#stefanos tsitsipas fic

[game-set-canet]

Can you write something about tsitsipas and reader playing with or against each other in a mixed double match? I would love to see them both in action 💗😁

Double Trouble

Pairing: Stefanos Tsitsipas x f!reader

category: fluff

warnings: none

Author’s Note: The reader is very good friends with Denis Shapovalov (her double partner in this imagine - i have a thing for him as we all know, i hope that's ok). I hope you like it, lovely anon! It was great fun to write💙

*Y/N = your name

MY MASTERLIST

(not my gif! credits to the owner/creator!)

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“Have you seen the draw?”, you jump out of bed and make your way over to your boyfriend who was sitting on the couch editing his newest vlog video.

Stefanos looks up from his laptop: “Huh?”

“The draw for the mixed doubles!”, you flop down next to him, “We will play each other in second round!”

A grin comes to Stef's lips, and he raises an eyebrow: “You seem quite confident that you and Denis will win your first round.”

You roll your eyes – that’s the same your coaches said when Denis and you decided to also start in the mixed doubles: “Yes, I know that we didn’t play together recently but we’re still a very good team!”

The passion with which you say that makes Stef laugh softly: “I know, I’m just teasing.”, he brushes a strand of hair from his face, his gaze becomes thoughtful, “That’s gonna be a very interesting match…I bet the journalists will ask us about it in the press conferences after our single matches tomorrow.”

“Really? I mean, yes it will be special, but not THAT special.”, you wrinkle your nose as you rock your head from one side to the other, “I don’t see a reason why we should talk about it that much.”

“Honestly?”, he closes the laptop and frowns, “I think it will be very special. I mean, that’s the first time we will play against each other. We’ll have to fight each other and in the end one of us will lose, you know?”, he looks at you with big eyes, his tone is serious, “Just imagine: I’m hitting an ace during the last set and that’s the reason you lose the match.”,  he pauses for a moment before starting again, “Wouldn’t that be a strange feeling? One of us would be happy and the other one is sad?”

“Stef, it’s just a tennis match.”

“And you don't take this seriously enough!”

Instead of discussing it further with him, you slide closer to him and kiss him for a long time.

*** *** *** *** *** ***

Stefanos and Maria were leading 4:1 in the first set.

Your double partner and you simultaneously sit down on your bench and let out a loud sigh. While your partner grabs one of the drinking bottles, your eyes are fixed on your opponents – or rather on one opponent – as they walk past you to get to their bench.

“Stefanos looks so good in these colours – Adidas did great work with creating this kit”, you think while following the Greek with your eyes, “The light-coloured top contrasts beautifully with the dark trousers, which are almost skin-tight and-“

An elbow poking you in the side interrupts your thoughts: “Could you please stop staring at his ass for a moment?”, your partner's voice is like an energetic whisper, “I’m trying to focus!”

You feel your cheeks heat up and you clear your throat to suppress your embarrassment: “What?”

“Stop staring at your boyfriend! He is the enemy now!”

“I’m not staring!”

Denis says nothing in response, he just raises an eyebrow and shakes his head before he gets up from the bench to change sides.

“Hey! I’m not starring!”, you repeat as soon as you are next to him on the court, “I was…lost in thoughts, you know? Thinking about our strategy.”

“My dearest Y/N, don’t lie into my face, we both know that’s not true. Because whatever was going on inside your head: it wasn’t about our match strategy. I would even go so far as to say that it was all about Tsitsipas. Am I right?”

Unfortunately you couldn’t think of any argument against his words, so you just look at him with narrow eyes: “Why are you so annoying, Shapovalov?”

Denis just laughs at you and waits for the ball kids to hand him the balls for his service game.

*** *** *** *** *** ***

The rain came out of nowhere. The umpire had no other possibility than to stop the tiebreak.

“To be honest, I didn’t think we would make it to the tiebreak.”, Denis leans against the wall in the tunnel. You were told to wait in here until the umpire gets new information how to deal with the situation or until the rain stops.

You raise your head to look at your double partner: “Why not?”

Maria also looks over at you, Stef kneels a little apart from you to tie his shoes.

“I don’t know…you just seemed very distracted the whole set.”, Denis' grin has something suggestive, and he nods over to Stef.

Maria understands what he means and starts to laugh while she looks back and forth between you and Stefanos.

“Stop saying such things! The whole set you were making fun of me!”, you know your face is turning red like a tomato, you shoot him angry glances “I don’t know why I agreed to play doubles with you!”

Stef’s making his way back at you, first he looks at you but he knows you well enough to know you won’t answer any questions, so he looks at Denis, asking curiously: “Why is she angry at you?”

Your head snaps up and you shake your head vigorously as you literally beg Denis: “Denis, no! Please don’t-“

But your friend just grins at you and answers: “Because I pointed out that she isn’t entirely focused on the match but on you.”

“I hate you.”, you mutter while your face turns even redder.

Stef doesn't say a word. He just blinkes a few times before he softly smiles at you.

*** *** *** *** *** ***

You won the second set. Somehow.

Denis looks at you while you take a big sip from your water bottle: “How the hell did you return his last service?!”

“What do you mean?”, you nearly spiled the bottle because you tried to closed it with just one hand, the other hand was searching for the banana in your bag, “It was quite obvious that he was going for this variety?”

