Hello everyone! My name is Dabira, and I love to write stories about things I love. I love music, books, sports, and anime... so I'll write about those a lot. Welcome to my world! I hope you have fun!😘
Part 3 Guys! Haii! Omggg, the Knicks are about to win! Also, guys, im so sorry. Im coming to the realisation that I need money badly to continue college😭 So im thinking of starting a patreon where I'll drop exclusive stories every day, and also accept requests and drop my art. It'll also be so cheap since my currency is ass even 1 dollar is a good amount of money. Please let me know if you'll be interested! Thank you!!
"Wemby did what?"
Oh no.
Your heart dropped.
You and Hailey turned around slowly.
"Babe, relax its not like that. See-"
He cut her off. He never did that. Your heart started to race. You don't think you've ever seen him that angry before.
He turned to you.
"You kissed Victor Wembanyama? Tell me that's not true."
He paused.
You wished more than anything you could tell him it wasn't true. Tears welled up in your eyes.
"Shai-"
He laughed dryly.
"He's been talking shit for months. I'm busting my ass trying to beat him. Im getting slandered for losing to him. And my sister! My own sister, who's supposed to be my biggest supporter, is going behind my back to kiss him."
You were crying completely now.
Hailey's hand was on your back.
Your voice came out weak and soft.
"I didn't know."
He scoffed at you.
"He was the stranger. I had no idea-"
The way he stared at you made you feel stupid.
"You kept talking to that person?! You really have no regard for me."
The tears got worse.
"Shai, please. Calm down first."
"Hailey, I really want nothing from you right now. To hide all this from me is wild."
She was about to retort.
You held her hand to tell her not to talk. This is all your mistake. You didn't want them fighting because of you.
"Im sorry, Shai. It's all my fault, I also told Hailey not to tell you. Don't be mad at her."
He's voice was harsh.
"Of course it's your fault!"
He was about to say something, then stopped. He looked at you again and just walked away.
You fell to the floor crying. Hailey hugged you and comforted you.
You felt so shitty. You had betrayed your brother. Shai had done everything for you, and you had betrayed him. Your selfishness had led you here, and you were not about to let it continue ruining things.
You were not about to cause a rift between Hailey and Shai.
You sniffled.
"Hailey, go home. Ill be fine. Ill just stay in a hotel tonight."
Hailey frowned at you.
"Bullshit! Shai needs to calm down. Lets go home."
You shook your head.
"Hailey, please. You staying would just make me feel like I'm ruining more things."
After about 30 minutes of arguing and Hailey refusing to go, she helped you book an Uber to the best hotel around, hugged you and left.
You checked in to your hotel through tears, and you weren't even listening to what the reception lady was saying. You had no idea what type of room you paid for.
Luckily, probably noticing your bad mood, the receptionist led you to your room with very little stress.
You crashed on your bed and cried your heart out. You felt so shitty. You felt like the worst sister ever. You fell asleep crying.
You woke up to a loud knock on the door. You didn't even know much time had passed.
You basically crawled to the door, thinking it was room service.
"Hi, I really do not need-"
Your eyes drifted up.
Shai.
You did not have the words to say to him.
"Let's go home."
"Are you sure? I-"
"Do you need to carry me to anything?"
You shook your head and followed him. Apparently, he had checked you out because you just walked out. The receptionist just waved you goodbye.
You got in the passenger side beside him. Your breathing was laboured. You had so much to say and no words.
"It was stupid of you not to come home."
"Like yeah. Im angry at you. Very. But you're still my sister, and I love you more than anything. How do you think I felt when Hailey came home without you?"
"Im sorry."
Your voice was soft.
You noticed he didn't turn to his house, but into a street that led to a cozy restaurant that opened overnight.
You looked at him.
"Let's just talk."
You nodded.
You both sat down at a table and ordered milkshakes. You were still sniffling.
"Tell me everything. What happened after you disobeyed me."
You nervously told him everything through sniffles. The texts. The jokes you had together. You showed him texts. Told him about the gifts. The meet up and finally the kiss.
Even as you talked about him, your heart warmed.
Shai was silent throughout. He did not interrupt and just nodded in intervals.
You finished your story and fell silent. You were scared on how Shai would react.
"Do you like him."
You looked at him. His face was neutral, very matter-of-factly, there was no sarcasm or malice in his eyes.
You answered cautiously.
"I'm not sure. I think so. It's too soon to say."
Shai nodded again.
He paused.
