Jannik read a few pregnancy books so that he could help you as much as possible and he has some tricks up his sleeve
Note: english is not my first language. There was this commercial that I always got all gooey inside and there is some scientific explanation behind it from what I remember reading so I'm basing this on it and taking it as a thing (imagine me asking this in a very serious specialisation class)
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
When you and Jannik welcomed Francesca into the world, it had been such a blissful moment that you wanted to keep it in a little pot so you could carry it with you everyday for the rest of your life. Jannik had been nothing but supportive all throughout, making sure you got enough rest and doing the chores around the house, scrunching his nose when someone commented how kind and helpful he was being and replying "I'm her father, she is my daughter too and I am behaving like the parent that I am".
But unfortunately there were things he couldn't do for you, breastfeeding being one of them. Sure, he could just feed her from the bottle but that implied that you'd have to pump beforehand and it was something you had to think in advance, hence the whole situation needing a bit of time for you to settle it into your routine, "these things always make the weirdest noises, I swear", you pointed to the pumps attached to your nipples, collecting the rest of the milk so you could have it for times in the future where you couldn't feed your little girl straight from the boob.
Jannik chuckled, one of his arms holding his daughter while they went to the kitchen to refill your water bottle, "thank you, amore", you said as he sat next to you, you two admiring how the baby slept soundly in her papa's chest.
"Do they still hurt?", Jannik asked.
Breastfeeding was a whole experience in itself, starting with the chafed skin from the constant suckling and the pains that came with it, especially the night your milk came in. You'd never felt pain like it before, waking up in the middle of the night to change and feed Francesca when Jannik pointed out that you felt way too warm, your body temperature rising to accommodate the milk that had come into your boobs that were engorged and rock hard, making any movement painful for you.
Jannik had changed the baby and carefully helped you into a sitting position, placing the little princess by your arms so you could feed her, remembering how the book he had read recommended to feed and/or extract the milk. He was there, your back against his naked chest while he ran his fingers along your arm, whispering words of encouragement like 'you're a superwoman, you can do anything', 'you're amazing, amore', 'just a little bit more and she will be full, and then I'll take care of you' in the middle of all the kisses he pressed on your shoulder, noticing how Francesca was calming down after you burped her while your husband looked at the instructions on the pump he was setting up to help drain your boobs.
It was one of the first intense nights filled with tears on your part and Jannik showing you how much of a good partner he was, your love for eachother intensifying like you never thought it could.
"Not so much now, I think I'm used to it by now. And the skin has healed with the cream we got from the midwife", you said, pointing to the lanolin cream you applied throughout the day to help the sensitive skin get better.
"Can I put it on?", Jannik asked cheekily once he was able to get Francesca down on the bassinet next to you on the bed so you could have easier access to her.
Chuckling at his boyish request, you grabbed his hand when he sat in front of you, "I always let you do it, why wouldn't I let you now?", you smiled as you checked that there was no more milk to be expressed, switching off the pump and taking your time to carefully fill the bags so you could freeze them for later.
"I don't know. It's your body, and although I like showing you how much I appreciate it, there's the possibility that you don't want me to, or that I might hurt you and I don't want that", he said as your heart fluttered, his sensible and loving side never failing to come up.
Jannik made it his mission to make sure you felt no rush in getting back to what you looked like before pregnancy, ensuring you that he welcomed every change on the body that generated your princess and showing every bit of gratefulness for it and for you everytime he could.
Checking the seal in the bags, you put them in the usual place for the night in case you needed them before grabbing the pot of cream, "Like I'd ever say no to you, Jan", you smiled as you offered it to him.
.
Francesca had a tough day today, not settling anywhere but your chest after you and Jannik had taken her to get her vaccines, "it's alright, piccolina, mama is here", Jannik heard you say from the living room when you had put Francesca down so you could use the toilet, enjoying how cuddly she was as her hand grabbed your top in a fist.
"It's okay, it means it's working", Jannik said coming to your side after putting the tray in the oven to finish cooking, explaining to the little girl who looked at him in endearment before her eyes started getting droopy again. Putting his hand on her neck, Jannik sighed in relief, "at least she is not feverish, it's probably just crankyness. Aren't you, little princess? The doctor prickled you thigh and you did not like it one bit", he said as he watched the sad smile on your face as your hand ran over the soft ginger curls on your daughter's head, pressing little kisses on there too.
After you had dinner, Jannik suggested you to go and have a relaxing shower whilst himself and Francesca had a papa and daughter talk, bringing her to his trophy room, "and this one I won Wimbledon for the first time, it was a really great day. Mama was there, nonna Siglinde was there too and we all celebrated, and this one here", he grabbed one of the junior medals, "was the one I got when I knew your mama and I were going to be together forever, I did not win the match - lost quite terribly really -, but she was there, standing proud like I had just won it", he kissed her head, smelling her scent in delight, "mama loves us both so much, you'll see in time that she is very stubborn but that also means that she loves extra hard too", he said as he walked around a little bit more, the baby starting to get fussier as he walked into the bedroom, ready to grab a bottle and heating it up so he could feed her while you finished in the bathroom.
You had put on your pyjamas and had just finished blowdrying your hair a bit so it wouldn't soak your pillow case, opening the door to see Jannik bouncing Francesca around the room in hopes she would fall asleep, "it's going to be a tough night, isn't it?", you soflty asked, not wanting to disturb them too much.
Jannik looked at you and smiled soflty, "I think I've got it", he whispered back as he waited for Francesca to succumb to deep sleep before he could put her in her bassinet. Once he had done that, Jannik grabbed the doctor approved body lotion you would sometimes use on your skin, asking you to lower the straps of your sleeping dress so he could massage it into your skin, taking the time to make some light conversation as you hummed at the feeling of his hands on your skin.
You weren't wrong when you predicted the night would be tough, Francesca waking up nearly every hour and taking a lot longer than usual to fall asleep. You and Jannik wanted to take turns but ended up staying awake for eachother's turns so you could help as much as possible, and when morning came around, the only way Francesca seemed to relax was if you were walking around the house with her latched on your torso.
"The only way that I am not cursing right now is because one day she'll be a big girl and I'll miss these cuddles", you said honestly as Jannik followed you around in sympathy before an idea popped in his head.
"I'll be right back", he said as he headed upstairs.
"Your papa, you'll learn, has many of these moments where he gets an idea and then just vanishes, it needs some getting used to but we love him all the same, even if he seems a little like a crazy person", you said as you chuckled.
In your room, Jannik smelled every body cream you had before finally finding the one that you had applied the previous day, the strong scent leading him as he grabbed the pot and went back downstairs, seeing you in your umpteenth lap of the living room as he started rubbing the cream on his chest before he stretched his arms, your skeptical expression not going unnoticed at his attempt of getting your daughter to settle in his chest, Francesca shuffling slightly before she settled in, her hand grabbing the open shirt your husband was wearing before she released a sigh, happy and content in her papa's cuddle while Jannik kissed the top of her head.
Astounded by the moment, Jannik decided to rub it in, "I remember reading about it, how they recognise the scent so they feel comfortable, and while I get some snuggles it helps mama get some free arms time, too", he winked at you and all you could do was press a kiss to both of their cheeks, excited at the prospect of having two hands available to eat your breakfast and drink your much needed coffee.
Summary- Your an aspiring actress who is hiding a secret illness, he's tennis's number one! How could PR relationship possibly go wrong??
words- 3.3k
Notes- A lovely anom requested a PR relationship imagine, so i hope you enjoy! This does touch slightly on epilepsy so please read with caution...
You stare at your manager, Elena, certain you've misheard her. "I'm sorry, what?"
"A PR relationship," she repeats, sliding a glossy folder across the mahogany table. "With Carlos Alcaraz. The tennis player."
Your stomach drops. You know exactly who Carlos Alcaraz is—the golden boy of tennis, with his megawatt smile plastered across every sports magazine and billboard from Madrid to Miami. And that's precisely the problem.
"Elena, I'm an actress. A nobody actress who's had exactly three speaking roles in indie films no one's seen. Why would someone like him need—"
"You're not a nobody anymore." Elena's perfectly manicured finger taps the folder. "That Netflix series you just wrapped? They're predicting it's going to be huge. You're about to become very visible, very quickly. And Carlos's team wants to soften his image, make him more relatable to a broader audience. Sports fans are loyal, but they want him to cross over into mainstream celebrity. Dating a rising actress? Perfect narrative."
The word "dating" makes your skin crawl. You've spent your entire career—short as it's been—trying to let your work speak for itself. You're shy by nature, the kind of person who breaks into a cold sweat at premieres and award shows. The thought of fabricating a relationship, of having to hold hands and smile for cameras, of lying to the entire world...
"I can't do this," you whisper.
"You signed a contract," Elena reminds you gently but firmly. "The studio has approval over your public image for the next eighteen months. They think this is good for you. Good for the show."
You want to scream. You want to flip the table. Instead, you do what you always do—you swallow your anger, let it burn quietly in your chest, and nod.
The first meeting is arranged at a private restaurant in Beverly Hills, the kind of place where celebrities go to be seen while pretending they don't want to be seen. You arrive fifteen minutes early because you're always early, your anxiety making punctuality a survival mechanism.
Carlos arrives exactly on time.
He's taller than you expected, broader through the shoulders, with that same easy smile you've seen in countless interviews. He's wearing a simple white t-shirt and jeans, somehow making casual look effortless in a way you never could.
"You must be the lucky girl," he says in accented English, extending his hand.
The condescension in his tone—intentional or not—makes your jaw tighten. "And you must be the tennis player who needs an actress to make him interesting."
His smile falters for just a second. Good.
You shake his hand briefly, then pull away, sliding into the booth. This is going to be a disaster.
The first month is excruciating.
You're contractually obligated to be seen together at least twice a week. Coffee dates in West Hollywood where paparazzi just happen to be waiting. Walks along the beach in Malibu where photographers lurk in the dunes. A courtside appearance at one of his matches where you have to wear his spare shirt and smile like you understand tennis.
You don't understand tennis. You don't understand Carlos.
He's always performing, always "on." Every interaction feels calculated, from the way he holds your hand (firm enough to look real, loose enough to drop quickly when the cameras disappear) to the way he laughs at things that aren't funny. You catch him checking his phone during dinner, probably reading what people are saying about you online.
"This is so fake," you mutter one evening as you leave a restaurant, his arm around your waist for the cameras.
"That's literally the point," he replies once you're in the car, his arm immediately dropping. "Why are you making this so difficult?"
"Because I didn't want this!" The words burst out before you can stop them. "I wanted to be known for my work, not for who I'm pretending to date!"
"You think I wanted this?" His eyes flash. "You think I need this? I'm number one in the world. I sell out stadiums. My team thought this would be good for my brand, but honestly? You're making it miserable."
The words sting more than they should. You turn away, blinking back tears you refuse to let him see.
The rest of the ride passes in silence.
The shift begins so gradually you almost don't notice it.
It's week six, and you're at his place in Alicante—a "romantic getaway" that's really just more content for the tabloids. You're sitting on his terrace, watching the sunset over the Mediterranean, both of you scrolling through your phones in silence.
"Do you actually like acting?" he asks suddenly.
You look up, surprised. It's the first personal question he's asked that wasn't scripted by your teams.
"Yes," you say carefully. "It's the only thing I've ever been good at. I was so shy as a kid I could barely speak in class, but put me in a play, give me someone else's words, someone else's life? I could do that."
