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sinnerfreckleserve · 1 day ago

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Five in a Row

Jannik Sinner x Reader Jannik has a not so little challenge for reader... and you already know she's down. And they get right to business, back to back to back to back to back ... Warnings include... basically no plot only unrealistic smut tbh, female-bodied reader, oral, fingering, female receiving, over-stimulation

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Stretched out on the hotel bed, you laid in one of Jannik’s old tournament shirts with your legs tangled in the covers, idly flipping through your book. He had just come out of the shower, towel slung low on his hips, hair damp and curling at the ends. He caught your eye as he passed by the foot of the bed, and without even thinking, you let your gaze drop and linger.

He caught it. Of course he did.

“What?” he said, a knowing smirk tugging at his mouth as he dropped the towel and reached for a pair of briefs.

"Nothing” You shrugged, smug. “Just thinking you’ve been acting a little cocky lately."

"Cocky?" He shot you a look. “Me?”

"Yeah," you said, leaning into the bit, you set your book down open-faced to really look at him. "Winning matches—What is it? Like five in a row now? In this tournament alone? I worry pretty soon you might walk around like you own the place."

Laughing, he crossed back over to the bed, still shirtless, and braced one knee on the mattress beside you, setting your book off to the side. "Like I own the place?"

You nodded solemnly, but tilted your head back for him as he leaned in closer.

"I think you’ve got it all wrong," he murmured, brushing your hair off your neck, "I have good reason to be so confident. I’ve had you with me all week."

You lifted a brow. "So this is about me?"

"Everything is about you."

It should’ve sounded cheesy, and it might have made you laugh in any other context, but from Jannik—warm and understated, said as his fingers trailed lightly up the side of your thigh—it made your breath hitch.

You curled your legs under you as he shifted to hover above you, pressing a kiss just below your jaw.

"I’ve been thinking," he murmured into your skin, voice low and edged with amusement. "I wonder what my winning streak with you would look like?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” You laughed a little at his obscurity, and reached behind his head to bury your fingers in his hair.

He took a second to answer, kissing you long and deep before he did. “I want to see how many times I can make you come tonight."

You scoffed a laugh, it dissolved into a shiver as his mouth moved lower, but you managed to scarf out a little quip anyways. "You’re talking big, Sinner."

"I mean it," he said, already moving like he planned to prove it.

You looked up at him through your lower lashes. "What? Should I take this as a challenge?"

“Maybe,” he smiled against your collarbone. "If that’ll help you keep up."

The heat building so quickly made you squirm a little, but you chuckled despite yourself. “Well, I don’t know the rules here, but I’m going to win.”

And just like that, your book long-forgotten on the nightstand, your body was arching into his touch as the teasing melted into something deeper, steadier—something intentional, and driven.

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The first time was unhurried—familiar in the way he touched you, each brush of his fingers was part of a blueprint he already knew by heart. He began by easing your thighs apart, settling between them with a kind of reverence that never stopped making you feel undone. His hands gripped just beneath your knees, holding you open, steady, as he leaned in to kiss the soft skin at the top of your thigh.

His mouth was warm and slow, trailing slowly from one leg to the other, then up—closer. When his lips finally met you fully, you gasped, back arching just slightly, the heat of his tongue and the slow pressure of his mouth sending sparks up your spine. He knew just how you liked it—how to circle just right, when to press firm, when to pull back and let the absence drive you wild.

Your fingers found the edge of the sheets, gripping hard, and your breath turned stuttered, uneven. He glanced up at you briefly, eyes dark and focused, before settling back in with renewed purpose. One hand slid up to hold your stomach gently in place, while the other traced your hip, grounding you as your thighs began to tremble.

When he lowered that hand to slip two fingers inside you, soft and sure, curling just slightly as he moved in rhythm with his mouth, the moan that escaped you was sharp and sudden. He hummed and adjusted instinctively, drawing another sound from your lips. Your heels pressed into the mattress, your hips chasing more, and he gave it—gave all of it, murmuring softly between strokes, coaxing you closer.

The tension built fast, coiled tight inside you until your whole body strained against the pressure. And when it snapped—steep and fast—he didn’t stop. He rode the wave with you, his hands holding you together and apart all at once, his mouth slowing only as your cries faded into broken sighs.

He kissed the inside of your thigh again, more of a peck this time, his hands gentle as they released their grip. You felt his breath against your skin, steady and dutiful, like he needed a moment too.

The second came quicker—less careful, more heated. You were still catching your breath when he moved up your body, coaxing your legs around his waist, his skin warm and slick against yours. His hands were everywhere—anchored behind your knees, tracing your ribs, smoothing over the arch of your back as he pressed closer.

He kissed you like that was all he needed—mouth hot, tongue slow, teeth catching your bottom lip just enough to make your hips buck in response. You clutched at his shoulders, grounding yourself in the pull of his body against yours, the way he filled every space you gave him.

When he finally sank into you, you both stilled. Your breath caught—his did too. His forehead rested against yours for a long moment, one of his hands sliding beneath the back of your knee, lifting your leg just slightly to shift the angle. You gasped when he moved again, a rough exhale escaping him at the sound.

"Too much?" he murmured, but he didn’t need the answer—not when your hips rolled to meet his, not when your nails dug into the planes of his back like you were trying to hold the moment in place.

He found a rhythm quickly—deeper now, surer. Every thrust was a full-body motion, his hands adjusting to where you needed him most, holding you open and close. The wet slide of skin, the way he groaned low every time your walls clenched around him, the soft, desperate sounds you couldn’t suppress—they filled the room so thick that even the whole world seemed to just narrow to the two of you.

The wave crested faster this time. When your body arched again, chasing friction, he met you there without hesitation. So it crashed through you before you could warn him, your body bracing tight, head thrown back, another unrestrained cry slipping out. He didn’t slow—he held you through it, one hand tangled in yours by your head, the other gripping your waist, chasing his own release just behind yours.

You were still coming down when he collapsed beside you, hand never leaving your thigh, thumb stroking idle circles into your skin as you caught your breath.

The third time unfolded more slowly again, but with a deeper, more intimate heat. You were still catching your breath, muscles loose and limbs heavy when Jannik shifted beside you. He didn’t speak—just leaned in and pressed his lips to your shoulder, his hand trailing down the dip of your waist.

You felt the heat radiating off of his hand before he even touched you there fully, his fingers trailing between your legs. And when he found you still sensitive, still warm and pliant, he sucked in a breath.

You turned your face toward him, lips parting as your eyes met. "Again?"

