#lamelo imagine

[v6quewrlds]

GAMES, LAMELO BALL.

pairing⠀⁎⠀lamelo ball x reader. word count⠀⁎⠀2.7k.

summary⠀⁎⠀fed up with lamelo's games, you take matters into your own hands. enlisting the help of your friend, you don't think you've ever seen melo this mad.

author's note⠀⁎⠀it's finally here! started as a blurb but i couldn't help myself warnings⠀⁎⠀18+ mdni, language, slight degradation if you squint, backshots <333, toxic dynamics bc why not.

Players dotted the court, the squeaking of sneakers peeking out from polyester warmups and the dribble of basketballs echoing off the gleaming hardwood. A pattern of murmurs underscored the arena's sound system playing a random assortment of Hot 100 hits. The crowd was a sea of buzzing anticipation, waiting for the home team to take the floor. Her eyes fixed on the court as she nervously picked at the hem of her leather jacket. The hand slung over her shoulder felt heavy, a silent statement aimed at the man pacing the sidelines, his tall figure stretching the fabric of his team-issued sweatsuit.

Bryce's fingers drummed a casual beat on the armrest, his eyes scanning the rows of seats as if he could feel the weight of Lamelo's glare from across the court. He knew the situation was complicated, but the way she had talked about him made it seem like the kind of drama that came with a side of entertainment rather than the kind that could ruin friendships. He offered a gentle squeeze, whispering, "You okay?"

She nodded, flashing him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I don't know how he'll react," she murmured, her gaze finally meeting his. "He's a hothead but I had to do something. I can't just let him think he can treat me however he wants."

The lights dimmed and the crowd roared as the starting lineup was announced. When Lamelo's name boomed through the speakers, she felt his eyes on her, and she looked up, meeting his gaze. His expression was a thundercloud of irritation, but she only raised an eyebrow and turned back to the introductions. The ball was tipped off, and the players began to dance around the court in a mesmerizing display of athleticism. Despite the tension simmering between her and Lamelo, she couldn't help but get swept up in the excitement of the game.

She loved basketball, had always loved it. Her heart pounded in sync with the thumping of the ball and the sneakers, each beat a silent countdown to the moment when she'd have to face the 6'7" point guard at the end of the night. Every point, every assist, his eyes were on her, brown eyes storming across the court, and she knew he was playing the best game of his life to prove something.

Each time the ball swished through the net, she clapped politely, turning to laugh with Bryce at his quips about the game. She played the part, smiling and turning her face away when the announcer shouted Bryce out, the jumbotron zooming in on their little VIP section, the spotlight momentarily blinding her. She smiled to herself, preening as she watched Lamelo shake his head, his jaw tightening as he threw a towel over his head during a time-out.

From her spot at the edge of the court, she could feel his anger stewing, thick and palpable in the air. The crowd's roars only fed the fire burning in Lamelo's eyes. With just her presence, she was pushing his buttons, and she knew it. Twisted satisfaction made everything else fade away, leaving her witness to Lamelo's show for one.

She blinked out of her thoughts as the final buzzer rang out, the roar of the crowd signaling victory for the Charlotte Hornets. The players on the bench leaped to their feet, slapping palms with their teammates, and the arena lights flashed in a celebratory frenzy. Lamelo looked at her, his gaze hot with a mix of anger and desire. She felt victorious, her nerves tingling as she stood, smoothing her outfit before following Bryce off the court.

"Melo was fuming," Bryce laughed as they made their way through the crowded arena, the sweet scent of victory mingling with popcorn and sweat. She couldn't help but smirk at the thought of the frustration simmering under the point guard's skin.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out to read the message from Lamelo: "You had fun?" She showed the text to Bryce, who chuckled lowly. "You're evil," he teased, shaking his head. They walked through the crowded hallways, dodging high-fives and autograph seekers.

Bryce eagerly fed her lines in the car, eyes lighting up as she parroted his words back to Lamelo whose anger was palpable through the phone screen. She knew it was childish, riling her hot-headed boyfriend - who wasn't quite her boyfriend - up like that, but she couldn’t resist the appeal of the power play. The thrill of it was addictive, the rush of knowing she was the only one who could get under his skin like this.

"What did he even do?" Bryce asked, navigating the car through the post-game traffic. The headlights painted the street with a strobe of light and shadow, casting a rhythmic pattern on the dashboard.

Her eyes didn't leave her phone screen. "It's complicated," she replied, her thumbs flying over the screen as she texted back. She didn't need to go into details with Bryce; he knew the dance she and Lamelo had been doing for months. "But he's being a dumbass and I need him to cut that shit out."

Bryce chuckled, keeping his eyes on the road. "Is that new? That's like his whole thing."

She rolled her eyes but couldn't hold back a laugh. "Yeah, well, it's getting old. He can be a dumbass, just not to me." The car pulled up to her apartment complex, the headlights bouncing off the shiny chrome of the parked vehicles.

She practically bounced out of the car, the adrenaline from the game and the anticipation of the confrontation to come coursing through her veins. As she crossed the threshold of her apartment, Lamelo's frustration had finally spilled over. She could almost hear the odium in his tone through the message: "Leave the door unlocked. I'm coming over."

Her heart fluttered, a mix of excitement and nerves. She knew what that meant, and she knew she had him exactly where she wanted him. She threw her keys onto the kitchen counter with a clatter, the sound bouncing off the walls of the small space. The seconds melted into minutes and soon she could hear the sound of his footsteps outside of her front door, heavy and deliberate. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the storm she had invited in.

The door swung open, revealing Lamelo, his jaw set in a firm line, his eyes smoldering. He stepped into the apartment, his presence immediately making the space feel smaller. she stood just a few paces from him, arms crossed, lips parted slightly in a silent dare. The air between them crackled with unspoken words and unresolved tension.

Then he was everywhere. Hands setting fire to her skin, his mouth claiming hers in a kiss that was as punishing as it was passionate. Her heart raced as she felt the weight of his body pushing her back onto the couch. His fingers found the nape of her neck, tugging her head back to give him better access to her throat. His teeth grazed her skin, sending shivers down her spine.

"You thought that shit was funny?" He growled against her neck, his breath hot and minty. Her pulse sped up as his grip tightened. She didn't respond, enjoying the way his anger bubbled over into something else, something that made her feel vindicated. His hands roamed over her body, his touch demanding and possessive.

Her head spun, dizzy with desire as he pushed her jacket off her shoulders, the leather whispering against the fabric of her shirt. His eyes searched hers, looking for something she wasn’t quite ready to give.

She was face down, moaning into her sheets before she realized she was no longer dressed. His right hand was pressed firm into the small of her back, his left gripping her hip, his hips moving with a rhythm that was more punishment than pleasure. His breath was hot and heavy in her ears as he raved, making his distaste known with every thrust. Her eyes squeezed shut, her nails digging into the comforter, her body trembling with every hit of painful ecstasy.

"Feel good?" Lamelo taunted, his voice a gruff whisper in her ear. Her body arched upward, a silent plea for more. He didn't need an answer; he knew he had her where he wanted her. His grip on her tightened, his movements more urgent. The anger in his eyes had morphed into something primal, something that made her crave his touch even more.

A loud smack echoed through the room as Lamelo's hand met her bare skin. The sound reached her ears before the searing pain melted into white-hot pleasure. A strangled moan erupted from the back of her throat, whimpers escaping her clenched teeth as she felt him swell inside her. The headboard banged against the wall in time with their frantic pace, the sound a punctuation to their silent argument.

"You couldn't keep your hands off him, huh?" Lamelo's voice was a low growl, his grip tightening. "You liked making me mad? Showing up with him? After I told you…" He didn't finish the sentence, but the unspoken words hung heavy in the air.

"Fuck," he huffed, pulling her back against his harder. She could feel his muscles flex against her, his body demanding a response she couldn't refuse. The heat of his skin was a stark contrast to the cool air in her apartment, the intensity of their encounter leaving no room for anything else.

"You had all that shit to say earlier, but now you're just taking it," he murmured, his voice a mix of disbelief and arousal. "Taking dick like you can't get enough." She was sure if she turned to look at him, his face would be flushed with heat. But she couldn't bring herself to move away, couldn't argue, couldn't bite back, couldn't protest. Instead, she pushed back, urging him deeper, her body speaking louder than any words could.

"You don't got something to say?" He scoffed, the smack of skin on skin resonating through the room. Her face warmed, but she kept her eyes squeezed shut, feeling his weight on top of her, his length moving in and out with a force that left her trembling.

"Aight then," he said with a smug satisfaction, his strokes slowing to a more deliberate, controlled pace. "Just remember," he whispered, his voice low and menacing, "I'm the only one who can make you feel like this."

She whimpered at the words, clenching her fists tighter into the fabric of the bed. "Harder," she finally managed to breathe out. The tension between them was a live wire, sparking and crackling, and she felt the electricity in every cell of her body.

"Harder?" Lamelo repeated, a smirk playing on his lips. "Do it yourself, fuck yourself harder." He let go of her hip, and she immediately missed the heat of his hand. But she didn't hesitate, pushing her hips back to meet his thrusts, setting the pace she desired. The headboard continued to bang against the wall, each hit punctuating the unspoken truth of their power dynamics.

"Yes, fuck, oh," her breath hitched as Lamelo's fingers found the plush flesh of her ass, kneading the skin as she continued to fuck herself back onto him. The smack of flesh meeting flesh grew louder, the sound of their bodies colliding echoing through the apartment. Her cheeks were flushed, her breath coming in ragged gasps, and she could feel her orgasm building, a crescendo of pleasure that she knew would be explosive.

Lamelo's hand slid from her hip to the base of her neck, his grip firm as he pulled her up to meet his thrusts. "Look at me," he demanded, his voice a mix of anger and lust. Her eyes fluttered open, meeting his intense gaze. The fire in his eyes didn't just burn for her, it was fueled by the rage of a man who felt scorned.

Her back pressed against his firm chest as her hips stuttered back against him. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes locked with his. She didn't dare look away, didn't dare miss a beat of their silent battle. "You think I would do this to you? Show up with some other girl?" he muttered, shaking his head 'no' to answer his own question. "You tryna play games, that's fine, but you know who you belong to."

