Historias de Taylorfritz

This fanfiction features tennis players Aryna Sabalenka/Lorenzo Sonego, Jannik Sinner/Mirra Andreeva, Elena Rybakina, Taylor Fritz, but you will also find other tennis players and members of their teams as secondary characters. The story begins with a prequel set at the 2025 Italian Open and continues from there. Being a fanfiction, the events are fictionalized, but I always try to get to know the protagonists deeply, as well as the events of their lives and the tournaments they participate in, to stay as true to reality as possible. Join me as I follow the adventures of their tennis careers and personal lives!

❝He is so worth making my brother mad.❞ In which Reagan Fritz finds herself falling for one of her brothers biggest competitors, Matteo Berrettini.

ACCEPTING REQUESTS Tennis Imagines + Preferences featuring: Jannik Sinner Carlos Alcaraz Jack Draper Taylor Fritz Ben Shelton Matteo Berrettini

They called her untouchable. Too polished. Too well-dressed. Too controlled. But no one ever asked Valentina Hadley-Rothschild if she wanted to be any of those things. She's an heiress by name, an actress by accident, a girlfriend by obligation. She's the kind of woman who looks perfect in photographs but forgets what her laugh sounds like when no one's listening. And she is in love. Or at least, she was. With Jack Draper, Britain's golden tennis prince. Their relationship is beautiful. Safe. Clean. Like white linen sheets tucked into a hotel bed. But beauty doesn't mean warmth. And safety isn't the same as being known. She's twenty-three and already exhausted. From pretending. From pleasing. From staying quiet when her heart wants to scream. And in that silent ache - somewhere between Monte Carlo and Madrid - she meets him.

This is a one shot about tennis player Taylor Fritz! Hope you enjoy it.

They say the court is sacred. Chalk lines like boundaries of belief. Silence before serve like prayer. But behind the curtains of the tour - past the applause, the press, the polished smiles - there are things that aren't written into rulebooks. Things that can't be coached, corrected, or calculated. Like the way his eyes followed her when he thought no one was looking. Like the way the other one smiled only when she walked into the room. Like the quiet between matches, charged like a storm waiting to strike. She wasn't supposed to matter. Not in the rankings. Not on the court. But she did. And no one wins when the heart breaks on a fault line.