LaMelo Ball One Shots/Imagines

Ya lil' Glasses | LaMelo Ball One Shot

Pairing: LaMelo Ball x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,588

Summary: You and LaMelo Ball both attend UCLA for undergrad. Of course he happens to be that hype kid the class that's loud with his friends. You both get paired up to do a project together for the class. He's kind of mean and pokes fun and although he gets on your last nerve, you may or may not find him just a little tiny bit cute. Maybe.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, smut, mentions of sex, female and male anatomy, orgasm control, possibly cliche, M/F.

A/N: damn forgive me it's been a while since I've written smut, butttt I'm on a roll with writing lately soo that's not stopping me. Let me know what y'all think ;) enjoyyyyy and happy reading :)))

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You cannot believe you were paired up with Melo Ball for the most important assignment of this course for the semester. Yeah, it's UCLA but they really just let any good sports player in and you cared about your education. He did not. All he did was mess around and crack jokes
with his friends in the class. Imagine acting like that in college, couldn't be you.

When it came down to finally finding a time to work on it together, you could not wait to get it over with.

The first time you met with him for the project was in the common hall. You both settle down in your chairs and you pull out your laptops. As soon as Melo pulled his stuff out, he hopped on his phone.

"Can we just come up with an idea and be done today?" You ask, not really in the mood to ask for his full attention.

He looked at you before clicking his phone off and licking his lips.
"Yeah sorry, sorry, I gotchu."

You cannot help but roll your eyes. He sits there in silence for a moment and actually starts shooting out ideas. You start writing them down until you finally agree on one.

"I think that's a pretty good start," you say, proud you guys at least got something down.

"I think so too. What you doing after this?" He asks, running his hands over his curls.

"Track practice at 4, shower, hopefully dinner after," you say as you close up your laptop.

"You run track? Running is gross," he laughs.

"How you gonna say running is gross when all you do is run up and down the court?" You ask, a little too loudly, someone shushes you and you both crouch down and begin whispering.

"Basketball is more than that," he shot back, "you wouldn't know."

"Oh here we go, you all say that," you respond, flicking your wrist at him.

"You all?? What that mean?" He asks.

"As in all the basketball players," you laugh.

"Yeah yeah, you let me know when track become a real sport," he fires back.

"It is!" You slam your fist on the table and he smirks, as if he is happy to get you all riled up.

"Mhmmm," he replies.

  "Over this conversation," you say, getting up and throwing your backpack over your shoulder.

"When you trying to meet next?" He asks calmly, standing up close in front of you. You were looking up at him now, him being more than a foot taller than you made you feel small.

"I'm free all afternoon Wednesday, my class ends at 12:45p.m."

"You would know when your class ends, nerd." He responded.