My Favorite
Bradley Uppercrust x Reader
Tw: Making out, a little bit of a toxic relationship but it’s fun, Enemies with Benefits
Note: I NEED THIS MAN SO BADLY RAHHH I HAVE NEVER EVEN WROTE ANYTHING CLOSE TO SMUT BEFORE WHAT IS HE DOING TO ME
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“Bradley!!”
A sharp echo of a voice rang out through the frat house, an annoyed hiss soon followed it, along with the clanging of plastic balls clicking against each other on the pool table.
Damn it. Not even close to a score.
The man bent over the table scoffed, his brows furrowing as he rose with a slow, restrained pace, keeping himself from lashing out at whoever must’ve had the gall to barge in screaming like that.
Well, he says it like it’s a big mystery…but it’s not. He did this song and dance plenty, plenty of times before.
It was (Y/N). One of the Gamma members that has joined of late. It’s funny, almost. They were only a year in, far away from all the other times spent in the fraternity and yet they have been the one to cause the most ruckus.
“Yes??” He hissed out, closing his eyes tight as he braced himself for the inevitable. His voice was a thin dance between silky and charismatic to ragged and harsh. He still had a front to keep up after all.
Sure enough, it was only a moment’s notice before a familiar teammate reeled around the corner, storming into the game room with a skateboard in hand.
Immediately, their nose scrunched up at the foul smell that resigned in the room. It was a sour pungent smell only brought on by the types of men Bradley surrounds himself with. The reek of beer and other substances having been left out to rot, the familiar sting of weed, and the scent of cheap body sprays and deodorants used to mask the scent on the men…yeah, it wasn’t working. Even with the place baron and empty except for the two, (Y/N) can still smell it distinct as ever.
They shook their head, snapping back to focus as they thrusted the board up towards Bradley, brows knitted together and lips pulled back into a sneer. “Mind explaining this??”
Oh, right. That thing. He forgot he asked Tank to do that.
He turned his head around slowly, looking over his shoulder and through his lashes at the board. Sure enough, one of those signature miniature boosters was latched on. “Well…It’s a skateboard. Thought that one would be obvious.”
“Don’t be a smartass.” (Y/N) hissed, cutting straight through his usual bullshit and thrusting the board into his chest as soon as he turned his body to face him. “I told you I don’t want your stupid tools!! You and your fella’s can cheat as much as y’all want, but I told you to keep that shit far away from my board, man!!”
Bradley stumbled backwards as the skateboard basically got dropped on him. The small of his back hitting against the edge of the pool table, the cold making goosebumps run under his skin and his fur frizzing up.
He huffed, annoyance setting into his expression as he gently set the board down–Not out of care of (Y/N)’s possessions but to not scrape or damage the contraband attached to it. “Hey, hey, hey!! Slow your roll, speed racer. What makes you think I’m behind this? The others are just as guilty as I am.” He purred out, his voice coming out in a drawl as he attempted to smooth talk and weasel his way out of the situation.
Not out of any fear or anything–Matter of fact, if it were any other person who pulled the stuff that (Y/N) has, they would’ve been kicked out a long time ago.
So, how were they so special??
Well…
“Don’t give me that. You know it’s you. It’s ALWAYS you!!” (Y/N)’s hand raised to run a hand through their hair, pulling it back away from their head as they felt their face grow hot with anger. “I keep on telling you over and over but you never listen!! You, you–” They huffed, their head turning away as their eyes glazed over the area, falling silent so they could think.
This type of thing had honestly been going on between the two of them ever since (Y/N) joined.
Why had they even joined in the first place?? Well, that was simple.
They were bright-eyed, bushy tailed, and finally free from their family. They were practically starving for excitement and freedom once they got to college only for…nothing to change.
Talking to people or trying to make friends still felt as harsh as chewing on nails, they had come to realize they weren’t as knowledgeable and perfect in their major as they had believed, and they were just…lonely.
Nobody to talk to, nothing to do, there wasn’t much that could excite and distract them from the depressing reality of their situation.
Well…until they remembered that old skateboard in their closet, a dumb little hobby they had back in early highschool back when they had freetime. Turns out, they were still good at it, just as good as they were when they were younger.
Whaddya know?? One thing led to another and they ended up catching the eye of a certain somebody.
They hadn’t much friends–or anyone really–outside of their family so obviously they fell hook, line and sinker for everything he said.
