not-magdi

[not-magdi]

It'll be fun they said?

Lando Norris x reader

summary- where Lando and you film 'I Ate and Trained Like Lando Norris for 24 Hours' and it turned into a mess

1.5k words

Lando and a few of the other Quadrant members had been quietly planning this for weeks. With the chaos of Lando's F1 schedule, races, media obligations, and simulator sessions, they had to coordinate dates, group chats filled with calendars, and more than one reschedule. But somehow, everything had finally aligned. Today was the day.

You and Lando had gotten up early to make sure the apartment was clean and camera-ready, everything that was not meant for the public was hidden anything remotely embarrassing was swiftly shoved into closets or under the bed. Lando double-checked that the interview area was up to his standards, and every helmet was precisely aligned on the shelf behind the chair 

Once the apartment was up to standard, you retreated back to bed. You were never up this early, you loved your sleep too much.  You flopped onto the duvet, thumb scrolling through TikTok, ignoring the growing murmur of voices drifting in from the living room. You really didn't want to be in the video because you knew how many comments would be about you and people hating on you for the smallest things 

Lando had poked his head into the bedroom "You okay in here?" Lando said from the doorway of your room, "Yeah", you muttered back, putting on a hoodie over the top of your sports bra and leggings. You added some socks, not particularly keen on your bare feet making an appearance on camera. Lando held out his hand for you, interlocking your fingers and making your way to the kitchen 

You said hello to everyone, giving both Ethan and Morgan a quick side hug before naturally drifting back to Lando’s side. He was already in host mode, grinning as he reached into the fridge. "So on today’s menu is apple cinnamon with pecan overnight oats," Lando said, reaching into the fridge and getting out three containers. Ethan eyed the mush with genuine concern. "Mate, that looks like you ate breakfast and then threw it up." The group fell into conversation while you cut up some fruit and added it to a bowl of yogurt 

Once everyone had eaten breakfast or at least tried to, the video cut to the boys in the workout room. Cameras were repositioned, mics were adjusted, and the guys got ready to sweat. You stood off to the side, out of frame but close enough to help if needed, arms crossed and a faint smile tugging at your lips. "Normally, there are a few bands in here, they might be in our bedroom", Lando muttered. The last bit, both Ethan and Morgan looked at you as your face went slightly red 

"You dirty bastards", Morgan said as he looked over at you. You shook your head. Soon, Lando returned with the band hanging loosely around his shoulders. he showed the boys how to do a pushup and then judged both of their forms. 

"Okay, now we are going to hop into neck training", Lando said with way too much excitement. Both boys looked at him like he was insane. Lando first showed them how to sit on the bench and where to hold. Ethan was up first, and he was scared "You guys wanted to do this video", you said as you saw Ethan shaking as Lando pulled on his neck 

After about 10 minutes, it was Morgan's turn. "This better not pop my head off," Morgan muttered, settling into position. "You’ll be fine," Lando assured him, grinning as he fastened the strap around Morgan’s forehead. "You’ve got a thick skull anyway." Morgan groaned dramatically.  "If I wake up tomorrow and can’t move my neck, I’m suing all of you",

 "Your turn now, Lando ", Ethan said while sitting on the floor rolling his neck. You had helped land multiple times with his neck training, so once Lando was set up and ready, you held the handle and slightly pulled to create some tension, and then you pulled 

"Bro you neck is so vainy almost looks like my dick" Ethan commented which made all of you burst out into the laughter, Lando let out a sharp, surprised bark of laughter, the strap snapping off his head as he broke form completely. Even Morgan, who’d just been dreading his turn, was wheezing in the corner. 

While everyone was in the living room waiting for Lando to be ready for the cryotherapy bit of the video, you and Lando were in the hallway near your shared room, Lando had tried talking you into going to cryotherapy, but you kindly declined that offer real quick, something about standing in a freezing cold room, with just a bikini on, and people watching you made you feel anxious.

"But you said you would film with us", Lando pouted, but you just shook your head. "I already told you no, that I would join in for breakfast and the workout, but nothing more. I have work I need to do, plus it's not something I feel comfortable doing" You said in a low tone, making sure nobody could hear you guys having a disagreement 

"No one’s gonna be filming you like that," he said under his breath. "It’s part of the video. It’s fun." He added while trying to bring you into a hug 

You glanced around to make sure the crew wasn’t in earshot before you answered, your tone low but firm. "Maybe it’s fun for you. For me, it’s anxiety. I don’t like the idea of being in that kind of vulnerable position, especially not on camera. I’m not asking you to understand it, just respect it." For a second, it looked like he might push again. But then his lips pressed into a thin line, and he looked away.

"Yeah, fine, whatever", Lando snapped and walked away, rejoining the group. You heard him grab his keys, and everyone followed. You could hear Ethan asking about you and Lando replying with Don't worry. The door shut behind them, and the apartment fell into a silence so complete it made your ears ring.  

You felt off, like you were letting Lando down. With a deep breath, you made your way into the home office you had set up in Landos' streaming room. You sank down onto your chair, opening your laptop and replying to emails. You were so focused on your emails, you didn't realize the time, and suddenly the front door opened and the apartment was filled with chaos again. 

You tried to drown out the noise and focused on your work, but soon you heard footsteps approaching. Then a knock, quick, but not really waiting for permission. "Hey," Lando said, already halfway through the door. "I need the room. We’re setting up the simulator bit now."

You paused, blinking at him. "Can I just finish this?" you said, pointing at your screen where you had multiple tabs open. "I told you we were using the room today," he said, his tone clipped and impatient. "Just for a bit. I need it." 

You stared at him, the words hitting harder than they should have. You’d built that little corner for yourself, made space in his world without asking for much. And now, you felt like a guest in your own home. "Fine," you murmured, too tired to argue. You shut your laptop, gathered your charger, and made your way to your bedroom, silent, but not unnoticed.

You sat on the edge of the bed and reopened your laptop, trying to settle back into work, but the energy was gone. You saved all your work before opening up Netflix and putting on one of your comfort shows and lying down. About 20 minutes into the show, your bedroom door opened "The boys are leaving for their surprise, if you want to say goodbye to them", Lando said in a harsh tone 

You sat up and quickly walked out of the room to find Morgan, Ethan and the camera crew standing by the front door  "Hope you boys had fun," you said quickly, now in a more anxious bubble where you now felt closer to an anxiety attack. You stood next to Lando, waving goodbye as they walked out of the apartment, 

As soon as the front door closed you hurried back to the comfort of your room, Lando followed and tried pulling you into a hug "fuck off" You snap now your hands were shaking and you knew in less than 5 seconds you were about to go into anxiety attack "gladly" Lando said walking away to his streaming room, all you could do was sit on the floor of your room and cry while Lando was gaming with Max...

please reblog and like 🫶

[not-magdi]

So so good *chef‘s kiss*

all of me (loves all of you)

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: When the podium isn’t enough to quiet his self-doubt, you remind Lando that love isn’t earned by perfection — it’s already his, always.

Word count: 2.7k+

Warnings: fluff, self doubt

A/N:

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

Bahrain was finally quiet. The grandstands, once alive with cheers and chants, had long fallen silent. The floodlights still burned bright against the ink-black sky, but the world beneath them felt hollow now — empty seats, scattered tire marbles littering the track, and the faint, lingering scent of burnt rubber riding on the dry desert breeze.

But none of that seemed to reach Lando. He sat slumped on the padded bench tucked into the far corner of the McLaren hospitality suite, as still as if the world had stopped moving around him. His race suit, half unzipped and limp around his waist, clung to him like the weight of the entire day had settled into the fabric. His hands rubbed over his face again and again, palms dragging slow and hard like he was trying to scrub away more than sweat — like he could erase the whole day if only he rubbed hard enough.

You stood by the door, frozen for a moment, watching the man you loved fall apart piece by piece in front of you. There was something especially painful in the quiet — no cameras, no interviews, no engineers offering consolation or stats. Just Lando and the crushing, invisible battle playing out in his head.

Slowly, you crossed the room. Your footsteps were soft, but the hush was so deep that even the sound of your breath felt too loud. You lowered yourself to your knees in front of him, placing a careful hand on his knee, your thumb brushing the edge of the scuffed fabric.

“Lando…” you tried, voice barely above a whisper.

But he didn’t lift his head. His eyes stayed locked on the floor, unfocused and distant, and when he spoke, his voice was low, flat, and bitter.

“I shouldn’t be happy about today. I don’t deserve to be.”

Your heart clenched at the sharp edges in his tone. You knew how hard he’d fought — you’d seen every lap, every desperate overtake, every second shaved from the gap on the timing screen. And yet here he sat, wrapped up in the belief that it wasn’t enough.

“You finished P3. You made the podium,” you said softly, your fingers curling around his knee, grounding him. “That’s not nothing, Lando.”

He let out a dry, humorless laugh, the sound empty and sharp enough to cut through you.

“A podium because I got lucky with the safety car and half the grid got their strategy wrong,” he muttered, shaking his head slightly. “I couldn’t even nail the start. Simple thing. I messed that up too.”

You shifted closer, your hand moving up to trace the deep furrow that had carved its way between his brows. His skin was warm under your touch, but the tension there was iron-strong, unyielding.

“You fought your way through the field,” you whispered. “You didn’t give up. Not even with the penalty hanging over you. You drove your heart out today.”

His eyes flicked up at last, meeting yours, but there was a distance behind them — like he wasn’t really here, like his mind was still out there on the track, replaying every lap on loop, cataloging each mistake.

“It’s not enough,” he said, barely audible. “I’m not enough.”

Your throat tightened at the weight those words carried, the way he seemed to believe them so completely.

“Baby,” you murmured, sliding your hand into his, lacing your fingers through his even though his grip didn’t return the squeeze. “Why are you so hard on yourself?”

He leaned back against the cold wall, his head tipping back, exhaling the kind of breath that sounded like it had been trapped in his chest for hours.

“Because I don’t feel like the guy people think I am,” he admitted quietly. “Everyone looks at me like I’m some future world champion. Like I’m supposed to be special. But every race I just... prove I’m not. I sit in the car and I tell myself I believe — I force myself to believe — but the second something goes wrong, it’s like... I can’t hold onto it. It slips away before I even cross the finish line.”

