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Truth or Dare - Brady Potter x Male Reader

Plot: a risky dare turns into a steamy encounter

Warnings: smut

Word Count: 1.45k

Truth or Dare

Finals week had kicked your ass and you needed a break from the weeks long of studying. You had hit up some of your friends to come over to your dorm room and kick it. In the next hours your friends, Marcus, Tyler, Mario, Jason and Brady all pull up at your room with bottles of alcohol ready to have fun.

For the next few hours you guys drank the night away. Marcus proposed that you guys play a game of truth or dare. Everyone gathered in a circle taking turns picking truth or dare. For an hour you guys played truth or dare and as the time increased the dates got more riskier.

Once the bottle landed on you, you picked dare. Your asshole of a friend Tyler dared the most riskiest dare of them all. “I dare you to get give Brady backshots for 10 seconds”. The whole room shouts at Tyler. “Yo bro what the fuck” Jason said a he pushes Tyler away.

Despite all the disapproval you couldn’t help but to think they all wanted to see it as their “disapproval” was met with with laugher. You try to play it off. “Aye, Jason you’re weird as fuck bro” you laugh it off until Brady interrupted.

“You know you want this fat ass” Brady get’s on all fours as him and everyone laughs as Brady attempts to twerk.

The laughter in the room felt electric, buzzing under your skin like the alcohol still burning through your veins. Brady stayed on all fours for a beat longer than necessary, arching his back just enough to make his sweatpants pull tight across the curve of his ass. He threw a cocky glance over his shoulder, eyebrows raised in challenge.

“C’mon, don’t pussy out now,” he teased, voice low and playful. “Ten seconds. You scared?”

The others were howling—Marcus doubled over, Tyler grinning like he’d won the lottery, Mario already pulling out his phone before Jason smacked it down. “Chill, bro, we ain’t recording this shit.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to sell the reluctance, but your pulse was hammering in your throat. The room smelled like cheap vodka, weed residue, and boy-sweat. Brady’s smirk dared you to back down in front of everyone.

“Fine,” you muttered, loud enough for them to hear. “Ten seconds. Timer starts when I say.”

A chorus of “Oooooh” went up. Brady laughed, dropping his head forward so his dark curls spilled over his forehead. You stepped behind him, heart slamming against your ribs. The others scooted back to give space, still giggling like kids watching something forbidden.

You grabbed his hips—firm, warm through the thin fabric—and pressed forward in one slow, deliberate motion. Not full force, but enough that Brady let out a surprised huff, then a low, exaggerated moan that sent everyone into hysterics again.

“Damn, he’s really doing it!” Tyler cackled.

You kept count in your head. One… two… three… Each thrust made Brady’s body rock forward, his arms flexing as he braced against the carpet. By five his laughter had died down into something quieter, breathier. His back dipped lower, ass pushing back to meet you like he was testing how far you’d go.

Seven… eight… nine…

Ten.

You pulled back fast, hands up like you’d been caught stealing. Brady collapsed onto his stomach dramatically, face buried in his arms, shoulders shaking with laughter.

“Y’all are wild,” he wheezed. “That was weak as fuck. I barely felt that.”

The room erupted again—insults, cheers, someone chanting “Rematch! Rematch!”—but the energy was peaking, then cresting. People were starting to yawn, eyes glassy from the liquor. Marcus was the first to tap out, mumbling something about an 8 a.m. final before stumbling toward the door. Tyler and Mario followed, still ribbing each other about whose dare was the most unhinged. Jason lingered longest, giving you a look that was half warning, half amusement, before he too headed out with a lazy “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

The door clicked shut.

Silence dropped like a curtain.

Brady was still sprawled on the floor, propped on his elbows now, watching you. His shirt had ridden up, exposing the dip of his lower back and the elastic band of his black boxer-briefs. The room felt smaller without the others filling it.

“You good?” he asked, voice softer, no mockery left.

You swallowed. “Yeah. You?”

He pushed up to his knees, then to his feet in one smooth motion. “Better than good.”

He stepped closer—slow, deliberate. You didn’t move. Couldn’t. The air between you crackled.