They believed him when he said that they had a talent, they took confidence in his words when he would praise and butter them up, then eventually when he asked for them to be a part of the Gammas…They accepted.
They wanted to believe him, that they were the best of the best and that if they just accepted his offer, they would be successful, happy, and have plenty of friends.
…Then again they can’t say they weren’t charmed by the idea of spending time with the man as well.
Though, they never expected this. They don’t praise themself as a champion or anything but they have more confidence in themself to rely on CHEATS to win.
What’s the point of playing if you’re just doing it to win?
They should’ve left the moment they figured that out…but they didn’t.
They just tried to be as independent from the practices as possible, to keep their morals and their beliefs honest despite their team.
Clearly that wasn’t working.
“Y’know what??” (Y/N) sighed, taking a deep breath as they did. Their voice fell down a few octaves, still upset but now more quiet and resigned. “I quit.”
Bradley perked up, his eyebrows flitting up as his charismatic smile fell. He shot up from the pool table he leaned against, closing the minimal distance between the two. “Ah, care to repeat that?? I don’t believe I heard you correctly. Surely my favorite player isn’t quitting so soon.” His smile returned, though it was a thinner, shakier smile. Neurotic even. That’s how he got when he didn’t have full control.
“You heard me. I’m tired of this, bradley. My boundaries aren’t being respected, I’m not being valued as a person, and I should've quit a long time ago. I’m done.” (Y/N) crossed their arms and turned their head away, refusing to look at him. If they can't see him, they can’t be…motivated to stay.
Bradley’s face darkened. His hands gripped at (Y/N)’s forearms, the pads of his paws pressing against the plush of their skin. The grip was almost desperate if (Y/N) didn’t know better. “You think you can just waltz up in here and quit?? Do you have any idea how much time and effort I–...We’ve invested into you, you ingrate!?”
(Y/N) jerked back, unfamiliar with the harsher treatment. They were familiar with his snide remarks and cold words, but to grip at them like this was a step too far. They’re many things but one thing they’re not is a pushover.
(Y/N) smacked his hand away, watching as he stumbled backwards. “Oh, like it was much.” They snapped, anger bubbling up once again. WHether they liked it or not, this man had a deathgrip on their emotions. “What time?? The time you spent buying gadgets instead of–Oh, I don’t know–Training??”
Bradley’s eye twitched as he backed up…though not for long as he was quick to step forwards again and jab his finger in their chest. “You ungrateful brat!! You have no idea all the time and effort I have spent on you. Now you just want to barge into MY house and quit?! I don’t think so!!” He sneered, his thin lips pulling back to reveal rows of almost fake looking broad white teeth.
“YOU–” He jabbed their chest again, the tip of his finger’s claw dancing over the skin that protected their heartbeat. “–signed that contact. You are mine. You will compete in MY team.”
“You think I’m scared of you?” Truth be told, their heartbeat did spike at the mention of the contract. Fuck. They forgot about that. This guy really loves to cover his tracks, huh??
“Get your finger out of my face.” (Y/N) huffed, smacking his hand away. He didn’t budge. They gritted their teeth, annoyance along with adrenaline building in their chest. Their hand grabbed at his slim wrist, twisting it away from them. It wasn’t nearly as hard as they could’ve gone.
One thing about Bradley is that he isn’t exactly the strongest man. He has Tank do all of his fighting. A pained yelp left him followed by a hitch of his breath, his voice getting higher and cracking as he quickly tried to jerk his hand away. “You tried to put your hands on me!!” His heart rate spiked, though not out of the same adrenaline (Y/N) was feeling.
“Calm down, prissy boy. I barely touched you.”
He did, in fact, not calm down. His other hand shot up, pushing at (Y/N) and being petty in the way that he tried to hurt them back in any way he could. Hitting, trying to grab at their hair, anything.
That lasted for around five minutes before (Y/N) had enough and shoved him back.
His back hit the border of the pool table once more, his breath hitching and a keening wail leaving his lips. God, he could be such a baby sometime. “You–”
(Y/N)’s hands rested against the tops of his own. They weren’t overly cruel or malicious, just caging his hands against the table to stop his tantrum. They looked up at him, their eyes dark with disdain and just…exhaustion. They did this plenty of times before, they were not impressed by anything he would weasel.
Yeah…He thinks he can start to remember why he keeps them around.
It should be humiliating being treated like this. Someone as high on the social ladder as him, someone who has crazy “Fuck you” money that makes all his problems disappear. He should hate it…but he doesn’t.
