#atp tennis x reader

[b0r3dtod3ath]

ooh can i request you being ben shelton’s gf and watching one of his games (and maybe your not famous at all) and idk maybe he does something or u do something that kinda outs u as a couple

sorry if this is vague, i love ur stories:)

an: Thank you for the message! Omg someone loves my stories! I'm happy you like them. Also from this place I wanna express my appreciation for each one of you. Messages from my readers always make my day! Anyway, here's what I came up with.

One of the challenges you faced together while dating Ben was keeping the relationship private. You were not used to the amount of attention the rising star of tennis got. 

It was a big day for the both of you. Ben was playing in an important match, and you sat in his box, a few rows back from the court. It was the first tournament you had joined him. You were nervous, but also incredibly proud of him. You wore a simple outfit and a baseball cap, hoping to blend in with the crowd and not draw too much attention. You watched him in awe, noticed all the changes - his eyes fierce, expression confident but still focused and almost stone cold - it was in stark contrast to his softer side that you experienced almost everyday. Each powerful serve and strategic play had the crowd on their feet, cheering him on. You were so engrossed in the game that you didn’t notice the cameras occasionally panning to the crowd, capturing the excitement of the spectators. During the most intense exchanges during the match you felt your heart pounding in your chest.

When Ben hit a stunning winner ace, the crowd erupted in applause. Without thinking, you jumped up from your seat, cheering and clapping enthusiastically. It was at that moment that he turned towards the stands, his eyes searching the crowd. He spotted you, his face breaking into a wide, triumphant smile. His softer side breaking through the hard shell built up during the match. In a spontaneous, unguarded moment, he pointed directly at you, and mouthed, “For you. I love you.”

The cameras, always quick to catch any interesting moment, zoomed in on your happily surprised expression. The commentators, noticing the exchange, began speculating about who you might be. “That’s quite a gesture,” one of them said. “It looks like Ben Shelton just dedicated that point to someone special in the audience".

After the match and the on-court interview, you walked down the stairs to get closer to Ben, ignoring the glances from the last bits of crowd. He stood on his tippy toes, pulling you into a celebratory hug. “I’m sorry if that put you in the spotlight,” he whispered in your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “I just couldn’t help it”. Although from the outside it didn’t look like the best hug ever as his body was covered in sweat and you were standing over a meter above him, your heart still swelled with love. You smiled up at him “It’s okay,” you replied. “I’m proud to be with you, Ben”. 

With that, he kissed you softly, right there in front of fans and cameras. People that haven’t left yet erupted once again, this time in a mixture of cheers and awws. It seemed that your relationship was no longer a secret as clips of you two instantly went viral and people on twitter compared you to Romeo and Juliet on a balcony, but at that moment, you didn’t care. You were just happy to be with Ben, sharing his victory and his love.

June 7, 2024

[idksmtms]

Don't Be Nervous (Carlitos Alcaraz x reader)

Request

A/N: Firstly, I am so sorry it has taken me so frickin long to answer this request Anon. I’M SO SORRYYYYY. 

Secondly, I LOVE writing for Carlos, so I will take literally any request for him! Idk, that cutie pie has me in some kinda chokehold. 

Summary: Carlos is taking you home for the weekend to meet his family for the first time and trying not to laugh at how crazily nervous you are. 

Word count: 3,230 

Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, anxiety, big relationship moment, mostly just fluffy with a little panicking in the beginning (please let me know if I missed any) 

Disclaimer: This is written purely for fictional purposes and for the sake of writing. No disrespect is intended to the real people portrayed/concerned in this scenario.

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

Carlos was lounging on the bed in your hotel room while you sat at the little desk in the corner by the window trying to stop your hand from shaking as you put on your eyeliner. Your flight landed late in the night so you had booked a hotel room to stay in. Though his mother had insisted you come to stay at the house with them, you hadn’t wanted to disturb them that late. He had come to the hotel right after practice ended at noon, just as you were finally waking up from your mini-coma and had crawled into bed with you for an hour. 

You had missed him dearly the week you had been travelling and worrying about the impending meeting with his family, so the cuddle session had been welcome. He had slithered under the covers then basically laid his entire body on top of you, laughing softly when you had grunted but simply wrapped your arms around his torso and snuggled your face into his neck. He smelled clean from his shower, like the mint shampoo you had gotten for him near the beginning of your relationship when you had found out he was one of those people that used 3-in-1 shampoo, conditioner, and bodywash. You still teased him about that sometimes even though he had evolved his shower routine. Then he had simply rolled off of you and wrapped you up in his arms, whispering about how much he had missed you against your cheek before (at your nudging) setting a thirty minute timer for a nap. 

Now you were awake, showered, finished with blow-drying your hair, dressed in a pretty green flowery dress that you felt demonstrated your best cottage-core self, and trying to get your eyeliner wings even. Carlos was lying on the bed, legs over the edge and phone raised over his face as he scrolled through instagram and shot-down all your insane and irrational worries about meeting his family. 

“They already love you and they have not even met you yet!” He exclaimed when you turned to him angrily and said “what if they think I’m some evil little golddigger?!” You just scoffed as if he didn’t understand and he began laughing, dropping his phone beside his head and standing up. He came over to the bench you were sitting on and set himself down beside you, gently brushing his fingers through your hair on the shoulder closest to him. You turned to face him, a pout on your lips as you capped the eyeliner and put it down on the desk. You reached out and draped your arms over his shoulders, dropping your head in the space between you two as you sighed. He only leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the top of your head before lifting it by your chin and making you look him in the eyes. 

You loved his eyes. They were so beautiful, so unique, your favourite set of eyes because of the person they came with. The brown was so soft and clear, like what a dark-coloured honey looked like if it was being poured out into the sun. And they were always soft. Even when he was at his most focused in a match and they took on that slightly darker quality, they were soft eyes. You could never believe he was a mean or unkind person simply because of those eyes (biassed as you were). 

“I just…” you sighed and shook your head, pursing your lips for a moment. “I really want them to like me. I- I love you,” you shrugged, and he just smiled giddily, leaning over and pressing a kiss to your cheek. You were glad you hadn’t put your foundation on yet otherwise a very different argument would have happened at that moment. “And they’re your family, they shaped you into the person you are today and you love them. I want them to love me too, or at least like me.” And you sighed again as if you felt utterly stupid but he began shaking his head. 

“Since they are my family, I would know how they feel, no?” He asked, and you nodded, though hesitatingly. “Ok, so let me tell you how they feel. They think you are beautiful because I send pictures of you on the family group chat all the time. Like probably once a day.” When you only giggled and shook your head, he pulled out his phone and opened one of the screenshots he had taken of the family group chat after he had sent pictures of the two of you on holiday in Greece. “See?” He proffered his phone to you and you grabbed it out of his hand, zooming in on the photo little. 

At the top was the picture of you and him you had taken in the mirror before you left for dinner with some of his friends. You had been really proud of your outfit and makeup that day. You had begun tanning from how long you spent on the beach each day and had a pinkish hue under your skin from the heat. Under the photo both of his parents had sent a bunch of heart and starry-eyed emojis. His mother said he looked very handsome and his father simply asked where you guys were going. His brothers hadn’t chimed in yet and he answered his father’s question with a quick out to dinner. Other messages from his mother followed, Y/n looks so beautiful! Make sure you tell her! And another, Ask her where the dress is from, I want one as well. You laughed loudly at that then hit Carlos on the shoulder. 

“Ow, why?” He asked through a laugh, watching the smile grow on your face. 

“Because your mother told you to ask me where I got the dress from and you never did! What if she thinks I just ignored it or I’m snobby or something?!” 

“Cariño, I think she knew I never even asked,” he laughed, shaking his head as you sighed in exasperation and continued reading the messages. Alvaro had simply asked how did you manage to get such a pretty girlfriend and you raised an eyebrow and pointed at the message, shoving the phone in his face for a second before handing it back to him. He put it in his pocket then gently pulled you closer so you were almost sitting on top of him. He kissed you, soft and sweet and quick, before smiling and looking into your eyes. “You worry too much, you know that?” 

“Yeah, I know,” you sighed sadly, kissing him one more time before pushing him away and turning back to the mirror on the desk that you were using as your vanity. “Ok, now leave me alone so I can finish my makeup and we can get going. I might actually spontaneously combust if we were late.” And he laughed all the way back to his spot on the bed. 

It didn’t take you long to finish your makeup while Carlos continued perusing his instagram reels, occasionally getting up to show you a couple of the funny ones. You were well practised, and after the eyeliner the motions were simpler. You almost had a breakdown when you thought your foundation had started pilling around your nose (and you definitely wouldn’t have time to wipe it all off and put it on again) but it was just some fluff that had gotten caught on your sponge while you were dabbing at it and it came away easily. That was also the moment you decided you really did need to calm down because almost crying over that definitely wasn’t healthy. 

You packed your makeup bag into your suitcase before zipping it up and putting it onto the floor. You grabbed your little purse from the side table and the tote bag with gifts for the family. You were quite proud of yourself with your gifts, a pair of pretty silver earrings for his mother, cufflinks for his father, a brightly coloured tennis grip for Jaime (the one that he had been told to save his allowance up for) and chocolates for everyone to share. You wanted them to like you, and gifts usually worked pretty well, you found. 

Carlos grabbed the handle of your suitcase as you took one last look around and held the door open for you as you pinched the keycard from the little holder by the lightswitch. He waited patiently by the door, ordering an Uber while you checked out, then telling you to sit in the car while he put the suitcase in the boot. Once the car was on its way, you swivelled to face him in the backseat. 

“What if they think I’m an idiot?” You asked, worrying at your lip as the driver changed lanes. Carlos laughed, squinting at you in confusion. 

“Why would they think you are an idiot?” He asked, twisting his hand in a ‘what in the world…’ motion. 

“I don’t know. Sometimes when I get nervous I talk a lot or I don’t say enough or I don’t think about what I’m actually saying and just- ugh. I sound stupid.” 

“Ok, then I have a simple solution for you,” he nodded sagely, like he had been carrying all the answers to the universe and you need only have asked for them. 

“What?” You asked sceptically, glaring at him.

“Don’t be nervous,” he shrugged, laughing hysterically while you just crossed your arms over your chest and turned back to the window with a scowl. 

“Ha. Ha. You think you’re so funny,” you grumbled, pulling away when he tried to grasp your shoulder and shooting him an annoyed look. He reached down and took your hand in his and despite the intense desire to pull it away as well, you let him bring it up to his lips and gently kiss the back in apology. 

“Ok, ok, I am sorry, really. Look, I understand why you are nervous, but really there is no reason for it. Unless you do something weird that you usually never do, there will be no problem and they will love you more than they love me.” His smile was so innocent and comforting and loving that all you could do was nod and lean over to kiss him gently. 

“Can I still ask dumb ‘what if’ questions while we drive to distract myself?” You asked quietly, sounding almost like a little kid, and he just chuckled, nodding and pulling you as close as he could while both of you had your seatbelts on. 

“Ok, what if when we go inside and they come to greet us, I fall flat on my face right in front of them?” 

“Then they will run to help you get back up, and I will stand behind you trying to stop laughing,” he smirked cheekily so you smacked his chest lightly but smiled secretly. 

“Ok, um,” you dragged out, trying to think of more crazy (but extremely possible) scenarios. “What if we get inside, and everything is going well, but then out of nowhere, I throw up all over myself and the floor?” You raised an eyebrow, challenging him to answer it, but he was laughing so hard that it took him a minute to gather enough breath to respond. 

“Then my mother will probably take you upstairs to the guest bedroom and help you clean yourself up, change your clothes, tuck you into bed and take care of you like you are a sick baby. And my father and I will be downstairs cleaning up all the vomit.” 

“Hmph,” and he almost laughed at the fact that you seemed upset that you hadn’t stumped him with your ridiculous question. “Ok, what if right after I walk in, a dinosaur comes out of nowhere and smashes its foot through the roof of the living room?” 