Your thumb brushed slow circles over the back of his hand, but his shoulders stayed rigid, braced against something you couldn’t fight for him.

“You know I see you, right?” you said after a long silence. “Really see you. Not the results. Not the press. Just you. And I’ve never thought you were anything less than enough.”

His lips pressed into a thin line, and for a second you thought the words might reach him, but he only shook his head, voice cracking as it spilled out.

“You see the best parts of me,” he said, barely more than a whisper. “But I don’t deserve it. I let everyone down. I let him down.”

You blinked, puzzled by the shift in his tone. “Who?”

There was a pause, and you watched him swallow hard, his throat working around the words.

“The kid I used to be,” he answered finally, his voice raw and unguarded. “The one who believed this was all going to be worth it.”

And in that moment, you understood. No amount of comfort, no perfectly chosen words, no pep talk could close the space between the boy who dreamed of this life and the man who now sat doubting it all.

Without another word, you stood and crossed the room, grabbing your phone from the side table. Your fingers scrolled through your gallery until you found it — a photo you’d saved long ago. Tiny Lando, crammed into his too-big karting suit, clutching his very first trophy with both hands. His smile stretched from ear to ear, eyes shining with pride and hope, completely untouched by the world that lay ahead.

You walked back to him and placed the phone in his lap, not forcing him to look, not saying a thing.

But when his eyes finally dropped to the screen, you saw the faintest shift in his expression — the crack in the wall he’d built around himself.

“Look at him,” you said softly, your voice steady but tender, anchoring him even as it wavered with your own emotion. “That’s who you’re talking about, isn’t it?”

Lando’s fingers hovered above the screen, barely grazing the edges of the photo. His thumb traced the outline of the little boy — the oversized helmet cradled in his arm, the too-big karting suit swallowing his frame, and that impossibly bright smile stretching across his face. His throat worked around the lump that had lodged there, but the words never came. He just stared, like the past and present had collided in his hands.

“You’re tearing him apart,” you whispered, your voice cracking like your heart had. “Every time you talk like this, every time you convince yourself you’re not enough, you’re not just hurting you. You’re hurting him. That little boy didn’t grow up dreaming of being perfect, Lando. He didn’t care about mistakes or bad days or people doubting him. He just dreamed of racing. Of standing on that podium, wearing McLaren orange, fighting with everything he had until the very last lap.”

You watched his jaw tighten, his lips pressed into a thin, unsteady line, and his eyes glistened under the harsh fluorescent light. His whole body seemed trapped between holding it all in and letting it all go.

“He didn’t care about grid penalties, or if some commentator called it ‘luck’ on the broadcast,” you went on, your hand gently curling around his, grounding him. “All he wanted was to grow up and do the thing he loves. And today... you did that. You did it for him.”

The tear came quietly, slipping free before he could stop it, trailing down his cheek. His hands lifted to his face, palms pressed against his eyes, his voice breaking as it finally slipped free.

“I just...” His words crumbled around the edges. “I don’t feel like I’m good enough. Like, ever. Not on track. Not for the team. Not for you.”

Your chest ached at how raw he sounded, how honest. You reached for him, gently curling your hands around his face, guiding him to meet your eyes. You didn’t let him look away, not this time.

“Hey,” you whispered, your thumbs brushing away the tears as they came. “You are more than enough. For all of us. For me. I don’t love you because you stand on podiums, or because of the stats, or how many people believe in you on the good days. I love you because you’re you. Even the parts that don’t believe they’re worth loving.”

His lips quivered, his shoulders shaking under the weight of everything he’d carried alone for too long. He let out a fragile, unsteady breath, the faintest hint of a smile flickering through the sadness.

“You know...” he said, voice barely holding together, “even when I lose... I’m still winning. Because I’ve got you.”

You leaned in, pressing your lips to his in a soft, lingering kiss — not to erase the ache, not to fix what couldn’t be fixed in a night, but to remind him you were still here. That you always would be. The kiss was slow, steady, the kind that said more than words ever could. When you finally pulled back, you rested your forehead against his.

“And you’ve got me,” you whispered against his skin. “Always.”

The room fell quiet again. The world outside the walls of the hospitality suite kept spinning — engineers packing up, transporters rumbling to life, the desert wind sweeping away the last traces of the night. But inside, the quiet was different. His hand stayed wrapped around yours, fingers holding on like he’d finally stopped freefalling, the photo of his younger self still glowing faintly on the phone screen beside him.

Eventually, his head tilted against your shoulder, the weight of the night catching up with him, exhaustion finally tugging at the frayed edges of his posture. His voice was quieter now, stripped of the sharpness from earlier, soft and almost childlike.

“Do you think... he’d be proud of me?” he asked, barely louder than the hum of the air conditioning.

You turned your head, resting your cheek against his hair.

“I know he would,” you murmured. “Because you’ve done everything he dreamed about. And you’re still the same kid at heart — still chasing it, even on the days it hurts.”

Lando’s exhale was slow, and for the first time all night, it wasn’t heavy. Just tired. Just human.

You sat there until the voices outside faded entirely, until only the night remained pressing against the windows, quiet and vast. It was you who finally shifted first, gently squeezing his hand.

“Come on,” you whispered. “Let’s get you out of this suit. You’ve done enough for one night.”

Reluctantly, he let you pull him up from the bench, his body stiff from sitting so long, but when he stood, it was like some invisible part of the weight had lifted. You helped peel the rest of his race suit off, folding it neatly and setting it aside, and he changed into the soft hoodie you’d brought — the one he always reached for when the world felt too loud.

As you both made your way back to the hotel, the silence between you wasn’t heavy anymore. It was easy. His hand found yours again as you walked through the dim, empty corridors, and you could feel the difference in the way he held it — like he was no longer gripping to stay afloat, but just holding on. Because he wanted to.

Later, when the hotel room door clicked shut behind you, he didn’t say much. Just dropped his bag on the floor and sat at the edge of the bed.

“Will you... stay with me a bit longer?” His thumb brushed absentmindedly over your side, almost like he was afraid you’d slip away if he didn’t ask.

You leaned your head against his, answering without hesitation. “Always.”

A long pause followed, his breath steady but his body still tense, like sleep wasn’t ready to fully take him yet. After a while, his voice came again, quieter this time.

“Can we... I don’t know. Just—be close. I don’t wanna think. I just... need you.”

His honesty cracked something new and tender open inside your chest. You tilted your head, pressing a soft kiss against his temple.

“Let’s wash the day off, hm?” you murmured, running your fingers through his curls. “You’ll feel better.”

He nodded slowly, almost childlike in the way he let you guide him off the bed, his hand never leaving yours as you both padded toward the bathroom.

You turned on the shower, waiting for the water to warm as the steam began to curl into the quiet space. When you glanced over your shoulder, Lando was still standing there, hoodie sleeves pushed up slightly, eyes flicking to you and then away like he was still stuck somewhere between the racetrack and the little boy in that photo.

You reached for him again.

“Come here,” you said softly.

He stepped closer, close enough that your hands could slide up beneath the hem of his hoodie, helping him peel it away, and then the rest — each layer like shedding a little more of the doubt clinging to his skin. You slipped out of your own clothes too, and when the water was ready, you guided him in first.

The heat wrapped around both of you, and for a long moment neither of you spoke. You stood chest-to-chest, the sound of the water filling the space, your arms sliding around his waist, holding him steady. His forehead dropped against your shoulder, and you felt the way his chest rose and fell, slow and deep.

“You don’t have to say anything,” you whispered into the wet curls at the nape of his neck. “Not tonight.”

But after a few quiet beats, his voice broke through, hoarse but honest.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, brushing your fingers across his cheek. “You didn’t have to do anything to deserve me, Lando. You just have to be you. That’s enough. You’ve always been enough.”

His throat worked around another wave of emotion, and his arms slid around you, holding you tighter now, more grounded.

“You make it easier to believe,” he whispered.

You smiled, pressing a kiss against his damp shoulder. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

The rest of the shower passed like that — quiet, simple touches. Your fingers combed gently through his hair, rinsing the day’s sweat and grime away, while he let his hands trace slow, absent patterns along your back. Not rushed. Not complicated. Just the kind of closeness he’d been aching for, the kind that told him, without words, he wasn’t alone.

When you finally stepped out, you wrapped him in one of the oversized hotel towels, your hands smoothing it over his damp shoulders. He let out a soft, tired laugh under his breath — the kind that wasn’t about being fixed, but about finally breathing a little easier.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, voice scratchy but warm. “For all of this. For you.”

You cupped his face again, gently, looking at him like he was the only thing that mattered. “There’s nothing you could do that would make me stop choosing you. You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to be you.”

He leaned into your touch, eyes closing for a moment, and when he opened them again, the weight in them was still there — but softer, not so sharp.

You climbed into bed together after that, the covers pulled up, his body pressed close to yours, limbs tangled like he couldn’t quite bear to let the space grow between you. His head nestled into the crook of your neck, breath evening out little by little, and as the minutes passed, you felt the tension finally slip from his muscles.

Before sleep finally claimed him, he murmured one last thought against your skin.

“Maybe I’ll start trying to believe it. If you do.”

You smiled, holding him tighter. “I already do. And I’ll keep reminding you until you do too.”

The night settled fully around you both, and this time, it wasn’t silence filled with doubts — it was peace. And even if tomorrow brought the doubts back, for now, this was enough.

And for him, that meant everything.

[not-magdi]

-take care of you / ben Shelton

Warnings: none, flu?

Words: 616

Reading Time: 4min

Request: could you do another where ben takes care of a sick reader? maybe reader takes care of him? also ur writing is so amazing omg

I'm so sorry for not posting for a while but I'm drowning in exams and sadly didn't have the time, but I'll try to write a bit <3

The moment Ben stepped into their apartment, he knew something was wrong. Normally, by this time of day, Y/N would either be curled up on the couch watching something or coming up to greet him. But today, the apartment was eerily quiet.

Frowning, he kicked off his shoes and made his way down the hall, gently pushing open the bedroom door.

