#melo x reader

[mariposa-writes]

Good Sleep - LaMelo Ball

Summary: hate writing these, so just read and find out.

A/N: This man is the love of my life (and his brothers).

It was hard, dating an NBA player. Not that it was Melo's fault. He tried to make things as easy as possible. He called whenever he could, making sure to at least check in on me once a day.

It wasn't like I made things any easier. I took a lot of pride in my job and it felt like a lot of the time when he was home, I was busy working.

Which is what I am currently doing. Its around midnight, when I hear the garage open, I know it's Melo. His team was supposed to get back earlier tonight, but their flight got delayed due to weather.

After a few minutes he enters our room. I moved in with him a 6 months ago, since I practically lived there full time anyways. We both also thought it would be a good way to spend more time together.

"Hey, babe." He says walking over to me and giving me a quick kiss on the lips. He heads into our bathroom, getting ready to shower. He hates how he feels after plane rides, always complaining about being dirty. "What are you working on?" He calls from the bathroom.

"Just work stuff." I respond, not having the time to explain. I have to have these reports ready by Monday. I'm a CFO for a major clothing company in the US. We are currently working on expanding to European countries.

Melo showers while I work and before I know it he's climbing into bed. "Babe," He whines, "when are you going to bed?"

"I don't know, soon." I answer, dismissively. He frowns, looking up at me from where he's laying.

"You work to hard. Your not even 22 and your the CFO for a major company. I worry you're gonna work yourself to death." Melo's always hated how hard I work. We've been dating since we were both 19.

I was getting ready to graduate college, when he was getting drafted into the NBA. Being born a genius helped me fast track my schooling and career.

I started interning with the company I currently work at when I was 17, the summer after my junior year. I started working with them when they were just a start up, but in the past four years they have rapidly grown and I've been a part of the process the whole way.

This company is like my baby and I'm the one that has to track everything to make sure we are achieving our goals. I never intended on working here this long, but I love the people I work with (the pay isn't bad either).

They promoted me to CFO when their old one left to work for a bigger company. What an idiot, they didn't have believe in the company and soon ours will be bigger than the one they are working for.

Three hours later and I'm still working, Melo's passed out. After he fell asleep I headed to the office he set up for me, not wanting to wake him.

I have a blanket wrapped around me, with my headphones in and a cup of hot chocolate sitting on the desk. Once I get this done, I'll be on Monday and present to our investors I will be on vacation for the next 9 days.

I haven't told Melo yet, wanting to surprise him since our schedules rarely line up.

I look up from my computer, when I see the hallway light turn on. I take my headphones out, knowing it's Melo. He walks into my office, frowning. "Babe, go to bed." He groans.

"Ok, just give me a few minutes."

"Nope, you always say that and then a few minutes turn into another hour or two and then you're only getting like 2 hours of sleep before you head into the office." He walks over and shuts my laptop, before pulling me out of the chair.

I whine and protest the whole way back to our bed, but he doesn't seem to care. He makes me lay down and tucks me in like I'm a little kid, before climbing in bed next to me.

Once he's in bed his, arm wraps around my waist as he pulls me closer resting his head on my stomach. "Finally, I can sleep now."

"You've been asleep this whole time." I argue.

"Yea, but now I'll get good sleep. I only get good sleep when you're with me." I smile, even though he can't see me. I continue playing with his hair, before we both drift of to sleep in each other's arms.

[pinkmelodie]

𓂃 ࣪˖ ཐིཋྀ Sleepy sex with Gojo

“Toru,” you whisper softly, gently elbowing his torso.

He’s got his chest to your back, hugging you tightly as you spooned. His hold was unrelenting, murmuring out a grumpy, “stay in bed baby..’can go pee n’ the morning.. .”

You let out a quiet laugh, “no no, not that.”

You pry his arm from around you and guide it in between your legs where he could feel how soaked you were through your panties and thin shorts.

“oh,” he deadpans. “Ohhhhh.”

You roll your eyes at his tone, turning your face into the pillow to avoid his shit-eating grin.

He presses a kiss to your neck, then more and more until he trails up to your cheek, pressing one there again and again until you finally caved and looked at him.

“does my girl need me?” To further his point he rubs your clit through your shorts, eliciting a surprised moan from you. “hm? right here, yeah?”

When you don’t answer he moves to just circling your clit, fingers touching right around where you need him most. You were far too exhausted and needy to deal with his teasing, so you were quick to say what you knew he wanted to hear.

“please” you plead begrudgingly, already aware he wouldn’t give you what you want until you ‘ask nicely’.

He smiles satisfactorily. “I’ve got you baby, you just lay there and look pretty.”

He didn’t waste time in slipping a hand under your shorts and panties, warm hands gliding over your skin until they reached their target. He slowly inserted two of his long, slender digits into you, all while murmuring praises into your ear. He dipped his thumb between your folds, getting it nice and slicked before rubbing at your clit.

He pumped his fingers into you slowly, resting his chin atop your shoulder to peer down at the way your pretty pussy greedily sucked in his fingers. As his pace quickened you moaned and grasped his bicep where his arm laid over you—making him chuckle.

“that’s right, I’ve got you.” He hummed, quickly becoming entranced with the way your greedy cunt took whatever he gave you. His movements only quickened which made you squirm, so he reached his other arm under you to hold you in place against him.

That same hand pushed up your his shirt and tugged at your nipple, fondling your chest in a way that had you drooling.

He added a third digit before curling them, massaging the soft walls of your cunt. His pace was unrelenting, your pussy squelching with how wet you were every time his fingers pumped back in. He prodded at your insides until he hit that spot that made you see stars—immediately attacking it while pressing down on your puffy clit.

“hmfh- toru!” You squealed, the overwhelming stimulation leaving your head reeling. He didn’t slow his pace, instead pressing a kiss to your shoulder before nibbling at your neck.

He licked and sucked at your throat, leaving pretty little marks you knew you’d be struggling to hide tomorrow. He groaned as he marked up your neck, nearly drooling like he was enjoying the feeling more than you.

”mmh, kiss me,” he moaned—instantly meeting your lips with his when you turned your head—groaning into your mouth as he dragged you impossibly closer. Yeah, maybe he was enjoying this more than you.

His fingers bumping into your g-spot relentlessly paired with the feeling of his thumb swiftly rubbing on your clit had you quickly nearing that high, thighs trembling and attempting to close. He removed his other hand from your tit to grip your thigh and spread your legs far. He enjoyed the view of your shorts absolutely soaked, the thin white fabric becoming translucent proof of how aroused he could make you. It also let him see that perfect pussy in all its glory.

“so pretty, my gorgeous, gorgeous girl.” he praised, and that was your last straw. Your cunt clenched around his fingers in a vice-like grip before your vision went white and you came with a scream of his name. He nearly came in his boxers at the sight, continuing to pump his long fingers in and out of your soaked cunt to ride out your orgasm.

While you were catching your breath in shallow pants he slowly slid his fingers out of you, admiring the way your slick glistening on them and dripped down to his palm. Without missing a beat—he snaked his tongue out to taste your sweet release, sucking his fingers clean with an exaggerated slurping noise that you would elbow him for if you weren’t half-asleep.

You were still slightly out of breath when you whimpered out a sleepy “thank you..” that made him smirk.

He pressed a loving kiss to the back of your head before nestling his head into your shoulder, holding you tightly once again. You were out like a light almost immediately, but not before catching him whisper, “happy to help.” right into your ear.