Carlos just lifted an eyebrow into the air and even you had to admit that that was just crazy. Nevertheless, the questions continued for the rest of the ride. 

The Alcaraz family lived in a beautiful Spanish villa that looked like what one would imagine as the perfect Mediterranean summer destination. He led you up the path to the door and then inside. As he crossed the threshold, he held the door open for you with his free hand before locking it behind himself. You could hear distant murmuring and held tighter onto the strap of your tote bag. 

Since you had stepped out of the car, your heart had begun pounding like it was trying to escape your chest. Your palms were sweaty and your breaths felt shaky but Carlos didn’t give you a moment to pause and stew in your thoughts. He simply kept walking you up the path, through the door and into the house. 

As both of you walked down the hallway that led into the large living room, he announced your arrival. 

“Hola hola!” He hollered, “estamos aqui!” He peeked his head around the staircase and found the entire family lounging on the couches around the coffee table, scrolling on their phones or watching something mindless on the tv. They all perked up at the sound of his voice and stood up from their seats to greet the both of you. 

Your heart had jumped into your throat but Carlitos kept his grip on your hand and dragged you into the living room behind him so you had no choice but to paste on a smile and fight through the sudden lack of air in your lungs. 

When you guys came around the bend of the stairs into the living room, you took a deep breath as his family came to greet you. His mother pressed a kiss to his cheek quickly before shoving past him and smiling brightly at you. 

“Oh, hello, darling!” She exclaimed, pulling you into a tight hug as you mumbled a ‘hello Mrs. Alcaraz in return. She brushed it off and told you to call her Virginia against your shoulder, rubbing your back before pulling away and grasping both your hands in hers, looking you over for a moment with a warm and motherly smile. “You are so beautiful! So, so, beautiful,” she told you excitedly, squeezing your hands gently as you laughed bashfully and thanked her. “Carlitos is always talking about you and we are so happy to finally meet you.” You blushed at that, glancing over to Carlos who was talking to his brothers about something. When she pulled away, she wrapped an arm around your shoulder and brought you further into the room. 

Carlos’s father came up to you next, shaking your hand firmly and smiling at you as he asked if he could take your bag and put it down for you. 

“Oh, that’s so sweet, thank you so much!” You exclaimed before pulling the bag off your shoulder and opening it. “But, they’re actually gifts for you,” you told them shyly, pulling out the two velvet boxes for him and Virginia. She came over and hugged you again, teasingly admonishing you for bothering to get gifts which you brushed off with a wave of the hand. “I wanted to,” you simply told her, shrugging before turning to his brothers who were now standing near you. 

“Y/n, this is Alvaro,” Carlos had an arm wrapped over his older brother’s shoulder and shook him a little when he said his name. You giggled and held out your hand for him to shake, and he smiled politely in return. You handed him the box of liqueur chocolates you had brought and he smiled mischievously, nudging Carlos with his elbow. 

“She knows how to make us love her, huh?” He asked teasingly before turning to face you again. “Thank you, this is very nice.” 

“No problem,” you shrugged, but a joyful smile was slowly pulling on your lips as you turned to his other two brothers. 

“This is Sergio, and Jaime,” Carlos introduced, and he stood behind Jaime, shaking his little shoulders until he was giggling. 

You turned first to Sergio who was closer to age to you and Carlos, and gave him the little box of chocolates you had gotten specifically for him because Carlos said they were his favourite. In typical teenage boy fashion, he smiled and thanked you then moved to go stand by Alvaro. Jaime joking around with Carlos, sending fake punches into Carlos’s side who pretended to keel over in pain. You laughed at the little display before grabbing the box that had the racket grip in it and holding it out to Jaime. 

“This is for you,” you said happily, waiting for him to take the box from you. He did, saying a bright ‘thank you!’ before turning it over and realising it was the grip he had asked for a few weeks ago but told to save up for. You understood that his parents were trying to help him learn financial responsibility, even with something like a tennis grip, but you hadn’t been able to help yourself. He was secretly your favourite of Carlos’s brothers simply because he was the youngest and had such a cute little babyface. 

“Thank you!” He exclaimed again and gave you a quick hug. It barely lasted a few seconds before he was pulling away and going to his tennis bag under the stairs to re-grip his racket, but you were filled with a sense of triumph and a fizzing happiness that filled each of your limbs. Everything was going great. 

Carlos ambled over and gently rubbed your arm, raising his eyebrows as if to say ‘see? Everything worked out just like I said,’ and you smiled in acceptance, pushing him lightly in the chest before his mother came over and guided you to sit on one of the sofas so she could ask you a million questions about your life. 

Virginia and Carlitos had taken you for a tour of the house and shown you the guest room you would be staying in. Dinner afterward went amazingly as well, with everyone telling stories about Carlitos as a child that made him blush and laugh in embarrassment as you cracked up beside him. When the plates were being cleared away and everyone was moving to the sofas again for coffee and tea, you insisted on helping his mother take everything to the kitchen and aid her in washing the plates. She had told you to go sit down about ten times and even tried to physically push you out of the kitchen at one point but you refused to budge. 

And as Carlitos stood in the doorway watching you smile at her and make some joke that made her chuckle, he truly felt that everything was right in the world. The entire night he felt like someone had put a filter over his eyes so everything looked rosy and warm, but it was just you. It was just your presence and you being around his family; it was just the gathering of all the people he loved the most in the world. He watched you gesture behind yourself and say something with wide eyes that made his mother bend over as she laughed hysterically, and he thought that soulmates might just be real.

[rvblos]

nsfw/sfw headcanon for carlos since you have written one for jan?🥰

sfw / nsfw headcanons - carlos alcaraz

warning: this contains nsfw so if you’re not comfortable with it just don’t read it!

notes: my baby carlitos😖

sfw:

- he is the most precious guy to ever set foot on this earth UGH

- he has the biggest heart, always gifting you something (especially flowers🎀)

- he loves taking you out!! you’ve had an argument? nothing a good nice and fancy dinner can’t fix

- he’s the king of yapping change my mind, always babbling abt something whether it’d be his training or new skills he learned on his own but you find it cute so you just sit there and stare at him in awe😌

- he’s the happiest ever whenever he has you by his side, and adores when you go to his matches to show support for your bf

- very good with kids!! they all feel so safe around him and seeing him playing with children gives you baby fever😤

- he is just too funny, whenever he opens his mouth everyone is immediately laughing. he has a really good sense of humor.

- always wanna cuddle, he can’t keep his hand off of you like he’d be doing the most important thing in his life but he HAS to have your hand in his own

- he tried several times to teach you spanish but without success😅 but he looooves hearing your accent when trying to repeat what he said in his native language

- he is loved by literally ANYONE he’s so likeable it hurts

nsfw:

- GIVER GIVER GIVER GIVER

- and i stand by it✊🏻

- i think he’d be too focused on your pleasure to even think about his own

- LOVES giving you head (and it’d be the most toe-curling and back-arching head you have had in your entire life)

- you’d be literally gasping for air as his tongue worked his way into you

- he loves how his body towers over yours (size kink?🤔)

- especially when having you beneath him, your body just looks so small compared to his

- “d’you feel it, cariño?” he’d say slipping in and out of you at an unbearable pace😵‍💫

- you get so horny when he speaks spanish (me too!)

- and he loves seeing you turn all red when he’d say things like “you feel so good around me, amor” or “you’re so tight, bebe” LOCK ME

- his beard is sooo sexy, you love how it tingles your skin when he kisses you

[forgave-me-not]

ROUTINE ANALYSIS ☆ J.S.

In his short life, Jannik has learned the perfect technique on how subtleties like all great observers have. And somehow, he'll always manage to use these skills on you. word count: 1.9k words - genuinely so glad someone asked for another part. had a lot of fun with this 🙏🏾 warnings: mentions of prayer/spirituality, kissing, sickeningly sweet domesticity

The day before a big match is always the most nervewracking. Excitement, combined with the everpresent fear of failure, finally settles into the pit of an athlete's stomach and waits to be cracked open like an oyster or left to fester as the pearls within those creatures do. And for you, it's no different.

So, to alleviate your very obvious unease, Jannik decided to take it upon himself, on his day off, to practice with you. Having already secured his place in the semi-final, he had decided one less day of rest would be worth it if he could help out the woman he loved.

Practice went well, by all definitions of the word. In fact, it went really well. However, Jannik's praises and your temporary feeling of contentment could not negate the fact you just might buckle underneath the pressure of the match.

The emotions showed at the end of practice when you crouched down with your forehead on the handle of your racket and prayed - aloud - out of Jannik's earshot, of course. You'd never been super big on outward displays of faith like that; you preferred a more reserved, intimate relationship with spirituality. But desperate times call for desperate measures and you had squeezed your eyes tight and prayed as hard as you could. And once you were done, you dusted yourself off, packed your racket bag, and trotted out of the facilities with your boyfriend. You tried to think nothing of it, so Jannik wouldn't notice. But he does. He always does.

Turning the shower off, you wrapped the towel tightly around yourself and opened the door exiting the bathroom. Steam and hot air billowed out around you, casting the light every which way. You looked down, hugging your torso; water drips from your elbows, and you let out a quiet sigh.

"From where I am, you look like an angelo dal cielo, dearest," Jannik says, leaning against an adjacent doorway. You turn away and smile. An angel from heaven. How classy. The Italian's charms never cease to make you blush, no matter how long you've been together. "Why thank you, Jannik," you say, walking over to your bags. You quickly found your nightclothes - one of Jannik's old t-shirts and a pair of spanx - and promptly threw them on.

"You played so well today, amore," Jannik said from behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist. You smile down at your bag. "Really now? Well, I guess I did have an amazing practice partner," you say with a smirk.

"You guess?!?" Jannik pulls away, and you turn around to see the Italian dramatically gaping at you. He faints onto your shared hotel bed with a hand on his forehead. Straight out of the opera. You roll your eyes. "Get up, you bum. We need to brush our teeth." The two of you make your way to the bathroom sink and go through the motions of a usual night. Bumping hips while brushing. Moisturizing each other's faces. Making gargling mouthwash a competition. You don't realize it, not yet, that Jannik is distracting you from the whirlwind of thoughts he knows is in your mind. And future you is already thankful.

You pad your way around the room, turning out the lights and straightening things. Jannik sits in bed rereading David Foster Wallace's String Theory for the hundredth time. He leans closer to the lamp on the nightstand. "You already wear glasses, baby. Don't hurt your eyes anymore," you call out from across the room. Jannik huffs and puts the book down. He knows I'm right, and he can't admit it. Such a man. While making your rounds, you glimpse tomorrow's outfit in the closet, and you almost forget yourself and shudder. Instead, you just close the doors and slip into bed.

Jannik notices you're not as chatty as usual. On a typical night, you'd be talking to him about your day, the funny things you saw on social media, weird texts from your siblings. But it's not a typical night, and Jannik understands.

"You are thinking about tomorrow's match, aren't you," Jannik says, looking at the ceiling. He still hasn't turned off the lamp, so the warm lighting casts half his face in shadow. You reach over and run your hand through his curls. "What makes you say that, Jan?"

"Oh, I don't know. How quiet you were at dinner—the constant sighing and staring into the distance, the praying." He says the last phrase with a sidelong glance, and you close your eyes and breathe. The jig is up. You sink into the bed and look away from him.

"Jan, do you ever get that feeling of 'I'm going to screw everything up once I get out there' before a big match? Because I sure as hell do," you whisper to him. The covers are pulled up to your chin. You're hiding. You're actually ashamed of a feeling so natural. And you aren't sure what upsets you more; the shame or the feeling itself.

Jannik mulls over your question. "No," he says flatly. You sit up straight. Jannik rises to lean on his elbow so he can look you in the eye. "For me, it's always the thought of 'the worst I can do is embarrass myself in front of millions of people.' And honestly, I think that might be worse."

