Funny Dares Novels & Stories

The fire crackled in the background, adding a touch of magic to the atmosphere. Jonathan’s eyes sparkled mischievously as he turned to me. “Truth or dare, my daring Angel?” I grinned, feeling a thrill of excitement. “Dare!” He chuckled, his mind concocting a mischievous plan. “I dare you to give me a silly, exaggerated dance performance right here, right now.” My eyes widened with surprise. I had never been known for my dancing skills, but I was always up for a challenge. Taking a deep breath, I stood up and walked to the centre of the room, ready to give it my all.

And the movie, I have been watching it since the starting but I couldn't seem to understand a scene. "This movie is so boring, I couldn't understand a single scene." I complained and Dylan just chuckled. Argh, why were his chuckles so infuriating!? "Are you sure? Because I don't think you have been watching it at all." He laughed again. "What nonsense? I'm sitting here with you and I have been watching it since the start but it's just plain boring." "You are sitting here but I have been noticing you, you are thinking about something else was smiling occasionally in between. That was the reason I asked did you have a good date with Niall?"

After all of our time together at school and with the team, we were all easily relaxed with each other. As the night wore on, Rebecca suggested the cliche of truth or dare. No one complained so I added in a few extra rules: all dares must be inside the house; the person who was dared could issue a challenge and make the person who issued the dare complete it first and afterward, the person who dared had to complete the dare; and failure or refusal by either party would result in a consequence agreed upon by all the rest of us. Everyone agreed on these rules. I volunteered to go first and picked "truth" to start us out slow and easy.

“Okay, don’t kill me but every part at ten we play truth or dare. You don’t get to pass. The bottle spins and picks two people. Then one of them calls truth or dare, and the other answers. If you chicken out—you strip.” “I’m sorry, did you just say strip?!” "Down to your underwear," Yara says cheerfully, not noticing the grimace in my voice. "Or less. Depends on your tolerance for shame." Oh, no, no, no. If it’s not obvious already, I hate truth or dare. I don’t see the point of spilling my secrets or being dared to do humiliating shit just to entertain drunk assholes. “I think I’ll pass—” “Girl, no,” Yara hisses, gripping my hand. “If you bail now, you’ll be marked for death. These people w

Elena said happily, "No, phones", she added and averted her gaze at Caterina. "We're going to watch a popular movie we're all familiar with, and then we'll answer some trivia questions, and for whoever loses a question, the person has to take a shot; after that, we're going to play twisters and finally…" the girls started drumming excitedly on the small table "Truth or dare" "So ladies, without further ado, let game night begin!" Elena exclaimed excitedly.

“Sneaking out of a mansion to show up at your party.” They laugh — not mocking, but like they get it. And it feels… not humiliating. It’s powerful. Then someone else picks a dare and the game goes on — people kiss, chant silly things, someone has to take shots. Wine slides down my throat in sips because I don’t want to stand out. I feel like I’m being tested but I’m passing.

Little dares and stupid dares. “Text the last person in your call log something scandalous.” “Dance with that guy over there.” “Steal a sip from a stranger’s drink.” Some I did. Some I refused. But with each laugh, each ridiculous moment, the tightness in my chest loosened just a little.

“It’s creative. Besides, it’s not like anyone’s going to draw that one right away.” It doesn’t take long before the games begin. Laughter erupts when one guy has to wear someone else’s shoes for the next round. Another guy is sent out to ask the bartender for a drink in his worst attempt at an accent. Rich’s stack of ridiculous dares and challenges keeps everyone entertained, and soon enough, the group is leaning on one another to stay upright from laughing too hard.

It sounded ridiculous to me, I kept rolling my eyes internally, feeling so bored. As the fire died down and everywhere became dark, and the adults started snoring in their chairs, we the older kids, eighteen and above snuck off for one last round of truth and dares. It was this sneaky tradition we did every year. The Dares began easy: sneak into the chapel and touch the altar without getting busted, the wood smooth and cool under my fingers in the dark. Then it got wild, the lead singer's son was asked to strip down to his underwear and cannonball into the lake which he did.

Fred I was still stuck in traffic. Still stuck with him. And now his fingers were under my chin like we’re lovers. Like he didn’t wreck me last night and wake me up with a headache and regrets. I glared at him. “What kind of game?” Rafael smirked, that wicked gleam in his eyes growing darker. “Strip Dare.” I blinked. “Are you—? What the hell kind of—” He cut me off. “Relax. One of us asks, the other dares. If you skip a dare, you lose a piece of clothing. Simple.”