With that, he pushed into her harder, his grip on her neck tightening. His breath was ragged, his eyes wild, and she could feel the pulse of his cock thicken even more inside her. Her eyes glazed over with desire, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts that she couldn't quite piece together. She couldn't seem to catch her breath as his teeth nipped at the exposed skin of her neck, his tongue tracing a wet line to her ear.

"You're mine," he grunted, his voice thick with passion. "Say it." Her eyes squeezed shut, her voice strained. "I'm yours," she murmured, the words leaving her mouth on a breathless sigh.

Their rhythm grew erratic, the force of his thrusts increasing with each passing second. His fingers dug into her hips, holding her in place as he claimed her body with a ferocity that was both terrifying and thrilling. She could feel his heart pounding against her back, his breath hot and fast in her ear. The sound of his grunts and her moans filled the room, a symphony of desire and dominance that seemed to shake the very walls.

Her climax approached like a runaway train, the pressure building until she couldn't contain it anymore. She almost screamed his name as she came, her body spasming around his. He followed soon after, his release a powerful wave that seemed to crash over both of them, leaving them gasping and trembling.

She shivered as she fell forward onto the mattress, skin pebbling as he left her side to dispose of his condom. The room was silent except for the sound of their heavy breathing, the headboard slowly coming to a stop against the wall. The tension in the air was thick and palpable, like a fog that had rolled in off the court and settled in the quiet corners of her apartment.

When he returned, she could feel him pulling her into his chest, hands rubbing over her skin, bringing warmth to the goosebumps that had formed in the chill. She didn't resist, letting her body relax into his. His touch was gentle now, almost tender, a stark contrast to the anger that had fueled their encounter. "I'm sorry," he murmured against her hair, his breath warm and even. "I didn't mean to…"

"You're fine," she mumbled, her voice muffled by the crook of his neck. "Just give me a second." She sighed, her chest rising and falling with the effort to regain her composure.

"You know I had to do something about you," she laughed when she finally came down from her high, her words muffled by his skin. She felt his hand smooth down her back, his touch calming the storm of emotions that raged within her.

"Yeah, I know," Lamelo said, his voice gruff. "But Bryce?"

She huffed with a sly roll of her eyes. "I already told you, he's just a friend." She felt Lamelo's arms tighten around her slightly, his grip possessive even in apology. "Maybe if you would listen to me instead of assuming…"

"I know, my bad," Lamelo murmured, his hand rubbing gentle circles into her back. The tension in his body slowly dissipated, his breaths evening out as his heart rate returned to normal. "But you gotta understand, when I see you with him…"

She sat up. "You're not the only one with pride, Melo," she said, her voice firm but not unkind. "You think I don't get jealous when you're out with all those groupies throwing themselves at you?"

Lamelo's hand stilled on her back. "They don't mean anything," he said, his voice gruff.

"Then neither does Bryce," she said. "But you know what does? This. Us." She leaned in, pressing her lips to his in a kiss that was gentle yet firm, a declaration of her intentions. "I'm not fighting you on this again. We're either together, or we're not."

Lamelo's eyes searched hers, his expression softening. He nodded, leaning in to kiss her again, this time with a gentle urgency that made her heart swell. "No more games. I'm all in," he murmured, his thumb stroking her cheek.

[goldfades]

VALENTINE'S DAY ───── LAMELO BALL

free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine | FREE PALESTINE!

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 2k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | lamelo is never quiet type, and it extends to your relationship — because that's just who he is, and how he shows his love. this is how your valentine's day always goes.

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | lamelo being the best bf ever, and just fluffy stuff!

Every year, without fail, LaMelo Ball made Valentine’s Day his personal stage. It wasn’t just a day; it was an event. No matter what was going on—road games, media obligations, team practices—he always found a way to make sure you felt like the center of his universe.

The first time it happened, you thought it was a fluke. A ridiculous, over-the-top, early-relationship flex. You had barely been together for a few months when he sent a massive bouquet of roses—three dozen, deep red, wrapped in sleek black paper—to your apartment at exactly midnight. It came with a note in his messy, looping handwriting: First Valentine’s. Not the last.

By the second year, it became clear that this wasn’t just some honeymoon-phase thing. Because this time, it was an even bigger arrangement—lilies, peonies, and the same signature roses, towering in a glass vase you were pretty sure could double as a fish tank. That, and a diamond bracelet, which he clasped around your wrist himself with the type of satisfaction that said, Yeah, I did that.

The third year, you didn’t even try to act surprised when he went even bigger. It was just how he loved—bold, unfiltered, and grand.

And now, another Valentine’s was here.

You woke up to the first sign of it: the soft ding of a text notification. Still half-asleep, you reached for your phone, eyes squinting at the brightness of the screen.

Melo 💕 Morning, Valentine. Be ready by 7.

You exhaled a quiet laugh, already knowing what that meant. Because this wasn’t just a dinner reservation or a casual date. When LaMelo said “be ready,” he meant something’s coming, and it’s coming big.

You stretched, blinking up at the ceiling as the weight of his text settled in. Be ready by 7. No further explanation. No details. Just that.

But you already knew how this would go.

You swung your legs over the bed, running a hand through your hair as you sat up. The apartment was quiet, save for the soft hum of the heater kicking in. Outside, the city still felt half-asleep, the early morning light filtering in through your curtains in muted golds and grays.

And then—ding. Another text.

Melo 💕 Check the door.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the way your lips curled into a smile as you climbed out of bed, padding toward the front door. There was no need to check the peephole. You already knew what would be waiting on the other side.

When you pulled it open, the scent hit you first—sweet, floral, overwhelming in the best way.

There, standing proudly on your doorstep, was the kind of bouquet that would put entire wedding arrangements to shame. A mix of your favorites—full-bloom peonies, creamy garden roses, white orchids threaded between delicate baby’s breath, the kind of bouquet that looked like it belonged in the lobby of a five-star hotel rather than sitting outside your apartment door.

Tucked neatly between the stems was a black envelope, your name scrawled across the front in his signature handwriting. You already knew what it would say before you even opened it.

For my Valentine, You already know what today is. Get ready. —Melo ♡

You shook your head, laughing softly. Same Melo. Always.

But that was the thing about him. He didn’t just say he loved you—he made it felt like an undeniable fact, like the sky being blue or the sun rising every morning.

You pulled the bouquet inside carefully, placing it on the counter before heading toward your bathroom. If you had any hope of making it through whatever he had planned tonight, you needed to start getting ready now.

By the time the evening rolled around, the anticipation sat in your chest like static—warm, buzzing, something you couldn't quite shake.

You stood in front of your mirror, adjusting the clasp of your necklace. The dress he sent over fit like it had been made for you—because, knowing him, it probably had been. It was elegant but understated, the type of effortless glamour Melo always liked on you.

As if on cue, your phone vibrated on the counter.

Melo 💕 I’m outside.

With one last glance in the mirror, you grabbed your clutch and headed out.

When you stepped into the crisp night air, the first thing you saw was the car—a sleek black Rolls-Royce, engine humming low and steady like it had been idling there for a while.

And then, there was him.

LaMelo stood next to the car, leaning against the hood with his arms crossed, watching you. His chain caught the glow of the streetlights, and he was wearing that easy, knowing smirk—the one that told you he knew he had outdone himself again.

“You look good, baby,” he murmured as you stepped closer. His eyes dragged over you, slow and deliberate. “Like, real good.”

Your lips curved. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”

He chuckled, shaking his head before stepping forward, his hands finding your waist with the kind of ease that came from years of muscle memory. “You ready?”

You tilted your head. “Do I get any hints this time? Or are we sticking to the whole ‘mystery’ thing?”

Melo hummed, pretending to think about it. Then, with a grin, he pressed a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Nah. You’ll see.”

And with that, he opened the car door, the night stretching ahead like a promise.

You slid into the car, the scent of his cologne already wrapped thick in the air—something deep and smooth, a little woody, something that smelled expensive in the way Melo always did. The seats were buttery soft against your skin, and the hum of the engine felt impossibly steady beneath you, like the entire night was resting in the palm of his hand.

Melo climbed in next to you, one hand on the steering wheel, the other stretching across the center console to rest on your thigh like it belonged there. He always did that. A quiet reassurance. A you’re here, I’m here, that’s all that matters.

"Comfortable?" he asked, shooting you a quick glance, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips.

You ran a hand along the sleek leather of the seat, already knowing that whatever destination he had in mind, it was going to be as excessive as always. "Do I ever have a choice with you?"

He grinned at that. “Nope.”

The car pulled off smoothly, gliding onto the road with the kind of ease that came from Melo’s particular brand of living—never rushed, always in control, like everything was happening exactly how he wanted it to.

Outside, the city lights flickered past in a blur, neon signs and warm streetlights stretching across the skyline like scattered constellations. You stole a glance at him, the glow of the dashboard casting soft shadows over his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw, the relaxed set of his mouth.

LaMelo Ball, for all his flash and extravagance, was surprisingly quiet in moments like these. He never felt the need to fill silences with small talk, never rushed to explain himself. He let things breathe. And maybe that was why, even when he was spoiling you to the point of ridiculousness, it never felt performative. It was just him.

You let the silence linger for a beat before finally breaking it. “So, where are we going?”

Melo exhaled a laugh, shaking his head as he drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. “Always with the questions.”

You shot him a look. “You can’t drop off a thousand-dollar bouquet at my door, send me a dress, pick me up in this—” you gestured to the ridiculously luxurious car— “and not expect me to be curious.”

He hummed, eyes still on the road. "You’ll see."

"You keep saying that," you muttered, crossing your arms.

He grinned, clearly entertained. “And yet, here you are. Still in the car. Still trusting me.”

You hated that he was right.

But it wasn’t long before you started to get an idea of where he was taking you. The roads shifted, the city lights fading into something quieter, more private. When the car slowed, your brows furrowed.

This wasn’t a restaurant.

This wasn’t some exclusive, celebrity-packed dining spot with a three-month waitlist.

This was—

“Melo,” you started, eyes widening as you took in the familiar gated entrance, the dimly lit pathway leading up to an impossibly grand rooftop setup. “Did you—?”

