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unforced3rr0r · 15 days ago

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ALWAYS THERE || CA

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summary: As Carlos’ childhood best friend you’ve been by the side since the beginning. While Carlos insisted he only saw you as a friend you couldn’t help as your feelings for him grew.

pairing: carlos alcaraz x fem!reader

warning: angst, fluff

a/n: been thinking about this plot for a while.

MASTERLIST

The first time you met Carlos, you were four years old. Meeting when your parents move a few houses down the road.

You had approached the door holding onto your mother's hand, and when it opened, you saw a short boy with messy brown hair and large brown eyes gazing at you from behind his mother's legs.

You were too young to remember clearly, but Carlos's mother and yours loved to tell the story of you two cuddled up on the floor of his room when they came to take you home.

From that moment it seemed you were inseparable. You sat through each of Carlos' early tennis matches, encouraging his passion and indulging in his dream of being one of the great.

While he was on the court, you were in the studio. Painting and drawing with every chance you got and for every art show you attended Carlos was there ready to wrap his arms around you and tell you how proud he was.

Every memory from your childhood has his big brown eyes as the prominent feature, and he’d engraved himself within your soul.

When Carlos was 16 and told you he was making his ATP debut, you had screamed, he lifted you into the air wrapping his strong arms around you.

You’d placed your hands gently on either side of his face and pulled his forehead to yours. Uttering over and over again how proud of him you were.

You had sat in his player's box for that match with your hands sweating and legs shaking as you analysed every movement and hit the Spaniard made.

Your head cutting from one side to the other watching carefully every micro movement made by both Carlos and his opponent.

With the final shot in Carlos’ favour, you couldn’t hold back the tears. You couldn't help but rise to your feet, clapping and screaming with pride.

He had beamed at you from the court, and you knew that he would be part of you forever.

...

You had always thought Carlos was attractive, you were his friend - not blind. But for the longest time it had never phased you, laughing off every comment that people made about the two of you ending up together.

But something changed after his professional debut. With him travelling, you spent more time alone in hotel rooms around the world together.

After a particularly gruelling tennis tournament for Carlos you had retired to his hotel room. He lay beside you as a movie droned on in the background. His hand tracing absent minded patterns across your arm.

Completely content in each other company, your whole body at peace with the state of your lives, you had turned to him and asked about the future.

“Do you think you’ll ever get sick of me?” You had quietly muttered, your eyes avoiding his questioning gaze instead watching his eyebrows as they knitted together.

Gently he reached his hand up brushing a stray strand of hair from your face and smiled sweetly, “I couldn’t live without you, even if I wanted to.”

You closed your eyes and sighed, nodding as Carlos’ hand settled on your cheek. “plus, I plan on being your biggest pain in the ass for a long time.”

You laughed, playfully shoving the Spaniard away from you. He rolled back underestimating the space left on the bed and he plummeted to the floor with a thud.

Your laughs turned to wheezes and Carlos gasped in mock anger grasping his heart dramatically. “Laughing at my pain, I can’t believe you.”

Through torrid giggles you managed to collected enough composure to speak, “for a tennis player you aren’t very graceful.”

Carlos bolted up, a scream came from your lips as you rushed in reaction dashing out of the room as quickly as possible. The Spaniard followed, his long legs reducing your escape attempt to a measly ten steps.

His arms circled your waist pulling him tight against his chest as he lifted you off the ground. You’d spun round you push him away but his grip remained firm, his large hands settled just under your t-shirt setting your skin ablaze.

Your eyes met his big brown gaze, watching you with a look of something that you couldn’t quite place. Your stomach flipped and a wave of something akin to nausea hit you.

Suddenly it felt as though you’d forgotten to breathe, electricity buzzing in his watchful gaze. Your heart raced as Carlos began to close the gap.

You felt your heart skip a beat as you thought for a second he was going to kiss you. You could’ve sworn you watched his gaze fall to your lips but just before that vital point of no return he pulled you in for a hug.

the tension from the desperate moment before dissipated, replaced with tender appreciation.

But as his lips brushed your ear and shivers rushed down your spine. “I’d be no where without you.”

Your arms slid around his shoulders holding him close, fingers running softly through the hair at the back of his neck.

“And I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” You held him close, soaking in each other’s presence.

He nestled his head in the crook of your neck and with every brush of his nose against you had your heart racing.

He pulled away, his lips sweetly meeting you cheek as he made his way back to the bedroom, calling your name.

You stood in the hallway, your breathing ragged as you ran your hand over your face. Your body was tense and you could still feel the ghost of Carlos’ hand on your waist.

You stared silently at the open bedroom door, trying to ignore the looming feeling that something had changed.

From there, something was ignited within you. You wondered if you'd always harboured these feelings for the man who you'd grown up with.

You'd never really been in a relationship, struggling to find a man that measured up to Carlos. At first you thought it was just because Carlos had shown you how you deserved to be treated - not to mention he rarely approved of the men you liked.

...

In your final year of school before heading off to University, you had a big formal to celebrate. The excitement had been building over the year and as the months drew closer your friends urged you to find a date.

A date hadn't particularly interested you, with none of the guys you knew ever giving you butterflies, or making you nervous. You travelled a lot with Carlos and it meant you struggled to find time for an active love life outside of the boundaries of school.

But your friends had laughed when you suggested going alone, sending you a list of guys who would love to take you to the dance. You resisted as much as you could but they refused to let up.

One of the guys suggested was a guy who you'd been friends with throughout school. He was sweet, funny and could hold a conversation. You were doubtful you'd leave the dance with the love of your life but he seemed like he'd be fun to spend the dance with.

Carlos should've been at the dance but the commitments of his professional tennis career called him away.

He demanded you have the best time and call him to debrief after. You laughed and agreed, wishing him luck for his tournament.

Your date had arrived promptly, bringing flowers and shooting you a charming smile with a slew of compliments at the sight of you in your dress.

The evening had started well, with drinks and laughs filling the hall where the Formal was held. Your date had been a dream. Being respectful and beaming at you when you made a joke.

You danced with your friends and giggled your way through the night until the music shifter to being more romantic. The tune slowed and the groups dancing on the floor morphed into pairs.

Your date asked if you wanted to dance, extending his hand to you. taking his hand you moved to the dance floor and settled with your arms on his shoulders and his hands tentatively reached for your waist.

You both laughed and talked as you swayed to the music. You fell into a comfortable rhythm. His hand moved to the side of your face and he leaned forward.

Panic flooded your body as you realised what was about to happen, the characteristic gaze in his eye that you’d seen before in men. Your body went rigid and your mind went to the tall Spaniard who was in a hotel somewhere winding down from a day of playing tennis.

Before you let his lips meet yours you turned your head, shifting the almost kiss to your cheek. Unease settled in your stomach and you suddenly felt the need to get away.

You politely excused yourself from the dance floor, making your way to the exit in desperate need for some fresh air.

You stormed through the hallways pushing open the doors and letting the cool air hit you. Your lungs gasped for breath and you doubled over, hands finding your knees to support yourself.

Your head was pounding, your heart was racing and as you pulled yourself up. You could still feel the boy's hands burning into your side, your face alight from his touch. But you didn't find comfort in it, instead, it sent a sick feeling through you.

You sat down against the wall, your hand finding your phone in your bag. Silently, you dialed his number, putting the phone to your ear, and waited as the phone rang.

He picked up after just two rings. "Hola amor." (Hi love). His raspy voice signified you'd just woken him up, but you couldn't help the pang of warmth rushing through you when his words hit you.

He’d been calling you love since you were children. An innocent nickname which you would laugh off when people questioned. “We’re just friends” would echo through your mind every time that boundary felt as though it was shifting.

But if the nickname was so innocent why did it feel as though your heart was being ripped from your chest as the words. The quiet mumble of his voice, knowing he was on the other side of the planet while you’re here in the cold.

This wasn’t how friends felt about each other. Maybe you’d always known that, but you were just too afraid of what reality meant for you to face it. Too petrified by what a life without Carlos would look like if he didn’t feel the same.

You sat on the floor in your expensive dress as Carlos coaxed you from the ledge you felt you were sitting on. His soft tone burrowed deep into your soul, and a sense of calm flooded you.