He nods slowly, setting his phone down. "I understand that. Tennis is... it's the only place I feel completely myself. Like everything makes sense."
It's the first real thing he's said to you. The first glimpse beneath the performance.
"Why did you agree to this?" you ask. "Really?"
He's quiet for a long moment. "My team said it would help me connect with people outside of sports. But honestly? I think I was lonely. I thought maybe having someone around, even if it was fake, would be better than going to events alone." He laughs, but it sounds hollow. "Stupid, right?"
"No," you say softly. "Not stupid."
Something shifts between you. Not much, but enough.
The next few weeks are different.
You still do the scheduled appearances, still hold hands for the cameras, but the spaces in between become less hostile. He starts asking about your auditions, actually listening when you talk about the craft of acting. You start watching his matches, beginning to understand the strategy and athleticism involved.
One evening, you're at his place again—it's become easier to meet there, away from LA's constant scrutiny—and he's teaching you to play tennis on his private court.
"No, no, you're holding the racket all wrong," he laughs, coming up behind you. His hands cover yours, adjusting your grip. "Like this. Firm but flexible."
You're acutely aware of his chest against your back, his breath warm on your neck. When did his touch start feeling less like an obligation and more like something you don't want to end?
"Now swing," he murmurs.
You do, and the ball actually goes over the net. You spin around in excitement, finding his face inches from yours. His eyes drop to your lips for just a second before he steps back.
"Good," he says, his voice slightly rough. "That was good."
Your heart is racing, and it has nothing to do with the exercise.
It happens at a charity gala in Monaco.
You're wearing a dress your stylist chose, something elegant and understated that makes you feel almost beautiful. Carlos hasn't stopped looking at you all evening, and not in the performative way he did those first weeks. This is different. Heated. Real.
You're on the balcony, escaping the crowd inside, when he finds you.
"You okay?" he asks, joining you at the railing.
"Just needed air. Too many people."
He nods, understanding. He's learned your tells over these months—the way you fidget with your bracelet when you're anxious, how you need quiet spaces to recharge.
"You look beautiful tonight," he says quietly. "I know I'm supposed to say that for the cameras, but there are no cameras here. And you look beautiful."
Your breath catches. "Carlos..."
"I know this was supposed to be fake," he continues, turning to face you fully. "I know we're supposed to be pretending. But I'm not pretending anymore. I don't think I have been for weeks."
Your heart is thundering in your chest. "I don't know how to do this," you whisper. "I don't know how to tell what's real and what's for show anymore."
He reaches out, cupping your face gently. "This is real. What I feel when you laugh at my terrible jokes? Real. The way I look for you in the crowd at my matches now, because playing better when you're watching? Real. The fact that I can't stop thinking about you, even when we're not scheduled to see each other? So fucking real."
He kisses you then, soft and questioning, and you kiss him back with months of confusion and frustration and unexpected feeling pouring out of you. This isn't for cameras. This isn't for contracts. This is just you and him, and it's terrifying and perfect.
When you finally pull apart, you're both breathless.
"What do we do now?" you ask.
"I don't know," he admits, laughing softly. "I've never fallen in love during a fake relationship before."
Love. The word should scare you. Instead, it feels right.
"Me neither," you whisper, and kiss him again.
You don't tell anyone at first.
The relationship is still "PR" on paper, but everything between you has changed. The hand-holding isn't for show anymore. The way he pulls you close at events is because he wants you near. The photos of you laughing together are real moments, captured and sold, but real nonetheless.
You still haven't told him about the epilepsy.
It's been controlled for years with medication, your seizures rare and usually triggered only by extreme stress or strobing lights. You've been careful, so careful, to avoid triggers. Your team knows, the production insurance knows, but you've kept it private otherwise. The thought of telling Carlos, of seeing pity or fear in his eyes, makes you want to hide.
But you know you need to tell him. Especially now that this is real.
You plan to do it one quiet evening at your place. You've rehearsed the words a dozen times, trying to find the right way to explain without making it seem like a bigger deal than it is.
But life, as it tends to do, has other plans.
You're in New York for fashion week—another obligation, another appearance. Carlos has a break in his tournament schedule and flew in to surprise you. The gesture made your heart swell; the old Carlos would never have done something so spontaneous, so romantic.
You're walking through SoHo after dinner, his hand warm in yours, talking about everything and nothing. You're happy. Genuinely, surprisingly happy.
Then you turn a corner, and they're there.
Paparazzi. At least a dozen of them, maybe more. They must have been tipped off about your location.
The flashes start immediately, a strobe-light effect of white bursts that hit you like physical blows. You freeze, your hand tightening on Carlos's.
"Smile, baby!" one of them shouts.
"Carlos, is it true you're moving to LA for her?"
"Are you two engaged?"
More flashes. Faster now, overlapping, a disorienting cascade of light and sound.
You feel it starting—the aura, the strange sensation that precedes a seizure. Your vision starts to fragment at the edges.
"Carlos," you manage, your voice tight with panic. "The lights—"
He doesn't understand at first. "It's okay, we'll just—"
"No, the lights, I need—" Your words are slurring now. You can feel yourself starting to disconnect.
And then his arm is around you, solid and sure, and he's shouting.
"STOP! STOP THE FUCKING CAMERAS!"
His voice is so loud, so commanding, that some of them actually pause.
"Turn off the flashes! NOW!" He's pulling you against his chest, one hand cradling your head, trying to shield you. "The lights are triggering seizures! Turn them the fuck off!"
Some comply immediately. Others keep shooting, because of course they do—this is the story now, the drama they've been waiting for.
Carlos turns his back to them, curling his body around yours, making himself a human shield. "I've got you," he murmurs against your hair. "I've got you, mi amor. Just breathe. Focus on my voice."
You're shaking, teetering on the edge, but his voice anchors you. His heartbeat against your cheek, steady and strong. The warmth of his arms.
"Someone call a fucking ambulance!" he shouts over his shoulder. Then, softer, just for you: "Stay with me. Please stay with me."
The aura begins to recede slowly, agonizingly. You're not going to seize—not this time. But it was close. So close.
"I'm okay," you finally whisper. "I'm okay."
He doesn't let go. If anything, he holds you tighter.
Security arrives—his team, alerted by the commotion. They push the photographers back, creating a barrier. Carlos lifts you easily, carrying you to the waiting car despite your weak protests that you can walk.
He doesn't speak during the ride to your hotel, just holds you against him, his jaw tight with residual anger and fear.
In your hotel room, he finally sets you down on the bed, then immediately kneels in front of you, taking your hands.
"Why didn't you tell me?" His voice cracks. "Why didn't you tell me you have epilepsy?"
"I was going to," you say, tears finally spilling over. "I was planning to tell you. I just... I didn't want you to see me differently. Didn't want you to treat me like I'm fragile."
"Fragile?" He laughs, but there's no humor in it. "You're the strongest person I know. You think having epilepsy makes you weak? You think I would think that?"
"I don't know! We've only been really together for a few weeks, and I didn't know how you'd react, and I was scared—"
He kisses you, cutting off your rambling. It's desperate and fierce and tastes like salt from both your tears.
"I love you," he says when he pulls back. "I love you, and nothing about your health changes that. But I need you to tell me these things. I need to know how to keep you safe."
"The flashing lights are the main trigger," you explain, wiping your eyes. "Stress, lack of sleep, but mostly strobing lights. I take medication daily. I haven't had a full seizure in three years."
He nods, absorbing this. "Okay. Okay. So no more paparazzi ambushes. We'll have security scout ahead. And I'll carry your medication with me, just in case. What else? What else do I need to know?"
The fact that he's asking, that he wants to understand rather than run, makes you fall even more in love with him.
You spend the next hour talking about it—really talking. You explain your diagnosis, your treatment plan, your fears. He listens to everything, asking questions, holding your hand the entire time.
"I'm sorry I shouted at the photographers," he says eventually. "I know you like to keep things private."
"Are you kidding? That was the hottest thing anyone's ever done for me." You laugh, and it feels good. "My hero, yelling at paparazzi."
He grins, some of the tension finally leaving his shoulders. "I would do anything for you. Yell at photographers, fight off bears, learn to act in one of your indie films—"
"Let's not get crazy."
He laughs, pulling you into his arms. You curl against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, feeling safe in a way you haven't in years.
"This is going to be all over the internet by morning," you murmur.
"I don't care. Let them write whatever they want. The only story that matters is ours."
You tilt your head up to look at him. "And what's our story?"
"Two people who were supposed to be pretending," he says softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Who accidentally fell in love for real. Who are going to figure this out together, one day at a time."
"I like that story."
"Me too." He kisses your forehead, then your nose, then your lips. "Me too."
The next morning, you wake up to your phone exploding with notifications.
The photos are everywhere—Carlos shouting at the paparazzi, his body curved protectively around yours. The headlines range from sympathetic ("Carlos Alcaraz Protects Girlfriend During Medical Emergency") to exploitative ("Tennis Star's Girlfriend's Secret Health Battle Revealed").
You're reading through them, anxiety building, when Carlos emerges from the bathroom, hair damp from the shower.
"Stop looking at those," he says, plucking the phone from your hands.
"They're saying—"
"I don't care what they're saying. How are you feeling? Any residual effects from last night?"
The fact that his first concern is your health, not the PR nightmare, makes your chest tight with emotion.
"I'm okay. A little tired, but okay."
He nods, sitting beside you on the bed. "I talked to my team this morning. And yours. We're releasing a joint statement."
"Carlos, you don't have to—"
"It says that you have epilepsy, that it's well-managed, and that we're asking for privacy and for photographers to be mindful of using flash photography around you. It also says that anyone who doesn't comply will be dealing with my lawyers."
You stare at him. "You're really going to war with the paparazzi for me?"
"I'm really going to war with anyone who puts you at risk." He takes your hand. "I know you wanted to keep this private. But it's out now, and we can either let them control the narrative or we can be honest. Your choice."
You think about it. About spending years hiding, managing your condition in secret, always afraid of being exposed. And then you think about Carlos last night, shouting at the cameras, choosing your safety over optics.
"Okay," you say. "Let's release the statement."
He kisses you softly. "Okay."
The response is overwhelming.
For every cruel comment, there are dozens of supportive ones. People sharing their own experiences with epilepsy. Fans praising Carlos for his protectiveness. Photographers' associations actually issuing guidelines about flash photography around you.
Your Netflix series premieres two weeks later, and it is, as Elena predicted, huge. But the interviews aren't just about the show—they're about your epilepsy, about raising awareness, about your relationship with Carlos.
You're nervous before your first talk show appearance, but Carlos flies in to be in the audience. You can see him in the front row, giving you a thumbs up, and it steadies you.
"So," the host says with a warm smile, "you and Carlos Alcaraz. That's quite a love story."
You laugh. "It really is. We were set up by our teams, actually. A PR relationship."
The audience gasps, delighted by the gossip.
"But somewhere along the way," you continue, finding Carlos's eyes in the crowd, "it stopped being PR and started being real. He's the best thing that's ever happened to me."
The audience awws. Carlos is grinning, looking slightly embarrassed but pleased.
"And he's been incredibly supportive about your epilepsy," the host prompts gently.
"He has. He's been amazing. The night the paparazzi incident happened, he didn't hesitate. He just... protected me. And he's been educating himself, making sure he knows how to help if I ever have a seizure. It means everything."
After the show, Carlos meets you backstage, pulling you into a tight hug.
"You were perfect," he murmurs into your hair.