He only smirked as he pulled the car to a smooth stop, throwing it in park before turning to you fully.

“You like it?” he asked, a certain boyish pride lacing his voice.

Like it?

Your gaze swept over the setup visible through the open terrace doors—hundreds of twinkling string lights draped from above, the soft glow of candles flickering against crisp white table linens, a private chef already setting up by the terrace’s edge. The city skyline stretched endlessly in the background, hazy and golden in the distance.

It was perfect. It was ridiculous. It was him.

“Melo,” you whispered, still stunned.

He let out a small chuckle, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “I figured we’ve done the whole restaurant thing enough. Wanted to switch it up.”

You turned to him, still trying to process it all. “You booked out an entire rooftop just to ‘switch it up’?”

He shrugged, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Yeah.”

The simplicity of it made your chest ache. Because this was how he loved—loud, effortless, like the world was his to shape and all he wanted to do was carve a space for you in it.

You let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head. “You’re insane, you know that?”

Melo’s grin softened into something fonder, something quieter. “Maybe.” Then, with a tilt of his head, “Come on. Let me show you.”

The night unraveled in golden moments.

Dinner was perfect. The kind of perfect that made your chest feel full, warm. The chef had prepared a menu tailored specifically to the things Melo knew you loved—seared scallops with that buttery sauce you were obsessed with, truffle pasta that melted on your tongue, a dessert that felt almost too beautiful to eat.

Halfway through the meal, you caught Melo watching you, chin resting lazily in his palm, amusement flickering in his gaze.

“What?” you asked, setting your fork down.

He shook his head, lips twitching. “Nothin’. You’re just cute when you’re happy.”

Your face warmed instantly. “Oh my God, shut up.”

He laughed, leaning back in his chair, one hand stretching across the table to toy with your fingers. “Nah. Just facts.”

And then there was the gift.

Because, of course, there was always a gift.

You were halfway through your glass of wine when he slid a small velvet box onto the table, completely casual, as if he was passing you the salt.

You stared at it. “Melo.”

“What?” he said, ever-so-innocent.

“You did not.”

He arched a brow. “You gon’ open it, or you just gon’ keep yellin’ at me?”

Your heart pounded as you reached for the box, flipping it open with careful fingers.

Inside, nestled against plush velvet, was a necklace.

Not just any necklace—the necklace. The one you had pointed out months ago in passing, barely thinking twice about it, assuming it would be just another one of those it’s pretty, but it’s too much moments.

But Melo had remembered.

You looked up at him, eyes soft, stunned.

“LaMelo,” you murmured. “How did you—?”

He only smirked, already reaching over to take it from the box. “Turn around.”

You swallowed, doing as he said, heart stuttering as he gently brushed your hair aside. The metal was cool against your skin, the weight of it settling perfectly as he clasped it into place.

When you turned back around, he was already watching you, gaze flickering between your eyes and the necklace, as if making sure it belonged there.

You exhaled, shaking your head with a small, overwhelmed laugh. “You’re unbelievable.”

Melo grinned, leaning forward, his voice low, teasing. “And yet, here you are. Still trusting me.”

And just like that, you knew—he had won. Again.

[solvyn]

all eyes on you - l.ball

summary: after a jealous at the club, lamelo leads you to a private bathroom where he passionately reminds you that you're the only one he wants word count: 2.2k warnings: jealousy, cocky melo!!, smut - unprotected p in v

the club was buzzing with energy, but all you could focus on was lamelo, who had been by your side all night. his presence was magnetic, and you felt the attention of everyone around you, but it didn’t bother you. not until she came into the picture.

you’d noticed her from the moment she entered the club. she wasn’t doing anything overtly wrong—just laughing too loud, trying too hard to catch lamelo’s eye. but the way she kept looking at him, the way she leaned in a little too close when she spoke, had something stirring in your chest that you couldn’t quite shake.

melo was in his usual element, laughing with his teammates, but you could tell he was aware of her too. he always had that easy confidence, and even though he wasn’t showing it outwardly, you knew what was happening. he could feel her eyes on him, just like you could. it didn’t help that she was leaning in, her fingers grazing his arm as she said something that made him laugh louder than normal.

you tried to focus on something else, but you couldn’t ignore the way your chest tightened at the sight. you told yourself it was nothing. that it didn’t matter. but it did. the jealousy twisted in your stomach, and the longer you watched them, the more unsettled you became.

finally, melo excused himself from the group and made his way over to you, his confident stride cutting through the crowd. his eyes immediately found you, scanning your face with that sharp, knowing look. he knew something was off.

you tried to play it cool, turning your attention back to your drink, but he didn’t let you hide for long.

“hey,” he said, his voice smooth, as he leaned in, brushing his fingers against your cheek in that way that made you feel like you were the only one in the room. his eyes narrowed slightly, as if he could sense what was going on. “What’s wrong, mama?”

you forced a smile, trying to act casual. “nothing. i’m fine.”

but he wasn’t buying it. his eyes followed yours for a second, and when they landed on the girl who had been so damn persistent, his lips curled into a knowing grin.

“you jealous?” he asked, the tease evident in his voice.

your breath caught, and you tried to laugh it off. “i’m not jealous.”

but melo’s grin only widened, clearly seeing through your act. he reached for your hand, tugging you gently closer, his fingers tightening around yours as if to remind you just who you belonged to. “you don’t have to be. i’m already yours, baby.”

he leaned in, his lips brushing your ear. “i saw how she was looking at me. doesn’t bother you, does it? ‘cause you’re the only one who’s got my attention.”

the possessiveness in his voice made your heart race, the jealousy melting into something much more intense. lamelo wasn’t the type to leave things unsaid, and right now, the way he was holding you, the way he was looking at you, made it clear—you were the one who had his attention, not her.

his eyes locked with yours again, the playful smirk still tugging at his lips. “but if you want me to show her... just how much i’m yours, i will.” he brushed his lips over your cheek, his breath warm against your skin.

you met his gaze, feeling that heat between you both, that unspoken understanding that no one else could have him, no matter how much they tried. you didn’t have to say a word.

lamelo’s hand slid to the small of your back, guiding you toward the dance floor, his presence dominating the space between you. “let’s show them who i'm with, huh?” he murmured, his lips just barely brushing your ear as he led you through the crowd.

and as the music pulsed around you, you realized something—melo was never leaving your side, not for anyone. the way he held you close, the way he made you feel like you were the only one in his world, erased all the doubt in your mind. you’re the one he wants.

and tonight, you were going to make sure everyone knew it.

lamelo’s hand stayed firmly on your back, guiding you through the crowd with ease, the music vibrating through the club as he led you to the centre of the dance floor. he didn’t look around, didn’t give a second glance to anyone else. his eyes were locked on you, every step, every movement all about making sure you knew you were his focus.

when you finally reached the center of the floor, he spun you into him, his hands resting on your waist as he pulled you close. you could feel the heat radiating off his body, the rhythm of his movements perfectly in sync with yours as the beat of the music slowed. his gaze was steady, almost intense, as if he was reading you, figuring out exactly what you needed in that moment.

you could feel the weight of the jealousy still lingering in your chest, but as his fingers brushed the curve of your hip, all those feelings started to fade. melo had a way of making you forget everything around you, his confidence a blanket of security that you couldn’t help but fall into.

“you good now?” he asked, his voice low as his lips brushed against the shell of your ear.

you nodded, trying to push away the remnants of that unease. "yeah… i just didn’t like seeing her all over you," you admitted, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

melo chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through your chest as he pulled you even closer, his body now pressed against yours. “baby, she was nothing. i was only looking at you. you know that.” he emphasised the last part with a slight squeeze to your waist, and you couldn’t deny the way your body responded to his touch, the warmth flooding you, melting away the last traces of doubt.

he leaned down, his lips brushing against your neck as his hand slid around to your back, holding you tighter. "but if you need me to remind you…" he whispered, his breath hot against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. "i will. no one else matters, baby. you’re the one i’m with, you’re the one i’m taking home tonight."

his words were like fire, and the heat between you two spiked. you wanted to pull him in, wanted to close the distance completely, but the way he was teasing you, playing this slow, intentional game, had you on edge in the best way possible.

as you moved together, the tempo of the song picking up, lamelo’s lips brushed against your jaw, his grin now bordering on playful but still holding that confident edge. "you jealous? you don’t have to be. you know you’re the one that’s got me wrapped around your finger, right?"

your breath caught, his fingers sliding dangerously close to the curve of your back as he brought you even closer, pressing his lips to yours for a brief, almost teasing kiss. he pulled away just enough to look into your eyes, his expression smug but soft all at once.

he wasn’t going to let you forget. melo was making it clear: he was yours. and the way he was holding you, the way he made the world fall away when he kissed you, told you everything you needed to know.