"I was angry. But, I realise I was forcing my opinions of him on you. I still do not like him, and I wish you did not kiss him... But you are my sister, and if this is who you decide you want to be with, I have to support you."
You teared up again.
"But. I will be monitoring this relationship closely. And I hope you go about this with common sense."
You jumped on your brother hugging him.
"I do not deserve you Shai! I really do not. I love you."
You really had the best brother in the world.
The rest of the conversation was light. You talked about the playoffs, about old times, about family. Times like these were precious.
You ride back was comfortably silent too.
It was really late, and everyone was asleep. You and Shai wished each other goodbye, and you went to sleep.
A text came into your phone right before you fell asleep.
Omggg, i wrote it all out, and it was beautiful, and it deleted it! Ahhhhhhh! It was your beautiful comments that gave me the motivation to rewrite it. Also, Knicks in 4!!! I actually want the Knicks to win. They will avenge me! Yayyyy
"Let's meet tomorrow."
You reread the message about 11 times before jumping up and running to find Hailey. It was late, so you whisper-shouted to her.
"He wants to meet tomorrow! What should I say?"
Hailey grabbed your phone to read the message herself.
"It's game 7! How would you meet?"
You took back your phone and texted him.
"Omg! Im so excited, but I don't think tomorrow would work. It's Game 7 yk, I have to be there for my brother."
"Yeah, I know, love. Let's meet after the game"
You showed Hailey again and by this time you were practically jumping!
"Omg!! Im so excited to meet him!"
Hailey paused for a second and looked at you.
"What if it's a Spurs player?"
You stopped jumping and looked at her.
French. Lives in Texas. Spurs fan.
Could it be....
"Nah! No Spurs player would have the audacity to flirt with Shai's sister at this time. It's probably just some billionaire's son with a lot of time on his hands."
Hailey nodded,
"I hope so-"
A voice rang out behind you both.
"What are you guys talking about so late?"
You and Hailey froze.
"Um, just talking about tomorrow's game and stuff, babe. There's nothing to worry about! You should sleep early."
It now just clicked to how much you had hidden from Shai. You felt so guilty. You had never kept secrets from him before.
You suddenly had the feeling to tell him everything. Shai would at least send you with security if you insisted on meeting the stranger.
"Omg. I have to look at that cursed black jersey again."
He scoffed and muttered to himself.
"Ethical basketball, my ass. Imagine talking all that shit all season just to come and play like thugs. Pretentious, that's what Wemby is. Pretentious."
Hailey went to comfort her husband.
Shai pointed at you.
"You should stay away from men like that."
You nodded.
This was the worst time to tell Shai you had disobeyed him by keeping the gifts, receiving more, talking to the stranger, and now even planning on meeting him.
He was already so tense now. He would lose his mind then.
After some idle conversation, you went back to bed.
You couldn't understand why your mind started thinking of Wemby. Something about him drew you. When you watched interviews of him, he felt familiar. A sort of Deja Vu. Like you've met him before.
He was so tall. So beautiful. So smart. And such a good player. He-
You mentally slapped yourself. That was your brother's nemesis. He was a fraud. A hypocrite. And a Spur.
After a little difficulty you fell asleep.
The next morning was hectic. And your beloved nephew did not make it any easier. Finally you all were in the car heading to Paycom center.
The drive was quiet. Well, as quiet as it could be with a restless and active toddler in it.
Finally you arrived and the noise was deafening. Hailey and you sat together courtside.
"Are you nervous?"
You smiled at her.
"About which one?"
She smiled back warmly. You really did love Hailey so much.
"Both."
You just shrugged.
Before long, the game started. You dont think you had experienced anything so stressful. There was just this entity making everything so difficult. Some 7ft+ entity.
You and Hailey held hands throughout the game. OKC closed the leads, and that entity opened them again.
By the time the last buzzer sounded out. OKC was down 7. Despite the noise, everywhere went silent.
That was it.
OKC was out of the playoffs.
You wanted to cry.
Hailey and you went back to the locker rooms. OKC locker room was never quiet. Ever.
Now. A pin drop would sound like a missile. Shai sat with his head in his hands.
He had played well, he had.
But you knew better than to comfort him now. You could faintly hear the Spurs celebrating and the Western Conference MVP award being given.
Soon, all the players left for Post-Game interviews and a team meeting.
You hugged Shai before he left.
It was evil making players take interviews after losing such important games. Part of you understood why Wemby refused to attend that one time.
You sat in silence with Hailey when a message came in.
