WIDE AWAKE || CA

hey!! I don’t mean to pressure you or anything, but I just wanted to say I looove The Deal series and (if you plan on continuing it) am very much looking forward to part 4 !!

Omg I swear I will be back I’ve just had all my uni assignment due dates!! So I’ve been swamped but I will be back soon I promise 🫵🏻🫵🏻🫵🏻

Winning Feeling || CA

AUTHOR: @yungbludz deserves to read a Carlos fic, instead of writing them all the time.

SUMMARY: You surprise Carlos at Rotterdam after telling him you couldn't make it

WARNINGS: Fluff, Smut, Unprotected Sex (bad), Oral (fem receiving), P in V 18+

Carlos’ grin appeared on your screen as he hit a flawless drop shot, landing perfectly outside of De Minaur’s reach and giving Carlos the point.

The commentators voices played through your headphones praising your boyfriends form. You couldn’t help but giggle at the way he had the audience on his side.

When you told Carlos you couldn’t make Rotterdam he was understanding and assured you it was fine but you knew from the way his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes that he was disappointed.

But when you managed to get your work finished late Saturday night you immediately booked flights for the next morning, coordinating with Juan Carlos to surprise your boyfriend.

Looking up from your phone you can see the arena in the distance and with your heart speeding up you quickly shoot a text to Juan Carlos letting him know you’re just around the corner.

The taxi pulled up out front of the arena just as the final set was starting, and determined to be there for the end of the game you rushed out of the taxi thanking the driver and making your way into the building.

You slipped into the stands, just behind the coaches box and Juan Carlos smiled and waved at you.

“How’s it going?” You leaned over, eyes trained on your boyfriend’s figure moving skilfully around the court.

“The second set was difficult, but he’s pulling it back.”

You smiled softly as you settled in your seat.

Carlos moved with precision, covering a staggering amount of the court.

As he hit another winning shot he turned to the audience, meeting eyes with his coaches and then flitting up.

His gaze met yours and his face lit up, a smile covering his face as you waved and shooed him to focus on his game.

The rest of the game went smoothly with Carlos winning against De Minaur and taking his first title at Rotterdam.

Before you knew it you stood outside the locker room waiting for your boyfriend to emerge.

You caught a glimpse of his blue jacket as the door swung open, his brown eyes meeting yours and his lips turning to a smile as he looked you up and down.

He wasted no time, marching towards you, threading his hand in your hair bringing your lips together. It had only been a week and yet you found yourself melting into his touch.

He pulled away slightly his hands falling to your waist playing with your shirt. Everywhere his hands touched set your skin on fire and suddenly you felt the urge to get back to the hotel.

"¿Pensé que tenías que trabajar?" (I thought you had to work?) His eyes danced across your face as if he wasn't sure you were really there.

"¿Y extrañar verte ganar? Nunca." (and miss seeing you win? never) You kissed his cheek, softly moving to his ear, "mi campeón" (my champion).

He let out a groan, your words having a visual effect on him as his cheeks flushed and his eyes focused on you. You leant in to meet his lips, softly pulling on his bottom lip. Effectively riling him up when Juan Carlos, interrupted.

"vamos pájaros del amor" (come on, lovebirds), Carlos laughed at his coach handing him his tennis bag and picking up his trophy before wrapping his arm around your waist and heading to the car.

The car journey was agonising. Carlos' hand traced patterns on your inner thigh as he stared out the window pretending to be unaware of the effect he was having.

Every time you tried closing your legs, to prevent his hand from rising any higher, he simply pushed them open slightly and slipped an inch further up.

Your leg was burning under his touch and that heat had settled in your core. Every second his hands remained on you left you begging to get to the hotel so you could get the attention you wanted from him.

Carlos began to take notice of your agitated state, he leaned over to you his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

"Feeling hot, my love?"

"Carlos please," his hand rose higher at your desperate voice, his fingertips brushing the edges of your soaked underwear.

"God you're so wet for me, bet you would let me take you right here, wouldn't you?" Of course you would, his fingers moved under the waistband of your underwear as your eyes flicked to the driver.