“Be honest,” Brady murmured, close enough that you could smell the faint cedar of his cologne mixed with sweat. “You were hard the whole time, weren’t you?”

Your laugh came out shaky. “Fuck you.”

“That’s the plan.”

He closed the gap. One hand curled around the back of your neck, thumb brushing your jaw. The kiss started rough—teeth and hunger and all the tension that had been simmering since the dare. You grabbed fistfuls of his shirt, yanking him closer until there was no space left.

Clothes came off fast. Too fast. Your hoodie hit the desk chair. His sweatpants pooled at his ankles. You stumbled backward toward the bed, mouths never breaking apart. When the backs of your knees hit the mattress, you both went down in a tangle of limbs.

Brady ended up on top, straddling your hips, grinding down slow and filthy. His cock was heavy against your stomach, leaking already. You wrapped a hand around him—hot, thick, velvet over steel—and he hissed, head dropping to your shoulder.

“Been thinking about this for months,” he admitted against your skin, voice wrecked. “Every time you walked around in those little gym shorts…”

You flipped him onto his back, pinning his wrists above his head. “Shut up and spread your legs.”

He did—eager, shameless—knees falling open, hips lifting like an invitation. You reached for the drawer beside the bed, fishing out the half-empty bottle of lube you kept for nights alone. Brady watched every move, chest rising and falling fast.

You slicked your fingers, then him—slow circles at first, teasing, until he was squirming and cursing under his breath. One finger, then two. He arched, thighs trembling.

“Fuck—hurry up,” he growled.

You didn’t make him wait long.

When you pushed in—slow at first, letting him adjust—he let out a long, broken moan that went straight to your dick. You bottomed out in one steady thrust and had to pause, forehead pressed to his, both of you breathing hard.

“Goddamn,” Brady panted. “You’re bigger than I thought.”

You laughed, breathless. “You complaining?”

“Never.”

You started moving—deep, rolling thrusts that made the cheap dorm bed creak. Brady hooked his legs around your waist, heels digging into your ass, urging you harder, faster. His nails raked down your back, leaving red trails you’d feel tomorrow. Every time you hit that spot inside him he gasped, cock twitching against his stomach, smearing pre-cum in sticky streaks.

“Touch yourself,” you ordered, voice rough.

He obeyed instantly, wrapping a hand around his length, stroking in time with your thrusts. The sight—Brady spread out, flushed, lips parted, jerking himself while you fucked into him—snapped something in you.

You slammed in harder. The headboard banged against the wall. Brady’s moans turned into choked-off curses, then wordless sounds. His free hand gripped your forearm like a lifeline.

“Gonna—fuck—I’m close,” he gasped.

“Me too.”

You angled deeper, grinding against that spot relentlessly. Brady’s back bowed off the mattress, abs clenching, hand flying faster. He came first—hard, spilling over his fist and stomach in thick pulses, hole clenching rhythmically around you. The sight, the feel, the sound of his broken whimper—it shoved you over the edge.

You buried yourself to the hilt and came with a low groan, hips stuttering as you filled him. Wave after wave until you were shaking, spent, collapsing half on top of him.

For a minute neither of you moved. Just heavy breathing, sweat cooling on skin, hearts hammering against each other.

Brady let out a soft, wrecked laugh. “Ten seconds my ass.”

You snorted, still buried inside him. “Shut up.”

He tilted his head, kissed you slow this time—lazy, satisfied. “We’re doing that again. Soon.”

You pulled out carefully, both of you hissing at the oversensitivity. You flopped beside him, arm slung across his waist.

“Yeah,” you murmured, already half-drifting. “We are.”

The room was quiet now. Just the hum of the mini-fridge and the distant thump of bass from somewhere down the hall. Brady curled into your side, head on your chest, one leg thrown over yours like he belonged there.

And for the first time all week, finals felt a million miles away.

Date Night - Brady Potter x Male Reader

Plot: On Valentine’s Day, you share an unforgettable romantic evening with your boyfriend Brady, who transforms his apartment into an intimate “Night in Italy” complete with homemade dinner, roses, candles, and chocolate syrup play that leads to passionate, loving sex in the bedroom.