"You’re not done," he said simply. "I can feel it."

And then he was kissing you—slow, inebriating kisses that deepened as his fingers moved lower, parting you with practiced ease. He slipped two fingers inside you, curling them upward until your hips twitched in response. His palm pressed flat against you, thumb brushing steady circles over your clit, gradually building pressure as your thighs instinctively tensed.

Your gasp caught between your lips and his, a sharp intake of breath as your hands clutched his forearm. He adjusted—curling his fingers just right, angling his wrist to drive the sensation deeper. Every stroke sent a jolt through your core, your body arching into him, leaning into pressure.

His thumb never faltered, dragging over you in constant, coaxing circles, synced with each movement inside you. He was quiet, attentive—watching you with heavy-lidded eyes, waiting for every reaction, every shiver, every breathy moan that spilled past your lips.

His mouth dropped to your neck, hot and open, teeth grazing gently as he murmured low praise that vibrated into your skin. He spoke softly into your skin, not in full sentences this time but fragments—your name, how good you felt, how much he loved seeing you like this.

"Don’t hold back," he said, and then you couldn’t anymore.

The third orgasm rolled through you like a slow-building wave, different from the ones before—less of a crash, more of a flood. Your body arched into his hand, thighs tensing around his wrist as your hands flew to his chest, fingers pressing hard against him as if to anchor yourself.

He kept going until you whimpered, until the tremors subsided and your head lolled back into the pillow, boneless. He slowed, then stilled, brushing a kiss to the center of your chest as you blinked up at him, dazed and flushed.

He kissed your temple and murmured praise that blurred into your hair—steady, grounding, full of awe. He cradled you close, his hand stroking up and down your arm, his breath warm where he tucked his face into your neck as your body hummed, every nerve of yours drawn taut.

"Still okay?" he’d murmured, and even when you nodded, he took a long moment to restart. He let you settle, his lips finding yours in a slower rhythm.

You pushed him back for a second, at his lack of pace, and kissed his jaw, murmuring, "One more."

"You’re still trembling," he whispered, but a smile was growing on his face at your eagerness.

“Thought you weren’t one to give up so easily, huh?” And you pulled his hand down, immediately gasping at the contact, but sticking with your adamance.

Jannik was outright grinning now, and you both let out a little laugh at your visceral reaction—his, low and amused as he looked at you splayed out and blissed-out, and yours, breathy and disbelieving. But when his fingers fluttered where you’d placed them, you didn’t stop him—and when your eyes rolled shut at the touch, he leaned in with a kind of hunger that replaced all hesitation.

This time, he guided you onto your stomach, one hand sliding under your hips to pull them up gently, elevating you just enough for him to settle behind. His body pressed against your back, his weight grounding, comforting. The hand beneath you moved slowly at first, fingers slipping through your slick folds with practiced care. He circled your clit with the lightest touch, drawing a breathless sound from you as your thighs clenched instinctively.

Then he pushed two fingers inside, angling his hand so that every stroke dragged upward, catching a spot that made your hips rock back into him with a soft, broken moan. He picked up on it instantly—adjusting, driving deeper, curling his fingers deliberately while his thumb found a rhythm against your clit that had you all but biting into the pillow.

His mouth pressed hot against your shoulder blade, and you felt him smile into your skin as he moved. "So sensitive," he murmured. "Like I just have to touch you here—"

He curled again, just right, and your entire body jolted.

"—and you can’t help yourself."

You tried to speak, to answer, but your voice cracked into a moan. He stayed steady behind you, his body firm along your back, one arm braced beside your shoulder, the other still working you open with maddening precision.

And then another crept up—your breath hitching, your hips jerking back against his hand, your thighs starting to tremble again—the fourth wave slammed through you. You cried out into the pillow, body bowing, and he held you through it—his hand never leaving your body, his voice soothing against your ear, calling you back down with each gentle stroke.

When your body finally stilled, he kissed the base of your neck and whispered, "Still with me?"

And you nodded, barely able to find your voice through the haze. He pressed gentle kisses to your forehead and to the side of your mouth as he laid beside you, whispering praise as his hand smoothed along your rib cage until your breath returned to normal. He didn’t reach for more, ready to wind down, but then you tugged at his wrist.

He shifted beside you at the signal and murmured, "More?"

When you blinked yes with a dazed smile and single nod, he smiled, too. Soft and wicked. "Come here."

That fifth time was slower still—him lying back and drawing you over him, letting you set the pace. He guided your hips with hands warm and steady, not directing but encouraging, thumbs brushing your waist as you sank onto him, inch by inch. It took you a long moment to adjust, as stimulated and shaky as you were.

You exhaled a shivering breath, the stretch still so full despite how many times he’d already had you tonight. He groaned softly as you settled against him, hands resting low on your back. You moved tentatively at first, still sensitive, still aching in the best way, but Jannik met each roll of your hips with a low hum of pleasure, eyes half-lidded and focused entirely on you.

He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "There you go," he murmured. "Just like that."

Each grind drew out a new sound from your throat, your body stretched over his as you built the rhythm. His hands didn’t stop moving—one trailing up your spine, the other cupping your breast, brushing his thumb softly over your nipple until you gasped and shivered.

You leaned down to kiss him, sweet and soft, your hips never breaking pace. The kiss turned hungry fast—teeth grazing, tongues tangling—as your body leaned into the growing friction. He matched it with soft groans against your mouth, his hands tightening just slightly every time you clenched around him.

It was when he finished, with a choked groan into your ear and the faltering of his hips, that you felt yourself close again. You buried your face in his neck, moaning low as your body trembled from head to toe. He held you there, letting you shake apart over him, murmuring your name for the nth time that night. You whimpered into his shoulder, clutching at him as the wave crashed through you one last time.

You collapsed against him, flushed and glowing, and he held you there, kissing your shoulder and stroking slow lines up and down your back. Letting the silence of the moment settle between your breaths.

By now, the night had melted into early morning, you lay tangled in the sheets, breathing ragged, his fingers trailing lazily down your side. Every part of you ached, in the best way. Your skin buzzed, sensitive and flushed from everything he’d given you. The sheets were half-kicked off, your legs tangled with his, your cheek resting against the bare skin of his chest where it rose and fell with each slow breath.

Neither of you spoke for a while. He just held you close, fingers sketching idle shapes into your back. Occasionally, he would press a soft kiss to your hairline, the bridge of your nose, the slope of your shoulder—each one slow, quiet, unrushed.

You eventually shifted slightly to move just partially off of him, draping an arm across his stomach, your voice muffled against his skin. "I feel like I won that—just for the record."

