[solvyn]

"swollen up with envy.."

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ noa! she / her. adult. british. irl bambi. pouty girl.

"..he says i'm his favourite.."

[n]sfw - read at your own discretion. mdni. side blog.

requests: open - rules.

"..yeah, i fucking better be."

© solvyn, 2025. do not copy, translate, or claim my writing as your own.

[solvyn]

literally loved p2 of track seven

thank you so much!! i’m so glad so many enjoyed it!!!! sorry i haven’t been active much lately, work had been super busy - but i’m seeing all your requests and working through them slowly <3

[solvyn]

track seven, part two - l.ball

summary: part two of this. after releasing a breakup album about melo, you struggle with the lingering feelings between you both—until a viral moment forces you to confront them. word count: 1k warnings: angst, happy ending (a/n: thank you for all the love and support on part one - i hope you enjoy part two with their happy ending!!)

it’s been a month since that call.

since his voice curled through the receiver and wrapped around your heart like a vice, since you hung up with shaking hands and tears burning the edges of your vision. since you realized that even though the love is still there, the timing is still wrong.

but time moves forward whether you want it to or not. and so you do what you’ve always done: you throw yourself into your work.

interviews, late-night studio sessions, award show appearances—you keep yourself busy, too busy to think. but it doesn’t stop him from creeping into the quiet moments. from lingering in the spaces between lyrics, in the ache behind certain chords. from staring back at you in the reflection of a car window, like a ghost you can’t shake.

and then one night, after a long day of press, you see it.

a video. blurry, grainy. captured from the nosebleeds of an arena. but it’s unmistakable.

lamelo. sitting on the sideline, head down, hands clasped in front of him. your song playing through the speakers, echoing through the stadium.

your breath catches in your throat. the person filming zooms in, and you swear you see it—the way his jaw tightens, the way his fingers curl slightly, the way his eyes flicker with something you can’t name.

he’s listening. he’s still listening.

and maybe, just maybe, he’s missing you too.

the next few days are a blur of speculation. your social media is flooded—fans dissecting his reaction, debating what it means. articles pop up with headlines like 'lamelo ball’s emotional reaction to his ex’s song' and 'is there still hope? fans think so.'

but you don’t need the headlines to tell you what you already know.

he felt it. you saw it in the way he sat still while the rest of the arena moved around him, the way his hands clenched like he was holding something back. and for the first time in months, you don’t just wonder if he’s thinking about you—you know he is.

it’s enough to make you cave.

you shouldn’t. you should let it be. let the past stay the past. but your heart doesn’t listen to logic, and before you can stop yourself, your fingers are hovering over his name in your phone.

you don’t know what you expect when you finally hit call. maybe for it to go straight to voicemail, for him to ignore it the way you’ve both been ignoring the ache of missing each other.

but he picks up on the first ring.

“you saw it, didn’t you?”

his voice is rough, thick with something you can’t quite place. you swallow hard.

“yeah,” you admit. “i saw it.”

he doesn’t say anything for a moment. and then, quieter, “i didn’t think they’d play your song.”

“but you stayed.”

another beat of silence. then, “yeah. i stayed.”

those words sit between you like an unspoken truth, heavy and undeniable. you press your lips together, gathering the courage to say what you really called to say.

“melo…” your voice is softer now, more vulnerable. “why did you call me that night?”

he exhales sharply, like he’s been waiting for this question, dreading it. “because i heard the album, and it hit me all at once. i thought i was okay, but then i listened, and… i wasn’t.”

his confession cracks something open inside you. you close your eyes, gripping the phone tighter. “you weren’t the only one,” you whisper.

another pause. and then, barely audible, “do you miss me?”

your breath catches. because the truth is there, undeniable and raw. “every day.”

a shaky exhale. “me too.”

the silence stretches, but it’s different now. less painful. more like a question hanging in the air, waiting to be answered.

finally, he speaks again, voice cautious. “i don’t know if we can fix everything. i don’t know if we should. but… do you think we could try?”

your heart pounds in your chest. because this is it. the moment you’ve both been running from, circling around. and you don’t know what the future holds, but you do know one thing:

you’ve never stopped loving him.

“yeah,” you breathe. “i think we could try.”

and just like that, the distance between you doesn’t feel so impossible anymore.

it starts slow. tentative. texts at first—short, careful words, testing the waters. then late-night calls that stretch into the early hours, filled with quiet laughter and hesitant confessions.

it’s not easy. there’s still pain lingering between you, memories that sting when they surface. but there’s love too. so much love. and with every conversation, with every step forward, you start to believe that maybe this time, you’ll get it right.

then one night, after weeks of dancing around it, he asks.

“can i see you?”

your heart stutters in your chest. you hesitate for only a second before whispering, “yeah.”

the knock on your door comes hours later, and when you open it, he’s standing there, hands in his pockets, looking at you like he doesn’t know if he should pull you into his arms or drop to his knees.

you don’t give him a chance to decide. you close the distance first, wrapping your arms around his neck, holding him tight. he exhales sharply, arms coming around you in an instant, and suddenly, it’s like no time has passed at all.

“i missed you,” he murmurs into your hair.

“i missed you too.”

and maybe it won’t be perfect. maybe you’ll still have to fight for it. but as he tilts your chin up, as his lips brush against yours for the first time in what feels like forever, you know one thing for sure—

this time, you’re not letting go.

[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.

[solvyn]

literally begging for a part 2 for track seven 🧎‍♀️‍➡️

working on it now!! i’m so glad you enjoyed part one!

[solvyn]

noa i love u so much that lamelo ball angst got me in my feels so bad please make a part two with a happy ending i dont think my heart can take anymore angst😭❤️

oh my gosh this is so sweet!! thank you so, so much <33 i’m working on it now - with a happy ending! if you want to be tagged in part two let me know by commenting or in my ask box 🩷🩷🩷

[solvyn]

A new anon here! I was wondering if you could do a LaMelo Ball fic where reader is a singer and Melo and reader were in a long term relationship but recently broke up and reader releases a break up album about it

track seven - l.ball

summary: after releasing an album about your breakup with lamelo, you struggle with the weight of your emotions and the quiet aftermath, only to find that some things left unsaid might still find their way back word count: 1.1k warnings: angst (a/n: i left this as a cliffhanger because i wasn't sure whether to give them a happy ending or not. should i write a part two?)

you don’t check your phone when the album drops.

it’s not that you don’t care. god, you care too much. but you know if you pick up your phone, you’ll see his name. and right now, you can’t handle that.

instead, you sit in your apartment, curled up in the oversized hoodie you stole from him months ago—back when everything was good, when you thought forever meant forever. your hands are curled around a mug of tea that’s gone cold, your mind buzzing with anticipation and dread.

it’s out now. the world knows.

your pain, your heartbreak, your sleepless nights and empty mornings, they’re all out there, woven into melodies, laced between lyrics that tell the story of love and loss. of him. of you.

lamelo ball was your first love. your greatest love. and now he’s your greatest heartbreak.

it’s been four months since the breakup, but it still feels raw, like an open wound that won’t close. you’re doing what you do best—turning your emotions into music—but you know it’s going to hurt him. it’s going to hurt you, too. but this is how you heal. or at least, how you try to.

when your best friend calls, you hesitate before answering.

“girl, have you been online?” they ask, their voice buzzing with equal parts excitement and nerves.

you sigh, pressing your fingers to your temple. “nope. avoiding it.”

