Dare Topic

I'm interested. Give the whole confession from top to bottom. Slay is the ultimate brOTP.

Echo wrote:

I'm interested. Give the whole confession from top to bottom. Slay is the ultimate brOTP.

These words are meant only for two pure lovers.

I'm disappointed, but that's understandable.

Despite all the build-up of living with the two girls that had caused him the most grief he’d ever experienced in his life, Owen was finding living in a dorm with Madison and Nicola much more pleasant than he had previously assumed it would be. The three were quickly becoming closer friends. They shared homework troubles, snacks, late night television marathons, and comfort. School was starting to feel more like home to the boy.

It had been a month since the dorm changes. A Friday night that found Owen lounging on the sofa, his feet kicked up on the coffee table, a bowl of popcorn on his lap that had gone cold as he got distracted by the rerun that was playing. As the show changed to commercial, the door to the room opened and allowed Nicola entrance, a grocery bag hanging off her arm as she closed the door behind her, her light hair trailing down her back and swinging with her motion. Politely, Owen muted the television, waiting to ask her what she had brought back. He watched as she shed her jacket, tossing it over the back of the chair as she walked around its edge and flopped into it, her feet joining his on the table and crossing at the ankles. Her personality had become more pronounced in the time they’d spent in this dorm, he had noticed. Her lazy confidence started to seem more like it was being faked than anything else, but still unsure, Owen merely rolled with it a lot of the time.

As he watched her, she reached into her bag and pulled out a box of-- Pocky? He couldn’t help feeling baffled at this. Hadn’t they had enough trouble over such a simple snack? She popped the top and dug into the bag for one of the chocolate covered sticks, easily placing one end between her lips and biting through the cracker. Nicola seemed to take no notice of Owen, staring blankly at the muted television screen instead, slouching slightly in her chair, the weight of the week apparently weighing on her small shoulders. The boy looking at her didn’t seem to notice he was staring until she said, “Enjoying the view? Channel’s back.”

Embarrassed, he unmuted the screen once more, the sounds of a laugh track breaking the silence suddenly. Owen wasn’t paying attention anymore despite his eyes being fixed on the flashing colors broadcast through his screen. His mind was whirling as it so often had since he arrived at the school, whirling with weird feelings and thoughts and strange images, images that he’d seen before but had changed slightly, involving a different person than usual…

“Hey, Flashlight, want one or not?”

He was shaken from his thoughts by the girl’s voice. Turning his head, he saw that she had extended the box to him, a clear offer that he had apparently been ignoring for who knew how long. Without a word, he leaned forward, his feet falling to the floor as he placed the popcorn bowl on the table and stretched to stick his own fingers in the package, grabbing one of the treats for himself. He took a bite of it, hardly sparing a look for Nicola, worried that looking into her eyes would betray the weird thoughts he was suddenly having. He cursed himself for staying friends with these girls. They would be the death of him one way or another, he just knew it.

“Are you really into this show?” she asked him, pulling him from his thoughts once again. Smoother than before, he shrugged, his free hand wrapping around the remote and muting the volume once more.

“There isn’t really anything else on,” he said truthfully. He had spent twenty minutes channel surfing before settling on the most exciting program of all the boring ones. “Why? Was there something you wanted to watch?” Owen had extended the remote to her before she responded to him.

“Nah, I had an idea of something else we could do,” Nicola said, a sly smile pulling on the corners of her mouth, something Owen had come to learn meant she was planning something. Wanting to play along, he shut off the television before giving her his full attention.

“Pray tell, what was your idea?”

Instead of using words, the girl pulled her hat off, revealing the top of her head with several flyaways following the static trail left by the cap, which she set on the corner of the table closest to her as she leaned forward, copying Owen’s position. Elbows resting on her knees, she dug into the package for another Pocky stick. Realizing where this was going, the boy felt a jolt through his chest. Would he be able to go through with this? Another round of this stupid game, the one that had gotten them in trouble before, the one he had never been a part of? Yet as Nicola’s eyes flicked up to his, something felt right. Madison wasn’t here. She didn’t have to know. Would she even care? With less than two feet of space between him and Nicola, all thoughts of Madison left the boy’s mind.

Pocky in mouth, held tightly between her teeth, Nicola seemed to have lost her smirky attitude, an uncertainty giving her face an impassive look. Owen almost faltered, the strangeness of this situation filling him with hesitation, but the past several months had been so uneventful, he needed something, anything, to give him some excitement. Having already seen the game in action, he knew what he had to do, what it would lead to. Still, he closed the small space and placed his own mouth over the opposite end of the stick.