“show them what's yours, mama,” he murmured, his voice laced with a playful command that sent a rush of heat through you.

and with that, you pressed your lips to his, the taste of him intoxicating as his arms wrapped around you, the music, the club, everyone else fading into the background. the only thing that mattered was lamelo, and right now, he was making damn sure you knew you were the only one in his world.

you deepened the kiss, your hands exploring the hard planes of his chest, feeling the heat of his body through his shirt. he responded with a low growl, his hands sliding down to cup your ass, pulling you against him so you could feel the effect you had on him.

the music pulsed around you, the beat matching the rhythm of your hearts as the kiss grew more intense. his tongue teased yours, his lips demanding and hungry. you could feel the desire coiling in your belly, the need for him growing with each passing second.

suddenly, melo pulled away, his breath ragged as he looked into your eyes. "c'mon," he said, his voice rough with desire. he took your hand, leading you off the dance floor and through the crowd. you followed him, your heart pounding with anticipation as he led you down a dimly lit hallway, past the vip section, and towards a private bathroom.

he pushed open the door, pulling you inside before locking it behind him. the bathroom was elegant, with soft lighting and a large mirror reflecting your flushed faces. melo wasted no time, pushing you gently against the cool tile wall, his body pressing against yours as he captured your lips in another searing kiss.

his hands roamed your body, sliding under your top to caress your skin. you gasped as his fingers brushed against the lace of your bra, your nipples hardening under his touch. he smiled against your lips, his fingers teasing you through the thin material before sliding around to unclasp your bra.

you tugged at his shirt, needing to feel his skin against yours. he helped you, pulling it off and tossing it aside before doing the same with your top. his eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, his gaze lingering on your breasts before he leaned down to capture one nipple in his mouth.

you moaned, your head falling back against the wall as he teased you with his tongue and teeth. his hands slid down to your hips, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your skirt. he tugged it down, along with your panties, leaving you naked and exposed before him.

he stood back for a moment, his eyes roaming over your body, the heat in his gaze sending a shiver of desire through you. "you're so fucking beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with need. he unbuckled his belt, his eyes never leaving yours as he pushed down his jeans and boxers, freeing himself.

he stepped closer, his body pressing against yours as he captured your lips in another deep kiss. you could feel him, hard and hot against your stomach, and you reached down, wrapping your hand around him. he groaned, his hips thrusting into your touch as he deepened the kiss.

he pulled away, his breath ragged as he looked into your eyes. "turn around," he whispered, his voice rough with desire. you complied, turning to face the wall, your hands bracing against the cool tile.

he moved behind you, his hands sliding over your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh. you could feel him pressing against you, teasing you as he leaned down to kiss your neck. "tell me what you want, baby," he murmured, his voice low and seductive.

you pushed back against him, a soft moan escaping your lips. "i want you, melo," you whispered, your voice thick with need. "i want you inside me."

he groaned, his grip on your hips tightening as he slowly pushed into you. you gasped, your fingers digging into the tile as he filled you, stretching you, his body pressing against yours. he started to move, his hips thrusting against you as he set a slow, steady rhythm.

the sound of your bodies coming together filled the room, your moans and his groans echoing off the walls. he leaned down, his lips finding your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he picked up the pace, his body moving against yours with urgency and need.

you could feel the pleasure building, your body tensing as he drove into you, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "melo," you gasped, your voice barely a whisper as you neared the edge.

"that's it, baby," he murmured, his voice rough and low. "come for me. let me hear you."

and with a final thrust, you came undone, your body convulsing around him as waves of pleasure washed over you. he groaned, his hips moving faster as he chased his own release, his body tensing as he came, your name a low growl on his lips.

he slowed, his body pressing against yours as he caught his breath. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close as he kissed your neck softly. "i'm yours, baby," he murmured, his voice soft and gentle. "only yours."

and in that moment, with his arms wrapped around you, his body still pressed against yours, you knew he was right. you were his, and he was yours. and nothing else mattered.

[melosgirl]

boyfriend!lamelo ball headcannons

his love languages are physical touch and quality time.

he’s busy a lot so he always tries to spend as much time with you as possible. even if it's not an extravagant date he wants to spend time with you.

during away games he will facetime you every night, even if he's tired.

he's an ass squeezer. you often get mad at him for it but he doesn't care. he’ll grab your ass every chance he gets.

he loves it when you play with his hair. he loves laying on your chest and getting his hair played with.

he needs comfort after bad practices and games. sometimes he takes it out on you and needs a reminder not to do that. but you put up with him and realize what he needs.

this man is always sleeping so lots of naps together. he struggles to sleep without you on away games.

he just loves physical touch. he will come home and literally flop on top of you. he’s always wrapping his arms around you. he's more of an arm around the waist guy instead of holding hands.

he’s honestly a really nervous guy around you at the beginning of the relationship. he’s really respectful and cautious when you guys start dating but once he warms up to you he becomes his usual loud self.

he loves it when you kiss his neck. this is a random one but i can just see him loving neck kisses.

he sits in the bathroom while you shower and vice versa. you guys often shower together but if not you guys will sit in there while the other person showers just to talk to eachother.

when you guys argue its usually over stupid stuff but if its a real argument he gets petty but if he knows he messed up he will apologize first.

when youre on your period this man is an angel. he will literally do anything for you if youre sick or on your period.

speaking of, when melo is sick he is the biggest baby. he will whine and cry for you anytime you leave the room.

he loves to play basketball with you, even if you suck, he will lift you up so you can dunk.

gets you all the free LaFrance you want. he’ll also ask you to model for LaFrance.

he loves you so much and if an interviewer ever asks about you he gets so excited and praises you so much.

he loves carrying you. when you fall asleep he will always carry you to bed.

“baby” , “ma” , “mama"

~ NSFW BELOW THE CUT ~

size kink. we all know this man is 6’7 so he looooves when you tell him how big he is and he loves seeing the size difference between you two.

he loves your ass. like i said earlier it applies to sex too. he just grabs your ass and is obsessed with it. this also means he loves backshots.

he gets hard just from you sitting in his lap. or just being around you in general.

this is oddly specific but he loves when you ride him in his car. like for some reason rhat really urns him on.

he’s such a praiser when your riding him,

“youre doing so good baby” “keep going, feels so good"

he’ll get so worked up when he’s away from you and he will be so desperate the second he sees you.

he’s literally up for anything.

he’s definitely an ass man but still loves your tits. no matter the size he loves them. the first time he saw your tits he was shook and became obsessed.

he gets jealous a lot. which means jealous sex. being an NBA player he's often around a lot of good-looking guys. when you interact with them he gets jealous and fucks you so you only remember his name.

he gets really turned on when you call him ‘lamelo'

[vintagebueckers]

   ꒰       ࣪˖𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ─  𝓟𝐑𝐎𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅𝐅 , lamelo ball    .ᐟ  .ᐣ       ꒱

★ he needed to be nothing like your ex and everything your parents hated. he needed to be loud, flashy, heavily tattooed, and slight obnoxious. everything your ex boyfriend wasn't, just to spite your ex for cheating on you with some no name bitch at a party and your parents for constantly pushing you to date there friends insufferable children. they were all the same, insecure, shallow and boring. sure you would go along with it for your parents sake, but there was only so much jealousy and fragile male ego you could take before you had enough.

★ and today was that day. this wasn't by any mean's a premeditated plan of action. no quite the opposite, it was a spur of the moment decision that was born from boredom and a result of retail therapy on you ex's card (which he didn't know was missing) failing to lift your spirits. that's when you decided date someone you knew would get a rise out of both your ex boyfriend and parents, kill two birds with one stone.

★ someone so outlandish and removed from the safe cookie cutter rich boy's you were use to having on your arm, and someone who could both give your mother a heart attack and make your ex spiral with jealousy before the weeks end. it was a masterstroke of genuine, and to be honest you should have though about doing this sooner. it was genius, all you had to do was go on a date have the paparazzi snap a few pictures and boom everyone who you wanted to be pissed of would be that and then some in a matter of seconds.

★ your friend had set this up for you, her text stating that she had found the perfect person for your devious plan and send you the link to a reservation at you favourite new york restaurant with a hundred percent guarantee of paparazzi being present. guaranteeing your face would be all over the front page by nine o' clock tomorrow, though your friend wouldn't say who would be waiting for you at the restaurant. and though you would never admit it.

★ the idea of not knowing who you were meeting in advance made you nervous, as while you did want to piss of as many people as humanly possible in twenty four hours. what if this went horribly wrong? you mulled it over during the two hours you took to get ready, as you picked out your best outfit, applying a light face of make-up but with a sharp eye as to not look to plain, giving yourself a simple yet effortless hairstyle to tie it all together. before adding the final finishing touches, simple yet elegant jewellery and perfume. and by the time you were done, your driver was waiting to whisk you away.

★ which means it was to late to turn back now. any trace of uncertainty you had the moment you stepped out of the car, game faces only. but nothing could have prepared you for the shock of who was at the table. lamelo ball, your ex's favourite basketball player someone who he would yack on about for hours at a time to the point it had become white noise. a smile tugged at your lips as you walked to the table "this seat taken?" you asked knowing full well what the answer would be. "nah, all your ma." he said standing up to pull out her chair "you come here often, or am I just lucky tonight?" oh now this was going to be fun "show me a good time and you'll find out handsome"

all rights reserved, ©vintagebueckers.

[bluewatersfairy]

homebody - l.b.

loosely inspired by homebody by kalin white (a/n: i've been wanting to use this song for a longgg time)

synopsis: requested by @bemybinarystar! two people meet by chance on an app that thrives on anonymity and begin an x-rated relationship with one another filled with late night video calls.

warnings: mature content, MINORS DNI!! depictions of sex work, mutual masturbation.

word count: 3.2k

•••

Melo grabbed his laptop and climbed on top of his bed, checking one last time that there were no tell-tale signs in view that would make him identifiable.  This had become a part of his routine and what was once him being cautious was now a natural habit.  He originally didn’t care, it never even crossed his mind, but she had told him he needed to, she didn’t want to know who he was.  That was weird for him to hear too, it reminded him of how different this relationship was.  If you could call it a relationship.

When he had first discovered her, he was doom scrolling on the type of site that was created for late-night rendezvous.  He’d convinced himself he was just curious, he’d laugh about it later and go back to the more traditional way of fulfilling his needs.  But then he saw her smile and he had to stop scrolling.  Her description was limited, her height, tag name, and that she was drawn to the anonymity of the site; tell me something good and maybe we can figure something out.

The only reason Melo had even caught her attention was because his profile looked like a cheap bot: 2 tall, 2 long, fire’n’ice, was all his profile said.  His request sat in her inbox for two days until he sent her another message, ‘you ever think about castles?  they got pretty ones by the lakes in lithuania.’  It was a bizarre opening, but it got him out of her requests and into her inbox.

They messaged back and forth for a full week before anything remotely sexual was discussed.  Melo liked that she wasn’t jumping at his every response and that it looked like she had a life too.  During that week, they hadn’t shared much about themselves, but he felt like she was investigating him, despite the very few questions she asked.  The first time he received the app notification that she’d sent him a picture, his palms started getting sweaty.  

He locked himself in his room, something that would become routine, laid back on his bed and opened her message thread.  It was a tasteful shot of her full thighs and ass peaky out of a red silk slip.  Her deep amber skin against the scarlet made him gulp.  It was so little, nothing he hadn’t seen before, but it pulled his interest and ignited his curiosity.  She had waited for him to see the message before she sent the follow up, ‘your turn…”

Melo had spent the next 10 minutes cleaning his floor and checking that nothing could be seen in the background from his messy room.  He spat in his palm and stroked his hard-on till it was raging and grown.  He held the base of his shaft with one hand and took a photo with the other before sending it through.  

