#Anthony Edwards | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

all444glo · 11 days ago

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𝙋𝙊𝙄𝙎𝙊𝙉

“Girl you do damage to me”

📷:You’re a former athlete turned rising sports journalist, and you met Anthony Edwards while covering the 2024–25 season. By Christmas, you were inseparable. But even love couldn’t protect you from the kind of betrayal that follows men with too many cameras and too much access.

⚠️ ||makeup sex, unprotected sex, light choking, hair pulling, possessive dialogue, breeding kink, stomach pressure, praise and degradation, mentions of cheating (past), toxic relationship dynamics, strong language blah blah blah

The bass of the after-party pulsed through my chest, but my body wasn’t moving. I sat at the bar in a ed hardy crop top and cheetah print skirt that clung to my thighs, sipping something pink and sweet, smiling politely when anyone came up to speak. My camera crew had already dipped. My manager texted me three times to “network,” but I’d stopped trying to force a good time two hours ago.

I should’ve been happy. This was the biggest moment of my career so far—an invite to cover the Western Conference Finals, interviews with players, press passes, private dinners, free fits, the whole dream package. I had footage to edit, a podcast to record, brand deals to lock in… but my head was stuck on him.

Anthony Edwards had played his ass off. Forty-two points in Game 5. As usual he pissed everybody off, but played so well you couldn’t tell him shit. Carried the Wolves, and then went straight-faced into the press conference like it was just another Tuesday. I watched him answer every question with that cocky smile and pretend like nothing phased him. Not even me, seated front row, scribbling notes like him and I didn’t have a devastating breakup weeks ago.

I'd ignored the blogs. The Twitter whispers. The random girl tagging herself at his crib with a caption that said “he love it here” Everyone warned me. “All athletes are the same .” “You know he’s a whore.”

But I didn’t care about any of that.

That was the problem. I looked past the chain and the smirk and the shit-talking and saw Anthony, the one who rubbed my feet while I edited videos on deadline and kissed my shoulder before he left for road trips. I thought he was different because he said he liked me for my brain before my ass. Stupid.

“Y/N.”

My eyes snapped up, of course he was here.

He had on a black tee, low gold chain, and sweatpants that screamed “I just threw this on.” Although He did look good—too good. Too tall. Too smug.

“Thought you weren’t coming,” he said, sliding next to me at the bar.

“I didn’t come for you,” I replied instantly.

He smirked. “Didn’t say you did.”

I sipped my drink and didn’t look at him.

“You could at least say congrats.”

“Congrats,” I muttered sarcastically, glancing at his lips, then away. “You played great. Amazing, actually. MVP-worthy.”

He leaned on his elbows, his voice low. “That pride shit is gon be the death of you, but let me not talk to you crazy. I know how you get.”

I turned to him. “You still mad I said you weren’t media trained on my podcast?”

He laughed. “You still mad I said being an influencer ain’t a real job?”

I tilted my head. “It’s funny. I actually work for a living. You just bounce a ball and cheat.”

That made his jaw tick.

“You still believe that bullshit?”

“She posted you in her bed, Anthony.”

He scoffed. “After you ghosted me for a week and went to that Spotify summit with your lil media friends.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault you couldn’t keep your dick to yourself?”

He leaned in closer, breath warm against my cheek. “You act like you ain’t miss it.”

I scrunched my nose up at him, looking him up and down. His self prostitution always disgusted me. Anthony probably thought his dick had more value than his actual ability to play basketball. I put a few bills on the counter and walked out, needing to get away from the tension in the club.

Outside the club, the cool air hit me like a slap. I was already calling my Uber when he followed me out.

“I’m not letting this be the last time we talk,” he said.

I didn’t even turn around. “You already did that when you let someone else fuck you.”

He sighed. “I know I messed up, you keep punishing me instead of moving forward”

“I’m moving forward, by moving on Anthony“

He stepped in front of me. “Y/N—”

“What?”

“I miss you. And I ain’t gon’ lie like I don’t still think about you every damn day.”

“You think I give a fuck about you missing me?”

“I’m saying I want to fix this.”

I laughed. “With your dick? With your money? With your petty insults? With what Ant?”