He chuckled, low and warm. "Won what?"

“The challenge,” you sighed dramatically, stating the obvious. "You almost stopped short a couple times there… and you would’ve, had I not intervened."

“No—I for sure won.” He grinned into your hair and gave your hip a playful squeeze, pulling you in tighter. “Tell me, how are your legs feeling?”

"... I’m going to be useless tomorrow."

"Exactly." He chuckled, low and warm. “So, I won.”

"I say we call it a draw," you whispered, starting to fall asleep with each breath, your voice soft with exhaustion but a smile tugging at the edges. Jannik pulled you closer, tucking his chin onto the top of your head, and smiling as you mumbled one last, barely conscious line before drifting off. “Can’t let you get too cocky on me...”

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Don't know if this humanly possible for most, and I don't care... this was just fun to write and, uh, hopefully fun to read... lmk! xx

#reads inês recommends

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sinnerfreckleserve · 13 days ago

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Straight from the heart (Carlos Alcaraz)

You and Carlos are having a hard time in your relationship and you don't know if you can make it out

Note: english is not my first language. This is inspired by a piece that I loved writing a while ago, so I adapted it to tennis! It's longer than I usually write, but I promise this has a happy ending!! Also, first time writing for Carlos (had this for Jannik at the start, but it felt more like a Carlos piece)!

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!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions reader's and Carlos' relationship struggles, curse words, it's angsty at first

The result on the screen was not the one you hoped. Carlos had a wonderful match, fighting and continuing to play with maximum effort, but the last set granted the win to Jannik.

"Is the match over?", you mother asked as she stepped inside the living room, carrying the curtains she had left out to dry and proceeding to hang them back in their place.

"Yes, just now", your father said as he adjusted the volume on the TV, "let me help you, dear", he offered, getting up and standing beside your mum in case she got off balance.

"Are you going to call Carlos?", your mother asked once her squinty eyes read the results of the overall match. Even though the prescription glasses were on the table, she insisted she didn't want any mishaps after she accidentally dropped her last pair while she was gardening and one of your younger cousins found a rusty frame a couple of months later when she was over.

"I'm not, I don't think - he should be flying back tonight and I don't want to bother him", you blurted defensively, making up excuses as you went along with your answer, "he's doing the interviews and packing up - he will need his rest to fly back", you stated as you got up, "I have to check on the project I handed in on Friday, the professor said he would post the grades around this time and if we want to appeal, we have to do it right away - I'll be in my bedroom".

The subject was an open wound that stung everytime you so much heard a mention of it, let one having to seem completely okay with it when it ripped through your heart.

The calendar on your wall is full of stickers, both with notes, urgent matters and things you couldn't forget. It's the last stretch, you tell yourself, one more week and then it's done and you'll have a well deserved break.

A knock on your door catches your attention as you reply with the allowance to let whoever is on the other side in, "is something wrong?", you asked.

Lately, the negative side of your mind was the first one to speak, so you naturally wondered what was the issue.

"That's what I want to ask you - that conversation we just had downstairs was not your usual self", she sighed as she pointed to the living room, "I've noticed you haven't mentioned him much, but I don't want to intrude or offer my help because I know you don't like meddling", your mother looked for your eyes before you could fully focus on the wooden floor.

"Things have been rough between us lately", you sighed, "Carlos is keeping me at a distance, and I don't know the reason why, mum", you shrugged, "I don't know if it's because I've known him all my life and the comparison is so deep, but it seems he only cares about tennis and his friends, and I'm nowhere in the mix. We rarely call eachother, no texting - I know these smaller tournaments are still intense, but all I got from him were reactions to my stories and a little video from Alvaro where he's in it and said something to me", you recalled, "I can't be the only one making an effort, can I? Either he has already realised where this is going and we catch it while we can, or I don't know where this is going, I don't know where we're going".

Your mother's heart broke as she saw you allow the tears you had held on to fall freely, your sleeves bunched up on your hands to wipe them, "and did you talk about this? A long, grown up and serious conversation?", she mused.

"We have barely been with eachother, mum!", you whispered shakily as more tears got caught on your throat. For someone who didn't cry often, this showed it meant something to you.

"Couples go through phases, darling - do you think it was all smooth sailing with me and your father?", she tried to get you to smile as she brushed your hair while she hugged you, "you need to talk to eachother, seriously and let it all out, nothing is off limits because that's how you'll get to where you need to".

You kept your head on your mother's chest, accepting her comforting hold despite being an adult. A mother's hold was truly the best.

You hoped she was right and this was something that would pass. A rough patch that you and Carlos would work through and look back on with a sense of accomplishment.

This wasn't how you and Carlos end, is it?

Álvaro and Carlos, along with his team, headed for the plane as soon as they left the hotel, having made prior arrangements to had their luggage there waiting for them once they arrived. Álvaro was the first to sit down and get himself comfortable on the seat, texting their mother to let her know they were departing.

"Y/N hasn't called or even texted me, nothing", Carlos mumbled, "didn't she watch the match? Doesn't she know that I need her?".

Álvaro weighed in the good and the bad that his next few words could do. He could either be honest and encourage his brother to finally come to his senses, or keep covering the lie and perpetuate the suffering and miscommunications.

"This is not how I wanted to do this - truth be told, I never wanted to have to do it", Álvaro rambled off.

Carlos was quick to notice that there was more to it than just this instance, "you know something - she's my girlfriend, Álvaro, if something is happening, I deserve to know", he said in an antsy tone.

"Are you really so blind to it? Have you not noticed it yet? Damn it, Carlos, I've been on your side, trying to clean it up and now I'm questioning it", Álvaro declared as Carlos only grew more confused.

"What am I missing, Álvaro?", Carlos snapped, even catching his own self off guard at the reaction he had.

"Think about the last couple of months and whether or not you have been a good boyfriend, or even the boyfriend Y/N deserves", Álvaro offered.

Carlos wasn't expecting that answer or point of view.

The last couple of months roll through his memory as if he's watching a movie and when he tries to select the moments he spent with you, he finds himself struggling to gather any at all. He can't remember any of the times you spent together, and considering his memory isn't that bad, it could only mean those moments didn't even happen. Thinking about it, he can remember the last time he held you in his arms, just the two of you.

"Fucking hell", Carlos whispered out, "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!", he snapped as he punched the arm rest.

"Glad you figured than one out almost all on your own", Álvaro tsked, "do you really think you deserve any interaction from Y/N?", he muttered. He didn't like the situation his friend and brother found themselves in, and he certainly didn't feel any joy in the words he told Carlos, but the truth wasn't always easy to hear.

