#following in jannik's footsteps

[cocopufffss]

okay carlos alcaraz rotterdam 2025 winner!!

[lifeofpriya]

There for You - Jannik Sinner

[gif credit goes to @schumi-nadal]

summary: jannik needs a little boost to lift his spirits up...

You heard the door to the apartment in Monte Carlo click open, and the familiar sound of Jannik's footsteps echoed through the hallway. He was back from Doha, where he was due to take place in the Qatar Open before the news had hit that he was given a three-month suspension from professional tennis. You had been waiting anxiously, trying to think of ways to cheer him up, knowing the ban had crushed his spirits.

Jannik looked more defeated than you had ever seen him. The usual bounce in his step was replaced with a sluggish drag, his rackets left untouched in his bag, a symbol of his current misfortune. You watched as he tossed the bag aside and flopped onto the sofa, his shoulders slumping under the weight of the world.

You approached cautiously, unsure of how to begin. "Hey," you offered, trying to keep your voice light. "Rough trip?"

Jannik's gaze remained fixed on the floor, his eyes a mirror to his shattered dreams. He took a deep breath before finally looking up at you. "It's not just the trip," he said, the words heavy with disappointment. "It's everything."

You knew exactly what he meant. The suspension had come as a blow to both of you. You had been his rock through the training sessions, the endless hours of practice, the sweat, and the tears. But now, in the face of this setback, you weren't quite sure how to be there for him.

Tentatively, you sat down beside him, the soft leather of the sofa enveloping you both. You studied his profile, the sharp line of his nose, the furrow in his brow, the way his bottom lip curled slightly in a pout. He looked so much younger than his 23 years when he was like this.

"It's not the end of the world," you said, reaching for his hand. "It's just a setback. You're still Jannik Sinner, the tennis prodigy from the heart of the Dolomites."

He turned to you, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. "Thanks," he murmured, his Italian accent wrapping around the words like a warm embrace. "But it feels like it. I've been playing since I was a kid. It's all I know."

You nodded, understanding his pain. "I know," you said, squeezing his hand gently. "But this is a chance for you to rest, recover, and come back even stronger."

He sighed, his eyes searching yours for a glimmer of hope. You gave him a soft smile, an encouragement to believe in your words. You had prepared a surprise to take his mind off the suspension, something that would remind him of home and the joy that tennis brought to his life.

"Come with me," you said, tugging gently on his hand. He followed, curiosity lightening his mood slightly. You led him out of the apartment and into the vibrant streets of Monte Carlo. The scent of the sea mingled with the fragrance of blooming flowers from the nearby gardens, a stark contrast to the sterile hotel room where he'd just received the news.

You had spent hours planning this surprise, hoping it would be the perfect distraction. You had rented a small boat, something that was both a nod to the coastal charm of the city and a symbol of the freedom he was missing on the tennis courts.

The marina was a kaleidoscope of colors, with yachts and sailboats bobbing gently in the turquoise waters. The salty sea breeze kissed your cheeks as you led him to the dock. "What's this?" he asked, his eyes lighting up with curiosity.

"It's a surprise," you said, unable to contain your excitement. "A little adventure to help you take a break from all the stress." You pointed to a sleek, white boat with a navy-blue stripe. "I thought we could spend the day on the water."

Jannik's eyes widened in surprise, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Really?" he asked, the glimmer of hope growing stronger.

"Really," you assured him, guiding him towards the boat. "The sea, the sun, a little bit of adventure…it's the perfect way to clear your mind."

Jannik's smile grew wider, the tension in his body visibly easing. You helped him aboard the boat, the wood deck warm underfoot, and the gentle rocking motion as it kissed the water's surface was almost soothing. You had packed a picnic basket full of his favorite treats from the local market – fresh baguettes, cheese that smelled like heaven, and a bottle of wine from the vineyards that hugged the cliffs of nearby France.

Once onboard, you unfurled the sail, and the canvas caught the wind, billowing with a satisfying snap. The boat glided away from the dock, and the world of worries was slowly left behind. The horizon stretched before you, a canvas of blue and white, the sky a mirror to the sea.

Jannik's eyes searched the horizon, as if looking for answers in the vastness. You handed him a pair of sunglasses to shield his eyes from the glare, and he slipped them on, the transformation making him look like the suave sportsman he was. "Where are we going?" he asked, the first sign of excitement in his voice since the suspension.

"Somewhere special," you replied with a mysterious smile. "Just sit back and enjoy the ride."

