” Shit, He is in trouble. Of all the things to—
He sighs hard, making a loud frustrated noise as he puts his hands over his face.
“Okay, okay!!” The last dare he tried to skip out on almost got him in some very hot water involving a lemon shoved into inappropriate places. He doesn’t want to even begin to imagine what kind of penalty game his future counterpart would come up with.
He sinks to sit on his heels and looks up at the other man with a scowl that’s way too much of a pout for his own liking. He clenches his teeth and scoots his knees across the floor until he’s more or less crawling towards the other. (It’s more of a sad slinking, really, also no he’s not blushing, shutthehellup).
“There, you happy now? Also I swear to god if you try and ‘pet’ me I’m going to bite your damn fingers off.”
DARE MEME ( 6/?? ) __ //
( Wrinkles. His nose. Because this one also isn’t… much of a dare either. Who wrote these? )
“Going right for the throat, eh?”
Jack arches his brow, and stuffs his well-abused list of dares into his back pocket once more. He barely needs to look at it now, he’s memorized all the dares and their corresponding numbers. Young Hotness got the massage dare, which, really. It’s not much of a dare at this point. It’s more like a fucking excuse for him to get his hands all over himself. ( Like he even needs the incentive !! )“Still dogging at me, huh.” Jack sneers, heartily amused and more than a little endeared. He’s never going to let Young Hotness live that down now. He paces briefly, snagging one of the more comfortable looking lounge chairs with his toes, dragging it away from the end table it’s positioned by. Then, he’s got a hold on Young Jack’s upper arms, and physically encourages him to park his ass in said chair. Prop his feet up. Get cozy. If this is the dare, he’s going to indulge in it a little bit.
“Someone’s gotta keep you on your toes, old man.” Jack’s grin is all teeth as he snarks at his future counterpart.
It pulls into a tight lipped scowl at the others jeer; he’s still pretty sore about the whole dog thing. He watches, interested and arms crossed, as his other pulls up a chair and makes an indignant noise when he’s pushed bodily into it. Having future Jack where he can’t see him always makes the hairs on his neck stand on end. He wonders just what the hell he’s gotten himself into this time.
The ghost of fingers on his skin makes him shiver, gives him goosebumps, and now he’s really concerned. He wants to ask what– to protest– but the arms draped over his shoulders cut him off. He’s suddenly very acutely aware of how close those fingers are to his throat and just how much damage they could do, depending on his other’s mood. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t one hell of a turn on, though.
“You relax–” He mumbles under his breath, sinking lower into the cushion of the chair. The hands in his hair make him pause, and suddenly it’s like other Jack is physically pulling all thoughts from his mind, each stroke leaving him blissfully blank. He makes a throaty noise and feels himself relaxing quickly to the touch, like those large hands have put him under some sort of spell and he wants to ask just when they got so good at this, but all that comes out is another low moan. Usually his hair would be off limits (excluding Nish’ and well, himself, he guesses) but the gentle push and tug was enough to make him swallow any protests lingering in his throat about messing up his image.
Pressing, searching fingers, knowing just where to squeeze, and he’s going slack-jawed, eyes closed. He lets Old Busted Hotness manhandle him where he pleased, despite whatever instinct yelling at him otherwise.
“Yeah, I’ll, uh… mmf–” grunts as the tougher knots in his shoulders are worked out, too distracted to even speak properly “-dooo that…” He was going to give whoever came up with this dare a friggin’ raise.
Send “slurred words” to hear my muse describe yours whilst ridiculously drunk.
“Mmm, Tim. Timmy Timmy Tim.“ Jack takes a sip from his drink and bares his teeth as it goes down hard. He’s only on number three but it’s starting to hit him.
“I like Tim. More than I liked any of the others. I mean– everyone wants to be me, cause I’m– y’know, I’m friggin’ awesome, that’s ah– that’s a given– but Tim– oh-o-no; Tim didn’t. That’s why I picked him, y’know.” He barks out a laugh. “He had no idea! no idea– what he was getting into. I wanted to give him that gift. The gift of being me.“ He leans back in his chair.