The second you started to doubt the predicament you found yourself in Carlos' lips found your neck and his fingers fell between your folds.

A breathy moan left your mouth unable to hold back the pleasure you felt. Suddenly as the tension began to rise in your abdomen, his fingers left your underwear causing you to gasp at the empty feeling.

Turning to Carlos your cheeks were red, your chest rising heavily, hand wrapped around the back of his neck. He leaned in before you could question why he pulled away leaving you hot and bothered.

"Nosotros estamos aqui" (we're here)

You deeply sighed, following your boyfriend out of the car. You wasted no time getting to the lift as the tension from the car was still present.

By the time you reach the hotel room, you are begging to get him out of his clothes.

He crossed the threshold of the room, and the two of you were together. His hands were firmly on either side of your face and your hand slipped underneath his shirt.

He pushed your back against the door pulling away from the kiss to pull his shirt over his head, your eyes scanned the chiselled body of the man you loved taking your hands to rake down his chest and along his abs.

"They should ban shirts in tennis." Carlos laughed, shaking his head at your antics as he made a move to kiss up your neck.

"Then everyone would get to see me, and I'm yours." The small words sent shivers down your spine that set your core alight.

"Show me." His brown eyes bore into yours. "Show me how you're mine." A smirk graced his stunning features and he wasted time. His lips trailed down your neck.

He lifted your shirt off you, trailing sloppy kisses down your chest and across your breasts. His hand reached behind you to unhook your bra letting it fall to the ground.

When met with the sight of your naked chest Carlos groaned, "Hermosa" (beautiful) before capturing your nipple between his teeth. The sensation made you moan loudly gripping the back of Carlos' hair and finding any piece that was long enough to pull.

His mouth worked magic on your breast sucking and pulling on your sensitive nipples while his hand unbuttoned your skirt and slowly slid it down your legs.

The second the skirt hit the floor Carlos travelled south, his lips trailing down your stomach reaching the black underwear that was well and truly ruined.

He softly kissed your core over the underwear and your head fell back against the door. "Carlos please."

He looked up at you, an evil glint in his eyes. "What do you want, amor?"

"You. please."

He shook his head lightly, his hands moving up your thighs was all your brain could focus on. "what part of me?"

He kissed your stomach, "my mouth?" his fingers slid dangerously close to your fold you couldn't help but moan. "my fingers?"

"Both, please Carlos, I need you."

He pulled on the waistband of your underwear sliding it down your legs, and after throwing it somewhere in the room to find later he hitched your leg over his shoulder and immediately dove in.

His lips met your clit in an instant as he devoured you like a man starved. tracing tight circles on your clit had you crying out his name which only spurred him on. His finger met your folds, gently sliding through them and collecting your slick before two roughly thrust into you.

"Fuck Carlos, fuck" You screamed out and if you had been more away from your surroundings you may have worried about the neighbours, but with Carlos' face buried between your legs, you didn't care.

He added a third finger as he picked up the pace against your clit making you thankful for the door supporting your weight as your legs began to tremble.

You yanked Carlos' hair as your head fell back against the door, and he groaned into your core. He angled his finger perfectly as your high began to build. you couldn't help but move your hips looking for any extra friction possible.

It works when his fingers trust even deeper inside you quickly sending you to your high.

"cum for me, amor." his words alongside his fingers sent you over the edge, your legs shaking and chest heaving as he fucked his fingers into you throughout the orgasm.

As you came down from your high he captured you in a kiss, the taste of your juices on his lips. Your hands found his hair and he grabbed your ass and your tongues fought together.

You pulled away out of breath and desperate. "I need you inside of me."

"I didn't bring any protection, I didn't know you were coming" He's eyes scanned your body, every ounce of self-restraint being exhibited so he didn't take you raw against the hotel room door.

"It doesn't matter, I'm on the pill remember." the acknowledgement ran through his eyes and immediately he picked you up and carried you to the room.