Warnings: 18+ mdni, gay smut

Word Count: 1.72k

Date Night

Valentine’s Day was one of your favorite holidays. There was love in the air, people were nicer and tons of chocolate for you to eat. Every year you had loved V-day even if you were single but this year was different as you had your boyfriend Brady with you.

You and Brady had been dating for 9 months and it was the best 9 months of your life. He was warm, sweet, caring, gentle and respectful. More than any man you had been with in the past.

For this Valentine’s Day Brady had set up an in-home dinner date. Covering his apartment in roses. Italian music playing in the background with candle lighting around the apartment. He had turned the apartment into “A Night In Italy” which was a new high-end restaurant that opened up in California that you guys couldn’t afford.

The night was amazing as Brady took the time to recreate dishes from the menu. Brady wasn’t the best cook but you found his efforts sweet and thoughtful and just off of that trade the food ten times better. The night was amazing and you guys spent the time talking and laughing.

It reminded you as to why you fell in love with him. But the night was far from over as you both made your way to the bedroom. You and Brady engaged in a steamy kissing session. The tension was hot and thick. You both were like feral animals ready to devour each other for dinner.

You unbuttoned Brady’s black button-up to reveal his smooth chiseled abs. He was like smooth vanilla on legs and you needed him now. “Pants off,” Brady commanded. You followed his instruction without taking your eyes off him for a single second.

He slowly unbuckled his belt teasing you for what was about to come. Once you were finished you slowly made your way to his mouth. His soft moist lips felt like pillows the way he kissed you. Causing a fire to spread throughout your body.

“Get on all fours,” Brady patted the bed filled with rose petals for you. You made your way to the spread getting on all fours. You spread your back to expose your tight hole facing Brady.

You were hairless like a baby. Exactly what Brady liked. “Fuck babe,” Brady stepped closer to admire the view before him. He put both of his hands on your cheeks and spread your ass. A wave of air hit your hole causing your hole to pulsate.

“Oh babe. I think it’s ready for me,” Brady said joking causing you to laugh with him. “Well I think you better get to work,” you looked back at Brady over your shoulder and gave him the signal to start.

But before he started he brought out the chocolate syrup that he had snuck from the kitchen. Brady wanted to try something new. He loved chocolate and he loved you so what’s better than combining his worlds.

You had never tried anything with food before during sex and you were against it at one point. But being with Brady opened up your mind to anything. Brady opened up the syrup and squeezed it on both of your butt cheeks.

The syrup was cold and sticky but it didn’t matter because a few seconds later Brady was kissing on your left cheek. Sucking and licking the syrup up like melting ice cream on a cone.

The sensation was amazing as you enjoyed the way his mouth owned you and loved you. “Aw fuck,” you moaned as Brady sucked you. “Fuck baby. You taste so good,” Brady said with a mouthful of chocolate syrup.

The kink that you had once shamed was slowly becoming one that you would embrace. Syrup dripped to your hole and caused Brady to go nuts. His tongue rimmed your hole and plunged in and out of it consecutively for over 5 minutes straight.

High-pitched moans escaped your mouth as Brady drilled you with his tongue. Brady was a beast causing your whole body to move by only having his tongue in you. “Relax baby. I got you,” Brady said as he noticed your body squirming with every movement of his tongue.

He went slowly, circling the rim of your hole. Your nipples hardened and you squeezed them to double your pleasure in the moment. Brady spat on your hole as he took his finger and moved it around your hole.

His saliva coated your hole and left it perfectly glistening. The chocolate all gone from Brady’s eating. Brady unbuckled his pants and tapped his hardened 7-inch dick on your hole several times.

It was his way of preparing you to take him. You bit your lip in anticipation. “You ready baby?” Brady said daringly to you. You gave him a nod of approval as he slid into you.

He treated you like a delicate flower needing time and patience. As Brady slid into you, you felt your hole expanding around his dick. A wave of pleasure and pain came over you.

Brady was constantly rubbing your back and looking at you to make sure you were alright. His affection elevated the moment times ten. You were face down on the bed smelling the roses as Brady opened you.

