#Jannik Sinner fic

[rvblos]

had a divine vision of jannik taking his shirt off at some point during a match but forgetting about the scratch marks left recently on his back by reader 😶

warnings: a bit suggestive

notes: BARKABEKAWOFOWOF

the match had been going on for almost three hours now and it never seemed to end. the heat of madrid was unbearable, so annoying that you wanted to tear your skin off. but you couldn’t. you were sitting in jannik’s box and you had been watching him the whole time, and even if the match was being so long, he didn’t seem to care.

but what he seemed to care about was the heat, it was ruining him. during a break he rushed to his bench and began rummaging inside his bag looking for a clean t-shirt to exchange with the one he was wearing. when he found it he smiled to himself, quickly getting off the one he had on and taking a towel from the bench to wipe the sweat off his torso.

suddenly all the cameras were on him, or rather, on his back, projecting the image onto the large screen above the spectators. you hadn't paid much attention to it until you heard giggles coming from behind you and, with a confused look, you looked at the image on the screen.

your boyfriend’s back was full of red marks and nail scratches. you cheeks turned red just at the thought of the night before, when you decided to give him the necessary strength to face his final, letting him fuck you until you couldn’t even breathe, marking his skin as he slipped in and out of you.

the flashbacks of the night before disconnected you from reality and you were brought back on earth when you heard vagno’s voice “you two had fun last night, huh? that’s why he’s playing so well.” he chuckled.

the crowd was going crazy, everyone was pointing and giggling at the image on the screen, still fixed on jannik’s back. he didn’t seem to care at all, he almost didn’t even notice.

when the match was over you were waiting him in the hall and as he came towards you with a smile on his lips he said “what was all that laughing about before?” after leaving a peck on your lips.

“it was about you back…” you hesitated, waiting for his answer. “my back? what about my ba-.” he was clueless, but as soon as he was reminded by your words he fell silent, chuckling to himself.

“that’s not funny!” you exclaimed. “even vagno noticed it, jannik! and he laughed too!” “i bet he wanted to be there with us.” he winked playfully at you, enjoying your reaction. “jannik!” you hit his shoulder, taking your face in your hands from embarrassment.

“don’t worry, baby. i’ll make it up to you.” he whispered in your ear as you walked out of the building. “gonna mark you up real good, so i won’t be the only one with scratches on his back…” his words were like honey, and you melt under his touch as he caressed your back slowly.

tag list: @xoxolovlies @pretty-hate-machineee @gogz-ee @yungbludz @rublito @2manytabsopen

[game-set-canet]

Hi how are U? I was wondering if, when you have time, could write something on jannik sinner x Italian reader where she's a normal girl living in a little town in northern italy( not jannik's town) and they're not public due to jannik wanting to keep his private life discrete. Well, he surprises her at her place and she introduces him to her family, which he hasn't meet it yet despite teyrebeing together for a while.

I know it's very specific, but I hope you don't mind.

Thank u 💓

The Perfect Surprise

Pairing: Jannik Sinner x f!reader

category: fluff

warnings: none

Author’s Note: it turned out way different than I intended 🙈 but i hope you like it, lovely anon 🤗

* Y/N = your name

MY MASTERLIST

(via Instagram @ janniksin)

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You miss him.

Last time you two saw each other was almost two months ago and although you know it’s the right decision to keep your relationship out of public it kinda hurts. Text messages, phone calls and video calls are just not enough.

You sigh and close the programs on your computer. Today’s workday dragged on even more than yesterday. And even though it's finally Friday, you can’t really enjoy getting off work early. In five hours, you're supposed to be at your grandparents' place, along with your parents and your two sisters - plus their boyfriends. Usually, you love spending time with your family, but seeing your sisters with their boyfriends makes you miss Jannik even more.

Jannik has been an important part of your life for almost a year now and every day you’re really grateful that you decided to take that trip to Rome for a few days of vacation a year ago. On the evening of the day you arrived, you decided to visit the Roman Forum and asked a young man to take a photo of you in front of the illuminated sight. Jannik said yes, and although the photo turned out to be amazing and the Roman Forum looked really impressive, you couldn't take your eyes off Jannik. You spent a lot of time together and the days ended with you and Jannik as a couple.

You’ve had long talks about how to handle it, and it was especially important for Jannik to keep your relationship private. It's the right decision, but it makes things difficult.

Yeah, you’d love to be by his side more often. Go to his tournaments and cheer for him. But most of all, you’d like to introduce him to your family and friends. Even though you've been together for almost a year now, there hasn’t really been a good opportunity for Jannik to meet your family - press events and injuries have gotten in the way so far.

“Have fun at your family dinner, Y/N,” your colleague waves at you with a smile, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Thanks, that’s nice of you!”, you wave back, pack your phone into your handbag, and leave the office quickly.

On one hand, it would be fun, but on the other hand, it would remind you that Jannik is missing. Your family knows you have a boyfriend and that he’s really busy, but they don’t know who he really is. Nicolò, your older sister’s boyfriend, would lean over to you with a grin again: “Are you sure your mysterious boyfriend is real? We’ve never seen him.” He doesn’t mean any harm, he’s just a jokester, but it still bothers you a lot.

Deep in thought, you push open the main entrance door of the office and step out onto the street. You work for a great company, right in your hometown. Since you know the way home by heart, you aren’t paying attention to your surroundings and jump in surprise when you suddenly hear someone calling your name.

You look up and suddenly think you must be hallucinating.

This can’t be real, it’s completely impossible.

"Jannik?" you ask, utterly confused as the tall young man with a bright smile walks towards you, "Is it really you?"

"Hi Y/N!" he beams at you, clearly amused by your disbelief.

"But...what...why...you’re supposed to be playing tennis!"

"Should I leave and go back to playing tennis?"

"NO!", you blurt out in shock, jumping towards him to hug him, "Oh my god, Jannik!"

The South Tyrolean laughs softly and wraps his arms around you too: "I’m glad my surprise worked!"

"Worked? I can’t believe it! Oh, I’m so happy!", you have to force yourself to let go of him - there are always curious eyes around.

Jannik looks at you with his bright eyes, his hands now in his pockets, his smile a bit forced: "I’ve got a few days off and came to see you as soon as I could."

You frown, "A few days off? Why?"

"My hip's acting up again..."

You feel your stomach tighten, "How bad is it?"

Jannik tilts his head from side to side, staring straight at the street. "Just bad enough to take a break from training."

That’s an understatement."

Your boyfriend presses his lips together and lowers his head: "Can’t we just be happy we get some time together?"

"Of course," you smile at him. You know how much Jannik’s recurring hip issues bother him, but this isn’t the right time or place to talk about it. When Jannik is ready to talk, you’ll be there. You’ll wrap your arms around him, rest your head on his shoulder, and he will tell you everything.

"I’d say we go home to my place and I cook us something nice...I went to the grocery store yesterday!" you suggest as you both start the short walk to your apartment. You resist the urge to reach for Jannik's hand and intertwine your fingers.

"That sounds like a great idea. Maybe we could try your grandma’s pasta sauce again? Last time we almost got it perfect and -"

Jannik's words make you stop in your tracks: "My grandma!", you exclaim, grimacing, "I still need to call my grandparents and parents to let them know I won't be coming to the family dinner!" You can already hear your grandma's disappointed words and see your dad's disapproving frown when you cancel.

Jannik looks at you curiously: "What family dinner?", he asks.

You let out a deep sigh: "My grandparents invited the whole family over for dinner tonight. I'll call and cancel as soon as we get home."

"But... aren't you excited about the family dinner?"

"Yeah, of course!", you nod immediately but then shrug, "But I'd rather spend time with you! I've missed you so much!"

Jannik doesn’t respond immediately, but you can see he’s deep in thought. After a few seconds, he finally speaks, his voice softer than usual. "We...we could go to your grandparents' together."

You think you’ve misheard and look at him in surprise. "What?"

A small smile appears on Jannik’s face. "I’d really like to meet your family, Y/N. I think it's long overdue."

Your entire family was, of course, absolutely thrilled with Jannik.

Later, your grandma would say: "Where have you been hiding this perfect son-in-law all this time?"

The family dinner went definitely differently than planned and so much better than you could have ever imagined.

Sitting among your family, laughing at one of your dad's terrible jokes, with Jannik's arm around your shoulders, was definitely the perfect evening.