Placing you on the bed he moved over you, staring into his eyes as he slid his shorts off. His cock was hard and leaking pre-cum as it slapped against his stomach.

He leaned over you as you wrapped your legs around his waist aching for his cock to be inside you.

"Estoy tan feliz de que estés aquí" (I'm so happy you're here) He kissed you tenderly, his brown eyes analysing the way you gaze softened at his words.

Your hand moved to his face, cradling his cheeks as you gently kissed him, "Te amo, por supuesto que estaría aquí." (I love you, of course, I would be here).

The words seemed to be affirmation enough for him, lining his cock up with your entrance and bottoming out. You both groaned at the feeling of being perfectly filled and Carlos waited for your signal to start moving.

"Move please, Carlos." He pulled out almost entirely before slamming himself into you, causing you to cry out his name. Your hands rested on his shoulders digging in due to the restless pace he started with.

"You feel amazing, Amor. This pussy was meant for me." You cried out at his words and relentless pace, hitting deep inside you as you moaned his name over and over again.

His hand fell between your bodies his thumb finding your clit to trace light circles on. Your back arched into him, nails pulling scratches down his back that you knew would mean no shirtless tennis for the next week.

"Mierda." his forehead fell against yours, capturing your lips in a messy kiss.

He sped up the movement of his fingers on your clit, the knot in your stomach tightening with every deep thrust that hit that spot within you.

"I'm going to.." your voice trailed off as his thrust began to falter.

"Yo también cariño" (me too honey)

Carlos grabbed your hips pulling them towards him, resuming his brutal pace. The new closeness had you seeing stars and within seconds you were falling off the edge. Your nails dug into Carlos' shoulder as you cried out his name.

He fucked you through your high and as your pussy clenched around him, you felt as he shot himself inside you, his forehead falling onto your shoulder kissing you softly.

He stayed for a moment as you both caught your breath before he pulled out and lay beside you, He put his arms around you pulling him into you. Your hand trailed his face as you met his lips.

Running your hand through his hair you smiled. "te amo" (I love you)

His hand ran up your side pulling you closer into his chest, "Yo también te amo. Eres el único trofeo que necesito" (I love you too. You're the only trophy I need)

Masterlist <3

Writing about tennis players mostly :)

Carlos Alcaraz

Not your girlfriend: pt.1, pt.2 angst, fluff

Winning Feeling: smut, fluff

Green Monster: smut

The Deal: pt.1, pt.2, pt.3 fluff, angst, smut (eventually)

Always There: fluff, slight angst

Wide Awake: smut, fluff

Jannik Sinner

Tough times: angst, fluff

Shhhh don’t discourage him

whorecaraz making an appearance. sir do you not have a priv

carlos alcaraz indoor hard court son or iga swiatek grass court daughter

I’ve started writing this carlos x pr manager fic and it has become enemies to lovers and I’m thinking it might also become a series……thoughts?

When is deal part 3 coming pls

I swear I’m writing it 😂 my actual work just got on top of me a bit - expect it in the next few days!!

watching 3 hours of tense tennis just for your favorite to lose has to be one of the most frustrating and infuriating experiences for a sports fan

THE DEAL || CA

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Pt. 3 (previous part)

summary: Carlos hated having a PR manager, especially one who was his age. Convincing her to leave was the best plan he'd ever had, but what happens when he realises he doesn't want her to go?

pairing: carlos alcaraz x fem!reader

warning: none.

a/n: Asking politely everyone ignores how long this took me to write, turns out I had actual uni work to do which is lame. Also, look at them not arguing the WHOLE time is there a civil colleague relationship forming?

MASTERLIST

You had been avoiding Alcaraz since the moment the two of you shared in the hallway after the press conference. Spending the rest of the afternoon hiding from his gaze and pushing him through interviews as fast as you possibly could.

Each time he brushed past you from one interview to the next, Your cheeks flushed with your mind drifting back to his body so close to yours.

Despite being invited to the team dinner that Juan Carlos had urged you to attend, you found yourself leaving the Rod Laver arena with no intention of detouring from your hotel bed which was firmly on your mind.