[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]

𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐌𝐄 ───── LAMELO BALL

free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine it's crucial that we stand in solidarity with those who need our support. right now, the people of palestine are facing unimaginable hardship, and it's up to all of us to do what we can to help. whether it's raising awareness, donating to relief organizations, or supporting calls for justice and peace, every action counts. we can amplify their voices, shed light on their struggles, and work towards a future where every individual can live with dignity and freedom. your support can make a difference! FREE PALESTINE!

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 5.7k (i got a bit carried away per usual)

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | lamelo spots you courtside, turning in the game of his life just to impress you. what starts as playful banter at an afterparty quickly turns into a connection that neither of you can ignore.

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | lamelo being COCKY AF, ummmmm... mentions of drinking, banter, allusions to lamelo being a hohohoho, just very banter-teasing heavy

⟢ ┈ 𝐞𝐯'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 | i'm feeding the secret lamelo ball fangirls out there cause i see you and i fw you a lot cause ur just liek me, i hope yall enjoy !!!

The buzz of the Spectrum Center feels electric tonight. Maybe it’s the high stakes of the game, or maybe it’s just the way Lilah’s energy rubs off on you—effortless and magnetic, like she was born to thrive under these arena lights. You sit beside her, court-side, her gold bracelets jingling softly as she waves to someone across the court. Her husband, Miles is warming up, all easy confidence and sharp focus. He catches Lilah’s eye, grins, and points toward the two of you, a silent “this one’s for you.”

Lilah leans in, her voice just audible above the noise. “Miles is going to kill it tonight. He always does when I’m here.” She nudges you playfully. “You’re my lucky charm, though, so don’t go thinking you’re off the hook.”

You laugh, shifting in your seat as the players take their positions. Basketball’s never been your scene, but when Lilah called and begged you to come as her plus-one, you couldn’t say no. Something about her insistence—“You need to get out more!”—made it impossible to refuse. And now, as the lights dim and the announcer’s voice booms through the arena, you’re glad you came. The energy is infectious, the atmosphere electric.

Then, your attention shifts.

Number one, LaMelo Ball, steps onto the court. He’s hard to miss—tall, sharp-cut features, and an aura that makes it seem like he knows everyone’s watching him. Which, let’s be honest, they probably are. He moves with a kind of casual arrogance, his presence larger than life even among his teammates. You’ve heard his name a dozen times, always tied to words like prodigy or superstar, but seeing him in person is something else entirely.

And then it happens.

As if sensing your gaze, he glances your way. It’s quick, just a flicker, but enough for his eyes to find yours. Time slows—or maybe it’s just your imagination—because for a moment, it feels like he’s staring straight through the noise and chaos of the arena, right at you. There’s something in his expression—curiosity, intrigue—that makes your breath hitch.

He smirks, the corner of his mouth lifting in a way that’s almost imperceptible, then turns his attention back to the court. But you notice the difference immediately. His movements become sharper, his energy more focused. Every pass, every shot, every step is precise, like he’s putting on a show and you’re the intended audience.

Lilah nudges you again. “I think LaMelo just checked you out.”

You laugh it off, but your pulse betrays you, thudding a little too hard against your ribs. You’re overthinking it, you tell yourself. It’s just a coincidence, an accident.

On the court, LaMelo thrives in the rhythm of the game. He’s always been good at this—reading plays, threading passes, finding space where none should exist. But tonight, something feels different. There’s a spark under his skin, a hum that makes every move sharper, every decision quicker. He knows exactly why.

Between plays, he glances toward the courtside seats again, where you’re sitting with Lilah Bridges. He doesn’t even know your name, but he can’t stop looking. There’s something about the way you’re perched there, so effortlessly composed, your laugh soft but luminous whenever Lilah says something funny. The arena lights hit your face just right, making you impossible to miss, even with the chaos of the game surrounding him.

“Yo, Melo,” Miles mutters during a timeout, smirking as he catches LaMelo glancing toward the sideline. “You good? You’ve been zoned in all night.”

LaMelo grabs a water bottle and takes a quick sip, playing it cool. “I’m always locked in.”

Miles doesn’t let up, chuckling as he leans closer. “Nah, not like this. You’ve been balling like you got something to prove. Who’s got you locked in like that?” He follows LaMelo’s line of sight, and when his gaze lands on you, his grin widens. “Ahhh, I see. You’re been peepin’ Lilah’s friend.”

LaMelo doesn’t confirm or deny it, but the way he smirks back says enough. “Who is she?” he asks, keeping his voice low, casual.

Miles shrugs, wiping his face with a towel. “That’s Lilah’s girl. She’s cool, real chill. Don’t know if she’s your type, though.”

LaMelo raises an eyebrow, his confidence peeking through. “What makes you think she’s not my type?”

Miles laughs, shaking his head. “Man, I’m just saying. She doesn’t seem like the type to get caught up in all... this.” He gestures vaguely to the court, the arena, the larger-than-life spectacle that comes with being LaMelo Ball.

LaMelo doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he lets his eyes drift back to you, the corner of his mouth twitching upward when he catches you clapping at something Lilah says. There’s something about you that feels... different. It’s not just the way you look, though that’s definitely a big part of it. It’s the way you carry yourself, like you’re perfectly content to stay in the background, even though the spotlight would suit you just fine.

“She doesn’t have to get caught up in all this,” he finally says, dribbling the ball idly as the timeout winds down. “I just wanna know her name.”

Miles shakes his head, chuckling. “Good luck with that, man. Lilah’s probably gonna run interference if she thinks you’re trying to pull something.”

LaMelo grins, his confidence unwavering. “Guess I’ll just have to ask her myself.”

When the whistle blows and the game resumes, he’s locked in again—but this time, it’s with a purpose. He’s not just playing for the win. He’s playing to make sure he earns your attention, the same way you’ve unknowingly captured his.

The ball is in his hands again, and LaMelo moves like the court is his stage. Each dribble echoes, every pass and shot calculated to perfection. He’s already good at this—great, even—but tonight, he’s playing like he’s got something to prove. To himself? Maybe. To you? Definitely.

He steals a glance toward the sideline during a lull in the game. You’re still there, leaning slightly toward Lilah as the two of you talk. Whatever she just said has you laughing, your head tilted back, a hand coming up to cover your mouth as if to stifle the sound. It’s unguarded, genuine. LaMelo feels his focus falter for half a second, his gaze lingering just a little too long.

“Yo, stay with me!” His teammate barks as he claps his hands, trying to pull LaMelo’s attention back to the game.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” LaMelo says, waving him off. And he is good—better than good, actually. He’s in a rhythm now, and the team is feeding off his energy. Every basket he scores gets the crowd louder, and every assist he dishes out has the bench on their feet.

But you’re still there, just at the edge of his vision, a quiet distraction that’s becoming harder to ignore.

By halftime, the Hornets are up by ten, and the arena is buzzing with excitement. LaMelo plops down on the bench, catching his breath. Sweat drips from his hairline, and he swipes at it with a towel. As the coaches huddle the team together, his thoughts drift back to you.

Miles is the first to notice. Again.

“You ain’t slick, bro,” Miles says, shaking his head with a grin as he grabs a Gatorade. “I saw you peeking at her all through the second quarter.”

LaMelo scoffs, though he doesn’t bother denying it. “I wasn’t peeking. I was glancing. Big difference.”

Miles laughs, the sound low and knowing. “Whatever you gotta tell yourself. I’m just saying—don’t let Coach catch you getting distracted out here.”

“I’m not distracted,” LaMelo shoots back, leaning forward and lacing his fingers together. His smirk is quick, confident. “I’m locked in. You see the score?”