Despite him clearly being exhausted, holding on to any slither of being awake to talk to you, he managed to rouse his consciousness. All because you'd called.

It was only when you finally left him, letting him get the sleep he so clearly craved, that you found your mind racing. You couldn't deny the feeling you felt anymore. But you sure would try.

…

Things changed after school. You went off to university, and your workload quickly increased, while Carlos flitted around the world, growing adoring fans everywhere he went.

You knew things wouldn't stay the same forever, and just a year after you had called him from your prom, he was slipping away from you rapidly.

Nightly calls shifted to weekly, then monthly. Soon, you heard from him sporadically usually in the middle of the night at whichever timezone he was in.

Quickly, the boy who you had grown up attached to, had turned into a man that you were beginning to not recognise.

You held on to the tethers of your friendship with every part of you. When you could, you would fly out and watch him play, organising your calendar carefully around the ATP tennis schedule.

Staying up late, texting him after a good game, calling him after bad ones. Sometimes he picked up, other times he didn't.

Then you saw her. The tall, drop dead gorgeous, must-be model draped off of Carlos' arm after one of the matches. His lips me there cheek in a video captured by a fan and you felt a pang of something you reluctantly recognised as burning jealously.

He had a girlfriend. A stunning, famous girlfriend. Who he hadn't told you about. It had been about a month since the two of you called, a five-minute conversation about the Spaniard's last tennis match.

He hadn't mentioned this girl then. Did that mean it was new, or just that he hadn't thought to tell you?

After seeing one photo on your phone, it was like you couldn't escape it. Every slide and swipe revealed more fan photos of Carlos, your Carlos, with this random girl.

You knew you were overreacting, he was 19 year old and one of the 'up and coming' tennis players. Of Course, he was going to find himself swarmed with beautiful women.

But the more you saw his hand around her waist or her hand draped across his chest. You couldn't help that the fire raged beneath your skin.

You reached for your phone desperately. The time was 8pm, and for once, Carlos was in a similar timezone, so you knew he should be awake. Your phone was ringing before you even had time to stop yourself. The phone rang mindlessly, and you waited.

After what felt like an eternity, you heard a gruff voice on the other end. "Y/N?" His questioning tone cut into you more than you'd like to admit.

Just 12 months ago he'd welcomed random calls, your nickname had fell so easily from him lips and you would slipped into conversation that harboured no specific topic.

But now, just you calling him had to have a reason. You sighed, "¿Tienes novia?" (Do you have a girlfriend?) He laughed, but you couldn't find it in you to find it funny.

"Que?" (what?) He was in disbelief. After being all over this girl on Instagram and twitter and every social media you opened, and HE was in disbelief. Over the girl he hadn't even deigned to tell you about.

"¿La chica? ¿por todo Instagram?" (The girl? All over Instagram?) your voice was lined with aggravation. You knew he could sense it as he paused, carefully thinking on where to step next.

His voice was quiet. "Ella no es nada. Ella es casual." (She's nothing; she's casual.) You scoffed,

¿Entonces ahora eres uno de esos tipos? (So now you're one of those guys?) Your words were laced with something vicious. You weren't mad at him. I mean, you were on the surface, but beneath that basic level of irritation, you were clearly mad at yourself.

While you had been sitting around waiting for Carlos to notice that you had been right there the entire like like an 80s rom-com, he had been forgetting you even existed, falling into some other woman's bed.

"Ah, de verdad Y/N" (Oh really, Y/N) He was annoyed, you weren't surprised. "No necesito esto de ti." (I don't need this from you)

Your blood boiled, your tone became increasingly sharp and distant from the soft mannered person Carlos knew so intimately.

"¿Y eso qué significa?" (And what does that mean?) You were acutely aware of every small sound coming from his side of the phone.

"¿Por qué te importa? No eres mi novia." (Why do you care? You're not my girlfriend.) It was like someone had thrown a bucket of ice-cold water over you, which pulled you back down to reality. Why did you care?

He was right. He owed you nothing. You weren't together, and he'd made it clear in every passing comment and mistake friends made. That he saw you only as a friend.

Meanwhile, you found yourself moving further past the point of no return with every interaction. Unable to hide the way you searched for his brown eyes in every crowd, even when you knew he wasn't there.

The way your heart raced with every phone call and you found yourself counting down the minutes till you would next see him. You were well and truly in love with your best friend and he had no idea.

His tone had cut into you, his soft demeanour replaced with a sharp and vicious manner. It hurt. Even beyond your newly realised feelings you had first and foremost been friends.

Sure, maybe in the last year, you had let the distance infiltrate the once disgustingly close relationship you two held. But you were still friends, and friends were supposed to tell each other things.

Your voice lost its edge, and the hurt manner came through, "Tienes razón. Pero se supone que somos amigos." (You're right, But we're supposed to be friends.)

You heard him call your name before your finger slid to the red button, but you didn't want to hear anything more.

You fell back onto your bed, your phone slipping to your side as you took a deep breath, desperate to clear the weight that felt like it had settled in your lungs.

Your eyes burn with tears, and you rub your hands harshly against your eyes, trying to displace the violent urge to cry. Your phone rang next to you, Carlos' goofy smile shining on your screen, but you couldn't bring yourself to pick it up.

…

It had been months. Without a single message, call or letter sent between you two. Carlos had been having the best season in his career so far, and you were trying to block that out.

For the first few weeks after the tense call, Carlos texted and called you daily. With profuse apologies and begging you to talk to him. But you stayed strong.

You needed space, not just to deal with your emotions from the argument but also to get over him. You couldn't be his friend when every glance he gave you made your heart race.

You still watched every match he played, shouting at the television for every slight misstep or mistake and cheering for every point won..

You couldn't help but wonder if maybe this was your destiny. Watching Carlos from the sidelines as he succeeded and outgrew you.

You had always assumed that you'd always be by his side, there to celebrate his success and wallow in his failure - it wouldn't matter if you were together.

But he had her now, and you had the hope of what could've been.

It came to a head at the US Open. Carlos had an incredible start to the tournament, breezing his way into the quarterfinals. You'd watched all the games from the comfort of your home and fought off the urge to message him daily.

Then he won the quarters. It was far from easy; Jannik Sinner had put up a fight, dragging Carlos into two tie breaks. You'd sat on the edge of your sofa, pleading to gods you didn't believe in for Carlos to win. When 'game, set, match' was called, you were flooded with relief.

Your parents called you the next day, announcing that they would be flying out to watch Carlos play and that you should be going too.

Your chest constricted at the thought, but you forced out, "Él no me quiere allí" (He doesn't want me there.) Your parents scoffed in disbelief at the current state of the relationship between you two.

"Sí, cariño. Probablemente seas la única persona que quiere allí." (Yes, he does, honey. You're probably the only person he wants there.) Your heart picked up at the idea of Carlos wanting you there. But you knew it wasn't in the way you wanted it.

If he wanted you there it was the same way it always was. As his childhood best friend, who he kept around because he always had and not because he couldn't imagine a world without you.

"No puedo ir, tengo clase." (I can't go I have class) You heard a sigh through the phone, but you wouldn't let your resolve crumble. You helped your parents pack and fielded more pleas to watch the match before they left to go to the airport.

You sat down in your silent living room inhabited by just the sound of the tennis commentary to watch Carlos' semi-final game. It was another grueling five-setter, with Carlos conceding tie breaks once again.

When the game had started, you felt solidified in your choice to stay home, but with every point won, you watched as Carlos' gaze flitted to his box, over the faces of his family and yours. He wasn't smiling and cheering; he was...looking or searching.

You mother knew you'd be sitting at home watching the game no matter how much you had pretended to move on. Which is why halfway through the match, she sent you a text that broke your heart.

Mama: "Te está buscando. Le preguntó a Virginia si vendrías antes del partido." (He's looking for you. He asked Virginia if you were coming before the match)

Carlos took the final point, confirming his place in a grand slam final and putting himself on the brink of making history. But he didn't celebrate as much as you'd expected.

His eyes watched his family, a smile beaming on his face, but as someone who knew Carlos intrinsically, you could see the way the smile didn't quite reach his eyes and the way he seemed deflated rather than on the top of the world like he should.