"I was terrified."
"Couldn't tell." He pulls back to look at you. "I'm so proud of you."
Can I request Carlos x Reader meetcute at the US Open?
Just some ideas below now that it’s hard court season lol but feel free to add your creativity/own prompt :)
Reader is sat next to him when he’s a spectator for a women’s match
They meet during his practice session and his coach is his wingman
Reader and Carlos randomly meet while out in New York City (maybe reader is his tour guide at the Met Museum or he asks to pet reader’s dog in Central Park and they go on a walk together)
Sports journalist!reader who gets to know Carlos more behind the scenes
Non-tennis fan!reader takes her younger sibling to pre-tournament exhibition/kid’s day event and learns to enjoy tennis after meeting Carlos
Reader is a New York City local who takes Carlos on a tour of the city late at night so the paparazzi/fans won’t swarm him
Reader is friends with the other tennis players/tennis WAGs and the friend plays matchmaker with reader and Carlos
Famous!reader is sent by manager to attend the US Open as Carlos’s PR girlfriend, but they learn that they actually get along
Carlos searches for reader after seeing her on the jumbotron/coverage of the match
Smile for the camera
being a pr girlfriend is easy, follow one rule: don't fall for him, or so you thought.
wc: 1.3k
"Go on, put the cup near your face for the picture. It will look pinterest-y, you know."
You roll your eyes as your influencer collab aka best friend Nicole positions the camera for a picture.
"Nicole, come on. Enough of solo pics I'm tired."
"You are in the US Open Finals for god sake, moreover in his box, take the full advantage of it. girl"
his, Carlos Alcaraz. Your PR boyfriend.
Weird how life works really.
You were a fashion influencer with decent amount of followers, few brand deals here and there to bring in money. But just a simple campaign for sunscreen with the Carlos Alcaraz changed your life.
The internet went crazy with so called "chemistry" between you two. With the way how he looked at you, with the way you laughed at his jokes during shooting, the way you looked so good together.
You got a popularity boost, and he got even more famous (if that was even possible).
And that's how you ended up with a "relationship" with Carlos Alcaraz.
You get amazing brand deals, he gets more spotlight and free from the whole dating speculation in the tennis world. Win-Win situation.
Until when it isn't.
When he is a complete robot on text, quite emotionless. He is not rude, per se, just very......distant. Like he wants nothing to do with you.
You both have met shortly after that shoot, before he was engulfed by the tennis season.
"So, girlfriend eh?" Carlos says, voice being sarcastically sweet, on purpose obviously. Just because he can, and it also happens to annoy you.
"PR girlfriend."
"Not hard to remember at all." His hand takes the drink, sipping on it before he talks again.
"Let's make a deal."
"We already have." You snap back, earning a bitter chuckle from him.
"One rule, no falling for each other." He says, head tilted, looking at you with a cocky smile
"Easy to follow, since you love being an asshole."
"I don't need to like you or anything. Just business." He says, his eyes never meeting yours.
It hurt, a little.The bluntness in his voice.
Given all the small snaps taken presented the "love" he had in his eyes, the way he looked at you. But as the curtains drew, he drew back to his usual self. Just trying to observe you, eyes holding little to no emotion. While still remembering your coffee order, or your shoot timings. He way he looks at you, almost piercing through your mind, as if trying to invade your thoughts.
And that he did.
The days turned into weeks, the paparazzis going crazy with the pictures. Articles including a blurry picture of you walking along with him, or Carlos laughing so hard at your jokes, everything seemed so picture perfect. Sometimes it felt like you are talking to two different people, one who cared about how your hair looked, fixing it quickly, or how your ice cream choice is peculiar. Other being less smiley, just updating you once in a while, not sharing much.
That was 4 weeks ago, and now, this is the first public appearance you have made on a tennis court, in his box. Watching him play in the US Open.
Warm up matches on the court was.....different. You could feel his gaze frequently deflecting towards you, lingering gazes between you both. How his lips curved up a bit more while talking to you, even when no one is looking. How his arms almost touched your back while guiding you to the practice court. The air between you both have shifted, more comfortable, a little heart racing at times.
You watched the beginning rounds from your room, both of your PR managers deciding on making you attend his more important matches.
Seeing his pure passion for the sport stirs something in your heart. The fire in his eyes, the hunger to win evident in his shots, his roar, it showed how much he cared.
And that might have made you fall in love with him.
Might.
Which brings you here tonight, at the US Open Men's singles final. Carlos Alcaraz v/s Jannik Sinner.
In Carlos Alcaraz's box, alongside his team.
His brother meets your eyes, giving a small smile. You return it, feeling silly at how Nicole is making you pose.
The warmup starts, seeing both of them relax a bit before the gruel match. You see Carlos look up, pumping his fist in the air towards his brother and team. His eyes travel further and halt. Just a beat longer as he meets yours, feeling heat travel to your face. You give him an encouraging smile, mouthing 'All the best'. He smiles back, keeping his eyes on you till he walks towards the ball kids.
"Someone might be falling in love." Nicole nudges you, chuckling at your flustered face.
"Stop it." You say, without dropping the smile.
The match goes on, both of them pushing one other to their limits. The points, dropshots, smashes had you at the edge of the seat.
During breaks, you could see how he needed to seek reassurance from his team, nodding at the words he could makeout, stealing glances at you, while you were talking to Nicole, or seeing your phone. He felt grounded, even happier, having you in his box.
Championship point. Alcaraz serving for the match.
The ball bounces, once, twice.
He serves a wide ace, which Jannik is unable to return.
Your breath hitches. The crowd erupts into cheers.
Carlos Alcaraz, 2025 US Open champion.
You stand up, clapping as loudly as possible. Seeing him this happy pulls your heart strings. He shakes hands with Jannik over the net, rushing over to the box next. He hugs his brother and physio, the sound of joy and laughter filling up the box.
You didn't expect him to hug you at all. You didn't expect him to almost cry into your arms. You didn't expect him to whisper into your ear.
But he did, his smile never fading, not when he whispered how glad he was that you showed up. Not for the camera, not for anybody. His voice filled with sincerity, this moment only for both of you to know.
His forehead pressed against yours, his ragged breath that knocked the air out of your lungs.
"I'll meet you later, dinner." He manages to say, looking at you.
"Yeah. Sure." You couldn't help but notice his smile getting a little wider.
With a slight pat on your arm, he leaves, running to the court for the prize ceremony.
His hands were slightly trebling, carrying the trophy as Carlos approaches the mic.
"I want to congratulate Jannik and his team, for the effort they have put throughout the season, and for playing an amazing final here. It is always a pleasure sharing the court with you.
I would also like to thank my team, for the efforts they have made to make me better, and for my brother to come along with me and support me."
He takes in a breath, now looking directly at you. You could feel your heartbeat, loud, in your ear.
"I also want to thank my girlfriend, whose presence made me play better, gave me motivation to push myself."
His boyish grin flashed onto the large screen, as the crowd erupted in laughter and cheers.
Girlfriend.
The tone, the voice, his gaze. Too sincere, felt too real to be "pretending".
Too caring to not fall for.
You feel your cheeks heat up, as you continue clapping for him.
" You're blushing, so adorable." You hear Nicole teasing you, nudging you with her shoulder.
"Oh shut up."
"Oh you are so in l o v e baby." She laughs, as you roll your eyes.
Maybe you were.
Maybe.
________________
hey anon!
first of all, so sorry to post your amazing request this late :(
hope you liked it <3 (i really pray it comes to your feed)
i had been swamped with work but now i can surely be a little more consistent.
second, might i say, this is one of my fav requests, so detailed and i just love everything about it, and will definitely be coming back to get fic ideas hehe.
and also, thank you so much for 300+ followers! im so thrilled and grateful that yall like my fics <3 love yall
When Jannik comes through the door every day, he doesn't know which version of his pregnant wife he is getting, but he loves all of them equally
Note: english is not my first language. I don't usually write a lot of smut because I don't think I'm that good, but once in a while I can throw some spice there!
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
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Cw: reader is pregnant, pregnancy sex, pregnancy hormonal and body changes
It started with silence.
You’d been quiet all morning - not the peaceful kind, but the heavy kind. The kind that made the air feel too still, as if even the apartment had noticed.
You moved slowly through the kitchen, one hand resting on your rounded bump, the other tracing the edge of the counter as you stared at nothing in particular.
Jannik watched you from the doorway, his hair still damp from his shower, towel slung around his neck. His eyes softened immediately.
He’d seen that look before - far too many times in the last few weeks.
The weight of hormones, exhaustion, fear, excitement - all crashing together into something that sometimes looked like distance.
“Good morning, amore mio", he tried softly, stepping forward.
No answer. Just a faint hum as you kept your gaze on the floor.
He moved closer, the wooden floor creaking beneath his feet, "did you sleep okay?”
Another shrug. Still no eye contact.
He sighed quietly, not in frustration, but in worry. He came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin gently on your shoulder.
You stiffened at first - body rigid - but then you leaned back, almost against your will, into his warmth.
“I don’t like when you go quiet like this", he murmured against your ear, "feels like you’re far away from me".
That cracked something in you.
The tears didn’t come yet, but your lip trembled just a little.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me”, you whispered, "one second I’m fine, and then I just… feel empty. Like I want to be alone".
He pressed a kiss to your temple, "you don’t have to explain - yu’re growing a whole person, amore. It’s okay to have days like this".
He gently turned you around, his hands on either side of your face, "just… let me be here with you, yeah? Even if I'm quiet, let me be with you”.
You nodded, tears finally welling up - not from sadness exactly, but from the relief of being understood.
A few hours later, the coldness had melted into something softer. You found yourself clinging to him on the couch, tucked into his side with your head on his chest. His fingers brushed lazy circles against your arm, the TV murmuring quietly in the background.
“I’m sorry for being weird this morning", you mumbled into his shirt.
“Silly woman", he teased softly, chuckling, “you don’t need to apologize for having feelings".
You laughed through your nose, a small sound, "you’re too good to me".
“I’m just good for you", he corrected gently, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
Later came the hunger. It hit fast and unapologetically - one minute you were fine, the next you were on the verge of tears because there were no strawberries left.
Jannik blinked at you, wide-eyed, before quickly grabbing his keys, "don’t move,” he said, trying not to laugh "five minutes, I promise, that's all I need”.
He came back fifteen minutes later - hair windswept, cheeks flushed, holding not only strawberries but also a bar of chocolate and a bottle of sparkling water.
The sight made you giggle, and that giggle turned into a soft kiss on his cheek as he handed them to you.
“You’re my hero", you said between bites.
He grinned, "I’ll take that title, grazie".
The evening brought another shift - restlessness, neediness. You didn’t even have words for it. Just an ache to be close to him, to feel him near.
He was sitting on the bed, reading, when you climbed in and quietly leaned your head against his shoulder.
Without a word, he closed the book and wrapped his arms around you, fingers tracing up and down your back.
“You okay?” he murmured.
You nodded. “Just… need you close".
“Always", he said softly.
And so you stayed like that - no words, no explanations - just steady heartbeats, his hand finding yours over the curve of your belly, both of you breathing in sync.
"Jan?", you mused.
"Si?", he replied, kissing your shoulder.
"I want you closer, need you closer", you mumbled.
"I'm not sure I can get closer to you, amore", Jannik chuckled lightly before he felt your hands roam under his t-shirt.
"It's not like that", you whispered, kissing his neck softly to hopefully get his mood to match yours.