"Could we meet now?"
You were about to say it was a bad time and all, when Hailey softly nudged you.
"Go."
"Are you sure, it feels-"
"Go, Shai would be fine. Just text me ok?"
You nodded and hugged her.
The stranger texted you a location.
The locker room reserved for visiting teams.
Your heart started pounding as you moved closer to the room.
When you get there, you didn't fully go in. You peeked your head in and saw a figure tying his shoelaces. A figure too unusually tall. A figure that had ended your brother's playoff dreams.
Victor Wembanyama.
You swore your heart stopped beating.
"Are you just going to stay there. Come in."
You didn't think he had seen you. That 7ft 5 line of vision must be crazy.
You gingerly walked in and sat down on a chair he patted beside him.
He smiled at you. And. OMG. You don't think you've ever seen anything as gorgeous.
You were speechless.
"Suprise. Suprise."
"Hi Wemby."
Your voice came out smaller than intended.
"You are Wit_from_afar?"
He nodded.
You laughed a bit from shock.
"Im surprised you hadn't figured it out, to be honest."
"It crossed my mind, it just didn't think it was possible."
He laughed, and it sounded like something you should've paid to hear. Ethereal.
"My brother would never approve."
"Do you approve?"
"The internet would loose it's mind."
"What people don't know wouldn't kill them."
"Shai hates you."
"I can imagine, I just ended his championship run. I'd hate me too."
"He thinks you're pretentious because you had that whole ethical basketball speech."
He laughed hard at that.
"When in Rome, right?"
You weren't supposed to laugh at that, but you couldn't help it.
You playfully pushed his shoulder, and a charged silence suddenly overcame you.
You finally noticed how empty the locker room was. He probably chased his teammates out.
A message popped up on your phone and broke the silence.
Hailey.
"Shai is on his way back. Come back."
You looked at Wemby.
He nodded.
"I get it. You can go. We'll see soon."
You should have left. You should have. But you just had to do something. Your lips moved faster than your brain.
The kiss was soft and passionate. Sweet. He was a really good kisser. Then again. Weren't all French men?
You pulled away and smiled at him before running out.
You almost ran into Hailey.
"Wemby. Wemby. Its Wemby."
You said out of breath.
Hailey looked confused for a second before her eyes widened.
"WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!"
You told her everything.
"So Wemby has been flirting with you while talking shit about Shai, then kicks Shai out of the playoffs and kisses you?!"
You were about to reply.
"Wemby, did what?"
And that's where I leave you with part 2!! Stay tuned for part 3. I love you allll
Welp. The spurs kicked OKC out of the playoffs... Im still recovering😭. It's fine, tho. We'll get it next year. Congratulations on Wemby's first ring.... Cause literally what could the Knicks possibly do. I hope you enjoy this!! (It's a bit long sorry!)
You and your brother had always been close. Always, and being Shai's younger sister was the best thing ever. Even before he became an NBA superstar, Shai was a gem of a brother.
As long as he could help it, you never had to lift a finger. Shai always tried to make sure you were healthy (he'd have better luck summoning the ghost of Henry the 8th tbh), healthy and taken care of.
He was a bit too overprotective and overbearing... but the allowance/gifts made up for all that.
You were a professional baby sister; His biggest cheerleader, designated babysitter, harshest critique, sparring partner, money spender...
Soon, you had gained a following on social media. One for being Shai's sister, the groupies and fanatic fan boys were never far away. And two for being absolutely adorable and funny. You had started to gain your own personal fanbase, and your DMs started to pile up.
At first, it was exhilarating. You had read every DM and even replied to some nice ones. But as they grew in number and in malevolence... and prompting from Shai, you learnt to ignore them.
So when you returned back to your apartment one day and found a huge bouquet of pink roses almost bigger than you, and the unmistakable orange of an Hermes box. You only thought of one person... So you called him.
"OMGG, SHAIII! Thank youu! You're so the best brother ever!"
The voice that replied you sounded confused, "Thank you for what?"
You paused. All your friends were girls you knew from high school. None of them necessarily had the funds to pull this off. Plus, you were new in the US and had not made any close friends yet, and there were no men in your life... For better or for worse.
"You didn't send me the flowers and a Hermes bag?"
You could picture Shai sitting up, his voice became sharper, "Someone sent you flowers and a Hermes bag? Show me."
You turned on video call and showed him.
"I told you to tell me if you started talking to anyone."