Y/N was barely visible under a pile of blankets, only the top of her head and the tip of her nose peeking out. Her face was flushed, her breathing uneven, and when she turned her head slightly to look at him, she let out a hoarse groan.

"Hey, babe," she croaked, her voice scratchy and weak. "I think I’m dying."

Ben's heart clenched at how miserable she looked. He quickly moved to the bed, crouching beside her and brushing a few damp strands of hair from her forehead.

"You’re burning up," he murmured, concern heavy in his voice. "Why didn’t you text me?"

Y/N gave a weak shrug. "Didn’t wanna bother you."

Ben scoffed, shaking his head. "You could never bother me."

She closed her eyes, sniffling, and he pressed a soft kiss to her warm forehead before standing up.

"Alright, you stay here—actually, you don’t really have a choice, you look like you can’t even move. I’m gonna grab some medicine, food, and one of my hoodies. I know you like them when you’re sick."

Y/N hummed in approval, barely able to keep her eyes open.

Ben returned a few minutes later, balancing a glass of water, some flu medicine, a bowl of soup, and one of his thick hoodies—the one she always stole because, as she put it, "it smells like you, and it’s the comfiest thing ever."

He set everything down and carefully helped her sit up. She groaned at the movement, her head falling against his shoulder.

"I feel like a puddle," she muttered.

Ben smiled softly, kissing the top of her head. "You kinda look like one, too."

She attempted to glare at him but was too weak to pull it off.

"Here, take this first," he said, handing her the medicine and the glass of water.

Y/N wrinkled her nose but obediently swallowed the pills, chasing them down with a few sips of water. She groaned at the taste and shuddered.

Ben chuckled. "Yeah, I know. Disgusting. But it’ll help."

He grabbed the hoodie and gently pulled it over her head, helping her slip her arms through the sleeves. Y/N sighed the moment it was on, snuggling into the warm fabric.

"Better?" he asked.

She nodded sleepily. "Smells like you."

Ben grinned. "That’s the point."

Once she had eaten a few spoonfuls of soup, he decided she needed a change of scenery. Carefully, he scooped her up, ignoring her weak protests, and carried her to the couch. He settled in, letting her lay fully on top of him, her cheek resting against his chest.

Y/N let out a long sigh. "This is nice," she mumbled, already half-asleep.

Ben smiled, wrapping his arms around her and rubbing small circles on her back. "Yeah? Want me to rub your head? I know it hurts."

She made a small noise of approval, and Ben gently started massaging her scalp, his fingers threading through her hair in slow, soothing motions. Y/N practically melted against him.

"If I weren’t so sick, I’d marry you for this," she muttered.

Ben chuckled, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Good to know."

As she drifted off, Ben kept holding her, massaging her scalp every few minutes, just content to have her close. If he got sick, he got sick. Taking care of her was worth it.

--------

Hope you enjoyed it !! ❤️🎾

[not-magdi]

I've just realised NOW that I accidentally wrote a whole story WITH MY NAME INSTEAD OF Y/N. LIKE HOW ON EARTH DID I NOT NOTICE THIS !! ??

Anyways, I changed it now and lets pretend this never happened ok? 🥹

If you want to read the right version : Puppy Love

[not-magdi]

-indian wells / ben shelton

Warnings: sad Ben :(

Words: 1.8 k (I do not know what happened there)

Reading time: 8 min 30 sec

Request: -hi! fist of all, i just want to say that i really like your work🥺 can you write about reader comforting ben after indian wells? i'll leave the rest up to you :c

-Hi, how about something with Ben and helping him cope/ cheer him up after his loss at Indian wells. Would love for it to be smut, but you can totally decide the genre XO 😋

Thank you so much you two for requesting, I sadly couldn't write smut as I couldn't incorporate it as well as I wanted to. Hope you still love it <3

MASTERLIST

Ben didn’t say a word after the match.

Y/N had expected this. She knew how he got after a tough loss—how frustration settled in his bones, making words feel useless. She didn’t take it personally. She didn’t try to push him.

Instead, she just focused on what he needed.

As soon as he stepped off the court and into the tunnel, she could see the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers flexed like he was still gripping his racket. Cameras flashed, staff moved around them, and voices buzzed in the background, but Ben walked in silence, his face set in a hard line.

Y/N didn’t try to speak. She simply walked beside him, close enough that their arms brushed.

When they reached the locker room, she waited outside, giving him space. She knew he needed a moment to himself—to shower, to process, to let the weight of the loss settle. And when he finally emerged, hair damp and hoodie pulled over his head, she could tell he was still stuck in his own head.

She didn’t say anything. Instead, she reached into her bag and pulled out another hoodie—his favorite, the one he always stole from her because it was softer than any of his. Without a word, she held it out to him.

Ben glanced at it, then at her. He hesitated for a second before taking it, his fingers gripping the fabric tightly as he pulled it on. He didn’t thank her, but he didn’t need to. The way he sighed quietly as the soft fabric surrounded him said enough.

The walk through the stadium was slow, and Y/N stayed close, subtly shielding him from lingering reporters or curious onlookers. She kept her hand lightly on his back, just a small touch, a reminder that she was there.

When they finally reached the parking lot, Ben exhaled, tilting his head back for a second before climbing into the car. Y/N got into the driver’s seat, adjusting the mirrors and glancing at him before she started the car.

Without a word, she reached into the center console and pulled out his headphones. She held them out to him, knowing they were the one thing that could help him shut out the world for a little while.

Ben hesitated for a brief moment before taking them. He didn’t put them on right away. He just stared at them in his hands before finally slipping them over his ears.

Y/N rested her hand lightly on his knee for a moment, her touch warm and grounding. She gave it a small squeeze, then focused on driving.

The car ride was silent except for the sound of the tires on the road. Y/N didn’t try to fill it. She knew Ben needed this—needed the quiet, needed to not think about the match for a little while.

Every once in a while, she glanced over at him. His jaw was still tight, his brows furrowed. But there was something softer about him now, like the weight of everything was settling instead of suffocating.

By the time they reached the hotel, he still hadn’t spoken. But when Y/N parked the car and reached over to squeeze his hand for just a second before letting go, he didn’t pull away.

And that was enough for now.

Back in the hotel room, Ben sat heavily on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees, head hanging low. Y/N watched him for a moment before walking over and sitting beside him, their legs just barely touching.

She could’ve told him he played well. That he deserved to win. That he’d bounce back. But she knew none of that would help right now.

So instead, she said softly, “It’s okay to be upset.”

Ben exhaled slowly but still didn’t say anything.

Y/N continued, her voice quiet but steady. “I know you don’t want to hear me say you played great. And I’m not gonna force you to feel better when you’re not ready. But I just need you to know… I’m here. No matter how you feel about tonight, I’m still here.”

For a few seconds, he didn’t move. Then, almost imperceptibly, he leaned into her, his shoulder pressing against hers. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

Y/N turned her head slightly, watching him from the side. “Can I do anything for you?”

Ben swallowed, then shook his head.

“Okay,” she whispered.

She was about to suggest getting into bed when her eyes flickered down to his hands, and her heart squeezed. His blisters were bad tonight—bigger than she’d seen them in a while, raw and red from gripping his racket for hours. She knew they had been bothering him, even if he hadn’t mentioned it.

Without a word, she stood up and walked to her bag, rummaging through it until she found the small first aid kit she always carried with her.

When she turned back around, Ben raised an eyebrow. “Really?” he muttered, but there was no real annoyance in his voice.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Yes, really. Give me your hands.”

Ben sighed, but he didn’t argue. He held out his hands, palms up, letting her take them in hers.

Y/N was gentle as she worked, dabbing a bit of antiseptic onto the worst spots before carefully covering them with bandages. Ben winced slightly but didn’t complain.

She could feel his eyes on her as she worked, the room quiet except for their steady breathing. When she finally finished, she rubbed her thumbs gently over the backs of his hands, then looked up at him.

“All done,” she murmured.

Ben exhaled, flexing his fingers slightly before giving her a tired, lopsided smile. “You’re too good to me.”

Y/N scoffed. “I know.”

Ben chuckled softly, shaking his head. Then, before she could react, he tugged her forward, pulling her onto the bed with him.

She yelped in surprise but didn’t resist as he wrapped himself around her, his head resting on her chest, his arm draped lazily over her waist.

Y/N didn’t hesitate—she just held him, fingers gently threading through his hair, her touch slow and soothing.

Minutes passed like that, the room filled only with the sound of their breathing. Eventually, Ben murmured, “I hate this part.”

Y/N’s fingers stilled for a moment. “What part?”

“The part where it feels like all the work I put in meant nothing.” His voice was raw, quiet, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to say it out loud.

Y/N pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “It meant something,” she said softly. “It always means something.”

Ben didn’t respond right away. His hand tightened slightly on her waist. “It just sucks.”

“I know,” she whispered. “I hate seeing you like this.”

“Then maybe I should start winning more,” he muttered.

Y/N sighed dramatically. “You really should. I’m sick of comforting you all the time.”

Ben let out a short, tired laugh, and Y/N smiled against his hair.

She didn’t say anything else. She just kept running her fingers through his hair, her touch steady, grounding. Eventually, she felt his breathing even out, the weight of exhaustion finally winning over the frustration.

She held him a little tighter.

No matter how many losses, no matter how many nights like this, she would always be here.

-------

Hope you enjoyed it, if you have your own idea of a story please request I am more than happy to write it! You can request at my masterlist ❤️

[not-magdi]

Ok so I wanted to write something about Ben‘s loss at Indian wells, but I have to versions in my head, one is more on the fluffy side and the other is quite angsty but with a positive ending

Please ignore the typo I can’t change the poll anymore 🙏

[not-magdi]

-our secret / Ben shelton

Warnings: very suggestive, no smut though, college!au

Words: 1028

Reading time: 4min 30sec

Requested: no, but please request something I‘m running out of requests! You can request on my masterlist !

Summary: Ben wins his tournament and you sneak into his dorm in the middle of the night to congratulate him…. Until something (someone) interrupts you

MASTERLIST

The door to Ben’s dorm clicked shut behind Y/N as she slipped inside, her pulse thrumming with excitement. They weren’t supposed to be sneaking around like this—not in the middle of the night, not with the entire team staying in the same hall—but after his big tournament win, she figured he deserved a proper reward.