I felt my eyes get heavy. I was tearing up outside of one of the biggest events in my career field, how embarrassing? “You could’ve just left me alone, I really don’t understand—”

He ran a hand over his face. “I ain’t come here to fight.”

“I don’t care what you came here to do, I don’t want you here in general”

That one hit.

He went quiet for a moment, staring at me like I’d slipped through his fingers.

“I ain’t never love nobody like I loved you,” he finally said.

I blinked back the sting in my eyes. “And I ain’t never hate nobody like I hate you.”

My Uber pulled up, and I turned to leave.

“Y/N,” he called after me.

I paused. Only a little.

“Let me come up. Just to talk.”

I exhaled, throat tight. “You get five minutes.”

I unlocked the door to my room and tossed my stuff to the side. I didn’t even take off my shoes before I turned around.

“You cheated. I trusted you.”

He stepped forward. “You ain’t never really trusted me.”

“You made me feel like I could have! You made me feel safe—then you let the internet treat me like a clown.”

“I defended you—”

“Where? In private? Quietly? While you let people say I was just some IG bitch who got lucky?”

He sighed, shaking his head. “I was tryna protect you.”

“Don’t flip it,” I snapped. “You let the media drag my name, let people call me a clout chaser while you were out here smiling in post-game interviews.”

He crossed his arms. “Y/N Please. Let’s not act like Ian make yo name jump. You were just doing youtube relationship recaps showing all 32 until we—”

“Wow.” My chest hollowed. “That’s sick.”

He shrugged. “Tell me I’m lying.”

“I have a whole master’s degree, Anthony. A real one. Not honorary. Not gifted. I did the work—publications, bylines, panel talks—before you ever followed me. Don’t ever try me like I’m some groupie bitch you elevated.”

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“Say it again,” I challenged. “Say you made me. I dare you.”

He stepped closer, jaw tight. “I ain’t mean it like that.”

“No—you did. And you know what? That’s what hurts the most. Not the cheating, not the girls in your phone. It’s that deep down, you really believe I need you to be something.”

He didn’t say anything. His breathing was heavy. So was mine.

“You really think after all this I don’t care?”

“I think you care about yourself, and you wanna keep me around—“

“I still read every damn article you publish. I know when you’re faking a smile on camera. I saw that whole Pour Minds interview—you looked sad as hell even while smiling with your favorite people.”

I looked up at him, stunned, silent.

“You think you slick, Y/N? I love you—even when you try so hard to make the fucking media think I don’t .”

My chest heaved. “I hate you.”

He leaned down, his lips a breath from mine. “Then why are you still letting me stand here?”

I kissed him first.

Harsh. Angrily. Like I hated his guts but couldn’t keep my hands off of him.

He caught my face in his hands and kissed me back like he missed the taste of my mouth. Like he'd been starving. His hands roamed my waist, my thighs, gripping and releasing like he didn’t know where to hold on.

He spun me around, pressing me against the door, tongue licking into my mouth like he needed to silence everything we hadn’t said.

“You look so fucking good,” he whispered, teeth grazing my neck. “You wylin for what, knowing damn well you coming home .”

“You’re still not forgiven,” I breathed.

“I know.” His hands slid under my skirt, gripping my ass fingers grazing the growing wetness in my underwear. “But that pussy forgave me”

I moaned as he lifted me, carrying me to the bed, laying me down like I was still a doll he was scared to break. He stripped me slow, kissing every inch of skin he uncovered, whispering variations of , “You still mine” “I Love you.” “You so pretty”

“Open ,” he demanded. I hesitated just to spite him, but he didn’t flinch. “Don’t make me ask again.”

I giggled lightly and spread my legs.

The first lick was soft. Gentle. A tease.

But by the third? He was eating me like he’d gone starving since the last time. Hands gripping my thighs, tongue deep and sloppy and deliberate. What Anthony lacked in overall decorum, he made up for in the bedroom.

“Mmmm,” I gasped.

“You still don’t want me?,” he said, rising to kiss me, my taste lingering on his lips. “You still hate me?”

I nodded furiously, only to be grabbed by Anthony suddenly. He had that same smirk on his face, such a prideful man. He loved when he had a point to prove.

He flipped me over, ass up, face down, the way he knew made me melt and rage at the same time.