You smile at him. "I think it might be the same," you whisper back at him. You huff, thinking of what to say.

"It's just... I've played countless finals and hope to play countless more, and you've invested so much time, energy, love into me and-"

"You know you can do it, but you still feel like, um, how do I put this, merda?" You've thrown your hands over your face. "Yes. Merda's the word."

Jannik smiles and pulls you into him.

"Well, I can't get rid of the feeling for you, but I can tell you one thing; you are one hell of a tennis player, and that other girl, your opponent, has nothing on you. Not your passion, not your personality, not even your attitude. None of it." He squeezes you with every compliment. A few tears prick your eyes. "So, I want you to throw away all of your doubts and worries. Win or lose, there is nothing you can do to get rid of me now. But you are not going to lose. I can feel it." His hands are on your face, forcing you to look into his dark eyes. You place your hands on his wrists and nod your head. "Okay, Jannik."

"Good," Jannik says with a small smile. And with that, he seals his words into your mind, body, and soul with a kiss on your forehead.

Jannik finally turns off the lamp, and the two of you settle into bed. There's a beat where you both just listen to the sounds of the night. The other's breathing. Cars still rushing by. The ticking of the clock on the wall.

"What did you pray about," Jannik says, breaking the silence. There was never much of it in your relationship, and Jannik knew he should probably revel in the quiet, but he needed to know one last thing before he went to sleep.

"None of your business, dork," you say, snuggling into your pillow.

"Ouch," Jannik says, putting his hand on his heart. You snort a laugh and close your eyes.

"I prayed that all your training wouldn't go to waste and that I'd win tomorrow so I can prove to myself that I am indeed that confident woman I thought...think I am. I'm usually pretty "go with the flow" but I guess someone finally got to me, you know? But overall, it was for guidance and strength."

Something in Jannik's chest tightened. Your tone and the way you described what you were feeling reminded him of himself. He leaned over and kissed your neck.

"You know what Italians call people like you?" You shake your head.

"il preoccupata. Pensatore eccessivo. The worrier. The overthinker. But to be completely honest, I think you are more of il filiosofa - the philosopher. You carefully study everything around you and try to put a name to it. And this time, you couldn't. Your, erm, what's it called when you test something over and over to see if it works?"

"Routine analysis?"

"Yes, that. Your routine analysis," Jan emphasized the phrase you just taught him. "You couldn't check the boxes, and that upset you. But dearest, you are not a robot. Feel as you feel, and don't try to explain it away. It's what makes you human; what makes you, you."

Your bottom lip began to quiver. "Oh, dispiace amore mio. I didn't mean to make you cry. Forget everything I just said.

"No, I-I'm not sad, Jan. It's quite the opposite. You're just s-so right," you blubber into his chest. "And I'm so lucky to have you."

Jannik dips down to kiss you. "Get some sleep, amore. You have a big day ahead of you." You're not sure if it was Jannik's words or all the stress leaving your body (probably both, to be frank), but you had the best night's sleep you've had in weeks.

You beamed up at the cheering crowd. It was next to impossible for you to contain your joy as you walked to the next to shake hands with your opponent. The look on her face was...kind. It was filled with a certain security that is hard to describe.

The two of you shook hands and gave each other a quick hug. "You deserve it," she says as both of you walk to the umpire. Another smile spread across your face. "Oh, stop it."

"No, really. You fought like hell," she says with a laugh. You follow suit, finally feeling the pit in your stomach be filled like a pothole in a parking lot. After hands were shaken and you waved your racket at every person in the stadium, you decided it was time to find Jannik.

You zipped your racket bag shut and weaved in and out of the people setting up cameras and ramps for the trophy presentation. Your trophy. Finally making it to the court entrance, you bounded up flights of stairs and traversed the corridors to your team box, where Jannik awaited you.

He spots you first. He always does. Jannik makes a few quick strides, scoops you up in his arms, and spins you around. You laugh into the air and place your hands on his shoulders to brace yourself.

"I knew you could do it tesoro," Jannik whispers in your ear, bringing you back down to earth. "I know, I know. Should've listened to you earlier," you say looking down at your feet, a bit embarrassed at all your worrying just for everything to turn out okay. He laughs and wraps a long arm around your shoulders.

"You'll be here for the award ceremony, right?" The answer is quite obvious, but you ask the question anyway.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world amore," he said, smiling down at you.

"Front row," you ask sarcastically as you shuffle towards the exit.

"Where else would I be, honey," Jannik smirks. You grin back at him. "Well, I'll see you down there then." And you turn to walk down the stairs.

"Oh, wait," Jannik calls after you.

"Yes, dear?"

"Ti amo bambina," Jannik says, leaning down the stairs to look you in the eye. Your heart tightens a bit.

"Anch'io ti amo, Jannik," you answer softly, closing the gap between the two of you and laying a light kiss on Jannik's lips.

author's note: as an athlete, those unshakeable feelings of imposter syndrome sneak up on you lol. even for the most laid back of us, me included. I remember this one time I got knocked out of high jump and really beat myself about it (I shouldn't have, I'd just run the 400m five minutes before and my legs were mush) but I cried for like three minutes and moved on to my next event. c'est la vie.

[saragarnier]

TENNIS LESSONS

pairing: jannik sinner x reader

Warning: none, just fluffy

Summary: Jannik teaches y/n how to play tennis

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

“Come on, darling. How much time do you need to change clothes?” Jannik asked through the closed door; you two decided to play a quick game on the court even if you had never played tennis before. It was Jannik’s idea and you immediately agreed, deciding that you needed a proper outfit.

For that reason you bought a tennis uniform without his knowledge.

“I’m coming, just give me one more minute!” You said, smiling a little bit and looking at the mirror: you liked how the uniform was on you but you were also tense because you didn’t know if Jannik would have appreciated.

You sighed, then you took a deep breath and you opened the door, exiting the bathroom and looking at him.

Jan looked at you, speechless for some minutes.

“Y/n” he whispered your name, lookin at you in the new uniform. “Holy shit, you’re amazing in that uniform.”

You blushed at hsi compliment but you really appreciated it; you smiled and walked towards him.

“Do you like it?” You asked, smiling softly.

He put his hands on your hips and he smiled, leaving some kisses on your cheeks and after that on your neck.

“Do i like it? I fucking love it. God, you’re so beautiful darling, i’m the luckiest man in the world.” He said, hugging you and finally kissing you on the lips; you kissed him back and smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Now i’m properly ready for our little match.” You whispered to his ear, smiling.

The Italian smiled and kissed you again, then he took his bag and wrap the other arm on your shoulders, smiling.

“C’mon, let’s go to the court” he smiled, placing a kiss on your head before opening the door to let you pass. “Girls first.” He added, smiling.

“Are you letting me pass first just because you’re a gentleman or because you want to look at my ass?” You chuckled, biting your bottom lip.

“Maybe… you’ll never know.” He joked, taking your hand and smiling.

You two reached the court in just seven minutes by foot and you smiled when you two entered the court together, hand in hand.

“Okay, now… you never played tennis before, haven’t you?” He asked, giving you one of his rackets; you immediately took it and your eyes widened when you felt how heavy it was, more than you were expecting it to be.

“No, i never played tennis so you have to teach me everything.”

Jannik smiles at you and he gently hit the ball to pass it to you; you tried to stop it with your racket but you failed miserably. He laughed while you blushed, embarrassed by your skill in NOT hitting the ball.

“Try again love, you just have to gain some confidence with the racket. It’s like an extension of your arm and it’s difficult to train your mind in understanding it. Just keep trying and you will improve okay? Let me put my hat on and i will help you doing that.”

The Italian shook his head a little bit, then he used both his hands to adjust the hat on his head; he had so many hair that he needed some minutes to adjust everything, being sure to have a good view of the entire court. After that, he walked towards his girlfriend that was some meters away, trying to hit the ball with the racket he gave her. He perfectly knew that it was too big for her but he didn’t have any other racket, so they had to adapt to it.

“Okay, let me help you with the service.” He said, walking towards you. He put his hands on your hips, positioning you in the right place, then he helped you with the posture. “Okay, that’s better. Normally you have to hit the square that’s diagonally opposite you but this time we’ll make an exception, okay? Just try to hit the ball, we should start with that.”

You was so nervous even if you knew that the only person that could have seen your incapacity of playing tennis was your boyfriend; you knew that he wouldn’t have made fun of you, but you were nervous anyway.

You really wanted to playing tennis decently for him, you wanted to do that to make him happy. It was your boyfriend’s biggest passion and you wanted to live that too, because you wanted to know everything that could make your boyfriend happy.

Somehow you were able to hit the ball, even if it was not hard enough; the ball bounced in your side of the field but Jannik didn’t say anything, he wanted for the ball to bounce again in his side and he hit it gently, aiming at your right to be sure that you would have been able to hit it with your forehand.

Somehow you did it and you both cheered, even if the ball stopped against the net.

“Good job love! You’re doing amazing! Honestly i thought you would have missed every single ball.” He jokes, smiling at you. You looked at him and put your hands on your hips, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah? It’s that so?” You joked, smiling darkly at him. “If that’s the case i think that tonight i will undress myself and I would not ask your help at all!”

Jannik widened his eyes and look at you, speechless.

He couldn’t believe you just said that in a public place, even if you two were the only ones on the court and even if no one was on the stands. He didn’t expect it but he immediately regretted making that comment.

“I’m sorry! Y/n you know that i was only joking! You’re the best tennis player i ever met in my career and i will definitely lose this game because you’re too much stronger!” He immediately said, biting his lip while saying that. “But can i took that uniform away this night? I swear that’s the only thing I thought about since i saw you with that!”

You laughed and you recovered the ball, coming back into position and trying to hit it as hard as you could while Jannik was still talking. He was so focused in trying to be forgiven about what he said that he didn’t realize you just made your service.

The ball didn’t bounce in the right square so it would definitely have been a fault in a normal match, but since he said the rules would have been different for their match, you made a point.

Jannik really tried to save the ball to the last but he couldn’t, that’s why you rejoiced, happy about the point you just made.

“That’s not fair! I was still talking!” He immediately replied, putting his hands on his hips, pouting.

“It’s not my fault if you weren’t paying any attention!” You replied, smiling. “I made a point! Ha! What were you saying, mh?” You teased him, smiling.

“Oh, you’re in so much trouble.” You said, waking towards you with an evil smile; you immediately started running away but he was much more trained than you and he immediately stopped you, wrapping his arms around you. “Where are you going darling?”

When Jannik started to tickled you, you immediately started laughing. “No, please stop!” You begged him to stop, still laughing and trying to escape from his grip. You kept laughing and laughing for minutes that seemed like hours, then he finally stopped and he just put his hands in your hips, bringing you closer to his body. He was definitely taller than you and you had to looked up to meet his eyes.

You stayed silent for some minutes, trying to catch your breath while looking at him, smiling softly.

He caressed your cheeks and smiled, then he lowered himself and left a kiss on your forehead.

“I love you so much.” He said, giving you shivers.

There’s something about his eyes that always made you feel special; you knew that you would have fallen in love with those eyes the second you saw them and the second you felt their effects on you.

“I love you too, loser.” You said, kissing him before he could reply

[antadogoias]

I need people to write fanfics with tennis players (especially with my beloved Andrey Rublev). Like, I see so many people obsessed with F1 and I see so many fanfics about F1 boys. I need this from tennis fans.

[talkteatennis]

Body

Summary: Andrey Rublev trying to get reader to go on a date.

Warnings: body conscious conversation, no smut but suggestive

“Andrey you are a twig,” y/n stated as you held his wrists in your hands as the tall lanky boy looked at you in shock.

“Am not, I am very toned” Andrey stated releasing his wrists from your grip to flex his biceps. Which made areas of your body tremble but you knew he wasn’t wrong.