Intimacy had shifted like you had expected it to - for the first few months of your pregnancy, you struggled with sickness and exhaustion, saving your energy for work and laying down and sleeping all day at every chance you got. When the first noticeable changes happened, you needed some adjustment and getting used to see yourself as your body accommodated to help your baby grow. Now, and with your husband's loving and patient attention, you were needy for him.
"Are you sure, amore?", he asked.
"Yes", you hummed, "you looked extra handsome today when you got home from your haircut, and you take such good care of me", you smiled before stopping abruptly, "Why? You don’t want it? It's okay, we don't ha- I'm sorry I-".
"Shh, amore mio, shh", Jannik soothed, "of course I want it - I always want you, don't doubt that. Just wanted to make sure with you, gorgeous", he pushed some of your hair behind your ear.
"Okay", you blushed, letting yourself into the bubble of love and want.
"Is it comfortable like this?", he asked as he helped you lay down, getting the pillows to support you, "lay down for me, amore", he removed your top.
"It's good, Jan", you sighed as his hands expertly roamed on your body, paying attention to every curve and dimple with the same loving smile on his face that never faltered when he looked at you.
Opening your legs as you watched him kneel on the mattress, his lips coming to kiss just above your belly button, slowly making his way over to your chest, kissing all the way from your sternum to your lips, his hands on your waist as his thumb grazed your boobs.
Feeling you hiss into his mouth, "they're a bit tender lately but", you took one of the hands you had in his hair and grabbed his, placing it on your nipple, "it feels really good here", you muttered as he circled the areola, your breathing indicating him that it was feeling good for you.
Continuing his kisses, his hands moving from your chest to the waistband of the shorts you were wearing, hooking his fingers so he could remove them as well as your underwear, forcing the mattress to dip so he could get them off, admiring how your beautiful body laid there just for him. His hand went to the spot between your legs that ached to be touched, his fingers circling your clit has he groaned, feeling the wetness that had gathered there.
"I want to feel you inside me, I promise I'll tell you if anything hurts", you said immediately, already knowing what concerned him.
Getting up to remove the rest of his clothing, Jannik adjusted the pillow to support your bump as he layed beside you, his hand travelling from your bump to your bundle of nerves, flicking it once more and smiling against your back when you reacted immediately, your body (in)patiently waiting for him to slide into you.
"I'm ready when you are", he teased before you whined, his arm helping by holding your leg up so he could finally slide inside you, his thrusts building their speed as Jannik held you closely to his body, kissing where he could reach on your back, “I love you”, he muttered into the skin, "I can't believe you're the one having my baby, you're always so good to me", groaning as he felt his high coming soon.
Moving your hand to your nipples, the newfound sensitivity welcomed, you tried you best to mimick your husband's earlier touches, your attempt sufficient for the time being as you felt your walls squeeze Jannik, his muttered announcement that he was close making you grab his arm on your hips as he trusted one final time, the both of you cumming as his hand moved to caress you bump while you readjusted your breathing.
A few minutes after, Jannik scooted away from you, helping you face him while still laying down, "Did it help in anything?", he said as he caressed your cheeks, his lips going straight to your lips to steal a peck.
"I feel really good", you said as you snuggled further into his chest, "thank you, amore mio". Brushing the hairs on your head, Jannik placed a kiss on top of them, "thank you for trusting me", earning your reply, "I'd trust you with everything I have".
Later that night, the mood changed again. The tears came back - not angry, just heavy.
You were sitting on the edge of the bed, face buried in your hands, when Jannik knelt in front of you.
“Hey, hey", he whispered, taking your hands in his. “What’s this about? Is something painful? Or hurting?”
“I just…”, our voice cracked, “I feel so tired, and I hate crying all the time. I don’t even know why I’m crying".
He squeezed your fingers, his thumb brushing your knuckles, "then cry,” he said softly, "I’ll sit here with you until you’re done".
And he did.
He didn’t try to fix it, didn’t offer clichés - just held you, kissed your hands, whispered quiet reassurances until your breathing evened out again.
When you finally looked up, his eyes were warm and steady.
“How do you do it?", you asked, voice small, “Stay so calm all the time?”.
He smiled faintly, "Because I love you. And because one day, when our piccolina is here and everything is chaos, I want you to remember that I’ll still be right here - doing exactly this".
You smiled through your tears, leaning forward to kiss him softly, "I really don’t deserve you".
“Yes, you do", he murmured against your lips, “and much more, and I hope I can give it to you".
He pulled you gently against his chest, his hand resting protectively on your belly, "all of you, always", he whispered, "even on the hard days".
And for the first time that day, everything inside you finally felt calm.
You and Jannik have noticed some changes in your friendship
Note: english is not my first language. So... This is my first big piece for a tennis player! I have written fanfiction before but it's been a while since I posted one of these, hopefully I still know how to do it 🥲 I hope this is good enough ✨️
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
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"So when are you going to be back?", you asked your best friend over the phone. The difference in timezones wasn't too bad and you both found some time that worked for both of you.
"The flight lands at fifteen past eleven, I think", Jannik mumbled, rubbing his temples as he squinted.
"You need to rest, Jannik", you said, urging him to go and sleep.
"No, I don't, I wanted to talk to you", he spoke, "my parents are having a dinner tomorrow, nothing fancy, it's just my parents, Mark, my aunt, and you of course", he smiled, "you are invited".
"Your mum called me this morning to invite me, I already told her I'd go", you confirmed.
Jannik smiled at the unfold of events - of course his mother had already invited you. In the years of your friendship, Siglinde had always referred to you as the daughter she never had. She loved her boys to pieces, but it was nice to have some female energy in the house.
"Miss me much?", the red haired man asked.
"Not really, no - your mum said your dad was making that really delicious tiramisu he makes, that's what really sold me", you stated.
"Your best friend of twenty years comes home after a hard tournament, finally has some time in our hometown when we both are there, and you're going because of dad's tiramisu?", he clarified.
"Yap", you emphasised the 'p' sound.
"Not even a little bit? Like, I don't know, maybe miss me because you don't have company for your walks, or because I wasn't there for our weekly marathon of TV shows?", he tried again.
"True, I missed you then, but only because I went to my chocolate drawer and I only have one bar left. You know, the ones you always bring me from the duty free shop?", you pulled your best puppy dog look.
"I already have a stash for you in my bag - there was a shop next to the hotel who sold them and I stocked up in case things are busy tomorrow", Jannik spoke.
With him, you never needed to pull the puppy dog look anyway. Much to his dismay, you never asked for anything fancy, you never asked him to pull strings or asked for special favours. Even these chocolates, which he had been getting you for years, were a battle at the beggining because, according to you, he didn't have to get you anything. Him coming back home and be your best friend - the one you laughed with, the one you cried with, the one you called whenever a date went wrong and the first one to know your achievements - was enough. It had always been.
"Well, then I must admit I do look forward to tomorrow", you smirked, "because how else would I fill my chocolate drawer?".
"I'm going to tell Darren and Simone about this, and any time you'll want to change my training schedule for our plans, they won't help", Jannik tutted back.
"They would never do that to me", you claimed, "they're on my side", with a big smile on your face.
Jannik's favourite smile in the world was yours, simple as that. His parents' never failed to make him feel proud, and his brother's always cheered him up, but your smile had the incomparable ability to make him giddy, butterflies in his tummy at the prospect of having you give him one of your special smiles.
"Knew I couldn't compete with you - everyone falls for you", Jannik sighed. He had, and for a long time now.
"Now seriously", you paused, "you should sleep, if you get home and you look worse than someone who just got out of a flight, I'll feel guilty".
"Night night, Y/N, sleep tight", he wished.
"Night night, Jannik, I'll see you tomorrow", you spoke quietly.
.
"Y/N, dear, you're here!", Hanspeter greeted you once he opened the door.
"Hi, how are you?", you greeted back with a hug and walked inside the Sinner household, already knowing where you could leave your things.
"Good, everyone's home", he winked as he closed the door, "the food just needs a few more minutes and then we can get to the table - Jannik is upstairs, he needed to shower after the flight, so you best be glad you arrived after that", he chuckled.
Passing by the dining room, you spotted Siglinde, "Hey, I've just arrived, do you need my help with anything?", you asked, greeting her in the same warm manner as you did with her husband.
"Darling!", she smiled, "everything is under control here, but thanks! Besides, there's someone upstairs who really wants to see you".
Walking up the familiar steps, you headed straight to Jannik's bedroom, knocking on the door and getting a hum of approval.
"I hope you're properly dressed because I don't need to get a scare right in the morning", you teased as you opened the door, finding Jannik's back to you as he put on a black t-shirt.
You hoped the gulp didn't sound as loud in the room as it did in your head, because it was there. The muscles on his back contracted beautifully as he pulled the cotton piece of clothing, adjusting it on his frame before he turned to face you.
"I'm clean, I smell good, and I haven't had time to mess up the room yet - there's nothing to see here!", your best friend argued.
Maybe you wished there was something to see, surely got a peek at something.
"It's alright", you sniffed around, "I guess it's alright", before launching yourself into his arms.
"I haven't even given you the chocolates", Jannik whispered as he squeezed you against him.
"I don't care about the chocolates, I couldn't care less about the chocolates", you mumbled, taking his scent in. He smelled of shower gel and clean clothes, but there was that eucalyptus scent that was so characteristically his and something you couldn't explain, it brought you comfort, ease and it felt like home. No matter where you were, "I missed you".
Three simple words and yet they meant the world to Jannik.
"I missed you too", he spoke against the top of your head, "are you sure you can't come with me for the next tournament?".
"I have a few things I can't move around, I'm sorry", you apoligised.
"Oh", he spoke, trying his best to not let the disappointment he felt show through.
"I might be able to make it to the ones in the winter", you attempted.
"Lunch is ready!", Hanspeter called.
"That's our cue", Jannik spoke, nudging your hips before letting you lead the way downstairs.
.
"Are you all ready?", you said as you and Lucia walked inside the room, clasping your watch on your wrist and hoping to find the guys ready to go.
Jannik invited you to the Jannik Sinner Foundation's dinner, along with his brother and some other friends.
The dress required everyone to up their usual style, hence the long dress you were wearing. Even though it was far from your usual everyday attire, you felt beautiful in the dress you ended up with after browsing the shops for a while. The cut was simple, the skirt widening from your waist down and complimenting your curves as the sheen from the emerald green fabric looked soft and sweet against your skin.
Jannik seemed to think the same, trying his best to not let his mouth hang open when you and Lucia walked inside the room where the guys were getting ready, heels clicking on the wooden floor as you hurried them, "does it really take that long to put on a suit? I had to help Lucia with all the buttons on her dress - and there are many, many buttons there -, and we still got ready faster than the four of you?", you asked, shaking your wrist to check if the dainty watch wasn't going to fall and that it wasn't too tight either.
Looking up to meet Jannik's eyes, you were sure you physically and audibly gulped. No one should look that good in a plain white shirt. The cuffs were still unbuttoned, but the shirt itself was tucked in his black pants. His curls were the perfect kind of messy for the occasion, and you swore his eyes sparkled.
"Jannik has a problem with his shirt and we are trying to solve it", Mark said, a little bit too antsy given that, at the naked eye, there wasn't that big of an issue with the piece of clothing you had been inspecting quite closely.
"There was a loose button, and I tried to fix it, but I made it worse", Jannik said as he pointed to the button on his hand, the slight movement showing you the place where it was supposed to he holding the piece together and closed.
