In Need. | Allen Iverson.

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Reader's Name: Jasmine

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Reader's Name: Jasmine.
Starring: Allen Iverson.

♡(Requested)♡

                  ♡♥︎♡

With expert precision, he dribbles the Spalding basketball, engraved with the iconic logo, across the smooth maple floor. His gaze is fixed on the buzzer, nestled in the center of the four-cinder block walls surrounding them. The bright red LED display taunts him with only 12 seconds left on the clock. The crowd's chant of "Allen! Iverson!" echoes through the court, becoming a rhythmic mantra intertwined with the sound of the ball bouncing. Beads of sweat trickled at his hairline, and he exhales deeply, ready for the game-winning shot.

Swiftly gliding from side to side, Allen faced his opponent from the Lakers, Kobe Bryant. With agility and precision, Allen performed a quick spin around Kobe, evading his move effortlessly. Demonstrating his unparalleled skill, Allen sprinted towards the basketball hoop as the coach shouted something from the sidelines.

With his tongue darting across his lips, Allen took a leap and launched the ball towards the hoop. All eyes were fixed on the sphere as it ricocheted off the rim and landed in Shaq's outstretched hands.

Without missing a beat, Shaq passed the ball to Kobe, who soared upwards and slammed the ball into the net with a thunderous dunk. The crowd erupted in a chorus of cheers, applauding the Lakers for their triumphant victory.

Allen strode alongside his Sixers teammates, irritation etched into his face as he smacked his lips. Without uttering a word or cracking a joke, he made his way into the gym lockers. He took a quick shower and dressed in his baggy grey sweatpants and hoodie. Securing his durag over his freshly-done cornrows, he was upset about the game. hearing words like "..tough luck, Allen" and "you'll get them next time" from his teammates as he passed by.

Allen's mind was already on the next game, focused on what he could do better and what moves he needed to perfect.

He knew that losses were a part of the game, but he refused to let them define him. With a determined look on his face, Allen grabbed his grey duffle bag and headed out of the locker, ready to start practicing again.

                ♡♥︎♡

Allen pulled up to their home in his sleek jet-black BMW, the tires rolling smoothly onto the curves of the driveway, his gaze fixed on the house. He let out a deep sigh, still reeling from losing the game to the Lakers tonight. A part of him couldn't help but blame himself for not making the winning shot.

Turning off the engine, he pulled on the door handle and stepped out of the car. With a press of his thumb on the car keys, he locked the doors, the double beep echoing in his ears. He made his way towards the door, inserted the keys into the keyhole, and turned it, opening the door.

As he entered the house, Allen couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over him. He was happy to be home to his wife Jasmine, "Jas! I'm home baby!" He called out, dropping his duffle bag into the spacious bedroom.

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