“well, you might wanna start preparing yourself because it’s trending. everywhere.”

of course it is.

you exhale slowly, forcing yourself to stay calm. you knew this was coming. you just didn’t expect it to happen this fast.

“what are they saying?” you ask, barely above a whisper.

“mostly good things,” your friend says. “they love it. they’re calling it one of the best breakup albums of the year. some are even comparing it to s.o.s. and red.”

that makes you smile, even if it’s small. you poured your heart into this album, and to see people resonate with it, to see them feel it, means everything. but you know that’s not all there is.

“and?”

your friend hesitates. “and… he posted.”

just like that, your stomach drops.

“what did he say?”

“it’s a story. just a black screen with a caption. ‘damn.’”

your heart clenches. that single word carries so much weight. you can picture him saying it, the way he does when something catches him off guard. you wonder what he’s thinking. if he’s angry. if he’s hurting as much as you are. if he regrets the way things ended.

but you can’t afford to think like that. you wrote this album for you. not for him. not for closure. not for revenge. for you.

so you don’t respond. you don’t reach out. instead, you let the music speak for itself.

three days later, he calls.

you shouldn’t answer. you know better. but your fingers betray you before your brain can catch up.

“hey.”

his voice is deeper than you remember, raspier. like he hasn’t been sleeping much either. there’s a beat of silence before he speaks again.

“so that’s how you really feel?”

your throat tightens. you close your eyes, trying to steady yourself. “melo…”

“nah, i just—” he exhales sharply. “i didn’t know it was like that.”

“what did you expect?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper. “we broke up. i wrote about it.”

“yeah, but—” he pauses. “some of those songs… you made me sound like the villain.”

your chest aches, because part of you knows he’s right. but the other part? the part that spent nights crying over him, over the way things ended, over the pieces of you he took with him when he left? that part doesn’t regret a damn thing.

“if that’s how you heard it, maybe you should ask yourself why.”

he’s quiet. too quiet. you can hear his breathing, uneven like he’s trying to hold something back.

“i never wanted to hurt you,” he says finally. “you know that, right?”

you swallow the lump in your throat. “i know.”

he sighs, a heavy, uneven breath that crackles through the phone. “then why does it feel like i lost you all over again?”

because maybe he has.

maybe you’ve lost him, too.

silence lingers between you, thick with words unsaid. you could tell him that you still think about him when certain songs play, that sometimes you reach for your phone only to stop yourself, that you still sleep in his hoodie because it’s the only thing that makes your bed feel less empty. but none of it changes the fact that you’re here, on opposite sides of something too broken to fix.

“melo…” your voice wavers. “i don’t—i don’t know what to say.”

“yeah.” his voice is barely above a whisper. “me neither.”

there’s a pause, a second where you think he might say something else, something that could undo the space between you. but then the line goes dead.

and just like that, he’s gone again.

time moves forward. the album continues to climb the charts. the songs that once felt too personal to share are now being sung by strangers, their voices carrying pieces of your story. of his. of yours, together.

you don’t know if he listens to it anymore. if he still thinks about you when certain lyrics play. if he regrets calling you that night. you don’t reach out. neither does he.

but sometimes, in the quiet moments, when the world is still and your heart aches just a little bit less, you wonder if he’s out there listening, remembering, missing you the way you miss him.

and maybe, just maybe, he is.

because one night, long after the world has quieted and your apartment is bathed in the soft glow of the city lights, your phone buzzes.

a text.

it’s him.

“i heard track seven.”

just five words, but they knock the breath out of you. because track seven is the one song you almost didn’t put on the album. the one where you weren’t angry, or bitter, or drowning in sadness. the one where you admitted, in soft harmonies and raw lyrics, that you still loved him, in some small, stubborn way. that a part of you always would.

your fingers hover over the keyboard. you could ignore it. you probably should. but instead, you type.

“yeah?”

his response comes quickly.

“yeah.”

[solvyn]

unspoken control - l.ball

summary: lamelo thrives on dominance and teasing you word count: 2.9k warnings: smut - unprotected p in v, slight dom/sub undertones, teasing

you barely notice the way people look at you when you walk into a room with him. it's not that you're oblivious; it's that you’ve learned not to care. because what does it matter, really? let them whisper. let them stare. let them try to dissect what’s going on between the two of you when even you don’t have a name for it.

he makes it easy not to overthink things. that’s just how lamelo is. there’s an ease to him, a looseness, like everything is just a game he’s already figured out how to win. sometimes it gets on your nerves—how little he seems to care about what other people think, how effortlessly he moves through the world, how he never questions himself the way you do. but other times, it’s the thing that makes you feel safest.

he’s always been good at reading you, at knowing when to push and when to let you come to him on your own. but there’s always been this unspoken thing between you—an understanding that no matter how much he lets you take the lead in public, behind closed doors, it’s different.

he’s different.

"come here," he says, and it's not a request. it never is with him, not when you're alone.

you hesitate—not because you don’t want to, but because you know what he’s doing. he likes to test you, to see if you’ll listen the first time or if you’ll make him ask again. there’s a flicker of amusement in his eyes as he watches you consider your options, like he already knows which one you’ll choose.

and you do. you always do.

his hand wraps around your wrist the moment you’re within reach, tugging you forward until you’re standing between his legs. he’s sprawled out on the couch like he owns the place (and technically, he does), one arm draped over the backrest, the other resting on your hip like it belongs there.

“took you long enough,” he murmurs, fingers tracing lazy circles against the fabric of your dress. you roll your eyes, but the effect is ruined by the way your breath catches when he presses his palm flat against you, just enough pressure to remind you who’s really in control here.

“you’re so impatient,” you say, but your voice comes out softer than you mean it to. he smirks, tilting his head up to look at you properly.

“nah,” he says, slow and easy, like he’s got all the time in the world. “just know what i want.”

and it’s you. it’s always you.

he lets you have your little defiance, lets you pretend you’re the one deciding how this is going to go. but his grip tightens just slightly, fingers pressing into your skin in a silent reminder. you can push all you want, test all you want, but at the end of the day, you’ll always end up right here—right where he wants you.

because the thing about lamelo is that he never has to raise his voice to get what he wants. never has to force anything. it’s in the way he looks at you, the way he carries himself, the way he makes you want to follow his lead without even realizing it.

“sit,” he says, and this time, you don’t hesitate.

his hands are on you the second you settle onto his lap, one resting against the small of your back, the other trailing up your spine in a slow, deliberate touch that makes you shiver. he chuckles, low and knowing, and leans in until his lips are just barely brushing against your ear.

“good girl,” he murmurs, and just like that, you’re gone.

because that’s the thing about him—he doesn’t need to be rough, doesn’t need to bark orders or demand obedience. he just knows you, knows how to get under your skin, how to make you fall apart with nothing more than a look, a touch, a few well-placed words.

and the worst part? he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“you like this, don’t you?” he asks, voice laced with amusement. “pretend like you don’t, but i see right through you.”

you hate how right he is. hate how easy it is for him to read you, to unravel you, to make you feel like you don’t have a single secret left. but you love it, too. love the way he makes you feel small without making you feel weak. love the way he takes care of you without making it obvious. love the way he never lets you forget exactly who you belong to, even if neither of you have ever said the words out loud.

“shut up,” you mumble, pushing at his chest, but he just grins, catching your wrist in his hand before you can pull away. he presses a kiss to your palm, soft and slow, before dragging his lips down to your wrist, your forearm, the sensitive spot inside your elbow that makes you squirm.