"I haven't! I dont know who this could be from! Maybe it was dropped off at the wrong apartment"
You lifted the larger bouquet slightly, and an envelope dropped. And sure enough, in an unusually elegant handwriting was your name.
You slowly dropped the bouquet and your phone and opened the letter,
"My sweet angel,
Your soft, beautiful light is the only thing I can think about, I have to play a bit of a mystery game right now, and for that, I apologise. I trust you will understand my choices when we finally unite. I promise i will not waste your time. I always achieve what I set my heart on, and right now, my heart is entirely yours.
Enjoy your gifts, ma cherie, you deserve the world, and I can't wait to be the one that gives it to you.
wit_from_afar"
"Wth, kind of Shakespearean shit is this?"
You opened the Hermes box, and you immediately lost your breath. You hurriedly picked up your phone to show Shai.
Fushia
Crocodile skin
Glassy finish
Diamond encrusted
"Shai, I might be wrong, but im pretty sure this is a 200 thousand dollar bag."
An idea popped in your head. You looked at your phone.
"Ill call you back"
You did not wait to hear Shai protest before you cut the call.
You took a picture of the bag and sent it to your friend, Sarema.
Sarema knew everything there was to know about anything designer.
Then you called her.
After a lot of pleasantries and idle talk, you finally found an opportunity to actually talk about what you needed.
"Sarema babe, I sent you a picture, what bag is that?"
She paused, then gasped.
"Is that yours? How did you get it?! If that is original, then it looks like a Hermès Crocodile Diamond Birkin 35. Supper expensive. I think the last one sold at 222k. Seriously girlie! How'd you get that?"
"Ill explain later"
You cut the call, Sarema would ask too many questions if she knew what happened, and you'd be on the phone for hours. You weren't ready for that. You were still over shocked.
Finally, it hit you that you were still outside. You dragged the bouquet and the box into your apartment and plopped on your couch.
Shai had gifted you 30 thousand dollar bags before. Even 50. And you treated them like gods, you were still adjusting to Shai's new wallet size and trying to get used to owning luxury items.
Two hundred and twenty thousand dollars.
You reread the letter 7 more times.
Wit_from_afar.
You were still staring at the letter when a call snapped you out of it. Shai.
"Ive called you like 8 times. Never do that again!"
You rolled your eyes,
"I was talking to Sarema."
You told him how the conversation went.
He was quiet for a minute.
"Is there a return address?"
"Im not returning this!"
"Yes, you are! You do not know who this person it. Not many people have 200k to throw around like that. It could be a very dangerous individual. How did they even find your address?! We're getting you a new apartment, and then we'll find a way to return it, and that's final."
Shai was using his parent voice. There was no use arguing with him like this. You just nodded and switched the conversation. 2 hours and the cutest conversation with your nephew later, you crashed on your bed and started to doomscroll. Then you relieved a DM
Usually, you would mute and ignore, but this username was impossible to ignore.
wit_from_afar
You clicked it so fast.
"Hi my sweet angel, I hoped you liked your gift."
You replied instantly.
"Hello stranger, um yeah the gifts were amazing. Pink is my favorite colour. Thank you."
"But like, im kind of scared, you aren't a mafia king or anything right. My brother wants me to return the gifts."
The stranger typed, then stopped then typed again.
"😭😭😭"
"My love, I couldnt survive in the mafia even of i wanted to join. Im a very easy person to find you'll see."
"About your brother, he does too much. Ignore him."
You frowned. Did he know Shai personally?
"Do you know my brother?"
"Who doesn't, love?"
"I cannot go a day without hearing about him.🙄"
"Not a fan?😭"
"No i cannot say I am🙃"
He was surprisingly easy to talk to and you found yourself talking to him for hours. Finally at around 2am, you told him goodbye.
You gathered all you knew about him. He was really smart and you were unable to trick him into giving any key information about his person.
But you had begun to like him. He was nerdy like you.
You liked the same books, same movies and held similar views on life. He seemed very introspective and in touch with his emotions and it was such a breath of fresh air from all the nonchalant warriors, of which your own brother had unfortunately become a pioneer.
He lived in Texas... You were starting to think he was some billionaire's kid with way to much access to money.
He was a Spurs fan... Explained the dislike for your brother.
He had French blood in him... Explained the romantic part
Still he was a very interesting person and you found yourself dying to know more.
You knew Shai would throw a fit if he found out you were talking to the rich stranger, so you decided to keep it from him... what he didn't know wouldn't kill him.