Ben was already waiting for her, lounging at the edge of his bed, his damp hair still a little messy from his shower. He looked both exhausted and smug, his smirk lazy as he took her in.

“You finally decided to show up,” he teased, reaching out to tug her closer by the waistband of her leggings.

Y/N rolled her eyes, her hands resting on his shoulders for balance. “If I took my time, you’d still be waiting.”

Ben hummed, his grip firm on her hips. “Would’ve been worth it.”

She huffed, but before she could fire back, he pulled her onto his lap, his hands slipping beneath her sweater as his lips brushed against her jaw. The heat of his touch sent a shiver down her spine, and her breath hitched slightly as his fingers traced lazy circles on her skin.

“You’re feeling bold tonight,” she murmured, tilting her head slightly as his lips trailed down her neck.

Ben smirked against her skin. “I just won a whole damn tournament. Think I earned it.”

Y/N barely had time to respond before he kissed her—slow at first, teasing, but with an underlying urgency that made her stomach flip. His hands roamed over her body, pulling her even closer as the kiss deepened.

Somehow, between kisses, he managed to shift them until she was flat on her back, his body hovering over hers. Her fingers tangled in his hair, nails scratching lightly at his scalp, and the low groan that rumbled from his throat sent a thrill through her.

His lips moved lower, down her neck, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses along her collarbone. She let out a shaky breath as he lifted her sweater slightly, his fingertips grazing the bare skin beneath.

“Ben,” she whispered, her voice unsteady.

“Mhm?” His hands continued their slow exploration, pushing her sweater up even further.

She was about to tell him exactly what she wanted when he sat up just enough to yank his own shirt over his head.

“God, you are so—” She stopped herself, biting her lip as she ran her fingers down his chest.

Ben grinned, dipping his head to kiss her again, his hands now sliding beneath the waistband of her leggings. “Yeah?” he murmured against her lips.

“Cocky,” she finished, smirking.

He let out a laugh, shaking his head before kissing her even deeper. The heat between them was growing fast, her body arching into his as his fingers toyed with the waistband of her leggings. He pulled away just long enough to reach for the nightstand, his fingers curling around the handle as he pulled the drawer open. He was already pulling a condom from the box when—

Knock, knock.

They froze.

For a split second, neither of them moved.

Then—

“Ben? You in there?”

Y/N’s eyes widened in sheer horror. No. No way.

Ben tensed above her, his arm still outstretched toward the nightstand like he was waiting for reality to reset itself. Then, as if a switch flipped, he shot up so fast he nearly toppled off the bed. Y/N scrambled up with him, her pulse hammering as she frantically yanked her sweater back into place.

Ben turned to her with pure panic in his eyes before glancing around the tiny dorm room for an escape plan. “Hide!” he hissed.

“Where?!” she whisper-shouted back.

His gaze landed on the narrow space between his bed and the wall. Without hesitation, he yanked his blanket off the bed and threw it over the gap. “Go!”

Y/N dove behind it just as he turned back toward the door. His hand was on the doorknob when his eyes darted around the room in sudden realization. Where the hell was his shirt?!

Before he could even think about finding it, his dad knocked again—more impatient this time.

“Ben?”

With no other choice, Ben took a deep breath and cracked open the door, standing there completely shirtless with his hair a mess, his breathing still uneven.

His dad blinked at him, eyes narrowing. “…Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?”

Ben panicked. His mind raced for a logical explanation. Come on, say something normal. Say something believable.

“I was—uh—doing push-ups.”

His dad’s expression did not change. “At midnight?”

Ben nodded, dead serious. “Gotta keep the gains, you know?”

Y/N, still hidden behind the bed, slapped a hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing.

His dad exhaled through his nose, clearly debating whether or not he wanted to question it further. “Right,” he finally said. “Well, I just wanted to congratulate you again. You played a great tournament.”

Ben nodded way too quickly. “Thanks, Dad. Appreciate it. But, uh, super tired. Gotta rest up, you know?”

His dad gave him a long, suspicious look but eventually sighed. “Alright. Get some sleep.”

The second the door clicked shut, Ben locked it and let out a groan, rubbing both hands over his face.

Y/N peeked out from behind the blanket, her hair an absolute mess, eyes gleaming with barely-contained laughter. “Push-ups?” she whispered, biting her lip.

Ben let out the most dramatic groan, flopping onto the bed. “I panicked, okay?”

Y/N crawled out of her hiding spot, smoothing down her sweater as she sat beside him. “Uh-huh.” She smirked. “I don’t know. I think ‘midnight push-ups’ is a solid excuse. Very believable.”

Ben groaned again, dragging a hand over his face. “I’m never letting you sneak in again.”

Y/N leaned in, brushing her lips just below his ear. “Liar.”

Ben peeked at her, a slow smirk creeping back onto his face. “Yeah, okay. Maybe a liar.”

She tilted her head, eyes flickering to his lips. “So… where were we?”

Ben flipped them over in one swift motion, his body pressing against hers once more. “You tell me.”

And just like that, they were back where they left off.

—————

Ok so I‘m obsessed with college Ben, would you like me to do more of these college stories?

Tell me in the comments !

[not-magdi]

-acapulco all white / Ben Shelton

Warnings: none

Words: 1180

Reading Time: 5min

Request: can u write a ben shelton x reader where he gets jealous or smth like that ? lovee a jealous ben shelton !!! thanks girlie

Thank you for requesting! My inbox is empty again so please request!

MASTERLIST

The warm night air of Acapulco buzzed with conversation and the clinking of champagne glasses as the ATP players and their guests gathered for the prestigious all-white opening party. The terrace overlooked the ocean, the moon casting a soft glow over the elegant crowd dressed in crisp white attire.

Y/N adjusted the silky fabric of her dress, smoothing it over her hips as she scanned the party. The dress was stunning—Ben had told her at least five times already how good she looked in it. His eyes had practically lit up when he saw her, his hand lingering on her waist longer than necessary, a smirk playing on his lips when he leaned down to whisper, “You do realize every guy here is going to be staring at you, right?”

She had laughed it off, brushing a kiss against his cheek before they entered the party together.

Now, as she stood near one of the tall cocktail tables, waiting for Ben to return with their drinks, she took a slow breath, enjoying the ambiance. That was, until a voice interrupted her peace.

“Can I just say—you look absolutely breathtaking tonight.”

Y/N turned, her polite smile already in place as she faced the man who had approached her. He was tall, well-dressed, and clearly confident in his approach. His smile was charming, but there was something about the way he looked at her that made her stomach turn slightly.

“Thank you,” she said, keeping her tone even as she glanced subtly toward the bar, hoping Ben would hurry up.

The man, undeterred, stepped closer. “I don’t think I’ve seen you at one of these before. Are you here with someone, or is this my lucky night?”

Y/N fought the urge to roll her eyes. “I’m actually here with my boyfriend,” she said lightly, shifting her weight just enough to subtly create space between them.

The man chuckled. “Boyfriend, huh? Lucky guy. But he must not be too worried if he left you all alone.”

Y/N stiffened slightly, her patience wearing thin. “He just went to grab us drinks,” she said, her voice still polite but firmer this time. “And trust me, he has nothing to worry about.”

The man’s smirk didn’t falter, but before he could reply, a familiar presence appeared at Y/N’s side.

Ben.

His hand found the small of her back, his grip firm, possessive—but not forceful. His expression was unreadable, but the tension in his jaw told her everything she needed to know.

“Hey, babe,” Ben said smoothly, handing her a glass of champagne before turning his full attention to the man in front of them. “Something going on here?”

The man hesitated, suddenly less confident now that Ben was standing between him and Y/N. “Oh, we were just talking,” he said, his tone noticeably more cautious now.

Ben didn’t smile. “Yeah? Funny, because from over there, it looked a lot like you were bothering my fiancée.”

Y/N blinked. Fiancée?

The man’s expression faltered slightly. “I—uh, didn’t realize,” he muttered. “No offense, man.”

Ben didn’t move, his gaze unwavering. “None taken. But if I were you, I’d make sure I realize next time before approaching someone else’s girl.”

The man nodded quickly before muttering something under his breath and walking away.

As soon as he was gone, Y/N turned to Ben, biting back a smirk.

“Fiancée?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow.

Ben exhaled through his nose, taking a sip of his drink. “What?” he asked, acting innocent.

Y/N folded her arms, looking up at him with amusement. “I didn’t realize we got engaged.” She tilted her head. “Unless I missed the whole proposal part.”

Ben finally let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. “It got the guy to back off, didn’t it?”

Y/N hummed, tapping a finger against her chin. “Mhm, or maybe someone got just a little jealous.”

Ben scoffed. “Jealous? Me?”

Y/N grinned. “Oh, definitely jealous. The way you came marching over here with that whole ‘I’m big and scary’ act?�� She leaned in slightly, dropping her voice to a teasing whisper. “You were fuming.”

Ben rolled his eyes. “I was not.”

“You so were.”

“Was not.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “You basically growled at him, Ben.”

Ben huffed. “Well, can you blame me? The guy was practically drooling over you.”

“Well, I am very drool-worthy,” Y/N teased, flipping her hair dramatically.

Ben groaned, but there was amusement in his eyes as he slid his arm around her waist, pulling her against him. “You think you’re so funny, don’t you?”

Y/N grinned up at him. “I know I am.”

Ben stared at her for a moment before leaning down, brushing his lips against the shell of her ear. His voice dropped lower, playful but undeniably smug.

“You didn’t deny the fiancée thing, though.”

Y/N’s breath hitched slightly before she pulled back, narrowing her eyes at him. “You’re impossible.”

Ben just smirked. “And yet, you love me for it.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the smile tugging at her lips as she took his hand, leading him back toward the party.

Ben may have been jealous, but she had to admit—she kind of liked it.

------

Hope you enjoyed it ❤️

[not-magdi]

-by your side / ben shelton

Warnings: None ;)

Words: 946

Reading Time: 3min 42sec

Request: Hii could you an imagine where reader and Ben are at a family gathering/party with Ben family and he is very clingy (not in a bad way obviously) and reader is kinda shy cause his family is there but that doesn’t stop him from being attached to her (can you make it extra cute pleaseee) that would be very great thanks

Thank you for requesting !