“What? I…what? No?”, Denis looks at you puzzled, “I mean, I couldn’t read his serving motion…how the hell did you do that?!”

“I’ve practised with Stef countless times and watched him practise even more. I guess, that’s why I can read his service game.”, you shrug.

And suddenly you realise the weight of your words.

Yes, you could read his last service game but it’s so much more.

You’ve been together for almost a year now – although it feels like you’ve been together for a little eternity. Most of the time you could read each other like an open book.

Stefanos always exactly knows how you are feeling and what to say to cheer you up or to encourage you when you’re down. At the same time, you always seem to know what Stef is thinking, what is on his mind and what is going through his head (although, to be honest, it has to be said that with Stef it was a lot of different things at the same time).

Maybe your ability to read his game wasn’t caused by your shared practise time but because you know this man like no other.

Your heart aches a bit as it hits your how much you love him.

Denis doesn’t notice your lost-in-thought look, instead he scowls at you: “Where was this service-game-reading during the first set? And especially during the tiebreak?!”

“And where was your first service during said time?!”

Denis says nothing in reply but makes a face.

After a few seconds of tense silence you both start laughing at the same time.

*** *** *** *** *** ***

Leaving the court after your winner interview, you fumble your mobile phone out of your bag. There were several messages on the display, but you just open the messages from Stefanos. He must have sent those three messages right after he left the court and came into the locker room.

Message 1: »I hate playing against you. Next time we’re playing as a mixed double. Together.«

Message 2: »You played amazing ❤️ And I love how happy and proud you looked after you aced me and won the deciding tiebreak. Congrats! 🥳«

Message 3: »Also: Hurry up with your press conference! I want to celebrate your win!🥂🥰«

You smile at his messages but can’t suppress a deep sigh: Yes, you are happy that Denis and you won the match but at the same time…you feel so sorry for Stef. And you feel kinda bad for winning while he lost.

Stef is right: it was a strange feeling playing each other.

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tagging: @bluetackbaby @lxndonorris @fedalev

[diegoalvesisgod]

tennis players & zodiac signs

Stefanos Tsitsipas - Leo

[jensons-buttons]

Anyway gonna read my emotional support comfort Saschanos fic and cry myself to sleep trying to get over the heartbreak <3

[drizzitwrites]

Six Sentence Sunday

Honestly like... I want to post this WHOLE ENTIRE THING. Which... It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve done that, but I think I won’t.

Also, have y’all ever done that meme where it’s like “if someone stumbled upon your work and it was tagged as being written anonymously how would they know it’s you?” Well. Apparently, in addition to RIDICULOUSLY long sentences and gross abuse of ellipses and em-dashes, we can now add “writes two paragraphs of the scene she intended to write and then slides on in to 4000 words of flashback/backstory/set-up scene like it ain’t no thing.” because I keep doing it.

Seriously, not just with this fic, but with this one in particular the timelines are a mess. Like... I promise y’all this fic had a plot and it was very linear and it made a lot of sense, but apparently all I want to actually write is all the things that came before it so you can get the context for what happens later in the fic. I’m rolling with it for now. I can always re-structure and start the fic at a different point in time later on in editing. For now I’m just going to roll with it because I’m back to actually enjoying the process of creating words.

So... here you go. More than six sentences and only a short snippet of one part of this whole scene/section that I could have shared many parts of. Also! It’s a new fandom and a new pairing than any of my previous writings (solo writings, at least) so... sorry that many to all of you will have no context for anything that’s going on. I promise you I’ll get back to your regularly scheduled Christian and Vincent have deep feelings about everything very soon.

Also... Nick Kyrgios is a class A fuckboi, so yes, many of his thoughts/sayings are borderline offensive. Please know that I know this and that I have very consciously chosen to make him like this because these are based very tightly on real actual things that he says in real actual life. He’s just like that.

“You didn’t answer my texts, so, I thought... perhaps you were already asleep. You should be, you know, it’s past one o’clock in the morning and you have a match tomorrow.”

Nick had to laugh at this. “But you had no problem coming in and waking me up anyway. I see how it is. You’re all talk.”

Stefanos’s face flushed an even deeper red and he stared down at the hideous carpeting of the hotel corridor. “I... I didn’t...”

“I don’t care, you know,” Nick said, stepping forward and closing the distance between himself and Stefanos with a few short strides. “In fact... please consider this an open invitation to come in and wake me up whenever you damn well please.”

He slid his fingers beneath Stefanos’s chin, the scratch of stubble rough against his skin, and pressed gently upward until Stefanos’s face was tilted towards his. The fingers of his other hand tangled in the curls of Stefanos’s hair as he drew him in for a kiss.

They were in public, the corridor of a New York City hotel never deserted for long, no matter the time of day, but he knew the risks and they were definitely worth it. Worst case scenario, he could pretend he’d gotten stupid drunk and while Stefanos was helping him to his room he’d mistaken him for a hot chick he was trying to bang, then in the morning pretend he had no idea any of it had happened. Stefanos probably wouldn’t get over it as easily, but Nick could work on that.

It was worth it for the press of Stefanos’s lean, lithe body against his own, his tongue chasing the mint taste of toothpaste off Stefanos’s tongue, which, Nick noted, was definitely just as far into his mouth as Nick’s was into his.