“Yeah, yeah, we see it,” Miles says, rolling his eyes. “But don’t think I didn’t catch you asking about her earlier. You really gonna make a move on Lilah’s friend?”

“Why not?” LaMelo’s answer is immediate, like he’s already decided.

Miles shakes his head, taking another sip of his drink. “She doesn’t look like the type to fall for all that charm you’re so proud of.”

LaMelo just grins, leaning back against the bench as the coaches wrap up their halftime pep talk. “Good. That’s the fun part.”

The game resumes, and LaMelo’s energy is sharper than ever. The crowd roars with every shot he makes, every assist he dishes. He’s putting on a clinic, and it’s impossible not to notice. The announcers are hyped, the fans are on their feet, and even his teammates are feeding off his fire.

And yet, every time he scores, his eyes flicker back to you.

It’s subtle—so quick that most people wouldn’t catch it—but Miles does. And so does Lilah, apparently. By the fourth quarter, she’s leaning over to whisper something to you, a sly smile on her face. You glance toward the court briefly, and for a split second, your eyes meet LaMelo’s again.

That’s when he knows.

The final buzzer sounds, and the Hornets walk off the court victorious. The energy in the arena is electric, fans cheering as the players exchange high-fives and congratulations. But LaMelo’s already thinking about the afterparty.

As he heads to the locker room, he catches up with Miles. “So, what’s the move tonight?”

Miles raises an eyebrow. “Why you asking me? You don’t usually roll through these things like that.”

LaMelo shrugs, keeping his tone casual. “Just curious. Lilah’s coming, right?”

“Yeah,” Miles says slowly, catching on. “And I’m guessing her friend will be there too?”

LaMelo doesn’t answer, but the look on his face says it all.

Miles chuckles, shaking his head as they head down the tunnel. “Man, you’re bold. Good luck with that one. She’s way out of your league.”

LaMelo smirks, the challenge lighting a spark in his chest. “No such thing as out of my league.”

As he steps into the locker room, his mind is already racing. He doesn’t know much about you yet—just the way you look when you laugh and the fact that you’ve already got him playing like he’s got something to prove.

But he’s determined to find out more.

The afterparty is in full swing by the time you and Lilah walk in, the pulsing bass of the music vibrating through the floor as laughter and conversation fill the space. It’s one of those places that feels effortlessly cool—dim lights, plush leather seating, and enough space for the players to spread out without it feeling cramped. You weren’t planning to have too much fun tonight, but the energy in the room is infectious.

Lilah tugs you along toward the bar, her arm looped through yours. “Okay, first rule of these parties,” she says, grinning as she leans in close, “always let me order your first drink. Miles swears I have good luck when it comes to the bartenders.”

You laugh, watching as she flags someone down with a wave and effortlessly orders for both of you. A minute later, a glass of something bright and fizzy is pressed into your hand. You take a sip, pleasantly surprised by how smooth it is, the citrusy kick warming you from the inside.

“Good, right?” Lilah asks, already sipping hers.

You nod, letting the drink loosen you up as you glance around the room. The players are scattered across the space, some tucked into booths with their significant others, others leaning against the bar, laughing and clinking glasses. It’s easy to spot LaMelo. He’s tall, for one thing, but it’s more than that. He has this magnetism about him, like the energy of the room shifts wherever he goes.

And right now, his attention is on you.

You notice it immediately—the way his eyes seem to find you no matter where you stand. He’s subtle about it, leaning casually against the bar as he talks to one of his teammates, a faint smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. But every so often, his gaze flickers in your direction, lingering just a beat too long before returning to his conversation.

At first, you try to brush it off. He’s probably like this with everyone, you tell yourself. Smooth, confident, the kind of guy who knows the effect he has on people. But the longer it goes on, the harder it is to ignore. Each glance feels deliberate, like he’s testing the waters, waiting to see how you’ll react.

And you can’t help it—you start to react.

You catch yourself standing a little straighter, your laugh a little more unguarded, the occasional glance in his direction just to see if he’s still looking. He always is. It’s a game, one that you didn’t realize you’d started playing, but now that you’re in it, you can’t seem to stop.

“Okay, spill,” Lilah says suddenly, pulling you out of your thoughts. She’s leaning against the bar beside you, her lips curled into a knowing smile.

“Spill what?” you ask, trying to sound casual as you take another sip of your drink.

She tilts her head toward LaMelo, who’s still standing across the room, his attention now fully on you. “Don’t play dumb. I saw the way you two were eyeing each other. What’s the deal?”

“There’s no deal,” you say quickly, but the heat rising to your cheeks betrays you.

“Uh-huh.” Lilah doesn’t look convinced. “He’s been staring at you all night, and don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you keep looking back.”

“I’m not—” you start to protest, but she cuts you off with a laugh.

“Relax,” she says, her tone playful. “I’m not judging. I mean, it’s LaMelo. He’s... well, you’ve seen him. But I’m just saying, if you’re into it, I’d say the interest is mutual.”

You glance back toward him, and sure enough, his eyes meet yours. This time, he doesn’t look away. Instead, he raises his glass slightly in a silent toast, his smirk deepening when you feel yourself falter under his gaze. There’s something disarming about the way he looks at you—confident but not cocky, curious but not overbearing.

“See?” Lilah teases, nudging you with her elbow. “I told you.”

You shake your head, laughing softly as you turn your attention back to her. “I’m just here to have a good time, Lilah. That’s all.”

“And you should,” she says, her smile widening. “But just so you know, if you’re not careful, he’s going to be the highlight of your night.”

You don’t respond, but the way your pulse quickens at her words tells you she might be right.

The party is in full swing now, the music loud enough to vibrate through the soles of your heels, and the energy in the room has shifted into something more electric. A few drinks in, you’re feeling looser, lighter. Lilah’s infectious laughter and Miles’s constant teasing have you at ease, your initial hesitations about the night fading into the background.

You’re seated now, perched on one of the low leather couches with Lilah on one side and Miles on the other, their banter flying back and forth like a friendly game of verbal ping-pong. You chime in every now and then, mostly to laugh or roll your eyes at one of Miles’s exaggerated stories about life on the road with the team.

“Tell me I’m lying,” Miles says, leaning back with a triumphant grin after his latest tale.

“You’re lying,” Lilah shoots back immediately, taking a sip of her drink.

You laugh, shaking your head as you reach for your own glass. The world around you feels pleasantly fuzzy, the edges softened by the buzz in your veins.

“Y’all don’t believe anything I say,” Miles grumbles, though his tone is more amused than annoyed.

“We believe the parts that make sense,” you counter, flashing him a teasing smile.

“Oh, she’s got jokes now,” Miles says, nudging you with his elbow. “Lilah, where’d you find her? She’s got a little spice.”

Lilah grins, leaning toward you conspiratorially. “You should see her when she’s really on a roll. She’ll have you questioning your whole life.”

You laugh again, the sound light and unguarded. It’s been a while since you’ve felt this carefree, and you let yourself sink into it, the atmosphere wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

But then, out of the corner of your eye, you see him.

LaMelo.

He’s making his way across the room, his long strides purposeful but not rushed. He’s dressed casually—ripped jeans, a designer jacket, and a chain that catches the light just right—but there’s something about the way he carries himself that makes him impossible to ignore.

“Yo, Miles,” LaMelo calls out as he approaches, his voice cutting through the hum of the party.

Miles looks up, grinning as he leans back against the couch. “What’s good, Melo?”

LaMelo stops in front of the group, his hands tucked into his pockets as he nods toward Miles. “Just making my rounds. What’re you over here talking about?”