The halls were bustling with people, tennis players, physios and staff rushing from room to room. As you wandered aimlessly towards the exit of the building your eyes caught a bundle of red curls bounding towards you.

"Y/N" the Italian called your name and you spun round to face his towering figure. You'd met Jannik many times before while working in the world of Formula 1 and he had been one of the first to convince you to take the job with Alcaraz.

"Jan!" The tennis player wrapped his long arms around you lifting you into a familiar hug. The warmth from his body a comforting hug which saw the tension in your body immediately dissipate. "How's media day going?"

"You know how us players feel about all the interviews and content. We'd rather be on court." A smile beamed across the young Itlian's face and for once it felt nice to not be constantly on edge in this job. You laugh and let out an exasperated groan,

"Trust me, on behalf of all media and PR people - we also wished you'd be on court instead of annoying us." Jannik gave you a playful shove, his laugh bringing a smile to your face.

"I'll try not to take that personally, though I'm pretty sure it was aimed at him." Jannik nodded his head further down the hallway. Stood against the wall, with his eyes trained on you and the Italian was Carlos Alcaraz.

His arms were crossed over his chest and while you couldn't be sure if it was Jannik or you he was staring at it was clear he was trying out the whole 'if looks could kill' theory.

"Trust me, I'd much prefer to spend a media day with you than him." You turned back to Jannik trying to block out the presence of the Spaniard in the background.

"Trouble in paradise?" Jannik tilted his head looking down at you as you scoffed.

"If this was paradise I shudder to think what hell is like." You felt Alcaraz's gaze burning into the back of your head, certain he was now staring you down.

You didn't even know why he was still hanging around, you left him after your last interview and thought he'd gone off to meet the rest of his team.

Jannik laughed loudly, "He can't be that bad, it's Carlitos. I'm surprised he hasn't been flirting with you." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively but you couldn't help but laugh and roll your eyes.

Truth is, the Alcaraz that Jannik was explaining was what you'd expected when you'd started.

Warned about the Spaniard's bubbly personality many people who knew him would smile and say 'Watch out for the flirting'.

Instead, you'd met a different Alcaraz, one who constantly saw you as a waste of space on his team and far from flirting with you, you were met with constant coldness.

"Yeah that's not a problem." You sighed deeply. "You should go, I don't want to be the cause of another PR Manager's troubles." Jannik smiled, wrapping his arms around you and giving you a soft kiss on your cheek.

"If you need anything, or want me to slap some sense into Carlitos, just let me know." You grinned softly, pulling away from the Italian.

"I might take you up on that."

Jannik turned to make a move down the hallway in the direction of Alcaraz, who's attention had switched to his phone. He looked over his shoulder briefly and beamed, "Ci vediamo presto, tesoro" (See you soon, darling.)

Your heart warmed, smiling as you watched the lanky tennis player bound down the hall. He stopped when he reached Alcaraz, the usual warm greeting between the two seemed colder.

Alcaraz nodded dejectedly before his gaze fell back onto you. Uncomfortable under the harsh gaze you turned away and made your way back towards the doors of the arena.

...

You reached your hotel room and fell on the bed releasing a deep sigh. You stretched out your arms and rolled onto your side. The mattress caved under your weight and cradled your body.

Your phone buzzed and you reached lazily for your phone, fighting off the sleep and flipping your phone over.

Alcaraz: You coming to dinner?

You paused, then rolled your eyes.

Y/N: Don't worry, I won't be there to ruin your evening.

Three dots appeared, and then they disappeared. Your eyebrows furrowed softly. The three dots appeared a second time, remaining on the corner of your screen for a few seconds before they went once again.

You sat up slightly, the relaxed demeanour you had now shifting as tension flooded your body.

For a third time, three dots appeared. You watched them intently waiting as they slowly moved on the screen. But like each previous time, the dots disappeared.

You scoffed, shaking your head and moved off your bed. You left your phone resting on the bed as you made your way to the bathroom to shower.

The hot water pelting down on your body instantly soothed you. The knots from your shoulders disappearing with the stress of the day.