All that played in your mind, was the battering you would receive from the media about not being one of those ‘twig bitch models’ he usually went for.

“Fine you are not. Now leave me alone please,” you said walking away from him trying to exit the players lounge only for him to rush in front and stop you from leaving.

“Y/N, you have been making excuses for why you can’t be with me! Why is that?” You sighed at his words. It was something he would never understand actually you thought.

“Because your not my type.” Y/N simply said, because it was easier this than to have to explain how you really felt.

“If thats so then why do you look at me as if you want to undress me?” He said getting closer and you were taken aback. You hadn’t realised Andrey had noticed your occasional glances but how could he not it’s not like you tired to hide it very well anyway.

Stammers and mutterings of words flowed out of your mouth but nothing to form coherent sentences.

“Its just dinner Y/N” he said looking at you as his hand gently caresses your cheekbones.

“No” you said again making herself clear and then leaving but once again only to be pulled back. Y/N let out a sigh of frustration as you once again you were faced with Andrey’s handsome face.

“I’m not letting you go,” he said this time his strong hands firmly placed on your waist holding you still right in front of him. He didn’t care who saw them at this point as players were just squeezing past the two of them trying to enter and exit the lounge. He wasn’t dropping the subject till you explained yourself.

“I am fat okay and I don’t want to go on a date with you because the media will rip me to shreds for not being thin and beautiful like all the models you go for!” You said eyes welling up a little. Andrey squeezed your sides tighter shaking his head before looking you in your beautiful eyes.

“Thats crazy. You are not fat you are cruvy in all the right places Y/N and I love it,” Andrey said letting his hand roam from your waist to your hips then butt which made blush, “ I don’t care what they think about you and you shouldn’t either and if they want to say stuff about the way you look I’ll put them in their place.” You smiled at his words and he leant in to kiss her but she stopped him by placing a finger on his lips just separating them.

“Okay, I will go to dinner only if you are sure that you want to date a poc, curvy woman,” you said looking him dead in the eyes.

“Oh I am sure. The things I would kill do to you right now,” he said whisperig the last part lustfully into your ear sending a warm an fuzzy feeling below your stomach.

You removed your finger slowly making sure to look him in the eye then gently placed your lips on his.

[heavenbarnes]

Million Dollar Baby

Art Donaldson x Fem Reader

Warnings/Contains: this is essentially a series of vignettes, at this point you’re the duncan-donaldson sugar baby, swearing, effective cheating (tashi approved), mild exhibitionism, face slapping (not with hands), unprotected sex, reader is pretty submissive, thee slightest tashi x reader, patrick mention.

Part one

it’s that part two to “i wanna make it (so badly)” that i kept harping on about! just wanted to prove to you all i could make good on something! enjoy! i still crave this man!

Born under a lucky star.

Rabbits foot. Horse shoe. Triple sevens. Four-leaf clover.

Art Donaldson plays tennis very well.

When you're around?

He's better.

O2 Arena, London, England. ATP men's singles finals.

Naturally the only way you'd ever get close to something like this was on her invitation.

Tashi had invited you.

"I beg your pardon?"

"We'll cover your flights and accommodation- it's important that you're there."

Yes, because you were sure you could sweet talk your way into a lesson with Lily at Buckingham Palace.

Obviously, obviously it wasn't about your silly little tennis lessons these days. But that was the front.

Rich neighbourhood, nosey neighbourhood.

"Tashi, I couldn't help but notice Art's Jeep drive past me as I left Pilates. Just who was that pretty young thing in his passenger seat?"

"She's Lily's tennis coach, he drops her off when she's had to stay late."

Yeah,

yeah.

Drops you off because your legs aren't their best when they've been over his shoulders for an hour.

It was a pretty good front.

So you found yourself courtside in a Lacoste skirt you'd never imagine owning. That's why you didn't own it, Tashi had left it on your bed among other items of clothing she expected to see you in.

Dress-up doll.

Her plaything.

Pulled out of your thoughts by the chorus of cheer, it was all directed to the movement you could just and only see out the corner of your eye.

Art Donaldson took the court with a kind of swagger that made your thighs tense under expensive material. His eyes took to the stands- sweeping over adoring eyes looking back at him.

And then he came to rest.

You could tell he looked at Tashi first, the way his shoulders straightened and the grip on his racquet became even tighter.

Miracle it didn't snap.

Then you felt him look at you, his eyes softened and the corner of his mouth turned up.

A smug smirk as he ran his tongue along his teeth.

And you began to think back on everything that lead you here.

-

You had found yourself in many precarious situations with Art.

And you were acutely aware of the fact you hadn't seen it.

You'd felt it- felt it against your thigh, the heat of your cunt,

fuck, you'd even felt it against the sole of your foot.

Ruined numerous pairs of Calvin Klein's in the process.

But you'd never seen it.

And it wasn't a topic of contention, it wasn't a 'you' thing per se.

It was actually the fact that Art about blacks out every time you make him cum, and that's through a good few layers of clothing.

The thought of getting it out and laying it against your bare skin? Putting it in your mouth? Putting it inside-

Even the the idea of it makes his eyes water. Blessing and a curse, really.

On one hand, he's guaranteed a mind-blowing orgasm.

On the other, it might only last a few seconds.

You were just happy to be there.

Art could give you everything or give you nothing and you'd lap it up every time.

Good girl.

Art looked good like this, he always looked good but there was something about this.

Sat on the couch, thighs spread, large hands balled up on his knees. When you were in this position- on your own knees before him, with reverence- he looked good.

He looked all consuming.

If you asked him, it wasn't a sight Art was used to, something something role reversal.

Your hands ran along the coarse hairs of his legs, ever-so-slightly getting closer to the bottom of his shorts.

(Post-tennis, still a little sweaty- heavy musk if you really got your face in there)

"We'll go as slow as you need, Art."

However he wants it, whenever he wants it.

Quarter to midnight on Tuesday, you were meant to be doing an ungodly load of laundry tonight. But then he'd looked at you, then he'd told you he 'needed' you.

Turns out whatever he wants looks a lot like what you want.

Obedience in spades.

He stopped you before your hands could go any further, opting to reach under the waistband himself. You were all the better for it, too focused on not giving up the extent of your excitement.

Was it weird to say you'd spent a lot of time imaging what his cock looked like?

Probably.

You reasoned it with the fact you knew Art spent a lot of time thinking about what happens under your pretty little tennis skirts. That and he'd seen it more times than you could count, these days.

Things always seem to go his way.

Your breath caught in your throat when Art hooked his thumb around the waistband, stretching the elastic so he could get it out.

Of course, of course it was as pretty as the rest of him.

Flushed pink at the tip, pale and creamy down the length of it. Kind of thing you need to get your lips around.

Banked for another day.

One hand cradling the back of your head, the other wrapped around the base- Art slapped his cock once, twice on your outstretched tongue.

"A-ahh, f-uck- okay-"

Nice and slow- can't have him blowing the top off just yet.

He couldn't really say you were helping the point. Sitting there, sitting pretty, primed and ready for whatever he wants next.

The sight along was enough material to tug his cock to for the rest of his life.

Let alone being faced with it.

Which is why he did just that- tugged his cock to it.

Long fingers wrapped around a long cock, twisting along the length of it, rolling the palm over the head. Sticky wetness catching in the centre of his palm as he drags it back along the shaft.

Your tongue stayed permanently outstretched, allowing him to slap the weeping tip right on it. If it wasn't your tongue, it was your cheek- wherever he could gain purchase with your skin without tipping himself over the edge.

Yet.

Eventually, Art came in filthy hot ropes across your face and the most minimal amount actually made it in your mouth.

Majority of it was painted across your cheeks, drawn up and sweet under your shining eyes. Bright smile stretched across your face beneath pearly little drops.

Pretty girl-

perfect girl.

-

"I'm sorry- I just need- oh, oh god- just need-"

Incoherent.

A bleary-eyed, incoherent Art.

Chest pressed tight to your back, shorts around his thighs- your little skirt bunched up tight in his fist.

"I need this- I need this- y'so good to me- I need this-"

Yeah, seems like it.

You'd only managed 15 minutes on the court before it'd come to this. Art had thrown his racquet to the wind and ushered you around the side of their changing shed- the same one where he first,

You know?

Yeah.

You'd actually headed for the door but he couldn't wait that long, pulled you between the wall and the tall fence that circled the court. You were both nestled in beneath an Arabian Gingerbread Palm of sorts- naturally.

Art had slipped your underwear to the side and mounted you like a fucking dog.

Desperate.

The sound of his taut thighs slapping against yours was fucking ludicrous, the sight would’ve managed something worse.

He had a look across his face that said he knew this was pathetic- that there was no way he should’ve been rutting into you in broad fucking daylight.

But it’s not like you could see that look, not when his face was pressed into your neck.

“Ohh, you just- you just feel so good.”

Was he crying?

You looped an arm around the back of his head, slowly stroking your nails against his scalp as you struggled to keep yourself from buckling under the pressure.

Your other arm stretched out in front of you, palm braced on the wall as Art continued the relentless piston of his hips.

Through tears even.

“Feels so good, Art- making me feel so fucking good- just rub my clit, touch me a little.”

In an instant, his fingers were under the front of your skirt as he rubbed haphazard circles around the apex of your cunt.

“Like this? You like this? Tell me I’m doing a good job, please.”

Jesus Christ.

“Yes- doing a good job, you always do so good- gonna’ make me cum.”

And like you’d said the magic word, Art was going rigid. Hips slamming into you with a couple brutal and unyielding thrusts, less precision than you were used to with him.

Til’ he was dripping out of you.

His fingers kept going.

Until your face was pressed was pressed against the changing shed wall, sure to leave a lovely pattern of stucco on your skin.

Until you were babbling and canting your hips back onto his hand as drool ran down the side of your cheek.

Until you even realised that he’d dropped to his knees and was running his tongue through your cunt from the back, massive hands splitting your cheeks.

You reached a hand back to grip his hair, pulling his face even further into the sodden lips of your pussy as you fucked yourself back onto his tongue.

“That’s it- lick my cunt, Art. See how good you taste?”

Your ears stopped ringing long enough for you to hear it.

He makes that noise when he cums.

Again.

Tashi watched you both drag your feet back into the house- a sheen of sweat over you both that could’ve looked post-tennis.

To anyone else but her.

She let you pass without issue, but a fine hand pressed to Art’s chest as he tried to follow you to the showers.

“If I ever see you cum before her again, there will be trouble. Understood?”

There was no use explaining that you didn’t mind, that you kind of liked when you riled him up- made him lose control.

That he probably deserved to feel good.

Instead, you heard him murmur an apology before he finally got you under the monsoon shower head in the enormous guest bathroom.

Three more good ones on his tongue, just for good measure.

-

It was a miracle the Donaldson-Duncan mantelpiece didn't crumble under the immense weight of success.

Trophy, after trophy, after photo, after-

"Did Tashi meet Obama?"

Art chuckles over your shoulder as he watches you cradle the photo, eyes wide with admiration. Devotion?

"She did, he invited her to the White House the year before we got engaged."

"Your invite get lost in the mail?"

"It wasn't about me."

Is anything ever about him?

As you continued your impassioned scan of their family treasures, you came to a complete stop at a 5x7 frame.

"Is this a young Art Donaldson?"

You could feel his eyes on you as you lifted the frame with the same gentle touch as you'd lent to Tashi's photo.

This time, your fingers gingerly brushed over the glass- almost as if you could feel the crop of golden curls beneath your fingertips.

"You've never seen any of my earlier games? Junior doubles at the US Open?"

Taking your eyes off a very-pretty-young Art, you threw him a look that said something like 'be so serious.'

"No, I wasn't much for watching tennis as a- what? Six year old?"

Oh.

That's right.