“Oh, you know, just telling these ladies about how I carried you last season,” Miles says, his grin widening.

LaMelo rolls his eyes, his smile lazy and amused. “Yeah, sure. That’s why your stats were looking real pedestrian, huh?”

Lilah laughs, nudging Miles. “Don’t let him come over here and do you like that.”

“I’m gonna let him have it,” Miles says with a wave of his hand. “Only because I’m in a good mood.”

LaMelo chuckles, his gaze sliding over to you for the first time. His smile softens, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch.

“And who’s this?” he asks, his voice dropping just slightly, the playful lilt in his tone unmistakable.

Lilah jumps in before you can answer, her grin smug. “This is my girl. Be nice, Melo.”

LaMelo raises his hands in mock surrender, his eyes still on you. “I’m always nice.”

You can’t help but smile, the warmth of his attention settling over you like a spotlight. “I’m [Your Name],” you say, your voice steady despite the way your pulse has quickened.

“LaMelo,” he says, extending a hand toward you. His fingers are warm when they close around yours, his grip firm but not overpowering.

“I know,” you say, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

His smile deepens, a flash of teeth that somehow feels both charming and dangerous. “You know, huh? Should I be flattered or nervous?”

“Depends,” you reply, your lips curving into a sly smile. “Do you usually get nervous when someone knows who you are?”

Miles lets out a low whistle, shaking his head as he looks between the two of you. “Oh, this is about to be good.”

LaMelo chuckles, leaning slightly closer, though he’s careful not to invade your space. “I don’t get nervous,” he says, his tone easy but confident. “But I gotta admit, you got me curious now.”

“Curious about what?” you ask, tilting your head slightly.

“About you,” he says simply. “Lilah’s been holding out on me.”

“Oh, don’t drag me into this,” Lilah says, laughing as she raises her hands. “You can ask her whatever you want. I’m staying out of it.”

The conversation flows easily after that, his questions playful but sincere, your answers just teasing enough to keep him on his toes. The world around you fades, the music and the chatter of the party becoming a distant hum as you go back and forth.

Every now and then, you catch Lilah watching you, a small, knowing smile on her face. You can feel the heat of LaMelo’s gaze every time he looks at you, and you’re not sure if it’s the drinks or the chemistry between you, but you find yourself leaning into it, letting the moment stretch and unfold in ways you hadn’t anticipated.

And when he laughs—low and genuine—you realize you don’t mind it at all.

As the conversation flows, Lilah gives you a sly smile and stands, tugging on Miles’s arm. “Come on, babe, let’s grab another round,” she says, her tone overly casual.

Miles glances at her, then at you and LaMelo, and smirks knowingly. “Oh, I see how it is. Melo’s about to show off his ‘game,’ huh?”

“Go,” Lilah says, rolling her eyes and shoving his shoulder lightly. She looks at you one last time, her expression smug. “Have fun, girl.”

You watch them disappear into the crowd, your laugh trailing after them, but the moment they’re gone, you feel the shift in the air. It’s subtle, like the space between you and LaMelo suddenly carries a different weight.

“Guess it’s just us now,” LaMelo says, leaning back against the couch with an easy confidence.

“Looks like it,” you reply, glancing at him over the rim of your glass.

“So,” he starts, stretching the word out as his eyes flicker over you with a mix of curiosity and amusement, “how long you been friends with Lilah?”

You set your glass down on the low table in front of you and cross your legs, meeting his gaze head-on. “Long enough to know she’s trouble.”

He chuckles, the sound low and warm. “Yeah, Miles says the same thing, but I think they balance each other out.”

“Definitely,” you agree, your lips curving into a small smile. “She keeps him in check, though. You should’ve seen her last week when he left his sneakers in the living room. I thought she was going to throw them out the window.”

LaMelo laughs, shaking his head. “Miles? Yeah, that sounds about right. Dude’s messy as hell. He leaves his stuff everywhere in the locker room too.”

You raise an eyebrow, tilting your head slightly. “And you’re not messy?”

He smirks, leaning forward a bit. “I didn’t say that. But I’m smarter about it. I know when to clean up.”

“Oh, so you’re strategic about your messiness,” you tease, the corner of your mouth twitching upward.

“Exactly,” he says, his grin widening. “You get it.”

There’s a pause, not awkward but charged, the kind of silence that feels more like a question waiting to be answered. His eyes stay locked on yours, the intensity of his gaze softened by the hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“You’re not what I expected,” he says finally, his tone thoughtful.

You blink, surprised. “What do you mean?”

He shrugs, leaning back again, his arms draped casually along the top of the couch. “I don’t know. Most people at these parties, they’re either trying too hard to impress or acting like they don’t care at all. But you… you’re different.”

“Different how?” you ask, narrowing your eyes slightly.

He tilts his head, studying you like he’s trying to solve a puzzle. “You’re real. Like, you’re here, but you’re not trying to be seen, you know? And you’re funny. Most people wouldn’t call me out for being messy two minutes into a conversation.”

You laugh, feeling a flush of warmth creep up your neck. “Well, maybe you’re just easy to tease.”

“Oh, I am?” he asks, his eyebrows lifting in mock surprise.

“Definitely,” you say, your tone playful. “You’ve got that vibe.”

“What vibe?”

“The kind that says you’re used to getting your way, so you don’t know what to do when someone gives you a hard time.”

He lets out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. “Damn, you don’t hold back, huh?”

“Not really,” you admit, shrugging. “But you don’t seem to mind.”

“I don’t,” he says, his voice softening just enough to make your stomach flip. “I like it.”

For a moment, the world around you seems to fade, the noise of the party dulling to a distant hum. He’s leaning slightly closer now, his elbows resting on his knees as he looks at you like you’re the most interesting thing in the room. And maybe it’s the drinks or the way his smile feels like a secret he’s letting you in on, but you find yourself leaning in too, just enough to match his energy.

“What about you?” he asks suddenly, breaking the silence.

“What about me?”

“Why are you here tonight?”

You laugh softly, gesturing toward the general chaos of the party. “Lilah dragged me, obviously.”

“Obviously,” he echoes, his smile turning teasing. “But you’re staying. That means something.”

“Maybe I just like good company,” you counter, raising an eyebrow.

“And am I good company?” he asks, his tone dipping just enough to make your pulse quicken.

You meet his gaze, holding it for a beat longer than you probably should. “You’re okay,” you say finally, your lips curving into a teasing smile.

“Just okay?” he asks, feigning offense as he presses a hand to his chest. “Damn, I thought I was doing better than that.”

“You could be,” you reply, leaning back and crossing your arms. “Guess you’ll have to step up your game.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “Alright, I see how it is. You’re a challenge.”

“Is that a... bad thing?”

“Not at all,” he says, his grin softening into something more genuine. “I like a challenge.”

And just like that, the banter shifts into something deeper, the playful teasing giving way to a quieter connection. You can feel it in the way he looks at you, like he’s trying to memorize every detail, and in the way your own walls start to lower, letting him in just a little more than you expected.

And for the first time that night, you wonder if Lilah was right. Maybe this party was worth it after all.

The night deepens, the party’s energy settling into a comfortable rhythm as conversations grow louder and laughter fills the spaces between songs. The buzz of a few drinks has made everything feel lighter, easier, and you find yourself more at ease than you’ve been in a while.

LaMelo is right there with you, his laughter rich and unrestrained, his eyes lighting up every time you say something witty. You’ve lost track of time somewhere between his playful teasing and the stories you’ve been swapping, your banter feeling less like a first meeting and more like reconnecting with someone you’ve known forever.