Silence pressed on his ears as he tried not to focus on how close he and Nicola were. He nearly missed that she had already started to chew on her end, hurriedly joining her and slowly closing the space between them more than it had already been. The silence was replaced by the rushing of blood in his ears, dizziness in his head, tightness in his chest. Was he really doing this? Was this actually happening? What were they thinking, doing something like this? Madison could be back any moment, Madison would see, Madison. . .

Their lips suddenly met as the biscuit disappeared. For a brief moment, Owen was frozen, waiting to see what Nicola would do and sensing a tension in her lips. He took a second to swallow the food that was in his mouth, his eyes closed, giving up everything to feeling instead of seeing. Did he want this? Did she want this? What the hell were they doing?

Just as he decided he’d better pull away, Nicola kissed him gently, tentatively, her lips fitting with his perfectly, more perfectly than he ever would have dared imagine. He responded in kind, perhaps more excitedly than he meant to, feeling the surprise in her as he leaned in, nearly falling off the edge of the couch where he sat. One of his hands came up, cupping her face carefully, holding her close as the kiss deepened. Both of them were nervous, the feeling strong in the slow way they kissed, but Owen found himself relaxing into it, somehow finding this natural and easing into taking the lead, his other hand resting open palmed on her knee. Her hand was on his arm, equally prepared to pull him closer or push him away. He could forget so much like this.

A sound startled both of them away, each springing back to their original seat as though they were children that had been caught misbehaving. In a way, they had. Owen looked to the source of the noise to see Madison had entered the room, the door still open behind her, a dumbfounded look on her face as she stared, wide-eyed, from Nicola to Owen and back again before straying to the box of Pocky lying on the table.

“Madison, I… I…” Owen floundered for words. His face was hot with shame, his hands clasped between his knees as though they would prevent him from doing anything worse. Not that things could get worse from here. Twice now, the Pocky had betrayed Madison. It had backed her into a corner and now she was trapped in another, expression not much different than a literal deer in headlights. Nicola didn’t even try to say anything, merely reaching for her cap and putting it back on her head, every movement unnaturally calculated, clearly anticipating a disagreement.

In a small voice, their shocked friend murmured, “Sorry, I’ll come back later.” And just like that, she was gone from the room again.

When the pocky goes too far

Madison opened her eyes against the early rise of the sun, fighting a headache and looking out sleepily to the purple sky's heavenly dawn. What time was it? Further pain blossomed from her temple as she swung her feet to the ground, and despite her aching fatigue, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Meanwhile, monsters loomed, stayed in corners and said nothing, relapsing into the shadows to endure the daytime. She watched the bubbly, snakeish fiends recoil. Then, she felt a pressure across her bed, a soft turning, followed by a delicate 'hmph.'
The girl whipped her head around to see Nicola. She was nose-deep under the covers, eyes tightly shut, save for the occasional flutter they gave. Was she going to stir? Would she scream if there was a stir? The girl remained in her slumber, and Madison watched, frozen, not wanting to wake Nicola, the figure in her bed. What had led to their sharing of a bed? Why couldn't she remember anything of the night prior? Madison's forehead still beat with a long, droning, drum of an ache, and she shut her eyes tightly. She massaged her neck of the tightness it exuded. She looked down.
She was naked.
At this discovery, Madison shot up from the side of the bed, now completely awake, backing away from where her friend was, if 'friend' was the word in question. Her face was a vivid red, and she rummaged through her drawer for underwear and a t-shirt. As if Nicola's eyes were on her in her dressing, in a way imagining she was, anticipating and embracing the moment when Nicola's fluttering eyes would become wakeful eyes, and look at her. This endured until she was covered enough to breathe. She leaned against the windowsill, and breathed, looking hard at the figure in her bed, and wondering how it came to that. Was that what she always wanted? She shook in the dawn chill, in the idea of what happened the night prior, and if she wanted to remember it or not. Her mom was always clamoring about her meeting a boy. Last time she checked, Nicola was a girl.
It was a Sunday. She would not have drank unless there was a day to wait out the hangover that ensued. Madison shifted on the balls of her feet, drew a breath, and stood up from her loiter. Her mien was still touched with the spell of Hypnos, pale and soft her lips drew back, and she tiptoed towards the door, perhaps to get some water or to wake up Owen, or to climb into Owen's bed and think of a life lived differently, a night carried differently. She breathed. Her bed creaked with the pressure of a body rolling over, a magnetized head attracted to her own body, and a small voice called: "Madison...?"
Madison froze. She stood in the doorway, back turned to her lover, and that doorway became a barrier. She could never leave, and she no longer wanted to. It was dawn, after all, and they had to have stayed up long into the AM hours. Yes, that's right, they did. Madison turned on her heels, brushing past monsters that grasped loosely at her hips. She returned to the bedside, and lightly throwing over the covers, crawled into bed with Nicola. The smaller girl pulled closer to her.
"I love you," the girl whispered.
"I love you too," Madison replied, kissing her head.