“‘Cause that’s just how I am. A uh– generous guy.“
“UGH!!” Jack drops his head on the desk and repeats until it hurts. Why this !!
“That fucking, hunk of junk–“ He slams his glass down with a little more force than he’d meant to– scratch that he’d fucking throw it if he didn’t think he’d need the booze just to get through this one– preferably in Clap-Trap’s general direction. He rubs his brow with a thumb to fight off the dizziness.
“Who the hell even thinks to program a goddamn dance protocol, I swear to fuckin’ god. There could not be a more useless robot.“
Jack purses his lips, pressing them to his almost-empty glass.
“Great beard. Uhh–” He squeezes one eye shut, trying to think. “I like him. he doesn’t ask questions, and he gets the job done.“
“Also his– robot bits are fuckin’ cool.” He covers his face. “Not like– god, that– that sounded wrong--, you all know what I meant!! Shutthehellup.“
“My– my baby girl.” Jack props an elbow on his desk and rests his forehead on his open palm. “My baby, my sweetheart– my angel.”
“I love her more than—– ‘d do anything for her.“ He covers his eyes, massaging the bridge of his nose with a finger and thumb.
“I’ll make a fuckin’ paradise for her; doesn’t matter how many people need to die.” And– oh, how many already had.
“Just you watch me.”
Jack laughs and runs his teeth over his bottom lip, exhaling loudly and looking up at the ceiling.
“Mmm– how does one describe Handsome Jack?“
He swirls his drink, ice clinking on the glass. He’d gone ahead and poured himself another. Not because Old Busted told him to– if that’s what you’re thinking you can go ahead and park your ass in the Time-Out corner, (the Time-Out corner being a moonshot shell; he would shoot you out of the cannon if he caught you saying anything like that).
“Besides being the most Handsome, Gorgeous, Talented– and not to mention sexy– man in the entire galaxy? Other than myself, of course– but then again– uh, you are me,“ He still wasn’t exactly sure how that was working, but the space time continuum hadn’t imploded yet (and they’d done plenty of touching, believe him) so who was he to complain?
“He’s– he’s uh, something to look forward to. A good reminder that what I’m doing– that all my– all my sacrifices aren’t in vain– and I‘m already, exactly what Pandora needs.“ He tips his glass back and downs his drink in one long swallow before slamming it back down. His next words are said with more conviction than any others that have come out of his mouth in his entire life.
“Handsome Jack– is the goddamned Hero.”
"Are you even listening to me?"
"Are you even listening to yourself?"
"Are you sure they won’t find out?”
"Are you sure this is legal?”
"Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
"Are you threatening me?"
"Be mine."
"Can you be anymore obvious?"
"Do I know you?"
"Do you love me?"
"Do you remember this?"
"Do you trust me?"
"Don’t go."
"Don’t let me die"
"Don’t look at me like that."
"Don’t make me beg.”
"Don’t you dare come near me!"
"Don’t you dare."
"Explain yourself."
"For you, I would _____"
"Give it back."
"Give me another chance."
"Have you ever even done this before?"
"How drunk are you right now?"
"I already regret this."
"I am not wearing that.”
"I can’t believe you missed that."
"I can’t do this anymore."
"I can’t even look at you."
"I could kill you!"
"I dare you." or "I dare you to _____."
"I didn’t do it.""
"I didn’t know you could do that."
"I don’t want to look at you right now.”
"I guess this is goodbye.”
"I hate you."
"I have to go."
"I just want to cuddle."
"I know your secret.”
"I love you, but I really wish I didn’t.”
"I love you."
"I miss you so very much."
"I missed you."
"I need a drink."
"I need a hug."
"I never really loved you."
"I owe you."
"I think I broke it."
"I think I’m falling in love with you. "
"I think I’m forgetting something."
"I think it’s broken.”
"I trust you."
"I want to be yours."
"I want to try this thing I read in a book.”
"I want you. Naked. In my bed. Now."
"I’ll be there in five minutes.”
”This is really inappropriate.”
"I’m all for spicing thing’s up, but isn’t this a bit much?”