If anything, he revels in it. He revels in them. It’s the role they fulfill that makes them so special to him, why they are his favorite player. Dare he say, he likes the opposition they bring. It contrasts nicely with the yes men he is surrounded with.
He swallowed thickly, voice cracking and a raspy whimper leaving his throat as a shaky smile pulled at his lips. “D’aww, C’mon now, you didn't mean all that hullabaloo earlier. You love us and we love you.” He maintained his mask, getting back into his collected and cool persona. He wriggled his hands free, slipping them away to instead drape over (Y/N)’s shoulders. A shit-eating grin pulled at his lips as he toyed and played with the hairs at the end of their neck.
“It was just a small slip up, nothing to get all bent out of shape over. It won’t happen again.” His gaze darted down towards their lips. He darted his eyes away as soon as they landed there. “What was it you wanted? Respect? Fiine, I respect ya’. You’re my equal.”
He pulled them forwards, holding his breath at the way they looked, lurched over the table with their hands on either side of him for stability. His grin widened as he saw their expression falter and their head turning to look away. The good ol’ sweet talk never fails.
“I’m sorry for lashing out but y’know I can’t be without my favorite player. Imagine how lonely and boring that would be for me.” His grin stretched wider.
(Y/N) swallowed thickly, their face burning hot. “Stop that.” They grumbled. “Don’t do this again…” They wanted to stay strong this time. They were drawing their line in the sand.
Bradley just continued, feigning innocence all the while. “Do what?? I’m just sitting here.” He hummed, rubbing the pad of his thumb along the nape of their neck. He melted at the soft warm skin, the feeling only toppled by the way (Y/N) stumbled, their hands now resting on his waist for stability. He felt a lump build up in his throat. “Careful there, friend. Getting too close for comfort.” His nails raked against the back of their neck. He seemed a lot more comfortable in this position than he was letting on.
“Shut up…” (Y/N) muttered, making the mistake of looking down at the man under them.
…Dammit, there was no reason that he had to look so good. This was about humbling him and putting their foot down, not about—Whatever he was trying to spin this into.
…Wait a minute.
A lightbulb sparked in their head…If they were even still thinking with their head at this point.
“Make me–” Bradley’s tease was the last thing they needed. In a matter of seconds they ahd given in and let the intrusive thoughts win, crashing their lips against his own.
Oh, wow. He was surprisingly soft.
The hands in their hair tensed and stiffened, an emasculated whine leaving his lips as his eyes shot open. His brain felt foggy, his temple throbbing with the pounding of his heart, adrenaline pushing through his veins and making him feel unable to stay still. He couldn’t help but squirm like the silly little guy he was underneath them…only for a flat palm to press against his abdomen pushing him back down on the table.
Oh, fuck, fuckfuckfuck–
“Mmh…” His eyes fluttered short, him melting underneath the warm, firm body. His hands tightened their grip, clinging onto their hair for dear life before trailing down to grasp at the sides of their face. He pushed forwards, breaking through the barrier and slipping his tongue in their mouth. A humiliating, breathless groan left his lips. God, it was so warm. They were so warm. He needed them. He didn’t care how messy, sloppy, or desperate he probably looked and acted like right now.
He broke away from the kiss, only a hair's breadth away from their lips, his breath fanning over their skin with his brow caked in sweat and his eyes half lidded, heavy with need.
His hands fell down once more, nails raking down their back as he took a minute, breathing heavy and ragged as he had to strain himself to collect all his thoughts into a garbled sentence.
“C’mon…I-If yer’ gonna do it, just get it over with. Y’know you’re my favorite player, right? C’mon, please—“
Bingo. (Y/N) couldn’t help but let their lips stretch out into an uncontrollably broad grin. They took much pleasure in pulling away from him, savoring the weak plaintive cry that left him and how he lurched forwards as if his lips were chasing theirs.
They stepped back, their chest feeling tight and their heart claustrophobic as they saw him sprawled out on the pool table, hands clasping on either side of himself, nails digging into the thin red fabric. His hair was mussied, sweat dripped from his face with his shirt loosened and falling down. They almost gave in right there.
“On second thought…maybe another time.”
Though, seeing that helpless look on his face mixed with sexual frustration and a very offended look was almost just as sweet. It was a small win but a win nonetheless.
…
“I…” Bradley heaved out. “God, I hate them..”