Your heart plumeted to your stomach. You wanted to be there, wrapped up in his arms, celebrating his achievements.

You wanted to stay up that night to discuss the grand slam title on the horizon and remind him that no matter what happened, the results wouldn't change how you felt.

Before you knew it, you were booking a flight. Even if Carlos didn't feel the same way and couldn't love you the way you loved him, this was bigger than that.

This was the same Carlos who was always there for you when it mattered, even with the distance that had grown between you. This was your way of fighting for him and the friendship that had seen you through your entire life.

...

You arrived at the stadium with nerves coarsing through you. Though you had told Carlos's family and yours that you were showing up so they could get the right passes for you - you'd kept it from Carlos himself.

The crowds swarmed towards the stadium, but you made your way towards the locker room where you knew Carlos would be getting ready.

You knocked on the door, and you heard the voice that had followed you for 19 years calling you into the room. He had his back to you, talking to Juan Carlos as he stretched out his hamstrings.

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, clearing your throat as the nerves started to find you again. What if he didn't want you here?

"Alguien me dijo que tal vez necesitas algún apoyo extra. (Someone told me that maybe you need some extra support.) Carlos's head immediately snapped around to face you, getting out of stretches and closing the distance between you before you could process it.

His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him, burying his head into your neck. It was like coming home. The warmth that blossomed in your chest as you felt the Spaniard's stubble brush your neck.

Your arms slid around his neck, holding him close to you. One hand slid up to his head resting in his hair. He sighed against your neck, and you smiled as you whispered, "Lo siento, no vine antes." (Sorry I didn't come earlier.)

He shook his head against your neck, his voice coming out as a murmur, "Es todo culpa mía. Me alegra que estés aquí. No puedo hacer esto sin ti." (It's all my fault. I'm glad you're here. I can't do this without you.)

He pulled his head from your shoulder, his hands finding rest on the sides of your face. He rested his forehead against yours, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes.

His touch burned your skin, every word sending shivers down your spine. "No quería hacerlo sin ti." (I didn't want to do this without you.)

You couldn't stop the words from leaving your mouth as Carlos's gaze bore down on you. "Te amo, más de lo que un amigo debería" (I love you, more than a friend should.)

Confusion darted through Carlos's face as he took in your words. His hands fell from your face, and you took a step back, your heart shattering at the look on the Spaniard's face.

He opened his mouth to speak, but you stopped him. You grabbed his hand and ran your thumb gently over his hand. "Ve a ganar y podremos hablar más trade." (Go win. We can talk later.)

He beamed at you, wrapping you up in a final hug that left you smiling. His lips met your cheek, and his mouth rested by your ear, "Nos vemos allí" (See you out there).

You nodded, fighting against the urge to move your head slightly and kiss the man who had plagued your mind for so long. Instead, you stepped back turning and headed toward the court.

You gave Carlos a final glance as you let the stress of the match begin to build.

The match was tense. You could feel the atmosphere drowning the crowd. The precipice of history being made calling.

Carlos played phenomenally. Every point was careful, precise and planned out. Casper Ruud never stood a chance. With every win, Carlos would turn to you, meet your eyes and cheer.

Your hands began to sweat and the nerves reached their peak in the final set. Every mistake moved you further the the edge of your seat but Carlos refused to lose.

One break and then the second, and before you knew it, it was a championship point. The crowd was silent. The tension was palpable, but as Carlos reached up for his serve, you felt a wave of calm rest over you.

He had it. You saw the gleam in his eye as he hit the ball, the grunt escaping his mouth with the hit. He darted across the court, each movement perfected.

Then it hit. The crowds screamed and Carlos fell to the floor. The screams rang in your ears as you watched him. He sobbed on the hard court, and your hand reached to your mouth.

It was only as your hand touched your cheeks that you noticed you were crying. The sight of Carlos blurring through the streaming haze of tears.

You felt his family and yours wrap their arms around you, bringing you back into the present. Looking back to the court, you could see the Spaniard beginning to climb through the audience towards you.

His mother by your side was whispering, "El lo hizo" (He did it.)

You grabbed her hand, laughing and smiling, and you spoke, "él realmente lo hizo" (He really did it). She wrapped you in a hug and told you how happy she was you were here and you couldn't help but agree.

You couldn't imagine not being there to celebrate this moment with Carlos. When you turned back to look for Carlos, he was climbing into the box, immediately being attacked by his team.

They cheered, and his shoulders shook with sob,s but he didn't stop moving. He found his family letting them shower him in praise but his gaze fixed on you.

He moved towards you, and your heart rate picked up. The look in his eyes was the same unidentifiable emotion you had seen before.

But before you had a moment to consider what it meant, Carlos's hands were on your face, connecting your lips.

You froze at first, shock radiating through you at the feelings of his lips on yours. But as Carlos went to pull away his hands slipping from your face, your hands found purchase on his neck pulling him closer.

You kissed him like he was oxygen, and you had forgotten how to breathe. The way his hand found your waist and the other slid into your hair.

The kiss was messy and desperate, but it was 19 years in the making, and you needed him like you needed water. The world around you disappeared as he pulled you impossibly closer to him.

It was out of a movie, like fireworks inside your chest and under the surface of your skin.

He groaned into your mouth but reluctantly pulled away, resting his forehead against yours, matching your deep breaths. His smile split across his face, and he sighed, "Por cierto, yo también te amo." (By the way, I love you too)

You laughed loudly, taking in the cheers from the audience around you and the unadulterated smiles from your family and his team around you.

You glanced at the screen to see you and Carlos projected on it, your cheeks immediately turning red at the realistation that everyone had seen that moment.

You turned back to Carlos, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, which elicited another cheer from the crowd. Your hand rested on his face, and you beamed, "Te amo campeón" (I love you, Champion).

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This got away from me a bit, actually. I'm sorry/you're welcome.

#I went crazy during this #this took way too long #enjoy me going crazy #mind is gone #carlos alcaraz I love you #carlos alcaraz #tennis #alcaraz #carlitos #atp tennis #carlos alcaraz fluff #carlitos smut #carlos alcaraz smut

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endzithefangirl · 8 months ago

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Scandals

Authors note: So, let's talk the Sinner doping thing first. I think the story is legit, it was one billionth of a gram. But, I do think that if Jannik wasn't no. 1 and from Italy he would have been suspended until the investigation ended. Still found innocent, but he'd be benched for a few months at least. As for Carlos smashing rackets... Honestly it was hot. At least to me... I was shocked because he never does stuff like that but I think the Olympic final was still in his mind and he just lost it. Anyway, enjoy these crappy shot fics!

Summary: Two short stories in which our two talented young tennis players, who have recently been in 'scandals', need a little reassurance

Warnings: English isn't my first language, no use of Y/N, gender not specified, everything stated in the Autors note is my opinion and I do not ask everyone to agree!

Word count: 711

Carlos Alcaraz x Reader

"Hey," you say as you enter Carlos' hotel room. "You okay?"

"Mmmmh, come here," he replies, looking you up and down. You walk over and hug him, smoothing out his messy hair. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in close, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and taking a deep breath. You hold him tight. "What was that about, hm?" you ask cautiously, referring to his anger at the court. He leans his forehead against yours, sighing.

"I just lose myself sometimes. I get too in my own head, too competitive, too hard on myself." He presses closer against you.

"You broke a racket; we were all so shocked..."

Carlos huffs, slightly embarrassed. "I know, I lost my temper... again. I should have done better, but I just couldn't keep it together."

"It's okay," you say, trying to calm him down. "It's okay, baby. Everyone has off days. You weren't feeling great, and Monfils just decided to play his best."

He exhales loudly. "I know, I know, but it's just so irritating. I wanted to win so badly, needed to win so badly... but I just kept screwing up and making stupid errors and—" He stops talking and rests his forehead against your shoulder.

"It's okay. Now you need to relax, get back into the headspace for the US Open. Okay?"

He wraps his arms around your neck, his body pressed tight against yours. "Will you help me? Help me relax?"