“You mad, huh?” he muttered as he slid in, slow and thick, my breath hitching with every inch. “Mad as fuck I still feel this good.”

“Ooo you get on my nerves.” I teased

“And you love it.” His hand gripped my throat from behind, bending my back toward him like a bow. “This pussy made for me. She don’t want nobody else.”

He pushed deep and stayed there, grinding into me slow. “Tell me it’s not mine.”

I couldn’t—I wouldn’t

“Go ahead tell me Y/N.”

“You ain’t shit,” I whispered.

“But It’s mine, ain’t it?” he whispered back, voice raw.

His hand slid down my stomach, pressing firm. “You feel that?” he muttered. “That’s me. Deep in this shit. Where I belong.”

He leaned down to my ear, breath warm.

“Finna get sixty acres with you. Our own land. Compound. Goats and shit. You barefoot in our garden pregnant with my fifth.”

“Stop! I told you bout that shit!—,” I hissed, knowing his intentions.

“Hush.” His fingers forcing their way into my mouth, I sucked them on instinct.

Lord we knew each other so well.

He started snapping his hips harder, meaner, but still with that sick, rhythmic control. Every thrust a punctuation mark. I met him just as hard, matching it out of spite, out of need, out of a love i’d never say out loud.

He came in me with a growl, chest pressed to my back, still whispering filth and fantasies.

Afterward, he collapsed beside me, both of us catching our breath, the room silent except for the faint hum of the city.

I turned my back to him. “This doesn’t mean anything.”

He pulled me close anyway, hand sliding up my thigh. “Yeah, yeah you still ain’t told me to leave.”

“Shut up.”

“Still mad?”

“I will always be mad.”

He kissed the side of my neck. “And I’mma always love you.”

I didn’t answer. But I didn’t move either.

I knew Anthony loved me, he always showed it but I knew I couldn’t trust him. But lord knows I could try.

I reached back, grabbed his hand, and pressed it to my belly.

“Sixty acres?”

“Minimum,” he whispered.

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all444glo · 4 days ago

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JADED

🎞️|| A post-game dinner with friends turns messy when Anthony’s jealousy flares. You say it’s not that deep — but he’s already spiraling.

⚠️|| jealousy, arguing, possessiveness, toxic love undertones,language, u and ant don’t need to be together chile

“Lord knows you still look amazin', that’s besides the point I'm makin' You're way too opinionated, I have to force it, to have to fake it”

��Anthony It’s not even that deep.”

The door hadn’t even clicked shut before you snapped, tossing your purse on the table like it did something too. You were pacing the moment your heels hit the floor.

Anthony trailed in behind you, already tight in the chest. “You really gon act like I’m tweaking’?”

“You are tweaking!” you whipped around. “All night, you had an attitude for no damn reason. I smiled at Jaden, and you turned into Lucious Lyon.”

“Nah,see, you tryna twist it,” he said, pointing a finger like you were a witness on the stand. “It wasn’t some lil ass smile Y/N. It was the lil’ laugh. That ‘I’m-so-fucking-cute-and-I-know-it’ giggle you only pull out when you want attention.”

“Oh, so now I’m flirting?” you barked. “I laughed at a joke, Ant. That’s it. I laughed at my friend—someone I’ve known longer than I’ve even tolerated your ass.”

Anthony’s jaw flexed so hard you could hear the tension click. “Oh shut that shit up.”

“Don’t do that.” You threw your hands up. “Don’t start talkin’ to me like I’m one of your hoes.”

“You don’t even act like my girl sometimes!” he exploded. “You act like you just waitin’ on me to fuck up so you can fall into the next tall nigga arms!”

“You always fuck up, Anthony! You made our whole ass dinner awkward 'cause your ego couldn’t handle me getting five seconds of attention from someone not you.”

His chest rose. “He was lookin’ at you like he wanted to take you home.”

“I’m already home!” you screamed. “I’m HERE! I sleep in your bed, I do your damn laundry, I fold your hoodies in color order, I ride for you harder than anybody else in this world— and you out here actin’ like I’m just waitin’ to be picked up by Jaden fuckin’ McDaniels?”

“It’s not even that—i’m sittin’ there tryna eat some damn steak after bustin’ my ass in Game 6, and you over there smiling in his face like y’all got a lil’ inside joke.” he grumbled, looking away.