It was impossible for Art to forget the elephant in the room- call him a dirty old man but Art was always thinking about the pretty young thing that he liked best in his lap.

But sometimes he forgot.

"Well, that's me the day Patrick and I won."

"Who's Patrick?"

Oh.

And just like that he's chubbing up in his pants.

Art Donaldson currently exists in a space and time where he has something that Patrick doesn't.

And you're none the fucking wiser.

How could you be? You're still enamoured with the shaggy golden curls and the unspoken pull of a backwards cap.

"Yeah, you would've driven me wild back in the day."

There's a wry smile that catches on the corner of his mouth, right at the same moment he takes the photo from you. You're forced back to reality, present day-

The one where Art's a few years older but still as devastatingly handsome.

"Would've?"

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, feeling a firm chest pressing against your shoulder blades. Feeling crowded.

Feeling caught.

"As if I don't already."

Art spends the evening reminding you of your place.

That, despite the age between you, he's still the one that runs rings.

-

Contrary to popular belief, Art Donaldson has bad days.

Unfortunately for just about everyone in the O2 Arena, he chose today.

Well, the fates decided on today.

As he thrashed his racquet through the air, you could've sworn you heard the 'woosh' it was sure to have made from all the way up here.

Tense, you were slumped in your seat as you couldn't escape the voice in your head-

the one that was telling you your luck had run out.

The one that still sounds a lot like Tashi Duncan.

"COME ON!"

Tashi's voice actually sounded from beside you, making you jump out of your skin.

Naturally, you began searching for Art- searching for something to do, someway to fix this. What was left for you if you couldn't be lucky.

Rabbits foot. Horse shoe. Triple sevens. Four-leaf clover.

Nowhere to be found- but you found Art, found his eyes.

Looking at you.

Pleading with you.

Come on.

There was that pathetic little gaze you'd come to know. When he wanted something, when he needed something.

Art Donaldson always gets what he wants.

You jumped a little when you felt Tashi's hand rest on your knee where it crossed over the other. Perfect manicure drumming against your kneecap, gripping once.

Gripping twice.

Gently, prying it away from the other till they were side by side.

Thighs being forced apart.

Suddenly acutely aware that Art's eyes weren't on your face anymore.

They were on Tashi's hand.

Acutely aware that, among all the pretty things she'd laid out on your bed this morning, there wasn't a pair of panties among them.

That same perfect manicure between your spread thighs, patting you once, twice- right where her husband had made a home.

Under a lucky star.

Art Donaldson had a penchant for getting what he wants.

With an unmatched performance, the arena was turned on its head. Neon green blitz across the court, landing right where he wanted it to.

The crowd cheered his name to a tune only he knew;

How to be a winner.

All guts, all glory.

The deafening commotion chewed you up but it was Art that spat you out. Amongst the noise, the fury, you found him stood staring right at you.

Expectantly.

The weight of responsibility on your chest. Your luck hadn't run out, it was only just the beginning.

To the victor go the spoils.

Somewhere, a rabbit was missing it's foot.

[cheriladycl01]

Double the Interviews - Oscar Piastri x GreekOlympicTennis! Reader

Plot: WAG duties consist of you literally being in more interviews than Oscar because of your outgoing and bubbly personality.

"Y/N can we have a minute of your time please?" an interviewer asks pulling you away from your friend who you look over at. She smiles at you and nods, making her way back to the McLaren garage.

"How are you feeling about the race tomorrow?" he asks and you put a serious face on.

"Yeah, I think the car's got good pace, looking to be in some top positions and I'm excited to see what happens!" you nod and the interviewer holds back their laugh.

"Spoken like a true driver!" he chuckles and you start to laugh as well.

"How are you feeling knowing come summer you'll be competing in the Olympics for Greece in Paris while Oscar is also competing in his own sport?" he asks and you nod, carefully listening to the question to not misunderstand him.

"Yeah of course. You know it's always hard when you have those conflicting schedules especially in athlete relationships. You know I'm still competing in ATP and I have been for a while, and then going into the Olympics on top of that is just immense. I get to travel with my best friend who I've played tennis with since 3 years old but at the same time Osc isn't there all the time. I think that's why today is just so important to me, to be here to support him at his home race!" you smile to the man in front of you who slowly pulls the mic back towards him.

"Will we be seeing Oscar at the Olympics this year?" he asks.

"I think at this stage it's hard to tell, F1 has the longest and busiest schedule to date this year and there's more stress and pressure on the drivers than ever with all the changes taking place ahead of 2025 and 2026, so you know I'd love Oscar to be able to come and see me take home another medal, but again it's one of those moments where you can't be in two places at once!" you explain, knowing he'd already planned to come for your first event of the summer, and would try and stay with you, until it ended for you. But even he didn't know when McLaren would request for him in Woking, or if he'd go home to spend a little needed time with his family.

"Well, I think it's safe to say we are all wishing for Gold for you again this year. Good luck to you and Y/BFF/N who we did see earlier, but dipped away last minute before i could invite her!" he smiles at you, and you smile back.

"You'll see us at the Olympics up at the very top. We promise!" you give the camera a cheesy grin before saying your goodbye's and leaving him to question the next driver who was eagerly waiting behind you.

"There you are!" you hear the Australian accent you knew all to well from your left.

"Hey baby!" you smile, leaning up and placing a soft kiss on Oscar's cheek.

"Saw Y/BFF/N come back without you, when she told me you were stolen for an interview i thought i'd come see if you needed saving" he softly tells you placing a light and gentle hand in your smiling softly down at you.

"Ah, you see baby that is where we are completely and utterly different. I love talking to all your work colleagues!" you say, pulling his hand along so you can both walk back together. You wave at people as you walk past saying small hello's and posing for any camera's you spot in your peripheral.

"You consider the media work colleagues of mine?" he asks with a low laugh that has you cocking your head to one side in question.

"You don't?" you offer back.

"No, my colleagues are my team and the other drivers!" he admits with a blank look on his face that just screams that no cogs are turning up there.

"I mean, you work with the media every time your here. I'd say you work with them, they might not be on your team but they are still apart of your sport!" you admit, he goes to argue but you put a soft finger on his lip.

"Would you consider my ball boy's as my colleagues?" you ask, and he thinks for a second before sighing and nodding.

"There you go then! F1 interviewers are your work colleagues and i like talking to them, they always have very insightful questions!" you smile.

"Insightful or invasive?" he queries looking across at you, brows a little furrowed.

"Damn, you really are a young Kimi Raikkonen. I see what the fans mean now!" you laugh at his expression which quickly tries to change but the frown lines remain.

"God, we need to go back to my mum's for some rest and relaxation" you sigh, starting to massage his wrist and up his arm making him sigh.

"Mmmm, we do I really miss that one dish that she makes us!"

"The Tzatziki with the roasted meat and vegetable kebabs or Moussaka?" you ask looking over at him knowing he enjoyed both.

"Oh! I was thinking of the Moussaka, but the Tzatziki is good. My trainer actually said that it was the perfect mix!" he admitted, still holding that blank expression.

"But he tells you off for the Honey Cake!" you sigh knowing that it was a delicacy you didn't get very often too, being an athlete and all meant that you had to have a very strict diet and couldn't lie to your trainer about cheat days you'd have.

"Okay but that Honey Cake is lethal! You cant stop when you start eating it!" he says before starting to quietly ramble about all his favorite foods as you enter the confides of his driver room away from the public eye.

You cant help but just watch and smile at him, people rarely get to see this funny talkative side of Oscar that could actually out ramble you sometimes which should be near impossible as you were very much a yapper. Especially when you got passionate and would slip in some of you mother tongue without realizing.

"What?, Why are you staring at me?" he asks, after realizing he'd started to rant.

"I just love watching you talk, you nose scrunches when you get passionate about a topic and it's cute" you smile, looking down knowing he'd be a blushing mess.

"Shut up! You are the yapper here, start yapping!" he says, making you burst out laughing while he goes to sit down on the small sofa.

"I'm going to miss you next week!" you sigh as you sit down on his lap where he wraps his arms tightly around you and rests his head in the crook of you neck.

"I know, but I'll come see you at your next tournament after the triple-header!" he smiles, kissing against your neck your body relaxing against his.

"It's just hard, god I'm clingy!" you attempt to laugh the tears away.

"Lando wants to know if you and Y/BFF/N are down for a rematch" he smirks changing the conversation to a more light-hearted one.

"Oh you boys are so on!" you grin.

y/user

Liked by oscarpiastri and landonorris

y/user: Photo Dump from the boyf’s homeland! Love you Australia 🇦🇺

View all 278 comments

oscarpiastri: it was fun playing doubles with you and y/bff/n. Best you next time

landonorris: these guys are kinda good at tennis yo!

-> y/user: does the gold medal mean nothing to you?

-> landonorris: not really :0

-> y/user: well … Osc?

-> oscarpiastri: don’t involve me :(

Your Instagram Story Caption:

Double Trouble in Stralia ����🇺

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[b0r3dtod3ath]

i’d love to request a fic where maybe ben gets asked about you (his gf) at a post game interview and he just spills about how much he luvs u <333

Cw: fem!reader (she/her)

An: thank you for requesting!!!! I hope you like it.

Ben had just come off the court after a hard-fought victory, his veins buzzing with post-match adrenaline. As he stepped into the press room, he was met with dozen of camera flashes and eager reporters which he was already used to by now. As he settled into his seat and adjusted the microphone in front of him, he flashed his trademark grin, filling fans’ stomachs with butterflies.

“Ben, congratulations on the win!” one reporter began. “Your performance was outstanding. How are you feeling right now?”. He smiled, running a hand through his slightly damp hair. “I’m feeling great. It was a tough match, it wasn’t so easy beating my opponent, but I’m glad I could pull through. The crowd was amazing, their support really kept me going”.

Next few questions were standard: strategies, key moments and his thoughts on the upcoming rounds. The player answered them with his usual confidence. Then, a reporter in the back raised her hand and asked a question that took him by surprise. “Hi, you seem to be on top of your game both on and off the court. We’ve heard rumours about your personal life. You recently shared a picture on Instagram with a girl that is assumed to be your girlfriend. How does she influence your game?” Ben’s eyes lit up and his expression softened at the mention of you. The room fell quiet, eager to hear about a mysterious girl that captured Ben’s heart. “Oh, you want to know about my girlfriend, huh? Well, where do I even start?” He took a deep breath, collecting all the racing thoughts of you. He leaned closer to the microphone, his eyes sparkling with affection “She’s incredible. She’s my biggest supporter, my rock. She keeps me confident and makes sure I don’t get too overconfident. Knowing she’s cheering on me gives me lots of strength”. A few reporters exchanged smiles and whispers, charmed at Ben’s emotional words. “Could you tell us a bit more about her?” another reporter asked.­­

“I mean.. Sure, her name is Y/N, and she’s my best friend and my biggest fan. We have been dating for some time now. She’s been there for me through thick and thin, and I can’t imagine my life without her. She helps me really think and look for good in every situation, pushes me to be a better version of myself, both on and off the court. She’s truly my inspiration”. A hint of blush crept onto his cheeks. The room fell even more silent than before, amazed at the confession. Then, the next reporter cleared his throat and brought the conversation back to tennis, but Ben’s mind was drifting to thoughts of you. He couldn’t wait to get home, to celebrate his victory. As the interview wrapped up, he felt a sense of relief and excitement. He pulled out his phone and smiled at your message where you congratulated him with way too much emojis, before sending you a quick text: “Just finished the interview. Can’t wait to see you. Love you <33”.

As Ben shared a peek into his private life that day, he became even more charming to everyone around, especially you.

June 1, 2024 (btw happy children’s day to everyone!)

[idksmtms]

Tennis Masterlist

A/N: Guys. I couldn't handle the deficit in fanfics about my fav tennis dudes so I had to do this. I had to. Requests for my tennis fics are OPEN so feel free to request whoever you want (from this list)!