“make me,” he challenges, and you know you’ve already lost.

his fingers tighten around your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you. he leans back, studying you like he has all the time in the world, like he enjoys watching you squirm under his gaze. it’s a game to him, always has been, but it’s one you never win.

“you act like you don’t love this,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against the corner of your jaw. “but you always listen, don’t you?”

he tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes, and the look he gives you makes your breath hitch. smug. knowing. like he sees right through every little act you try to put up. because he does. he always does.

“go on,” he prompts, voice low and commanding. “tell me i’m wrong.”

but you can’t. and he knows it.

so you do the only thing you can—you give in.

and the worst part? he doesn’t even gloat. doesn’t rub it in your face or make some smartass remark. he just hums in approval, like he knew all along, like he was just waiting for you to admit what he already knew.

his hand slips under your chin, tilting your face just enough for his lips to brush against yours. not a kiss, not yet, just a tease, a reminder that you’re his. and when he finally does close the distance, it’s slow and deliberate, like he has all the time in the world to remind you exactly what you already know.

because the thing about lamelo is that he doesn’t just ask for control. he takes it. effortlessly. casually. like it’s his by default.

and the worst part? you don’t want him to stop.

his lips move against yours, slow and confident, like he's exploring a territory he already knows he owns. you melt into him, your body pressing against his as his hand slides up your back, fingers tangling in your hair. he grips gently, just enough to send a shiver down your spine and remind you who's in charge.

he pulls away, his breath hot on your lips as he murmurs, "you're so responsive. it's like you were made for me."

you can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, but you don't look away. you can't. his gaze holds you captive, and you're drawn into the depths of his eyes, drowning in the unspoken promises you find there.

his hand moves from your hair, trailing down your neck, your shoulder, until it reaches the zipper of your dress. he toys with it, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of your back, making you arch into him.

"melo," you whisper, half plea, half protest. you're not sure what you're asking for, but he knows. he always knows.

"shh," he soothes, his lips against your throat now, kissing and nipping gently. "i've got you. just let go."

you take a deep breath, forcing your body to relax, to submit to his touch. he smiles against your skin, and you can feel the curve of his lips as he murmurs, "good girl."

he slowly pulls the zipper down, his knuckles grazing your spine, making you shiver. the dress falls open, and he pushes it off your shoulders, letting it pool at your waist. you're exposed, vulnerable, but the way he looks at you makes you feel powerful. desired.

his hands are on you again, tracing the lace of your bra, teasing the swell of your breasts. you gasp as his thumb brushes over your nipple, the thin fabric doing little to dull the sensation. he does it again, and again, until you're squirming in his lap, your breath coming in short gasps.

"please," you manage to whisper, your voice barely audible. but he hears you. he always does.

he unclasps your bra with one hand, his other arm wrapped around your waist, holding you steady. you shrug out of the straps, and then you're bare, your breasts exposed to his hungry gaze.

he takes his time, his eyes roaming over you like he's committing every inch to memory. then he leans in, his lips wrapping around one taut peak, and you cry out, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

he sucks and licks, his tongue teasing you, his teeth grazing gently. you're a mess of sensations, your body on fire, your mind a blur. he switches to the other breast, giving it the same attention, until you're panting and writhing in his lap.

you can feel him hard beneath you, his arousal pressing against your thigh. you reach down, your hand brushing against him, and he growls, his mouth still on your breast.

"careful," he warns, his voice a low rumble. "don't start something you can't finish."

you look up at him, your eyes meeting his, and you see the challenge there. you smirk, your hand wrapping around him, feeling him throb in your grip.

"who says i can't finish it?" you ask, your voice steady despite the storm raging inside you.

he chuckles, low and throaty, and leans in, his lips brushing against yours. "prove it," he whispers, and then he captures your mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue claiming you, his body promising a night you won't forget.

and you know you're in trouble. the best kind of trouble.because with lamelo, it's always more than just a game. it's a dance, a battle, a surrender. and you wouldn't have it any other way.

your body responds to his challenge, a surge of heat rushing through you. you shift in his lap, straddling him, your dress riding up around your hips. his hands grip your thighs, fingers digging into your soft skin as you grind against him, feeling his hardness press against your core, separated only by the thin fabric of your underwear and his pants.

you break the kiss, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you look down at him, your eyes locked onto his. you can see the desire burning in his gaze, reflecting the fire that's consuming you. you reach down, your fingers working at his belt, then the button of his pants, your knuckles brushing against him, making him suck in a sharp breath.

he lifts his hips slightly, allowing you to tug his pants down, freeing him. you wrap your hand around his length, feeling him pulse against your palm. he's hot and hard, and you can't help but stroke him, your thumb brushing over his tip, spreading the bead of moisture you find there.

he groans, his head falling back against the couch, his eyes never leaving yours. "you're playing with fire," he warns, his voice a low growl.

you smile, a slow, sultry curve of your lips. "maybe i want to get burned," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

he chuckles as his hands tighten on your thighs, his fingers digging into your skin. "careful what you wish for," he says, and then he's moving, his hips bucking up into your touch, his hands sliding up to grip your waist.

you gasp as he lifts you, his strength surprising, and then you're hovering over him, the heat of him pressing against your core. you're wet, your body ready for him, and you can feel the thin fabric of your underwear clinging to you, the only barrier left between you.

"last chance," he murmurs, his eyes locked onto yours, giving you the choice even as his body trembles with restraint.

you reach down, pushing your underwear to the side, and then you lower yourself onto him, inch by agonising inch. you both groan as he fills you, your body stretching to accommodate him. you can feel every ridge, every vein, as you take him in completely.

his hands are on your hips, guiding you as you start to move, rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. you brace your hands on his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you ride him, your body chasing the pleasure only he can give you.

he meets your movements, his hips thrusting up to meet yours, his body driving into you with a force that leaves you gasping. you can feel the fire burning hotter, the pressure building inside you, threatening to consume you.

his hand slides up your body, his fingers wrapping around your throat, his thumb pressing gently against your pulse point. it's a possessive touch, a reminder of who's in control, even as you ride him. you can feel your heartbeat against his thumb, your body on the edge, ready to fall over into the abyss.

"come for me," he commands, his voice low and rough, his eyes locked onto yours. "let me see you fall apart."

and you do. you can't help it. your body convulses, your inner muscles clenching around him as the orgasm rips through you. you cry out, your head falling back, your eyes closed as the pleasure consumes you.

he follows you over the edge, his body tensing, his grip on your hips tightening as he thrusts up into you one last time. you can feel him pulsing inside you, filling you, marking you as his.

you collapse against him, your body limp, your breath coming in ragged gasps. his arms wrap around you, holding you close, his heart pounding against yours. you can feel the heat of his body, the sweat slicking your skin, the scent of him surrounding you.

and in that moment, you know. you belong to him. completely. irrevocably. and there's no turning back.

the room is quiet, save for the sound of your ragged breaths slowly returning to normal. your body is still pressed against his, your heartbeat syncing with his steady, strong pulse. his arms are wrapped around you, holding you close, his hands tracing lazy patterns on your back.

you can feel the intensity of the moment still lingering, like the remnants of a storm, the air charged with electricity. your body is sated, your muscles relaxed, but there's a hum just beneath your skin, a reminder of the fire that consumed you moments ago.

his lips press against your shoulder, a soft, gentle kiss that sends a shiver down your spine. you lift your head, your eyes meeting his, and you see the same intensity reflected in his gaze. it's softer now, tempered by satisfaction, but it's there—a smouldering ember ready to ignite again at the slightest provocation.