That was two months ago and though neither of them had asked many personal questions, there was this unspoken bond between them.  She didn’t need him to say when he’d had a rough day, and he knew how she needed to be talked to.  He found himself thinking of her at the worst of times and turning to her when he needed a boost.  In return, he’d transfer undisclosed amounts of money to her account.  Again, this was something they hadn’t really talked about, it was an unspoken agreement.

Of course, she never expected him to be so generous.  

At first, she assumed that it was an attempt to impress her and keep her interested in him.  She had told him after maybe a week of exchanging racy pictures that she offered more, but for it to be fair to the other people she entertained, he had to pay a small fee that he felt reflected their time together.  The beauty of the site that she considered her secret life was that she got to choose her clients and could easily report and block people if they ever became aggressive or obsessive.  She’d always managed to attract men who exhibit something she’s attracted to, but she knew “fire’n’ice” was closer to her age and clearly in a high position, and that image was addictive to her.  

When he had first sent her a large sum out of the blue, she’d been 3 hours deep in official documents.  She imagined him in a similar position, probably in slacks and a white button up, trapped in his office thinking about taking her at his desk.  She’d quickly excused herself, citing lady problems, and clicked off to the employee bathroom.

Melo, who was standing in his kitchen heating up one of the several protein-based meals he had made weekly, received a message with 3 attachments.  She was spreading herself open for him, and had framed her tits in such a way, he just wanted to latch on.  He’d groaned loudly and abandoned his meal in favour of his room.  His cock was tight against his pants and the second he freed it, he felt the ache take over his body.  

He squeezed his eyes shut and pictured her, imagining how she posed.  He thrust into his fist and straggled words flew out of his mouth.  In the haze of the moment, he grabbed his phone and opened the camera. 

“Look at my fuckin’ cock, babygirl, look how hard it is for you.” He spat as he finished his sentence, needing more moisture so he could fuck his hand better.  “I bet you’d love to choke on my big fuckin’ dick, aye baby?  I’d fuck your face and finish all over your tits.”  

He paid no mind to what he was saying, he was just talking shit as he thrusted harder and faster into his hand.  His cum spurted all over his desk, some of it landing on his phone screen.  He swore and stopped the recording before bending over, his chest heaving.  He’d never thought to do something like that before.  She hadn’t even made a video for him, she’d only ever sent pictures.  What had she done to him?

The video worked in Lamelo’s favour in more ways than he could have possibly known.  She already had a growing soft spot for mr. fire’n’ice but that video sent him to the top of her list.  He was the first client she reached out to during the days and his sessions were always top priority for her.  It didn’t have much to do with the money, she was just drawn to him in every way a person can be to someone they’ve never met or even seen properly.  He even had her questioning if she should take a step back from her other clients and just entertain him.  

It was bad.  Unprofessional even.  But she couldn’t stop herself.

LaMelo was still checking his background when her call came in, popping up on his screen with her explicit profile icon highlighted with a red ring.  He pressed the green button and did one final adjustment to his laptop so all she could see was below his neck.  He always wore a black wife-beater so that his chest tattoo was mostly covered but so she could still get a good view of his toned torso and the ever growing bulge in his shorts.

“Hi pretty boy,” her ruby red lips pulled into a grin on his screen.  She looked like she was laying on her stomach, her tits pushed together under a slip of vibrant material.  

“‘Sup baby,” Melo swiped his tongue across his bottom lip, “you lookin’ edible.”

She giggled as she ran her hand down her neck before reaching somewhere off camera.  She was sitting up, he realised, before she brought something of a prop on screen.

“I was gonna say I found these today and thought of you,” she giggled again, “I know you’re much bigger, but you can’t tell me that’s not a close match.”  Melo smirked as he watched her twirl two rainbow lolly-cocks in the camera.  

“They not that girthy, you could still fit them in your mouth easy,” Melo felt his dick twitch as she rested her pouty lips on the tip of the lolly.

“Are you saying your dick won’t fit in my mouth?” she bit on her bottom lip and dragged her hand down her chest as she spoke.

“I’m sayin’ it won’t be easy.”  Melo’s hand moved to the bulge in his pants and he gently palmed it.

“I like a challenge,” she smiled, “I’ll make sure it fits baby, you know I’m a good girl for you.”

“Show me.” 

His voice was raspy, and his dick was hard.  She’d caught him at the perfect time and he knew she could tell just how desperate he was for her.  He didn’t care that she knew anymore.  Truthfully, he thought it showed how well they knew each other and how much he trusted her.  

“Of course baby,” she grinned before adjusting her laptop camera slightly.  

Melo watched closely as she spat on the tip of the lolly cock and used her tongue to glide it down.  Kitten licks and teasing kisses quickly turned into her pouty lips wrapped around the head.  The wet sounds her mouth made against the hard lolly did nothing but strengthen the pulse in Melo’s cock.  He swiped his tongue across his bottom lip before readjusting himself, watching as she pushed the lolly further into her mouth.  

“You’re such a good girl, baby,” Melo pushed out with his head leaning back.  He watched her through his eyelashes, picturing her wrapped around him.  His chest rose and fell at a steady pace and his skin flushed pink.  He was getting caught up in the thick of things, he barely processed her transitioning from the lolly cock to one of her dildos.

It was one they had purchased together.  It was a late night call, much like they were currently on, and she had wanted to find something a bit different for the two of them.  Her screen was shared with him as they scrolled through an adult website.  Every now and then Melo would point out one, whether he was being serious or joking was always up for interpretation.  

“I want something that’s like you,” she said sheepishly when Melo had asked why he was involved, “it’s like torture seeing such a pretty and big dick and not be able to ride it.”  

They’d found a dildo similar to his size and when it came in the mail a week later, Melo received a video of her putting it in her mouth, popping it out and pushing it between her tits.  She said she wouldn’t to anything else without him, but he was out of town and sharing a room so it would be a minute until he was going to be able to be alone with her.  It ended up being one of their better calls.  Melo could barely keep his eyes open by the end of it, he felt so fucked out and exhausted, you’d think she had actually been there to suck the soul out of him.  He’d jokingly texted her the next morning saying he had a sore wrist.  It wasn’t a complete joke though, many coaches commented on his shooting being off that day at practice. 

“Oh baby,” she moaned through the camera as she pulled the rubber cock out of her mouth, “touch yourself baby, show me how you stroke it.”

Melo was rock hard.  He hissed as he ran his hand up his thick shaft and circled his thumb over his throbbing head, spreading his leaked pre-cum so she could see it.  She spat on her dildo as he squirted lube on himself.  

“Follow my pace baby,” she instructed, “you know how much I love to push you.”

“I’ll do whatever you say baby,” Melo swallowed and began to stroke his dick as she jacked the dildo.  She switched between going fast and slow, bringing different sounds out of Melo as she encouraged him.  She moaned at every twitch of his dick and felt herself growing hotter and hotter with each stroke.

“Fuck,” she spat out as Melo had to let go of his cock, his head thrown back and his eyes squeezed shut, “you wanna cum don’t you baby?”

“I don’t wanna,” Melo groaned as he smacked his cock, “you just drive me crazy Ma.”  His eyes refocused on his screen to find she’d changed positions.

She was sitting now, her thighs spread so her pussy was on full display.  Melo cussed at the sight of it.  Even through the camera he could tell she was just as heated as he was.  She was visibly swollen and practically dripping.  She giggled as she slipped her fingers through her folds, a visible tremble running through her at the same time.

“Look how ready I am for you,” she moaned as she fingered her clit, “you’d stretch me out so good with that big cock.”

“I’d give you the fuck of your life,” Melo gripped his cock again, “have yo ass screamin’.”

She picked up the dildo from her side and rubbed the tip against her entrance, “tell me baby,” she hummed, “tell me how you’d do me.”

“I’d fuck you in so many ways,” he started to jerk his cock again.  “God, I’d fuck you into your mattress baby, giving you the deepest strokes of your life.  You’ve never had a dick like this.”

“No I haven’t,” she whined, pushing the dildo inside her, “you’d have to go slow with me, I wanna make sure I feel every inch of you.”  she let out a gasp of a pet name, her free hand gripping on to her tit.

“God just the sight of your cock makes me feel crazy,” her hips were moving against her hand, pushing the rubber cock in and out, trying desperately to match Melo’s pace.  If he could function enough to think of anything at that moment, he’d appreciate her commitment to making it feel like they were together, fucking.  But his brain wasn’t working anymore.  Everything that came to mind was nothing shy of filth. 

“It’s all yours baby, and you’d look so fucking good bouncing on top of it.”

She moaned at his words, her tits bouncing as she fucked herself harder.  

“This big fucking dick is all yours, whenever you want it, I don’t care where, it’s yours.”

His room filled with a mix of her moans, his heavy breathing and the sound of his hand beating his cock, slapping with how fast he was jerking.

“Oh and this pussy is all yours daddy,” she moaned loudly, “I’m all yours baby.  You can put that pretty dick whereever you want and use me for whatever you need.  I just need you all over me daddy, your big hands wrapped in my hair, around my throat.”

“I’ll slut you out baby,” Melo groaned as he chased her words, “I’ll make you cum so much the whole world gon’ hear.”  

“I’m gonna cum,” she all but screamed, “keep talking, tell me baby, I want to hear you.”

“I’ll fuck you from behind in the mirror, baby.  Smack yo’ ass and pull your hair and make you look me in the eye while you cum all over my big dick.”  Melo repressed a loud moan and swallowed hard.  “We gon’ fuck all night, baby, the second you cum, I’m sticking it right back in there.  I’ll make it so you won’t be able to walk in the morning.”

Melo watched her body react to his words and struggled to process the sight. Her chest was heaving, fucking the dildo in and out of her hole with her hand tight on her clit.  She swore over and over again until her words were nothing but moans and Melo saw everything reach it’s peak.  She pulled the dildo out of her and did everything she could to stop her thighs from clamping shut.