Disclaimer: Though it is based off of real people, this is written purely for fictional purposes and for the sake of writing. No disrespect is intended to the real people portrayed/concerned in this scenario.

Carlos (Carlitos <3) Alcaraz

Request: Courtside - (Carlos Alcaraz x Actress!reader)

After gaining success from your latest movie, you are invited to watch the Wimbledon Men's Final 2023. You just so happen to be a certain player's favourite actress.

Request: Don't Be Nervous - (Carlos Alcaraz x reader)

Carlos is taking you home for the weekend to finally meet his family! It's totally normal to be nervous, right?

Jannik Sinner

Coming soon...

Holger Rune

Request: Just Like A Gentleman - (Holger Rune x reader)

Holger takes you out on a cute little dinner date!

Request: First Kiss - (Holger Rune x reader)

The first time you and Holger kiss!

Hubert Hurkacz

Coming soon...

Ben Shelton

Coming soon...

Jack Draper

Coming soon...

Others that I will only write for if requested!

[rvblos]

hope ur doing well! i love ur work, and was wondering if u could wrote a ben shelton headcanon abt what he'd be like as a bf? thank uu 🫶🏻

sfw/nsfw headcanons - ben shelton

warnings: this contains nsfw so if you're not comfortable with it just dont read it !!

notes: i literally can't stop thinking about him so here are some headcanons!

sfw:

- he's so boyfriend energy

-he's be the most romantic guy you've ever met

-he looooves to take you out on fancy dates but he enjoys even staying home to watch a movie under a cozy blanket

-he is so supportive! and adores when you'd come to see him during important matches or even during practice.

-he knows he can always count on you, even when he loses he knows that your arms would always be open for him to comfort him after a loss.

-this man always has to touch you! physical contact is his love language.

-but not always in a sexual way, sometimes he just needs to feel your skin against his yk

-he'd slip a finger underneath your shirt and he'd start to trace little circles on your skin.

-he's so cute ugh

-loves to bring you flowers!!

-sometimes even a single rose could lift your mood

-loves having you caressing his curls!

nsfw:

- lets talk about his arms

- omfg and his shoulders

- the way you'd be gripping on them during sex makes his head spin and he'd become even harder than he already is

-it's so easy for him to find your weakest spots, he know them too well

- his arms would be circled around your waist as he pounds into you omfg

- and his finger would trace circular patterns on your skin

- "shhh.. baby its okay..." PLEASE

- he has the DEEPEST voice i swear to god

- like humming and moaning in the deepest tone ever

- "take it like a big girl" murmured in your ear ARE YOU CRAZY

- also i think hed be very vocal

- he whimpers A LOT trying to to change my mind

- especially when receiving head 😃

- "mhmm... please, oh please... faster.. mhm.."

[forgave-me-not]

☆ the love game ☆ b.s.

just a little blurb to clear the mind warnings: fluff, a bit suggestive

"ugh, you always kick my ass in chess," ben groaned, covering his face and falling back on the rug. you just looked at him and laughed. "and checkers and connect four and dominoes. admit it baby, I'm just too good." you crawl over and beam down at him.

ben sighs. "oh fine. you're...just too good." he mumbles the last bit, trying to get a reaction out of you. it works. "huh? i didn't hear that. could you speak up for me," you say with a smirk. ben sits up on his elbows. "you're. just. too. good. happy now?"

you smile. "happy as a clam." you lay down next to him and put a hand on his chest. "what should we do now? i'm bored," you say cuddling up against his body. "oh really? after all that action in our last game?" you can practically hear him rolling his eyes.

"well, there is one game that we can play. but i only play it with a very special person." ben rolls over to face you. "and who is this person?"

you giggle at his eagerness. "well. they're tall. says they're 6'4'," you look around the living room like there could be anybody listening and then drop your voice to a whisper. "but i think they're lying." ben cocks his head to the side. you continue.

"and they smile. like a lot. and their name starts with a b." ben's eye's widen. "ends with an n." you blink sultrily.

"my dad?"

"oh my god, you're such a moron," you say laughing. ben wraps his arm around your waist. you wiggle from his grasp and shuffle to the couch. "never ever would i say something about that lovely man," you say as the first pillow lands on his face. "you're such a chi-," ben starts. he's cut off by your assault that left every pillow you owned on top of him. satisfied with your handiwork, you stand up, dust yourself off, and put away your chess board. you were just about to make it out of the room before you hear ben's muffled voice.

he moves the pillows from on top of him and places them under his head. "soo, we still gonna play that game," ben calls out from the floor. you lean against the door frame. "we'll have to see about that." a smile simultaneously spreads across both of your faces. ben scrambles to his feet as you spin around the corner and skip to your bedroom. you knew boredom wouldn't be an issue for the rest of the evening.

[saragarnier]

Hi, can you please write something about jannik being a jeleous boyfriend (not red flag😂)? Thank youuuu

Jealousy

summary: Jannikh as always been a jealous boyfriend in a good way

Pairing: Jannik Sinner x reader

warning: none, maybe bad english

A/N: i'm sorry if it took a long time to write it, i had few ideas and i didn't know which one was better. i really hope you enjoyed it

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Jannik was the one person who would have done everything he could to make everyone around him feeling good and happy; he was the one person who would have done everything to make everyone smiles around him. He was always so kind and gentle, he was always open to help everyone who needed it and it was like that even with you. Everyone would have noticed the good person he was just seeing him on the tv, how respectful he was with his opponents and with the referee, even if they weren’t respectful as he was.

One thing, however, that no one else except you knew, was that he was a jealous person, really jealous.  Not in a bad way, he never tried to impose himself on you, he never told you what to do, what to wear or how to behave; he was respectful with you, and he let you choose for yourself, even if, sometimes, he did not agree.

Sometimes you just messed around with him on purpose, trying to make him jealous just for the fun of it; you loved seeing him jealous when someone else tried to flirt with you, you loved the way he just reached you as soon as he noticed, marking his territory, and making clear that you were his. You just loved that because you knew that he was jealous in a good way, in a cute way. He wasn’t like he didn’t trust you or anything like that, he just wanted to be sure that everyone else knew that you were his girlfriend, he wanted to make sure that everyone knew that they didn’t stand a chance with you, since you were taken.

When you argued, even for the smallest thing, you used to make him jealous on purpose, just to messed around with him, that day, was one of those occasions.

You argued just few hours before, when he refused to show you what he was actually hiding from you; you discovered that when you exited the bathroom after the shower and when you saw him hiding something in his pocket immediately. You tried to ask what it was, but he didn’t tell and that made you curious about it. What was he hiding from you? Why was he hiding something in the first place? You were together for four years after all and he never hided anything from you, like you did with him after all. You were always sincere to each other, and you just couldn’t understand for what reason he was starting to hide things from you now, after all those years together.

You tried to discovered what’s that all about, but he didn’t tell you, he just kept saying that it wasn’t nothing important and he ended the discussion like that, telling you to get ready. You sighed, but you had no time to argue with him any longer, that’s why you got ready, wearing your dress and fixing you hair and your make up.

There was this dinner with most of the Italian tennis player and you just couldn’t miss it, even if you lost all the desire to accompany your boyfriend after the discussion you had, especially since you were left with no explanations. When you arrived at the dinner, that was obviously formal, you were by Jannik’s side, and you stayed with him while he greeted everyone he knew. You kept biting your lips, smiling softly at people you didn’t know trying to see if someone you knew arrived.

Then, finally, you saw Lorenzo Musetti with his girlfriend, Veronica.

“I’ll be right back, Jan.” You said, leaving him alone with a man you didn’t know. He followed you with his eyes all the way towards Veronica and Lorenzo and he immediately sighed in relief, worried that you were still angry at him and that you weren’t feeling good about it. He was relieved to know that you went to talk to Veronica, since he perfectly knew that she was one of your closest friends.

He looked again at the person he was talking to, while you greeted Lorenzo and Veronica with a smile.

“Hi beautiful!” Veronica said, smiling and hugging you at once. You smiled back, hugging her and also Lorenzo with a warm smile.

“Hi, how are you, guys?” You smiled back, looking at them. “Parenthood suits you.”

“Thank you, Y/n.” Lorenzo smiled, taking his girlfriend’s hand, and caressing it gently.

“How’s Ludovico?” You asked, smiling even more when Veronica took out her phone and showed you some photos of their child, that was growing faster then expected. “God, he’s beautiful.”

“Thank you, y/n.” They both smiled back, then Lorenzo looked around, trying to find Jannik. “Where’s Jan?”

“He’s talking with someone back there.” You pointed him, watching as Lorenzo kissed his girlfriend’s cheeks before walking towards your boyfriend. You sighed when you met Jannik’s gaze, looking immediately away and catching Veronica’s attention.

“Are you guys okay?” She asked politely, looking at you and placing a hand on your arm when she noticed how sad and concerned you looked. “Hey, what happened, y/n?”

“We argued.” You whispered, shaking your head slightly. “It’s nothing bad but... I don’t know. It’s strange for us to argue about something this stupid. I saw him hiding something from me, but he didn’t want to tell me what that was and… I don’t know, Veronica. It’s not usual for us to hide something from each other.”

She listened to you, trying to reassure you as much as she could. She didn’t know what to say to you since she didn’t know Jannik as well as you, but she tried to make you feel better.

“Don’t worry, Y/n, I’m pretty sure that’s something stupid. If your worried, though, I can try to ask Lorenzo if he knows something.”

You nodded and gave her a small smile. “Thank you, I would really appreciate it.”

Veronica and you kept talking about everything for a few minutes, before Lorenzo called her; she smiled at you, apologising, then she walked towards his boyfriend to greet one of his friends; you stayed there, watching Jannik talking with another man you didn’t meet before, then you looked around and you recognized Matteo Berrettini few feet away. You looked back at your boyfriend, then you walked towards the brown man, still angry with Jannik to just pretend that nothing happened. You were still too upset to pretend that everything was okay, that’s why you reached Matteo, that was alone.

“Hi Matteo, what are you doing here all alone?” You asked, smiling when he offered you a glass of wine he took from one of the waiters that were walking around the room between the guests. You accepted it, thanking him and drinking it.

“Hi y/n.” He smiled, taking a sip of wine. “I’m drowning my sorrows in the wine, it’s not obvious?” He chuckled.

“Oh, well we can do that together if you want.” You whispered, looking at Jannik for just a moment. You met his gaze and you knew at once that he was starting to get jealous, seeing you but Matteo’s side and not his own.

“Problems in paradise?” Matteo asked, following your gaze and looking at Jannik too.

“Yeah…” you whispered. “And you? Why are you so sad?”

“Oh, I still have to elaborate the end of my relationships with… well my ex-girlfriend now.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” You whispered, placing a hand on his shoulders and trying to reassure him as well as you could. “If you need someone to talk to, count on me.”

Matteo smiled immediately and lean out to place a kiss on your cheeks, in a friend way. You definitely knew that he was just trying to thank you, but Jannik didn’t appreciate it at all, especially when you placed your hands on his shoulder, trying to reassure him. When you saw Matteo with his eyes glossy, you leaned out and you hugged him.

“Do you want to go out for a minute?” You whispered, knowing that, probably, he didn’t want to cry in front of people he didn’t know very well, in front of people that weren’t his friends.

“Yeah, maybe it’s better.” He said, drinking the last sip of wine before following you outside, where he hided his face between his hands, trying not to cry.

When Jannik saw you hugging him that way and when he saw you two going out together, he just couldn’t repress his jealousy anymore; he apologized with the people he was talking to, then he followed you outside, trying to find you in the dark of the night.

You were by Matteo’s side when Jannik found you; he looked at you from afar, while you trying to reassure Matteo with some hugs and caresses. You kept caressing his back, consoling him while he cried silently; he was broken inside and he needed someone by his side, he needed a friend and you wanted to be helpful for him. You didn’t notice Jannik at first, but you couldn’t care less about it while Matteo was crying.

