I Currently Have A Five Thousand Word Draft Of A Carlos Childhood Friends To Lovers Fic Sat In My Drafts

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

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!!

Any suggestions go ahead :)

Is this not just the love island intros??

"READY FOR THEIR CLOSE-UP 😎"

ARYNA SABALENKA [BLR] • CARLOS ALCARAZ [ESP] • COCO GAUFF [USA] • TAYLOR FRITZ [USA] • ZHENG QINWEN [CHN] • JANNIK SINNER [ITA] • IGA ŚWIĄTEK [POL] • JESSICA PEGULA [USA] • DANIIL MEDVEDEV [RUS] • ONS JABEUR [TUN] • ELENA RYBAKINA [KAZ] • NOVAK DJOKOVIĆ [SRB] || INDIAN WELLS PROMO || 02 06 2025

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?

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."

Kendrick made me realize that I am not a hater at my full potential. 2025 resolutions: hate more

Which Carlos will we see today?

are these tennis kids good or the top 10 players shit