"you okay?" he asks, his voice a low rumble, his eyes searching yours.

you nod, a small smile playing on your lips. "more than okay," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

he smiles back, a slow, lazy curve of his lips that makes your heart flutter. his hand comes up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek. you lean into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed, a soft sigh escaping your lips.

when you open your eyes again, he's watching you, his expression serious. "you're mine," he says, his voice low, steady, leaving no room for argument. "you know that, right?"

you take a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. you do know it. you belong to him. body, heart, and soul.

you nod, your voice steady as you say, "i'm yours."

a look of satisfaction flashes across his face, and he leans in, his lips capturing yours in a slow, deep kiss. it's a claiming, a sealing of your words, a promise of more to come. you melt into him, your body responding to his touch, your heart swelling with emotions you can't put into words.

when he pulls away, his eyes are dark, the intensity back in full force. "say it again," he demands, his voice rough.

you look into his eyes, your voice clear and steady as you say, "i'm yours, melo."

he growls, a low, possessive sound that sends a shiver down your spine. his hands tighten on your hips, and you can feel him hardening against you, his body ready for you again.

"you drive me crazy," he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours. "i can't get enough of you. i don't think I ever will."

[solvyn]

just love the last booker fic 😭 love your work

thank you so much!!! i really appreciate all your feedback <3333

[solvyn]

Can u write a fic with Booker where he and Reader have a child together but are separated, one day they meet at their son's school for parent meetings and he gets jealous when he sees her talking to a guy he doesn't like. He offers her a ride, on the way they leave their son at his grandmother's house and end up having a disagreement, Booker takes her home and there they resolve things...

burning bridges - d.booker

summary: after a tense meeting at their son’s school, devin and his ex have a heated confrontation that leads to an unexpected and passionate reconciliation, igniting desires that had long been buried. word count: 2.7k warnings: jealous devin, smut - fingering, car sex, unprotected p in v

you hadn’t seen devin in weeks. the only time you two exchanged words lately was during the occasional parent swap for your son. the moments were always brief—awkward, sometimes civil, sometimes filled with the underlying tension of everything unsaid. but today, the parent meeting at your son’s school had forced you into the same space again, and the silence between you both was thicker than ever.

as you entered the classroom, you spotted devin sitting by the window, his sharp eyes scanning the room. even from a distance, the sight of him made your stomach flip, but you quickly pushed it down, focusing on your son’s artwork displayed on the walls instead. when devin noticed you, he gave a small nod, a hint of a smile on his lips, though his eyes remained guarded.

“hey,” you greeted him, walking to the empty chair beside him.

“hey,” devin responded, voice low but measured. "how's everything?"

you gave a half-hearted shrug, settling into the seat next to him. “good. you?”

“same,” he replied, his eyes flickering to the door as a few more parents walked in.

you both sat in silence as the meeting progressed, neither of you daring to say much beyond the usual pleasantries. but you couldn’t ignore the way devin kept stealing glances at you, like he was waiting for you to say something, to break the tension. every time you spoke to someone else or laughed lightly at a comment, you saw his jaw tighten ever so slightly. you couldn’t help but wonder if it was jealousy or just the usual discomfort you both felt in each other’s presence now.

and then, it happened.

a single dad, another parent at the meeting, approached you as soon as the teacher had finished speaking. you didn’t know him well, but he’d been a familiar face at the school, often chatting with you in passing. his name was matt, and though you’d only spoken a handful of times, he seemed friendly enough. today, though, his approach felt different. his eyes lingered on you a little longer than necessary, and as he asked about your son’s recent performance in class, he seemed to stand just a little too close.

you gave him a polite smile, trying to keep the conversation focused on your son. but you could feel the subtle shift in the air, the way matt’s hand brushed against your arm when he pointed out a note on a piece of paper in your hand, his fingers lingering a moment longer than was socially acceptable. you immediately pulled your arm back, surprised by the way his touch made you feel—a little uncomfortable, but also a little flattered, which was an unsettling combination. you could feel devin’s eyes on you now, burning into the side of your head, though you didn’t dare look over at him. you were acutely aware of his presence, the weight of his gaze making your skin prickle.

“oh, that’s sweet of you,” you said to matt, forcing a smile. “he’s doing well. thank you for checking in.”

matt grinned, his eyes flashing with a hint of something playful, something more than friendly. “anything for a fellow parent,” he said smoothly, leaning in just a little closer as he spoke. his voice dropped an octave, and you felt a flutter of something unfamiliar in your chest.

it was then that you dared a glance at devin.

he was staring at you, his jaw clenched so tight you could see the muscle twitching beneath his skin. his eyes were narrowed, intense, and locked onto you and matt in a way that made you feel like you were on display. you quickly shifted your gaze back to matt, trying to ignore the undercurrent of tension crackling in the air. but you could feel devin’s anger simmering just beneath the surface. his posture had stiffened, and even though he hadn’t moved, you could practically feel the storm brewing within him.

“it was nice talking to you, but i should get going,” you said, trying to wrap things up, eager to escape the uncomfortable situation. but matt didn’t seem to get the hint.

“you sure? i’m just getting started here,” he replied with a charming smile, not even pretending to hide the flirtation in his tone.

you opened your mouth to respond, but before you could say anything, devin stood up, his chair scraping against the floor as he made his way over to you both. you could feel the shift in energy instantly, like a sudden change in the atmosphere, as devin approached with a look on his face that was impossible to misinterpret.

“hey, man, i think that’s enough,” devin’s voice was calm, but the warning beneath it was clear. he stepped in close to matt, his broad frame towering over him. “i’m sure y/n has things to do.”

matt raised an eyebrow, looking between you and devin, sensing the tension. “yeah, sure. no harm done, man,” he muttered, taking a step back.

you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding as matt retreated, but devin didn’t look at you. instead, his eyes were locked on the other man, his jaw still tight. you knew you had to intervene, but before you could say anything, devin was already turning to you.

"you need a ride?" he asked, his tone unusually curt, though there was something underneath it—a hint of something that you couldn’t quite place.

you glanced up at him, surprised at the offer but too tired of the games to care much. "sure," you said, not bothering to argue.

as you all walked out to the parking lot, devin’s gaze never left you, and you noticed him scowling when your son pointed out something in the parking lot, laughing with a guy you had just spoken to during the meeting.

he clenched his jaw, his voice tight. “i don’t like him.”

you raised an eyebrow. "he's just a parent. we were talking about school stuff."

"doesn't matter," he muttered, staring at the guy for a beat longer than necessary before glancing at you again, his expression hardening. "we'll drop him off, then we need to talk."

you didn’t have time to argue, so you simply nodded as the drive to your mother's house was quiet, save for the occasional glances between you two. when you reached her house, you dropped off your son and told him you'd be back soon before getting back in the car.

the drive was tense, the car filled with an energy that neither of you wanted to acknowledge but both felt. devin’s grip on the steering wheel was tight, and every now and then, he would glance at you from the corner of his eye, his jaw clenching.

you were trying to hold your ground, keep the walls up, but the way he looked at you—like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words—made your heart race. you hated how it made you feel. you hated that you still cared.

as the car neared your house, devin glanced at you again, his voice gruff. “you know, you make this so much harder than it needs to be.”

you swallowed hard, frustration bubbling up in your chest. “i’m not the one complicating this, devin,” you retorted, your voice quieter but full of tension. “you are.”