The boat picked up speed as you steered it towards the open sea, the wind playing with your hair, and the spray of the water cooling your skin. Jannik leaned back, his eyes closed, his face tilted towards the sun. You couldn't help but admire his profile – the strong line of his jaw, the way his ginger curls framed his face, the relaxed set of his shoulders. It was moments like these that reminded you why you'd fallen for him, why you were willing to stand by him through thick and thin.

You navigated the boat to a secluded cove, a hidden gem you had discovered on one of your previous explorations. The water was a brilliant shade of blue, so clear you could see the fish darting through the coral below. You dropped anchor and pulled out the picnic basket, setting out the feast you had prepared.

Jannik watched you with curiosity, his eyes lingering on the array of food. "You really went all out," he said, a small smile playing on his lips.

"I wanted to make sure you had a taste of home," you replied, passing him a glass of wine. He took it, his fingers brushing against yours, sending a shiver down your spine. You watched as he took a sip, his eyes closing in appreciation.

The cove was serene, the only sounds the gentle lapping of waves against the boat and the distant calls of seagulls. You spread out a blanket on the sand, the fine grains warm between your toes. The setting was picture-perfect, the kind that graced the pages of glossy travel magazines. But it was the company that truly made the moment unforgettable.

Jannik picked at the food, his appetite slowly returning. He took a bite of the baguette, the crunch echoing in the quiet, and nodded in approval. "This is exactly what I needed," he said, his eyes meeting yours with a soft warmth. "Thank you."

You felt your chest tighten with relief and love. His smile was worth all the planning and worry. You watched him as he devoured the meal, the sun casting a golden glow across his skin. "So, tell me," you began, trying to keep the conversation light. "What was your favorite part of growing up in Sexten?"

Jannik's eyes lit up with memories. "The mountains," he said without hesitation. "The way they changed with the seasons. In the winter, the snow would make everything so quiet, and in the summer, the hikes and the fresh air…it was like a playground for me."

You nodded, having visited Sexten with him before. You knew the place was special to him, a stark contrast to the bustling energy of Monte Carlo. You had hoped that talking about his childhood would bring some peace to his troubled mind.

"Do you miss it?" you asked, passing him a slice of cheese.

Jannik paused, considering your question. "Sometimes," he said, his voice filled with a hint of longing. "But I also love the rush of the city, the sound of a tennis ball on the court, the competition."

You nodded, understanding his love for both worlds. "It's like you're a mountain lion in a city jungle," you said with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

Jannik chuckled, a sound that was music to your ears. "Maybe," he said, taking another sip of wine. "But I've learned to hunt here, too."

You both settled into a comfortable silence, letting the serenity of the cove soak into your bones. The sun was high in the sky now, casting a warm glow over everything. Jannik leaned back on his elbows, his eyes closed, and you couldn't help but admire the way his shirt clung to his muscular chest, a testament to the countless hours he had spent training.

As you packed up the picnic, you decided it was time for the second part of your surprise. You pulled out a small, wrapped package from the basket. "What's this?" he asked, his eyes opening to peer at you with curiosity.

"Open it," you said with a grin, watching as he tugged at the ribbon.

Jannik's eyes grew wide as he pulled out a handcrafted leather journal, the pages filled with your scribbled notes and sketches of his favorite tennis moments. Each page was a love letter to his career, a tribute to the passion that burned in his heart. His fingers traced the embossed initials on the cover, "JS." It was a symbol of your support and belief in him, something tangible to hold onto during his time away from the sport.

"I made this for you," you said, feeling a little shy under his scrutiny. "So you can remember all the amazing things you've accomplished and keep a record of your thoughts during the suspension."

Jannik's eyes glistened with unshed tears as he flipped through the pages, his fingers caressing the soft leather cover. "This is…this is incredible," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

You watched him, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. It had taken you weeks to gather all the moments, the matches, the wins and losses that had shaped him into the man he was today. Each page was a testament to his determination, a reminder of the passion that had brought you both together.

Jannik's eyes searched yours, his voice hoarse with emotion. "How did you do this?"

You shrugged, feeling your own eyes well up. "I wanted you to have something to remind you of your journey. And maybe, just maybe, it'll give you some inspiration for when you come back."

Jannik looked at you, the smile on his face genuine and heartwarming. He leaned over, planting a kiss on your cheek. "Thank you," he whispered, his eyes never leaving yours. "This means more to me than you know."

You felt your own eyes glisten with happiness at his reaction. The suspension had been a dark cloud looming over both of you, but this small act of love had brought a ray of sunshine to cut through the gloom.