“It’s so warm baby. I love it,” Brady said to you massaging your hole with his dick. Your moan was your response. “It feels good baby,” you told Brady. His hands rubbed on your thighs sending signals to relax and enjoy him inside you.

Tingles were swarming throughout your entire body. You pushed back on Brady controlling how much of his dick you took inside you. Brady admired your hole wrapped around his dick.

Your hole was like a vacuum sucking Brady’s dick into you. You popped off of his dick causing your hole to gape. It was like a black hole, ready to attract and swallow anything that came near it.

Brady lay on the bed and you began to suck his dick. His length was impressive and was ready to be devoured as he was throbbing for you. “Suck it,” Brady commanded you as he placed his hands behind his head and spread his legs.

You began to feel his member throbbing in your hand. It was a sight to see. You let out a string of spit slowly from your mouth using it as a lubricant for his dick.

You rubbed your spit up and down his shaft coating his meaty member with your saliva. You teased his dick by circling his tip around the edges of your lips. Then you took him deeper, letting your tongue swirl around the sensitive underside while your hand pumped the base in slow, deliberate strokes.

Brady groaned, his hips twitching upward instinctively. “God, you’re so fucking good at that,” he rasped, voice rough with need. You hummed around him in response, the vibration making his abs tighten and his fingers flex against the sheets.

You pulled off with a wet pop, stroking him firmly as you looked up at him through your lashes. “You like watching me?” you asked, voice low and teasing.

“More than anything,” he answered without hesitation. “Keep going, baby. Don’t stop.”

You dove back down, taking him to the back of your throat this time. Brady’s hand found the back of your head—not pushing, just resting there, grounding himself as you worked him with slow, sloppy precision. Saliva dripped down his shaft, pooling at the base, and you used it to stroke him faster while your mouth focused on the head.

After several long minutes of worshiping him with your mouth, Brady gently tugged you up by the shoulders. “Come here,” he murmured, voice thick. “I need to be inside you again.”

You straddled his hips, lining him up. The head of his cock nudged your entrance, still slick and open from earlier. You sank down slowly, inch by inch, until your ass met his thighs. The stretch was perfect—full, intense, exactly what you craved.

Brady’s hands gripped your waist, thumbs brushing soothing circles over your skin. “Ride me,” he whispered. “Take what you want.”

You began to move, rolling your hips in slow, deep circles at first, savoring every drag of him inside you. Then faster, lifting and dropping, the wet sound of skin meeting skin filling the room alongside the soft Italian crooner still playing from the living room.

Brady sat up suddenly, wrapping his arms around your back and pulling you flush against his chest. Your mouths crashed together in a messy, desperate kiss. His tongue mimicked the rhythm of your hips, claiming you in every way possible.

One hand slid down to grip your ass, spreading you wider so he could thrust up harder. The new angle hit that spot inside you that made stars burst behind your eyelids. You cried out against his lips, nails digging into his shoulders.

“That’s it,” Brady growled. “Let me hear you. Let me feel how much you love this.”

You rode him harder, chasing the edge. Sweat slicked your bodies, rose petals sticking to your skin. The scent of chocolate, roses, and sex hung heavy in the air.

Brady’s hand slipped between you, fingers finding your most sensitive spot and rubbing in tight circles. The dual sensation—him filling you, his fingers working you—pushed you over.

You came with a broken moan, clenching around him so tightly that Brady cursed under his breath. His thrusts grew erratic, desperate. “Fuck—I’m close—where do you want it, baby?”

“Inside,” you gasped. “Please, inside me.”

That was all he needed. Brady buried himself deep, hips stuttering as he spilled into you with a long, guttural groan. You felt every pulse, every hot rush, and it prolonged your own aftershocks until you were both trembling.

For a long moment you stayed locked together, breathing hard, foreheads pressed. Brady kissed your temple, your cheek, your lips—soft now, reverent.

“I love you,” he whispered against your skin.

You smiled, boneless and blissed-out. “I love you too.”

He eased you down beside him, pulling you into his arms. The candles still flickered, the music still played, and outside the city hummed on. But in this room, wrapped in rose petals and each other, the rest of the world didn’t exist.

Valentine’s Day had never felt more perfect.

#brady potter