"yeah?” his tone was laced with sarcasm, and there was a bitter edge to it that made you clench your fists in your lap. “i’m sorry for caring too much.”

before you could respond, he abruptly turned the car into your driveway, the tires skidding slightly as he parked. you didn’t say anything at first. the silence between you was almost unbearable, thick with everything that hadn’t been said and everything that didn’t need to be.

devin killed the engine but didn’t move, his hand resting on the gearshift as he turned to look at you, his gaze dark, almost challenging. “you still want to act like there’s nothing between us?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

you felt the question hit you like a ton of bricks, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. but something inside you snapped. you weren’t going to play this game anymore. not with him.

you leaned forward, your hand brushing over his, and before he could say another word, you kissed him. hard. the urgency of it was electric, your lips crashing against his, as if you were both trying to pour everything you’d been holding back into that one moment. his hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours as his breath became more ragged.

devin’s free hand found the side of your thigh, slipping underneath your dress, fingers grazing the soft skin of your inner thigh. you shivered, the heat between you both intensifying, your body responding instinctively. It wasn’t just a kiss anymore. it was everything—raw, needy, and impossible to ignore.

when you broke the kiss for air, both of you were panting, breathless. you could see the raw desire in his eyes, the hunger. and you couldn’t fight it anymore. he wanted you. and you wanted him.

“how's this for complicated?” devin’s voice was thick, gravelly, as he spoke, his hand now sliding up your body, pushing your dress higher as his thumb traced the curve of your breast. "you want me to stop?"

you shook your head, your chest rising and falling rapidly. “no,” you whispered, barely able to breathe. “i don’t.”

with a frustrated growl, Devin grabbed the hem of your dress and pulled it over your head, throwing it to the side before his lips found your neck again. his hands were everywhere now—on your waist, your hips, your skin burning where he touched you.

you kissed him again, more urgently this time, your hands fumbling to unbutton his shirt. you could feel him hardening against your thigh, the tension between you both almost unbearable. every touch, every movement was desperate, as if you both needed this to feel real again, to feel something that had been lost in the space between you for far too long.

“get in the back,” he muttered against your lips, his voice rough with need.

you didn't need to be told twice. you quickly moved to the back seat, devin following close behind. the space was cramped, but the closeness only intensified the heat between you. he knelt over you, his shirt now discarded, revealing the muscular physique you have missed.

his mouth found yours again, hungry and demanding. you could feel his hand trailing up your side, unhooking your bra with a swift flick of his fingers. he cupped your breast, his thumb circling your nipple, drawing out a gasp from deep within you. you arched into his touch, your body begging for more.

devin's mouth left yours, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, your collarbone, before finally capturing your nipple. you moaned, your hands gripping his hair, holding him in place as waves of pleasure coursed through you. he lavished attention on your breasts, his hands and mouth working in tandem, driving you wild.

your hands fumbled with his belt, finally managing to unbuckle it. you could feel him, hard and ready, straining against his jeans. he groaned as you slipped your hand inside, your fingers wrapping around him. he was hot and smooth, pulsing in your hand.

devin's breath hitched, his forehead resting against yours. "i've missed you," he growled, his hand slipping between your legs, rubbing you through your soaked panties. you gasped, your hips bucking against his hand. he smirked, his fingers slipping inside your panties, stroking your slick folds. "you're mine."

you cried out as his fingers found your clit, circling it with the perfect amount of pressure. you were so close, your body tensing, ready to explode. but devin had other plans. he slowed his movements, bringing you back from the edge.

"not yet," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. he removed his hand, leaving you panting and desperate. he quickly shed his jeans and boxers, then hooked his fingers in your panties, pulling them off in one swift motion.

he settled between your legs, his eyes locked onto yours. you could feel him, poised at your entrance, ready. "tell me you want this," he demanded, his voice barely controlled.

"i want this," you breathed, your hips lifting to meet his. "i want you, devin."

with a groan, he thrust into you, filling you completely. you both stilled for a moment, the sensation overwhelming. then he started to move, his hips setting a punishing rhythm. you met him thrust for thrust, your bodies moving in sync, the heat between you building to an inferno.

his mouth found yours again, his kiss swallowing your moans. you could feel your orgasm building, your body tensing around him. devin slipped a hand between you, his fingers finding your clit once more. the combined sensation was too much. you exploded, your body convulsing around him, waves of pleasure crashing over you.

devin followed soon after, his body tensing as he found his release. He collapsed on top of you, both of your chests heaving, your bodies slick with sweat. you could feel his heart pounding against yours, the intimacy of the moment overwhelming.

as you both came down from your high, devin propped himself up on his elbows, looking down at you. his gaze was soft now, the challenge replaced with something more tender. "there's no going back from this," he whispered, his thumb brushing against your cheek.

his face was buried in the crook of your neck, his breath tickling your skin. you ran your fingers through his hair, the gesture intimate and soothing. he hummed in contentment, pressing a soft kiss against your neck before lifting his head to look at you. his eyes were soft, the usual intensity replaced with a gentle warmth that made your heart flutter.

he carefully shifted his weight off you, but he didn't go far. one arm propping his head up, his other hand rested on your stomach, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin. you shivered, your body still sensitive from his touch.

your eyes met his, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. there was no need to. the silence was comfortable, the connection between you palpable. you could see the questions in his eyes, the same ones that were running through your own mind. what now? where do we go from here? but there was no rush to answer them. for now, it was enough to just be together.

devin's hand moved from your stomach, his fingers brushing a strand of hair away from your face. his touch was tender, almost reverent. he leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against your lips. it was a stark contrast to the hungry, desperate kisses you'd shared earlier, but no less intense.

as he pulled away, you caught a glimpse of the setting sun outside the car window. the sky was painted in hues of orange and pink, casting a warm glow over everything. it was a beautiful sight, but it paled in comparison to the man in front of you.

you reached for your discarded dress, pulling it over your head. Devin did the same, putting his clothes back on. there was a sense of familiarity in the domesticity of the moment, a hint of what could be. you smiled at the thought, a warmth spreading through you that had nothing to do with the physical intimacy you'd just shared.

devin reached for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. he looked down at your intertwined hands, his thumb tracing circles on your skin. "we should talk," he said, his voice soft. "about us. about what happens next."

you nodded, squeezing his hand. "we will," you promised. "but for now, let's just enjoy this moment. just you and me."

he looked up at you, a small smile playing on his lips. "just you and me," he agreed.

[solvyn]

so i was the one who suggested the book smut fanfic and GIRLY 🤭🤭🤭 you ate so badd babe!! you’re like the second person on tumblr to make a dbook smut fanfic and you ate it DOWN. thanks so much for making it!!!

oh my gosh thank you so much!!! i'm so glad you enjoyed it! <3333 my smut writing is a bit rusty and i was very insecure about posting it lol!

[solvyn]

AAAAAAAAAAA I LOVED YOUR LAMELO FIC!!! please keep writing for him we need more melo works on this app<3

ahhh!! thank yooou! you’re so right - we need more melo!!

i’ve got some in the works ;) remember! requests are always open too!

[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.

[solvyn]

THAT BOOK FIC WAS EVERYTHING OH MY GOD GIRL YOU ATE

omg thank you so much!!! i haven’t written smut in a while so i was worried what people would think. glad you enjoyed it!!