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tagging: @bluetackbaby @lxndonorris @fedalev @purplecloudarcade

[latin5mamii]

Enjoy the silence -Jannik Sinner

|WARNINGS: None, just pure passion... |AUTHOR'S NOTE:Wrote this while listening to 'Enjoy the silence' by Depeche mode (Advice: listen to the song while reading!) do you like this new style of writing? Maybe adapting a song into a fiction?Please let me know!|SUMMARY:Silence is worth more than a thousand words...

The cool evening air brushed against your skin as you stood on the balcony, admiring the breathtaking view of the city below. The lights twinkled like stars, casting a soft glow over the skyline. You took a deep breath, savoring the tranquility of the moment.

Jannik joined you on the balcony, his presence comforting and reassuring. The two of you had escaped the chaos of the city for a weekend getaway, seeking solace in each other’s company. It had been a whirlwind of a year, filled with tournaments, travel, and the constant buzz of the media. But tonight, all of that felt far away.

"Lo sai," (You know,) murmured Jannik, breaking the peaceful silence between you, "a volte vorrei che potessimo rimanere così per sempre." (Sometimes I wish we could stay like this forever.)

You turned to him, a soft smile playing on your lips. "Anch'io," (Me too,) you admitted quietly, your eyes meeting his.

He reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. "Hai mai pensato a cosa ci riserva il futuro?" (Have you ever thought about what the future holds?)he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.

You squeezed his hand gently, pondering his question. "Penso," (I think,) you began slowly, "che finché saremo insieme, tutto si sistemerà." (that as long as we're together, everything will be okay.)

Jannik nodded thoughtfully, his gaze tender as he looked at you. "Anch'io ci credo," (I think that too)he murmured, pulling you closer into his embrace.

As the night wore on, the two of you savored each other's presence, finding comfort and joy in the simplicity of being together. There were no grand gestures or elaborate plans, just the quiet intimacy that spoke volumes about your love.

Hours passed like minutes, and soon the first light of dawn began to paint the sky in hues of pink and gold. Jannik leaned in, pressing a soft kiss against your forehead.

"Enjoy the silence," he whispered, his voice filled with warmth and love.

You smiled against his chest, feeling a surge of happiness swell within you. "Always," you replied softly, knowing that in moments like this, words were unnecessary.

And as you stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, watching the sunrise paint the world in colors anew, you realized that sometimes, the most profound moments were the ones shared in silence, where love spoke louder than words ever could.

The weekend passed in a blissful blur of shared moments—lazy mornings in bed, exploring quaint cafes, and quiet evenings watching the sunset. Each moment only solidified the bond between you and Jannik, reinforcing the unspoken understanding and deep affection you held for each other.

On the final evening of your getaway, you found yourselves back on the balcony, the city lights twinkling below once more. There was a sense of contentment in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the beauty of the time you had spent together.

Jannik wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. "Ti amo," (I love you)he whispered softly, his breath tickling your ear.

You felt a rush of warmth spread through you at his words. "Anch'io ti amo," (I love you too) you confessed, turning to face him.

His eyes searched yours, a tender smile playing on his lips. "Sicura?" (You do?)he asked, as if needing to hear it again.

"Si," you affirmed, your voice filled with certainty. "Ti amo" (I love you.)

Jannik's smile widened, his eyes sparkling with happiness. Without another word, he pulled you into a deep kiss, pouring all the love and passion he felt into the embrace.

As you melted into each other, the world faded away, leaving only the two of you in a moment of pure connection and love. The city continued to buzz below, unaware of the profound moment unfolding high above its streets.

In that moment, as you held each other close under the starlit sky, you knew that whatever the future held, as long as you were together, you would always find solace and happiness in each other's arms.

[lifeofpriya]

Jannik teaching reader to play tennis and reader getting hurt

you got it! 🫡

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wc: 3.6k

"You'll go easy on me, right?" you ask, a hopeful smile playing on your lips as you grip the tennis racket for the first time.

Jannik laughs gently. "Of course," he says, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "But I won't let you win just because you're a beginner."

The sun is setting, casting a warm glow on the clay court. You feel the roughness of the surface under your sneakers as you shuffle to the baseline. Jannik stands on the opposite side, the net between you like a bridge to a new experience. His forehand is swift and precise, the ball shooting towards you with surprising speed. You flinch, and the racket makes a clumsy swipe at the air. The ball sails past you and thuds against the fence.

"Good try," Jannik calls out, retrieving the ball. "Keep your eye on it, and don't be afraid to swing."

You nod, determination setting in as he tosses the ball back to you. This time, you manage to make contact with a satisfying 'thwack'. The ball arcs over the net and lands just inside the service box. Jannik's smile widens as he trots to the ball, his footwork as elegant as a dancer's. His return is a challenge, a backhand slice that makes the ball dip and skid across the court. You lunge for it, your heart racing as your body stretches to its limits. The impact vibrates through the racket and into your arm, but you're grinning.

For the next hour, the rhythm of the game settles into a comfortable back-and-forth. The occasional thud of the ball against the racket strings, the soft scuffle of your sneakers on the clay, and the rustle of leaves in the nearby trees create a symphony that mingles with your laughter and Jannik's patient instructions. You're learning to anticipate his moves, to watch the ball's trajectory, and to trust your instincts.

"Oh, shoot, errant ball," Jannik says, his eyes darting towards the ball that was in the air before it nosedived to the ground. "Get out of the way!"

You tried to run, but you could hear something in your ankle pop as you twisted to avoid the wayward shot. Pain shoots up your leg, and you crumble to the ground, gasping.

Jannik is beside you in an instant, his eyes filled with concern. "Are you okay?" he asks, gently taking the racket from your hand and setting it aside.

You wince, trying to sit up. "I… I think I twisted my ankle," you reply, your voice tight with pain.

Jannik's expression morphs from concern to guilt. "Let me see," he says, carefully taking your leg in his hands. His touch is gentle, but the pressure makes you wince even more. "It's definitely swelling." He looks around for help, but the court is deserted. "We need to get some ice on this. Stay put, I'll grab some from the clubhouse."

While you wait, the pain in your ankle throbs in time with your heartbeat. The setting sun casts long shadows across the court, and the air cools, carrying the scent of clay. You lean back on your elbows, watching the clouds turn shades of pink and purple. The serenity of the moment is a stark contrast to the turmoil in your body.

Jannik returns, out of breath, holding a bag of ice wrapped in a towel. He kneels beside you, his eyes scanning your face for signs of distress. "Here," he says, gently pressing the cold compress to your swollen ankle. "This should help."

The chill bites at your skin, but the pain slowly recedes. You sigh with relief, looking up at him. "Thanks," you murmur.

Jannik nods, his gaze lingering on the injury. "We should get you home," he says, his voice tight. "Do you think you can stand?"

You bite your lip, trying to ignore the pain. "I'll try." With his arm around your waist, you attempt to stand. Your ankle wobbles, and a sharp pain shoots up your leg. You gasp, leaning heavily on Jannik.

"Easy," he whispers, his hand steadying you. "Let's sit for a moment." He helps you back down, his grip on you firm but gentle. The ice feels good against your ankle, the cold numbing the ache.

As you sit there, the setting sun painting the sky with streaks of gold, you can't help but feel a twinge of sadness. Your first tennis lesson with Jannik, and it had to end like this. You'd been looking forward to this for weeks, ever since he mentioned he could teach you. You'd imagined the joy of finally understanding the sport he loves so much, the thrill of a well-placed shot, the satisfaction of improving under his tutelage. Instead, you're nursing an injury.

Jannik's eyes are filled with a mix of worry and regret. He opens his mouth to speak, then closes it again, as if unsure of what to say. "I'm sorry," he finally manages, his voice thick with genuine concern. "I didn't mean for this to happen."

You shake your head, trying to lighten the mood. "It's not your fault," you reply, wincing as you attempt a smile. "I should have been more careful."

Jannik sighs, his grip on your shoulder tightening. "I should have been more observant, made sure you weren't overdoing it."

You look into his eyes, seeing the truth behind his words. He cares about you, and the guilt etched on his face is clear. "It's alright," you repeat, trying to reassure him. "It's just a sprain."

He nods, though you can tell he's not entirely convinced. "Let's get you to the doctor's," he says firmly, helping you to your feet again. This time, you manage to stand with less pain, though your ankle still throbs with each step. Jannik supports you as you hobble towards the edge of the court, his arm around your waist like a warm embrace.

The walk to the car feels like an eternity, the gravel path digging into your good foot with each step. You lean heavily on Jannik; his solid presence is a comfort. His car is parked in the shade of a large oak tree, the leaves casting dappled shadows on the hood. You lower yourself into the passenger seat with a sigh of relief, the cool leather a stark contrast to the warmth of your flushed skin.