MASTERLIST

The evening was warm, the golden hues of the setting sun casting a soft glow over the backyard. Laughter echoed through the air, mixing with the distant sound of a grill sizzling and the faint melody of music playing from a speaker on the patio. Ben’s family was in their element—talking over one another, swapping stories, and passing around plates of food as if they hadn’t seen each other in years.

Y/N loved these gatherings. She had always admired the way Ben’s family made her feel welcome from the very first barbecue she attended, treating her like she had always belonged. Over the years, she had grown more comfortable, even picking up on the inside jokes and family traditions. But despite how much she enjoyed being here, she still wasn’t quite used to one thing.

Ben’s absolute refusal to leave her side.

She wasn’t complaining—not really. She loved being with him, loved the way he could turn any situation into something lighthearted and fun. But tonight? He was extra clingy.

“Ben,” she whispered, nudging him with her elbow.

He barely reacted, his arm still wrapped firmly around her waist as he stood beside her. He had been glued to her like this all night, holding onto her like she might disappear at any moment.

He let out a hum of acknowledgment but made no move to step away.

She tilted her head to look up at him, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Are you planning on letting me breathe at some point tonight?”

Ben gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. “Wow. So ungrateful.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, biting back a smile. “I’m not ungrateful. I just think your family might want some of your attention.”

“They can have my attention anytime,” he said with a smirk, pulling her a fraction closer. “You, on the other hand? I only get to see you in this dress for one night.”

Y/N felt her cheeks warm at his words. She had put in a little extra effort tonight—just a simple sundress, nothing too fancy—but Ben had been subtly (and not-so-subtly) complimenting her all evening, making it very clear how much he appreciated the look.

“Ben,” she muttered, glancing around as if someone might overhear.

“What?” he said, feigning innocence. “It’s not my fault you look really, really good tonight.”

She shook her head with a quiet laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love it,” he countered smoothly.

Before she could respond, a voice called out from across the yard.

“Ben, stop clinging to Y/N and come help with the drinks!”

It was his cousin, Jake, standing by the cooler with an exasperated expression. A few other family members snickered, clearly entertained by Ben’s refusal to let go of her.

Ben groaned dramatically, as if he were being asked to do something truly unbearable. “You see what I have to deal with?” he muttered to Y/N, tightening his grip for just a second before sighing heavily.

Y/N chuckled, nudging him playfully. “Go, before they start plotting ways to drag you over there.”

Ben narrowed his eyes at her. “You just want me to leave so you can flirt with my family while I’m gone.”

She blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“I’ve seen the way my grandma looks at you,” he said, voice low and conspiratorial. “I leave for one second, and suddenly you’re her new favorite grandchild. I’m being replaced before my very eyes.”

Y/N let out a laugh, shaking her head. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Dramatic? Or correct?”

“Go,” she said, giving him a gentle shove in the direction of his cousin.

He sighed heavily, as if it physically pained him to step away. But before he left, he leaned in, his lips brushing against her temple. “Don’t move,” he murmured. “I’ll be back before you even miss me.”

Y/N fought the warmth creeping up her neck as he finally walked away, shaking her head as she watched him go.

God, he was impossible.

And yet, she did love it.

A few minutes passed, and Y/N found herself seated at one of the patio tables, sipping on a cold drink as she chatted with Ben’s aunt. The conversation was light and easy—until a familiar presence settled beside her, pressing against her side once again.

“See? Told you I wouldn’t be gone long,” Ben said, as if he had just survived some grueling separation.

Y/N sighed, turning to him with an amused look. “Ben, you were gone for five minutes.”

“Five agonizing minutes,” he corrected, slipping his arm back around her waist like it belonged there.

She shook her head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And yet,” he said, grinning, “you’re still here.”

She bit her lip, trying to suppress a smile. She could argue, could tease him about his clinginess, but the truth was—she liked being here. She liked the way he leaned into her, liked the warmth of his arm around her waist, liked the way he made her feel like the most important person in the room.

So instead of pushing him away, she simply sighed, resting her head lightly against his shoulder.

Ben immediately melted. “Oh? So we’re being soft now?” he teased.

“Shut up,” she muttered, her face warm.

His laughter was soft, his grip tightening just slightly. “Not a chance.”

Across the yard, Ben’s mom caught sight of them and shook her head fondly. “He’s always been like this,” she mused to Ben’s aunt.

His aunt chuckled. “Yeah, but I think it’s worse with her.”

Neither Y/N nor Ben noticed the exchange. They were too caught up in their own little world.

And neither of them would have it any other way.

-------

Hope you enjoyed it! ❤️

[not-magdi]

-suit and tie / ben shelton

Warnings: none

Words: 717

Reading time: 3 min 50sec

Request: Hey, could you do an imagine where Ben and reader are going on a date and Ben doesn’t know how to tie his tie and ask reader to tie it for him and he just flirts the entire time please? Thank you :)

Thank you for requesting !!

MASTERLIST

Ben stood in front of the mirror, his eyebrows furrowed in frustration as he wrestled with his bowtie for what had to be the hundredth time. He had tried following the video tutorial three times, attempted the old-school method once, and even muttered a few choice words under his breath as if that would somehow make the fabric behave.

Yet, here he was—standing in a perfectly tailored black suit, hair styled just right, looking every bit the polished gentleman except for the completely lopsided, twisted mess around his neck.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, tugging at the knot in defeat.

Behind him, Y/N stepped into the room, slipping in a pair of delicate earrings as she took in the sight before her. She had been expecting him to be ready by now, maybe even waiting for her with that signature cocky grin of his. Instead, she was met with the rare sight of Ben Shelton losing a battle—to a bowtie, of all things.

A smirk tugged at her lips. “Need some help there, handsome?”

Ben turned to her, hands dropping from the offending fabric as he exhaled dramatically. “Yes, please. I think this thing hates me.”

Y/N chuckled and stepped closer, reaching for the tie. “Or maybe you just don’t know what you’re doing.”

He scoffed, placing his hands on her waist almost instinctively. “Excuse you, I followed like three tutorials.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Clearly not well enough.”

Ben narrowed his eyes playfully. “That’s bold, baby. Talking all this smack while you’re literally in my arms.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, focusing on undoing his disastrous attempt at tying the bow. The heat of his hands on her waist didn’t go unnoticed, nor did the way his thumbs started tracing small, slow circles against the fabric of her dress. He wasn’t even being subtle about it.

“You’re really good at this,” Ben mused, watching her fingers work.

“I know, someone had to learn, considering you clearly can’t.”She said, biting back a smile.

Ben gasped, placing a hand over his heart in mock offense. “Wow. First, I’m struggling, and now I’m getting bullied? This is a low point for me.”

Y/N fought the urge to roll her eyes again, but she had to admit—it was incredibly hard to concentrate when he was looking at her like that. His brown eyes, warm and mischievous, were locked onto her face, taking in every little movement as if she were the most interesting thing in the world.

Then, just when she thought he might behave, his voice dropped to a low, teasing murmur.

“You look insane tonight, by the way.”

Her fingers faltered slightly as she looped the fabric, and Ben definitely noticed.

“Like, I literally forgot what I was doing when you walked in,” he continued, his grip on her waist tightening slightly. “Completely useless after that. Brain? Gone. Thoughts? None.”

“Ben—” she warned, trying to focus on the bowtie.

“Mmm?” he hummed, his smirk growing.

“Stop trying to distract me.”

Ben grinned, dipping his head slightly so his nose brushed against her hair. “But you make it so easy.”

Y/N shook her head, trying her best to ignore the warmth pooling in her stomach. “If you don’t let me finish this, we will be late.”

“Alright, alright,” he relented, though the smug grin never left his face.

She finally pulled the fabric into place, tightening the knot with a satisfied tug. “There. All done.”

Ben turned to the mirror, adjusting the bowtie slightly. “Damn. You are good.” Then, without missing a beat, his hands slid from her waist to her lower back, pulling her closer. “Think you could tie me up in something else later?”

Y/N’s eyes widened, and she smacked his chest, laughing. “Ben!”

He grinned down at her. “What? Just throwing out some ideas.”

She sighed dramatically, shaking her head. “Come on, Mr. Flirt. Our reservation won’t wait forever.”

Ben smirked, offering his arm like a proper gentleman. “After you, my bowtie savior.”

And with that, they headed out, Ben already planning all the ways he’d get her flustered again before the night was over.

---------

Don't forget to leave a note if you enjoyed it, feedback is always welcome! 🤍

[not-magdi]

-a deal‘s a deal pt. 2 / ben shelton

Warnings: none :)

Word count: 850

Reading time: 3 min

Requested: no

MASTERLIST PART ONE

Ben could barely contain his excitement as he stood outside the restaurant, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He had been on plenty of dates before, but this one felt different. He had spent way too much time picking out his outfit, making sure he looked effortlessly put together—dark jeans, a fitted black button-up with the sleeves rolled up just enough to show off his forearms.

But none of it compared to the way his breath caught in his throat when Magdi finally arrived.

She stepped out of the car, wearing a simple yet elegant dress that fell just above her knees. It wasn’t overly fancy, but on her, it might as well have been a designer gown. Ben had always thought she looked good in her physio uniform, but this was something else entirely.

“You’re staring,” Y/N said, a teasing lilt in her voice.

Ben shook himself out of his daze, grinning. “Can you blame me?”

She rolled her eyes, but he could see the slight blush creeping onto her cheeks.

He opened the door for her, leading her inside the cozy, dimly lit restaurant he had carefully chosen. It wasn’t too extravagant—just intimate enough to feel special but still casual enough that Y/N wouldn’t feel pressured.

They were seated at a corner table, away from the main bustle of the restaurant. As soon as they sat down, Ben leaned forward on his elbows, smirking. “So… on a scale of one to ten, how surprised are you that I actually pulled this off?”

Y/N huffed a laugh, shaking her head. “Honestly? I’d say about an eight. I really didn’t think you’d go through all that trouble to win a date with me.”