The argument with Alcaraz still weighed on your mind but you were determined to push through and get this tournament done with.

You were just so sick and tired of him constantly taking everything out on you. For once you wanted to be the one to frustrate him, and as you stepped out of the shower you smiled brightly, with a genius idea crossing your mind.

ATP was asking for a bunch of the players to do extra content ahead of the tournament - usually, you only signed Alcaraz up for one to reduce the amount of complaining you had to listen to.

But with an evil smirk on your face and a towel wrapped around you, you walked back into the bedroom. You immediately found your phone, opening your message to text the ATP's PR manager who you got on well with.

Y/N: Hi Amy, Alcaraz would love to do the extra content. Sign him up for as much as possible. Thank you!

As you clicked send you laughed quietly to yourself, you couldn't wait till he found out.

...

You were in comfortable clothes, makeup off, sat cross-legged on the sofa when you finally got a response from Amy sending over the schedule for the next day's media.

You forwarded the schedule to Alacaraz with the headline 'Surprise!' and closed your laptop.

Settling into the sofa you switched the TV on and called room service. The buzz of TV made your eyes heavy as you lay further into the sofa. Before you knew it you were drifting off to sleep.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Your head was cloudy as you were pulled from your slumber. The furious knocking woke you up violently. You sat up form the sofa, your stomach rumbling as you made your way to the door.

The knocking persisted, "I'm on my way!" you called out, opening the door with a smile.

But when you opened the door, instead of being met with room service, an angry Spaniard was staring at you.

"Alcaraz?" He brushed past you, stomping into your room. "Aren't you supposed to be at dinner?"

"¿Quieres decirme cuando acepté hacer medios todo el día mañana?" (Do you want to tell me when I agreed to do media all day tomorrow?) His glare went right through you as you closed the door and faced him.

You fought the smile that was trying to take over your face. "Look, I just thought it would be good for you to remind everyone how charming you are."

At the sight of Alcaraz's angry stare, you let out a laugh, shaking your head lightly as you moved back towards the sofa. As you passed the Spaniard, he grabbed your arm stopping you from going anywhere.

His chest was pressed against your back and he leaned down to you.

"Cancelarlo" (Cancel it) He towered over you and you turned to face his, you reached your hand up sliding across Alcaraz's chest. You watched as his gaze faltered at the action a glimpse of something indistinguishable passing through his eyes.

You slid you hand up his neck and to the side of his face. You watched him carefully, focusing on the way his breathing deepened. Then a devlish smile took over your face, tapping the side of his face and pushing him away.

"No." You walked to the sofa and sat down, leaving the Spaniard at loss watching you. "Oh and you can leave now."

He stood there for a moment while you set up a new film to watch. As the film blared through the hotel room, you turned your head to see if Alcaraz was still behind you. He watched the screen with a curious look on his face.

"What film is that?" his voice came from behind you, you laughed.

"Notting hill." The absent look on his face caused you to turn fully toward him leaning on the back of the sofa. "You've never seen Notting Hill?!"

He shook his head and looked down at his feet awkwardly. A silence fell across the room only broken by Hugh Grant's voice in the background.

Without thinking you started speaking "Um, you could stay...and watch it, if you wanted?" You regretted it as soon as you said it. The Spaniard looked at you, his brown eyes focusing on the gentle gaze you sent him.

"Um," For a second you thought he was going to join you. His shoulders fell and he look as though he was about to take a step forward when his phone buzzed, pulling it out of his pocket he glanced at it.

He took a step back and any softness in his eyes hardened. "Team dinner remember."

His sharp tone settled in the pit of your stomach as you stopped your disappointment from showing. He left without another word and the door slamming made you jump slightly.

You were about to turn back to the TV when there was a knock on the door. Hope bubbled in your chest and you rushed to open it, part of you waiting to be met with those brown eyes on the other side of the door. Instead, it was your room service.

They brought your food in and you thanked them, leaving you in the peace and quiet of your own company. You leaned your head against the back of the sofa and sighed.