Jannik starts the engine, and the car hums to life. He glances at you, his eyes full of apology. "I'll take you to the nearest clinic," he says, his voice tinged with regret. "They'll know what to do."

The drive is silent except for the soft murmur of the radio playing low in the background. You can feel the tension coiled in his muscles as he grips the steering wheel, his knuckles white. The scenery outside the window is a blur of green and brown, the world moving too fast for the pain in your ankle. The air in the car is thick with the scent of your combined sweat and the lingering smell of freshly cut grass from the court.

When you arrive at the clinic, Jannik helps you out of the car and into the cool, sterile waiting room. You're grateful for his support, his arm around your waist as you limp to the reception desk.

The nurse's eyes widen when she sees your ankle. "Let's get you right in," she says, her voice filled with empathy.

Jannik insists on staying with you, his hand squeezing yours tightly as the doctor examines your ankle. The doctor's face remains neutral as he palpates the swollen area, but you can't help but notice the furrow in his brow. "We'll need to do an MRI to rule out any serious damage," he says, his voice calm but authoritative.

Jannik's grip tightens. "I'll stay with you," he murmurs, his eyes never leaving yours.

You nod, trying to keep the fear at bay. The thought of being alone in this unfamiliar place is almost as daunting as the pain. The nurse wheels in a chair, and you sink into it gratefully, the plastic cold against the back of your legs. Jannik follows, his eyes never leaving your face, his hand still wrapped around yours.

The MRI machine is a white, monolithic beast that hums to life as you're wheeled closer. The nurse gives you a reassuring smile and helps you onto the narrow bed. "Just try to relax," she says, placing a pillow under your head. The coldness of the metal sends a shiver down your spine as you lay your ankle on the soft cushion.

Jannik is standing on the other side of the glass, watching as you're slid into the MRI machine. His eyes are fixed on you, a silent promise of support. The nurse gives you a pair of earplugs to muffle the loud noise that's about to fill the room. You nod to him, trying to convey your thanks and bravery in a single look.

The world outside the MRI tube fades away as the machine starts its rhythmic clanging. You close your eyes and focus on the sound of Jannik's voice, the steady beat of his footsteps as he paces outside. The noise is overwhelming, a cacophony that fills your head, but you cling to the knowledge that he's there, that you're not alone in this.

When the MRI is over, the nurse helps you out of the tube with a gentle smile. "You did great," she says, as if you've just conquered a fearsome beast. You manage a small laugh, the pain in your ankle a dull throb now.

Jannik is there, waiting, his eyes scanning you for any sign of distress. "How was it?" he asks, his voice filled with genuine concern.

You offer a weak smile, trying to shrug off the discomfort. "Loud," you reply. "But I've had worse."

The doctor returns with the results, his expression unreadable. Jannik's grip on your hand tightens as the doctor speaks, his words a blur of medical jargon that you struggle to process. You catch phrases like "ruptured ankle ligament" and "surgery may be required." The room feels like it's closing in, the air thick with the weight of the news.

Jannik's eyes widen, the color draining from his face. "Surgery?" he echoes, his voice hitching. The doctor nods solemnly, explaining that it's not a simple sprain, but a more severe injury that could potentially keep you off your feet for months. Your stomach drops, the reality of the situation setting in.

You try to pull your hand away to wipe the tears that have started to form, but Jannik holds on tight, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand. "It's okay," he whispers, his voice soothing despite the panic in his eyes. "We'll get through this together."

The doctor continues to speak, his voice a gentle drone in the background. You nod, trying to focus on his words, but the pain and the fear are too overwhelming. Jannik steps in, asking questions you can't form, his voice calm and composed. He scribbles notes on a pad of paper, nodding intently at the doctor's instructions.

Once you're back in the car, the reality of the situation starts to sink in. "Surgery," you murmur, the word feeling heavy on your tongue.

Jannik's eyes meet yours in the rearview mirror, a mix of sympathy and determination. "We'll figure it out," he says, his voice firm. "You're not alone in this."

The drive home is quiet, the gravity of the situation weighing heavy in the air. You lean your head against the cool window, watching the scenery pass by in a blur. The sun has fully set now, leaving only the twinkling streetlights to guide the way. The world outside feels distant, as if you're trapped in a bubble of pain and uncertainty.

When you reach your apartment, Jannik insists on helping you inside. Each step up the stairs feels like climbing a mountain, but his presence beside you makes it bearable. He opens the door and the warm light spills out, welcoming you home. You manage to hobble to the couch, the weight of the day crashing down on you.

Jannik moves around the room, bringing you a pillow and a blanket, his movements swift and sure. He grabs an ice pack from the freezer and carefully wraps it around your ankle, securing it with an ace bandage. The coolness is a relief, but it does little to soothe the ache in your heart. You watch him, his every action filled with care, and wonder how you got so lucky to have someone like him in your life.

"Rest," he says, his hand brushing your cheek. "I'll be right here."

You nod, your eyes drooping with exhaustion. The pain has dulled into a constant throb, but the fear of what's to come is like a storm cloud hovering over you. Jannik sits on the arm of the couch, his gaze never leaving you. You can feel the warmth of his leg against yours, the steady beat of his heart.

He opens his mouth to say something, but the silence stretches out between you, filled with unspoken words. Instead, he takes your hand in his, the warmth of his palm seeping into your skin. His thumb traces a comforting pattern, grounding you in the present. You look up at him, and in the soft light of your living room, you see the concern etched on his face.

"Thank you," you murmur, your voice hoarse. "For everything."

Jannik's eyes searched yours, his thumb still tracing patterns on the back of your hand. "Of course," he said softly. "I'll always be here for you."

The days that followed were a blur of doctor's appointments, physical therapy, and endless hours on the couch with your ankle elevated. Jannik was a constant presence, fetching ice packs, making meals, and even helping you to the bathroom when the pain was at its peak. He never complained, never showed a hint of frustration, even when you snapped at him in pain. His patience was a balm to your soul, a gentle reminder that you weren't facing this alone.

One evening, after a particularly grueling session of therapy, you sit on the couch, your eyes glazed over with pain and fatigue. The TV drones on in the background, but neither of you are watching. Jannik sits next to you, his hand resting on your leg just above the cast. The weight of his touch is reassuring, a silent promise that he won't leave you to face the storm alone.

"Hey," he says gently, his voice cutting through the haze. "You okay?"

You nod, your eyes still fixed on the TV screen. "Yeah, I just… I'm tired."

Jannik's gaze is warm and understanding. "It's a lot to take in," he says. "But you're doing great. You're stronger than you think."

You look down at your cast, feeling a mix of anger and despair. "I just wanted to play tennis with you," you murmur.

Jannik squeezes your leg gently. "And you will," he says with conviction. "We'll get through this. Together."

You give a small, tired smile, feeling a flicker of hope. The days pass by, marked by the steady tick of the clock and the monotony of your routine. The pain begins to subside, replaced by a restless itch to move, to do something other than sit and watch the world go by.

Jannik senses your frustration and tries to distract you with stories of his matches, his travels, his dreams for the future. His tales are vivid, painted with a richness that transports you to far-off courts and grand arenas. You find yourself smiling, lost in his world of athletic prowess and passion for the sport.

As the weeks turn into months, your ankle slowly heals. The cast is replaced with a brace, and you begin to tentatively put weight on it again. Each step is a victory, a testament to your perseverance and the relentless care Jannik has provided. You start to regain your strength, doing simple exercises under the guidance of your physical therapist.

One sunny afternoon, you're sitting on the edge of the couch, the brace off for a few hours of freedom. Jannik comes in from a training session, his hair damp with sweat and his cheeks flushed from the exertion. He sees you and his smile falters for a moment, his eyes flicking to your bare ankle.

"How does it feel?" he asks, his voice a mix of hope and trepidation.

You test your ankle gently, rolling it from side to side. "It's… better," you admit. "I can actually wiggle my toes without wanting to scream."

Jannik's smile brightens, and he sits beside you, his eyes never leaving your ankle. "That's good," he says, his voice filled with relief. "Really good."

You look up at him, feeling a wave of gratitude. "I couldn't have done it without you," you say, your voice sincere.

Jannik's eyes meet yours, his expression a mix of pride and something more profound. "You've been so strong," he says, his voice gentle. "I'm just here to support you."