Ben raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She shrugged, reaching for her menu. “I mean, you could have had anyone. You didn’t have to make a bet just to get a date.”

Ben frowned slightly, tilting his head. “Yeah, but I wanted you.” His voice was casual, but the sincerity in his eyes was impossible to miss. “And I knew if I just asked normally, you’d probably keep saying no.”

Y/N bit her lip, avoiding his gaze for a second. She wasn’t used to someone being this upfront with her—especially him.

“Besides,” Ben continued, nudging her foot under the table. “I like a challenge.”

She let out a breathy laugh. “You’re unbelievable.”

“You’ll learn to love it,” he teased.

They ordered their food, and as the evening went on, the conversation flowed effortlessly. They talked about everything and nothing—their careers, their favorite travel spots, random childhood stories. Ben made sure to throw in a few playful remarks, enjoying the way Y/N laughed more freely as the night went on.

At one point, she shook her head, smiling. “I’ll admit, this is a lot more fun than I thought it would be.”

Ben pressed a hand to his chest, feigning offense. “You thought it wouldn’t be fun? Y/N, I’m hurt.”

She rolled her eyes. “I just meant… I wasn’t sure what to expect. But you’re actually kind of—”

Ben leaned in slightly, smirking. “Go on.”

Y/N huffed, looking away dramatically. “—kind of charming.”

Ben grinned. “Kind of? I’ll take it.”

By the time they finished their meal, the atmosphere between them had shifted. It was lighter, warmer—like something had clicked into place.

As they walked outside, the cool night air wrapped around them. Ben stuffed his hands into his pockets, glancing at Y/N. “So… does this mean I get a second date?”

She pretended to think about it, making a humming noise. “Hmm… I don’t know. I did only agree to one.”

Ben scoffed. “Oh, come on. You had a good time, admit it.”

She smirked. “Maybe.”

Ben groaned dramatically, but he couldn’t stop the grin tugging at his lips.

They reached her car, and for the first time that night, a small silence settled between them. Not awkward—just charged.

Ben took a step closer, his voice softer now. “I had fun tonight.”

Y/N nodded. “Me too.”

For a second, he hesitated. He wanted to kiss her—badly—but he also didn’t want to push too far.

So instead, he reached out and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, letting his fingers linger for just a second longer than necessary.

Y/N’s breath hitched, and when she looked up at him, there was something unreadable in her expression.

Ben smiled. “Guess I’ll just have to win another tournament for that second date.”

Y/N let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “Guess so.”

She got into her car, and Ben watched as she drove off, the small grin never leaving his face.

Yeah. He was definitely winning his next tournament.

———

Don‘t forget to leave a note if you enjoyed it, feedback is always welcome !🩷

[not-magdi]

-puppy love / ben shelton

Warnings: none :)

Words: 982

Reading Time: 3min 50sec

Summary: Ben gets a special birthday gift from you ...

MASTERLIST

Ben Shelton had wanted a puppy for as long as he could remember.

When he was a little kid, he would beg his parents for a golden retriever, going as far as making a whole PowerPoint presentation on why he needed one. He’d promise to feed it, walk it every day, and take care of everything. But between his tennis training, traveling for tournaments, and school, his parents always said it just wasn’t the right time.

Even as he grew up, the dream never faded. He loved dogs—especially golden retrievers. Something about their happy energy and endless loyalty just felt right to him. He swore that one day, when the timing was perfect, he would finally get one.

He just never expected that Y/N would be the one to make that dream come true.

Ben had been feeling like a little kid all day. Not just because it was his birthday—he had always loved birthdays—but because Magdi had been way too excited about something, and she refused to tell him what.

“Babe,” Ben groaned as she led him toward their house. “I know you’re up to something.”

Y/N just smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Maybe.”

Ben stopped walking and grabbed her waist, pulling her into him. “Come on, just tell me,” he murmured, leaning down so their noses almost touched. “You love me, don’t you?”

Y/N bit back a grin. “I do love you. But I also love surprises, so…”

Ben groaned dramatically and dropped his forehead against her shoulder. “This is torture.”

Y/N giggled, running her fingers through his curls before pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head. “Patience, birthday boy. It’ll be worth it, I promise.”

Ben huffed, but he let her drag him inside. “This better be good.”

She turned to him with a smirk. “Oh, it is.”

Ben narrowed his eyes suspiciously as she pointed to the couch. “Sit.”

He flopped down with a sigh, bouncing his knee impatiently. “If this is some kind of prank—”

“It’s not a prank,” Y/N assured him before disappearing down the hallway.

Ben let out a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. He was about to call after her when—

A soft little whimper echoed from the hallway.

Ben froze.

A second later, Y/Nnstepped back into the room, and in her arms was the tiniest, fluffiest golden retriever puppy Ben had ever seen.

Ben’s brain completely short-circuited.

His mouth fell open, his heart hammering against his ribs. His whole body went still, his breath caught in his throat.

Y/N’s smile was pure joy as she looked at him. “Happy birthday, baby.”

Ben blinked. Once. Twice. Then he shot up from the couch so fast that he nearly tripped over his own feet. “No. No way.”

Y/N let out a laugh as she stepped closer. “Yes way.”

Ben’s eyes flickered between her and the tiny bundle in her arms, his voice barely above a whisper. “You got me a puppy?”

Y/Ngiggled. “I got us a puppy.”

Ben let out a strangled noise, something between a laugh and a gasp, and carefully reached out. The moment Magdi placed the puppy in his arms, something inside of him melted.

The puppy was so small, his tiny paws barely bigger than Ben’s fingers. He let out a sleepy little sigh and nuzzled into Ben’s chest, his soft fur warming his skin.

Ben’s voice cracked as he murmured, “Y/N…” He looked at her with wide, glassy eyes. “You seriously got me a golden retriever?”

Y/N smiled softly, her fingers brushing against his arm. “You’ve wanted one forever. I figured it was time to make that happen.”

Ben just stared at her, his chest so full of love he thought it might burst. Then, without thinking, he placed the puppy down on the couch and tackled Y/N into the biggest hug, lifting her off the ground.

She squealed, laughing as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Ben!”

He buried his face in her shoulder, his heart racing. “I love you so much,” he murmured against her skin. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Y/N pulled back slightly, her hands cupping his face as she kissed him softly. “I love you too,” she whispered.

Ben sighed happily, pressing another kiss to her forehead before setting her back down. Then he turned back to the puppy, who was watching them with a sleepy blink.

Ben let out a soft gasp. “Oh my God, he loves me already.”

Y/Ngiggled. “Of course he does.”

Ben carefully picked the puppy back up, cradling him like the most precious thing in the world. “We need a name.”

Y/N nodded. “I thought we could pick one together.”

Ben studied the tiny golden fluffball, his fingers running gently over his ears. He smiled. “What about Milo?”

Y/N tilted her head. “Milo?”

Ben nodded. “Yeah… I don’t know. He just feels like a Milo.”

Y/N looked at the puppy, watching as he blinked up at them with his big brown eyes. “You know what? I love it.”

Ben grinned, holding the puppy up slightly. “Milo it is!”

The tiny pup yawned, stretching his paws out before curling up in Ben’s arms again.

Ben’s heart. Gone.

Y/N giggled. “He’s gonna be so spoiled.”

Ben gasped dramatically. “I would never spoil him.”

Y/N gave him a look.

Ben sighed, pulling Milo closer and pressing a tiny kiss to his forehead. “Okay, maybe a little.”

Y/N smirked. “You’re not gonna be able to say no to him, are you?”

Ben groaned. “Not at all.”

Y/N just laughed, wrapping her arms around Ben’s waist. He leaned into her, pressing a soft kiss to her temple before resting his chin on top of her head.

Milo let out another tiny sigh, completely content in Ben’s arms.

And in that moment, Ben knew—this was exactly what happiness felt like.

------

Hope you enjoyed it, feedback is always welcome !❤️

[not-magdi]

-post match celebrations / ben shelton

Warnings : smut; explicit content 18+

Words: 1386

Reading Time: 5min 23sec

Summary: You and Ben celebrate him going into the semi's in Australia

MASTERLIST

You stood before the mirror in your and Ben's shared hotel room, admiring how your new black lingerie accented every curve of your body. It was a black lacy two-piece that left very little to imagination in certain places. You bought this set as a gift for Ben to celebrate his win against Mussetti in the quarter-finals at the Australian Open; you wanted to reward him for his hard work.   

Applying the last bit of body oil to make your skin silky and smooth, you grab your phone and take a photo of yourself kneeling in front of the mirror. Once you are happy with how it turned out, you open your chat with Ben and send him the photo with a little message attached to it. 

Hope you come home soon. I have a little something for you ;)

You hit send and let yourself fall onto the bed. Now, all you have to do is wait and look pretty while doing so. 

Ben had just been released from his press conference when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Seeing your name pop up on his screen drew a smile on his face, which disappeared quickly again when he saw what you sent him.  

Closing his phone, he made sure that nobody around him could see his screen before opening it again to admire the picture of you. 

"God damm". He whispered to himself as he realised that you wore a set he had never seen on you before. 

He rushed to get his stuff before hurrying out to his car. As he finally sat in the driver's seat, he pulled out his phone and took a photo of him grabbing his growing boner through his shorts and sending it to you. 

Fuck baby, look what you did to me ...

------

As you saw that Ben sent you a message, you couldn't help but smirk, thinking about how he must've looked while he saw it. Opening the message. Your mouth starts to water as you see the photo of Ben's hard dick showing through his shorts with the little message beneath it. 

Your panties are starting to get even wetter as you start to fantasise about what Ben will do to you when he comes back. And just as your fingers are about to wander into your underwear, you hear the door open with force. 

"Fuck baby look at you". Ben groaned as he made his way over to you. 

Halting his movements, he opens his arms. "Come here". You comply and stand up to jump into his arms, wrapping your legs tight around his waist.

Ben's hands find your ass, gripping it tight while his lips find yours, pulling you into a passionate and desperate kiss. Your tongues fight for dominance, which Ben wins in an instant. 

"You did so well today, I'm so proud of you". You whisper as you part before attaching your lips to his once more.