"What do you want me to do, baby?" you ask, looking gently into his eyes. Carlos' grip around you tightens, and a vulnerable look enters his eyes. He lets out a deep sigh as he lays his head on your chest. Your touch is soothing as his arms wrap around you, his eyes closing, melting into your embrace.

"You better, baby?"

He nods, nuzzling his face against you. "...Much better…" He pulls you tighter against him, almost like he doesn’t want to let go. Carlos stays there, listening to your heartbeat, feeling the steady rise and fall of your chest. He presses gentle kisses against your collarbone and shoulder, feeling a little clingy.

"Mmm, you wanna stay like this for a bit?"

He nods, slightly embarrassed by the clinginess but too tired to care. "...Just a little longer..."

Jannik Sinner x Reader

"Damn, they really booed you," you say as Jannik comes back from his first-round match. Jannik sighs in annoyance. He walks to his locker and grabs a towel. With a hint of irritation, he responds, "That’s nothing new."

He takes off his sweat-soaked shirt. "Yeah, but... they were really booing. It's because of the doping scandal—" He pulls out a clean shirt and starts getting dressed. "I don’t know why they still think I’m cheating..."

"...Well, you did get off better than most people would have..."

Jannik closes his locker a bit too hard. He runs a hand through his curly red hair and looks at you. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, if you weren't world number one, and you didn't have the fancy lawyers, and if it wasn't one billionth of a gram—"

He cuts you off, getting closer to you. The annoyance is evident in his voice. He looks you in the eyes, his tone low and serious. "You think I’m protected because I’m world number one and have money for fancy lawyers?"

"Do you think that if it was me, they would have let me play before I defended my case?"

He's silent for a moment, thinking about what you just said. His face slowly relaxes, and he looks away. "No, probably not…" he says, his voice calmer now.

"Look, I know you're innocent," you say, standing up and wrapping your arms around his bare shoulders. "But you need to know that you got the absolute best-case scenario that most people wouldn't get."

Jannik's face is now completely relaxed too. A few beads of sweat run down his bare chest. He puts his sweaty arms around your waist and looks into your eyes again. He doesn't argue with you anymore because he knows you are right. "I didn’t really see it like that before…"

"You're not a bad person, Jannik. You're just so fucking lucky it's annoying."

#carlos alcaraz #carlos alcaraz x reader #carlos alcaraz imagine #jannik sinner #jannik sinner x reader #jannik sinner imagine #tennis #tennis x reader

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alacants · 2 months ago

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Ok ok I have a scenario. What happens if carlos alcaraz doesn't happen. Like what would happen if this big blinding ball of energy and sunshine, magic kid and saviour of tennis and whatever just didn't exist. WHAT happens then???

you KNOW i love a good What If!

i mean what carlos did was drive the bleeding edge of the youngest generation right up against the fading end of the big four era. like roger announcing his retirement 4 days after carlitos won his first slam is really something. that i didn't put together until just this minute. (yeah the writing was on the wall but let me have my NARRATIVE.)

so without carlos, maybe someone's doing that but maybe not. maybe the 90s kids who've been smothered their whole careers get to breathe?? a couple extra years in the sun before the shadow of jannik sinner descends??

i mean OR MAYBE NOT maybe jannik wins that uso qf and goes all the way. (rip casper.) but tbh i think that even if he does it wouldn't be quite as much of a shock to the system—the three years of up and downs from 2019 to 2022 soften the effect into a more natural progression. as opposed to carlos rolling up to win his first 500, masters, and major—TWO majors—all in the same year. this fucking kid lmao. so maybe jannik (or holger! or someone else!) steps in and takes some of carlos' titles, but even if that happens i bet you anything the impact is less paralyzing and the mid-gen still manage to like. rack up some results. believe in themselves. lmao.

and for that matter, that's if we assume jannik develops similarly to irl—i'm sort of intrigued by the counterfactual where jannik doesn't make the jump from piatti quite so quickly. like, he's EOY top 10, he's won some titles, so what if he isn't beating medvedev or tsitsipas or rafole or making it past the early slam rounds, neither is anyone else his age. yet.

having said that i don't think the dissatisfaction jannik felt with where things stood in early 2022 had all that much to do with the presence or absence of carlos in particular (who was also not doing most of those things yet) so for now we'll set that aside.

anyway so. without carlos, the big rivalry among the younguns is jannik and holger. hahahahaha. and, look, i bet it's not as thorny as it is irl because you don't have the ready-made big three comparisons, holger is probably way better adjusted??? yeah i'm thinking this is who the big winner of a carlosless universe is. holger rune. jannik is (at first) an attainable level of rival and it's not like there's someone else leaving both of them in the dust! meanwhile holger-novak becomes the djokoraz of this universe. and without carlos who was literally born to be a media beloved, holger's the next-best material—like yeah he's ~dramatic and ~controversial but he gives them more than jannik. so what you have is ljfkldajf janholger is the new fedal. no, the new rafole. help i can't stop laughing. i hope jannik is visited by a dream vision of this universe someday.

M E A N W H I L E what is happening at the juan carlos ferrero tennis academy? i mean, it's a normal tennis academy. juanki has a normal job cultivating the youth. it is a little bit crazy to think of the effect that carlos had on juanki's stature and career. like otherwise juanki has the zverev experience and is like oh HELL no—or. hm. actually this is a different and fascinating question, ha, was juanki itching to get back into top-level tennis badly enough that even after getting burned by the zverev experience he would have given it another shot with a non-carlos player. or would it have redirected him definitively back to the academy.

…….this train of thought is colliding with the discarded counterfactual above + the tidbit that jannik allegedly almost went to rafa nadal academy to produce an outcome that from a pure storytelling perspective i should have anticipated yet somehow didn't see coming. hope you enjoyed witnessing the thought process in real time.

RIGHT so what happens if carlos alcaraz doesn't exist is: juanki coaches jannik to a gripping career rivalry with holger rune. TA DA.

/user alacants out

#successfully killed the last 40 minutes of work with this. thank you op.#btw thinking abt what if jannik didn't leave piatti in 2022 was the moment i felt the icy chill of “what… did i write in the other post…”#anyway this reminds me i need to get back to the carlitosverse ask. i love the multiverse!!!#ask #ficposting

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latin5mamii · 10 months ago

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we belong (together)- Carlos Alcaraz

|Warnings: a bit smut

|Summary: What if the one man you hate it’s going to hast you until you fall for him?

You really thought that he could let you live your life in peace?Obviously not.

That’s what you thought as soon as you saw him sitting on Jannik’s couch.That smirk on his face made you want to end him,literally.

"Hey there," he said, his voice low and teasing as he approached you.

You rolled your eyes, already bracing yourself for his antics. "Let's hope you're less annoying tonight."

Carlos chuckled, clearly enjoying your banter. "No promises."

You found a spot on the couch beside Carlos, where a pile of pillows awaited.Jannik touched your shoulder to get your attention and whispered to you.

“Cercate di non uccidervi,ok?”

“Try not to kill each other, alright?” He seemed pretty serious, he was probably really scared that you could kill him.You don't rule it out, but you will try your best.

You soon decided to watch a horror movie, just to get the night more exciting.

“Try not to get too scared”He says in a playful way.

“I don’t think there’s anything that could scare me more of you”You say,faking a smile.He laughs softly.

“Don’t be rude”You focus on the movie, you don’t want him to ruin your night.

But is he really ruining your night or is he making it better?

You get distracted from your thoughts by a painful pinch,he gets near your ear and whispers something in spanish.

"¿Estás asustada?" He teased in a low voice, a playful glint in his eye.You narrowed your eyes at him, not understanding the words but catching his teasing tone. "Cut it out," you muttered under your breath, trying not to let his closeness affect you.Carlos chuckled softly, leaning back against the couch with a smirk. "Just checking," he replied in English, though his eyes still held that mischievous spark.

As the movie progressed, Carlos's teasing escalated. He would throw pillows at you playfully or lightly poke your arm, always with a smirk on his face. You found yourself laughing despite trying to maintain a serious façade during the scary scenes.

At one point, during a particularly intense moment in the movie, Carlos leaned over to grab another pillow. His hand brushed against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through you. He looked at you briefly, his eyes meeting yours in a fleeting moment of shared amusement before returning his attention to the movie.