[solvyn]

could we get devin booker angst + smut? devin + yn gets into a heated argument before they go to a party. yn decides its a good idea to make devin jealous, she starts speaking to other guys (gets a lil handsy) he sees that and starts to become angry. he decides once they get home hes going to teach her a lesson 🫠

burning for you - d.booker

summary: a heated argument fueled by jealousy ignites a night of passion, forcing devin and y/n to confront their feelings word count: 3.8k warnings: angst, arguments, smut - oral (fem! receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, fluffy ending an: thank you so much for requesting!! i hope you enjoy!! <3

the apartment felt smaller by the second, the air thick with unspoken words. you and devin had been circling around the issue for days now, and tonight, it had all come to a head.

"you’ve been avoiding me all week," devin’s voice cut through the silence, low and tight, frustration evident in every word. "i don’t even know what’s going on with you anymore, and i can’t keep guessing."

you flinched at the accusation, but your anger flared up immediately. “avoiding you? you’re one to talk,” you shot back, your tone biting. “you’ve been so wrapped up in your schedule, your games, your friends—do you even remember the last time we spent a real evening together?”

his jaw tightened. “i’m not asking for much, y/n. i've been trying to balance everything, but i don’t even get a damn minute of your time. and when i do try to talk to you, it’s like i’m talking to a brick wall.”

you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “and when was the last time you actually listened to me? you’re always too busy with your basketball career, your endorsements, or whatever else you’ve got going on. you don’t even notice when i’m upset, or when i’m telling you that i need more from you. you just expect everything to be fine, like i’m supposed to drop everything for you every time you need me.”

he stepped closer, his voice low but simmering with anger. “i’m not saying you should drop everything for me. but you’ve been shutting me out for weeks. i know something’s wrong, and every time i try to ask, you either ignore me or change the subject. what do you want from me, y/n? i’m here, but you’re so distant. you don’t even seem to care.”

your heart was racing now, a rush of emotions flooding your chest. “what do i want from you?” you shook your head in disbelief. “i want you to actually see me, devin. i want you to stop treating me like i’m some afterthought. you think i don’t see how you prioritise everything else before me? you think i can’t tell when you’re too busy to even give me five minutes of your time?”

devin’s frustration was palpable as he ran a hand through his hair. “i’ve been trying, y/n. i’ve been trying to balance everything, to make time for you. but it feels like no matter what i do, it’s never enough for you.”

your chest tightened at his words, and a rush of hurt and anger surged through you. “it’s not enough because it’s always on your terms, devin. you get to decide when you have time for me, and i just have to be okay with it. but i’m not okay with it.”

“then what do you want me to do?” his voice cracked, frustration leaking through. “i’m doing everything i can. what more do you want?”

“i want to feel like i’m a priority,” you snapped, your voice shaking. “i want to feel like i’m not just here when you need something. i want you to care about me, not just the idea of me when it’s convenient for you.”

his expression hardened, a mixture of confusion and defensiveness crossing his face. “you think i don’t care about you? that’s what this is about? you think i don’t care about us?”

the words hit harder than you expected, and suddenly, your voice grew smaller despite the anger bubbling inside you. “that’s exactly it. i don’t know if you care anymore. you’re always too busy for me, and when you’re not, you’re distracted by everything else. it’s like i don’t even matter.”

the hurt in your voice caught devin off guard, and he took a step back, clearly not knowing how to respond. “i didn’t mean to make you feel like that. i didn’t realise—”

“i’m tired of being ignored,” you interrupted him, your voice breaking, the weight of the argument sinking in. “i’m tired of not feeling important. i need more from you than just your presence when it’s easy for you. i need someone who actually listens, who’s there when i need them. and right now, i don’t feel like you’re that person.”

the words hung in the air, heavy and charged. devin's eyes were wide with frustration, and you could see the anger boiling beneath the surface.

“you think i don’t care about you?” he spat, his voice rising. “are you really going to stand there and say that to me? after everything i’ve done for us?”

“i don’t know what you’ve done for us, devin!” you fired back, stepping forward, your chest heaving with anger. “you’ve been so fucking caught up in your own world that you haven’t even noticed me slipping away. i don’t even recognise this version of you anymore, and frankly, i’m tired of pretending everything’s fine when it’s not!”

he stepped closer, towering over you, his voice low but laced with fury. “you don’t get to throw that shit in my face, y/n. you don’t get to act like i haven’t tried. i’ve been trying to balance everything, but you keep pushing me away. what the hell do you want from me?”

“what do I want?” you laughed bitterly, shaking your head. “i want you to stop acting like i’m supposed to be your second priority! i want you to actually see me for once and not just treat me like some backup plan. i’m done playing second choice, devin!”

the anger surged through him, his hands balling into fists as he took another step forward. “maybe you should just stop being so damn selfish, y/n. maybe you need to understand that i have responsibilities too. it’s not all about you, all the time!”

your voice grew louder, sharper. “i never said it was all about me! but damn, you act like i don’t matter. you act like i’m just here when it’s convenient for you!”

the silence that followed was thick, both of you standing there, seething, eyes burning with frustration. neither of you were willing to back down now.

devin's face contorted in rage as he snarled, “you want to see how i really feel? fine. but don’t you dare come crying to me when you push me too far.”

without waiting for a response, he turned and stormed toward the door. the slam of it as he left made the tension in the room feel suffocating.

-

the car ride to the party was suffocating. the air between you and devin was thick with anger, your argument still fresh in your mind. the silence was heavy, both of you too stubborn to break it.

devin’s hands were gripping the steering wheel, knuckles white, jaw clenched so tight you could see the muscle twitch. he was furious. so were you. but neither of you wanted to be the first to back down.

when he pulled up to the party, he didn’t even glance at you before stepping out and slamming the car door shut. you rolled your eyes, inhaling sharply before following him inside.

the house was packed, the music loud, the air buzzing with energy. people were already deep into their drinks, laughing and moving through the space in a way that made it clear the night was just getting started.

devin barely acknowledged you as he walked in, already getting pulled into conversation by some of his teammates. you stood there for a moment, watching him, the way he seemed so effortlessly comfortable, acting as if nothing had happened.

as if you hadn’t just fought.

as if he wasn’t still seething.

your blood boiled as you watched him interact with his friends, laughing at their jokes, nodding along to whatever conversation they were having, while you were left standing alone, gripping the drink someone had handed you.

fine.

if he wanted to act like everything was fine, like you didn’t exist, then two could play that game.

you wandered through the party, smiling at people you barely knew, sipping at your drink a little too fast, letting the warmth of the alcohol settle in your veins. you talked to a few acquaintances, laughing at their stories, forcing yourself to focus on anything but devin. but it wasn’t working.

every time you glanced in his direction, he was still completely unbothered, still talking, still laughing, as if you weren’t even in the same room.

that was when the idea hit you.

you weren’t just going to ignore him. you were going to make him feel ignored.

you spotted a group of guys by the bar, one of them—lucas—standing out immediately. he was attractive, charming in that easygoing way, the kind of guy who knew exactly how to work a conversation. you had met him a couple of times before through mutual friends, and he had always been friendly, maybe a little flirty.

perfect.

you sauntered over, your hips swaying just a little more than usual, your lips curving into a smirk as you slid into the group effortlessly.

“y/n,” lucas greeted you, flashing you a grin. “didn’t think i’d see you here tonight.”

you shrugged, swirling the drink in your hand. “last-minute decision.”