You nod, feeling the weight of his words. "But you've done more than that," you reply. "You've been my rock."

Jannik's cheeks color slightly, and he ducks his head. "It's nothing," he murmurs, but you know he's pleased.

The following days are a mix of excitement and nerves as you start to put more weight on your ankle. The brace feels like a part of you now, a constant reminder of the journey you've been on.

Jannik's training intensifies as the next Grand Slam approaches. You watch him from the sidelines, his focus and determination a stark contrast to the pain you're feeling. But every time he glances over, his eyes light up, and you know you're his source of strength too.

On the day of his quarterfinal match, you're dressed in your favorite outfit, the one that brings him luck, according to his superstitious beliefs. The stadium is a cacophony of cheers and applause, the energy palpable as he takes the court. You hold your breath with each serve, your heart racing with every volley. His opponent is formidable, a seasoned player with a reputation for his aggressive style.

Jannik glances at you, giving you a quick nod of acknowledgment before the game begins. You watch as the two men become a blur of motion, the white lines of the court disappearing beneath their sneakers. The thwack of the ball, the grunts of exertion, the squeak of shoes on the court - it's a symphony of power and precision. Each point is a battle, each set a war.

As the match progresses, you can see the strain on Jannik's face, the beads of sweat on his brow. He fights with everything he has, pushing through fatigue and pain. And with every victory, he looks at you, his eyes speaking volumes. You're his anchor, his reason to keep going. You cheer louder, willing him to win, feeling a strange kinship in your shared struggle to overcome your limitations.

The match is tight, each point a nail-biter. Jannik's opponent is relentless, but so is he. The crowd roars, their energy swirling around the court like a tornado. You grip the armrests of your chair, your knuckles white, your heart in your throat. This isn't just about tennis anymore; it's about the human spirit, about fighting for what you love despite the odds.

Jannik wins a particularly grueling point and the crowd erupts. He turns to you, his eyes alight with triumph. He raises his racket in a salute, a silent 'Thank you' that echoes through the stadium. In that moment, you know you've given him something more than just luck. You've given him the belief that you're both capable of overcoming adversity, together.

The final set is a nail-biter, each point more tense than the last. Jannik's opponent is formidable, but so is your resilience. With every grunt and swing, Jannik seems to be playing not just for the match but for you, for the bond that has grown between you through this trying time.

As the score reaches match point, the tension in the stadium is so thick it could be cut with a knife. Jannik serves, his eyes never leaving the ball as it arcs through the air. The opponent returns with a powerful forehand, but Jannik is ready, his backhand slicing through the air with surgical precision. The ball kisses the line and bounces back. The opponent scrambles, but it's too late.

Jannik wins the match, the crowd erupts into a cacophony of cheers. He drops his racket, his face a mask of disbelief and elation. You watch him, your heart swelling with pride. The pain in your ankle forgotten, you stand up, clapping and screaming his name. He looks over, his eyes finding yours in the sea of faces, and a grin spreads across his face. He jogs over to the sidelines, scooping you into a gentle embrace.

The press swarms around, flashbulbs popping like a storm of lightning. Jannik holds you close, his sweat-soaked shirt sticking to your skin. The questions come rapid-fire, but all you can do is cling to him, soaking in the moment. His heart beats against your chest, a steady rhythm that mirrors your own racing heart.

"How does it feel to win with your biggest supporter here?" a journalist shouts over the din.

Jannik pulls back, his eyes shining. "It means everything," he says, his gaze never leaving yours. "Having them here, watching me, it gives me strength."

You blush, feeling the weight of his words. He's been there for you through the pain and the healing, and now you've been able to return the favor in some small way. The journalist nods, scribbling notes in a frenzy. The noise of the stadium fades into the background as you stand there, caught in the bubble of Jannik's victory.

[schumi-nadal]

Carlos Alcaraz | Rolex Shanghai Masters 2024 🇨🇳

Look who’s at the final without playing it 👀

[alcqraz]

Do you think Carlos ever looks at the Sincaraz posts on social media, laughs at them, and then turns around to kiss Jannik.

[idksmtms]

Tennis Masterlist

A/N: Guys. I couldn't handle the deficit in fanfics about my fav tennis dudes so I had to do this. I had to. Requests for my tennis fics are OPEN so feel free to request whoever you want (from this list)!

Disclaimer: Though it is based off of real people, this is written purely for fictional purposes and for the sake of writing. No disrespect is intended to the real people portrayed/concerned in this scenario.

Carlos (Carlitos <3) Alcaraz

Request: Courtside - (Carlos Alcaraz x Actress!reader)

After gaining success from your latest movie, you are invited to watch the Wimbledon Men's Final 2023. You just so happen to be a certain player's favourite actress.

Request: Don't Be Nervous - (Carlos Alcaraz x reader)

Carlos is taking you home for the weekend to finally meet his family! It's totally normal to be nervous, right?

Jannik Sinner

Coming soon...

Holger Rune

Request: Just Like A Gentleman - (Holger Rune x reader)

Holger takes you out on a cute little dinner date!

Request: First Kiss - (Holger Rune x reader)

The first time you and Holger kiss!

Hubert Hurkacz

Coming soon...

Ben Shelton

Coming soon...

Jack Draper

Coming soon...

Others that I will only write for if requested!

[rvblos]

tipsy!jannik (hcs)

this one is specifically for @kuroppiii🎐

tipsy!jannik that just can’t stop babbling about how much he loves you and how lucky he is to have you in his life while you try your best not to laugh at his words, not to make fun of him but just because he can’t speak properly due to the alcohol.

tipsy!jannik that will BEG you to go and hit with him for a bit. “jannik you can’t even stand, i don’t think you’ll be able to take the racket in your hand.” and he’d just pout and give you the silent treatment.

tipsy!jannik that don’t usually drinks but when he gets the chance to he goes HARD on it, chugging every single bottle he finds.

tipsy!jannik that will take your hand in his to take you in a more private place just to look at the sky in silence while he stares at the stars and starts telling you how that one constellation reminds him of you and why (he’s such a UGHHH)

tipsy! jannik that will interrupt any conversation of yours to ask you for a kiss like a baby

tipsy!jannik that can’t stop laughing even at the smallest joke you make

tipsy!jannik whose cheeks turn of a bright red when he drinks, showing his freckles even more, making you want to kiss each one of them

tipsy!jannik that looks at you like you’re his whole world whenever he catches you talking with someone else from the tour

tipsy!jannik that will insist on going home earlier because he just needs you so bad and can’t wait until you get back home so the two of you manage to disappear in the bathroom for 15 min

tipsy!jannik king of sloppy drunk kisses yet always having his hands where they should be!

tag list: @rublito @yungbludz @gogz-ee @xoxolovlies @pretty-hate-machineee @2manytabsopen @carlosalcarazlefttoe @heyitsconysstuff @ithinkimokeei @kuroppiii @dilf-daniil

[game-set-canet]

hi!! i wasn’t sure if your asks are open or not, so please ignore this if they’re closed, or if you don’t like the request ofc

i would love a friends to lovers jannik sinner x reader, where they’re mixed doubles partners and after they win an important match they end up accidentally confessing to each other

thank you so much!! i would love to be tagged in any future tennis fics as well <3

Final feelings

Pairing: Jannik Sinner x f!reader

category: fluff

warnings: none

Author’s Note: it turned out way different than I intended 🙈 i had like 3 different drafts for the ''confessing to each other'' but the other two didn't feel right, so i hope it's this way 🤗💙

* Y/N = your name * Y/L/N = your last name

MY MASTERLIST

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

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

It’s not the first time that Jannik and you are playing mixed doubles at a tournament. But this is the first time you two made it to the semi-finals in a slam.

You still remember the wave of disbelief and joy that hit you when your opponents' return sailed out of the court, and it was clear that you and Jannik had reached the semi-finals of Roland Garros.

You still remember how you ran towards each other and hugged each other tight.

An Italian newspaper headlined "Two friends in the semi-finals of the French Open!".

friends.

You close your eyes and sigh: “friends” isn’t the right word to describe your relationship. It’s more than friendship. At least from your side.

From the other side of the court, you watch Jannik laughing at a joke from his physio and your heart grows heavy.

You would never dare to talk to him about your true feelings for him, you are too afraid to hurt this special bond between you, but at the same time you don't know how much longer you can handle this situation.

At first you were angry with yourself: Who falls in love with one of their friends?

But then again: How could someone not fall in love with Jannik?

You rub your face and try to banish the thoughts from your mind. It was hopeless. Jannik only sees you as a friend.