Jannik didn’t understood t first what was happening between you two: he definitely knew that you weren’t cheating on him or anything like that, but he couldn’t help but be jealous of Matteo, because you preferred to by his side instead of your boyfriend’s. He knew you were still upset about what happened between you two and he thought that you were just messing around with him on purpose, to make him feeling jealous. And, if that was the case, it was definitely working.

Jannik wrapped an arm around your shoulder, leaving a kiss on your head and catching both your and Matte’s attention.

“Are you okay, love?” He asked at first. Then, when he noticed Matteo’s state, he got worried at once. “What happened, man?”

Matteo dried his own tears, trying to stop crying. He looked up at Jannik and tried his best to smile at him.

“Don’t worry, Jan… it’s nothing important.” He said, noticing Jannik’s gaze and his arms around your shoulders; he wasn’t stupid, nor blind, he knew that Jannik must have been jealous of him and that’s why he just smiled at both you and Jannik. “Thank you for your help, y/n. I really appreciate it. I’ll leave you alone now. Thanks again.”

Before you could even stop him from getting inside, Matteo was gone and only you and Jannik left.

“You’re a dick, Jan.” you whispered, adding some distance between you two. “You don’t have the right to be jealous this time, especially since you’re hiding something from me.”

“Y/n, please…” Jannik tried to explain himself, but you were right. You didn’t know the reason why he lied to you, and you have all the rights to be angry at him after all he did. He didn’t want to tell it to you like that, but he had no choice, he didn’t like to see you like that.

He put his hand inside the pocket, looking around to be sure that no one was nearby. When you were still arguing about everything that happened, Jannik knelt in front of you, with a small red box in his hand. He waited till you noticed what was happening and, when you did, you were left speechless.

“W-What… Jan?”

“I wanted to tell you after this stupid dinner, but I can’t wait, and I can’t deal with you being angry at me. I know that I had no rights to be jealous, but I’m jealous because I love you with all my heart. I wasn’t trying to hide anything from you, I just wanted to prepare a surprise, I wanted to surprise you. I can’t live another day without you being by my side. I want you to be my wife, I want you to be the love of my life permanently. I love you with all my heart, y/n. Do you want to marry me? Do you want to be my wife?”

You looked at him, tears streaming down your cheeks.

You were too shocked to answer him, and it made Jannik more nervous after every second. He looked at you, fear in his eyes, then you practically jumped on him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Yes!” You exclaimed, smiling through tears. “Yes, I’d love to be your wife.”

He put the ring on your finger, smiling when he saw that he got the size right.

“Thank God I got the size right.” He smiled, placing a kiss on your lips. “Veronica helped me with that.”

“What? She didn’t say anything when I told her that we argued!” You replied.

“Well, I asked her not to… it would have ruined the surprise, don’t you think?”

You nodded slightly, kissing him again and caressing his hair gently. “You’re right, but don’t you dare to hide anything from me ever again. I thought you didn’t trust me anymore…”

Jannik smiled again, shaking his head. “Don’t worry, babe. I won’t hide anything again from you, okay?

“You better not.” You smiled looking down at the ring with glossy eyes. “I can’t believe I’m becoming Mrs. Sinner.”

Jannik smiled again. “I can’t believe I’ll be your husband. I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

“I love you, Jan.”

“I love you too, my future wife.”

“Oh, shut up.” You laughed when he called you like that, even if you loved hearing that.

“What? I’ve only started. Wait ‘till be come back inside, I’ll present you as my fiancé and I can’t wait to make sure that everyone knows it.”

You smiled again. “So, you’ll stop to be jealous? Because I actually love to mess around with you and your jealousy.”

“Oh, trust me I know it. And don’t worry, I won’t stop to be jealous of my woman, even if she’s my wife.”

“Good to know:” You smiled, kissing him again.

[carajilloplz]

Omg can u write a fic abt Art Donaldson and Patrick trying to hit on foreign exchange student!reader, could end in fluff or smut

no bc this is literally my fantasy i’m an international student at a D1 tennis school IM GONNA GO FERAL. loosely based off of my experience with the cornell men’s tennis team but we’re not talking about that.

warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI, patrick x international student!tennis player!reader, this might be bad i wrote this over the course of like 3 days and changed the plot completely lol, smoking and drinking, oral!male and female receiving, facesitting, technically cheating? vague but everything is morally dubious with these three, unprotected p in v, hair pulling

uh enjoy ig i hope it's not too bad

Tashi? You’d known her since forever. You attended the same tennis camp when you were girls and never lost contact. Having played a few matches during Juniors, you stayed pretty close. So when you saw her on your match schedule for the upcoming month, you shot her a text saying you had to go out together when you were at Stanford for the weekend.

Your match rolled around and you were definitely focused. Winning meant you stayed at the top of your conference, which wasn’t the ATP ranking but it was still important to you. So you trained, and hard. You were a good player, quick on your feet, and the training paid off in your first doubles game that weekend. Before your game, you got to catch a wave and a smile from Tashi sitting in the stands, next to a mousy-looking blonde guy and a very cocky brunette. You noted that the brunette was more your type, but the blonde was cute enough. Must have been Tashi’s friends.

You started your match, extremely harmonious with your partner, and you swiftly caught every ball headed your way. From the stands, Art and Patrick were shamelessly throwing around comments as they saw the ball bounce back and forth.

 “She has an insane serve. I heard she’s like a tennis prodigy in her country.” Art gushes, getting cut off by Patrick quickly with “I don’t know how you’re paying attention to her serve when she has such nice legs. I’d like to have those wrapped around my head soon.” 

Winning the game 4-6, you were happy with the result. 

You watched Tashi play her doubles match, flawlessly annihilating your teammates. When the time came for yours and Tashi’s match, you felt the playfully challenging energy in the air. Patrick and Art were at the edge of their seats, and as the game started they both were practically drooling at the match. They couldn’t decide whether to look at you, or Tashi, or the ball. Both you and Tashi were smoothly tearing each other to shreds, grunting and running around, you always catching the ball just in time. 

“I don’t know how she’s doing it but I think she’s going to beat Tashi” Art mumbles, slumped into his seat as he switched his focus from the ball, to the way you moved, to your figure.

“I call dibs” replies Patrick. He was staring at you too, staring intently and admiring the way your arm smoothly hit the ball with a thwack in a way that threw Tashi off. 

“Don’t do that to Tashi.” mumbled Art again, playfully hitting the brunette next to him. He didn’t even take his eyes off of you. He knew too damn well that Patrick could not care less, and didn’t know whether to feel for you or Tashi. Pat and Tashi had been having a rough time anyways, so it was really a matter of time before either of them caved.

Finishing the match, you and Tashi gave each other a friendly hug. You noticed that the two boys that had been sitting with Tashi were rushing down to congratulate the two of them. 

“Great game, babe.” The brunette said, giving Tashi a small peck. You noticed that she didn’t really appreciate the gesture. The boy turned to you, “And this is?”

Tashi introduced you, explaining that you went to tennis camp together, the whole history. “And these two idiots are Art and Patrick.”

“Nice to meet you too, you guys play tennis?” you ask, intrigued but it was kind of obvious.

Art answers before Patrick can open his mouth— “Yeah, I play here at Stanford too, I’m just injured right now,” he says, pointing to his shoulder, which had muscle tape peeking from the sleeve of his shirt. “Pat’s just… there.”

“Hey! I play too, dipshit. I’m playing the Miami Open in a few weeks.”

Tashi was done with her games of the day, and said she’d be taking a short break. “I’m going to take a shower and heading to bars later, want to come?” She asks.”You can come and get ready in my dorm with me.” You nod in approval, following them as you headed to the locker rooms. Patrick and Tashi were walking together as he was clearly rambling about something that she was unfazed by. 

“So they’re a thing huh?” you ask Art, who was walking next to you.

“Yeah I mean, he comes to visit every once in a while but I don’t think that they’ve quite put a label on it yet.” He answers quite honestly, “She’s a very focused person.”

“I know, that’s why it was strange to me that she was with somebody.”

Art nodded in understanding, “I know, I say the same thing and they’re surprisingly sticking it out.”

“Honestly I don’t know how she does it.” you admit. The few times you had been involved with someone it went to shit because of your schedule.

“What do you mean? I thought Tashi said you were dating someone.” Art asks, furrowing his brow.

“Oh no, I broke up with him forever ago, he was on my team before he had to stop playing because of an injury. He’s a full-on NARP now and that really got in the way.” You scoff slightly, laughing to yourself and shaking your head. “Doesn’t seem strange to me that Tash wouldn’t check my Facebook, I’ve deleted all my posts with him since.”

“Yeah she’s like that,” muses Art. “Lives in her own world and we’re all moons revolving around it.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

After changing in the locker rooms and staying to watch the rest of the singles games, you headed to your hotel to freshen up a little to head to Tashi’s and get ready. 

Walking over to the dorm, you run into Patrick, already wearing what you assumed to be his bar clothes — some jeans, nikes, and a gray shirt that says ‘I told ya’. 

“Hey Patrick, you heading to Tashi’s?” you say amicably, trying to strike conversation with your friend’s…? You don’t know what he was.

“Yeah, you?” he asks, pulling out a carton of cigarettes and lighting one. Pat sends the pack your way as an offering “Want one?”

“Yes please, and yeah, I’m getting ready at Tashi’s for tonight. She’d said we would go to bars?”

Patrick goes to light your cigarette and you two continue your walk towards the dorm. “I think you look gorgeous just like that, but to each their own.”

You roll your eyes and fill the rest of the walk with small talk, which to your relief was a relatively short walk so it didn’t get too awkward. As you headed into the elevator, you went to press the button and couldn’t remember what floor Tashi had mentioned. “On what floor does she live?” You ask, as the elevator comes to a close. You could feel his eyes on you. Looking back at him, you catch him staring and give him a questioning look. 

“Patrick?”

“6th floor”

A moment of silence passes between you two. He, of course, breaks it. “Your accent is cute. I don’t know, it fits you.” Patrick is very clearly snaking his eyes up and down your figure, and you didn’t know whether you wanted to stop yourself. “You’re not from around here are y-”

“I don’t know what you’re playing at, Patrick, but you’re with my friend and that is not something I want to intrude in.” You snap. It felt a little mean but it’s not something you’d want to do to Tashi. 

He snorts, laughing to himself and furrowing his brow, “I’m not with Tashi, if you haven’t noticed. She barely gives me the time of day unless she wants me to fuck her.”

You’re surprised at his statement, a little less so at his crass choice of words, but you realized that that’s the kind of person he was. Extremely conflicted with how to react, you noticed the lustful look in his eye and the little bite he gave the inside of his cheek. You couldn’t. You turned away and looked at the numbers of the floors go up excruciatingly slow. Pat hesitated, but at this point he had nothing to lose. 

“If it raises the chances of you being interested in me, then no. For all intents and purposes I am not with Tashi.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Later that night, at some dingy college bar, both Patrick and Art were inquisitively leaning towards you and Tashi. You'd all had your fair share of drinks and there was something in the air, you didn't know what it was but it made you feel magnetic, especically towards Art and Patrick. You liked Art and everything, but you couldn’t help but notice how he would always be catching a look at Tash and sweeping in to mediate when she and Pat would begin a harmless spat. Patrick, on the other hand, had very much caught your eye. Something about him made you curious, maybe it was his nonchalance and light cockiness towards everything. But from your previous conversation, you now knew that he was clearly intrigued by you, leaning his head to the side like a confused puppy as he listened to you explain that you were an international student.

“Oh so you’re far far from home” He comments, “And you’re not from the US?”

“Don’t act too surprised Pat, a lot of international students come to US universities to play tennis.” you reply, “And yes, I’m pretty far from home”

He nods in understanding. “That’s cool, honestly. I’d love to visit and see what your country’s like.”