“You fell off a jet ski because... you weren’t paying attention?” you say, your laughter bubbling over as he shakes his head, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips.

“I wasn’t paying attention because my brother was trying to race me!” he defends, leaning forward as if his explanation will make it sound less ridiculous.

“And how’d that work out for you?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

He laughs, shrugging. “It didn’t. Clearly.”

You shake your head, the grin on your face refusing to fade. “You’re a mess, you know that?”

“I’ve been told,” he says, his gaze steady on yours. There’s something in his tone, in the way he looks at you right then, that sends a small thrill through you.

As the conversation flows, the space between you feels smaller, even though neither of you has moved. The music thumps steadily in the background, but it’s like you’ve created your own bubble, the party fading into a distant hum.

At some point, Lilah and Miles return to your little corner, Lilah plopping down next to you with an exaggerated sigh. “Okay, I’m officially tired,” she announces, though the glint in her eye suggests she’s anything but.

“You’re always tired,” Miles teases, slinging an arm around her shoulders.

“Don’t start,” she warns, though her smile softens the words. Her gaze flickers between you and LaMelo, and you can see the gears turning in her head.

“What?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at her suspicious expression.

“Nothing,” she says, dragging the word out as she leans closer. “Just noticing how much fun you’re having over here.”

“Lilah,” you warn, though you can’t hide the small smile tugging at your lips.

“Don’t mind her,” LaMelo says, his voice easy and warm. “She’s just jealous I’m better company than she is.”

“Oh, please,” Lilah scoffs, though she looks thoroughly entertained. “Anyway, we’re heading out soon. You two wrapping this up or what?”

You glance at LaMelo, unsure how to answer, but he beats you to it. “Not yet,” he says simply, his eyes still on you.

Miles chuckles, standing and pulling Lilah to her feet. “Alright, we’ll leave you to it. Don’t have too much fun now.”

“We won’t,” you say, rolling your eyes as they walk away, though you can feel your cheeks heating.

LaMelo leans back, his expression unreadable for a moment before he smiles. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you say, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “They’re just... nosy.”

“They mean well,” he says, his tone easy. “But they’re definitely nosy.”

You laugh, and just like that, the playful atmosphere returns. Another round of drinks later, you’re both laughing over some absurd story he’s telling about a teammate, the kind of laughter that makes your stomach ache and your eyes water. You can’t remember the last time you felt this comfortable with someone so quickly, and it’s equal parts exhilarating and terrifying.

As the night winds down, you find yourself sitting closer to him than you were before, the warmth of his presence almost tangible. When the conversation finally slows, he looks at you, his expression softening.

“This was fun,” he says, his voice quieter than it’s been all night.

“It was,” you agree, smiling.

“I should probably let you go before Lilah comes back and drags you out of here,” he says, though there’s a reluctant note in his tone.

“Probably,” you say, but neither of you moves right away.

After a beat, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, holding it out to you. “Here. Put your number in.”

You hesitate for only a second before taking it, your fingers tapping at the screen as you save your contact. When you hand it back, he glances at it, his smile widening just slightly. “Got it.”

You stand together, and he walks you toward where Lilah and Miles are waiting near the entrance. LaMelo lingers as you say your goodbyes, his hands tucked into his pockets and that easy smile still on his face.

“You heading out too?” Miles asks, clapping LaMelo on the back.

“Yeah, in a bit,” he says, his eyes flickering to you briefly.

As you step outside into the cool night air, Lilah hooks her arm through yours, a knowing smile on her face. “Well, that went better than I expected,” she says as you walk toward the car.

“What do you mean?” you ask, though you can feel your heart beating a little faster.

“I mean,” she says, drawing the word out, “that Melo doesn’t usually exchange phone numbers. He usually... invites girls over.”

“Oh,” you say, your voice softer than you intended.

“Oh,” Lilah mimics, her grin widening. “Girl, he’s interested. And don’t act like you’re not, too.”

You don’t reply, but the small smile that creeps across your face says more than words ever could.

The morning sunlight filtered through your curtains, warm but unwelcome as it coaxed you awake. You squinted at the brightness, groaning softly as you turned over in bed. The faint hum of last night’s energy still lingered in your veins, memories of laughter and teasing banter replaying in fragments. Your mind, unbidden, drifted back to LaMelo. The way his smile had crinkled the corners of his eyes, the low timbre of his laugh, the quiet confidence that seemed to fill the space around him.

You reached for your phone on the nightstand, swiping it open almost instinctively. No messages. Your stomach sank a little, disappointment curling low in your chest. Not that you were expecting anything—not really. Still, you’d exchanged numbers. It wasn’t unreasonable to think he’d reach out. A simple “good morning” or a follow-up joke from last night. Something.

But the screen stayed blank.

With a huff, you tossed the phone aside, telling yourself it didn’t matter. You barely knew him. He owed you nothing. And yet, you couldn’t ignore the slight pang of rejection. Shaking off the feeling, you got out of bed and set about your day, throwing yourself into work to keep your mind from wandering too much.

The next few days passed in a blur of tasks and deadlines. You kept busy—busier than usual, if only to distract yourself from the lingering thoughts of LaMelo. You told yourself you weren’t thinking about him, that you didn’t care whether he texted or not. But every time your phone buzzed, your heart betrayed you, skipping a beat before you realized it was just an email or a message from Lilah.

By midweek, you’d all but convinced yourself to forget about him entirely. Clearly, whatever connection you thought you’d felt hadn’t been mutual. And that was fine. Disappointing, sure, but fine. You’d move on. You always did.

It was late afternoon when it happened. You were sitting at your desk, half-focused on your laptop while sipping from a cup of tea. Your phone vibrated on the table beside you, a faint buzz you almost ignored. But something made you glance over.

One new message.

You picked up the phone, the screen lighting up in your hand. And there it was.

hey, it’s lamelo

Two words. That was all it took to send your heart into an unreasonably giddy tailspin. You stared at the message, your mind scrambling for a response even as your pulse quickened. You tried to play it cool, telling yourself it wasn’t a big deal. But the stupid smile tugging at your lips betrayed you completely.

For a moment, you just held the phone, rereading the message as if it might disappear. Finally, you started typing back, deleting and retyping several times before settling on a response.

hi, took you long enough

You hesitated, your thumb hovering over the send button. Was that too flirty? Too casual? But before you could overthink it any further, you hit send, the message disappearing into the ether.

The wait for his reply felt endless, though it couldn’t have been more than a minute. When your phone buzzed again, your heart leapt.

had to make sure you’d still be interested

You laughed out loud, shaking your head at his audacity. It was classic LaMelo—cocky but somehow charming enough to pull it off.

and what if i wasn’t? you shot back, your fingers flying over the keyboard.

His response came almost immediately.

guess i’d have to work harder to change your mind

You smiled, biting your lip to keep from grinning too widely. If there was one thing LaMelo knew how to do, it was keep you on your toes. And, despite yourself, you realized you were more than okay with that.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[lunicho]

most likely to be into breeding …. asking for no reason what so ever

fuma!!! nicho!!! i feel like they love cumming inside of u and telling you they're gonna give u their babies. they love seeing cum drip out of you and seeing the way you're filled with cum under them 😩. i feel like fuma does it from a place of being so in love with u that the thought of giving you babies makes his heart pound whereas nicho is similar but it's also bc the fact that you trust him enough and love him enough to let him do this is addicting. like nicho loves that he can really make u his in this way 😖 fuma would push his dick as far as he can into you while he cums, feeling your walls clench around him would make him groan lowly, this is one of the top 10 best moments for him i just know it. nicho would grip onto your hips so hard while he does this and he would quietly say little praises to you while he fills u up and just 😩😩😩

[pinkmelodie]

König & his demonic back shots are plaguing my thoughts 😣😣

Warnings: 18+, this is pure filth so like yeah🤨 König x female reader, p in v, just a short blurb ୨୧

Cause I know damn well this man would give the FILTHIEST back shots. Like you feel like your being resurrected every time he slams you onto his cock.