As you reach for your racket and slowly jog to your position to resume the practise session with Jannik and your coaches, you are too busy with yourself to notice the intense gaze and loving smile with which Jannik looks at you.

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

“Game, Set, Match, Sinner et Y/L/N”

You jump towards Jannik, both of you beaming with joy. You are hugging each other, jumping up and down in the rhythm of the chanting of your fans.

“We are in the finals!”, Jannik is almost shouting to down the cheering of the crowd, “Can you believe this?!”

No, you can’t. Both of you lost your single matches yesterday and you were insecure about today’s double match.

You never expected to reach the mixed double final in Roland Garros.

It’s your first ever final in a slam and now you will fight for the trophy together with Jannik. The thought sends shivers down your spine.

His arm is still around your shoulders, you feel the heat radiating from him.

You can’t take your eyes off the smile with which Jannik looks at the fans: he looks so happy.

So beautiful.

You want to kiss him.

Suddenly he turns his head and looks down at you.

His eyes pause at your forehead: “Wait, you have some clay in your face!”, he raises his right hand to brush the sand from your forehead with gentle, regular movements, “Let me remove it!”

Your cheeks heat up and you inevitably hold your breath.

Abruptly he looks you straight in the eye, his hand strokes down to your cheek and remains there for a moment.

You want to kiss him so bad.

But you won’t.

Your heart aches as you take a silent breath and step away from his touch. You walk over to the interviewer who is already waiting for the winner's interview.

You don’t see Jannik's sad look as you turn away from him.

The interviewer was very charming and didn’t ask the same boring questions as the other interviews here.

“Jannik, Y/N and you are an amazing team, and we know you two are great friends…we want to give you the chance to say something nice to your talented partner!”  

Jannik looks very surprised by this comment and bites his lip as he takes a deep breathe: “Well, you know, what can I say? I think I have the best possible partner. She saved those three match balls all by herself – I didn’t do much.”, everyone on the court and on the stands was laughing.

Technically he is right: you were the one who – somehow – returned every serve of your opponents.

“But as you said: She is very talented, definitely the best partner I can dream of -”he stumbles over his own words, his eyes widening as he realises what he just said, “when…on…for the tennis court!”

“Y/N”, he suddenly approaches you with your name, “I think I’m really lucky that you choose to play with me. Reaching my first ever slam final together with you is something very special.”, you feel that you are turning red because of his words – because you know he really means them – while he hesitates for a moment, “I think we are a perfect team: we complete each other and you understand me – even when I don’t know what I’m doing…I love you-”, his voice breaks, but in the next moment he continues to speak – faster, louder and more emphatically than before, his hands clawing into his shirt sleeves, trembling,  “love your playing style!”

Some fans are laughing, some are clapping but you can only stare at him: Did he just say “I love you”?

You feel dizzy and your field of vision is blurring – you need to hold on the microphone stand in front of you.

“No, of course he didn’t!”, an energetic voice taunts you in your head, “He just misspoke or mispronounced the words! He loves your playing style!"

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

Jannik’s and your teams and the two of you are sitting together in one of the lounges of the hotel. The atmosphere between you and Jannik was kinda tense. You haven't really talked to each other since the end of the interview.

“Jannik, I think we still need to work on your English!”, his physio laughs at the Italian, “Today’s interview was a bit…unlucky.”

Both of you turn red because of his words but it’s your coach who breaks the silents: “Why?”

His physio laughs even louder: “Because he misspoke and almost said ‘I love you’ in front of the whole crowd.”, his eyes are wandering back and forth between Jannik and you, “That was very embarrassing! I mean, just think about it!”

You wrap your arms around yourself and lower your head: Yes, it was probably truly ridiculous. You have always had self-doubt about the feeling of love. Or rather: whether someone would love you.

And even though you know that the physio doesn't really mean it, it's an inner voice that tells you that it would be really ridiculous to love you. Tears come to your eyes.

And Jannik notices it.

Jannik's thoughts are racing and before he can think it over he says in a trembling voice: “I didn’t misspeak.”

Suddenly everyone was dead silent.

After some minutes it was again his physio who mugs: “What?”

“I didn’t misspeak or mispronounced.”, Jannik avoids looking at you, instead he focuses on the ugly carpet in front of him, “I was a coward and got cold feet.”

Your mind was blank, it was difficult for you to form your question: “What do you mean with that?”

Seconds pass without Jannik showing any reaction.

Your coach jumps up from the couch: “Alright! Everybody out! I think, we should leave them alone!”, he nods to the door, “They have some things to talk about!” The other team members follow his example and leave the room slowly – some look at you curiously.  

Moments pass by but none of you says a thing.

After almost five minutes of silence, you gather all your courage and whisper: “Jannik?”

The Italian presses his lips together but quietly says: “I lied.”, he is pale and looks very nervous, “I don’t love your playing style.”, he glances at you from the side of his eyes, “I mean, yes, I love it but…that wasn’t what I wanted to say.”

You feel your heart pounding against your chest, and you are almost shaking as you ask: “And what do you wanted to say?”

Jannik turns his head to – finally – look you in the eyes: “I'm afraid to say it out loud. I'm afraid that if I say it out loud, I'll...”, he shakes his head and stands up, pacing up and down the room, “I'm afraid I'll destroy something.”

You stand in his way and reach for his hand: “You can’t destroy anything, Jannik.”, it hurts to say the next words aloud, “We will always be friends.”

Jannik clasps your hands and shakes his head: “But I don’t wanna be friends…I…I want…more… I think…it’s…you…”

Suddenly all fear was blown away. All the dark thoughts were gone and all you can think of was Jannik. Jannik how he is standing in front of you, stammering and clearly nervous.

You take his face between your hands: “I love you.” Jannik stares at you before he closes the last distance between you and puts his lips on yours.

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

tagging: @bluetackbaby @lxndonorris @fedalev

[undignifiedpopemobile]

chapter two in honor of the least real masters tournament ending soon. the world has progressed past the need for paris.

[lifeofpriya]

Reader and Jannik having opposite personalities and reader being insecure that he doesn’t like them

omg, i can't believe that we're getting very close to the end of the requests from jannik weekend 🥺😩

Just Be You

wc: 2.4k

Jannik is a force to be reckoned with on the tennis court, a whirlwind of power and precision that has earned him the admiration of many. Off the court, his personality is as vibrant and intense as his game. His laughter is a roaring fire that fills the room, and his passion for life is infectious.

You, on the other hand, are a quiet stream of thoughtfulness, preferring the solace of a good book to the chaos of the spotlight. You met Jannik through a mutual friend, who insisted you'd be perfect for each other.

The first time you saw him, your heart skipped a beat. He was all lean muscles and energy, a stark contrast to your slender frame and serene demeanor. As you talked, his eyes lit up with excitement at every little thing you said, making you feel like the most fascinating person in the world. Yet, there was something that crept at the back of your mind - the fear that he'd soon realize you weren't the exciting partner he needed.

Your dates were a whirlwind of adventure. He'd take you to the most happening spots, introduce you to his thrilling friends, and you'd smile, trying to keep up. Each time his hand would touch yours, sending an electric current through your body, you'd wonder if he felt the same jolts of excitement. You'd listen to his stories of triumph and defeat on the tennis courts, feeling your world expand with every word.

But, in the quiet moments, you'd catch him looking at you with an intensity that made your cheeks burn. It was as if he saw straight through to your soul, and you feared what he'd find there - the doubt, the inadequacy. You'd pull away, retreating into the safety of your own thoughts, only for him to gently bring you back with a soft smile or a question about your day. It was those moments that confused you the most.

One evening, after a particularly hectic day, you found yourself at his place, the two of you alone. His apartment was a testament to his life on the go, with trophies and sports gear scattered around the living room. The smell of his cologne, a blend of citrus and musk, filled the air, mingling with the scent of Italian takeout. You sat on the couch, your heart racing, as he approached you with a tired but genuine smile.

"You okay?" he asked, noticing the furrow in your brow.

You nodded, trying to push the insecurity aside. "Just tired," you lied, hoping it was a good enough excuse for your distant demeanor.

Jannik sat beside you, his athletic frame relaxing into the cushions. He studied you for a moment, the warmth of his gaze unwavering. "You know," he began, "you don't have to be like everyone else for me to like you."

You looked up, surprised by his perception. "What do you mean?"

Jannik leaned in, his hand finding yours. "I mean, you don't have to pretend to be outgoing or love the spotlight. I like you just the way you are."