"It's nothing," you said, brushing off his gratitude with a wave of your hand. "I just wanted to do something to cheer you up."

Jannik's eyes searched yours, a silent conversation passing between you. He knew how much this gesture meant to him, how much you cared about his happiness. "You've always been there for me," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Even when I don't know how to be there for myself."

You felt your heart swell with affection. "That's what partners do," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "We lift each other up, especially when things are tough."

Jannik nodded, his grip on the journal tightening. "I'm so lucky to have you," he said, his voice earnest. "You always know how to make me feel better."

You blushed, feeling a warmth spread through your cheeks. "Well, that's what you do for me, too," you replied, taking his hand in yours.

Jannik looked down at the journal, his thumb tracing over the embossed initials again. "This is… it's like a piece of me," he murmured, his voice filled with a mix of awe and gratitude.

You watched him, your heart fluttering. You had hoped this small gesture would be a beacon of light in the darkness of his suspension, a reminder of the love and support that surrounded him. "I just wanted to show you that even when you can't play, your story is still being written," you said, your voice gentle.

Jannik took a deep breath, the salty air filling his lungs. He turned the pages of the journal, each one a tapestry of ink and love. "I'll fill the pages," he said, determination etched into his features. "With every thought, every dream, every moment that leads me back to the court."

You smiled, your heart swelling with pride. You had hoped the journal would serve as a sanctuary for his thoughts, a place to keep his spirit alive during the suspension.

"I know you will," you said, your voice filled with confidence. "And when you're back, we'll celebrate every page filled with your determination."

Jannik looked up, his eyes meeting yours. For a moment, the weight of his suspension lifted, and you saw the fire that had made him a tennis star. "Thank you," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "This means more to me than any championship trophy."

You felt a warmth spread through your chest. You had done it. You had managed to bring a glimmer of joy to his otherwise gloomy day. "Let's not forget about those, though," you teased, earning a laugh from him. "They're pretty nice to look at, too."

Jannik rolled his eyes playfully, a hint of the mischief you adored in him returning. "You're just saying that because you're biased."

You couldn't argue with that. You were biased. You had seen the raw talent that had propelled him to stardom, the relentless drive that had made him one of the youngest players to break into the top ten. But you also knew the man behind the racket, the one who loved to cook pasta dishes from his nonna's recipes and who had a secret love for cheesy rom-coms.

The boat gently swayed as you both lay on the blanket, the journal now open between you. Jannik began to read your notes out loud, his voice filled with wonder and nostalgia. Each memory brought a different expression to his face: joy, concentration, and sometimes a hint of sadness. But as the hours ticked by, the sadness began to fade, replaced by a steely resolve.

You watched him, feeling a sense of accomplishment that your surprise had worked. He was still the same Jannik Sinner, the one you had fallen for – passionate, driven, and filled with a love for the sport that had brought you together. But now there was something else, a spark that had been missing since the suspension news. It was a spark of hope, a determination to come back stronger.

[lifeofpriya]

for sinner weekend can u do the quiet acts of love- following the sidewalk rule/^ like imagine realizing it as they gently take the other's wrist and guide them to the other side please? i feel like jannik would be so observant and notice little things and he’s kinda shy so the quiet acts of love seem so fitting for him

your wish is my command, anon 🤭🫶🏼

A Heartfelt Habit

wc: 2.2k

Jannik was a man of few words; he preferred his actions to speak louder than any promise could. He had a gentle touch, a fiery spirit, and a smile that could melt even the most stubborn of hearts. You had been dating him for a few weeks now, and every moment was a surprise wrapped in the anticipation of what was to come.

One balmy evening, as you both strolled through the cobblestone streets of his quaint Italian hometown, the setting sun cast a warm glow over the ancient buildings, making the red roofs seem as though they were on fire. The air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the distant chatter of locals enjoying their evening espressos. Jannik's hand was firm in yours, and you felt the comforting thump of his heartbeat through his palm.

"Wait, there's a big puddle up ahead," Jannik said, his eyes scanning the sidewalk. Without a moment's hesitation, he guided you to the left, placing himself on the side closer to the curb. The water stretched from one side of the path to the other, a glossy mirror reflecting the pastel colors of the buildings.

You looked at him, bewildered. "What are you doing?"

Jannik shot you a boyish grin, his cheeks dimpling slightly. "The sidewalk rule," he replied, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "I always walk on the side closer to the street to protect you from any splashes."

You couldn't help but laugh, feeling both touched and a little embarrassed by the old-fashioned chivalry. "It's just a puddle, Jannik," you said, but your voice was warm with affection.