You smile back, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes and the liquid confidence taking over, “You can come anytime.”

Eventually, you and Patrick keep up the conversation, drinks flowing, and notice that Art and Tashi had disappeared, God knows where.

“Did they really leave us here?” Patrick asks, bewildered when he noticed that Art and Tashi were nowhere to be seen. You shrugged. “I mean, I don’t mind it to be honest. I had to head to my hotel so I would have been going back alone anyways.”

“I can’t let you do that, that’s dangerous.” Patrick said, quickly inserting himself as the hero of the situation. “I’ll take you to your hotel. Where are you staying?”

“Oh just at a Holiday Inn down the street.”

“No way! I’m staying in that one too,” he says. “C’mon I’ll walk you back.”

You don’t know if it was the drinks or the tension you still had from today’s game but somehow, you ended up making out with Patrick in the elevator on your way up to your room. Patrick’s lips clashed against yours, bringing you closely into his embrace as you two killed the time before getting to your room. You separated the kiss for a moment, looking Pat dead in the eye.

“Not a word to Tashi about this.”

“No worries baby, she wouldn’t even care. She’s probably busy doing Art right now. She prefers him.” he admits, shrugging unconcerned and leaning back in to kiss you.

Luckily, your room was one of the first ones accessible as you got out of the elevator, so you reached into your pocket as you both stumbled towards the door. You fumbled with the key for a moment as Pat left some kisses on your throat, lost in you and your every move.

Finally being able to open the door, you two connected in a kiss once more and clumsily moved towards the bed, clothes coming off sloppily. Bumping against the end of the bed, you and Patrick fall onto the soft and fluffy duvet, heavenly on your tired muscles, heightening the pleasurable sensations of Pat’s lips on yours. 

His kisses were desperate, frantic, rushed, matching all the possible descriptive words for the way he was reaching at all of the grippable parts of you as he sloppily kissed you, teeth clashing. He was panting, and you were also desperately clawing at his t-shirt, moving your tongue against his and travelling your hands back into his hair. There was something about how the two of you just melded together, maybe fuelled by the underlying guilt of what you were doing, but also the insatiable need to blow off some fuckin’ steam.

You could feel how he was starting to grow hard in his jeans, starting to kiss your jaw and neck.

“Let me get on top, Patrick” you gasp, out of breath, pulling him back into the kiss and rolling over so you’re straddling him. He’s reaching up to you, grabbing your ass as you wrap your arms around his neck in order to keep him close. You start rolling your hips, bringing yourself to hit that sweet spot, easily accessible through under your skirt, and moaning into his mouth at the feeling. Gripping the edges of his shirt, he follows your lead of taking it off as you remove your top as well. For a moment he stops, slowly leaning back into his elbows, taking the sight of you squirming on top of him.

“Suck my dick.” He says, something so gluttonous yet pleading in his eyes. “Please.”

You look down at him, licking your bottom lip at the mere though of hearing his moans with your mouth on him. Nodding, slowly, you start kissing at his body, making your way down and occasionally looking back up at him. He’s got his head thrown back taking in the tenderness of your touch. You get to his jeans, tented up by his hard cock and start unbuckling his belt. Making your way through his layers, you reach into his jeans and start palming him, feeling how hard you had made him feel. You hear him moan shamelessly at this, saying your name and encouraging you to continue. 

He starts pulling his jeans and underwear down, barely enough for you to be able to access his cock, which you grab in your hand and spit on, beginning to pleasure him. His moans are loud as you continue, licking his tip and sending him into a spiral, moaning a load of curses and your name. As you keep going, he starts tangling his hands in your hair and trying his best to get it out of your face. 

“God, baby you look so good like that sucking my cock, fuck.” He groans, throwing his head back. You look up at him, and his blissed out expression just fuels you even more, his stomach muscles contracting and his eyes scrunching closed giving you more of a reason to keep bobbing your head up and down on his cock. You gag around him, your mouth already salivating and sloppy, and you went up to take a breath.

“Want to return the favor, Pat?” you ask, looking up at him through half-lidded, pleading eyes while you kept languidly stroking his cock. He took a single look at you and nodded. 

“Yeah, of course baby,” he says as you sit up. “C’mon, get on me.”

You furrow your brow— “You want me to sit on your face?” You reply with a smirk, climbing up his body

He smirks back, “How else would I return the favor?” Pat leans in to give you one, long hard kiss, the taste of himself in your mouth making his dick twitch. “Can’t wait to taste ya, babe”

You giggle, straddling him as he moves backwards a little in order to reach under you. At the first contact his lips have with your throbbing pussy, you let out a surprised moan and you grip his hair. He grabs your hips, a strong grip pulling you down towards him and making you have to find support against the headboard. 

“Fuck, Patrick that feels so good.” You moan, throwing your head back and leaning into his grip. You didn’t care if he suffocated right now, at this point what was of utmost importance was the pressure in your stomach building as he continued to run his tongue along your folds, taking his time to kiss at your sensitive clit. He really did know what he was doing. 

“Patrick please, shit you’re gonna make me come.” He doesn’t budge, just pulls you closer and nods his head against you, speeding up his movements and making you a moaning mess, gripping at his hair and rocking your hips against his mouth to keep that momentum and buildup in your belly. Patrick clearly senses this, moving his tongue faster and more intensely.

“Cum, baby” you feel him mumble. Immediately at his words, you feel yourself snap and a rush of energy archs your back and makes you gush all over his face. He comes up, making you straddle him, and he smiles at you with his mouth still glistening with your release, looking voraciouslt at you. 

“You have no idea what you do to me.”

Patrick brings you into a passionate kiss, once again sloppily coming together with him manouvering himself to be on top of you. All of your clothes had come off at some point, all of the contact had been so frantic, truly taking your mind off of everything else as you felt him on you. He was rock hard, still aroused from your blowjob, and he started nudging the tip of his cock on your entrance. You come back to your senses, pushing him away for a moment and giving him a look, which he quickly realized what it meant.

“Fuck I— I’ll just buy you a pill tomorrow.”

This was enough for you to give him a nod and make him start sliding inside you, letting out a heavy groan as he bottomed out. You let out a tense moan, grabbing at the bedsheets next to your head, and bringing your arms around his back as he began his thrusts, breathing hard into your neck, kissing it erratically between moans. 

“You’re so tight, oh my God” He groans, picking up his pace, making you a moaning mess and pulling him closer to you. He was hitting a spot inside you that was bringing your orgasm back, the pressure in your belly building again as he roughly grabbed your hips. Patrick brought his lips back to yours, sloppily kissing you with tongue to shut your high-pitched whines up. “Don’t be too loud baby, your neighbors are going to complain.”

A solution clearly comes into his mind as he sits back and turns you around to be on all fours, the sudden force on you making you yelp as he pushed you down against the pillow. He teases his cockhead against your folds, then reaches down to speak wantonly into your ear. “Now you can be as loud as you want baby.”

At that, you melt in his touch and let out a long, languid moan at the feeling of him slipping into your cunt, sopping with your arousal and absorbing his hard thrusts. You scream into the pillow as the pressure in your core keeps building and his thrusts hit the right spot that send you into a delirium. Patrick is a moaning mess behind you, the obscene combination of sounds, skin against skin and pleasurable moans making him even more aroused. He’s harsh, pulling your hips to match his pace and you feel him reach up and pull your hair back, revealing your fucked out face to him. “Make me cum again, please Patrick.” you groan, rolling your eyes backwards in pleasure as he speeds up his thrusts, bringing you closer to your orgasm. 

“Fuck, I’m going to come baby—” he moans, his thrusts made more erratic at the sensation of your cunt around him. You begin to feel yourself let go as he thrusts sloppily one, two, three more times and pulls out of you, coming all over your back.  You collapse under him, and he kneels back to admire your gorgeous ass painted by his work. “Patrick, you better not tell Tashi about this.” He hears, mumbled tiredly from under your messed up hair. Shaking his head and rolling his eyes (because really, you were thinking about that now?), he gets off the bed, walking into your bathroom to grab a towel for your spent, cum-stained body.

a/n: hope u enjoyed ig !! took me forever lol but if you liked this would like to request some ideas you are more than welcome to !!

[fruitjoos]

not enough

GIF SOURCE: @harcive

patrick zweig x reader

patrick was touring with the ATP, while you were savoring the freedom of your gap year summer vacation. amidst shelves of handcrafted trinkets and colorful scarves in a quaint madrid market, your eyes met his, igniting an instant connection. you wandered through the enchanting streets, your bond deepening with every shared dream and burst of laughter.

in the heart of madrid, under the spell of first love, the world seemed to fade away. by the end of that day, patrick realized he couldn't bear the thought of you being far from him. he asked for your number, a simple request that marked the beginning of everything.

now, a year and a half into your relationship, here you were. back in new york.

he hastily shuffled around, stuffing your clothes into your duffel bag. you shook your head, watching him as you kneeled in the middle of his bed. “you want to go so badly, and leave me here,” he huffs, “fine, i’ll help you pack.”

he paced from room to room, closet to bathroom, bathroom to den, and back to the bedroom, grabbing anything and everything in an attempt to erase you from his apartment. he wanted no trace left behind whatsoever. if you wanted to be gone, that’s what you were going to be.

“patrick, stop!” you called out, your voice laced with desperation, but he either didn’t hear you or didn’t care. “can you stop? let’s just talk about this,” you pleaded, reaching for his bicep, which he quickly snatched away from your grasp.

you had just broken the news to him that you’d been accepted into a school in the UK, offering a full-ride scholarship for journalism, a passion of yours. an opportunity you’d be crazy not to pursue. but patrick wasn’t taking the news well, his hostility apparent from the moment you mentioned moving across the world.

a frustrated sigh escaped your lips as he glared down at you. “why can’t you just think about me for a second?” you asked, rubbing your hands over your face. he let out a chuckle of disbelief.

“think about you?” he echoed, scoffing, a mock smile quickly replaced by a hardened, confused expression. your name dripped from his lips like venom. “all i ever do is think about you. every waking moment.” he pointed a finger at his chest, his voice growing more heated.

“i quit tennis for you. you’re the reason i’m in this situation, dealing with my parents every fucking week, talking about shit i don’t care about, just to keep money in my bank account,” he argued, his voice rising with each word.

“you’re doing that for yourself,” you interjected, but he talked right over you.

“i get shit from my parents about how my life would’ve been shit without them, and they’re glad i finally realized it,” he threw up air quotes, “because i’m working for them now. i have to listen them degrade me every week for hours because of you.” he squinted at you, as if the look of stupidity on your face was blinding him. you quietly tutted, rolling your eyes. “so don’t you ever try to say that i’m not thinking of you. because you’re all i ever think about!”

“i didn’t ask you to do that,” you declared, your voice trembling.

“you didn’t have to, i just did!” he screamed, causing goosebumps to rise on your arms. “because i fucking love you! and i wanted to be with you!” he panted from the intensity, his chest heaving. “and when you love someone, you have to make those sacrifices.” he stepped closer, his anger palpable.

all you could do was sit there, feeling small and helpless. you stared into each other’s eyes for what felt like an eternity, trying to read each other’s minds. the silence was deafening, and despite the thermostat being set to 70 degrees, your body felt like it was on fire in the middle of winter.

“but apparently, you don’t love me that much,” he finally spoke, breaking the silence. his tongue rolled in the side of his cheek, as he blinked rapidly, trying to cover any emotion or sign of weakness.

“oh, come on,” you scoffed, throwing your hands up and letting them fall back to your sides. “i do love you,” you said, scooting closer to the edge of the bed near him. he stepped back almost immediately.

“but not enough,” he said, throwing the half-full duffel bag filled with your things on the empty bed spot next to you before storming out of the apartment, the door slamming shut behind him.