You felt your chest tighten, the words a gentle balm to your weary heart. "But, what if I'm not enough?" you whispered, the insecurity bubbling to the surface.

Jannik's smile softened, his thumb brushing the back of your hand in a soothing motion. "You're more than enough. It's your calmness that grounds me, your quiet strength that intrigues me." He paused, his eyes searching yours. "You balance me out. Without you, my world would be all fire and no warmth."

You took a deep breath, letting his words wash over you like a gentle wave. The incessant voice in your head that whispered doubt grew quieter, the fear of not being enough slowly dissipating. You leaned into him, feeling the comfort of his embrace as you rested your head on his shoulder. The TV played a tennis match in the background, the rhythmic thwack of rackets punctuating the quiet conversation.

"I just don't want to hold you back," you murmured, eyes on the flickering screen.

Jannik chuckled, his grip on your hand tightening. "Hold me back? You're the one who keeps me from burning out. My life's a constant rush, and you…you're the peace in my storm."

You looked at him, the doubt in your eyes slowly giving way to understanding. His words were a gentle reminder that love didn't come in a one-size-fits-all package, that opposites didn't just attract; they complemented each other.

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "You make me want to slow down, to appreciate the little moments. Like this," he said, gesturing around the room with his free hand. "A quiet night in with someone who gets me."

You felt the weight of his words, the truth resonating deep within you. It was in the stillness that you found comfort, the spaces between the noise where you indeed saw each other. You looked at him, the intensity of his gaze making your heart flutter.

"But what if I can't keep up with your world?" you asked, the question lingering in the air like the scent of the rain outside.

Jannik turned to you, his eyes filled with sincerity. "You already do. You challenge me in ways no one else does, and that's what I love about us." His hand moved to your cheek, cupping it gently. "You make me question, you make me think, and you make me want to be a better person."

The rain outside grew heavier, the sound of it against the windows creating a soothing lullaby. You took a deep breath, inhaling the comforting scents of the takeout and his cologne. The warmth of his hand on your face was a stark contrast to the coolness of your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

"But, what about when you're traveling, playing in those big matches?" you said, the question lingering in the air. "Won't you miss having someone who can share that excitement with you?"

Jannik's eyes searched yours, understanding dawning. "I'll miss you," he admitted, "but it's not about having someone to share the spotlight with. It's about having you to come home to, someone who knows me beyond the tennis player." His voice was low, earnest. "When I'm out there, playing in front of thousands, all I can think about is coming back to you, to this." He motioned around the room, the chaos of his life made cozy by your presence.

You swallowed hard, his words resonating within you. "I'm just not sure how to be that person," you confessed, the insecurity resurfacing. "How do I fit into your world without losing myself?"

Jannik's smile grew softer. "You already fit. You just need to let go of the idea that you have to be like them." He nodded towards the TV, where the tennis players were locked in an intense rally. "You're my sanctuary, the person I can be myself around. You don't have to be loud or flashy. Just be you."

You took a deep breath, feeling the warmth of his hand on your cheek. The rain grew louder, a cocoon of sound around you. "Okay," you whispered, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. "I'll try."

Jannik leaned in and kissed you gently, his lips lingering on yours as if to seal the promise you'd just made. The kiss was filled with the same intensity you felt in his gaze, yet it was soft and comforting, a reminder that he saw you, all of you.

The weeks that followed brought a newfound ease to your relationship. You attended a few of his matches, watching from the sidelines as his racket sang against the ball, his focus unwavering. You weren't a part of the cheering crowd, but you were there, a silent presence that grounded him. He'd catch your eye between games, and you'd give him a small nod, a silent cheer of your own.

On the days he was home, you'd explore the quiet corners of the city together, finding joy in the simple things. He'd share stories from his travels, and you'd listen intently, offering insights from the books you'd read. You found that you didn't need to be loud to be heard, that your soft voice carried just as much weight in his world of noise.

One evening, as you walked hand in hand through a bustling street fair, the neon lights reflected off the puddles from the recent rain. The smell of fried dough and cotton candy filled the air, and the sound of laughter and music melded into a harmonious symphony. Jannik stopped at a carousel, watching the colorful horses bob up and down to the tune of an old Italian folk song.

"Remember when we first met?" he said, his voice a little louder to be heard over the din. "I knew you were different."

You looked at him, surprised. "Different? How?"

He smiled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "You didn't fawn over me or my tennis career. You talked about the book you were reading, and how the rain makes you feel alive."

You laughed, remembering the awkwardness of that first conversation. "I didn't know what to say," you admitted, feeling your cheeks warm with a blush.

"And that," Jannik said, pointing a finger at you, "is what made me want to know you more. You weren't like the others."

You felt a swell of warmth in your chest, his words a balm to your insecurities. "I guess I just didn't want to seem boring," you said with a slight shrug.

"Boring?" Jannik's laugh echoed through the night air. "You could never be boring to me. It's your uniqueness that makes you interesting, that makes us work."

You looked at him, his smile lighting up the damp street. It was in that moment, surrounded by the cacophony of the fair, that you honestly believed him. You weren't a burden or a liability in his fast-paced life; you were his haven.

The ferris wheel loomed over the street fair, its lights blinking a silent invitation. Jannik's eyes lit up with excitement, and before you could protest, he'd already bought two tickets. As the metal cage lifted you into the air, your stomach lurched with a mix of fear and exhilaration. You weren't one for heights or the chaotic spin of carnival rides, but the thrill in his eyes was contagious.

As the wheel reached its peak, the wind whipped through your hair, carrying with it the scent of the rain-soaked earth. The city lights twinkled like stars below, and for a brief moment, you forgot about your fears and the weight of the world. Jannik's hand found yours again, his grip firm and reassuring. "Look," he said, pointing out to the horizon where the city met the night sky.

You followed his gaze, the sight taking your breath away. "It's beautiful," you murmured, feeling a sense of awe that mirrored the first time you'd watched him play.

"It's nothing compared to you," Jannik replied, turning to face you, his eyes full of affection.

Your cheeks grew warmer, and you looked away, trying to hide your smile. The ferris wheel reached the top again, and the world spun beneath you, a blur of lights and sounds. You felt Jannik's hand squeeze yours reassuringly, and you squeezed back, finding comfort in his touch.

"You know," he said, his voice barely audible over the whir of the machinery, "I thought you'd hate this. But here we are, and you're still smiling."

You looked back at him, the wind playing with your hair, and laughed. "It's not so bad when I've got you to hold onto."

Jannik leaned in, his eyes searching yours. "I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like you weren't enough," he said, his voice earnest. "I just want you to know that you are. More than enough."

You felt a lump form in your throat, the wind carrying away the last of your doubt. "I'm sorry too," you whispered, your eyes misting up. "For not trusting that you could love someone like me."

Jannik pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you as the ferris wheel descended. "You don't need to apologize," he said, his voice as gentle as the evening breeze. "We all have our fears. It's what we do with them that matters."

As the ride came to an end, you stepped off, the ground feeling firm beneath your feet once again. Jannik took your hand and led you through the fair, the sound of your laughter mingling with the carousel music. You felt lighter, as if a heavy burden had been lifted.

At a quiet booth, you found refuge from the chaos. Jannik bought you a cup of hot chocolate, the warmth spreading through your cold hands as you held it. You watched as he devoured a stick of cotton candy, his eyes sparkling with the same delight as a child's. It was moments like these that made you realize how much you enjoyed the little things with him, the moments that didn't require grand gestures or loud proclamations.

"You got a little something there, Jan," you said with a smile, pointing to the smudge of pink sugar on his cheek.

He feigned ignorance, his teeth gleaming as he took another bite of the spun sugar. "What?" he asked, his eyes wide with innocence.

You leaned in, brushing the sticky residue away with your thumb. The intimacy of the gesture was not lost on either of you, and his cheeks flushed a shade darker than the cotton candy. "Got it," you said, popping the sugar from your thumb into your mouth.

Jannik's eyes searched yours for a beat longer than necessary, a silent conversation passing between you. It was in these moments, the mundane and the sweet, that you felt most connected to him. His world was full of flashing lights and grand gestures, but here, in the quiet booth, it was just the two of you, sharing a simple pleasure.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter and shared smiles. As you watched him win a stuffed animal at a ring toss game, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. He handed it to you with a flourish, his eyes gleaming with victory. It was a reminder of the tenderness that lay beneath his competitive exterior.