His eyes held yours, earnest and sincere. "Every little thing counts," he said, his grip on your hand tightening slightly.

You felt a flutter in your chest. This simple gesture, something you had never expected from someone as modern and accomplished as Jannik, was surprisingly charming. It spoke volumes about his character—his respect for you, his attentiveness to your comfort, and his willingness to put you first, even in the smallest of ways.

As you continued walking, the sidewalks grew narrower, forcing you closer together. You could feel the heat from his body, and the scent of his cologne mixed with the fresh summer air was intoxicating. His focus remained on the path ahead, eyes darting to and fro, ensuring there were no other obstacles to navigate around.

You felt a sudden urge to lean into him, to press your cheek against his shoulder and breathe him in. But you held back, not wanting to interrupt the rhythm of the moment. Instead, you watched his profile—the strong line of his jaw, the curve of his full lips, the way his eyebrows furrowed slightly when he was concentrating.

As you approached the town square, the cobblestones gave way to a well-trodden dirt path, lined with lampposts that cast a soft, amber light. The sound of your footsteps and the distant clinking of wine glasses at an outdoor café grew louder as you approached. Jannik steered you around a particularly large stone, his eyes never leaving the ground.

"You're so attentive," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I've never had anyone do this for me before."

Jannik glanced up, his gaze meeting yours. "It's nothing," he said, his cheeks flushing slightly. "It's just the way I was raised."

You couldn't resist the urge to lean into him anymore. You slid your hand up his arm, feeling the muscles tighten beneath your touch, and rested your head on his shoulder. He didn't miss a beat, continuing to guide you through the square with the same careful attention. The warmth of his body enveloped you, and you felt a sense of safety and belonging that was unparalleled.

The dirt path grew more crowded as you reached the heart of the town. Tourists and locals alike milled about, their conversations a blend of Italian and various other languages. The smell of garlic and fresh bread wafted from open windows, making your stomach rumble. Jannik noticed and chuckled, squeezing your hand.

"I know a place," he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "A little trattoria, just around the corner."

You nodded eagerly, the mention of food making your stomach growl louder. He led you down a narrow alleyway, the walls covered in ivy and old, peeling posters advertising past festivals. The sound of laughter and clinking dishes grew louder until you emerged into a small, dimly lit courtyard filled with rustic wooden tables. The smell of garlic and tomato sauce was intoxicating, and your mouth watered in anticipation.

Jannik held the door open for you, the warm light from inside spilling out onto the cobblestones. The hostess greeted him with a cheery "Ciao, Jannik!" and a kiss on both cheeks. She led you to a cozy table in the corner, where a candle flickered in a red wine bottle. The walls were adorned with vintage family photos and faded newspaper clippings of past tennis champions, a subtle nod to Jannik's own success.

You slid into the chair he held out for you, feeling the rough fabric of your jeans against the wooden seat. The cramped space made it feel like a secret hiding spot, a place where the two of you could share a quiet, intimate dinner away from prying eyes. The air was thick with the scent of simmering sauces and fresh basil, making your stomach rumble even more.

Jannik ordered for both of you in fluent Italian, his accent thick and comforting. You watched as he spoke to the waitress, his eyes lighting up with passion as he described the perfect meal. It was clear that he loved this place, and you loved watching him in his element. When he turned back to you, his eyes searched yours, questioning if you were okay with his choices. You nodded enthusiastically, a smile playing on your lips.

The food arrived, steaming plates of pasta that looked like they had been plucked straight from a Renaissance painting. The scent was heavenly, and you couldn't wait to dig in. Jannik reached for his fork, but before he could take a bite, he paused. "May I?" he asked, his eyes looking for permission.

You nodded, curious about his intentions. He took a piece of garlic bread and carefully broke it in half, placing one piece on your plate. "For you," he said, his voice low and sincere. "Always." It was a small gesture, but it meant the world to you. It was as if he was saying, 'I'll share everything with you, even the simple things'.

As you took a bite of the warm, crusty bread, the flavors of garlic and herbs danced on your tongue. The bread was perfect, a testament to the care the chef had put into it. You watched as Jannik twirled his fork in a delicate dance, capturing a mouthful of spaghetti and taking a bite with a contented sigh. You couldn't help but feel a surge of affection as you realized he enjoyed food as much as you did.

The conversation flowed easily between you, a mix of laughter and shared stories. You felt as though you had known Jannik for years, not weeks. His eyes lit up when he talked about his family, his hometown, and his love for the sport that had taken him around the globe. You listened intently, hanging on every word, feeling a growing admiration for his dedication and passion.