"I mean, it's his foundation, he's giving a speech! He can't go out looking like that!", Mark spoke.
"Four people in this room and no one thought about grabbing the sewing kit from the amenities?", Lucia suggested, looking for it in the box that was the same as it was in your room, "see? Simple as that! Can you sew it, Y/N? My nails are way too big for me to fiddle with this".
None of the other guys seemed to even know how to pull the thread through the needle, so you grabbed the kit from Lucia's hand, "sure, I'll do it", you said, "Come here, Jan", you called.
"Do I keep it on or should I take it off?", he questioned, wanting to slap himself straight after at his offer. Why would he volunteer to be shirtless in front of you? Just so you could see how much his body reacted to you?
"On should be fine", you muttered, missing the snickers going on behind you as you wet the thread with your tongue, careful to not transfer any of the lipstick on it and ruining the piece without point of return for good, easily looping it through and adjusting the size of the ends.
"Button", you put your hand out so Jannik could place it in your fingers, "I will do my best not to poke you, let me know if I do so accidentally - as much as you sometimes annoy me, I don't want to injure you", you mumbled at the closeness to him you found yourself in. It was the third button from the top, and as much as you loved the sight of the shirt slightly undone, the dinner required his shirt to be done up.
Looping the thread on the button a few times, you moved to pierce the crisp white fabric so it would be secure, your hands dangerously close to his pale skin as you could hear his laboured breath.
Lately, there were lingering touches, fingers that laced together like they had a mind of their own, kisses on the cheek he wished were somewhere else and hugs that never lasted long enough.
It had always been enough, but lately it seemed it wasn't. There was something missing, a piece that didn't quite fit right.
"It's done, all good!", you exclaimed, looking up as you cut the thread and seeing Jannik's eyes on you, "you don't look so bad anymore!", you teased despite the intensity nearly throwing you off of your balance as you stood the tiniest bit crouched down on your high heels.
Scrambling to further the distance between your bodies, you smoothed out the non existent wrinkles on your dress, storing the supplies back in the kit as Jannik managed to utter out a thank you, too stunned and intoxicated by your scent to say anything else.
"I sewed a button as neither of you look any more ready that you were when we got here? We're going to be late!", you hurried, sitting next to Lucia and ignoring her smirk as you scrolled through your phone.
.
Jannik was off and everyone sensed it. Don't get him wrong, because he was still polite as ever and stopped to sign things and take photos with fans, greeting everyone warmly. But there was something there.
"Do you want to stop for a bit? Take a break?", Simone suggested.
"Are you saying I'm not doing well?", Jannik wondered as he set his racket down.
"A break is good, that's all", the trainer admitted, letting Jannik drink water and refuel.
As he walked to Darren, wanting to discuss how to proceed in the session, the Australian man had a relieved look on his face. When he showed him the text message he had just received, they both sighed, "grazie a Dio!".
.
You stepped into the grounds almost too casually for someone carrying a pass to the player's box, looking around carefully so you could find the way to where you were supposed to head and meet Darren.
"Y/N, here!", the Australian waved after you successfully turned left twice and walked along a corridor.
"Hey, finally a familiar face!", you giggled, greeting him.
"I know it's not the one you wanted to see - we're very aware of that actually", he sighed, "but we're very glad you're here! He's been... difficult".
When some meetings got pushed and some cancellations appeared out of nowhere in your schedule, you figured out you could go out and watch your bestfriend play. A few texts to Darren and he made it happen so there you were.
"Thank you for taking care of the pass - I know it must have been a hassle", you thanked.
"Trust me - through here, you first -, it was the least stressful thing I had to do. Do you know how hard it is to lie to Jannik when he's moping because he misses you?", he mused as you found your seats.
"Hi, Y/N, I'm very glad you were able to join us!", Simone smiled and greeted.
"I was just telling her how easy she's making the rest of our weekend", Darren spoke as he put on his sunglasses.
"He's not that bad, guys, give him a break", you tried to intersect for your friend.
"He's very upset you haven't been able to join us - hopefully he looks this way before the match and things might be better", Darren hoped.
You had been videochatting and you could sense the same thing from him - he seemed sad, even though he'd never say it to you because he knew you'd feel guilty, but there was something there.
Jannik looked handsome in the kit he chose for this match, the all black look elegant and accepting his features beautifully.
That your bestfriend was handsome was never something you denied, but lately it seemed you wanted more. There was a new feeling whenever someone said the same thing, or pointed out something about him you've known for much longer. Jealously seemed a far stretch you wanted to deny, but the reality seemed to indicate that that's what it was.
Jannik set his things down after the little boy sprinted off to his spot, arranging things the way he liked before he looked up at the box, expecting to see his team and finding you in the mix.
The smile that came on his lips was like no other, and everyone noticed the change.
After he waved at you, shaking his head from side to side as he understood that his team was aware of your visit, he winked at you.
And for the rest of the match, he stood taller. More assured. Calm and collected despite the fire inside of him telling him he needed to impress you. You came all this way to see him and he had to do it for you.
Once the match ended, Jannik greeted the opponent in his usual graceful manner and got on with the post match obligations as fast as he could so he could get to you.
Approaching his team, his shoulders slumped, not hiding his disappointment.
"She went to the bathroom, I'm sure she'll be here any second now", Darren teased the redhead.
"I did-', Jannik tried to justify.
"We know who you want to see, it's not like you were all happy to see Darren in his hat, was it?", Simone carried on.
"I think it suits me, actually", Darren stated but Jannik's attention was somewhere else.
He got a glimpse of your flowy dress when he saw you sat down, knowing from the detailed straps that it was one of his favourites on you, but seeing all of you got his heart racing as it was in the court moments earlier.
"You're here", Jannik sighed, hugging you tightly against him, taking in your presence in every way he could.
"I am", you reasoned, "my schedule changed a lot and I got time to come and see my favourite tennis player. I missed you a lot Jannik", you whispered, lightly kissing his neck.
"Not as much as I missed you", he looked into your eyes for a moment before some bustling down the corridor broke your bubble.
Friends didn't react this way when they were away from eachother. And certainly didn't react like this when the met up.
"Jannik, your brother said that his flight just arrived and that he's going straight to the hotel", Simone offered, "we were not able to get a room for you, Y/N, it was fully booked, so we managed to ask for an extra bed in Mark's room".
Jannik shouldn't have been so disappointed.
Arriving at the hotel, you found Mark and walked up to the rooms since they were booked in the same floor, opening the door to find that the extra bed was the sofa bed.
"I have a sofa bed in my room too", Jannik replied quickly, "we can set it up for you to sleep there".
"Are you sure?", you wondered.
"Besides, he's travelled around lot today, don't you want to rest, Mark?", he asked his brother.
"You are in the tournament, Jannik, you're the one who needs the rest", Mark argued back.
"Yes, I don’t want to disturb your night", you reasoned.
"You won't", Jannik accepted. I'll probably be more disturbed if you're not there.
"Okay", you said, not hiding the smile as you wheeled your bag into his room.
After dinner in the hotel, you retreated back to your rooms, with you quickly taking off the day's clothes and taking a shower.
The hot water was enough to let go of the tension of the past few days. Or was it Jannik's presence? To know that he was just on the other side of that door?
Wrapping the fluffy towels around your body, you wrapped your hair in a smaller one and got on with your skincare. As you were about to put on your clothes, you realized you forgot them inside the room.
Opening the door slightly, you called for Jannik, "can you get me my pyjamas, please? I left them on the bed".
Jannik got up from his spot on the bed and gave you the striped cotton set, waiting a few minutes before you opened the door completely.
He loved every version of you - all dolled up for a gala, dressed up for work or quickly put together for your workouts -, but seeing you like this was his favourite. No make-up, hair brushed and untamed, relaxed and in your comfortable element. And he specially loved that he was one of the few people who got his version of you. And he couldn't help but be proud and maybe a little smug about it.
"What is it?", you asked, "I just showered! There can't be much wrong with me!".
"Shut up with that nonsense", he tutted softly, "I'm going to get ready for bed too - pick something for us to watch".
While you picked something on the TV, you ended up sitting in the big bed, scrolling through the streaming services until you found something mindless to put on, knowing you'd end up chatting and paying very little attention to it.
As soon as Jannik came out of the bathroom, in some shorts and a t-shirt, wet curls tousled from the towell and a relaxed expression, you patted the spot next to you, getting him to join you.
"But yeah, Monaco is pretty boring when you're not there", you admitted as you adjusted your position after telling him all the gossip from the last few weeks.
"I'm very happy you're here, Y/N, I hope you know that", he spoke, letting his body slide down so he could get comfier, and close to you.
"I'm very happy I'm here too", you took the opportunity to rest your head on Jannik's arm and take it all in.
Yeah, you were falling in love with your best friend.
On his hand, Jannik was trying his hardest to resist the urge to pull you into his embrace - you looked so cosy, so at peace and he wanted to keep you both in that bubble.
The TV shows mindlessly playing was enough to lull you to sleep, letting yourself succumb to the tiredness you felt.
Jannik let himself daydream for a bit, enjoying the way your body was so close to his and how you had lightly grasped his t-shirt. He could get used to this.
When the time for him to sleep, he gently held you, transferring you to the sofa bed and pulling the covers, kissing your forehead gently before getting in his bed and lying down, wishing the stars that one day he could admit how he felt about you.
.
You were in Jannik's flat cooking dinner for the two of you on a Friday night since he didn't have any tournaments, the water on the pot on the stove already boiling as you stirred the sauce on the other pan, "I'm already out of the shower", your bestfriend yelled before you heard what you assumed was his bedroom door, giving you the timing cue like you asked so you would know when to put the pasta in. You heard his steps down the stairs and crossing the corner to meet you in the kitchen, "Thank you again for sorting dinner, I was really needing it after that workout", he said as he grabbed your hand that held the wooden spoon as to help you stir the pasta. Things had been getting more touchy with Jannik, and you can't really say you didn't enjoy it. Sure, as bestfriends you had never had a problem with spending a lot of time with eachother, but recently you felt a weird shift in the air, both of you were bolder in your greetings, kisses on cheeks and forehead were a common reoccurrence and the hugs seemed to last a bit longer. And everyone around you noticed it - parents, friends, trainers, colleagues. Hell, even Jannik's oldest neighbour, Olivia, a ninety year old woman, kept asking you when you were moving in and if you were thinking of having children soon.
"See if this tastes good", you reluctantly took your hand away from his to go and grab a spoon from the drawer so he could taste the sauce, bringing the spoon to his mouth with your other hand in a shell shape to not let anything that might drip fall on your clothes, "a little bit more of basil maybe?", he said grabbing the glass container and adding more to the sauce before you got everything set on the table and enjoyed dinner.
You were now laying on the sofa, the news on the TV screen as you both got up to what was happening the world and soon, your eyes felt droopy and you fell asleep, cuddling further into the massive blanket you were sharing with Jannik. He had been talking for a bit, giving his opinion on something one of the reporters had said and looked at you when you didn't reply, chuckling to himself as he admired your sleeping figure.
Soon, midnight was approaching and he knew better than to just let his eyes rest a bit before he would get you in his arms and tucked in the spare bedroom's bed. Five minutes turned to ten, and ten turned into hours, the sofa large and comfortable enough for the two of you to spend the night there if you wished.
The sun started flickering through the curtains when you woke up, feeling some tingles on your leg as you tried to make sense of where you were. This is not your bedroom. This isn't even a bedroom, this is Jannik's living room and that's when you felt someone next to you.