Despite his teasing, there was a warmth and familiarity between you that was hard to ignore.Why was that and why did you feel this way?

During a pause,Jannik and Anna decided to go get some popcorn,leaving you guys alone,again.Why did Jannik leave you two alone every time?This was getting exhausting.

You don’t even have the time to go with them when a pillow lands perfectly on your face.”You are so childish,Carlos” you say laughing,throwing the pillow back at him.

“Pillow battle?”he says with defiance.

“I’m in”

The pillow battle escalated quickly. You and Carlos were both on your feet, throwing and dodging pillows with increasing intensity. The playful banter continued, each of you trying to outdo the other.

"Is that all you've got?" Carlos taunted, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

"You're asking for it," you shot back, launching a pillow directly at his face.

Carlos caught the pillow and lunged forward, closing the distance between you. Before you knew it, he had you pinned against the wall, a pillow pressed against your chest. His breath was warm against your face, and his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

"Got you," he whispered, his voice low and teasing.

You glared at him, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach. "Let me go, Carlos."

"Not so fast," he replied, leaning in closer. "I think you like this more than you're willing to admit."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt a blush creeping up your neck. You tried to push him away, but he held firm, his body pressing against yours.

"You're insufferable," you muttered, though your voice lacked conviction.

Carlos chuckled, his eyes never leaving yours. "And yet, here we are."

He moved the pillow aside, his hands resting on your hips. The playful teasing was gone, replaced by a palpable tension that left you breathless. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, and the look in his eyes made it clear that he wanted more than just a pillow fight.

"I think I hate you," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Carlos's grin widened, and he leaned in even closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "You keep telling yourself that."

Before you could respond, he closed the gap between you, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. The intensity of his kiss took you by surprise, but you quickly found yourself responding with equal fervor. Your hands tangled in his hair as he pressed you against the wall, his body pinning you in place.

The kiss deepened, and you felt a rush of desire unlike anything you'd ever experienced.Carlos's hands roamed your body, teasing and exploring with a skillful touch that left you trembling. He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark with lust.

"Tell me to stop," he murmured, his voice rough with need.

You shook your head, unable to find the words. Instead, you pulled him back to you, capturing his lips once more. The world around you faded away as you lost yourself in the sensation of his touch, the thrill of his kiss, and the undeniable connection between you.

Suddenly, you heard footsteps approaching the living room. Your heart skipped a beat, and you quickly pushed Carlos away, both of you scrambling to look as casual as possible.

Jannik entered the room, a tray of drinks in his hands and a curious look on his face. "Hey, what’s going on in here?" he asked, glancing between you and Carlos.

You quickly grabbed a pillow and pretended to fluff it. "Just a little pillow fight," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "Carlos here was losing, as usual."

Carlos smirked, playing along. "Yeah, she got a lucky shot in. But I was just about to make a comeback."

Jannik raised an eyebrow, but didn't press further. "Well, I've got drinks. Anna’s coming with more popcorn." He set the tray down on the coffee table and took a seat, oblivious to the charged atmosphere.

You and Carlos exchanged a quick glance, a silent agreement to keep the moment between you. As you both settled back into your spots, the tension still lingering, you couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness. What had just happened between you and Carlos was undeniable, but now was not the time to dwell on it.

Anna returned with a bowl of popcorn, her cheerful demeanor lightening the mood. "Ready for the next movie?" she asked, handing out the popcorn.

"Absolutely," you replied, forcing a smile and taking a handful of popcorn. "Let’s see if this one’s scarier than the last."

As the next movie started, you could feel Carlos's eyes on you occasionally, the memory of his touch still fresh in your mind. Every so often, he would lean in close, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered playful comments about the movie. His teasing, however, had taken on a new edge—one that made your heart race and your cheeks flush.

Despite your best efforts to focus on the movie, your thoughts kept drifting back to the kiss, the way his hands felt on your body, and the unspoken promise of more to come. It was clear that things between you and Carlos had changed, and you couldn't deny the growing attraction that simmered beneath the surface.

By the time the movie night was over, and everyone was getting ready to leave, Carlos pulled you aside one last time.”By the way,you’re pretty when you pretend you hate me”

“I really hate you”

“Even if you don't want to, we belong together"

#carlos alcaraz #x reader #tennis #carlos alcaraz x reader #fanfic #smut #carlos alcaraz imagine #carlos alcaraz fanfiction #enemies to lovers

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kb9-ships-mistercriky · 7 months ago

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“Sinner has proven once again that he's the best tennis player in the world. At least for me, the level he's playing is incredible. His shots, physically, mentally… He is a beast”

Carlos Alcaraz on Jannik Sinner after final in Beijing 2024, before the ceremony

#carlos alcaraz #jannik sinner #sincaraz #tennis #atp #beijing 2024

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seasidefae · 3 months ago

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Lando is smiling so big! I didn’t notice that either. Yep, I can totally picture wag!oscar standing there and Lando being one of the few drivers that know who he actually is to Carlos and being so happy for him!! Maybe it’s Lando who gets Carlos’ head on straight and convinces him to fly to Australia to get Oscar back?

i don't have this written in the upcoming one-shot (yet?) but the first time carlos "introduced" lando to oscar was on their second meeting at the tennis match. carlos sent lando a pic of alcaraz and oscar and just captioned it "catching up with my namesake!!" and lando goes "whos that other guy?" to which carlos just says "oh that's oscar." from then on, lando hears nothing except oscar this and oscar that from carlos. he has no other option but to assume something.

so YES definitely, the moment lando finds out his best friend is possibly fcking up the one good relationship he has, he WILL have some words

#fae says #full throttle

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lucy90712 · 1 year ago

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First kiss- Carlos Alcaraz

"Do you use tongue on a first kiss?" Asks the interviewer

Most people would fully expect Carlos to say no including me but no his inability to lie kicked in again. He simply nodded his head and smiled while his cheeks went a bit pink but I think mine were worse I imagine I looked like a tomato.

Carlos brought me to this interview as I had just made it out to Australia after missing the first few matches due to work and he wanted to spend time with me. I was expecting a normal interview with a few basic questions as I've been with him to plenty of interviews like that but this one was a little different from the start as it felt more like a little game show or quiz show thing. It was nice to have something a little different and I was enjoying it until that question and answer came up. All of the crew shot me a glance as when we arrived Carlos introduced me as his girlfriend now I'm really wishing he didn't. I know exactly what they were all thinking they were wondering if Carlos did that when we had our first kiss and that's what everyone is going to wonder when this interview comes out.