Stefanos let out a small moan, relaxing into Nick’s arms for a few seconds before he tensed up and dragged himself backward and away from Nick, his brown eyes wide and dark as he glanced up and down the still, thankfully, empty corridor.

He took a step backward, then another, putting a safe distance between the two of them. Nick didn’t follow. He’d let him have the space. Probably better that way anyhow.

That didn’t stop him from looking straight into Stefanos’s eyes and running the tip of his tongue slowly along his upper lip. He let out a satisfied huff of a laugh at the way Stefanos’s body gave a little jolt at the action, his breath visibly hitching in his chest before he let out a small cough.

“I... um...” Stefanos said for what felt like the millionth time that night, his uncharacteristic loss for words a sign that he was well and truly flustered.

[game-set-canet]

The focus of a camera

Pairing: Stefanos Tsitsipas x f!reader

Summary: you work as a professional photographer and you might have a little crush on a certain Greek tennis player, who suddenly starts talking to you

category: fluff, getting to know each other, first date(?)

warnings: none (except maybe bad writing (and too much use of the words "excited" and "exitement"))

Author’s Note: I know that this isn't my best work but this idea has been on my mind for a long time, I just had to write it 😅 also: I know nothing about camera models and I know that Stef played Barcelona right after Monte Carlo last year but yeah, let's imagine there was a week in between

MY M A S T E R L I S T

(not my photo! credits to the owner!)

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“Y/N, I know he is very handsome but I’m pretty sure you already took enough photos of him”, your colleague laughs softly and looked back and forth between your camera and the tennis court. You blushed and turned your head away while your eyes automatically searched for the young Greek again, but now you had to focus your camera on his training partner Jannik.

Your colleague was probably right: you had taken many many more photos of Tsitsipas than of Sinner and you were actually paid to take good photos of both. You have been working for the TennisChannel for a year and together with your colleague you are responsible for the training photos and match photos of the ATP players.

After the players finished their training and after you took some last photos of them doing a handshake and a little small talk, you two decided that it was time to pack your things since you had a busy schedule: after lunch you had to take some photos of Nadal’s training with Alcaraz.

You were carefully stowing the various lenses in the bag when someone approached you: "This is the latest camera model, isn't it? It's only been on the market for about three weeks." "Yes, I got it yesterday and wanted to try it out right away," you answered as you turned around and froze: Stefanos Tsitsipas was standing in front of you, giving you a warm smile.

You realized that you were staring at him, but you couldn't do anything about it - your heart was beating up to your neck, your thoughts were racing in your head: Stefanos Tsitsipas was standing right in front of you, and he was talking to you!

"I was thinking about buying it too, but I wasn't sure if it wasn't a little too bulky. This model is bigger than the previous one," Stefanos' eyes slid back and forth between your face and the camera in your hands. His skin was covered with a fine film of sweat, a single strand of hair had come loose from his headband and his tennis shirt had clear sand marks on the left sleeve. He looked drop dead handsome.

You took a silent breath and tried to form a clear thought: "Do you want to try it out? I think it's actually very good." with these words you held the camera out to him and prayed that he didn't notice how your hands were shaking. His expression lit up and his smile widened, "Oh yes, I'd love to!", carefully he took the camera from your hand, your fingertips touched, and the touch sent little electric shocks through your body.

"I'm Stefanos, by the way!"

"I know," you laughed awkwardly, "My name is-"

"You're Y/N. I know. I love your photos!"

"You know my photos?"

Stefanos turned the camera in his hands and looked at it closely, chewing with concentration on his lower lip: "Sure! The TennisCanel photos have gotten much better since you started working there!”

You felt like you couldn't breathe out of excitement, so you just smiled at him and flicked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. But Stefanos was apparently too busy with the camera to realize your excitement for him. Suddenly he raised the camera in front of his face, turned in your direction and a soft "click" broke the silence. "Hey! What are you doing?!" you exclaimed, shocked and your cheeks turned red. Stefanos didn't expect you to get angry, he swallowed nervously and tucked his loose strand of hair back into his headband: “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to…well…I’m sorry.” “No, I didn’t mean it that way! I was just a little surprised”, you tried to smile at him but carefully avoided to make eye contact with him.

There was an awkward silence that ended with Stefanos handing you back the camera: "It's really good, but a bit heavy, isn't it? The AXDK model is lighter."

"Mhh, unfortunately I don't know the AXDK model - I've always wanted to try it but-"

"I can show you if you want."

You start at Stefanos in disbelief, unable to utter a word: “What?”

"I mean...if you want...I mean, I take a lot of pictures...and, I mean...I already have a small camera collection at home, so…yeah.”, he stuttered and pressed his lips together.

You knew that was a stupid idea. You knew that you should refuse in a friendly but firm way. But before you could think about it, you replied, "Yes, I would love that!" and you had never seen Stefanos smile so happily.

*** *** *** *** ***

Only five days later he invited you to meet him at his apartment right here in Monte Carlo. You didn’t think he would have time for you since he just won Monte Carlo Masters – his first ever Masters 1000 Tournament – but he assured you that he had plenty of time and would be very happy.

You were incredibly excited the whole day, couldn't eat properly because you were so nervous. When you finally stood in front of his apartment door and he opened the door, you almost fainted out of excitement.