Jannik was sleeping still, although the sunlight that persisted and landed on his eyes prompted him to rustle in his sleep, "Oh, I fell asleep didn't I?", his groggy morning voice was heard as you giggled.
"Apparently, and somehow we're all tangled", you referred to your tingly right leg shin that had been caught between Jannik's thighs.
"Did you feel that shift too? Or was it just me?", Jannik said out loud, willing to take the risk, "How everything seemed deeper, more meaningful... when was it? I think I've felt it when you surprised me, I was so happy that you came to see me", he mused as his eyes focused on yours.
Looking for his hand under the blanket, your hand clasped is his as you found it, "For me, it was when I noticed Darren and Simone were purposefully making us spend time together alone", you giggled as you felt the blush of your cheeks, "it felt really nice, and I slept really good tonight".
Getting impossibly closer to you, Jannik freed his hand from yours only to place them on each of your cheeks, "what if we try something between us? Just something between us for now, see how this goes...", he said, "it's about time I show you how much you meant to me", he finished with a chaste kiss on your lips, sealing all the promised he intended to keep.
“I never told you how I felt because I didn’t want to ruin what we had… And I was scared if we got together then broke up, I’d lose you as both a friend and a lover. I don’t think I could live with myself if that ever happened", you mused, showing the small fear.
“You know me better than anyone else. You know me better than I know myself. So I hope you also know that you’re someone I’d do anything for, Y/N", Jannik held your hand and kissed your knuckles, "we'll talk and take it in our own time, but we'll work with it".
Despite being known faces to the public, Jannik and Y/N manage to keep it (almost) low-key when they go to a Champions League match
Note: english is not my first language. I've seen a couple of old photos of him in matches, so I thought about something like this
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
Tw: mentions puberty (boobs in particular)
When Jannik found out that AC Milan and the team you supported were in the same Champions League group, he hoped that you would be able to go and watch a game together as a way of relaxing and enjoying a football match like a normal couple would. Sure, he was grateful for all his fans and knew that without them he wouldn't be where he is, but that didn't mean that he sometimes wished he could go out and not have to worry about running into people who knew who he was. But over the years, since you started dating, he had learnt how to balance everything out.
So, when Simone announced that the AC Milan group stage game against your team was during the week Jannik knew you were going to be home, he didn't think twice and asked him to get tickets for you as well.
Arriving at the San Siro Stadium, you had managed to get in the box without making too much fuss, the security staff guaranteeing that all of the reporters were not allowed in that area of the stadium and wishing you a good game. You sat next to Jannik as Simone and Darren took their seats too, watching the players from yout team entering the pitch for their warm-up.
"Tell me, Y/N, how are you going to feel when your team looses? Just so that were prepared to deal with you in a few hours time", Simone teased you since they were all supporting the italian team.
"I know it's going to be a hard game for them, but I still have hope they'll get a good result", you said firmly as you opened your bag, pulling out the scarf you've had since you were a kid, a sweet memory of going to your first game with your grandpa.
"Oh, look - she came prepared!", Darren mused.
"And I didn't bring my t-shirt because I haven't bought a new one since I got the one when I was a boobless teenager going through puberty", you playfully teased back.
"Well, I like your boobs now, no need to hide them in a tight t-shirt", Jannik whispered in your ear, pressing a kiss on your neck.
"Thank you, amore, I like your boobies too", you patted his chest over the t-shirt that left little to the imagination about the muscles under it.
Giggling as Simone fake gagged, you clapped along when you heard the fans that had travelled to see the game sing one of the team's support chants, "you could go and sing along with them. Although I think your pretty and well located voice would be very different compared to theirs", Jannik pointed out.
"Yeah, I don't think we'd hear Y/N that much", Darren said as he handed you a bottle of water you has asked him to get since he offered to bring you something.
"Thank you", you said before taking a sip, "Oh, when I was little I always wanted to go to their stand in the home stadium and chant with them, but my grandpa always said that I would end up swallowed in the middle of them", you reasoned.
Humming in agreement, Darren spoke directly to you, "One could say he had a point, you know? And this is not me poking fun of your height differences, at least not now", he said with a smirk.
The teams had now gone back to the dressing rooms and you were watching Jannik and Simone talk about some new plan he had for him when you heard the Champions League Anthem, whistling as the players found their positions on the pitch.
"I didn't know you could whistle like that", Jannik said, shocked that in the years you had been dating he had never seen you do it.
"Please, she does that everytime you win a game, over the claps you can't quite hear it unless you're very close", Simone forwarded, smiling at you.
It only took Milan a few minutes to score the first goal, the three men erupting in cheer as you crossed your arms over your chest, not even looking at them before deciding to join the clapping with the fans from your team.
"How are you feeling Y/N?", Darren asked, leaning over in his seat so he could see you.
"It was a nice goal, to be fair, but there's still a lot of game to play", you replied shortly as your eyes followed the ball, feeling Jannik place his hand back on your thigh and squeezing it.
Just before half-time your team scored, you jumping up on your seat when the striker dribbled to the goal, letting out a squeal when the ball hit the back of the net before looking back at Darren, the smile on your face earning a huff from him, "like you said, there's stil game to play".
"I don't want to jinx it, but it's been really nice just being here with you, no one asking for pictures or autographs, just enjoying a game with you and my friends", Jannik said near your ear as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, the music blasting through the stadium's speakers during the half-time requiring that closeness, not that you minded. You nodded, "yes, I'm quite surprised but I guess people are more worried about the game, as they should too. They're all playing really well", you said as you noticed the players going back in the pitch, doing all sorts of jumps and leg exercises to warm back up.
The second part had been tense, your team scoring ten minutes in as Milan tried to get past them, you getting up everytime the goalkeeper made a defense, making Jannik grab your hips so you could sit on his lap. "They're probably winning because you are supporting them so vividly", Simone mumbled.
"You always say I'm a nice supporter, the best one even", you tried to reason, a teasing glint in your eyes.
"That is when you are supporting me, not all of them", Jannik chirped in as he gestured to the men running on the pitch, making you kiss his cheek sweetly before returning to clapping.
Unluckily for AC Milan, they were unable to score a goal, leaving the end result 1-2.
"I could be a really bad sport now, and tease all of you, but I'm just going to respectfully say it was a well disputed match", you said while you waited for the fans to exit the stadium before you guys could make your own way out of the stadium once the crowds were gone.
When you got to the hotel room, you were exhausted, going to the bathroom for your night routine before coming back to the bedroom area and grabbing one of Jannik's clean training t-shirts to sleep in while he was in the bathroom.
You watched as your boyfriend put on his sleep shorts, reminding yourself how lucky you were that he was all yours, opening the sheets on his side of the bed so you could cuddle into his chest, him getting the hint straight away and snuggling into his pillow, looking for his comfortable position before grabbing your waist under his t-shirt and pushing your body to his.
"We should do this more often, you know? It's not like we don't try, but I really love just having you with me, no one bothering. We were really lucky today and it might not happen again so soon, but I really enjoyed it", you whispered as you kissed his naked chest, sleep already catching up with you.
Brushing some hairs out of your face, Jannik smiled as looked at you, "I know, me too. It's a shame they lost though", he chuckled, earning a small giggle from you.
"Yeah, but there's always the second leg. Maybe you'll be happier there", you said as he noticed your eyes were definitely closing for good.
"Goodnight, amore mio. I love you so much", he said pressing a kiss to your forehead, your mutter of a "sweet dreams handsome I love you too" bringing a blushy smile to his face.
Since he wasn't too tired, Jannik browsed through Instagram for a bit when he noticed a message from a fan, opening it to see a video of a girl recording her blunt reaction to the second goal your team scored and, in the back, he could see you celebrating while he was looking at you, amused by your reaction and what he thought people often referred to his look of love.
The message read "Ciao Jannik, I don't mean to sound creepy but I was recording my reaction to the goal and I only realised that it was you and Y/N in the back when I got home. I'm not posting it anywhere because I know you value your privacy, but I thought it was too cute of a moment to not share with you. I hope you had a nice time and that the second leg works better in our favour!".
Yeah, at the end of the day, he was happy if you were happy.
Note: english is not my first language. This is inspired by a piece that I loved writing a while ago, so I tweaked it to tennis!
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
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Cw: mentions of being ill, living away from family members, curse words
Last night hadn't been the best. You had woken up at 3 am covered in sweat, the t-shirt you wore to sleep stuck to your skin along with the sheets that covered your legs. Getting up, your pounding head only allowed you to turn your bedside lamp on for soft light as you took your bedding off, discarding it on the floor as you headed to the bathroom. Checking the water and regulating it to the right temperature, you undressed yourself and threw your sweaty clothes on the sheet pile.
After washing your body and your hair, you got out of the shower and dried your body, grabbing a new pair of underwear and an oversized t-shirt. You made your way to the kitchen, grabbing a little granola bar so you had some sugar in your system before heading back to your bed, stopping by the bathroom to discard your hair towell, deciding that you did not have the energy to grab your hairdryer and would deal with the curls in the morning.
You woke up again at 6 am, this time your head pouding even more, prompting you to grab a paracetamol and wash it down with some water, falling back asleep after it started working.
You woke up at 8 am and despite the tiredness you felt, you couldn't get yourself to fall back asleep, rolling in your bed for a good half an hour until you gave up. Heading to the bathroom and doing what you needed to do, you then got to the kitchen and started preparing some toast and juice for breakfast. You were sitting on the sofa when your phone pinged, a text message from Jannik saying he had landed and was on his way to your place.
Now that was something you hadn't thought about. When he suggested you guys spent his first day back together, you had been fine, just a stuffy nose and tiredness, making you agree with him and hoping whatever you had would pass quickly.
You were feeling a lot better considering the previous days and the nightyou just had, but the thought of Jannik wanting to do something with you in this state wasn't something you couldn't push yourself to do, and as much as you hated to do it, you had to tell him how you were feeling.
You had refused to admit to your boyfriend that you hadn't been feeling well during the weekend, wanting him to focus on his tournament.
Since the timezone difference was a significant number of hours, you managed to speak with Jannik only through messages and quick phone calls, and the only time you were able to video chat you were already in bed, disguising your tired face from the toll whatever bug you had caught was taking on you with the sheets and low lighting.
So you pressed the telephone icon, waiting for him to pick up as you stuffed the dirty sheets and clothing from last night in your washing machine, "Hi amore, I'm just leaving the airport now. Do you need me to bring you anything?", his voice came out of your phone speaker.
"Hi, my love, how was the flight? About that... I'm sorry but I think we're going to have to cancel the plans for today, I had a really bad night and I'm so so tired I don't think I can go anywhere today. I really wanted to spend the day with you doing something, I miss you loads", you pouted.
Jannik was quick to pick up on the disappointment and tiredness in your voice, "Nonsense, we don't have to do anything special. How about I grab some food and we spend the day on the sofa? How does that sound?", he replied.
You sighed, appreciating the man on the other side of the line, "you're sure you don't mind? You can go hang out with somebody else, I don't mind", you said genuinely.
"I don't care what we do. As long as I'm with you, that's all I care about. Do you need anything specific?", he asked, earning a negative reply on your behalf and then bidding eachother goodbye.
Looking around your place, it was actually pretty clean. Since you had spent the weekend in your bed, the rest of the house was actually tidy, "only need to tidy the bedroom now, Y/N, c'mon", you told yourself as you got to work. You made your bed, now properly fitting the sheets you roughly replaced in the early hours of the morning, making your bed and grabbing any cups and bottles of the many liquids you had been drinking, opening the window so the air renovated too.