Walking home, the air was cool and damp, the rain having given way to a soft drizzle. The streetlights cast a warm glow on the wet cobblestone streets, and you felt a sense of belonging as you strolled beside him, his arm around your shoulders. His touch was familiar now, comforting in a way that made you feel seen and understood.

[fritzes]

Sincaraz // "Northern Attitude" by Noah Kahan

(story behind this one: I texted @advantage-sinner and I was like "I have to make an angsty sincaraz edit" and she was ready with like four songs including this one so thank you I literally can't get anything done without you lol)

[saragarnier]

Number One

Pairing: jannik sinner x leclerc! Reader

Summary: y/n is Charles Leclerc’s little sister and also Jannik Sinner’s girlfriend. She went to Jannik Final in Rome, when he has the opportunity to become Number One in the ATP rankings

Warnings: none I guess. Maybe just bad English since it’s not my first language

Fluff

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Being Charles Leclerc little sister wasn’t easy at all and you hated everything that was related to your brother’s fame or job. You loved him with all your heart but sometimes it was difficult being his sister, especially if everyone around you tries to be your friend just to have a chance to meet your brother.

At the same time, however, you were able to meet your current boyfriend thanks to your brother and you were grateful for that. When Charles invited you and your brothers to the Montecarlo Master 1000 final in 2024 you were excited, especially when Jannik Sinner won the semifinal.

You watched tennis since you were only six or seven years old, especially because your father and your brothers loved it. Even after your father’s death you kept watching tennis, maybe also because you wanted to feel him again, maybe because watching tennis helped you remembering him.

And that’s how you knew Jannik Sinner: you watched one of his game when he was still young but you knew that something was different about him, you knew that he would have become someone important one day.

When you met him after the final you were almost shaking and your brother Arthur didn’t help you neither: he embarrassed you even more, telling Jannik that you were his biggest fan.

You didn’t knew when you met him, nor did he. It just happened. It wasn’t planned at all.

You two met again some days after, and again and again till you started dating in secret. You both wanted to keep it a secret, to keep it private from all the fans, the journalists and the world: only your families and Jannik’s team knew about your relationship. You just wanted to live yourselves, you just wanted to know each other better before telling everyone that you were a couple. You still didn’t even admit that you loved each other when you decided to leave Imola and not to watch your brother’s race on 19th of May. It was race day for Charles but it was also Jannik’s match day and you perfectly knew that, if he would have won, he would’ve become first in the ATP rankings. And you couldn’t miss it.

You drove for hours and you were able to arrived just few minutes before the start of the match, when Jannik was still doing some warmup. He didn’t know you were there, he thought that you would have been at your brother’s race and he understood that, he wasn’t even mad at you when you told him that your brother invited you to his race. And then, that morning, Charles told you that you should have gone and that he wouldn’t have been angry with you.

You thanked him and you immediately left to reach Jannik in Rome.

You were able to enter thanks to his coach Cahill, that let you pass the security and found you a place near them, even if you didn’t want to be seen by Jannik.

“What do you mean, y/n? Why you didn’t want to be seen?” Asked his physiotherapist, Giacomo, looking at you with a confused look.

“I don’t want to distract him. He doesn’t know i’m here and there’s no time to tell him; he needs to stay focused on the game, especially today, especially when there’s being the number one in the rankings on the plate.”

They knew that you only wanted Jannik’s best and they agreed with you, that’s why Jannik didn’t know about you being there till the end of the match, when he reached his team on the stands after his victory.

At the beginning he didn’t see you, he just hugged his team, smiling, incredulous.

“Let’s go Jan!”

“Bravo!”

“Olé, Olé, Olé! Sinner! Sinner!”

The fans were crazy, they were screaming, singing and they were crying. Some kids were literally in tears, some fans were hugging each other screaming: “Sinner numero uno al mondo!” (“Sinner number one in the world!”)

It was the first time that an Italian reached the first place in the ATP rankings and Italians were going crazy, especially because he became number one in Rome, at home.

“Sei fantastico Jan! Ottimo lavoro!” Said Simone Vagnozzi, smiling at him. (“You’re amazing Jan! Good job!”)

He was too much shocked to notice you were just few feet away from him. You couldn’t stop smiling, especially watching him being so happy. He deserved all of this and even more.

Before he could see you, you stepped forward, smiling.

“So, do i have to call you champion from now on?” You whispered to his ear, gaining his full attention. He immediately wrapped his hands around your waist and he hugged you, smiling.

“Y/n! W-what… what are you doing here?!” He asked, smiling even more. “I thought you were at your brother’s race! When did you arrived here?”

You smiled, passing an hand through his hair and caressing him gently. You smiled, looking at him and feeling goosebumps under his touch.

“I couldn’t miss it, right? I wanted to be here with you and my brother understood. I arrived only few minutes before the start that’s why I didn’t tell you: I didn’t want to disturb you. I know how important it’s for you and i didn’t want to distract you.”

He was speechless: he wanted to thank you, to say something but he couldn’t. He wanted to say how he felt, he wanted to say that you were amazing and that he felt so fucking lucky to have you, but he couldn’t. He didn’t find the right words, that’s why he just kissed you.

You didn’t expect him to do that in front of everyone, in front of the fans, journalists and the tv. You knew that all the world was watching you two kissing, you knew that your secret was not a secret anymore after that kiss, but you didn’t mind. You just let him do it and you immediately kissed him back.

You loved him.

God, you loved him so much.

But you weren’t prepared for that, you weren’t prepared for what he told next. You couldn’t believe it, you just couldn’t.

“I love you, y/n.” He told you, whispering it while watching you in the eyes. He would have passed all the time there, kissing you and hugging you. There was no-one else in there except you. It was only you and him.

You didn’t know what to say or what to do, you loved him so much and you waited to hear that for weeks, but you couldn’t still believe it.

Was it true?

Was it real?

You immediately hugged him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and hiding your face on his chest.

“I love you too, my little champion” you whispered, smiling. “And I would kiss you all the time right now, but i think you should go now. I’ll wait here for you, okay?”

Jannik smiled and nodded, caressing your cheek gently.

“Okay babe, i will come back to you as soon as i can, okay?” He said, giving you one last kiss before going back on the court to be interviewed. You smiled at him and nodded, still looking at him from distance.

“I love you and i will always do.” You whispered to yourself, since he was way too far to hear you.

And when he raised the cup to the sky you just smiled seeing how happy he was, seeing the smile he had on his face, how emotional he looked in that moment.

Number one in the world.

Number one in your heart.

[bignoseluvr]

sapore di mare — a jannik sinner x jack draper fanfiction (alternative universe).

synopsis! jack draper, a young writer in desperate need of putting an end to his year-long writer's block, goes looking for the spark he's lost in an impromptu trip somewhere far from england. under strange circumstances and in a coastal village in northern italy he meets a charming and intriguing man called jannik sinner, a stranger turned companion, savior and muse.

read here.

[rvblos]

NNINAAA!! give me making out with glasses jannik and MY LIFE IS YOURSSS

making out with glasses!jannik (blurb)

warnings: making out (it gets a little suggestive)

notes: YES YES YES literally giggling and kicking my feet as i write this

it started like all the other times: he came back from training tired as ever, just wanting to wash all of his thoughts away from his mind.

just a small peck on his lips was enough to make him all flustered and needy, your lips on his made him shiver and moan in your mouth. “someone’s needy, huh?” you giggled as he blushed softly at your words.

“i just… need you.” he whispered. and it was so cute: his curls falling perfectly on his face, cheeks all red and his glasses were almost slipping off his nose. with a fast movement he put them in place.

“like this?” you asked with an innocent tone, making your way towards his lips. instinctively he parted his lips as an answer to your action, welcoming your tongue in his mouth. his hands gripping firmly your hips, squeezing your flesh as his life depended on it.

he let a small whimper out of his mouth as he felt your body move upon his, finding you on his lap straddling him. the noises he was making were so cute you giggled in the kiss, as he hummed against your lips.

you interrupted the kiss, searching for air, and you noticed that his glasses were falling off his nose. “should we take these off?” you smiled at him taking them in your hands. he nodded eagerly as he pushed your body against his chest, wanting to feel you as close as possible to him.

you placed them on the couch and said “these make you look so hot, baby.” you complimented him and he immediately blushed, looking away to not meet your gaze. you chuckled at his embarrassment, finding it cute.

“ti prego…” he murmured softly with a pleading voice, looking up at you with glassy eyes. he was irresistible.

he let his head fall back as you attacked his neck gently, leaving soft marks and traces of saliva behind. he grunted feeling your hand starting palming his through his pants, and bucked his hips to feel you as close as possible.