At first, the atmosphere was very awkward, none of you knew what to say but then you started to talk about the different cameras and suddenly all the awkwardness was gone. Both of you were so excited to finally have someone to talk about all the different types and models of the cameras. Later this evening Stefanos was showing you his image editing program he used to work with on his iPad, both of you starring at the display when suddenly a little message popped up at the right corner of the tablet.

Stefanos’ brother Petros texted: »How is your “it’s not a date – it’s definitely not a date – but yeah, I really like Y/N” going?«

Stefanos sat next to you with his eyes wide open, almost frozen, his hand was shaking: “Uhm…this…Petros is just…it’s…you know…did you read it? Of course you did, why am I even asking…”

“I…I can pretend I haven’t.”, your voice was a soft whisper, you didn’t know what to think.

“No! Actually, I think it’s good that you saw it. I probably would never have had the courage to tell you...”

“Tell me what?”

“I...I already wanted to talk to you during the ATP Cup in January. And then during the Australian Open. Then in Rotterdam. And then in Mexico. But I never had the courage to do it…but when I saw you next to the trainings court a few days ago I HAD TO talk to you”, he smiled at you, looking unusually shy doing so.

“Why now?”

“You looked so beautiful standing there, totally concentrated on your camera equipment and that was the moment I thought: Ok, if I don't go and talk to you, I'm sure someone else will and...I didn't want that.”

Your heart was beating in your cest because you were so amazed at that moment. Hearing these words now from Stefanos made you suddenly feel butterflies in your stomach: “Stefanos?”

“Mh?”

You waited till he turned his head and looked at you.

“I really like you too.”

[game-set-canet]

imagine idea-based on trouble by natalia kills

Ride with me, I know your friends say that I'm trouble

Hold me down in the siren lights

"Don't look back when you walk away

I'm the best mistake you'll ever make"

Stefanos sees a girl in the crowd of his matches always, shes always there. He notices that shes always watching him but cant meet his gaze. His team is worried she's a stalker but he's intrigued by her, she's on his mind and he wants to know who she is. She's trouble, but she's the best mistake he'll ever make

In a crowd of people

Pairing: Stefanos Tsitsipas x f!reader

category: strangers attached to each other(??)

warnings: none

Author’s Note: unfortunately i didn't really know how to implement the request…but i hope i got it halfway right! 🙈 Hope you like it! 🤗 also: English isn't my mother tongue, so I apologise for any mistakes!

MY  M A S T E R L I S T

(not my gif! credits to the owner/creator!)

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Stefanos was serving for the match. It was a tight match and not everything went according to plan: but he managed to win the first set and was leading in the tiebreak of the second set: just one more point and he’ll win the second round of the Monte Carlo Masters 2022.

After bouncing the ball three times he raised his head to do his service as his eyes are caught by a female spectator. Stefanos blinks and pauses: the young woman looks familiar. Where had he seen her before? He only realises a few moments later that he had paused in his service in mid-motion.

Laslo Đere raised an eyebrow and looked over at Stefanos in confusion, the spectators murmured in irritation and the umpire didn't quite seem to know whether to point out the expired shot clock to Stefanos.

Stefanos takes a deep breath and tries to concentrate on the service. The moment the tennis ball hits the T-line - Laslo wasn’t able to reach it - Stefanos is struck by the realisation that he had already seen her in his first match against Fognini. She had been sitting on the same seat in the front row, directly opposite his bench.

After the handshake, Stefanos' attention wandered back to the woman in the front row. How had he not noticed her the whole match?

*** *** *** *** ***

The first thing Stefanos notices when stepping out of the tunnel onto the court was her. She was sitting on the exact same seat in the front row opposite of his bench. His heart skips a beat. She was here! Again!

Doing the whole match his thoughts keep wandering to the mysterious woman. She wears a white dress, black sunglasses, and a black handbag in her lap. Shame about the sunglasses because Stefanos wants to look her in the eyes. He really wants to know if this is just a coincidence or if there is something bigger behind her visiting all his matches, sitting in the exact same seat.

*** *** *** *** ***

“Did you see her?”, this is the first thing Stefanos says to Petros after beating Zverev in two sets. His younger brother sighs quietly, but nods: "Yes, I saw her."

"So, what do you say?"

Petros looks at him, grimaces: "That I find it extremely strange that she has attended all of your matches - and ONLY YOUR matches - so far...and has always sat in the same seat.”

“What? Why?”

“Well…she never asked for a photo or an autograph. Even when you were standing almost right next to her and all the other fans were pushing towards you, she didn't even try to go to you...she just looked at you.”

“She looked at me? Did she take off her sunglasses? Did you see her whole face?”

“No! Stef, that’s not…not what I mean!”, Petros shakes his head, he looks a bit worried, “Why the hell are you so excited about her?”

“Why not? Isn’t it very exciting and also mysterious that there is a beautiful woman watching all my matches but leaves as soon as I won? She doesn’t watch any other player…only me. I wonder why…I really want to ask her…”

“You are insane!”

“What? Why?”

His younger brother is silent for a few seconds, bites his lip: “Because this woman could…could be dangerous! A stalker! I don’t know but this situation is certainly not ‘exciting and mysterious’!”

“She isn’t a stalker!”

Petros suddenly raises his voice, he’s shouting now: “YOU DON’T KNOW THAT!”, he takes a deep breath and looks at his older brother, “Stefanos, please! The longer I think about her, the more certain I am that she is trouble”

Stefanos just shakes his head. Petros doesn’t understand him.