“Holy fuck,” she gasped with her head thrown back and her hands jammed between her thighs.  She collasped against whatever was behind her and Melo watched her spread herself open and squirt.  “Oh baby, I’m cumming so fucking hard.”

Melo just about double over, letting out the loudest moans and groans he’d ever made as his load spurted out of his tip.  He massaged his balls and watched his seed cover his lower stomach and parts of his laptop.

“Fuck,” he sighed as he leaned back and let his dick stand to its own want.  

For a minute, the two of them didn’t move, just panting heavily staring at one another.  Occasionally, he’d stroke his shaft and rub his balls at the same time to see if he had anything left.  She was the first one to move, laying back down to the position she’d been in when the call started.

“Every time I think we’ve reached our peak, you go and do the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” she giggled as she put one of her fingers to her lips.

“Tell me how that pussy tastes babe,” he said, his voice audibly strained.  She smirked and put her fingers in her mouth, sucking them off.

“It tastes sweet and creamy,” she let her wet fingers drag down her naked torso to her nipples.

“You’re a fuckin’ problem,” Melo grinned and shook his head, reaching for the rag he washed for this call.

“I’m a problem?” she giggled, pointing to herself, “you’re the one who’s got me thinking of throwing all the policies out the window.”

“Policies?” Melo asked, suddenly brought out of his post-nut daze.  “What are you tryna say?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted with a shrug, “but don’t you feel it too?  Don’t you want to see my face?  Know my name?”

“I want all of the above, baby,” Melo pulled his laptop closer to him.  “Are you saying there’s more we could do?”

“I’m just thinking out loud here,” she hesitated, “you’re the first person I feel like I’d be safe sharing my secrets with.”  What was she saying?

It was a big confession, she wants to elevate things.  Melo couldn’t decide if it was his money or him but he really didn’t care.  He wanted to have her name and he wanted her to know his name.  But it’s unique, and she’d know exactly who he was if he said it.

Fuck it.

“LaMelo,” he rushed to say, spitting it out before he could think twice.  “I’m LaMelo.”

She smiled wide and he watched as she reached out to her laptop screen and pushed it back slightly.

“I’m Y/N,” she giggled.

LaMelo repeated her name, letting it pass through his lips to see how it’d feel saying it.

“So Y/N,” Melo smiled as he pushed his laptop screen a bit too, showing more of him, “if I offered to fly you out, would you say no?”

“Oh baby,” she smirked, “I’d be there in a heartbeat.  I want all that dick in real life.”

“Aight, bet,” Melo picked up his phone from beside him, “you give me a date and I’ll work out all the rest.”

[hvnsinureyes]

i am officially out of ideas, so. . . requests are open!

as a reminder:

i do not write ship fics, male!reader, non/dubcon, step-anything, incest, etc. as a writer, i have the right to deny requests that i believe i cannot write or agree with writing about.

i write for . . .luka doncic | austin reaves | steph curry | nikola jokic | lamelo ball | jared mccain | giannis antetokounmpo — you can also suggest other players n i’ll let yk if i would write for them!

i am a university student, please give me grace if i take too long to post 🫶🏾

i don't mind writing smut, but keep in mind it's not my strong suit! it might take a little longer getting those fics out compared to others. thanks!

[bellaed1t]

heyyyy bhaddies it’s been a while… i think im a wattpader now…

[excusemejb]

Lamelo Ball imagine-

Summary: Naomi signs her little brother up for the big brother club, but is intrigued by her brother’s mentor.

"You're going to be fine" she reassured while fixing Nalo's collar. How did you fold your collar inside out? She thought to herself in pure confusion.

Looking back up she notices the anxious look on her brother's face. "Nalo they are going to love you, someone in there will be so excited to have you as a little brother okay"? He nods and straightens up.

"I'll be back in two hours and we'll go grab food at Inizio Pizza". "INIZIO PIZZA?!" Nalo squeals excitedly. "Only if you give this big brother thing a try" she said trying to persuade him.

"I should've known there was a catch" Nalo says as he walks into the building. "I love you too" Naomi says breathlessly from laughing.

He just turns around and smiles.

That's my boy.

•<3<3<3•

Lamelo sat on the bleachers as he mindlessly scrolls through twitter waiting for pairings to start. When he hears a small voice yell "That's too easy!".

He looks up to see a kid absolutely dominating the basketball court, obviously too talented for his competition. He posts a tweet and waits until they are done then he approached him.

"You was out there going crazy man!" Melo says as he puts his hand on the young boy's shoulder.

The kid turns around and his eyes widen. Melo smiles in amusement and says "what's your name?" "I'm Nalo Pierce" reaching his hand out to shake.

"Maybe I can teach you some moves." Melo scoffs "teach ME some moves?! okay show me something".

Nalo starts to dribble the ball while Melo lazily defends not taking him seriously. Which causes Nalo to go in for the layup. Melo laughs "Okay youngin, my ball".

Melo starts to dribble the ball up the court when Nalo comes in and steals the ball causing a turnover. He then runs to the three point line to bank in a three while doing his head tap celebration at Melo.

This kid is hilarious.

Melo does his high pitched scream while laughing hysterically. Nalo comes over smirking ready to tell him off but they are interrupted by the organizer.

"How's it going over here?" asked Brian. "Great, just getting to know my little brother" Melo says looking down smiling at Nalo. Nalo glanced down bashfully as Brian walks away.

"Little brother?" he asks. Melo's face contorts from confusion to realization when he blurts out "I just assumed you'd want to pair with me, if you don't it's fine it's really up to-". "I'd like that", Nalo says calmly.

Bro pulling my heart strings I don't like it.

Clearing his throat, Melo grabs the ball and says "1v1?".

"Are you sure you can handle it cus I gave you the business earlier" Nalo taunts.

"Mannn you got lucky, I wasn't even trying" Melo said as he kissed his teeth.

"Of course that's what happened" Nalo sarcastically says grabbing the ball from Melo getting into position.

What have I gotten myself into?

•<3<3<3•

Naomi rushes into the recreation center to pick up Nalo. Walking through the zig zags of the hall gets too confusing as she rushes past every door until she sees a gym.

She peeks through the glass to see Nalo and a man sitting on basketballs with their backs turned toward her. She gently opens the door and walks in slowly hoping to surprise her brother. As she approaches she picks up on their conversation.

"-yeah so now I'm in Charlotte like you, playing basketball, having fun, and I'm getting pizza later. Life's good you know what I mean?" She heard Nalo say.

The guy laughs before replying "yeah, I know what you mean".

"I know what you mean too" Naomi announces. Turning around quickly Nalo runs to her and gives her the biggest hug known to man. "You're late.." he says expecting an answer. "Sorry the meeting went a little longer than expected" she says turning her attention to the man waiting patiently.

"I really hope he wasn't too much trouble he can be a handful sometimes" Naomi says apologetically. "Oh not at all but he's quite the trash talker" Melo laughs.

"Oh don't get me started I already know" Naomi dismisses.

They share a laugh before shaking hands. "Naomi Pierce, the sister". "Lamelo Ball, the mentor".

Looking up at him she admires his features, his handsome features. The eyes. The smile. Those lips... Snapping out of her thoughts as his tongue licks his lips. "You're really tall" she said hoping he didn't see her checking him out.

"I'm a professional basketball player the height helps, I taught this one here all he knows" he said pointing to Nalo jokingly. "More like I taught you" Nalo said not even bothering to glance up from his phone.

Naomi and Melo burst out into laughter, as they sobered up Naomi says "It was nice meeting you Lamelo".

"It was nice meeting you too...very nice" not even trying to be subtle as he looks her up and down.

Oh he's bold.

Nalo daps him up and walks towards the exit. "The pizza isn't going to eat itself come on" he says impatiently.

"Okay okay I'm coming, impatient creature!". Naomi replies while speed walking towards the exit. Almost there she turns and waves goodbye to Melo. He waves back but her car alarm starts to blare the culprit being Nalo.

"If he doesn't show up to big brother's club one day don't wonder why" she says running out of the gym.

Melo laughs before shaking his head and turning around to put up shots.

[persephoneinbloom]

omgggggg my professor keeps saying LAMELLA (Which is a plate of tissue) and I Keep imaging LaMelo. I've been blushing and smiling a lot. I'm grateful to be seated at the back. Two hours remaining of lecture.

[v6quewrlds]

now i need you to write a lamelo smut pls 🙏😩

hi bae <3333 i have been summoned by my lamelo girls 🙂‍↕️

“Can you be serious for like, five minutes?” You playfully slapped at LaMelo’s chest as he tickled you mid-kiss. You were sprawled on the couch, straddling his thighs, your silk robe gaping open to reveal your lacy lingerie. His laughter echoed in the dimly lit room, the only sound other than the rustling of fabric and your muffled moans.

“Why start now?” LaMelo’s grin was wide, his eyes gleaming with mischief. He had a knack for turning everything into a game, even in your most intimate moments. You leaned back and gave him a look that said you were ready to get down to business.

He took the hint and leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that was no longer playful, but hungry, demanding. His hands roamed over your body, tracing the curves of your hips and thighs, making you shiver. Your annoyed giggles morphed into soft sighs as you felt his length pressing against you. You rocked your hips slightly, the friction sending waves of pleasure through you.

LaMelo’s hands found their way under your lingerie, cupping your tits and rolling your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. You bit your lower lip, trying to muffle a moan, but it escaped, turning into a whimper that made him grin. “Oooh, sensitive,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

“Melo, please. We have half an hour to leave for the party,” you said breathlessly, your eyes pleading.

“So let me work my magic then, won’t take long, you know how I do,” LaMelo said with a wink, his smugness not lost on you as you rolled your eyes. He untied your robe, watching as it fell off your shoulders, revealing you completely to his hungry gaze. Despite your impatience, you felt a thrill run through you as his eyes took in your body with a look of pure desire.

With surprising seriousness, he slid your panties to the side and began to stroke your clit, his thumb circling with just the right amount of pressure. Your eyes fluttered shut and you leaned in to kiss him again, your body arching into his touch. He chuckled against your mouth, enjoying the way you responded to him. But you were right, the two of you didn’t have much time, and he didn’t want to keep you waiting.