You were washing the plate and cups when someone knocked on your door and, drying your hands in one of the towells, you went to open the door, "Hi, my love! Oh, I can get that", you said grabbing his back pack whilst you both got inside, setting his bags on the living room.
"I got some pasta from that place we went the other day that we really liked, some chocolates and", he unveiled something from behind him, "these, I hope you like them, bella", he said referring to a beautiful bunch of flowers.
You were in awe of him, warmth spreading through your chest, "I love you so much and I want to kiss you so badly right now", you grumbled.
"Why don't you, amore?", your boyfriend asked, not understanding what was stopping you.
"I'm think I've caught something, probably sweated it off yesterday, but I don't want you to catch it", you pouted, not looking at his face, already imagining the concerned look on his handsome face.
"Let's go question by question. Number one, you were sick?", he said, grabbing your chin gently so you looked straight into his eyes - and therefore couldn't get away with a lie-, earning a nod from you.
"Yes, I think it's over now, I'm just tired", you shrugged it off.
"Number two, why didn't you tell me?", he asked in the softest tone, not wanting you to feel like he was scolding you.
"Because I didn't want to distract you and I genuinely thought I would shake it off quickly", you explained.
"Not exactly a question but number three", the tall man said grabbing your waist, "I think I may have had what you had and might have even been the one to pass it to you so we can kiss, please?", before pressing his lips on top of yours. And how you both missed that feeling.
"I'm sorry, I just didn't want you to worry and bother you", you whispered after you broke your kiss, looking at his eyes.
"You know you could never bother me, right?", Jannik said brushing your baby hairs away and pressing a kiss to your forehead, "now c'mon, let's eat because that pasta won't eat itself", he said sitting you down as he went to the kitchen to grab cutlery.
After a brief discussion about who would clean the dishes, you won and went in the kitchen while Jannik prepared the living room for your afternoon.
"I'm done in the kitchen", you said, walking in your living and seeing the blankets and pillows all fluffed up on the couch, an array of sweets on the table and the TV ready for you to choose something to watch, "you know you didn't have to do all this you know? I could've helped too", you said hugging your boyfriend's back and revelling in the feeling of having him so close to you.
"I know you're very independent", he said turning around and grabbing you so he could sit on the sofa and you could sit on his lap, "It was one of the things that attracted me and made me love you in the first place, but I also enjoy taking care of you", he said as he pulled the blanket over the both of you.
"It's just I have been on my own for most of the time and so there wasn't anyone else to get it done but me", you said, referring to your move a few years ago.
You had gotten an amazing job offer and, in a similar way to Jannik, there was no way you could decline it, even if it meant moving to another country and away from your family. "But I'm enjoying this very much", you hummed, nuzzling your nose in the crook of Jannik's neck and inhaling the comforting scent. "Well, I'm planning on being here for a long time so you can always count on me", he said pressing a loving kiss on your face, noticing your rapid blinking eyes indicating that a couple's nap was in order. And he wasn't a single bit mad about it.
Your lifestyle is so different to Carlos' that maybe everyone else is right
Note: english is not my first language. Let's dip in into something angsty, shall we?
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
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Tw: mentions reader's insecurities about herself and about her relationship with Carlos, alcohol consumption
"Hola, mi amor!", Carlos greeted with a bug smile when you picked up his video call.
"Hey love, congrats on your win!", you smiled back, now able to congratulate him face to face even if through a screen, "Don't you look handsome, hm?", you bit your lip once he set the phone and clasped his bracelets on his wrist.
The outfit was simple but he made it look so good. He was wearing black jeans with a white t-shirt, and had he been right in front of you, you would have already laced your arms around his neck and littered little kisses along the tanned skin.
"Thank you, amor", he blushed slightly, "Álvaro and Marta are also going to the club tonight", he smiled, "it's really good and it's supposed to have the craziest nights out in town, so we're going to check it out - I miss you loads, can't wait to go back home", he mused.
"Me too, but I'm glad you're having a good time out there! I'm not going to say I wish I was there because it doesn't look like my scene, but I can't wait to have you with me, love", you giggled.
"That's true, I don't think it would be very enjoyable for you", Carlos agreed, "we're leaving in the morning, which will be night time for you, so I'll text you updates and then when I arrive we can have an early dinner in that restaurant you really like near your place and then we could spend the night together. How does that sound?", he suggested.
"Sounds good to me", you smiled at the prospect. Time couldn't go by faster.
"I have to go, amor - Marta and Álvaro are already downstairs waiting for me! I love you and I can't wait to kiss your gorgeous face", he winked.
"Go enjoy yourself, Carlitos, you deserve it! Give your brother and Marta a hug from me. Te quiero!", you blew him a kiss before he ended the call.
Work commitments and some family situations had kept you from going to the final. It was a common thing to happen in the smaller tournaments on tour but it still left you missing Carlos like crazy, counting down the hours until he was on your arms again.
You finished cooking your dinner, ate it and then headed to the living room, ready to unwind and start your bedtime routine, getting a selfie from Marta with the boys in it too, the club lights illuminating then enough to tell them apart.
When you woke up, like promised, Carlos had sent you a text saying he had boarded the jet and everything was on schedule. Opening the text, you saw that a few hours before he had also sent you a video.
It was less than a minute, but you could see Carlos the DJ table, happily interacting with the crowd before mixing some music up and dancing along, "I love you, amor!", Carlos said into the phone before he ended the video.
You did your morning workout, showered and while you were having breakfast, you scrolled through your social media, seeing some edits from the match and a couple of videos from the club Carlos and some of his friends partied in.
The first one was a different angle from the one you had been sent, someone on the dance floor recording it and sending it to a fan page.
They usually didn't say much other than stating facts about the video, where it was taken, who was in it and who had sent it. This one, however, seemed to spark up the conversation as a lot of people had opinions about it.
He just looks so good 🥵 I'd never be able to leave his side if I was with him!
He always has the best night out spots
He just looks so happy when he's doing it, it's great he has friends who support him in it outside of tennis
Scrolling down, a gossip page post popped up. Unlike the other videos, this one was in a controlled environment and it seemed to be from someone on the VIP area. You could see Carlos talking to a group of people before the girl flipped the camera, speaking into her phone as subtitles showed "I can't believe this, it's Carlitos Alcaraz! Do you think we should go up to him? I bet he's here alone as usual", the blonde girl said as she swept her hair over her shoulder. She looked stunning, hair curled to perfection and make-up done in such a complementing way it showed skills you knew you didn't have yourself.
"I've seen his brother, and Jack and Bene were just at the bar I think", another girl with short black hair said.
"You know what I mean, he's never here with what's her face", she giggled tipsily.
Dating Carlos meant that you were exposed to these type of interactions from people online on a daily basis, more frequently whenever he posted you or you joined him on tour. On the comment section, some people alerted the page admin and the girl who sent the video about how offensive it was and how they didn't have the right to talk about you like that, but it didn't seem to do much as other people left their opinion.
He'd be so much better without her, did you see the article where someone at the club said he left with another girl? She's done for...
It wouldn't surprise me tbh, there's only so much it can work before you realise you don't have similar interests and things are not making you happy
Carlos would be so good with someone who is in the public eye, can you imagine all the content we would get?
Shaking it off of your body, you closed the app and locked your phone, taking a deep breath as your mind started filling with all sorts of doubts.
At the start, noise from the media was easy to reason with, but lately it was all you could think about. Every week with every interaction Carlos had with another woman, they would suggest he was in a relationship despite knowing you were dating eachother. You didn't understand why, but they had even taken the extra step of having someone comment on it and give their opinion on it, as if there was an opinion to give on who he dated and didn't date.
Getting up, your put some music on your headphones and started tidying the place - you couldn't sort your thoughts out, so might as well deal with the mess on your apartment.
"I missed you so much", Carlos said once you opened the door, his arms instantly wrapping around your body and walking you backwards, closing the door with his foot, "hello, my love", he said, nipping a few kisses on your neck before he looked up, finally kissing your lips after having spent so long away from you.
"Hello, Carlos", you cupped his face, kissing his lips again as his hands roamed along your waist and back, "I'm so glad you're back home", you smiled.
"Me too, especially when I'm greeted like this", he smirked, looking you up and down. In the last two years, you still hadn't gotten fully used to the way he would look at you.
His heart swelled with pride because you were his, all for him and no one else, "I love this colour on you", he kissed your exposed clavicle, "as much as I'd love to continue this, we have reservations to get to", he smiled before licking the spot he just kissed, "let's go, hermosa", he encouraged, making you get your coat and bag and put on your shoes, ready to go.
.
Carlos got VIP entrances to a fairly new club, and since Pedro was in town, too, you decided to join them on a night out. Despite the opinions everyone on the internet seemed to have, you did enjoy going out, just not every week or even every month. Shutting down your laptop after sending the last e-mail, you went to shower and start getting ready.
Making sure the towell was secure on your head and the robe was soaking up all the water remnants from your skin, you walked up to your wardrobe, running your fingers through the options you had for tonight. Settling in an outfit you felt both comfortable and beautiful in, you were quick to dry yourself and change, grabbing a simple black bag out of your closet and then heading to the bathroom for hair and make-up. You clipped your loose waves away from your face once they were dry while you applied some foundation to even out your skin tone, hiding the dark circles that came with the little sleep you'd gotten that week, bronzing, highlighting and contouring what needed, doing your brows and applying some mascara to your lashes. You weren't too fussed about makeup, choosing to stay on the simpler side of things, not bothering with the little moles and pimples that still showed through as you'd end up with your face resembling a pancake instead.
Checking if you were on time, you grabbed your watch and bracelets and clasped them to your wrist before clasping your necklace on your neck and putting simple hoop earrings, appreciating your final look in the mirror.
Not too much, not too little, but you didn't look like the girls your boyfriend was rumoured to be dating. The article came from a magazine where they had analysed everyone they thought would suit Carlos and his lifestyle, and even though you tried to ignore it, your boyfriend was the first to come to your place and tell you, in person, that he had nothing to do with those girls and most of them he didn't even knew personally anyway, spending the rest of the night in your bed reminding how much he loved you and only you.
Carlos was coming to pick you up soon, so you headed to the living room to wait for him. A knock on the door announced his presence, "I'm here to pick up the most beautiful woman in the whole wide world - my girlfriend", he charmed before taking a good look at you, "you're stunning, amor, breath taking", he gasped.
"C'mon, let's go", you urged, your cheeks blushing at the attention he was giving you.
"Baby girl, a little twirl for me first", he smirked, as you did it, "we're both one good looking couple, aren't we?", he added, kissing your cheek as you played with the thin chain around his neck
"You look great, handsome, so great", you kissed his throat before closing the door behind you.
As you walked inside the club with Carlos, who laced your hand in his as soon as he saw the crowded place, you took it all in.
It would be a lie to say that your senses hadn't been invaded all at once when you stepped into the VIP area of the club, different kinds of substances in the air and some perfume notes invading your nose, lights flashing your eyes as the loud music rang in your ears and drummed on your feet.
Carlos carefully guided you through the people - the less crowded zone helping your movements -, always keeping you close as he looked for Pedro and Álvaro.
"Hey! You finally made it!", Pedro said as he greeted you, "Y/N, fancy sering you here! You look amazing as always", he complimented your black pants and emerald green one shoulder top outfit.