You kept finding yourself unable to escape Alcaraz, not just in a work capacity. In the last few days you'd had his body pressed against you more times than you wanted to think about.

But today, that glimpse in his eyes at the suggestion of the movie. You couldn't help but think he wanted to join you. You laughed and shook your head, you couldn't believe he was getting to you. As far as you knew it was all part of his plan to make it easier to get rid of you.

You quietly watching your movie and ate your food when your phone buzzed. It was around the moment Hugh Grant walked through Notting Hill with the season changing around him that your phone buzzed.

Glancing at the screen you spotted it was a notification that Alcaraz had posted an Instagram story. You clicked on it, ready for another PR crisis when you were met with a picture of him and the team laughing at dinner.

Of course, you chose not to be there but the sight of them all smiling and laughing. It hurt. You couldn't help but think maybe you should've listened to Juanki and gone. This was going to be your final two weeks with the team and you were wasting them sat in your room.

You quietly made a promise to yourself in that moment that you'd enjoy the final weeks. Alcaraz had to put up with you as part of the deal and you intended to make the most of that.

...

You dreaded the day ahead. You knew Alcaraz was going to make everything more difficult than it had to be because you were forcing him into this busy day where you knew he wanted to be on the court.

You were ready waiting outside his hotel door. You also had a sandwich with you, getting ready to bribe the no-doubt grumpy player who would emerge from the room.

You shot him a quick 'I'm outside' text and waited patiently. After just a few minutes the door swung open and the tall Spaniard appeared in front of you.

"Morning, Alcaraz!" You shot him a smile and you were met by a slight grimace.

"How do you always have so much energy this early in this morning." You handed him the sandwich which he took with a curios look.

"I'm excited for a full day of media, and the sandwich is a peace offering." He looked down at the sandwich with a funny look on his face. He glanced up at you and quirked his eyebrow,

"A peace offering?" You beamed at him.

"It's going to be a long two weeks, I just suggest we aren't at each other's throats the whole time." His gaze softened ever so slightly but he still looked tentative. "Please, I just want to know what it is like to actually like my job."

He paused and watched you carefully. He took a bite out of the sandwich you had given him and he nodded.

"Fine. But I want more of these." He held up the sandwich with a smile and you shook your head.

"Perfect, let's go then." You made a move down the hallway with Alcaraz following closely behind as you settled into the elevator.

The journey to the stadium was quiet, a trip that was mostly filled with Alcaraz greeting fans, players and staff while you led him through the halls.

You arrived at the ATP's makeshift studio and spotted Amy in the crowd of staff. "Amy!" She turned and smiled at the sight of you and trying to pretend he was happy to be there Alcaraz.

"Y/N, Carlos, thank you both so much for this." The Spaniard shot her a coy smile as he carefully watched the different aspects of the studio, his gaze paused on the box of what looked like props sat by the edge of the set and he turned to look at you.

He sent you a look of pure fear his eyes widening and head lightly shaking that pulled a soft laugh from you.

"Alcaraz is happy to help, he loves all this stuff." The Spaniard pinched your arm and you muffled a yelp sending him a stern look.

"Perfect, you can grab yourself a coffee and there are snacks over there too - and Carlos if you come with us!" Alcaraz politely nodded and just before he began to follow Amy to set he let down and whispered.

"Te arrepentirás de esto." (You will regret this) You laughed and waved him off with a shit-eating grin.

"Have Fun!"

You knew that the next opportunity he got, Alcaraz would make you regret this but the sight of him with silly glasses on filming promo just seemed to make it worth it.

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let me know if you want to be on the taglist :)

taglist: @kcharlyy @champagnecoastca @ilottcountry @austin-butlr

TOUGH TIMES || JS

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summary: Jannik gets home from Doha after news of his ban comes out. He's not doing well, but when you get home, you're there to comfort him.

pairing: jannik sinner x fem!reader

warnings: Angst and fluff, it’s a bit sad but literally just mostly fluff.

a/n: I miss him already

MASTERLIST

You knew when you opened the door that something was off. Like something in the air of your apartment leaving a stiff tension in the room. You dropped your bag quietly by the door and moved into the space.