“You ready?” LaMelo whispered against your lips, his voice thick with lust. His hands moved with purpose to undo his pants. He positioned himself at your entrance and paused, looking up at you, waiting for your approval.

You nodded, your cheeks flushed with excitement. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “Need you, bad, baby,” you breathed, your voice urgent.

He pushed into you with one swift movement, eliciting a gasp in response. You felt yourself stretch to accommodate his length, the sensation of his hardness filling you sending a shiver down your spine. He paused for a moment, giving you time to adjust, before starting a steady rhythm, his hands gripping your hips to guide your movements.

“Mm, you feel so good, so tight,” he murmured, his eyes closed in concentration. You responded with a moan, your walls tightening around him, urging him deeper. Despite your earlier annoyance, you found yourself getting lost in the moment, your body responding to his touch.

“Tell me how it feels, baby girl,” LaMelo coaxed, his words hushed against your parted lips.

Your hands tugged at his hair as you moaned softly. “Amazing, Melo. Don’t stop, please,” you breathed. Your body began to rock with his rhythm, your hips moving in sync with his. The sound of your skin slapping together filled the room, melding with the occasional groan of the leather couch beneath you.

You had been together long enough for LaMelo to know exactly what you liked, and he was eager to give it to you. His thumb found your clit again, moving in a pattern that had your hips twitching against him. You could feel the tension building, your body tightening around his. “Melo, I’m so close, don’t stop, baby,” you whimpered.

“Come for me,” he urged, his voice strained with effort. He could feel his own release approaching, his muscles tensing as he pushed deeper into you. Your breath hitched and you threw your head back, your mouth opening in a silent scream as you reached your peak. You clamped down on him, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm.

LaMelo’s eyes widened with satisfaction as he watched you unravel, feeling your contractions around his cock. He gave a few more deep, hard thrusts before he too climaxed, his entire body going rigid with pleasure. The two of you stayed like that for a moment, both panting and sweaty, your bodies still joined as you basked in the afterglow.

Finally, he pulled out and you flopped onto the couch, a contented smile playing on your lips. LaMelo leaned over to kiss your forehead. “Told you to let me work my magic,” he said smugly, earning a playful swat from you.

“You're so annoying, I can't stand you sometimes,” you said with a laugh, fixing your disheveled lingerie.

“But you love it, can't get enough of it,” LaMelo shot back, tucking in his shirt and fastening his pants with a grin. He knew he had a way of driving you crazy, both in the bedroom and out, but it was all part of your dynamic. The two of you bickered like an old married couple, but the love between you was undeniable.

“Whatever,” you said, your tone sarcastic. But you couldn’t hide the sparkle in your eyes. “I need to get ready for this party.”

“Take your sweet time, baby, we got all night,” LaMelo winked at you and stood up, adjusting his clothing.

[goldfades]

Can I request a Melo fic where reader is the hornets media person and they both are oblivious to the fact that they have a crush on each other. But the team knows and are constantly teasing them on when they are gonna finally start dating! Love your writing btw and so glad your back❤️❤️

this was genuinely so fun to write, hope you enjoy, love!

The thing about working in sports media is that you learn how to move fast. Fast with a camera, fast with a quote, fast with a smile that makes a player actually want to answer your questions instead of brushing past you on their way to the tunnel. And you? You were good at moving fast.

Except when it came to LaMelo Ball.

Which, to be clear, wasn’t your fault. It was his. Because he was the one who moved too slow, always lingering when you held up your mic for a postgame interview, always finding a way to make his answers stretch just long enough to keep your attention. He’d lean in closer than necessary, grin like he knew something you didn’t, and then hit you with an extra “you feel me?” like he wasn’t about to jog straight into the locker room and get roasted by his teammates for the entire exchange.

Which, again, was not your fault.

And yet, somehow, it was your problem.

Because the team had started noticing.

Noticing the way you laughed a little too easily at his jokes. Noticing the way he only ever seemed to light up for your questions. Noticing the way the two of you existed in some kind of gravitational pull, both completely oblivious to the fact that the entire Hornets roster had already taken bets on when you’d finally figure it out.

Of course, you didn’t know that yet.

And neither did LaMelo.

Which made it all the more entertaining for everyone else.

It had started off small—just a few passing comments, a couple of knowing glances shared among the team whenever you and LaMelo interacted. At first, you hadn’t noticed, too focused on your job, too used to moving through the locker room and practice facility like it was just another workday. You were good at keeping things professional. It was part of the job, part of what made you valuable to the Hornets' media team. Players trusted you. Coaches respected you.

But then it started happening more.

Miles once whistled low when LaMelo lingered too long at the podium after a postgame win, answering one of your questions with his usual easy drawl, but this time making a show of leaning on the mic, chin resting in his palm, looking at you like you were the only person in the room. It was playful, casual. LaMelo didn’t even seem to realize how much of the space he took up when he looked at you like that.

“You tryna do a full sit-down or sum?” Miles had muttered just loud enough to be caught on the mic, earning a ripple of laughter from the reporters in the room.

LaMelo had barely acknowledged it, just tossed a half-hearted “shut up” over his shoulder. But the moment your eyes flickered to the rest of the players scattered near the back of the press conference setup, you caught a few grins, a couple of exchanged looks.

The next time it happened, you were recording some behind-the-scenes footage for the team’s social media. It was the usual—practice clips, a few interviews, some of the guys cutting up between drills. LaMelo was always easy content, naturally charismatic in a way that made him one of the easiest players to feature. You knew this. You knew that getting clips of him was practically a requirement at this point.

But that didn’t explain why he made you his primary audience every single time.

You’d be filming a quick segment on the sidelines, and instead of answering the question normally, LaMelo would find a way to direct his response to you—like the camera was just a middleman and you were the real person he was talking to.

Or, worse, he’d ask you something back, completely derailing the interview.

Like the time you’d asked him about his pregame playlist, and instead of listing off a few artists like a normal person, he’d just tilted his head and fired back, “Why? You tryna put me on to somethin’?”

And you—being the consummate professional that you were—had definitely not just stood there, suddenly hyperaware of how many people were around, how many pairs of eyes were watching the way you hesitated before laughing it off.

“Just tryna get some content, Ball,” you had said smoothly, but it didn’t matter.

Because PJ had been nearby, stretching out on the court, and you knew he heard.

“You tryna put him on?” PJ had echoed with a grin, already looking over at some of the other guys, as if waiting for them to jump in.

“On what?” Mark had asked, coming up behind him.

PJ hadn’t even answered. He’d just pointed at you and then at LaMelo, the silent implication loud.

And LaMelo, for all his easy confidence, had just smirked, shaking his head like this was just another round of nonsense from his teammates.

The moment passed quickly, the conversation shifting to something else, but it stayed with you longer than it should have.

It was stupid. You knew how locker rooms worked, how teams formed inside jokes and ran with them until they got old. You were just an easy target because you spent so much time around the team, because LaMelo had a habit of engaging with you more than the other media personnel.

That was all it was.

Right?

It wasn’t like you actually—

No.

You refused to even entertain the thought.

But the teasing didn’t stop.

If anything, it got worse.

A week later, you were sitting courtside before a home game, making sure all the pregame coverage was running smoothly. Your job was simple—get a few warm-up shots, check the mic levels for interviews, keep things moving. You were in the middle of reviewing some footage on your phone when a shadow passed over you.

LaMelo.

You didn’t even have to look up to know it was him. He had a way of making his presence known, of moving with a kind of slow, unbothered energy that stood out.

“Damn,” he said, plopping down on the open seat next to you like it was his media job to be there. “You always working?”

You glanced up, raising a brow. “Kinda the job description.”

He just hummed, resting his elbows on his knees, watching the rest of the team warm up. “You need to chill sometimes.”

You snorted. “Chill, huh? You do know this is an NBA game, right? This is literally my job.”

He grinned, turning to you like he was about to say something else—only to be interrupted by Terry jogging over, wiping sweat off his brow with the bottom of his jersey.

“Yo, Y/N,” Terry said, smirking. “We takin’ bets. Over-under on you and ‘Melo makin’ it official by All-Star break?”

Your brain stalled.

“What?”

“Over-under,” Terry repeated like it was obvious. “I say it happens after the new year. Mark thinks by Christmas.”

You just stared, trying to figure out if this was some elaborate prank. “You—”

Before you could even process a response, Gordon walked by, clapping LaMelo on the shoulder.

“You two are still pretending?” Gordon said, sighing like he was genuinely disappointed. “Just put us out of our misery already.”

“I—we—what are you—”

And then Miles walked by.

“Man, let them be oblivious,” Miles said with a laugh. “It’s more fun this way.”

LaMelo—who had been silent this whole time—just stretched his arms behind his head, clearly enjoying whatever this was. “Damn, y’all talk about me that much?”

That only made them laugh harder.

You, on the other hand, were still trying to breathe.

“Y’all are so ridiculous,” you finally muttered, shaking your head.

But the damage was done. The moment was already branded in your brain, refusing to leave.

And maybe—just maybe—you were finally starting to notice what they all saw.

The teasing didn’t stop. If anything, it got worse.

Over the next few weeks, it became a running joke—one that followed you through every press conference, every locker room interview, every shootaround where LaMelo so much as looked at you for longer than two seconds.

And the worst part? He never helped.

Not once did he shut it down. Not once did he tell his teammates to leave it alone. If anything, he egged it on, playing into it just enough to make you question if there was something you weren’t seeing.

Like the time he strolled into practice late, pulling his warmup hoodie over his head, and the first thing he did was find you.

“You miss me, ma?” he’d said, all casual, like he wasn’t dropping a bomb in the middle of your very professional, very platonic workday.

And then before you could even respond, PJ had cut in from across the gym—

“She definitely did, bro.”

The whole team had erupted into laughter, and you had been left standing there, heat creeping up your neck, trying to decide if quitting your job was a reasonable solution.

Then there was the time you were filming a TikTok with Mark—one of those quick “Who’s the funniest on the team?” videos for the Hornets’ socials—and LaMelo had walked right into the frame, standing next to you like he belonged there.