No one does.

When he talked to his father and his physio about this woman in the stands, they both just looked at him in irritation. His father urged him to concentrate on the tournament, his physio saw things similarly to Petros: the woman could be a crazy stalker.

But something in Stefanos told him that she was not.

Something about her fascinates him.

*** *** *** *** ***

He won Monte Carlo. Davidovich Fokina played a good match but at the end he had no chance against Stefanos. Because already in the morning of the final Stefanos had made a plan: after the match - whether he won or lost - he would approach the woman.

So, as soon as the linesman had qualified the ball as "OUT", Stefanos runs to the stands. Barely 10 seconds had passed since he had won the match, but the seat where the young mysterious woman had been sitting all the time was already empty. Stefanos is disappointed. He had the feeling that today he would manage to talk to her – although he doesn’t know what he would have said to her.

Stefanos grits his teeth angrily as his gaze falls on something gleaming silver. On the lays a fine silver necklace. "Can you give me that, please?" Stefanos frantically addresses a boy who had run up to Stefanos at the railing to take a selfie with the tennis player. The boy seems a little perplexed, but hands Stefanos the necklace. Her necklace.

Some minutes later he gets the congratulations from his team.

His brother raises an eyebrow: “Stef, please tell me that’s not what I think it is…”, Petros points at the necklace.

“It's none of your business!”, is all what Stefanos says as he wraps it around his right wrist.

Yeah, he had different plans for the day: he wanted to talk to her but since she disappeared within seconds he had to make new plans…and maybe this necklace would be the key to everything.

*** *** *** *** ***

From now on, he looked out for her at every match. But she never showed up again. Not in Barcelona, not in Madrid, not in Rome, not in Paris and not in Stuttgart or Halle. Stefanos began to feel stupid: what did he expect? That the mysterious woman would follow him all over Europe?

And he hates to admit it but maybe Petros was right, and the woman IS trouble. Because even after 3 months he keeps thinking about her, dreaming about her. It was a bit embarrassing: he knows nothing about her! He doubts he’ll ever see her again, but he keeps her necklace on his wrist.

*** *** *** *** ***

Stefanos almost forgets how to breath and stumbles about his own feet as he steps on court to play Ivashka at the Mallorca Open 2022.

She is here again. Sitting in the first-row opposite of his bench.

His heart skips a beat, and he suddenly feels nervous.

She’s here again!

He doesn’t know what to think.

*** *** *** *** ***

She visits all his matches. Cheering with the crowd as he beats Ivashka in the round of 16, Giron in quarterfinal, as he sends home Bonzi in the semi-finals and as he wins the Mallorca Open against Bautista Agut.

She is here. And when he rushes to the stands right after the handshake with Roberto and the umpire she is still here. She greets him with a smile as he stands right in front of her. He is heavy breathing from the long match, sweating because of the heat and nervous like a little schoolboy.

“Congrats.”, her voice is soft, velvety, and yet sends goose bumps down his spine, “Your first carrier title on grass, isn’t it, Mr. Tsitsipas?”, she says almost teasingly.  

“Yes, it is.”, he answers – suddenly realising that he has no idea what to say to her. This isn’t the right place to ask why she visited all his matches since Stefanos isn’t even sure whether that aren’t just coincidences.

But before he could open his mouth, she starts talking again: "I think you have something that belongs to me. I'd like it back.", her eyes sliding to his wrist with her silver necklace, "How about we meet in the hotel bar of your hotel tonight?"

"At the hotel bar?"

"Yes, around 7pm?"

But before he can answer, the young woman stands up and nimbly and determinedly makes her way through the waiting fans. Seconds later she is swallowed up by the crowd.

*** *** *** *** ***

“YOU CAN’T BE SERIOUS! STEFANOS! YOU ARE NOT DOING THAT!”, Petros is desperate. He has his hands on Stefanos’ shoulders and shakes him not very gently.

Stefanos rolls his eyes and buttons his shirt: “Stop that! I don’t discuss this. I just want you to cover for me if our fathers want to talk to me, okay?”

“NO! IT’S NOT OKAY!”, Petros grasps Stefanos' wrist to hold him back, “Stefanos, this woman could be anyone! A journalist, a crazy fan, a stalker, a…a kidnapper, a murder, a-”

“You are exaggerating.”

“YOU DON’T KNOW THAT!”

But Stefanos doesn’t care about his little brother and leaves the hotel room at 6:50pm.

*** *** *** *** ***

She’s already waiting for him at the bar. She looks very pretty. And she doesn’t wear her sunglasses! She has very beautiful eyes. Stefanos feels his heart speed up.

Stefanos is nervous, his hands are shaking. He doesn’t know what to say but after the greeting the woman immediately began to speak: “Thank you for finding my necklace and taking such good care of it”

They’re sitting next to each other, her fingers ghosting about the necklace on his wrist. Stefanos swallows.  

He takes a deep breath and looks her straight in the face: “Did you lose it? Or did you leave it on purpose?”

“What do you think?”, her eyes twinkle, she smiles in a mischievous way.

“I don’t know. But I think it’s very unlikely to lose your necklace right on the seat.”

“Mh.”

Silence.

She sips her drink while he is deep in thought. He sighs lightly: “Why?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why did you visit all my matches?”