The story of our first date and first kiss was bound to come out one day but I was hoping that would be further down the road and that people would think it's a cute story but now this interview will be in the back of everyone's mind. It is a cute story though.

~~~~~~~~~~

Most people never get to experience going on a first date with someone even remotely famous let alone a famous tennis player who is very much well known across the country and the world. Somehow I've found myself in that exact situation who knew looking like an idiot on a tennis court could end with a date with a professional player who somehow found your awful attempt at tennis endearing.

I feel like I should be nervous but for some reason I'm not. I just don't have any expectations I never thought I'd be in this situation so if things don't go well then my life hasn't really changed I've just been on another bad first date. It's only if things go well that things will change which is definitely a problem for future me which is why I'm not really that bothered right now. As much as I'm not nervous I do want to make a good impression as Carlos was really nice and he's incredibly attractive. In my mind to make a good impression and not just seem like any random girl I had to make sure I dressed up and made myself look nice. I did some stalking before today so I know that Carlos could probably have any girl he wanted definitely someone prettier than me so I want to look my best and hope my personality makes up for the rest.

Carlos said he would pick me up from my apartment at 8 and exactly as the clock turned 8 I got a text and the buzzer to my apartment went off. I made my way downstairs at lightning speed not wanting to keep him waiting too long which was exhausting but as soon as I saw Carlos' face and his bright smile running down 5 flights of stairs felt worth it. He greeted me with a hug and we made our way out to his car where he opened the passenger side door for me before getting in himself. When we planned this date he simply asked me my favourite type of food and if I have any allergies and that was it so I assume we are going to a restaurant but other than that I don't have a clue what we are doing. He drove us out of the busy city centre and into a smaller more rural town which I had never been to before. We drove for a few more minutes before he pulled into a parking space outside this small, quaint looking restaurant. It wasn't somewhere that I'd have ever found myself but I'm excited to try it out.

Being a wonderful gentleman Carlos opened my door for me and offered his hand to help me get out which I didn't need but I wasn't going to miss out on the chance to hold his hand. He kept hold of my hand as we walked into the restaurant and were shown to our table, he only let go to pull out my chair for me and take my jacket. He was being so lovely which I'm not going to say I didn't expect as I'm sure his parents raised him right but you never know how someone with such a big following is going to act I mean I've had a run in with a footballer who was the rudest person I've ever met. Carlos is different though he's been nothing but kind since we met and clearly he hasn't let his success get to his head.

We both ordered our food and got to talking properly for the first time since our brief interaction when we met. I really thought we'd have nothing in common as our lives are nothing alike but we actually had so many common interests and our lives growing up weren't as dissimilar as I thought they would be. We ate our food which was so delicious but we both just wanted to keep talking. I've never wanted a first date to keep going as much as I do with this one I think I've finally found my person and when I least expect to as well.

After dinner Carlos drove me home and this time he came up to my apartment with me as he wanted to make sure I got in safely. While he was there I gave him a quick tour of my apartment before the time came that we had to say goodbye to each other. As we were saying goodbye there so much built up tension we were both looking into each others eyes and then at one another's lips. Carlos took the initiative and leant in finally attaching our lips, the kiss was amazing feeling his lips against mine everything felt right in the world. He took me by surprise when he added his tongue to the kiss I wasn't complaining but I didn't expect him to be so forward on the first date or with our first kiss. When he pulled away he pecked my lips before saying goodbye with a smirk on his face and me with the biggest smile on mine.

~~~~~~~~~~

I was so distracted reliving my first date with Carlos that I had zoned out of the rest of the interview. I only came back into reality when I felt a kiss be pressed to my cheek by none other than the guy I was thinking about who has made the best boyfriend. He smiled at me and helped me up from the chair I was sat on before giving me a proper kiss which also garnered a look from everyone else in the room which made me blush.

“Are you ok?” Carlos asked

“I’m fine just next time you do an interview maybe don’t tell everyone that you use tongue on the first kiss or at least not when I’m in the room it attracts attention” I said

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to embarrass you” he apologised sincerely

“Its ok I’ll forget about it in a few hours but don’t you dare go telling anyone about the first time we had sex or I will kill you” I smile walking off to the car ready to go back to the hotel

#carlos alcaraz oneshots #carlos alcaraz x reader #carlos alcaraz imagine #carlos alcaraz imagines #carlos alcaraz

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fritzes · 1 year ago

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my tennis edits

Jannik Sinner + Talk 🥕

Jannik Sinner (Australian Open Run) + Written in the Scars 🏆

Ons Jabeur + Good Riddance (Time of Your Life) 🥲

Taylor Fritz + California Dreamin’ ☀️

Maria Sakkari + Just Like Fire 🔥

Daniil Medvedev + Hold On 🐙

Novandy + Old Man Song 🤝

The New Gen + Vienna ⭐️

Sincaraz + Maybe It’s a Good Thing 🤩

De Sinnaur + Demons 😈

Carlos Alcaraz + Go The Distance 🐝

Indian Wells + Paradise 🌴

Taylor Fritz + In This Body 😓

Ben Shelton + I Want It All 📞

Andy Roddick + The Music or The Misery 🎙️

The “Mini Three” + Castle 🏰

Dominic Thiem + Good Life ❤️‍🩹

Karolina Muchova + I'm Still Standing 👍

Jannik Sinner (Post-Puke) + Another One Bites the Dust 🥇

Carlos Alcaraz + Miniature Disasters 💪

RuRu + Nobody Puts Baby In The Corner 🩳

Sincaraz + Northern Attitude 🏔️

Stefaniil + Hold Me Like a Grudge 🐈

Iga Świątek + Don’t Stop Me Now 🥯

Igaryna + Hit Me With Your Best Shot 💘

Sincaraz (2022 US Open Quarterfinal) + Twin Skeleton’s (Hotel in NYC) 🌆

Jannik Sinner + Hall of Fame 🎿

Jannik Sinner + Young Volcanoes 🌋

The Perpetual Wimbledon Finalists + Only Happy When It Rains 🌧️

Sincaraz + Maybe It’s A Good Thing (Second Edition) 🤩

Taylor Fritz + California Dreamin' (Second Edition) ☀️

Jessmaria + Just Like Fire ❤️‍🔥

Coco Gauff + Try 👟

Taylor Fritz (US Open) + Fake Out 🥈

2024 WTA Tour + Demigod 🧚

2024 ATP Tour + So Good Right Now 👬

The American Men's Tennis Curse + So Much (For) Stardust 🇺🇸

#decided I want this as my pinned #and the emojis were just a fun idea lol #video edit

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batsplat · 9 months ago

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Re your tennis post tags pls talk about misogyny and men's vs women's tennis thank uuuuu (sidenote I don't really watch tennis but are skirts mandated for women to wear? Are dress code rules in general that strict?) 🙏

(follow up on this) there is a far more in-depth post on this to be made, but not for now. this is really mostly just. bits I cut... pasted together

here's a little more detail on the differences between the men's and women's games:

with the exception of a few mixed doubles competitions, men and women are always competing separately - and they are different tours to follow. this is true of both the type of game being played as well as the competitive picture. the men's game is more dominated by the serve, and having a good serve is pretty much a non-negotiable element of being a top player. this is also the shot that is most influenced by height (and yeah, obviously men do tend to be taller). the serve/return dynamic is fundamental for more genders, but it's more important in the men's game the modern men's game tends to involve a lot of high margin aggression, exemplified at the highest level by djokovic and formerly nadal. there's generally a lot of power play from the baseline... big serves, big 'serve plus one' forehands - aka the third shot of the point. also, big serving counterpunchers/defensively-inclined players are mostly only a thing in the men's game. the women's game has more breaks of serve, and also... a little more contrast in what type of playstyles you can use to succeed? the broad dichotomy fans will often talk about are 'bashers', highly offensive players with very high counts of winners and errors, and 'pushers' highly defensive players with low counts of winners and errors. there's also a bit of a third cluster, the players who rely on a lot of variety and mixes of spins and speeds to make their game work. while these broad distinctions also exist in the men's game, with women you can get a bit more extreme in how purely offensive or purely defensive players are obviously, it's not as straightforward as that. within the current men's top ten, you have high variety offensive all rounders like alcaraz, baseline high margin bashers like rublev (sinner is a more fully developed version of this basic archetype), and defensive grinders like medvedev. on the women's side, swiatek at her best exemplifies high margin aggression, with more topspin that she uses to aim for bigger targets than the typical basher. sabalenka is a little more basher, but both her and rybakina aren't the 'purest' versions of bashers either. gauff is the closest the current top ten has to a pusher. look, these are just very, very broad generalisations - but men's tennis doesn't have a penko (or not as successful) and women's tennis doesn't have a hurkacz (the closest you get is haddad maia imo, but that's more somebody who's neutrally trading than pushing)

anyway, one of the fun things about tennis is that you do have these two clearly distinct flavours with different competitive balances and different types of match-ups to engage with. I think it's quite natural to gravitate towards one or the other, to feel more passionately about one tour or the other. I was going to include a note about how that's completely fine, but in all honesty I am running a little low in patience with fans who completely refuse to follow the women's game. yeah, I'm biased, I think it's a lot better than the men's game right now - but also I do still watch the men, and often there's a lack of willingness to even engage with the wta at all. the women's tour can be a bit more volatile and you do need to open yourself up to a scary world where more than three players are contenders in any given slam, but like. just enjoy that depth of field. there's several players who are still plenty consistent if you need that to orientate yourself

then on the misogyny stuff, specifically in the current game and not on a historical level:

well. where to start. at pretty much every mixed gender tournament, there's scheduling discourse and men being given the more prestigious slots. roland garros is a repeat offender on this count. a few years back they introduced 'night sessions' just on philippe chatrier (the main court) where they have a different ticket for just one match, and it's also a thing where they have a specific deal with a different broadcaster within france (aka amazon prime). this year, not a single women's match was scheduled during that session. thing is, none of the players really like the session so most women aren't exactly clamouring for it either (honestly everything about these sessions just sucks) but it's still...? not great? people use the best of five versus best of three thing as a justification (which I find inherently frustrating because I too would prefer bo5 for women) but then don't have it for one match? us open night sessions have two matches, one men's and one women's, which gets rid of the problem

also roland garros did this thing where they just scheduled all the women's matches early in the day, basically as if to get them out of the way? the first session of the day is called the graveyard shift, the vibes are weird and there's like three people watching on the court, it's proper depressing when a slam quarterfinal is happening with that lack of atmosphere

of course, you do also have the exact same flavour of faffing about in tour level matches, where the length of product argument falls away (everyone plays bo3). we don't generally have cases any more where it's just men's matches being scheduled on the main courts or whatever, but more insidious stuff

so we've gradually had a switch from one week masters/1000 tournaments to two weeks, for a bunch of commercial reasons even though... are there any fans who like this? it really just does not work, like there's a week where basically zero big names are playing and it feels like you're just sitting around forever waiting for the tournament to properly kick off. but the gender element is in how the tournaments balance the men's and women's scheduling, where often they front load the women's matches and rush through a bunch of rounds, which means that in the second week you suddenly end up in this situation where the women's tournament has almost completely been played while the men's tournament gets to hog more of the spotlight

a darkly funny example of this came at madrid this year (because of course it was madrid), where the men's tournament just straight up sucked while the women's tournament produced several all time classics. so it meant that for instance on the 30/4, we had eight men's matches and two women's. on the 2/5, we were supposed to have two men's matches and the two women's semis with the men getting their own day on 3/5, but in a brave example of being an #ally the two men's matches that day managed a full set total between them

there's also like. crowd issues. part of this is because society just straight up sucks and doesn't show up as much for women's tennis. part of it is also a complete failure in marketing. part of it is the wta's organisation and calendar decisions - like figuring out where they'll host their finals like two weeks before d-day or putting a bunch of tournaments in the middle east where the crowd numbers are.... not great. just depressing, this roland garros was also really bad for that

accessibility. men's tennis has tennistv, women's tennis has... geo-locked wta.tv, which does also suck. any mixed gender channels tend to make some howlers in terms of what they're choosing to show. can't get people into the sport if they can't watch it!!

prize money outside of the slams is still very unequal

general wta incompetence. includes all the stuff mentioned above, as well as various other mishaps. the marketing is terrible, you can see it in the highlights and social media content they put out. the highlights game is genuinely laughably bad, you have fans do a way better job but then they get hit by copyright claims

sometimes we do get women's players speak out about some of these issues, like the general outcry during madrid last year prompted by cake gate. it's rarer than would be ideal

also just various non-structural bits of misogyny, including how the game is treated by journalists or individual men's players and so on. anyway, on the dress question - women are allowed to wear shorts, BUT there was a big controversy a few years back when serena wore a ''''catsuit'''' to roland garros and the rules were changed for the subsequent year to ban it

this was back in 2018, mind you. here's an article about some of the historical controversies relating to women's outfits. tennis has a weird problem with women just wearing sports leggings, which. that's basically all this is, like they're not exactly uncommon, are they. I wear them while playing tennis most of the year

the other recent more positive development is that wimbledon finally last year agreed to let players wear dark underwear in response to protests about how needlessly unpleasant the situation was for women worried about their periods

which is kinda. yeah this is good but why on earth was this still a thing

#//#batsplat responds #tennis #very cobbled togetyer but eh

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killercahill · 1 month ago

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I absolutely enjoyed reading your previous reply. I have watched a few older matches' clips and/or highlights, and when the slams used to be played on grass more often, i thought the play style belonged to that era because of the nature of the surface itself. the varieties indeed gave 'identities' to different players, and some may have stood out even more than others. I am alright with different types of surfaces, and unfortunately, I grew up watching matches played majorly on the hard courts. I watched some of the carpet courts because of my parents but barely remember any of the memorable matches from it. I don't have much of preferences on whether I like modern style more or not, because i think play style evolves with the court conditions and balls. But, I do enjoy good rallies and smart shots choices. It doesn't have to be fancy, as long as it works. I remember Darren mentioned that he was the 'cheaper' version of Rafter to describe his play style, and I like how he figured out his opponents' weaknesses to win points. I think if I were a player, I would play like that too.

It is fun to talk about this, so let me ask another question to you :) Do you have a favourite player in the 80s and/or 90s that is not that famous or never won a grand slam? and if you were to describe their play style, who would they remind you of the newer players?

Oh, I love this question! It's always fun to talk about the players who maybe didn’t get all the glory but still left an impression.

One player that comes to mind from the '80s is Miloslav Mečíř. He never won a Slam in singles (though he did win Olympic gold in 1988), but he was such a smooth, effortless player. His movement was almost cat-like—he glided around the court and had incredible touch. If I had to compare him to a modern player, he had shades of Daniil Medvedev, with that unorthodox but incredibly effective style. Mečíř didn’t have the big serve that Medvedev does, but he had similar court coverage and an ability to neutralize opponents with his variety.

From the '90s, I’d say Marcelo Ríos. He actually did reach World No. 1 but never won a Slam, and he had such an intriguing game—lefty, crafty, incredibly talented. He reminds me a little of Carlos Alcaraz in terms of shot-making and creativity, though Alcaraz is much more powerful. Ríos had that same ability to take the ball early, change direction with ease, and make the court feel smaller for his opponents. If anything, I wish Alcaraz had gotten to watch Ríos at his best because he might have stolen a few tricks from him!

And really how am I not supposed to mention Darren? His scrappy, fast-moving, strategic game that reminds me a bit of Ferrer in the 00s - someone who made up for a lack of overwhelming power with speed, endurance, and smart shot selection.

For a modern equivalent? It’s tricky because true serve-and-volley players are so rare now. If we’re looking for someone with great court coverage, fast movement, and the ability to read the opponent, Alex de Minaur comes to mind. He’s got that relentless speed, and while he’s not a natural serve-and-volleyer, he’s improving his net game. Like Darren, he plays with a lot of heart and intelligence rather than relying on sheer power.

I think it's part of what makes Jannik so deadly. He has the combination of great coverage, fast movement, and the firepower - but you can also see him thinking through points, figuring out how to break down his opponent

#anon asks #tennis

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news365timesindia · 3 months ago

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[ad_1] Djokovic was forced to retire from his semi-final match against Alexander Zverev at the Australian Open on Friday. (PC: X.com) Day 13 of the Australian Open 2025 delivered high drama and emotional rollercoasters as Novak Djokovic’s quest for history came to a painful halt, while Alexander Zverev and Jannik Sinner booked their spots in the men’s singles final. In the highly anticipated semi-final at Rod Laver Arena, Djokovic’s resilience met its match — not in Zverev, but in his own body. The 37-year-old Serbian, chasing a record-extending 25th Grand Slam title, was forced to retire after dropping the first set 7-6(5). Having battled a muscle tear sustained in his quarter-final victory over Carlos Alcaraz, Djokovic’s movement was visibly hampered from the outset. He pushed through with sheer grit but signalled to his box after the tiebreak, conceding defeat in a rare moment of vulnerability. “I’ve played through pain before, but today it was beyond my limits,” Djokovic said post-match, his disappointment evident. “It’s tough to leave a tournament this way, especially here in Melbourne, but I’ll take time to heal and come back stronger.” Zverev, who had lost to Djokovic in their previous Grand Slam meetings, expressed sympathy for his opponent. “Novak is a warrior. If he can’t continue, you know it’s serious,” the German remarked. “But I have to focus on what’s ahead now — an opportunity to finally win my first Slam.” Meanwhile, in the day’s second semi-final, Sinner showcased his growing maturity and dominance, dispatching American sensation Ben Shelton 7-6(2), 6-2, 6-2. The Italian world No. 1, now into his second consecutive Australian Open final, demonstrated clinical precision under pressure. Shelton, who had two set points in the opener, struggled to keep up with Sinner’s relentless baseline assault. “I knew the first set would be crucial,” Sinner said. “Ben is a dangerous player, and I had to stay mentally strong. I’m happy with my performance and looking forward to the final.” Despite the straight-sets defeat, Shelton remained optimistic. “I’m getting closer,” he said. “I had my chances and I’ll learn from this experience. There’s a lot to build on for the rest of the season.” With Djokovic out of the equation, the final presents Zverev with perhaps his best chance to claim an elusive Grand Slam crown, but Sinner’s form suggests he won’t relinquish his shot at history easily. As the Australian Open nears its climax, all eyes are now on Sabalenka, Keys, Sinner and Zverev, each seeking to etch their name into Grand Slam history. The post Australian Open 2025: Djokovic’s injury heartbreak, Zverev’s opportunity and Sinner’s march to the final appeared first on Sports News Portal | Latest Sports Articles | Revsports. [ad_2] Source link