As the months/NBA season went on, you and the mystery man talked more and more.
You travelled to OKC often to visit Shai and Hailey, babysit Ares and watch games. You were a huge basketball fan and always attended games when you could.
And everytime you returned back to your apartment, there would always be a bouquet of pink flowers, a sweet letter, and a crazy expensive item.
With all the games and stress, Shai had forgotten about his sister's suitor, so you confided in Hailey. And she was way more receptive. You loved Hailey so much, she was the sister you never had. You both schemed on how to uncover who he was and imagined your first meeting.
Time went on and you and the stranger became closer and closer.
Soon it was the NBA Western Conference Finals and the Spurs were playing the Thunder. The series had been a roller coaster and you dont think you had even been this nervous ever.
You wanted nothing more than your brother to win, but there was this player on the court that was just so magical. Victor Wembanyama.
You had attended every game in the series, and you swore he made smiled at you everytime he made a shot. You just assumed he was taunting you since you were Shai's sister.
Finally it was the night before game 7 and you were tense. Your mystery lover had been offline alot recently. He said it was work but didnt explain, you hardly had time either. Travelling, watching games and being there for Shai was draining.
You were on your bed in Shai's house when his message came in.
You didnt even know it was a curse at first, it seemed like a fever almost. Nagging migraines, sweating in the freezing cold. Doctors had done every test under the moon. Nothing.
Then it became worse, you woke up to your room looking like a hurricaine had passed through it and most frightening of all, spiral cuts on your leg running around your upper thigh to your ankle, the pain was unbearable and then you felt it. You weren't alone. There was something. A force. A power. Something holding on to you. Something that wanted you dead.
You never truly believed in curses and jujutsu. Who could blame you? You had been raised in a practical, no-nonsense household where logic held precedence above all. Now, though. You believed. And you desperately needed a solution. This couldn't continue another night.
You found the number in a comment thread online:
“Suguru Geto helps people haunted by things they can’t name.”
You called. A calm voice invited you to visit the compound outside the city. It didnt look too fishy, it made sense that a jujutsu sorcerer wasn't in a high-rise in the middle of Tokyo.
Getting there was hell, you wore a huge maxi skirt to hide the cut on your leg, your family would think you needed a psychiatrist and not a "magician." The drive there was the most difficult thing you've ever done, the sting got worse as you got closer, and the force got heavier. Like it was protesting your destination. Like it knew where you were headed.
The compound was quiet. No not just quiet. Zen. It had this unnatural calming feel, flowers made the air smell faintly sweet and the sound of a river seemed to swallow all fears. The people there were wierder, they smiled too easily, were too hospitable. Almost as if sadness wasn't allowed. You allowed yourself to be directed by a small soft looking woman. You just walked. You weren't thinking for some reason, it didn't seem needed here. You couldn't even feel the pain anymore. You felt like you were floating in the air, like your body was being controlled by this superior being.
When you entered the main hall, you saw him. Suguru Geto.
He wasn’t what you expected. You had expected an old, 300-ish man with an imposing presence. But no.
He looked young. Charming. Unbelievably attractive with long black flowing hair and a peaceful look that went with the environment. Still you felt his authority, the way the energy in the room moved with him.
His eyes were steady and kind but filled with pity. Like he saw you as lesser than, like a helpless cat, and you never felt the urge to impress someone more. He looked at you like he knew. He knew everything, your fears, your joys, your secrets. And for some reason, it didn't scare you.
“I hear you’re haunted,” he said.
You nodded. You stood before him, and he really did look like a god before you.
He spoke about fear how it feeds what hurts us, how belief can change its shape. His voice carried no pressure, only certainty.
“Curses are born from imbalance,” he said. “If you let me help you, we’ll restore yours.”
He didn’t perform rituals. He just stretched out his hand, and you felt as if a boulder had been lifted of your back. Tension you didn't even know you had lifted from your body. You fell to the floor, and tears flowed from your eyes. You didn't even know why you were crying. Was this salvation? You looked up at him again.
Now he was standing, and your breath hitched as you saw him walk towards you. He lifted your skirt slowly, his touch felt like life itself. You felt it once, and you knew you could never live without it. He saw the cuts on your leg and looked at you.
"Poor thing,"
Your tear stricken glassy eyes just stared in awe. You didnt know what would even be appropriate to say in the face of glory. He ran his hands past the cuts and carefully massaged your thigh. They started to close. Was this the hand of god? He had done almost nothing, yet he had changed your life.