She turns to him, strands of hair falling into her face: “Well, maybe I’m a big fan of the sport.”

“Why did you visit all my matches and ONLY mine?”

“Maybe I’m a big fan of you then.”

Stefanos doesn’t know what to think: the woman was clearly flirting with him, and he knows he shouldn’t be so excited about it. Everything Petros had ever said about her runs through his mind. He shakes his head and tries to give his voice a serious sound: “Why?”

“Why not?”

She doesn’t want to talk about it and Stefanos realises he has no chance to change this, so he switched the tactic: “Any chances I’ll see you again?”

“Do you want to see me again?”

“Well, I won all the tournaments you visited”, he licks his lips, tries to calm his pounding heart, “…so, it seems like you are a lucky charm.”

The woman seems surprised, she chuckles softly: “A lucky charm?”

“Yeah, you should visit more of my matches and tournaments! Wimbledon for example.”

She still smiles at him but slowly shakes her head: “I’m afraid I can’t…I have to go back home.”, her hair gleams in the light of the lamps behind the bar.

Stefanos feels disappointment rising in him, but he does not want to admit defeat so easily: “Where are you from?”

“New York”

“So, if I get you tickets to my matches at the US Open, would you come?”

They look each other squarely in the eye.

“The US Open it is then”, her hand strokes his forearm as she raises from the bar chair, “Goodbye Stefanos! Can’t wait to see you win again!”

He doesn’t want to accept that this was already the end of their conversation – or whatever this was. He calls after her and points at this wrist: “Wait! You forget your necklace.”

She closes the distance between them again, now standing right in front of him - she has small, barely visible freckles. She smiles at him: “I changed my mind: you should keep it. Maybe it can be another lucky charm for you.”

She leans forward and kisses him on the right cheek. Stefanos feels his face heat up.

Just as she is about to turn away to leave again, he holds her back: “Thank you…but one last thing: What’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

Stefanos knows that he will count the days till the beginning of the US Open.

And he knows he will be dreaming of her.

And maybe Petros is right: She is trouble. But she is worth it.

[game-set-canet]

can i get a tsitsipas x reader imagine? like he makes the finals of a slam and shes there for him

The winner takes it all

Pairing: Stefanos Tsitsipas x f!reader

Summary: Stefanos wins his first Grand Slam final, everyone is extremely happy, and at some point you two are finally alone for a short time.

category: fluff

warnings: none (some hints of sexual activities)

Author’s Note: this the first EVER “x reader” imagine I wrote, so I hope it isn’t that bad? 😅 I really tried my best & I hope you like it! Also: pls note that English isn’t my first language! (and maybe my ambition outweighed my talent 😂)

MY M A S T E R L I S T

(not my gif! credits to the owner/creator!)

♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ -

"Game, Set, Match Tsitsipas!"

Everyone in the player-box was crying. Elisavet hugged you tight, she whispered something in Greek, but you didn't understand her. All you can think of was the match point. He really did it, he won his first ever Grand Slam. Through a veil of tears, you saw Stefanos staggering across the clay court, his expression was a mixture of joy, disbelief, and relief. The crowed was sheering, screaming his name while Stefanos finally reached his team, Apostolos was the first to embrace him.

After letting go of his father, he looked at you. You took a step forward and reached out for him, cupping his face between your hands: "You did it.", your voice sounded broken, tears of joy ran down your cheeks and your fingers trembled as they stroked through his sweaty hair, “You really did it.” Stefanos smiled a little, tired from the four-hour final, overwhelmed by the victory of his first final without really realizing it. With a tug, he pulled you close, wrapped his arms around you and buried his face in the crook of your neck: "I love you."

You closed your eyes, forgetting the cheering crowd around you, you hugged him tightly, pressing a quick kiss to his jawline. You wanted to do so much more, kiss him properly, tell him how proud you are of him, how much he deserved this win, how much you loved him, but this wasn’t the place for that. Slowly you let go of him, gave him one last bright, proud smile before his brother also pulled him into a big hug.  

*** *** *** ***

Later this day after the ceremony, the press conference, the first celebration with the whole team you finally got time just for the two of you. You weren't sure which room it was that you pulled Stef into to finally be alone with him.

But as soon as you had closed the door behind your boyfriend, he pulled you into his arms. You buried your face in his shirt, wrapped your arms around his hips - you stood there in silence for a few seconds before Stefanos broke the silence: "It’s done.”, he only whispered, his voice still sounding incredulous.

“You won your first Grand Slam!”, you put your head back to look directly at him, still hugging him, “You did it.”

Stefanos smirked slightly and tilting his head, your faces now only inches apart: "No. We did it...without you, I could never have done it." You felt a lump in your throat, you didn’t know what to say, so you crossed the last distance and laid your lips on his.

The kiss was gentle and soft - it said everything you both wanted to say at that moment but couldn't find the right words for. Your lips moved slowly against each other; he slid a hand down your neck to pull you even closer.

Your whole body seemed to tingle with joy, with pride about his tournament victory and about finally having him for you. No matter how often you kissed each other, Stefanos and the sensation of having him with you always made the butterflies in your stomach tango.

You broke the kiss for lack of oxygen and just looked at each other while you leaned your forehead against Stefanos'. "I love you." Your words were just a breath, but they brought a bright smile to Stefanos' lips, "I don't know what I did to deserve such a great girlfriend."