“Maus- oh fuuuuck…” He groaned, drilling into you with so much force the bed shook.

You were moaning and screaming into the pillow, your backside being held up completely by him. He manhandled you on his cock like a doll, mindlessly slamming into your cunt over and over like he was trying to fuck the demons right out of his body.

He reached down and circled your waist, holding you up with just one arm. With his free hand he rubbed at your clit, always making sure you feel good no matter how pussy-drunk he is. The man is just so big—it feels like he’s everywhere. If you didn’t know any better you’d assume he was reaching all the way down to your throat. The slight pain of him slamming into your cervix overwhelmed your senses and heightened the pleasure along with the feeling of him playing with your clit. You doubted either of you were making it there after this but you could have swore you saw a flash of heavens gates every time he plunged into you.

He spread your legs wider and angled his thrusts to meet that spongey spot inside you every time his pelvis met your ass with an audible slap ! Even the sound of the headboard slamming into the wall wasn’t enough to drown out both your noises. This was definitely gonna earn you a noise complaint—tho it was worth it for the mind blowing orgasm that washed over you when that coil in your stomach finally snapped.

You came all over his cock, leaving a sticky white ring around the base of it that he couldn’t keep his eyes off of every time he slid his thick cock in and out again. With a pathetic whimper you never thought you’d hear come out of a man of his size, he pressed into you as deep as your body would let him and came hard. 

So much of his seed was stuffed inside you that it began to flow out, dripping all over both of your thighs. Before you could complain, he collapsed on top of you, crushing you with his weight. It felt like being stuck under a city bus, but you just sighed and let him have this one.

[pinkmelodie]

Shooting practice with Jason ⭑

( -_•)︻デ═一 pow ! ✮⋆˙

“are you even trying?” He asks with an unimpressed look. When you continue to fumble with the gun (possibly on purpose), he groans and takes matters into his own hands.

“No- here, like this.” He grabs your hands and positions them on the pistol, adjusting your fingers and correcting the way you held your arms out with clear experience.

He nudged your legs into proper position, grabbing your waist and guiding you to a slight angle.

It was an innocent action but your face is burning. When you try to take the shot again all you can think of is the lingering feeling of his scarred hands on your waist and you miss completely, hands shaking far too much to hit a proper shot.

You frown in embarrassment at being so easily distracted, but before you can think on it too much he comes up behind you, placing his hands over yours and raising your arms. His face is close enough that you can hear his warm voice right next to your ear, and it sends shivers down your spine.

“Come on, keep trying. I know you can do it,” he encourages with a smile. He’s just being a helpful friend, trying to teach you how to properly defend yourself, and here you are thinking of how good he sounds humming encouragements into your ear.

You’re glad he’s behind you so he can’t spot how red your face is turning. You take a second to prepare yourself or you just want to feel his hands on yours a little longer and with a deep breath you take the shot, hitting the target dead centre.

His grin widens. “See? you’re a natural!” He boasts dramatically and steps back, and your expression dips at the loss of contact. “now try it without my help,” he asks.

You get back into proper stance and aim perfectly, stance corrected and shoulders back, but when the moment comes, you miss again, mind utterly clouded.

He raises an eyebrow. “You can’t be this bad,” he jokes. “something got you distracted?” He steps to face you now and immediately notices your flushed expression.

He may be a little dense when it comes to romantics, but he’s not an idiot. Rather than tease you he just smiles reassuringly and covers your hand in his again, reaching his left one to rest softly on your waist.

He’s pressed against your back now and you want to squeal at the way his body basically covers yours completely. He rests his chin on your shoulder, eyeing you calmly like you weren’t on the brink of imploding. His voice is soft, like a whisper in your ear when he urges, “do it for me, yeah?”

And you do, abiding without a second thought and pressing down on the trigger. The hand on your waist is trailing down to your hip and tracing patterns on it, like he was trying to distract you. Yet somehow, you manage to make a good shot.

You’re still red in the face when just like that he backs away, smiling innocently again like nothing happened. You gawk at him and he just laughs and walks away, throwing out a quick: “told you.”

[melo-bees]

Guts (P.1)

Summary: in which you feel abandoned by your best friend.

Content and warnings: ANGST, very heavy angst, mentions of blood, thoughts of harming others (?), childhood best friend! Coryo. Basically just a bunch of unrequited love angst. Minor body dysmorphia.

A/N: this is probably the most angst thing I’ve ever written. But I’m actually quite proud of how this came out! Also please listen to the song attached to get the context! Thank you!!

Jealously was not something that you were familiar with until these past few weeks.

But now the feeling followed you around like virus. It sunk into your gut and stayed there everything you went nowadays. The feeling flared whenever you thought of him, your childhood best friend, Coriolanus Snow.

You’d been close since the first day of kindergarten. You’d spotted him from across the classroom in his little uniform. He had the brightest bluest eyes you had ever seen and you were immediately intrigued.

From that moment on you had made it your goal to befriend him which came with a little trial and error. The boy a little cold towards everyone it seemed (especially a boy in your grade who was district 2). But your positive attitude had eventually melted his cold exterior. You were attached at the hip since then. You were proud to be his friend too. You were always gushing about high and showing him off to your other friends.

Now you were both in your final years at the academy. Coriolanus and you had been assigned to mentor tributes for the 10th annual hunger games. You hadn’t been too worried about the assignment, you simply didn’t need to win the prize that would be awarded with it. But Coriolanus was working tirelessly to ensure that he would win the prize with his tribute. Much to your dissatisfaction, that meant he had pulled away from you. You hardly saw him anymore and even worse, there were rumors flying around about him and his tribute, Lucy Gray Baird.

She was a star, all shiny and bright. As soon as you had laid eyes on her you felt that virus grow in your stomach. Jealously. The feeling grew and boiled in your gut when you saw Coriolanus taking to her through the zoo bars. He was smiling. He only ever smiled at you like that, why was she getting the same treatment you had always received? The jealousy you felt had turned into an ugly feeling. A ugly, insecure pit grew inside your heart.

How could you ever compare to his shiny new tribute? You couldn’t sing like her and you sure weren’t a born performer like her. You couldn’t captivate anyone with a smile like she could. Your insecurities grew everyone she fluttered her eyelashes in Coriolanus’ direction. You thought you were nowhere near the same level as beautiful as Lucy Gray was. Sometimes you even found yourself thinking you had been given the wrong body. You wanted to beautiful like her. You wanted to be beautiful for Coriolanus. You could see that he was absolutely smitten with her.

To save yourself you had tried to push Coriolanus and his star tribute to the far walls of your mind. You hadn’t really spoken to him in weeks due to the mentoring position. Which to your delight, kept you quite occupied. Although as the hunger games grew closer there were less distractions. But while you were happy with the distraction the feeling of jealousy only grew worse and it turned into a feeling of resentment towards Coriolanus. It simmered in your stomach next to the pit of jealousy. You weren’t quite sure why you were jealous of Lucy Gray, perhaps you just didn’t want your position as his best friend to be given to someone else.