Your body started to respond to his touch in ways you didnt know it could.
You were never a down bad person. You had a healthy enough sex life, but you were never desperate. Yet here you were unraveling infront of this divine stranger. You tried to hide the lust coursing through you, but he saw through it. He always did.
It was probably minutes, but it felt like hours when he finally pulled back.
You finally came back... partly.
"Payment?"
Was all you managed to get out.
He smiled again,
"Your devotion would be enough."
I have parts 2 and 3 planned if you like this one! Let me know if you want it. Love you always!🧚♀️💕
Authors Note: The love I have for this man? He's so perfect, omggggg😭. Also, the MC is inspired by Taylor Rooks (She's so majestic). Hope you enjoy this one. I LOVE YOU ALL 🧚♀️💕
It was common knowledge by now that ESPN existed as rage bait for the masses.
From the absolutely ridiculous takes that made you wonder if they even watched the game, to the most inept journalists you’d ever come across. I mean…
"Um… Kevin Durant, why do they call you KD?"
That was the height. Players hated those cursed words.
"…From ESPN."
It either signalled a question that would make a brain-dead person pause in confusion or a sentence from Stephen A. Smith, that would make you want to rip your hair out.
Either way, you were the saving grace.
New journalist, fresh out of USC.
You first made waves for your looks, the kind that made everyone around you seem like they’d been created by intern angels.
Then you made waves for your takes. You loved the game. You loved the players. You actually watched full games and had a high basketball IQ. You advocated for the players, understood the pressure they faced, and knew how much they endured.
And for that, they loved you.
Bad games were suddenly not so bad when you came around.
And when you interviewed them? Suddenly, even the most mediocre player could look like a legend.
When Ja Morant bragged he could outscore Michael Jordan in an interview, nobody gave him a hard time. They understood…
"Nobody could resist Y/N's charm. The lies just come."
You adored your job: the players, the courtside tickets, the salary... you could go on. But underneath it all, you loved the attention. You loved watching them stumble over their words when you were around. The heat in their eyes. The way their fingers lingered a little too long.
You loved leading them on. The DMs. Sometimes you even let them hit, just for fun. The thrill was intoxicating.
And tonight, it was in full force. The first game of the season: Thunder vs. Rockets. The Thunder had come off a historic season, and the Rockets had just signed Kevin Durant.
The game was electric. Thunder won by two points, and Jalen had made the winning shot.
You had been drawn to him all game. Stunning on camera… but in person? Absolutely breathtaking. On the court? He made your heart hammer like a drum.
And you couldn’t stop thinking about the way his hands had brushed yours before, the low, teasing voice that left goosebumps trailing down your skin. Too much.
It wasn’t your first Thunder interview. They were energetic, fun, and always game for teasing you. You tried to stay neutral, but everyone knew your bias. And they loved it.
You didn’t miss the way Jalen’s gaze lingered, hot and deliberate. Your pulse quickened, but you were on camera. Professionalism first.
Finally, it was just the two of you for the interview.
“Jalen, you were absolutely amazing tonight! You seem even sharper this season. Is there something pushing you harder this year?”
He leaned in slightly, eyes locking with yours, tone low.
“Yeah.”
You swallowed hard.
“Yeah… what?”
“You.”
The words hit like a punch. You blinked, heart hammering, cheeks flaming. If you were any paler, you’d match the white of your notepad.
You laughed nervously, trying to recover.
“You do realize we’re live, right?”
He smirked, shrugging as if it didn’t matter.
“I like taking risks.”
The interview went on, but it was impossible to focus. Every word, every pause, every glance had your stomach twisting into knots. You stuttered, laughed too loudly, and cursed yourself internally. You were unravelling live on national TV.
Finally, mercifully, it was over.
You bolted to your hotel room to catch your breath. Social media would explode. Fans shipped you with a new player every 3 business hours. But this one? This one was different.
An hour later, still replaying every glance, every brush of his hand, there was a knock at your door...
You opened it. Nobody was there. Just a massive bouquet of red roses and a simple letter.
● They say a man and a woman can't be just friends. Both you and Amen denied this vehemently. "Look at us!" You both said, and everyone would say, "Exactly." Even a blind, deaf, dumb and brain-dead rat could feel the love between you too. Everyone but you two, and honestly... it was getting annoying.
● So when you guys finally made it official... Who was surprised? Absolutely NOBODY.
● Amen was quite a jealous boyfriend. It's not overbearing, but it's there.