Your hands travel to the nape of his neck, gripping his hair as his lips travel downwards, planting kisses along your jawline and sucking on the sensitive parts of your neck, drawing soft moans from your lips. 

Ben can feel his dick hardening as he hears you moan into his ear, he gives your ass a squeeze, looking up from your neck.  

"Don't you wanna give me my reward babygirl." His deep voice whispers into your ear. 

Whimpering, you nod your head and unwrap your legs from him before slowly sinking down to your knees. Now face to face with his hard-on, you look him in the eyes while hooking your legs into the waistband of his pants, pulling them down with his boxers. 

His hard dick jumps against his abs, which draws a hiss from his lips. Licking your lips, you start to place light kitten licks on the head before taking his full length into your mouth, wrapping your hands around the part that doesn't fit. 

"Fuuuuck baby that's it." Ben groans while grabbing your hair into a makeshift ponytail. 

You start to bob your head faster now, pressing your tongue against the big vein on the underside of his dick. Ben's hips begin to buck into your mouth, your eyes tearing as his cock hits the back of your throat.    

"Of fuck," Ben shuddered "yeah- yeah that's it babe." 

You begin to feel Ben's cock starting to twitch, indicating that he is close, but before you could do anything about it Ben yanks you off, pulls you up and throws you on the bed. 

You let out a huff as you land, Ben is immediately on the bed, kneeling before you admiring the way you look in the soft lace lingerie. 

"You're so fucking beautiful, I'm so goddam lucky," Ben murmurs stroking his hands up and down your thighs. Your cheeks change colour into a deep red because of the complement. 

"My turn now," he trails slow and deliberate kisses down your body, leaving hickeys just above your waistline, where no one but him can see them. 

"Ben, th- this should be about you," you stutter out as he hooks his fingers into your panties. 

"Oh believe me, I'm enjoying this as much as you are." Smirking, he pulls your panties off before licking a long stripe up your dripping pussy. 

"Fuck Ben!" You nearly scream his name as he sucks your clit into his mouth, before drawing circles with his tongue. 

His hands hold your legs apart as your thighs try to keep his head between your legs. His tongue keeps abusing your clit as he pushes one of his fingers into your hole. 

Your fingers grab onto his mess of curls, pulling on his hair which makes him groan into your pussy, the vibrations making you see stars. The coil in your stomach is about to snap any second. 

"B-ben, I'm gonna cum!" You moan, your other hand gripping the sheets of the bed for dear life as Ben continues to lick you out while his fingers fuck you. 

"Come on baby, let go for me." And with that you let yourself fall over the edge, arching your back into Ben's mouth. 

He helps you through your high before turning you around and pulling your ass up in the air. You can hear the sound of the condom wrapper as Ben rolls the latex over his hard cock, tugging on it a few times. 

His hand finds your hips as he aligns himself with your hole, before slowly sinking into your heat. Your eyes roll at the back of your head at the delicious stretch of his cock. 

"Shit babe, your so tight," Ben hisses as he slowly starts to move, allowing you to adjust to the stretch. But it doesn't take long before he starts to pick up the pace, his hands gripping your hips tight enough to leave marks. 

The room is filled with the sounds of skin slapping and the bed hitting the wall with the pace at which Ben is going.

"S-so good, fuck Ben." You mumble into the mattress, too far gone from the pleasure. 

You feel one of his hands pulling your bra down, pushing your tits out of their cups to grip the in his hand. The other hand wraps around your middle, pulling you up so your back is against his chest. 

With the new position, Ben manages to hit your G-spot with every single thrust, making your orgasm approach quickly. Your hands reach behind you to grip his shoulders, as your pussy twitches around his cock. 

"I feel you're close baby, I'm too, let go for me," Ben murmurs into your ear, and with that, your second orgasm of the night hits you like a ton of bricks, you scream Ben's name as you feel him filling the condom behind you, his arms holding you close as he thrust slowly through both of your orgasms.  

You both fall onto the bed, your energy completely drained, Ben pulls you onto his chest, stroking your hair as you lie on top of him. 

"Hope you liked your reward, I'm proud of you." You whisper. 

"It was perfect baby, thank you." he kisses the top of your head before standing up the fill a bath for the two of you.      

-------

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[not-magdi]

-little protector / ben shelton

Warnings: none

Words: 663

Reading time : 2-3 minutes

Request: Hello :) could you do an imagine where reader have a younger brother (like 2/5 years old) and he is jealous when Ben gives affection to the reader cus that’s his sister and they bicker please ?

Thank you so much for requesting, hope you love it ! <3 MASTERLIST

The cozy hum of laughter and conversation filled your family’s living room, the scent of your mom’s famous lasagna wafting from the kitchen. It was one of those rare weekends where everyone was home, and the house felt alive with warmth and noise. You sat curled up on the couch next to Ben, his arm casually draped over your shoulders, thumb tracing slow, absentminded circles on your skin.

But someone else in the room wasn’t having it.

From across the room, your four-year-old brother, Noah, was glaring.

Tiny arms crossed over his chest, his little lips pushed out in a pout, and his big brown eyes locked onto Ben like he was the villain in a superhero movie. The second Ben leaned in to whisper something in your ear, Noah let out an exaggerated huff, stomping his foot for extra drama.

You bit back a laugh, glancing at Noah. “Hey, buddy, you okay over there?”

Noah didn’t answer. Instead, he marched straight across the room with all the determination of someone twice his size, stopping right in front of you and Ben. He stared up at Ben with a fierce look that was more adorable than intimidating.

“You can’t sit next to my sister,” Noah declared, his voice high-pitched but filled with conviction.

Ben raised an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth twitching with amusement. “Oh yeah? And who says so, little man?”

“I say so!” Noah shot back, planting his feet firmly like he was ready to square up.

Ben chuckled, leaning down so he was eye level with Noah, his face full of mock seriousness. “I don’t know, champ. I think your sister likes me sitting here.” He gave you a playful wink, which only made Noah’s frown deepen.

“No!” Noah stomped his foot again. “I sit next to her!”

You couldn’t hold in your laughter anymore, covering your mouth to hide the grin spreading across your face. “Noah, Ben’s not stealing me, I promise.”

But Noah wasn’t convinced. He turned his glare back to Ben, pointing a tiny finger at him. “You go over there,” he demanded, gesturing to the empty armchair across the room.

Ben laughed, leaning back on the couch with a smug grin. “Sorry, buddy. I’m pretty comfy right here.”

Noah’s face scrunched up in frustration. Without another word, he climbed onto the couch and squeezed himself right between you and Ben, using all his strength to push Ben’s arm off your shoulders.

“There,” Noah huffed, settling in your lap and wrapping his small arms around your neck possessively. “Mine.”

Ben’s eyes widened, and then he burst out laughing, ruffling Noah’s hair. “Alright, alright, you win—for now.”

But Noah wasn’t done. He shot Ben another suspicious look, like he was daring him to try anything.

You smiled, pressing a kiss to Noah’s cheek. “You’re my favorite little guy, you know that?”

Noah’s pout softened slightly, but his arms stayed firmly around your neck.

Ben leaned closer, voice dropping to a playful whisper. “Don’t worry, Noah. I’ll share her with you.”

Noah shot him a glare. “No sharing!”

Ben threw his hands up in surrender, laughing. “Okay, no sharing. Got it.”

But as the evening went on, Noah’s fierce jealousy began to waver. After dinner, Ben challenged him to a game of Connect Four, and Noah—despite himself—started to warm up to the idea of having Ben around. They bickered back and forth, Ben pretending to lose a few rounds just to hear Noah’s triumphant little giggles.

By the time bedtime rolled around, Noah was curled up on Ben’s lap, his earlier scowls replaced by sleepy yawns.

As you tucked Noah into bed later that night, he clung to your hand, blinking up at you sleepily.

“Do you… do you have to like Ben?” he mumbled, his voice soft now, the fight finally gone.

You smiled, brushing his hair off his forehead. “I do, buddy. But you’re still my number one, okay?”

Noah gave a tiny nod, his eyelids drooping. “Okay… but he’s kinda funny…”

You chuckled softly, kissing his forehead. “Yeah, he is.”

When you stepped back into the living room, Ben was lounging on the couch, a smug grin on his face.

“So,” he teased, “do you think he’s finally accepted me, or should I expect another duel tomorrow?”

You laughed, plopping down beside him. “I think you’ve won him over. But don’t get too comfortable—he’s still watching you.”

Ben pulled you closer, his arm slipping around your shoulders again. “Good. I like a challenge.”

And as you leaned into him, the warmth of the evening still lingering in the air, you realized that Ben wasn’t just winning over your little brother—he was winning over your whole heart, too.

------

Don't forget to leave a note if you enjoyed it, feedback is always welcome !❤️

[not-magdi]

-ben shelton masterlist ✨🤍🎾

〜You can request something HERE 〜

-A deal's a deal posted February 5th 2025

-A deal‘s a deal Pt. 2 posted March 3rd 2025

-Little protector posted February 9th 2025

-Post match celebrations {S} posted February 9th 2025

-Puppy love posted February 16th 2025

-Suit and tie posted March 4th 2025

-By your side posted March 8th 2025

-Acapulco all white posted March 11th 2025

-Our secret {S/F} posted March 13th

-Indian Wells posted March 15th

[not-magdi]

-a deal's a deal / ben shelton

Warnings: none just pure fluff :)

Words : 937

Reading Time: 4 min 41sec

A/N My first time writing fo Ben Shelton!You are very welcome to request something ! Hope you enjoy it love y'all Magdi<3

MASTERLIST PART 2

Ben let out a deep sigh as he settled onto the massage table, his muscles aching from his three-set battle earlier that day. His shirt was off, his back glistening slightly with sweat, and he was already melting into the firm padding beneath him before Y/N had even laid a hand on him.

Y/N, standing beside him in her navy-blue physio uniform, rolled her eyes as she squeezed a bit of massage oil into her hands. “You act like I’m about to fix all your problems,” she teased.

Ben turned his head slightly, flashing her a lazy grin. “You usually do.”

She scoffed but couldn’t fight the small smile tugging at her lips. “Flattery isn’t going to get you anywhere, Shelton.”