You returned his smile automatically, your undertone teasing as you replied: "Well, you won your first Grand Slam final a few hours ago, that's worth quite a bit."

Stefanos raised an eyebrow and a feigned shocked, disappointed expression settled on his features, "So you're with me just for the sake of success?", a playful smile slipped onto his lips in the end.

"Only because of that, Tsitsipas, you know that" you couldn't suppress a quiet laugh, you raised a hand and stroked a strand of hair that was hanging in Stefanos' face, "Because of your success and because you really do look so incredibly good on the pitch...like a true Greek god.”, you bit your lip as your eyes roamed over his face, down his neck, over his torso and your right hand slowly slid under his shirt, "A Greek God who won his first Grand Slam title and looked so stunning that sometimes I really forgot how important this match was today," your finger drew little circles on his skin, just above the waistband of his shorts.

Stefanos' dark eyes were fixed on you, "As much as I would like to continue this, because I really want to see where your hand in my shorts will take us, I'm afraid this isn't the right place to have our...private party," his voice sounded raspy, and his breath brushed hotly across your cheek.

Images of Stef and you (but with less clothes on) came into your mind's eye and you couldn’t stop yourself from sighing softly: "But you promise me we'll come back to our private party as you called it?" Stefanos' eyes sparkled with promise: "Wait until we are in the hotel room, then you will see that not only my tennis is on point today", his voice gave you goose bumps all over your body. 

"Is that a threat or a promise?" "Whatever you want it to be, love.”

The tension was shattered by a loud "plop" from the next room, the rest of the team had probably opened the next bottle of champagne. You both started laughing at the same time and you gave your boyfriend a questioning look: "How much did you drink already?" "Less than last time I played Rafa," Stefanos raised his shoulders and licked his lips, "You and I haven't even toasted my victory today together..."

"We should change that.", you smiled softly at Stef, reaching for his hand and squeezing it, "I'm so incredibly proud of you Stefanos. You deserve this victory so much. I’m so happy for you."

"Me too...," Stefanos murmured before placing a hand on your cheek and kissing you gently, "I love you, Y/N."

"I love you too, my Roland Garros winner!”

[game-set-canet]

The things I want to do

Pairing: Stefanos Tsitsipas x f!reader

Summary: Stefanos has been teasing you all day and now you want to show him that you of you can play this game and that you won't play fair either

category: teasing, sexual tension, happy couple

warnings: little bit smutish (+16) , teasing, sexual tension, hints of sexual activities

Author’s Note: first time writing this kind of imagine 🙈 the basic idea comes from song "Dirty Thoughts" by Chloe Adams

MY  M A S T E R L I S T

(not my photo! credits to the owner!)

♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦

God, you love Stefanos’ hair.

You’ve always loved Stefanos’ hair. You love to run your fingers through his golden locks and to play with some of the strands of his flashy golden hair when lying in bed together. You think that he looks so beautiful with his hair framing his handsome face. Nothing - really nothing - can compare with this.

And while you think he’s the most beautiful with his hair down things are completely different when he ties his hair together.

The first time you saw him with a ponytail, you nearly cocked on your drink and in that moment you realised: you have a thing for Stef’s hair tied up in a ponytail or a man bum. Although it’s not only “a thing”; it’s worse: It’s like the hottest and sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. Seeing him with his hair tied up gets you in the mood really fast – it turns you on like nothing else.

And Stefanos knows it.

*** *** *** *** ***

For several days it has been almost unbearably hot and although the hotel room has air conditioning, the heat is stifling. But the heat never stopped Stefanos from participating in different tennis tournaments and right now he was in the middle of the preparation for another tournament.

“Will you join me on the trainings court?”, Stefanos is packing his tennis bag, getting ready for his daily practice.

You’re sitting on the big couch, Notebook in front of you and working a seminar paper for university: “No.”

“Why not? Yesterday you didn’t come either…don’t like my tennis anymore?”

“I love your tennis and you know that.”, you look at him over the top of your notebook and can't help grinning, “But it’s so hot outside that I rather spend my morning here – in the cool – with an air conditioning.”

You know he loves it when you visit his practise, when you sit on the bench right next to the court and watch him play – sometimes he even manages to convince you to play a little Tennis with him.

Your boyfriend raises an eyebrow and pouts: “So I’m losing against an air conditioning?”

“Yeah, looks like it. Sorry Tsitsipas, you can’t compete with that.”, you answer dryly, your eyes already focused on the book in your lap.

Silence.

“Well…since it’s SO hot outside…do you have any ideas which could help me getting through this practise today?”, Stefanos is now standing right in front of the couch, looking down at you expectantly - you don't get what he's up to, but his eyes sparkle mischievously.

You sigh softly and close your book and give Stefanos all your attention.

Your boyfriend grins at you while he begins to list different things: “Maybe I should bring more water…and I might need another layer of sunscreen…maybe I should bring the tanktop instead of the normal T-Shirt?”, Stefanos suddenly stops in his movement, his face lights up:  “Or no! I know what might help!”

Before you can even ask what he means, he suddenly has a hair band in his hand and brushes his hair out of his face with routine movements. Your breath hitches and you swallow hard. He’s doing it on purpose! He knows what it does to you!

All you can do is staring at his ponytail: “I know what you’re trying to do!”