"I’m bad for you.”
"I’m dying."
"I’m going to be sick."
"I’m not speaking to you anymore."
"I’m pregnant and it’s yours."
"I’ve never heard that one before."
"If you stay quiet, no one will know.”
"Is that my shirt?"
"It was me"
"It’s so beautiful.”
"It’s time to choose.”
"Just five more minutes."
"Just go."
"Just leave me alone."
"Just let me die."
"Just relax."
"Just what did we do last night?"
"Kiss me you idiot."
"Kiss me."
"Like you even care."
"Little too late, don't you think?"
"Make me."
"Marry me?"
"My parents don’t know"
"My parents know.""
"Never again."
"Nh, don’t be so rough!"
"No! You can’t die on me now!"
"Obviously there is something between us."
"Of all the things I've heard, that hurt the most."
"Put it away.”
"Put your trousers on!"
"Put. The. Weapon. Down."
"Quiet, I am trying to think."
"Relax, I have a plan."
"Really?"
"Shut up and listen."
"Take responsibility."
"That isn’t mine."
"That looked easier on TV."
"That sounds painful."
"That was a bad plan."
"That’s mine!”
"That’s the cheesiest pickup line I’ve ever heard."
"They’re coming.”
"This seems familiar."
"This stays between us."
"Truth hurts, don’t it?"
"Unbelievable. I can't believe you right now."
"Very good, you had me fooled."
"Want to hear a secret?"
"We need to talk."
"We’re moving too fast.”
"Well that was unexpected."
"What are we doing here?"
"What are you afraid of?"
"What are you touching?"
"What are you?"
"What do you need?"
"What happened to you?"
"What have I done this time?"
"What if someone catches us?”
"What sort of noise was that?”
"What the hell do you think you’re doing?"
"What were you thinking?"
"Where are my clothes?"
"Where did you find this?"
"Where do you even find this sort of thing?”
"Where were you?"
"Who’d have guessed you could pull such a face?”
"Why are you wearing that?"
"Why yes, I am as think as you drunk I am."
"You could have died!”
"You could have killed someone!"
"You coward."
"You don’t need to be so gentle.”
"You drive me crazy!"
"You have ten minutes, so make it quick.”
"You lied to me!"
"You mean everything to me."
"You owe me."
"You’re all out of ____."
"You’re an idiot.”
"You’re bad for me.”
"You’re dead to me."
"You’re pregnant and it’s mine"
"You’re really good at this…”
"You’re so weird.""
"You’re under arrest."
Jack’s grin is nothing but teeth as he wiggles his fingers in his double’s direction, closing in on his prey.
“Oh, c’mon, kiddo. C’mere for a sec– just a sec !!” Nisha had let it slip that little Timmy was ticklish, and Jack had a hankering to see just how hard he could make him squeal.
He lunges at Tim, who ducks away from him with a yelp. Jack flexes his jaw and grabs for the other’s collar but his double is quicker, staying just out of reach.
“I’m not gonna hurt you, idiot– seriously, come here.” He motions both index fingers for Tim to get his ass over here already, slowly stalking towards him like he was some kind of wild animal. He’s a man who’s goddamned determined.
Jack grunts in agreement, head laying heavy on the table as he nurses one hell of a hangover. He’s ordered everyone else out of the lunchroom where they’d woken up from their drunken stupor, and it’s now blissfully quiet other than the low hum of various Hyperion machinery– he’s more than grateful for the silence.
“Technically– this is all your fault.”
He cradles his head–(and where the hell had his pants gone, anyway?)–, whining long and low-pitched in his throat. He doesn’t get up from his slumped position; he doesn’t think he could even if he tried.
“If it wasn’t for you and your stupid lemons, we wouldn’t be in this mess.” His tone is full of bitterness as he swings a leg under the table in an effort to kick the enforcer sitting across from him. He gives up as soon as he realizes what a waste of energy it is. The other man’s already in just as a sorry state as he is, anyway.
Jack fights back another wave of nausea and rubs at his temples in an attempt to make the pain just go away already. Fuckin’ Tequila!! Never again, indeed.