"Seems Y/N doesn't think so either", Carlos mumbled, "do you know anything? Has she told you anything?".

He wasn't sure he deserved to know, but he needed to.

"The last time I spoke to her she didn't say anything - you know how Y/N doesn't want to bother anyone with her things and getting information from her is harder than getting water from a rock", Álvaro reasoned, "but from what I can tell, Y/N has really taken a toll because of this, Alba is always quite upset whenever it comes up", Álvaro offered as he had spoken to a mutual friend and the matter came up. Quite upset wouldn't cover it, so much so that, unbeknownst to Carlos, the last couple of times Alba couldn't join them for their plans was an orchestrated excuse from her to avoid being in the same room as the tennis player.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!", Carlos groaned into his hands, "how could I not realise this was happening?".

"You want the honest, blunt truth?", Álvaro asked and Carlos nodded, "I know it's your job, but lately, it's all been about tennis, and I think you've neglected Y/N ", he offered.

The rise had come slowly, but in such a powerful manner. From the young boy who loved tennis to being inthe ATP's podium, Carlos' lifestyle changed a lot, and when you added sponsor dinners, public relations meetings, and brand deals, it seemed he had indirectly alienated everyone in his life that wasn't directly a part of those.

It wasn't intentional, but it didn't mean that it didn't hurt. And by the looks of it, the person Carlos loved and cared about most was also the one he hurt the most.

They both sat in silence as the Spanish tennis player thought about all of it. Things got so good that he didn't look back, he worked his hardest and gave every piece of himself to the cause and the new territory he was paving. Being on the top step was a common feature for him, and the wins were there, up for grabs and he wanted them. Yet, he had been dazzled by it and had let himself fly higher, his characteristic "both head and feet on the ground" posture no longer present and resulting in a degree of neglection for the things and people thay mattered to him.

"How did I push away the most important person in my life and I'm just now realizing this?", Carlos asked, not really expecting an answer, but rather to let out all the frustration that boiled inside him, anger soon following at his late realisation, "what's worse is that I've only come to realise this because you had to tell me - stupid, stupid, stupid".

"I don't know what you want me to tell you, mate, and frankly there isn't much I can, but look on the bright side: now you have a chance to fix it", Álvaro tried to comfort his younger brother.

"What if it's too late? What if Y/N doesn't want to be with me anymore?", Carlos voices his deepest fear. What if the anger had finally got to you and you wanted to call it quits?

"Wouldn't you be able to understand that? I don't think that is the case - I've never seen two people who love eachtoher more than you two, it's as disgusting as it it lovely most times. And even though she might feel angry or hurt, I believe she has it in her to forgive you", Álvaro states.

"I hope you're right", Carlos sighed as he tapped his phone, his finger hovering over your contact.

"I wouldn't do that", Álvaro chirped, "you should rest before diving into anything about that topic, and today has had too many emotions as it is. Tomorrow is a new day for you to think about it", he advised.

With his head on the headrest, Carlos went over everything that occupied his mind, allowing the heavy sinking feeling to settle in. To a degree, he deserved the discomfort he felt. Shame, guilt, frustration, remorse, embarrassment, overwhelm, sadness.

What if he had destroyed the thing that made him the happiest? If I managed to single out the person who loved him for him?

From Carlitos 🎾🫶

Hello. You were probably expecting a text or a call, but the last few days haven't been easy and I needed to ground myself a little. We really need to talk, Y/N. Do you think we can grab lunch today?

It irritated you how quick your heart was beating the minute you saw who sent you the text after you submitted all the projects that you had left. Battling an inner fight of whether or not you should answer it, you decided to so it. Rip the band-aid off, Y/N.

To Carlitos 🎾🫶

Hello... We do urgently need to talk. I'm on my own today - where do you want to go?

Your tone was cold and unusual when you compared it to the older messages, filled with hearts and the pet names you had for eachother.

We can go to that café by the marina, the one with the paninis you really like.

Yes, we'll meet here at one pm.

Do you want me to pick you up, Y/N?

No, I'll walk.

Your sunglasses are good enough to hide the nervous gloom on them as you walked to the marina. There is no script or guideline to go about this lunch other than honesty and finally admitting everything you were feeling. It could go either way and, truth be told, you believed it would go down the way it was supposed to.

Stepping on the wooden path to the small café's outside area, you looked for the boy whose arms were where you used to feel safe.

Carlos chose a table that overlooked the water, the warm sun shinning and bringing out the blue of it. It would be a big conversation, and while the café wasn't crowded, he never knew how things could pan out so he went for the most demure spot.

When you take a proper look at him, it surprises you. His eyes are not shiny like they usually are - there's a dark hue surrounding them along with sadness.

"Hey", you utter out to grab his attention.

The moment he faces you, you feel naked despite the summery dress you have on. All vulnerabilities exposed for the person who knows you best and who can read you like the back of his hand.

"Hello, hi", Carlos cleared his throat, "how have you been?".

Setting your bag on the chair, you shrugged, not ready to engage in casual chit chat.

"Do you already know what you are having?", he wondered.

"The italian panini and iced tea", you mumbled after looking at the menu he handed you, "have you ordered yet?", you mused before calling the waiter to do so.

The silence between you after the waiter left the table was painful and hard to digest. You avoided looking at his colourful eyes - once you did it, breaking down would be in an instant.

"We really need to talk, Y/N", Carlos says.

"Do you want to go first? Or shall I?", you asked bitterly, accepting his silence.

The waiter comes back with your orders. The café doesn't have a big menu and it's mostly empty, so the service was quick, "I hope you enjoy it!", he interrupted the tension filled moment.

"I recognise I need to apologize to you for all the things I did without realizing it an-", Carlos was cut off by you.

"Let me stop you there before this derails", you stated, "I'm here to have a serious, grown up conversation, so I'm not going to sit here and listen to dusty and beaten up childish excuses".

If the ground could sink him into it, Carlos would've accepted it gladly.

"It's a start that you have realised that something was wrong, but you can't excuse yourself on that, Carlos. Not when this situation has taken proportions that you can't fanthom - you can't get away with being sorry for not noticing what you were causing", you argued.

Carlos gave you a nod, "I'm still not sure about all the things that led us to this point and what it entails, and that's why I wanted you here. I don't want to be blind to it anymore - I want to get all of it so all the pieces make sense in my head. You probably won't believe it, Y/N, but I'm so lost in this. I feel like I've lived a parallel universe for the past couple of months", Carlos added all in one go.