“well, i’m glad you came,” he said smoothly, his eyes flicking over you appreciatively. “you look—” he let his gaze linger for a second before meeting your eyes again. “stunning.”

you let out a soft laugh, tilting your head slightly. “that so?”

you could feel devin’s gaze before you even turned to confirm it.

he was still across the room, standing with his teammates, but his focus was entirely on you now.

good.

you leaned into the conversation more, laughing at lucas’ jokes, letting your hand brush against his arm here and there. every now and then, you’d flick your gaze toward devin just to see if he was still watching.

he was.

and he did not look happy.

his jaw was clenched, his eyes dark, his entire posture stiff as he watched you with barely contained fury. he wasn’t even pretending to be engaged in the conversation with his friends anymore. he was locked in on you.

you smirked to yourself before turning your full attention back to lucas.

“what are you doing after this?” lucas asked, leaning in slightly, his hand resting lightly on your waist now.

you opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, a firm hand wrapped around your wrist, yanking you away with enough force that you barely had time to react.

“we’re leaving.”

devin’s voice was low, dangerous, filled with something that sent a shiver down your spine.

lucas frowned, stepping forward slightly. “hey, man—”

devin turned his head, shooting him a glare so sharp that lucas immediately took a step back, raising his hands in surrender.

you didn’t protest as devin dragged you through the party, his grip unrelenting. you barely had time to register the heat rolling off of him before you were out the door, stepping into the cool night air.

the second you were outside, he spun you around, pressing you against the side of his car, his body caging you in.

his eyes burned into you, filled with something dark and possessive.

“making me jealous?” he asked, his voice low, dangerously calm. “is that what you think is a good idea?”

you swallowed hard, refusing to back down. “seems like it worked.”

his hand came up to grip your jaw, tilting your head so you had no choice but to meet his gaze.

“you don’t get to play games with me, y/n,” he murmured, his voice dripping with warning. “you want my attention? congratulations. you have all of it.”

you smirked, your pulse racing. “what are you going to do about it?”

the corner of his mouth twitched, something dark and amused flickering in his eyes.

“oh, you’ll see.”

-

the car ride home was thick with silence, but it wasn’t the same as before.

this wasn’t the heavy, suffocating quiet of your earlier argument. this was something else. charged. dangerous.

devin’s grip on the steering wheel was tight, his knuckles white as he drove through the empty streets, his jaw set in a hard line. he hadn’t said a word since he dragged you out of the party, but he didn’t have to. his entire body radiated anger.

you sat beside him, arms crossed, your heart still hammering from the way he had looked at you outside the party—like he was two seconds away from losing control.

you bit your lip, suppressing the smirk threatening to form.

this was exactly what you had wanted.

he pulled into the driveway, cutting the engine abruptly before stepping out of the car without so much as a glance in your direction. you followed, the tension between you crackling like static.

the second the front door shut behind you, he turned.

"you think you're funny, huh?" his voice was sharp, but there was something else there too—something rougher, something possessive.

you lifted a brow, feigning innocence. "i don't know what you're talking about."

devin scoffed, running a hand down his face as he let out a bitter laugh. "don't play dumb, y/n. flirting with other guys? letting that idiot put his hands on you? did you really think i was just going to stand there and let that slide?"

you met his glare head-on, refusing to back down. "oh, now you care? now you suddenly have something to say? you ignored me all night until i gave you a reason not to."

his eyes darkened. he took a step closer. "you think i didn't care? you think i didn't notice? i've been pissed off since the second we walked into that party, but i was trying—really fucking trying—not to let this get out of hand."

your heart pounded as you stared up at him, your breath shallow. "so what, devin? you were just going to let me sit there and wonder if you even gave a damn? was i supposed to just shut up and wait for you to remember i exist?"

his nostrils flared, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "that's not what this is about, and you know it."

"then what is it about?" you pushed him, both hands against his chest, shoving him back a step. "because from where i’m standing, it sure as hell looks like you only care when someone else wants me!"

that was the breaking point.

devin moved fast—so fast that you barely had time to react before your back hit the wall, his hands slamming against the surface on either side of you, trapping you in.

his face was inches from yours, his breathing ragged, his eyes burning with something dark and untamed.

"you want my attention?" his voice was low, rough, sending a shiver down your spine.

you opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, his lips crashed onto yours.

the kiss was angry, desperate, all the frustration from the night pouring into the way he claimed your mouth. his hands gripped your waist, pulling you against him as if he couldn’t stand even a sliver of space between you.

you gasped into the kiss, and he took advantage of it, deepening it, his tongue sweeping against yours in a way that made your knees weak.

your fingers found his shirt, fisting the fabric as you pulled him closer, matching his intensity, pouring your own frustration into the way you kissed him back.

his hands roamed, sliding down to your thighs before he lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist on instinct. he didn’t hesitate, carrying you through the house with purpose, never breaking the kiss as he manoeuvred into the bedroom.

the second your back hit the mattress, he was on you, his body pressing you down, his hands exploring, his lips never straying too far from yours.

the tension, the anger, the jealousy—it all burned away, leaving nothing but pure, unfiltered need in its wake.

and neither of you had any intention of stopping.

devin’s lips were relentless, his hands everywhere at once—gripping your waist, sliding up your sides, threading into your hair as he kissed you like he was trying to erase every trace of anyone else’s touch.

you matched his energy, tugging at his shirt, your fingers desperate against his skin. he let out a low groan against your lips as you traced your nails down his back, his grip tightening around you in response.

"you drive me fucking crazy," he muttered, his breath hot against your jaw as he kissed down the column of your neck, his teeth grazing sensitive skin. you gasped, arching into him, your hands tangling in his hair.

"good," you shot back, your voice breathless, teasing. "now you know how it feels."

devin growled, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. his pupils were blown, his jaw tight, his chest rising and falling heavily. "you really think i don't notice you? that i don’t care?" his voice was rough, the weight of his words thick with emotion.

your breath hitched, but before you could answer, he was kissing you again—deeper this time, slower, like he was trying to prove something.

the air between you was scorching, his hands sliding under your dress, fingertips pressing into your thighs as he settled between them. you gasped as he shifted, his lips trailing down, his hands making quick work of the fabric between you.

"you're mine, y/n" he murmured against your skin, his voice dark, possessive. "and i’m about to remind you exactly why."

his lips trailed down to your collarbone, and you let out a shuddering breath as his fingers traced the line of your panties. you could feel the dampness between your legs, and you knew you were ready for him.

he hooked his fingers under the fabric, pulling it aside as his lips found your most sensitive spot. you cried out, arching your back as he began to work you over with his tongue. it was almost too much, and you had to grip the sheets to keep from writhing beneath him.

"devin," you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper. "please."

he chuckled darkly against your skin, his fingers teasing your entrance as he continued to torture you with his tongue. you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer.

finally, he slid a finger inside you, and you cried out, your body shaking as you came apart beneath him. he continued to work you over, prolonging your orgasm as you rode out wave after wave of pleasure.

when you finally came down, you found yourself panting and sweaty, your body still trembling with aftershocks. devin pulled away, his eyes dark with desire as he looked down at you.