The lights were on which meant Jannik was home, yet he didn't appear at the sound of the door opening like he usually would.

"Jan? Are you home?" You could've sworn he'd arrived back from Doha earlier this morning and as you moved into the kitchen the sight of his phone on the counter was the clear sign that the Italian was about.

His phone was buzzing incessantly and you reached for it before quickly realising why his phone wouldn't stop making noise. A flood of notifications were streaming through, some positive and concerned but the majority were overwhelmingly negative.

With just a quick glance you read a slew of hateful comments, praying for Jannik's decline or a harsher punishment. A few players had messaged him, but they were a thin comfort when you saw how few had reached out.

You placed the phone back on the counter, clearing away the notification and switching it to silent first.

You looked for Jannik in the living room but there was no sign of the redhead anywhere and when you slowly opened the bedroom door it became apparent why.

The room was a mess, Jannik's suitcase was open with tennis kit strewn around the room. Not as if it had been pulled out of the bag but as if it had been purposely thrown. Your gaze moved from the mess on the floor to the figure lying in bed.

He had a blanket covering him but his red curls gave his presence away. His chest was softly rising and falling as he lay curled up, and you slowly moved to the side of the sleeping tennis player.

You bent down in front of Jannik catching the sight of his peacefully sleeping facade. Even asleep his eyes were noticeably puffy and the shadows under his eyes seemed darker than normal.

It was mid afternoon but the blinds were pulled half closed, moving the light from his face just to his torso.

You brushed his curls out of his face lightly, they immediately returned to their former place but your hand traced around to his cheek. You softly grazed your thumb across his cheek which caused the Italian to stir.

His voice cut through the air, raspy with sleep, "Amore mio?" (my love?)

"Hi honey." Jannik shuffled his body, moving his hand from under his pillow to find the side of your face. You leaned in giving the italian a soft kiss on his lips. "want me to get you anything?"

He shook his head lightly before burying his head back into his pillow. You ran your hands through his hair, causing him to groan softly.

"vieni a letto." (come to bed.) You laughed, running your hand down Jannik's back tracing circles down his spine.

"Let me just get some stuff and I'll be back okay." You gave him a kiss on the cheek before standing up, squeezing his hand before you left the room.

You quickly made your way to the kitchen, making two cups of tea and preparing an array of snack on a tray. Your eyes darted to his phone on the counter but you decided against bringing it with you. Instead adding a few books to the tray.

You headed back into your bedroom, placing the tray on your vanity while you changed into shorts and a comfy jumper. You began picking up some of Jannik's clothes on the floor, putting them away and sliding his tennis bag into the cupboard, out of sight.

Placing the tea by Jannik's bedside and put the tray on yours. You climbed into bed next to him. Jannik rolled over and sat up slightly, his sleep-worn eyes looking up at you caringly.

As you got yourself comfortable place pillows behind your back as a barrier between you and the headboard Jannik moved closer. He rested his head gently in your lap and your hand met his orange curls slowly twirling your finger through them.

His large hands moved to your bare legs as he settled, this thumb tracing lines up and down your thigh. You reached for the remote trying not to unsettle the Italian, switching on the tv which filled the room with a mindless buzz.

The tennis channel was always the first thing to appear on tv, an occupational hazard when you live with a tennis player. The echo of technical tennis chatter filled the silent room, and Jannik's name was called before you could switch the TV over to Netflix.

The feeling in the room shifted, the tension palpable as you rushed to get the reporters harping on Jannik's ban off the screen. His grip on your thigh subconsciously tightened, and when the channel finally switched, relief was clear.

You looked down at a mess of curls on your lap, pausing while Netflix loaded up. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, love, it's not your fault." His dejected tone cut into you. Jannik was usually so full of life and excited, but now he seemed like a shell of his former self. You brushed his hair out of his face so he could catch sight of you in his peripheral.

You moved both hands to the side of his face, cradling him like a ceramic doll that could break at any minute. "It's not your fault either."