"When did your feet come back to the ground?", you mused, "when did you feel like maybe things weren't the way they should be?". The curiosity was killing you, and the answer could very well do the last stab.

"When I lost that match", Carlos gulped, "I expected you to call and to hear your comforting words, and they never came. Álvaro was the one to bring my mind to the matter", he admitted and you could see he was the opposite of proud of his own actions, "How I've been the worst boyfriend in the world and how I deserved that you didn't call - hell, I'm not even sure if I deserve that you're here today and willing to listen to what I have to say".

It's difficult to maintain a tough appearance and pretend that his words don't affect you, but alas, you keep your armour on.

"That afternoon was a struggle for me, Carlos. I wanted nothing more than to call you and hear your voice, silence your concerns and negative thoughts, let you know that you're the best player out there and that a bad match doesn't define you. That it wasn't your fault and that you shouldn't beat yourself up because of it, that I was still so proud of you and how you handled things and that nothing could keep me from shouting to the rooftops. But you didn't deserve it, my dignity has been punched by your actions day in day out for the past couple of months and I couldn't take it anymore".

"I need you to hear things from your side, I need to know your perspective so I can understand what I did wrong and if I'm able to fix it still", Carlos asks desperately.

"We should start from the beggining then", you laced your hands on top of the table after taking a bite of your panini, "I think it was at the end of the US Open - at the time it didn't seem like it, but looking at it now, it was the start. I even took some time off and travelled with you so we could enjoy your small break, then I came back for university. It's never easy, I know, but up until then we never had any issues with it - even if it was a bloody run, we made time for eachother. Then, you barely texted, let alone call - but all relationships hit rough patches and I thought that it was ours. Then Christmas came around and we finally felt like us again, there were no work or uni commitments, and it was bliss. After that, life happened again and I couldn't find a way to spend time with you - there was always promotion video to film or a meeting or some event. You went to Ibiza and despite the fact that I didn't have any exams and could easily do university stuff remotely - like I do everytime - you didn't even think to ask me if I wanted to go or if I had planned something for us in the first place. I just took it for granted that you would spend it with me, but when Alba showed me the photos I looked like a fool and an ungrateful friend and girlfriend because I stayed back, Carlos. I never felt so humiliated. Pedro, Germán, Sergio, all of our friends had their girlfriends and you didn't, you ignored me as if I didn't matter to you", you breathed out. Ruminating was one thing, talking about it out loud was another. The latter angered you less and hurt more.

"I'm sorry", Carlos murmured and you were quick to shoot it down.

"I don't need you to apologize now, Carlos. What I needed was for you to make a decision then, one that considered me and what I wanted", you sighed, wiping a stubborn tear that got out, "after that, I just watched you pull further and further away, and I tried to get closer, work things out, but you wouldn't let me in. You floated and floated and I stayed here, both feet stuck to the ground as I watched you go higher and higher. You were never like this, letting things get to your head wasn't something you ever did, but it happened. You alienated me in such a way that for this triple header, I didn't hear your voice once unless it was from the TV or your social media. You only wanted to call when you needed comfort, and it hurts that it took your brother to help you see things the way they are", you state as tears fell uncontrollably down your cheeks.

Apart from your earlier bite, both wooden serving boards look full and no one made a move to go further.

"You told me time and time again that you would always be there for me, but when I was the one needing a cuddle and reassuring words, I was all alone in my bedroom, crying because of you. When you said you'd be there for me, I guess you failed to account for the fact that you can't protect me from yourself... Because what hurt me these past couple of months was you", you declared, sniffling and, finally, looking into Carlos' swollen and tear-filled eyes.

The tears Carlos had been holding back fell. He was angry with himself, at how he had done the one thing he promise not to do to you. He made you hurt, he was the reason you were in pain and he couldn't keep you from feeling it.

"I wish I could tell you there was a reason behind it and that it all has some justification, but there isn't and I can't lie to you. I was propelled from the results and the promise that this could be the year and everything else faded away. I know it's not any help, but I'm not proud of what I did, and definitely not proud of the way I made you hurt - I wish I could turn back time and do it differently", Carlos confessed.

"I needed you, Carlos", you bit back.

Carlos couldn't find any words after that and once you began eating the now cold panini, he followed your movements, granting you the quietest meal you ever shared with him. Carlos was playful, loud, cheery and giggly on any other day. As much as it nagged you that your words were the ones to dim that light, you had to put yourself first. Someone had to.

"Can we walk along the marina?", Carlos asked once you finished eating, earning your nod to his surprise.

You both get up, Carlos paying for your meal at the front before you left the establishment. You walked along, looking at the luxurious boats and yachts before you found a part of the wall that you was comfortable enough to sit on, remaining in silence as you watched a couple of people unlock their yachts and sailing away.

Carlos wanted to say something, to prove to you that he was sorry and that he still loves you more than anything, but the fear of saying the wrong thing and hurting you even deeper was not something he wanted to risk.

"You're going to break up with me, aren't you?", Carlos voiced the biggest worry on his mind since he left his apartment.

"I walked here, so I had time to think about all of this, and all I could think was that I was going to meet you there, be reminded of all the pain you made me feel, and then we wouldn't see a solution to this. And on my way here, it got harder because I passed by the shop where we always go for ensaimadas when we were kids, and then that park where I tripped and you carried me home because of my bruised knee even though I could walk just fine, the bench where we shared ice cream. And when I arrived at the café and saw you, I knew there was no way I could do it", you half smiled.

"I struggled to see what was happening, and I didn't see what was clearly in front of me, and I know I can't undo all of the crap that I've made", Carlos pointed out, "but I can say that I love you, Y/N. I love you even more than when I asked you to be my girlfriend, which I never thought was possible, but everyday I love you a little bit more. I know I won't be able to love anyone the way I love you and, honestly, I'm not sure who I am without you, because I've turned into a person I don't recognise anymore and I'm afraid that if I don't have you around, this is the real me, and I don't like it. You make me a better person - since day one! I'll love you forever, but I also understand that you don't need this pressure in your life and that you want us to be over. I deserve that", Carlos mumbled.

As much as the idea of not being with you hurt him, he knew it didn't equate to the pain he caused you hence why he deserved it if you dumped him.

"You're making it so hard", you groaned rubbing your temples, "I would have been so much easier if you had told me that you didn't care about this, that you didn't care about me anymore".

"That's never going to happen, Y/N", Carlos assured you.