"Hi, I'm Vini - playing her tonight -, have we met before?", he asked after he pulled you for a half hug.
"I don't think so, no, I'm Y/N", you smiled at his kindness and welcoming demeanour.
"You weren't joking when you said you were going to bring special company tonight", the DJ nudged Carlos with his elbow before fistbumping his hand.
"My special lady only goes out when the music is really good, so you should feel honoured, amigo", Carlos tsked, kissing the side of your head and smiling down at you. He was so happy you were there with him.
"The bar is over there, c'mon! Let's go and get something", Pedro suggested, leading the way with Vini right behind him as Carlos' hands squeezed your waist again as he guided you to the bar, occasionally nodding to acquaintances you two bumped into.
Getting yourself a drink and Carlos grabbing something non-alcoholic for him, "I'm driving us both home tonight, I don't want to do anything irresponsible", he reasoned as the five of you engaged in conversation about the set Vini would be doing.
You had always been a kept to yourself type of person, not really letting people in until you knew for sure what their intentions were, but having Pedro, Álvaro and Carlos there gave you enough ease to chat with Vini too while you waited for them to go up to the booth.
Granted this wasn't your usual choice of plans, you had been out enough times to know what it entailed and what to expect, a lot of people you didn't know coming up to greet your boyfriend, some seeming closer friendships to him that others.
"Are you okay, amor? We'll have to go up in a bit, do you want to stay here or go up there?", he questioned.
"I need to go to the bathroom, I won't be long hopefully, but I can meet you up there when I come back - do you think that will be okay?", you wondered.
"Yes, of course! Just wave at me or Pedro if anyone gives you any trouble, hermosa", he kissed you, "I love you", he mumbled against your lips, squeezing your hips softly before Vini pulled on his arm.
On your way to the bathroom, you accidentally touched the railing on the stairs when you were set your cup down on the designated area, the liquid on it making your squirm a little as you held out your hand like you had touched poison. For all you knew, it could be something like that.
There were two girls waiting to use one of the stalls, prompting you to gently slot yourself in front of them, "sorry, but do you mind if go first just now? I just need to wash my hands and then I'll be back to the line", you asked politely as they nodded, the first one going to the stall that freed up and making room for you as the other girl stepped out. Her face was familiar as you took a glance in the mirror, and from the smile she gave you through the mirror, you assumed she probably recognised you too.
Washing your hands again when you came out of the stall, you walked to the bar and got yourself a bottle of water, noticing your boyfriend already pressing and tapping the buttons on the mixing table as everyone danced and many captured the moment on their phones while you waited. The booth looked tight and, truthfully, quite exposed, so you decided to stay where you had been previously, still able to enjoy yourself and dance while you watched Vini and Carlos.
Álvaro must've thought the same as he spotted you a few minutes later, twirling you around before he set his drink on the high table.
"Valeria!", Pedro yelled as the girl from the bathroom walked up to him and gave him a hug followed by another girl you assumed was her friend, introducing her to Pedro before turning to you.
"You're Y/N, right?", she asked, noticing your surprised expression, "sorry, I didn't mean to be so blunt - I'm Valeria, this is my friend Blanca", she introduced, "we bumped into you in the bathroom, and it looked like you knew who I was", she clarified, still noticing apprehension from you, "I know Carlos - we're acquaintances, I guess", she said.
"I'm so sorry, your face was familiar but I didn't know where from", you apoligised, "I kept going over in my head but I couldn't pinpoint where I knew you from", you gulped.
Up close and in the club environment, you were now sure of why her face was so familiar. She was one of the girls the gossip magazine page mentioned. She was gorgeous and from the way people greeted her, she seemed to attend many parties and nights out at that club.
"It's okay - Carlos has told me about you, by the way", she smiled before her friend pitched in, "it's so nice to finally see you here, it's a good thing you came here to see him. I didn't think it would suit you, but it does look like you're having a good time", Blanca offered before sipping from her drink.
"Yes, it's quite fun actually, Vini and Carlos are a good duo I'd say", you smiled, pushing the backhanded compliment to the back of your mind for now.
"Do you want something to drink, Y/N? I can get it for you!", Álvaro offered and you shook your head no, thanking him for his offer but politely declining as you saw him walk to the bar with Valeria.
"How has your night been, Y/N?", she tried to start up a conversation and appear put together even though it was clear she had drank over her limit, "I never see you here with Carlos - he usually hangs out with us when he isn't pretending to be a world famous DJ", she giggled, "so are you enjoying it? I know it's not really your scene".
"It's not my usual, no, but I enjoy a night out every now and again", you remained polite, "He's really happy when he does it and he gets to relax a little and forget his troubles for a bit, it's a good thing".
"He's really funny, yes, and charming too", she hiccuped, "I'm sure people come here for a good night out anyway, but I just know that most of these people here", she pointed to the people dancing, "are here for him because they know he enjoys a good party and they do too - I guess they're hoping their similar interests will cross paths", she smiled.
She was really trying to get to you, and much to your disappointment in yourself, she was successfully doing it.
"That's how he is wired, you know? Parties after parties, living it up with all the luxury he has access to, and at such a young age, he has everything on his fingertips, anyone even! It's just a matter of him choosing what he really wants", she added, straightening herself against the table when Valeria walked back with your boyfriend's brother.
"What were you two chatting about?", Valeria asked as she set the drinks on the table, Álvaro doing the same with his.
"I was just telling Y/N how it usually is around here, but tonight they've upped their game because Carlos is playing, look at him!", Blanca pointed at your boyfriend before she started dancing around.
"He's really fun at these functions", Valeria offered, "looks like it is something he enjoys doing", she said in an earnest tone, and for a few seconds, you wanted to believe she wasn't digging at you like her friend was and was just stating a fact.
Carlos had a big smile on his face. His skin was glowing both from his tan and the sheen of the sweat from how warm it was up there, occasionally holding Vini's hand when he hugged him from behind and rested his hand on his sternum. All troubles were put to a halt when he enjoyed his time off with friends doing things he loved.
Once the set was over and the speakers played what you assumed was some random playlist for the moment, Carlos and Vini came back to join you at the table, "did you enjoy it, Y/N?", Vini asked.
"I did, it was very good!", you smiled, feeling Carlos' hands on your waist.
He squeezed your hips before his mouth whispered on your ear, "Hi, mi amor" and kissed your neck.
"Did you stay here for the whole set?", he wondered.
"Yes, it looked a little cramped up in there so I stayed here with Pedro, Álvaro, then Valeria and Blanca joined us for a bit", you nodded with your eyes as Blanca seemed to notice your eyes on her, waving back at you and Carlos.
"Oh, Valeria - she's nice, I met her girlfriend the last time I was here - so that's her friend?", he mused turning fully around to face you.
"Should be, we didn't really talk much", you shrugged your shoulders.
"Did you really enjoy it, Y/N? You can say no and we'll be out of here of you don't want to stay", Carlos offered, "I myself am getting quite tired actually", he said as he rested his hand on top of his stomach.
"I did, you did really well up there, and you looked really handsome", you smirked, twirling a lock that fell on his forehead.
It didn't take long before people started leaving, the night already mostly done with after Carlos danced with you for a bit, noticing you seemed to also have spent most of your battery and were in deep need of going back home.
Bidding goodbye to everyone, you and Carlos made your way to his car as he drove you back to his apartment where you had planned to spend the night.
Taking your heels off and putting on your slippers, you waited for Carlos to lock the door and join you in the living room, thumbs fiddling with eachother.
Noticing your behaviour, Carlos knocked on the door and approached you gently, "You alright, baby? You've been quiet since before we left the club. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better? Is your tummy upset? Or is it your head", he listed the possible causes of your discomfort.
He was however missing the point. It seemed you both missed it until now. For you at least anyway, he still didn't notice it.
Better late than never.
"I'm not judging your choices, it's not my place and definitely not on this... but... do you think we work?", you questioned, your lips trembling slightly as all emotions seemed to come up. How different you were, how his interests weren't similar to yours, how his happiness was something you were getting in the way of.
"What do you mean if we work?", Carlos asked, genuinely not understanding your question.
"We're so different, Carlos. Your lifestyle has nothing similar to mine, and I'm not even talking about money - that's a pretty obvious one and something not most humans can do anyway -, I'm talking about being the soul of the party, always ready to go on to the next night out and plan everything surrounding it. I don't do nightlife like you do, I barely do it at all. And that's okay for me as it is okay for you with what you do", you clarified.
"What are you saying, Y/N?", he inquired, a new tone of defensiveness in his voice.
"I'm saying we don't fit together like that", you let the words out, your heart shattering as each syllable came out.
"Y/N, that doesn't mean anything", Carlos began, "sure, there are different interests that we don't have in common and that we don't share, but that doesn't make it not work between us! Why would it?", he argued, "it sounds to me like you're calling our relationship out because I like to go out and you don't and I don't agree with it".
"Carlos, it hurts, it's painful", you stated, tears falling from your eyes at your admission.
It caught him off guard and his brain shifted somewhere else. To the promise he made you and the promise he made himself. He would never make you hurt and he would never be the cause of your pain.
"Y/N, mi amor, we can talk about this better when we've gathered our thoughts", he tried even though any suggestion he could make would potentially increase your pain. And he couldn't bear to do that.
"No one would ever see you and see me and say that we were good together, it just took us longer to see what they have noticed so long ago - so much so that they think you deserve someone else", you murmured.
"But I don't need anyone else's opinion when I have you", he mused softly, wanting to take your hand in his but you still fiddled with your thumbs before wiping your cheeks.
"Y/N, I promise that whatever is going on in your head is not the truth - your mind is telling you awful lies. I love you so much and I don't think like that", he tried to reason, "That's not what we are".
"I want to go home", you gulped, "I'm going to get an Uber", you announced, looking at a broken Carlos.
"Can I drive you there, please?", he asked, himself feeling like prolonging the argument would only lead to worse but needing to make sure you felt he wouldn't give up, "I'd feel better being in charge of the car taking you home than anyone else at this time", he reasoned.
"You won't ask me anything else? Can we do it in silence?", you asked. The words had a bitter taste on your mouth like they didn't belong there. Chatting with Carlos was one of your favourite things in the world, hearing his voice and his giggles, those were the best sounds ever known to man.
"Okay, if that's how you want it", Carlos assured, grabbing his keys while you put your shoes back on along with your coat.
The drive to your apartment was agonisingly silent. Carlos wanted to ask you where this left your relationship, you wanted to ask him if what he said was true.
"We're here", Carlos announced, stopping the car and getting out, waiting for you to get out and meet him by the driver's seat door, "I- Y/N, is this goodbye?", he worked himself up to ask, "because I don't want that, we can talk about his and sort it out, please, this is what we do, mi amor", he pleaded.
"Can we talk about it another day? I can't think straight tonight, and I don't want to say things that will hurt you because of that", you suggested.
"Sure", Carlos sighed, "whenever you're ready. I love you, Y/N", he looked into your eyes, refraining from kissing your forehead even though that was all he wanted to do.
"Thank you, for this and for bringing me home, Carlitos, I love you", you looked back into his eyes.
He was hurt, too, and the last three words you said seemed to have brought anger to the mix as well. There was a grey hue and the sparkle was lost despite the moon glistening.
"Have a good night, hermosa, I love you more than words can say, and I will fight for you and for us, even if I'm the only one in the battlefield, I'll fight for both of us", he assured.