"you're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice low and rough. "i could watch you cum all day."

you smiled, reaching up to cup his face in your hands. "i think it's your turn," you said softly.

he grinned, leaning down to kiss you deeply before pulling away and stripping off his clothes. you watched as he revealed his toned body, your eyes brightening as you looked at his cock.

he climbed onto the bed, settling between your legs as he positioned himself at your entrance. you could feel your heart racing, your body already eager for more.

he slid inside you slowly, his eyes locked on yours as he filled you completely. you let out a low moan, your body stretching to accommodate him. it was almost too much, but it felt so good that you couldn’t help but beg for more.

he began to move, his hips rocking against yours as he set a steady rhythm. you matched his movements, your body moving in sync with his as you lost yourself in the sensation of him inside you.

it wasn’t long before you felt yourself building up again, your body responding to his touch as if it had been waiting for this all night. you gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you urged him on.

he groaned, his movements becoming more desperate as he felt you tightening around him. you could see the pleasure written all over his face, and it only made you want him more.

finally, with one last thrust, you both came apart, your bodies shaking as you rode out the wave of pleasure together. you clung to him, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

devin collapsed against you, his weight grounding you as you both fought to catch your breath. his forehead rested against yours, his skin damp with sweat, his chest rising and falling in sync with yours. neither of you spoke for a long moment, the only sound in the room being the lingering echoes of your shared pleasure.

his hands, once gripping you with unrelenting force, now moved softly, tracing idle patterns along your bare skin, his touch slow, almost reverent. you felt his lips press against your temple—gentle, lingering. a stark contrast to the desperation that had consumed you both just moments before.

you exhaled shakily, your fingers ghosting up his back, feeling the tension still coiled in his muscles. even after everything, his body remained taut, his jaw still clenched. the weight of the night, of the argument, of the jealousy, hadn’t entirely faded.

devin pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his brow furrowed slightly, his fingers brushing over your cheek. "you really think i don't care?" his voice was rough, quieter now, but still edged with something raw.

your throat tightened at the question, at the vulnerability behind it.

"you ignored me all night," you admitted, your voice softer than before, but still holding its own weight. "i felt like i didn’t even exist to you."

his jaw tensed, and for a second, you thought he might get defensive again. but instead, he sighed, his head dropping slightly before he looked at you again, his gaze intense. "i was mad," he admitted, his thumb tracing the curve of your lip. "but not at you. at myself."

you frowned slightly, confused. "devin—"

"i don’t always know how to handle shit when it comes to you," he cut in, his voice low but firm. "you mean too much to me. and sometimes, that scares the hell out of me."

your breath caught at the admission, at the way his eyes searched yours, like he was afraid of what he’d find.

"you don’t have to be scared," you murmured, your fingers running through his hair, pushing the damp curls from his forehead. "i just need to know you’re here. that you see me."

his lips parted slightly, his expression softening.

"i do," he whispered. "i always do."

he kissed you again, slower this time, his lips moving against yours in a way that felt like a silent apology, a promise.

you melted into him, allowing yourself to believe him, to let go of the frustration, the jealousy, the need to push and pull. because, in the end, you both wanted the same thing—each other.

and tonight, that was enough.

[solvyn]

covered in me - j.hughes

summary: jack insists you stay wrapped in his arms, and exactly where you belong word count: 290 warnings: suggestive but no smut

the soft glow of the bedside lamp cast warm shadows across the room, the air thick with the remnants of your lovemaking. you stirred beneath the sheets, limbs tangled with jack’s, your body still humming with the aftermath. you exhaled a deep, contented sigh, pressing a lazy kiss to his chest before shifting to sit up.

jack’s arm tightened around your waist immediately, his grip firm as he pulled you flush against him. “where do you think you’re going?” his voice was thick with sleep and satisfaction, a smirk curling at his lips as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck.

you laughed softly, your fingers threading through his messy hair. “i need to shower,” you murmured, though you made no real attempt to move. “i’m all sticky.”

jack hummed against your skin, his lips pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to your shoulder. “that’s the point,” he murmured, voice rough with possessiveness. “you’re covered in me.”

you rolled your eyes, but your stomach fluttered at his words. “jack—”

“stay,” he interrupted, his hands sliding down to your hips, his thumb tracing idle circles against your skin. “i like you like this.”

you shivered beneath his touch, a delicious warmth spreading through you. “you’re impossible.”

jack grinned, shifting so he was hovering over you, his weight pinning you down. “and you love it.”

you sighed dramatically, but the way your fingers curled into his back betrayed you. jack chuckled, pressing a teasing kiss to your lips before settling against you once more, his arms locking you in place.

“the shower can wait,” he murmured sleepily. “just stay here, just like this.”

you smiled, surrendering to the warmth of his embrace. “fine,” you whispered.

jack smirked against your skin. “good girl.”

[solvyn]

home is you - q.hughes

summary: after a long, exhausting day, quinn comes home to you—his safe place, his comfort, his always. word count: 728 warnigs: fluff

it's late when you finally hear the front door open, the soft creak of the hinges making your heart skip. you'd been curled up on the couch for the better part of an hour, the tv playing some random show you weren’t really watching, your attention fixed on the quiet hum of the city outside. but now, with the sound of keys clinking against the wood bowl by the door, your whole body relaxes.

quinn’s home.

he looks exhausted, dark circles smudged beneath his eyes, his hair a little messy from running his hands through it all day. his suit jacket is draped over one arm, the first few buttons of his dress shirt undone. when his eyes find yours, he smiles—small and a little tired, but warm enough to melt you instantly.

"hey," he says, voice soft as he toes off his shoes and makes his way over to you.

"hey, you," you whisper back, shifting to make room for him as he drops onto the couch beside you. he sighs the moment his head hits your shoulder, his whole body sinking into yours like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

"long day?" you ask, pressing your lips to the crown of his head, breathing in the faint mix of cologne and the chill of the night air clinging to him.

"the longest," he groans, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. "missed you."

"missed you more."

he hums, content, nuzzling further into you. your fingers find their way into his hair, combing through the strands, and he practically melts under your touch. he’s always like this after a rough day—quiet, clingy, needing to be close, needing the kind of comfort only you can give.

"did you eat?" you ask after a moment, your fingers trailing down to rub slow circles against his back.

he shakes his head, eyes still closed. "was gonna just sleep."

"quinn," you sigh, pulling back just enough to look at him. "you can’t go to bed without eating."

he pouts—actually pouts—and it’s so unfair how cute he looks, all sleepy and soft like this. "m’too tired to cook."

"good thing i made something for you then, huh?"

his eyes flutter open, the hint of a smile playing at his lips. "you did?"

"of course i did." you press a quick kiss to his cheek before slipping off the couch, tugging him up with you. "come on, baby. let’s get you fed."

he grumbles a little but follows, trailing behind you into the kitchen. you plate up the meal you made earlier, reheating it quickly before setting it down in front of him. he watches you the whole time, something soft and sleepy in his gaze, like he’s still processing the fact that you’re here, taking care of him.

"you're the best, you know that?" he mumbles around a bite of food, eyes flickering up to meet yours.

"i try," you tease, nudging his foot beneath the table. "eat up, huggy."

he rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue, finishing his food quickly before standing to rinse off his plate. you move to help, but he stops you with a firm shake of his head, hands settling on your waist instead.

"i got it," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. "you already did enough."

"you sure?"

"positive."

so you let him, leaning against the counter as he moves around the kitchen, the exhaustion in his body a little less obvious now that he’s eaten, now that he’s home with you. when he finishes, he reaches for your hand, tugging you gently toward the bedroom.

"come to bed with me?"

"always."

you barely make it under the covers before he’s pulling you in, tucking you against his chest, his arms looping around your waist like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go. you settle easily into the warmth of him, tracing lazy patterns along his back.

"thank you," he murmurs into your hair, voice thick with sleep.

"for what?"

"for being here. for taking care of me."

you tilt your head up, brushing a kiss against his jaw. "always, quinn."

his arms tighten around you, a content sigh leaving his lips, and within moments, he’s out, his breathing slow and steady against your skin. you smile to yourself, nuzzling into his chest, and let sleep take you too.