You didn’t think anything of it at first. He did this all the time—crashing interviews, throwing out random comments, messing with the camera guys. But then Mark had given his answer (not LaMelo, for the record), and instead of letting the video continue, LaMelo had turned to you, fully ignoring the camera.

“You think I’m funny?” he asked, looking at you like your answer actually mattered.

And you—like a complete idiot—had paused.

Which, apparently, was all the confirmation the rest of the team needed.

“Damn,” Miles had called out from behind the camera. “She really thinking about it.”

“I am funny,” LaMelo had said, still watching you like he was waiting for a real answer.

“You think you’re funny,” you had corrected, ignoring the way your pulse jumped.

He had just grinned, nudging your shoulder before walking off.

And the second he was out of earshot, Mark had turned to you with a knowing look. “Yeah. Y’all are gone.”

It was exhausting.

It was ridiculous.

It was—

“—happening whether you like it or not,” Terry said one day, leaning against the scorer’s table as you reviewed game footage.

You sighed, not even looking up. “We’re not happening, Terry.”

“Yet,” he said, because of course he did.

You exhaled through your nose, pressing your temples. “You guys are the worst.”

“Nah,” he said, grinning. “The worst would be if I didn’t let you know that dude is down bad.”

You rolled your eyes. “LaMelo is not down bad.”

Terry just whistled, shaking his head like you were the dumbest person alive. “Okay, sure. That’s why he only ever lets you interview him after games. That’s why he be lookin’ for you first every time he walk in the gym. That’s why—”

You groaned, smacking the table. “Terry.”

He held up his hands, backing off with a smirk. “Aight, aight. You’ll see.”

You didn’t see.

You refused to see.

Until the day LaMelo finally forced you to.

It was after a home game, the arena mostly empty except for a few staff members wrapping up their night. You had stayed behind to finish editing some clips, too caught up in your work to notice how much time had passed.

At least, until LaMelo strolled up next to you, hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels like he had nowhere else to be.

“You stay late too much,” he said.

You glanced up. “You notice how late I stay?”

That made him grin, slow and easy. “I notice a lot of things.”

You blinked, heartbeat stuttering. “Like what?”

He tilted his head. “Like how you never actually answer when they ask about us.”

Your stomach flipped. “They’re your teammates. I just work here.”

“Yeah?” He stepped a little closer. “So that’s the only reason you never shut it down?”

You hesitated.

And he saw it.

LaMelo took another step, dropping his voice. “You do like me.”

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. “You are—so—annoying.”

He just laughed, soft and knowing. “So that’s a yes?”

You covered your face, groaning. “Oh my God.”

He gently pried your hands away, waiting until you met his eyes again.

“I’m serious, though,” he said. “Let me take you out.”

Your breath caught.

It wasn’t a joke.

It wasn’t a bit.

It was real.

And maybe… maybe you had seen it the whole time.

You swallowed. “Like a date?”

He smiled. “Exactly like a date.”

Your heart pounded, but you managed to keep your voice steady. “You sure you can handle that?”

He leaned in, just enough to make your head spin.

“I been ready,” he murmured.

And, well—

So were you.

[solvyn]

i just know melo is the type of guy to always go on about how fine his girl is

oh nonnie you are so right

melo didn’t just think you were beautiful—he knew it. and he made sure everyone else knew it too.

it wasn’t just the way he looked at you, though that was obvious. his eyes would track your every move, dark and full of something almost worshipful. it wasn’t just the way he touched you, either - fingers always tracing along your waist, pulling you into his side, his hands splayed possessively over your hips like he had to remind everyone you were his.

it was the way he talked about you.

“nah, you don’t get it, bro,” melo would say, cutting off whoever was talking to him just to steer the conversation back to you. “like, she’s actually the baddest. y’all ever just seen a girl so fine it makes you mad? that’s my girl. it’s actually unfair.”

and it wasn’t just in private, either. oh no, melo was loud about his love. if someone so much as glanced at you the wrong way, he’d throw an arm over your shoulder and kiss the side of your head.

“she fine, huh?” he’d smirk at the poor soul who got caught looking. “yeah, i know. that’s mine, though.”

at home, it was even worse.

“damn, babe, you tryna kill me?” he’d groan dramatically when you walked into the room, even if you were just in sweats and a hoodie. “you just wake up this perfect, huh? that’s crazy. you gotta stop doing this to me.”

“melo, i’m literally in pajamas.”

“yeah, and you still the baddest. that’s wild.”

if you were getting ready for an event? forget it. he was on high alert, watching every little movement like you were a work of art.

“you wearing that? nah, don’t even look at me like that, i’m not tryna fight nobody tonight. matter fact, let me call security real quick—”

“melo.”

“nah, ‘melo’ nothing! you tryna give me a heart attack. i might actually have to square up with somebody over you.”

even when you thought you weren’t looking your best, melo never let that slide.

“i feel so gross today,” you muttered once, flopping onto the couch next to him.

melo immediately turned to you, offended. “nah. say that again. i dare you.”

you groaned. “melo—”

“nah, because why are you lying? you look so good right now. matter fact, come here—” he pulled you onto his lap, ignoring your weak protests as he peppered kisses along your jaw. “you the finest person i’ve ever seen, don’t play with me.”

it was constant. the compliments, the obsession, the way he made it painfully clear to everyone—including you—that you were the most beautiful girl in the world.

you would roll your eyes and laugh, but deep down, it warmed you. because melo didn’t just love you—he adored you. and he wasn’t afraid to let the whole world know.

[melosgirl]

hello!! i love your writing it’s so good, could u do a fic where reader is a famous actor and she decides to go to a basket ball game for the first time and is sat court side, u can go wherever u want from there idkk

courtside - lamelo ball

you walk into the arena, the buzzing energy of the crowd hitting you like a wave. the lights are bright, and the air smells like popcorn and excitement. you, y/n l/n, famous actress, used to this kind of attention, but there’s something about tonight that feels different. you're here to unwind, to enjoy the game and forget about the cameras and red carpets for a while.

finding your seat, you slide into it with a comfortable ease. the game starts, and you lose yourself in the rhythm of the court—the bounce of the ball, the swish of the net, the roar of the fans. you’ve always loved basketball, the way the players move like they’re dancing, like they're all in sync with the game.

midway through the first quarter, something catches your eye. one of the players, lamelo ball, dribbles down the court, his tall frame moving smoothly, effortlessly. there’s an undeniable confidence in his step, a swagger, and as he shoots a flawless three-pointer, the crowd erupts. but, strangely, your gaze doesn’t leave him. for a moment, it feels like he’s looking right back at you.

you try to shake it off, figuring it’s just the lighting, or maybe it’s all in your head. but then, after a few more plays, you notice him glance over again. this time, he doesn’t look away. a small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, and you can’t help but feel a flutter in your chest.

after a few minutes, the game pauses for a timeout. the arena’s energy dips slightly as the players gather. lamelo’s eyes linger in your direction for just a second longer, and before you know it, he’s jogging towards the sidelines, pulling off his jersey with a casual air. your heart skips. is this really happening?

he approaches the section where you’re sitting, his confident swagger now unmistakable as he flashes you a quick grin. "hey," he says, his voice deep but warm, almost like he’s known you forever.

"hi," you reply, a little caught off guard by how direct he’s being. your heart beats faster now, your mind racing with thoughts you can barely keep up with.

"i saw you earlier. you’re y/n l/n, right?" lamelo asks, looking at you with curiosity in his eyes.

you nod, surprised he recognized you. "yeah, that’s me."

"thought you looked familiar." he shrugs, his smile widening. "what brings you to the game?"

"just needed to get away for a bit," you say, your voice more casual than you feel. "how about you? just another day on the court?"

he laughs, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "yeah, but i gotta admit, i was hoping to make a good impression tonight."

you can’t help but laugh, feeling the spark between you both grow. you’ve always admired confidence, and lamelo has that in spades.

"well, you’re doing pretty well so far," you tease, feeling your nerves start to melt away.

he grins again, stepping a little closer. "good to know. maybe after the game, i could show you around? i know a few places around here that are perfect for unwinding."

you hesitate for just a second, but the thought of spending time with him sounds pretty nice. you nod, your smile matching his.

"yeah," you say, voice soft but steady. "i think that’d be nice."

he winks at you before turning back to the court, ready to jump back into the game. but the connection is there, undeniable, hanging between you both like an invisible thread.

as the game continues, you can’t help but keep an eye on lamelo, watching how he plays with a fire and focus that matches his personality. and in the back of your mind, you already know that tonight might turn into something unforgettable.

[hamzah-girly]

can you please write a melo imagine were he can’t wait to go home to you!!!!!

Home is where the heart is(Short Lamelo imagine)

It was 2 in the morning and Melo was just now finishing up a late practice, his coach has been extra hard on his team lately and making them do extra hours.

You were already at home in bed with y’all’s 3 year old son, Kaden.

Kaden was a big mamas boy so he always tried to sleep with you. Lamelo secretly loved when you all three cuddled together(but he would never admit it.)

When Melo was done taking a shower, he rushed to get home and sleep beside his family. Some people wouldn’t believe that he would be a good dad or husband, but if only they knew how he cared deeply for them both.

After a 30 minute drive, he finally got home. He rushed inside and to his room, he was met with the sight that he always loved seeing, his little boy curled up into his moms side while she held on to him tight.

Melo quietly got into sleep clothes and slid into the bed, he wrapped his arms around them both.

Lamelo always looked forward to going home to his two favorite people🤍

Author note: I know this is a little different from the ask but as I was writing it i decided to change it a bit, I hope you like it!

[aperiraa]

really need to be a wag for soccer player neteyam or basketball player lo'ak like just travel around look hot and watch them play thats the dream!

Fr I feel like he plays with Ao'nung in his free time with Ao'nung and they play together on the actual court too same team or not I imagine Lo'ak like lamelo ball tho in like so many aspects like but especially the way he acts cos like lamelo be acting like he high all the time and you can't look at Lo'ak and say he doesn't LOOK like he do the same

N I feel like neteyam would play football but him playing soccer is still so 😍 like I can see him kicking a soccer ball and especially sliding on his knees even when he not playing but I can also see him playing football especially when he not in a game he play at home with Lo'ak