You had made a new male friend since you moved to Houston with him. Nothing inappropriate, but you started talking more and more. Amen was having NONE of it. "Babe, hes just a friend!" "I was also just a friend Y/n!" "That's different. You're different." He kissed your forehead, "I still dont like it."
● Amen couldn't keep his hands off your body, and hjs lips off your face. He needed you the way fishes need water. After a bad game. After a good game. After no game. It was so easy for you to distract him, too. Its so cute.
One day, you were having an argument over God knows what, you couldn't even remember. But he was very annoyed, and you wanted the argument over. It didn't take much, or any words for that matter, by the time your clothes were off, the words faded.
● Amen was also very competitive. He was never part of the "Let your girl friend win" club. Absolutely not. Basketball. Uno. First-to-get-to-the-door. He needed to win. He also talked a lot of smack. So when he bluffed that, he could take both you and Ausar in a game of 2v1 basketball (more like 1.5v1... you weren't that good). You decided to call his bluff. Ausar was always ready to knock. Amen down a peg. He put up a surprising fight, though, but Ausar and you ultimately won. He did NOT want to leave the gym.
● People always said Amen was reserved and didn't talk much, but you had a different story. He never shut up! It made you laugh when people put the "Reseved" label on him.
● Amen was extraordinarily strong. When he played wrestled with you, it made you a bit afraid the way hes effortlessly pick you up and gently slam you into the bed. It was also such a biiiig turn on omg.
● Amen did not know how to take a compliment, everytime you told him he was cute, he would look disgusted. "Me? Cute?" But you saw the small smile afterwards. In your eyes, there was nobody more precious that Amen Thompson.
I'm so sorry this took so long! I was experiencing Writer's block. I hope you liked this one! Its quite short, cause I think my skills as a writer is diminishing. Love you alll
“All wealth is the product of good labour.” - John Locke.
Obviously, that absolute fucking moron never worked at an underfunded, understaffed, overcrowded clinic.
Cause you were labouring all right. But the wealth wasn’t wealthing. Make it make sense!
Your pride? Completely shattered. You were back in scrubs, forced to kiss up to your pig-faced, monkey-brained, skunk-smelling supervisor just to avoid being assigned waste duty.
Humiliating.
Your coworkers weren’t any better. The fake sympathy, the whispers when your name came up. “She used to be with Ant, right?” Like you couldn’t hear them.
And yet, you couldn’t help yourself. You knew you shouldnt. But, you still watched the interviews, the highlights, the analysts absolutely glazing the fuck out of that man.
And there he was. Taking it all in. Looking smug, looking proud. Looking better than ever. If you had your way, you’d smash a steel rod across that perfect face. Or maybe kiss him first, just so your lips would be the last thing he felt.
"Y/n."
You blinked, dragged out of your daydream.
"Y/N!"
Your coworker hovered, unimpressed. "Girl. He moved on. Forget it. The Birkins are gone. You’re back to peasantry, darling. Now go change the bandage in Room A."
This bitch.
But you went. Because that’s what peasants do.
You shoved the door open
and froze.
Of course. Of fucking course. The devil himself
Anthony Edwards.
Sitting there like the hospital bed was his throne, gown sliding off his shoulders, chain peeking through like even polyester couldn’t humble him.
He grinned. "Damn. I knew it’d work."
"What the hell are you doing here?"
"Pulled a lil’ something in practice," he said smiling cheekily, lounging like he was at home. "Thought I'd run down to see my favorite nurse."
You rolled your eyes, "Ant, youre clearly fine. Get your scummy self up and leave."
He smirked. "Still talkin’ slick. After all this time?"
"What do you want, Ant? I’ve got actual patients to see. Ones who didn’t cheat on me with retirement home regulars."
He laughed. "Aye, stop playin’. You still mad about that? I told you it wasn’t like that."
"Oh, right. You wasn’t thinkin’ straight.’" You mimicked him. "Classic excuse for raw-dogging somebody’s grandma."
His smile vanished. He sat up, voice sharp, the air suddenly thicker. And.. when did the air con stop working?
"Watch your mouth. You think you can clown me? After all I did for you?"
"Yeah, you did a lot. Ruined my life, trashed my name, left me broke. Thanks, bro."
"Stop callin’ me that," he snapped, leaning in. His eyes locked on yours. "Ion like it. I ain’t your brother. You know damn well what I am."
Your throat tightened, but you kept your chin high. "Right now, you’re a pain in my butt. And I should report you for wasting everyone’s time."