He smirked. “You say that, and yet here you are, touching me.”

Y/N let out a soft laugh and pressed her thumbs into his upper back, starting to work out the knots in his shoulders. “That’s my job,” she reminded him.

Ben hummed, his voice slightly muffled against the table. “Mhm. Still doesn’t change the fact that you like it.”

Y/N shook her head, ignoring him as she worked her way down his back. They’d had this same playful banter for months now—ever since she’d been assigned as one of the ATP physios at his tournaments. At first, she’d assumed his constant flirting was just part of his personality. Ben was naturally charismatic, always cracking jokes, always keeping things lighthearted.

But lately… she wasn’t so sure.

Ben wasn’t just throwing out compliments for the fun of it anymore. He was looking at her differently, holding eye contact just a little too long, finding excuses to talk to her even when he didn’t need a physio session. And the way he was acting now—completely at ease under her touch, grinning even through the discomfort of the massage—made her suspicious.

“You know,” Ben said after a few moments, “we really should hang out outside of these sessions.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “You mean outside of me fixing your body after you destroy it every match?”

“Exactly,” Ben said, his voice dripping with amusement. “I was thinking more along the lines of dinner.”

She stilled her hands for just a second before continuing her movements. “Ben…”

He immediately picked up on her hesitation. “What?”

Y/N sighed, pressing a bit harder into a particularly stubborn knot. Ben let out a quiet groan at the pressure, and for a second, she thought about pretending she hadn’t heard his question.

But Ben was persistent. Always had been.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she finally said. “It’s not exactly professional.”

Ben scoffed, turning his head so he could look at her from the side. “Oh, come on. It’s not like you’re my full-time physio. Just one date.”

Y/N shook her head. “I don’t know…”

Ben propped himself up slightly on his elbows, ignoring the way his muscles protested. “Alright, then let’s make it interesting.”

She gave him a suspicious look. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

Ben smirked. “If I win this tournament, you have to go on a date with me.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “And if you don’t win?”

“I’ll stop asking.” He shrugged. “Promise.”

She exhaled, debating for a moment. The chances of him winning the whole thing weren’t impossible, but they also weren’t guaranteed. It was a stacked draw, and anything could happen.

“…Fine,” she relented. “If you win, I’ll go on one date with you.”

Ben grinned. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

—

Y/N should have known better.

She should have known that Ben would take this bet personally.

She had watched from the sidelines as he steamrolled through his next opponents, his confidence only growing with each match. And when he stepped onto the court for the final, there was a determination in his eyes that she had never seen before.

Now, as she stood among the crowd, watching him lift the trophy above his head with a victorious grin, she felt an odd mix of emotions. Pride, amusement, and—if she was being completely honest—dread.

Because she had lost the bet.

And Ben was never going to let her forget it.

—

She had barely made it back to the physio room before she heard footsteps behind her.

“Don’t even start,” she said without turning around.

Ben’s laughter filled the room. “What? I’m just here to check when you are free for our date.”

Y/N sighed dramatically, finally facing him. His face was still slightly flushed from the match, his trophy tucked under one arm, and in his other hand—much to her surprise—was a small gift bag.

She eyed it suspiciously. “What is that?”

Ben smirked, handing it to her. “Just a little something from the city. Thought I’d soften you up before I tell you when and where we’re going.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but took the bag, pulling out a delicate bracelet with a small tennis racket charm on it.

She stared at it, momentarily caught off guard. “Ben…”

“You like it?” he asked, his voice softer now.

She nodded, unable to fight the small smile forming on her lips. “Yeah. I do.”

Ben’s grin widened. “Good. Then you’ll love the restaurant I picked out for our date.”

Y/N let out a laugh, shaking her head. “You really don’t give up, do you?”

Ben tilted his head, his expression completely serious for once. “Not when it’s something I actually want.”

She met his gaze, her heart skipping a beat at the sincerity in his voice.

“…Alright,” she finally said. “A deal’s a deal.”

Ben’s face lit up. “Damn right it is.”

-----

Don't forget to leave a note if ypu enjoyed it, feedback is always welcome !❤️

[not-magdi]

Won you back || Ben Shelton x gf!reader

Summary: after a heated argument on the way to a tournament, Ben apologies to you during his post match interview

Wc: 1,412

Wanrings: angst

MASTERLIST

-

The argument had started over something small. It always did. You and Ben had been in the car, heading to the tournament, the morning sun spilling golden light over the dashboard. He had his cap on, one hand gripping the steering wheel, the other drumming absentmindedly against his thigh.

You’d been going over last-minute details—what time his warm-up started, where his physio would meet him—when you brought up something that had been on your mind. “You need to take recovery more seriously,” you said, trying to keep your tone light, non-confrontational. “You barely iced your shoulder yesterday.”

Ben scoffed, shaking his head. “Here we go.” That immediately set you off. You turned in your seat, eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?” “Babe, I’m fine,” he said, glancing at you before focusing back on the road. “I’ve been doing this for years. I know what my body needs.” “That’s not the point, Ben,” you shot back.

“You’ve been pushing yourself harder than usual, and I see how sore you are. You’re not invincible.”He exhaled through his nose, jaw tightening. “I know that.” “Do you?” you challenged, folding your arms. “Because you act like you don’t. You brush me off every time I bring it up, like I’m just nagging you for fun.” Ben let out a humorless laugh, gripping the wheel a little tighter.

“I don’t think it’s fun, but yeah, it is nagging. You say the same thing over and over like I don’t already know it.” You felt something sharp twist in your chest. “I say it over and over because you don’t listen.” “I listen,” he argued, his voice rising. “I just don’t need to be babied. I know how to handle my body. This is my job.”

His words stung more than they should have. He wasn’t outright saying it, but you heard what he meant. Stay out of it. Let me handle it. Your stomach churned with frustration, but more than that—hurt. “Right,” you muttered, staring out the window now. “God forbid I actually care about you.” Ben sighed, running a hand down his face. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Sure sounded like it.” “Jesus, babe,” he said, shaking his head. “You act like I’m out here being reckless. I know my limits.” You turned back to him, eyes flashing. “And what happens when you don’t? What happens when you push too far and get injured? Then what?” He didn’t answer right away. He just clenched his jaw, breathing heavily through his nose, the silence in the car thick and suffocating.

Then, finally, he muttered, “I don’t need you to micromanage me.” You felt that one like a slap. Your lips parted slightly, your throat going tight. He wasn’t yelling, but the weight of those words settled heavily between you. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The only sound was the faint hum of the engine and the distant noise of the city outside.

“Fine,” you finally said, voice quiet, clipped. “I won’t.” Ben glanced at you then, his brows furrowed, as if realising too late that he’d gone too far. But you didn’t give him a chance to take it back. You just turned your attention out the window, your reflection staring back at you in the glass. The rest of the ride was silent. Tense.

~

You were still fuming when you took your seat in Ben’s player box. Arms crossed, legs crossed, expression tight and unreadable. The energy in the stadium was buzzing—people were excited, eager to see him play—but all you could focus on was the lingering frustration in your chest.

Ben was already on the court, doing his warm-ups, but you knew him well enough to see it—the tension in his shoulders, the sharpness in his movements, the extra force in his serves. He was still pissed. He masked it well, all smiles and charm for the cameras, but you saw through it.

The match started, and if there was one thing about Ben, it was that he played with his emotions on full display. Every shot had an edge to it, every point won was punctuated with a clenched fist and a muttered, “Let’s go.” He was playing aggressively, moving with more purpose than usual, channelling every ounce of frustration into his game.

And damn it, he was playing well. You wanted to stay mad, you really did, but watching him dominate the court like this—focused, powerful, relentless—it was hard not to be impressed. He was always magnetic to watch, but today, there was something else fueling him, something raw.

Something personal. Every time he won a big point, his eyes flicked to his box, searching for your reaction, but you refused to give him one. No nods of encouragement, no silent approval. Just the same unreadable expression you’d walked in with. He clenched his jaw, lips pressing into a thin line before turning away. The fire in his eyes burned hotter.

By the time he secured the win, the crowd was on their feet, cheering, clapping, chanting his name. Ben threw his arms up, soaking it in, but even then—even then—his gaze found you again. You thought he’d just shake hands with his opponent, do his usual post-match routine, and keep it moving. But as the interviewer walked onto the court, microphone in hand, you noticed something shift in his expression.

The interviewer smiled. “Ben, incredible performance today. You seemed really fired up out there—what was driving you?” Ben exhaled sharply, running a hand through his sweat-damp curls. He glanced at the box again—at you—before bringing the mic closer. “Well,” he started, and already, you could tell this was going somewhere different.

His voice was steady, but there was something softer beneath it, something more vulnerable. “I, uh, had a bit of a rough morning.” A few chuckles from the crowd. The interviewer raised a brow, clearly intrigued. “Came in kinda frustrated,” Ben admitted, shifting on his feet. “Said some things I shouldn’t have. Was too stubborn to back down. And, uh…”

His eyes found yours again, and this time, the fire in them wasn’t competitive—it was pleading. “I’ve been thinking about that all match.” You swallowed hard, feeling the wall you’d built around yourself begin to crack. Ben cleared his throat. “So, yeah, I played hard today. But honestly? I just really wanted to win so I could have this moment to say—” He let out a small, almost nervous laugh. “I’m sorry.”

The crowd awwwed, and the interviewer grinned. “You’re apologising right now? On live TV?” “Yeah.” Ben rubbed the back of his neck. “Figured it’d be harder for her to stay mad at me this way.” Laughter rippled through the stadium, but you just sat there, stunned, heart pounding against your ribs. He meant it.

You could see it in his face, in the way his jaw wasn’t clenched anymore, in the way his shoulders had lost their tension. He wasn’t trying to win an argument anymore—he was just trying to fix it. And damn it, it was working. You exhaled, finally letting yourself really look at him, and when his lips quirked up into the smallest, hopeful smile, you felt your own soften in response.

Ben saw it. He saw the shift, the thaw, and he nodded slightly, as if to say, I’ll make it up to you. And just like that, the game was over. He’d already won the match. Now, he’d won you back, too.