“Nah I know what it really is,” You crossed your arms, voice dropping. “You don’t trust me. And I don’t even think it’s about me. I think it’s about you. You can’t handle the idea of someone else wanting what you neglect.”

“Oh now I’m neglectin’ you?” he snapped. “I ain’t just take you to dinner? I ain’t just get blasted on twitter last night and still smile for you? What the fuck do you want from me, Y/N? I’m not Jaden, I don’t got time to be all soft and whispery in your ear. I’m me. You knew who I was when you got here.”

“Well, I thought I was signing up for a man, not a boy with abandonment issues and an undeserved god complex!” you shot back.

That one hit. You saw it. His eyes shifted, fast— not hurt, but challenged.

He pointed again, but slower this time. “Don’t talk to me like I’m just not shit. You think cause you got a degree and a couple therapy sessions under your belt, you better than me?”

“Oh my God, here we go. Did you forget you also went to college or?—“

“No, go ahead. Say it. Say you’d rather be with someone quieter, sweeter, less fuckin’—what? Less of a real nigga?”

“I want to be with someone who doesn't treat me like their emotional punching bag every time they feel small next to another man.”

He laughed, loud and ugly. “Cool. Then go be with him. Go let Jaden cook you his lil’ vegan pasta or whatever the fuck he do. He’ll listen to your real housewives rants and make playlists with you. Y’all can go match beanies or whatever lame shit you like now”

You stared at him.

He stared right back.

A long silence. Then—

“Is that what this is really about?” you asked, voice deceptively calm. “You don’t think you’re enough for me?.”

“Girl i’m more than enough,” he said immediately. “That’s why I’m pissed. ‘Cause I shouldn’t have to compete with anybody when it comes to you. You mine.”

You took a step back. “Don’t say that like it’s romantic. I’m not some kind of posession.”

“You not. But you with me. And when you with me, I don’t expect to feel like a background character while some other nigga try to undress you with his eyes.”

“I didn’t even notice,” you said quietly.

“Well I did,” he growled.

Silence again.

He walked closer, breathing heavier now, eyes all over your face. “You got no idea what it feels like to watch another man look at you like that. Like you his or some shit.”

You swallowed. “I’m not.”

“I know. But it felt like it.”

You broke a little, right then. Just in the corner of your eyes. Your voice cracked. “That’s your insecurity talkin’. And I can’t keep arguing every time we walk into a room full of people who think I’m pretty.”

“I don’t care if they think you pretty,” he said, voice low, coming closer still. “I care when I think you believe ‘em more than you believe me.”

You looked up at him. He was way too close now. Close enough that his breath was brushing your lip.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” you whispered.

“I know.”

“You embarrassed me.”

He nodded. “I know.”

“You got one more time to play in my face like I’m just some trophy wife you can run. I’m not one of your yes-women, Ant. I’m me. I’m the same “bad bitch”, you purposely went for and if you can’t handle that—“

“I can handle it,” he cut in. “I just hate the idea of losin’ you.”

“You’re gonna lose me faster if you keep actin’ like this,”

He didn’t say anything.

But his hand found your hip. His eyes didn’t leave yours.

“You mad at me?”

You didn’t move.

“You done yelling?”

Still no answer.

You blinked.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, reaching for your waist. “For actin’ so jealous. For ruining your night over some shit I made up in my head. For forgettin’ how lucky I am.”

“…Don’t think saying that gets you back in my pants.”

“I wasn’t tryna be smooth,” he said, kissing your jaw. “I’m tryna be real.”

You didn’t stop him when his hands touched your hips again, just stared.

He lowered his voice. “You look too good like this, mama. I’m tryna behave but you makin’ it real hard.”

“I’m not in the mood…”

“I know. I’m just...remindin’ you how much I love you.”

You bit your lip. “Here we go, you tryna fix shit with dick again”

“I’m tryna fix it with love,” he said, cocky grin twitching at the corners. “But if you want the other part too...I mean, I’m down.”

Your eyes narrowed, but the tension was still strong.

“I hope you know you sleeping on the couch,” you whispered.

“I doubt that shit gon last long, you gon come to the living room by 3” he murmured against your neck.

You tried to suppress the way your thighs clenched.