"It would be so much easier if I told you to fuck yourself off, wouldn't it?", you chuckled and Carlos got to see a small glimpse of the world's best smile, "but I can't do it - I do think, though, that we need to take some time, for both of us to work on our own things", you suggested.

"I get it, you can have all the time and space you need, Y/N", Carlos nodded, "would it be too much to ask if I asked you for another shot?", he wondered as you quirked an eyebrow.

"I just asked you for some time", you tried.

"I know you, and I'll give it to you, but I'm not going to let you entertain the thought that I don't care about you or that I don't love you any longer. I'm still the same person you met all those years ago and I want to remind you why you fell in love with me in the first place - if that's even the case", he blurted, "please".

"Slow steps, okay?", you mused with a small small.

"Is it still the case?", Carlos picked up where he left off, "are you still in love with me?".

"If I wasn't in love with you and if I didn't love you, trust me, I wouldn't be here", you smiled, squeezing his hand in yours on top of the warm stone.

Over the last couple of days, you felt lighter. University was finally over for the semester and you could rest, and the whole situation with Carlos was better. Even though it hurt to tell him all of those things and see his reaction, and even if Carlos still had a lot to make up for, you had to admit you didn't expect to feel like this right away. The right path was being trailed and you couldn't feel more at peace with it.

So far, he kept his respectful distance, which didn't mean that you didn't know he was there. Two days after you met him in the marina, Carlos sent you a bunch of flowers to your doorstep, your mother being the one to bring them up to your bedroom since she was arriving from work as the delivery man was about to knock on the door, smirking when she saw who they were from.

You were getting ready to go out for a picnic with Carlos. The sunny day invited you to go out and Carlos seemed to think the same, sending you a quick text with the location and plan ideas.

"Where are you off to?", your mother asked as she noticed you looking for your hat, "you look very nice, dear".

"Carlos invited me for a picnic", you offered her a smile despite the butterfly feeling on your tummy.

"I'm glad you're working things out, Y/N - I know how much you care about him. And even if he hurt you, he's doing the work to get you back - a lot of men would just give up, but not Carlos", your mother nudged. She always liked him despite her initial concerns when he moved up the tennis ladder and the toll it would take on you. For a brief moment, she was upset that she had been right, but she never lost the hope that the young man dating her dating would fight for them and for her. For you.

"I'm not sure how long I'll be out, but if I'm not home for dinner, don't worry too much", you added, waving at her before closing the door.

You drove yourself to the park, politely declining Carlos' offer to pick you up. As you followed the directions, you spotted Carlos under one of the trees, seemingly battling with the corner of the picnic blanket.

"Hey, need help with that?", you called as you approached him, noticing his flustered face at getting caught.

"Hey! It's fine, it's fine", he dusted off his shorts, "I didn't fold the corner properly, never mind iron this", he grumbled.

"We're going to sit on it, I don't think we needed it ironed", you smiled, setting your bag on the blanket and occupying the space that wasn't covered with glass containers and pape bags, noticing the logo of your favourite bakery and the sweets shop near Carlos' place.

"So, I baked these - who knew my oven works, hm?", he joked as he pulled out some granola bars that smelled delicious, "mama gave me the recipe, but I made them! She says they don't have any harmful raw ingredients in them so there's no danger if they're not cooked properly".

"You could've told me to bring something too", you sighed, "you had all this trouble and I'm just going to sit here and eat it", you reasoned.

"I think we've gathered that I deserve all this trouble, even though I didn't mind doing it - I think I finally get it when people say they find baking relaxing, even if I just threw some oats and syrup on a bowl with nuts and chocoate", Carlos shrugged, "she had a recipe with dates and raisins, but I didn't make it because you don't like them".

You smiled at his antics, "this looks lovely, 'litos - thank you", before you grabbed a paper napkin to grab the food.

Carlos' heart did a little backflip at the pet name - when he thought about it, he can't remember the last time you called him anything other than his name.

He wiped the thought away as he noticed you get one of the paper bags, "It was no trouble, but I did have to make sure the lady at the pastry shop knew I was the next in line because there was this lady, you should've seen her, she was, like, eighty? I don't know, maybe more than that, and she was very fancy, saying something about having her nephews over or whatever, and I was like 'no can do, lady! I need to get these ensaimadas for my girlfri- for Y/N because they're her favourites' - I bet she wanted to get them first but I did!", he dramatised the scene, earning your loud laugh. How much he missed that sound.

"Seems like it was a little troublesome, though", you teased. Inside your chest, your heart beat fast at his efforts.

"You're worth it", he smiled before taking a bite of the granola bar, "not to toot my own horn, but this is amazing! Try these!", he offered, forming a shell with his hand before he brought it up to your mouth.

For anyone else, this would be just another set of cute behaviours, but for you, it carried a sense of intimacy you hadn't felt in a while. Taking a bite of it and chewing, you had to admit the balance of the nutty taste and the chocolate was on point, "it is good! You should make granola bars more often!", you smiled.

Carlos smiled, eating the rest of it and looking at you. He would never be stupid again. He would never take you for granted.

The conversation flowed once you started eating, mainly pointing out the new swings in the park of the pretty blooms that were showing up, and even though you weren't acting like you would had it not happened, it was comfortable and Carlos had definitely put some effort into this.

"Thank you for this, Carlos", you smiled after you helped him clean up, making sure he wouldn't have any spills and trouble taking the rest home.

"It's alright, really", Carlos mumbled as blood rushed to his cheeks, "it wasn't much, but I wanted to make sure you remembered I'm still in and that I love you more than anything", he smiled, closing the basket and getting up with it to walk back to the car, "which actually brings me to an invite I want to make you", he went back to mumbling again.

The invite was a risk, he knew it. After all, it was the reason that got your relationship here in the first place. Yet, he wanted you there and he thought it would be good. Adding to it, it would be the way that he could make sure he was able to see you as it would be a busy day.

"What is it?", you asked as you walked with him.

"The day after tomorrow, we're going to the courts to play - Pedro and Alba are coming over for a few days, they arrive tomorrow - and I was wondering if you wanted to join us", he invited, "I know it's not the best environment to be in given al-", he started rambling.

"I'd love to go, Carlos", you assured, touching his arm confortingly, "I might need a ride though, if you don't mind doing the detour - my car is in the mechanic", you pointed out.

"It's fine, of course we'll pick you up!", he smiled, happy and excited at your answer.

"That's me", you nodded to your mother's car, unlocking it with the key, "thank you so much for this, I appreciate it a lot", you smiled, raising your stance so you could kiss his cheek, "will you text me the details when you know, please?".