One night you were sitting in your bedroom when you got a call from another girl from the academy, Clemensia Dovecote. She was a nice girl, a little bratty at times sure, but she was your friend nonetheless. Clemensia was hosting a party for the mentors at her parents house. You happily agreed to attend and told her you’d be there in a few short hours.

You arrived at the party in a few hours as promised. You wore a pretty white sundress with lace flowers embroidered out the edges of the sleeves and skirt. You looked darling, according to some of the other female mentors. These were the people you had surrounded yourself with at the party.

After a bit of chatting you excused yourself to the kitchen to find a drink. For a small party for the mentors the house was quite crowded. You squeezed yourself into the kitchen. This space was also crowded. You were being shoved every which way and soon you collided with someone. You felt backwards into their chest. A pair of familiar hands encircled your waist to keep you study.

“Woah, are you alright there?” The voice behind you asked. A shiver ran down your spine. You knew who the voice belonged to.

You pulled yourself out of Coriolanus’ arms. Your heart was beating loudly in your ears and you began to smooth out your dress, avoiding eye contact.

“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you.” You muttered a little too bitterly for Coriolanus’ liking. He reached out and rested a big hand on your shoulder which almost made you jump. A vile feeling cropped up into your stomach as you glanced up at him. He was wearing that smile that was reserved for you but now had been shared with Lucy Gray as well.

“I haven’t seen you in awhile. I’m sorry I haven’t called or anything…I’ve just been so busy with-“

“With Lucy Gray. I know.” You cut him off and shrugged his hand off. You tucked your hair behind your ears and crossed your arms. Coriolanus’ eyes flickered with confusion when you shrugged him off, his smile faltered for a moment. But then it came back as nothing happened.

“You know, I might actually have a chance at winning I think. Sure she isn’t very strong or anything but she’s popular with the people so far. I mean you’ve heard her sing it’s really something.” Coriolanus explained with that charming smile on his face. The way he talked about Lucy Gray made you bristle. You nodded curtly and began to shove your way past him. You didn’t want to hear anymore about her.

“That’s good Coryo, good luck.” You muttered. But then you felt someone grab your arm. Coriolanus. You spun around and met his gaze. His eyes were full of concern and hurt.

“Hey, where are you going? I still want to talk with you.” Coriolanus said softly. You scoffed and tore your arm away from him. You shook your head and crossed your arms again.

“So now you want to talk. Why is that? It is because your little songbird isn’t here to entertain you?” You blurted out. As soon as you spoke a hand flew up to cover your mouth. Coriolanus was left standing there was a look of hurt and confusion on his face.

“What? No, of course not. I just want to catch up with you.” He mumbled to you. Those bright blue eyes bore into your soul. You felt guilt bubble up but it was quickly replaced with the pent up resentment you felt. Your fists curled into balls.

“After all these weeks you want to watch up at a party? You could’ve called me before! But now you want to talk?” You spoke in disbelief. Your voice was gradually growing louder. You were getting looks from the other partygoers in the kitchen. Coriolanus must have noticed because he gently tugged on your wrist and pulled you out of the kitchen, despite your struggle. He stopped in an empty hallway. Coriolanus turned to you and looked down at you, a pained expression crossed his face.

“Where is this all coming from? We’ve both been busy with mentoring. I haven’t had time-“

“Of course you haven’t had time! You’ve been too occupied with your tribute!” You interrupted him again. Jealously bubbled in your throat and spewed out with your words. Coriolanus’ stood in front of you, his eyes full of hurt. It almost made you want to punch that look off his face.

“Why are you so upset? She’s my ticket to university. You out of all people should know that.” Coriolanus muttered. His bright eyes searched your face. You huffed and shook your head.

“That doesn’t mean you have to get friendly with her.” You shot back. You couldn’t stop words from spilling from your mouth now, “What’s so special about her anyways? She’s just some girl who can sing! She isn’t going to last in that arena! Why are you wasting your time on her when you could be spending time with me!” It all spewed out of your mouth before you could stop it. Your chest was heaving as you glared up at Coriolanus. His expression softened and a small frown grew on his face. That only angered you more.

“Why are you wasting time on a girl with a death penalty practically hanging over her head? Why are you so kind to her? She isn’t worth your time, Coryo! She won’t ever be! You say she’s your ticket to university but I’d help you with the cost you know that! I’ll always help you with what ever you need! I’ve been here for you and I always will be because-“ You cut yourself off before the words come roll off your tongue. You bit it back and swallowed. Coriolanus reached out for you.

“I’m sorry-“ He began but you swatted his hand away and shook your head. You turned around in the hallway and began walking.

“I don’t want to hear it Coriolanus.” You called back bitterly as you began walking through Clemensias house. You had been so close to spilling your secret. A secret you had also hidden from yourself.

You wished you had the guts to punch him in the hallway and left him bleeding there.

[pinkmelodie]

Bbf!Jason who hates your ex.. .

~ 18+

“Can you believe this? his following is still filled with other girls! Did he even like me at all??” You whine, scrolling through your ex’s instagram who you swore to Jason you already blocked.

“and it’s like I should be pissed at him, but at the same time I just want to be with him again!” You ramble, oblivious to the grip on your hip tightening in frustration. “I should text him. No, wait, shit, should I text him?” You asked, turning to your bestfriend who’s currently holding your hips up.

“are you seriously asking me about your ex while I’m balls deep inside you?” He groaned while rubbing scarred hands along your hips.

You fiddled with the sheets for a moment before frowning, “…well do you agree?”

He glares and before you can even think he's pushing your face into the pillow and quickening his pace until he’s slamming his pulsing cock directly into your sweet spot. Your eyes roll back with every brutal thrust and you can’t even catch your breath, loud moans of his name being muffled by his scarred hands entangled in your hair and shoving your face down. You’re drooling over the pillow, pussy squelching on his dick. You’re a mess, yet he just hums and admires the cockdrunk haze you settle in that stops you from whining about your shitty ex for once.

I mean come on, you could do so much better. He could treat you so much better, If only you’d let him.

~ ~ ~ Sorry for slow uploads! I don’t even have an excuse tbh. I’m just a lazy mf. Heres some food tho!

[melo-bees]

Snowy Escape

Summary: in which you and Coriolanus get away from the stress of the Capitol

Warnings: none! Just some good ol’ tooth rotting fluff!

A/N: sorry this took so long to get out! But I really enjoyed writing this!

The holidays were a busy time in the Capitol. Everyone decorated their houses extravagantly for each holiday, the streets were lit with Christmas lights and equally bright faces. It was a wonderful time really. Main Street was lit up for the approaching winter holidays. Shops with windows were adorned with Christmas trees and strings of ornaments.

Citizens wrapped up in overly warm coats waddled about the city with cheery rosy-cheeked grins. Holiday spirit was flowing through the entirety of the Capitol. It truly was magical.

But with holiday buzz strict deadlines also came. Especially for the President of Panem. Coriolanus Snow had been fond of the winter months and holidays when he was younger. Before the war the Snows used to decorate his family’s penthouse to be the most festive home on the block. They threw Christmas and New Year’s parties each year. And the gifts he received as a child were wonderful. After the war, though, the holidays were a cruel reminder of what he had lost. He no longer had a big family to celebrate with. Coriolanus’ cousin and grandmother were too poor to afford presents each year. They could no longer throw parties because of the constant risk someone would discover how poor the Snows truly were. So by his teenage years he had simply stopped celebrating the holidays all together. That was until he met *you*. You had always been full of light and love from the moment he met you, that’s one of the reasons he quickly married you. He couldn’t bear to lose such a bright life in his life. Then, during the holidays your spirits grew tenfold. Your first few Christmas’ together were magical. You had quite the obsession with decking out the manor with the most extraordinary decorations. In fact, there was a tree in almost every room. Coriolanus loved spending these moments with you but they became fewer and far between once he became President.