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unforced3rr0r · 2 months ago

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NOT YOUR GIRLFRIEND || CA, Pt.2

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Part 1

summary: Trying to get over Carlos was going well until you run into him a month later.

pairing: carlos alcaraz x fem!reader

warnings: none :)

a/n: I need a happy ending.

It had been a month since Carlos left you crying in your apartment. You had tried moving on, ridding yourself of any remnant of the tennis player from your apartment.

You bought new sheets, boxed up the hoodies and tennis kit he had left over the months you saw him, hiding away the photos, jewellery, and every gift that made what you two had felt more than just casual.

For the most part, you felt lighter as if the weight and pressure of being Carlos' secret had slid off your shoulders like a warm shower on a winter day. However, every breath of comfort came with a sharp sting of regret.

The night was the worst. The silence that filled your bedroom left only memories of the nights spent together when he promised you the world. You couldn't help but keep an eye on his results. Catching every match he won and focusing even closer on the ones he lost.

You were acutely aware that when your friends planned their trip to California, dragging you with them, you would be just minutes away from Carlos competing at Indian Wells.

As you dressed up in a skirt that was slightly too short, with heels that were slightly too high, the thought of him lurked in the back of your mind. As you met your reflection in the mirror of the hotel bathroom your mind flickered with the images of him.

Your friends called your name snapping the tall Spaniard from your mind as you shot them a smile and left the room.

Arriving at the club was like a breath of fresh air. The music filled your body and in an instant, the tension faded from your body.

"Happy we came out?" your best friend shouted to you over the music,

"very, I needed this." She smiled a wrapped her hand in yours pulling you to the dance floor. You let the stress leave your body as you moved with the beat, laughing with your friends around you.

A tall guy appeared behind you, he was handsome and his hands found a place on your waist as you swayed together. For the first time in both, you didn't see his brown eyes in this stranger, and you relished in the moment.

You smiled at the man and turned to face him. His hands drifted to your face but just as began to lean in, ready to capture your lips with his, you pulled away.

"I'm going to get a drink." The guy smiled but his annoyance at the rejection was clear in his face but you couldn't bring yourself to kiss him.

You pulled yourself to the bar. You fell into the chair and pushed your hair out of your face, making eye contact with the bartender,

"Vodka coke please." the bartender smiled and nodded and moved to make the drink when a Spanish accent came from behind you,

"Two please." Shivers covered your arms, your hair standing up straight at the warm tone of the man you had been desperately avoiding. You kept your eyes focused on the bar as you felt his body move closer to you.

"You ignoring me?" His voice hit your eyes and you finally turned to look at him. Your eyes met his and suddenly the brown eyes you'd spent the last few months running from were watching you.

He smirked at your visible frustration, tense shoulders, and how you suddenly sat up straight. Your eyes narrowed on his appearance, an unbuttoned shirt and dishevelled outgrown hair.

His forehead and chest were glistening a sign that he had also been on the dancefloor. You gave him a cold glare and turned back towards the bar.

Your hair fell in front of your eyes and as you reached up to move it, your hand met his. His gentle touch tucking your hair behind your ear. You could feel the heat from his hand and with every brush of his skin on yours, you felt your heart in your throat.

"Don't." you pushed his hand away, as the bartender placed the drinks in front of you, your hand reaching out and taking the glass, knocking back the drink the burn of the vodka warmed your throat.

His presence still loomed next to you and you waited painfully for him to give up and leave like he did last time.

"Lo lamento." (I'm sorry). You scoffed staring down at your empty glass. You motioned to the bartender for another glass.

"You have nothing to be sorry for Carlos, we were casual, and you ended it. It's fine." He shook his head his eyes still watching your every movement.

The bartender slid you the drink and you nodded to him, getting up from your seat at the bar and turning to face Carlos, "Have a nice night Carlos."

You began walking back in the direction of your friends, ready to head home and wallow in the memories the tall Spaniard had just dredged up.

Just as you were leaving Carlos' vicinity you felt his hand wrap around your wrist. He turned you to face him his hand sliding to your neck, forcing your eyes to meet his. "Can we talk, please?"

His thumb moved softly up and down your neck, an action that reminded you of the nights spent watching cheesy movies on his sofa. Your head in his lap as he traced patterns along your neck.

"Y/N" his voice cut through your memories bringing you back into the moment. You watched his eyes scanning your face for any sign of cracking, and your furrowed eyebrows softened.

"Five minutes." His lips widened into his classic smile. He pulled you away into a secluded corner. The music was muffled in the corner and the lights were dimmed.

Your back was against the wall and Carlos' large statue towered over you. One of his hands rested on the wall behind you and the other settled on your waist. Trapped between him and the wall you had no choice but to meet his eyes.

"no puedo dejar de pensar en ti." (I can't stop thinking about you) You felt a shiver run down your spine. A sharp intake racked through your lungs.

"Carlos-"

"Please, Y/N, let me say this," His hand slid up your side returning to your neck, "I need you to hear this."

His hand held your face delicately, his forehead meeting yours as he closed his eyes and breathed in deeply.

"Fuck, you know how hard it has been to play when all I can think about is you." His hand slid into your hair,

"I thought I could just move on, that this was casual or nothing, that it was forgettable. But you're not forgettable." Carlos' eyes bore into yours.

Your hands settled on his face, the feeling of his unkept stubble rough against your fingers. For a month you'd imagined him turning up at your door and telling you some version of this.

"I can't be a secret anymore Carlos, I can't do it." His hand moved from the wall to your waist, pulling you into him,

"You are so much more than a secret. I never should've treated you that way." He smiled as his nose brushed yours as if giving you a chance to back out before he leaned in closer.

His lips met yours a second later and it was like coming home. Your hands slid behind his head, pulling him into you as he groaned into your mouth.

His hands pulled your hips close to his as you kissed as though you were starved for air and he was oxygen. All the stress and pent-up energy of the last month was felt in the rough kiss.

His hands travelled to your ass lifting you off the ground as you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, pulling him into you. His lips moved from your lips to your neck, finding the sport that drew light moans from your lips.

At the sound of your moans, Carlos pulled away briefly, a guttural sound coming from him as he pressed his forehead to yours. Both of your chests moved violently up and down, catching your breath.

"Come to my match tomorrow." Your eyebrows furrowed again.

"I'm not going to sit in the stands Carlos." He lightly kissed down your neck.

"I want you," He kissed slowly up to your lips, "sat in my box," he kissed the corners of your mouth, "as my girlfriend."

You grabbed his face pulling him away from where he was leaning in to kiss you. Your heart was racing as you forced him to look at you.

"Are you serious?" Carlos laughed and you hit his chest,

"Ow. you wound me." He captured your lips with his, smiling into the kiss. "This last month made me realise how dumb I've been."

You pecked his lips, with your thumb rubbing his cheek, "So dumb."

You moved to pull him back into a kiss but he stopped you just before your lips met, "Is that a yes?"

"Shut up and kiss me Carlitos." He laughed and let his lips meet yours, the kiss filling your entire being with warmth as your heart thudded in your chest.

#carlos alcaraz #tennis #alcaraz #carlitos #carlos fluff #Carlos Alcaraz fluff #pookie #love him #need him to win everything

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