"Yes! Absolutely!", he gave you a big smile again, "until then, Y/N!", he waved.

As Carlos walked back to his car, there was an extra spring up on his step, a new found energy and a smile that insisted on not disappearing from his lips.

Little by little, he was slowly getting you back.

"Why are we going this way?", Pedro asked as Carlos took the first exit on the roundabout, "isn't the court that way?".

Carlos couldn't contain his smile, "we're going to pick Y/N up first".

Pedro and Alba exchanged a look before the brunette woman spoke up, "you finally came to your senses?".

"Alba!", Pedro scolded his girlfriend.

"It's alright, Pedro - she's not wrong", Carlos added, "but yes, I have, and I'm working on it, respecting her but making sure she knows how much I regret it, how sorry and how bad I feel that it happened and how I'm trying my hardest to make sure it does happen again", Carlos turned around once he stopped at the red light, "Thank you for looking after her when I didn't, Alba. I know you have been there for her, so thank you for that", he added.

"She didn't deserve what you did to her, but I'm happy you figured it out and that you're working on it - I don't say it too often, but if you two ever broke up, I would consider that true love isn't a thing, what you two have is something else entirely", she smiled.

"Excuse me?!", Pedro dramatised, "what did you just say?".

"Did I lie, Pedro? Who was it that came home in a nervous fit without any fingernails because they bit all of them off after Álvaro told you that Carlos realised what happened? The same person who couldn't even sleep because of it? Who was it, hm?", she quesioned her boyfriend.

Carlos chuckled at his friends, thinking that they really had been made for one another, "you two make me look like the sanest person inside this car", he shook his head, pressing the pedal and turning into your street.

There you were, the person he was sure was made for him too. Your outfit was simple, consisting of black leggings, black trainers, a shirt sleeve polo and a cardigan on your arm.

"Hi guys!", you greeted, getting inside the car and kissing Alba's cheek before putting your seatbelt on.

"Why don't I get a kiss?", Pedro pouted.

"Because you stink, that's why", Carlos chirped in, "all ready to go back there?", he mused, sending you a wink from the rear view mirror.

Blushing, you nodded before looking at Alba again, accepting her hand in yours as she gave it a squeeze. For the whole drive to the tennis centre, you engaged light conversation, mainly listening to the plans they had for the clips they were filming before you could play just so you and Alba could happily play.

For the first segment, you stayed on the stands, watching the team get the equipment ready for filming the things

"How have you been, Y/N?", Alba asked as she handed you a bottle of water she had gone to her and taking a sip of her own.

"I've been well - university is finally done with and I can actually have a thought that doesn't involve it", you giggled, "and Carlos is home", you offered.

"Now, I wasn't going to be so blunt, but that is the subject I wanted to get at", she raised her eyebrows playfully.

"He's... Goodness, he's Carlos again, my Carlos", you sighed happily, "surely, it still stings a little and we need to work through our issues, but we're trailing our way through them. Learning our ways together - it's a bit like falling in love again and it's such a good feeling", you blushed at your admission, "it's doing us well and we're going with it, and not out of it", you smiled.

"Y/N", Alba cooed, "you have no idea how make that makes me! It's so good to see you so happy and hopeful", she squeezed your arm, "I was ready to avenge you on him, by the way, Álvaro and Pedro did us both a favour in telling him, because I was sure what I wanted to do to Carlos was considered a crime and I'm a good person", she raised her hands defensively.

Once the boys were done, Pedro waved at you to come down and meet them, giving them the time to clear the equipment and let you change.

Over the years, you had built a small collection of tennis clothes, opting to wear one of the skirts that felt more comfortable, noticing how, without meaning to, you matched Carlos in the colours of your clothes.

"Come here, I need to make sure you don't injure your wrist", Pedro called his girlfriend after she was fully equipped except the wrist bands.

You finished your braided ponytail before you looked for your racket, finding it in Carlos' hands, "let me grip it in case it goes flying somewhere", he smiled.

As you approached him, you could see his sudden nervousness at having you so close to him, strong hands pulling the material before he handed it to you, "good?", he wondered as his fingers gingerly touched yours.

"All good for you girls?", Pedro joked, getting an instant slap from Pietra before he got up.

"We'll warm up because it's not fair that you guys have been playing", you argued, "you know, besides the fact that he's in the ATP", you winked.

You and Alba started playing as Carlos and Pedro took the opportunity to rest a little bit.

"You and Y/N seem well", Pedro offered.

"I don't think I'll ever stop feeling this guilt on my chest, it's like a weird weight that sits here and gets heavy every now and again", Carlos explained, "but I think we're going in the right direction, and I'm going to spend every day of our lives making sure it never happens again. Y/N will never doubt my love or affection for her. I just want to make her happy now that she knows I know how much I screwed us up".

"I'm proud of you, man", Pedro tapped his back.

"You're what?", Carlos asked, a little flustered at his bestfriend's words.

"I'm proud of you, Carlos - you're dealing with this in such a good way! I'm not saying I doubted you would, but seeing you actually do it and make it happen in such a grown up, loving and accountability filled way makes me proud of who you became. As much as I joke about it, what Alba said in the car was true - you and Y/N are it. Whenever I think about what endgame is, you two are the first thing that comes to mind", he admitted.

"Thanks, hermano", Carlos replied earnestly.

After a couple of runs from you, Carlos and Pedro joined you, deciding they would play against you.

Once you were done, Pedro and Alba volunteered to take all of the supplies back to the storage room.

"Did you enjoy your day, Y/N?", Carlos asked as he approached you.

Surprising him, you nodded before you hugged him, "I haven't been this happy in a long time", you cuddled him, letting your head rest on his chest and letting yourself feel enveloped by his arms after the initial shock wore off.

"I'm glad", Carlos uttered out before he composed himself, "I just want you to know that I can fulfill all your dreams and that there I'll never do anything to hurt you again. I'm well aware of all shit I've done and put you through, and how accountable I am for it. I just want to make you happy", he chuckled, "hell, I don't want anything else in this world other than to make you happy, to show you how much I love you and that I want make this work, I want to make us work", he let out in such a serious and intense tone that you could feel a knot forming your throat, "you were my first love and I want you to be my last, Y/N".

"Carlos...", you gasped softly, "I know it hasn't been good for you, but I just need a little bit more time to put it behind me, once for all", you added.

"I know, and that's alright", he mumbled against the top of your head, "I just wanted you to know that everything I do, I do it for you", plucking up the courage to press a kiss there.