He refused to meet your eyes trying to change his focus to the screen before him but he should've known you wouldn't give up.

"Jan, look at me please." Looking up at you, he shuffled slightly, "It's not your fault." His eyes softened and glistened slightly, you had no doubt that this situation had been weighing on him for the last few months.

But now, now that people were taking this ban as a sign of guilt Jannik was letting it destroy him. Ruining his perception of his own hard work and effort. He knew that now the court of public opinion would rip him to shreds and he wouldn't be able to say anything to change their minds.

"But everyone thinks it is." His quiet voice cut through the silence, Jannik tried to hide behind the nonchalant facade that people had assigned to him, but truthfully underneath that all he was struggling.

A tear fell from Jannik's eyes hitting your thigh, your thumb brushed it away and you bent down pressing a kiss you his forehead.

"You are not what they say about you, and in three months you'll get back on that court and prove it." He smiled slightly though it didn't reach his eyes,

You let your hand trail down the back of his neck, rubbing out the tension as your hand moved under his shirt and around his upper back. The tv buzzed with the show that you turned on in the background. Jannik's hand found yours, finding himself tracing shapes on the palm of your hand.

You sat in a comforting silence for a long time, peacefully enjoying each other's company outside of the world's noise. Jannik had been fighting against sleep for the last hour, his eyes fluttering closed with each blink growing heavier for the Italian.

When he drifted to sleep for the first time in months he was lulled into a peaceful rest, your hand along his back and in his hair and a constant reminder of your presence. Something that brought Jannik endless comfort during the constant noise in his mind.

Not long after Jannik fell asleep you moved yourself so you were lying more comfortably in bed, with Jannik's head on your chest and arms around your waist. You wrapped your arms around him and let sleep surround you.

...

When you woke up it was dark outside. The light from the tv filled the room and illuminated the absence of a certain red-headed Italian.

The sheets were a mess, and the air that hit your body was chilling. You got up from bed, your bare feet padding across the cold wood floors as you made your way into the kitchen.

You knew something was wrong when you clocked that Jannik's phone was missing from the spot on the counter where you had left it.

The kitchen was shrouded in darkness but the lights from the city outside caught your gaze. When you were observing the skyscrapers your eyes flitted to a figure sitting on the floor of the balcony, the light from his phone illuminating his face.

Your heart churned at the sight of the soft sobs you could see racking through his body, his shoulders shaking with each sob.

You moved towards the balcony, sliding the door open and stepping out into the cold. Jannik's head snapped to you, but he couldn't hold back the tears as he saw your concerned expression.

You sat on the floor beside him your hands reaching for the phone he held so tightly in his grasp. You glanced at the screen, a compilation of tweets from his fellow players discussing how detrimental Jannik's actions were to the sport.

You wasted no time turning the phone off and putting it to the side. Taking Jannik's hands in yours you kissed his palms. "Why are you reading that nonsense?"

His tear-filled eyes looked to the floor. "This is what they think of me. That's never going to change." He tried to wipe his tears but the actions seemed futile when the tears continued.

Your hands wrapped around his neck pulling him into a hug, his hands found your waist and his head buried itself in the crook of your neck.

"All this has done, is show you who really cares about you. Now next time you beat those assholes you don't need to feel bad." He laughed slightly and his hands gripped your waist tighter.

"I love you and so do so many people, and they'll be waiting for you when you come back my love." your hand slid into the hair at the back of his head, nails scratching the surface trying to bring him comfort.

"What if I'm not as good when I come back?" His broken voice felt like a stab to your heart.

"You're going to spend the next three months training, there's no way you won't go back at the top of your game." Your waist was set alight by his touch as his hands found their way under your shirt.

"Even if you were the worst tennis player ever, I'd still be here by your side." He laughed into your neck, kissing it gently.

"Ti amo." (I love you) He pulled his head out of the crook of your neck and slid his hand up to his face. He leaned in capturing your lips with his, the soft kiss sending warmth flooding throughout your body.

"I love you too."