#Alex Zverev x reader

[kelloggsenthusiast]

Tennis

Stefanos Tsitsipas

Through the lens of a camera the other side of the net

Nick Kyrgios (lol.)

Daniil Medvedev

Carlos Alca-rizz

Permanent fixture

Te odio mas

Andrey Rublev

Could you break a heart, if I asked you? how do i say this?

Alexander Zverev

Talk 2 me

[kelloggsenthusiast]

If montell fish songs were angst stories: Talk 2 me

The heaviness in my chest grew progressively worse with every passing second. Sascha wasn't home yet, but he said he'd be here over two hours ago. I ran my hand over his pillow, longingly.

It was no secret that Sascha's and my relationship was not in a good place. We could barely sit together for an hour without fighting over something stupid, ranging from my insecurities to his jealousy and possessiveness. We couldn't agree on anything anymore, always having conflicting views and opinions and it was straining our relationship. It was so bad that we could go on for days without speaking to each other. In the four years we'd been together, this had never happened. Of course we fought like any normal couple, but it wasn't as bad as tonight.

He took me to the Opera for a show and we stayed for the subsequent cocktail party. It was at the party that someone approached us and asked to talk to him. I didn't mind, so I let her. It was only a few moments later that I realized that the person was his ex girlfriend. My head snapped in the direction of where they went and I curtly excused myself from the circle of people Sascha and I were talking to.

A dull ache developed in my chest with every step I took towards the corridor they ran off to. I found Alex and the girl- alone- and speaking in hushed tones. Her hands were on his chest and around his shoulders and his hands were idly at his sides.

Blinded by my anger, I fled from there. I heard Sascha call after me but i just kept moving. The lights were brighter, the sounds were louder and the pain was more intense. I felt like dying. I made my way out of the opera house and onto the pavement. I placed a hand over my chests the anger gave way to bone crushing pain. I heaved a sob before covering my mouth.

"Meine Liebe," I hear Sascha say as I feel his hands wrap around my shoulders.

I pull away and wipe my tears frantically, thanking God for waterproof makeup.

"I'm fine, in sorry," I say, my voice still thick with tears.

"You're not okay, Ma-"

"I said I'm fine. Let's go back. Rafa and the others will be looking for us," I say, getting ready to go back.

"For God's sake, Max, do something. React. Scream. Cry, anything. I'm tired of you being so goddamn passive!" He shouts. I turn to face him slowly, trying to control the simmering anger I feel.

"What exactly do you want me to do, Alex? How do you want me to react? For fucks sake, I'm tired, okay? There, I said it! I hate that your Goddamn ex is ruining everything we've built and I can't do anything because you're letting her-"

"Dont you fucking assume I'm cheating on you, Maxine."

"How am I not to assume, Alex? You said you broke up with her long ago but why is she here? What was she going to do to you? What were you about to let her do to you?"

" Fuck, Max, it's not even like that. Four years we've been together! You know me better than anyone else and you know I'd never do that to you. I'd never let it go there."

" Well, lately I don't know the man I've been laying next to at night."

"Thats rich, considering I've had to force you to open up to me."

I scoff and turn around, heading back to the party. I find Rafa and tell him I'm leaving. Alexander materializes besides me and his hand is on the small of my back. To them, we are a happy couple.

It cannot change.

The drive home is awkward and painfully silent. I run through the argument in my head and regret immediately seizes me. I want to apologize because, ultimately, I'm the one in the wrong. I never open up to him and tell him what's on my mind and in my heart.

He's frustrated, and rightfully so.

Back at our apartment, he changes into his tennis clothes, grabs his duffle bag and tells me he'll be home in an hour.

I roll over to his side of the bed and inhale. It's been a little over four hours since he left. My eyes fill with tears and I feel sincere remorse for how I've been treating him.

My own issues and insecurities shouldn't interfere with our relationship. I simply love him too much to lose him over something this trivial.

I pretended to be asleep while cuddling his pillow when he finally arrived minutes later. I heard him shower and move around the apartment before joining me in bed.

"I wish you could talk to me, like you used to. I love you, Max," he says before kissing my forehead and falling asleep besides me.

[kelloggsenthusiast]

Sorry girls, boys and nbs

[kelloggsenthusiast]

What if I wrote a Conan gray song disguised as an Alex Zverev one shot?

[kelloggsenthusiast]

Limited time only

[kelloggsenthusiast]

Who I'll be writing for/ Masterlist

Football

Motorsports

Tennis

Miscellaneous

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