You closed your eyes and basked in the feeling. Your Carlos, the one you spent many nights wondering if he loved you back, was back.

Carlos invited you to his apartment for a cosy night in, thinking the plans over and over while he waited for you to arrive.

The delivery service was faster than he expected so he wrapped the takeout boxes in all of the kitchen towells he had so they would help retain the heat while you weren't there yet.

The whole place was tidy, he had your favourite blanket on the sofa and the TV had your favourite shows ready to stream in the background as you hopefully shared a comforting meal.

Your acceptance to come to his place made Carlos feel very pleased with the way you were trailing in your relationship. He had been able to correct his mistakes and make you happy again. Even though there had been moments where he seemed to forget, he now knew that you had always been and will always be a priority in his life. He had never been in love with anyone else and he was sure he would always be until his last breath.

A knock on his door pulled him out of his thoughts, heading up to the door to open it, "Hello hello! Come in", he gestured as you stepped inside, pecking his lips on the way - a few days prior, you had kissed him out of nowhere when you went to the bookshop and you swore he looked like a cartoon, all wide eyes and blushy cheeks.

Carlos assured you you wouldn't leave the house and it would be just the two of you, so you hadn't bothered to put together a proper outfit, opting to wear a pair of leggings and an old Nike hoodie that once belonged to Carlos.

"I wasn't sure if I should bring anything, so I stopped by the sweets shop to get some of these hard candies, apparently they're very trendy now", you giggled sweetly as you set the bag on his hands so you could take your trainers off.

"You didn't have to, but thanks! We'll do a taste test after dinner - which is here by the way", he guided you to the living room.

Unravelling the mountain of kitchen towells, he had you sit down before he opened the containers, handing you a plate after you chose a bit of each of the dishes he ordered, "thank you, Carlos", you smiled, sitting criss-cross on the sofa and waiting for him to do the same before you started eating.

"These are really good, have you tried them? They're new on their menu and when the guy explained it to me, I thought you'd like it", he pointed to one of the bite sized pieces.

"They are! They're not too heavy on the seasoning and they're really nice when you dip them in this sauce - try it!", you offered him the small cup.

"Is this going to be lik the time you made me dip my spring rolls in that other sauce you claimed was the best thing in the world?", he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Just try it, Carlos!", you insisted, getting one from your plate, dipping it in the sauce and taking it up to Carlos' mouth, your hand under the chopsticks in case some of it fell on his clothes.

Carlos chewed it before nodding and humming in satisfaction, "it is good", he admitted with a smile after he wiped his lips.

Once you finished eating, you helped Carlos bring everything back to the kitchen, saving the leftovers on his fridge, washing the plates and putting them away.

"You didn't have to help, I could've done it myself", Carlos nudged before he laced your hand in his and pulled you back to the living room, "do you want to watch something?", he asked.

"There's this new Disney movie I haven't watched if you're up for it - or any of the shows we usually watch, I'm not picky", you answered quickly.

"Disney it is", he smiled sitting down and resting his arm on the back of the sofa, hoping you'd sit next to him and cuddle him.

You shuffled around before grabbing the fluffy blanket, pulling it over your legs and tentatively closing the distance between you, taking the plunge and taking a spot on his chest.

Once the movie was playing, Carlos' arm dropped to wrap around you, lulling you closer to him and rubbing your arm.

"I can hear you thinking, and I'm sure you're not thinking about that little goat", you nodded to the screen.

"I'm watching the movie, I swear - and he's quite funny actually!", Carlos chuckled, "but I was also thinking about us", he admitted.

"You were?", you turned to look up at him, wanting to know more.

"You do know I will apologize for what I did until the end of our lives, don't you?", Carlos reflected out loud.

"Carlos, stop it, it's forgiven and forgotten", you offered.

"Is it really?", he asked, a small smile breaking his way into his lips.

"It is, it's behind us now", you kissed his clothed chest.

"I will never forget it, though. It doesn't matter how many times you tell me to forget it that you've forgiven me", he let out a shaky sigh, "I don't think I will, I hate myself for what did to you, the hurt that I caused you".

"Carlos, let's not talk about it right now - not now, not ever. It's a part of our story, yes, and we learned from it, but I don't want to to remember every day. We are good now, and I don't want you to torture yourself with something that is out of your reach and that you can't change", you told him sternly, now sitting back against the sofa so you can face your boyfriend, "Promise me we won't mention this again, Carlos, please".

"You're right", Carlos agrees, "Okay, you're right, I promise, Y/N", he stated with a smile.

Your delicate lips peck his quickly before you go in for a second kiss, longer and more intense this time, and you both got lost in eachother.

You couldn't change what happened, but you could learn from it and work everyday to make sure it never happened again.

Carlos was crazy about you, about who he was when was with you and how you made him feel, and you felt the same way about him

"I love you, Carlos", you smiled after you pulled away, resting your forehead in his.

"I love you forever, Y/N", he whispered, sealing his promise with a peck and bracing himself, "I'm never taking you for granted, and maybe this is a big gesture and I'm not sure how much this fits our new way - new patch? It's not a patch if we want it to last forever, right? - anyway, I would like to ask you to move in with me", Carlos stated, "it doesn't have to be tomorrow or right away, we'll do it when you're ready! I just- I spend so much time of the year away as it is, and I don't want to cut the short time even shorter when it comes to you, so this way we'll be together for a bit longer - even if it's just at nightime and we can intertwine our legs or I can warm up the bed for you", he rambled on and you were sure he wouldn't stop anytime soon.

"Hey, hey! Carlos, amor", you cupped his face with your hands, "look at me", you smiled as you straddled his lap, your thighs on each side of his and keeping you from fully sitting on him, "good now?".

"Well, since you're already there - sit, please", Carlos added before he allowed himself to stress about your answer.

"I don't want to squash you", you mumbled.

Laying his hands in your thighs, he pulled you down, "I said sit down", he spoke sternly despite the playful glint on his eyes, "it's my home after all, I get to make the rules".

"Oh, I thought it was our home, but maybe I misread th-", your playfulness was cut short as your boyfriend flipped you around, your back hitting the soft sofa cushion with a yelp.

"You're moving in? For real?", he asked.

"Yes, baby, I'm moving in", you cupped his cheek, pulling him for a kiss, "I love you".

"Mi amor, I'm going to spend everyday reminding you how beautiful, how strong", he started kissing your face with every word, "how kind, how amazing, how sexy, how hot, how smart, how kind, how incredible you are", he stopped just above your lips, "how all mine you are - I love you Y/N, forever", before he kissed your lips.

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