As the night grew darker and the candle on your table flickered, casting shadows across your faces, you found yourself lost in his stories. His hands gestured wildly as he recounted a particularly close match, the tension and excitement palpable in his voice. You could see the determination in his eyes, the same determination that had led him to victory so many times.

The pasta was heavenly, each bite a symphony of flavors that seemed to resonate with the beating of your heart. You didn't realize how hungry you were until you felt the warmth of the food spread through your body. Jannik noticed your empty plate and his eyes crinkled with satisfaction.

"I'm so glad you liked it," he said, taking a sip of his wine.

You nodded, your mouth still full of the heavenly concoction. "It's amazing," you managed to say around the food.

Jannik's smile grew wider, and he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "The secret is in the sauce," he confided. "The chef's grandmother's recipe. They say she used to make it for the local champions back in the day."

You took another bite, savoring the rich flavors that seemed to carry a piece of history with them. The town square outside the restaurant windows was now a blur of shadows and soft lights, the chatter of passersby melding into a comforting hum. The moment felt suspended in time, as if the world had stopped just for the two of you.

Jannik reached across the table, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. His touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you found yourself leaning into his hand, your eyes locking onto his. For a moment, you forgot about the food, the restaurant, and the world outside. It was just the two of you, lost in the warmth of each other's presence.

The waitress returned, placing a dessert menu in front of you with a knowing smile. Jannik chuckled, his eyes never leaving yours. "Dolci?" he suggested, his voice low and intimate.

You nodded, your heart racing. The air between you was thick with unspoken words and the promise of what was to come. You pointed to a decadent-looking chocolate torte, and he nodded in approval. "Perfetto," he murmured, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand.

As the dessert arrived, the waitress set it down with a knowing wink. The torte was a masterpiece, the chocolate glistening under the candlelight, a scoop of gelato melting gracefully beside it. Jannik didn't wait for you to pick up your spoon; instead, he reached for it and offered you the first bite. The chocolate was rich and smooth, the gelato a cool contrast that sent a shiver down your spine.

You tasted the love in his gesture, the sweetness of his intentions. As you took the spoon from his hand, your fingers grazed his, sending a spark of electricity through you. The touch was innocent, but it was loaded with the promise of something more, something that made your heart race faster than any tennis match ever could.

Jannik watched you intently as you took a bite, his eyes never leaving your mouth as you savored the decadent dessert. The chocolate was heavenly, but it was the look in his eyes that truly made it special. You could see the way he was memorizing every detail of your face, as if he was afraid that if he blinked, you might disappear.

The moment grew quieter as you both enjoyed the torte, sharing bites and sips of wine. The candle between you cast a warm glow, casting soft shadows that danced across your skin. The conversation lulled, and you found yourself simply enjoying the sound of his breathing, the feel of his hand in yours.

As the last crumbs of dessert disappeared, Jannik leaned back in his chair, his gaze still locked on yours. "Would you like to take a walk?" he asked, his voice a gentle rumble that seemed to resonate in your chest.

You nodded, unable to resist the invitation. The night was still young, and the town had transformed into a tapestry of shadow and light. The cobblestone streets were slick with the remnants of the day's rain, and the air was cool and refreshing against your skin. Jannik held your hand as you strolled, his thumb tracing circles on your palm, sending shivers up your arm.

The walk was leisurely, the silence between you comfortable and filled with the unspoken understanding that had grown over the weeks. You passed by the café where you had shared your first kiss, the spot where the scent of freshly baked cookies had filled the air and the world had stopped spinning for a brief, magical moment. You squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back, a silent acknowledgment of the memory.

The town square was now almost empty, the only sounds the distant echo of laughter and the occasional splash of water from a fountain. The moon had risen, casting a silver glow over the buildings and making the cobblestones shimmer like a river of stars. Jannik led you to a bench under a large, ancient tree, its branches stretching out like protective arms.

You sat down, the cool metal of the bench a stark contrast to the warmth of Jannik's hand. He sat close, his leg brushing against yours. You could feel the heat of his body, and your heart raced in anticipation of what might happen next. His eyes searched yours, and you knew he was feeling the same unspoken tension.

The moon cast a soft light across his features, highlighting the sharp angles of his cheekbones and the intensity of his gaze. You leaned in, unable to resist the magnetic pull, and your lips met in a kiss that was sweet and tender. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, and the world around you faded into the background, leaving only the sound of your mingled breaths and the steady beat of your hearts.