Your husband was swamped with work. Coriolanus barely left his desk. He hadn’t even let you in to decorate his office because he thought it would be too distracting and just couldn’t have that. This made your heart ache for your husband, you thought you had healed his perspective on the holidays. Now he sat shut up in his office each holiday.

After decorating one of the last rooms in the house you approached his office. You had enough of his attitude towards the holidays. You hated seeing him cooped up in a cold room by himself. So you brought up the issue with Coriolanus. Eventually, after a bit of talking he had come up with the idea of buying a nice cabin on the snowy outskirts of the Capitol.

It had been several years since the purchase of the cabin and you adored every moment you had spent there over the holidays. Now that it was the holiday season again, the two of you had packed your things for your annual two week getaway.

The drive up to the cabin was just as magical as spending time in it. The streets were covered with a canopy of snow-topped trees. Evergreen trees acted as protection from the busy Capitol life. You couldn’t take your eyes off the window. Your husband chuckled beside you.

“You know dear, you seem so fascinated by the woods, I might just have to leave you to the trees and take the cabin to myself.”

You turned to him with a cheery smile, a smile that always made his expression soften.

“You’d get lonely in the cabin all by yourself,” you said simply. Coriolanus smiled fondly back to you. He put an arm around your shoulder as the car ride continued.

“I suppose there’s some truth to that, sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. You curled up next to him in the car, the drive was a peaceful one and you were grateful that you were lucky enough to spend this time with him.

The snow filled drive only took about two hours. It was late afternoon by the time you arrived at the cabin.

The cabin itself was beautiful and extravagant. It more of a log mansion than a cabin but Coriolanus wouldn’t settle for anything smaller. The front of the cabin had humongous windows facing the snowy woods. There was a steep driveway up to the front door which was being a pain to get up to at the moment. The driver hadn’t been able to pull the car all the way up and stopped in front of the driveway. Coriolanus grumbled under his breath beside you. You place a delicate hand on his shoulder and smiled. His expression relaxed.

“It’s alright, dear. We don’t have much to bring in anyways. The driveway is only a few feet long we’ll just bring everything up with us,” you suggested. Miraculously Coriolanus agreed to this plan. He made sure you were bundled up in your long winter coat before leaving the car. He even made you pull a pair of gloves and a hat on from one of the bags. You thought he was being silly until you stepped outside. The cold immediately nipped at your nose. A cold chill ran through your body. Coriolanus stepped out of the car and walked over to you. He wrapped an arm around your waist and met your eyes.

“You can go inside if you’d like. I can grab everything we need.” He tapped his fingers on his waist anxiously. Coriolanus hated seeing you in any sort of discomfort. You shook your head with a bright smile.

“I’m alright! We’ll just be quick about getting everything inside.”

Coriolanus looked you over with a slightly worried expression. He didn’t want you to get too cold. But after a moment or two he nodded and pressed his warm lips to your cold cheek.

“Alright dove, let’s grab our luggage and go inside.”

It only took about 3 trips to move all of your belongings from the car to inside the cabin. The cabin itself was chilly on the inside as well. You shivered and hugged your arms around yourself. Coriolanus noticed this and shed his coat, draping it around your shoulders with a quick kiss to your temple.

“Come sit on the couch, my love. I’ll get a fire going. You’ll be warm in no time,” he said as he gently looped his arm around yours and led you to sit on the plush velvet couch. You curled up in his coat and watched Coriolanus place wooden logs in the fireplace. It was different to see him doing so domestic. Usually the two of you would call for some kind of servant to light a fire but you didn’t have those luxuries here. You didn’t mind, though. In fact you found it endearing. Coriolanus struck a match and threw it into the fireplace, setting the logs ablaze slowly. He gently blew on the flame to coax the fire. After a minute or two a fairly healthy flame grew in the hearth. He stepped back and found his place beside you on the couch. Coriolanus wrapped a strong arm around you and his shoulders relaxed noticeably.

“Hello, sweetheart.” He whispered. He moved a gentle hand to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. The gesture made your heart flutter as always.

“Hi, Coryo.” You whispered back to him, the nickname falling off your tongue effortlessly. Coriolanus smiled at his as well and nuzzled his semi-cold nose into your hair. You shivered with a light giggle and he enveloped you in his arms. He held you to his chest with a tight squeeze. You rested your head against his broad shoulders.

“I’ve missed you.” He whispered into your hairline. You tilted your head up to look at him through your eyelashes. You spoke teasingly and rubbed his chest.

“Well, I hope you missed me a lot because you’re going to be bound to me for the next two weeks. You might go insane.”

That brought a smile to his face and he nuzzled his nose against your hairline again. He chuckled and murmured.

“You drive me insane anyways.” This earned him a playful smack to the chest and you shook your head.

“Oh hush.”

The two of you stayed wrapped up in each other for a good few minutes. That’s until you turned your head to see the lonely Christmas tree standing tall in the living room. The two of you had just decided to leave it up all year long so safe the hassle of having to put it down before leaving the cabin. Although, the other decorations were missing. The cabin almost felt lonely.

Coriolanus must have noticed how you looked around and he tilted his head.

“Should we put the decorations now, love?”

Within a few hours the cabin was already more festive than it had ever been. (You couldn’t stop yourself from purchasing more decorations in the city before your arrival). The mantle and fireplace were decorated with stockings and faux holly covered in snow. The grand windows in the cabin were trimmed with the same snowy holly. Lights were wrapped around banisters tastefully and the tree was halfway done with being decorated. An old record was playing the background. Coriolanus had mentioned it was from before the war or something like that. You hung ornaments on the tree meticulously and swayed to the music. Coriolanus was working on the other side of the tree. Or at least that’s what you thought until a pair of warm hands landed on your waist. Warm lips found your shoulder. A light laugh left your mouth and you peeked over your shoulder. Coriolanus was standing over you and swaying a little. He reached for an ornament in your hand and set it to the side. You laughed again and raised an eyebrow.

“I was going to put that on the tree. You know, where it belongs?”

He hummed and shook his head. Coriolanus’ gentle hands turned you towards him. He pulled you away from the tree and to the center of the living room.

“Take a break for a moment, darling.” He said gently. He reached up and smoothed your hair back. You smiled and raised your eyebrows, your eyes meeting his icy blue ones. There was a playful glint in his eye.

“Take a break and do what?” You asked with a small hum.

“Dance, my darling. Dance.” He said quietly. He placed a hand on your hip and squeezed the hand he was already holding. You smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder in return and swayed with him. Coriolanus hummed to the music and pressed his forehead against yours. He closed his eyes and you closed yours in return.

“What’s this song called?” You asked softly.

“Baby, It’s Cold Outside, I believe. It sounds quite old doesn’t it?” He said and then went back to humming. You let out a light giggle and listened to his voice. You loved moments like this with him. These calm peaceful moments were the highlight of your life and you held them dearly to your heart. Moments like these made you fall in love with him all over again. He must have been thinking the same thing because he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek and muttered a soft ‘I love you’. He didn’t need to say the actual words for you to know though. You felt it in his touch. You saw it in his gaze and in his gentle smiles. Even so, you whispered back.

“I love you too.”