Blackmail

She looked him straight in the eyes. She could tell there was guilt there, Jonathan's eyes only meeting hers in a flicking gaze. She knew he was stressed, was a little unstable, but she could never guess he'd suggest that! There was a disgust in her voice as she glared at him and spoke: "Why would you suggest that?"
"You have no choice, Maiz," he said, trying to keep up an air of cunning. His smile was slim but shaky. "I mean, we've been mates for a while. Don't you want to see how it'd be to try something more?"
The sincerity in his eyes as he tried to justify it was sickening. Maisie said nothing to what he said, looking down in her bag to where the folder lay. She swallowed. It was either do what he asked, or get called out for working with Argona's Force. Maisie gave him a dark look, and shook her head. It'd be fine. She'd just get it over with.
She said she wanted to do it on the rooftop, their rooftop, their hiding spot where they'd hang out before Jonno got in that coma. She didn't trust him, not in the way he was; he talked the same way, but there was a monotone in his voice, and he was suggesting THIS of her. She wanted to make sure he wouldn't go farther, that there was a voice to hear them if she wished to give a shout. It was worth giving up the spot. She kneeled down on the gravel, the stones of the concrete surface rubbing at her thighhighs as she brought a shaking hand to his pants.
"Should I...?" she looked up at him, to which he blushed and nodded. He was actually blushing, trying to act like it was some kind of cute moment. She shook her head, and unzipping his pants, pulled at what was inside. It immediately sprang out, and she was taken aback by its vivacity, flinching a bit as it came from his jeans with a sudden jump. She examined it, realizing just how naive she was at those acts. She could roll a joint scraping weed out of the bottom of a bag and using a NECO wafer wrapper, could chug two bottles of beer without getting buzzed, but she felt like an innocent little puppy when faced with a stupid old cock. She put a finger to it. It jumped.
"Nate's gonna like hearing about your new job, ey Maiz?" There was a new courage in Jonathan's voice, as if he summoned the will to rid himself of his previous regrets. She looked up at him with scorn, mumbling a 'Fuck you,' and cautiously put her mouth around the tip. She noticed it glowed with a heat, something adverse to any part of his body. She'd touched him on the arm before, the face, the hand, but this seemed hotter than all of those. Carefully, she ran her tongue over the bottom of the head, hearing him moan and wanting to bite him right there. She knew it wouldn't help her cause to wound him in such a place, however, and continued her work, coming up for air and going back down, farther that time, an audible suck coming as she moved her mouth. It tasted awful, as she expected. Still, she was moving slowly, and she felt his hand move to her head, groping her hair.
"The faster I finish," she heard his quiet voice say over the wind, "The faster you do."
She felt his fingers move through her hair softly as she picked up the pace, moving her tongue more than she had originally, trying to get him to wherever he was trying to go. All the while, the petting of her head turned into more of a grip, and he made more sounds. "Maisie..." he murmured. "Keep going, keep going."
And she did, going faster and more meticulous, in a rhythm, until she heart him groan: "Cumming, cumming..."
She immediately pulled her mouth out from over his dick, and was met with a hot burst of liquid on her face, streaking up her mouth. She spat vitriolically, wiping the goo off of her and watching it stick unceremoniously to her hand.
There was a pause as he breathed, looking down at her. Finally, he spoke.
"Maisie, I'm sorry..."
And she didn't respond. Not then, not ever.

I seem to have caught myself in a corner. Nicowen or Madola? They're both too good and are kickstarted by Pocky.

A dramatic reading of one of the smuts listed above. Enjoy, you sick audible freaks

http://vocaroo.com/i/s1xu7cUfP6Tt

Coldsteel the Hedgeheg

http://vocaroo.com/i/s099dR59a8KC

MY EYES BURN

MY SLIGHTLY INNOCENT EYES BURN

WHY

WHY DID THIS HAPPEN xDD









The better question is, why the fuck did I read all of it?

Psh, your innocence doesn't exist.

The innocent don't survive here.

lovedove5667 wrote:

MY EYES BURN

MY SLIGHTLY INNOCENT EYES BURN

WHY

WHY DID THIS HAPPEN xDD

The better question is, why the fuck did I read all of it?

My sweet, (used to be) innocent, Little Bear, curiosity is the most powerful thing you own.

Echo wrote:

Psh, your innocence doesn't exist.

Yeah... xDD

And Ice, that is pretty true xDD

I know it is, that is why I share my words of wisdom with you. Smaller children need to be given advice once in a while.

.....

"advice"

I just read two pages of smut.

I'm pretty sure any advice I'm given will be beaten up like the punching bag in that gif.