“calm down.” you hummed on his skin. “non ci riesco.” he managed to say between heavy breaths, eyes wide as never before.

and just like that he was at your mercy.

tag list: @pretty-hate-machineee @xoxolovlies

[game-set-canet]

Amazing to see your requests are open :) please may I have one with jealous Jannik! I don’t really have much context other than that… perhaps your relationship isn’t public so someone flirts with you at an event and he gets all puppy eyed sad? And you have to reassure him :(

I only see your face

Pairing: Jannik Sinner x f!reader

category: fluff

warnings: none

Author’s Note: it took me really long to write this because it honestly breaks my heart to think that Jannik gets sad 🙈 the imagine didn't work out the way I had planned it but i hope you like it, lovely anon 💕

* Y/N = your name

MY MASTERLIST

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

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The life of a tennis player is much more than playing matches and practicing every day. It also contains media work, photoshoots, sponsor events and doing things normal people don’t do. Like keeping your relationship a secret.

Jannik und you started dating three and a half months ago and you two are in a relationship for two months now. But your managers agreed that it would be strategically better to keep the relationship a secret: "We are currently looking for new sponsors, Y/N...it just works better if it looks like that you are concentrating completely and 100% on your career.”

Although you hate to admit it, your managers might be right: Apparently some people (and a lot of journalists) seem to think being in a relationship distracts you from playing tennis and no sponsor invests in distracted tennis players.

All these things mean that you had to go alone to the evening reception that the Italian sports federation organises for all tennis athletes. Usually you love events like this because they give you the opportunity to dress up and meet with all the other players off the tennis court.

You spend two hours getting ready for the evening: doing your make-up, dressing up in a wonderful dark green gown and a friend of you spend almost 30 minutes doing your hair.

You look amazing.

But you don’t feel like it.

Because you would prefer sweatpants, a messy hair bun and cuddling with Jannik on the ugly couch in your hotel room over this fancy evening event without Jannik.

Well, technically Jannik is here.

Looking really stunning in his dark blue suit. But since you are only allowed to look at him from distance and shouldn’t be near him, the evening will be anything but beautiful.

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

After the official welcome ceremony you find yourself in a conversation with Matteo Berrettini, discussing the upcoming French Open, when Lorenzo Musetti joins you.

Lorenzo nods at Matteo before he turns to you and smiles broadly at you: “Y/N, you look really breathtaking tonight! The colour of your dress really brings out your eyes!”

You blink in surprise and clear your throat: “Uhm, thank you, Lorenzo…”, you feel your face heat up, “That’s really - uhm - nice of you.”

You give Matteo a help-seeking look, but he only looks at the other player, puzzled.

Lorenzo doesn’t notice your embarrassment as he continues talking while he steps closer to you: “You caught my eye the moment you walked in the room!”

You try to recreate the distance between you and take a step back, but bump into the edge of the table behind you. You can’t think of a thing to say since you are too confused: Why is Lorenzo flirting with you?!

It’s Matteo who breaks the silence: “Alright, I have to go! I need to talk with Jannik about swapping practise courts tomorrow!”, he smiles at both of you, although he still looks very irritated.

You curse Matteo on the inside: Why is he leaving you here alone now?!

Lorenzo doesn’t seem to care. He doesn’t even pay attention at Matteo and just continues smiling at you.

“And I wanted to congratulate you on winning the tournament last week!”, he runs his fingers through his hair with an elegant gesture, “You played some incredible tennis – I watched all of your matches.”

From the corner of your eye you see Matteo approaching Jannik, talking to him while laughing before nodding in your direction.

You see how Jannik's facial expressions slip away as he stares at Lorenzo and you. At first he looked very confused and a bit angry but the moment Lorenzo winks at you all you can see in Jannik's face is sadness.

“I can’t wait for Roland Garros to start! It’s gonna be one hell of a tournament.”, suddenly Lorenzo steps in front of you, “And I’m sure you will play fantastic! You always do and-“

Although you can’t see Jannik anymore, your heart still aches because of the hurt expression on his face. Without thinking twice you interrupt Musetti: “Lorenzo, this is very nice of you but please stop it.” You try to give your words a sharp but polite undertone.

Lorenzo freezes and looks at you in shock: “I…okay, I’m sorry! I didn’t want to-” He is all red in the face and smiles insecurely.

“No, it’s not that…I mean, let’s forget it, okay? I-“, over his shoulder, you see Jannik leaving Matteo and walking through the crowd to the bar, you turn away from Lorenzo, calling back over your shoulder: “I have to go, I’m sorry!”

You don’t wait for Lorenzo to answer. You rush over to the bar while trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, you don’t want to attract too much attention.

“Hi!”, you almost whisper as you join Jannik at the bar.

His head snaps up, clearly surprised about you approaching him: “Hey Y/N”, he smiles at you – although you can still see the sadness in his eyes.

You close the distance between the two of you and lean against the bar, your shoulders are almost touching. You are hesitating for a moment before you take a deep breath and look at him: “Are you…is everything okay?”

Jannik closes his eyes for a moment, pressing his lips together: “Yeah, sure, why not?”

He tries to sound completely calm and collected, but you can hear he is hurt.

You hate seeing him like this. You hate how he tries to cover his feelings.

“You know why.”, slowly you reach for his hand and hook your little finger with his.

For a second Jannik just stares at your intertwined fingers before he starts shaking his head: “There is- it’s…we shouldn’t talk. We agreed on pretending not to be…you know.”, he pulls his hand away, although you can see that he hates it.

“Jannik, Musetti was just-”

Jannik quickly interrupts you: “I…it’s ok.”, he avoids looking at you.

“No, it’s not!”, you try to lean closer to him, to tilt your head to finally catch his gaze, “I can see that it’s not.”

Only a few centimetres separate you from each other now. All you want is to hug him and tell him how sorry you are for this whole situation, that you couldn’t careless that Lorenzo Musetti was flirting with you and that he is the only one for you. Jannik seems to

Jannik seems to notice that you want to say something, because he steps aside and gives you a quick look: “Y/N, not here!”

You sigh deeply: “Ok…”

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

You leave the event only ten minutes after Jannik left. It took you only 20 minutes to head back to the hotel, take the elevator and finally knock on Jannik’s hotel room door.

Jannik immediately answers the door, still in his suit – he only untied the tie, which now hangs loosely around his neck.

You just looked at each other for a few seconds before you step into the room and hug him tightly. Your boyfriend pushes the door with one hand, which quietly falls into the lock before he wraps his arms around you.

For a few minutes you just stand there, holding each other close without saying a word. You buried your face in Jannik’s chest - even though you know you'll get make-up stains on his shirt – while Jannik’s cheek is pressed against your head.

“I hated this evening!”, Jannik is hugging you even tighter now, “You look so wonderful tonight, but I wasn’t able to spend time with you at the event and I hated it so much!”, he presses a quick kiss on your hair, “Everyone looked at you and admired you and…and Lorenzo…he-“

You lift your head to look him in the eyes: “He was flirting with me, yes, but…but he didn’t-”, you place your hand on his cheek and stroke it with you thumb.

“I know, it’s ridiculous that I act like this. I’m sorry, Y/N.”, he smiles sadly and takes a deep breath, “But he wanted to ask you out on a date…I know him well enough to be sure of that!”

“And I would have said no!”

“I know that but…I hate it that he thought about it.”, suddenly his cheeks turn red, and he clears his throat before he continues quietly, “I mean…I don’t want others to…to th-think about you.”

“But you're the only one I'm thinking about!”, you reply, your voice louder than before, “Even if all the players in the whole ATP ranking would ask me out on a date, I'd only say yes to you!”

Jannik winces at the thought of that but nods a little: “I know, I know…” But he still seems to be insecure about the whole situation.

So, you take his head between your hands and say: “Jannik, look at me!”, you wait until you look each other straight in the eyes, “I mean it! There is no reason for you to be jealous of anyone!”

“I know, I know…”

“I love you, Jannik.”

Slowly a smile comes over his face and he bend down to kiss you lovingly: “I love you too, Y/N.”

After some time you break the kiss and hug each other instead. There is one thing that - in your eyes – still needs to be said: “And it’s definitely not ridiculous that you feel this way!”, Jannik grins sheepishly at your words, “I know, I would become jealous as well if someone would be flirting with you…”

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tagging: @bluetackbaby @lxndonorris @fedalev