He chuckled, low. "You not gon’ do that."
"Why not?"
"Cause you miss me. You hate this job. Hate this boss. Hate them long-ass shifts. You miss the penthouse, the cars, sittin’ courtside while the world watched. You ain’t built for this broke shit."
You froze. Because he wasn’t wrong. You truly didn't get on well with the PoOrs.
"I came here to take you back," he pressed. "You look unhappy anyways. Let me fix it. I’ll shut everybody up. Make you untouchable again."
"And in return?" you asked, voice thin. "Another DNA test scandal?"
He smirked. "Nah. You get me. For real this time. Locked in. I ain’t lettin’ you run off again."
Your laugh cracked out, shaky. "You’re insane."
"And you love it."
God help you, he was right.
You tell yourself it's not that you want Anthony. You just hate this life. You're not burying your pride, you're dressing her up.
Rushed this one a bit. I don't think it's very good. Hope you like it tho! Let me know!❤️🧚♀️
They also cheat, manipulate, gaslight, and still find a way to be completely irresistible.
You would know. Just two months ago, you were living in Anthony’s luxury penthouse, attending his games draped in designer, really owning the “NBA girlfriend” role. People made edits of you. TikToks with captions like “he changed for her” or “this is what real love looks like.” You’d been with him for two years, and you weren’t even carrying his child yet. That was a record!
You had quit your job at his insistence.
"You look miserable anyway, shorty. Ion want you stressed. Just stay home — I’ll take care of you."
You didn’t hate the idea. Twelve-hour shifts as a nurse, with patients cussing you out and monkey- brained supervisors breathing down your neck, had drained you anyway. Plus, the thought of trading in scrubs for silk sets and courtside seats? Tempting.
So you let him take over. Financially dependent, lifestyle dependent. But that was fine, right? Because everybody knew he was obsessed with you. Black love’s poster couple. He’d never do you dirty, right?
WRONG.
He’s a man. Keep up.
One TikTok. A picture. And then the big one... A DNA test. And it was all over.
You didn’t even understand it. The woman was damn near old enough to be his mom. And loud. Uncouth. Rude. Ghetto. Then again… kind of like him. Huh.
She wasted no time. Media tour. Photos. Every podcast willing to give her a mic got the story. Soon the whole world knew she was carrying Ant’s baby.
And him? You thought he’d support you. Fight for you. At the very least, apologize. Right? You were the love of his life. Right?
WRONG.
"Man, it ain’t even really my fault. Too many drinks, I wasn’t thinkin’ straight."
And if you had anything, it was pride.
"I’m leaving you."
He had the nerve to smirk. "You ain’t. You got nothin’ without me."
The fucking audacity.
So you left.
And now, here you are. Lying on the bed of a cramped one-bedroom apartment, staring at a ceiling that leaked when it rained. You’d tried to make a point, leaving behind every expensive gift he bought you. Birkin bags, iced-out chains, untouched Dior perfumes. STUPID. All still sitting pretty in that penthouse closet... Probably wiatung for the next girl. You thought walking away empty-handed would prove you didn’t need him. But the world doesn’t reward pride or stupidity.
Now you’re broke, unemployed, and branded “Ant’s ex.” The internet that once worshipped you now mocks you. You don’t even check your phone anymore; the comments are too cruel. People are so evil. Yk what? Maybe Tiktok should be banned.
Meanwhile, she’s still loud, still on her rampage, proudly pregnant. And Anthony? He’s dropping 30 points a night like nothing happened. No interviews, no apologies. Just that grin on TV, like your entire world hadn’t collapsed.
And you? You’re humiliated. You’ve texted old coworkers, even the ones you didn’t really like, just to see if they’ve heard of openings at the hospital. You’ve stared at your license number on the state registry more than once, reminding yourself you are still a nurse. And the worst part? You’ve caught yourself considering the unthinkable: crawling back to that pig-faced supervisor you used to cuss out under your breath. The one you had swore you would never see again, thinking maybe you could fake a smile, kiss up, anything to get back in.
It burns your pride worse than the breakup. But right now? This is the most humiliating thing you’ve ever lived through. Fuck men fr. Most importantly, fuck Ant.
Whatever the case.
It’s not like Anthony was that hot, Not like he had such a charming accent, Not like he had magic hands or anything. You’d never go back to him.
…Right?
This was my first fic. There's really not enough NBA fics out there. Hope you like it! Let me know! This one has a part 2 in the works❤️🧚♀️
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