One-Shot Fanfic Imagines

43rd (LUKA DONČIĆ)

> Mostly Luka's POV where he's in the locker room with his team pre-game. He gets a call from the reader, his girlfriend for 2 years, saying she's pregnant.

WARNINGS: noneee

~~~

Luka took his jersey from the hanger, subtly humming through the music stuck in his head. There were a few murmurs going around him, but what really stood out was Maxi's booming laughter and Josh's few jokes here and there.

He didn't mind. He was used to it, actually. And Rick, their head coach, had just finished giving them their usual pep talk about playing their roles out the court, and that they still have a long way to shoot their shot for the upcoming playoffs. Every game matters, the small voice pestered his mind.

"Ey man, how 'bout some beers after the game?"

Dorian asked, lightly tapping on his upper arm. Luka turned back to look at him, slipping his arms onto the sleeves of his green uniform.

"Yeah, sure," he shrugged. "Don't forget the bet Jalen had last practice. If we win, he pays all."

The man across him laughed, causing Luka to snicker as they both faced Jalen  from a few centimeters away, casually putting on his own jersey. They both caught his attention, making him narrow his eyes.

"Ey, Jalen pays all the booze tonight if we win," Dorian hollered, earning a few wolf whistles around. "Damn, almost forgot that one."

"We win tonight and we'll make 'im go broke tomorrow morning," Josh said, tutting a finger at Jalen. "You asked for this."

"Yeah, yeah whatever," he chuckled, dismissing all of them with an eye roll. "If I know you'd all be asleep after third round."

"Ha, just don't go bombin' this game." Luka teased, tugging the hem down before tucking it in his shorts and tying the drawstring.

"I'd never do that." The other countered defensively.

Luka turned away from the group and faced his locker once again, picking up some of his belongings to put it inside the vertical drawer. He was about to close the door when his phone buzzed alight and vibrated on top of his jeans. With furrowed eyebrows, he picked it up only to find out the caller ID flashed your name with a blue and white heart emoji on the screen.

"Hello baby-"

He greeted as soon as he answered your call, placing the device against his ear. But his words faltered when he heard a soft whimper from the other line. The line between his brow came deeper, utter confusion and alertness swept over his face. He could imagine in his head right now how you could be alone in your kitchen, sitting on the floor with your head buried on your palms. He hoped he was wrong.

"Babe, what's wrong?"

He heard you sniff, and there was a low lull of voices sounding like an argument. Perhaps you were watching TV.

"Babe, are you guys still in the locker room?" You quietly asked.

Your voice sounded hoarse, and it made his heart swell in sadness. Whatever was making you cry, he knew he should've been there for you. "Yes, we are. Game starts in fifteen. Got little more than less time. You're crying, babe. Why?"

You sniffed again, followed by a shudder-like breath. Maybe you had a bad day at work. Or what if you got fired? You mentioned to him last time about how your boss was quite a first-class-pain-in-the-ass and your workmates were a handful. Or maybe you finally quit your job? His mind was on absolute overdrive thinking of reasons as to what made you cry, when 2 weeks ago, you had been nothing but the personified rendition of the rainbow and the pot of gold.