“Well…is it working?”, he still grins at you, obviously pleased with the reaction he gets from you. He even titles the head a bit so you could see the ponytail a bit better! Bastard!

“…yes.”

The next second you were on your feet and wrap your arms around his neck, your lips brushing his jaw line. All you want are his hands on you and to get him out of this awful trainings’ outfit.

He bends down to kiss you properly – it’s a very passionate kiss full of tongue, full of hunger - but he breaks the kiss way too early and steps aways from you: “Too bad! Since you won’t join me and visit my practise I’m afraid I can’t help you now.”, he has a smug grin on his face.

“Stef, no you can’t be serious!”

“I’m dead serious, my love! You decide you don’t want to watch my practise and I decide I gonna wear my hair in a ponytail today…we all make our decisions and must live with the consequences.”

You’re very close to begging. Begging him to repeat the kiss, to continue what you started. But you know him. It would be pointless. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He planned to do this; he loves seeing you this way. He knows what he’s doing to you.

You grind your teeth and try to quash the feeling in your lower belly: “You’re the devil!”

“Yeah, but I’m a devil with tied up hair and therefore you want to get rid of my clothes and drag me back into the bed”, he has a teasing smile on the lips, “Or at least on this couch.”

His words don’t help to shoo away your need and lust.

And of course he left for practise. With the ponytail.

He event sent you a photo from the court: Stefanos covered in sweat and with the ponytail.

This man will be the death of you.

*** *** *** *** ***

You swore revenge.

And just a few hours later you had the opportunity to do so.

Stefanos had practise in the morning, a physio session in the early afternoon and an interview later in the afternoon. Between the different appointments you kept meeting and Stefanos was teasing you all the time with your reaction back in the morning.

Which left you a little ashamed but mostly frustrated – sexual frustrated.

But as soon as Stefanos was out of the hotel room door for his interview a little plan was forming in your head.

*** *** *** *** ***

Some minutes later and some kilometres away at the Tennis facility Stefanos is getting ready for his interview.

They’ll start in about 15 minutes and Stefanos wanted to exchange a few words with the cameraman and inquire about his camera as he feels his smartphone vibrating in his pocket.

There’s a number of messages on his display, but one particular message catches his attention - it's from you: »How long will your interview take?«

Stefanos immediately replies: »About three hours. Why?«

»Because I have dirty thoughts about you, and they get worse since I’m without you…« your message makes his face heat up.

He’s a little surprised because this isn't like you, but he can't help typing an answer with little trembling fingers (while the first images are playing in his head): »What thoughts?«

He tries to take a deep breath, tries to get his mind straight but he’s failing as he reads your next text: »I won’t tell you. Just hurry up and get back in the hotel!« he swallows and brushes a strand of hair behind his right ear frantically - all the thoughts and images he had in his head now, he definitely shouldn't have them - this wasn't the right moment for that.

And even if he doesn't want to admit it, his pants are getting tighter at a certain place. He was teasing you all day and the truth was: he wanted nothing more than to turn the plan you had into reality.

A second message from you draws his attention back to the smartphone in his hand: »but I can tell you: it involves you, me, your pretty hair in a ponytail and less clothes. no. actually: no clothes.«

He tries to keep a straight face, trying not to show where his thoughts are (or where large part of his blood is flowing to): »I know what you’re trying to do«

»And I know it’s working«

Stefanos stares at your message and suppresses a curse while texting back: »How am I supposed to focus on an interview now?«

»That’s not my problem«

Stefanos knows that you want to provoke him and that you want to repay him for teasing you in the morning. But this wasn’t the right time for such things, so he takes it upon himself not to respond.

It turns out he doesn't have to, because you send another message: »You shouldn’t only worry about your interview, but also that I don’t get started without you«

Stefanos bites his lower lip to suppress a soft groan.

*** *** *** *** ***

Two hours later you get a new message from Stefanos: »I’m almost at the hotel«

A smirk settles on your lips as you answer: »I thought the interview was supposed to last three hours?« you know perfectly well that Stefanos won't fall for your innocent words after what you texted him right before his interview – but after this morning you wanted to show him that you of you can play this game and that you won't play fair either.

»Well, I did what you told me: I hurried!«

Just a few minutes later you hear the hotel room door being unlocked and a little later Stefanos is standing a few meters away from the couch.

“So?”, your boyfriends looks down at you, the face a little red from the heat outside and maybe because some certain thoughts he has.

“So?”, you echo him and raise your eyebrow – trying not to show him that you’re thinking of the exact same thing as he.

You look at each other.

The air is tense, you can almost see the sparks flying.

You sigh quietly and let yourself fall back on the couch until you're sprawled out without breaking the eye contact.

You see Stefanos swallow before he finally begins to speak – his voice’s a bit hoarse: “Soooo…what thoughts?”  

Your eyes are roaming over him: from his legs to his thighs, to his hips, to his broad shoulders, to the golden hair framing his face - he looks beautiful. But beauty isn’t what you want from him now.

You slowly bit your lip, looking at him from under the eyelashes: “I already texted you that I won’t tell you!”, you stretch out even further on the couch, arching your back while doing so - it's like an invitation.

And Stefanos understands it.

With two big steps he's right in front of the couch: “Alright!”, he pulls a hair band out of his pants pocket and ties his hair with a quick hand movement, “Then show me!”

God, you love Stefanos’ hair.